BEE-0842

Twice As Nice Nymph

by Kevin Harding



Chapter 1

I eat his cock. I take the big head into my mouth and lick it. I kneel between his legs with my breasts crushed against his thighs and taste the golden sweetness of his prick. I hold his balls in my hands. I like the heavy weight of them. His penis is rigid. Its thickness fills my mouth. I feel warm all over as I suck it. I move my hands higher. The hair on his belly is thick like a forest and I lose my fingers in it as I curl the wiry hairs around them. I keep eating him. I rub his hard muscular stomach. I stroke the smooth skin of his inner thighs.

I take his penis out of my mouth for a moment and look at it. It is beautiful. The skin is 'very smooth and wet. Near the base it is covered with tiny black hairs. I trace my fingers along the bulging purplish vein that runs up the underside of it. I grip his cock tighter and start to stroke it, sliding the taut outer skin in my fingers. This brings a few clear drops of scum out of the cockhead. I press my tongue and taste it, swallow it. I feel warmth flow through my body. It is a new experience for me, being with a stranger like this. I haven't been with any man but Graham since I've been married.

I press forward to take Eric's whole prick into my mouth again. I slide my lips down over the shaft. I love the way it fills my mouth. I love the feeling of his body straining beneath me. His hands cup my breasts now as I eat him. His fingertips press in against my taut nipples. I suck him harder, deeper. My pussy aches. I can feel the wetness gathering and trickling down my thighs as I kneel in front of him.

Suddenly I feel his whole body begin to shudder and I realize he is about to 'cum in my mouth. I would like that. But that would be the end of it. My pussy is hungry for him. I can't let it end now. Not when I've never even had his prick inside me.

I slip him out of my mouth again and press his hard cock against my cheek. I can feel him throbbing in my hand as he tries to hold back his cum. I look up at his face. His eyes are shut, his teeth gritted. A few drops ooze from the swollen cockhead but he manages to control himself. I feel his cock soften slightly in my hand. I kiss it. I lick away the drops that have escaped.

I let go of him, stand up and walk across the room to get a cigarette. For a moment I feel light-headed. I can feel his eyes following me. I take the cigarette off the dresser and light one. I see my nakedness in the mirror. My breasts are large and firm. My stomach is flat. My skin looks very smooth, pink almost with my excitement. A lock of hair hangs over my forehead. I brush it back.

I come back to the bed and stand in front of him. I puff the cigarette deeply, then hand it to him. He smokes it. His eyes are shut now. His body glistens with sweat from our lovemaking.

He opens his eyes again and hands the cigarette back to me. His eyes are very light blue. Clear. We don't say anything to each other but he sits up and puts his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him. He nuzzles his face in against my belly. I stand there naked, smoking, thrilled by his touch. I suck the smoke deep into my lungs. His hands slip down over my buttocks, cup them. I feel his lips brush the hair around my pussy.

"Shall I eat you now?" he asks.

"Yes." I say. I feel the excitement surge through my body.
I lie back on the bed. I feel him press nibbling kisses to my knees, then up along the smoothness of my thighs. He is kneeling on the floor now between my legs. My pussy is wet from the nearness of his mouth.

I feel his lips touch me. I feel his tongue dart in. I writhe under his touch, press my cunt against his mouth. I cum with a sudden shudder. I don't stop. I just keep rising to another, orgasm. Clutching the back of his neck, I pull him even tighter against me. His touch is electric. His tongue stabs my pussy and makes me cum.

I cum again and feel him licking me deep. My body dances under the caress of his mouth. I love him, eating me like this and biting me gently, chewing me. I feel as if I can't get enough of him.

He pauses for a moment and sits back on his legs. I prop myself up on my elbows and glance down over my slippery stomach at his face. I smile. He smiles back and presses a kiss against. my thigh.

"Why don't you come up here on the bed with me for awhile?" I say.
"All right ..." Eric says. He gets up slowly off the floor. His body looks immense, towering over me. He is handsome with rather wavy blond hair. His shoulders are broad. He has almost no hips. His penis juts out long and thick. I move back farther on the bed to make room for him.

We lie on our sides facing each other. Our tongues meet and intertwine. I can taste my own juice mingled with his saliva. My nipples tighten as he fondles my breasts. I feel the pressure build quickly. He strokes a nipple. In a moment I am on fire again. I cum from just the sensation of him rubbing my breasts. I think about the first time ...

I am eighteen. I am at the Fair, where I've gone with some other girls. We've ridden the octopus, the electric cars, played a few of the games along the midway. I am carrying a big doll that some boy won and gave to me. I watch the Ferris wheel go around and around.

I stand in front of the side show tent, listening to the barker trying to coax in the crowd. I am separated now from the rest of the girls but I don't mind that since I'm in a large group of people.

I notice him standing in the crowd only about ten feet away. A boy from my school. He is alone, too. He is a year or so younger than I am -- a dark-haired boy with nice skin and teeth. His name is Keith. I don't really know him very well, I've only been with him in a few classes at school. I glance his way for the third or fourth time and our eyes meet. I turn away quickly. A minute later I look back. He has drawn closer but is not looking towards me.

The barker finishes his speech. Some in the crowd buy tickets and follow him into the tent. Most just wander away. I walk along next to Keith. I stop to buckle my shoe and he holds the doll for me.

A voice on the loudspeaker announces the watermelon hunt. There are a dozen watermelons hidden within a mile of the fairgrounds, the voice says. There is no prize for finding a melon except getting to eat it but the hunt is always a big event at the Fair. I've gone hunting for watermelons the last two years with my girl friends. And before that with my parents. But I've never been able to find one.

"Shall we look for a melon together?" Keith asks. I nod. "Yes ..." I say.

We walk faster toward the edge of the fairgrounds. I feel that with Keith I will find a melon. We climb a fence and walk through a field of purple flowered clover. The sun is hot and I can feel the sweat dripping down my body. We scare up a pheasant and it scurries away. We walk through a field of wheat and I can feel the wheat stalks rubbing against my legs. Some of them reach my thighs beneath my skirt, sending a strange, warm feeling all through me. There are crows swooping and cawing over the field. I am thirsty.

We don't talk much. We pass beyond the wheat field into a maple woods. It is cooler there. Keith is intent on finding a melon. He searches every likely place. Hollow tree trunks. Behind big boulders. In clumps of bushes. As we come out of the woods at the far edge, we suddenly see an eagle. Its wings stretch to fill the sky as it swoops near us. Then it climbs, grows smaller, disappears.

Keith is excited by the sighting of the eagle. He has been very quiet up to now but after we see the eagle he begins to talk in long, disconnected, almost endless sentences. He says that he wishes he could fly, that he could be an eagle, that if he were he would fly over the fields over the woods across the continent. Over mountains and the ocean. He would fly high above the clouds, swoop down low into the valleys. He would fly to the sun.

We come to a farm. It looks abandoned. The walls of the farmhouse are half-collapsed. The fields around it are unplanted and hall of weeds and the stubble of other years. The barn though seems to be in good condition. The red paint is mostly gone from it but the walls are straight and look strong.

"I know this farm," Keith says. "I used to know the boy who lived here but they moved. It was a fine farm before that. The barn would be a good place to hide a melon. Let's look there."

"Okay ... we can rest a minute too. I'm hot. My legs are tired."

"It'll be cooler in the barn out of the sun. We can get a drink at the well."

We come to a fence. Keith holds apart the barbed strands so that I can step through. I gather up my skirt so as not to catch it. Keith vaults over the, fence after me. He pumps up the water at the well. It is deliciously cold and I drink until I am full.

We go into the barn. It smells of hay. At first it makes me sneeze. It is surprisingly cool inside. We look for a watermelon. The hay is piled up high on all sides. Keith says that it looks like old hay that has probably been here several summers. We climb a flimsy ladder into the loft and walk across the hay toward the small window at the end of the barn. The hay is springy but we sink halfway to our knees with each step.

We stand close to each other next to the window and look out. I can see the fields and woods we have crossed; beyond them are the fairgrounds with the Ferris wheel riding high over the tents. Keith suddenly says he thinks he sees the eagle again. He points and I see nothing but the drifting clouds and the blue of the sky. He says then that the eagle must be gone but he keeps looking out the window for it.

We sit down in the hay near the window. We lie back. It is warmer up here than it was below but I am tired and the hay is soft and I don't mind the heat. Keith puts his hands behind his head and draws one knee up. I look over at him and see that his eyes are shut. I wonder if he is thinking about the eagle. I close my eyes too. I feel myself dozing ...

I wake first. There is a smile across Keith's face as I nudge him. He opens his eyes. I notice how brown they are. They flutter shut again. I stare at him. Impulsively I lean over and kiss him.

I kiss him again, then lay my head against his chest. I hear the steady thudding of his heart. I can hear and feel him breathing in and out. He places his hand lightly on one of my breasts, doesn't move it, just rests it there. My nipples tingle. I am overwhelmed by the nearness of him, his touch. No boy has ever done more than kiss me before. I press my cheek in tighter against his chest.

"It's hot up here, isn't it?" I say.

"Yes ... but better than being in the sun."

"So stuffy though ... I'm sweating."

"We could take off some of our clothes ... we'd be cooler then."

"I don't know ... I've never done that."

"I don't mean everything."

"My dress ...?"

"Yes. That's all."'

"I can't. I don't have on a slip beneath."

"But you have other things."

"Yes ... not much though. I really don't think I should."

"It'd be just your dress. I could break out the window then and the breeze would blow on us. Shall we ...?"

"All right ... only for a minute. Just my dress. Why don't you do the window first ... break it."

He slips off his shoe, stands up and breaks the window with it. He knocks away the pieces of jagged glass that remain. He stands there a minute as if looking again for the eagle. I can feel the air blow cool against my face.

"The breeze feels good," I say.

"Yes ..." He sits down again next to me and peels off his shirt. His bare chest is very tan. He doesn't say anything more about my dress.

I sit-up and pull the dress up over my hips, then my head. I lie back in the hay again, still holding the dress in my hand. I feel very naked in just my flimsy white bra and panties. The hay itches my thighs. Keith gazes down at me. I start to cover myself with my hands but stop and let my arms lie at my sides. "What about you now?" I ask. "You've only taken off your shirt. I don't want to be the only one like this."

He doesn't answer but quickly pulls off his other shoe, then his pants. His shorts hug his body and I can see the shape of his penis. It looks thick and mysterious.

We lie there a few minutes not moving, not speaking, just letting the breeze blow against our skin. Keith keeps glancing down over my stomach at my panties. I know that he can see the puff of dark hair beneath them. Our legs brush. I see the bulge beneath his shorts suddenly rise, see the shape of the tip of his penis stretch out against them.

He looks huge to me. Immense. The sight of him like this, the touch of his skin on mine intoxicates me. I press my leg harder against his. He rolls over on his side and I feel the hardness of his penis pushing against my thigh just a few inches below the edge of my panties. I push back against him.

He cups my breast through the thin cotton of my bra. I help him when he reaches behind my back to undo the snap. I wriggle the loosened bra down over my shoulders. I am naked now except for my panties. I close my eyes and wait for the touch of his hand. My nipples ache. And then I feel his fingertips ... cool ... gentle ... easy against my breasts.

He caresses me there for a minute, then his hand moves to my thigh, slowly toward my pussy. I am quivering all over from just the thought of what is going to happen. His fingers reach my panties, move under the elastic hem. In a moment they are pressing cool against the smooth moist skin of my vagina. They move lower, find my opening, move deeper in. I am on fire now. I cannot think. I feel myself explode and I lie there for a minute enjoying the intense warm feeling in my belly.

When I open my eyes at last, I am startled to see Keith's penis poking out of his shorts. I stare at it. I am drawn to it. I reach out hesitantly to touch it. It is surprisingly hard. It feels enormous in my hand. I feel its warmth.

We keep caressing each other. The tip of Keith's penis presses against my stomach as I hold it in my hand. I slide up a little in the hay so that it rubs against my panties. The lips of my pussy grow wetter. I wish I didn't have the panties on. I want to feel him closer to me. I want to feel his bare skin rubbing against mine. I want to feel his penis inside me.

We kiss. He rubs my breasts. I keep rubbing myself against him, waiting for him to take off my panties. But he just keeps stroking me. He seems hesitant about doing anything more. But I don't want it to stop at this. I want it all to happen now. I need to have it happen. I rub his penis and think about how good it would feel to have it push inside me. I strain forward harder against him.

"Shall we take off our other things now?" I ask. " ... my panties?"

"... you want to?"

"Yes. Should I? I'm going to." I lift up slightly so that I can slide my panties down over my hips.

When they are halfway down my thighs, I grasp his penis again and hold the tip of it against my pussy. It feels wonderful to have him touching me there like this but I want to have him inside me now. I pull off my panties the rest of the way and roll over on my back. He moves over me. I spread my thighs to take him.

He pushes slowly in. It feels enormous. Everything is spinning. I feel something in me stretching ... breaking. It hurts. It feels deliciously good. I buck up hard against him. My skin tears, breaks. He slides all the way in.

I never imagined it could feel anything like this. He begins to move in and out of me. I thrust myself up against him. I can't believe that I am actually fucking.

We keep pushing ourselves against each other. I keep climbing. I sense that it is almost over. I feel myself about to burst again. I know that this time it will be a feeling even more intense than before. I hear Keith groan. His body shudders. I am shaking all over. I feel a warm, sweet flood inside me. I keep climbing ... climbing. The feeling goes on and on ...



Chapter 2

Eric fucks me. I love the feeling of his big prick rubbing on the walls of my cunt. My thoughts of the barn and Keith fade. I lock my legs around Eric's back and pull myself up against him. We fuck beautifully together as if we've been doing it with each other for years. He brings me to a climax again and again with hard rapid strokes that almost make him cum too. Each time, he stops for a moment, holds back, then starts in again.

We fuck. I thrill to the feeling of his strange new prick inside me. It's been a dozen years since that day in the barn and since then, I haven't experienced anything so great. I feel the wet smooth skin of my cunt clinging to the hardness of Eric's cock. I fuck. I feel myself being fucked. I ache with the good feeling of it. My cunt stretches, distends, clings. I feel the tension build and I know that it is almost over.

I don't want it to end. I want it to last and last. I only want to feel. The moment must go on and on. There can't be anything else. Only this. Please don't let it end. I can't stand to have it end. Oh yes, fill me with your prick. Fuck me. Keep fucking me. Cum in me ... please cum in me. Fuck me. Oh, I feel it shooting into me; so good. Fill me with hot cum.

I go back home to Graham. I take a taxi. The driver talks constantly but I don't hear anything he says. I think I am still with Eric. His warmth keeps flowing sweetly through me.

The cab turns the corner. I am only two blocks from the house. The sweetness, the warmth disappears. Everything is cold. I wonder if Graham will be able to see it in my eyes that I have been with another man. I shift my position in the seat so that I can see my face in the rear view mirror. I look the same.

"We're here ma'am ... this is it, isn't it ... 6330?"

I dig in my purse for my wallet, pay the driver. I get out and walk stiffly up the flagstone walk to the door. I hear the cab pull away.

I let myself in. Graham isn't home. I don't call out his name but I can sense it right away. I feel my muscles relax, the tension go out of me. The house is quiet. I sink down on the big sofa in front of the fireplace.

Three hours later and Graham still isn't here. It isn't unusual for him to be late so I don't think much about it. I've taken a bath and put on a housecoat. I've had a small supper and three drinks. I am sitting on our sun porch now because I like the feeling of the breeze blowing my hair. I've pulled the housecoat halfway up my thighs.

The drinks relax me at first, then begin to depress me. I start to feel guilty for having been with Eric. I try to chase away the depression with another drink but it doesn't help. It just seems to make it worse. I tell myself it is silly to feel this way. I have no marriage. Just a house and some furniture that Graham and I sit in and walk about. We say hello. We watch television together. We eat silent meals. Once a week or so he screws me. Usually in the middle of the night.

He begins it by rubbing my breasts until I am awake. Then he feels my cunt. I pull off my pajama bottoms and help. him stick in his prick. It usually lasts three or four minutes. He always cums with a loud grunt, but that is the only sound he makes. Sometimes I cum too. Usually I don't. This used to make a difference to me but it doesn't anymore. When I do cum, the feeling is so mild that I barely notice it. Afterwards we sometimes talk for a few minutes, then he gets into his oven bed and quickly falls asleep. I am always restless then. Sometimes I get up and sit by the window and stare out at the dark night.

I didn't plan it to happen like it did with Eric. I just went downtown to have lunch and go shopping. We live on the outskirts of New Orleans in an eighty-five-thousand-dollar house. It has a big mortgage, but Graham has an excellent job and doesn't have any trouble with the payments. I'd planned to buy a dress for Easter in one of the Canal Street stores but never got any farther than the Rose Room, where I always stop for lunch when I'm downtown.

I notice a tall blond man eating at a table near the one I sit down at when I come in. I don't pay any attention at first when he keeps glancing my way. This often happens to me when I eat out or stop for a drink and ordinarily I just turn away. I've never given any real thought to the idea of letting a man pick me up. But now I find myself glancing back.

When our eyes finally meet I know immediately that it is going to happen. We smile at each other, laugh. His teeth show white. He comes over and sits at my table. He says his name is Eric. We have a drink while I finish my lunch.

The waitress clears the table. We talk about this and that while we sip our drinks. I don't tell him about my plans to go shopping. It stirs me to be sitting with a strange man like this, knowing what is going to happen. I like the way he holds his glass, the way he sits so relaxed in his chair. His hand looks strong.

We go for a drive in his car, then to his apartment. He makes me a drink which goes down smoothly. In minutes we are undressing each other. I taste the strange taste of his tongue. I hunger for the touch of his hand on my pussy.

I stare down at his prick. I stroke the magnificent white smoothness of it. I kiss his stomach, his thighs, press my lips to his cock. I feel his fingertips caress my cunt lightly. I kiss the head of his big prick, take it slowly into my mouth ... .

The guilt settles in deeper. I wait for the sound of Graham's car, for his footsteps at the door. My encounter with Eric seems distant now, as if it happened a long time ago, almost as if it had never happened at all. The drinks blur everything. I can't imagine how I ever let it happen with Eric. Just popping into bed with him like that. But it was good with him ... so good. I sip my drink. The. carpet feels thick under my feet.

I cross my legs and the skirt of my housecoat slips open, baring my thigh. My skin there looks smooth. I imagine a man's hand stroking it lightly Eric's hand. The thought teases me; rouses me. But I can't let it happen again ... just can't. I try to think of Graham. I remember a few times with him when it was all fun and exciting. I dwell on them, concentrate on them. I try to drive all thoughts of Eric Away.

I will make it something new with Graham. Something different. I change into a black lace nightgown, brush my hair into flowing curls. I drink my martini.

I smoke cigarettes and wait.

Graham's car pulls into the driveway at last. The garage door opens, shuts. I hear Graham's footsteps. His key turns in the door.

He comes into the room, stands in front of me. He says he had a meeting that lasted late. He laughs. "Say, looks like you're ready for a party or something ... nightgown ... martinis. What goes?"

I smile. I cross my legs and kick at his knee playfully. "Nothing ... just waiting for you ... you know."

"... that?"

"Mmm hmm." I uncross my legs and lie back on the couch provocatively.

"Isn't it kind of late? I mean it must be going on midnight." He glances at his watch. "Eleven twenty;" he says. "I have to be up at seven you know."

"I know. Come sit next to me for awhile anyway. Have a drink."

"Hey, I don't get it. You're carrying on like some sex-starved kitten."

"I am."

" ... huh?"

"Come over and unstarve me. Rub me a little at least."

He laughs patronizingly, but I keep trying. "Come on ... only for a minute," I say. "I promise to make you glad you did."

He fucks me but it is nothing. He is made of wood. I have to move his hand to my cunt. I have to pump his prick for almost a minute to get it hard. He stuffs it into me as if he is trying on a new shoe. And once he starts his thrusts he seems anxious only to get it over with. I feel the excitement drain out of me as his prick slides back and forth in my cunt. His cock has no warmth. It is like a banana, a sausage fresh out of the refrigerator. After thirty seconds of it I can't wait to have it over with either.

I wait for his grunt. I hear it. I feel his cum ooze into me. I don't have an orgasm. I was closer to cuming twenty minutes before while I was just sitting there waiting for him.

He pulls his prick out of me, gets up, takes a swallow of my drink. "That was good," he says. I'm not sure whether he means me or the drink. He yawns. "Well I guess I'll be off to bed." He looks at his watch. "Eleven twenty-eight;' he says." Not bad. I can still get in my seven hours."

I sit alone in the living room trying to get down the rest of my drink. I am suddenly sick to my stomach, feel that I'm going to vomit. I'm not sure whether this is a reaction to Graham or to the drinks. I get up and stumble off to bed. I flop down on the mattress. I am sweaty and hot all over. The room spins. ...

In the morning I wake to the sound of Graham moving about the house. I hear him in the bathroom. Then in the kitchen. Then going hurriedly out the door. I hear the sound of his car backing out of the driveway, zipping down the street.
I wash and dress quickly. I take time to pack only a few things. I write a note. It is brief.
Graham,
I'm leaving. I won't be back. You may have trouble understanding the reasons but that's one of them.
Carrie.
I take a cab to the railroad station and store my suitcase in a locker, then take another cab to an intersection a block from Eric's apartment at the edge of the French Quarter. I walk the rest of the way, slowing my steps as I draw near.



Chapter 3

I come to Eric's apartment, take the elevator up and knock on his door.

No answer.

I knock again and wait.

After a few minutes I give it up and leave. I remember the name of a bar he mentioned, The Monk's Cellar. I hail a cab and have the driver take me there. The bar is in the French Quarter, just off Bourbon Street. I go down the half-flight of stairs and enter hesitantly. It is very dark inside and it takes me awhile to adjust to the light. The bar isn't crowded. A few of the customers turn to stare at me. Their eyes look sleepy, distant. A few of the men are wearing business suits but most have on worn out colorless pants and dark shirts. There are only a few women. Almost everyone has straight longish hair. It is quiet in the bar except for the muffled sound of rock music coming from behind a velvet curtain at the back. I feel strange, out of place. I look for Eric among the sprinkling of business suits but don't see him.

I go to a booth in a corner of the room and sit down. The table is covered with a rather soiled checkerboard cloth. The dark squares are blue. In the center of the table a candle burns low in an old wine bottle. There are a lot of paintings on the walls but I can't make them out very well in the dimness.

I am hungry but order a whiskey instead of food when the waiter comes.

"With water?"

"Yes ..."

I sip the whiskey and look about, hoping to see Eric. The drink goes to my head quickly. I finish it and order another. I ask the waiter if he knows a man named Eric Nilsen.

He nods. He frowns a little. He is balding, thin.

"Has he been here today?"

"No."

"He does come in frequently though, doesn't he?"

"I haven't seen him. He hasn't been in. I'll bring your drink."

He leaves before I can ask another question. He stops at a table near the bar where a man with thick black hair and bushy sideburns and mustache sits alone. The waiter whispers something and the dark-haired man looks my way. I glance down quickly at the table. When I raise my eyes again, he is still staring at me. I am about to get up and leave when I see him coming across the room toward me.

He stands over me. His shirt has no collar, his sleeves are badly frayed. His thick neck bulges out. He smells like paint. "You were asking for Eric?" he says.

" ... you know him?"

"Yes." He pulls out a chair. "May I ... ?"

I nod. As he sits down I notice in the light of the candle that his deep set eyes are a very soft brown. Like a deer's. Liquid almost.

He lights a thin cigar with the candle. He is an exceptionally big man with heavy shoulders. His chest bulges out against his shirt. He has large hands with dark paint crusted beneath his fingernails. "Eric is out of town ... out of the state," he says. "He'll probably be gone several weeks."

"I just saw him yesterday."

"He left last night."

"... you look disappointed."

"I was hoping to see him. Maybe you can tell me where he is?"

"No."

"You don't know ... ?"

"I know. I just can't say."

"Oh ... I see." I reach for my purse as if to leave.

"No need to go, have a drink with me. I am alone too." He asks me very casually. His soft eyes intrigue me. Somehow they don't seem to go with the bigness of him.

"I've already had two," I say. "I'm not used to drinking this early in the day."

"Have coffee then. And a roll. They have French donuts here."

"That sounds good." I laugh a little. "Actually I'm starving ... I haven't had a thing yet to eat today."

He smiles and signals the waiter. In a few minutes we have a pot of coffee and two plates of donuts sitting in front of us. I eat hungrily. "My name is Armand," the man says. "I paint. But you won't see my paintings in any galleries."

"Aren't they good?"

"I think so."

"Don't you try to sell them?"

"Every afternoon at Jackson Square. To the tourists. But they don't bring much there. They are worth more, I think." He hunches forward and his hair creeps down over the back of his shirt. His brown eyes look almost sad in the light. His cheekbones are heavy but I like them. I notice that he eats a donut in just two bites but he isn't sloppy about it. I like sitting here with him.

We talk. The expression on his face doesn't change when I tell him I've just left my husband and had planned to stay with Eric. He smokes his cigar. He stares at me. There is a warmth about him that seems to flow across the table and take hold of me. We finish the donuts.

"Shall we go to my place?" he asks. "I'll make more coffee and we can sleep then. You look tired. I have some good wine that we can drink later."

"All right," I say smiling. I am not at all surprised at his asking me like that. It seems the natural thing to just get up and go with him. I put out my cigarette and we leave.

When we get outside, Armand takes my arm. The street is quiet. He walks with a slight limp and it takes me awhile to get used to it. We cross the street. He flips a dime to. a shoe shine boy. Another boy comes out from between two buildings and they fight for it. Armand laughs and tosses out another dime. They each get one. He walks along the street as if he owns it. As if he owns the whole city. It sort of overwhelms me, just walking next to him.

He whistles some. He lights another of the thin cigars. I like the smell of them. He seems to be walking slowly but I have trouble keeping up with him.

We come to an old building on a corner. He points up at a window and says that's where he lives. We climb three flights of stairs and go into his room. It is almost as dark inside as it was in the bar. I am out of breath from climbing and sink into an. overstuffed chair. Armand raises the window shades to let in some light. The room is sparsely furnished. The air seems very dry. It is a very large room with a stove and refrigerator and sink along one wall. There is a rug but it is threadbare. I see no real bed at all. Just a large mattress on the floor in a corner. But a blanket is pulled up neatly over it. The chair I'm sitting in is uncomfortable because of a spring bulging up.

Armand laughs as I squirm about in the chair. "Come sit with me at the table," he says. "I'll heat some coffee."

We sit there, drinking coffee and looking down at the street. The traffic is light. The cars look very small. I think I hear the shoe shine boys arguing but it is just someone calling a dog. The day has clouded up and after a few minutes it starts to rain. The rain splatters the windows and washes the street. I enjoy it being here with Armand, watching and listening to the rain. I like the size of him, the quiet way he has about him, the thickness of his hands and fingers.

He makes no move to touch me. He just keeps refilling our coffee cups and we sit there looking out the window. Everything now seems strangely bound up in the rain. I hear it plinking on the metal garbage cans far below. I hear it on the window. I watch it slanting down. I smell its freshness.

"Shall we go to bed now?" Armand asks.

"Yes ..."

"Or would you rather have more coffee?"

"No ... just to bed."

He nods. He finishes his coffee in one long swallow. He puffs in deep on his cigar, then lays it in the ash tray and goes across the room to the bathroom. I light a cigarette and stare out the window. I feel that I have traveled a thousand miles from Graham. I feel distant even from myself. It doesn't matter that I didn't find Eric.

Armand comes out of the bathroom, leaves the door open. He gestures toward it. "... if you want to before we lie down," he says.

"Yes, I think so ..." I say. Our arms brush as we pass each other crossing the room. His touch sends shivers shooting through me. I go into the bathroom and pull the door shut. It is an old bathroom but very clean. I let the seat down, then lift my skirt and pull my panties down over my thighs. The seat feels hard and cold.

I smoke my cigarette while I sit there and stare at a pair of heavy men's shoes in the corner. I pull off a few sheets of the paper and pat myself dry. The paper is coarser than what I'm used to at home. I think about Armand, the size of him, how pleasant it is to be with him. I stand up and pull up my panties, snapping the waistband against my stomach. I pull the handle, making the water gurgle away, then wash my hands with a funny looking bar of greyish soap. I look at myself in the mirror and brush back my hair.

When I come back into the other room, the blanket on the mattress has been pulled down. The sheets look fresh and clean. Armand is standing next to the window. "I'm going to get undressed," he says. "I don't like to wear anything in bed. You can leave some of your things on if you want to."

"No, I'll get undressed too. I like the feel of sheets ..."

"Would you like part of a joint first?"

"... huh?"

"A joint ... grass."

"Marijuana? I don't know. I never ..."

"No ...? Not with Eric even? I don't use it much either but I like to when I go to bed like this."

"It's necessary for you ...?"

He laughs. "No, not necessary. I just like it. It makes everything last longer ... makes it better. But we don't have to. I won't either if you don't want to."

"I'll try it," I say. I move toward him, stand right in front of him. Still he doesn't touch me. Instead he goes to the cupboard and reaches back on the shelf and gets out a coarse looking cigarette. He lights it, puffs once, then hands it to me. I bring it to my lips, draw in on it hesitantly. I taste the smoke. It is slightly sour. At first. I feel nothing. I hand the cigarette back to him.

We pass the joint back and forth, puffing lightly. I begin to feel as if I am floating. I feel very high. Armand seems very close to me, almost as if he is a part of me. But at the same time he seems far off, remote. He takes the joint from me, sets it in the ash tray. "That's enough," he says.

The sound of the rain starts to pick up. I hear it beating rhythmically against the metal cans on the street. It sounds like an orchestra starting up. The music grows louder, sounds almost hauntingly beautiful. Armand begins unbuttoning his shirt.

