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Message-ID: <40690asstr$1044429006@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} I Suck {Kellis} (MfF anal oral)
Date: Wed,  5 Feb 2003 02:10:06 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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I Suck

a Short Story by Kellis
Copyright (c) 2003, Kellis



"I _suck_."

I had pulled up to the curb beside her, dropped the window, given
her my brightest smile and said, "Honey, what's your name?"  That
was her response -- with emphasis on the last syllable.

I had to think a moment.  "You couldn't mean 'Isaac.'  Say that
again."

She said very distinctly, "I ... suck."

"What kind of name is that?"

Her round, faintly oriental face didn't smile.  Her hair was
medium brown, which could be dyed, but her eyes were a clear
green, rare and hard to fake even under the nearby orange
streetlight; I knew only one person with eyes like that.  She
wore black-rimmed circular glasses that added to the oriental
perception.  Otherwise she was dressed like her sisters in a knit
tank top with bare midriff, a very short skirt over bare legs and
platform high heels.  She had a slim figure and the legs were
shapely.  If she tossed the utilitarian specs and did something
to the dangling shoulder-length hair she'd be a looker.

"I suck," she said again, shaking her head.  The combination
wouldn't make much sense to most guys.

Another one lounged nearby, holding up the streetlight pole.  I
leaned toward her in the car window and asked, "Do you know what
she's saying?"

This one, a much more substantial specimen, giggled and thrust
her pelvis at me.  "What we's all saying."

"Huh?  I asked her what's her name."

"Who gives a shit?  She's telling you the important stuff: what
she _do_."

"You don't mean that she _sucks_!  Hell, you all do that."

"Guess she's proud of it."  Again the big girl giggled.  "The
skinny ones gotta try harder."

"Okay." I redirected my attention to green-eyes and said, trying
to be cutely sarcastic, "You want me to call you Sucker?"

She shrugged indifferently.  Her eyes were magnified behind the
glasses that weren't fake either.

I gave the surroundings a longer look: typical evening scene of
closed offices with several cars moving and pedestrians farther
up the sidewalk.  The big girl against the lamppost was the only
visible witness.  Parking was forbidden on this side of the
street but unlighted cars were solid on the other side.

I said to the biggie, "Do _you_ know her name?"

"Never seen her before tonight."  The ready giggle sounded again.
"You 'bout the fourth to stop.  All she goes is 'I suck.'  What's
the matter with you guys tonight?  Don'cha like blowjobs no
more?"  At that her giggle turned into a bray of laughter.

"I get it.  You're the cop."

"Me, a cop?"  She guffawed.  "Hell no, I ain't no cop.  My main
man's trying out his new who'e and told me to fuck off, so here I
am -- off, anyway.  I'd've run Miss Four-eyes outa my stand 'cept
I might take her home with me.  And watching her fool with you
guys is a bash."

"How do I know you aren't a cop?"

"Hell, how do I know it of _you_?"  When I opened my mouth to
respond, she continued with a knowing leer, "Never mind.  I sees
you coming on to Four-eyes."

With a sniff I opened the passenger door and beckoned to the girl
with green eyes, whose head had been turning from one to the
other as we spoke.  But she shook her head and drew back.

I'm sure my surprise showed.  "What do you mean, _no_?  I don't
bite."

It took me a moment to classify her reaction.  Fear?  In a
street-walking whore?  But the girl skipped over to the leaning
woman and grabbed her wrist.

"What'cha doing?" the big one asked, swaying back.

Turning to stare at me from wide eyes, the girl declared in a low
voice, "Both of us."

I never heard of an entrapment arranged with two girls.  For sure
neither was packing a holstered gun.  Suddenly the idea of two --
_these_ two, one rather dainty and the other an obvious slut --
tickled my fancy despite the risk, and I made a quick decision.
"Okay," I agreed, beckoning again.  "Both of you."

"Well, shee-oot!" declared the biggie, straightening up, letting
Green-eyes lead her toward my car.  The girl slid in readily
enough.

Biggie went to the back door but Green-eyes still held her wrist,
craning to look up at her.  "Sit with me."

"Ain't room."

"Yes, there is," the girl insisted, giving the wrist a tug before
releasing it and clambering closer to me, one butt cheek atop the
CD console between the front seats.  Without further argument
Biggie plopped her broad bottom into the car and slammed the
door.  Green-eyes settled partly on the console and partly on the
woman's thigh while I congratulated myself for renting a roomy
Crown Vic.

"We not going far," declared Biggie, as if it made a difference.
One of her arms snaked around the girl's waist.

Fingering the passenger window closed, I pulled back into the
light traffic and darted a glance at my passengers.  Green-eyes
sat stiffly erect, bracing herself on the dash, staring straight
ahead.  Her profile was good despite the glasses.  The lips were
full and sensuous and the turned up nose too prominent for an
oriental.  At this range I could smell woman.  Apparently neither
wore perfume.

"Not too far," I soothed.  "At least you're off your feet."

"Yeah!" Biggie agreed with feeling.  She laughed.  "Funny how
working on yo' back makes yo' feet so sore."

"How about some names?  With two of you I can't very well say,
'Hey, you,' can I?"

The girl flicked me a glance but remained silent.  Biggie
answered, "They call me Doe."  She giggled.  "On account I ain't
got none."

"Spelled with G H, then?"

"With what?"

I saw a smile flash briefly on the girl's lips.  I nudged her arm
with my elbow.  "What's _your_ name?"

"Jane."

"_Jane_?  Well, at least I don't have to call you Sucker."

She said something else with the sound of, "But I do."

"That's not _all_ you do, is it?"

She didn't answer.  I remembered hearing my daughters use that
phrase pejoratively. "Hmm.  Is that the modern idiom?  Do you
mean you're not a good person?"

"I _suck_."

