Chapter 3

"Lynda," I said. "What's wrong?"

She turned away from me, moving as far to her right as the dildo-yet binding our cunts together-would permit her to move. She buried her face into the pillow, and continued to cry.

"What's wrong?" I asked again.

I leaned closer to her and brushed my hand softly through her hair. Her hair was damp with perspiration, and I could feel the fitful tremble of her body under my tender caress.

"Leave me alone!" she sobbed. She pulled her body violently away from my comforting hand. She wrenched her hips as she moved, and I felt a sudden, searing pulling through the depths of my cunt.

"Don't touch me!" she repeated.

I stared at her for a moment, allowing the pain to ebb from my body. I didn't know what to do.

"Don't cry...." I whispered softly.

I stood up on my knees, straddling Lynda. My thighs were open, and spread around hers. The dildo looked like some strange, flesh-colored wire that connected our two cunts. I reached down carefully between our bodies and grasped the U-shaped part that connected us. I grazed my hand accidentally across the fringe of Lynda's cunt as I moved my hand down, and I felt her cringe at the touch of my fingers. Her cunt trembled.

I wrapped my fingers around the cock and began to lift my body upward, off the bed. The cock began to slide from my cunt, moving slowly, like a great weight sunk into the depths of my body. I heard a wet, sucking noise as the lips of my pussy slid across the thickness of the organ. It felt as though my insides were emptying, and I had a sudden sensation that I had to urinate. The feeling passed, and I continued to pull the dildo out of my body.

I tried to limit the movement to my body alone: I sensed that any additional movement or pleasure might cause Lynda to completely come apart. I tried to hold the dildo stationary, moving only my body to free myself.

My knee slipped on the damp slickness of the sheets, and the dildo pulled forward, against Lynda's cunt. Her body tensed, and she made a soft, hurt sound with her mouth. A sob or a cry of surprise.

"I'm sorry," I said. I reached forward to stabilize myself by holding onto the headboard. I touched Lynda's cheek with my fingers. Her cheek was wet.

I slipped one leg forward and placed my foot flat on the bed. Then I repeated this move with my other leg, being careful not to make the dildo move again. I had both feet flat on the bed, and my thighs were bent. I was squatting above Lynda's cunt. I held the dildo with both hands, and straightened my thighs, standing up.

The dildo slid from my cunt like a long, thick log. Again I had the brief sensation that I was going to piss. I guess the dildo must have been pressed against my bladder.

Once free, I lay back down on the bed next to Lynda. The cock stood straight up from her cunt at a right angle. It looked both ludicrous and obscene. It was still wet from my cunt, and in the dim light of the bedroom, the cock seemed to glisten dully.

"What's wrong?" I repeated. I touched her hair and brushed it with my hand.

"I don't know...." Lynda finally said. Her voice seemed small and lost, like a child's. "I just don't know.

I put my arms around her shoulders and leaned forward against her. My tits brushed across her back, and without desiring it to happen, I felt the nipples tingle and grow hard with the contact of her body.

"Don't cry," I begged. I whispered the words into her ear, and I hugged tightly at her shoulders. I felt sorry for her, and felt a wave of compassion wash across me. I think I understood what was troubling her.

Her body looked strange. The top part was twisted away from me, and was buried against her pillow. Her legs were turned around, face up. I could just see the round curve of her breasts under her folded arms, and then just below, the sensual softness of her cunt mound covered lightly with the blondness of her pubic hair. Then, pushing up like an ugly intrusion, was the rigid thickness of the dildo. It was a strange sight.

I took a chance. I wrapped my fingers around the rubber cock and began to pull. Lynda shuddered at first, and then her body went limp. As I pulled the cock from her cunt, I vaguely felt like her mother; as though I were doing something for her that she did not have the strength to do. It reminded me of taking her temperature.

I pulled the cock free and flipped it to the side. It fell on the floor with a hollow thud.

"I feel so dirtyV Lynda sobbed to me once the dildo was out of her cunt. She turned towards me and wrapped her arms around me, burying her face into my breasts.

