Chapter 6
Jodie tensed herself for the feel of another woman's hands gliding over her skin. Despite her fears, it was a pleasant sensation. Cyn was tender and gentle as a man could never be. She arched her back to allow Cyn to traverse the full length of her body with her soapy searching hands.
The suds were plentiful and rolled off her body like snow before the melting sun. Unthinking, Cyn reached under Jodie to scoop some of the lather up that was dripping down Jodie's hanging boobs.
Jodie squirmed instinctively.
"Sorry, h'on. Does it bother you?"
Again, Jodie answered quite truthfully. "No, it's rather nice, really. It's just that you took me by surprise, that's all."
"That's good," Cynthia told her. "'Cause I'm going to do your front now. Turn around."
Jodie turned as she was told and knelt up in the water. Taking the scented soap in her hand, Cyn let it glide over Jodie's body like a caress. Taking the hands first, she rubbed between the pliant fingers before working her way up the arms. Cyn's fingers were wrapped around Jodie's slim forearm as if it were a hard cock. She ran her experienced palms along its soapy length, allowing her fingers to drift softly along the inner length as if she were working on the sensitive underside of a massive penis.
"Like it?" she asked softly. Her voice was like a crooned lullaby as she spoke. Jodie closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the ministrations of the other girl.
"It's dreamy. Don't stop. It's like one of those expensive massages they talk about on the TV."
Imperceptibly, Cyn's hands worked their way along the arms until they disappeared into the sensitive hollows of Jodie's armpits.
A little giggle escaped the girl as the fingers tickled her. "Don't squirm," Cyn admonished, as the bathwater splashed dangerously as Jodie tried to wriggle free of the stimulating fingers.
"If you carry on like this while I'm doing your armpits, what's going to happen when I really get into a sensitive spot?"
Fighting back her impulse to wriggle free, Jodie felt the hands start to slip from the recesses of her armpits, over her chest, to fumble tantalizingly against the prominences of her trembling tits.
Suddenly Cyn's hands stopped their circular massage and Jodie opened her eyes to find an expression of horror on her friend's face.
"What the hell happened to you?" Her fingers were pointing questioningly at the stripes across Jodie's firm breasts.
Looking down, Jodie's mind seemed to detach itself, allowing her to examine the marks that her father had branded across her bosom as if they were scarring flesh that was not her own. The stripes that had emblazoned in fiery red the signs of her father's sickness had now resolved themselves into ugly blue-brown bruises. The leather tongue of parental discipline had left its imprint upon Jodie's mind as well as her abused flesh.
Tears welled up in her eyes as the memory raced back into her confused mind.
"What happened to you?" Cyn demanded once more.
Jodie's voice was a broken whisper as she replied. "I... sort of..."
Her mind raced frantically in its search for an answer that would not expose the disgust and disgrace of her home life.
"Well... I ran into a... a... door, she finished lamely.
"You're a goddamned poor liar," Cyn explained angrily. "It looks more as if you ran into some sadist with a whip. Who was it?"
Jodie turned her head away, afraid that if she let the penetrating eyes of the worldly Cynthia see her face, they would bore into her, dragging the secret from her.
A sudden doubt seemed to indicate itself in the other girl's voice. "Say, it wasn't Dick, was it?"
Unthinkingly, Jodie rushed to her lover's defense. "Of course it wasn't. Dick wouldn't do a thing like this. That is why I came here. To escape."
"Who from?" Cynthia demanded.
The words gushed from Jodie in a torrent of relief. The ability to confide in another woman was like a healing salve easing the aches in her damaged, unhappy mind.
Cynthia did not utter a word until the end of Jodie's hacking, sob-wracked confession. Then, reaching out, she pressed Jodie's tear-stained face to her compassionately.
"That's one of the most horrible things that I have ever heard. Even had you let that Mexican boy into your pants, which you didn't, to have beaten you like that would have been fiendish. But after you fought him off, to have this treatment for your reward was just too much. This must have done ghastly things to your mind. Destroyed your entire set of values."
