Chapter 5
The dreadful realization of what had happened the night before at the old woman's home overwhelmed Nan before she came fully awake the next morning and nearly submerged her in a sea of guilt and shame. God, she thought, that such a thing could happen to me-and what is worse, that I should submit as I did.
Despite a healing bath and night's sleep, Nan was still in considerable pain, and she moaned as her tortured posterior came in contact with the bed when she rolled over to get up. Sliding out of bed to stand tottering on the floor, she was immediately confronted with the necessity of making a decision-something no self-respecting person is willing to do first thing in the morning. Was she to abandon the story at this point-let the true story of Mae Gail Jetty sink into oblivion and admit that she'd blown her first big chance to prove herself as a reporter-or was she going to tough it out and get to the bottom of what her instincts assured was a great, potentially shattering scoop?
As she slid her nightgown over her head, the full-length wall mirror echoed the vision of her tiny, perfectly formed body. A sigh escaped Nan's lips at the sight. So much, she thought, I've given up so much already. What would it be worth if I stopped now?
A cup of coffee helped restore her resolve. Slipping into fresh underclothes, nylons, and her prettiest green minidress completed the process, and by 8:30 she was ready to return to her assignment. A glance at her notes told Nan what was next. Mary Lipsher: well-heeled lady about town, friend of the mighty and former confidential associate of Mae Gail Jetty.
Lipsher-Lipsher... there were only three in the phone book-Mary's was the second. Her address was listed as 202 The Towers, one of New Toronto's ultra-modern, ultra-posh high-rise cooperative apartment houses.
Nan picked up the phone, dialed the first three numbers, then stopped and let the receiver fall back into the cradle. No sense losing the element of surprise, she thought. For once on this assignment, I may have it on my side, and every little bit helps. Especially in trying to talk to this crowd.
"Hold it, little lady, where do you think you're going?" The voice froze Nan in midstride as she was reaching for the double glass doors of The Towers. She looked about, couldn't see the man who had spoken, then spotted the grilled speaker above the door and the glass eye of the television camera next to it.
"Press," she said, drawing herself up to her full five feet and speaking as imperiously as one can to a damned electric contraption. "To see Miss Lipsher."
"She expecting you, press?" the voice sounded a bit less authoritative.
"Why don't you check?" Nan demanded.
"That won't be necessary," the voice answered. "May I see your credentials, please?"
In sheer triumph, Nan removed her press card from her purse and waved it in front of the TV camera. "Satisfied?" she snapped.
"Yes," the voice said. "I hope you will be." With that cryptic remark the door in front of her clicked and sighed a few inches inward, yielding a tantalizing waft of air-conditioned comfort.
Nan entered the carpeted lobby which contained two settees, an end table with flowers, and two elevator doors, both open. The front door closed Softly and the electronic lock gave a subdued but authoritative click.
Apartment 202, she discovered, was the whole flaming second floor-nearly half a city block. The elevator disgorged Nan in a rather dull, featureless foyer that was anticlimactic after played-down luxury of the lobby. She rang the bell, half hoping Miss Lipsher was out, but after only a few seconds it was obvious Miss Lipsher was very much in.
Large, big-boned, well built and an incredibly young forty, Mary Lipsher stood framed in the open door, smiling warmly. "Yes?" she asked in a deep, yet soft voice.
Ah, thought Nan. At last, somebody in this weird setup I can talk to without getting molested, lied to, or worse. "Miss Lipsher," she said, "I'm Nan Flanders. I'm a reporter for the Gazette. I'm here on assignment. Do you mind if I come in?"
"I know who you are, my dear. And I know what you're after. I've received a half-dozen phone calls about you in the past three days, most of them from Mae's useless relatives and all of them advising me to tell you nothing." A smile warmed her face-all but her eyes, which had a peculiar animal hardness and hunger about them that was new to Nan. "Come in," she said.
The living room was needlessly huge and decorated in a cross between rococco and early wedding cake. Everything was either white, or white trimmed in gold and there wasn't a straight line anywhere. Every chair, table, couch, and windowsill curled and rolled and wriggled hideously. The shag on the white carpet was three inches deep and the couches and chairs were covered with what Nan took to be the pelts of long-haired, white dogs.
"Sit down, my dear," Mary said, indicating a couch nearly eight feet long. "Coffee? Tea? A drink?"
