Chapter 1
The rushing water slipping over my breasts was soothing, and yet strangely erotic. I could feel tiny droplets tickling the insides of my thighs as though they were wet fingers searching for my crevice.
And then the sound began a pumping, pounding sensation in the physical reality of a man moving inside my feverish cunt, providing the climax I desperately needed. I loved feeling the pain dwindle under the force of new and rising passions, transforming piece by piece of my body until all of me vibrated and glowed like a live ember, shaking me, taking me from red heat to white and then suddenly snuffing the fires in a wave of cool nothingness I I thought of nothing in my bathtub and aspired to nothing, I only lived it.
But when Thelma walked into the bathroom unexpectedly I was aware enough to look normal for her sake. "There's a man on the phone," announced the maid, "and he says he's a senator. What do you want me to tell him?"
"Bring the extension in here and plug it in for me," I said. The news thrilled me and I wanted her to be quick, to leave me and Briggsy alone while the water rushed head-on into my cunt and my body was so vital and up!
"Hell, he's probably lying," said Thelma, who didn't trust anyone, but she plugged the phone in and handed me the extension. I nodded at her to let her know I wanted to be alone. With a faint snort she went back to the kitchen, and I turned the tap on full blast before I began talking.
"Briggsy? How nice to hear your voice again," I purred.
"Donna darling, I couldn't wait to call you. But I thought I'd wait until your husband had gone to work."
"Why, did you have to say words he shouldn't hear?" I teased.
"A great many of them. What's that watery sound in the background?"
"I'm in the bath, Briggsy, quite naked," I said. "You know, ever since we bumped into each other last night I've been having such weird recollections. You really took advantage of my youth, didn't you?"
"Naked in the bath," he said, ignoring my question. "I can see you now with those lovely big breasts and your pink nipples. My mouth is watering at the picture I'm getting. You're as lovely now as you were eight years ago, Donna, and when I left that party I went right home and masturbated to your memory. Damn, you gave me some of the best times I've ever had."
"That's nice of you," I said, and I pressed the nozzle of the shower harder into my pussy so that the stream of water erupted all about my clitoris. Pieces of the past swam in a livid profusion before my mind's eye, his big-veined cock throbbing right before my face, his big, heavy balls, the desire in his eyes, the taste of his hard flesh between my lips, secret moments snatched from the office routine, and the time I sucked him off under his desk while he conferred with his aides (who had no idea there was a woman present).
"What do you say we get together?" he went on. My mind took a tumble at that. Just to have him heaving on top of me again, his big cock dipping deep into my syrupy pussy, feeling his hairy chest scratch at my tits, his moustache tickling my lips and bearing the fumes of my cunt juices still, oh God, I'd give anything for that! Desperately my mind tried to reconstruct the reasons I'd had for leaving him all those years ago. Had I gone crazy? Or had there been valid reasons for splitting? I tried so hard to think but each time I pieced a couple of notions together, a jet of sensuality blew it all apart and left me reeling in memories that only served to stir up my loins. The nozzle was simulating the actions of a cock, pushing in and pulling out, hosing my insides, my asshole, and my clit all in their turn. I twisted around in the bath and tried not to scream out my assent.
"Give me a few hours to think it over, Briggsy," I pleaded, almost at the end of my tether.
"What's to think about?" he asked.
"Don't ask me. Just let me call you back later. You know I want to see you again but I have to think first!" At that I dropped the receiver into its cradle and masturbated at full-pelt until the worst of my attack of frustration had worn off. This had to stop! I got out of the bath feeling like a frazzle, and when I turned around to get a towel there was Thelma, smirking at me from the doorway
"Y'all finished with the phone?" she asked, giving the last word a lilt of innocence.
"Yes. You weren't listening on the extension, were you?" I asked. Thelma didn't even bother to answer me. She unplugged the phone and stood with it in her hand, watching me as I dried myself. Her eyes were on my pubic bush and I felt myself flush all over under her unflinching gaze. "What's the matter!" I snapped finally.
"What? Oh, I was just thinking how lucky white folks are not to have to straighten their goddamn hair all the time," she said.
"There's nothing wrong with curly hair," I replied.
"Curly like yours, sure, but not corkscrews like mine." She was still looking at my snatch and I found it hard to believe that she was only looking at the hair.
"Well, I'm sure your hair looks an awful lot better than that wig." I was getting desperate. There was no way to tell her not to look at my cunt and yet I wanted her to avert her gaze, think of something else, anything to get my pussy out of the limelight. Only half an hour earlier I had almost poked it up into her face but now that she was looking I felt that old fear rise in me again.