I chuckled slightly.  "We'll see when we get to the motel.  What
about you, Doe: what do _you_ do?"

"Everything.  You name it, I already did it in Peoria."

"In Peoria?"  I chuckled.  "Then you went on to Broadway, did
you?"

"Had a regular cathouse in Peoria till Caterpillar downsized."

The girl turned partly around.  "You raised cats?"

I could see enough of the woman's face to note the slowly
widening grin.  "Cocks," I said for her.  "She raised cocks."

"What?  Then why'd you call it a cat house?"

"'Cause it was the cats' playhouse."  Doe giggled.  "They'd've
made a mouse oughta you, Four-eyes."

"The name is _Jane_!"

"Jane and Doe!" I exclaimed.  "There's a combination!"

"Yeah, to cops," remarked the latter.  "You sure you ain't one?
What's _yo'_ name?"

"Call me Mick.  And I promise you I'm no cop, though I'm still
wondering about you two."

Doe sniffed.  "Already told you I ain't, and Four-eyes looks too
young.  Course, looks'll fool you."

The girl jerked unaccountably and twisted around to regard her
supporter.  "What're you doing?"

"Checking on just how young you are."  The woman giggled.
"Where's your panties?"

"You mean ... _you're_ wearing panties?"

Does's voice contained a grin.  "Somebody lift yours?"

"I ... didn't think you were supposed to wear any."

Doe laughed.  "Guess you ain't had it running down your legs
yet."

"Yes, I have too!"

"And went back for more, did you?  Hah!  Not that _I_ care.  But
you oughta keep this bush shaved.  You look about young enough to
be bald.  Some guys'll pay extra."

"I'm not a little girl," the little girl sneered but added
plaintively, "Is that your _thumb_?"

"It was.  How 'bout this?"

"Ooo!  That, that ...  Ooo!"

Doe giggled.  "You know how to pick 'em, Mick.  This is a wet
'un!"

Jane took a deep breath.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw her
rump tilt higher, probably to ease the woman's access.  But her
head turned to me.  "What makes you think I'm a cop?"

"I didn't say that.  But it's easy to prove."

"How?"

Doe sniggered.  "Reach over there and pick up his dick."

"His -- oh!"  I felt a hand fumbling in my crotch.  "Where is
it?" Jane asked after a moment.

Doe sniggered.  "You pro'ly have to unzip it."  Suddenly she
laughed.  "Pick Mick's dick!"  The laughter strengthened.
"Mickey's dickie!  Hey!  I know where to _stick_ Mick's dick."

"In a chick?" I asked, playing along.

"A chick's niche."  She pronounced it "nitch."

"A _niche_?  First time I ever heard it called that."

"Pussy don't rhyme.  Ha!  I'll stick Mick's dick in a slick
chick."  She exploded with pleased laughter that subsided to a
chuckle while she mouthed additional rhyming words.  I thought
about making something of "Doe, the who'e," but refrained.  Her
arm was under the girl's skirt, elbow twisting.

Jane apparently ignored that invasion while pursuing one of her
own in the darkness below the wheel.  She seemed intent on
discovery, as if she were ignorant or at least uncertain how male
clothing opened.  Perhaps her previous customers had spared her
the chore.  If she actually took cock in hand, I was willing to
believe her innocent of entrapment, especially before a witness.

When her fingers finally closed on flaccid meat, I said, "Let's
get our relationship straight.  What would you do for a thousand
dollars?"

Big Doe snorted.  "Turn herself inside out."

"How about a hundred?"

"Like she said: suck."

"Oh, no.  She'll do that for 50."

I waited for the reaction.  That was the going price for a quick
blowjob as of my last quote.  They were silent.  Apparently
supply and demand were holding steady.

Making several unnecessary turns, I studied the mirrors but saw
nothing of a follower.  If either girl was wired, of course, the
monitor wouldn't have to stay closed up.  Though in that case the
lack of leading questions was surprising.  Unless the wire was
the type that only emitted a location.  Maybe the wearer was
nervous.  Maybe she was an idiot.  But I doubted that.  In my
experience whores tend to be brighter than average women.  To
survive in this trade they need to be.

Jane was still curious.  "Why isn't it erect?"

"Say what?" asked Doe in disbelief.

The question suggested greater gallantry in previous customers.
"I'm no teenager," I defended.

Doe snorted.  "No, I mean, what's this 'erect' shit?  Say,
Four-eyes, are you one of them college sluts?"

When she didn't answer, I suggested placatingly, "You only need
to work it a little."

She peeled the foreskin back, disclosing some familiarity with
the objective, and leaned closer, bringing her other hand to
bear.  Oddly exploratory fingers slithered all around.

I pressed the button on the armrest.  With an electrical whine
the seat slid several inches toward the rear.  Stretching to keep
foot on the accelerator, I suggested, "Your mouth would work it
even better."

"M-my mouth?"

The lights of a following car lit her pale face, eyes staring
into mine.  "You know," I added: "what you were advertising."

"You mean ..."

"You _do_ suck, or so you claim."

"Oh!"

She took a deep breath.  Her butt slid more onto the ample
adjacent lap and her head went down.  Her objective had grown
enough for lips to close over it readily.  Indeed she began to
suck.

Ah, a blowjob while driving!  Luxuriating in it, appreciating the
curious combination of heat and cool as the girl forgot to
breathe only through her nose, I glanced at Doe, who stared at me
in amusement.

"What you think o' _that_ trick, Mick?"

"Cool."

"Oh, yeah?  Do she know how?"

"Hard to screw this up," I said with a grin.  "What did you
discover at the other end?"

The woman sniffed.  "A _wet_ pussy that won't last."

"Last doing what?"

"Walking the streets."

"How can you tell?"

"She loves it too much.  You'll see."