"Coffee, please," Nan said. She sat squarely in the center of the huge couch and immediately felt lost, as if she'd fallen in the midst of a snow bank. The couch's cushions reached up to embrace her hips and buttocks lasciviously and she thought for a moment she would sink clean out of sight in the unbelievably soft thing.
Mary was back in a trice, floating noiselessly through the vast white sea of carpet with two dainty white cups exactly half full of steaming coffee. The cups, each precisely centered in a gold-trimmed, white saucer of rose-petal delicacy, were placed on the glass surface of a serpentine-legged coffee table located exactly in the center of the area before the immense couch.
"Now, my dear," Mary said, sitting close beside Nan, "how may I help you?"
Briefly, Nan outlined her assignment-how she'd gotten onto the story and what she suspected might be the true background of Mae Gail Jetty. As she talked, Mary's hand, resting on the cushion between them, stroked and petted the white fur covering as if it were the flanks of some beloved pet-or of a lover.
"And what have you gotten so far?" Mary asked softly, when Nan had completed her narrative.
"Nothing," she said, looking at the floor.
"Nothing? Or nothing useful to your story?"
"Both."
"I find that difficult to believe. You see, I know the people you've talked to. I know most of them intimately, if you'll forgive a tiny pun, and I'm relatively certain you've gotten a good deal more than you bargained for."
Nan's hands slid up her thighs and clasped over her stomach convulsively at the memory of her last three days, but she said nothing and tried earnestly to stare a hole through Mary Lipsher's white shag carpet.
"Exactly as I thought," Mary said. "Did they hurt you?"
"Yes, oh, yes," Nan sobbed, and suddenly her head was resting on Mary's shoulder and she was pouring out the whole monstrous story. Mary listened and she clucked and her arm encircled Nan's shoulder comfortingly as the young girl's tale of woe gushed tearily all over her shoulder.
To her complete amazement, Nan suddenly felt Mary's hand leave her shoulder and move to her breast. The long delicate fingers cupped that green-draped orb and gently squeezed it. Nan fell silent and sat transfixed With amazement.
Mary's head dipped and her cheek was against Nan's other breast, nuzzling it. Nan's amazement changed briefly to revulsion, then to something quite different. Mary's hair was near her face and its scent, darkly mysterious and sensuous, combined with the manipulations of her breasts set a tiny flame flickering in her loins.
"Poor baby," Mary cooed, rubbing and stroking Nan's breasts softly. "Poor, poor baby. They've made it so bad for you when it can be so very, very good. You believe that, don't you? That it can be very good?"
"Yes," Nan said softly. "I believe it." Her mouth had gone quite dry so that she swallowed several times convulsively.
In a trice, Mary had unbuttoned the top three buttons of Nan's dress and her hand was inside, cupping first one breast, then the other, as she softly kissed Nan's throat and the creamy flesh of the tops of her breasts above her bra. Exercising the knowledge that only a woman could possess, Mary's hand expertly entered one cup of Nan's bra and the fingertips probed for the pink nipple which, despite Nan's feelings that this was all wrong, rose to meet them.
Lord, Nan thought, what am I doing? What is she doing to me and why am I letting her do it? I've got to get her out of my bra and myself to hell out of here. But at that moment, it became too late.
Mary's other hand, the free one that had lain discreetly on the other side of her, whipped across her body like a striking cobra and was under Nan's skirt and probing between her thighs before Nan could react.
"Oh," she sigh-sobbed, as the fingers pressed against her pubic bone and, for one tantalizing instant, brushed the nylon-covered lips of her vagina.
Then both hands were gone from inside her clothes, and for some reason Nan felt a lonely disappointment at their going. They were soft and gentle though insistent, and her body had responded gladly.
She needn't have feared that Mary was breaking off the offensive, however. She had merely stopped to bring up fresh reserves. Now Nan's eyes would be used as a fifth column against her will to resist the delights that awaited her.
It seemed as if Mary's hands hardly stopped as they slid across the fasteners of her skirt and blouse, and in seconds the older woman was gloriously nude. Her great breasts, capped by brownishly pink nipples, bobbed arrogantly at Nan and her perfect body squirmed against the white fur of the couch as she twisted this way and that to get rid of the final pieces of clothing. For one tantalizing second, her thighs pointed at Nan and the dark curls of red-lipped opening of her love nest were offered. Then she turned away.
Nan pinched her eyes tightly shut. Lord God almighty, she bellowed at herself in the secret privacy of her mind, what are you doing? You were looking at that woman's vagina and actually enjoying the sight. Lusting after her. How hideous. Get out of here, Nan.
