Chapter 9
The sun poured into the windows of their penthouse apartment. It was a Sunday morning, months and months after their honeymoon. Things were pretty much back to normal, and they were enjoying a delicious breakfast of fried eggs, hash browns and bacon, along with coffee that was made from beans which hadn't been stored in some warehouse for months. It was fresh off the docks through some of Tom's business contacts.
The scars from his experience had healed slowly, but they had healed. Only the week before had he finally broken off his meetings with one of the most skilled psychiatrists in New York. For most of the time, he had been on a leave of absence.
One thing was for sure and it was that despite whatever mental scars had formed inside Tom's mind, he had never lost his appetite for good sex.
That had been a tremendous relief to Sarah.
Breaking a croissant in half, Tom chewed reflectively for a few moments and then said, "You know I think I have an idea."
"This," he said, lifting up the tray and putting it on the floor, then throwing back the covers.
"What are you doing?"
"I think I'll try some spread on your spread." and so saying he dipped the little marmalade spoon into the marmalade, then wiped the sticky substance on Sarah's dry cunt.
It was not however, dry for long.
Tom quickly began to lick it clean, scooping out the little clumps which got into her pubic hairs, lapping up the thin little layer on her clit. "How's that?" he asked. "I've been eaten by the best of them," she said, "But no one ever did it with marmalade."
"It tastes pretty damned good. Mind if I do it some more?"
"Mind? I was just about to suggest you get back to it."
As he licked she let the waves of pleasure spread through her body. Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Hey, Tom. I just got an idea for a new product."
"What?" he asked, his tongue deep inside her wet tasty pussy
"I mean I was thinking, you know, what does Marmalade remind you of?"
"Well, it's what almost everything else reminds you of, it's come."
"Exactly. I wonder if there's a way to make flavored come?"
"I don't know, Sarah. I mean all anyone has to do is get some Marmalade, or some honey, or some strawberry jam." He put his tongue back to her cunt and with a particularly deft lick sent her into a short paroxysm of pleasure When it was over, she said, "Yeah, but what if you're out camping? You can't just hop to the store then."
"That's a very good point, Sarah. Maybe you should arrange a meeting with someone who's a marketing expert." He was up out of her cunt now, wiping his face with a napkin. "That was quite tasty."
She pouted. "You're just humoring me,"
"Sarah, I've told you over a hundred times, I think you're a genius."
"Ha."
He eased her body down on to hers, so that he could feel the plumpness of her incredible breasts.
"You see the secret of being a genius, is not that you just get one good idea, it's that you get an incredible number of just plain ideas and that you just keep plugging, you know, you try them out. Lots of them are going to suck, but some of them will pay off big. Who knows, maybe marmalade flavored come is the marketing break through of tomorrow."
"You're full of it," she said, "Kiss me."
He did. It tasted like wet pussy and marmalade. She liked it.
"Hey let me try that on you."
"With pleasure." He rolled over and picked the marmalade off the floor.
She spread it on all up and down his big veiny shaft giving special attention to the head, and trying to arrange it so that the marmalade looked like come drippings.
"Maybe," she said, as she appraised the results, "It wouldn't even have to be flavored. It could just be colored."
"Jesus Christ, Sarah, Did I spend half of a lazy Sunday morning putting it in you?"
"God, you're selfish," she said teasing him. "I think that aside from it's stickiness and somewhat jelly like texture, marmalade is inappropriate for cocks." She jumped back up and ran into the kitchen, returning in a matter of seconds with a jar of imported mustard.
She proceeded to spread it on over the marmalade.
"Mustard?" he said. "I mean why does everyone have to try to improve on a good thing?"
"Well, Tom, this is going to be good." ' He wrinkled his face with disgust. "It's just too bad that you don't have the flexibility to bend on down and lick it off yourself."
"Hey, Sarah."
"Yes," she said, concentrating on making sure that there was not a single piece of bare flesh underneath her marmalade mustard concoction.
"I don't see you licking your own pussy."
"Good point, Tom, but why should I? Isn't that why I married you." She put the mustard and marmalade down on the floor. "I wish I'd thought of it before I put on the marmalade," she said somewhat hesitantly.
"Suck, wench."
"But I mean your cock looks like a big old foot long. I just had to put mustard on it."
"No more cheap talk." He pointed at his wagging cock, "Suck."
She made a face and said, "Well, here goes nothing."
Glump. She went down on it deep. It was not her style to be hesitant when it came to sucking cocks. And God knows, just as surely as Tom, that she was good at it.
He closed his eyes and tensed his body with sexual pleasure. He thought to himself that you just can't beat sexual pleasure. What would the point of even being fucking alive be without sexual pleasure?"