"In just a moment."  I turned into the motel parking lot and let
the car roll up to a space near the unit I had previously rented.
The girls got out as I did and followed me, waiting stolidly
while I unlocked the door.  Inside I turned on the lights,
motioned them past me, closed the door and shot the two deadbolts
home.  This was not the best of neighborhoods.

Finally I got my first good look at Doe.  She was a big
light-skinned black with hair cut short over strong features,
animated as she looked approvingly around the cheap room.  "I
likes 'em on the ground floor."

"You'll like this too," I said, moving toward the rear.  "That's
the back door."

"Hey, hey!"  But her smile faded.  "Shit, the cops'll know 'bout
it too."

I checked the bathroom while they crowded behind me, Doe closest.
"You probably need that," I suggested, pointing to the toilet.
"Go ahead."

I stood aside.  The big woman leered at me.  "You gonna watch us
piss?"

"No, but go ahead.  I'll be right back."

I closed the door on them because I didn't want them to see me
check under the bed and behind the light fixtures.  Not that I
expected to find anything.  No one was keeping me under that kind
of surveillance, so far as I knew.  With Anabelle out of the
picture no one had cause to suspect my hobby.  You can never be
too careful, though, especially in my position.  In this town
we've made the penalties for prostitution more severe for the
john than the girl, which of course makes economic sense, given
that the other reason for prosecuting whores is the additional
revenue.  I'm surprised that some jurisdictions have yet to
outlaw it.

The main reason?  Recreation for the cops, of course.  They do
love to bust whores.  Arresting women accustomed to sexual payoff
is a delightful exercise of power, even for the female cops, and
risk-free if you wear a plastic visor.

I did a thorough job.  The room was clean, not so much of dirt
but of electronic eavesdroppers.  I returned to the bathroom to
find that big Doe had already stripped little Jane completely.
The smaller body was shapely but very pale in the harsh bathroom
light, adorned with pinkish-brown conical nipples.  Legs and
underarms were shaven but not the pubes.  Her butt cheeks rested
on the edge of the sink while she braced with hands on either
side.  Bare toes touched the tile floor but not heels.  Her mouth
hung open while darker hands stroked between the legs.

Doe, kneeling, leered at me over her shoulder, her mouth
glistening with moisture.  "Here's a sweet one for you to lick,
Mick."

"I see you ought to know, Doe.  But show me what _you've_ got,
too."

Her grin vanished.  "You mean you do want us both?"

I crossed my arms and leaned against the closed door.  "Let me
see you."

"You don't want me; you want this young'un.  I'll help you get
all she's got."

"Don't jump to conclusions.  I like big girls too.  Give me a
show, Doe."

She grimaced and slipped the purse strap off her shoulder,
dropping the heavy article onto the toilet lid with a tinkle and
a thud that made me curious.  While her tank-top went over her
head, my hand darted into the bag, found the gun and brought it
out.  She tossed the garment atop the bag.  Her eyes glowed
whitely when she saw what I held.

"That's _mine_!"

"And a pretty good replica it is, too," I said with a grin,
inspecting the black-painted depression where a muzzle should
have been.  I dropped it back into the bag.

"Stay outa my damn purse!"

"I shall -- and would have if you hadn't showed me how heavy it
was."

The girl's eyes had also widened.  "Replica?  You carry a fake
gun?"

"It fools 'em long enough," said Doe defensively.

"If they don't get too close," I agreed.  "Just don't draw it on
a cop."

"A _fake_?" the girl repeated incredulously.

"'Cause I really don' wanta shoot nobody," the big woman
explained morosely.

"But what if it doesn't scare them?"

Doe shrugged.  "Then they gets whatever they wants."  She grinned
at me suddenly.  "Course they does that anyhow."

Hands contorted behind her and unhooked her bra, releasing a pair
of tits large enough to spread across the entire wide chest, as
large as any I've ever seen, rounded out with huge dark nipples
and less sag than you'd expect.

"What a nice rack!" I exclaimed involuntarily.

"'Specially for a doe," the big woman noted and laughed
uproariously.  The girl eyed the extensive flesh in wonder.

I backed through the door.  "Bring your clothes out here.  Then
how about let's all take a shower together?"

"A shower?" repeated Doe with evident surprise.  But the girl
hopped down from the edge of the sink to inspect the other side
of the room.

"I'll be right back," I told them again and went out to throw my
clothes over a chair.  Doe soon followed, bearing her own and the
girl's clothing plus her purse, which she piled on the empty
suitcase rack.  She was heavily built with buttocks plump to
match her breasts and a few stretch marks on her belly but
without blemish otherwise.  Despite its size her body was
shapely.  She was a handsome, thirtyish woman, well fleshed in
arms and legs.

Beyond her through the bathroom door I heard the shower start up.
Doe looked me up and down too.  "What's that belt 'tween your
neck and armpit?"

"Money."

"Speaking of that ..."

I had anticipated her and extended two fifties between thumb and
forefinger.  She took them, whirled around and stuffed them into
her purse.  The spinning action lifted her tits nicely.  She
looked back over her shoulder.  "This ain't for Four-eyes too."

I shrugged.

"What'chou gonna do for her?"

"Let her ask."

The woman sneered.  "Maybe she learn to collect beforehand."

"You think she's no pro, Doe?"

She nodded.  "'No pro,' go Doe."

"Well, she'll learn _I_ only stiff with this," I said, thrusting
with my hips.

Doe frowned.  "And that needs work."

Hand extended, she sidled against me, but I caught her shoulders
and gently turned her around.  "Let's join Jane."

"Can't you do no better'n that?" she asked humorously, taking
hold of me again with a hand behind her.  "We'll 'splain to Jane.
Ha, I got it!"  She produced an anticipatory giggle.  "We'll
_train_ Jane!"

