Chapter 2
Taking the elevator back to the main floor, Pat looked in her hand. It was a folded twenty-dollar bill. Wow! Twenty dollars on top of everything else would sure help a lot. Now she was really going to keep her mouth shut.
Reaching the ground floor, she opened the elevator door and came face-to-face with Eric, the starter. He was smiling at her.
"Hey now," he said. "You really had yourself some kind of a day, didn't you? I'll bet you really managed to see some interesting things."
"None of your business," Pat snapped at him.
"Fine," Eric nodded. "You just go on remembering it's no one else's business, and you'll get to stay on this elevator. Mr. Vane doesn't like to continually change operators. He wants one who can be trusted."
It was almost six-o'clock, so Eric told her she could go off-duty. But she was to show up at two the following day. Her school hours were such, she finished with her classes at one-thirty.
Pat hurried to the little room off to the side, got her street clothing, went into the ladies' room and changed, took her uniform back to the storage room where she hung it up in the closet. Then she went home, tucking the twenty-dollar bill in her billfold, and putting the billfold in her handbag.
Her mother was in the process of making supper when she got home, so Pat hurried upstairs to her bedroom. The orgasm she had felt had triggered a new need. She wanted to feel more climaxes.
Closing her bedroom door and locking it, Pat walked to her dresser and arranged the makeup mirror in such a way, that it was tilted to let her see the reflection of her thighs when she lay down on the bed. Then she hurriedly undressed. Pat was burning with fever and aching to feel another orgasm. Where there was one, there had to be others. The naked thighs and vagina she saw in the mirror looked like something attached to an entirely different person. Her eyes made a careful examination of the pink, pouting lips standing out from under the black bush on her mount, and she decided her vaginal shape was prettier than the reflection she had seen in the chrome elevator door, belonging to Mary, the blonde. The mirror was small, and all she was able to see was her pubis, so she slid down on the bed a little, letting her feet hang over the edge, until she was able to see her belly. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to see all of herself. So she got to her feet, walked over to the small dresser mirror and stood in front of it. Now she was able to see herself much more completely. At least she was able to see herself from her neck to her knees, which meant she saw what she believed to be all the important areas.
Sweat broke out all over her youthful body, giving it a gloss, coating her nicely swollen breasts, making them shine until they seemed fluorescent. She had large, tan aureole, and nicely swollen nipples. Gosh, they were as long and as thick as the pink ones belonging to Mary. Pat hadn't realized how much her body had developed in the past year. Staring as she did at her full breasts made her breathe more stridently.
Remembering how Mary had reacted when Vane had touched or kissed her breasts, Pat was suddenly filled with an urge to touch her own nipples and find out if it was really so exciting. This was all so new to her, but it seemed so enjoyable. But would she enjoy touching her own breasts as much as Mary had enjoyed a man's hands touching hers?
Nevertheless, she wanted to touch her own nipples to learn what it was like to be touched there. She wanted to caress and embrace them, much the way she had seen Vane do to Mary's tits. She ached to weigh each one in her hands, and as she stared at herself in the mirror, Pat saw her reflection raise both hands, fingers spread apart and palms cupped. And as the hands in the mirror lightly covered the breasts in the mirror, so Pat felt her own hands cover her own breasts. They encircled the swollen mounds on her chest and pressed.
Pat's reflection seemed to tremble, her fingers slowly but surely coming together, gently massaging the shiny pink points. Her palms moved in a slow, rhythmic circle, almost crushing her full breasts against her youthful body. Her nipples seemed to cut into the center of each palm, and Pat suddenly felt new bolts of arousal shooting through her. These were similar to those she felt in the elevator, but a little stronger because instead of merely watching, she was both, watching and participating.
Her long, exquisite fingers squeezed the glove of each breast gently, and for the first time Pat realized how firm her flesh was. Why it was even more solid than that of Mary. They seemed to look like foam rubber, even if they were two full paps of flesh and blood.
Pat sighed silently, and the sigh brought her back to reality. Her head had been swimming with wild imaginings, seeing the hands on her breasts as those of some man, and now she knew they were her own. For an instant she released her breasts, letting them fall and bounce as if they were being manipulated by a puppeteer. Then she slowly raised them again, cupping them from beneath. The rich brown nipples looked like quivering bits of light chocolate. She held her swollen breasts out to the woman in the mirror whose face she was unable to see, and the woman did the same. Lightly, she touched the tip of each nipple with her index fingers, pushing them into her aureole as if pushing the button in on a doorbell. A tingling, electric thrill charged through her as she watched the nipples pop out again.
