Chapter 11
It was too much. Marcie felt the ecstatic thrill of her climax as Paula's tongue continued to lave her vagina, from the hot, damp walls to the pebble hard clit, the tongue lashed until the cunt climaxed, and all the time her body shuddered and bubbled her release the tongue joined in to double the pleasure.
Then they changed places, and Marcie's mouth went to her friend's cunny and she sucked the other girl to twitching joy.
Ripples of pleasure still flowed through Marcie's white lovely body as she lay entwined with the sleeping Paula, both girls still naked. The knowledge that a woman's body and a woman's touch could give her box pleasure as intense as she got from any man troubled Marcie. She was learning things from her recent sex experiences that were contrary to everything she had been taught. Her affair with Rudy had resulted in shattering disillusionment, but it had also given her knowledge and experience. She knew now that her body could thrill to the touch of more than one man, and that she didn't have to love the man to enjoy being fucked by him.
Marcie slid her lovely breasts from Paula's embrace and sat up on the bed. A tear slid down her cheek and she shivered. She felt that she was in a state of complete emotional chaos. She didn't know quite what she wanted, but she thought it would be best to leave Paula's flat. She would get a place of her own she thought as she dressed, and try to straighten out her life.
As she finished packing, she thought about what had happened when she was in bed with Paula, the sucking of each other's cunts, and specifically what her own reactions had been at the time. She was amazed now that she sfiould have responded passionately to the other woman. But she had, and she had also put her lips to the other girl's vulva and mouthed the pulsating pussy to a come. Well, that went to prove, she supposed, that Paula had been right about what she had said. The human body apparently didn't know or care whose hand caressed it or whether the hand belonged to a man or a woman. Paula did have a remarkable touch. Marcie had to give her credit for that.
After casting one final glance at the sleeping lesbian, Marcie moved silently from the room, a suitcase clutched in each hand. Riding the lift to the deserted lobby, then waiting for the called cab to arrive, she continued to be troubled by what had happened upstairs. Though she continually told herself that her response to Paula hadn't meant a thing, as far as her basic nature was concerned, she couldn't let the matter rest. She had gotten down on another girl, mouthed her pussy and had her own reamed. B^t it was just an experience. She was no actual lesbian, like Paula. Or was she?
Alone in the elaborate flat which he had rented for Marcie and himself, and which he had selected with an eye for its suitability as a kind of workshop for the girl, Rudy Nichols lay in bed unable to sleep.
The discovery which he had made late that afternoon, that Marcie had packed her things and walked out on him, had been a shock, and it had bothered him a good deal at the time. He was troubled not so much by the loss of Marcie, as by the loss of the investment of time and money which he had made in her.
by now, however, he had adjusted.
Rudy always bounced back quickly. There was no sense in brooding over things. If one investment or promotion didn't pay off, he would find another. That was the way he always had lived, and the wisdom of this attitude had proved itself many times over.
So his thoughts at that moment concerned themselves with the matter of locating another girl to take Marcie's place as a fucking machine for horny males. Now that he had the flat with the rent paid on it for a whole month, he would have to make use of the place. Anyway, getting at least one girl to work for him was a smart idea. That way he'd have a steady source of revenue he could count on while he went about the business of developing something else.
That Marcie. He couldn't put her out of his mind completely without entering one last wistful sense of regret. She was a rare piece. What a pair of titties. Ard her skin, her eyes, her lips, all of her was enticing as the devil. She would have made him a bagful of loot with her sweet, delectable cunt that every chap had to stick his dick into and cream the walls with his come. His cock rose at the memory of her sweet pussy.
She could have made a lot for herself, too. Now he supposed, she would be back working in a bank again. What an irony, making a small change wage for handling someone else's pounds and pence, when she could just as well have been raking in the big notes for herself, with half going to him, of course.
But there would be another female who'd be willing to fuck for money.
He would have to get out first thing in the morning and start scouting around. London attracted pretty girls like a garbage dump drew flies. So he shouldn't have any trouble. But he figured it would take a little time to develop a worthwhile prospect. With Marcie, he'd been well on his way.
He thought about tomorrow. First he would check the tea parlors and stores. They would be better than pubs for what he had in mind. He didn't want to hook up with a hardened professional sort of girl, and he certainly didn't want a lush. The innocentlooking kind was the best. They produced the best return. Guys who paid for the pleasure got a particular boot out of fucking a girl who looked like the one who lived next door, only prettier.
