Chapter 6
"Jesus, that was really something." Janet rolled out from under my spent, sprawling body. She hung her head in bewilderment and put her fingertips to her temples as though to straighten her mind out manually. After a few seconds she got up and rubbed her ass ruefully. "That was one of the most excruciating moments of my life." She gritted her teeth slightly "But it did something to me. I don't know what. Once the excruciation was gone . . . Well, I guess you know what happened." I would have expected her to have said this with at least a little shame, considering whom she was with, but I could detect only a kind of stunned wonder in her voice.
I went into the bathroom and started to run a bath. Janet followed me in, flipped up the toilet seat, and proceeded to clean herself off. "That's what I need. A good, relaxing bath."
"What makes you think it's for you?" I asked a little tauntingly.
"Nothing. In fact, I suspected it was for both of us."
I adjusted the water to make it a little hotter. Then I sat down on the edge of the tub. "Funny thing," I said. "I really do wonder whether I'm no longer disgusting to you." I shuddered a little as words came to my lips from some unknown and irresistible source. "Especially when I've just done something-or I'm doing something, really-that I think is pretty disgusting." I managed to keep a serene face as I said this. "Or are you really just putting on the act of the century to make sure your cheating isn't going to boomerang on you?"
Janet didn't know really what to make of this. I had the feeling she was just beginning to see how clever I was. More clever than the cleverest thief. I could see she was trying madly to figure out whether a true answer would be the best one, or whether she could tell a credible Be if she had to. Finally she decided-as nearly as I could see-to take the easy way out and tell the truth. "I won't tell you that I don't have any feelings of hate or revulsion connected with you. But right now I'm pretty confused about who you are, to me anyway, and if I don't know that, how can I know whether those feelings are connected with the real you? I mean, I still get little twinges of mental nausea when I look at you." She caught herself and stopped. "I guess that's not a very smart thing for me to say in my situation." She bit a fingernail nervously. I could see her cursing herself. "But . . . " she stammered, "I mean-you just don't seem to be the same person you used to be. I just.. . "
"Don't worry about saying the wrong thing." I had suddenly realized that it was more important to have her be honest with me than to have her say what she thought I wanted to hear. Not that I was sure she was really being completely honest, but at least she was coming closer than she ever had before. What galled me and made me bitter and ashamed was what I'd had to do to her, or maybe just what I'd done to her, to work this change. I kept asking myself, "Is this really what you have to do?" And certainly it wouldn't work like this every time. Janet could be one in a hundred, or one in a thousand.
"I get a little mental nausea when I look at myself in the mirror," I said sadly. "But at this point I'm not going to send that letter to your husband no matter what you say." She looked up searchingly at me as if to see whether that could possibly be true. "As long as you do what I say for the rest of the evening."
That seemed to bring things into focus again. "A deal's a deal," she said, "and I'll live up to my part." She got off the toilet and stood up in front of me with her hands on her hips. The bath was almost full, and she nodded at the rising water. "What do we do now?"
I was a little bewildered. It was going to be a hell of a lot harder to order her around now, but I knew I had to do it. "Get in." I turned off the water and unwrapped a couple of bars of soap. In seconds we were seated in the tub face to face with our legs under each other's arms.
"Mmmmmm," she sighed as the hot water steamed the tenseness out of her. I leaned forward to soap her shoulders and breasts as the water buoyed them up. It gave me a new kind of turn-on to feel her tits squishing soapily between my fingers, to see the lather coating them with tiny white bubbles that slid and slithered down her flesh. Once more sensations of desire emanated from my groin, and as they did I felt my commanding strength returning. I reached around behind her to soap her back, and then moved around to her arms and hands, cleansing and exploring and digesting the shape and feel of her body.
"Get up," I said when I had reached her waist. She stood in the shin-deep water and rotated slowly as I washed her lower half, my hands lingering in the softness of her wet, soapy crotch-hair and tickling back up toward her now-tender ass-hole in little excursions of conciliatory gentleness. "It's still pretty loose," I smiled up at her.
"Do you think it'll be easier . . . if I want to do that again?" I finished washing her and put the soap aside and she sat down.
"Now you can wash me," I informed her. "It'll probably be easier just because you know how to do it. Your ass-hole isn't going to loosen up all that much physically after being fucked just once, but it's mostly the mental looseness that counts. Did you like it enough to want to try it again some time?"
"Some of it," she said. She was washing my back and shoulders, and to emphasize the "some" she dug her finger nails briefly into my back and scratched. The little moving pinpricks of mild, sharp pain felt good.
"Yeah," I sort of grunted. There was a long silence while I closed my eyes and tried to banish recriminations from my mind and enjoy her almost motherly massaging of my chest, my sides, my buttocks, my cock and my balls, my thighs and calves and . . .
