Chapter 9

I was staying, for the day, with Henry and Lena Price, friends of Mimi and Gus. Gus and Mimi had to drive back into the city to register Cindy for school in the fall. She goes to an exclusive private school in the Village, and registration took place well in advance of September. It gave the school an opportunity to screen the parents and students so that it could weed out any they felt were not suited for the school. Even though Cindy had gone there for the past two years, it didn't mean that she would automatically be enrolled. Each year the Wellses had to go through the same red tape they had when they first enrolled her. That, of course, meant an early trip back to New York City.

They asked me whether I wanted to go back there with them, but just having escaped from the city I had no real desire to go back so soon. Besides, if they were gone, it would leave me home alone-and there were about a hundred ways I could think of to spend that free time. After the party, I decided I wanted to get to know the other guys a lot better. There were some very big changes out here since last year, and I wanted to experience them all first hand.

I guess Mimi and Gus thought the same way I did, because they suddenly became concerned with my welfare. The didn't like the idea of leaving me home alone for the whole day. They were responsible for me, they said.

"You're only sixteen," Mimi explained.

I wondered what exactly she meant by that. She said it as though she thought sixteen wasn't old enough to be able to take care of myself, but I suspected that she had in mind just the opposite idea. Mimi seemed a lot more aware and sensitive to things going on around her than I had first given her credit for. She looked at me in an odd way, or maybe that was just my own feeling of guilt.

Regardless of what prompted their concern, both Mimi and Gus agreed that I should stay with someone. It was Gus who suggested the Prices.

"What about Lena and Henry?" he said.

Mimi gave him a stern look before she asked: "Do you think they would be suitable?"

"Why? Lena could use the help, and I'm sure that Tootsie would get along very well with Henry. Don't you think so?"

Mimi hedged. "But they have no children-"

"So what? It will just give Tootsie more time to do various little things around the house. I'm sure Lena wouldn't mind and I know Henry would be pleased."

Mimi finally agreed, and the following morning, just before they left, they drove me over to the Prices' house. They were awake and dressed, expecting us, I guess, and they were happy to see us. Their house was a little larger than the Wells place, and I was glad my stay with them was only going to be for the day.

Mimi and Gus waved good-bye, and Cindy and Percy pleaded with me to come with them. I was tempted to change my mind, but Henry Price put his arm around my shoulder and waved the Wellses on.

"Go ahead," he told them, holding me more closely to him than I would have expected from someone I had just met. "Leave her be! You have a long trip ahead of you and I hear it's as hot as hell in the city. Let Tootsie stay! Enjoy the trip!" His hand was heavy on my shoulder, his fingers pinching into my arm. He was on the heavy side, and I could smell the sourly distasteful smell of perspiration.

"Go ahead," I echoed to them. The words were weak and perhaps unconvincing, but I was too far committed to change my mind now. "I'll have a good time."

They took me at my word and left me standing there with Lena and Henry, almost total strangers. For some reason I felt a sinking heaviness in my stomach as the car disappeared down the road. I sighed in resignation, and Henry finally relinquished his hold on my arm

"Would you like some breakfast?" he asked, smiling at me. His wife was standing behind him. She smiled down at me, and I wondered for a moment how such an attractive woman ever got stuck with such a plain-looking man as her husband.

"No thank you," I answered politely. "I've already eaten breakfast."

"Some coffee maybe?" she asked.

"Nothing, thanks. Can I help you with something around the house?"

She thought for a moment, and I knew it was going to be difficult for her to treat me as an employee. As far as she was concerned, I was a houseguest and not someone to do the chores. But she surprised me.

"Well, I do have some breakfast dishes still in the sink." It was plainly a question on her part, but nevertheless the undertones were clear.

Actually, I was grateful for something to do. It was difficult enough standing around trying to make small talk with strangers. We all felt uncomfortable. I was glad to have an out, and I knew the more work I did the faster the time would go by. Perhaps, this afternoon, I could persuade them to let me go to the beach.

"Sure," I said. "Lead me to the dishes." I walked up the porch with Lena, leaving Henry behind us.

"You're sure, now, that you don't mind?" she asked almost apologetically.

"There's no difficulty. I'll be glad to do them."

"Good. That will give me a chance to catch up with my cleaning and bedmaking. You know how it is in these summer cottages ... it's not like home. You kind of let things slide, if you know what I mean?"

She led me to the kitchen, and my mouth almost fell open. The sink was piled high with dishes and pots and pans and silverware. There must have been at least a week's worth of dishes in the sink.