That kind could be found. The trains and busses unloaded a new crop every day.
It took Marcie several days to screw up her courage to the point where she could attempt the test she had been considering ever since the seemingly disastrous evening she had spent with Paula Wilkenson.
More mundane matters had to be taken care of first.
After occupying a room near the financial section for one night, she went out and rented a flat. The place was nothing like the one Rudy had rented for her, but it would do. One room with a pull-down bed, a dressing alcove, kitchenette and bath was all it amounted to. But the building seemed respeotable and the location was close to several banks (one of which she hoped, would furnish her a job), and the furnishings of the flat were presentable, if somewhat worn. Best of all, the rent was only eight pounds a month. Though Rudy hadn't told her what he had paid for the "palace" he had rented for them, she supposed the amount was more than double what her flat cost.
And, disturbingly, she dreamed of other 153 things, as well. She dreamed of Paula Wilkenson. And other girls.
All of these girls had exciting fingertips disturbing lips, and a simply marvelous way about them which sent Marcie into raptures of bliss. Each girl knew how to put her face to Marcie's cunt, between wide-stretched thighs, to put their mouths and tongues deep between those pink, wet lips of hers
These dreams had the effect upon her conscious state of urging her to hurry up with the test she had planned. Now the matter of knowing the truth about hersel had become a burning necessity, and she knew that the only way she could find out the truth was to go to bed with a man.
Still, she held off as long as she could. All of her background and upbringing argued against the casual treatment of passion. To share a bed without love had always been immoral in her view.
So going to bed with another man would no increase the total measure of her sin very much. And it would serve the purpose of letting her find out about herself once and for all, whether it was a man's prick and his ho sperm only which thrilled her, or a woman's inverted sexing she craved.
She was troubled by the fact that she didn't respond in the least, the last time Lou had laid her, whereas a day later she had gone wild under the mouthing of another woman upon her pussy.
So, she had to know. And screwing with a man was the only way of finding out.
Though she had confidence in her appearance and in her appeal to men, she had never tried to pick one up before, and the prospect frightened her a little. But she steeled herself and tried to consider the best way to go about the task.
A movie house?
No. She wouldn't be able to get a good look at the man who would sit down beside her, and she certainly wasn't going to be picked up by just anyone.
A pub?
She wasn't much of a drinker. She had never, as a matter of fact, been in one alone. She wasn't sure she would know how to act. She didn't want to risk the embarrassment of being looked upon as if she were a prostitute.
A large chemist's fountain, she thought. That would be innocent enough, and she would probably meet a little better class of man there.
Yes. She would try that first.
This decided, she got dressed and left her flat, her heart pounding more loudly than usual. She was all aflutter. She wondered how much of this excitement was due to the prospect of being fucked and how much was plain nervousness over doing something she had never done before.
There was a little restaurant half-a-block away. She decided to try that.
This didn't prove necessary, however.
Opportunity presented itself right there on the street, and it was in the person of a very good-looking man. He was about thirty, neatly dressed and he had a pleasant, clean-looking face. He was seated on a bench at a bus stop and, as she approached, his eyes surveyed her full busts and rounded sexy ass.
He didn't look at her in a horny way, as if he were enjoying a secret rape. His eyes were frankly admiring and friendly.
Marcie acted on a sudden impulse.
She walked to the bench and sat down beside him.
The two of them were alone. Still, it took the man several minutes to speak to her. All that time, she was worried that a bus might come along and she would have to board it, or else let it appear to anyone watching that she was a girl on the make.
Maybe she was, but she didn't like the idea of carrying a sign.
If she had glanced at the man a few times, then smiled when she caught his eyes, he probably would have responded right away. But she hadn't been able to do that.
Finally he solved her dilemma by saying, "Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
Well, he wasn't very original. But this was all right. A slick approach wasn't what she wanted.
She turned to him. "Yes, it is." Now she smiled, putting enough effort behind it to overcome her embarrassment.
"It's a pity not to have a date on a nice night like this," the man said. "But it looks as if I'll have to have dinner and the theater all by myself."
He obviously was fishing. It was easy for Marcie to reply. "I'm afraid my dinnerdate stood ms up."
"You haven't had dinner, either?"
She looked at him, heart fluttering. "No."
The man beamed. He was very masculine looking, had an aura of virility.