Jodie sobbed quietly into the comforting breast of her friend. Her tears were wetting the large, rubbery nipples until they hardened and dug into the peach-soft flesh of Jodie's cheeks.
They were comforting, positive and maternal, easing the pain that coursed through the grief-stricken girl. Cyn spoke softly as she cradled Jodie's head to her ample breast. The soft soothing words were meaningless to Jodie, but the sound of the other's sympathy broke through the walls of her anguish.
Jodie's sobs were quieted under the soft stroking of Cyn's hands. Gradually she became aware of words and meanings in the soft strokings of the voice that poured over her.
"Maybe Jerry can help... If something isn't done to blot the memory out, it will mar your whole life. Push all your thinking off balance. He's quite an accomplished hypnotist. Let him help you. He can remove the dark memory from your mind and let you laugh again. Leave everything to me. I'll talk to him about it. I'm sure he'll agree to help you. Then everything will be all right again, okay?"
Trustingly Jodie nodded her acceptance of the plan. Anything. Anything that would end the confusion and pain that clouded her judgment. She would leave everything in the hands of her practical, understanding new friend. Her face brightened in the confidence of her decision and she smiled through the glittering tears.
"You know best, Cyn. I'll do whatever you think is right."
Rapidly Cynthia adjusted to the change in her friend. A decision had been reached and there was no longer any need to labor it. The compassionate croon of her voice changed into her normal jocularity.
"Alright. That's it, then. No more talking about it." She surveyed the dried soap lather on Jodie's body.
"Say, I didn't mean to change the subject. I was going to wash you, wasn't I?" Her eyes twinkled. She ladled water onto Jodie's bruised body. "I'll be as gentle as I can. Let me know if I hurt you."
Tenderly the older girl ran her hands over the lathered curves as if her cleansing fingers could wash away the filth of a crazed father's corruption.
Jodie knelt submissively and let the soft hands wander where they willed without protest. The confession she had made seemed to form a bond that she felt between them. A bond that allowed Cyn to explore the secret places of her body as easily as she had explored the secret places of her mind.
Idly she let her thoughts wander, letting them drift among the experiences that had intruded upon her forming mind during the last few teeming days. Detached, she compared her attitudes. How they had changed so abruptly under the catalyst of experience. Two days ago, she would have been unable to accept the fact that she was allowing her naked body to be caressed by another woman. Now it seemed the most normal and natural thing in the world.
Then came her introduction to the throbbing passionate world of sexuality. The tearing flood of pain as she lost her virginity to the man that she loved. Her eager mouth's acceptance of his pumping, spouting cock. The way her nipples had hardened to the kiss of her new girl friend. And the satisfaction that was coursing through her at the stimulation of Cyn's teasing fingers.
Unthinkingly she arched her back to allow Cyn to rub the soap into a lather over her stomach and bushy pubic hair. The soap-slick hand slipped easily into the vee of her crotch, sending a shock of surprise tingling through her groin.
This was a totally new experience for her. Intoxication awaited her. Cynthia's other hand, which had been massaging her tits with a steady rotating movement, crept down over her stomach and, forcing the unresisting legs apart, began to manipulate her rampant clitoris.
The reaction was immediate. A wild, convulsive shudder ran through the aroused girl as she soared onto a plateau of impossible pleasure. She opened her legs wider until her knees were pressing against the restraining sides of the tub. She forced herself upward like a sacrificial victim seeking the knife of her executioner.
Despite her body's willingness, her mind still had lingering vestiges of doubt. What if Dick was to learn of this surrender? Would he class it as a perversion, or would he be able to understand the deep communication that Jodie read into the other girl's touch? But must he know? Must he be in the position to make a judgment? Remembering the locked door, Jodie realized that he might never know-that this wild, secret stimulation was something between her and Cyn, a part of her life that he need not learn of. Her mind made up, she flung herself wildly into the probing fingers, totally committed to her decision.
Moments later she climaxed in a thrashing whirl of limbs. The swirling water that splashed about her writhing body was like the engulfing tide of passion that washed over her reason.
All her life she had been led to believe that what she had just allowed to happen was a sin. An unnatural sex act between two women... lesbianism... but this was not. It was beautiful.
