Chapter 11
A whore, I thought. Was that all I was to them? Was that indeed all I really was-a whore?
My brain throbbed with confusion; my legs and thighs ached sharply whenever I moved. My God, it felt as though someone had left a knife inside my cunt and every time I moved or turned, shifting my weight, the knife would twist into me, cutting me, and cause my sore body to cry out in anguish. The flesh between my thighs was literally raw, and I couldn't press my legs together without gritting my teeth with pain.
I shifted to my side on the bed, holding my breath until the explosions of pain ebbed. I lay facing the wall next to me. Thankfully, the wall was very close to my face, and it was painted a dull white, almost gray, so there was nothing in it for me to look at. No details, no designs, just a broad, empty blankness into which
I tried to let my mind crawl.
But my mind was uncooperative. The aches in my body didn't bother it half as much as the doubt and confusion of my thoughts. Was I really a whore? Did my liking sex make me a whore? Just because I enjoyed it?
Then what about the others, I wondered. What about Linda and her obvious references to enjoying sex, or even her knowledge of Marc's cock size? Or Nancy, going steady with Allen only because she could fuck for him? And at the party-everyone fucking together, swapping partners, engaging in all kinds of sexual acts. It wasn't just me.
What made them say that, then? Was it because I took two guys on at once? Was that so wrong? Or was it because I enjoyed it, or because I initiated it?
But wasn't that being honest-with myself and with them? Couldn't they see it that way-as an honest expression of a physical drive? Something that was part of life that should be enjoyed and expressed?
My brain ached and I closed it down around my own doubts. I purposely moved around on the bed so that the pain would take my mind off these questions. I savored the pain because it crowded everything else out of my brain and for a moment I could breathe easily.
But the pain faded, and the same nagging, unanswered questions were still there when the mist was gone. I couldn't escape it with physical tricks, and I knew I had to face them again and resolve the doubts for myself.
I'm oversexed, I concluded. So far I've fucked with Marc and Gus, then at the party I let Nancy make love to me while Jerry fucked me. And Henry, with the crudest approach of anyone, paid me to suck his cock and swallow his come. Pay was unnecessary, I knew; I would have done it for free. Then Bill and Jerry and the others. That was the most vivid of all. Even when the others were fucking me, and my cunt was aching from all those cocks, I was enjoying it. I wouldn't admit it to them, but I could feel it, in my cunt and flickering dimly at the back of my mind when they were fucking me-I was enjoying it, enjoying the attention they were giving me, enjoying that intense sexual pleasure. I even came again with the last one, whoever he was.
I liked sex too much; I was obsessed with it. I was weak to its temptation. Maybe I was a whore. Maybe I was a nymphomaniac.
I turned again on the bed and wrapped the pillow around my head, cutting out the sounds of the world and the harsh breath of my own accusations. I wanted to wrap myself up in a silent bandage and try to heal my own shattered ego.
But even the thickness of the pillow would not let me alone; through it, I heard the same piercing voice that has been haunting my brain ever since yesterday afternoon when it had happened. Now, however, the voice held a different idea, almost a comforting one.
Maybe it's just the boys, I thought. Maybe that's how they still view sexuality-with the same old-fashioned, unfair, chauvinistic double standards for men and women. It's all right for men to fuck around-it's healthy and normalbut if a woman does it, she's oversexed, a nymphomaniac and a whore.
As much as I wanted to believe it, I found myself rejecting the idea. It might be true, but I just didn't believe it. They never said anything about the other girls, and as far as the boys knew, yesterday afternoon with them was my only sexual involvement with them. They knew nothing about Gus, the delivery man, or Henry. And my behavior at the party was hardly different from that of the other girls; certainly Nancy was more open to that accusation than I was, based on what they knew about us.
No, I decided, all they knew about me was yesterday afternoon. And apparently that had been enough for them. Maybe they sensed something in me, a willingness to participate, an unmasked intense passion that I couldn't hide?
There was a low knock on my door, and I was glad now that I hadn't pushed my guilt to tears. I turned over slowly, wiped my eyes anyhow, and smoothed my clothing and pulled my blouse down. The knock sounded again.
"Yes?" I asked. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Mimi," the voice said. "May I come in?"
"Of course." I started to sit up, but the pain across my lap clutched at me; I gritted my teeth and lay back flat on the mattress.
Mimi peeked open the door just a crack and looked in at me. She was wearing a blue housecoat and she smiled at me as she looked in. I sensed that she felt uncomfortable.
"I don't want to disturb you...."
"I wasn't sleeping. Just resting."
"Don't you feel well?" She walked softly into the room and stood above my bed looking down at me. She pulled up a chair and sat down. "After you finished your breakfast chores, when you had nothing else to do around the house and Gus had taken the kids, instead of running out the beach with your friends, you came in here and locked yourself in your room. And for you, that's not normal."
