Chapter 7
She heard herself saying it and was amazed -no, not amazed. Horrified. Certainly she had sought sex. Certainly she had come on this swinging singles cruise expecting sex. And she had yielded to Bruce. So easily-so simply. As if sex were normal. Something everyday. Something that just... occurred. Like supper time.
It wasn't something to live for. Sex wasn't a complete goal. And she had made it that. And that violated every precept she knew. Not just Mother Dear's absurdities, but the real, fundamental principles of living. Everything I've ever known. In Sunday school. In church. Not that I'm a very churchy person.
Revulsion swept over her. She had given her body to a man, to just... some man. He happened to be a man she had seen twice before, the man who had grabbed her as she was pitching overboard. But he was simply-a man. Male. Something that could satisfy those urges that had swept her, had shaken her loose from all the fine and somewhat noble precepts she had learned. And, she had to admit, in deep rebellion against Mother Dear's earnest exhortations, exhortations that sounded false, even to Jennifer.
Mother Dear's exhortations may have been false, over-exaggerated, products of some fantasized ruin she had suffered, but the real basics remained. Jennifer had violated them. She had almost casually given her body to a man.
And now he lay beside her, staring hungrily at her body, ready to grasp and violate it again.
Jennifer blinked, focussing on Brace's face. It wasn't staring hungrily at her body. His eyes- they were rather nice eyes-were on her face. And he frowned slightly.
"I think you mean that. You make it sound as if I were noble. I'm not. Not by any means. I'm a very selfish guy who has taken advantage of a very sweet, very naive, somewhat bewildered girl. You are naive, you know, despite the fact that you are extremely competent in bed."
Jennifer stiffened. "Competent in bed." It sounded like a letter of recommendation for a prostitute. And then the idea intrigued her.
"But aren't all girls? I mean, what is there to it that a girl has to do except lie there and- take it?"
Brace blinked at her. "You don't know, do you? It's how she takes it that counts. The frigid, rigid ones-oh, they can lie there and take it, but they never give nor receive pleasure. That's one thing that turns out such poor unhappy creatures as Carol, always restlessly seeking sex but in the wrong way, the unsatisfactory way, the-well-incomplete way."
Jennifer knew he was talking about Carol's Lesbian attack on her, and she shuddered. That was real debasement-and then she was astounded that she could lie naked in bed with a man and discuss-well-anything with him. Yet she had to know.
"It was you sent that steward-with the message for Carol."
Bruce nodded. "I've tried to keep an eye on you ever since you boarded the boat." He grinned lazily. "And not just because of a cute yellow and black outfit and a silly pillbox of a hat. After all, I've seen what was under it. Twice." He frowned off into space. "Only it wasn't really that, either. It was a look you had -a sort of quiet desperation. That look doesn't go with a swingin' singles cruise. They are for gay, relaxed people. For, you might say, uninhibited people. At least, they're for people out for the sheer fun of it."
"And I wasn't?" Jennifer loosened one hand from around her legs and touched the hair on his chest. And drew back, horrified. I've got to stop! I've got to send him away! This is foul. This is depraved, sitting here naked, listening to a man tell me... what was it he was going to tell me? She wanted to hear.
"That you weren't, Jennifer. Oh, you were out for-something. And desperate. As if you had to prove something or quit."
And I've proved it! I'm in bed with a man. I have had my body violated. A man has stuck his prick up my pussy. And I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed for even remembering the words from those books. And the worst of it is, I'm not doing anything about it. But I do want to know the why of it.
"And you thought I was quitting when I nearly went overboard?" She frowned. "You didn't have to snatch off my clothes."
"Not guilty. You caught it on a cleat as you stepped back and started down. I just grabbed you. And yes, I did think you were quitting. The hard way. And believe me, it is the hard way. They tell me you start regretting it the second you start falling. But when you started fighting to get back, I knew I'd been wrong."
"You kept saying things..." Jennifer shuddered. "Propellers. Sharks..."
"It seemed to make you mad enough to fight. And fighting is good for would-be suicides." Bruce grinned, surveying her body in one sweeping glance that made her suddenly cold-and then very warm.