Now, with her thumbs as well as her index fingers, Pat gripped each nipple and pressed, squeezing lightly, feeling a wild, maddening sensation charge through her body. Oh wow! She'd had no idea there was so much pleasure concentrated in the sensitivity of her nipples. She had known they were sensitive, but this was unbelievable.
Pat became aware of another sensation. Wetness was trickling down her right thigh. She remembered feeling wet in her crotch when in the elevator, earlier, but now, with no panty-crotch to contain the wetness, it went running down her thigh, and then her leg. The tickling sensation was driving her mad with desire.
Staring at the reflection of her body in the mirror, she had a full view of the thick, healthy pink labia she had seen before, when lying down. The cuntlips shone through her dark hair, seeming to stand out. Staring at it increased the tingling thrills building inside her body. This made her squeeze the solid flesh of her nipples that much harder. Odd, but it didn't hurt. It should have hurt, what with the way she was applying pressure, but it didn't. Instead, that wonderful, thrilling sensation built higher and higher, and Pat realized it was the feeling that would eventually lead to the climax she was seeking. More liquid was dripping down her thighs from within her seething vaginal interior. She moaned and sighed, but this time she didn't snap out of the reverie into which she was falling. Pat felt her lips were dry, and she licked them as her fingers continued to madly massage her enlarged nipples.
Closing her eyes, Pat recalled how Vane had bent down and licked Mary's nipples, and she had an unaccountable urge to taste herself. She wondered if Vane got as much enjoyment from sucking the nipples as Mary must have gotten from having them sucked. Well, she was about to find out for herself. With trembling hands, she raised both breasts as high as possible, pointing the nipple centers toward her mouth. Shudderingly, she bent her head and leaned toward her right breast. Her lips parted and she thrust her tongue all the way out, letting the tip graze her sensitive nipple.
Pat jumped as if someone had poked her with a cattle prod. God! It didn't merely feel good. It felt fantastic. And her tongue radiated with a funny feeling, letting her know men enjoyed sucking a woman's nipple as much as a woman enjoyed having a mouth at her breast. Golly! It had never occurred to her to try anything like this, before. The delights were totally new and immeasurable. Releasing her left breast, she used both hands to tug her other breast even higher. She strained to bring the nipple even closer to her mouth, feeling the saliva build inside, letting her know how anxious her mouth was to taste her nipple. Forcing her head lower, Pat thrust her tongue farther out. Then she began lapping the erect nipple. Her tongue moved back and forth, back and forth, and it became shiny with her sputum. She ached to push the entire breast into her mouth. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, her breasts were firm, solid, and well-proportioned, which meant the best she was able to do was push half a teat between her sucking lips. Each breast would have been more than a mouthful, had she been able to force the entire mammary higher. She sucked the nipple avidly, letting it scrape across her palate.
Eventually, the strain of holding her large breast up became too much, and Pat reluctantly released it. It fell back into place, hanging beside its twin, but more lustrous than the other teat because it glistened and shone with the oral attentions that had been paid to it. Would a man's mouth have the same effect, or would it be different? She wondered.
Pat's gaze drifted lower as she stared into the mirror. She was gazing at her flat stomach, a soft, firm plane of flesh, dimpled by a perfect navel. She enjoyed watching the way it moved in and out with her breathing.
Her hips were starting to swell nicely, though they would never become too large. She had a small, round pair of buttocks, shaped to attract men, though time would never turn the cheeks into heavy balloons. Not that she particularly cared about her buttocks. They were behind her, and the only way she'd ever see them would be to turn her back to the mirror and twist her head around. Somehow Pat didn't find the idea too exciting.
Her eyes continued drifting lower, and she was her rounded hips taper into firm, solid pillars of white, creamy flesh. She hadn't had a chance to do any sunbathing the past summer, and as a result, her flesh was as white as Mary's. But her black hair made her white skin seem even more lustrous. The creases where her luscious thighs joined her body were dark, thin lines, and they pointed in one direction. A faint, downy line of black fuzz ran from her navel in the same direction, and even the triangular patch of black curls was pointing at the puffy, pouting area of her pubes. It looked very much like Mary's, but as Pat had observed earlier, her labia were thicker and fuller, with a stronger outward swelling.
