Chapter 10
Jodie returned to consciousness and awareness slowly. The first things to intrude on her delicious drowsiness and indifference were the discomfort of her twisted body and the sour, fishy taste of sperm in her mouth.
The half-formed images of what had been happening drifted, distorted shadows in her sleepy confused mind. She could remember quite clearly sucking someone's cock. The muscular virility of its pounding intrusion into her mouth was very vivid and real to her.
She opened one eye cautiously. She was lying with her head cradled in someone's lap. A limp prick, still wet with her saliva, rested on its hairy couch a few inches from her face. Her feelings were mixed as she inspected it.
It looked like her uncle's tool, but she couldn't be certain. Though she felt that she would recognize the instrument that had made her into a woman, broken the membrane of her childhood forever, she had to admit that to her limited experience one prick looked very much like another.
She pushed at it gently with an inquiring finger. The yielding, deflated piece of flesh was snakelike as it allowed itself to be lifted and looked at.
Someone coughed, cleared his throat, and spoke to her out of the red gloom.
"Hi, doll. Boy, that was a way-out trip, wasn't it?"
Jodie let her head sink back gratefully on the hairy legs. It was her Uncle Dick's voice. It had been his cock that she had been so furiously licking during that wild, lovely expression of adult giving. Now everything was all right. She hadn't sinned against any code that she had laid down for herself and her first foray into the field of adult behavior had gone off well.
But there was something else nagging at her from the back of her young, narrow fund of knowledge. A long, deep, snorting sigh came from among the layers of bodies that were pressing against her. A warm pleasant feeling ran over her thighs and drifted up, wafting languorously among the curly down of her soft pubic hair.
With a start, she realized that it was the heat of someone's breath. A cold, guilty chill ousted the warm glow in her stomach as she remembered the abandoned, grateful way she had let someone thrust his head between her legs and eat her responsive snatch.
In spite of herself, she felt her quim start to moisten at the memory. In her imagination, she could still feel the ferreting, insistent tongue as it lapped at the dew of her rosebud. The way it had parted the flowerlike petals of her love lips and probed deep into the sweet orifices of her spicy twat.
And most of all she could remember all too plainly the way she had responded, thrusting her grinding hips down ever closer to the nameless face of her tender torturer.
The steady, stentorian breathing still flooded over her thighs and plump mound of Venus. She reached down, half fearing to discover who her nameless ravisher could be. Her hand touched the roughness of a man's whiskery face.
A small sense of relief crept over her. At least she hadn't submitted to the lesbian attentions of her new friend, Sin, before all the other people. That secret was still safe.
Jodie's fingers traced the outline of the man's sleeping face, fumbling for a moment on the full, fleshy lips, over the powerfully large nose, investigating the wiry curl of his hair behind the ears. Her hand inched upward and the profusion of hair thinned out to a baby-smooth scalp of utter baldness. Incredulously, she circled the pink scalp with her fingers. Her confused mind raced. With repulsion, she realized that the first thought that had flashed into her mind was of her father. With even greater alarm, she realized that the thought of having her father's head between her legs, supplicant and giving out such exquisite ministrations, was one that she was not totally adverse to.
Her mind raced frantically as she tried to figure it out. Was this why she had run away from home? Why she had fled like a frightened horse from the brute force and sexuality of her father's behavior? Was it because, deep down in her subconscious, she really wanted him? Wanted him to possess her, violate her? But in taking her physically to give to her all the love that he had denied her through the long lonely years of her childhood? It was all part of some fantastic deep-seated Oedipus complex. And the crazy thing about it all, the thing that made it all fit into place, was the fact that it seemed that they both had the same hang-ups. They just demonstrated them in different manners. That was all.
The unspoken social taboos against incest had made them overreact. Her father's mind had worked against itself. Instead of admitting his longings in tenderness, he had tried to ease his guilt feelings by making his daughter a thing of evil and beating her.
She admitted ruefully that she had not helped the situation by attempting to run away from it. A sense of relief helped her make a decision. She was grown up now. A woman who could approach a problem with mature courage and understanding. Running away would never solve anything. She would go back home and try to resolve the problem where it was at. She nodded her head and smiled at herself.
Opening her eyes, the first person she saw was a discomfited Alec, trying vainly to cover his scalp with a toupee. The carefully detailed hairpiece seemed matted with some gooey substance and strangely disheveled. Jodie sat up and stretched her slender, youthful arms out to him. Alec looked at her confusedly, holding his wig on with one hand.