Kneading a massive butt cheek with one hand, I followed the woman
into the bathroom.  Steam was billowing above the closed shower
curtain.  I reached in and switched the water from showerhead to
tub spigot before opening the curtain.  Doe stepped over the edge
and embraced the girl while I adjusted the water temperature to
eliminate the steam.  Females always set it far too hot.

Doe pointed to my money loop.  "Ain't you worried about that?"

"No, the pouch is waterproof."

When I joined them and restored the spray, the girl gasped, "Ooo,
that's cold!"

"Pleasantly warm," I countered, pulling her backwards against me,
hands on belly and tits.

The big woman gathered both of us into her ample flesh.  She said
comfortingly to Jane, "Don't you worry none.  You gonna be snug
as a bug in a rug."

"If you let me breathe," said the girl tartly, her voiced muffled
in Doe's neck but understandable despite the hiss of the shower.

I had unwrapped a bar of soap, which I proceeded to scrub over as
much flesh as I could reach on both women, then on myself,
especially my hardening root.  I pushed the bar into Doe's large
hand, stooped and guided myself up between Jane's legs.  She
twisted her head to study my face.  I don't know what she
expected to see on it, but I leered at her just as the soapy knob
parted her nether lips and penetrated two or three inches even
from that strained position.

Upper lips formed the same O as the lower ones, except
voluntarily.  "Ooo!  You're doing it!"

"Doing what?" asked the big woman, but received her answer when
the girl's hips rotated.  The hand pressing my back released me
and snaked down between the female bodies.  Doe grinned at me and
stuck a finger into the girl alongside, then above my cock.  Two
fingers, by god!

"Heh, heh!" chuckled Doe.  "I thought you meant he was poking
your asshole.  This ain't nothing.  See how _this_ feels!"

Her fingernail vibrated against my knob.  But I understood her
objective to be the girl's clit, and guessed she was compressing
it between thumb outside and fingers within.

Jane shuddered between us, wailing, "What're you _doing_ to me!"

"It's what we come for," answered the woman, stooping enough to
reach between the girl's legs and cup my balls in her other hand.

With my hands free I could examine the huge breasts, which I did
while continuing to pump languidly between soft vagina and bony
fingers, an interesting comparison in itself.  The dark nipples
puckered to nearly an inch of length.  Tweaking them made the big
woman sigh, though she offered no resistance.  My hand wandered
down her round belly to the neatly shaven thatch and parted the
meaty lips.  I slipped in two fingers, then two more, and
squeezed a surprisingly large clit with my thumb.

The inserted fingers felt her sphincters contract.  I said, "You
like it too, I see."

"Who don't?"  She released my balls and straightened up,
thrusting her cunt forward and adding, "But a gal's hand do it
better."

"Fair enough."  I caught one of Jane's hands and brought it down
beside my busy one.  In curiosity at the fit, I straightened her
fingers and thumb into a parallel projection and thrust them into
the woman beside my own fingers.  The knuckles met slight
resistance, but in went the hand to the wrist beside my own
contribution.

"Oh!" grunted the woman, wide eyes shining whitely at me.

"Here's your girl's hand," I smirked.

"My god!" exclaimed Jane.  Her fingers clasped mine inside the
woman.  Her head turned to stare at me askance over her shoulder.
"You put my whole hand in ... in ..."

"Say it, Jane," I said with a leer.  "Say, 'In Doe's pussy.'"

She said only, "I can't believe it," but made no effort to pull
out.

Doe was grinning at her.  "Wha'chou think o' that, honey?"

"It's ... it's ... oh, god, it's terrible!"

Perhaps it was, but the grip on my dick head was suddenly wet as
a slobbering mouth, which gave me an idea.

"We're clean enough," I pronounced.  "Come on.  Let's dry off and
try a trick on the bed."

"Easy coming out!" warned Doe.  She clutched the girl's arm,
guaranteeing the gradualism.

We dried each other with the two bath towels.  Neither female
worried about frizzy hair.  When we departed the bathroom, I
couldn't help noticing the damp and seemingly electrified
coiffure that adorned each.

"What you grinning at, Mick?" asked Doe with a sniff.  "It'll be
dry when you get through and that's why we got brushes and
combs."

She threw off the bedclothes and paused beside the bed.  "How you
want us?"

"I'll show you."

It was a cheap Hollywood queen-size without sides or footboard,
but the motel, familiar with its trade, had installed a large
mirror behind the padded headboard and inset a bright lamp in the
low ceiling.  I sat Doe down on the foot of the bed.  "Lay back
and keep your feet on the floor."

"Reach me a pillow, honey," she instructed the girl.

"Get both of them," I said, turning away to lift the easy chair's
thick cushion.  "Put this under your hips, Doe.  Jane, put both
those pillows under the small of her back."

When the woman was elevated to my requirements, I added, "Now,
Jane, you get on top of her backwards."

"On my back?"

"On your 69."

Her brow wrinkled momentarily in a puzzled stare before the light
dawned.  She crawled onto the bed and swung her haunches over
Doe's face.  "Like this?"

"You's a kick, Mick," the woman declared breathily, hands rising
to clasp the younger hips.  Jane leaned forward, braced herself
on the edge of the bed.  I took a moment to fondle her soft
nipples, which crinkled under my attention.  Her eyes stared
through me in clear astonishment, though I understood not from
_my_ effort!  In the mirror past her shoulder I saw Doe's
forehead projecting from between the pale buttocks, nose in the
crack.

"Ooo!" breathed the girl.

"What's she doing?" I asked jocularly.

She flashed me a glance.  "You know."

"Tell me."

Her face tightened, lips drawn back.  I ordered, "Lean down and
return the favor."

My words took a moment to penetrate.  "Wh-what?" she mumbled,
focusing with difficulty on my face.

"Didn't you ever lick a clit?"

Her eyes were huge.  "That's what she's doing!"

I had to chuckle.  "Didn't you guess that's what she likes?"  I
pulled gently on her shoulders.  "Down, Jane, down!"