His name was Carl Roberts, he told her, adding, "Call me Carl."
She gave him her correct name, of course. There was no reason not to. He had a pleasant way about him, a shy, but very sincere smile, and a way of talking that showed he had intelligence. Better yet, he seemed to respect her. There was nothing cheap about his attitude. At the same time, Marcie had no doubt that he was thinking about the delights of inserting his hot, hard dick inside her cunt and his come pleasure inside her. Only a fairy could not desire to fuck her.
She was afraid that he might not make the move if she didn't prod him, though. He probably feared a rebuke, and, anyway, figured she was not a girl who could be rushed that fast.
When dinner was over, he said, "Well, can I interest you in a movie? I can buy a paper, if you like, and we can look over the listings."
She could see that he was hanging on every word she uttered. She dropped the clincher: "If you have television at your place, maybe we could go there."
"Sure. A pleasure." He hadn't been able to announce his acceptance fast enough to suit him. The words had tumbled over one another.
He paid the check, they left the restaurant.
They walked to his flat which was right around the corner.
The place was neat, as Marcie had expected it to be, and no more fancy than you would expect in the case of a man living alone.
He turned his set on right away. He seemed to know that television wasn't what she was interested in, however. As Marcie had decided earlier, he wasn't stupid. Once they were in the secure familiar surroundings of his apartment, he didn't waste any time going after her.
This was what she wanted, but as the fatal moment of discovery drew nearer she found that she was tensing up.
He offered her some fine wine, and she gratefully accepted.
That helped.
by the time his advances had reached a serious stage, she had a little glow. She was in as favorable a frame of mind as could be expected, she believed, and the man was as attractive as any casual pick-up could be. This meant the test should be a reliable one.
Somehow the thought frightened her, and she was almost on the point of getting up and running out of his flat.
But she didn't.
She had to go through with what she had started. She had to find out the truth. Did that lesbian cunnilingus she and Paula practiced upon each other blot out the desire of being humped by a man's organ, or was it just a physical passion of the moment?
Roberts made it easy for her, taking command the way a virile, sex-anticipating male should. His technique lacked the smoothness of Rudy's, but there could be no question about his mounting excitement. Carl was wild for her. She could see his penis stiff in his trousers.
After a few minutes of necking on his couch, the TV was forgotten and he began the exploratory motions which men usually indulged, such as feeling a girl up.
Marcie let him open her blouse. As his fingers worked at her big, exciting tits, she felt a certain excitement, but it was too early to tell if this was erotic in character or just nervousness.
He began to polish her swollen bubbies through the thin material of her bra, moving his palm in a circular way and going from one globe to the other. Her nipples were stirring. Marcie could feel them stiffen against the bra fabric.
This didn't convince her. She remembered what Paula Wilkenson had said about the body's inability to distinguish between one 160 person's hand and another's.
She would need more substantial proof.
She dropped a hand to Carl's crotch and drew a quick gulp of breath. Oh, yes. She began to caress his prancing peter, throbbing urgently in his trousers.
Carl proceeded with the removal of her blouse and she moved to help him.
As soon as he had gotten rid of her blouse, he kept her leaning forward so that he could unfasten her titty-taut brassiere. He had a little trouble with that, proving he hadn't unbrassiered a great many girls' breasts.
He managed, however, and lifted Marcie's bra away from the tender treasures it had concealed, and the lovely knockers jiggled their big scarlet tips up and down.
Carl stared at a close-up display of naked tittie beauty which exceeded anything he had seen for a long while...if ever. Slowly almost reverently, he moved his hot hands to her breasts. He took the bare beauties in his grasp...hefting, squeezing very gently, moving his thumbs back and forth across their thrusting rubbery tips.
Then he lunged forward.
Marcie gasped as he put his hot mouth to her naked breast tips.
When she felt her right nipple being tor tured by eager lips, then she waited expectantly for a response. But she seemed to know that she wasn't going to respond, at least not the way she used to.
What she felt was a certain revulsion.
This man who was with her was nice. He was attractive and he was gentle. But he was a man. She found herself thinking of Rudy, and of Lou Phillips. Rudy and Lou. Rudy and Lou. She hated Carl, too. "No," she said weakly. He didn't hear her.
She tried to pull his head away from the bare tit which he was avidly loving. He didn't budge.
