Chapter 6

"This is Bert." Harry did not bother to get up. He waved a hand, then looked at the other man. "This one's Fred." After the introductions, he picked up his highball glass and drained it.

Both men nodded at the twins and Barbara saw the one called Fred widen his eyes at the other and make a circle with his thumb and fingers. She sat in the only vacant chair to keep away from Harry and let Betty take the couch when he made room.

She was telling herself that he had not wasted any time. This had all the earmarks of being for real. If these were not paying customers, she had missed her guess. Neither of them seemed to be overfriendly with their host and she noticed that they were not drinking. She wondered as she took a cigarette out and lit it herself how much he had charged them.

She glanced over at Betty and saw her eyeing Bert with speculation. Evidently her sister had not tumbled yet. Maybe she thought it was another deal like that with Sam and Hank. She had called Sara, at Barbara's suggestion, before they left the house but there was no answer. She wished that she had gone home with Hank that evening and found out where he lived. She wanted to talk to him.

Harry got up and went for a refill. He held his empty glass up and looked inquiringly at Bert and Fred and they shook their heads.

They must both like it cold, Barbara surmised. No whisky hards for them. Plainly, they wanted to keep sober and so enjoy it all the more. She studied them over the hand holding her cigarette and came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. She asked herself if there was any difference between a paid-for fuck and one that just happened because you liked the guy or were curious about his equipment. Bert got out of his chair and went over to sit by Betty while she was trying to find a logical answer.

Fred broke into her speculation by asking if she'd had a nice day. She thought it was an odd remark but anything was better than sitting there and staring at one another. Besides, there was the off chance that he was just trying to be polite.

He drew his chair closer, making no attempt to touch her. She felt interest growing in her to find out what made him tick. His clothes looked expensive. She wondered if he owned the Jag parked at the curb in front of Harry's door. He had a nice voice and was better-looking than his friend.

Trying to keep her hands steady, she lit a new cigarette from the stub of the old one and took a deep breath, enjoying the bite of the smoke as she inhaled it.

"You smoke too much," Fred said quickly. "Don't tell me it's none of my business because it is. You'll ruin your health."

Oh, no, she thought, not one of those pure-living nuts. The last thing she wanted was a sermon. She was about to tell him so when Harry returned from the kitchen. He was carrying a tray with three drinks on it. It followed, she reflected. Quick with the first highball, then nothing. Maybe it was his way of loosening them up.

She was grateful for the interruption, because she was liking this Fred character less and less. To keep Harry happy, she'd have to put up with him, she supposed. But that did not include being his yes-girl. She took a sip of her drink and looked to see how Betty was doing. Her sister and Bert were sitting close together, laughing as though they were old friends. Harry gave them an approving glance and sat down at the other end of the couch.

"I hope I haven't made you mad." It was Fred, sounding apologetic. "You see, I neither smoke nor drink and sometimes-well, I guess I get carried away."

"No vices, eh?" Barbara decided to meet him halfway.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." He colored a little and seemed to hesitate. "I-I guess I'm just another guy."

He coughed and patted his lips with well-kept fingers. "You see," he said, half defiantly, "tomorrow I begin studying for the ministry and well-" He paused in embarrassment

"Don't tell me." Barbara had trouble in keeping from laughing. Things were becoming a little clearer. "And this is your last fling, your farewell to the world of-what is it?-flesh and the devil? Oh, wonderful!"

"Not a fling, as you call it. I just wanted a few memories to take with, me to the seminary. Nothing serious, you understand. When I ran into Harry and he told me about you and your sister, I thought it would be refreshing to talk to some young people. I haven't had much chance lately and after tomorrow, I won't be seeing girls," he ended, somewhat wistfully.

By now, she had changed her mind. The poor bastard, she was thinking. About to be shut up in some God joint with no pussy or booze. She felt sorry for him, even while she sensed that he must want to do it. "Well, here we are." She tried to make her voice bright and cheer him up a bit. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'd like to talk to you." His manner seemed a little easier, as though he had taken a load off his conscience.

Barbara cut her eyes to Harry. He was studying the rug, with his glass in one hand, not paying attention. "Tell me," she whispered to the prospective priest, "how much did you pay him?"

