In Which Blanche returns to Innocence; consideration is given on the sole pleasures of her virtues; and Dodie learns more about Blanche.

lanche didn’t often visit Congress and when she did she always hated the restrictions of wearing clothes, which on a body as plump as hers was rarely as flattering as total nudity would be. It was not something she could avoid for too long as it was occasionally necessary to restock her bookshop in Brook. Running a business entails considerable sacrifices. Her body was stifled within the single white dress of thin material through which could be glimpsed the darkness around her nipples and crotch. Blanche envied those slim women who were able to get away with much less than her. She admired the girls walking by, often topless with very short hair. Her own preference was for much longer hair, but she had no influence on fashion which now dictated a very short haircut, sometimes shaved into a tonsure or with strange patterns razored into the stubble.

She adored looking at the girls’ bodies which were somehow more sexy for wearing clothing, than for being utterly naked, but this reflected more on the fact she was far more accustomed to nudity. She was still sore from a meeting with a supplier where as usual her bargaining power was leveraged by the offer of sex, which, although less than normally enjoyable, had at least resulted in a substantial discount and a better working relationship. Nevertheless, her thoughts as she observed the girls walking by, their buttocks twitching as they passed and their breasts either bared or enhanced by what little they did wear, awakened her lust. If only she could just pluck one of them from the street, take her back to her hotel room and enjoy the full bounty of their flesh. She could imagine their full lips against her cunt or her nipples, the teeth nibbling away and her back arching with spasms of ecstasy pulsing through her body. Unlikely, she reasoned, although she might be fortunate enough to meet someone that evening in the hotel bar who could see the attractions of the larger woman and, be they male or female, provide her with the lovemaking she yearned for.

One girl particularly caught Blanche’s eye in a department store. She was looking though a selection of bed-linen and holding the sheets up to the light. She was topless, with baggy khaki shorts and blonde hair onto her shoulders. Her skin was tanned gold and Blanche reasoned from her ease with her body that she was a girl who’d spent much of her life in the nude. There would be no trace of the white patches around the crotch which so distinguished tourists in Brook. The girl put down the bed linen and turned to examine some ethnic lampshades. It was then that Blanche recognised her as Innocence who she’d not seen for such a very long time.

“Innocence, sweetheart,” Blanche simpered, approaching her and smiling. “I didn’t know you lived in Congress.”

Innocence turned around, and grinned broadly. “Hello. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, business. That’s all,” Blanche replied. “How’s Chastity? The last I heard, you were both living together in Labia.”

Innocence seemed a little discomfited by this reference. “I haven’t seen Chastity for a long time. I don’t know where she’s living now.”

“Is she still a student?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I have a flat in Congress now with my girlfriend, Dodie. Do you want to come and see it?”

“Why, I’d love to!” exclaimed Blanche, her crotch already tingling. She hadn’t forgotten Innocence’s peculiar attractions. She was even more impressed when she arrived at Innocence’s flat, which was much larger than she expected. She knew how expensive property was in Congress, and to have one so spacious in such a well-appointed area, and so opulently furnished, was a testament to wealth.

“Is Dodie some kind of heiress?” she asked.

“No,” laughed Innocence. “No! She hardly earns anything. She does all sorts of things, but I don’t think any of them make her make very much money.”

“Then, how can you afford all this? Have you inherited some money?”

“Not at all! Didn’t you know? I’m a film star. It’s all my money.”

“Film star? I haven’t seen any of your films.”

“It’s a specialised market,” Innocence explained, indicating a poster on the wall which showed her making love to a man and a very young-looking girl, her penis in the girl’s anus while the man’s prick was engaged in the vagina. “I take it you don’t watch these kind of films.”

Blanche shook her head. “I prefer reading about it. Somehow the imagination is so much sexier than the real thing.”

She wandered towards Innocence, who looked so beautiful framed against the light coming through the windows, her slender figure silhouetted and her breasts full and firm. Blanche so wanted to touch them. Innocence could see this and smiled welcomingly.

“You must feel very strange in the city wearing so many clothes. Take them off if you like, just as you did when you stayed with me and my family.”

