Chapter 9
Neither Roz nor Lori was wild about the idea of spending a weekend up in the woods at the Seavers' cabin. Lori was persuaded only after Pete Seaver agreed to leave the children behind. Lori's mother was more than delighted to take them for the weekend and that was that. Resigned, Lori began to do some thinking and she made a few purchases here and there, secret purchases. One of them was embarrassing, but she managed it. She had never been in such a store before, with all those beaver magazines, thousands of paperbacks with sexy titles and all sorts of sex devices not even concealed from sight. While she was there, though, on a sort of impulse she bought several of the pornographic books. When Pete came home that evening, late, he was ready for a drink and bed. So was Lori, but it wasn't sleep she had in mind. She had discarded two of the books as rotten, written by typists. The third was not only extremely interesting, it was a definite turn-on-and gave her a couple of ideas. Her husband soon learned those ideas and got the benefit of them. After that, recognizing pornography as a marital aid, the Seavers bought about half a dozen titles each and every month-and saved a few, for rereading.
Though she never mentioned it, Lori also noticed that Pete didn't seem to have to work late as Often as before...
Her other purchases she hid away for the trip up to the cabin with the Alstons. After all, she did both the packing and unpacking; Pete would never see what she'd bought, unless she intended him to. She began to look forward to the trip with high anticipation.
Not so Roz, but she didn't let John know that she'd rather spend the weekend locked in the hall closet than to go way the hell up in the woods with those two people. The men would want to talk a lot of business. As Assistant Manager of the Huntley Plaza branch of the company, Roz knew she'd be expected to participate. Otherwise, she couldn't imagine that she'd much enjoy the trip. A whole weekend in a little cabin with the Seavers, privacy limited, the constant awareness of others and the necessity of keeping herself covered-and surely she and John would have the first sexless weekend of their marriage. How could they possibly make love with the other couple so nearby in that little place stuck off in the woods?
She did indulge herself in some new clothing. If that damned Pete Seaver thought he was going to have a nice time eyeballing her, he'd damned well be disappointed! She'd just gear up like one of those overdoing feminists who thought feminism meant dressing like a male. Without telling John, she bought two denim workshirts and two pairs of jeans and a big-buckled, wide belt. After making sure everything fit, she gave them a good bleach-washing, so they wouldn't look new but old and faded.
Then the men mentioned fishing and both women smiled inwardly, secretly knowing that at least there'd be opportunities for a little she-and-she sex, while Pete and John were out sticking worms on hooks and playing back to the wild.
That was a positive and there came another. Friday was beautiful and the weather forecast for the long weekend was fair and unseasonably warm. They took jackets just the same. Pete assured them there was an adequate supply of blankets at the cabin and plenty of bottled gas on hand for the range and a couple of little heating stoves. There was also a lot of firewood, he told them and if it grew cold at night, they'd all darned well not suffer. Besides, sitting before an open fire was both lovely and romantic.
They all rode up Friday afternoon in the Seaver's Cadillac, which had to be slowed to ten and less miles an hour for the last mile or so. The road that took them deep into the thickly growing trees was more like a creekbed and the big car dragged twice. The second time, Pete and John and Roz got out, relieving the car of their weight while Lori eased it over the rut and ridge combination on which it had dragged its bottom.
Then they were there and Lori was surprised. Pleasantly surprised. She should not have been, she realized instantly. Pete Seaver had money.
The cabin was pretty.
Inside, it was nice. It was weathertight. The windows were raisable, screened and barred. The hardwood floor of the large main room was strewed with carpets, including a big one of tan fur and the furniture was hardly Salvation Army stuff. The kitchen boasted not only the range and refrigerator and cozy little four-place table, but a sink with running water as well. There was a bathroom; it worked, although the chemical stuff certainly was a weird color. (To go easy on it, Pete mentioned, the men would transact their business outside.) "Hmp! Sexist," Lori said, though not in anger.
