Chapter 5
At that moment they noticed Jon standing at the open door, leaning against the frame, drink in one hand and martini pitcher in the other.
"Well, I was beginning to think you both had divorced me. I didn't know you were conducting a class. You could get a job at the studio, Sonja."
Charlene could feel her bare nipples begin to harden and an excited shiver go down her spine as she looked at Jon. He looked so damned appealing in his white tennis shorts. He hadn't had a job for a while in between pictures as they said in the film industry so he played tennis every day.
"Come in. Join the party." Sonja said.
"I'm bringing the party to you. Want a refill?"
Sonja held her glass out to him as he poured. "I don't think you'd better have any before driving across town, Charlene," she said.
"Mr. M. gave me a Scotch before I drove home." She began to step into her dress.
"Scotch isn't as potent as martinis." Sonja wrinkled her forehead. "You know, that's a thought. I don't want you to do a lot of drinking and drive home late tonight. You'd better pack a bag."
"Mother! Just what am I expected to do with this man?" Sonja looked surprised. "Didn't Mr. M. make that clear to you?"
"He said I was to be very nice to him. Whatever that means."
Sonja became exasperated. Jon sat down on the bed with a silly grin on his face. "What do you think it means, Charlene? That you should play a nice game of chess with him?" Charlene blushed brighter than her Blush.
"Jon." Sonja turned to him. "Sorry, but you're going to have to cut Charlene off. Fun and games are all very well as long as they don't affect her career. Maybe when she gets a little hard up her understanding will improve."
This statement made Charlene bristle. "Listen, Mother, you may tell me how to make-up, but you can't tell me who to make! I don't notice you bothering much with anyone else since you've been going with Jon."
"Listen, young lady, I have earned my wings. Besides, I think I've been a most generous mother, sharing Jon with you." She noticed Charlene struggling with the zipper of her dress and went to help her with it.
Charlene held herself in check, for she knew this was true. As much as Jon enjoyed making love to her, Charlene knew he'd drop her in a minute if it disturbed the cushy setup he had with Sonja. He had just "sort of brought" all his belongings over one day, letting his apartment go. Before that, he had been there most of the time anyway, so Sonja hadn't objected. But he wasn't paying any household expenses, not even entertainment expenses. No, Jon would definitely not cross Sonja. She glanced at him. He was sipping his drink, his bronzed face inscrutable.
Charlene tried a different tactic. "All right, Mom, you win. What do I do? Fuck the guy?"
"Well, now, I don't know if that's what he'll want. Maybe he'll just want you to go down on him."
"Oh, Mother! I couldn't. I don't even know how."
"What?" Sonja shot Jon a questioning glance. He concentrated on his drink.
Sonja moved toward him, stood straight in front of him. "Jon." The tone of her voice commanded his attention. He looked up, his face bland. "Jon, you've been fucking and sucking my daughter at least once a day for almost two weeks. Do you mean to say that you haven't been instructing her in the fine art of fellatio?"
"No, I haven't even taught her to suck cock," he joked vainly.
"For Christ's sake! I thought I could depend on you to give her the full treatment. Why in hell haven't you?"
"I've got to go, Mother," Charlene interjected.
"Not so fast, young lady." She put out her hand to physically restrain Charlene if need be. "But I'll be late, Mother."
"I'll call him after you leave and tell him you've been detained. He'll thank me later. Jon, answer me."
"Well," he shrugged, "Goddamnit, Sonja, you're the best cocksucker in the world. I just didn't worry about not getting my cock sucked when I was with Charlene. I figured I could save that for you."
"Oh, did you, now? Well, you can just figure again. Charlene, come here."
Sonja's tone was very authoritative. Charlene did as she was told. "Jon, get your shorts off."
Jon anticipated what was to happen next, and by the time his shorts were off his manhood was already in full bloom.
"Let me help you out of that dress, Charlene. No use getting it messed up."
"What about my make-up, Mother?"
"Nobody's going to do anything to you, my dear, so just be careful and your make-up'll keep perfectly." Charlene seemed under control, so Sonja turned her attention to Jon, who, predictably, was very manageable.