"Oh-er-not much, really." Now he was embarrassed. "Only a nominal amount, to cover taxi fare and incidental expenses, as he explained."

So the dirty rat was charging for their services, as she had suspected. She'd have bet a pretty that he had nicked this one for fifty. "How about your friend over there?" she asked curiously.

"Oh, he's not my friend," Fred hurried to inform her. "That is, I don't really know him. He came driving up just as I arrived."

So Bert owned the Jaguar. She turned her head to look at him. He and Betty were still talking up a storm.

"What do you want to talk about?" She took a chance at scaring him off by impulsively putting her hand on his and stroking it.

"Oh, nothing in particular. Just-talking." He looked around the room uneasily. "But not here, with everyone listening. Isn't there somewhere we could go-"

"Bedroom's vacant." Harry raised his head and regarded them blandly.

So the dirty bastard had been listening, after all. He didn't miss a trick, that one. "What do you say?" she asked her companion. "I'm afraid there isn't anywhere else."

He folded his hands and unfolded them again and cleared his throat nervously. "I suppose there'll be chairs in there, won't there?" he inquired.

"Of course." And a big wide bed with a drip cover on it too, you poor fish. The thought of the bed roused her. For the first time, she took time out to wonder how he was hung. She could go for him, she reflected. He seemed to have a strong back. Now, if he had anything to drive with it. "We can sit and tell each other all about ourselves, with nobody to bother us." Ducky, she told herself. About as interesting as musical chairs. But it would be a start. "Come on. Let's go." She got up and took his hand.

Betty looked up, smiling happily. Bert had his arm around her. His hand was within an inch of her tits. In another minute, he'll be playing with her nipples. So what the hell? She could take care of herself. They could screw their asses .off on the couch. It was just possible that the bed would be occupied.

Harry gave her the eye, nodding imperceptibly, and Fred followed her down the hall like a lamb. In the bedroom, he considered the plastic sheet for a minute, then pulled the two chairs together and sat down. "Well, this is cozy," he decided. He kept staring at the plastic on the bed as though it fascinated him. "What a good idea," he said, as Barbara sat down beside him. "Keeps the dust off and all that." If by "all that" he meant come and pee and an occasional trace of shit, she figured, he was perfectly correct. She wondered what he would say if she told him.

She had left her purse in the living room and now that she didn't have one, she wanted a cigarette to fiddle with while she reviewed the situation. She thought of kissing him and putting her hand on his leg and decided that might run him off. A glance at his crotch made her a little more hopeful. Whether he knew it or not, he was getting an erection. It was not very hard yet but it was there, pushing down one side of his suit pants and promising to be interesting. She felt the old excitement running through her as she wondered if he was circumcised. A long foreskin, she had found, bunched up behind the head of the penis, made a ridge like on the dildo. Her clitoris twitched as she thought about it.

She made up her mind. "You said you wanted to talk," she mentioned. At once, then, she leaned against him and put her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. "How's that for openers, Reverend?"

"Oh, no. You mustn't-I mean I'm not ordained yet." He wiped his lips with the back of a hand, looking startled.

"Oh, come now." Idly, she let a hand fall on his knee. "It wasn't that bad, was it? How long is it since a girl kissed you like that?" Her hand slid a little higher.

"What? Oh, let me see. Quite some time. I really don't remember." He kept his eyes away from hers but made no move to disengage himself. His cock, she noticed, was growing. Now was the time to set the hook.

"Look." She sat up and took her hand away. "Who's kidding who? You're a guy and I'm a girl. You haven't taken any vows yet, have you?"

"Er-no." He was floundering. "It's just that.. . . "

"It's just that you want to go and your conscience says no. Is that it? Scout's honor, now."

He looked positively miserable. When she reached out to touch him again, he tried to get up but she pushed him back into the chair. "I'll be your new conscience," she whispered. "You can have the other one back tomorrow." Without giving him a chance to say yes or no, she moved her hand. Her exploring fingers found his zipper and opened it. His big white prick came thrusting out and she leaned down quickly and kissed the peeling head.