"Uh," Lena began guiltily, "I hate dishes. I just put them off until there's absolutely no dishes left, then I have to do them. I hope you don't mind."

I told her not at all, and in a way I was glad. I knew it would take me a long while to finish, and that would kill a big part of the morning. I asked her for the dishwashing liquid and a sponge and the Brillo. She got it all out from under the sink, thanked me again, and left me alone in the kitchen with all the filth.

I dove into the work. I've always enjoyed washing dishes. You do it so mechanically: without thinking what you're doing. You can put your mind on something else. like I was doing now.

I was thinking of how much of a slob Lena was. You could never tell from the outside, she looked so clean and immaculate. Everything was in place, everything about her person neat and orderly. She was tall and good-looking, perhaps thirty-four or-five, with long blonde hair, perhaps dyed, and very well groomed. Even her complexion was clear and clean, surprisingly so for a woman her age; no lines or anything. And her figure was tight, trim, well-kept. No sagging, even when she wasn't wearing a bra.

Maybe that was her secret, I thought, scraping at the encrusted food on a dish. She paid so much attention to herself that she had no time left for the housekeeping. It probably would explain why they never had any children. Why spoil that firm body with kids?

That was being cruel. I didn't really know that was the reason, just as I was guessing at why she let the house get in this state. It was all my imagination; speculation. But still.. .

Now Henry Price: he was something else. He looked like a slob. Fat, overweight, balding head; he had all the makings of a dirty old man. He was so un-like his wife; she was outwardly neat and impeccable while he walked around with his fly half open and his shirttails hanging out. He was even shorter than she, and being overweight made his appearance even worse. He looked like a dirty round ball.

"How's it going, Tootsie?"

I turned and looked. Speak of the devil, it was Henry Price.

"Pretty well," I answered politely. "Sure are a lot of dishes."

"Well, Lena has some unusual habits. Not doing the dishes is only one of them." He walked over to the sink and leaned on the sideboard, smiling up at me through his thick horned-rimmed glasses.

"Where is she?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable next to him.

"She said she was going to make the beds, but she's on the phone with her sister. She'll be on the phone for at least an hour or two. That's one of her other habits."

"That could be expensive," I commented for the sake of filling in my part of the conversation.

"It is, but I can afford it. Still ... like now, for instance, do you know she's talking to her sister in New York? Long distance! Do you have any idea how much that's going to cost me?"

I had no idea that it was a rhetorical question and I answered that I didn't know. But he wasn't waiting for my response, and he continued as though I hadn't said anything at all: "Plenty! That's how much it's going to cost me. Just plenty!"

"You should work for the telephone company," I suggested. "Maybe you could get a discount. What do you do, anyhow?"

"I'm an accountant." He pressed forward a little more, his thigh almost touching the back of my leg. He was leaning on his arm, and he looked almost lopsided.

I moved closer to the sink. "I guess you can afford it then. Accountants make a lot of money, don't they?"

"Enough." He inched closer. "Enough to be able to afford what they want to buy."

It was obvious now that he was trying to tell me something. "Just what is it you want to buy?"

He giggled, but the sound came out like a snort. "You tell me what it is." He ran his knee up and down the back of my leg.

I pulled away. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean."

He put his hand on my ass and squeezed it. "You know, I think."

I wriggled free of his grip. "What do you think you're doing!" My anger bubbled over and my voice cracked.

"Keep your voice down! Do you want my wife to hear you?"

"Yeah, maybe I do!" The fat son of a bitch really pissed me off.

"Look, little miss hot-cunt," he hissed, bringing his face close to mine and spitting the words into my face. "I know all about you and your games so don't try any bullshit with me."

"You do, huh?"

"That's right, I know everything. Gus told it all to me. All the details-"

"What?" I was shocked; it was like a punch in the stomach.

"That's right, hot pussy. All the good details. Do you really think it was an accident that he left you here? No accident, little girl. I asked him to let you come here."

I glared at him. My anger was still hot, but my shock and surprise had numbed me. "What I did with Gus is something you'll never get."

"I'm not asking for love, pussycat." His voice was still harsh and his breath unpleasant in my face. "I'm willing to pay for what you give away to others."

That floored me. "Pay?" I echoed.

"Yeah. Money. Dollars. You know what I'm talking about."

I turned around and listened for his wife. I could hear her talking toward the front of the house. I looked again at Henry. As repulsive as the idea was, I felt myself drawn to it regardless. The idea of selling my body for money excited me in a way I've never known. .

"How much are you willing to pay?" I asked. The words came out thinly, as though my mouth were surprised that my brain was agreeing. Why not? I thought.

"That's better." He was smiling now, and he put his hand back on my ass.