"Sit right on the edge of the bed, Jon," Sonja commanded. To her daughter, she said, "Okay, Charlene, get on the floor in between his legs. That's it. Kneel. A subservient position always gives men like Hershfield an extra thrill."
Charlene did as she was told. Jon's large penis, staring her directly in the face, was producing a moistness between her thighs. Instinctively, she put her lips to the huge purplish glans in an affectionate kiss.
"That's very sweet, baby... " Sonja remarked, "... for starters. Now take his cock into your mouth. Slowly. That's right, take it all. I know it's a big one, but get all of it you can. Start out slowly and flick your tongue around as you're moving up and down. But that's something I can't really see, so I can't judge. You'll have to speak up, Jon."
"She's doing fine. Just fine," Jon said dreamily. "I want to lie down."
Charlene was sure she was dripping now. Oh, this gorgeous cock, she thought. I'd like to put it in me. I'd like to get on top of him right now and fuck like crazy. I'd like to feel it all the way up to my lungs.
"Okay, you do that. And, Charlene, you get up on the bed still between his legs. Cup his balls in one hand, be affectionate, lick them for good measure. That's right. Now, come back to the cock. Before you put your mouth over it again, lick it like it's a lollipop."
Jon's breathing was becoming heavier and he was making sounds of pleasure.
"That's it, baby," he moaned. "That's good. Good!"
Charlene had encompassed his penis again and was moving up and down, in faster and faster piston strokes, deeper and deeper. The youthful girl was a natural, and Sonja did not fail to recognize this valuable point. Not yet the pro, perhaps, that her mother was, Charlene had none the less displayed a natural talent. Sonja had mixed emotions.
Jon was obviously on the verge of exploding when Sonja pulled Charlene away and said, "Okay, that's fine, baby. Go brush your teeth and pack an overnight bag."
"Hey! What is this?" Jon rasped, visibly shaken.
"Don't worry, hon," Sonja smiled, "hold on a second, and the chief cocksucker'll take care of things don't go 'way."
"Mother, I'll have to do more than just brush my teeth. My dress will be soaked if I don't wash myself."
"You'll do no such thing. Your dress isn't going to get soaked, so you just leave everything as is. That way, when our Hershfield sticks his finger in you during dinner, unless I miss my guess she'll find a hot, wet cunt. Now, let's finish your lesson." She followed Charlene into the bathroom and continued her instructions as Charlene brushed her teeth. "When he comes if he likes to come that ways wallow it all, and act as if you're deliriously happy for the opportunity. Then lick his cock dry."
"Oh, Mother! I don't even want to go down on him much less swallow the stuff!"
"I don't give a shit what you want to do. Just do it. And remember, a thing worth doing is worth doing well. So make him believe you love it. Now, come on. Fix your lipstick, throw some things in a bag and get your ass out of here."
A few minutes later, as Charlene was hurrying down the stairs, she called up, "Mother, don't forget to make that call to Mr. Hershfield. I'm late now."
"I won't, darling," Sonja answered, leaning over the railing. "Have a good time. Drive carefully. Oh, and Charlene... "
"Yes, Mother?"
"... did you remember to take your pill today?"
"Yes, Mother."
"That's a good girl."
The front door slammed shut. Sonja began taking her clothes off while walking back to Charlene's bedroom to complete a job that was really no job at all. She tried vainly to remember if she had ever had to "pretend" she liked ingesting men's semen. She thought not. She allowed her pink tongue to flick out in a lip-moistening motion, a motion which clearly revealed her anticipation.
Monarchs have been known as "The Lion-Hearted,"
"The Ill-Tempered," and so on, and the Prince of the sportswear buyers was no exception. Throughout the industry, the name of "Hershfield, the Arrogant" was well-known.
He had reserved the darkest corner in an elite, commodious, poorly illuminated restaurant. By prior arrangement, he had been assured he and his striking young lady would be seated side by side, rather than facing one another.
Mom was right, Charlene thought. They had only begun their salads and already she could feel Hershfield's hand find its way through the slit in her dress to the inside of her knee.
"First job modeling, huh?" he said, apparently offering a vocal distraction in the belief his hand might not be noticed. "You're a natural, honey. You'll go a long way. Provided you don't just stick yourself in a downtown wholesale house. If you want to make the big money, you've got to circulate."