“Can I?” asked Blanche, gratefully easing the dress off her round shoulders, letting the full roundness and softness of her flesh once again shiver in the slight coolness of the air. She stood naked facing Innocence, glancing down at Innocence’s shorts which she knew contained so much unexpected beauty and potency. Innocence followed her glance and then with a smile and no words, eased the shorts down revealing a tumescent penis which began to swell and throb as soon as it felt the afternoon air. It jerked excitedly as pulsing courses of blood pumped into it.

“Oh! It’s so beautiful!” gasped Blanche, dropping on her knees in front of Innocence and taking the length of it into her mouth. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and let the penis slide over her tongue, past her tonsils and into the constrictions of her throat. She grasped Innocence by the buttocks, which undulated with their own rhythm pushing again and again at Blanche’s throat. Blanche’s cunt dribbled with anticipation, which she chose to ignore until it was truly ready.

And then, when she felt she could hold it back no longer, with both her tubby fingers and Innocence’s much slenderer ones pushing deeper and deeper through the smooth folds of flesh, stimulating her cunt and arse into dripping agony. And then, gasping from the passion shuddering through the mass of white flesh that jiggled with the penis’s persistent thrusts into her mouth, she lovingly withdrew it and transferred it to her cunt which swallowed it whole with ease and a little squelch. She lay back while watching Innocence on top of her thrust in and out, now so much more expert than when they’d first made love, her beautiful firm breasts arching above her and her penis thrusting deeper and deeper into her, propelling her into orgasm after orgasm, forcing out gasps of pleasure that reverberated about the flat.

She could feel that Innocence was about to come. “In the mouth! The mouth!” She cried urgently. She loved the taste of semen and it was a long time since she’d tasted Innocence’s. Her beautiful lover obliged, reluctantly withdrawing her prick and placing its twitching stiffness inside Blanche’s mouth, from which emerged a slightly diluted mixture of semen and saliva which she tasted, swallowed some and allowed the rest to dribble down her cheek and in globules onto the upper reaches of her mountainous breasts. Innocence pulled out her shrivelled penis while Blanche smiled.

“This is certainly better than reading about it!” she admitted. “Sometimes the imagination just isn’t everything!”

Blanche stayed for a few days in Innocence’s flat in the bedroom once occupied by Algebra. As she lay beneath the sheets she could hear giggling and sniggering from the room next to her. That must be Dodie with Innocence, Blanche mused. She didn’t know what to make of the young girl whose attitudes and lifestyle were so different from her own, and quite different again from Innocence’s. She wondered what it was that brought the two together. Whatever it was, the passion of their love-life wasn’t feigned. She let a pudgy hand wander along the length of her thighs, while caressing her nipples with her other hand. The sounds emerging from the other room began to change in character. The giggling and teasing was replaced by heavier breathing and a slow but rhythmic thud thud on the mattress.

Blanche’s hands lowered down the bed, impulsively throwing aside the restrictions of the duvet covering her so she could feel the night air against her naked skin. Her fingers trailed over the round contours of her stomach and then, finding the moist and welcoming entrance to her cunt under the folds and dimples of her flesh, she eased her fingers in, deeper and deeper, twigging her swollen vagina, easing back the fleshy lips and squeezing in first one and then two of her pudgy fingers. From the room next door, the rhythm of Innocence’s and Dodie’s lovemaking had become faster, more violent, more insistent. The bed rocked back and forth, the back of the mattress occasionally thumping against the wall, a high shrill cry emitted in spasms of ecstasy. Blanche’s cunt became juicier and more liquid as she envisaged each of Innocence’s thrusts as her beautiful penis pushed again and again at Dodie’s hairy cunt, between those angular legs, those child-like knees, those fatfree thighs and that bony arse pushed again and again onto the mattress.

Perhaps, Blanche wondered, two hands now pummelling her cunt, Dodie was being penetrated in the arse. There was certainly an urgency and passion in her cries now that made it very likely to Blanche that she was. She could imagine her, arse in the air, while Innocence gripped her around the waist, her knees between Dodie’s thighs, her penis pushing into the still hairy but much more puckered hole at the rear. Blanche allowed a finger to wander to her rear, using the vaginal juices to lubricate its entrance, and two and then three fingers, arching up as much as her bulk allowed her to push her fingers against the ones pushing in from the front.