But her mental aloneness was invaded again by Mary's questing fingers. This time they were applying their female expertise to Nan's clothes which were deftly stripped away in an amazingly short time.
Cool, air-conditioned air wafted across her nude body and she felt the delightfully cool softness of the white fur beneath her buttocks and thighs. Keeping her eyes tightly closed, she told herself over and over that it was all a weird dream-that she'd awaken any second at home in her own bed. But Mary's lips and tongue assured her that this was indeed reality as they found the nipples of her ripe young breasts and sucked each in turn hungrily into her mouth.
The tiny fire in Nan's loins burst into a full-blown wildfire of passion at the sensation, and her hands went up to become lost in Mary's hair and to encourage her assaults on Nan's breasts. Mary's tongue fairly lashed at Nan's nipples at the encouragement, and one hand drifted softly down across her belly to fondle the nest of soft curls at its base.
Nan's hips commenced rotating of their own volition, pushing her pubic area against Mary's hand, and she couldn't make the motion cease no matter how hard she tried.
Suddenly Mary's lips were gone from her breasts and were tracing a line of fire down her belly toward that blazing inferno of passion between her legs. My lord, she thought, if she doesn't stop soon, she'll have to kiss my vagina. The thought of a woman doing that to her was revolting for a tiny instant, but as Mary's lips dropped lower and lower and her hand pressed harder and harder against her pubic bone, the thought became less and less revolting to Nan until she came to the realization that if Mary didn't kiss her soon she would surely die.
Somewhere far off, in another room, or another world or another universe, someone was moaning and cooing and mewling in desire and passion-begging for fulfillment. To her utter shock, Nan realized it was her. Her fingers were digging convulsively into Mary's hair, trying to force her head lower and lower. Mary's lips and tongue were in her pubic hair, replacing her fingers, and Nan's hips were gyrating. Mary's hand went to her knees and slowly parted them. Now, Nan thought. Oh, God, yes, now is the time. I'm just like her. Just like Mae Gail Jetty. So what the hell? Why shouldn't I do this, this ultimate thing. At least there's no hurting involved.
As if she could read Nan's mind, Mary chuckled deep in her throat and said, "Now I'll show you how good it can be. How it was meant to be, with no hurting. And only we women can understand. As only we can do for each other."
Hands and arms encouraged Nan to lie down, to disengage her fingers from Mary's hair. Then soft hands lifted one leg to place her foot on the couch back and the other leg to let her foot drop to the floor. Dreamily, she opened her eyes and stared blearily at the snowy ceiling that teemed a million miles above her. For a second, Mary's head was in view, then it vanished below the mound of Nan's breasts, and she could feel those lips puckering in anticipation as Mary's mouth moved closer and closer.
Just at the moment Nan feared she would die of anticipation, Mary's lips touched, then closed on her cunt and pressed the lips of it in a soft kiss.
"AAAAAAEEEEEEHHHHH," Nan yelped in sheer delight, and her hands flew to Mary's head in a convulsive effort to pull all of her inside Nan's aching, flaming cunt where a river of white-hot lava was coursing down the cavity toward Mary's lips. The action drove Mary into a frenzy and, without warning, her tongue lashed out and shot between the lips of Nan's dripping, puckering, blazing cunt.
Each nerve in Nan's body seemed, for the first time in her life, to be gloriously alive and casting about for sensation, and all of them seemed to end in the glowing pussy where Mary's tongue was working miracles of passionate delight.
Nan's womb ached and quaked as Mary's tongue slid from front to back, from left to right, below the surface of her cunt, then probed deep toward the door of her womb and withdrew. Nan's clitoris peeped inquiringly out of its tiny foreskin and was immediately rewarded and Mary's tongue found it. Then it was sucked up into Mary's mouth and nibbled at gently and allowed to retire to its rightful place at the top of Nan's cunt where it got a good tongue lashing.
"Oooohhh, Ggggooooddd," Nan moaned, staring pop-eyed at the ceiling and trying to scalp Mary with her fingernails. Mary's tongue answered by dipping once, twice, three times deep into Nan's cunt, then slowly pulling back with a sucking sound to return to her quivering clitoris. Mary's hands found the white globes of Nan's ass and squeezed them, forcing her hips off the couch and the lips of Nan's cunt into her mouth. Then one finger probed at her asshole and forced its way in.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEE," Nan screamed in pain and passion as her ass shot toward the sky and her cunt was completely impaled on Mary's tongue, which seemed to have grown nine feet long.