She gave up and lay back against the couch. Let him finish she decided. That was the only thing to do. She had wanted a test and a thorough test was what she would have. She couldn't be soiled any more than she already had been, all the way, his cock ramming her cunt, finishing with his hot spermal pleasure inside her vagina.
After awhile he moved from one breast to the other. As he settled his warm humid clasp about her second nipple, she felt his hand on her arm, moving to take her own hand in his grasp. He carried her hand to his erect peter.
Her impulse was to hold back, but why should she do that? let him get through quickly. That was the only sensible thing. She found herself taking the same attitude toward Carl that she had taken toward Lou Phillips on that disastrous afternoon several days ago.
She moved her hand. After awhile she pulled Carl's zipper.
Her hand moved and caressed the hard, swollen cock, the back of her hand pressing against his clothing.
She caressed him much more easily now, first the upcurving shaft, then the testes and even his anus.
Still she didn't respond, although his cock did.
She thought of what Paula had said about her state of mind when she was with a man. She had said she thought about her next day's appointment at the beauty shop. The same was true of Marcie herself right then.
Carl was thinking far different thoughts indeed.
Leaving her breasts now, he began to pull at her skirt and slip, trying to draw them up.
"Let me," Marcie told him and got to her feet.
He stared, loose-lipped, at the bounce and quiver of her naked titties as she moved, unfastening her skirt and stripping the garment down.
He got to his feet as well, and he began tearing at his own clothes, working his things down around his throbbing outthrusting shaft.
Marcie decided to go all the way. She didn't relish the idea of his fingers fiddling around her panties, or fumbling with the garter clasps which held her hose. Standing directly in front of him, she whisked her panties down. Then she bent, naked breasts swaying, and released her garters.
Carl was tremendously excited by the time he had rid himself of his clothing. This showed in his eyes, in the looseness of his mouth, and in more positive ways, as well. Marcie tried not to look at his huge prick standing out from its bush roots, the big balls beneath, swollen with fuck-lust. When she was entirely nude, she asked, "Do you have a bed?"
"Yes, indeed," he mumbled hoarsely. "You have to open that door." After saying this, he sprang to do the job himself, his huge, pulsating prick-end weaving up and down like a jack handle. The bed swung into view and he let it down. It was neatly made. She climbed onto the bed almost immedi ately, positioning herself in the classic way. Carl followed her, accepting the invitation.
He obviously didn't require any more buildup. His cock was so hard that the long crescent curve of it was smoking hot and the tip of the throbbing knob gleamed in purple-scarlet glory. The pee-hole was parted due to its swollen size and a white seminal drop oozed from the glistening tip.
Carl moved to her,, touched, and held her cunt lips with his cock-head.
She made a little sound, but this was prompted by the exertion against her body rather than by passion. She felt no passion for the man at all.
Carl moved, too excited to wait. He began to hump and pump.
She moved too, at first from habit, and then from a realization that he would be angry and disappointed with her if she didn't. She recalled what Paula had said about putting on a show with a man. Well, Marcie could put on a show as well as anyone.
He moved faster and faster. Marcie kept pace, her hot wet passage pulled and tugged wetly up and down the length of his inserted peter.
Now he was moving so quickly that she knew he was about to finish at any moment. One of his hands crept around the upthrust quivering mound of her left breast and squeezed very hard. Marcie made a sound which could very well have been inspired by passion (but wasn't), and she pressed herself closer, shaking wildly. With Carl groaning at the hot slick contact.
The test was ended with a series of hot gushing spurts as his emptying prick ejected) a fiery shower of pulsing semen far up her cunny passage.
As Carl moved from her, she might almost have yawned.
Since she had no desire to remain with him any longer, she immediately began to dress. He sat on the edge of the bed, nude, and watched for awhile. Then he got up and pulled on his shorts over his now limp dong. His trousers followed. Dressed this way, hej walked to where his coat was hanging over the back of. a chair. Marcie, smoothing her nylons, glanced at him inquisitively.
She saw him remove his wallet from an inside pocket.
A tremor of shock touched her. Then, inexplicably to her conscious mind, she had a different reaction altogether.
Carl walked over, holding the wallet in his hand. "How much?" he wanted to know. She had been too abrupt with him, both in coming up to the flat and in getting dressed after they'd had their little bout. Also, the entire affair had been to joyless. Money had seemed to be called for, and Carl was doing what the circumstances had indicated.