I take off my blouse, then pull down the zipper at the side of my skirt. I hang my things over a chair. Armand is unbuckling his belt. I stand in front of him in just my bra and panties. I am still drifting, floating from the grass. Armand's shorts look very white against his skin. I unhook my bra and peel it off. My breasts stand free. I tug down on my panties, kick them off over my ankles. My pussy lips feel wet and creamy.

Armand's cock juts out thick and hard when he takes off his shorts. My nipples spike as we stand naked facing each other. He steps toward me and I feel the tip of his penis press against my skin. He kisses me. I probe his mouth with my tongue. I hunger to have his prick inside me.

I get down on the mattress and stretch out on my back and open my thighs to him. I look up at his big prick looming above me.. "Come on," I say. "... come down here with me."

In a moment we are lying next to each other. I stroke his cock. I can't stand the waiting to have him push it into me. But he seems in no hurry; he just fondles me. I roll over on my side and pull the tip of his prick between my cunt lips and rub it against my clitoris. "... why don't you put it all the way in me now ... screw me ... fuck me ..."

I cum before he even gets his cock into me. He pushes all the way in, then, begins fucking me. The rubbing of his strange new skin against mine feels delightful. My cunt walls grip him. I thrust myself up against him. He moves in and out of me slowly, deliciously. I feel his hands on my breasts. I sink my tongue deep into his mouth. I press my swollen nipples up hard against his fingertips. The hot feeling in my pussy builds. ,I can feel his prick all through me. He kisses my breasts; his tongue is wet against my nipples. I cum. The feeling is exquisite.

But it is not over. We only rest for a moment, waiting to begin the climb again. We lie there fondling each other. He sucks my nipples. Slowly. Tantalizingly. I love him to do that. His mouth feels so cool on me ... don't bite, easy ... poke at me there with your tongue.

Shall I hold your prick again? I like to touch it. It's so big. I don't think I've ever felt a cock so thick before. It's so nice and smooth here at the end. I like to rub my hand all along the length of it. Down here too by your stomach. If my hand was any smaller I wouldn't even be able to get all the way around it. Shall I hold your balls? They're nice ... like enormous eggs but so soft. I won't squeeze them too hard. I know that hurts. I'll just press in on them a little. Don't stop sucking my nipple. That feels so nice. It's good to be with you. Do you like it being with me? Can you hear me or am I just talking to myself, just thinking all this?

Let's eat each other now. I'd love to eat you. Suck you. I'd love to have you eat me too, to feel your tongue inside me. Or shall we save all that and just keep feeling and kissing each other until we're ready to fuck again? Your hands ... I love a man's hands. Why don't you rub my pussy with them though? Are you just teasing me ... or saving my pussy for your cock? Don't save it. Feel it. I want it to be all juicy and smooth for you when we fuck again. I want your fingers to be in my cunt. Here I'll show you. Put your hand here ... there, yes ... your finger here in the middle ... rub me there ... harder ... mmm that's nice.

I'll keep rubbing you too. Your cock feels so warm. Shall I pump it? Not too hard, I don't want to make you cum. I'll rub your balls again instead. I love to feel them. But I want to be fucked now ... let's ... all right? I want to feel your cock push into me again. I want to feel my cunt lips spread to take you. I want to feel the bare skin of your prick rubbing against me. Let me move a little ... like this ... there, now it's right ... push in ... fuck me now. Keep moving go all the way in. Kiss my breasts ... there, yes. Can you rub me down here again while you go in and out of me. Oh are you going to finish already ... yes yes all right ... I can feel you shooting into me. So warm. I'm curving too. Don't stop. Keep fucking me ... keep cuming in me ... .



Chapter 4

We lie there for a long time, our naked bodies sweaty against each other. I play with his prick. He rests with his head on my breasts, his lips brushing one of my nipples. I am conscious of nothing now but the good feeling of his body next to mine. The glow stays with me, warms me. I listen to the steady sound of the rain.

I feel suddenly chilly and pull the blanket up and press closer to Armand. I say something to him about how cold I'm getting but he doesn't answer and I see that he's asleep. His face looks strong. Just looking at him makes me feel warmer and I feel that I could lie here on this mattress with him always. '

I hear a clap of thunder and glance up. Across the street I see another couple sitting next to a window looking out at the rain. It startles me at first to think that they might have watched us. I get a funny feeling in my stomach when I think about it. I wonder how well they could see everything in the rain ... .

I remember the first time I watched someone like that. The only time really. I was in high school then. My breasts were still quite small but swelling larger each month. I had never even kissed a boy. Except once at a party. Nothing else ...

We are at a cottage, my family and most of my other relatives. Everyone is there to celebrate my uncle and aunt's silver wedding anniversary. The adults keep drinking all day from a big barrel of beer. There is a lot to eat. My cousins and I play a lot of games and are allowed to stay up late. Most everybody stays overnight so that the cottage is crowded for sleeping.

They put me in a small bedroom with some of my cousins. Three of the other girls share a big double bed and I have to sleep alone on a cot flush up against the wall. Another of my cousins - Bob -- sleeps on a cot across the room. I don't really know him very well because we live in different cities. There is a lot of giggling and joking at first after the lights go out but everyone is tired from the long day and soon the room is quiet. I can hear only the breathing of the girls asleep in the bed next to me.

A light suddenly shines bright in my eyes. It comes from a small opening in the plasterboard wall next to my cot. I can see into another bedroom clearly. The bed in the other room is about a dozen feet. away from me.

At first I don't think anything of it. I see my older cousin, Thelma, moving about the room. I'd been to her wedding a few months before. The light goes out for a minute, then comes on again. This time I see both Thel and her husband Fred in the room. He shuts the door. They sit down next to each other on the bed.

Fred kicks off his shoes. Thel is smoking a cigarette. They each hold a drink in their hands. Thel suddenly presses her body up against her husband and kisses him. My heart begins to pound. I shrink back into the darkness, afraid that they might. see me through the hole in the wall. Then I see Fred's hand reach out and cup one of Thel's breasts lightly. I lean closer to the opening in the wall again. My nipples tighten, tingle, begin to itch. My cunt starts to get wet.

I watch as Thel's husband unbuttons her blouse. I see his hand slip inside her bra. I almost explode with the feverish sensation that races all through me. Thel's. bra is silky white. Flimsy. I can see the shape of her nipples poking out against it. Fred's hand looks dark against her skin. My belly aches terribly as I watch him take off her bra and begin to stroke her naked breasts. I watch them kissing each other. I can see their wet tongues sliding in and out of each other's mouths. My own mouth gets so dry that I can hardly swallow.

They lie back on the bed. Fred unzips Thel's slacks. She stands up and helps him take them off. She is wearing light blue panties. I can see the darkness of the hair around her pussy puffing out against them. Her thighs look very white and smooth. Fred presses his hand to the crotch of her panties and rubs her pussy through the silky material. My own pussy aches. I can feel the wetness running freely between my thighs.

Thel gets back down on the bed again and unzips her husband's pants. I hold my breath as I watch her hand reach in for him. Suddenly I begin to feel very guilty about it all and try to turn away, try to shut my eyes. But I can't help looking at them. Thel's hand is deep inside Fred's trousers now. I can see her arm moving back and forth. I can hear them whispering. Then they both stand up and take off Fred's pants and shorts. I see his penis sticking out very long and rigid.

I have never seen a man naked like this before and I am startled at the size of him there. For a moment I can't breathe. I hold back a cough. I watch Thel pull down her panties and step out of them. They move toward each other and I see the end of Fred's penis pressing against Thel's stomach just above her pussy. I hear them laugh quietly about something. Then Thel stands on her tiptoes, grasps Fred's penis and guides it to her opening. They push hard against each other. Fred's penis disappears for a moment inside of her, then slides out again. It looks sticky and wet and very hard.

I start to itch terribly between my legs and I reach up under my nightgown to scratch it. I find I am all creamy and velvety there. I rub myself. The rubbing feels good and I keep it up even after the itch is gone.

I keep watching the others. I feel hot all over as they start moving against each other faster. Finally their bodies separate and Fred steps back away from Thel. He sits on the edge of the bed, then lies back. I can see his big penis sticking up. Thel gets on the bed too and kneels over him, one leg on each side of his body. She kneels up straight at first, her back toward me. Her buttocks look very round and smooth and white. Fred's penis pokes up toward her. She pushes all the way down on him, taking him inside her. She moves up and down. She rides him. His penis looks big and wet, sliding in and out. The lips of Thel's pussy cling to it, stretch to take in all of it.

I keep rubbing myself as I watch them. The cream from my pussy runs thick over my thighs. My fingers are sticky. I make the bursting feeling happen again and again.

Suddenly I am aware of movement on the cot behind me. Bob. I see him out of the corner of my eye. He is sitting up, watching the others too. At first I am flustered but this lasts only a minute as it starts to excite me that a boy in the same room where I am is watching the others too.

I glance at him again. I see a slight smile on his face and I smile back. I can tell though that he can't see the others very clearly from where he is sitting. I'm not sure whether I invite him over by the look in my eyes but in a moment he is sitting next to me on my cot.

Together we watch the others. Our heads are only inches apart but our bodies don't touch. I keep stroking myself beneath my nightgown. Thel and her husband have changed positions on the bed now and he is pushing into her from on top. I can't see him moving in and out of her so clearly this way but it is even more thrilling now with Bob sitting here next to me. My pussy explodes again under the touch of my fingers. I rub myself very slowly now so that Bob won't notice and I keep the lower half of my body covered with the blanket.

Bob slides over closer to me, puts his arm around my back. Then he drapes his hand lightly over my shoulder and in a moment I feel his hand cupping one of my breasts through my nightgown. I am too startled to move. Bob's fingertips caress me. My nipples tighten, hurt. It feels wonderful. But when he tries to slide his hand under the top of my nightgown I draw back. I let him keep rubbing my breasts on the outside of the gown.

We watch the others. I notice that Bob's other hand is inside the crotch of his pajamas now. I can't see his penis but I can tell that he is rubbing it. I stroke my pussy harder. I see Thel and her husband rocking rhythmically on the bed. I see the tip of Bob's penis protruding from his pajamas as he pumps it. His face looks excited as he watches the others. He squeezes my breast harder. I hear Thel moan as her husband seems to be pushing in deeper. I stare at the rigid length of Bob's penis gleaming even in the dimness as he rubs it. I know that he can see me playing with my pussy now too. But I don't care. I just keep doing it. Suddenly I feel something warm and wet against my outer thigh. I look down and see that Bob's penis is shooting its warm wet stuff onto my leg. An almost unbearably good feeling grips me as I explode again.

Through the opening in the wall I can see the final frantic lunges as Thel and her husband finish too. Bob slides his hand down inside the top of my gown again. This time I don't stop him and his hand moves against my bare breasts. I hug his hand to me. We kiss. I cum again. I am completely out of control. Then there is a sudden stirring on the big double bed where my three cousins are asleep. I am sure one of them is awake. I push Bob's hand away and he must hear the others too because in a flash he is across the room and back in his own cot. I yank down my gown and bury my face in the pillow. I lie very still. But there is no more noise from the other bed. I keep looking at Thel and Fred still wrapped in a naked embrace. But Fred's penis is out of her now and looks very small. I watch him get up and walk across the room and snap out the light. Everything turns black. I lie there waiting to see if the light will come on again. I wait to see if Bob will come back to my bed. But nothing more happens. The cottage is very still. It takes me a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning I don't speak to Bob or look at him directly. I feel my face flush when The] comes over with her husband to say good-bye just before they leave. A strange emptiness comes over me as I watch their car back out of the driveway and move slowly down the narrow dirt road toward the highway. Later I doze fitfully in the back seat of our car as we make the long trip home. I open my eyes and see the heads of my parents looking straight ahead. I close my eyes again. It all happens over and over in my imagination as we cruise along the highway. Every night in bed for weeks afterwards I imagine Bob being there with me, with Thel and her husband in a room just across the way.

It is still raining when we get up. The sky is grey. I dress slowly. Armand makes a fresh pot of coffee. The delicious warmth from our lovemaking still flows through us. I am tired though. I feel that I could lie down again and sleep the rest of the day.

Armand shows me some of his paintings. They are mostly scenes of the French Quarter. Quaint old buildings with their balconies. Narrow streets. Horse drawn carts. But the faces of the people dominate them. Most people have eyes like Armand's, deep-set, brown, somehow sad. But I don't say anything to him about that. I admire the paintings, commenting on the ones I especially like. This pleases him. I don't know much at all about art but his work does seem to have a quality about it. He says he'd intended to take some of the paintings to Jackson Square to sell this afternoon but that the weather has changed all that. I feel glad he's not going away.

It strikes me strange that he has none of his paintings hanging in his room. I ask him about it.

"After I finish one, I know every line," he says. "There is no need for me to hang it up." He stacks the paintings back against the wall and gets more coffee, then lights another thin cigar.

When the rain lets up we go for a short walk. The streets smell fresh and clean. Some children are wading and splashing in a puddle around a plugged up storm sewer. We stop to watch them for a minute and Armand laughs heartily at two small boys fighting fiercely in the water. We go back to the room and Armand makes supper. A chili dish and a salad. I help him set the table but don't interfere with his making the meal. We drink wine with the chili. Armand gulps it down like water. After we finish eating, he plays some records on an old phonograph. All of them are Beethoven. He never listens to anything else he says.

We drink more wine. It makes me sleepy and I suggest going to bed. Armand agrees and after one more glass of wine we undress and get under the blankets. It isn't quite as exciting when he screws me this time but it feels good to have his big prick inside me and to cum with him again. Afterwards we turn on our sides and I snuggle up to him, my breasts pressed against his back, my knees fitted into the hollows of his drawn up legs.



Chapter 5

We rise early the next morning and eat a slow breakfast. I have a small headache but it doesn't matter. Armand says that he has to go away for awhile but that he'll be back about noon. He leaves without kissing me but I know that there is feeling between us. Already it seems as if I have been living with him for days, weeks, months.

I take a bath, do the dishes and wait for him. The sun is warm coming through the window and after tidying the room I sit in a chair letting the light soak into my skin.
Armand brings some beer back with him when he returns. It is hot in the room but the beer is refreshing. We talk for awhile, telling each other something about ourselves. He asks about my husband, whether we had trouble in bed.

I smile. "Not trouble really ... but it didn't really mean much to him. It all never lasted more than a few minutes with us. I always felt stranded ... you know, wanting it to be something more."

He shakes his head. "That's not good," he says. He looks up. "Have you been with many men?"

"Not as many as you think probably." I laugh. "Jumping into bed like I did with you is something new to me. It really started only with Eric. And that was just one time. Oh there were a few men before I was married boys really but I've been an honest wife until just a few days ago. You don't believe that? No matter. But I did daydream a lot I guess ... thinking about how it would be with someone besides Graham -- that's my husband -- always trying to reach out to find something ... that's what I'm doing now I guess."

"And now that you have, are you sorry?"

"No.

"You want to now?"

"Mmm hmm." I laugh again. "In fact I've been thinking about it all morning. I even took a bath so I'd be nice and fresh. It's good with you. Let's work up to it nice and slow again like we did the first time yesterday. I liked it like that."

He smiles. "We have the whole day," he says.

We undress each other. It excites me when he undoes my bra. His hands rest cool for a moment against my breasts, making my nipples stiffen. He pulls my panties down over my hips. I undress him and draw out his warm cock. I press the tip against my stomach, feel a trace of wetness trail against my skin.

We sit cross-legged, facing each other on the mattress. We are both naked now. Armand fondles my breasts. He presses my nipples in gently with his fingers. He moves his hands to my knees, then slides them very slowly up along the insides of my thighs. When the tips of his fingers are but an inch from my pussy, he stops.

"Come on, don't tease," I say laughing. "... not that slowly. Touch me there ... feel me." I reach out for his prick. I pump it, make it big. I rub my thumb over the moist, sticky tip.

Armand presses his hand to my cunt, slips a finger between my swollen cunt lips. He kisses my neck, my breasts. He kisses me all the way down the length of my body. My ribs. My stomach. I lie back. He buries his face in my pussy. He eats me. I cum with a shudder as his tongue dips in deep. He draws my clitoris into his mouth. Sucks it. When I cum again he stops eating me and rests his head against my thighs. He runs his finger lightly over the outer folds of my pussy.

My eyes slip open and focus on the heavy thickness of his prick. I want to eat him too. I swing around on the mattress and press my lips to his cock. I stroke it, kiss the tip. The size of it makes my hand seem small. I hear a sudden sound at the door and sit up abruptly. I turn and see a young man and a girl walking across the room toward us. I am startled and embarrassed to be seen naked like this. But Armand just glances up casually at the others and says hello. He keeps rubbing my thighs and cunt.

The young man and girl stand above us. They chat for a minute with Armand. The man is quite tall and slender with longish blond hair that creeps over his shoulders. The girl has a good figure. She is wearing white lipstick. She has attractive features but there is a rather coarse look about her face. I avoid looking directly into their eyes but it excites me strangely to have them standing there while Armand caresses me.

"... want us to leave and come back later?" the young man asks.

"No ... you're here now ... stay," Armand says. "You don't mind do you, Carrie?"

I shake my head without looking up.

"These are friends of mine," Armand .says. "Hal and Lorraine ... Hal stays here with me off and on. He's been in Texas the last few months."

I manage to look up and smile. "Hi ..." I say feeling awkward. They smile back and say hello. The two of them don't seem to pay much attention to my nakedness and my initial embarrassment begins to disappear.

"Sit down with us ..." says Armand. "... there's room. Can I get you some coffee."

"Don't bother." Hal says. "We've just finished eating. Maybe we'll have a cup later."

They sit down. Armand and I move over on the mattress to make room for them. He doesn't stop petting my pussy. I suddenly realize that I am holding his cock again. I begin to stroke it lightly, feel it swell in my hand. I see Hal glance at Armand's hand on my cunt. Lorraine looks our way too. My forehead gets hot as I thrill to the sensation of the two of them looking at us. All the time Armand caresses me he talks with Hal. They use the names of people and places I've never heard of. I hear one of them mention Eric but they don't say anything about him that I understand.

After a few minutes Lorraine snuggles up to Hal and starts kissing him. They stop that and quickly take off their clothes. Hal's body looks lean and hard. His ribs are prominent. His skin is exceptionally tan. Even his prick is sort of a golden brown. It is slender but looks very long even though it is only half-erect. I watch it stretch out as Lorraine plays with it. At full-length his cockhead has a very smooth, perfectly rounded look. I feel a sudden twinge in my cunt as I watch Lorraine begin to rub it against her thigh.

Hal lies back and Lorraine climbs over him, her slim white buttocks pointing toward me. She settles down on him, spears her cunt with his prick. Armand and I watch them screw. Hal's prick looks slick and wet as Lorraine rides up and down on it.

Armand keeps rubbing my cunt. I pump his cock. It is big and thick now, the firm head swollen and slightly purplish. I want to eat him now, as I was starting to before the others entered. I just keep rubbing him while I watch Lorraine and Hal fuck. Hal's tan skin begins to glisten in the sunlight as the beads of sweat gather on his body. He bucks up harder against Lorraine. His cock shines wet. They pump faster. Then their bodies start to shudder as Hal spurts into her. I feel myself cuming too.

I pull Armand's hand tighter against my pussy. I see the rivulets of Hal's cum trickling down Lorraine's thighs. She flops forward over him, his softening prick still inside her. I feel Armand's prick throbbing in my hand. It is hard .like iron. I want him to fuck me now. I want to feel him pushing deep into my cunt. I know that the others will be watching just as we watched them. But I don't mind that at all. The thought of it excites me. Hal and Lorraine are resting on their backs now. Hays prick looks beautiful lying soft and sticky against his thigh.

Armand turns to face me. My knees are drawn back and up. My ankles dig into the mattress next to my buttocks. Sitting like this spreads my pussy lips wide and I can feel the wetness trickling out. I pull Armand's prick to me, rub it against my thigh just a few inches from my cunt. His balls hang big and heavy against the mattress.

I run my fingertips along the underside of his cock. I stroke him. His prick swells until the taut skin at the tip looks as if it is about to split. Hal and Lorraine are sitting up now, sharing a joint and watching us. Hal leans over and hands me the joint. I thank him and puff it twice, then hand it back to him. The taste is strong. I am bursting with passion. I feel that I could fondle Armand's cock forever.

I pump it harder now, milk the clear drops out the tiny hole at the tip. I want to lick up the wetness. I get up to my knees and lean forward and take the head of his prick into my mouth and start to blow Armand.

After a minute I sit back on my haunches and get the joint again from Hal. I puff it once, then bend forward and start eating Armand's cock again. I feel as if I am drifting. Armand's prick feels enormous in my mouth. My mouth feels enormous. I pull his hand to my cunt. I want him to eat me now. to fuck me. "Why don't you screw me now?" I say. "... or eat me?"

"Which?"

"Eat me first ... just for a minute."

I lie back. I wait for the touch of his tongue. I close my eyes. I cum almost as soon as his mouth touches me. I can feel his mustache scratching me. I open my eyes again. Everything in my pussy is hot and wet. I can see the others smoking and looking down at us. I pull Armand's face tighter against my cunt. I can feel his nose, his lips, his teeth against me there. But I can't get enough of him this way now. I need his cock inside me. I push back on his shoulders. "Fuck me now ... screw me ..."

He gets to his knees and pushes into me. He fucks me hard.

I strain up against the thrusts of his prick, reach for his balls, try to get them up between my buttocks. I am conscious of the others watching us but I don't look up at them. I cum again.

He pushes deeper into me now, and I know that it is almost over. I feel myself begin to peak again. I hold back, waiting for him. Then I feel his prick erupt inside me and his lips crush down on mine.

His scum shoots into me. I feel the spasms deep in my cunt. I lock my legs around his back and hold him deep inside me.

The four of us sit naked on the mattress, sharing another joint. I don't take much of it. I am too full of everything already. The men's cocks look good to me lying limp between their thighs. Armand puts his big arm around me. I lean against his chest and shut my eyes. I feel very warm and comfortable. My cunt feels as if his prick is still inside it.



Chapter 6

We stay together in Armand's room for the next weeks, Armand and Hal and myself. Lorraine goes back to her own apartment the following morning. I go with Armand to get my suitcase from the railroad station and hang my dresses in the closet and take a drawer of the dresser for my other things. Armand and Hal talk one night about the months Hal spent in Texas. Apparently he and some other men were trying to smuggle in grass from Mexico. I gather that Eric is in on it too. But I don't have any interest in Eric now and don't pay much attention to. what they say. We drink a lot of wine. I enjoy it being with the two men. Armand works almost every evening on his paintings. Sometimes we play cards.

The three of us sleep together each night on the mattress. It is crowded, but I like sleeping between the two of them. Armand always sleeps naked. I wear a nightgown. Hal goes to bed in his shorts. Though we share the same bed Hal makes no move to touch me. He treats me as if I am strictly Armand's girl. As the days pass, Armand makes love to me less frequently than at first. He is usually too tired from drinking wine. But when he does screw me it is good. He is big and warm and comfortable. His cock fills me. I love to feel it rubbing hard inside my cunt. Sometimes I wonder whether Hal is really asleep while Armand and I are making it. I begin to think more and more about him lying there just inches from us.

One morning I get up early and start making breakfast. I am wearing a thin white shortie nightgown. The men are still sleeping. I keep glancing over at them. Hal stirs occasionally but his eyes are shut. The bacon smells good frying.

Hal gets up, comes across the room and says good morning to me.

I smile. "Hi. Breakfast won't be ready for awhile. I'm just cooking the bacon."

"No hurry," he says. "I'm not hungry yet anyway. I think I'll take a shower."

I turn the bacon while I listen to the sound of. the shower running. Armand sleeps on. I light a cigarette and puff it between sips of coffee.

The sound of the shower stops. After a minute Hal comes back into the room. He is naked except for a towel draped over his shoulder. This surprises me. I haven't seen him undressed since that first day with Lorraine. But he is casual about it. I glance at his cock. It is limp and tan. "Want some coffee?" I ask.

"Sure ..." he says. He steps forward. I pour a cup and hand it to him. We, are standing just a foot or so apart.

He thanks me and sits down in the chair next to the window. He hunches forward and drinks the coffee and looks down at the street. "Come over and sit with me for a minute," he says. "No one will be wanting breakfast soon."

I bring my coffee and sit in the chair next to his. He leans back then and puts his feet up on the window sill. His legs are tightly muscled and covered with fine blond hairs. His prick looks soft and golden against his thigh.

"Was the water hot?" I ask.

"At first. But it ran out and I had to finish cold."

"The tank must be too small," I say. "That always used to happen to me too. Now I always soap myself first, then just get in and rinse off." I notice his cock suddenly rise and stiffen. "Well, what caused that?" I laugh.

He takes his feet off the window sill and leans forward again. "I don't know ..." he says smiling. "I guess I was just thinking about how good you'd look in the shower."

"Really? You usually act as if you think I'm your sister or something." I laugh again. "Why are you bending forward like that? Bashful?"


"No ... just looking down at the street. ... you like it better when I sit back?"

"Mmm hmm ..."

"... like this?"

"Yes, but you're not so big there now. You're shrinking."

"I can't control that. Hey, you must like looking at my cock."

"Uh huh ... that's normal, isn't it?"

"Sure ... it's just that I always thought you were hung up on Armand."

"I am I guess. But you're a man too. That's enough, isn't it? Besides, you're rather nice to look at there, you know. Your skin is such a soft tan ..."

His prick starts to rise again.

"See what you're doing now," he laughs.

"Just by talking to you? I should keep talking then, shouldn't I? It makes me shiver looking at you like this ... makes me want to touch you."

"Why don't you?"

"Not right now."

"Why?"

"You know ..." I nod at Armand.

"He's asleep. Besides, he wouldn't mind. He doesn't think he owns you."

"I know. And he doesn't. But I couldn't be dishonest about it ... you know ... do something with you when he doesn't know ... while he's asleep like that."

"Just touching me? That couldn't hurt anything. You're not going to just let me sit here, are you?"

"Don't blame me. I'm not the one who came walking in naked."

I look at him. I see his prick jutting up only a few inches from my hand. I admire the perfect shape of his cockhead. It is long but even more slender than I remember. The shaft is tan but the tip turns almost red as it stretches taut. A dark vein courses irregularly along the side of it.

I reach out and touch it with my fingertips.

I slide my hand up the length of it, then back down. Then up again.

I start to pump him. He grows even more rigid in my hand.

I am tingling all over. I suddenly want him to screw me. I want to feel his prick slide into my cunt ... my mouth.

I bend forward to kiss the tip of it but stop as I hear Armand getting up. I let go of Hal's prick, sit back straight in my chair. Hal takes a drink of his coffee.

Armand comes over and stands next to us. He is naked too. He doesn't say anything at first. He takes my coffee from me, sips it, hands the cup back. He puts his big hand lightly on my shoulder, looks down at me. "If you want to go to bed with him, go ahead." There is no edge in his voice, just the direct statement.

I kiss Armand, draw his hand down under the top of my nightgown to my breasts. My nipples tighten against his fingertips. I rub his thigh, move my hand up to his balls and cup their fullness. I stroke his prick, feel it thicken. With my other hand I reach out for Hal. I pump his cock and Armand's at the same time. "I like you both," I say.

In a minute the three of us are on the mattress. I lie between them on my back. I rub their pricks. They both get very stiff. Hal strokes my breasts while Armand slides his hand up my thighs to my cunt. His fingers gently separate my pussy lips, slip in smoothly against the wet soft skin. I pump their cocks faster. Hal tries to pull down my gown so that he can kiss my breasts. I am afraid it will tear.

"Wait a minute ..." I say.

I let go of both men and stand up. Hal stands behind me and helps me pull the nightgown over my head. I feel his rigid prick jut in against my buttocks. I can see our reflections in the dresser mirror. My nipples point out pink and hard.

Armand is sitting up now, caressing my thighs. I bend my knees, then kneel down all the way so that he can reach my pussy. His fingers press in against the wetness of my cunt.

I kiss him. I rub his hard cock. Hal's prick jams harder between the cheeks of my ass. He is kneeling behind me now. He rubs my buttocks, spreads them apart with his hands. My skin is very tender where the tip of his prick pushes against me. I am going crazy with excitement. I've never been with two men at the same time like this.

They are not competitive about it. Each seems satisfied with just a part of me. Hal rubs my breasts. My ass gyrates wildly under the pressure of his cock. Only gradually do I realize that he is trying to fuck me there. I've never been screwed in the ass before and I'm not sure I want to be now but the thought of it thrills me. I bend forward farther to try to help him. I feel his prick inch in.

It hurts. The hurt increases as his pushing keeps stretching my skin, then suddenly I feel myself open up to him and he slips smoothly, easily all the way in. My skin contracts, grips his prick tighter. For a moment the pain is intense.

We lie on our sides. Hal pushes his cock slowly in and out of my ass. The burning hurt of it feels almost unbearably good. I pull Armand's prick up tight against my pussy lips. I want him to screw me too. I tell him. He slides down some on the mattress, then I feel the big cock sliding into my cunt.

I fuck them both. It keeps hurting me. After a few minutes, I feel I can't take any more of it. But I love it. I can't get enough of it. I feel faint, feel that I will surely pass out. My ass is on fire. My cunt. I am burning up in a searing consuming flame. My tongue is parched. I can't swallow. I thirst. I pant for air as they keep ramming their pricks into me. Armand kisses me and the liquid of his tongue for a moment eases my thirst. I suck it eagerly. I clutch his shoulders. My fingernails claw ,him deep. His thrusts become suddenly more urgent. Hal's cock drives harder into me from behind. Their two cocks fill me, stretch me. The flame inside me flares. I explode. I keep cuming as Armand's cock spurts its warm scum into me. I feel Hal curving now too. His last violent lunges hurt terribly. His prick feels as if it is sticking all the way up into my belly. I hear him groan. His cum spills into me, floods me. I burst again. I hear both men breathing heavily, feel their pricks shrink slowly out of me. My thighs and the skin around my ass are sticky with their cum.



