Chapter 3
I hadn't been in my office ten minutes this morning when Don Ashby called. He was very brief, insisting on taking me to lunch to discuss something important. Don had steered several good accounts our way in the past, and, of course, I agreed to meet him in front of our building at eleven-forty-five. With no appointments scheduled for today, I looked forward to knocking off in the early afternoon to go home and rest up. God, was I tired!
As I went through the morning's mail, my mind was only partially attentive to business. Thoughts about Jan kept running through my head like playful rabbits. And that was a good description of my wife, come to think of it, at least as far as yesterday was concerned .. . downright horny, ready for mounting every moment. I hadn't questioned her about her experience with Freddie Nelson Saturday night. I didn't need to. We had piled into the sheets the minute we got home and screwed continuously for several hours. I counted eight orgasms for her to one for me, thanks to Lydia who had sucked the orange dry. Awakening at noon, Jan had prepared a big breakfast and afterwards, had enticed me back to bed. As eagerly ready as a nympho, Jan smothered me with kisses, but my weary cock lay as inert as I, and soon sleep overcame me. Half an hour later, I came awake to the nibbling of lips at the swollen crown of my cock and the smell of pussy in my nostrils. Jan was stretched out alongside me, her face at my genitals, her crotch up against my cheek. "What the hell are you doing?"
She raised her face to look up at me. "Honey, I thought you enjoyed this last night with Lydia."
"Come up here," I said.
Turning around, she lay beside me, nuzzling her mouth up to my ear. "I want to do everything for you, darling, everything that gives you pleasure."
"Look, baby, that's an art, believe me. Lydia didn't become an expert by sucking lollipops."
"I can do it. Let me try."
Holding her chin, I forced her to look at me. "Have you ever gone down on a man?" She shook her head.
"Maybe sometime, later, perhaps. Meanwhile, turn over on your back. I'll give it to you where it does the most good." I hadn't completed the first stroke when she spoke.
"Jim, have you ever gone down on a woman?"
"You should know better than to ask that. If I'd ever eaten pussy in my life, I'd have eaten yours. Muff-diving's for guys with pricks smaller than their tongues. Let's keep our minds on business."
Damn that swap party. Watching that man-swallower in action on me Saturday night had certainly stirred some crazy thinking in Jan's head.
When I stepped onto the sidewalk at a quarter to twelve, Don's Jag was already parked at the curb. Seated alongside him was Helen Conrad.
"I thought this was a business lunch," I said, sliding in beside Helen and putting my arm around her shoulder.
"But what a delightful surprise to find you here." I kissed her cheek, inhaling the light fragrance of her unusual perfume.
"Don and I had some business this morning. He didn't think you'd mind my joining you for lunch."
"No indeed. Delighted, believe me."
We were moving north on Michigan in heavy traffic.
"Hope you don't mind coming up to my place, Jim. I'm expecting some calls. I've ordered steak sandwiches sent over from Giorgio's."
"Fine with me." Fine? Hell, I thought, a copy man's vocabulary should yield a word more descriptive of the way I felt. All morning I'd been dragging around the office like an old sway-backed gelding. Now, glancing at the sunny glints in Helen's red hair, and creamy flow of flesh in the cleft of her breasts, I felt like a young stallion, his nose in the wind, sniffing the scent of promise.' I had never seen Don's new place, having been out of town six months ago when he'd held open house. He had bought and remodeled an old three-story building on East Walton. The brick facade, painted light gray, had boxes of flowering plants beneath wide, latticed windows, and wrought iron carriage lamps on either side of a carved oak door. Inside, the small reception room was papered with Paris street scenes, reminiscent of Utrillo, their pale sunny color matched in the deep-pile carpeting. A young blonde, seated behind a modern desk with lines as trim as her own, greeted us with a warm smile. Handing Don a batch of telephone messages, she pressed a button at the side of her desk to release the door lock. Don held the door open for Helen and me, then turned to the receptionist. "Marcy, I'm expecting a man from Giorgio's. When he comes, send him right up to my apartment."
On the first floor, all but two load-bearing walls had been removed, and some ten artists were at work in glass-enclosed cubicles. Against the left wall was a carpeted staircase, with polished mahogany handrail supported by hand carved newel posts and balusters. Leading the way, Don paused at the second floor. "I have a small office in front here, Jim, and another one for my bookkeeper, and two spare bedrooms in back. I use these as workrooms for additional help when we're rushed. My quarters are upstairs."