"Dirty?" I exclaimed. I held her tightly and patted her back.

"I feel like a whorer she said. "Worsen "There, there," I said. I was right. I understood what was happening. I let her cry for a few more minutes, allowing the guilt to trickle from her body through her tears.

Her body grew calm presently, and her sobbing stopped almost all together. "Why do you feel like a whore?" I asked. Lynda didn't answer.

"Because of what happened?" I asked. "Don't be silly. Enjoying sex doesn't make you a whore." I played a trump card. "And enjoying sex with a woman doesn't make you a Lesbian."

Lynda pulled away from my breasts and looked at me. Her face seemed startled that I had seen into the deepest, darkest secret of her heart. The naive innocence of her eyes questioned my magic.

"How did you know?" Lynda asked.

"Do you think that you're so different from anyone else?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Just because you enjoy sex," I said, "doesn't make you evil. Sex is to be enjoyed."

"Yes," she said, arguing with me. She wanted desperately to prove her own worthlessness, I could tell. "But sex with Tom, Normal sex."

"Any sex that you enjoy is normal."

She looked at me incredulously.

"Do you think I'm a Lesbian?" I asked. 'I've been married to Mark for fifteen years. I love him and I love our children."

I patted Lynda's cheek.

"But I love sex, too," I continued. "And sex and love are not the same thing, no more than eating and love are the same thing. Sex is a physical experience to be enjoyed only at that level. Love is an emotional, spiritual thing.

"You can enjoy sex," I added, "without being in love. I've done it myself. Hundreds of times."

Lynda looked at me. "Are you trying to tell me that you've had affairs with other men?"

"Not affairs,'" I answered. "Affairs involve an emotional commitment. But I have fucked with other men."

I was purposely blunt, and the word has its intended effect.

"You've made lave to other men?" Her voice almost broke with rising incredulity. "After you've been married to Mark?"

"Of course. And so has Mark. Haven't you?"

Lynda looked away. "Of course not."

I cocked my head and looked into her eyes. "You don't have to lie to me," I told her. 'I'm not going to think you promiscuous any more than I'm going to think that you're a Lesbian."

She hesitated just long enough for me to confirm my suspicion.

"With whom?" I asked. I was curious now. Lynda waited a moment. "Swear that you'll never tell anyone-"

"Don't be adolescent!"

"Swear!"

"All right, I swear."

She hesitated again. "With some boy. He came around selling magazine subscriptions."

"How was it?" I asked. She shrugged. "Good."

"How big was his cock?"

Lynda giggled. "About that big," she said. She held her hands out and showed me.

"Was he a good fuck?" I asked. "Did you come?"

"Did I! Wow! I came like a sonofabitch. I just kept on coming and coming and coming...." Lynda's voice trailed off and she was suddenly aware of what she had revealed to me.

"See what I mean!" I said. "Sex and love can be very separate things!"

Lynda was silent for a moment.

"Do you love Tom any less now?" I asked. "Do you?"

"No, but-"

"Well."

"I don't know. I've never thought of it that way before...."

"Let me ask you one more thing. If you had the chance to get fucked again by a young, handsome guy, and you knew that Tom would never find out about it, would you do it again?"

Lynda weighed my question. "I guess I would."

"Sure you would! And do you know why? Because sex is great! Sex is to be enjoyed! Love never helped a cunt when it was hot. Only a hot cock can do that."

"But it sounds so dirty."

"What if it is," I said. "Everyone does it"

She looked as though she didn't believe me.

"Don't be so naive," I said. "Take my word for it I know what I'm talking about. I've been around a lot longer than you. I know what I'm talking about."

The way she giggled made me know that she was over her guilt "Jl you say sb...." she giggled.

Lynda flopped back onto the bed, on her back. My arm was still under her neck. I pulled it out and laid it across her hip, resting my open hand against her cunt Her cunt was wet and my fingers fumbled through the flap of the lips until I found her clitoris. I began to masturbate her.