Pete shrugged. "Oh no. If you want to step out and piss up against a tree as we'll be doing, come right ahead, honey."
"Clunk," Lori said and John laughed.
There was a nicely paneled bedroom and a half-loft overlooking the living room that served as guest bedroom. Roz was pleasantly surprised again, once she'd climbed up. It was nice up there, plenty of blankets and a lovely mattress on a box springs: cozy. There was even a little table and a radio and one chair, on the partial second floor.
They ate steaks and salad that night and put away a goodly quantity of beer-and a little Scotch, as Lori wouldn't drink much beer at all, even Lite-and sat around talking, disappointed that it was too darned warm for the fire. Roz kept on the long-sleeved blouse and pants she'd worn up from the city, even after she spilled grease down one leg and John cutely trickled beer down the other leg. Lori changed as soon as they'd eaten, into a velvour-topped hostess robe in which she was lovely. Playing woodsman, Pete wore a plaid shirt and old straightleg jeans, while John wore a pair of khakis and a jogging shirt, blue.
They hardly talked about business at all. Beer and Scotch helped send them to bed rather early with Roz hurling her messed pants off the half-loft and John once again commenting with pleasure on her bralessness.
"You like me all loose and hanging and swinging this way?"
"Absolutely!"
"Well, good. Get used to it-I didn't even bring a brassiere up here."
"I ain't complaining," he grinned. "Come to think, I don't even know what you brought to wear. A few skin-tight teeshirts, I hope I hope." He grinned more broadly, leering as best he could; leering wasn't John's thing.
"You'll see," she hummed. "But no, get that out of your head-I did not come up here to get Pete Seaver all turned on."
"Oh. Good. Um, nice mattress. Come on in. God, I think I didn't really need those last two beers!"
She chuckled, snuggling in under the sheet and huge scarlet spread with him. "You did take some aspirin and B-l?"
"Yup," he said, yawning and gave her a squeeze and was asleep in less then a minute. Though she thought she might well have a hard time getting to sleep, with the lack of familiar night sounds and the constant unusual ones-crickets and katydids, mostly, Pete had said- Roz was soon asleep, too.
There was no difficulty in the morning. Pete was already up and Lori he said was working on it. Waving a hand up at the guest couple, he went outside for a stroll, while they dressed. Darned nice of him, Roz thought, struggling into her denims over nothing but panties and half-hose in a space not high enough for her to stand.
"My gawd!" John Alston said, his eyes big.
"Oh, no!" Rosalind Alston said, stricken.
She had miscalculated. Sure, she had bought full-cut denim shirt and jeans. And yes, she had washed them in hot water with bleach, to take the new off and look less attractive. And yes, they were real work clothes-and yes, they did indeed shrink. A lot.
Even with her stomachless waist, she had to suck in to fasten the pants. They molded her as if she'd been stitched into them. If she'd had a pimple on her butt, Pete and Lori would instantly have known it. Thank god she'd brought panties; the thick-seamed fly-front crotch cut right up into her so that they separated her cunt lips and displayed that fine bulge more definitely than had she been naked.
As for the shirt-even with it worn out, it was too short now to cover her crotch and a backside that looked as if it were naked and painted blue-white denim. It also stretched across her braless breasts in a way that resembled an ad- an ad for Frederick's of Hollywood, or an ad for nipples. They looked even bigger, straining against the fabric from inside.
She stripped and put on the other shirt and pants. They were identical. They had shrunk identically. They fit identically-tighter than tight.
"I'll wear those damned messed pants from last night all weekend."
John wrapped a hand around her wrist. "No no! You'll wear what you're wearing. My God, woman, you look absolutely marvelous!"
She turned a pitiful-eyed gaze on him. "Darling-I'll wear them every weekend for you when we get home-every night if you wish. But not here. I'll be embarrassed all the time- and conscious of Pete Seaver's eyes on me!"