I suffered the indignity, almost enjoying the idea that he was using me. "What about the money?"

"You are a hot little bitch, aren't you!" He worked his fingers into the crack of my ass, curving under my body so that he was almost touching my cunt, squeezing the flesh in and out. His fingers felt hot through the thin material of my shorts.

"What if your wife comes in?" My mouth was dry and I had difficulty saying the words.

"She'll be in there for an hour yet."

He had his hand between my thighs now, turned upward so that his short fat fingers were cupping the mound of my cunt. Without wanting to, I found myself getting wet at the crudity of his technique. I pressed my cunt down against his palm which felt clammy.

"Do you want to do it right here on the kitchen floor?" I asked, feeling the lips of my cunt opening and closing as my juices started to flow.

"What do you mean, on the floor? I don't want to fuck you. Fucking I can get anywhere."

I was confused. "What do you want?"

He squeezed my cunt. "I want you to French me."

I was still confused. I just stared at him, with my legs parted and a wave of pleasure burning up from my cunt.

"French!" he repeated. "You know, sucking. Suck my cock!"

I sucked in my breath. It was the first time I'd ever heard the expression. It made it sound more perverse, more obscene. French his cock.

"Well?" he asked.

I pulled my hands out of the soapy water and dried them on a dishcloth. I was remarkably calm outwardly in spite of the way I felt inside. It was as though a fire had suddenly exploded in my cunt.

"Give me the money," I said. Receiving the money was the most important part; more important than the amount. The idea that I would let him use my mouth as a receptacle for his sperm and then charge him money for that privilege excited me so much that I almost couldn't stand the anticipation.

He handed me the money, and I didn't bother to look at it. I folded it and put it in the pocket of my shorts.

"Are you sure it's safe?" I looked down the hall.

"Of course!" he said. He squeezed my breast. "Do you think I'd take a chance on getting caught? Don't be foolish."

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. "I'm ready ... take your cock out."

"Let me touch you a little first," he said. "To get in the mood."

I pulled my blouse up and I let him slip his hand down the front of my shorts. I sucked in my stomach as he flattened his palm and slid it inside my panties.

"You got a hairy cunt," he said, cupping the mound.

I didn't answer. I just stood there, my thighs spread and my eyes closed tight while he played with my cunt.

"You're all wet. You got a very wet pussy, you know? Gus was right."

I humped myself up and down against his hand, sighing in surprise when he pushed a finger up inside me. He couldn't push it far because the tightness of the shorts was binding, but he pushed it far enough to awaken ripples of pleasure throughout the whole underside of my cunt.

"You got a nice tight box," he observed. "You been fucked much?"

I didn't answer, just arched up then pushed down. I groaned with excitement.

"Answer me. Tell me how many guys have fucked you. Tell me their names and how big their cocks were."

I told him and he listened intently, apparently getting excited by hearing me say the words. I know it was exciting me, and I began to describe the incidents in vivid details.

"Ohh, that's good." He pulled his finger out of my cunt and licked it in his mouth. "Let's go. I'm ready now."

I got down on my knees, trembling as I watched him unzip his fly. The whole front of his pants was swollen and pulled out.

"Close your eyes," he said, holding his hand in front of his open zipper. "Don't open them until I tell you."

I did as I was told, and after a moment he told me to open my eyes.

"Jesus!" I cried in surprise. "Is that all you?"

"I thought you'd like it."

In front of my face was the most enormous cock I've ever seen. It had to be at least nine inches long. It made Gus's and Marc's look small by comparison. I couldn't believe it was real. It was as thick as my wrist.

"Don't be afraid. Suck it."

I didn't need a second invitation. I closed my eyes and wrapped my mouth around the head of his cock. I held the shaft with both my hands, and still there were parts of it untouched my me. I felt the swollen tip of the crown scrape against my teeth as my tongue welcomed it into my mouth.

I couldn't believe it was real, even when it was in my mouth. I began to understand what Lena Price saw in her husband. I was almost tempted to give him back his money. I knew I would willingly pay him if he had suggested that we fuck. My cunt ached to see whether it could swallow Henry's length and width; what a challenge his cock was!

"That's it," he cooed. "Suck it easy!"

My mouth was open as wide as it would go, and I forced my lips down the length of shaft, even when the broadness of the head hit against the back of my throat. I would have strangled on its size if I could have; it seemed like a small price to pay to lick my tongue against the hardness of that fantastic prick.