David Vane had referred to the female pubic area as the cunt or the pussy. Pat knew it as her vagina, and had no idea there were so many slang names for it. She recalled seeing the way Vane's meaty hose had plundered the tight, narrow slit between Mary's thighs. She also recalled the initial gasps of pain coming from Mary, at first, followed by sighs of rapturous ecstasy. Her clitoris, poking its head out from the membrane covering it, reminded her of the way her wet panty crotch had rubbed against the little nubbin, helping to bring on her first orgasm. Yes, yes, a lot of her sensitivity was in that clitoral bud. Remembering how the friction had brought on her orgasm caused Pat to shudder with wild, unimaginable sensations. Almost without realizing it, her right hand began slowly reaching down, and when the ball of her forefinger touched it, she jumped as if it had been touched with an exposed wire. Slowly she began massaging it, and the thrills began to instantly build in her hungry body. Ohhhhh! Yes! Yes! There was no doubt this was one of the centers of total enjoyment.
Looking around the room, she saw the armless chair in the corner, where she usually threw her clothes, at night. She walked over to it, brought it away from the corner and set it down before her dresser, but far enough away so she was able to see the lower half of her body when she sat. Now she spread her delightful white thighs wide apart, giving herself a full view of the puffy lips she had come to admire so much. In her mind there wasn't the slightest doubt that her cunt was prettier than Mary's. Now she saw more of the love dew seeping from it.
Reaching down, she cupped her right hand against the hair surrounded slash, enjoying the way her middle finger seemed to fit itself into the seeping cut. For a brief moment she shut her eyes, once again seeing David Vane's cock sinking into Mary's pretty box. The heel of her hand rubbed firmly against her clitoris. A wild sensation began shooting through her, building itself higher and higher. The contact was causing blistering thrills to fill her body and her buttocks began jumping up and down on the wooden chair. Her flaming vagina was dripping wet and all set to explode. She was becoming more and more sensitive because of the way her fingers moved through her labia. Two fingers now parted the petal-like flanges of soft, tender flesh, exposing the pink-welled interior. Hot, colorless fluid came squirting out of the deep hole, drenching her hand with its wetness.
Pat moaned, seeing, in her mind's eye, the way Mary's cunt had emitted the juices as well, and then she opened her eyes and saw her own vagina more drenched than Mary's would ever be. The thrilling sight of her cunt built the feelings even higher inside her. It was definitely more fun to look at her own vagina than that of another female.
Stretching her thighs even wider apart, Pat bounced her buttocks on the chair until she had levered her hips forward to give her an even better view of the delicate, satiny ribbons of flesh making up her labia. She had moved both hands between her thighs, and they were pressing into her tender labia, spreading them stickily apart. She was thrilled by the soft popping sounds she heard each time the lips separated from one another.
Now Pat had an even better view of her inner feminine enclave. It seemed strange to the teenage girl. She had no idea why she felt as she did, nor did she care. She did know she enjoyed the feelings running rampantly through her, and very much wanted to enhance them. There was something delightfully thrilling in seeing all that living, wet, heated pinkness-almost redness-as her fingers separated the entrance to her furry beaver. It was so completely ... exciting and wanton. Her delicate virginal hole, the place that looked so much like the tunnel in Mary violated by Dave Vane, looked like a yawning flesh chasm in need of solace. Yes, her vagina needed to be consoled, if only because it was still virginal and did not know the enjoyment of having a man inside. There was no doubt but that her cunt needed something inside. But she couldn't go out on the street and walk up to just any man and offer herself to him. No, the male had to be physically attractive, somewhat like Dave Vane. Not that she expected Vane would ever bother looking at her. She was so young compared to all the other girls and women he knew. At least, she supposed she was much younger than they, if Mary was any criterion.
Her eyes once again rested on that little nubbin of flesh at the top of her inner lips, sticking boldly out. It was a bright, rich crimson by now, vellicating wildly, as if begging her to touch it again. There were so many wonderful and wild sensations in that little extension of flesh.