"Listen, shy little girl, you've worn clingy dresses and scooped necklines in his presence and we both loved it. He's not going to be grabbing your ass or making lewd remarks-he isn't like that!" John made a try. "Jesus! Besides-even if he were, he couldn't grab your ass!"
Looking ready to cry, she laughed.
"Any kitchen help in this house?" Lori called up.
John patted his wife's ass. "Please."
"Damn!"
"Beautiful."
"Oh... all right."
"Great." John kissed her. "I gotta go join Pete. You know-the great big bathroom outside-and too many cans of beer last night. Back in a minute."
Later, Roz realized that John must have said a few words to Pete. The man said not a word about her display clothing. As a matter of fact she was a little bothered by the fact. He could have complimented her, at least...
Lori was different. She ogled Roz as she walked into the kitchen. "My Gawd! Would you look at you-I've never seen you so sexy! You look good enough to eat." Then she made a face. "Oops!" Again Roz was forced to laugh. While they worked together on breakfast, she told Lori the sad story of the pants, the shirts, the hot water and the bleach.
Lori laughed. "What a sad tale... but speaking of same, boy does your tail look great! Listen, that clown I married wants to go fishin'. Now what we do is go along and get bored pretty soon and come back here, right? I'll have that shirt and pants-or is that denim paint?-off you so fast you won't be able to say bisexual!"
Grinning, Rosalind Alston nodded. "You look pretty terrific yourself, me proud beauty," she said.
Lori did.
Brunette Lori was slim. Not thin or skinny; slim. Svelte, sleek, like a lithe prowling cat. She covered an unusually high forehead with swatchy bangs almost to her eyebrows, only the outer edges of which she plucked. Her eyes were deep-set and veiled by long black lashes, making them more sensuous looking-and making the clear blue color of those eyes almost shocking. Such blue eyes in the faces of the dark-haired descendants of the Gaels have ever been striking, even shocking.
Her shoulders were not really broad, but their bone structure and Lori's overall lack of meatiness, of padding, made them look broad. Her breasts were nice, neither so loosely hung nor so large as Roz's, not so slack or dangling as too many mothers of two, yet even more swollen looking of nipples than the other woman's. Stretched by two children, her belly was neither bloated nor sagging; she was careful about her eating and Lori Seaver exercised. An incredible number of situps kept those muscles in tone, while fifteen minutes daily with Mark Eden exercises accomplished the same for the muscles of her breasts, the pectorals, keeping them both nicely toned and looking larger than they were. Lori was five-feet-five, short of waist and long of leg.
Lori Seaver radiated sensuality, sexiness and she knew it. She also worked at it. She emphasized it.
The tie-front halter top and short shorts- both scarlet-she wore today did nice things for her, as she did for them.
An hour after rising, the two couples were on the banks of the tree-shaded stream; just over an hour later, Lori was complaining of insect bites-she had received one but. pretended there'd been more-and she and Roz announced their intention of returning to the cabin. Their men called them chickenshit, but otherwise shrugged. A short while later the men were fishing and the women were back in the cabin, fondling and kissing. They moved directly to the bedroom.
Sprawled on the bed, Lori speared her tongue into Roz's mouth, going after her throat with it The younger woman responded with a deliriously mounting pleasure, accepting the probing tongue as if trying to suck it loose from its roots. Her hands plucked loose the knot in the brunette's halter and Roz began fondling those dark-nippled, well-toned breasts.
She liked them. They fascinated her. She preferred them to her own larger, jiggly-loose titties, which were always amove, prancing bouncily as though they were suspended on springs. With her hands on the brunette's less mobile breasts, Lori sighed-into Roz's mouth- and then wriggled and heaved a greater sigh that thrust her bosomy morsels out enticingly.
After Roz had fondled them for awhile, never taking her mouth from Lori's, the latter made her stop while she dragged off Roz's big belt and unsnapped her jeans. Forcing the zipper down, she thrust her hand down into the dimly seen and lightly fleeced V within.