She gave me a doubtful look but lowered head and shoulders
obediently.  I stooped to watch.  Her tongue tip appeared, met
the folds around Doe's ample clit hood, and darted back as if
burned by the touch.  Wide eyes turned up to mine.  I opened my
mouth to encourage her, but her head dropped again.  Her tongue
reappeared wider and began to lap.

"Now you're getting the idea," I told her.  I watched for a
while, then reached under her face, worked three fingers into the
sodden vagina, stirred them around and withdrew to slide them
over the girl's tongue.

"Suck!"

She hesitated but the fingers were already in her mouth.  The
juice soaking them burbled with her suction.

I let her continue briefly.  "Back to the clit now," I said,
straightening up.

Doe's considerable weight compressed the chair cushion more than
I'd expected.  I thought of slipping the telephone book beneath
it, except the book was chained to the telephone stand.  I would
just have to crouch enough for alignment.  But when a dick sniffs
willing pussy, what's a little extra effort?

Working the knob side-to-side, I slipped into Doe's wet cavity,
causing the surroundings to quiver.  The girl craned her head
around to stare upward past my belly.

"Keep licking," I told her, establishing a slow rhythm.

She returned to her work.  I touched her temples and cheeks,
feeling the jawbone flex.  "Lengthen your stroke.  Lap the top of
my dick too."

Her tongue was distinctly warm.  I made my strokes shallow,
crouching lower to give it room to work.  Doe's hips trembled but
lay still otherwise, not yet ready to rock.  In the mirror I
could see only wiry black hair balled under the girl's butt
cheeks like a long beard.  I wondered whimsically if anyone had
ever had pubes so luxurious.

I took a handful of medium brown hair and raised Jane's head,
withdrawing my cock and presenting the knob to her lips.
"Wider," I advised.

She gaped up at me, I'm confident more in surprise than
obedience.  I gave her a thrust all the way to the back of the
throat.  Her eyes actually crossed.  She gagged but closed her
lips.  I felt her teeth touch me, but she didn't bite.  I left
the long cock in place for a moment while her chin trembled.

"Suck it."

She backed away slightly, slurping, now with eyes closed.  I
began a slow stroke and soon chuckled.  "You're blushing, Jane.
What's the matter?  You did almost this much in the car."

Shaking her head, she held her peace until I withdrew, when she
looked up at me and declared testily despite the drool
overflowing her bottom lip, "It was dark in the car!"

"You don't like me watching?"

"It's ... embarrassing in the light."

I chuckled.  "Not to me!  Slip it back into Doe."

Her hand snaked up and guided me.  She added, "And it's longer
now than in the car."

"Maybe Doe can teach you how to avoid gagging."

She grunted and without being told resumed licking the lumpy
clit, extending her tongue to the top of my dick on each partial
withdrawal.  She proved a fast study.  This time when I pulled
out, she automatically raised her head, opened her mouth
expectantly and slurped me in.

I plowed back and forth between the two women for a while, giving
each furrow a couple dozen strokes.  At my age most men are good
for several minutes of the old in-and-out.  As I am, usually, but
this combination of dark marbled thighs hanging off the bed under
a bobbing head of brown hair, the alternation between slick loose
pussy and raspy tongue in toothy mouth, plus the girl's gulps and
slobbers, was altogether too compelling.  Up came my first
squirt, as it happened, into the back of Jane's throat.
Fortunately she was exhaling.  I pulled it out of her in time for
the second and most powerful gush to splash her face, then shoved
into the red gash beneath her chin.  In my experience no other
semen depository compares to a well-stirred pussy.

Doe must have felt it.  _Now_ her hips began to roll.  I plowed
gamely on, pushing the girl's head down until she was licking
again.  Grunts arose from the pure female end of our connection
while sphincters squeezed out my last dribbles.  Doe's wet face
finally appeared upside down in the mirror, red mouth gaping for
breath.  I smiled with doubled pleasure.  Apparently she had approved
our threesome strongly.  I couldn't recall the last time a whore came
on my cock, even though the pussy in this one's face was probably
the stronger reason.

When I finally backed completely away, Jane looked up at me, a
streak of thin cream decorating her forehead and dripping from
the tip of her nose.  "It swells up," she said in a tone of
confirmation.

"What does?" I asked.

"The bald part on the end.  I noticed it before, just before they
shot.  It swells up in your mouth too!"

"Why not?"  I grinned in amusement at her ingenuousness.  If
feigned, she was a great little actress.

She shook her head.  "But why _should_ it?  What's the advantage?"

A fair question!  I remembered my own youthful curiosity.

Her expression of wonder vanished suddenly.  She gasped in shock.
Her mouth fell open and her eyes lost focus.  "Oh, god!" she
cried, twisting head and shoulders around.  "What're you putting
_into_ me?"

One of Doe's elbows, both of which had been elevated around the
girl's back and hips, had disappeared.  In the mirror the reason
was obvious.  The big woman had inserted an entire hand, nearly
as large as mine, into the young twat.  I stared in fascination
at the dark wrist seemingly gripped by inflamed labia.

The girl's face was nearly as red.  Her mouth, still drooling,
hung open but her eyes were clenched shut.  Her body shook to the
rhythm of the arm pistonning behind her.  She moaned, a long
wavering cry, and hunched her shoulders: a study in thrilling
anguish.

I've seen the videos of women with whole hands working inside
their cunts -- three in one case -- but such women were typically
far older than this girl.  Could they possibly enjoy such
distention?  I'd wondered if money was their only reason to
submit but doubted the "only."  Presumably money was Jane's
motive, even if for a cock instead of a whole hand.
Significantly, however, she offered neither word of protest nor
move of escape.

Doe had tilted her dark face back to free her mouth.  Her eyes
found mine in the mirror.  "You's the kind who likes this.  Come
'round here and I'll show you."