In the living room, Harry stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "You lovebirds can have it," he' conceded. "I'm going to walk around."

The first thing that struck Betty was the change in him. What could have come over him, she wondered. He admittedly got his kicks out of watching people screw and here he was walking out on them. "Sorry I don't have another bed," he apologized to Bert. He was whistling under his breath when he went out and closed the door.

"That's a break." Bert put his hand inside her dress to play with her firm tits. "I thought he'd never go."

She barely listened. Her brassiere was loose enough for him to find her nipples. As soon as he touched them, she stopped breathing, holding her breath back to get the full savor of the rapturous feeling sweeping through her and making her forget everything else except the desire to have him mount her and take her quickly.

He wasn't much to look at. He needed a little more chin and he could have used more height to advantage. But the erection she put her hand on when he tried to get her tits out of her dress and suck them was the biggest she had yet come across. After all, a man didn't screw with his chin. It was what he had downstairs that counted.

She pushed him away gently and got up to take her clothes off, wondering, how many times she had done that already in this same living room. When she looked around, he was standing in his shorts and she tried to smother a gasp when she saw the enormous penis jutting out of them.

"What's the matter, honey?" he asked, half mockingly. "Don't tell me you haven't seen a horny cock before. I know different. Your boss told me all about you."

"My boss?" She frowned as she dropped her bra on the chair with the rest of her clothing. "What are you talking about?"

"Harry. Who else? He told me you were the best lay in town."

"Why, that-" She bit her tongue. Bitching would not do anything to relieve the quick disappointment.

He seemed to read her mind. "Don't tell me you thought it was love." He was jeering openly now. "You're a pretty chick. You've got what it takes to satisfy me. That's all."

"You paid him, didn't you?" She was steadier now that it was out in the open. She even felt curious, wondering what she was worth.

"Yes, sweetheart, I paid him. He said there would not be any extras, in case you're in the mood to up the price. So let's fuck."

"How much?" she persisted.

He laughed shortly. "Well, he asked for a yard. I gave him fifty until I looked the merchandise over."

She found that she was past bitterness. "I hope you like what you see. Just to keep the score straight, I wouldn't take that thing of yours for a thousand cash. It's too big."

He surprised her by not showing resentment.

"That's what they all say. Next you're going to tell me you'll suck it Right?"

The excitement of anticipation had all drained out of her. She felt listless, uninterested. "I'll try, if you like," she nodded.

"What happened?" He looked her over carefully. "A while ago, you were all for me. Now it's as if I wasn't here."

When she remained silent, he went on. "Well, I paid for you, so I guess I'll just have to help myself. You can forget the gobbling bit. When I was a kid, I used to stand on my head and blow myself. It's no fun now."

"What do you want, then? Let's get it over with."

"I'll tell you. I'm a tit man. I'm going to put my cock between those nice white knockers of yours and give you a warm bath."

"Is that all? For fifty dollars, all you want to do is come in my boobies?" It sounded little enough. She could hardly believe that he was serious.

"Wait until you see. Then maybe you'll catch on. Just lie on your back with a pillow under your shoulders. Let me run the show. Okay?"

The leather of the couch was not as smooth as the plastic bed cover. There was a ridge in the middle that cut into her uncomfortably. Maybe he wouldn't take long. Closing her eyes, she said tonelessly, "Come on."

Barbara was not sure whether she wanted to fuck or just lie there and laugh. It had taken her twenty minutes to get the prospective seminary student's pants off. He had consented to surrender his shirt but he kept his skivvies and undershirt on. And his socks. He was wearing a pair of bright purple garters, the first she had ever seen on a man. The others, when they wore any socks at all, had always preferred the calf-hugging type.

He stood there with his erect prick bulging his shorts, not meeting her eyes, unsure what to do next Still not looking at her, he shivered a little. "You know," he said, after a minute, "this is not what I had in mind. Not at all. It's-well, it's indecent."

"What's indecent about it?" she challenged him. "Did your mother and dad think it was indecent?"

"That was different-"

"How do yon know it was different? You weren't there."

"No, of course. But-well, you see, they were married."

"So what? Did that make it legal?"