Now something new was happening. Never losing her mouth's grip on Nan's cunt, Mary was rising off the couch and shifting. Her knees transported her across the rug so that her body was half laid across Nan's, with her heavy, hard-tipped breasts pressing against her quivering belly. Mary's leg rose so that her knee rested on the edge of the couch and her hips were half on and half off. As her lips and tongue sucked, laved, and probed at Nan's cunt, her hips began a slow gyration, driving her own hungry cunt into the fur couch cover beside Nan's cheek.
She wants me to do it to her, too, Nan realized in horrified revulsion. She wants me to lick and suck her cunt like she's doing to me. In awful fascination, Nan watched Mary's rotating hips as they turned toward her and her smooth, white thigh slid across her cheek. As it completed its slow march to Nan's other ear, Mary's beautiful, red-lipped, dripping cunt came into view just inches from her mouth.
Mary's hips continued to rotate lasciviously as she adjusted herself atop Nan, and her tongue, teeth, and lips kept Nan's cunt ablaze as her own passion slit inched ever nearer Nan's lips. I can't do it, Nan thought desperately. I just can't. I love what's happening to me, and I know it would give her as great a feeling, but I just can't.
But once again, Nan's clitoris did her dirt. It rose on wings of passion and flew again into Mary's mouth to be nibbled, lipped, and tongued, and in a spasm of pure delight unfelt by human soul since the garden of Eden, Nan grasped the pale bulbs of Mary's ass and pulled her triumphant cunt to her mouth. The taste, instead of something revolting, was of musk and honey at the first kiss. Then, timidly at first, she let her tongue slide past the lips of Mary's cunt and tasted the sweet juice of passion. It was delicious and exciting, and the warm depths of Mary's soft, moist cunt dragged her tongue onward, and the sensations her mouth was receiving blended with the sensations in her cunt to set her entire body aboil.
The two flames that were Mary and Nan melted together, combined, danced, and weaved in an orgy of delight, then melted together again. They sucked, smacked, writhed, and twisted in mewling submission to one another for what seemed to Nan to be an eternity, then an explosive charge built up in Nan's stomach and began working toward her dripping, rolling, boiling pussy. For the first time in her short life, she was feeling the approach of a massive orgasm and for an instant it scared hell out of her. But only for an instant. Then she was aboard the crest of the wave of passion, riding it toward climax, just as she explosively reached her own moment of fruition and bit down hard on Mary's quaking, aching clitoris.
"Iiii'mmmm Coooommmmmiiinnnnggg," Nan screamed, her feet shooting up to aim at the white ceiling and her head snapping away from Mary's cunt.
"Aaaaarrrrrrrggggghhhhhh," Mary shrieked, her back arching and her heavy breasts boring into Nan's defenseless stomach.
After she'd stopped quaking, Mary rolled to the floor and lay on her back, legs akimbo and panting in absolute satisfaction that was matched by Nan's satisfied breathing. "See?" Mary said. "It can be good, can't it?"
"Oh, boy, can it ever," Nan whooped in triumph. She rolled over and fell off the couch onto Mary and buried her tongue deep in the older woman's cunt, then drew back and sat on the edge of the couch to take a sip of her cold coffee, which tasted bland after the delights she'd just experienced.
They dressed in contented silence, and Nan hardly noticed that her panties were missing. They had discreetly vanished beneath one of the cushions of the love couch. Soon they would join other pairs of panties in a most secret trophy case in a most secret room in a corner of the huge apartment.
"Oh, yes," Mary Lipsher said as she was letting Nan out the door. "You came for information about Mae."
"Good grief," Nan said slinkily. "I completely forgot."
Mary smiled knowingly. "Good," she said. "Incidentally, you were absolutely right in your suspicions about Mae, but all I can give you is my word on that. If it's proof you're after, it exists. Mae liked her looks and her love and she made movies, took photos, and kept journals."
"Great. All I have to do is get my hands on them. Are they here in New Toronto?"
"Oh, they're here, all right, in Mae's upstairs study in the old Jetty place."
"The Jetty place! So close all the time. Do you have a key?"
"No. There's only one, and I hate to think of the price you'll have to pay to get it."
"Who has it?"
"Art Teffler, my dear."
"Shit."