Chapter 7

The pace of my heartbeat slows. I roll onto my back. Armand and Hal lie next to me, their bodies sweaty. I feel relaxed but very tired, exhausted, as if I haven't slept for days. I feel that I could sleep forever ... .

Armand wakes up and gets ready to go to the Square to sell his paintings.

"It should be a good day for it," I say.

"Yes, it's sunny. The tourists should come flocking."

"I hope you have good luck. Do you ever take along that one of the old woman sitting on the porch steps?"

"No. You mean the one with the vases?"

"Yes, all lined up in a row. I like that one ... the way the woman looks ... her face. I think you could sell it."

"For how much?"

"I don't know. I can't even guess. Sixty maybe."

He laughs. "You don't know the tourists. They don't want to spend money like that."

"Fifty then, try it. Someone will like it."

"They might like it but they won't buy it. I'll take it though anyway. What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You looked strange for a minute. I thought maybe you didn't feel well."

"No, I'm all right. I guess I was just thinking. I had an unusual dream ... different. Do you have a cigarette?"

"Yes ... right here."

He hands me a crumpled pack and I get out a cigarette and light it. "I hope you didn't mind it about Hal ..."

"Why should I? You did what you wanted to, didn't you?"

"I guess so. I never thought anything quite like that would happen though ... both of you at once. Just so you're not angry or anything."

"I'm not angry," he says. His eyes look very blown, liquid. "Really though, I must go."

"I know. But you should eat first. I made some bacon earlier. I could heat it."

"All right."

"How about some eggs with it?"

He nods.

"Two?"

"Yes ..:"

He eats breakfast quickly, gathers up his paintings and leaves. He doesn't kiss me good-bye but he clasps my hand tight when I place it on his shoulder. "I'll try to sell the Old Woman," he says. "If I do, I'll bring back some good wine."

Out the window I watch him walk slowly with his slight limp down the street toward the Square. A small boy comes out of a building, tags along with him. Together they turn the corner.

When Hal gets up I cook him eggs and bacon too. I have my housecoat on and he reaches for me playfully every time I go by the table. He is still naked. He gets his hand under the housecoat against the bare skin of my thighs.

I laugh. "Hey, haven't you had enough? You can't want it again so soon."

He moves his hand farther up my thigh, slips a finger between the dry lips of my cunt. I didn't really screw you before, you know."

"You didn't? It felt like it to me. I can still feel it" I laugh. "I probably will for a week.

He rubs my pussy. "... here, I mean. In your cunt. The other was good but I want to fuck you here too."

"... now?"

"Don't you want to?"

"Mmm hmm ... sure. I'm kind of worn out though. I'd like to take a bath first. Kind of freshen up."

"I'll bring my coffee and keep you company."

I run the water hot until the tub .is full. Hal helps me off with the housecoat and I step in. I lean against the back of the tub and try to relax. But I can't with him sitting there staring at me. I watch his prick rise slowly until it stands straight out. "You look as if you haven't had a woman in a month," I say laughing.

"It turns me on to look at you sitting there," he says. He kneels down nest to the tub. Want me to wash your breasts?" he asks.

"Mmm hmm ... I'd love it." I hand him the soap.

He works up a lather in his hands, then begins soaping my breasts. He rubs too hard, hurts me.

"Hey ... easier! I'm tender there ... gently, do it gently."

"Sorry. This better? Like this?"

"Mmmm yes ... I like your hands. When you do it like that they slide so nice."

"I'll wash your pussy now, all right?"

"Yes."

"You'll have to spread your legs a little."

I nod. I feel his finger slip through the wet mat of hair to my cunt lips. He strokes me slowly. "Does that feel as good as the other?"

"Yes ... mmmm ... you make me purr like a cat. Your cock looks like it's trying to get in the tub with me ... sticking way out like that."

"Why don't I?"

"There isn't enough room. I could wash you there though ... with you kneeling like that. Soap you. Rub you."

He gives me the soap and I get my hands sudsy. I wash his prick slowly, working the soap in. I like the way his cock skin feels so smooth and slippery with the soap on it. I move my hand lower and wash his balls. I get him all white and soapy, then rinse him off. I love to run my hands over the smooth skin of his prick.

"I can't get all the soap off when you're kneeling there," I say. "Why don't I get out and you can get in and rinse off. Then I'll eat you while you're so nice and clean. We'll go in the other room where it's comfortable ... take our time, enjoy it."

We lie on the mattress, our bodies naked and still moist from the bath. The afternoon sun shines warm on us. It is perfect for it. I eat Hal first. I stroke his prick with my fingertips and bring it to my lips. I kiss his cockhead and lather it with my tongue. I press my mouth all along the slender pulsating shaft, making lipstick marks in an uneven row. I kiss his balls, his inner thighs. I slide my open mouth up along his cock, my tongue tasting his flesh.

I sit back, rest for a moment and bend down to him again. He is on his back now with his prick jutting up. I open my lips. The cockhead goes in. I let my teeth graze over it. I .slide my lips down farther until I have half of him in my mouth. I move my mouth back very slowly, teasing his taut wet skin with my tongue. I bite him. Lick him. I play with his balls, rub them gently against my chin. His prick is beautiful, good to have between my lips, the smoothness, the warmth, the sweet taste of it. It is made to be eaten. I am made to eat it. I take it deep into my mouth, suck it until he is about to cum. I stop. I lie back. "Your turn now," I say.

He eats me exquisitely. He sucks my cunt lips, chews them a little. I feel his tongue dip deep into me, linger against the walls of my pussy. I cum as he licks my clitoris. Then everything settles down inside me for a minute and I relax and enjoy it.



Chapter 8

It is late at night. Hot. The three of us sleep naked on the mattress. We have the windows open wide but there is no breeze. I feel restless, get up for a cigarette and sit by the window. In the room across the street I see the same couple I saw the first day I came here with Armand. They are talking, laughing about something, their arms around each other.

They come to the window and look out. The man fondles the woman's breasts. I wonder how often they've watched Hal or Armand or both of them fuck me. They can't see me now though. I've put out my cigarette and am hidden in darkness. They turn to face each other and embrace. I get the hot feeling in the pit of my stomach as the man begins to stroke the woman's pussy on the outside of her dress. She turns suddenly and draws the shade, but only halfway and I can still see his trousers and her skirt. In a moment her thighs are bare and I can see she isn't wearing panties. They move back deeper into the room and the man takes off his pants. I stare at his prick. It looks big and thick to me even from across the street. They get down on the bed. I watch them.

I put another cigarette in my mouth but don't light it. The cream begins to run in my cunt as I look at them. I want to be fucked too. I look over at Armand and Hal lying on their backs naked. Hal has screwed me almost every day since that first time a week ago, Armand less often. I know I could have either one or both of them now just by going over and waking them. But I can't help watching the others. I look at the man's cock pushing in and out of the woman's pussy and imagine how it would feel if it were in my cunt instead. I concentrate on it. Then suddenly they are finished and after a minute or so their light goes out. I sit there next to the window looking into the blackness and feeling strangely alone.

I go back to bed and crawl in between Armand and Hal. I reach down and take their soft pricks in my hands and stroke them very lightly. I don't want to wake them. Not now. I want to go over it again in my mind about the man and woman. I keep fondling Armand's cock. And Hal's. And keep imagining that the cock of the man across the way is pushing deeper and deeper into my cunt.

I take care of Armand's paintings at the Square while he goes to the dentist. It is sunny out and he has expected it to be a good day but no one buys anything from me, not even a sketch. I get impatient sitting on the bench smoking and watching all the people going by. I want to get up and walk along with them. Go somewhere. Anywhere ...

A man comes by and stops to study the paintings. He is tall and wears dark glasses. He seems interested in the painting of the old woman and the vases. He examines it carefully, holding his hand to his mouth. Then he looks at some portraits Armand has done. He says he likes them and asks me if I will paint his.

I smile. "I'm not the artist," I say. "I'm just here to help sell things. Come back tomorrow if you want to be painted."

"I'll be gone tomorrow. I'm alone in town ... staying at the Holiday Inn. I'm only here for tonight." He turns to study the painting of the old woman again but now I know he is just faking it.

I light a cigarette.

He tries to pick me up. He isn't very subtle about it. He even tells me how much money he has with him. I turn him down, say I can't leave the paintings.

"You could at least have a drink in the bar across the street with me," he says finally. "We'll sit by the window. You can watch the paintings from there."
"I don't need someone to buy me a drink," I say. I flip my cigarette into the gutter even though it is only half gone. "Did you want to buy a painting or not?"

He moves on. I watch him shuffle down the street. He stops again in front of someone else's paintings. I wish Armand would come back. I'd expected this to be enjoyable. But the time passes slowly. I smoke more cigarettes. I am bored and tired of it. I begin to wish that I'd gone with the man in the dark glasses.

It is late afternoon when Armand finally gets back from the dentist. We quit for the day and carry the stack of paintings back to his room. His jaw begins to hurt when the Novocain wears off. He opens some wine. I haven't eaten since breakfast and the wine makes my head hot even though I only sip it. Armand drinks the wine by the glassful but it doesn't help his jaw much. He lights a joint and asks me if I want some. I shake my head no. He smokes it down all the way and flops on the mattress. In minutes he is sleeping and I am just sitting there alone.

I make myself something to eat, then stand at the window staring out. I can hear the music and the shouting coming from Bourbon Street where the crowds are gathering a few blocks away. The room is stuffy. I wish we had a balcony so that I could sit out in the cool night air. I begin to feel shut in, imprisoned. The noise of the crowds and the music in the distance grows louder, beats a din against my ears.

I put on a tight black dress that hugs my breasts and go out. I wear heels but no stockings. When I reach Bourbon Street I mix in with the crowds and move along rapidly with them. It feels good to be away from Armand's room at first, to breathe in the fresh night air, to be a part of the crowds.

I walk on several blocks. Two soldiers try to pick me up but they look drunk and I ignore them. I gaze at the faces of the people coming the other way, hoping to see someone I know. But the faces all look alike. Eyes, noses, mouths pasted on white skin. Sometimes the eyes turn to stare at me. The crowds grow thicker, the music and the laughing louder. People keep bumping into me. I can't stand the bustling, the noise. It all presses in on me.

I turn at the corner and walk down to the next street, a block from Bourbon. It is quieter there. The crowds are smaller. There aren't so many cars, so many neon lights. I go into some of the antique shops and look about. In one place I play the music boxes until the clerk comes up and asks if I'm interested in buying one. I shake my head and go back out onto the street.

I walk on. I light a cigarette. At the next corner I catch a man's eye while I wait for the traffic light to change. I smile. He smiles back. Our arms brush as we cross the street. The shock feeling hits. Surges through me. We walk on together. We don't speak but there is no awkwardness. It just happens. He takes my arm and we walk back to Bourbon Street. He tells me his name is Jacques. "I'm Carrie," I say.

We go into a seafood place and order two plates of cold shrimp. They taste delicious. We each have a mug of beer. The waiter who brings our order is black and strikingly handsome. Jacques' knee presses against mine beneath the table. We eat the shrimp. I keep glancing at the black waiter as he moves about the restaurant. I push my leg back against Jacques, It is settled.

Jacques finishes his beer. "Do you want more shrimp?" he asks.

"Another plate? I couldn't.".

"Shall we go then?"

"All right."

"To my place?"

"Yes."

His room is small and dark. It has a bluish oriental rug. The head of some animal sticks out from a plaque on the wall. There is a lamp with an opaque green shade that casts an almost eerie glow across the room.

Jacques brings me a drink. It tastes bitter at first but the whiskey feels good on my throat. We share a cigarette. It is quiet in the room. The black velvet sofa we are sitting on is very soft. It relaxes me to be away from the crowds.

We kiss each other a little. Jacques feels my breasts. I rub his thigh, moving my hand almost all the way up to his prick.

"Would you rather go on the bed or stay here?" he asks.

"This is nice," I say.

"The bed is wider ... it'll be more comfortable."

"All right."

"... you want to undress first?"

"Yes."

We stand next to the bed and strip off each other's clothes. I cling to him, push my breasts against the hard warmth of his chest. His cock presses against my stomach. It feels large but not very hard. I pump it with my hand for almost a minute, trying to put some stiffness into it. I don't have much luck but still it excites me to be holding a strange new prick. I rub it against the curls of hair on my mound, pull the tip down to the soft moist folds of my pussy. Still nothing happens.

"I'd like to have you inside me," I say, "but I don't think you're hard enough yet."

"No ..."

"Do you have trouble that way?"

"Sometimes ..."

"Often?"

He nods. "But I didn't think I would with you. It was all right until everything started. Then I just ..."

"Is there anything I should do°"

"Just what you are ... keep rubbing me against yourself like that."

I do. I fit the head of his prick between my pussy lips and move it up and down as tantalizingly as I can against my skin. It seems to stiffen some. "We could try it now," I say. "Maybe if we could just get the end of you into me that would take care of the rest."

I pull the pillow out from under the bedspread and slide it under my buttocks. I spread my thighs wide, opening my pussy to him as much as I can. He kneels over me. Together we try to stuff him into me. It doesn't work. We manage to get his cock almost halfway in but then it bends and softens and he shrinks out of me.

I give it up and let go of him. "Maybe we should rest awhile," I say. "Try it again later."

He nods and moves away from me. He sits on the edge of the bed and smokes a cigarette. He doesn't offer me one. He doesn't even look at me. He is obviously miserable, unhappy, frustrated. I am only frustrated.

"I think you worry about it too much," I say. "Probably thinking about it and all just makes it worse."

He doesn't answer. He stares straight ahead.

I sit there for a minute feeling helpless. Then I have an idea. I slide up next to him on the bed until my cunt is pressing against his ass. "Maybe I should eat you," I say.

He turns, looks at me. He doesn't say anything but his eyes brighten. '
I keep it up, make it stronger. "I'd like to suck you. You have such a nice prick to look at. It would feel so good in my mouth. I'd kiss it, suck it. Your balls too. All of you. Let me feel your cock now. Mmm, it's a nice warm one. I like men who feel so warm and smooth. Come on, slide over here next to me so I can eat you ... make you big and hard. You can eat my cunt too if you want. I'd like to feel your tongue way up inside me."

He swings his legs back up onto the bed. I turn so that my mouth is in front of his prick, my belly against his face. I feel his fingers separate the folds of my pussy. His touch is delightful. I stroke his cock teasingly, take the tip into my mouth. He eats my cunt. I feel his tongue dip between my pussy lips. He reaches up and feels the points of my breasts.

I suck his prick. He has a different taste, a sweeter taste than other men. I like it. I swallow what I can from him as the stickiness keeps leaking out. It is like thick honey, like sweet wine. His cock is not hard but it fills my mouth. Thick. Supple. Smooth. I slide my lips down the outside of the shaft. I kiss his balls, press my tongue against them.

I go back to the big wet tip. I don't care now whether his cock gets hard. I just want to feel his scum spill against my throat. I want to taste it, drink it.

I suck him harder. I rub the tender skin behind his balls. I feel his hips lift, his hands grip my legs. I mouth his prick expectantly. It throbs. He lunges up. His seed spurts into my mouth, warm creamy, sweet. I swallow some of it, let the rest trickle out of my mouth. I lick his prick once more, then slip it out of my mouth and nuzzle my cheek in against its sticky softness.

I expect him to be satisfied, happy that he's finished in my mouth. But instead he gets up and paces about the room irritably, smoking a cigarette. He makes two drinks, hands me one. But he doesn't say anything. He avoids looking at me.

I feel awkward, try to think of something to say. "I think you were really hard enough for awhile there," I lie. "But I got so carried away I just couldn't stop eating you ..."

He doesn't answer. He just looks at me blankly, takes a long swallow of his drink.

I give up trying to talk to him. I put the pillow under my head and lie back on it and close my eyes. After a few minutes I feel myself slipping off to sleep. When I wake hours later, the room is dark except for the dawn light seeping through the window. Jacques isn't in bed with me. I decide he must be gone and get up and dress quickly to leave.

As I cross the room to get my purse, I see him asleep on the sofa sitting up, his head drooped forward against his chest. I stand there looking at him for a moment. I feel sorry for him. I go out the door quietly, careful not to wake him. The streets are empty, bleak in the grey dawn. I pass a man who is pulling a cart filled with old clothes and bottles. The bottles rattle. There is debris all along the street.



Chapter 9

After that I go out often. I never plan it but I get restless, bored, the feeling that I am in a prison and I have to get out. "I'm going for a walk," I say. Armand glances up from his paintings. He nods. Sometimes he smiles. Hal just stares at me. He'd screw me every night if I wanted him to but once or so a week now is enough for me with him. I crave something, someone new. Men I see along the street. Strangers who excite me when I just look at them. I am never in any hurry about finding someone. I only go for men who appeal to me strongly. Sometimes I end up just coming back to the room and crawling into bed between Armand and Hal and waking one or both of them to fuck me.

But when I do see a man I want, it never takes very long to get him into bed with me. Or into the back seat of a car. Or onto the damp grass of some small park. I play with their pricks. Eat them. I fuck them violently, pushing my cunt hard against their eager thrusts. The warmth of strange new cocks filling me thrills me and I cum again and again. Sometimes it doesn't work out and I leave their cars or rooms disappointed. But with most, it is everything I need and afterwards my body glows for hours. I go back to Armand's ,feeling exuberant, vital, content, sure that for awhile I will want to be only with Armand and Hal.

But the glow goes away and I get restless again. Over several weeks I screw almost a dozen different men. It is a one time thing with each of them. I crave only the newness, the strangeness of their pricks pushing into .me and when it is over I go on to someone else.

One night I fuck a delivery man in the back of his truck. We knock over some sacks of groceries and a bag of oranges breaks and the oranges go rolling all about. Afterwards we peel some of them and eat them. He is young and his cock gets stiff again in a few minutes and we fuck a second time. Then we break open a bag of doughnuts and eat them until we are stuffed. Another night I pick up two sailors and we go back to their hotel room and drink warm beer. They get into a competition about me and try to exclude each other. Finally they almost get into a fight about it but I solve that by peeling off my clothes and pulling them both up close to me so that I can suck one's cock while the other screws me.

The cock of the sailor fucking me is surprisingly small and doesn't do me much good but the one I am eating is big and stiff so I take it easy while it is in my mouth to save his cuming for my cunt. It is worth it because when he screws me after the other sailor finishes, the tip of his prick pokes up all the way to the neck of my womb and I cum explosively over and over as he keeps fucking it into me.

We drink more beer afterwards and I think that the sex part of it is over but the sailor with the small cock gets a little drunk and insists that I 'suck him too so that he'll be even up with his buddy. I'm not interested and try to hold him off but he keeps sticking his soft small cock in my face. Finally I get up and grab my purse and start to leave but he blocks my way. When I can't get around him, I knee him hard in the groin and he hops away yelping. I hear the other sailor laughing as I hurry out the door. By the time I reach the elevator I can hear the sounds of the two of them scuffling and cursing at each other. I pick up another man at a bar down the street and come back to another room in the same hotel and spend the rest of the night with him.

I look sometimes for the man who lives in the room across from Armand's. I watch for him to come out of the building. I look for him along the streets. But I never see him. Finally, one afternoon I spot him coming down Royal Street. After a few minutes conversation I realize that he isn't the man from across the street after all. But I go to bed with him anyway. He fucks well and I forget my disappointment that he isn't the man I'd first thought.

It goes on like that. I feel, I eat, I fuck.

Armand has sold three paintings today and is in an unusually good mood. He takes Hal and Lorraine and me out to dinner. We come back to the room and he pours wine all around. It is an expensive wine he says. We drink for awhile, then he asks me to dance. His body feels good up against mine. I haven't been this close to him in days. He is a surprisingly good dancer and I enjoy gliding about the room with him. Lorraine and Hal sit on the mattress smoking a joint. Lorraine laughs as Armand and I almost lose our balance whirling about. Her laugh sounds coarse. I haven't seen her since the day I first came here.

Armand tires of dancing and we sit down and he pours more wine. Hal and Lorraine are rolling about on the mattress laughing and feeling each other and gradually getting out of their clothes. They start screwing. Armand and I drink our wine and watch them. Lorraine still has on a black half-slip but nothing else. Hal is naked. I watch his prick drive in and out of the pink wet folds of her cunt.

"Shall we smoke a little grass?" I ask Armand.

He raises his eyebrows.

"You look surprised," I say.

"It's just that it's the first time you've asked for it.

"I just feel like some ... after the dinner and the wine and the dancing and all."

He gets a joint from the shelf in the kitchen. He lights it and we pass it back and forth. I inhale deeper than usual, suck the smoke down into my lungs. "Mmm I can feel it already," I say.

"That's because you've had the wine too."

"Maybe ..." I say. I puff the cigarette again. Everything in the room seems to come precisely into focus. "... there, that's enough. I feel just right now." I hand the joint back to him. I pat him on the shoulder. "It was nice of you to take us out to dinner."

"I sold three paintings."

"It was nice anyway ... the most pleasant evening I've had in a long time. Just don't drink so much wine or take so much of the joint that you won't want to screw me."

He laughs. "No chance of that," he says. "Shall we get down on the bed with them now?"

"Let's wait until they finish.""Do you like to watch them?"

"Mmm hmm, I guess so ... don't you?"

"In a way ... yes. It primes me."

"Like the wine and the grass?"

"Something like that."

I laugh. "Are you primed now?" I reach over and feel his cock through his trousers. It is hard like iron. "Mmm, yes ... want me to unzip you?"

He nods and puts his arm around my shoulder. I pull down his zipper, reach in, take hold of his thick cock. I play with his cock, making the wetness trickle out. I keep watching Hal and Lorraine fuck. My panties get sticky.

"Who do you like best?" Armand asks.

"... huh?"

"Which one of us? Hal or me I mean?"

"To fuck ...? That's not really a fair question." I pump his prick. "If you want an honest answer though, I'd have to say I like it best when I have both of you at the same time.. Do you think that's
strange?"

"No. It just happened that way with us, I think. Have you been with other men since you came here?"

"... you think I have?"

"Yes ... when you go out. Haven't you?"

"Mmm hmm."

"Many?"

"Quite a few. It never happens more than once with any of them though. I hope you're not angry."

"Why should I be?"

"I don't know ... I just hope you're not. I get restless sometimes. And then I meet someone and it just seems to happen."

"I know ..."

"But you're really not jealous or anything?"

"No ... what good would that do? I'd rather have you to myself of course. Not with Hal either. But I don't try to control anyone. You can't do that." His deep brown eyes look sad.

I don't reply for a moment. I'm not sure what to say. "I don't feel quite that way about it, I guess," I say hesitantly. "I mean it's good with you ... the best. But I always seem, to want something else too. Someone new, strange, different. It all seems to keep building up in me until I see someone I think I want. It's as if I keep looking for something but never quite find it. And when it isn't strange and new with someone anymore, I always end up looking for someone else again. I don't know why really ... it just happens. I can't seem to help it. You think there's something wrong with that?"

"Everyone is different."

"But what do you think about me? Do you oh, I'm getting too serious talking like this, why don't we just fuck?"

Armand laughs. "If my cock is still new enough for you ..."

"I like your cock." I say. "Really better than any of the others. Just not better than all of them. Oh I don't know what I'm talking about. Come on, screw me. Let's not talk about it. Here ... let's do it right here on the chair."

"With you on top?"

"Mmm hmm ... come on ... let's start it."

"Are you going to fuck Hal later?"

"Probably. I think so. Someone at least. But let's not think about that now. Come on, I'm all juicy inside waiting for you. Let's get your pants off first. I like to have all of your skin bare against me. I'll undress too. I like it best when I'm naked with you. You can feel my breasts then, touch me everywhere. You look so good to me with your cock sticking up there waiting."

I get out of my dress and under things and crawl over him. I place my knees between the outside of his thighs and the arms of the big overstuffed chair. We sink down low because of the broken spring. I grasp his prick tight in my hand and rub the big head of it against the outside of my cunt lips. He plays with my breasts, does wonderful things to them with his fingers.

I keep teasing myself for a minute by not putting his cock all the way into me, then suddenly push down hard against him, feel him poke deep up into my cunt.

We fuck. I ride his prick hungrily for a minute, making it move rapidly in and out. Then I slow my strokes and savor the feeling of the hardness of him rubbing on the walls of my cunt. I cum. I like to fuck this way. To ride a prick. "Oh, fuck me, fuck me."



Chapter 10

I walk the streets. Rampart Street. Bourbon Street. Toulouse. The night grows dark. I walk in the glow of neon. Pitchmen stand in front of strip joints trying to coax people in. Music blares out from behind the open doors. The crowds keep pushing by me. I don't see any men who interest me. I think about the handsome black waiter, but the seafood house is blocks away. I decide to stop somewhere for a drink and rest my feet. And maybe go later to the seafood place.

I see the bar where I first met Armand and go down the half flight of steps and inside. It is more crowded than the first time I was there. Most of the customers look high. The music from the back room is loud and hurts my ears.

I am surprised to see Lorraine sitting alone at a table in the corner. She waves for me to come over. The waiter brings us a drink. We chat about nothing in particular. I don't really know her very well. I've only seen her a few times at Armand's. Our knees bump beneath the table. Her leg seems to linger against mine. I am surprised when a man suddenly comes over and sits down next to her a boy really. I'd thought she was by herself. I feel left out of it as he nuzzles up to her and begins planting kisses against her cheek and neck. I am about ready to leave when Lorraine's friend excuses himself and gets up and walks through the bar to the room in back.

Lorraine laughs. "He goes back there every few minutes to take a look at the strippers," she says. "I think he --"She interrupts herself. "Shall I get rid of him?" she asks. She stares at me, her eyes intense.

I don't know quite what to make of her question but I say yes. She keeps looking into my eyes until I have to turn away.

The young man comes back. He sits down and starts drinking his beer.

"How are the girls doing?" Lorraine asks sarcastically.

"... girls?"

"The ones in the back room. The dancers. The ones you go running back every few minutes to see? Do they reach out and grab your prick? Shall I ...?" I see her hand reach beneath the table. "... like this?" Her eyes tease him. I can tell that she is working at his zipper. He looks bewildered.

I hear the zipper slide open. I can tell when she grabs his cock by his sudden wide-eyed look. I see her arm start to pump. Her date or whoever he is doesn't seem to know what to make of it. He looks as if he wants her to stop but can't help letting her go ahead. We are in a dark corner of the room and I don't think anyone else notices.
The boy leans forward, grips the table as she pumps him. His eyes are glazed, his lips drawn taut and thin. I can't help glancing beneath the table. I see that his prick is all the way out. It is huge and erect. It looks very swollen above the dark material of his trousers. Lorraine's hand is working at it furiously. But when I look above the table again, ,the upper half of her body and her face are relaxed and innocent looking.

She keeps taunting him as she jerks him off. Her voice is barely a whisper. A coarse whisper. "Does my hand feel good on your prick? Do I rub it as well as the strippers? You have such a nice big hard one. You should let everyone have a turn feeling it. Maybe Carrie would like to. Oh well, more chance for me then. Nice, juicy, big prick. Mmm it's going to feel nice when your warm cum shoots all over my hand. Let it go, big boy. Don't hold back. Fuck my hand. My hand is a cunt ... fuck it."

He doesn't last long. I can tell when he starts spurting. His face gets very red. His body tenses. For a moment I can only see the whites of his eyes. Then the color leaves his face. He turns ashen. He slumps forward over the table.

Lorraine withdraws her hand. I can see her wiping it methodically on the leg of his trousers. "Well, that takes care of you, big boy. You. won't be needing me for anything else tonight, will you? Why don't you go watch the girls in the back room again?" she taunts. "Maybe if you look long enough you'll be able to get your cock hard again."

Lorraine laughs and keeps laughing as he gets up and stumbles away from the table, trying to cover the big wet spots on his trousers with his hands. He hurries into the men's room. Lorraine turns to me. She is still laughing. "How do you like that for getting rid of a creep with a dozen easy strokes?"

"Wasn't it rather cruel?" I can't help saying.

"Cruel ...? He got his rocks off. That's all he wanted. That's all any of them want." She leans toward me. Her elbow presses against mine. "I'd just as soon leave here ... why don't we go to my place? Have a drink there. Okay?"

I nod. "All right."

"First I've got to go wash off my hands. He must have shot out a gallon of the stuff. Be back in a minute."

I watch her walk across the carpet to the ladies' room. She has a sexy figure and the men at some of the tables turn to stare at her as she goes by I don't enjoy it much being with her. She is too harsh. I don't really want to go with her now but I feel committed.

The decor of Lorraine's apartment startles me when we go in. The furniture is mod and there are lots of clashing colors. There are all sorts of gadgets scattered about, and mobiles hanging from the ceiling begin to move as she turned on the rather dim lights. A tall, thin totem pole with a dozen eyes seems to leer at me as the eyes keep opening shutting. There is a barber's pole with stripes of many colors that goes slowly around and around. A stereo comes on and plays dissonant music.

I stare at the mobile in the center of the room, watching the balancing bodies of naked men and women more slowly about. The woman's breasts are huge, their cunts gaping. The men's cock jut out almost grotesquely. The walls of the room are covered with large posters, most of them sexual. Naked women. Naked men. Feeling each other. Fucking each other. Two of the women are eating each other. I see two yellowish posters with the naked man in one reaching across the wall to rub the widespread cunt lips of the woman in the other.

"... like it?" Lorraine asks.

I laugh tightly. "Which ...?"

"All of it?"

"... it's interesting. I've never seen anything like it."

"I wanted to have an apartment that was something special. Something I could show off to my friends. And it gives me a kick when I feel down. This one over here is my favorite ..."