We turned on the shower after we were done and rinsed off and then dried each other. I rubbed a towel up into her cunt and she wrapped one around my cock and stroked easily.
"Okay. Why don't you go pick up some more champagne and come back to the bedroom for the last act."
"Can I ask what that's going to be?"
I slapped her casually on the ass. "Just a good old-fashioned fuck. You on the bottom, me on the top." She went to get the champagne. I went into the bedroom and pulled the sheets all the way down. Opening a closet at the foot of the bed, I found a full length mirror on the back of its door. Perfect. I'd be able to watch myself fuck her if I looked back around at it. I'd be able to see my cock sliding up into a pussy for the first time.
I was a little nervous. What if I did something wrong? I laughed at myself as Janet returned and set two champagne glasses on a nightstand and spread out on her back with her head framed seductively against a snowy white pillow. This time I didn't have to worry about doing anything wrong. However I wanted to do it, that would be right
"I see you've got things set up so. you can watch the show," she grinned. I crawled up beside her on the bed and put my head on her chest and began licking and sucking a nipple. "Mmmmmm, that feels good." She took my head in her hands and pressed it a little harder to her breast.
That gesture grabbed hold of me with a crushing bear-hug of genital impulse. I knew she'd had some conflict over doing it, and that made her doing it all the more exciting. I no longer felt her nipple in my mouth as something to be captured and made mine. I pressed its rubber-pebble hardness against the roof of my mouth and probed its finely wrinkled texture with my tongue tip, sucking at the feeling of it in my mouth, and I felt it as a thing to be coaxed, cajoled, seduced. If I could make her want to fuck me, that would be the biggest victory yet. Maybe I'd never know whether she really wanted to. But if I could make myself believe she did
She took my hand and put it down between her legs. She kept hers over it and guided my fingers in their quest for the right motions, the right pressures, the right places. The flat tips of two fingers curled down over her clit and hooked a little way into her hole, and a lightly circling motion captured her clit between the fingers and pushed its hard little nub around in circles.
She curled up against me. A hand traveled down across my chest and stomach to massage my crotch and fork my half-erect cock between two fingers that stretched down to probe my balls and the root of my shaft. Then she took my cock in her hands and started jerking gently, with long, teasing upward strokes that pulled the loose skin up and bunched it around the head. She ran her thumb up and down the underside of the head and then went back to jerking.
A brush-fire started someplace in my nether regions. The idea that I was, after all these years, in bed with a woman and about to fuck-or be fucked-saturated me with premonitions of an impending breakthrough. A new stage of my life was about to begin. Even then I knew that shame and degradation and self-repulsion were lurking outside the sphere of erotic firelight, but the conflagration was growing and burning everything away before it, enveloping me in its center and sending the demons of self-hate screaming off into the outer darkness with their clothing and their hair aflame.
Janet tugged hard at my cock and squirmed a little, and I could barely believe it, but it seemed she was trying to tell me she wanted to suck me again. I let her tit drop out of my mouth and rolled onto my back and her head traveled down. A leg swung over me and then she was straddling me with her mouth over my cock and her cunt hovering inches above my face.
"Come on," I breathed, "Sit on my face. Fuck it hard. Take what you want out of it!" I was inviting her to get her revenge and she accepted. Her cunt mashed down over my lips and nose and chin and her thighs gripped the sides of my head, pinning my ears down, and she was off and humping. I pressed my lips and tongue up into her slit. I darted my tongue-tip out to catch her clit and delve into her hole as she rocked back and forth. Then I felt the insides of her mouth sliding dizzily down the shaft of my cock.
I was lost in the damp tropical jungles of primitive womanhood. I fought through swamps and bayous, up mountainsides, slipping and sliding and reaching and grasping for the ephemeral ghost of her excitement. I had never dreamed of exploring this terrain in such intimate and overwhelming close-up. It writhed and pressed its flabby mounds of furred lips over my cheeks and vibrated the flesh-peak of its magic mountain over the soft, sensitive surfaces of my lips and tongue. Its juices slimed a thin coating of slipperiness over my face. The intoxicating ocean-earthiness of its odors captivated my nostrils. Once in a whlle I pulled back to stare at the pink mountain slope-tunnel mouth that led in a curving chute to the depths, or to lean around and watch her sucking me in the mirror.
After a few minutes she came up off me and laid her head on my thigh and pressed the shaft of my cock against her cheek. "I don't want to rush you, but I'm ready to fuck any time."