She stroked his balls as she sucked, and lightly caressed the insides of his thighs. It made him shiver with pleasure.
Then she had him roll onto his side and she reached around his buttocks but then found that didn't work so she just went in from the front, sticking two fingers into his ass. It felt sensational. One hand was stroking his balls, her mouth was working like Hoover on his cock, her fingers in his ass, giving him that truly full sensation of sexuality.
"How does it taste?" he asked.
She didn't stop sucking, just shrugged her shoulders. No way would she admit to him that it tasted bad, even if it really did, which it did.
He put his hands on her head, and then went down to the back of her shoulders. She liked that.
When he came it was like a fire hydrant that got uncapped in the summer.
She could feel the spurts peppering the inside of her mouth.
Most of the marmalade and mustard was gone by now. It was replaced by a slippery thin layer of saliva and come. She loved the way it felt to her lips as she slid along his hot and throbbing tool, as she lovingly made her way along his long shaft. She'd always liked it, the same way some people like to play with fingerprint when they were young or the way other liked to play with wet clay, Sarah had always liked to play with come. It seemed so real, she decided as she slid her head up and down his pumping cock, licking the underside at the same time with her tongue. What could be more real that come? Without come, there wouldn't be any babies and than after a while, there would be any people or for that matter, there wouldn't be anything at all.
One of the things she loved about him was that he didn't roll over and go to sleep after he had come. He was one of the few men she'd ever met that she could let come first and then trust to make her come.
She lay on her back, he climbed down between her legs. Peeling apart the lips of her labia, he thrust his tongue deep inside and wormed it around. It felt to her as if it were some kind of little animal, at least more so than his cock did. Mainly it was because his cock never felt like a little animal. It felt like some big strong thing rummaged around down in there and doing whatever the hell it felt like, his tongue however seemed more sympathetic.
A cock was something that you could get to know and to admire and to respect, but it just wasn't the kind of thing you ever wanted to confide in.
Tongues were different.
A tongue was sort of strong, but then dainty. It was like an aristocrat that had taken lessons in the manly arts but that was still at heart, somewhat gently.
She loved it when their tongues pressed against each other when they kissed.
There was no other time, short of an orgasm when she felt so much as if she were far into some deep thing.
When you kiss a tongue, it kissed you back, out when you kissed a cock, it just sort of sat there like say a labrador retriever. Tongues were more like smart little dachshunds.
His tongue was like a very, very smart little dachshund.
She could feel her cunt start to get so juicy that it was mushy.
She could hear him slurping and lapping up the juices. He acted as if it were a flood and he didn't want anything to get wet.
She could see his head move back and forth with the rhythm of his licks.
She smelled the sweet and somewhat tart odor of her sexual juices.
Most of all, she could feel it. She could feel that wicked tongue of his down there just running around wild. She could feel pleasure radiate out from her beautiful pussy into her groin and then her stomach and then her tits Her tits?
"Grab boobs," she said in a heated whisper. "Knead them like you're going to make bread." She thought about it in a confused heat and then added, "Or like you're going to make pizza."
He stopped licking and she moaned. Wiping the back of his hand over his mouth and trying to pick out the pubic hairs, he asked, "Bread or pizza."
"Don't, don't, don't," she moaned.
Wow, he thought to himself this is one hot pussy. It made his own limp cock start to get hard. Going back down to her drenched pussy, he redoubled his efforts, and with marked effect.
Sarah was writing all over the bed, leaving stains from her cunt juices.
Then he reached up to her breasts and for several minutes he rolled them between his fingers. Then he took his nipples in between his thumb and forefinger and started to stroke them gently. The effects were electric. She started flopping all over the bed as if there were a thousand currents of electricity coming out of his fingers. By now his big cock was not only hard but throbbing.
He eased it in. It felt as if her pussy was just sucking it as deep as possible.
He loved the feeling of her moistness combined with the velvet smoothness of her cunt.
His strong hips started working like a pile driver, pulling his throbbing cock wildly down the tunnel of her pussy. Even if it were a thousand miles long that velvet smooth tunnel would be too short. Then he drove it in and it seemed to go in so fast and yet every instant of it felt like heaven.
In and out.
She reached up blindly to his head and pulled him to her. Their sweet tongues met and seemed to secrete juices of fire. Her erect nipples felt like little peas pushing into his breasts.
Her tits felt like a long wave rolling across the middle of the ocean.
It was so warm and smooth. He wished there were a way to get into it, to stick his hot body into her wet cunt and then he would slide around like a seal underwater.