She is pointing to a sculpture in the corner of the room but it is too dark to see it clearly. I step closer. Then suddenly a spotlight comes on and shines on it. There are three figures. At the base of the sculpture a woman sits with her hair fanned back over her shoulders. She is leaning back slightly, supporting herself on her hands. Next to her stands a man. The tip of his erect penis is only an inch or so from her mouth which is turned toward him. Between the woman's legs kneels another woman, her head bent just above the first woman's cunt. The whole thing is done in some kind of greyish clay like material but it lights up in brilliant changing colors as the revolving spotlight shines on it.

"Watch this," says Lorraine. She presses a button at the base of the sculpture. I hear a whirring noise. The woman sits up a little more and the cock of the man standing enters her mouth. The two figures move back and forth as she sucks him. The kneeling woman bends forward farther and starts eating the first woman's cunt. The figures are each about eighteen inches high. They look very strange moving under the colored lights. I stare at them. The music from the stereo plays.

"That's me on the bottom," Lorraine laughs. "I've got both of the others just as I like them." She gestures about the room. "Everyone says it's weird but they're all crazy to come here to turn on. Shall we have a drink? Or smoke a joint?"

I don't want any grass. The odd room affects me strangely but I have no interest in turning on with Lorraine. "A drink would be fine," I say. "Bourbon maybe ..."

"I'll get it. You look around at everything. Tell me what you like best."
We sit opposite each other on sections of a big green circular davenport. Lorraine crosses her legs so that her skirt hikes up her thighs almost to her pussy. She drinks her drink slowly, all the time looking at me. I start to feel uncomfortable being alone with her.

She must. read my mind. She asks if I'd mind if she invited over a couple of her friends. "They live in this building," she says. "On the next floor up. They're very nice."

"... sounds fine to me," I say.

She makes a phone call and in a few minutes there is a knock at the door. Lorraine goes to open it. I am surprised that her friends are women. And disappointed. The first to enter is a rather nondescript blond. She vaguely resembles Lorraine but is not nearly as pretty. The other is a tall striking willowy girl with lovely features and flaming auburn hair. Lorraine introduces us all around. The tall girl's name is Rae. I don't catch the name of the blond.

We all sit down. Rae sits next to Lorraine. I am with the blond. I find this arrangement vaguely irritating. We exchange small talk about this and that. I gaze across at Rae. She crosses her legs. She isn't wearing stockings.

Lorraine laughingly tells about jerking off the boy at the bar.

The blond laughs coarsely with her.

Rae only smiles.

I don't laugh or smile at all. I find myself staring at one of the nude posters on the wall. The strong smell of the blond's perfume annoys me.

"Let's pass a joint," Lorraine says. She goes to another room and comes back with one.

"Aren't we going to change first... ?" the blond says. She turns to me. "Lory has these way out costumes. Have you seen them?

I shake my head.

"I'm comfortable this way," Rae says. "Let's just stay dressed as we are."

"Okay ... whatever you say," Lorraine says.

The blond sulks a little. I wish she wasn't sitting next to me. I wish I was next to Rae. I try to keep from staring but my eyes keep going back to her. She has unusually smooth beautiful skin.

Lorraine lights the joint, takes one deep puff and gives it to Rae. Rae holds it for a moment, watching the smoke rise. She brings the cigarette slowly to her lips. They part, pink and moist. She puffs lightly, exhales in a natural easy breath. She brings the cigarette over to me. Her legs are slender and tan under a light blue skirt.

She hands me the joint. Our fingertips brush. I feel a strange tingling inside me. Rae smiles. "It's strong," she cautions. "Take just one puff." Her voice is even, smooth.

I smile back. "Thank you," I say. I puff the joint just once as she suggested. I realize suddenly that Rae is sitting next to me now. She has done it so smoothly I hadn't even noticed. I hand the cigarette to the blond. She sucks in deep on it several times, then takes it over to Lorraine and sits down next to her.

I turn to Rae. "I've smoked pot before," I say, "so it's really nothing new to me."

She smiles. "I know ... but the ones Lorraine gets are strong. Too much at once and you won't know what you're doing."

"Can you feel it yet?" Rae asks.

"Yes ... a little I think."

"These take a minute. Then it all comes on you at once." She places her hand on my shoulder. I flinch instinctively and she draws her hand quickly away. "Are you a straight?" she asks, surprise in her voice.

I hesitate. "Yes ... I guess you'd call me that. But leave your hand there. It's all right. I didn't mean to jump."

She doesn't put her hand back on me. "I'm sorry," she says. "I thought that what with you being here with Lorraine and all that" She pauses. "You know what I am, don't you?" she says.

"Yes ... I think so."

"And you don't mind my touching you like that?"

"No."

She smiles beautifully. Her lips part and show the pink of her tongue.

"Is Lorraine like you?" I ask. "I've seen her with men too."

Rae laughs. "She's a bi. She goes for anything really. Haven't you looked at the things she's got in this room?"

"Most of them. ... don't you care for men at all then?"

"Occasionally. Sometimes when I'm on a trip. I took acid once last year and ended up with a man. It was so good with him I decided I'd been all wrong about myself. But the next time he didn't do anything for me. I haven't tried it with a man since."

"That's strange."

"What?"

"That a person could go back and forth like that."

"I don't really. I'm not a bi or anything. That was an exception. The way I feel right now, I don't think I'll ever want a man again."

"It still seems strange ... ooh it's beginning to hit me now ... the grass. You were right, they are strong. .I can feel it flowing all through me. It makes me want to laugh and laugh. Look, Lorraine and whats-her-name are starting to make it with each other already. I've never watched two women. Shouldn't we ask them for the joint back now?"

"Not yet," Rae says. "Let's just sit here. I feel like I'm floating, don't you? Grass always makes me feel that way."

"Yes, floating. I guess that's it in a way. It makes me feel larger too ... very tall, as if it would take me only a few steps to walk across the earth. ... Aren't you going to put your hand back on me?"

"If you want me to."

"I do ... yes."

Rae places her hand lightly on the bare skin of my forearm, moves it slowly up to the crevice of my elbow, rests it there.

I feel a shudder ... no, not a shudder really, just a sudden warmth flooding me. I look at Rae's face. Her features are just as fine and lovely from close up as they are from a distance. Everything about her is smooth and soft. The touch of her fingertips feels like gentle pinpricks at my skin.

"You've never been with a girl ... a woman, have you?" she says.

"No ... You can tell?"

She laughs. "Mmm hmm ... that's easy. Have you ever thought about it? Are you thinking about it now?" Her voice is smooth, silky, seductive. I love to listen to the sound of it. I am high from the grass and her voice seems to come from far away. But at the same time she seems to be whispering in my ear, kissing me there. And then I realize that she is. I can feel her lips light against my ear lobe, pressing gently on it. Her hand is still on my arm. Her other arm is draped over my shoulder, her fingers hanging just above the curve of my breasts. I can hear my heart starting to beat faster, and feel a throbbing in my head. But I haven't answered her question and she repeats it.

"Yes ... how could I help it," I say. She looks beautiful to me sitting there. I love the touch of her mouth against the lobes of my ear ... my cheek ... my hair. It is a strange new exquisite feeling. Her lips move against my neck. I feel the pressure of her hand on one of my breasts through the thin material of my dress. My nipple feels as if a needle has been stuck in it: But there is no hurt. Instead just a jolting, thrilling shock.

"You're not wearing a bra," Rae says.

"I didn't feel like putting one on," I say. "This dress feels so much nicer against my skin. Clings to me. Mmmm, I like your fingers to touch me there. I never knew another woman's hand could make me feel this way."

"Shall we take it off ... your dress?"

"I don't know ... Not here anyway. Not with them over there." My head is spinning from the grass and my breasts ache for Rae's touch but I don't want to do anything in the same room with the others. Lorraine and the blond are naked now. Eating each other. It repulses me to look at them.

"We could go into the bedroom," Rae says.

"Yes ..."

Rae leads me into the bedroom. I don't look down at the others as we pass them. She flips on the light. The bedroom isn't at all like the other rooms. There are no posters, no sexual objects, no revolving lights. The bedspread and drapes are blue. The room is spotless, almost radiantly clean.

Rae steps toward me and unzips my dress. She pulls it slowly over my head and lays it neatly on the bed. I am naked now except for my thin white panties. She gazes at me.

"Aren't you going to get out of your things too?" I ask.

"If you want me to ..."

"Yes."



Chapter 11

We stand in front of each other naked. My nipples spike. They itch. I feel the cream flow thick in my pussy. Rae is lovely. Each curve of her body is perfect. Her waist indents beautifully just above her hips. The hair around her pussy is the same flaming auburn as the hair on her head. The silky wisps of it do not hide the glistening pinkness of her pussy.

Her breasts are very white with rigid strawberry points. She looks at me almost modestly but I see the hunger in her eyes and I hunger for her too. I want to bury myself in her softness, to have her bury herself in mine.

We step toward each other and I feel her fingertips like teasing needles against my skin. I reach out hesitantly to touch her breasts. She arches her back and tosses back her head as I run my hands lightly over them. She strokes my nipples with her fingertips. I cum at her touch. Our hands seem to be moving in slow motion ... caressing each other endlessly. My orgasm goes on and on.

Her hands move down over my flat stomach to the hair on my cunt. Her fingers find the opening to my pussy, slip between the soft sticky folds. I feel the walls of my vagina contract. My clitoris swells. Her fingers are delightful against my skin, sliding deep inside me.

She presses forward, kisses me full on the mouth. Her lips are cool, moist. I taste the sweetness of her tongue. I move my hand down over her ribs to her hips. I hesitate. She takes my hand and guides it to her pussy. I let my finger reach out, touch her. I caress her creamy velvet skin.

We spread each other's cunt lips open with our fingers. We rub the pink wetness of our cunts against each other, velvet on velvet. I hear her sighs, her groans, her small cries of delight. I close my eyes.

I cum again as Rae does. My orgasm goes on as if it will never end. Then I fall into a blissful sleep.

I wake. It seems like hours later. Rae is still sleeping on her back next to me. Her breasts stand firm, her nipples poke up. Her thighs and belly look very white around the delicate auburn hair above her pussy. Her pink slit glistens beneath. She looks almost unbelievably beautiful lying there next to me but I cannot believe that I have really made love to another woman. I reach out and place my hand on her thigh just inches below her pussy. The same electric shock hits me that did before. I touch the puff of hair on her cunt, curl it between my fingers.

She stirs. Wakes. She looks up into my eyes. Her eyes are a very light blue. She reaches up and strokes one of my breasts. I slip my fingers down to her pussy, find her clitoris, caress it. She draws me down closer to her, covers my face and breasts with kisses. She sits up, kneels over me, presses openmouthed kisses all along the length 'of my body. My hips dance involuntarily under her touch. Her mouth reaches the moist, skin of any pussy. I open my legs to her. I wait for the touch of her tongue.

She eats my cunt. She eats me beautifully, probing deep inside me with her tongue. Licks me. Chews my pussy lips and clitoris. I buck violently under the caress of her mouth. I want to eat her now too. I change my position on the bed, slide my head up to her pussy, spread her cunt lips apart with my tongue. I eat her sweet cunt.

We finish in a single violent explosion. Rae moves her mouth away from me. But I am still hungry for her and keep my mouth against the deep wet pool of her cunt. I drink in her wetness until her pussy lips begin to dry. I sit up then and lie back next to her. I press my cheek against hers. Her skin feels cool. I can smell the fragrance of her perfume. A strand of her hair tickles my face. We caress each other's breasts. Very slowly. Tenderly. She is beautiful. She is soft. Everything is warmth ... softness ... velvet...

Armand is screwing me. My legs are locked around his back. His thick meaty cock is ;pushing in and out of my cunt. But I feel almost nothing with him. I am thinking of Rae. Twenty minutes ago I finished it with Hal but it wasn't any good with him either. He is asleep now next to us.

I wish it were over with Armand too, that I hadn't wakened him to start it. He is too heavy on me. I don't like the smell of his sweat. His fingers against my breasts are like thick stubby clubs. I came with Hal when he fucked me. Just once. Mildly. Right at the end. I probably will with Armand when he finishes in a few minutes too. But it won't be anything really.

The only reason I am fucking Armand the only reason I screwed Hal before is that it bothers me some about Rae. Bothers me that I could react so violently to another woman's touch. Bothers me that after being with her I don't have any interest in men. I couldn't stand the thought of being a lesbian ... queer ... gay. ...

I ride up against Armand's big prick trying to make it feel good, trying to enjoy the warm thickness of it sliding in and out of my cunt. But it isn't any use. I am only going through the motions. I wait for him to cum and get it over with. I drive back harder against him. He reacts the way I want him to. I feel his cum spill into me. I wait for him to climb off.

I lie between the two of them trying to get back to sleep. I hear them snoring. They both roll toward me and I feel I am being crushed. I slide out from between them. I get up and pull on my dress.

It isn't until I am outside that- I realize I won't be going back there again except to get my things. I feel a little sad for a moment about that. But I have had enough of it. I am restless, bored, depressed. It is more than just a worry about everything with Rae. I want to go on ... have to go on. There must be something. There must be a place. Somewhere. ...

I find Jacques again. We go to the same restaurant for shrimp. I see the handsome black waiter but don't pay much attention to him. I am concentrating on Jacques. I know he probably wonders what I want. with him after the way it ended before. I laugh to myself. Maybe he thinks I prefer to suck.

But I am intent on really making it with him this time. I need to make him want me. I need to make myself want him. I need to be able to make his prick hard enough to screw me. I have it in my mind that if I can get him stiff enough it will excite me too and get rid of the thoughts that bother me about Rae.

I nudge him with my knee as we finish our third mug of beer. "Let's leave ... go to your place," I say.

I sit on the black velvet sofa waiting for him to finish making our drinks. I am impatient. I smoke my cigarette and brush off the ash.

He brings the drinks and stands in front of me. I stare at the large but soft looking bulge in his trousers.

I take my drink, taste it. "Mmm, you didn't tell me you were making martinis."

"I don't have anything but gin. Unless you'd rather have another beer."

"No, this is delicious. ... Don't sit down, just stand there."

"Hmm?"

"Here in front of me. Just stand like you were."

He looks at me puzzled. "Why?"

I smile. "No special reason. I just like to look at you ... the way your prick bulges out against your pants. Shall I unzip you?"

"Whatever you say ..."

I know that he thinks I just have it in mind to eat him again and I don't let on that I am thinking anything else. I unzip his trousers. His prick comes out big and thick but not at all hard. I get out his balls too. I caress the sac that holds them with the tips of my fingers. I stroke his cock teasingly. I know that if I'm going to get it stiff enough to fuck me I should try to work him up to it right away.

"Do you like me to touch you like this?" I ask.

"Yes ..."

"... here?"

He moans a little.

"How about here ... down here wear your balls?"

"Yes ... Jesus!" He grits his teeth. His eyes are shut. But his cock remains soft, supple.

"You have a good prick to hold," I say. "It's bigger even soft like this than most men's are when they're hard."

"... you think so?"

"Mmm hmm. If it got really stiff, I bet it'd barely. fit inside me. That'd feel nice to have it rub so thick and hard against my cunt. Mmm, it makes me warm all over just to think about it ... to look at you there. Your prick is like a soldier. Let's make it stand at attention. Proud. See the helmet it wears. It goes into battle. It fights. Your balls give it ammunition. I am the enemy. I make you big, then I swallow you up and make you small again."

"Do it then --"

"First I should salute ..."

His eyes flash. "Do it ... eat me. Don't make a joke!"

I laugh. "Don't be upset," I say. "I was just enjoying you ... looking at your big cock. Shall I kiss it? Lick the tip?"

"Yes." His cock rises slightly.

"I'll suck you then. I'll bet I can make you hard. Mmm, you're getting some backbone in you now. I'll make you like iron." I press my lips to the tip of his prick. "I love to kiss you like this. You taste so good. I won't talk anymore. I'll eat you ... kiss you again first. Like this ... here. Now take you inside my mouth. Suck you."

I slip his prick deep into my mouth and suck it. I rub the underside of the hairy base with my fingertips. I feel it suddenly grow rigid in my mouth.

Immediately I am up. I strip off my panties, pull my skirt up over my belly. I bend over the sofa and thrust my buttocks out at him. My cunt is wet with the excitement of it. I reach back and grab his hard erect cock. "Fuck me now ... screw me. Stick your big prick into me."

He pushes into my cunt with one hard lunge. He cries out his excitement. Urgently he drives his cock in and out of me. It feels good. He pumps harder faster deeper. I buck feverishly back against him.

In a moment it is over. His cock explodes, fills me with its cum. I cum too. It isn't as good at the end as I'd thought it would be but it is enough to end my worries about Rae. In a moment though, I feel the excitement drain out of me. I just stand there bending over the sofa with Jacques' softening prick still in my cunt. My back aches. It is a relief when he finally pulls out.

I straighten up. Jacques takes me by the arms and swings me around to face him. He is beaming. "Jesus, that was good," he says. "Let's ,drink those martinis now."

I smile weakly. "All right ..."

"Something wrong?" No.

He frowns some. "Maybe it wasn't good for you ...?"

"No, it was fine that way. I just feel a little letdown now that it's over. I guess I just wanted it expected it to go on and on ..."

"Maybe the martini will make you feel better."

"Yes, maybe ..."



Chapter 12

Lorraine calls and invites me to her place for a party. I've been staying with Jacques the last few days because I have nowhere else to go. Except back to Armand's and I haven't changed my mind about that. Staying with Jacques is at least something new. Lorraine says someone told her she could reach me there.

"When?" I ask.

"Tonight ..."

I don't care much about seeing her but I am bored being only with Jacques. I think about; Rae. "Okay, I'll be there," I say. '

When I get to Lorraine's, no one else has arrived. "The others will be coming along soon," she tells me. She makes drinks. "Bacardi," she says, handing me mine." ... like it?"

"Yes, I haven't had one for a long time."

We sip the drinks, finish them. Lorraine makes two more, then excuses herself. She comes out of the bedroom a few minutes later wearing a lacy low-cut black negligee with tiny pearl snaps in front. "I feel more relaxed in one of these," she says. "I have lots of others if you'd care to wear one."

I shake my head no.

"Oh well, suit yourself," she says. "Anyway your dress is pretty." She puts on some records. Dance music. She comes back to the sofa and sits down and tries to put the make on me. I've been expecting this and don't want any part of it. I shy away from her.

"Not interested, huh? ... too bad. But I can't blame you about feeling it for Rae and not for me. She's a stunner, isn't she?" Lorraine laughs her coarse laugh. "Oh don't worry, there are really others coming. I wouldn't pull something like that. I just asked you over a little early. Thought we might have some fun. But relax, we'll just have our drinks and wait for the rest of them."

We listen to the records. Lorraine tells about the different women she has made it with. And the men. Compares them. I keep drinking and watching the door.

It is almost eight before anyone else gets there. When Lorraine answers the door, it is the floozy blond who lives with Rae. She is alone. "Rae will be a little late," the blond says to Lorraine. "She's still at work." She spots me on the sofa then. "Well hello, lover." She laughs harshly. She and Lorraine are a pair. They deserve each other. But it stirs me to know that Rae is coming and I smile as pleasantly as I can.

The rest of the guests begin to arrive. Another girl, that I don't know. Then two men. I recognize one of them as the pitchman from one of the strip joints on Bourbon Street. He is tall and bony with a thin mustache. I am beginning to think that this is going to be a strange thing but then a few couples come in and I start to feel better about it all. By eight-thirty there are at least twenty guests there. I keep looking for Rae and glancing at my watch.

Lorraine goes about telling everyone to help themselves to drinks. A few in the crowd start puffing grass. I enjoy the smell of it but I stick to my regular cigarettes. Everybody keeps talking about some show and asking Lorraine when it's going to start. "Soon," she says ". . . don't be in such a hurry ... take it easy ... relax." She laughs roughly.

Sometime after nine, ten people arrive all at once. Six women. Four men. Rae isn't among them. They all seem to be high on pot. They are dressed strangely, the men all in black, the women in pastels. Costumes almost. They look something like a troupe of magicians. They walk into the place as if they own it. Everyone else backs away. The two men help Lorraine pull back the sections of the sofa to form a larger circle. The ten of them gather in the middle of the circle, smoking grass and gulping drinks the other guests bring to them. Someone moves the coffee table out of the way. The rest of the guests gather about, sitting on the sofa or standing behind it.

"Hey, turn up the lights somebody," one of the men calls out. The blond goes to the switch and the lights come on bright. Lorraine's posters and mobiles look grotesque, obscene. A spotlight focuses oh the oddly dressed group that has just arrived. Everyone is talking loudly. I can't make out much of what they say.

"If you'll all be quiet a minute, we can get started," Lorraine calls out. The noise dies. Lorraine goes over to the group, says something to one of the men, then comes back to her place next to me. The music from the stereo starts up.

Lorraine turns to me. "Oh, I'll bet you don't even know what's going on. I told most of the others but I meant to keep it a surprise for you. Not this long though. Oh well, just watch, you'll see . .

The ten of them line up in a row. They clasp hands, bow toward us. Then turn and bow to the guests on the opposite side of the room. They are all quite nice looking. Two of the men have longish hair and beards. There is a scattering of applause when they bow.

It begins slowly. It is obviously some kind of show but none of them say anything. They only hum along with the music. Their eyes seem to shine. Nine of them form a circle around one of the women, a very pretty girl with white-blond hair.

One of the men steps up next to her, begins undressing her. In a minute she is naked. The others in the circle stand aside so that the audience can see. The man feels her breasts, strokes her pussy, eases her down onto the carpet. She unzips his pants and draws out his cock. She pulls it up to her cunt. He climbs over her, begins to fuck her.

One of the other women, a brunette, kneels down next to the man and slowly takes off his clothes while he screws the girl with the white-blond hair. She rubs his bare ass with her hands and fingers, then reaches between his legs and plays with his balls. He pushes his prick harder and deeper into the blond. A second man kneels next to the face of the girl who is being fucked. Together they get out his prick. She props herself up on an elbow and sucks it deep into her mouth. He fondles her breasts. The first man keeps fucking her. The brunette keeps rubbing his balls and the base of his cock. The others in the group gather closer and begin stripping off the rest of the clothes of the four on the floor. They do this in time with the music, as if they have rehearsed it. Except for an occasional cough, the room is quiet as everyone watches.

I stare at the four naked bodies on the floor eating and fucking each other. They do it all very slowly, tantalizingly. My panties begin to get wet and sticky. The music slows, stops. The men and women on the floor and in the circle stop moving, remain as they are, frozen like statues. I watch. I wait.

I hear Lorraine's throaty laugh. "Now comes the part I like," she says. She nudges me with her elbow. I hear the music start in again. The two men and two, women who have been fucking and eating each other disengage and stand up. The six who are still dressed begin rubbing the cocks and cunts of those who are naked. Nobody seems to be with anybody in particular.

The tempo of the music picks up. Suddenly the four who are naked start stripping off the clothes of the rest of them. They do it very rapidly, tossing the pastel dresses and dark suits into a pile on the floor. The ten of them stop for a moment, turn to face us and bow slightly, then as the music picks up even faster they all begin to kiss and fondle and eat and screw each other. Urgently. Furiously.

They do it standing up at first, then get down on the carpet. All ten of them. They lunge and buck and thrust themselves against each other; their naked bodies now glistening with sweat. They fuck in time with the music. They eat each other in time with the music. A young girl with long brown hair sucks the cock of a handsomely muscled man while another girl feels his balls. A second man rams his prick into her from behind. The group of them are all in a tangle. I have never seen so much naked flesh.

The cock of one of the men is immense. I stare at it. Mentally I measure it. It is enormously thick, heavy looking, with a gigantic bulging head. It looks to be almost a foot long. I persuade myself that it must. be some kind of fake, a dildo, but then the man turns slightly and I can see the flesh gleaming in the light.

Two of the women kneel down and both begin kissing the huge cock. They lick it. They take turns sucking it. The man lies back on the carpet, his feet pointing toward me, his prick jutting up immense and thick. The girl with the white-blond hair steps over him, straddles him, lowers herself slowly down onto him. One of the other women guides the head of his prick into the blond's small pink slit. The blond pushes down. I see her cunt lips spread as the huge cock pokes in. She impales herself on it. I am sure that the giant prick must be splitting her, tearing her tender skin.

But she rides the heavy thickness eagerly, expertly, takes in even the big wide swollen base. The other eight stop what they're doing, sit up, watch. They start to clap in rhythm with her downward thrusts. Everyone in the audience begins clapping too. The music plays. I have forgotten about Rae. I watch. I am almost repelled by the sight of the monster cock driving in and out of the tight pink cunt but at the same time it fascinates me and I feel myself cuming from just looking at it.

Lorraine nudges me again. "It's something, isn't it?" she says. "Sometimes they go on like this for hours."

"You've had them here before ...?"

"No ... not here, but I've seen them at their place on Dauphine Street. They put on a show almost every night. I've been a few times and thought it'd be a kick to have them do it up right here in my place. It is, isn't it? Wild, I mean. It kind of goes with the room I think. It's. costing enough but it's worth it." She pauses and turns again to look at the others. I look too and see that the platinum blond is still spearing herself with the glistening wet thickness of the elephant cock.

"It wasn't always a show," Lorraine goes on. "They just started as a bunch who used to get together for orgies. Then one night there was a pusher hanging around with some stuff but none of them had any money to buy. I guess one of the girls who knew that the pusher had a sex problem had the idea of letting him in to watch them go at it in exchange for some grass. Pretty soon they started selling tickets at five dollars apiece and it got to be a regular thing. And when the word got around, the price went up.

"That's what I call enjoying your work," she continues. "None of them need other jobs. Every time I see them, they've got someone new. I guess that one by one they just get worn out. I hear that sometimes they fake it. You can't really go through a thing like that every night. But I told them no faking here, that the kind of people I was having over would catch on in a minute. They aren't, are they? Faking it, I mean. I guess they really dig each other though. They all live together, take baths together. God, it's all right to eat and fuck each other like that especially for the money. But that washing and eating together stuff in between, I don't know ..."

I stare out at the sweaty naked bodies on the floor. The girl with the white-blond hair keeps riding the elephant cock. The others. dance naked about them. Beyond, I see the door to the apartment open. Rae. My heart skips as I watch her come in. She is alone. She has on a clinging dark blue dress. She wears a small fur piece around her neck. She moves with poise across the room, her auburn hair bouncing lightly on her shoulders. She only glances at the tangle of flesh in the center of the room. She comes toward me.

Lorraine and I make room on the couch and Rae sits down between us. She smiles at me warmly, then turns to look at the couples on the carpet. She watches them without surprise or apparent emotion. She crosses her legs. They are long, slender. Her near ness intoxicates me. I detect the fragrance of her perfume.

I look back at the others. The man with the giant prick has stopped screwing the platinum blond and is standing up now. One of the other women is kneeling in front of him gobbling his cock. She tries hard but has trouble getting much of it into her mouth. The blond kneels down now next to the other woman and begins pressing kisses all along the milky whiteness of her thighs. I feel something touching my own thigh. Rae's hand. I feel the sparks shoot through me. She is very cool about it. Casual. I am tight, tense. But I pretend not to notice. I just keep looking down at the others on the floor.

Rae's hand moves over my skirt closer to my pussy. She caresses my thighs again. I wish I didn't have a skirt on. Or panties. I want to feel the touch of her fingers on my bare skin.

"... you enjoying the show?" she asks.

"I guess so ... do you?"

"It's all right. I prefer to do things myself though."

"I do too."

We keep looking at the others. I spread my thighs some and Rae's hand moves smoothly beneath my skirt. Her hand reaches my panties. She has no trouble slipping two of her fingers under the hem to the hungry wetness of my pussy. I peak at her touch. I hold back a cry. I see now that all but two of the performers have formed a chain on the floor, each eating the sex of one of the others. Men eating women. Women eating. women. Women eating men. Some of Lorraine's guests have started making it with each other too. I feel Rae's slender fingers stroke the folds of my cunt. My pussy burns, itches. Aches beautifully. She presses her lips to my cheek. I feel her breath warm against my skin.

"Why don't you do me too?" she whispers. "Want to ...?"


"Yes."

She uncrosses her legs. I slide my hand up under her skirt, find the creamy wetness of her pussy. I stroke the soft liquid folds. We kiss with open mouths, suck each other's tongues. I am burning up with the need for more of her.

"See them?" Rae says, nodding at a couple screwing on the carpet just beyond the cluster of naked bodies in the center of the room. She laughs quietly. "You'd never guess it, but they're married. I guess they really go for this sort of thing. That couple is having a time of it too," she says "... over there. I really don't care to see that. But it's different for us though, isn't it?"

"Yes oh yes ... keep rubbing me"

"Shall we get down on the carpet too?"

"Really ... do you want to ...?"

"Everyone will be pretty soon. Nobody will notice us. We could do more to each • other that way ... different things."

"Yes. I don't want to get mixed in with them in that circle though"

"No, just the two of us," she says.

"Are we going to get undressed?"

"We can do that gradually"

“Yes ..."

In moments we are down on the floor and my panties are off and Rae is eating my cunt. I can hear the sounds of the music and of everyone fucking and eating each other. I thrill to Rae's touch as she strokes my breasts. She unsnaps my bra. She doesn't stop tonguing my pussy. I eat her too.

We rest our heads against each other's thighs. My eyes are almost shut but I can see the shining naked bodies of the ten still pumping against each other in the center of the room. I see the elephant prick pushing in and out of the swollen pink slit of the girl with the white-blond hair.

"Mmmm it's so nice with you," Rae murmurs. She chews at my thigh.

"... with you too," I say. I close my eyes all the way and enjoy the touch of her body on mine. I imagine how it would feel to have the giant cock pushing inside of me. I wish I could hold the grapefruit balls in my hands. I smell Rae's perfume. I think of the sweaty smell of a man.



