Chapter 8
Lorraine could not wait around any longer. She pulled a coat over herself and walked out into the chilly night. She was going to go straight to the maintenance shed and get whatever lay ahead over with, but something tugged at her and guided her to the kitchen, where a light still burned.
She mounted the steps to the kitchen and knocked on the screen door. Grace's voice boomed out from within, "Who is it?"
"Lorraine," she said firmly.
There was silence for a few seconds, then Grace, her voice now subdued, said, "Come in."
Lorraine pushed the screen door open and walked in to the warmth of the kitchen, heated by the great pilot lights in the series of ancient stoves and ovens. Grace sat in a stuffed chair in the back of the kitchen, he knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees.
Not sure of what to say, Lorraine simply stood there, watching the woman huddled in her own sort of cocoon. Grace did not look at her. "Well?" she said finally. "What do you want?"
Lorraine didn't know. She had come here on instinct, and had nothing in particular to say. She did not necessarily blame Grace for her predicament, for she was succumbing to the same type of pressure Grace had given in to, and it would have been the height of hypocrisy to read her out for it.
"I'm going to the maintenance shed in a few minutes," she said. "He made me. I don't have any choice."
"Those are the breaks," Grace said, bitterness heavy and thick in her voice. "Hope you have fun."
"I won't," Lorraine said. And even though she already knew the answer, she could not stop herself from asking. "Why, Grace? Why'd you do it?"
"For the same reason you're walking down there. Nobody's got you in chains, nobody controls you but you. Yet you're going, because you have to. All right. Nobody made me trap you into going down for that 'party', but I did it, because I had to."
"Did he make you make love to me too? Was that part of it? Was he up above watching the whole time, licking his lips like a hungry dog?"
Now Grace looked at her, and Lorraine was surprised to see Grace had been weeping. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks were wet where the tears had fallen.
"No," she said, without the anger that had been in her voice before. "That was between you and me. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did."
Lorraine's confused feelings for Grace Garcia jelled in that moment, and she knew what she felt for the woman. It was pity. "What's Bob got on you? How does he pull your strings?"
Grace dropped her head back down. "You don't want to know. You hate me enough already."
"I don't hate you," Lorraine said honestly. "How can t hate you?"
Grace looked up again, and this time her face was contorted with anger. Only it was clear the anger was not directed at Lorraine, nor even at Bob Shuster. It was directed inward. "You really want to know?" she said. "I'll show you if you really want to know."
"I do," Lorraine said, not sure why she did.
"You wait here," she said. Grace rose hastily and pushed the back screen door open and was gone. Lorraine shuffled about the kitchen for a few minutes, then, when she realized Grace would not be right back, she sat down in her chair.
Her watch told her it was forty-five minutes from the time she was to meet Bob. She trembled with fear, fear of the unknown. What awaited her? What in God's name did that man have planned for her?
She unconsciously drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, a twin of Grace as she had been seated moments earlier. She sat like that and tried to get a grip on her emotions, but her heart was racing despite her best efforts.
She heard the screen door open, and she looked over her shoulder. Grace was back, and she had a young staff member in tow. He was one of the kitchen aides Lorraine had seen before, but had never learned his name. He was blonde and had a smooth face, and was only about as tall as Grace. He couldn't have been older than fourteen, fifteen at the most.
"He caught me, that son of a bitch," Grace said, whirling the boy around, into the center of the kitchen. "Shuster found me one day, and he won't let me go."
The boy stood in the middle of the floor, looking scared and confused. But he did not say anything, or try to get away. "What's he got to do with it?" Lorraine wanted to know.
"Don't you understand yet?" Grace said, almost screaming. "He's the latest in a long line. Watch!" And to Lorraine's astonishment, Grace ripped her clothes off, wrenching them from her limbs and body, until she stood naked in front of the boy. "Fuck me," she ordered the boy.
"Right here?" he said. "Larry told me.. . . "
"Larry's going to get his ass kicked. I told you to fuck me. You like it, don't you? Haven't you enjoyed it before?"
The boy shifted nervously, his eyes darting to look at Lorraine, who had turned ghostly white in her chair. "Don't worry about her," Grace said disdainfully. "I can see your little crotch, I see you're as hard as they come. Now I told you to do something. You've put your little prick in me ten times already this summer when you wanted to, now I'm telling you." She impatiently reached over and grabbed the youth by the belt, and yanked his pants open. They fell to his ankles despite his effort to grab them, and then Grace ripped his flimsy underwear from his midriff. His firm young cock stood erect and bobbed up and down as the blood coursed through it. He wanted to fuck her, all right, but a vestige of propriety restrained him. Lorraine was in the room.
"I said forget her." Then Grace's eyes lit up. "Or maybe you want both of us. Are you a greedy little bastard? You want us both?"
Now it was the boy's turn to be shocked. But his pulsating erection grew larger at the thought, and his eyes flirted over to Lorraine more often now.
"No-no," he said. "Just you."