Lori fondled the other woman's vulva while Roz fondled her breasts.
To both their nostrils came the definite, rich scent of their arousal, the aroma of female animals in heat and sensuously writhing.
Roz's hands hungrily ravished and manipulated the firm-fleshed softness of the other woman's jostling, heavenly hemispheres, dimpling their resilience and running all over the rich flesh.
Moaning from the throat, Lori scrambled into a better position. Her tongue tangled and toyed with her friend's while her fingers played over the delicate little hair-fringed opening of her cunt The fleshily plump folds of its outer lips parted more and more. And she sighed as gentle fingers touched her own tall-standing nipples.
Those fingers slid about the large rubbery projections so that they were encompassed between the thumb and first two digits of each hand. She began twisting them, not nastily, like small knobs attached to her cunt by invisible wires. Lori hunched and groaned. She speared a finger inward to find humid dampness and that incredible indescribable softness of inner cunt. Other fingers plucked at her nipples.
Seething, ebullient flesh twitched and swelled. Soon each throbbing nipple was thicker, longer, thrusting out of their puckered haloes like bull's-eyes of brownish-red flesh.
Though Rosalind's jeans were so tight as to make dragging them down a difficult task, Lori accomplished it. She quivered the while, for her breasts were being erotically teased by one who knew just what to do and how to do it. Panting, the brunette tickled her friend's pussy lips with gentle, constantly moving fingers.
Sharp waves of erogenous awakening and rising passion jolted through Roz's tense body as two fingers dipped in and out of her steaming, musky slit.
Her thighs sagged apart and she sighed aloud. Her head moved forward and she began to lick a swollen, dark nipple nearly the size of the last joint of her little finger. Meanwhile she felt two fingers wriggling ophidianly about inside her slippery sex tunnel, turning it into a juice-filled, boiling cauldron of desire.
She shivered and jerked in time to the plunging of skilled feminine fingers inside her cuntbox. Her treatment of the other woman's nipple grew a little rougher as she was able to control herself less and less. Lori had made her moist, then wet and now wetter still so that she was fair stuffing her fingers up inside her lesbian lover's hot vaginal canal.
Roz ate titty, sucking hard. She winced and gasped around her lovely mouthful, prey to fits of heavy and frenzied breathing and sharp attacks of convulsionlike tremors.
Her body had become a factory for churning out its sticky juices, as her saliva and her cunt cream and her sweat all flowed in heavy tides. She found the other woman's shorts-clad cunt bulge with her hand, stroked it, pressed with her palm so that her fingers were plastered to the brunette's rounded backside.
Lori was panting. She whipped her hand out, licked her fingers, slid them into Roz's hair and tugged her back from the breast she was sucking. Roz looked at her in confusion from lust-filmed eyes.
"That's enough of this! We've got to get up and get these damned clothes off-I want to fuck you, fuck you, fuck you till you squeal!"
"Lori! Uh-oh, you brought the vibrator?"
"I brought something else-a little something I bought. A wicked thing-you'll shortly see." She tugged Roz into her arms, kissed her. "You know what I want to do, darling, I want to eat and be eaten, I want to lick your darling cute ass-and I want to fuck your pretty little ass! Don't blink at me like that, you fantastic darling slut! You and I both know how much you love it!"
Lori swung off the bed; a pantingly excited Roz followed with alacrity. They stripped hurriedly, not trying to put on a show for each other-that was long since unnecessary, with both their arousals at a high pitch. Roz's eyes went wide when Lori brought her newly bought device from beneath a blanket in a dresser drawer.
"I've never seen anything like that!"
"I knew they existed," Lori said breathlessly. "I thought about it, that time you and I talked about fucking, how we dig making it with each other this way and also want and need to fuck, to be fucked. So I got my nerve up and went to one of those adult stores and bought one. Whew! There was no one else in there but men-and did they look!"