Excitedly, Pat reached down with her left index finger and pushed against the fleshy little button. Maddening static began shooting through her, as if she had stuck her finger into a socket and current was rampantly running through her. Mad, insane ideas began chasing crazier, wilder thoughts through her entire mind and body. Her firm thighs began shuddering and trembling as heavy droplets of perspiration formed on her pelvis and trickled down alongside her fingers against her shuddering pussy.
Pat began rubbing her clitoris very very slowly, thrilling to each new, wonderful sensation as it took possession of her. Her finger began rubbing a little harder, and at the same time her other index finger, as if trying to steady her bouncing body, inserted itself in the pink, creamy orifice, moving carefully between those soft, slippery labia. The instant her finger slipped in, she began gyrating wildly, and this enhanced the friction of her finger against her sensitive clitoris.
Pat's eyes were wide open, almost bulging from her head as she gazed with unwavering concentration on the image of herself in the mirror, thrilling to the sight of the finger sliding in and out of the sodden vagina, knowing it was her own vagina, and the feelings she was enjoying were real, and not merely in her mind. She dared not push her fingers too far into her quivering cunt. There was some kind of obstruction inside, and the one time she did push her fingers too far in, she felt a little pain. No, better to push her fingers a little way in and concentrate on what her other forefinger was doing to her clit. Clit? Yes, she had heard the clitoris called a clit.
The girl began applying more and more pressure. Her entire body was coated with perspiration. And she continually attempted to force her thighs to spread themselves even wider apart, her spine resting on the very edge of the chair. She vividly applied more and more pressure to the ultra-sensitive area. The fingers within were rubbing against the upper wall of her vaginal cave, which was more sensitive than any of the other walls, and now they wildly massaged themselves against that portion of her inner realm.
Pinpricks of pleasure dotted Pat's trembling body from top to bottom. Blistering, thrilling, orgiastic sensations caused sparklers of slashing light to pin wheel inside her aroused brain. Both hands moved speedily now, one rubbing the tiny red button, the other forcing her fingers in and out of her boiling quim all the more rapidly. Bubbling water inside her suddenly became fiery lava, and this soon became molten metal as her entire body started to spastically tremble. The muscles in her arms and wrists were paining her, yet she endured the agony rather than stop. The orgasm she had felt in the elevator filled her memory, and the sensations building up in her body let her know what she would shortly feel would be far greater than the minor thrill that had quaked her at that time. The thrill built ever higher, and then she began experiencing the wonderful bliss she had known in the elevator, only to the fifth power, this time. Once more, she had to clench her teeth to keep herself from screaming. She didn't want her parents to hear her and come running upstairs to find out what was the matter.
The climax exploded from her frothing pussy as the colorless water inside began spewing insanely forth. Pat's two fingers were rubbing her cunt so hard, had it not been for the excessive amount of juice she was emitting, she would certainly have rubbed off some tender skin. The flaming com-juice drenched her fingers, her hand, her wrist, and even part of her forearm. Even so, her fingers continued their insane thrusting into her body, careful to avoid the membrane that caused pain when touched. But massaging the walls of her cunt as they did, her fingers completed the passionate, overwhelming explosion. The orgasm continued bearing down on her, giving her arms and legs the consistency of a rag doll. She chewed her lower lip repeatedly to keep herself from screaming aloud.
Pat jackknifed forward, both hands locked between her taut, slender thighs. Her torso was shuddering as it was hit by yet another, completely unexpected, orgasm. It was wonderful for Pat to learn how sensuous she really was, and despite the power of this second orgasm, it still was not enough. She needed more. She tumbled forward off the chair, slipping to the floor, her knees drawn up against her breasts as her fingers, jammed into her vagina, continued their wild manipulations.
Yes, she thought to herself, rubbing her cheek on the bedroom carpet, this had to be the most wonderful feeling a person could feel. It was a culminative sensation without equal. And yet ... yet ... it still wasn't enough. There had to be more. There had to be a better feeling.
"Patricia!" her mother's voice called from downstairs, breaking into her reverie. "Supper."
Everything was subsiding now. She slowly rose to her feet and dressed. Yes, there was more, much more. She had seen some of it that afternoon, in the elevator. And one day she would find out about it for herself.