"Then take me, damn you," she hissed at him. Lorraine watched as the boy pushed Grace against a wall of the kitchen. She crouched slightly by bending her knees, and her pussy lips parted with a sloshing, juicy sound. Lorraine felt herself warm up from more than the heat in the kitchen as she saw the slit between Grace's legs part, and the sensitive, pink flesh within became visible beyond the fringes of hair that protected her fissure.
The boy stood in front of her, and Lorraine saw he was actually somewhat shorter than Grace. Standing before her, his upward-pointing penis was aimed at the opening in her pussy like an arrow on its way to a target. With a small step forward, the blood-gorged crown of his meatiness impaled her, skewering between the party entry to her ready cunt.
His buttocks muscles turned his ripe, young ass into a flat surface as he crammed his shaft inside of her, and Grace's hands draped over the boy's shoulders. She stood now a head taller than him, and her eyes were screwed shut and tears welled in the corners of them.
The boy withdrew, his buttocks taking on their full, round, smooth shape again, then he slammed in again, and Grace moaned. Then her eyes opened, a pathetic look on them, aimed directly at Lorraine. Lorraine could not watch, but she could not move. The boy had wrapped his arms around Grace's waist, and was pulling her pelvis toward him with each stroke his erect penis made against the interior of her burning, sopping vagina.
Grace shuddered, and moaned, then closed her eyes again. Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the boy's shoulders, and Lorraine watched his ass muscles contract and loosen more quickly as he increased the tempo with which he buried his cock inside of her, removed it, then burrowed in again.
"Ggaaahhooaah," Grace groaned, then her eyelids snapped open again, only this time she was not looking at Lorraine. Her eyes were vacant, staring at the stars burning in her brain, at the colors and lights that were turned on by the strong, young erection between her legs. Her breath came quickly and audibly, brief rasps as her chest rose and fell. Lorraine wasn't sure, but it looked from her vantage point like the boy's mouth was clasped around the nipple of one of Grace's awe-inspiring tits. Grace lowered her hands from the boy's shoulders to his cheeks, and she grabbed one with each hand, obscuring the hypnotic vision of his thrusts.
"Ohh-ohh-ohhhh," she moaned, and squeezed the flesh she held, trying to pull it into her harder. But unexpectedly, suddenly, the boy stopped, and with a young man's strength, he pulled away from her, and turned around.
His cock was huge now from the blood pulsating through it, the blue and green veins stuck out like ridges on a map. And his face had changed from a nervous boy's face to an alien caricature-a boy's face with a man's expression and a man's desire.
"I changed my mind," he said, holding his glistening cock by the base and pointing it at Lorraine. "I do want both of you. I am a greedy little bastard."
Grace stood erect, and glared at him; the lips of her cunt quivered like jelly, anxious to be filled again with his glorious, straight spear, but her eyes held only anger as her nostrils flared.
"Why, you little shit. Just who in hell do you think. . . . "
But Lorraine stopped her by slowly raising her hand. "It's all right," she said.
The boy smiled triumphantly.
"What? You . . . want to?" Grace said, incredulous.
"Yes." Her voice was a monotone, her eyes wide and blank. The steady, even rhythm of the boy's fucking motors had reduced her to a trancelike state, and her own pussy itched from a desire to be fulfilled. She did not think of Gary, or even her impending appointment with Bob Shuster. All she saw was the boy's sturdy penis, and Grace's familiar globes of flesh and her hairy, sticky pussy.
The boy with the man's desire stretched himself out on the warm linoleum floor, still gripping the base of his throbbing shaft. He wagged it at Grace. "Sit on this," he said.
"Don't you tell me what.. . . "
But the boy only raised his voice, which oddly made it deeper. "I said sit on this!"
Unsure of what to do, Grace obeyed. She swung one long, tapering leg over the boy's waist, and squatted until the spongy cockhead made contact with her dripping orifice. Then she slid down, taking the length of his meaty cock inside of her, until her exquisite ass was settled on the cushion of blonde male pubic hair.
Through the agony of her pleasure, Grace smiled, then lifted herself off the lad only to fall back on him with a lurid plopping sound as her cock-hungry cunt swallowed all of his length.
Still in a daze, Lorraine slipped slowly, fluidly out of her pants, and pulled the flannel shirt she wore off. She straddled the boy's face the same way Grace had straddled his waist, and lowered herself, the flesh of her outer pussy jumping and crawling in anticipation of the young mouth that would presently be pressed against it.
She lowered herself until her cunt covered his face, her slit opened for him. She felt his lips quivering against the exposed inner flesh of her delicate vaginal cavern, and she moaned. She adjusted her position so she was on her knees, her cunt lifted just an inch from the youth's anxious mouth-he had to raise his head a little to get to it, but it was worth the effort. His pink serpent of a tongue darted between the slightly parted cuntal lips and flicked gingerly at the dangling ball of her clitoris. It jumped to life instantly, hardening and shooting messages of erotic ecstasy through her spine and into her brain, where they were translated into gushes of heat and tingliness in her cunt, and warmth and relaxation in her bowels.
