Chapter 3
At about eight, Samantha arrived, complaining loudly about having to go to Wedge's party. Lucy hushed her by saying she didn't have to come-adding that she herself had to go, unable to afford offending a member of the tenure committee-and continued to brush her hair.
"Do you like him?"
"I think he's amusing. Why, don't you"?"
"Oh, he's masculine in the bad sense of the word, but he knows the Eighteenth Century." Samantha moped for a few minutes, then said, "Oh! Hey, guess what I read about today?"
"What?" Lucy asked, distractedly.
"I read about the perfect test for clitoral responses."
"Your clitoral responses are fine, dear."
"I don't know. I know my sexual response in general is fine-I mean, men turn me off, women turn me on, and I like to have frequent orgasms-but do I really know about my clitoris? Can I come by clitoral manipulation alone, by dwelling solely on the clitoris?"
"I have dwelt on your clitoris for hours sometimes with my tongue," Lucy said, "and I can assure you that it make you come."
"No," Samantha said, frowning, "you tend to eat my entire pussy."
"So . . . ?"
"So the latest Women's Lib manual says that you can never assume that you're entirely free from any need for a male until you've passed the test."
"What test?"
"I'll show you. Do you have a piece of heavy paper?"
Lucy gave Samantha a piece of 20-pound test typing paper and watched curiously as the girl folded it into quarters, and then with a pair of cuticle scissors nipped off a tiny piece of the folded corner, frowning in concentration. When she unfolded it there was a tiny hole in the center of the piece of paper, a hole maybe a quarter inch in circumference.
"What's that for?"
"You put it over your clitoris-your clit points through the hole-and in effect you've isolated your clitoris so that any manipulation, whether oral or manual, is directed solely at it."
"Diabolic. Don't you think it would hurt?"
"How?"
"Won't the sharp edges of the paper hurt your clit?"
"Oh. Well you have to be careful of that. The book says that if you do it as a habit you tend to get calluses."
"A callused clitoris-that would be a disaster!" Lucy laughed. "Will you do it to me?"
"I don't know if there's time. We have to be at Wedge's in twenty minutes."
"I can't wait to try it."
"Okay, but let's hurry. Take off your panties."
Samantha skimmed out of both her skirt and panties and lay back on the bed, her legs doubled back and holding her knees, grinning unabashedly. Lucy put down her hairbrush and eyed her friend's love nest with its reddish blond fuzz as she picked up the piece of paper with a hole in it. She knelt at the edge of the bed, inspecting more closely the exposed pink ridge of Samantha's sex, its delicate lips slightly parted and quivering, and her impulse as ever was simply to begin eating it. But she brought the piece of paper up, attempted to center it, lowered it to get better bearings on the glistening delicacy, and again attempted to align the hole with the peeping bud of Sam's clit.
"Ouch!" Samantha said. "What're you doing!"
"You're not excited," she said.
"I am too excited," she protested. "You know I begin to juice the minute your mouth comes within twelve inches of my pussy."
"Oh, you're getting juicy," Lucy said. "What I mean is that your clit isn't quite erect." And as if to demonstrate that she was moistening, she absently traced a finger across Sam's labia and glided its tip into her sweetness, churning the pink folds.
"No!" Samantha protested. "Not that way! This is a test for the clitoris alone!"
"Yours is such a scrumptious goodie, I almost forgot," Lucy said.
Lucy rapidly glided her hand under Samantha's blouse and onto her breast. Samantha's were firm little mounds and she never bothered with a brassiere. Lucy squeezed the familiar handful of breast and then gave its tender nipple four or five rapid flicks with her fingertip. Samantha blinked. Simultaneously, her nipple sprang to life and her clitoris thrust to erection. Samantha grunted through her nose, "Uhhh!"