Chapter 13

I walk up and down Bourbon Street. Aimlessly. Not knowing where to go. I am tired of it with Jacques. I won't go back to Armand's. The walls of the room press in on me there. I am sick of the smell of wine. It is not enough with any of them. I need something more. More than Rae too. I wish that I could fly away from it all. But I cannot. I am a small bird only. Caged in. Without wings. It all oppresses me. I seek the cool breeze, the sun, a strange new touch ...

I stop in a small restaurant. for coffee, drink it rapidly, leave. I start toward Canal Street but it is a long way and my feet ache. I stand on a corner for awhile. The laughing and talking crowds hurt my ears. Convertibles zoom by, tops down, girls' hair flowing back in the wind. Trucks rumble. I walk on past the seafood place. It is almost empty inside. My throbbing feet seem to sink deeper into the concrete sidewalk with each step.

Dauphine Street. Yes, that's it. I remember her telling me. It must be only a few blocks down. I don't know the number. There must be some kind of sign. I should see one of them. There were enough of them. Ten ... I'll find the place. Introduce myself. I'm Carrie. I like to be fucked. No, it doesn't matter by whom. Anyone with a prick will do.

This must be it. The poster on the window. The same dresses, suits. I recognize some of their faces. But this can't be it, there's a barber shop here. Oh I see, it's upstairs. There's the stairway. I don't know if I have the nerve just to go up. Maybe I should wait here until I see one of them coming. Say hello. Say that I was at Lorraine's and how much I enjoyed the show. Yes, that's it. I'll just walk back and forth. Not act nervous. It might take a long time but that doesn't make any difference. I don't have any place else to go.

"Waiting for somebody?"

"No, not really," I say. I smile. I recognize him as one of them. He is carrying two bags of groceries.

"Why don't you come up for some coffee?"

"All right ..." He must remember me too. Could he figure it out that easily why I'm here? He's really very nice.

We climb the stairs and go in. There isn't much furniture and not any rug. Part of the floor is raised, something like a stage. I see a spotlight and a box of colored slides on a table. The black suits and pastel dresses are hung carelessly on a wardrobe at the back of the stage. There are a few chairs and several large foam rubber pads. The walls of the room are plain, a drab yellow. In one corner is a kitchen. The man sets the groceries on a table near the sink, then starts to make coffee in a blackened pot. The gas stove lights with a bang when he puts a match to it.

"Where are the others?" I ask.

"... sleeping," he says. "Most everyone likes to sleep before we start. Today especially. We had some convention people last night and everything ran late."

We drink coffee and talk. Without saying anything really about why I am here. But I know that tonight I will be with them. The others gradually come out of the bedrooms. The brunette. The girl with the white-blond hair. The man with the monster cock. The introductions are casual but everyone is friendly. I talk back and forth with them. I hear one of the women complaining in a low voice that now with me here there will be too many women. I feel like an outsider for a minute but the others hush her up.

Everyone eats. They don't eat from the same bowl of course but it bothers me that the dishes look grimy and unclean. They eat cold meat sandwiches and potato chips: Somebody fries a few hamburgers. Everyone walks around while they're eating. I'm not hungry at all and don't have anything but the coffee.

The woman who'd been complaining about me starts an argument about something she sees in the newspaper. The corners of the paper are stuck together with jelly and dried milk. ."It's really awful," she says, "that doctor going to prison just for performing that abortion."

"But the girl died," one of the men says.

"Read the rest of the article," says the girl with the white-blond hair. "... he didn't even use sterile methods."

"How can he help that when it's against the law? If they made it legal, he could have done it in a hospital and wouldn't have had to worry, about that, right?"


"Still he should have been sanitary."

"It should be legal, that's what's the matter is."

"Ten years isn't enough for the bastard. Shit, if I'd have been on the jury I'd have had him hung."

"The judge decides that ..."

"Why are you, all so much against abortion?" the first woman says angrily.

"We're not against it for crissake, but the man's a quack, a murderer!"

"Don't be silly, someday they'll be putting up memorials to men like that ... pioneers or something."

"Shit!"

"He should be sticking pigs in a packing house."

"It's not his fault. It's all those congressmen flying off to Europe and places like that instead of staying home and passing laws we need."

"We've got enough goddamn laws."

"See what I said, you're, against it ... abortion. You're as responsible for that girl's death as that doctor."

"Shit ... Jesus. Is there any more coffee?"

"Just grounds. I'll put in some more water and heat it up."

"Let's talk about something else. Liz is always bringing it up about this abortion shit."

"Why don't we have the contest. Everybody guess how many got killed in the war this week."

"I already know. The report is on page three. Right under the picture of the flag."

"You're out of it then. You be the judge. Here's the paper."

"I don't need it. I remember the number for chrissake."

"Murderers! You're all really just a bunch of murderers."

"Murderers? Who says we're for the war? We're all against it. Everyone knows that."

"I'm not talking about that. I mean abortion. None of you want to legalize it and stop all these killings."

"Oh Christ, come off it ... come off it will you!"

"Listen ..." says one of the women who hasn't spoken before. "I'll tell you all one thing. I don't want anyone shoving his prick in my asshole tonight. I've been on that ride three nights in a row. I'm so sore, I can hardly sit."

"Or shit ..."

"I'm serious."

"I don't know ... we'll probably have some of them asking for their money back then. We've been telling everyone it's part of the show."

"Right, you've got to give them something wild ... not just commonplace stuff."

"But. why does it always have to be me lately? I just can't take anymore of it."

"Try some Vaseline."

"I do. I fill myself full of the stuff."

"... what about Surfacaine?"

"Are you crazy? That burns too much. It'd just eat away my skin. What about you doing that part, Cheryl? Or the new girl?" '

"Not me," Cheryl says. "I had that all last week. With Rex one time too. And you know what it's like with him."

Everyone turns to me.

I feel flustered, stare straight ahead.

Frank the one who brought me upstairs comes to my rescue. "That wouldn't be fair," he says. "Not, on her first night."

Some of the others nod agreement.

Liz complains.

One of the men grunts. "Hell Liz, you didn't even go on with us the first night you were here. You just sat in the corner and watched."

"I came in on it at the end."

"Yeah, shit ... when half the audience was on the floor too."

"Let's not argue about it for crissake. Why not just skip that part tonight. It's just a Tuesday. Mostly regulars will be here. They won't mind."

"That's right. Holly can give them something a little extra with a blow job on Rex. They all go for that."

At about seven everybody starts to get ready. Very matter-of-factly. A few of them tidy up, stack the dirty dishes in the sink. I help Liz and some of the men with the stage. I sweep the floor. She does something with the lights. We move the foam rubber pads forward, getting them in line with the lights. Some of the others get their costumes and go back to the bedroom to change.

"Would you like to sell the tickets?" Frank asks. "It's easy. They just come in a few at a time:"

"All right," I say.

Frank gets a small green metal box off a shelf in the closet. The tickets are in it and some loose change. "You just sit by the door and they pay as they come in," Frank says. "It's six bucks ahead, nine a couple. If you spot any lesbos, let them in as a couple. They're good about passing the word about the show. For tourists, you try to get more if they look uneasy or embarrassed. Once I got a twenty from a fat old fart and some doll he had with him. If we're lucky we'll have sixty or so tonight. That'd be about tops for a Tuesday ... you have any questions?"

"No, I think I understand:"

"They'll bring in the tickets and give them tome. After we get started we don't let anyone else in. I'll go down and bolt the door. Don't worry about the pigs or anything. I can spot them. If any show, we'll just cut off and give everyone their money back. Say, you can help yourself to a dress off the rack. There should be one there that fits you. Better do it now. Everything will be starting pretty soon."

I thank him and pick out one of the dresses. It is a size too small but the best there is. I take it back to one of the bedrooms. I hesitate at the open door. There is a man in the room starting to change. The one with the huge cock.

He chuckles. "Come on in," he says. "I'm Rex. You're not going to be shy about just getting dressed, are you?"

"No ..." I go in and cross the room. It is a big barn like room with two seedy looking beds and an old dresser.

I turn my back to Rex and undress quickly. I laugh at myself. It is silly to let this part of it bother me. I pull the dress over my head. In the mirror I see Rex pulling on his black pants. He isn't wearing shorts. His prick juts out, enormous, swollen, thick ... I wonder if he's stiff like that because he's been looking at me. It makes me quiver to think about it. I catch his eye in the mirror. I turn away, feel myself blush a little.

"Have you done this sort of thing before?" he asks.

"Not exactly ... no. I don't suppose many people have." I turn to him again. I see him tuck his cock inside his pants. "Does it ever bother you?" I ask.

"The show ...? Hell no. We used to do it just for kicks. Now we make a buck. Don't worry about it, you'll do fine. After a few nights, you won't even give it a second thought. Are you ready ... shall we go?"



Chapter 14

I sit at a table selling tickets. I have taken three puffs of a strong joint. The others are still passing it about. Not many customers come at first, then suddenly it turns to a flood and I can barely keep ahead of it. Most of the customers look eager, taking sidelong glances at the stage even as they buy their tickets. I feel superior to them. They are the outsiders now. I am in on it. The stack of green bills mounts up. Frank comes by and collects the money. "I don't like to leave too much of it out here," he says. The money begins to pile up again. I enjoy selling the tickets. '

The line of customers thins to a trickle. Frank comes by- and goes downstairs to bolt the outside door. Then he locks the door to the apartment. "That's it," he says. "No more. You'd better get over on the stage with the others."

I walk over slowly and take a place at the end of the line. The spotlight comes on. White. Bright. For a minute it nearly blinds me. Frank steps up in front of the crowd. He makes a brief announcement. But I don't hear what he says. I am trying to remember the instructions he gave me earlier. The music starts in ...

At first I just stand there as some of the others begin to feel and eat each other and fuck. Then one of the girls signals that it is time for me to take off my dress. I slip it over my head and toss it into the pile of clothes on the floor. I stand there naked watching four of the others screw. I feel suddenly embarrassed. This is different than fucking Armand with Hal and Lorraine watching. Or than lying on the floor with Rae while everyone else around eats or fucks each other too. I am on a stage now. With a spotlight shining on me. Naked in front of sixty pairs of staring eyes. I almost wish I was supposed to be fucking somebody. I would be able to concentrate on that then. Not just stand here awkwardly with nothing to do.

The spotlight softens. I feel a nudge at my elbow and realize it is my turn to suck Frank's cock while he eats one of the other girls' pussy. I hesitate. I glance at the rest of them standing naked about me. They are all watching to see if I will go through with it. I feel my face break into a smile. They don't have to worry about me.

I kneel down next to Frank. His prick is resting half-hard on his thigh. I take it into my hands and stroke it, then bend forward and take the moist head into my mouth. My buttocks are pointing toward the audience.

I feel his cock harden as I suck it. I rub his balls. In my mind I try to associate the prick I am sucking with the man who explained to me how to sell the tickets. But I can't. The cock in my mouth could belong to any man. We haven't worked up to this. I am just suddenly on the floor with him and it is my job to suck his cock. But still it is a prick in my mouth and as I keep at it the sex feeling begins to stir in my belly and it doesn't matter who's cock I am sucking. It is a cock, that is enough.

I eat him. I hear the loud music. I am aware of the eyes of everybody in the audience and on the stage watching me. My cunt aches. I enjoy eating him. I can tell from the rigid tension in his cock that he likes it too.

This spurs me on. I begin to suck harder. Faster. I get the urge to make him cum in my mouth. The tempo of the music picks up. I take in his prick even deeper. I hear slapping in time with the music. In time with the movement of my mouth. The clapping doesn't bother me. It excites me. I wait for the feeling of his cum bursting into my mouth.

There is a sudden warm pressure against my buttocks. A cock, rubbing against them, moving slowly deliciously between them. It tantalizes me, brushes my pussy lips. But it doesn't push into me.

I reach back between my legs and grip it, put my hand all the way around' it. It is enormous ... huge ... the giant cock ... unbelievably long and thick. I thrill to the touch of it. I guide the big swollen tip to my cunt. I don't stop sucking Frank. I spread my legs to try to help the elephant prick go in. I get in an inch. The head of it and some of the shaft fills me. But the rest won't fit in. I strain back hard against it. The colors of the spotlight keep changing. The big cock seems as if it is glued to the walls of my cunt. Rex keeps driving it in. I hear him groaning. I feel my cunt stretch. I hurt. Everything seems to be spinning, the colors of the lights all turning to black. Then suddenly the rest of the big prick rams into me. It hurts wonderfully. I cum as the bulging head goes deeper in my cunt than any ever has before. It is a new feeling.

He fucks me. I time my strokes with his. I slide Frank's prick in and out of my mouth in rhythm with the strokes of the elephant cock in my pussy. I 'cum and keep cuming. I love to eat cock. I love to be fucked by cock. I love the feeling of a prick inside me.

But the elephant prick is out of me and I am left stranded. The show goes on. I hear the music. The sound of the audience's staccato clap. I am kneeling forward with my, buttocks still up in the air. The moment for me is over. I sit up and turn to face the others. Rex is screwing someone else now. Frank has pulled his cock out of my mouth. Some of the other women are making it with each other, kissing, feeling, eating. I don't want to be in on that but I don't want to be left out of it. I crawl over to them, slide up on my belly next to, them. I cup one of Holly's big breasts in my hand. I rub the tight hard nipple with the tip of my thumb. I take it into my mouth, suck it, mash my face in against her smooth white flesh. I feel a hand on my cunt, I don't know whose. A finger dips in deep into me. I think it is a woman's but I'm not sure. I press my cunt hard against the finger, trying to get it farther in. There are other hands on my breasts now, rubbing them squeezing them kneading them. I feel a mouth at my nipple. I can tell by the scratch of whiskers that it is a man. I grab his cock and begin to pump it. But I don't want to jerk him off, I want someone to cum in my cunt. I feel the finger stroking my pussy. Two fingers. I know it is a woman now by' the long curved nails. The nails are sharp but I like the way .they claw lightly at my flesh. I feel other hands all over me. I am not an outsider now. I am in on it with them. I am one of them.

I draw the cock I have been pumping into my mouth and suck it. I can see that it is Liz eating my cunt. She takes my pussy lips into her mouth and sucks them. She tongues me. I feel a finger rubbing slowly in the crevice of my buttocks. I feel it on the pouting raw wetness of my ass. I feel it push in. Almost an inch. I feel the skin of my ass close tight around it, grip it. It hurts. but I like it. I keep sucking the same prick and playing with the balls that go with it. I feel the pressure of Liz's tongue inside my pussy. The finger in my ass moves very slowly deeper in. Everyone on the stage is in a tangle and I am in the center of it. My ass hurts agonizingly for a moment as the finger pulls out. Strong hands separate my buttocks. I feel the firm big head of a prick push up against the raw softness. I reach back. It is the elephant prick again. I feel it probe at my ass. I can't believe that it will fit inside me there. I know it will hurt. But I want to feel the hurt of it ... the monster cock tearing at my skin.

I feel someone rubbing something oily on my ass. Vaseline probably. Then the hand is gone and I feel the giant prick start to push in. It feels like a baseball bat spreading me apart. I've never been screwed in the ass except by Hal and his cock was a pencil compared to this. I hear Rex puff and groan as he tries to stuff his big prick in. He only gets the head and a little more of it into my ass when he starts pumping in and out, driving hard against my tender skin. It hurts. It tears. It rips me apart. I thrill to the pain of it. I suck someone's cock. I rub my hands through Liz's hair as she keeps eating my pussy. Then I see Frank next to her kissing, fondling her breasts: His hand replaces her mouth on my cunt. Then his cock replaces his hand. He slips his prick easily into my pussy.

The elephant cock keeps driving into me from behind. I take the prick I am sucking deeper into my mouth. I have three cocks inside me now at once. I am filled with cock. I cum constantly. The pricks ram into me. My mouth, my cunt, my ass. Hands are all over me. Men's hands. Women's bands. I feel as if all ten of them are screwing me, eating me. I am a cunt, my whole body is a cunt and they are fucking it. I am a piece of meat being pounded into softness. I am hot raw flesh. My cunt is wet. My ass throbs. I am hot; I am burning up.

I wake. My eyes slip open. The light is dim. I am on a bed. There is someone stretched out sleeping next to me. A man. Across the room is another bed. Three people in that one. The room is quiet.

I can't orient myself at first. I strain to remember. Some of it comes back. The clapping of sixty pairs of hands. The blackness settling in. I am trembling. I get quickly out of bed and go out into the living room. I light a cigarette and suck the smoke in deep as I look at the dark deserted stage. I see the costumes all piled on the floor. The spotlight. The record player. The foam rubber pads. It all looks monstrous, twisted in the faint dawn light.

I stand there naked. My legs are numb. I am thirsty and go to the kitchen sink to get a drink. I turn on the faucet and look for a clean glass. But I can't find one. Dirty, food covered dishes are heaped in the sink. I smell garbage, spoiling meat. Cockroaches scurry at the movement of my hand.

I turn away without getting a drink and start across the room. I step on something soft and it sticks to my foot. I try to scrape it off on the rung of a chair but I can't. I stare at the pile of dresses and trousers on the stage. I can still smell the decaying meat. It sickens me, nauseates me. I stumble into the bathroom and vomit into the bowl. Again and again. My head pounds. My whole insides feel as if they are coming up. I try to keep from retching again but I can't. I spill out my stomach. I keep vomiting even when I have nothing left. I stand there bent over the bowl, waiting for the sick feeling to go away.

When I know I won't throw up again I rinse out my mouth and spit the water into the sink. I know I must get away from here. Now. Right away. Before the sick feeling comes back. I breathe through my nose to keep out the smell of it as I hurry back to the bedroom and dress. Then I go quickly out and down the steps, not glancing at the stage as I go by. A sharp gust of wind slaps my face as I step out onto the dark deserted street.



Chapter 15

I check into Le Petit Hotel on Chartres Street. I am exhausted and need the feeling of fresh cool sheets against my skin. I undress and splash my face with warm water. I pull the drapes against the grey dawn light. I sleep a long dreamless sleep.

Sometime in the twilight before fully waking, I decide. I don't remember exactly when. I only know that when I sit up in bed I am calm, knowing what I'm going to do. My body is clammy and cold, as the feeling of the house on Dauphine Street still oozes out of me. But my mind is clear. I get up, move about the room with purpose. I take a hot bath. I study my face in the mirror.

The train pulls north from New Orleans. I sit up straight in the red velvet seat. The seat next to mine is empty except for my small suitcase. There aren't many passengers in my car. The trip along the river seems to take forever. I try to read but can't keep my mind on it. My body is trembling. I watch the river out the window. I see river birds swooping low over the water.

"Cairo ...." I jump at the sound of the conductor's voice. I rub away the moistness from a spot on the window. The train pulls into the station. Slows. Comes to a stop in the midst of noise and traffic.

I change to the bus. It rolls out of Cairo north across the flat land of Illinois. My chest starts to tighten as we near Orchard Center. I think of just taking the next bus back. Too much time has passed. a dozen years. I will feel awkward. I won't know what to say. My head pounds.

I find out where he works from a directory at the bus station. I think of phoning, then decide to take a cab directly there instead.

I sit stiffly in a paneled thickly carpeted office while his secretary talks to him on the phone. The sign on his door says: Keith Brady, Vice President. The sign is gold. I can hear the whirr of an air conditioner.

"Mr. Brady will see you right away," the secretary says, surprise in he voice.

"Thank you." I get up and walk to the paneled door. I turn the big brass knob and enter.

Keith is already rising from behind a long desk at the opposite side of the room. "Carrie .... I just couldn't believe it when she gave me your name."

"Hello," I say. The first thing I notice about him is the trace of grey in his temples. He is smiling but looks puzzled.

We step toward each other, stop when we are a few feet apart. Neither of us speak for a moment. I am very nervous but trying hard not to show it. "I was in Cairo," I say. "... decided to take the bus up and say hello." I force a laugh. "I see you're the vice president here or something."

He smiles again. "It doesn't mean that much. There are four of us."

"...oh."

He offers me a chair and I sit down. The chair is comfortable, leather-covered. Keith sits down in a chair across, from me. He leans forward to light my cigarette but doesn't smoke one himself. "... quit," he says. He fidgets with his hands. "I wish though now I hadn't."

I laugh. His comment, his slight nervousness relaxes me. Then as I think more about it I feel sparks shoot through me. I begin to talk rapidly, complimenting him on his office, the furniture, the thickness of the carpet. "I'm kind of surprised though to find you working in a place like this ... a business ... a factory, you know. I always imagined you someplace more out in the open ... a farm ... something like that."

The muscles of his face tighten. He freezes up. "Things change," he says. His voice is cool. He gets up and walks across the room, turns his back on me. He stares at the paneled wall.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean it to sound critical. I think it's fine, your being a vice president and all."

"All of it changes ... everything," he goes on as if he hasn't even heard. "You get into it in a way you hadn't planned 'and you get pushed on and on." He turns to face me again. His mouth is drawn tight. I feel everything crashing down before it has even really started. He leans on a table, his hands pressing down. Pale, almost yellowish hands. Hands I do not know.

I see an elaborate pen and pencil set on the table with an inscription that I can't make out. Next to it is a colored photo of a woman and two children. The woman is very attractive. She stares out at me, chills me.

"My family," he says. "You knew of course, didn't you?"

"Not really. But I suppose I might have guessed it.

It would have been even more surprising to find out you'd never ... you know ..."

"You're not married?" he says.

"Yes ... in a way. But I have no family. I don't live with him."

"I'm sorry ..."

"Don't be. It wasn't a good match from the start."

He doesn't say anything back. He turns away again. He rubs his chin. He looks very tired.

I feel suddenly as if there is a great distance between us. As if I am not in the same room with him at all. The woman in the picture glares out at me. I begin to feel foolish standing here. An outsider. Alone. Out of my place and time. It has all been a mistake coming here. I no longer know him. There is nothing for me to do now except to say good bye and leave.

He whirls toward me suddenly. The expression on his face has changed. His eyes burn into mine. He looks vital, intense. The lines around his eyes seem to melt away as he steps toward me. The space between us is charged with electricity. He reaches out for my hand. Our fingers intertwine. His hand is cool. He pulls me to my feet. "Carrie ..."

I touch the light growth of beard on his cheek. Our arms go around each other.. He crushes his body against mine, kisses me. The years retreat again. I am in a barn in the loft. The glass in the window is broken out. I feel Keith's hands on my breasts. My nipples come alive. He finds the tip of one of them ... presses his thumb in firm against it. His other hand moves down over my waist and buttocks to the back of my thighs. I feel the fullness of his cock pushing against my skirt. I arch my back and thrust myself up against him.

His hand moves over my hips, seeks my pussy. He strokes me there on the outside of my skirt. I rub his big cock through his trousers. I feel the beautiful explosion building inside of me. It is no ordinary excitement. It is the feeling of a dozen years waiting. It is exquisite, engulfs me. Keith has my skirt up over my stomach now. His prick pushes hard against my panties. I hunger for the touch of his bade skin on mine.

"We can't here ..." he says.

"Shall we go then?"

"Yes ... where?"

"It doesn't make any difference, does it?"

"No. Anywhere."

We leave my suitcase in the waiting room and go out the back door. Keith says he'll get it for me later. His car is large, dark blue, with heavy black upholstery. He drives through the narrow gate between the stretches of fence, then turns up the highway. In minutes his office is far behind. We speed through the countryside. He turns off onto a narrow country road, slows the car until we are barely moving.

He smiles over at me. "Aren't you going to come closer?"

I laugh a little. "Sure ... I was just waiting for you to ask." I slide over next to him, put my arm around his shoulder. I stroke the soft growth of hair on the back of his neck. I kiss his cheek. He puts one of his hands on my thigh. I grasp it and pull it up to my pussy.

He turns off the road and stops the car in an open spot in the middle of a cluster of trees; He kisses me. He puts his hand on my knee beneath my skirt and my thighs separate. My cunt aches for his touch. His fingers reach my panties, slip underneath them. His hands are cool, firm against my smooth skin. I pat the big bulge in his trousers, then unzip him. My hand finds his thick cock. For a moment I can't believe that it is really Keith I am holding again like this. I look down at his prick after I get it out of his pants. It makes me feel hot all over to stroke it and look at it. I want to kiss it.

I slide back slightly on the seat and bend forward, pressing my lips down against his cockhead. I mouth him gently. I tongue him. I suck his cock deep into my mouth. He keeps caressing my pussy, separating my thickening wet sex lips with his fingers. I eat him. I love the good taste of him in my mouth. I gorge myself with him.

His body suddenly tenses. His hips jerk as he tries to hold on. I slide his cock quickly out of my mouth and sit up. I kiss him. His lips are cool, parted. We hold the kiss for a moment, then sit back.

Keith laughs quietly. "I thought for a minute you were going to finish me ..." He strokes my pussy.

"That's why I stopped. I didn't want it to end from that."

"Let's go for a walk ... stretch our legs a bit."

"All right ... I wish you didn't have to take your hand away from me though."

"I won't. I'll keep my arm around you like this ... okay?"

"Yes."

We stand in a spot of sun on a small rise about twenty feet from the car. The grass is thick. The area around us is in deep shade from the oaks.

Keith kisses me. His tongue presses wet against mine. He steps back, unbuttons my suit coat, then my blouse. He unhooks my bra. His cool hands cup my breasts.

"I thought we were going for a walk," I laugh.

"No hurry about that, is there?"

"No, I like it here. The sun feels nice ... and your hands."

"Look at that squirrel up there staring down at us."

I glance up. A red squirrel is gripping the trunk of an oak upside down ten feet above us. He stares down with beady eyes. "He thinks we're invading his territory," I say. "... mmm I like your hands on me there. It excites me, makes me shiver so."

His fingertips play across my rigid nipples. "I want to see you too, Carrie," he says. "... to look at you while I hold you. It's been so long."

"Yes ..."

We peel off my suit jacket and blouse and hang them over a low branch of the oak. He takes off my bra. I stand in front of him naked from the waist up. He looks at me, touches the points of my breasts. His eyes drink me in. "You're beautiful, Carrie ... as beautiful as ever." He bends down, kisses my breasts. My body sings out. I hold the back of his head while he sucks my nipples. For a moment it seems as if he is a little boy feasting on me. I ache deep as the feelings of the lost years flow through me.

Keith lifts my skirt and rubs the naked wetness of my pussy. I unbutton his shirt, yank it out of his trousers and pull it almost up to his armpits. I press my breasts in against the bare skin and muscle of his chest. I unzip his pants and get out his cock again. I pull it against my thighs, tug down on my panties. The tip of his prick pushes against my cunt lips. I am eager for all of him now and I want him to fuck me. I kiss him, cling to him. The fire inside me leaps into flame. The stabbing aching hunger burns all through me.

He pushes his cock up into my pussy. We fuck standing up. His prick is hard steel. My cunt envelops it, grips it. He backs me up against the same tree where a few minutes before we saw the squirrel. I feel the rough bark against my back as he fucks me. I love the roughness, the hardness pushing at me from two directions. He lifts me up as he screws me until my feet are entirely off the ground. I hang there pinned against the bark by his prick. We cum ...

We straighten our clothes. I get my bra and blouse from the tree branch and put them back on. I glance up and see the squirrel. "Look, our friend is still here," I say. Keith laughs. We walk slowly back to the car, our arms around each other.

We drive through the countryside along the back roads. I sit up close to Keith, my arm on his shoulder. I caress the hard curve of his jaw with my fingers.

We pass by a farm. "Recognize that ...?" Keith asks.

I look closer. A strange bittersweet sensation comes over me. "Yes ..." I say. "It looks almost the same, doesn't it? Shall we stop?"

Keith shakes his head. "Someone lives there now." "... oh"

I see the name on the mailbox as we go by Schmidt. Or Schmitz. Something like that. There is a girl swinging on an old tire near the house. She looks about eighteen. She gazes at us as we go by The barn looks as if it has been freshly painted. I turn away, then glance back as we go over the next hill but the barn and the farmhouse are already gone.

I feel wistful, empty. Keith gets back onto the main highway, drives rapidly. I have no idea where he is going. The sun is low in the sky now and reflects off the metal of the car into our eyes. I lay my head on Keith's shoulder. The images of the barn and the girl swinging keep passing in front of my closed eyes.

We pull up to a large motel near the edge of some town. Keith says he'll get a room for me. "You can sign the register later," he says. "I'll tell the room clerk you're not feeling well right now."

The room is lovely, with two double beds. The drapes and bedspreads are a soft green. I open the drapes a little to let in the rays of the setting sun.

We undress and lie naked on the bed. We kiss and fondle each other. I explore every muscle, every curve of Keith's body. I thrill to the touch of his hands on my skin. The wetness flows thick from my pussy as he strokes me. I pump his prick until it hardens, then rub the big head of it against my thighs. He caresses my breasts, runs his fingertips delightfully over my nipples. I enjoy playing with his prick, fondling it. I feel no need to have him screw me right away again. It is enough now to be just lying here with him. Touching him. I keep rubbing his cock. A drop of clear fluid appears at the tiny opening. With my thumb I spread the drop over the entire tip. Massage it into his skin. His cock stiffens suddenly into full hardness. The head flares out big and reddish. The purple veins swell.

I watch his cock gorge itself with his blood. I cannot resist the urge to eat him again and slide down on the bed and take the full hardness of his prick deep into my mouth.

I get up on my knees, bend over him and suck his prick in deep. It hardens to steel. I feel it throbbing in my mouth. I stop eating him for a minute so that he doesn't cum. I sit back on my legs and light a cigarette and puff it lightly while I run my hand slowly up and down his thighs.

He gets up to get a drink of water. "Want some?" he asks.

"Yes."

He comes back across the room, stands next to the bed, his erect prick in front of my face. I kiss it again, lick the tip.