Her hands clutched his buttocks. Her fingers dug in deep and then she let out a blood curdling scream and as she started coming, she raked his back with her fingers, that later there would be ten faint lines of dried blood which ran from his buttocks up his rib cage and then over to the center of back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her, although it was not possible. Their tongues pressed against each other with all their might the pretenses of a gentle dance gone as their naked sexuality strained to leave their bodies and enter into that of the other.
Her groin smacked against his with loud whaps and with every whap, sweat from their bodies splattered out over the sheets.
Her whole body was taut, like a voodoo man had put her into a trance.
And as she flopped underneath him as if impaled on his big cock, Tom, too began to come. It seemed to start from the souls of his feet and travel up his legs, gaining momentum so that by about the time it seemed to be in he could hardly keep pumping.
He didn't want to keep pumping.
He wanted to stop everything. He wanted to stop the world, he wanted to stop time and if space was moving, he wanted to stop that, too, but most of all he just wanted to freeze and let the huge wads of come explode against the walls of Sarah's cervix..
But he didn't stop. He kept pumping because he could feel that Sarah's orgasms rather than fading, were mounting in their intensity and his love for her was such that he would not stop pumping because, because it would diminish the intensity of her own coming. They say that you cannot build a marriage on sex, but the truth is that if you have two people who are committed to fulfilling the sexual needs of their partner to the best of their ability; not just so that the partner says it felt good and not just because they themselves are turning on by the sense of power one has during the moments of another orgasm, but simply because they love one another, and want to make the person feel good with every last ounce of energy, you have a marriage that's built on a pretty firm foundation.
So, he gritted his teeth and as the come pumped out of his hard cock, he drove it into Sarah's cunt, again and again and again.
Her hands ran aimlessly up and down his spine sometimes tickling him, sometimes clawing at him as the orgasms exploded in her groin and flooded her whole body with a pleasure the likes of which few people ever feel.
Then it was over.
How long was hard to say. Maybe it was just a few seconds ago that it was happening, maybe it was several minutes.
She felt the dead weight of Tom's body pressing her into the mattress and heard his deep breathing by her ear. His cock was slowly becoming less firm inside her.
He could feel her ribs move as she breathed
Lifting himself up onto his elbows, he said, "Whew! That was fun."
She nuzzled him. "Fun?" she said in a daze.
He laughed at her but without condescension and repeated her tone of voice, "Fun?"
She laughed.
"God, look at us. We're drenched with sweat."
Randy sat in the cockpit of the helicopter that they had liberated from the revolution. Their feet were up on the console and they were passing back and forth between them a bottle of obscure southern whisky that was, according to Ben the fine alcoholic concoction know to both civilized and uncivilized man.
The copter was on the ground in what had been a clearing, but in the jungle, clearing don't last long. Vegetation that was higher than a man had sprung up in a few short months since they had arranged with Ben's tribal brothers to make a clearing for them. When they'd landed, they brought more than ten steel pots.
They'd brought knives, and matches and mirrors and about anything else a primitive jungle tribe could want. In return, Randy was welcomed into the tribe as Ben's brother.
They had been given several wives each, beautiful lithe and solid women who knew nothing but the jungle. Their husbands were a source of confusion and pride to them, but they had accompanied them loyally on several treks down raging rapids and even one up into the mountains.
They didn't really understand what they were after, but the kept the camp and tended to their husbands needs.
Something called love.
They thought that perhaps it was some kind of spirit, similar in nature to the wise ones who had left the ancient city and would someday return to signal the dawn of a new era.
On the floor of the cab a fairly large puppy was chewing on something that it no doubt should not have been chewing on.
"Do you ever think of going back?" asked Randy.
"Hell, what for?"
"You know, civilization." he took a long chug on the whiskey.
"Hell, I never cared two bits . about civilization. Neither did you. Face it."
"That's not true," said Randy " I used to think civilization was about all that meant anything."
"That wuz before ya got the gold bug."
That was before I got the gold bug," He took a long swig, again.
"But now I got a bug for Sarah. That's after I got the gold bug."
"Randy, you are the most sorry excuse for a practical man I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. You ain't got a chance with he know."
"And look at what you got here. Your three wives, a climate that never gets cold, and about a million legends of lost Spanish gold. Sooner or later, we're bound to make a find."
"Yeah, then what."
"Well, neither you or me was ever ones to rest upon our achievements. We'll set out and see if we can find another treasure." Randy took another swig and seemed to weigh Ben's words. Then he said, "Wasn't she fine?"