"I suppose so." He sounded miserable and glanced over at his trousers, as though reminded to put them back on.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Barbara got off the bed in a hurry. "I've got you this far. It's too late to change your mind"

While she was talking, she put her hand down and found his hard penis. As her fingers closed around it, she wondered what sort of a man it took to keep an erection that long and not do anything about it except argue. She had done it with guys who liked to talk a fuck before screwing but never one who put it down. Gently, she massaged the tense shaft, drawing the foreskin completely over the moist head, then pushing it back until her hand was touching his balls. "Let's go," she whispered in his ear and, on impulse, stuck her tongue into it. When he jerked his head back, she smiled at him encouragingly. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"

"N-no. It's not that-" He looked over at the door and she left him to go and close it. "There!" she said, when she had set the lock. "Nobody will know now except you and I."

"God will know." She wanted to laugh again because, unconsciously, he was fingering his penis, rubbing it slowly while he looked down at the floor.

"I don't think God will blow the whistle on us just because we're making love," she ventured. What did you do with a guy like this?

He looked up quickly. He was not frowning now. For the first time since they, had begun to talk, he met her cool gaze and did not move his eyes away. "Love?" He appeared to be talking to himself. "Is that what it is? Really?"

"Well, I wouldn't call it hate. Unless you're in the mood to rape me."

"Oh, goodness, no!" He continued to play absently with his penis, as though not realizing what he was doing. Perhaps he jacked off, like Harry, to satisfy his conscience and keep away from women. His prick, she noticed, was if anything getting harder for the handling. "I could never do anything like that." He finally appeared to notice what he was doing and took his hand away quickly.

"Oh, come on!" Barbara was running out of patience. "Let's do it or quit. Do you want to go back to the others?"

She read his hesitation in the way he looked over at his pants, making no move to put them back on. On an impulse, she sat up and got rid of the slip she had used to cover her crotch and titties in order not to stampede him. Then she lay back, waiting. It was high time, she reflected, for nature to take its course.

Slowly, he walked over to the bed but instead of getting on it, he sat on the edge with his back to her. "Do you really believe that people do this because they love each other?" There was an eagerness in his tone, as though it was important for him to know.

"Yes." She was getting cold and the damn plastic under her was no help. "Of course I do." If he thought she was going to lie there and discuss philosophy all evening, he was nuts. And she wanted him. That standing cock was an answer to a girl's prayer. It might be near holy but she'd bet it could make her happy. She reached over to take his hand. She was about to put it on her pussy when she changed her mind and lifted it to cup a breast. When she felt his fingers searching for the nipple, she relaxed.

"I suppose you're right. Young people are so clever at defining things these days." Her nipple was hardening under his groping and she put her hand under his to bunch her tit. Whether it was that or the conviction that it was love which made the world go round was something only he could have told her. In place of enlightening her, he turned around and she imagined he jumped a bit when he saw her white nakedness stretched out, waiting for him. He looked away hurriedly, then turned his head back for another inspection.

When he spoke again, his voice was husky, as though he needed to clear his throat. "Would you believe me if I told you that this is the first time I ever saw a naked woman?"

"Don't worry. You won't go blind," she assured him dryly. "Come on over here. But first, take those shorts off."

He had big balls. They hung low between his thighs when he stood up to get rid of his skivvies. She had another impulse to get off the bed and take them in her hand and play with them. She'd do it, anyway. She had made up her mind to make him take her dog fashion. She wanted every inch of that stiff prick in her and the back way would allow him to get everything inside except his nuts. Then she could reach back between her own thighs and punkin-seed them while he screwed her pussy.

He was slow in getting back onto the bed. He put a knee on it tentatively. She reached up for him with both arms and pulled him down on top of her and nibbled his tit and felt for his prick, all in the same motion. There was something to be said for delaying the action, a corner of her mind registered. It made the final action all the more satisfying. His weight felt good on her belly. She knew she could have come easily, just working on his nipples like that and feeling the hardness of his penis. But she had waited this long. Now she wanted more. She wanted the sensation of that horn plowing her vagina and rubbing her clitoris and the final pleasure when he gave her his jetting semen.