I shrugged my shoulders, masking the brief flutter of pain that stabbed up through my stomach from just the slightest movement, and said: "I'm just tired, I guess."
Mimi leaned forward and put her palm on my forehead. "You don't feel warm. Is it your period?"
"No, no, it's not that," I answered quickly. I felt my face color with her words, and I almost felt embarrassed to be discussing something so intimate with her. It wasn't that we hadn't spoken this way before about things; we had. But I've always felt this ... uncomfortableness with her. It was almost like talking to my mother, or an older sister. Her age made it awkward for me. I could talk easily to someone my own age. But with Mimi, it was different.
"Well, if it's not your period, then it can only be one other thing. Boys."
I looked in surprise and shock at her face, but her warm, maternal smile remained fixed on her lips.
"How do I know?" she asked my unspoken question. "It's easy. I was a girl myself, you know. I did a lot of ... fooling around, too, when I was your age. Gus wasn't my first man. Not by any means."
"There were others?" I asked, feeling somewhat stupid.
"Many, many others, as I'm sure there will be for you before you get married."
I felt suddenly close to her, as though I could trust and confide in her. "But isn't it wrong?"
"Why, because you enjoy it? Sex is to be enjoyed. It's pleasurable and exciting. You only should be thinking of being careful. I don't want you getting pregnant during your stay out here."
I blushed and turned away. "I won't."
"What method are you using, if I may ask?"
My confidence was growing and I felt a need to confide in her. Her words, her reasons for sex closely paralleled mine, and I felt a flutter of hope in her understanding ...
"I have ... pills,"
Mimi sighed. "Well, I'm glad you're being sensible." Her openness warmed me and I pushed myself up on my elbows. I forgot about the pain for a moment, sensing myself redeemed in her confidence. I grimaced in surprise when the ache throbbed there between my legs.
Mimi caught the pain in my face, even though I allowed it to flicker for just a moment. "What is it, Tootsie?" she asked. She touched my shoulder. "You can tell me."
I sat back on the mattress, resting my head on my pillow. "Could I tell you something ... in confidence, I mean?"
"Of course, Tootsie."
I took a deep breath and told Mimi what had happened to me. Of course I didn't tell her anything about Henry or her husband. As far as Mimi knew, my sexual problems were only with my own age group. I told her what happened yesterday afternoon, keeping the details to a minimum, and how it made me feel about myself.
As I had hoped, she was immediately compassionate. "My God! Those animals!" The indignation flickered in her eyes. "Those selfish, inconsiderate animals."
It made me feel good to see her react that way. I felt close to her with a warmth that bordered on a profound respect or perhaps even love.
"Are you all right, though? Physically, I mean. Did they hurt you?" "Well, I am a little sore...." "Inside?" "And my legs."
"Those animals!" Her anger flashed in her face again, and I felt good now that I'd told her. I had needed desperately to have someone salvage my ego. I had never really wanted to think all those bad things about myself.
"Show me where they hurt you," Mimi said softly. She ran her hand up and down my thigh, shaking her head slowly back and forth.
I lifted myself up slightly and pointed. "Here. Between my thighs. It's all sore ... black and blue. And inside my ... ah...."
"Let me look at it. Let me see if I can do something to ease the pain."
Her suggestion stopped me for a moment, and a hesitation of embarrassment made me feel uneasy. "It's not that bad...."
"Tootsie, please! You don't have to be ashamed in front of me. I have a cunt too, you know." She continued: "Come on, come on. Slip these off. I've seen a lot of cunts in my day. And a lot of cocks, too."
I giggled self-consciously and arched my hips. Mimi pulled my shorts down my legs and flipped them onto the bed. I was glad when she left my panties on.
"Open them up now," she instructed. She rose from the chair and moved over onto the bed. She sat down facing me, and leaned forward and gently pushed my thighs open. Her fingers were soft and comforting against my flesh. I opened my legs for her.
"My God!" she cried. "Those animals. Your thighs are all raw!"
She pressed her fingers between my legs, touching gently against the soreness with a light caress. As she inspected the raw flesh, she rested her hand against the broad slope of my cunt mound, pressing in lightly as her fingers moved to my legs.
"Let me get something to rub on that. It will make it feel better."
Before I could answer, Mimi had gotten up and was walking out of the room. I sighed happily and closed my eyes, feeling warm and good inside. I stretched my legs and arched my cunt up. It was nice to know that someone cared.
Mimi re-entered the room with something in her hand. "I bet that chafed when you walked."
I admitted it had.
Mimi sat down again on the bed, her body warm against my naked legs. "You're going to have to take your panties off, Tootsie. They'll be in the way."
This time I didn't hesitate. I had the fullest confidence in her and I didn't feel the least embarrassed. I began to pull them down.