I clambered onto the bed past the wailing girl, whose torso had
begun to quiver.  When I paused in a crouch with my head near
Doe's, she sniffed.  "I mean I show yo' dick, Mick.  Get it down
here."

She had inserted three fingers of her other hand to the knuckles
into the girl's rectum.  She withdrew them, shining greasily in
the bright overhead, and looked up at me expectantly from under
the gaping anus.

I raised my voice.  "Shouldn't we ask first?"

"Huh!  She can't hear you.  Shove it in.  It's ready."

I chuckled deprecatingly.  "But I'm not."

"Oh, yeah.  Well, stick it down here first."

For a second I thought incredulously that she meant beside her
embedded hand, but as my cock approached she caught it with the
hand freed from rectal duty and popped it into her mouth.  The
thick dark lips puckered around my half-flab.  I recalled
standing beside a restaurant table and fucking a whore's face
that was hanging upside down off the edge while my roommate
plowed her other end.  I was a lot younger then, but Doe's tongue
and the swell of her throat during deep pushes made up for age.
Maybe it was the strong odor of cunt.  In any case I was firm
again in half a minute.

She caught the base and positioned my wet knob against the girl.
At first I met resistance, but that faded and my cock slipped in
easily.  I soon discovered that her sphincter was opening and
closing to the rhythm of her wails.  Apparently she was coming
continually.

The novel circumstances were absolutely fascinating.  My whole
belly tingled in appreciation.  I began fucking madly, two or
three strokes to every one of Doe's hand.  Jane must have felt
the plunging cock.  Her moans became soft screams, gradually
growing louder.  Her back and buttocks reddened also.  She bucked
backward and forward.  My swinging balls beat Doe's face.

Now the bed frame was clapping against the wall.  The noise was
becoming worrisome.  This cheap motel hardly sported soundproof
rooms.  I wondered what the neighbors, if any, would make of such
throaty screams.  Would they think of sex or torture?

Obviously this would have to stop.  And it did.  Before I could
quite find the courage to deny further indulgence, the girl fell
forward, freeing herself both of hand and cock.  Her upper body
pitched downward to the floor.  Asshole and cunt gaped,
glistening crimson in the center of elevated buttocks.  Her legs
had straightened beside me.  Her cunt was perched just above
Doe's.  Her back heaved with heavy breathing.  Otherwise she lay
silent and unmoving.

Doe asked with a leer, "How'ja like _them_ goodies?"

"Is she ... all right?"

The woman chuckled.  "You done knocked her out."

"I _what_?"

"Better go get a glass of cold water."

I obeyed with alacrity.  When I returned from the bathroom, Doe
was sitting up on the end of the bed, cradling the girl in her
ample lap.  The contrast of opulent dark and slim pale female
flesh would have been interesting under other circumstances.

"She's out cold," said Doe.  "Flick some of that in her face."

I dipped my fingers into the water and obeyed again.  The girl's
eyelids fluttered open.  She looked from me to Doe, eyes round as
saucers.  "Oh, god!"

"Where do you hurt?" I asked.

"Hurt?"  She smiled dreamily and shook her head.  "I'll never
hurt again."

"Yes, you will too," cautioned Doe.  "You gonna be sore tomorrow
morning."

Jane shrugged.  "I don't care.  Oh god, I didn't think just two
could do it."

"Do _it_?" I asked.

"Send me off."

Doe studied the girl's face.  "Send you off where, honey?"

"It's not a place -- unless it's heaven.  I want to go back."

Doe shook her head.  "Po'r child."  She looked up at me.  "Got
anything to drink in here?"

"I have a little whisky."

"How 'bout a slug?"  She gestured to my still erect cock.  "And
you ain't finished."

The girl's flush was fading but I saw no reason to doubt the
euphoria.  In fact I was curious and wondered if she would talk.
Not many whores will do that believably; most will 
say only what they think you want to hear.  So I fetched the 
plastic cups from the bathroom, another glass of water for 
chasers and the pint flask of bourbon from my jacket.  Doe needed 
no chaser.  Jane, still in the woman's lap, took a sip, made a 
face, and followed a stronger sip with a gulp of water.

"What did you mean," I asked when she looked up at me, licking
her lips, "you didn't think 'just two could do it?'  How many did
it take before?"

Her eyes narrowed but she answered readily enough, "72."

"Ah ... _72_?  72 what?"

"Penises."  She smiled slightly, eyes distant.  "Actually a lot
less.  I was in heaven before half of them could take their
turns."

Doe winked ostentatiously at me.  I understood her meaning: _Let
me sell you my bridge in Brooklyn_.  But the tone and manner
didn't fit with braggadocio.  I made sure to keep my own
expression interested, which wasn't hard.  Even lies about sex
are enjoyable when they come from female mouths.

"You're saying 72 of them took turns?  How do you know."

"Teague counted them.  He's gay."

"Gay?  Why do you say that?"

"He was the only one who didn't do me.  He made a peephole so he
could see what the other boys had."

"Ah ..."  Several possibilities flashed across my mind.  "What
exactly happened, Jane?"

"Teague arranged it.  He said nobody goes to the furnace room in
the school basement since they put in a gas furnace.  He laid an
air mattress on the floor and told the senior class I'd be there.
72 of them sneaked in to see me after dinner."  She giggled.
"More were waiting their turns when Coach McQuouen broke it up."

That name finally rang a bell.  "When did this happen, Jane?"

"About a month ago."

Doe grunted.  "You get your next ragging?"

"Oh, yes.  I'm on the pill."

Christ, I'd heard this story!  McQuouen wouldn't name the girl
and his report of the numbers was "half the senior class and
probably a lot of juniors."  So our Jane was the one!  I'm sure
my eyes betrayed my excitement.  Doe grinned at me knowingly.

I asked, "What happened the next day?"