The peculiar thing was that this now seemed right to Marcie, too. Why not take the money? He had benefited and she hadn't. Aryway, there was something deep inside of her which impelled her to accept his offer. She wanted to take the money from him. She wanted to deplete his meager wallet as she had depleted his not-so-meager cock.
"She didn't know how much to as for so she said, "Three quid."
"You were worth that," the man said without a smile and handed the money to her.
She stared at it for a moment. Then she [enclosed it in the palm of her hand and walked to her purse. A strange giddiness thrummed her.
You made him pay, a little voice told her. He paid for Rudy and for Lou and for the others. From now on they're all going to pay to shove their cocks inside my hole. No man is going to shoot his hot lust juices inside me for free.
"Funny," Carl Roberts said from behind her, "but I thought you were different. When I saw you at that bus stop, and later in the restaurant, I thought you were a real nice girl." He laughed a little. "Just shows I haven't been around much, I suppose."
"I guess so," Marcie replied. She had to restrain herself from giving in to a sudden impulse to laugh out loud.
Leaving Carl's apartment, Marcie felt elated and dejected at once. She exulted in her new roll of conqueror but was frustrated by loneliness and thought of herself as abandoned, though it was she who had left Paula.
Marcie was heartsick with confused thoughts] and the more thought she gave it the more confused she became. Introspection was never: one of her strong points. But even in this condition of physical lethargy, Marcie's body continued to move with sensual grace, her hips switching invitingly, her breasts springing just slightly, resiliently, in time to the tap of her heels.
The few men she passed either turned or did a triple-take, cursing themselves for their lack of courage, or for the appoint ment they must keep, or for the dinner waiting for them at their homes. Her mood was such that now as she approached a pub, she decided to stop in for a drink. It was a neighborhood spot, clean and nicely appointed. She sat and waited for the bartender. "I wonder if I could buy the lady a drink?" Marcie turned and stared at a good-looking man in his middle thirties, nicely dressed and slightly high: the neighborhood romantic, taking this night to play hooky from home. She was about to reject him but changed her mind, deciding it would be better to talk than to think. "I'm drinking gin," she said. ; "I'm Harry Saunders," the would-be gay Lothario introduced himself. After the third drink, Harry had propositioned Marcie and she had impulsively taken him to her place to fuck for him and I see what else. When they were alone he had embraced her hungrily, squeezing her breasts so hard through her bra, that Marcie was the one who suggested that they take off r their things. Harry was short, but heavy-set and muscular with the florid complexion of the heavy drinker. As Marcie glanced down she no ticed that while he might be small in stature he certainly was every inch a man, and then some in the penis department. His cock when hard was fantastically large and thick, like a specially made knockwurst. It hung from a hairy bush and rose before her to expose an immense pair of testicles. Marcie decided to practice her new found technique of going through all the love motions, but really holding her feelings aloof.
Not even that big wang excited her libido.
Marcie nuzzled her firm, lovely breasts against Harry's hairy chest and then as she felt his excitement, let his eager lips kiss her breasts and nipples. Her nipples jutted out, but Marcie felt none of the usual little thrills. She went into an undulating, voluptuous grind with her hips and belly against Harry's muscular torso and well endowed genitals. His heavy breathing became noisy and she felt the urgency of his lusting maleness sliding against the creamy whiteness between her thighs. She drew up one knee and fondling his manhood, guided the massive sausage to his goal. His loins lunged powerfully as he felt himself bathed in her warm welcoming hot box, and Marcie matched the rhythm of her weaving hips to his eager thrusts.
She decided to speed up the tempo, and as she sensed from his passionate pounding he would reach his peak, Marcie cried, "Give it to me now, Harry lover."
That bit of acting did it. Harry groaned like a wounded bear, and his whole body threshed ecstatically in jolting joy. Marcie wriggled her hips wildly and uttered happy little sounds of a bliss she hadn't even come near experiencing, as his huge, pulsating organ let go a voluminous load of hot sperm -so plentiful that enough drained down her utterly filled cunt to drench his big balls, pressing her parted cunny lips. From there the juice originated, and there it returned.
When they were dressed she quite calmly told Harry it would be four pounds. She laughed to herself as he gave her a quid for a tip. She knew now that she could make a man cream his load of humping and fucking. She felt nothing but hot, stiff pressure and then a series of spurting seminal squirts up her pussy. No more. No longer was she the young, passionate sweet girl of old.
Rudy and Lou cured her of that.