"Besides, I liked the feel of you fighting in my arms. You feel very nice in a guy's arms. Fighting-or--just in a guy's arms. Like this-"
Bruce reached for her, sliding one arm around her. She started to struggle, hating the very thought of him touching her. He mustn't touch her. He had no right to disturb her like this. To make her body suddenly warm, suddenly yearning. To make her want to reach for his body, feeling her hands glide over the bronzed, rippling muscles.
By what right were his hands so thrilling as they caressed her back? How dare he hold her so breathtakingly close? And force her arms up around his neck, pulling his face close, so that his mouth was on hers?
And, to her horror, she knew he wasn't doing it. She was. She was responding. She was reaching for his lips, seeking that kiss that set new fires to raging. This was truly madness.
But, as she knew, as her whole body knew and recognized and demanded, this was glorious madness, rich and satisfying.
The madness drove her hand wandering down to close around his penis, feeling it quiver into renewed life, renewed interest--just a quiver but very interesting. Very. Jennifer studied the long, limp shaft, the deflated head, blue-gray now against the tan of his leg.
And Brace's arm tightened around her waist. He raised the other, touching her breast, poking his finger at her nipple and then releasing it, watching it swell and harden.
Jennifer closed her eyes and sucked in a great deep breath, inflating her bosom, making those soft, round mounds stand out, pushing against his hand. And she slid her hand down until it touched his penis.
She felt the almost instant stiffening and stroked it. She couldn't have told why she did it. Something primitive within her directed her. Or perhaps she was unconsciously remembering some of the more lurid passages in those books. She closed her hand around the shaft and felt it swell, pulsing with intense blood rushing through it.
One of Bruce's hands slid under her still sensitive bottom and came up under her pussy, his fingers finding the lips from below and teasing them.
Jennifer lay back against the wall, her breath coming in long, shuddering gasps as her little pussy started the swelling that would open those very pink lips and produce a startling flow of juices. Her hand closed convulsively over his shaft and she moved it up and down in slow strokes that kept the shaft growing and hardening, until it swelled to those astonishing proportions she had known earlier.
With her legs cocked up, one arm still holding her knees, her little pussy was directly available to his seeking fingers. She could feel one slide in, teasing at her clitoris, and she shivered with the excitement of it.
Bruce lifted her feet and rolled on his side, so that his prick was bobbing against the lips of her vulva in place of his fingers, which now held the lips wide apart, ready for an entry.
"Slide onto it, Jennifer. Sit on me and slide down on it... You can control how deep..."
Jennifer swung one leg, so that she straddled his hips and slid her pelvis around, up onto him. His penis rubbed against her pussy, the shaft caressing her clitoris, driving her to intense new excitement. With her breath held, she moved slowly, sliding her pussy along the shaft, feeling and seeing it touch that head, now glossy with juices and purplish.
She raised her pelvis, feeling his penis stiffen and rise with it. Oh, God, that long?
Bracing herself on her arms, she looked down her body, past where his hands were playing with her breasts, to see his penis, long, hard and round, bobbing at her pussy.
Levering with her knees, she lowered herself, feeling his hand guiding the head into her cunt. She lowered, slowly, feeling that glossy, swollen head slide over the juices her own little pussy was providing-and with an almost audible "plop" shoot into her cunt.
Half squatting, half supported on her arms, and now held and supported by Brace's hands, she could stare down her body, see the mounds of her breasts, the soft flatness of her stomach -and her pussy, with the head of his shaft already buried inside.
Hungrily she watched as she lowered herself, sending that shaft up and up her tunnel. She could feel each minute motion of that head along her passage, feel it with growing excitement, with new tightness in her chest, new heat within her body and the increased flow of juices. And all the time seeing his shaft go up and up, swallowed by her little pussy.
She realized that Bruce, too, was watching her pussy, studying the movement of his shaft up her tunnel. He caught her look and smiled at her.
"You're beautiful, you know. Every small part of you fits to perfection. And you feel wonderful, sliding down on me."