If she hadn't been so obviously ready-if her hips hadn't been churning of themselves, if her words had not come amid bated breaths and panting, I might have suspected that she simply wanted to get her ordeal over as soon as possible. I'd said this was to be the "last act." Suddenly it struck me that after all those weeks and months of planning and fantasizing, the brief moments of reality were slipping away, and soon I'd be cast into the solitary oblivion of a life with a new and empty identity. Empty except for the fact that I was a confirmed blackmailer . . .
I was shaking as Janet got up off me and moved around to lie on her back by my side. She pulled her knees up and apart and closed her eyes and massaged her breasts with her hands, pushing them around like living things underneath the white sheet of her pale flesh and pinching their nipples hard.
I strained to make everything seem real. I had got so used to things like this not being real that I could barely grasp hold of it when it happened. I was desperately afraid of missing it all even while it was taking place. My cock ached with longing for that exotic, bizarre sheath nestled between Janet's legs. It didn't know why, and neither did I, but once I pulled myself up and moved around to straddle her and she reached up and ran her fingers from the rim of my ass-hole to the root of my cock, up over my balls, and gripped the shaft to fit it into her, my shuddering body broke down and I fell heavily to her chest.
My rod lanced forward and sank into the antechambers of her womanhood with a searching desire of its own. Janet kept her hands on it. She dragged its head up out of the folds of her inner lips to run it over her clit and then shoved it down again. Up and down, and her legs kicked high and her feet pointed at the ceiling, and the hot, living suction of her insides went to work on me.
"Do you like to fuck me?" she whispered, circling the head of my cock around the entrance to her hole, pushing the lips aside and letting me feel the rough hairiness of the exterior and the smooth, yielding softness of her interior. "Do you like me to stir your cock around in my cunt like that? Does that feel good to you?"
For an answer my hips started jabbing, pulled by the silent cry of my genitals, and my cock-head pushed in past her bone-guarded cave-mouth into the one-way world of her clutching, grasping interior. It was all down there between my legs, surging out in ecstatic convulsions through my stomach and thighs, longing to nail her good and deep and make her scream with the pure pleasure of something suddenly gone right.
Her hole-mouth sucked and chewed at me and grabbed me and pulled me deeper. It was like sinking through quicksand to seventh heaven. She wrapped her arms around me and grabbed my buttocks and sank her fingernails into them. The deep sudden pain boosted the sensations of pleasure streaming from my groin to impossibly far-away heights. Her hands crammed me far into her living quicksand and the engine of my body heated up and hammered away, pounding down on her clit with its pubic bone, rocking her clit back and forth in the cradle of my cock's base, waving far up inside her with its magic wand, unrolling its hose to give her rabid heat a good dousing. I wormed and squirmed my way into her till we were glued and welded together, nothing more than the maniacal argument that blossomed toward conclusions between our legs.
I pushed myself up a little and looked back around to catch a glimpse of us in the mirror. There was my cock-my very own cock-plunging in and out of a glistening well of flushed doeskin; a pouch of pleasure whose elastic mouth stretched and gave, clinging in thin membranes to my cock as it had its way with her. And down below her ass-hole constricted with her every rhythmic convulsion, briefly eclipsing the loose gap of its cherry-insides with each powerful wrinkling-in of its sphincter.
Janet looked over my shoulder on the other side and our eyes met in the mirror. I could tell she liked to watch herself being fucked. She slapped my ass cheeks like a jockey going to the whip in the home stretch and flopped her head back down onto the pillow. I stared back at her for a few more seconds, memorizing the image of this once-in-a-lifetime event. So this was how it felt! It was good. Very good.
I buried my head against her shoulder, breathing in faint odors of lilac perfume and the smell of her body, and closed my eyes to blot out everything but the feeling of fucking.
I plunged and Janet spread wider. She wanted all I had, and I gave it to her. How easily my rod slid into her up to the hilt! How deliciously she spread herself, holding nothing back, shoving herself up into me and laying herself bare and shoving again, pursuing me with the tickings of her clit-tongue against me, forcing my ass down with her hands and swinging hard to drive me deeper, deeper, deeper.
I clutched her and I never wanted to let go. I had her forever now. I had her right up through the center. There was no more left to take. My balls swung up against the pillowy barrier of her bulging ass cheeks; my pubic bone ground against hers; our bellies heaved together; our chests squashed her breasts between them like drops of water between plates of glass. She sank her teeth into the muscle of my shoulder and shook her head like a bulldog. Her breath came in huge gasps and nine kept breathless pace with them.
The gun barrel blossomed and flamed with incandescent fireworks.
The tendons in Janet's thighs snapped tight like steel bands and her cunt lay rigidly open, soaking up the impact of my orgasm and shuddering in the vibrant life-throes of its own.