The weird device resembled a pair of bananas stuck together end to end, with a large thick disk precisely in the center, like a barrier. The banana comparison could go only so far; the shining device was a rich, gleaming chocolate brown. Each end, each brown "banana," was about eighteen centimeters or seven inches long. A pretty normal length-for a cock. Each was a pretty normal girth, too-for a cock.
Roz touched it, ran her fingers over it. "Ooooooh! Not even as cold as it looks... it's... this is a real dildo, isn't it! A double dildo!"
"Exactly! A cock apiece, luv. Would you like to suck my cock? Would you like to have your cock sucked?"
That was a perversely exciting thought, but Roz was already excited about the prospect of what Lori had said earlier.
"I'd-I'd rather have it in me!"
"Lie back and let's see how it fits. I've got an idea."
"Oh," Roz said, sitting on the bed and then sprawling back, forking her legs lewdly, "it'll fit all right. I don't think it's as big as John's bone... "
"Oh really! Lucky Roz! Maybe I should have gotten the giant economy size-oh yes, you're still wide open and running wet inside and bright red!" Sitting on the bed beside the other woman, Lori bent to kiss, to thrust in her tongue, to suck briefly at Roz's lightly furred pussy.
Then, gently and with consummate ease, she pushed one end of the double dildo into that open, juicy and indeed violently scarlet slash. The prostrate girl sighed as big brown cock bored into her hungry, naked gap and forced her to spread all around its broad stalk.
The disk in the center of the double dildo was against her puckered, ring-rounded pussy lips in no time. Lori pressed in. Groaning, moaning, gasping, Roz hunched.
"Ah! Ah! Pump it, pump me-e-e... "
"Greedy guts!" Lori snapped accusingly-and grinning, she made her friend's eyes bulge by turning the artificial cock all the way around inside her. Next she drew it far out-and pushed it all the way back in.
Roz made a squeaky noise of bereavement when Lori tugged the slippery, sap-glistening dildo all the way out of her.
"No, don't-ahhhhhh!"
Having turned the device, Lori held it by the disk and pushed the other end into that quaking hollow lined with churning pink tissues. Again she buried it up the juicy warm hole until the disk pressed into Roz's quim. The purpose of that large round divider was obvious; it kept either user of the device from having more crammed into her than she could bear, from being ripped by unyielding bone-hard plastic. Each surface of the disk was corrugated, too, to add extra thrilling sensations when it pressed into splayed pussy lips and exposed clitoris.
Then a wide-eyed Roz, propped up on her hands and with her legs wide and her cunt utterly stuffed with false cock, stared down at the way she seemed to have a cock, spearing out and up from her in that familiar bow-or banana-shape. And then her eyes widened still more and she gasped... for her friend bent far forward and Lori began sucking Roz's cock!
She had thoroughly smeared this end with vaginal oils before reversing it and now the kneeling brunette sucked and lapped up all that glistening juice from the depths of her friend's stuffed pussy.
It was a weird sensation for Roz, watching another woman suck what appeared to be her cock. When Lori bobbed her head, Roz groaned, for though there was no feeling in that hard thing spearing out from her crotch, the brunette's cocksucking head movements brought movement to the device-which made its buried end wiggle about up inside Roz's delighted vagina.
"God! Oh, wow-I see what you meant-you are sucking my cock!"
"Ummm-mmmm!" Lori slid her mouth back off the stiff pole. "Yes," she hissed, licking her lips. "And tasting your sweet pussy juices at the same time, darling!"
"And... and you could sit, put your legs up over mine and face me... we could sort of rock, and-"
"And fuck each other!" Lori said, almost shouting. "Yes!" She jiggled the false prick with her hand, leaning well forward on her knees to kiss Roz's breast and give its nipple a swift suck that left it fat and hard. "But that isn't what I said and that isn't what I want to do, Roz darling. I'm going to take this out of you and push it up me while you turn over on your tummy... and then I'm going to fuck your ass and my cunt all at the same time!"