"Would you do something for me?" she released his nipple to inquire demurely.

"Of course. Anything." He was a little breathless from fucking her hand.

At once, she shoved him off her and rolled over on her face. Burying her head in the pillow, she reached back and patted a buttock. "This way," she said muffledly. And then he was in her, purple garters and all.

Betty opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling, then closed them again. In spite of her resentment, Bert's huge horn driving between her pressed-together tits and the solid impact of his balls were doing things to her. She had been resigned to letting him take her that way because there was nothing else she could do. Harry had them cold and this one had bought her, like she was something for sale. Bitterly, she had realized that she was just that, as long as Harry held onto that goddamned negative.

Her hand moved around Bert's hairy thigh to find her clitoris. It was standing when she put a finger on it. The contact, added to the thrill that she was being screwed, if only in the boobies, sent a quick shiver through her. He had told her to leave the fucking to him. By that, she imagined he meant for her to lie still and let him do his thing on her without interruption. However, he had said nothing about getting her own kicks. She eased her finger deeper into her pussy. The hell with him.

She decided that she hated him for treating her as if she was a cheap whore. Her interest, she assured herself, was purely physical, as though she were masturbating as she used to do before Harry's dildo got her cherry. All the same, it was very pleasant. She supposed that the mere contact with a man made everything more real and exciting. She remembered now that jacking herself off had been a lonesome experience. After coming, she had felt empty and nervous.

She put her free hand up to pull at his fingers. He was pressing her tits too hard, hurting them in his haste to create more friction around his plunging shaft. His thing was not only thick, it was long enough almost to touch her throat when he pushed it hard. It made her think of the jackass in the pasture. She wanted to play with his thumping balls but she kept her hand away from them, thinking he might not like it. Her boobies were going to be black and blue, she just knew. His hands were rough with them. The discomfort in some way added to her arousal and she allowed him to squeeze them without protest.

The pressure was holding his foreskin still, so that the shaft of his prick was fucking through it. She had got the same sensation when Sam and Tommy had done a few strokes in her hand. It was better in her tits. They must be more sensitive, she thought. Still cupping them, he put his thumbs on her erect nipples, rubbing them lightly as his hardness slid in and out. The son-of-a-bitch. He must be concerned about her feeling after all, unless teasing her like that added to his own pleasure. More-likely, it was part of his thing. He had seemed interested in her fair white body when he straddled her and shoved her breasts together around his cock. Nothing else appeared to worry him.

He had not said a word since mounting her. He screwed slowly, evidently enjoying every part of it, unwilling to step up the action until absolutely necessary. She did not care, as long as he didn't take all night. The ridge in the couch was more uncomfortable with his crotch bearing down on her like that but the growing excitement was worth it. With her eyes closed, she didn't have to look at him and she tried to believe that her finger was really his big cock in her cunt.

She heard him draw his breath in quickly and she rubbed her clitoris harder, sensing that he was about to come. The bastard would probably shoot off all over her. He had said he was going to give her a bath.

His fingers on her breasts were like iron clamps. Now his strokes were mere jerks of his hips. His balls pounded against her chest in a kind of fury and he began to breathe through his mouth. She listened to him gasping as though he couldn't get enough air. He called out something just before he began to come. The first warm drops sprayed her mouth and chin.

"There now!" Barbara rolled onto her back and put her knees down. It was getting dark in the bedroom. She could barely see her partner sitting back on his heels, squeezing the last drops of semen out of his cock and regarding it with astonishment. "That wasn't hard to take, was it?"

It had been a wonderful fuck, worth all the argument and persuasion. Once he was in her pussy, he screwed like an old hand at it. He seemed to know just where the sensitive areas were, lingering over her clitoris long enough to make her vagina throb, thrusting deep into her and staying tight up against her womb to splash his semen on it. He must have been saving it up. Maybe he really was a cock virgin. She had come twice while he was still squirting. Now she felt satisfied. A good fuck always relaxed her.

She was about to get up and go to the bathroom when she heard his voice. "God is love," the potential prelate intoned. "His will be done."

She ran into the bathroom and closed the door so that he would not hear her laughing.