"You do that marvelously," he says. "Better than I remember from before." He holds the cold glass of water against one of my breasts.

"I'm older now ..."

He laughs. "More experienced?"

"I didn't say that. Just older ... not so shy." I kiss his cock again, lift the weight of his balls in my hands. I take the glass of water and drink from it. It doesn't take away the good taste of him.

He presses forward, pushing his prick against my breasts. He stands there, not moving.

"Aren't we going to do it now again?" I ask.

"So soon?"

"Mmm hmm. You're so nice and stiff." I stroke the length of his cock. I rub the wet cockhead against my nipple. "Or do you want to kiss me down here first ... eat me?"

"Yes."

He kneels down on the carpet in front of me as I lie back and slide my buttocks up to the edge of the mattress. I draw my knees back, dig my heels into the edge of the bed. He presses his lips to the wet puff of hair on my pussy. I feel his tongue slip in against my moist skin. He eats me up and down the length of my cunt. I want him to bite me, devour me.

I feel Keith's tongue in me. I cum.

A few minutes pass. I am awake with excitement again. Keith is lying on the bed next to me. I grasp his cock and pump the stiffness back into it. I want him to fuck me. I pull him over on top of me, spread my legs and wrap my calves around the flat hard cheeks of his ass. I feel his prick plunge in. He fucks me urgently until he brings me to a peak. We rest for a moment, then I get up on my knees and he fucks me from behind. My cunt grips him tightly. When I cum again, he backs off and pulls me from the bed. He screws me standing up with one of my feet on the edge of the bed. After a minute he sits down on the mattress and I climb on top of him. I ride his cock. I like it this way. I can kiss him. He can suck my breasts. His prick penetrates deep into me.

I abandon my body completely to him. We stop screwing, swing around on the bed and eat each other again. His prick is thick and very wet. The juices from my cunt stream into his mouth. He gets up and sits astride my chest and pulls my breasts together with his hands. He drives his prick between them, fucks them. I am dry there at first but my skin moistens quickly and in a moment his prick is sliding smoothly in and out of the cunt he has made with my breasts. He slides up even farther on me and pushes his cock against my jaw, my cheek, my ear. He wraps a curl of my hair around his prick and rubs it against my neck. Then he moves down quickly over me and rams into my cunt again. His thrusts are violent. It is as if he is trying to cram a lifetime of fucking into a few minutes. I hear him cry out suddenly and I know he is about to cum.

I buck up against him. ". . . oh yes ... I love you Keith ... I love you in me ... all of you inside me, oh now now ..."

He explodes. His cum spurts thick and wet into my cunt. "Carrie. Carrie ... Carrie." His voice is urgent, husky ... trails off weak. He flops forward on top of me. I hear him calling out my name. His voice sounds as if it is coming from a long way off.

"Carrie ..."



Chapter 16

"I have to leave now," Keith says. The tone of his voice is abrupt and it rouses me from sleep. Gone completely is the emotion of a few minutes before. He pulls up his pants and zips them. He knots his tie.

"I thought you'd be staying," I say. "We haven't really even talked about things. You can stay for awhile at least, can't you?"

"No ... really. I have to go. I'll have to think up some explanation as it is. We can talk later."

"When?"

"The next time -- you know."

"Tomorrow?"

"Maybe. We'll see. I'll have to bring your suitcase. I'll call you ... okay? After I leave, you can go down and register. Then get yourself some supper in the dining room. Do you have enough money?"

"Certainly," I say.

"You aren't angry, are you?"

"No."

"You act as if something's wrong."

"No ... It's just that you make me feel like a prostitute or something. The way you're leaving in such a rush. The things you say."

His face softens. He comes over to me and runs his hand through my hair. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean anything that way. We can talk about it all later. I'll call tomorrow. It's just that now I have to go. You understand, don't you?"

I nod.

He kisses me, cups my breasts lightly for a moment, then starts for the door. I try to smile.

In a moment he is gone. I hear the sound of the car motor starting. I hold the drape open and watch him drive away. He doesn't look back.

I crawl into bed tired and feeling very much alone. Depressed. I shut my eyes and try to see the vivid colors. I try to bring back the moments under the tree, the moments on this same bed just half an hour ago. But already they seem somewhere in the distant past. Indistinct. Impossible to grasp. ....

I wake early the next morning and take a hot shower. I feel much better in the brightness of the new day. I am hungry from not having eaten supper the night before and have a big breakfast in the dining room, then go to sign the register. I buy cigarettes and a newspaper and go back to the room to wait for Keith's call. The morning sun streaming through the window feels good on my skin. I relax on the bed, feeling warm and happy.

I wait the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. The phone doesn't ring. I smoke a lot.

There is a quiet knock at the door. I am surprised to see Keith standing there when I open it. "I decided to just run out instead of calling," he says. "But I have to leave at four."

I glance at my watch as he hands me my suitcase. "Yes ... that gives us almost two hours." I don't say it sarcastically, just matter-of-factly. As if I am resigned to it. Already it seems that it is nearly time for him to go.

Keith acts very sober. I feel awkward. I want to talk to him about everything but he doesn't give me the chance. He avoids it. Every time I start in on anything about us he changes the subject. We talk about everything. And nothing. He looks at me with affection but says none of the things I am waiting to hear. He acts nervous. The conversation becomes stale, repetitive.

I try to change all that. "We're kind of wasting our time, aren't we," I say laughing. "I mean if you have to go so soon ..." I reach behind my back for the zipper of my blouse, pull down on it.

In moments we are on the bed caressing each other and wrestling playfully. The nervousness goes out of him. The lines leave his face. We strip off each other's clothes and kick them onto the floor. My cunt is wet and his prick slides smoothly in. It is slow, delicious with him. After a few minutes we stop to rest. We stretch our naked bodies out against each other. He strokes my breasts, kisses them. I take his prick and stuff it back into my cunt. His hard smoothness moves rhythmically in and out of me. I posh back against him. It is as if we have been fucking each other for years. I climax just as I feel his cum shoot into me. My body glows as he covers my face, my neck, my breasts with deep long kisses.

"That was nice," I say. ". . . wonderful."

"Yes ..."

I glance at him. His eyes are shut. We rest.

It is Thursday, the sixth day I've been at the motel. Keith is standing at the dresser mixing us drinks. I am on the bed in my bra and panties. He is wearing just his shorts. He's been here about an hour. We've been kissing, petting, talking. Earlier I tried to get him to take me for a ride. "Maybe we could drive by the farm again ... like we did the first day."

"No point in that. Not with other people living there now. Let's just stay here in the roam ... it's pleasant here ... comfortable."

He brings me my drink. I thank him and take a long swallow, letting an ice cube press against my lip. I wish I could get him to talk to me, really talk to me. But when I start saying something about how things were a dozen years ago, he freezes up ... a shadow seems to cross his face. Each day it is more and more this way. He is obviously nervous, upset. If only he could just open himself up to me a little, I would have a chance to bring it all back, to start it over again.

The only time I feel really close to him is when he fucks me. Then, sometimes, for a minute it all seems to come back as I hear him crying out my name. Carrie ... Carrie ... But the moment is lost with the explosion of his cum and then we become strangers once more until the excitement of our naked bodies joining again brings it all back.

"Carrie, I'm sorry, I know we had plans ... but this weekend I have to take my family to our cottage. We have one on Loon Lake. But I'll see you again Monday. It's just that I have to. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes, Keith ... I understand ..."

His face breaks into a smile. "Well good ..." he says. He takes a sip of his drink, sets his glass on the table, moves toward me, kisses me, gropes for my breasts. I take off my bra. He moves his hands eagerly over my breasts and nipples. I can see his prick straining against his shorts. I reach in for him and bring out his cock. I look at it and stroke his penis.

I kiss it. I slide my half-open mouth along the shaft, holding it between my lips. I press my tongue against the hot shaft. I fondle his balls and rub the firm length of his cock. I talk to him with my hands. We fuck ...



Chapter 17

I check out of the motel the next morning. In a few hours I am on the train back to New Orleans. Keith will not even know that I am gone until he calls. I look out the window but I see nothing. I am not conscious of time. I feel only a deep gnawing ache.

The train pulls into the station. I .take a cab to the French Quarter, intending to stay at Le Petit Hotel again. It is long past midnight, but the crowds are still teeming in the streets. Music blares out of the bars and strip joints. Neon flickers blue and purple and white. Car horns honk. It all presses in. "Take me back to Canal Street," I tell the driver. "... to the Hotel Plaza."

My room is large and expensive. Thick carpeting and heavy drapes. It fronts Canal Street, half a dozen stories up. Looking 'out the window, I can see part of the first block of Bourbon Street with the crowds constantly rounding the corner, going to the French Quarter. I watch for awhile, then pull the drapes against it all and order a bottle of whiskey from room service. I feel like getting drunk. Really drunk.

The bellhop is young and gawky and eyes me up and down when he brings the whiskey. I give him a quarter tip and turn away. He takes a long time to get, out the door. I make myself a drink with lots of ice and just enough water to cut the taste. It surprises me how quickly it goes to my head. I take off my dress and lounge in my slip.

I finish the drink and have another. Then another. I put in less water with each drink. I sit there in front of the full-length wall mirror getting drunk and talking to myself. My mirror face talks back. I pull my slip down over my shoulders to look at my breasts and check to see how firm they are. I lift them up, then .push them this way and that. I scrunch them together, then spread them apart. I lift one up and pull down on the other. This looks funny and it makes me laugh.

I make myself another drink. It goes down even faster than the others, I smoke a cigarette. I wish I had some grass. I strip off the rest of my clothes and pad about the room naked. I think of getting dressed and taking a cab to Armand's. I go to the window and look out again. But I don't want to go down into the noise of the crowds, don't want to see everyone's face in the neon lights.

I go back and sit in front of the mirror and make strange shapes out of my breasts again. But it isn't funny this time. My head is spinning. I have been drinking steadily for over an hour now. But the whiskey isn't enough.

On the pretext of being hungry I call down to room service and order a sandwich and french fries. I hope the same bellhop will bring my food up. I pull on a flimsy nightgown while I wait for him and leave it half-open down the front.

He comes with the food. It is the same bellhop, tall and ungainly. "Hungry ...?" I ask as he stands there like a statue waiting for his tip. I swing my ass a little as I say it, making my gown come open even More in front.

"... huh? ... yes, I guess so."

"Eat it then ... the sandwich. I've changed my mind. I don't want it. You can have it. What's the matter, you look surprised? It's good ham, isn't it? I'll make you a drink to go with it if you want. Just with water though, I'm low on ice."

"We're not supposed to drink on duty," the bellhop says. "I don't care about it, but the bell captain does. He might notice it on my breath."

"I'll give you something for your breath when you're finished. Here ... take my drink. I hope it's not too strong. I'll make myself another. Sit down and eat, why don't you? I'll watch you. I'm never very hungry but I like to watch other people eat."

He nibbles at the sandwich. He looks uncomfortable. He keeps glancing at my breasts and pussy through my nightgowns. let the gown come open a little more. He chokes on the sandwich and I think I am going to have to hit him on the back. He keeps eating.

"... know where I can get some grass?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I wouldn't know anything about something like that."

"I thought all you bellhops knew where you could get it."

"I've only been here a few weeks."

"Do you want to screw?"

"... uuhh!" He almost coughs the sandwich out of his mouth. I am laughing inside but don't show it. I enjoy toying with him. I feel very drunk. He sits there staring at my legs as if he is trying to be certain of what I said.

I uncross my legs and spread them so that he can see all the way up. His eyes about pop out. "Do you want to screw I said. ..."

He puts the sandwich down, stands up. He almost knocks over his drink. "Yeah ... sure ..." he says. He reaches out for me hungrily as if I might disappear.

"Hey, not so fast," I laugh. "Sit down. Eat your sandwich first. We don't have to be in such a rush."

He wolfs the sandwich and gulps the rest of the drink. I strip off my gown and go over to him. I kneel down naked next to his chair. I watch him staring at my cunt and breasts. I reach for his zipper.

"Should I get out your prick?" I ask.

He sets down his glass and leans back in the chair. His eyes glaze. His cock presses out against his pants.

I pull down the zipper and take out his prick. It is even bigger than I'd thought. The head is swollen. Already it is sticky. I stroke it. "Mmm, you have a nice one ... so big. Are your balls big like this too? Why don't we take off your pants and see?"

He jumps up, unbuckles his belt. He kicks his pants and shorts off onto the floor.

I am still kneeling. I feel his balls. "Mmm, yes ... they're nice too."

He stands there proudly, drinking up my compliments, enjoying the touch of my soft hands.

"Shall I eat you ... your prick?"

He gasps a little but doesn't say anything. He turns so that his cock is pressed against my cheek. It feels juicy.

I kiss the big head and watch it swell even more. I start to take it between my lips. I hesitate. "You won't cum in my mouth, will you?"

"No ... No ... I wouldn't ... not that." He says it like a promise. He pushes his cock against my lips.

"All right then," I say. I open my lips and bite the head of his prick lightly. I suck his cock all the way into my mouth, slide my lips and teeth back and forth against its thickness. I lick the fat bulging tip.

He sighs and groans and grips my shoulders tight. When I feel the quick shudders beginning in his body, I pull my mouth away.

I get down on the carpet, lie on my back. "Fuck me now," I say. I spread my legs. He kneels over me. He has trouble steering his cock in but I help him and he pushes all the way inside me. He pulls halfway out and drives in again. With his second thrust he draws out too far and I lose him. I reach down to help him find me again. I get the tip of his prick back against my cunt lips. But as he touches my skin, he loses it. I feel his cum spurt out. Not inside me; all over my thighs and the hair around my pussy. He keeps curving and cuming. I have never known a man to spill out so much cream. But none of it does me any good. I haven't even been close to curving. I just lie there on the carpet as he keeps shooting scum on me. I don't even. feel drunk anymore. I just feel naked and soaking wet.

He begins to cover my breasts with kisses. But I don't want any more from him. I push him away. "No ... not now."

He looks hurt. His face falls. He sits back on his haunches, looking puzzled. His cock softens.

I feel sorry for him. "Was it the first time for you?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"... the first time you screwed a woman?"

"No, I've been with lots of women ... well, not like this exactly. Feeling around mostly. But I've been out with hundreds of them."

"I know. I'm sure you have." I reach out and pat his cock, then get up and pull on my gown. "Won't they be wondering about you being gone so long ... the people downstairs?"

"No ... not really. I don't care about that." He comes toward me, his prick starting to harden again.

"I think you should be going anyway. I wouldn't want anyone to think I had a man in my room."

"All right," he says. He backs away reluctantly. "I can stop again tomorrow though?"

"Yes."

He leaves. I am glad to be rid of him. It would probably have been better the second time, but I no longer have any interest in him. I go to the bathroom and wash his cum off my hands and thighs. I take a bath and put on a clean nightgown and get into bed. I try to sleep but can't. I get up and make another drink, but the whiskey tastes bitter and I pour it out in the sink. I go back to bed. I am afraid of dreaming. I don't want to think. I reach under the nightgown and stroke the folds of my pussy, concentrate on that. I try to drift off to sleep as I'm cuming ...

In the morning I have a hangover and feel as if I haven't slept at all. I want to check out of the hotel before the bellhop stops again. As I look through my suitcase trying to find something clean to wear, I think of the scads of dresses and slips and stockings I must have at home, if Graham hasn't thrown them all out. It's been over two months since I've been there. I think of my jewelry and a few things I'd like to have and in minutes I've made up my mind to go back for them.

I call the house to make sure that Graham is at work and not there. The phone rings and rings. No answer. I have breakfast, then check out and call a cab. It takes about twenty minutes to get there. The big stone house looks cold but impressive. As usual, the shrubs have been carefully trimmed and have that smooth rounded look. I unlock the door and go inside.

I spend the next couple of hours gathering up the clothes and jewelry I want and wandering about the house: Graham hasn't touched my things except that the picture of the two of us together has been removed from the dresser. It is still early in the day and I decide to take a bath in the big blue bathtub. It will be hours before Graham comes home.

I find some of my bubble bath in the linen closet and sprinkle it thick into the tub. The water is soothing when I get in and I lie back and let the heat soak in. I look about the elaborate bathroom. I start thinking about how half of the house is mine, about how half of the furniture and everything else is mine. It suddenly seems silly to me to be thinking of getting some lousy job as a waitress or something when half of all this is mine. Bank accounts too. And our stocks. By the time I get out of the tub, I have settled on getting a divorce and asking for half of all of it.

I decide to wait for Graham, confront him about it when he gets home. I pat myself dry with a towel, put on a flaming pink velvet robe one I'd forgotten I owned and take a nap in the cool quiet of the bedroom. My bed is comfortable. I lie there for awhile, feeling very luxurious, thinking about the divorce and the money I will have and making up nasty little speeches to tell Graham.



Chapter 18

At five I hear the car pull up in the driveway and stop. Graham is early. I am stretched out on the big living room sofa in my velvet robe, finishing my fourth martini. I am a bit tight, feel delightful, and am ready to take on Graham. I dangle a silver slipper on my toes.

Our greetings to each other are terse.

"Well, I've been expecting to see you," he says coldly. "Your money must be just about gone ... right?"

"Right."

He goes to the liquor cabinet and gets out some bourbon. "I see you've just about taken care of the gin. So, did you come back to stay awhile or just to see if you could get some money?" He stares down at the drink he is pouring as he talks. Everything about his manner reminds me of all the reasons I left him.

"Money ... just the money," I say.

"Not beating about the bush, huh?" He comes back across the room toward me, his face unpleasant.

"No, Graham. I'll make it very clear ... direct. I want a divorce. And a settlement giving me half of everything. If you won't agree to it I'll file anyway and ask for alimony."

He laughs. "You? You're forgetting that it was you who deserted me. You have no grounds."

I don't answer him at first. I sit up and cross my legs. I drink the last swallow of my drink. I hold out my empty cocktail glass. "Make me another, will you?"

"All right ... that's a small request." He takes my glass and goes back to the liquor cabinet to get some ice.

"Graham, I've seen a lawyer ... a good one," I lie coolly. "The law favors a' woman. I have sufficient grounds. There were a lot of things that happened or didn't happen before I left you. And you make a marvelous salary. I want my share."

He isn't looking at me directly when I mention having seen a lawyer but I see his jaw fall. His face looks pasty, soft like putty for a moment. But he recovers quickly. "Well, you've really looked into things, haven't you?" he says.

"Yes."

He hands me the drink.

"Thank you."
Graham gulps the rest of his drink and makes another. He sits down next to me. He sits hunched over with his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. "You're really serious about it, aren't you?"

"Yes."

He clears his throat and takes a swallow of his drink. "The difficulty about a divorce is that you bring it up right at a time when I'm practically lined up for a promotion, Executive Vice President. But a divorce right now would kill it. I don't mind the idea of a divorce so much, but I'd hate to see it wreck my chances for that job."

"I can believe that."

"... huh?"

"Nothing. No matter."

"But we could work it out maybe. I could give you something to tide you over a few months until the promotion goes through."

"How much?"

"I don't know ... I hadn't thought about that. A few thousand maybe. And then later we could work out something on the rest. I could write you a check."

"A cashier's check?"

"You'd have to wait until tomorrow. I'd have to go to the bank for that."

I laugh. "I'm not in that much of a hurry. Shall we say five thousand then?"

"Four."

"All right. I won't argue. Four is enough for a couple of months at least. Then we can take care of the rest of it later based on your new position and all. I'll file for the divorce then. Well, now that that's settled, I feel like another drink. ... make me one?"

He takes my glass. "You plan to stay the night?"

"Mmm hmm ... might as well. T have to go to the bank with you anyway." '

I take my fresh martini from him and poke the olive into my mouth with the little stick. I feel wicked. It has all been marvelously easy with him about the money. "Thanks," I say. I cross my legs so that my robe hikes up over my knees.

He glances down, sneers a little. "If it wasn't for what we were just talking about," he says, "I'd guess you were on the make for me ... sitting there like that."

"I just don't feel like wasting the evening ... or these drinks. If I'm going to stay here tonight, we might just as well make some use of it."
He looks at me incredulously, shakes his head. "How can you tell me you want a divorce one minute, then try to coax me down on the couch with you the next?"

"Oh don't be so stuffy, Graham. That always was your trouble. Relax ... Come on over with me and have a little fun."

"But you still want the divorce?"

"Certainly. Eventually, at least. But let's not think about that now. Come on."

"You're a bitch ... a real bitch."

I smile innocently. "Am I ...?"

"And you ought to be screwed like a bitch ... raped ... fucked in your mouth ... your ass."

"Graham, how you talk. You wouldn't do such things, we both know that. You couldn't if you tried."

"Couldn't I? Want to try me?"

I laugh. "Sure ... but I don't think you're capable of anything more than just climbing on and getting off."

"Strip!"

"Really, Graham ... this is so unlike you." I laugh again. I stand up and open my robe and pull it back. I can tell that he is startled to see I'm naked underneath it. I drop the robe on the carpet and kick off my slippers.

"You are a bitch, aren't you?" He steps forward and grabs me by the arms and rather roughly sits me back down on the sofa. He stands in front of me. The muscles of his face are drawn, tense. He unzips his pants. "Get out my cock," he says.

I reach into his trousers and find him swollen but not quite stiff. "Why you're not even hard, Graham," I say. I enjoy teasing him. I draw out his prick. It feels strange holding him like this after so many weeks.

"I'll get there," he says. He presses his cock against my face. "Eat me," he commands.

I laugh. "You shock me, Graham. I didn't think you --"

"Don't talk so much. Just eat me. Suck me ..."

I take the head of his prick between my lips. It strikes me funny that he thinks he is degrading me when this is such innocent play compared to other things I've done. But that feeling doesn't last long. He clutches the back of my head and holds me immobile. He rams his cock into my mouth. "Open up wider," he says. His voice is cold, a little frightening. He pushes in even deeper. He starts to slide his prick back and forth between my lips. I realize he doesn't want me to really eat his prick at all. He just wants to fuck me in the mouth with it. He wants to abuse me, make me as miserable as he can. It suddenly all becomes very hateful to me. I gag. He holds my head and fucks my mouth rapidly. My jaw begins to ache. I want to sink my teeth into his prick. But before I can, I gag again. My whole mouth feels numb. I think I am going to vomit.

He stops suddenly, pulls his cock out. My jaws close painfully. "Want to quit?" he says.

I don't answer. I don't want him to think he's getting the best of me. I just sit there working my jaw, trying to make the ache go away.

"Get up then. Bend over the couch. Stick your ass out toward me."

I do as he says. I try to think of a way to get back at him. I feel the head of his prick push against my cunt. He jams it in. He reaches around my ribs and grabs my breasts. He squeezes them. Too hard.

"Oow! Hey, cut it out. You don't have to hurt me."

He grunts, mumbles something I don't understand. He lets go of my breasts but shoves his cock into me harder. He moves his hand between my buttocks and sticks one of his fingers an inch or so into my ass. It hurts. There is nothing romantic about it. Nothing even sensual about it. He uses me like some kind of fucking machine, driving his cock and finger into me as hard as he can. I struggle to get away, but he holds me down.

Then his cock pulls out of my cunt and thrusts into my ass. He has never screwed me in the ass before and I suppose he thinks this is all something new to me. He shoves his prick all the way in to its thick hairy base. I cry out. I twist and turn and try to get away from him. This only seems to excite him more. He rubs my cunt with his fingers. His nails scratch me. His other hand claws at my breasts. He pumps his cock faster in and out of my ass. Then I feel the warm spurts of his cum shoot into me. Unexpectedly, I cum too. It only lasts a moment but the feeling is intense and I forget I am with Graham. We collapse on the sofa. I am glad that it is over. It hurts again when he pulls his prick out of me.

After a minute, Graham gets up and struts about the room, his prick still hanging out of his trousers. He looks at me triumphantly and zips up his pants.

I decide not to let him get the best of me. "Oh, are we through now?" I ask. "I'll put on my robe then." I wink at him. "I kind of wish we were just starting. Maybe later though ..."

Graham looks at me confused. "You mean you liked it?"

"Sure ... didn't you? Well, I wouldn't say it's the best I've ever had, but if this is the new Graham, it's certainly an improvement over the old. Not that I've changed my mind about a divorce or anything. But I have to admit you were pretty good."

Graham blinks at me unbelieving. "I thought --" His voice catches. "Jesus Christ ..." His face changes color. He gulps his drink, forces a laugh. "I really didn't think you'd go for it that way ..."

"Oh it was fine. Of course I liked it. I've never been exactly a prude, have I?"

"No ... but Christ, how come if. you like it so much, you want a divorce?"

I laugh. "I didn't say I liked it that much."

Graham doesn't answer. He just stares at me. I realize that somehow I have managed to turn his little game around on him. Suddenly I am in the superior position again. I decide to play a little game of my own. I light a cigarette. I hold out my almost empty glass. "Be a dear and make me a fresh one, will you?"

He takes the glass. "Yes ... all right." He still looks puzzled. He walks slowly over to the bar. The strut is gone out of him.

I come up behind him while he is fixing the drink and rub my breasts on his back. "That felt nice being screwed in the ass," I say. I slide my hand around his hips to his prick. "Your cock felt so big and good when it was in my mouth, too. Too bad you're so soft down here now. I wish we could just keep at it and at it, don't you?"

I feel his cock begin to harden again. He whirls around with my drink and I have to let go of his prick to take it. His face looks pasty.

"Should I get it out again now? It looks so big pushing against your pants. Feels nice too. You're getting good and stiff already. Mmm, I'm sure you're ready to fuck me with it. In my cunt this time though, all right? I like to be screwed in the ass, but I want you to cum in my cunt, too. I'll suck it again first ... okay? But not until I wash you. I mean I wouldn't want to get fucked in the ass and then have the same cock again in my mouth without cleaning it up a little first. I'll get a washcloth for that, all right?"

Graham swallows hard and nods. I watch his Adam's apple going up and down. His eyes look big and shallow.

I bring the washcloth and a pan of water and some soap. Graham's prick springs out when I unzip his pants. "Maybe we'd better take your pants off so we don't get them all wet and soapy, too," I say. "Here, I'll help."

I soap the washcloth and press it to his prick. I spread the soap on thick from the base to his fleshy cockhead. Then I drop the washcloth in the pan and begin to slowly stroke his soapy cock with my bare hands. He leans back against the bar, thrusting his belly out toward me. His eyes are tight shut. "Does this feel good to you?" I tease. "Your cock will be so nice and clean for me to eat."

He almost cums in my hands.

I let go of him quickly and step back.

"Don't stop," he groans. "Keep rubbing me."

"Don't you want me to eat you again?"

"Yes ... Christ ... all right."

"Not here, let's get down on the sofa.' You can rub my cunt while I suck you. I'll rinse the soap off you first ..."

Graham lies back on the couch and I eat him. It is entirely different than earlier when he was using my mouth as just another hole to fuck. Now I am eating him. I am the one controlling it. I press my tongue against him, take his cock all the way in until I feel the head of it rubbing against the roof of my mouth. I slide my lips slowly back and forth.

I suck his prick for as long as I feel like it, then sit back. He tries to get me to take it back into my mouth again, but I push him back. "I want to be fucked now," I say. "In my cunt. Shall I get on top of your"

He nods. His face looks feverish. His eyes bulge.

I sit on his prick and slide my cunt down the smooth firm length of it. I fuck him. I pull myself up off him and walk on my knees along the sides of his body until I am kneeling with my pussy directly over his face. "Why don't you eat me now ...?" I ask. "Lick my cunt?"

He does. I feel his tongue push deep inside me. I like to be eaten in this position. It occurs to the that if I were to sit down hard on his face now and hold him there I could smother the life out of him. I pull up. "Enough of that," I say. "Let's screw again."

I get off the sofa and lie down on my back on the thick carpet and flaunt my body in front of him. I spread my legs and slide my hands sensuously up my thighs to my cunt. I spread my pussy lips with my fingers so that he can see the glistening pink wetness. "Come on, Graham, screw me ... fuck me now with your big prick.

He climbs eagerly over me and rams his cock into my cunt. I wail out about how good it feels. I fake it. I make him think I am cuming and cuming. Actually it feels good enough, but not nearly as much as I make out. I buck hard against him. I want him to think I am having the best fuck ever. "Oh, fuck me, Graham ... fuck me ... oh I'm cuming again ..."

He is about to burst inside me when I push him back. "Stop ... just a minute. I want a sip of my drink." I get up and walk over to the coffee table to get it, squirming my buttocks sensuously up and down. I come back to where he is and sit cross-legged on the carpet in front of him. I laugh. "What's happening ... you're getting all soft again. Here, get up on your knees. We'll fix that."

He kneels and I take his prick in my hand, then dip the head of it into my martini. I raise the glass to get as much of his cock into it as I can. His prick looks pale in the martini. It stiffens almost immediately. "I thought you'd like that," I say. "... nice and cool. I'll bet you've never had your cock in a martini before." I draw the glass away. "Now I'll lick you dry, all right?" I tongue his prick for a moment, then stand up. "Let's fuck again ... come on, over here ..."

I lead him across the room to the big velvet covered poker table in the corner. I climb up on the table, stand on it and snap on the green-shaded overhead light. I kneel in front of his face. "Stick your tongue in me ... eat me," I say.

He presses his mouth to my cunt. As soon as I feel his tongue, I back away. I swing my body around and kneel with my buttocks toward him. I lean forward on the table, making a pillow for my head with my hands. I spread my thighs so that he can see the lips, of my cunt. I wave my ass at him. "Come on up here, Graham, so you can fuck me. Hurry. I need to be screwed."