"Oh, I know that, Mr. Hershfield... "
"Hershey to you, baby."
"Hershey. I'll only be working for Mr. M. for half the year, and the rest of the time I'll be freelancing. He's letting me come in late one day next week so I can go on an interview for a hair commercial. And if I make it, it'll probably come up when I'm through for a while with Hollywood Sunwear."
"You'll make it." He put his fork down and ran his hand over her hair. "You've got a great face to go with that beautiful hair. How can you miss?"
"Well, I haven't seen my competition," Charlene answered, trying not to succumb to the flattery. Then, as if the conversation had suddenly become very secondary, a silence fell over the two as Charlene realized that Hershfield's hand was on the move. She flinched as his hand moved higher up the inside of her thigh.
"Spread your legs, honey. Let Hershey get acquainted with your cute little friend up there."
Charlene felt flushed. She hadn't expected things to go this fast. Fortunately, she had had a couple of martinis.
"Oh, but Mr. I mean, Hershey. Isn't it a little soon to... "
"Don't get coy with me. Just do what I tell you to do."
Charlene definitely detected a mean tone in his voice. She spread her legs enough to allow his hand to move around freely.
"That's better," he said, treating her to a smile. "Hey, what's this? Underpants?"
"Well, yes. Of course."
"Go to the ladies' room and take them off."
"What!" Charlene could hardly believe her ears.
"You heard me go take them off."
"Right now?"
"Right now." And then, when she didn't jump up immediately, he added gruffly, "When I say right now, sister, I mean a minute ago."
Charlene put her fork down. Oh, well, she thought resignedly, I guess I'd better play it his way. She looked down ruefully at the barely touched salad and thought, Oh, well. I only wanted a bite or two anyway. Besides, the dressing probably contained too many calories.
"Wait a minute," he said as she stood up. He fished into his pocket and pulled out a new fifty-cent piece.
"For the girl."
In the ladies' room she removed her panties. She was quick to discover that all the lubrication from earlier had disappeared. In fact, being with Mr. Hershfield seemed to have dried her up. She opened a tube of vaseline a precautionary article Sonja had insisted she bring along and spread it around her clitoris-again per Sonja's instructions. As she touched her tiny mound, she felt a thrill shoot through her body. She put on more and rubbed it in. Well, she thought, I might even get naturally lubricated again if I keep this up.
She washed her hands, tipped the girl, and walked back to the table, feeling the fabric of her dress rub sensuously against her now-bare buttocks.
The steaks had just arrived, and Charlene's attention was immediately diverted to the food. But it was not to be. As soon as she was seated, Hershfield's hand dove through the slit in her dress and up between her thighs. "Open wide, baby," he said.
Charlene obeyed.
"Oh, baby!" he exclaimed as his finger explored her vulva. "You're all ready for the ol' Hershey bar." He laughed uproariously at his own joke.
Charlene shivered physically at the idea. Nothing, she thought, could be less romantic or less funny. Hershfield detected the shiver also, but misconstrued it as representing excitement, anticipation.
"Hardly wait, huh? Well, hurry up and eat your steak, so good ole Hershey can take care of you."
He had to take his hand away in order to cut his steak. For this, at least, Charlene was thankful. "Stay as lovely as you are," he said as he gave her a few parting pats on the pubic hair.
"Yes, sir, I'm going to place a huge order with Mr. M., baby. I think I'll just drop Leisure Line and give it all to Hollywood Sunwear. And all because of you! What the hell, Hollywood Sun-wear can give me everything I need in the sportswear line."
As easy as that! Just think, all I've had to do was spread my legs a little and now it seems to be all set. That was the whole point, wasn't it? Get the business?
For an insane instant Charlene thought perhaps she might have already completed her assignment. Maybe I can just go home after dinner. Then, sobering from such thoughts, she realized there was still a game to be played. However, a certain tension seemed to have been lessened, and Charlene heaved a sigh of relief. Turning to him she asked, "What else do you buy, Hershey?"