"What else did you do?" I asked.

"He ... uh ... ate me."

"You mean he sucked your cunt. Licked your pussy."

"Yes."

I worked my fingers around slowly, sliding one finger down into the wet slit of her cunt "Did you suck his cock?"

"Yes." Lynda giggled again, then raised her hips up from the bed and pressed it against my hand.

"It was great!" she said. "His cock was so hot. I could feel it against my face and in my mouth. So hot! He almost came in my mouth. I had to pull him out."

I pushed my finger up into her cunt, and she moaned pleasurably.

"You should have let him. There's nothing better than sucking hot come from a stiff cock."

"Uugh. That's disgusting."

"Lynda," I said. "You have a lot to learn."

She didn't answer. She just moaned. I looked across at her. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her lips were pressed together in a thin, tight line. Her neck was arched and her head was pressed back into the pillow. The tips of her tits were rigid and pink. With my other hand, I began to fondle her breast. She sighed when my hand touched her tit.

"You've got to tell me the name of that magazine company," I said. "Who knows. I might feel like subscribing to some magazines myself."

This time I laughed. A low, wicked, sensual laugh that rippled up deeply from my throat.

I pushed my finger into her cunt hole again, and she sucked in her breath.

"I'll write down the telephone number before you leave," she said. The words came out through her teeth, at the breathless end of a sigh.

"You've got to tell me one more thing," I said.

"What."

"Where did you get that thing? That cock?" Lynda laughed. "Promise not to tell?"

"Who am I going to tell."

"Tom bought it. In New York."

"Why?"

"Because I asked him to."

Lynda's cunt was beginning to make a squishy-wet sound, and I could feel her body tensing under my caress. I could tell she wanted to come again.

"Why did you ask him to bring it home?"

"That wasn't the first one he brought home," Lynda said. "The first one was a regular one. Just a single cock. He used it to fuck me."

She moaned.

"Christ! It nearly drove me out of my mind! First he'd fuck me with it and it would hurt good-like. He'd just wriggle it up my cunt. I'd never felt a cock like that. So big and hard. The first time he did it to me, I came all at once, just as he pushed it in."

I pushed my finger into her cunt, then leaned over and began to suck her nipples.

"Then, we'd vary it," Lynda continued. "He'd shove it up my cunt, and I'd suck his cock. Like we were sixty-nining. The best was when he'd shove it into me and then go down on me. Suck my cunt and fuck me with that rubber cock. I'd come like crazy. It was like being worked over by two men at the same time. One fucking me, and the other licking my pussy. I used to fantasize that when he was doing it to me: I used to close my eyes and imagine that it were two men...."

I put two fingers together and pushed them into her cunt. Her box was wet and open, and my fingers slid up effortlessly. I continued to lick at her tits, pinching them with my fingers and lashing at the swollen nipples with my tongue.

"I'd come like crazy when he did that," she moaned. "Then I got to thinking how maybe I'd like to do it back to Tom. You know fuck him."

Lynda moaned, and I knew she was building towards an orgasm.

"I tried it. I greased the cock and shoved it up his ass. I jerked him off as I pushed it up. He came so quick that his come splashed all over my tits. Shit, it was hot!"

Lynda began to grind her hips against my hand, and I continued to masturbate her.

"But it was no good for me. I didn't get anything out of it. I just pushed. Tom liked it though. Every time we did it, he'd come so hard and hot that I thought he was going to rupture his balls."

Beads of sweat stood out on Lynda's forehead. I began to move my lips down her body, towards her cunt

"Then one day," Lynda said, "he brought that thing home. Something for the both of us. He'd put it up my cunt then bend over the bed, and I'd shove the other end up his ass. We'd fuck like that until we both came. Godl It was fantastic."

I pictured the scene in my mind. It was exciting. I felt the scrape of her cunt hair against my lips. I was sure Lynda would do me when she was finished coming, for I wanted to come again, too.

But for now, it would be her pleasure, and I bent my lips to her pussy and began to lick.