Lucy centered the paper and molded it to Sam's crotch, holding it in place with both hands, the pink bud of her clit extending maybe three-eighths of an inch through the hole. It was so naked, so feeble, Lucy thought, wasn't it odd that this helpless little nerve-ending was the center, the source, of all feminine sexuality? Maybe it was true that the cunt proper was somewhat irrelevant to orgasm and to sex itself.
She craned her neck, tongue extended, to lick the smooth little knob. She swished her tongue-tip all around it, then moistened her full lips and captured the starkly quivering bud between them and rubbed her lips together in a motion like that of wiping or blotting excess lipstick on a Kleenex, then brought her tongue again into play, grinding its tip on the pinioned, thrusting tendril.
Samantha's entire pelvis reared up off the mattress and she gripped Lucy's head between her thighs, her legs flying over her lover's shoulders as she gyrated, yelping, "Oh! Oh! Oh! It's too much! It's too direct! Oh, stop! I can't bear it! No! It's too . . . too, oh!"
Lucy worked her lips and tongue without letting up, ignoring for the moment the ringing in her ears brought on by Sam's banging them with her thighs, watching the helpless girl bite her lip, whipping her head from side to side, her stomach pumping in and out like a belly dancer's. And Lucy thought, this is what I like about Sam, the very nakedness of her excitement. Her body is so thin that when I make love to it I feel all of her reactions . . . Sam threw her head back, lips curled back to bare her teeth, squealing, "Ah . . . Ah . . . Aiiiieeeee!" as her twitching clit went haywire.
The girl sagged to the bed. Lucy drew back, looking at her drooping clit, noticing the wetness of the paper just beneath, wet from the girl's gushing juices. On impulse, Lucy bent forward and thrust her tongue through the soaked paper and into Sam's honey-pot, tonguing the folds at the mouth of her vagina for a moment before she realized that her own pussy had begun to lubricate itself. She got off the bed and sat in the chair by her dresser.
"That was nice," Samantha said when she'd gotten her breath. "Now I know-I'll never need a man again."
When Lucy didn't speak, Samantha said, "Why don't you let me do it to you now, so you'll know you'll never need a man? Never have any use for one?"
"I don't think we have time," Lucy said.
"What's this secret desire you have to screw a man?" Samantha yelled. "Don't you think it's a little perverse?"
"I don't have any secret desire to screw a man," Lucy said.
"No, I guess you're admitting it blatantly," she said, sadly.
"I don't have any urgent desire to do anything with a man," Lucy said. "But in the back of my mind I entertain the notion that, someday, it might be a pleasant experience to utterly dominate a man. There's nothing perverse at all about that."
"So you'll find someone who'll let you play your game for awhile, but will end up using you sexually," Sam protested.
"No, it's a matter of your using your sex, if necessary, to master him."
"I suppose it could happen that way," Sam conceded, "but what if it happens the other way around?"
"What other way around."
"What if a man masters your cunt, and therefore you?"
"Impossible," Lucy said, firmly.
"Let me give you the clit test," Sam said.
"No."
"Why not? Are you mad at me."
"Of course not. But we'll never get to Wedge's party."
"Didn't you get turned on."
"Sure."
"Then let me do you."
Lucy looked at her watch. "Mmmm. All right. Use the vibrator, though."
Samantha reached into the bed stand drawer and drew out the Cordless Massager which was manufactured from a rather uninteresting white plastic, which was about the size and shape of the average prick and battery operated. Samantha flicked the switch at its base and it began its quiet hum, visibly shaking in her hand. She patted the bed beside her.
"No," Lucy said. "Do me here. Otherwise we'll get too involved."
Without further ado Lucy repositioned herself on the chair, scooting her butt out to the very edge as she lifted her skirt and pulled her panties aside, revealing between her widespread thighs the deep pink-red puff of her pussy, its lips sensuously full and slightly moistened, her auburn muff fluffed out wispily on either side of it. "Come, come," she said.
"I see you want a real quickie," Samantha giggled.