She felt the boy's hands creep around her thighs and hold on as his tongue continued to fence with her hard little clitoris, and she groaned again, and settled her pelvis against his face hard, unable to hold herself up any longer against the throes of ecstasy she felt.
Tired of toying with her pleasure pebble, the boy's tongue darted inside her cavernous cunt, and licked around, lapping up her intoxicating vaginal lubricants.
Lorraine squirmed as her breathing became more rapid and raspy, pushing her gaping hole hard against the eager face and active mouth beneath her. Her hands roamed over her own breasts, mashing them against her chest, then letting them fill out to normal before she pinched the nipple of each in each of her hands, pulling on them and rotating them between her fingers.
Grace had opened her eyes during a rush of orgasmic-intense sensations, and saw Lorraine kneading and fondling her breasts as the boy's chin jutted out, rotated and shook from the work of eating Lorraine's delectable pussy.
The sight was more than she could bear. Without relinquishing her cuntal grip on the boy's stiff member, she lunged across the length of her body and enclosed Lorraine in her embrace. Lorraine was startled at first, but that gave way almost immediately to the pleasurable sensations that one warm female can have upon another.
Lorraine wrapped her own arms around Grace, and then brought one hand back between them to cradle her alabaster orb-like breast. Her mind raced between the soft, silky touch of Grace's flesh to the mouth making love to her gushing cunt, to the sight of the boy's penis emerging from the furry patch between Grace's legs and then plunging back into its forbidden depths.
Grace held her two breasts up and apart for Lorraine, and the small blonde woman slid one of her own smaller tits between them. Grace pushed hers against Lorraine's and began massaging her breast with the two huge, warm mounds of her own. The boy beneath them quivered, shaking both of them, and Lorraine grasped Grace's head and pulled it to her breast, and Grace began sucking as voraciously as though milk could be extracted from Lorraine's gorgeous mammaries. Her nipple grew greatly distended from the sucking, but she wanted more-she wanted it all. She pulled Grace unwillingly from her tit, and lifted her lips to meet her own.
But Grace's tongue was out of her mouth before their lips pressed together, and Lorraine jutted hers out to meet it, and their female mouths batted against each other, mingling saliva and tasting the tastes of each other's mouths.
Grace stopped suddenly, looking up at the ceiling but seeing nothing. "Mmmmmphh," she sputtered, and then her body began to shake. "Oh, dear God," she whispered, and the shaking intensified until a minor earthquake took possession of her.
Then she screamed, and Lorraine looked down at the spear of solid flesh that was impaling her. She reached around Grace's curved ass cheeks and beneath them, feeling the sliminess of the cock that was coated with the cook's cunt juices.
She held the cock by its base, squeezing tight to try to keep the semen from squirting out, but she had no impact. She had pictured the cum from his sweet, long cock splattering across her face, but instead it gushed into Grace's cunt, and leaked from there around the thickness of his shaft onto Lorraine's hand, which still gripped the meat.
Unexpectedly, the boy trapped her engorged clitoris with his tongue and pulled it entirely into his mouth, and clamped down on it gently with his teeth. "Aaaahhh!" she gasped, and then poured her climax liquids onto the boy's awaiting face. His tongue lapped it all up, and drank it with gulps that made his adam's apple bob up and down.
Lorraine licked her hand, coated with a generous helping of his.
Grace and Lorraine rolled off the boy, who lay on his back gazing contentedly at the ceiling. He looked like a mad scientist's mistake-half-boy, half-man, a warped dwarf with adult appetites.
Slowly he sat, and was startled but pleased when Grace dove on his limp cock to lick away the combined juices of his scrotum and her pussy. When she was finished, a speck of slimy male sperm on her chin, he pulled his pants on and looked at the naked women on the kitchen floor.
Suddenly he reverted to boy, and blushed a deep, rich red, and bolted from the room. With hungry, sad eyes, Grace watched him go.
"That's why," she whispered, still panting. "I love them, the boys. They're so strong, so impulsive. They fuck the way nature intended them to fuck, without machismo or expertise. They haven't read manuals or developed hang-ups. They just.. . fuck."
"And Bob caught you," Lorraine said.
Grace nodded.
Jesus! Lorraine thought, remembering her ten o'clock appointment. She looked at her watch, and it was already ten after. Bob would kill her, or tell Gary.
Her pussy was warm and ready for whatever degrading activities Bob had conjured, but she still loathed Gary finding out.
She pulled her clothes on hastily, knowing they would be removed shortly, and bolted out the front door.
She stopped, and her heart turned to ice. Barry Jameson was standing on the porch. He had obviously been watching, listening.
"You bitch," he hissed at her. "How could you do this to Gary? What's he ever done to you? You're.. . you're sick!" he shouted, and leapt off the porch, disappearing into the darkness.
She wanted to go after him, to explain-and keep him from going to Gary. She did not want the boy to think badly of her.
But what else could he think?
And there was nothing she could do. Already she was late for Bob Shuster.
Her emotions warring inside her, tearing her brain and her soul apart, she started walking slowly down the hill toward the maintenance shed.