"Let me do that," she said, slipping her hands over mine and squeezing my fingers. She took the elastic waistband of the panties in her hand. "You just relax. You've been through enough. I'll take care of you now.
"You have a lot of hair on your cunt." Her voice was low, almost in a harsh whisper. "I'll bet the boys like it, don't they?"
I felt her hand brush against the fringe of my hair, and a tremble went through my crotch. The lips of my cunt quivered and I felt something wet moving inside of me.
"I can hardly blame them for wanting to touch you. I almost can't resist myself."
I sucked in my breath as she stroked the area between the V of my cunt and my thighs. Her fingers moved lightly and easily; I trembled each time she scraped against the hair on my cunt.
"I'd better do your thighs," Mimi said. "They're very sore ... they must hurt terribly." "Oh, yes, they do."
"Relax, darling, I've got something to rub on you."
I breathed slowly, stretching my arms out, my lips making a sucking sound when I felt Mimi's hand tremble as she felt the softness between my legs. There was something cool and soothing under her fingers, and she spread that coolness across the open flesh of my thighs.
I moaned at the comfort it brought and the exciting relaxation of her fingers pressing softly into my muscles. She rubbed her hands up and down my thighs, gently caressing the aches and pains, bringing to life a deep, burning feeling up inside my cunt.
"You do have a lovely cunt," Mimi whispered. I felt her hand move up high on my thighs, and she touched my cunt. The movement felt so natural, so expected, and my confidence and respect in her was so positive, that it seemed the perfect thing to do. I wanted her to touch me there. It felt so very good.
I sighed and stretched my legs the way a cat stretches its body in a languid elongation of pleasure. My body felt so sensual, so erotic under her touch that I pressed myself against her fingers and savored the pleasure.
"Your skin is so soft," Mimi whispered. "like a baby's skin. And the hair, like soft down." She cupped her hand once against my cunt, covering it with her fingers. I felt her middle finger slip casually between the open, wet lips of my cunt as she pressed her hand between my legs. Her palm rubbed against my clit and I moaned with pleasure.
With both hands now, she rubbed my cunt. She kneaded the mound with soft pressures and light touches. I felt her brush the hair gently and carefully part the lips so that she could trail a single fingernail up into the wetness until it teased around the nearness of the entrance. The waves of pleasure grew stronger and more intense, and I pushed down harder against her.
"My God, Tootsie," She rubbed my clit. "Your cunt is so wet. Are you very excited? Do you always get this wet when you're hot?"
I moaned, and Mimi moved her finger away from my clit. She pulled the sticky lips wide apart with her fingers, and I felt the air dance against my exposed clit. She let the cool air do its work, sending shivers and spasms of excitement down the lips of my cunt, working up inside of me and awakening a deep, flowing warmth.
"I want to kiss you," Mimi said.
"Yes, yes, please, kiss it. Kiss it!"
Mimi's lips pressed gently against my two open lips-my cunt lips-and she took the soft bud of my exposed clit between them and pressed down tenderly. The lips were wet with her saliva, and the wetness made my clit jump in intense pleasure at the contact. Her lips imprisoned the sensitive nub in a tightening ring of pressure, sucking it upward into the hot wetness of her mouth.
I felt Mimi moving on the bed. She was no longer sitting now. She was flat on her stomach between my legs, her face buried in my cunt. I felt the soft movement of her hair as it brushed against the tortured softness of my thighs as she moved her head and lips and tongue back and forth around my clit.
"Oh my God!" I said. The pleasure was so intense, so pure, that I almost couldn't stand it. She moved her tongue like a scalpel: knife-like incisions that ripped into my body and made me believe I was bleeding with sensation. She flicked and sucked and pressed with her lips, and I felt the top of my head coming off like a volcano exploding.
Mimi was an expert; she moved her tongue like an artist. A dab here, a stroke there, a suck now, wet pressure later, until she had created a total masterpiece of raw, intense sexual exhilaration. My cunt quivered under her masterful strokes, and I know I would have gladly done anything she asked so that I could prolong the pleasure she was bringing to me with her mouth.
Mimi's lips moved quickly, and she glued her open mouth around my cunt hole. She locked it in place with suction, and I felt my cunt draw up into her mouth. I moaned in something like pain when I felt her tongue push out of her mouth like a wet wedge and plow itself through the lips of my cunt, burying itself inside my body.
"Ohhhhhhh!" I screamed as her tongue pushed deeper into me. My voice got higher and higher until I was hoarse and there were no notes high enough to match the heightened degree of rapture her tongue had elevated me to. I just moaned incoherently and she continued to lick and push farther and farther up into me.