The whispered word lesbian... lesbian... repeated itself in her mind. No... no... she answered. This is different. This is me, Jodie. Adult, grown up, and living a free, responsible life according to the standards that people who use that word would not understand or even accept.
She held her hand out to Cyn. "Thank you for giving me so much. You've told me things. So many things. And shown me, too. Thank you for being my friend."
Cynthia turned away to the washbasin to hide the expression on her face. Jodie looked at her retreating back with a grateful smile on her young, soft face. Cynthia turned again to the young girl.
Her face and voice was composed as she spoke. "I'm going to split now. Must get back to Jerry before he comes hammering at the door, thinking I've fallen down the plug hole. I'll only tell him as much as he needs to know about us. I suggest that you don't take Dick too deeply into your confidence. Men have funny attitudes about things like -this."
She winked at Jodie and closed the door behind her. Alone in the room, Jodie stood up in the bath and reached for the towel.
The water coursed down her naked body like the tensions and doubts that drained from her mind. Everything was going to be all right. She had a man who loved her. A man that she had worshipped from her childhood and was now able to reward with the gift of her ripened mature body. She had found a woman who she could confide in and call friend. A woman, furthermore, who was much older and wiser than she. Someone who could take her hand and lead her through a garden of hidden secret delights that had not been known to her a few hours ago.
And in the background, as yet only vaguely known was Jerry. Jerry, who with his cynicism made light of her tragedy, making her see that the end of the world had not happened. That she was alive and young and the future did hold a promise. A promise of a worthwhile, rewarding life with people who had a place for her in their scheme of things.
She carefully dabbed the remaining drops of water from her curvaceous body and stepped out to face a bright future. Wrapping the damp towel around her, she tucked it in tight above her breasts like a sarong, then stooped down to pick up her soiled clothes. The towel parted at the side to reveal the flesh of her thigh.
Glancing down, she realized that it didn't matter a damn. She was moving in an emancipated circle where no one was troubled by the sight of a bare leg. It was what you were that counted, not how you looked. She remembered how, on her first meeting with Jerry in the kitchen, she had been dressed atrociously in that worn-out serape of her uncle's, and yet Jerry had never remarked on it, but had accepted her for what she was underneath. He had looked beyond the covering of borrowed clothes. Looked into the real her and liked what he had seen. And wanted to see some more of her. She thought of how Dick had been doubtful when she told him of the invitation for the two of them to visit with his friends. She would show Dick that she was able to take care of herself and mix freely with all sorts of people.
They would stop by today. Strike while the iron was hot. And what was that that Cyn had told her? Something about Jerry being able to soothe away the experience that she had suffered with her father. That would be good. He was going to use hypnosis, Cynthia had said.
Jodie remembered reading a book about it a little while before. There had been case histories in which a practitioner had cured all kinds of complex problems for people. Some had been much worse than the upset that she had suffered. She would show how broadminded she was and not fight against Jerry when he was trying to put her to sleep. She would surrender herself completely and let him have complete access to her mind. Let him in absolutely so that he could find the parts of her life that she wished to forget and eradicate them entirely.
She opened the door and walked composedly down the passageway to Dick's room. Nobody was about and she chided herself for worrying about a silly thing like a few inches of her thigh showing under the folds of the towel. Life was like that. If you worried and prepared for a-thing, it never happened. It was the unexpected that sneaked up behind you and dealt such a devastating blow.
She paused outside her uncle's door. The sound of organ music swelled upward in breathtaking spirals. She pushed open the door and entered.
Her uncle was running over the tops of his books with a cloth. The smell of furniture polish hung heavily about the room. The table top, that had been so littered before, was now clear of all the rubbish and showed a gleaming coat of freshly applied polish over its scarred surface.
Dick looked up and saw her standing there. He crossed the room and turned the volume down on the record player.
"Hi, welcome. One sparkling clean woman returns to the freshly cleaned scene of her ruin. How does it look?"
Jodie motioned for him to turn the volume down again. It was impossible to make herself heard above the throbbing runs of the music.