Gently, she eased his clutching fingers away from the hairpiece, removed it, and kissed him lovingly on his hairless, embarrassed scalp.
"Thank you, Alec darling, for what you did. It was beautiful and made me realize something very important about myself."
Uncomprehendingly, Alec put as good a face on his confusion as he could. "Think nothing of it, kid. Any time I can help, just call on Alec Smart."
Alec remembered the delicious feast and the sweet pungency of her responsive slit.
"A little thing like that is always a pleasure. No trouble at all. Feel free any time. Just call me..."
His voice faded away into an incoherent mumble as he tried to figure out what the hell the kid was getting so goddamned thankful about. After all, he had only eaten her snatch. That could happen any time and was no big thing. So what the hell gave with all this dewy-eyed thank-you routine?
Jodie smiled a secret smile and stood up. The pure lines of her youthful body seemed to emerge from the tumbled lust-locked bodies around her like hope rising from the ruins of a shattered belief. Her hips swayed smoothly from side to side as she made her way across the room to the table in its center.
Jerry looked up at her approach. His eyes were on a level with the perfection of her still-bouncing breasts. She stood in front of him, consciously proud of her beauty, knowing that he was looking at her, not flinching under his scrutiny.
The trace of her smile still lingered at the corner of her mouth. The self-knowledge she had just acquired gave her a new poise that relegated her previous girlish uncertainty into the limbo of the past.
Jerry found her self-assurance disconcerting. His fingers still fidgeted with the Polaroid prints before him.
"What have you got there, Jerry?" Jodie's voice was cool and self-possessed as she bent over to look.
Jerry recovered his composure as he remembered the prints and the irrefutable evidence of his influence over this assured young woman. He remembered the sound as his sperm splattered softly over her bent back, trickling thickly along the peach bloom of her flesh.
His voice had regained a little of its customary authority as he spoke to her. "These? Oh, just a record of what you really are. An indication of the beast that hides behind that standoffish air of yours."
He turned the prints around and laid them face up before her like a card player with a full hand. Jodie's reaction was not what he had expected. Far from horror or remorse, she was examining the prints with an analytical interest.
The one that showed her contorted, pressing her crotch close to the bald-headed, eager Alec seemed to hold her attention most. The camera had caught the intensity of her need in every graphic detail. The whole posture of her tense, arched body led the eye downward toward the focal point of her insistent, clamoring cunt. Holding onto the incriminating print, Jodie thumbed through the remaining exposures until she found another of herself.
This was the one that Jerry had taken in close-up showed her vagina in brilliant color as Alec's tongue made the rounds of its pink and red convolutions. The print glowed with highlights as her juicy secretions mingled with her molester's saliva and gleamed crystal-clear against the well-defined details of her spread slit.
Jerry looked at her in anticipation. "Well, what do you say to that, then?"
Again Jodie's answer was the reverse of what he expected. "Oh, it's perfect," she crowed. "I love it. You've captured just what I felt."
Her finger traced the details of the photograph. "Look at the way the tongue merges with the pink here. It's perfect. It symbolizes the demands of man being accepted and assimilated by woman..."
She put the photo with the other in her hand and held them tight.
"And thank you, Jerry, darling, for taking them, and for letting me have them."
Jerry was nonplussed and could only shake his head. Taking it for agreement, Jodie smiled her thanks at him and went back to the group of people on the floor.
Slowly they were beginning to recover from the effects of their mass orgy. Cynthia was sitting up, her full breasts stretched and taut as she raised her arms up to her head. Her fingers were pulling at the cum-matted tangle of her long black hair.
She looked accusingly across at Jerry.
"Have you been up to your old tricks again, lover? Spraying me with love juice when I wasn't watching?"
She looked up at the puzzled Jodie. "The nut gets his rocks off like that. Beats his meat all over me when I'm asleep. Gives him a feeling of power or something."
She raised her eyebrows questioningly at the silent Jerry.
"It just had to be you. I know when Dick shot his wad, I was expecting it and swallowed the lot like a good girl should. Dreamy, too."
She sighed reminiscently. "Don't you ever come the untouchable, sexless, holier-than-thou attitude with me again, feller. I know how you react to a pair of hot lips around your cock, remember?"