"A fine -layout, Don," I commented, as Helen and I followed him. She didn't need, but seemed to like, the assisting boost I was giving her working buttocks with the palm of my right hand.
Three doors opened off the paneled hallway. Pointing to the door in the front wall, Don said, "That's my bedroom. This center one is my living room, and the one back here is my personal studio." He looked at me, his brows arched, and a wide grin on his lips. "The rooms are all connected, inside."
"I see," I said with a chuckle, "emergency exists in case of fiery husbands."
"Exactly. We'll take a quick tour. The studio first."
The room was not large, but a glass skylight slanting down to the north wall of plate glass gave it a spaciousness that was breathtaking. In the corner to my left was a compact kitchen, and closer, against the wall, a studio couch and two lounge chairs. Hanging on the walls, and stacked everywhere else, were oil canvases and large water colors. Over the studio couch, a life-like oil painting of Helen dominated the room, her nude figure stretched out on this same couch, an inviting smile on her lips and a lively sparkle in her emerald green eyes. Her breasts were large but firm, and the red of the aureoles a color match for the deltaic patch of pubic hair.
"You like?" Helen brushed my side.
I put my arm around her waist and squeezed. "Uh-uh. I love."
She leaned against me momentarily. "You will. You better be real good."
I glanced at Don who stood holding the knob of the door leading into the living room. He watched, patient and uncomplaining, as she snuggled into my arms.
"I guarantee you I'll be good."
"I'll hold you to that guarantee, don't forget."
"And, the living room," Don said, with a wave of his hand.
The room was large. Sunlight poured through the latticed windows across the front. A modern fireplace in white-painted brick centered in the wall to my left, with furniture grouped before it: a sofa in green velvet and low, tufted back, a rectangular coffee table of half-inch plate glass, and mushroom chairs at either end, covered in cotton print. At the sound of a buzzer, Don opened the door into the hallway and stood looking down over the rail. "Up here," he called.
A young man in a white coat entered, carrying a tray balanced on the upturned palm of his right hand. At Don's direction, he set the tray on the table before the fireplace.
"Thanks, Willie. We'll take care of the rest." Don signed the check and closed the door after him.
"You two help yourselves," Don said. "I have to make a phone call. I'll be with you in a minute." He entered the bedroom and closed the door.
Helen removed the covers from two of the plates, filled two small salad plates from a large bowl. "Coffee with, Jim?"
"Yes, please."
"I hope Don hurries. Cold steak's not very tasty." Helen and I were half finished before Don returned. "Damn! I'm sorry. That's Joe Coffey from St. Louis. You know the agency, Jim." "No, I don't."
"Well, he's at the Palmer House. Been trying to get me all morning. He's about to piss in his pants. You two divvy up my sandwich. I have to run."
"I'll have to go as soon as I eat," I said. "I can drop Helen off when I leave."
"Nonsense." Don smiled broadly. "You two kids make yourselves at home. I won't be home until midnight. Show him the rest of the house, Helen."
"You mean the bedroom?" She giggled.
"What else?" He turned at the door to wave and was gone.
I set the fork and knife on my plate, and looked up at her. She held the coffee cup to her lips with both hands, and crinkled her nose.
"You better eat that other steak, honey. You're going to need it."
I thought of Jan and our four blissful years together, then I recalled the oil painting of this luscious redhead I had just seen. I tried to laugh, but the shrill nervous noise I made startled me. "So this is the business Don had in mind?"
"Not Don," she said softly. "This was my idea. I was afraid I'd have to wait weeks or even months before those damned dice or cards the group uses in pairing up people would come right for me." She leaned forward, her eyes wide and questioning. "Well?"
All thoughts of Jan faded. I stood up, held a hand out to her. "What the hell are we waiting for?"
Rising, she led me to the bedroom door, turned the knob and stood aside for me to enter. "My God!" I gasped. There were no doors, no windows, and no furniture, except a huge circular bed, covered with a white nylon sheet. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling with mirrors; the entire ceiling was mirrored. The floor was overlaid in pale blue carpeting, thick and self-patterned. As Helen closed the door behind her, soft lights came up, pale and pink as dawn. She turned her back to me, pointing a finger to the top of her zipper. She smiled at me impishly in the mirror on the back of the door.