"You name it, sweetheart. I've got to fill up a hundred and fifty stores with wearing apparel. Hey, a thought just came to me. They got some gorgeous fake fur-trimmed coats out this year. You know, fake on account of the ecology bit but beautiful, just the same." He favored her with a twinkle in his watery blue eyes, then "If you're really super-sweet to me, I'll bring you one next trip. September. When I come out for the holiday market week. You'll get it just in time for the cool weather."
Charlene wasn't really sure whether to take all this too seriously, so she simply smiled and murmured her thanks.
The bus boy cleared the dishes away and the waiter reappeared. "Dessert, honey?"
Charlene nodded. She felt full, but wanted to stall the inevitable as long as possible. Hershfield's face fell. "Ya do? I thought all you models skipped fattening things."
"I never put on weight. Could I have some cheesecake?"
He smiled again. "'Course. You can have anything you want, baby." He turned to the waiter. "Cheesecake for the lady."
"Will there be anything for you, sir?"
"No, I'll have my dessert later," he answered, casting a knowing glance at Charlene.
She thought she would die of embarrassment. Why the need for such obviousness? The waiter did not acknowledge the crass remark.
"We'll have liqueur sent up to the suite. No more sitting around in public, baby... I want us to be alone." With that he leaned toward her, insinuated his hand between her thighs once again and forcefully jabbed his finger into her vagina.
As soon as the room door was closed Hershfield grabbed Charlene in a rough embrace. "Kick off your shoes, honey. Come on down to my size."
Charlene obeyed impassively, and then they stood nose to nose, the Junoesque mannequin and her Chaplinesque escort.
"That's better," he said, stepping forward and pinching her breast. "Boy, you feel good. Come on, let's go into the bedroom and get that dress off. I wanna see you."
At least, Charlene thought, she had by this time gotten over her modesty. It seemed she was forever standing around at the factory clad only in panties. If they weren't fitting her, she was trying on something, and the workers would just come and go, not paying the least bit of attention. That was not quite the case now as she stepped out of her dress, but the shop experience did help some.
Hershfield's eyes brightened as he appraised Charlene's beauty.
"What a perfect body. You've got it all, kid." With that, he leaped forward and grabbed a handful of bare buttocks. "What an ass! And these tits!" He tried to devour one with his mouth.
Charlene quickly realized she would soon be a mass of bruises at this rate. She was used to Jon, who was masculine, but a tender lover. Real men, she knew, don't have to play the "manliness" game.
He took his mouth away. "Hey, you know, you got the best-lookin' pair of knockers I've ever seen on a model. They are really pretty. Get the bed down. I'll be right back." He disappeared into the bathroom.
Please, for God's sake, take your time.
But she promptly obeyed this most recent order, just as she had the preceding. It seemed as if in some strange way the bombastic Mr. Hershfield had a way of mesmerizing her with his officiousness. Then, on a much more pragmatic level, she told herself, What the hell! I'm earning a fat Christmas bonus just by permitting a little fat guy to boss me around. Why, if it wasn't such a dreary experience, it might almost be funny!
She sat on the bed, fluffed the pillows, and then settled back against them, scrutinizing the room. It was luxurious by any standards French provincial furniture, heavy drapes, carpeting deep enough to get lost in.
What am I doing here? she asked herself. But before she could think too deeply upon the matter, Mr. Hershfield reappeared in his full glory. His plump, milky body was as bare as his head. She had to restrain a giggle, for he reminded her of the New Year's baby. That went for his penis, too. Oh, God, she thought, if I'm to get anything out of this, I'll have to start from scratch.
He sat down, bouncily, beside her. "I'll ring for the drinks," he announced. "What d'ya want?"
Charlene felt like saying a bottle of vodka then perhaps she could just pass out and simplify things. But her better senses prevailed. "Creme de cacao, please."
He ordered the drinks, then turned to Charlene. "Let's just fool around a little till they come." He grabbed her physically and pressed his lips hard against hers. She could feel the hardness of his teeth as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Immediately, by contrast, she thought of Jon's soft, loving, sensual kisses even Tom could kiss better than this supposedly experienced man.