She looked at the two naked young men speculatively. "Maybe now I've got the two of you on a string, I'll get a little satisfaction. You can take turns when I feel horny."
Dick let his eyes roam over Sin's well-stacked figure. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea at that. He could always get rid of his nagging animal desires, lost among the fleshy delights of her insatiable body.
But there was one thing that he had to get straight first. One little point of fact that truth compelled him to bring out before he admitted the Tightness of her statement.
"Okay, Sin, I guess you've got it all figured out," he told her. "But before we go any further and you persist in complimenting me on my dong, it wasn't mine your were sucking. Jodie was looking after that." He winked at his niece. "And very well she does it, too. She's learned a lot since she left home."
Jodie nodded her head composedly. Indeed she had, and Dick didn't know the half of it. Dick was still talking to Sin.
"As I said, it wasn't my knob you were blowing and you have already accounted for Jerry. That leaves Mr. Smart here."
Sin parted her tangled hair with her hands and looked at Alec with a new respect. "Is that right? Was it your flute I was performing on?"
Alec nodded his head, uncertain as to the result of the girl's discovery. She gazed at him with something like awe in her look.
"Well, I never thought you had it in you," she lowered her glance down to his hairy groin. "That's quite a going piece of equipment you have, mister. Cocks I've sucked in plenty, but you have staying power. I thought you'd got me beaten for a while... Most of the guys shoot before I've really gotten to enjoy it. You offer a challenge."
There was both temptation and supplication in her voice. "Let's get together more often. I've got a few tricks left that I'd like to try out on you."
Alec blushed with pleasure. That a lusty young chick like that should give out compliments did good things to his ego. Maybe he wasn't so old, after all. The best thing about it was that she seemed to mean them and wasn't just shooting the shit in the hope of getting a part in some crummy film he was casting for. Which reminded him. Christ, if he could get her to put out on film like she did when she danced to that egghead music...
He beamed back at her, a little more certain of his ground. "Why surely. You've got my card. I've got the time, if you've got the inclination."
He was rapidly falling back into the old familiar pattern. Even his speech had regained its joking innuendoes. But he became serious for a moment. There was money involved in the next suggestion.
"Say, I've got an idea. Why don't you come around during working hours? I'll fix you up with a screen test. Maybe we can do business."
Cynthia looked radiant. Like a cat presented with an unexpected saucer of cream. "You mean for one of those skin flicks? All sucking and fucking?"
Alec thought that maybe she would shy away. Most girls did. "Well, we could always get a stand-in for the sex scenes," he told her tentatively.
"Like hell you will," Sin almost shouted. "All the cock I've ever dreamed about, and getting paid for taking it!"
She rushed over to Alec enthusiastically and threw her arms around his neck. "Don't ever mention stand-ins again. Let me get at the action."
She gave him a reassuring hug. "And don't you worry, Alec baby. There'll be plenty left for you. Now take me to the nearest casting couch whenever you're ready..."
Alec looked questioningly at the younger men. Jerry seemed to answer for both of them. He spread his hands apart, palms uppermost.
"Be my guest. Maybe she'll be fit to live with if someone can drain a little juice out of her. She's bloody near killing me."
He perked up considerably at the thought. An avaricious look came into his eyes. "She'll be earning bread at the same time, won't she? Let's start talking about bread. You'll want ten percent off the top as her agent, right? Then there's my cut as her manager, say another ten percent. Gross, of course. Exactly what will that come to, now?"
He searched among the junk on the table for a pencil and paper. Jodie tiptoed across the room to the pile of cushions where her clothes were lying in a disorderly heap. It looked as if things were working out all right for her friends. All she had to do now was go back home and see if she could work things out with her old man.
She struggled into her things and looked across at the group of people who had taught her so much. Her friends formed a tight little cameo of figures as they clustered, heads close together, over Jerry's pencil and paper.
Odd words were distinguishable out of the drone of their voices as they worked out their future. Unlimited cock for Sin in as many pictures as Alec's studio could turn out. Ten percent of the gross for Jerry, plus guest spots if he could still raise a hard on between acting as director for the sex scenes.
She could hear Dick's voice occasionally making points during the conversation. He was insisting that even a skin film should make a social comment if it was to have any validity. He seemed to have ideas about how it could be done and had Alec listening to him.
Jodie nodded happily. They'd be all right. She blew a silent kiss to them and left the room without their noticing.