"I love to go to bed in this room. I can watch every ripple in every muscle." She stepped out of her dress and slipped off her shoes, leaving her with nothing on but a pair of panty-hose and a brassiere. I gaped like a peeping-tom. Pressing one of the mirrors, she pushed it in as a swinging panel, to reveal a deep closet lined with men's suits and jackets. I was still standing as she hung her dress on a hanger. "Good Lord! Jim, are you going to make love to me with your clothes on?"
"Hell, no." I chuckled. "I'm still in shock." As I started to undress, she walked over to the wall next to the stairwell.
"The bathroom's in here," she said, pushing a mirrored panel. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she removed her panty-hose, then leaned over and unclasped her brassiere.
Damn! She's lovely, I thought, regarding her nakedness stretched out on the bed. In another minute, I was undressed and lay down beside her. She rolled into my arms in a passionate embrace and her tongue darted into my mouth as our lips met. The fingers of her left hand flew up and down my back, grabbed my buttock, then slid quickly over my hip to clasp my swelling cock.
"Mmm!" She purred. "I've been wanting to get my hands on this ever since he poked black and blue spots on my thigh at the dance last Wednesday night." She was sliding the crown of it up and down in her oozing slit.
"Put it in, baby," I said hoarsely, thrusting my cock forward, but missing the hole as she pulled her ass back.
She pulled away from me, rolling over twice, then sitting up. Frown lines grooved her forehead as she looked at me, surprise in her wide-opened eyes. "You act like a boy going after his first piece of tail."
I sat up. I could feel the flush spreading over my face. Damn her, I thought, tempted to rise, dress, and leave her. "I've never had any complaints."
"You won't have any from me, either. I'm no quick lay. I. . . " "Quick?" I snorted. "When I sink this cock of mine into you, you'll be blowing off for two hours straight."
"If, a big IF, you do." Her palms moved over the firm mounds of her breasts, down across the flat planes of her belly, in gentle caress, until her fingertips moved in a light ballet through her pubic hair. In the mirrors of the ceiling and walls, I watched with growing excitement, the alluring love dance of her hands over her silhouetted curves.
"Nobody lays me, honey, nobody . . . until he's loved every inch of me." She stared at me, while her hands moved slowly over her body. "Every inch of me, understand?"
Shit! I thought, regarding her intently while I tried to stifle my anger, if she thinks I'm going to start eating pussy to earn the privilege of laying her, she's crazy.
"Okay, honey," I said, "I'm sorry I was pushy. You're so damned lovely, I lost control of myself. Lie down, and let's see what we can do about it." I certainly wasn't going to eat it, but I could get her so excited, she'd beg me to bury it in her.
"Ah! Jim, darling," she said softly as she lay down, her face on my thigh and her lips kissing the weeping crown of my throbbing cock. "Love your baby, love me, make me scream with delight, love every inch of me."
Kneeling beside her, I bent over, my lips nibbling at her eyes, ears, and cheeks while my fingertips trailed around the outlines of her breasts. Her left hand worked in the hair at the back of my neck, her right up and down the insides of my thighs, the fingers pausing to tickle my scrotum, then moving to my twitching rectum, leaving a tingling trail of fire. My lips were warm, wet and alive as they moved down to her breasts to feast on her delicate, sweet-scented flesh. Around the darker pink circled aureoles, my tongue brushes stiff wet strokes, hardening the center buds into tiny mounds twitching at my lips and eliciting a throaty hum of pleasure, exciting to my ear.
The palms of her hands touch my cheeks and she kisses me lightly. "Oh, darling! That feels so good. Do my back first, please." She rolls over and I marvel at the perfection of her lines, the rounded mounds of her ass-cheeks. "Kiss me, darling, tongue me all over. I love it."
For the first time in my life, I find the taste, the scent, the warm softness of a woman's flesh raising prickles of delight all over me as I licked and nibbled at her shoulders, back and buttocks, licking at the base of her spine again and again, thrilling at the involuntary spasms of muscular reaction accompanied by her squeals of delight. Raising a leg over my head, she turned onto her back and I found myself kneeling between her legs. I bent over to nibble at her nipples, nose down into her perfumed cleft and tongue my way slowly and tantalizingly over the velvety smoothness of her belly, warmly kiss and nuzzle her navel, down, down, until my nose hovered over the thin patch of crinkly red hair. My hands slid under her buttocks.