Dick turned the knob to a lower position. "Sorry about the racket." He handed her the album jacket. "A Bach fugue. I love the mathematical precision of his music. Makes me want to be tidy and efficient. Even made me tidy up the room a bit."
He held his arms out to Jodie. "Well, he helped. The real reason was you. You've come into my life, and from now on I want your surroundings to reflect the beauty that I found in you."
He held her tight for a moment, then, stepping back a little, he loosed the knotted towel where it cut into the swell of her breasts. He pulled the covering away from her like an artist unveiling a statue that he had created.
His eyes surveyed her narrowly. "You haven't changed a bit in the time you've been soaking in the bathroom. You're still as lovely as I remembered you."
Jodie held her face against his shoulder, afraid that her expression would give her away. That the enormity of what she had done with Cynthia would be branded across her face as surely as the marks of her father's passions were branded across her body. It was almost a feeling of relief when Dick lifted her up in his arms and pressed his face into the softness of her breasts.
The roughness of his beard chaffed against the tender pinkness of her nipples and drove out all feelings of guilt that she felt over her conduct with Cynthia.
She struggled against him with pretended fury. "Put me down, you ape. You know what will happen if you carry on like this. Where are all the resolutions that your precious Bach has flooded you with? Tidiness and order. We'll end up in bed again and there'll be a bigger mess than ever."
She pulled at his beard with her teeth. "Ugh. You taste all animally. Go and have a bath. You're a dirty old man of twenty-five and you disgust me."
Dick carried her, kicking, over to the bed. Lifting her high in his arms, he dropped her onto the bouncing, protesting bed.
"Okay, you've talked me into it. I'll try and grab the bathroom before the hen club has another convention."
He grabbed a towel and made for the door. Pausing, he turned and looked around the room.
"Why don't you carry on with the good work? This is your home now, baby, so let's have some indication of the much-vaunted woman's touch. Change whatever you wish. Including the record. I've got a few more to your taste mixed up in there somewhere."
He closed the door behind him, and Jodie was alone for the first time since her precipitous flight from her parents' home.
She looked around the room with a proprietary attitude. As Dick said, it was her place now, and heaven knew that there was a lot could be done with it.
But first she had better get dressed and act the proper housewife. Standing stark naked as she was, in a man's apartment, was not her idea of what a young, well-brought-up woman should be doing in the middle of the afternoon.
She opened her hastily packed case and spilled the contents out onto the bed. They were all rather junior college and miniskirtish. Oh well, she thought. I may as well make the best of it. It isn't what you wear that matters, but what you really are inside.
Jerry had pointed that out to her earlier.
She selected a suede leather miniskirt with a fashionable chain belt. Rummaging around, she found that she had an off-white knitted sweater that matched up with it perfectly.
She raised her arms and struggled into the tight-fitting sweater. The springy material clung to her figure like another skin. She opened the closet and checked herself out in the full-length mirror behind the door.
The combination of the tan leather skirt blended well with the oyster color of the sweater. By contrast, her long blonde hair seemed paler, helping to emphasize the delicate transparency of her flawless skin.
She pirouetted happily. Yes, she looked good. Someone that she felt sure that her uncle would wish to be seen with. A trifle sexy, perhaps. But she knew that when she had had the opportunity to converse with the exciting new people she would meet, they would be so taken up with her mind that they would ignore the fact that her delightful little nipples were hard and eagerly pushing themselves against the thin fabric of her sweater. That the sexy swish of her short leather skirt would only remind people that she was, after all, an attractive young girl. But one with a mind and something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation.
She pulled a fresh pair of pantyhose up over her creamy thighs. They swished invitingly as her thighs brushed together in walking. She paused for a moment and deliberated whether to take them off. She decided against it.
This was her own life and people would have to take her as she was. If they were going to get bent out of shape by the tightness of her sweater and the fact that she rustled femininely as she moved-if they were only going to see her as a sex object- well, that was their misfortune. She had more to offer than a body and they were going to miss out on a lot.