He ran his hands over her as if he were handling a bale of hay, and again by contrast she thought of Jon's sensitive hands, of his caresses... Oh, a man's touch is so important, she thought, trying hard not to shudder.
A sudden knock on the door caused Hershfield to jump up and grab his robe from a chair. "Don't go away, little dumplin'. ol' Hershey'll be right back with the goodies."
The drinks were delivered and Charlene had time for but one small sip of hers when Hershfield grabbed it out of her hand, at the same time pushing her head down to his crotch. "Here, I'll give ya somethin' better to taste."
The dreaded moment had arrived she was now face-to-face with his tiny, limp penis. Almost as a defensive maneuver, she closed her eyes and tried vainly to pretend it was Jon's lovely cock she was about to take in her mouth.
Somehow she knew that she would have to successfully perpetuate this fantasy if she was to survive the evening with her own identity intact. Keeping also in mind that she must not come across to her "patron" as a novice, she started slowly the way her mother had instructed. She swirled her tongue, she licked, she kissed his balls, all seemingly to no avail, since his penis remained as flaccid as ever. And yet, he complimented her.
"Say, you're some kinda expert, aren't you? Who taught you to suck cock like that?"
Charlene stopped long enough to say, "My mother."
Hershfield's face broke out in a mirthful smile, the first of the evening. "I see you've got a good sense of humor, too."
Taking advantage of the temporary pause, and also feeling the need to lose herself as much as possible, Charlene stopped her work to take a sip of her drink. Hershfield knocked the glass out of her hand. "I didn't say you could stop."
Charlene stared at him.
"Get back to your job!" His order was accompanied by a sharp slap on her bare buttocks. For the first time that evening she was unable to control her own temper. "Don't you dare slap me!" she snapped.
"Oh, a temper, huh?" He smiled nastily. Then he seized her in a quick grasp and pulled her over his knee, whereupon he proceeded unceremoniously to spank her. Not as hard as her father had, but quite a spanking just the same.
"Stop it!" she screamed. "I moved in with my mother because my father did this to me!"
"I'm not hurtin' you," Hershfield interrupted without missing a stroke, "I'm just showing you who's boss."
"If you make marks on me, my mother will kill you! I don't care how important you are!"
He slapped away. "I'm not going to make any marks. Are you going to be a good girl?"
"Yes. Stop. Please stop."
"Okay." He pulled her up. The tears ran down her cheeks.
Through teary eyes she saw his smiling face and then, lower down, evidence of what she hadn't been able to achieve with all of her expert sucking his erection.
He pushed her down on the bed and stuck his finger in her vagina. "You're nice and wet, baby, and now you're gonna get a nice Hershey bar up there."
Charlene thought how odd it was that she was, indeed, wet. And she did feel like getting fucked it was a strange mixture of repulsion and sexual desire. But before she could consider it at all, perhaps submit willingly, he plunged his penis completely within her wet folds.
This is more like it, she thought if he'd just fuck me and cut out the other crap it wouldn't be half bad. She was actually getting into the swing of things, beginning to let go, when on about the fifth sharp jab he began shaking and cried, "Oh, I'm coming, baby. I'm coming!" Then he pressed his hard mouth against hers in a suffocating fusion.
A minute later, he rolled off and said, "Baby, you are the greatest." Even as he said this, he was trying hard to catch his breath, as if his five quick strokes had been five hundred, and his forehead and cheeks seemed highly flushed. Calming somewhat, he turned to Charlene and said in a softer voice, "I'll tell you a secret. I haven't been able to get my cock hard enough to fuck for a year. I was beginning to think I was impotent that is, until tonight. Boy, we're gonna fuck every night I'm in town." His continuing brusque tone could not conceal the fact that he was highly elated.
When Charlene was sure he was asleep, she tiptoed into the bathroom, cleaned up and dressed. It was only midnight and she wasn't about to hang around for another session in a few hours. She'd done her duty, she wasn't drunk, and she could drive home without any assistance. If her mother didn't like it, let her go out with good ol' Hershey herself, chew on his bar, get spanked, have his "ol' bar" shoved in her just long enough to get her interested and then leave her frustrated.
Besides, she felt turned on, and if she hurried home there might still be some leftovers.
And not in the refrigerator.