"You think so?" With one hand she took off her nylon wig and revealed her hair, bunchy, combed right back and sticking up in awkward places once her wig was off. But she did look better. Now her face was in full relief, the high cheekbones jutted out and the skin looked all the tauter, her nose looked finer, her eyes turned out to be bigger and more sexy than I had thought, and her full lips contrasted sensually with the flat planes of her cheeks. Her neck looked longer, too, and her shoulders seemed broader, all because that stupid catchers mitt was out of the way. "Well?"
"Wow, does it ever!" I said, breathless in spite of myself. "If I were you I'd toss that wig into the garbage. You look ten times better!"
"Yeah, right," she said, but she looked pleased through her wryness. She turned on her heel and left me alone again. I went into the bedroom and lay down to catch my breath. The morning had taken off at such a pace! It was as though I was being carried on the crest of a tidal wave. My hands snuggled in between the tops of my thighs and my muscles went tense all of a sudden as a flash of lust tore through my loins. It had been a long time since a man had made love to me definitively. Of course it was my own fault. I had married Ted knowing that he was basically a provider of material benefits. Anything more complex was beyond him. A full sex life to him was a monthly blow job. Yes, I had known that beforehand ... and it had been one of the major reasons for accepting his offer to marry him. At that time I'd had it with, sex, everywhere I turned I found myself being assaulted by it, overwhelmed by it, and super-saturated. But now, after all those years of marriage, I could only look back on that period with the deepest nostalgia.
I turned over on my side into the fetal position and lay there with my hands hard against my pussy, feeling myself throb with desire. In my mind I saw Briggsy's big dick sticking up and out at me, and I opened my lips a little just as I had done then so they fitted over the tip of his knob. I had sucked him like a guppy in those days, just to get him started, nibbling with my lips, and the deep groans of pleasure were my reward. The senator took more than he gave as a rule, but when he gave it was with a passion. I had to stop thinking about him, at least in that way. It would only bias my case. For all that, my mind drifted back in time, back, back, right back to the very beginning....
At the age of sixteen I was considered a very popular girl in high school. The big shots among the student population were eager to date me and I accepted their fumbling propositions as my due. Actually none of the boys interested me greatly. Next to my uncle they were such dunderheads. Where Arnie was smooth, they were rough, where he could make me feel good they made me feel unappreciated, and besides that Arnie was much better looking than all of the boys put together. He was tall and tanned, he was a commercial pilot, and when he visited us wearing his uniform I used to come close to passing out!
He was staying with us for a few weeks one time when it happened. I had no idea that he had anything like that in mind, and I didn't know what to hope for. All I knew was that I had a date with the boy most likely to succeed and that I didn't want to go. Rather than go to the dance with him, I wanted to stay home with my parents and my favorite uncle, even though that meant doing nothing more exciting than watching TV. But I dressed, and I sprayed my hair and applied lipstick, and waited for my date resignedly. Arnie told me I looked beautiful and I almost cried at the injustice of life.
The boy's name was Harold, a big, broad-shouldered guy with a white-blond crew-cut and untroubled blue eyes. When he came in to pick me up he stood next to my uncle, and the difference was like night and day. My uncle looked worldly, shrewd, sensual and infinitely wise. Harold just looked like a big cheeseburger. On the way to the dance he toiled to make conversation and laboriously put a few bon mots together in an effort to slay me. I acted like a real bitch but he was too bland to notice. That whole evening seemed to be part of a conspiracy to get me out of my home town and into the mainstream of life. Dull couples danced dull dances. I looked at my contemporaries and they seemed middle-aged already. The people who were going steady would be married, the man would work until he died and the woman would live on the proceeds, and neither of them would notice the difference. I didn't know much about the outside world except what I had read in magazines. Out there exciting rumblings were rolling over the country, people were changing life styles, experimenting, breaking molds, and they weren't spraying their hair!
It was all so remote! Harold and I danced to the music emitted by a washed-up rock & roll band, and when that became intolerable I asked him to take me outside for some fresh air. I was gasping for breath, as though the stifling of my spirit had spread to the physical level. But Harold thought I was giving; him the big come-on. He took me into the parking lot and when I leaned back against a car he leaned into me. I was shocked! His hard, masculine body pressed against mine so firmly that I could make out every detail of his person. His breath smelled of some sticky mouthwash and after-shave lotion mixed uneasily with hair cream, he revolted me ... and yet he touched off something in me that took me by storm!