"Yes," she said, impatiently, parting the salivating gewgaw with crooked forefingers, exposing to closer inspection the tight folds of the cun-tmouth. Samantha swore that Lucy had fuller lips and more folds in her cunt than any she'd ever eaten, and she'd eaten maybe two dozen. Two dozen versus one cock, a statistic of which she was proud. Her experience with that one man, although it had happened several times, had been a mistake, the mistake of a seventeen-year-old who was given a line of bull for the first and last time in her life.
A kneeling Samantha bent forward at the waist to pay homage with her mouth, her eager tongue darting swish, swish from one end of Lucy's bubbling sex slit to the other.
"Don't lick it!" Lucy protested. "We'll get too involved, we'll be here all night."
She was right, Samantha knew, and she rocked back from her succulents with a resigned sigh and brought the vibrator into play. At first she worked Lucy with just the rounded tip of the implement, watching those proudly puffed labia jiggle in reaction to it, the clitoris stand achingly up. Then she worked the mouth of the orifice itself, her wrist twisting in tiny circles as Lucy's pussy seeped lubricant onto the surrogate organ. Then she inserted the dildo, watching intently, touching her own upper lip with her tongue, as Lucy's nether lips parted, stretching into a ring to accept the massager, four or five inches of the actively tingling vibrator disappearing into her snatch slowly and smoothly.
Lucy gasped and gasped again, sitting up a bit straighter as each new depth of her inmost parts was probed. "Oh!" she moaned. "That's nice! My clit, too! Play with my clit!"
Samantha began working the instrument in and out of Lucy's clasping twat while with her free hand she began working her clitoris, beating it back and forth between two fingers. Lucy, any semblance of calm shattered, began moaning constantly, rocking back and forth from one tensed buttock to the other on the edge of the chair as Sam plunged the massager into her pulsing cunt.
Lucy wore a scoop-neck dress, its bodice gathered into an elastic band, and she reached into it and scooped out her breasts, squeezing them, flicking her own nipples to life, offering them to Sam who when she saw them being jiggled at her, lifted her head to allow Lucy to feed them into her mouth while she continued to work her pussy with her hands. They were pliant breasts which begged for a squeeze, graced with handsome pink-brown areolas and long tender nipples.
By force of her own exuberance Lucy slipped from the edge of the chair, almost falling on top of Samantha before she caught herself and remained perched like that: legs spread wide and at a half-squat as she humped up and down on the vibrator, mashing her tits into Sam's eager face, taking quick little breaths through flaring nostrils, moaning mewling little moans, "Oh, ohh, ooohh!" and helpless with the knowledge that every fold in her cunt was vibrating in time with the plunging implement.
Samantha singled out one tit and clamped down on it, sucking the whole end of it into her mouth and biting slightly as she flicked the nipple briskly against the roof of her mouth with her tongue. At the same time she rammed the plunger with increasing force into her gushing pulsing twat, continuing to beat her clit with her other hand and, with each upward plunge, Lucy's body jerked reflexively from the knees up, then dropped as rapidly, her cunt hungrily impaling itself, all the while grunting, 'Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!"
Then she exploded, beginning with the one muscle in her pulsating pussy she went into a St. Vitus' dance, yelping, "Ah! Ah! Agghhh!" whipping her head as her cunt spasmed and her spine jerked, her long auburn hair flying, before she collapsed in her lover's arms.
Samantha collapsed beneath Lucy and held her in her arms until the spent woman caught hold of herself, when she reached between her legs to pull out the vibrator, which was still vibrating and barely protruded past her lips. It came out with a low sucking sound and she shut it off and lay it aside, then rolled off Samantha, saying, "Wow! That was a something quickie! But I don't know if I'll be able to use my legs for the rest of the week."
The muscles in her left thigh still twitched from the strain of hunching the vibrator. She flexed her legs and stood, holding the bureau for support, her knees weak and her head spinning slightly.
Samantha reached into her purse, which was on the floor by the bed, and got her comb. She began idly combing out her muff, and Lucy said, "Come on. We're ten minutes late already."