She shrugged.  "They wouldn't let me come back to that school."

Which agreed with McQuouen's account.  Apparently even without
Jane's presence the place had seethed with prurient propositions 
and graffiti.

"Whose idea was this, your friend Teague's?"

"They threw him out too."

"What made Teague think you'd agree to such a thing?"

Her eyes narrowed.  "Are you going to lecture me too?"

"No, my dear.  Believe me, I admire your pluck."  Almost as much
as I admired my own failure to produce a daughter as plucky, I
didn't say!  "And you picked the right crowd.  High-school boys
are about as safe as you can find for a girl on the pill.  But
what put you up to it?  You can probably guess how rare it is for
a girl to do this."  I hastened to add, "Though it's not unheard
of.  What line did he use?"

"Line?  Oh."  She hesitated and chuckled slightly.  "Actually I
asked him."

"_Did_ you!"

She took a breath.  "Teague and I grew up together.  He was my
first boy.  A grown man caught us together and showed us how ...
terrific it could be, even though I think he made Teague gay."
She sighed heavily.  "I tried other boys, but they were too quick
for me.  Until six did me at a picnic."

"Six," I repeated.  "Was that enough?"

"Almost.  But it gave me an idea.  If a few boys were too quick,
how about a whole lot of them?  Oh, wow, did _that_ work!"

"Lucky girl!" I breathed.

Doe snorted at me.

"Not so lucky," said Jane dolefully.  "They've been lecturing me
ever since.  One minute I'm the most terrible slut who ever lived
and the next ..."

"Go on."

"Oh, what's the use?  I know it: I suck."

She lowered her head on the shoulder of the woman, who made
soothing sounds.

"But you didn't suck any of those 72, did you?"

"N-no."  She looked curiously around at me.  "Didn't I do it
right for you?"

"Well ..."

"I'll learn."  Her hand dropped to my cock.

Doe shook her head.  "You got a lot to learn, all right."

"Okay, I'll learn it."

"No, you won't.  Not soon enough.  You ain't right for this
business, honey."

"Why not?  What am I missing?"

"The right way to look at it."

"So tell me the right way."

"Did they throw you out at home too?"

"No."  The girl's eyes lowered.  "I ran away."

"When?" I asked.

"This morning."  Her eyes flashed.  "And if you try to make me go
back, you'll be sorry."

No doubt.  "I'll not make you do anything.  A girl who doesn't
mind my cock in her mouth or up her ass is my kind of girl."  So
long as she belongs to someone else.

She looked unconvinced but shrugged and turned her face to Doe.
"So what's the right way to think about it?"

The woman's eyes narrowed.  "Like a man."

"What?"

"You got to remember who's paying.  We do this to please _him_,
not us."

"Well ...  Those 72 boys were happy as Christmas."

"And so was you.  That's what I's saying.  You can't count on
getting pleased.  You has to do what he say do, even when yo'
back hurts and you's so sore you can't stand the thought of no
more dick.  But you run away 'cause you wanted to find the likes
of them boys, didn'chou?"

"I ... yes."  The girl smiled brightly.  "And I _did_ find it!"

"Mick and me, we ain't what you mostly gonna find, gal.  And you
mos' likely don't have the gut for it either."

The girl pressed her belly.  "What's wrong with my gut?"

"Oh, the men loves it!  But you gonna catch things that kills
you."

"Diseases?"

I was taking it all in, unable to recall such a discussion among
women of any class.  Was this the trick: get two of them
together?  But I detected a hole in this logic.  I asked, "Why
aren't _you_ worried about that, Doe?"

She looked at me with a twinkle.  "'Cause I's immune."

I had to laugh.  "Yeah, like I've got a ten-inch dick."

She shook her head.  "Not like that at all, 'cause you shore
ain't.  Amanda -- that's my sister -- been to school.  She say
the scientists gonna find out that some women, mostly us who'es,
has a born-in immunity to the fuck germs.  We's a good case.  Far
back as we can tell, our line is all who'es and none of us was
ever sick that way.  We don't pass it to the johns either."

"Remarkable!" I said, meaning remarkable that she believed such
malarkey.

"Yeah, ain't it!"  From the twinkle in her eyes I'm sure she
caught my drift.

"Why can't _I_ be immune?" asked Jane.

"'Cause yo' mammy and granny wa'n't who'es."

"How do you know?"  The girl grinned cynically at me.  "You're
right: I do seem different from other girls.  I had to get it
from somebody, didn't I?"

"Speaking o' getting it," said Doe, "Mick's done lost his
hard-on."  She giggled and reached for me.  "Mick's dick is sick,
but Doe's gonna fix."

I fended her off, shaking my head.  "Not tonight.  This kind of
banging is too strenuous for an old man."

"You're not old," Jane protested.

Doe had gratefully desisted.  She sniggered.  "He likes to hear
that."  She pushed Jane to her feet and stood up.  "Come on.
I'll show you how to wash so it don't stink."

"You can do that?" I asked as they passed before me.

The big woman snickered.  "Well, not too much."

"One moment."  I opened my pouch, fished out two fifties and
passed them to Jane.  "Your reward, my dear."

"Oh!" she said, staring at the money.  She took it hesitantly.

"Where you gonna put it?" asked Doe with a sneer.  "You ain't got
a purse or a bra or even panties."

"Will you hold it for me?"

Doe laughed but choked it off.  She nodded.  "Yeah, honey.  I'll
hold it.  Come on."

We rode back toward their stand in a contemplative silence.
Jane, oddly cooler to her big companion, sat in the back seat.
Now both reeked of cologne.  I was tempted to ask why they
omitted it beforehand, but found that my curiosity had weakened.
As exploratory subjects women become progressively less
interesting for the first hour or so after emptying one's balls.
Of course they soon freshen up again.