It was his strength that first got to me. The moment I stood with my back against the car and allowed him to embrace me, he had me trapped, and my life was actually in his hands. He could tear off my dress, my bra, my panties, he could maul my most private parts, and there would be nothing I could do about it except scream and scratch. The law would come down on him but by that time the deed would have been done. A cold stream of fear trickled through my veins, mixing with blood that had suddenly come to the boil. He was so strong! His loins were against mine and his powerful weapon humped into me with slow, deliberate jerks, his big hands held my upper arms and were very near to my breasts, his lips crushed into mine and his tongue demanded entry. I was revolted, frightened, and intensely excited. Harold might have the strength, but I had the power. He wanted me, every fibre in his body stood erect just for me, and I could either give him what he wanted or withhold it. That big cock pulsing in his pants was his tribute to my looks and shape, his heavy breathing and those hands holding back from grabbing my tits, they too signified that the balance of power was tilted my way. And in spite of my mounting curiosity I decided to keep it that way.
"No, Harold, don't!" I gasped, as if it were costing me an effort to reject him. "It's not right, not here!"
"Let's go park then," he said, his face as eager as a puppy's.
"No, I feel really weird. Take me home, please?"
"Aw hell!" He didn't want to do it but he was too well-mannered to refuse me. I got into the car and sat right near the passenger door. Harold's gentlemanliness disappointed me deep down but now that he had made his decision he was stuck with it. The car nosed its way out of the parking lot and toward home. Harold drove slowly and without concentration. He kept turning to me as if to tell me something, then he would change his mind and keep silent. It wasn't until we were on my block that he turned into a man of action. I expected him to slow down but he stepped on the gas instead.
"Where are you going!" I cried.
"Donna, you got to do me a favor," he said in an agonized voice. "I won't ever ask you to do this for me again but hell, it's dangerous for a guy to get too excited and then have his girl give him nothing. Something happens to your testicles, they swell up and turn blue and very sore. So you got to help me out."
"What do you want me to do?" AH this was news to me but it certainly sounded dreadful.
"Give me a hand job." He stopped the car by the side of the road, turned the ignition off, and turned to face me, all in one motion.
"What do you mean?"
"Will you do it?" He was insistent and tense, beads of sweat pearled down from his brow, and I became worried that he might do something rash if I didn't do whatever it was he wanted from me. So I nodded and his face lit up at once. "Oh, thanks, that's terrific! I'll show you how to do it, it's easy once you get the knack." He fumbled with his zipper and I began to get an inkling of what a hand job entailed. I was far from sure that I wanted to do it for him suddenly. His cock had felt so big and hard, and Harold was so desperate, that he might turn the tables on me. But it was too late to change my mind. That big hard thing reared up out of his pants and a nearby streetlamp shone its yellow light right on it. I leaned a little closer to see exactly what his dick looked like but he couldn't wait for my inspection to be over. His hands came over to the back of my head and he took advantage of my curiosity by pushing my face down toward his dick. The flushed, helmet-shaped knob approached me like a fist about to knock me out and I hastily drew back. "I'm sorry," I heard "Harold say, "try it this way."
Now he took my hand and brought it over to the stalk of his big dick. I shivered as my flesh touched his most private part and my muscles went taut. Surprisingly it felt very nice! His skin was silky soft and very warm, and when my fingers closed around it his hardness took on a squeezable quality that thrilled me right to the marrow. Harold adjusted my grin so as to get my fist to close around his cock at medium pressure, and low enough to put the edge of his foreskin in between my fist and his glans. And when that part of it was set he took my wrist and moved my arm up and down slowly to make my hand rise and fall around his cock and to get the foreskin to brush up and down the knob.
"Aaaaaahhh, yeah, that's good, just keep doing it that way," he said, settling back into the seat. "And if you want to do anything else, like kiss it or take it into your mouth, why, you just go right ahead."
"Why would I want to do that?" I asked, pulling a face. He ignored me and I kept beating him off at a steady pace, nice and easy, just as he liked it. Harold grew restless, his hips kept shifting from side to side and up and down, and he produced strange little sounds at the back of his throat. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling but it pleased me to be causing him to act this way. I placed my free arm over the back of the seat and watched his knob appear and disappear under the sliding flute of skin. What was he getting out of this? and how long would I have to keep this up for?