But I don't have to coax him. He is already getting up onto the table. His prick feels like a hot shaft of steel going in. He pumps in and out. I hear myself moaning. I am not faking it now. Graham's cock fits me good and tight. My cunt clings to it. I reach back and play with his balls. I milk his scrotum with my thumb and fingers. I detest him, but I am enjoying it now. He says something about how good it feels. I respond to the increasing pace of his thrusts. "Every marriage should have at least one good fuck before it ends, don't you think?" I say. I drive my pussy back against him. I feel our juices dribbling down my legs. My nipples burn as they press into the smooth velvet of the card table. The table rocks. I feel as if we are hanging on the edge of a precipice. I have no feeling but the feeling of cock inside me. Warm cream suddenly gushes into me. I cum too. I enjoy the feeling of the spurting scum. It doesn't last long. We both sink down onto the table. Graham moves off me. We flip over onto our backs. I stretch out my body on the velvet. I feel like having another drink ...



Chapter 19

I am still high from the martinis when we go to bed and I think that maybe in the morning I will want Graham to fuck me again. But when we wake I just want to get the money we've agreed on and leave.

We go to the bank to get the money. Graham tries to talk me down on the amount, but I end up with the $4,000.00. I fold the check carefully and tuck it in my purse. He takes me back to the house to get my suitcases. He stands by the window watching while I gather up a few bracelets and necklaces. I know what he has in mind even before he domes over and puts his arm around my waist. I pull away from him. "Graham ... really, haven't you had enough? Are you trying to set a record or something?"

He keeps at it, tries to get me down on the bed, tries to persuade me to stay on for a few days. But I rebuff all of his advances and say that I have no intention now of doing anything except leaving as soon as I can.

He gives it up apparently, sits in the chair next to the window, stares out. "I'll tell you what, Carrie," he says finally, "... give me one more good ride before you go and I'll add another five hundred dollars to the four thousand."

I glance up at him with mock surprise. "Graham, it sounds as if you're trying to make a whore out of
me. That's really not very nice, considering that technically at least I'm still your wife."

He ignores what I say. "I don't mean just an ordinary piece," he says. "I mean something wild ... way out ... like last night."

"I don't think I have the energy," I laugh. But the idea begins to appeal to me. Not the money really, but the thought of Graham actually being willing to pay me for it. And his wanting to have it again in some wild way. Both things are so incongruous.

I start thinking about some of the things I could try on him. I am surprised to feel my pussy moisten a little. I decide to push it farther. "I'd hate to be just a cheap slut or anything, Graham," I say, ". . . but even a lady might say yes to a thousand."

I expect him to explode at that. But he just stares at me evenly. "It depends on how good you can make it," he says.

"Oh I can make it good all right."

"Tell me."

"No, that'd ruin it. It would have to be a surprise. A thousand then?"
He nods. I can see eagerness beginning to rise in his face, his prick starting to push out against his pants.
"You'll have to give me a minute alone to get ready. Wait outside."

After he leaves I take off my clothes and stand naked in front of the mirror, trying to think of what to do. I pick up my lipstick and apply it thick on my lips. Laughing to myself, I lipstick the tips of my nipples. I draw more circles on each of my breasts. Concentric ones that make my nipples look like targets. I get carried away with the idea of it all and make lipstick arrows on my belly and upper thighs all pointing at my pussy. I dab some lipstick on my cunt lips and make them bright red.

I step back and look at myself for a moment in the mirror. I laugh, but it all makes me feel very sexy. I get a lovely pink pants suit that I have worn only once or twice out of one of my suitcases and slip it on with nothing else beneath. With a scissors I cut small holes in it so that my red nipples poke out. I cut a wide slit in the crotch so that the tips of the pointing arrows can be seen. I put my hair up high in my head and put pink ribbons in it to hold it up, then make bangs that come down almost to my eyes.

"Aren't you ever going to be ready in there?" I hear Graham call.

"In just a minute ... be patient."

I spray cologne on my neck and nipples and pussy. I draw the belt of the pants suit tight. I study myself in the mirror again. I look like a thousand dollar prostitute all right. A prostitute about to get paid for screwing her own husband. The craziness of the whole idea excites me.

Graham almost leaps at me when I go out into the living room. In a moment we are rolling on the carpet.

I stick one of my lip sticked nipples into his mouth. "Bite me," I say. "... ooh not too hard ... that's better. Suck me ... the left one. It itches. I'll get your prick out now so you can fuck me. Or do you want me to eat you first? You eat me too. I want to feel your tongue up in my cunt. I'll swing around. Like this. Mmmm, your big cock will taste so good."

He eats the lipstick from my cunt.

I suck his prick in my mouth.

We fuck standing up with my one leg raised to spread open the slit I've cut around my pussy in the pants.

He rubs my breasts and nipples constantly as he screws me. I can tell from his urgent grunts and the way he thrusts his cock in and out of me that it won't last long. I am sexed up too and keep cuming with every few strokes. It is not being with Graham that excites me ... it is the wildness of it, the odd costume I have made, the way I am screwing him for money. It could be the cock of any man. I drive my cunt against it as it fucks me.

We finish it still standing there next to the sofa. Most of his cum runs down my legs. He keeps his prick in my cunt until it softens and shrinks out of me.

I take a shower to wash off the lipstick and Graham's cum. I slip back into my dress. He gives me the thousand dollar check and asks me to stay on a few days." "No," I say. "It's been good, but I've had enough, really. I'll send you my address when I get settled so you can write me when it's okay to go ahead with the divorce."

"Maybe we could go out together some time," he says. ". . . have dinner or something."

"Maybe. We'll see." I bring my suitcases out into the living room.

He helps. "Can I give you a ride anywhere?"

"No. I'll just call a cab ... thanks."

The taxi arrives a few minutes later. Graham carries out my suitcases. He keeps trying to change my mind about leaving up to the last minute. "No, Graham," I say. I kiss him lightly on the cheek. He stares at me dumbly. Then I am in the cab and gone.

I spend the next few days looking for an apartment. With all the money I have in the bank now, my eyes are big and I have trouble finding something that satisfies me. In the meantime I stay at the Hotel Plaza again. The gawky bellhop looks startled when he sees me in the lobby and keeps thinking up excuses to come to my room. But I don't give him any encouragement. I have decided to stay off sex until I get located in a new place. He keeps at it, and I see no reason to be bitchy about it so I let him in and make him a drink.

I restrict him to kissing me at first, but eventually I give in to his eager advances and let him fuck me. It doesn't last long, but I am content about it afterwards. It kind of gets the feeling of Graham out of my system. It is like a hot refreshing bath. I get a kick out of it too because he's so proud of himself, as if he's just seduced a virgin.

He even sends up some roses from the flower shop in the lobby the next day. I keep them for a day but then forget to put in water, and they start to wilt. I wrap them up in a newspaper and stuff them in the waste basket on the maid's cleaning cart. The next time that Tom that's the bellhop's name -- comes to the room, I can see he is looking for the roses. I thank him and say that they were beautiful but that I have an allergy and can't sleep with flowers in the same room. I tell him that I gave them to an old lady who said she had a nice place to keep them in the sun. I expect this explanation to satisfy him, but he still seems unhappy about it so I get out his prick and let him fuck me again. As he cums, he sucks one of my nipples deep into his mouth.

I am tired of taking. cabs apartment hunting so I buy a car, a new convertible. I don't want to make too much of a dent in my money so I buy it in installments, figuring that I will be able to finish paying for it with the money I will get later from Graham. For a few days I forget about apartment hunting and just drive the car around, as if it is a new toy. I want to show it off to somebody so I take Tom for a ride.

We drive south along the Louisiana peninsula toward the point. The river is banked high against floods and we don't see much of it. But still it is pleasant moving along smoothly in the open car with Tom sitting next to me. I let him rest his hand on my thigh. The breeze sweeps back my hair.

I turn off the highway and try to get to a place where we can see the Gulf. But the road leads nowhere except deeper into sand and grass and trees. We stop and get out and walk about on the sandy road. We find a dead-looking snapping turtle. It doesn't look as if it's been hit by a car, but it is all dried up about the eyes as if it's been baking there on the road all day in the sun.

Tom picks it up by the back of its shell and carries it to the shallow stream that runs next to the road. The turtle remains motionless even when he puts it in the water. We stand there bending over the stream, watching it. I am sure that it is dead or too close to being dead to recover. But after a few minutes I see its tail and legs start to move. Slowly at first. Then more rapidly.

"Look Tom, it's starting to move!" I say. "See its legs. Maybe its going to be all right."

Tom nods. "It was probably just dehydrated. It's soaking up the water now. Watch its mouth. You can see it swallowing."

"Oh yes ... you're right. I hadn't noticed that. And now its eyes look different, too ... so bright."

We stand there watching. I put my arm around Tom's waist. Finally the turtle begins to swim away slowly as if nothing at all has happened. We follow it along the road for awhile until a big bush blocks our path. By the time we get around it the turtle has disappeared. We look farther along the stream, but it is gone. I imagine it swimming faster now ... heading for deep water.

We walk back to the car. I feel good about the turtle coming back to life. I think about how carefully Tom picked it up, released it in the stream. I glance at him. He doesn't look awkward, gawky anymore. I wish I hadn't thrown away his roses.

"What is it?" Tom asks.

I smile. "Nothing ... I just thought I saw something."

"Oh ..."

We walk along holding hands. A sudden good feeling grips me and I think that it will make me burst. I squeeze Tom's hand tighter. My feeling for him is strong. I'm sure he doesn't have the least idea of what has happened to me. He just walks along next to me, as if looking for more animals along the road.
We get back in the car. I lean over and kiss him hungrily, drinking in the wetness of his tongue, his lips. I draw his hand to my breasts. I unbutton my blouse so he can reach inside. The touch of his fingers on my skin is exciting. In a minute my blouse and bra are off. He kisses my nipples, sucks them. I am worried about his teeth and have to caution him.

"Yes ... I'll be careful," he says.

I grope for his prick and find it full and erect against his trousers. I unzip him and take his hot cock in my hand.

I pump it. I explore its shape. I trace my fingertip around the flaring edge of the head. I find the hard cord that stretches up the underside of it. I slide my hand down to the heavy warm thickness of the base. I squeeze it, reach down still farther and stroke his balls.

"You're forgetting about me," I say. "I want to be rubbed, too."

He murmurs something, begins to caress my breasts again.

"... not there," I say. "Here ..." I take his hand, draw it to me. His fingers move up under my panties. He doesn't seem to know about a woman's clitoris so I guide his hand to it and pull his finger down against it. ". . . there, rub me there ... oh yes ... I'll keep rubbing you, too."

I rub his stomach, the tangled mat of hair above his cock and reach up under his shirt to feel the muscles of his chest. I stroke his. cock again. His hips begin to stir. He thrusts himself up into the tight groove I've made with my hand.

"Let's do it now ...?" I say."... fuck."

He puts me down right away, gets on top of me. All of his muscles are tight, rigid.

"Not here," I say. "There's more room in back."

He nods. "Okay ..."

I slide away from him and open the door to get around into the back. I step out. The hot sun bathes my naked breasts and stomach. The breeze blows delightfully against me. I stand there looking about. The place we are in enchants me. The narrow untraveled road stretches flat and sandy until it disappears in a curve a few hundred feet ahead of us. The low branches of the trees droop almost to the edge of the road. Butterflies flit about. I am enthralled by it all -- it seems almost as if I am in some fairyland.

"Why don't we stay out here," I suggest. "It's so nice in the sun. You can hear the wind ..."

Tom is standing next to me now, lightly fondling one of my breasts. "Where will we go?" he asks.

"Why not stay right here on the road. The sand is soft and warm. I haven't seen a car for miles. I don't think anyone will come." I turn to him, put my arms around his neck and crush my body to his. I pull his shirt all the way up to his armpits so that I can press my bare breasts against his chest. His cock is still out of his pants and I tug up on my skirt so that it can rub against me.

"Maybe we should at least go around in front of the car," I say laughing. "... just in case someone drives by and we don't see them coming. That would be awful, wouldn't it? -- getting run over on the road while we were fucking." The whole idea strikes me very funny and I keep laughing as I pull him around in front of the hood of the car. I feel giddy, full of life, happy in the wind and under the sun with him. I see the reflection of my half-naked body in the shiny chrome of the bumper. My face and breasts look flattened and oblong.

I unbuckle his belt and peel down his trousers and shorts. His cock pokes against my belly. We pull off my panties. .I step out of my skirt. We strip the rest of the way and start to fuck standing up. The hot sand burns my feet and I almost dance on the road as he keeps jamming his prick up into me. I cum after only a few shallow thrusts. I feel his sweat mix with mine.

We get down on the road. in front of the car. It burns my back and thighs terribly at first but I love fucking with him in the open, under the sun. My cunt is hot and bursting. The cream gathers inside, thickens and rolls down over my thighs.

We drive back to the main highway. I try to look for signs that will help me remember the turn. I keep thinking that someday I will want to come back to this place. We head north back toward the city. I have the feeling that everything is falling back away from me and I pull Tom's hand to my thigh. I drive faster. The trip seems to take forever as we pass through the small nameless towns. It gets dark. Finally we see the lights of the city brightening the sky ahead. I feel strangely tired. The place where we stopped on the sand road seems a long way, a long time back.

Next week, Tom spends every night with me. We go for long rides in my car, eat supper together at drive-ins. One night he takes me to a movie. Another evening we walk up and down Canal Street, window shopping and going into some of the stores that are still open. He buys me an inexpensive but pretty bracelet with a dozen silver roses hanging from it as charms.

"There, you won't be allergic to those," he says.

I laugh and put on the bracelet and give him a kiss. We walk on down the street. I can hear the charms on the bracelet jangling.

It is a hot night and when we get back to the room I take a bath to freshen up. Tom sits on the edge of the tub and watches me. When I finish washing, he pats me dry with the towel. We go back into the bedroom. I feel cool, refreshed, eager for his touch. I make drinks. I don't put on a robe. I walk about naked with his eyes feasting on me delightfully. We drink our drinks and smoke cigarettes. We talk about my bracelet. I sit in a chair with my legs drawn up so that he can see my pussy. He stares at me.

"Why don't you get undressed too," I say.

He gets out of his clothes. His prick is rigid and handsome. I reach out and stroke it. I rub his balls. He stands there in front of me.

"Have you been with many women like this?" I ask.

"Enough ..."

"Not very many I bet." I keep fondling his cock.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know ... you're so young and all."

He flushes. "Not that young. Shit ..."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty. ... almost twenty."

"Nineteen? Really?"

"Why do you say it that way?"

"No reason. Nothing." I let go of him and sit back in my chair. I smile. "I still think I'm the first woman you've ever really gone to bed with."

"There've been others."

"Tell me about them ..."

"Why?"

"I don't know ... I'm just curious. What about the first one, where did it happen with her?"

"... where?"

"Mmm hmm. I mean was it at a beach ... or up in a barn ... or out riding somewhere in a car? ... you know."

"On a davenport in the back of her father's store."

"... oh."

"What difference does that make anyway?"

"It doesn't I guess." I reach out and touch his cock again. It rises. "Do you like it as much with me as you did with her?"

He nods.

"More?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to fuck me now?"

"Uh huh."

I can feel his prick throbbing in my hand. He rocks on his legs. He is trembling. "I'll eat you first," I say. I lean forward and take his cock between my lips.

I lick the stickiness from the tip and start to suck him.

His cock feels good filling my mouth. I put my arms around him and grip the smooth hard cheeks of his ass.

I suck him deeper.

It excites me to feel his whole body quivering.

He thrusts himself toward me. I feel his cum spurt against my tongue and the roof of my mouth.

I take it all, swallow it. My mouth my throat my stomach is now full of his warm scum.

I draw his prick out of my mouth and press kisses all along its length. I lick the last of his cum from the tip.

I lie back on the chair so that he can eat me. I am sleek with wetness. He has never kissed my cunt before and I am eager for the touch of his lips, his tongue. I feel his mouth against the puff of hair on my mound. He buries his face in deep against me. I can feel the shape of his mouth, his nose, his chin, his tongue.

I grasp his arms, slide my hands over his tight muscled biceps, grip them. He eats me and I cum ...

At the last moment, I hear him say it that he loves me. The words sound as if they come from a great distance. They destroy it. I know that it is all a lie. We are only a cock and a cunt wallowing in the wetness of our own cum. I am a bitch and he is almost twenty. He is only an illusion of an illusion. But I am real. I am a slut, a whore, a cunt. I have a dream of myself I see myself somewhere on a puffy cloud. But my wings have been cut and I cannot get to it. It is a lie. I hear his faint words echo ...

"Let me up," I say. "I want to get my cigarettes."

The feeling of being alone closes in.



Chapter 20

I rent an apartment in the French Quarter the next day. The phone rings several times before I can check out of the hotel but I don't answer it. I don't want to talk to him.

The apartment is on Dauphine Street, a block from Bourbon. It is quiet there, just what I want. My rooms are on the third floor. I stand on the balcony in the warm sun and look down at the people moving slowly along the sidewalk. A pigeon lands on the rail of a balcony a few doors down from mine. I try to coax it over to my balcony but it ignores me, then flies away. I think about putting out some food for it.

I go back inside. The furniture is old and worn but it looks good to me because it is in my apartment. I think of a few pieces I will add here and there. I rub my foot across a threadbare spot in the carpet. I will replace that. I enjoy the feeling of being in my own place and making plans to change it.

I take a short nap in the bedroom, then go out to shop. It feels nice to have money to buy things. I spend the rest of the day shopping. I pick out a chair and a table and a new mattress. I order it all to be delivered. I see other things that I will buy later. I buy a dark blue jersey dress that hugs my breasts. It feels good to be starting everything all over. I stop in a liquor store and buy a quart of bourbon and some fancy mixes. At the grocery store I pick out the most expensive steak. When I get back to my apartment I have to make two trips up from the car to carry it all in.

I drink whiskey sours until I get a little high, then cook the steak. I make a salad. I put on my new blue dress and eat supper sitting out on the balcony. It is all very pleasant. After my meal I smoke a cigarette and drink coffee and watch the sun sink down behind the buildings across the street. The evening breeze whips up. Lights start to come on in some of the buildings. I feel the night close in. I go back inside. The apartment seems different now in the darkness. Bleak. A little depressing. I turn on all the lights. I make myself another drink. I decide to buy a canary or goldfish or something to keep me company.

I spend the next few days mostly shopping, and by the end of the week, the apartment has a bright nevi look. I buy some paintings and a rich looking gold carpet. And some lovely furniture that blends in nicely with what I had. For the balcony I pick out a rattan set with big tub chairs. I get a canary, too. Evenings, I sit out on the balcony with a Tom Collins or some other fancy drink and watch the crowds pass by. Every night I see a man in the window directly across the street pacing back and forth. I try to guess what is bothering him. I wonder vaguely whether I will ever fuck him.

I listen to the cars and watch the crowds. I wish I were among them. I look as far as I can down the street to where the buildings become a blur, then bring my gaze back and stare down at the sidewalk immediately below. I see a man smiling at something the woman with him has just said. I hear her laugh. I feel a thousand miles from them. I look back into the window across the street but the pacing man is gone. There is a dim light on in his room. He is probably resting on his bed.

I imagine myself phoning him. Hello, my name is Carrie. I live just across the street. If you look out your window, you can see me. That's right, sitting here on the balcony. Why don't you come over and have a drink? We could fuck then afterwards. We could fuck even before we have the drink if you want to. You could tell me about why you pace back and forth all the time tell me what it is that bothers you. I haven't been fucked in more than a week, you know. I've had sort of a holiday from it, been fixing up my place so it looks nice and new. Why don't you come over and I'll show it to you? We'll fuck and I'll eat you if you'd like me to. All right. I'll see you in a few minutes then. You can let yourself in. I'll just sit here on the balcony and wait.

I am suddenly chilly in the evening air and go inside to get a sweater. I see a short pink skirt hanging in my closet and instead of getting the sweater, put on the skirt and a lacy white blouse. I brush my hair and put on lipstick that matches the skirl. I don't put on stockings. I step into the pair of silver high heels that I've brought from home. I stand in front of the mirror, turning this way and that adjusting my clothes. I drape the sweater over my arm, take a last sip of my drink and go out into the night.

It excites me to be back again with the noisy crowds walking along Bourbon Street under the flashing glowing neon lights. Every block or so, some man tries to pick me up but none of them interest me and I walk on rapidly. I come to the shrimp restaurant and go inside. The good-looking black waiter takes my order for a mug of beer. He smiles at me warmly and the feeling goes right to the pit of my stomach. I cross my legs beneath the table and squeeze my. thighs tight together. I wonder why he should stir me so.

I drink my beer and try to catch his eye again as he moves about waiting on other customers. He goes into the kitchen. I sit there for a long time waiting for him to come back out. But he doesn't. Finally I see that another waiter is taking care of his tables. The new waiter asks if I wish to order another beer. I shake my head no and in a few minutes get up and leave.

I look for him along the street, thinking he may have left the shrimp house out some back door. But I don't see him anywhere. I walk on with the crowds. My feet get very hot and tired and I think of just going back to my apartment. But I don't want to be there alone.

I get the idea suddenly of phoning Rae. I could have her over to sit out on the balcony with me and have a drink. I walk on a block or so thinking about it; then step into a telephone booth in a drug store and dig in my purse for the envelope with her number on it. I call her. My heart begins to race a little as I listen to her phone ring.

"Hello ... yes ... this is .Rae." Her voice is pleasant, husky. She seems happy to get my call. We make plans to meet at the Absinthe House, a famous old bar on Bourbon Street, then to go to my apartment from there.

We sit across from each other in my living room. Rae is lovely to look at in her light print dress. I feel the pressure build in me just from being in the same room with her. She crosses her legs and her skirt falls back on her thighs. They are very white and smooth. The muscles of her legs ripple. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful she is.

She lounges back on the sofa, rests her head. "Mmm ... this is so soft," she says. "I like the way you just sort of sink down into it. Makes me feel that if I closed my eyes I'd be sleeping in a minute."

I smile. "You're sure it's not partly the drinks?"

"No ... I don't think so. I don't feel at all high . . , just very pleasant ... dreamy.. . Why don't you come sit with me? Your chair looks so stiff compared to this."

"Should I make us another drink first?"

"Not for me ... I'm fine."

"I think I've had enough too."

I sit down next to her on the sofa. Her soft beauty is a magnet. I can smell her perfume. It is apple blossom ... no, stronger ... honeysuckle maybe. She is a beautiful flower, delicate smooth and white. Her skin touches mine as we lean toward each other. She kisses me. I taste her lipstick. My nipples pinpoint. A curl of her fine hair tickles my jaw.

Her hand steals under my skirt. She lets it rest there for a moment, halfway up my thigh. It excites me that she is so slow about it. Her hand moves up along my legs. Higher ... I hold my breath, waiting. Her fingers are wonderfully cool arid gentle on my bare skin. Her hand reaches my panties, slips under the hem. My bottom is wet from her touch. I feel the first light pressure of her hand on my pussy. My head swirls as her fingers spread the moist folds of my skin and dip deep into me.

"... touch me there too," she says.

"Yes ... I'm sorry. I just got carried away."

I slide my hand under her skirt. When I reach her panties she raises her hips to slip them off. We take off my panties too and lie on the couch with our skirts drawn up, pressing our naked cunts together and caressing each other with our hands.

I feel her fingers at the lace of my blouse. I help her with the buttons. Her hand moves cool beneath my bra. My nipples itch terribly at first but as she strokes them the pleasant sensation fills my breasts, flows all through my body. I press myself even tighter against leer. The honey from her pussy mixes with my own. I kiss the smooth white skin of her neck with my mouth open. I hear her small groan. "Mmmm Carrie, I like it better with you than anyone. Touch my breasts, too. Like I'm touching you. I don't have on a bra. Like that, yes. Mmm let's eat each other now ..."

We stand up and get out of our clothes quickly, let them drop on the carpet. She is beautiful standing naked in front of me. Her breasts are magnificent. Very white. Her nipples poke out pink. My eyes follow the smooth curves of her stomach, her hips, her thighs. The wetness of her pussy glistens beneath the auburn puff of hair.

"I like this part," she says. "Just looking at each other. It makes it even better when we don't rush things. I think I'll have a drink now first ... just a short one. How about you?"

"I don't think so." I reach to pick up her glass.
"No, never mind," she says. "I'll get it. Everything is right out on the counter."

I watch the fluid movement of her buttocks as she walks across the room. Her hair flows down beautifully over her shoulders and back. She is a dream walker. Sensuous. Lovely. There is a grace about her ... a poise. I am entranced by her every movement, gesture, the husky sound in her voice.

She comes back sipping a drink. She sinks back down on the sofa facing me and draws her knees up almost to her chest. Her vagina pouts pink and delicate in front of me. She smiles. "Let's start it again now. I want to be next to you ... close to you ..."

She kneels between my thighs, spreads them gently apart with her hands. I lie back. I feel her mouth on my stomach at first. Then her lips move over the thatch of hair on my mound to the hungry wetness of my pussy. She eats me. Her tongue dips into me. My cunt aches deep.

I turn around on the couch and slide down so that we can eat each other at the same time. I taste and smell her sweet musk. I drink in her flowing wetness ... thick ... creamy ... sweet. I chew her cunt lips, suck the swollen softness of her bud. I reach down between our naked bodies, caress her breasts. I rub my fingertips lightly over her nipples. She keeps eating me, feels my breasts, too. Our bodies melt into each other. It seems for a moment that we are one. Then her body begins to rock violently against mine. I press my tongue even deeper into her cunt. I hear her quiet moan as she cums. I cum, too. I love the smell of her, the taste of her, her silky smoothness. I move my mouth away from her pussy and press my lips against her thigh. I lie there next to her, thinking about how much I want her to cum and stay with me, to live with me.

Rae stays overnight. The next day we go in my car to get her things and she moves in. It is delightful having her live with me. I don't tell her where I've been the last few weeks and she doesn't ask. We shop together, go out to have lunch together and she helps me with fixing up the apartment. Evenings we sit out on the rattan chairs enjoying the breeze and looking down at the street. We sip fancy after dinner drinks and smoke Rae's long Turkish cigarettes. Her fingers move over my thigh across my skirt. I take her hand and press it down firm against my pussy. We kiss, sink our tongues into each other's mouths, fondle and stroke each other's breasts.

We get up and go quickly hand in hand into the bedroom. In seconds we are naked against the cool fresh sheets, our bodies intertwined, our open wet mouths eagerly drinking in each other's sex. When it is over, we lie on our backs, resting. Rae's body looks beautiful stretched out next to mine. The texture of her skin is perfect. The pink points of her breasts look like ripening berries, round and delicious. I sit up and suck one of them into my mouth, taste the sweetness. She slips her finger between the still sticky folds of my cunt. I rub her pussy, too. We strain our bodies against each other. I cum with a shudder. She sighs. She groans. We cry out our feeling for each other, call out each other's names. I sleep quietly through the night, a deep dreamless sleep. When I awaken in the morning, she is there next to me and I cuddle up close to her, pressing my breasts and stomach against her back, digging my knees into her thighs. It is cozy with her ... warm.

A week after moving in with me, Rae goes out one night on some modeling job that Lorraine arranged for her. It is the first time she's been gone from the apartment during the evening and the time drags. Everything is quiet. I feel very much alone. I try to read. I watch T.V. I try to make the canary sing. Finally it gets the best of me and I go out.

I have no intention of picking up anyone at first I just plan to have a drink in some bar and walk about until it is time for Rae to return. But after a couple of martinis in one place and one in another I find myself walking toward the shrimp restaurant. When I get there I see that the handsome black waiter is taking care of the tables in the back of the restaurant. I sit down at one of them. He comes over to me, asks for my order. His ebony face looks strong. His teeth are pearls. White. Glistening.

"I'll have bourbon," I say.

"And for mix?"

"Nothing."

"I'll bring you a glass of water."

"Thank you."

I watch him cross the room to the bar. His stride is smooth. He glides. The muscles of his shoulders and back ripple out against his tight white shirt.

He brings my drink, pours the whiskey in over the ice, then when I nod as he picks up the glass of water, he pours that in too.

I smile up at him and sip the whiskey.
He remains next to the table. "I haven't seen you in here for awhile," he says.

"I stopped about a week ago. You just don't remember." I smile again.

"Of course I do. A week is a long time."

He laughs a little. A couple comes in and sits down at a nearby table. "Excuse me," he says.

"You'll come back?"

"Yes."

"I don't know your name," I say.

"It's Mark."

"Mine is Carrie."

"Carrie? That's pretty." He smiles and leaves to go to the other table.

I finish my drink and he brings me another. I invite him to sit down but he says he never sits with the customers. He starts to excuse himself again.

I feel bold. "Why don't you come to my place. with me then?"

He doesn't look surprised. "I have to work almost an hour yet. We don't close until midnight."

"But you'll come with me when you're finished?"

"Yes."

"I'll wait then ..."

I watch him work. His every move is graceful. He glances at me occasionally. Already I am thinking about how it will be to have his black skin pressing against mine. I watch the clock, waiting for the hour to end.



Chapter 21

We begin undressing almost as soon as we get back to the apartment. I help Mark with the buttons of his white shirt. He unhooks my bra and my breasts climb free into his hands. He cups them, caresses them as I slide my panties over my hips.

We crush our bodies against each other. The blackness of his skin excites me strangely. The muscles of his chest and arms are solid, strong. I am naked now but he still has on his shorts. I nod for him to take them off. He pulls them down. His cock juts up at me dark and thick. The head of it bulges. I have never seen a black man's prick before, never touched one. I stare at it, press my belly against it. It is hard, swollen, a beautiful dark spear. His fingers find my cunt, move in deliciously. I stroke his prick, then rub the tip of it against the moist velvet of my slit.

We get down on the sofa. His cock pushes in. He fills me with its rigid warm thickness. He fucks me with long deep hard strokes. I wrap my legs around the backs of his thighs and cum with a groan as I pull him even deeper into me. We kiss, explore each other's tongues. I love the black firmness of his chest crushing against my breasts. I am intoxicated by the strange new touch of him, the taste of him, the gleaming smooth blackness of his body.