Jennifer nodded. She didn't trust her voice, for she felt like screaming with the sheer exuberance of feeling his shaft within her, sliding upward, penetrating deeper into her, until she couldn't imagine how she could take so much of it. And it still kept going in-and in, farther up. Way up.
Now Bruce pulled his pelvis down, tugging his penis, so that it slid backward in her pussy, and then driving upward again.
Jennifer gulped, holding hard to his shoulders as she eased herself down on that tremendous rod of pleasure. And now it was almost buried in her pussy. She could see the pink lips of her vulva gulping at the flesh of his shaft, see the veins of his penis swell and pulse.
With a sigh of immense satisfaction, she let herself go, sinking down on his penis, feeling it drive far up in her....Oh, God, how wonderful! How wonderful to look-and to feel-as he drove his penis into her.
And she could control it. Control it? She wanted all of it, every microscopic bit of it driving far up inside her. She forced herself down until the lips of her vulva were pressed against the flesh of his pelvis, until his prick was driven as far up her as it physically could go.
And still she wanted more. Until Bruce started a slow rotation of his pelvis that pulled and pushed at his prick, sliding the head up and down her passage, starting a wild, tormenting desire way up her, a new fire in the lips of her vulva-and all the way in between.
Bruce's hands played over her breasts, starting fires up there than ran through her body to meet the fires below, until her whole being seemed a blaze of heat, a mass of triggering impulse that spurted juices, that tried to milk his shaft with the muscles of her tunnel, that chewed and nibbled at the base of his shaft with the pulsing lips of her vulva.
Bruce caressed her breasts and slid his hands over her slim, flat little stomach and on down to the inner sides of her thighs-and back again in a massage of love that kept her body churning with excitement.
At the same time he moved his pelvis faster and faster, driving his shaft in and out-only a fraction of an inch but enough to massage her tunnel from vulva lips to somewhere far up in her belly, it seemed.
He raised himself, pulling at her, and brought her breasts down where his lips could work on them, teasing her amber-pink nipples, tracing the faintly coppery rings around them, and pressing the hot flesh of her breasts.
She couldn't believe it, but it was happening all over again, the buildup of exciting pressure within her, the pulsing of his prick, the response of her tunnel, shooting juices.
It was a wild explosion, wild, but silent, all through her, as if her whole body had briefly disintegrated, had blown itself into component parts, deliciously enjoying the sensation, grinding down with her pelvis on this shaft of love that gave her such exquisitely painful pleasure.
Bruce moaned, clutching her, nibbling frantically at her breasts, then, with his mouth wide open, seeming to try to swallow one, teasing the nipple with his tongue. He drove upward with his pelvis, drove his shaft for one last time far up in her body-and held it there as his bulb exploded in a great mass of hot juices.
Then he sagged, his face momentarily blank, then wreathed in a smile that warmed Jennifer all over again.
And she sagged, as if the orgasm had melted her spine. She slid down on him, feeling his chest against her hypersensitive breasts, so that it was almost a pain-but delightful.
She buried her face beside his neck, murmuring his name. His hands came up her back, caressing her as he murmured endearments.
The slow sliding out of his prick from her pussy ignited a brief fire in her, and she shivered with it and slid off him, to lie beside him, cramped in the narrow berth, cramped but cozily warm and happy. Her nose nuzzled his ear and she whuffled at him.
He jerked his head away and turned so that they lay face to face. He rubbed his nose against hers, nuzzling her affectionately. He kissed her, not with great passion but with sweet and rather endearing affection.
"Sometimes I think this is the best part, the long, slow, gentle recovery." He chuckled. "Except, of course, there wouldn't be any long, slow gentle recovery if there hadn't been some very exciting tensions and releases. Delectable in themselves."
Jennifer nodded against his forehead. "As you say-delectable in themselves. And are there more ways to be delectable in themselves?"
Bruce promised her. "Dozens. We've only tried two."
"Dozens? There can't be." And she fell asleep speculating on the possible ways, some of them quite extraordinary.