This isn't the first time I've kissed cunt, I told myself, and decided to nuzzle it just long enough to feel her passionate response. Her knees were raised and widespread, as I cupped the soft flesh of her ass-cheeks. Her hands slid over her pubic mound, and her long fingers separated the thick outer lips, while she hummed and moaned in joyous anticipation. "Mmm! Kiss it, lover. Love it, lover." I stared in wondrous fascination at the opened slit, the lips, gorged, their passionate red contrasting to the pale opal of her long fingernails. At the top of the slit, her thumbs spread the bedewed folds, her clitoris tightened up like a stiff mini-prick. Although I had massaged the head of my cock in female genitalia many times, I had never examined one close up. "Love it, love it," she cried huskily, raising her pubes up to my lips. I looked up the slope of her belly to the firm mounds of breasts. The scent of her cunt was a clean, compelling aphrodisiac in my nostrils. Her fingers twined in my hair, pulling my face into her dewey slit.
I felt the hardened tissue of her joybud slide off the bridge of my nose, and I found surprisingly pleasant the taste of her juices, the warm, soft tenderness of her internal tissues. M palms moved around her hips to the smooth plane of her belly, and I drew her up closer to my working lips and tongue. Momentarily I paused, astonished to find myself in this position, but it was a pleasure and a delight I had too long denied myself.
Through the red fuzz of her pubic hair I glanced at her face, eyes staring vacantly upwards, lips open and contorted. I buried my tongue as deeply as it would go, then laved the lips up to the top folds, nosing these aside to uncover the hidden little hard-on, tonguing around and around, my head swinging in rhythm with the gyration of her hips, my hair clutched in her fingers, which pulled my working mouth into her oozing slit . . . her movement stopped for an instant, and I peered up through her tangled brush to see her eyes wide, her mouth opened as a mournful cry pierced the quiet.
Then her head jerked and her belly muscles spasmed as her hips rolled and rotated. My lips opened and my mouth sucked every drop of her passion's distillation. For the first time, I tasted the strange, semi-sweetness of a woman's juice. I held my opened mouth to the warmth of her wet slit, draining off every last drop, waiting till the last pulsing throb of her tissues died away. And, as I set her buttocks down gently on the bed, I marveled that I had never tried it before.
I lay down beside her, as spent as though I had spilled my semen seven times over. For several minutes, she lay quiet, breathing deeply. Then she leaned over to kiss my mouth, licking my lips.
"Well, honey," I said, running my fingers through her long hair, "how'd you like it?"
"Marvelous, darling, just marvelous." She rubbed her nose against mine. "I'm already looking forward to next time."
Running my tongue as far as it would reach around outer edges of my lips, I savored the remnants of her slick, mucous deposit. "Sure has a strange taste and consistency." "You like?" She grinned. "Yes. I like. I didn't think I would." She sat up, looking down at me with startled eyes. "You mean you never did before? Really?" "That was the first time I ever ate cunt in my life." She threw herself on me, kissing my cheeks, ears, lips. "Oh, you darling, Jim. I never suspected." She cocked her head to regard me quizzically. "Not even for Jan? You never went down on her?"
I had forgotten all about Jan and I closed my eyes at the mention of her name. "No," I said thoughtfully, "no, I'm sorry to say, not even for Jan."
"Jim, honey, I'm going to the bathroom for a few minutes. I'll take care of this huge, handsome cock of yours when I get back." She leaned down and kissed the crown of it. "Oh, you lovely thing, you. And how I'll take care of you.
The telephone rang.
"I'll answer it," she said, reaching back of the bed and bringing the receiver up to her ear. "Yes? Oh, he's out in the kitchen. Just a minute, I'll get him." Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, she said, "It's for you, Jim. Don told me to be sure to tell you to call Milt Hubbard. I'm sorry I forgot." She held the phone for a ten count, then handed it to me.
"Hello?"
"Jim? This is Milt. Didn't Don tell you to call me?" "Yes, he did, Milt. I'm sorry, we got to talking, and ..."
"No harm done. It's two o'clock, and I'm leaving the office for an appointment. If you're free for lunch tomorrow, I'd like to have you come out around noon. Our advertising needs looking into and I thought you folks might like to take a preliminary shot at it."
"Fine, Milt. Be glad to. Shall I come straight to your plant? At noon? Fine. I'll be there." I handed the receiver back to her. "How about that?"
"Good news?"