Her tongue, at last, was fully extended inside the narrow corridor of my pussy. I could feel the wet, spongy softness of her tongue: thick at the base, tapering narrowly until the tiny flitting tip stabbed against the blunted mouth of my womb. I tightened the elastic passageway down around it, closing the ring of muscles so that I could trap it inside of me. She sensed my pleasure, and pushed her tongue even deeper into me. I moaned in ecstasy. My fingers ached behind her head, and, if I could, I would have gladly pulled her up into my cunt, head and all.
"I need your cunt!" was what I screamed then into midair. I growled like an animal and pounded my wet, tortured cunt into her face. Hot, knife-like flashes tore through my bowels, and I could feel my orgasm filling like a balloon in my cunt. Larger, larger until it would burst.
"I really need your cunt!! " I screamed again. I was almost pulling Mimi's hair from her head with my clutching fingers. "I want your cunt!"
Mimi obliged. She swung her body around,, and, in a moment, her thighs were up near my face. The hair on her cunt was a rich patch of blonde-brown that stretched from deep between her legs, up and around the curve of her cunt, and spread out in a wide, heavy V across the mound between her thighs. The hair was curled and heavy and hung down like a beard. The lips of her cunt were wide and full, like the folds of a curtain, and parted the rich carpet of hair like two thick red lines. I could see the head of her clit as it pushed proudly between the leather-like lips like a tiny ruby in the middle of a wet, sloppy jungle of hair.
I pulled my face to her cunt while she continued to lick and push at my ass-hole. The smell of her cunt was full and thick; womanly and erotic in its heavy aroma. I buried my mouth against her cunt and licked my tongue against her swollen, bud-like clit.
I pushed my tongue up into her cunt and tasted the salty-bitter taste of her juice. Her cunt was thick and heavy, the hairy lips wet on my face. She was big inside and my tongue found itself swimming about in a puddle of moisture and slippery flesh. It was very different from Nancy's cunt, as different as Marc's cock was from Gus Wells's cock. Mimi's was the cunt of a woman.
I felt my orgasm building and building with the steady incessant pressure of Mimi's circling tongue. The circles narrowed until she was licking my clit directly, dancing around its sides with the wet orbit of her tongue moving constantly. I felt myself tensing down against the pleasure, feeling the way I feel when my body is about to break loose in a monumentally shattering orgasm. I bellowed and groaned and screamed and buried my tongue inside Mimi's cunt, realizing in the moment that my orgasm broke upon me that my tongue was in the very place that Gus's cock had been.
My legs locked around Mimi's head and I tried to smother her with my cunt. Yet her mouth was almost indifferent to my orgasm; it worked around and around with the same deliberate rhythm as she had worked her tongue against me before I came. Her indifference seemed to push my pleasure higher, and I screamed again when I came a second time.
But twice was only the beginning of a whole string of orgasms that exploded against Mimi's face and under her tongue. A thousand times, a million times I came! And each time was better, harder, higher and hotter than the previous one. The orgasms overlapped each other so that when one was dying, another was beginning, but beginning more intensely than the peak of the last trembling wave of pleasure. I felt my body jerking up until it felt as though my cunt would rip away from her mouth and crash resoundingly into the ceiling of my room. The balloon filling with pleasure broke a thousand times over, and my cunt was drenched in my own orgasm and the grinding wetness of Mimi's moving tongue.
I stopped fighting against her, and her tongue continued to move as it had before. The orgasms continued to pop and explode, but my body was too exhausted to chase after them to savor their pleasure. I lay slumped, feeling my limbs melting as Mimi's tongue ceaselessly worked to bring on orgasm after orgasm.
I was on the brink of going insane when I jerked my hips up and pushed Mimi's lips away from my cunt.
Finally she stopped and rested her face against my thighs. I began to breathe again, and even the tickle of her breath from her nose and open mouth against my trembling flesh made me shudder with fits of enjoyment. My cunt felt like a burned-out hollow: a gutted ruin in which the cataclysmic fires still smoldered, threatening every once in a while to break again into flames.
Mimi laughed. "How was it?"
I tried to answer her but I could find no words, so instead I began to cry. She patted my thighs.
"You were good, too," she said. "I came very well."
I felt dazed. "You came?" I asked. "From me?"
"Yes. Is that so surprising?"
"I didn't realize I was doing anything to you ... I was so wrapped in my own pleasure.. . "
"You did well. Your body worked instinctively, and that's always better than having it work consciously. It shows how deeply you care and feel."
I kissed Mimi's cunt. I felt that warm confidence and closeness to her that I had felt earlier, before it all began.
"You're so good I'm almost tempted to let Gus try you."
I felt so warm and close to her, I didn't think of my answer. It just came out. "He already has."
I said it because I wanted to be close to her; I wanted to share something with her. But the moment I said it, I knew it was a mistake. Mimi's body stiffened against me.
"What did you say?"
I didn't answer. A profound sense of loss broke like a dark cloud over me, and I found myself crying sadly.