Dodie and Innocence were shrieking now. Cries which would have awoken Blanche had she been asleep. Dodie’s voice the deeper and less feminine while Innocence gave the little gasps of passionate relief that Blanche enjoyed so much in her earlier acquaintance. She remembered those early encounters, Innocence’s penis deep in her mouth while Chastity shared her attention and her cunt between the two of them. She gasped weakly, surrendered to her fantasies, as her fingers pushed and pushed, the rhythm of her bed beginning to match that of a similar mass in the room adjacent.

And then release! She knew it was after that achieved by Dodie and Innocence as she heard them whispering together, their arms and bodies no doubt intertwined, as the pulses of orgasm shuddered through her body in wave after wave, leaving her exhausted and wasted, the strong smell of her vagina permeating the room and on her fingers and a simpering look of passion engraved on her face. She pulled up the duvet to cover the round mass of her body. She desperately desired Innocence’s body. She could barely wait for the next opportunity for Innocence’s penis to plunge inside her again. She could almost taste the penis on her mouth, the delicious richness of semen sliding down her throat.

There was no doubt in Blanche’s mind of the sincerity of Dodie’s love for Innocence. During her brief stay at their flat she had many opportunities to see its manifestations. Dodie’s hands were rarely, if ever, separated from Innocence’s penis, idly holding it while the couple watched television, following her into the kitchen when she was preparing food and holding it from behind as her lover was cutting the vegetables, kneeling between Innocence’s young slender thighs and taking long lingering mouthfuls of it between her lips. How could anyone have so much energy and passion? Blanche wondered from a distance, not sure whether to avert her eyes or to relish the sight of such beautiful coupling.

Meal-times were as much passionate affairs as any other, while Dodie put forkful after forkful into her mouth with her left hand (she was left-handed), her other hand still clasped what was sometimes a deservedly exhausted organ between Innocence’s ever naked thighs. When Innocence returned home, Dodie leapt up from whatever she was doing and run up to her lover, ease off her clothes and there and then lead her into the bedroom or just onto the hallway floor, opening her legs and letting the full length of Innocence’s ever-ready penis slide easily into her lubricated cunt. Blanche sometimes felt envy. She’d never enjoyed a relationship as passionate nor as insatiable as her two hostesses. She knew that her own lovemaking with Innocence, however passionate and orgasmic, lacked the intensity and persistence of Dodie’s.

And this was combined with a love life that the two lovers pursued when not together. Innocence made love with her co-stars while filming and with other friends and acquaintances. A part of Innocence’s love life was dedicated to Blanche, moments she treasured and enjoyed with passion, unable to get enough of that beautiful feminine body: so curvaceous, slim and receptive, and that powerful thrusting penis pulsing again and again that rich tasting semen that Blanche loved taking down her throat, pleased to allow the small dribble to seep through her lips, run down her chin and onto her massive breasts. Dodie also had a rich sex life, which she kept no secret, sometimes recounting her passionate encounters and even bringing her lovers into the flat to enjoy passionate love while Innocence and Blanche sat together in the living room, Innocence showing nothing but indulgent pleasure as Dodie’s shrill cries of pleasure echoed around the confines of the flat and the back of the bed thumped insistently against the wall.

Dodie was an attractive woman, although not in the most obvious ways. Compared to her she was very thin. Almost a stick of a woman. She was thin compared even to the full contours of Innocence’s slender body, with breasts which, when they were revealed, were barely more than mounds on her chest with prominent nipples that pressed hard and firm against the tee-shirts she most often wore, even when all else was removed. She hardly ever hid her hirsute vagina, which had probably never been trimmed and easily accounted for more luxuriance than the hair on her head. Her bony face had a harshness about it in repose which so easily softened into near soppiness whenever she commenced her lovemaking with Innocence.