"Yeah, a bit faster now," he panted. "Oh Jesus that's nice! Faster, that's the way!" I did as he told me and watched him squirm and huff under my ministrations. This was fun! It was as though he were a puppet and I was pulling his string. I went faster still and he responded all the more. Was there any limit to what I could make him do? My hand became a blur and the awning of his knob brushed against my hand now, chafingly abrasive in a silken way, and now Harold's sweat dripped down on my hand. "Yes, yes, aaaaaaahhhhhhh-SSSSSSSSSSssssssss!!" His whole body went rigid and a burst of white fluid blew out of the top of his cock, thick drops of it that arched through the air and landed on his good pants. I stopped jerking him off in amazement but he hissed at me to keep going. More of it bubbled out, flying a little way before joining the growing pool on his clothes. I couldn't get over the process. A whey smell reached my nostrils and some of it dribbled down on my hand. It was surprisingly cool and creamy. I pumped at his dick to milk all of it out of his body and at last he told me to stop.
"Thanks a lot," he said. I thought he was being grateful but no, he was looking down at his pants and frowning at the mess I had made there. "Now how the hell am I going to explain this to my Mom!"
"That's your problem," I snapped. The subtle, mild euphoria that had suffused me during the hand job now popped like a soap bubble and I felt angry at his reproach.
"Goddamn it," he said petulantly, "well, I guess I'd better get on home and clean this shit out. Do me a favor, Donna, walk back to your place will you? I've got to hurry."
It wasn't until I stood outside and watched his tail-lights recede that I realized that the balance of power had tipped his way so steeply that it had tipped me off altogether. I walked home slowly and tried to gather my thoughts. Despicable as Harold's behavior had been, I wasn't unhappy about it. The hand that had blown his stack still tingled with echoes of pleasure, and the memory of his sperm shooting up into the air made me shiver deep down and very intensely. It felt moist between my legs and I noticed that my nipples were hard and touchy. Oh, if only he'd come back to me now! I'd be much more agreeable!
Of course Harold didn't come back. I got home around midnight, tired from walking and thinking, and all I wanted to do was take a cool shower and go to bed. Still lost in my thoughts I wandered into the bathroom and closed the door behind me-only to find someone else in there with me! "Uncle!" I said. "I'm very sorry, I just didn't look!"
He stood over the toilet and both his hands were in front of him at the level of his cock. He looked around at me unsmilingly and his hands shook his cock, flushed the toilet, and fell by his side as he slowly turned to face me. "Hello, Donna," he said quietly. My eyes tried to stay away from his belly but something lured my glance downward, and there it was, my uncle's prick, a big, long, heavy cock that dangled out the fly of his pajama pants for all the world to see. A minute passed by. I was rooted to the spot, enthralled by his exposed cock, and I didn't know what else to do anyway. Arnie reached down unexpectedly and flipped his dick back into his pajamas. He walked past me and left the bathroom. When the door closed behind him I let out a deep sigh and just sagged down to the floor in complete exhaustion.
The cold shower perked me up a bit. Those feverish pockets of passion were distributed more evenly throughout my body, and by the end of the shower I felt almost back to normal. I made it back to my room and, without turning on the lights, I dropped my clothes on a chair and flung myself onto the bed naked. The sheets felt cool and fresh, the night's breeze flowed over my body calmingly, and bit by bit I slipped into a deep trough of sleep. I loved that feeling of sinking away into sleep, drowsily surrendering every part of myself to Morpheus the way Yd seen women give in to Dracula. Troubles faded out of the picture, peace took their place, and everything else moved into the realm of the utterly possible. In my dreams I could overcome the world! But right near the nadir something bothered me, a tiny sound that wasn't in order, and then another, not much but enough to make me begin to ascent to the surface. The bed took the weight of someone and I knew I was in danger. I tried to reach the surface more quickly, desperate as if for air, but the harder I tried' the slower my progress became! "Oh no!" I heard myself cry out, and a second later a hand clamped over my mouth.
"Ssssshhhhh!" someone whispered. Another hand removed the sheet that covered my nakedness and my vulnerability was complete. I began to shiver even though I was still far from knowing what was going on. The hand moved over to my breasts and caressed them ever so lightly. "It's me, Arnie," the voice whispered. "Just lie perfectly still, keep your eyes closed, and don't make a sound!"
Arnie? But what did he want with me? I was confused and afraid but I did as he told me to do. His hands roamed freely over my body, waking me up, arousing me, and bit by bit I managed to piece the whole situation together. The burning image of his thick, flaccid cock lit up before my mind's eye and that completed the process. Arnie wanted to touch me? He could do anything he wanted with mel I felt I ought to tell him but he had said to be quiet, so I lay there with my eyes shut and my body wholly accessible to his caresses.