"Could be . .. real good." I lay back and clasped my hands behind my neck. Coincidence couldn't possibly explain the concurrence of two such events in one afternoon, I thought-Don's arranging my frolic with Helen, and Milt's phoning an invitation to look into his company's advertising account. Of course, I said to myself, the smell of their connivance was as sensible as the scent of pussy in my nostrils-they both wanted a shot at my wife and both feared we would leave the group after our first experience. in their swap game. This was too obviously a double-baited hook. So far I had enjoyed nibbling and had found the bait very tasty indeed.
"Jim, honey," Helen broke into my thoughts. "Don told me to be sure to tell you another thing I forgot. Fred and Lydia Nelson have left the group. We have a new couple to take their place as soon as all the members have agreed on them."
"Baby, at the moment I couldn't care less. I have a bag full that's going to give me a king-sized nut ache if I don't blow it."
She giggled, leaned over and ran her tongue around the head of my semi-stiff prick. "If you have the time, lover, I want to give you the works this afternoon. First, I want to suck the innards out of this lollipop, then I want you to lay me double in hearts. Okay?"
"You named the game, baby, get with it."
"I have to pee. Back in a minute."
As she closed the bathroom door behind her, I picked up the phone and called my secretary. She informed me there were no messages and no mail, and I asked her to call Jan and tell her I was stuck with an out-of-town client whose airport bus left at nine. "Will do, boss," she said lightly, "have fun." I hung up, thankful that Jan would accept this second-hand message in good grace-hell, come to think of it, I never had cheated on her before this.
"At ease, master," Helen breathed softly as she knelt beside me. "Your houri is about to raise you to the Moslem Paradise."
At the first stroke of her tongue, light as plumed smoke, over the nerve center at the juncture of chest and right shoulder, I relaxed completely physically, but came mentally alert, determined to remember and catalog for future use every move of this woman's felicity. As her lips and tongue trail light as gossamer across my chest, pausing unerringly over nerves that tingle into joyous arousal at their loving touch,
I cannot help but feel abashed at my childish ignorance of the infinite variety of erotic- delights available to the initiate. Ah! I think, as her subtle tongue piques belly muscles into spasms of delight, what joys I shall bring to my Jan as a result of this girl's lesson in the art of making love. I roll over on my belly at the gentle urging of her lips and fingers and I lie entranced by the spell of her mouth and tickling trail of her hair up and down the sensitive skin of my back, over my buttocks, down the inside of one thigh and one calf, over to the other, and up, up, her nose nuzzling into the crack of my ass, her breath warm and exciting, and her fingertips spin me over on my back ...
I look down to see my cock standing like a rounded stump, rising above the top of her head, and I feel her lips nibbling into my groin beside my balls, up and down the tender skin of my thigh, skipping over to the other thigh, mouthing up to my groin, and her nose sniffing into the hair, snorting her delight as I moan my pleasure . . . her tongue moves over the crinkled skin of my scrotum, up to the base of my cock, and two fingers steady it with delicate touch, as she kisses her way wetly up the underside of it, to open her mouth wide and enclose the throbbing bulbous crown.
Her hands slide under my buttocks to slither up across my belly and I feel her tongue lapping around the coronal ridge, pausing to titillate the underside of the foreskin, her lips then closing tight around it and her teeth gently biting as she gobbles it inch by inch up into her mouth, sucking, biting, nibbling, sucking as fire gathers throughout my body and I tense, feeling her fingers working in my belly flesh and fires flame all through me roaring up from my legs down from my chest my back my belly burning their way fiercely into the crack of my ass and up the length of my pulsing penis, exploding into the fire of her mouth sucking - ooh! ooh! Take it, take it all, honey!
"Sonovabitch!" I exclaimed weakly.
"What's the matter, lover?" Helen slid up beside me.
"Damn! You must have drawn off a month's supply, baby. I won't get another hard-on till ..."
"Sissy! I bet we have him standing up like an SDS speaker at a campus rally in less than a half hour. Wanna bet?" Her lips opened over mine and her tongue probed stiffly into my mouth, salting it with traces of viscous film.
"No bet, hell no. I will bet you'd raise a hard-on on every stiff in the morgue, just walking through."
We lie for five or ten minutes, nuzzling each other; nibbling at ears and eyes and lips, trailing fingertips over breasts and bellies and buttocks. She throws one knee over my belly and rises to kneel, facing me. Squatting on her heels, I feel the crack of her ass spread wetly over my pubic hair, wriggle back on my limp cock. Shaking her head, she smiles sadly. "He's still asleep." Moving one knee forward a few inches, then the other, her pussy leaves a wide wet trail on my belly. My hands cup her breasts as she moves closer.