I sucked on it as if it were holy. I held it firmly with both hands and swished ray tongue back and forth across its great width. I tightened my lips around its sides and rolled my head back and forth, trying to screw my mouth down around it. Saliva trickled from under the edges of my lips. I tried to suck it back up into my mouth just as I tried to suck more and more of his cock into my mouth.

But there was no more to swallow. My mouth was filled with his cock. From my widely spread lips, across the length of my tongue, back to the root of my throat-it was all taken up by Henry's cock. I could feel the spongy ridge of its head rubbing against my inner cheeks and bumping softly into the roof of my mouth.

"Pump your face up and down," he suggested. His legs were bent and he was pushing his middle up into my mouth. "Jerk me off with your mouth."

I began to pull back on the shaft of his cock. I felt the head dislodge from the back of my throat and slide down the curved wetness of my tongue. I tightened my lips to slow his withdrawal, feeling the big cockhead cushion itself against the back of my teeth. His cock felt incredibly hot in my mouth, and my lips and tongue burned under him. I pulled my tongue around to the head and inserted it into the slitted opening. There was a bubble of moisture there, and I flicked it back into my throat and swallowed it. Then I began to suck hard.

"Good, good," he moaned. He was enjoying it, and when he grasped my head in his hands I felt him trembling. "Tickle the underside with your tongue."

I slid my tongue around and flicked it rapidly across the underside of his cock. The flesh was bunched together there, like a series of thin lines all joining a single point on his cock.

"Ohhh! That's good. Move your tongue down a little ... move it more to the head."

I moved my tongue and repeated the flicking movement! His thighs trembled and soon he shook my head in pleasure.

"Uhhh! I'm going to come soon. Pump up and down now."

I plunged my lips down his cock, sucking in my breath as it slid back into my mouth. My cheeks puffed out and my lips were drawn wide apart. I felt him again near the back of my throat. I swallowed as much of him as I could, and when I could go down no farther I jerked my head back and reversed the direction of my face. When I felt the head of his cock against my teeth, I repeated the downward plunge, moving faster this time until I had re-swallowed him another time. By now my mouth had learned the route and it sucked up and down automatically: plunging and withdrawing, sucking and spitting, in and out until my face was a blur against his crotch and his cock was like a pump in my mouth.

"Good! Good!" he grunted, pumping his hips up into my face. His knees slammed into my tits as he arched himself in and out of my lips, my head bobbing against his cushion-like belly.

I began to jerk him off with my two hands, sliding them up and down the length of his cock, coordinating their movement with the plunge and withdrawal of my mouth. As I sank down with my mouth my hand stroked downward and banged into his belly; when I pulled back my fingers lightly slid up and pounded against my lips. The entire length of his cock was drenched with my saliva, and the organ felt slippery under my tightening fingers.

"Soon ... ohhhhh!" His back was bent like a bow and he was straining against me.

My body picked up the urgency of his excitement and my face slipped furiously up and down his cock while my two hands jerked up and down the rest of his length. My tempo became frantic and my coordination went completely awry; I kept banging my lips with my wet fists until I thought my mouth must be bloody.

"Now!" Henry groaned, shoving his cock down my throat. "I'm coming now!"

It wasn't necessary to tell me; I knew. I could taste it. My mouth was filled with his cream; it was like a thick paste spread all over my tongue and teeth. My hot cheeks puffed out with the spewing torrent of wetness, and his cock trembled in my hands and continued to pump out more come. I swallowed in self-defense, to keep from drowning. Thick lumps of the fluid poured from the end of his cock like a hose, gushing down my throat. I could almost feel it splashing in my stomach.

I finally stopped pumping with my hands; they ached too much. They dropped from his cock and I continued to suck until nothing else came out. I cleaned my mouth of come and licked the end of his cock clean. It was finally deflated, but even in its flaccid state it was still gigantic.

"Enough," Henry said. He pulled his cock from my lips, but my mouth followed after his cock. He had to push me away from taking it into my mouth again.

"That was fantastic," he said. "I never had any better. You really like scum, don't you?"

I didn't know what to say. For a girl who'd never sucked cock before two weeks ago, I'd certainly come a long way.

"You'd better get up," he said, trying to pull me erect. He slipped both his hands under my armpits and lifted up. My body hardly moved.

"Come on," he whispered. "Before my wife comes in."

I moved my legs, staring hypnotically at the long lump of pink flesh that dangled from his open zipper. My pants were very wet, my legs like rubber.

My God! I moved around slowly. Without realizing it, I had come in my pants! Come from just sucking on his cock!

There was a puddle in my panties, and with a shaking hand I took Henry Price's cock and kissed it reverently.

"Thank you," I mumbled as he pulled me up. "Thank you!"