It was inevitable that Blanche should get to know Dodie better, though at the time it didn’t seem inevitable at all. Innocence was out and Dodie had returned after a day working in a record shop which was one of the several occasional jobs she did more to enliven her life than for the meagre pay it afforded her. It was almost like pocket money for her: Innocence was bringing in more than was adequate from the sale of her videos. Blanche had been negotiating with suppliers in Congress who had access to imported literature in translation that interposed experimentation in language and structure with sexual habits which were at best unpleasant and at worst lethal. She wasn’t too sure she enjoyed the admixture of torture and rape with lingering unfinished sentences, time reversal and flowery exuberance, but she knew that there was a ready market for this kind of literature, so she was eager to get some onto her bookshelves. Her own feelings as she read the beautifully poetic accounts of multiple rape with broomhandles, slow removal of fingernails, the inexorable peeling off of vaginal layers and the gradual insertion of chair-legs up anuses were not ones of pleasure. In fact, she put the books to one side, yearning for the simple certainties of Honore L’Oeuf’s pederastic fantasies. She even longed for those tedious novels where clothes were divested chapter after chapter and the sex scenes repetitive and predictable.

Dodie watched Blanche sitting on the sofa reading one of the books she’d bought, the translated title being Barbed Wire Brassiere, Blanche squirming at the descriptions of blood dripping down breasts that were torn to pieces by the unpleasant underwear of the title. It was at least preferable to Razor Blade Knickers by the same author. Dodie sat next to Blanche, who was grateful for the diversion, wearing a short tee-shirt with the picture of a rhinoceros fucking a hippopotamus. As usual, she wore nothing else except a pair of laced boots that came halfway up her lower leg. Without bothering to say anything, she leaned her head on Blanche’s shoulder and trailed a hand over Blanche’s thigh.

“Good book?” She asked.

“A bit gruesome,” admitted Blanche. “I don’t know what people see in this kind of stuff.”

“But you still read it,” Dodie observed, smiling, putting a hand on Blanche’s chin and turning her head round to face her. She stared into Blanche’s face, with a strange simpering smile. “You know, for such a large woman you’re very attractive. How do you keep your skin so white, living in Brook?”

“I just don’t go out in the sun very often.”

“Is that so?” Asked Dodie, before pressing her lips onto Blanche’s, burying her tongue into her unresisting mouth. Blanche responded in form, heaving around her bulk and pulling Dodie’s slender bony body against the folds and cushions of her flesh. Dodie swivelled about and climbed onto Blanche’s body, a finger twiddling her nipple and another caressing the vagina obscured beneath the piled folds of flesh that was her stomach. Blanche heaved back, overwhelmed by a shudder of pleasure, allowing Dodie to slide down between her open legs and bury her stubbled head between the soft wobbling fat of her thighs.

By the time Innocence returned, Dodie and Blanche were rolling about on the floor, Blanche gasping and panting as Dodie workmanlike massaged and exercised her sensitive flesh. The two of them looked up expectantly as Innocence stood over them, already freed of her clothes, her long hair falling over her face, and her penis stirring at the sight of such mismatched bodies in such passionate embrace. Her breasts arched, her nipples coning out hard and firm, the smooth roundness of them so incongruous above the penis that was twitching into life. Dodie looked at Blanche and Blanche at Dodie, and the two of them at Innocence, both overwhelmed with desire for the girl.

Then Dodie parted her legs. “Take me, Innocence. Take me!”

“And me!” Pleaded Blanche doing the same thing, but less able to display the full glory of her cunt. “Take us both!”

“Both?” Innocence queried, excited at the idea, her penis now fully erect, like a shiny pink pillar of pleasure. It took little more persuasion and the three of them were rolling about on the floor, Innocence’s penis now in Dodie and now in Blanche, thrusting back and forth, now engulfed in folds of fat and now banging hip bone against hip bone. Blanche lay back as Innocence plied at her, Dodie’s tongue deep in her mouth, and she knew not whose fingers were caressing her breasts and clitoris.

This was what it was about, she mused, still disturbed even in her moments of passion by images of the suffering of the heroine of Barbed Wire Brassiere and her fears of what Penis Lacerators might be about. Not violence, humiliation and death. The meaning of sex was love and loving. Without them, sex was empty and meaningless. She smiled at Innocence as she thrust again and again into her cunt. There need never be a dark side to sex when love unified the act. She needed love first and sex was no more than the bonus which lubricated and reinforced that love, however temporary and however necessary it was for her to return home to Brook and her bookshop.