Her knees are close to my armpits now and she spreads her legs wider, sways to her left and squats over the nipple of my right side, twitching the lips of her cunt on it. . . "Now we've had that part of you in me," then she sways to her right and squats over the nipple of my left side . . . "and that part of you inside me." As she straightens up, my hands come down between her thighs and turn to palm her buttocks. Her mound is inches from my face and my hands pull it up to my mouth . .. "And now," I mutter through a mouthful of hair, "you have this part of me in you again."
She wriggles forward an inch or two. I look up as her slit lowers and I open my mouth and extend my tongue eagerly to lap the glistening nectar. Her cries of ecstatic joy are muffled by the pressure of her thighs. My nose and mouth are snug against the arch of her vulval tissues and through crinkly brush, I see the taut plane of her belly rise to the firm mounds of her breasts, centered by the pink buds of her paps, and above and between them, the wrench of passion in her twisted lips. For an instant, I catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror overhead, the cascade of red hair over her shoulders, the downward slope of her breasts, the working of her buttocks above my chest, and my own elongated nakedness with a thick, stiff cock angling up out of a patch of dark underbrush. Then all this disappears as the arch of her wet slit slides forward, covering even my eyes in vulval folds.
feel entombed in the womb of time, breathless, marking her tense pause at the peak, then, with open mouth and working lips, welcoming the copious spate of her juices as she savagely thrashes out her sexual release. Her tremors cease, but I hold her over me, loathe to let a drop of this precious nectar escape my thirsting mouth. My lips widen in a smile that touches her tender tissues-I have become an expert cunt-lapper in one easy lesson-and I love it!
"Come on, darling, stand up." Helen is standing beside the bed.
"No. You come lie down. Look at this big stiff prick of mine."
"Come on, please, darling. Try it my way for a change." She extends a hand and drags me to my feet. Throwing her arms about my neck, she kisses me with passionate, working lips, and leaps up in my arms, her legs encircling my hips. "Put it in, honey."
"Like this?" I ask incredulously.
"Try it. Just this once." She pushes her belly away from mine, takes hold of my cock, wetting the crown of it thoroughly in her soaking slit. After several tries, she manages to engorge the head of it with her cuntal lips. I feel her sphincter muscle close tight around it, then relax as she slowly settles down on it. My palms are under her ass-cheeks, supporting her weight.
"Now what do we do?"
"Silly! Have fun, that's what."
She must have a million little muscles up there, I think, as I feel them clutching, then releasing, like a musician's fingers playing expertly along the length of my organ.
"Carry me over close to the wall, honey."
With each stiff-legged step I take, I feel my hard cock move into every cranny of her vaginal barrel, hear the squashy sound of it pressuring in and out of her succulent cunt.
"That's close enough. Now, turn your back to the mirror, and hold the small of my back. I want to lean way-back."
"Careful, you nut," I warned, "you'll break it off in you.
"Whee! This is fun. Bend over, honey. Spread your legs more. There!" Her head was on the floor, off to her right side, and her eyes were staring into the mirror.
"Well, what the hell is so interesting?"
"Your asshole, darling. Wink at me."
"What the hell! Let's get in bed and do this right." I pulled her back up in my arms.
"Wait, please. Come like this once. You'll like it. We'll do it your way next time."
I stood there, supporting her buttocks, feeling her nipples hard against my chest, her lips working over my cheeks and mouth, her legs taking purchase on my hips as she raised herself up on the shaft of my cock, then lowered herself.. . the weirdest sensation I had ever experienced. We came at the same instant, with moans and wild cries somehow timed to the crazed rhythm of her bouncing, wriggling, jouncing ass.
She kissed me when her buttocks finally came to rest. "Leave him in, darling, and carry me into the shower."
Half an hour later, on the sidewalk outside, I offered to buy her dinner, hoping she'd refuse. She laughingly refused when she noticed me glance at my watch. "What time's your next train, Jim?"
"Nine-ten. I can't make that. I'll see you home in a taxi."
"You have fifteen minutes. You run along. I'll take this cab myself. I had a wonderful time. We'll do it again, real soon."
I held her in my arms, pressing her head into my shoulder and inhaling the delicate scent of her rare perfume, a perfect complement to her personality. "I love that scent."
"It's a new fragrance by Patou." She kissed me. "It's called Joy."
As the cab drove away, I thought, Joy! A perfect summary of a perfect day.