He pulls his prick out of me and sits back. I think he is stopping to rest but then he lies back so that his head is at the end of the sofa opposite mine. He pushes forward until the tip of his cock is touching my cunt lips again. He grasps my thighs and pulls me toward him. I feel his prick slide in.

We fuck like that, lying on our backs, pushing slowly against each other. I like it this way. I have a pillow under my head and I can see the glistening black skin of his cock each time he pulls it part way out of me. His body is beautiful stretched out full-length on the sofa. His stomach looks flat and hard. I can barely see the thick tangle of hair on his belly because of the darkness of his skin. I watch the muscles of his thighs and stomach bunch and ripple, as he drives his cock rhythmically in and out.

I want to taste him, kiss him, eat him. When he stops his strokes for a moment, I draw away from him and kneel over him between his thighs. I take the wet black tip of his cock into my mouth, poke at it lightly with my tongue. I slide my lips slowly down over the thick rigid shaft, getting as much of it as I can into my mouth. I suck him. I play with his balls. I rub the smooth black skin of his belly and thighs.

We fuck again. Mark's prick jams deep into me, rubs good against my cunt. I cling to him, thrust myself up against him. He drives into me harder and I can tell that he is ready to push on to the end. I clutch him tighter, buck up against him. I feel his cock erupt, explode its warm cum. It spurts into me, fills me. My cunt feels as if a hot wet fire is burning inside it. I groan as I cum, too. Mark's prick softens. His body spreads out black and beautiful over mine.

I hear a sound, glance up. I see Rae standing in dim light in the kitchen looking at us. She is holding a water glass in her hand. I have no idea how long she's been there. It embarrasses me to have her find me with Mark like this but I can't just ignore her.

"Rae ...? Hi. Come in."

Mark sits up abruptly at my words, swings his legs over the side of the couch.

"You look busy ..." Rae says with a soft husky laugh.

I laugh too. `.`No ... we've finished that. Come in a minute. I'd like you to meet a friend."

She comes toward us. Mark has been staring down at the carpet but now he looks up. I introduce them.

"Hello ..."Rae says quietly.

"Hi," says Mark. His embarrassment seems to leave him. He stares at Rae's legs. She sits down in a chair across from us. She is wearing a green see through shortie nightgown.

Rae lights a cigarette, puffs it. "... what time is it?" she asks.

Mark looks at his watch. "... almost two," he says.

"... that late, really? I must have slept longer than I thought. I was so thirsty when I woke up." She turns to me, smiles. "Really, I'd just gotten into the kitchen before you noticed me."

I offer to make her a drink but she says she's tired. We talk back and forth. Rae says she'd been surprised to find me gone when she came back from her modeling job. She says she'd been a little worried when she woke up and I still wasn't in bed. I apologize and say I should have left a note. She laughs. "I didn't worry that much," she says.

She yawns, stands up, stretches. I can see the points of her breasts through the gown, the muff of hair above her pussy. "Well I'm going back to bed," she says. "... goodnight. Bring Mark with you when you come. It's a big bed ..."

Mark and I go to bed half an hour later. He offers to sleep on the couch. I shake my head. "That wouldn't be any fun ... you out here, me in there. Come on."


We get into bed still naked. Rae is already asleep. I slide, in between them. Mark lies on his side, his back toward me. I fit my belly to the cheeks of his ass, put my arm around him, trailing my fingers against his chest. I am very tired and in a minute start to doze.

I feel Rae's hand brush my arm. "... you asleep?" she asks.

"No ..."

"He is though, isn't he?" She moves her hand to my breasts.

"Yes ... I think so. Mmm it's nice to have you touching me."

"Even after being with him?"

"Sure ... that wouldn't change it with you."

"It wouldn't? I'm glad. He's really very handsome, isn't he?"

"Uh huh."

"... striking almost. Such smooth dark skin. It gave me goose pimples all over just to look at him."

I laugh. "Hey, I thought you didn't go for men."

"I know ... but he's different. But anyway he probably wouldn't be much interested in me."

"You don't think so? I'll bet he thinks you're ravishing. Didn't you see the way he looked at you when we were in the other room?"

"Mmm hmm It got me too." She rubs a fingertip over one of my nipples. "... you wouldn't mind then if he and I --"

"Of course not, silly. Just so the two of you didn't use yourselves up on each other and forget all about me.

Rae laughs. "No chance of that. Not me anyway." She gives my breast a last playful pat, then slides her hand quickly down over my belly. My cunt lips are still spread open. against Mark's ass. She works her hand between his skin and mine. I feel one of her fingers slip into me. She strokes my clitoris. I press forward, pushing the back of her hand against Mark. "I guess I'm the lucky one being in the middle," I say laughing. "You could reach him if you want to ... his prick."

"Not now. He's asleep. Besides, I like it just lying here the way we are."

"Shall we go to sleep?"

"Mmm hmm ... I'm tired."

"Let's not talk anymore then."

"All right ..."

In the morning I wake before the others and slip out quietly from between them. I put on my velvet robe and make fresh coffee, then sit out on the balcony enjoying the morning sun and thinking about how all of it was last night with them. I can still feel the glow inside me. I lay my head on the back of the chair and listen to the sounds of the people and the traffic on the street below.

When I sit up again, my coffee is cold. I go to the kitchen to pour a fresh cup. Through the open bedroom door I see them. Rae and Mark embracing, their naked bodies beautifully intertwined in the bright sunlight that falls across the bed. My instant slight feeling of jealousy vanishes almost immediately as I am caught up in a strange sensation of beauty as I look at them ... sensuous, enchanting, their naked bodies stretched out black and white against each other, intertwined in fluid motion, skins smooth and beautiful. I stand there as if hypnotized, watching them.

I see Mark's hand move slowly over Rae's white stomach to her pussy.

I see her slender hand against his black muscular thigh. She grasps his penis, pumps it slowly.

They roll against each other. Their faces and bodies are handsome, beautiful. Rae smiles at me. Her eyes are half-closed. She gets up on her knees and bends her face over Mark's prick. She strokes it until it is rigid, then takes the tip into her mouth. Nibbles at it. Sucks it. Her pink lips look beautiful encircling the black hardness. She lifts one knee over his face, straddles him, lowers her cunt to his mouth.

They eat each other. Mark's black cock glistens as it slides between Rae's lips. I watch his red tongue stretching up between her thighs, probing the pink wetness of her cunt.

Rae slips Mark's prick out of her mouth and presses the wet blackness of it for a moment against her cheek. Then she turns completely around on the bed and kneels over him. His cock juts up like black iron toward her cunt. She grasps it and rubs the head of it slowly back and forth along the length of her pussy lips. She lowers herself down onto him, stuffing the fullness of his prick into her cunt. She rides him ... fucks him. His cock looks enormous sliding in and out. Rae's cunt lips stretch wet and pink each time she pushes down on him. Their hips begin to move faster. My own pussy itches and aches. It becomes almost torture to just stand there watching them.

Rae pushes suddenly very hard all the way down. She holds herself there for a moment, impaled on Mark's prick. Her body quivers, trembles, begins to shake. I hear her cry out. She lifts herself up all the way off of him and flops forward across his chest. Mark has not cum. His prick still stretches up big and black and very hard.

They sit up and Mark reaches for his cigarettes. Rae's face is glowing. She looks at me, smiles her warm pleasant smile.

I feel awkward standing there. I can't think of anything to say.

"... here, sit down next to us," Rae says huskily. She moves over a little to make room for me on the bed.

We smoke cigarettes. I feel strange with the robe on and the two of them lying next to me naked. Rae crushes out her cigarette before it is half gone and grips Mark's cock and begins stroking it slowly. She bends forward and kisses the tip, licks it. I suck in deep on my cigarette.'

Rae lies back so that she is crosswise on the bed facing me. She takes Mark's cock and fits it into the crevice between her breasts so that the tip points toward her chin. She places her hands on the outside of her breasts and crushes them in against Mark's prick. He begins to move slowly, fucking her between her breasts. His cock keeps lengthening, swelling. She pushes her breasts tighter against it. She tosses back her head. Her eyes are shut. Her face is creased with tiny wrinkles of excitement. The swollen blackness of Mark's cock stretches out beautiful and immense between her white soft breasts.

I cannot resist reaching out to them. I touch Rae's knee, caress the curved firmness of her thighs. I brush the lacy puff of hair above her pussy, press my fingers into the moist pink velvet beneath. All the time I keep watching Mark's thick black cock sliding between her breasts, the big tip of it almost touching her chin. Rae opens her eyes. They look soft, liquid, very blue. She smiles at me, then brings her eyelids back together. Her mouth is half open, her face is strained with the excitement. I rub her cunt deeper, feel her cream flow. Mark keeps fucking her breasts.

I slide my body up farther over Rae's, keeping my hand against her pussy. I press my mouth to one of her breasts, take her nipple between my lips, suck it. I can feel the pressure of the thrusts of Mark's prick as it moves rapidly now between her breasts. I reach out gingerly, tracing my fingertips over the thick black shaft. I feel the strength of it, the wetness of it. I move my face closer so that the tip of Mark's cock touches my lips each time it slides forward between Rae's breasts. I open my mouth to take it in. With my hands I press Rae's breasts tighter against it. I time the movements of my head with the thrusts of Mark's prick so that the end of it doesn't slip out of my mouth.

I can see his flesh, hers. Her skin is cool, his warm. I hear their rapid breathing and my own. I am on the crest of an orgasm. I hold it there for a moment, then let it flood me. I drink in the wet strange wonderful taste of Mark's prick. I feel Rae's hand gentle against my cunt.

Mark shudders, his thick cream shoots suddenly into my mouth. I cum at the same time against Rae's hand. I hear her moan out in pleasure at Mark's last thrusts. I swallow the heavy stickiness of his cum. I feel I am a part of each of them, that for this moment we three are one.

Mark relaxes, lies back. Rae keeps groaning, presses her hand tighter against my cunt. I am still cuming. I feel myself floating ...

We smoke cigarettes. I stroke, Mark's still half hard prick while Rae feels my pussy and my breasts. "It's so nice with you two," I say. "I couldn't help wanting to be with you. I hope you didn't mind."

Mark shakes his head. "It was fine," he says smiling. His teeth show white.

"... except that you ruined him for me," Rae laughs. "At least I think you did." She turns to Mark. "... what about it, will you be ready soon again?"

"In a minute."

"Really?"

"Well, you might have to help me some."

"Could you do it right now ... get hard again?"

"I don't know ..."

"Let's try. Come on Carrie, help me." She grips Mark's cock. "... here, we'll make you nice and stiff again."

Together we stroke him. I rub the base of his cock and around his balls. Rae rubs the tip. His prick begins to harden. Slowly at first. Then suddenly it juts up erect, making our hands look small.

"My turn, okay?" Rae says to me.

I laugh. "... sure. Just don't chase me off the bed."



Chapter 22

Rae slides down on the mattress, rolls over on her back. She draws up her knees and opens her thighs so that her pussy spreads pink and wet in front of us. She pulls Mark over her. "Come on now, do it to me ... screw me ... stick it in me while you're so big and stiff."

Mark starts to fuck her. I watch his prick slide smoothly in 'and out. I reach out and run my hand lightly over the hair on Rae's mound, press a finger against the top of her slit. I can tell she likes this when I feel her hand cool against mine, pulling my finger harder against her cunt. I sit up and swing one leg over her so that I am straddling her breasts, facing Mark. I watch his rigid cock pump in and out of her cunt. I feel Rae's hands grasp my thighs, pull my buttocks toward her face. I feel the touch of her tongue against my pussy lips. It jolts me. Her tongue darts eagerly in.

I keep rubbing Rae's slit while she eats me. I move my hand down farther between her thighs and stroke the base of Mark's prick as he fucks her. I lean toward Mark, kiss him. "You are beautiful," I say.

I see Mark's eyes film over, his lips draw back tight against his teeth. "I'm going to finish now," he says.

Rae is tossing wildly beneath us. I hear her groan.

Mark clamps his eyes shut.

"Shall I keep rubbing your cock?" I ask.

"Yes ..."

"Like this?"

"Yes ... yes ... I'm cuming ..."

I make eggs and bacon for breakfast while Rae and Mark take showers. I cut up two grapefruits. I catch myself humming some tune that I haven't heard in years. Mark is still hungry after we finish eating and I end up cooking him another egg. "He needs it after all that exercise," Rae says laughing. The two of them look fresh and relaxed after coming out of the shower. Rae says she'll do the dishes if I want to take one. The three of us sit out on the balcony drinking coffee.

I ask Mark to move is with us. 'He only has a small room in some old hotel but he balks at my suggestion at first. He gives in though when I agree to accept monthly money from him toward the rent. "Sure ..." I say smiling, "I didn't mean it to sound like I wanted you to be a kept man." He fucks me again that night while Rae is out finishing up her modeling job. It is his night off work. We make it last for almost an hour. I feel a little guilty about it with Rae not here but I cum half a dozen times at least. I rub his balls. He kisses me, mouths my breasts. I feel his cum spurt into me. We lie there getting back our breath. I love looking at him. "Are we going to do it again later ... the three of us?" I ask. He nods. I laugh. "I don't see how you'll have anything left."

The next days are happy ones for me. I forget about everything else but the two of them. I watch their naked bodies glide smoothly about the room. I watch the whiteness of Rae's skin intertwine with Mark's blackness. I join in with them. We eat each other. We fuck. We spend long hours drinking coffee and listening to records on a new stereo I buy.

I buy other things, too. More paintings and lamps. Two wall length mirrors. Beautiful white drapes with a gold border that matches the carpet. I buy an expensive antique clock that doesn't go with anything, but I get it because Rae likes it. I buy a crystal chandelier for the center of the living room for no other reason than I imagine how it will be lying on the thick carpet watching the myriad reflections of our three bodies as we make love.

Mark has to work long hours at the seafood house and I don't like that at first. But it gives Rae and me chances to be alone ... to chat, to take long baths together, to sunbathe afterwards on the balcony, to rub suntan lotion deep into each other's skin. Usually Rae goes with me at night in the car to pick up Mark from work. We drink cocktails or beer while we wait for the restaurant to close. We ignore the other men who make a play for us. We press our legs against each other while we watch Mark work. After he finishes, we go for a short ride, then back to the apartment for the excitement of the long night, which ends only when we are all exhausted. We sleep late into the mornings. I feel full, light-hearted and content.

I sit in my bra and panties on the thick gold carpet, leaning back against the sofa. I gaze up at the reflections of Rae and myself in the chandelier. She is sitting next to me in her shortie green nightgown running her fingers through my hair. My hand is on her thigh.

Mark comes into the room and hands us each a daiquiri. It is his night off work again and we have the whole evening ahead. He is bare-cheated but is wearing tight, striped trousers that show the bulge of his prick. He stretches out on his side on the carpet facing us. We sip our drinks and listen to the stereo.

"It's nice all of us here just lounging," I say. "... not having to go to work."

Mark nods. "That's good music," he says. "What is it?"

"I don't know. Just something I picked up."

"It's kind of haunting," says Rae. "... mysterious."

"Yes."

Rae takes a swallow of her drink. "... these are delicious tonight, Mark," she says. "I like them when you put in all this chipped ice .... who has the cigarettes?"

I hand her a pack that is lying on the carpet but no one can find any matches. Mark digs in his pockets. He has to stand up to reach all the way in. "... damn these tight pants," he says.

"Why don't you get out of them?" I say. "It's hardly fair with Rae and I sitting here in almost nothing and you all bundled up like that." I reach for his belt buckle, snap it open. "I'll eat you if you'll take them off," I say. I tug at the zipper.

Mark lights Rae's cigarette, then I help him slide his pants and shorts down over his hips. I grasp his supple smooth looking black cock and start to pump it.

He strains toward me. His prick juts up. "I thought you said you were going to eat me?"

I laugh. "Don't rush it so. I was just taking a moment to admire you." I pull him down next to me on the carpet and slip the head of his cock into my mouth.

I suck him deep. I feel his hand slide under my bra against my breasts. I lick the sticky wetness from the end of his prick. I feel Rae's hand move under the waistband of my panties. She caresses the folds of my pussy while I chew Mark's prick. I love it, being half-buried in the thickness of the gold carpet with the two of them. The music in the background seems distant.

I am restless. It is early evening. Rae and Mark have been staying with me now for almost a month. We've been sitting in the living room for about an hour, drinking and talking, occasionally kissing and petting each other playfully, gradually working up to another night of it. The others seem relaxed, content, but my restlessness stirs me and I get up and go out on the balcony. I am wearing only a thin pink housedress and I can feel the breeze cool on my thighs. My nipples were soft while I sat with the others 'in the living room but as I look out at the lights of the buildings on Dauphine Street, they spike out against my dress. I look far down the street until the lights mix with each other and blur. I listen to the sounds of the traffic. I smell the night. I taste it. I feel hemmed in by the rails of the balcony.

The breeze suddenly blows very cold against my skin and I go back inside. Mark and Rae are wrapped up on the sofa with their arms around each other. Mark is toying with one of Rae's breasts. Her hand rests lightly on his cock.

I stop in front of them. "Let's have a party," I say.

Mark glances up."... huh?"

"... you know," I say, "get a whole group to come over. A dozen maybe. It'd be fun. I don't mean just for an evening. We could start it on Friday and keep going until Monday. Anyone could sleep with anyone they wanted to ... change off whenever they pleased."

Rae looks puzzled. "Why do you want to do that? What's wrong with just the three of us?"

"Nothing. .But it'd be something different: We could have a time of it ... sort of a housewarming for this place."

Rae strokes Mark's prick slowly. "I don't know ..." she says. "I like everything just as it is." She turns to Mark. "Don't you ...?"

He nods. "I'm happy enough."

"I don't mean to change anything ..." I say. "It'd be just for a few nights. Then we could go back to it all being between us like it is now. We could get a lot of different things to drink. We really wouldn't need any more beds, the carpet is so soft. It'd be something with the mirrors and the stereo playing and all ..."

They keep objecting, but I don't pay any attention to them. I am set on it. "We'll all ask whoever we want. And they can each bring some of their friends, too. That way everyone will get to meet someone new."

All the next week I plan the party. I call different people I know. I phone Jacques and he says he'll come. I think of calling Hal and Armand but decide against it. I don't want to get started on it with them again. Instead I concentrate on inviting men I know just casually. The list of those coming grows. Mark and Rae finally get caught up in it and start asking some of their friends too. Mark asks if it'd be all right to invite an old girl friend of his. "Sure," I say. He shows me a picture of her that he has in his wallet. She has beautiful brown skin and jet black hair. "She's lovely," I say. "... makes me a little jealous to look at her."

"You shouldn't be," he says. He pats my ass playfully. In a minute we are on the couch fucking. I buck up against his thrusts. I keep imagining how it will be to watch Jacques or someone screw Mark's girl friend. I imagine her brown thighs spread wide with Jacques' prick dipping into her. I think about how if he can't get his cock hard I'll suck it until it is rigid, then help him stuff it in her. I imagine myself kneeling over her, chewing the nipples of her brown breasts while Mark, Jacques, any man screws me from behind.

Mark fucks me until we cum, then I pull my panties back on and go back to preparing for the party. It looks now as if there may be as many as thirty or forty coming. The apartment will be crowded with everyone. I decide to call Graham and feel deliciously wicked about inviting him but change ;my mind when I think about how it might complicate everything about the divorce and the money. In the course of making calls around I find out that Eric has been arrested in Texas for smuggling in marijuana and is in jail there waiting trial. This startles me and I feel bad about it at first. But it seems like a million years since I've been with him I can barely remember what he looks like and in a few minutes I've almost forgotten that I'd heard about him at all.

I invite a young fellow who screwed me standing up one night in Jackson Square while I was living with Armand and Hal. I don't know his name or anything but when I run into him on the street I ask him if he'll come.

"Sure ..." he says.

"Good ... and be sure to bring a friend."

"... a girl?"

I laugh. "Why not one of each," I say. I leave him then. I am on my way to buy some pillows. I order two dozen of them to be delivered. And the same number of pillow cases in different colors.

I am restless, impatient ... even a little bored. The party has been going on for more than a day now and there are still two days of it ahead. My apartment is crowded. I haven't taken any real count or anything but there must be at least fifty here. I've been screwed or eaten or both by at least six to eight of the men. Mark and Jacques of course. The others I'd never met.

Last night was wild ... loud music ... lots of drinking ... the sour smell . of burning grass ... everyone gradually gathering in small circles about the room ... stripping naked or half naked ... fucking and eating each other ... laughing, loudly ... the reflections of them all clear in the mirrors and in the crystal of the big chandelier.

But now, at the beginning of the second night, the party has settled down. There are still groups drinking and smoking pot. The room is cluttered with empty glasses and overflowing ashtrays that I don't feel like emptying. Off in one corner, some of the men are playing cards, poker, I think, and a few of the women are standing behind them watching. The rest of the guests are sleeping on the carpet or sofa or lounging about. Through the open door of the bedroom I can see four or five of them crowded on my bed. Except for one couple loving it up on the sofa and a few others petting and fondling each other here and there on the carpet, there is now very little sex.

I am not at all tired. But I am getting more and more bored. I smoke. I pace about the room. I want to be fucked again. But not by any of the ones I see scattered around the room. It was good enough with them last night but none of them appeal to me now. It wouldn't be enough now with any of them. I do see one young fellow though who interests me one of the first to fuck me last night. He is leaning back on the sofa in plaid, half-open boxer under shorts. His eyes are shut. I don't recall his name.

I go over to him, sit down next to him, slip my hand inside his shorts. His prick is small, very soft. I stroke it lightly, rub the head with my thumb: Nothing happens. I pump it faster. I pull up my skirt and put one of my legs across his. I rub his cock across the smooth skin of my thigh. Still nothing.

"You asleep?" I ask.

He opens his eyes, yawns. "No ..."

"I'm not having much luck getting you stiff."

"I guess not."

"Want me to eat you?"

"If you want to. But I don't know if that'd help."

"What's the matter ... don't I appeal to you?"

He laughs. "Sure ... you're a dream. But you don't think a man can screw around the clock, do you? You can suck me if you'd like to ..." He shuts his eyes again, lays back his head.

I sit up straight. "Don't do me any favors," I say. I stuff his still soft cock back into his shorts and get up and walk away.

I go out on the balcony and lean on the rail and look down at the traffic. There is a man I don't know in one of the rattan chairs but he is asleep. I smoke and stare out at the lights. I can hear the men playing cards in the living room arguing about who won the last hand. I see a light come on in the apartment, across the street. I watch the man I've seen before moving about picking up things and setting them down.

He stands in front of a dresser. I watch him take off his shirt, his pants. His cock bulges out against his shorts. I feel the trembling starting up inside me. When he steps out of his shorts. I glimpse his prick for just an instant before he pulls on his pajamas. It is not erect, not even half-erect, but my cunt begins to itch and get wet. More than it has itched from being with any of them at the party.

Then his light goes out and I am left just standing there. I light another cigarette. I look down the street as far as I can see. The lights of the buildings blur into darkness.

I crush out. my cigarette after just a few puffs and go quickly back through my apartment. Past the others playing cards and standing in small groups drinking. Past the ones sleeping on the carpet and on the couch. I go into the bedroom and dress quickly, ignoring the couples asleep on the bed. I see Rae and Mark talking with some others in the kitchen when I come out. I leave the party without saying goodbye to them or to anyone. I hurry down the stairs to the sidewalk.

I walk rapidly. Block after block down Dauphine Street. My heart begins to thud. I draw closer. I see the building. I see the lights burning in the windows on the second floor. I cross the street and enter. I climb the stairs.

I knock.

Someone opens the door.

I step inside.

"Hey, look who's here ..."

"Hi Carrie."

"Say, I remember ... You were good. But you only stayed one night."

I smile hello to the ones I recognize. They are all dressed in their costumes. Someone is adjusting the floodlights. Two others are spreading out the mats. Frank comes by carrying the tickets and the metal box. He stops for a moment, says hello, then pats me on the shoulder and walks on. I can smell grass burning. But I don't want any. I don't need any. I go up on the stage and pick out one of the chiffon dresses from a hanger. I don't pay much attention to the size. I carry it quietly back to one of the bedrooms.



Chapter 23

I stand in the center of the stage clad now only in black bikini panties. My dress is somewhere in the pile with the others on the floor.

The spotlight shines on me. Harsh. White. The music plays.

I can see the faces of the audience beyond the glare of the spotlight. I can see the glow of cigarettes and the smoke curling toward the ceiling.

The revolving colored lights turn and begin to shine on me. I am blue. I am pink. I am green. I sway my body in time with the music.

Two of the men come toward me, stand next to me. They are still fully dressed in their black suits. Each cups one of my breasts. I have rouged my nipples and they glisten red in the spotlight. The two men help me off with my panties and run their hands slowly up and down my legs.

I feel free, completely naked now. My nipples and cunt are on fire. My pussy runs rivers down my thighs.

I pick out one of the two men, undress him slowly. I pull off his shorts. I fondle his cock, then pump it until it is rigid and gleams with stickiness at the tip. I lie down on my back on one of the mats and raise my knees. I spread the lips of my pussy apart with my fingers.

He kneels between my legs, bends his head over me and begins to eat me.

I feel his teeth graze my cunt lips.

I feel his tongue poke into me.

I clutch the back of his head, pull him tighter against my cunt.

He sucks my clit. I feel his tongue against it.

I dig my heels into the mat and cum with a shudder that wracks my body. I hear the music. I hear the clapping of the others on the stage, of the ones in the audience. I cum again. I keep cuming. In time with the clapping. In time with the music. In time with the darting movements of the tongue in my cunt.

face because of the glare of the lights but I know his cock. Enormous. Swollen. Very thick. I reach out and feel its firmness, encircle the thickness with my hand: Its huge tip swells as I pump it. I am hungry for it. I want to bite it, lick it, stick the thick cream from it.

I prop myself up on an elbow and guide the head of the big cock into my mouth. I slide my lips down over it until my mouth is full. I take the heavy balls in my hands and hold them. I wish I could get them into my mouth, too.

I keep sucking hire. The first man stops eating me but in a moment I feel his cock push into my cunt. I wrap my legs around his ass and thrust up against him. He fucks me. I keep eating sucking, licking the head and shaft of the giant cock.

The prick in my cunt is hard like steel. It rubs wonderfully against the clinging folds of my cunt. It is much smaller than the cock I am eating but I lift my buttocks high off the mat and spread my thighs wide so that I can get every inch of it into me. I feel the heat of the spotlight on me. I hear the music, the clapping. Now I want to feel the prick I am eating push deep into my cunt. I want to eat the small steel prick now in my pussy. I slip the big cock out of my mouth and gesture to the men to change around.

They do.

It thrills me to begin all over again like this. The huge cock rams into my pussy. It stretches my cunt skin, almost tears it. It hurts. I love the hurt of it, the good full feeling in my belly from it. The smaller cock doesn't fill my mouth like the other one did and I am able to suck it more easily. I like the taste of it. I press my tongue against the steel-like shaft. I fuck one cock and suck the other.

The others on the stage gather about closer. Two of the girls spread out on either side of me and begin to feel and chew my breasts. I feel my hard wet nipples tingling in their mouths. The rest of them crowd over me too. I feel cool hands spread apart my buttocks, then a rigid cock pushing at my ass. I drive back against it, feel the head go in. The pain lasts just a moment, then I feel the almost unbearably exciting heat. The giant cock in my cunt keeps pushing deep into me; separated only by a thin membrane from the cock sliding in and out of my ass. I keep sucking the small prick, licking up the sticky scum that keeps oozing out its tip.

I fuck them all. With my cunt. With my mouth. With my ass. I am full of cock. Cock is inside me everywhere. But still I feel that I can't get enough of it. I wish there were another opening in my body so that someone else could stuff in his prick too. The mouths, the hands, the fingers of the others on the stage are all over me now. On my breasts; my stomach, my neck, my thighs. Kissing, licking, nibbling at me.

I love being a cunt. I love it with the music playing and the smoke and noise and clapping coming from the audience. I love being naked here on the stage with the rest of them all touching me. I suck the prick, lick it. I feel the other pricks fuck me. I am oblivious of everything but the mouths, the hands, the cocks.

I suck the cock harder, faster. I thrust and buck against the cocks in my ass and cunt. I feel the prick in my ass spurt its cream into me. I push against the big cock in my cunt. I feel its cum shoot out, too. I suck the prick in my mouth. It explodes spasm after spasm of its thick wet scum. I taste it. I swallow it. I cum with them. I cum with all of them. I want to keep on cuming ...

... oh fuck me, screw me, I need more of it. Don't take your cock out of me. Don't get up. Don't leave. Not you either. Can't you keep your prick hard awhile longer? We aren't finished, we've only just started. Can't you keep fucking me? In my cunt, in my ass, anywhere? Someone fuck me. Anyone. Eat me. Do anything. I'll eat you, suck you. Anything you want. Where are you all going? Don't leave me. Don't get up. Come back. Any of you. Come back. Don't leave me here all alone.

... say you ... you don't have to leave too, do you? Come on over here by me. That's right ... get down here next to me on the mat. They think the show is over but there's no hurry for us, is there? We have all night. Let's get you out of your pants. It's no fun with you still all dressed like that. You were in the audience in the third row, weren't you? I remember ... yes. I remember your eyes ... so open, so bright. Here, let's get your shorts off now. Mmmm, you feel so nice, your cock is so big and thick. You want me to eat you or would you rather fuck me? Fuck me ... ? All right. I can eat you later. I'll get on my back ... moue forward now ... mmm you feet so good going. in me ... push in harder, deeper ... oh, so nice now ... fuck me ... yes.



The End