"Do you like it, baby?" he asked, whispering the words into my ear. I nodded and he kissed me quickly on the mouth. His hands squeezed my breasts, slowly, rhythmically, kneading them until they tingled hotly and sent erotic messages down into my loins. My nipples were hard and over-sensitive and I was worried about my pussy being too wet when he touched it. Would he think I was too bold? "You're beautiful," he told me, "and you're getting more beautiful every day. I couldn't hold back any longer. I've spent entire nights thinking about you, getting hard and frustrated, straining to imagine you naked and how you would feel and taste! Don't be angry with me and don't tell your parents. This is important to me!"
"It's okay," I assured him. He brought his lips to my nipples, one after the other, and kissed and tugged at them till my head was spinning. At the same time he rested his body along my legs and pressed his hard cock into the flesh of my thigh as if he wanted to leave a permanent impression there. He still had on his pajamas and I was dying for him to take them off. I had known him for so long and I loved him so much that I wasn't scared of his nakedness. I wanted to explore, see for myself what the opposite sex had to offer me, and my uncle could show it all to me. As if he had read my thoughts he interrupted his lovemaking and quickly slipped out of the pajamas. Only the street light filtered through into my bedroom but I saw his cock clearly silhouetted against the lace curtains, big and hard and upright, pulsing with power. I wanted to remain passive for him but I couldn't help myself. My hands reached out for that big thing and grabbed hold of it enthusiastically.
"Well all right," he breathed, and he moved up close, straddling my torso, so I could play with it to my heart's content. "Go ahead baby, take a little taste!" I knew I should resist but it was impossible. Images of cocks had filled my brain and now my other senses wanted to know more about this lump of manhood that had been kept from me for so long. I sniffed at it first suspiciously perhaps, but it only gave off a very faint odor of manliness and cotton. The tip of my tongue flicked out shyly and touched the smooth flesh of the upper part of his dick. It was hard and yet it yielded to pressure, much like smooth rubber. I had to do that again, just a taste, and another, and another, and before long my tongue had wetted his dick down from top to bottom, reveling in his hardness, his silky skin, and those bulging veins filled with blood that boiled just for me. "Take it right in your mouth," my uncle suggested. I looked at it and sized it up warily. It seemed much too big but I opened up wide and let his knob slip in between my lips. This was even better than licking it Inch by inch his manhood disappeared into my face, choking me and blocking my breathing, and if I hadn't been so elated I might have gagged. As it was kept on swallowing more, and when I had half of his dick down my throat I moved my head back and forth according to his instructions, with my lips tightly pursed about his shaft.
I could still feel the soft texture of my uncle's dick, even eight years later. He supported my head with both his hands and I had wrapped my arms about his back so his dick could stand up and dig right into my mouth. I recalled the thrill of hearing him breathe heavily, torturedly, of feeling his sweat drop on my body and hearing his gasped compliments. And I stretched out along my bed, the covers thrown back, my legs as far apart as they could go, both my hands tugging and grabbing at my crotch as my body shuddered toward an explosive climax. The moment of ecstasy came when my uncle had been unable to hold back. He had warned me that he was going to come but I didn't connect that with the white fluid that had burst out of Harold's cock. Only when he actually shot his wad did one and one add up to two.
What a moment that had been! I dug my fingers into my snatch and jerked off brutally, rolling from side to side to get a better grip on myself, stirring my cunt up and making the fluids inside squelch and slosh, breathing frantically while my mind did its utmost to conjure up that one beautiful moment when his hot sperm had hit the roof of my mouth and the first heavy drops had rolled down my throat. I could taste the faint saltiness, yes I could, and I heard my uncle grunt, felt his hands tighten behind my head, pulling me toward his dick while more of it pushed down my mouth. I began to choke and splutter just as I had then and for a moment I felt that thick syrup of sperm wash down my gullet again, an endless stream fed by more eruptions of nectar. I rolled over on my belly and scrambled to get my knees up under myself, sticking two, three fingers into my cunt from behind and rubbing my clitoris with the other hand from below, grunting, sweating, completely out of my mind with bygone lust. There it came, I could feel it rising, gathering momentum, a hot ball of passion rolling through my body and leaving calmness in its wake. "OOOOHHHH!" I cried, grimacing and shaking my head, "YESSSSSS, AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! I"
It was done. I fell back and just lay there, breathing deeply and sweating out the fever that had possessed me. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs but I didn't have the energy to cover up. Aware of my stiff nipples and the pussy hair matted down by my juices, I lay there and let whoever it was come in. "Are you okay, honey?" asked Thelma, eyeing me with concern. "I thought you were in trouble by the wav you were carrying on."
"I'm all right now, thanks," I said. The black woman nodded and left me again, shaking her head as if she thought I were crazy.