"Yeah, she was fine." He swatted a big bug off the side of his neck. "You do have a right heavy concentration of little flying varmints down this close to the border, I'll say that."
"You know, I figured out once, that I could fly that chopper all the way to New York if I hopped up the coast."
"Probably git yourself in a record book for that."
"Then I could find out which little penthouse it is she lives in and I could land right on the roof and lower myself down to her front window."
Ben slugged whiskey, then said, "That would be a surprise."
Randy looked over at him quickly, "Yeah, wouldn't it?"
"Her fucking husband would probably be so surprised that he blasted you off the side of the building with a shot gun."
"Yeah," he said forlornly "Don't you miss her?"
"Not really. I just take the experience for what it was worth, you know. I just use it to prove I'm a lucky guy."
One of Randy's wives came running out of the jungle and gestured to the two of them that their meal was ready.
Randy took one more swig on the whiskey and said, "Yeah, we're just lucky guys I guess.
For Dr. Ramirez, it was almost as if after the attack and Carmela's death, things just seemed to fizzle out. Without Carmela's insane drive to bring a revolution to the people of their country, he discovered that his theorizing and long essay didn't amount to much.
One by one the other members of the revolution had just faded away. They went to other South American countries, Africa and Eastern Europe. Ramirez knew they did not respect him.
With his daughter, he made his way back to where the rest of his family was.
There they lived in small crowded apartment. His meeting with his favorite daughter were cut off because of how crowded it was.
He had no place to work except the library.
And then one day he received a telegram from a famous school in the Eastern United States. It asked him to call the head of their political science department.
"Dr. Ramirez," said the head of the political science department. "Are you at liberty to talk freely? I can assure you that this phone is clear."
Ramirez tried to picture a phone which had no color. Then he looked around to see if he could talk freely. No one else was in the phone booth. "Yes, I can talk. Did you read my article on the excavation of the lost civilization?"
"Come, come doctor. I know why you were there. As a matter of fact, it's why I'm calling."
Dr. Ramirez was terrified. "Yes ?"
"Well to make a long story short, Dr. we have an, opening in the faculty of our Political Science Department."
"I am an archaeologist."
"Yes, Doctor, I understand. Let me be frank with you. We're interested in someone who has practical experience in conducting a revolution. I have a close friend who happens to work for the Central Intelligence Agency and I asked him if he could recommend anyone. He recommended you."
"Ah "
"Now wait. We would like to pay for the cost of moving your entire family to this country. Visas will not be a problem. You will receive a salary in keeping with a man of such very, very specialized skills."
"Well, okay," said Dr. Ramirez, and within two months he was in the United States, lecturing on "Revolution in a Society Based on Fanning."
His family was thrilled with incredible diversity of things that they could buy with their new found wealth.
Their new house was easily big enough for the good Doctor to resume his relationship with his favorite date..
All in all, he had to admit, The U.S. was a good place to be.
"Sarah, do you ever wish you weren't married?"
"What do you mean by that, silly?"
"When you worked for Madame Wesley."
"I don't really miss that. It was interesting, I guess."
"But what about all the men? Don't you sort of miss having such a big selection?"
"You're all the selection I need, and let me tell you, it wasn't all just playing around and having a ball. I mean sometimes you'd get some old drunk guy that you'd, never even met before."
He laughed. "You didn't like that?"
"Oh yeah. Some horny old bastard mauling your body and thinking to himself that he's really sensuous. Sometimes, I wanted to scream."
"So, you've never been unfaithful?"
For a second she thought of Randy and Ben and Ben's dog and Carmela and the Indian Chie.
She wondered what Randy was doing. She missed him, but in her heart, she knew he was a loser. Not a loser in the sense of leading a full and adventurous life. A loser in terms of society. He wasn't ever going to have a nice car or a nice apartment or any security.
She had all those things with Tom. Still
Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to be with Randy. She liked the way he did everything by the seat of his pants and managed to get through it all anyway.
His cock made up for a lot of things, too.
Still, Tom was pretty darned good, too.
Her only complaint was that he was so secretive about his business. He didn't have an office. There weren't any record books around the house. Sometimes she had the feeling he wasn't totally honest with her. Then she would begin to think about Randy.
Looking for gold. Camping out in the jungle. Meeting all sorts of strange types of people. Sometimes when she went for dinner with Tom and his business associates, she felt like she was just an ornament.
Still, most women would give their right arm to lead the kind of life she led. She was in the lap of total luxury.
Putting her arm around Tom, she kissed him and said, "No, I've never been unfaithful to you."
"I know you haven't. Sometimes, I just get, I don't know kind of insecure." "There's no reason you should be. I have everything I want right here."