I stopped the car under the street lamp where I'd found them,
against the curb facing the wrong way.  Doe hopped out and came
around to my window.  "I'll be right here tomorrow night," she
said invitingly.

"That's too soon."  I grunted, then smiled to remove the sting.
"But you can bet I'm interested in an immune woman -- for more
than a quickie too."

She smiled back.  "Okay.  Keep yo' dick slick, Mick!"

"I'll have to write a limerick for you, Doe.  That name should be
easy."

"If it makes me laugh you gets a freebie.  Coming, honey?"

I glanced around at Jane, who sat unmoving in the back with
lowered head.  She raised it to look at me beseechingly.  "Can
you drop me, Mick?  It's not far."

"Sure."  To Doe I said, "She wants me to drop her somewhere.  See
you around."

Doe backed away.  "You better watch out, Mickey."

"For what?"

"Just watch out."  She turned her face away and plodded towards
her lamppost.

I pulled away from the curb and turned a quizzical glance over my
shoulder.  "Doe thinks you're up to something."

"I heard her," said the girl.

"And she's holding a C-note for you."

Obviously the money wasn't important.  Jane asked, "Can I talk to
you?  How about if I get in the front?"

"Okay.  I'll stop at the next traffic --"

But she swung legs and ass lithely over the CD console and
plopped into the empty seat.

"You're very graceful, Jane.  I thought only a kid could do
that."

"I guess I'm not much more than one," she said darkly.

"How much more?"

"I'm 15."

"You're ... _15_?"

She waved a hand.  "Don't let it worry you."

"I thought you said you're a senior."

"I'm a junior."

"Isn't 15 too young for that?"

"I'm bright.  I skipped a couple of grades."

"And you ran away from home this morning.  Good god!"

"What's the matter?"

"Your picture has probably already been plastered on TV."

She took a deep breath.  "I'm going back home."

"Ah ...  That's good.  For you."

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Ah, uh ...  Like what?"

"I know about statutory rape.  I told you, don't worry.  I
promise I won't tell anyone what I did today."

"What _did_ you do today?"

She sighed.  "Spent most of it in the library, trying to get up
the courage to go out on the street.  When I told myself I suck
enough times, I finally did it."

"Have you had anything to eat?"

"Yes.  An old man fed me supper."

"Is that how he paid you?"

"I guess.  Oh, you mean --  He didn't do anything but lick on me
in the alley behind the restaurant."

"You didn't blow him?"

"He only wanted to lick.  He said he loved the taste of young ...
stuff.  You're the first to be in my mouth since ...  And you
_are_ the first in my back place."

"I'm honored."

"I can tell," she said sarcastically.  She took a deep breath.
"I listened to what Doe said.  I'm sure she's right about this.
But what can I do, Mick?  Where can I find the ... trip to heaven
again?  And don't mention boyfriends.  What a joke they are!"

I thought about her question.  "You do know, don't you, that Doe
was as responsible for your pleasure tonight as I was -- maybe
more so."

"Queer shit!" she snarled, her first unladylike utterance.  "Doe
stuck her fingers and thumb up me in the car.  I stood it for
a while.  But sucking on you ...  Just smelling your thing makes
me wet.

"I know what you want to say: she put her whole hand in me.  Her
whole hand!  I wouldn't have believed it.  I hate to think about
it.  I let her get away with it because of you.  But I knew when
you got into the back place.  That's what really sent me!"

I silently paraphrased the bard: _Methinks she doth protest too
much_.

Until her next words.  "Mick, can you help me?"

"How?"

"Get me more men."

My turn to gape.  What a question!

What an opportunity!  I'm not queer, but sharing a woman with a
congenial man has always been my greatest turn-on.  Once I even
managed it with _four_ men at once.  God!  But the right men are
as hard, perhaps harder, to find than the woman willing to
indulge them.

I said cautiously, "Jane, you're only fifteen.  Some of the men I
know who might be interested have daughters that age."

I felt her eyes.  "You think that would stop them?"

I chuckled.  "Maybe not.  How did you get so cynical?"

"You can guess how: the man who taught Teague and me had two
daughters about my age.  He liked to pretend I was one, then the
other."

"A relative, was he?"

"I'll say nothing to harm him.  Then you _do_ have some men for
me!"

"Yes.  The trouble is, they're well known to a lot of people.
And I don't see how you could stay home and play this game.  You
can't keep running away."

"I'll run away just one more time.  Your friends could set me up
in an apartment in the suburbs."  Her voice brightened.  "I'll
get a wig and makeup.  This could be _fun_!"

I said dryly, "You're 15, all right."

"Well, I am!  Turn to the right."

My headlights swept over a tall, wrought-iron fence facing the
full length of the block.  When I straightened up, she said, "Let
me out in front of the gate."

But I recognized it.  A cold chill went over me.  I maintained
speed.

"Stop!  Where are you going?" she demanded, punching my shoulder.

"You live there, do you?"

"Huh?  Yes.  Let me out!"

"Is your name by any chance Jane Hanville?"

She ducked her head and said sullenly, "Jane is my middle name."

I took the next left and stopped beside Lexington Park,
thankfully deserted at this hour of the night.  "Jane, what in
the world am I going to do with you?"

"I told you: make me your kept woman.  Isn't that what you call
it?"

With a sigh I unlocked the doors, suggesting pointedly, "It's not
far and the streets are empty."

"Why won't you drop me?"

"Because I can't believe no one is watching the gate, even if the
mayor has hesitated before calling the police."

"Oh.  You know my father."

"Yes."

"Does he know you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, how can I get in touch with you?"

"Talk about the luck of the draw!"  I laughed bitterly.  "Why
fight it?  I guess you can call my office."

"What's the number?"

"I don't know.  Look it up.  I'm your father's commissioner of
police."



	END
Contact: kellis@dhp.com
More stories: http://www.kellistry.com

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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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