Having disposed of the problem of her dress, she determined to tackle the bigger one of what to do about her new home. Dick had done his best to tidy up, but it was a man's tidying up at best.
Deciding to tackle the most important, more used things first, she automatically went over to the bed. It had at least been made and the ravages of last night's usage had been covered over.
Suspiciously, Jodie peeled back the straightened bedclothes. Just as she thought. Dick had only pulled the covers over the crumpled, cum-stained sheets. The pillowcase that she had used to mop up the oozing sperm from her much-used pussy was back in service and covering the pillow.
She pulled it off and peeled back the bedclothes to the foot of the bed. Dick had reversed them from top to bottom. The upper part of the sheet, where she had wiped herself after the first painful penetration, was now skulking at the bottom of the bed as if ashamed of the wanton way which she had sat on Dick's throbbing tool and slowly impaled her virginity on its throbbing length.
She pulled the sheet off in quick movement. Wonderingly, she traced the scarlet streaks of blood with her finger, a mute reminder that there was no going back-no retracing her steps along the road she had taken. Cry and regret it if she wished, but the fact was inescapable; she was no longer a child, an unknowing girl, but an adult woman. Her cherry had gone and her virginity was put away with her dolls and other childhood things.
And she was glad. This, she told herself, was living. It was up to her to make sure that she used every minute of her life to its best advantage. To learn something new always, and never close her mind to the challenges around her.
She rolled the sheet up, with its bloodstained story on the inside. That was all in the past now. Gone irretrievably.
She looked around the room, searching for some place where Dick might keep a supply of clean sheets. Unless they were stored elsewhere in the house, it looked as if he hadn't got any.
She poked and pried around in all the likely and unlikely places. Underneath the bed, out of sight, she found a cache of dirty shirts, rolled balls of evil-smelling socks, soiled sweaty tee-shirts and shorts. Wrinkling her nose, she lifted them out and threw them into a pile on the dirty bedsheets.
She heard Dick whistling as he left the bathroom and made his way down the corridor. His whistle died away as he stood framed in the doorway.
"Packing up to leave already? You'll look like an Irish immigrant with that bundle on your shoulder."
He adapted a bogus Irish accent and started to sing. "With me bundle on me shoulder, Faith there's no one could be bolder."
Jodie stifled the song by wrapping the sheet around his head. "I'm not leaving home, you idiot. I'm going to the laundromat. It looks as if you don't keep a well-stocked establishment."
Dick had slipped the towel from around him and was vigorously drying his back. His balls swayed from side to side in time with his rubbing arms.
Jodie watched, fascinated. Still watching his bouncing balls, she remarked, "Well hung, yes. But well-stocked, no."
Dick shook his tool at her as he crossed over to the bed. He rummaged among the pile of clothes that Jodie put out for the wash.
"Where the hell are my other jeans?" he inquired irritably.
"They're going to be washed," Jodie told him.
"Washed? Washed? Hell, I've only got two pair and neither of them is due for a wash for months yet. I've just got them broken in and feeling comfortable."
"Well, you'll have to run around naked for a while until they're clean, won't you?"
She pushed him backward onto the bed. Her hot mouth closed over the limp flesh of his penis.
"What the devil are you doing now? I've just given that a wash. You can't take it to the laundromat with you," Dick bellowed, pulling at her head with his hands.
Jodie let his prick escape with a wet, moist sound. "Just saying goodbye for a little while. See you soon, darling."
She swung the knotted sheet of washing over her shoulder and turned for the door.
"By the way," she asked as she left, "where the hell is the nearest laundromat?"
Resignedly, Dick gave her directions before reaching for a book. His hand rooted among the pile beside the bed and selected one at random.
His face was glued to the pages whilst his hand slipped down to grasp the hardness of his erect dong. He squeezed at the solid flesh, sending a tingle of desire racing through his loins. The moistness of Jodie's mouth reminded him that there was no longer any need for him to beat his meat in solitude.
Jodie would be home shortly and she would do it for him. He abandoned himself to the fascinating book, content to give his prick an occasional jerk during the more explicit passages-just to keep it hard and ready to be plunged into the willing Jodie when she got back.