Chapter 4
Not for the first time this afternoon, Bill Wilson felt like a fool. Here he sat, naked, a tomato-can clutched in either hand, while a beautiful fanatic in an inappropriate evening gown fiddled with switches and dials on the opposite side of the apparatus. He realized it was a testimony to her salesmanship that he hadn't asked for his clothes, or even questioned why they were being withheld from him. And he knew that he was going through with this whole ludicrous charade because Wanda Fleurette said that he ought to. He wondered if the time would ever come when he would be able to draw the line and resist her sales pitch.
"What does this thing do?" he asked.
"Essentially, it measures your sex drive. It tells us how strong it is, and where it's directed."
"You mean, if I'm not sexy enough, I don't get to sign up?"
"Not necessarily. Your urges might be inhibited, and perhaps we could overcome those inhibitions," she said, again displaying her talent for answering questions without imparting any information.
Finally satisfied with the settings on her control panel, she sat back and said: "Now. What's the sexiest thing you can think of?"
Bill answered, quite honestly, "You."
"Don't be flippant."
"I'm not. You're a very beautiful woman. Your dress covers you about as effectively as a dim green spotlight would. You've been telling me all afternoon how great fucking is. I'd have to be some kind of a pervert, if I told you that something I made up in my head was sexier than you are."
"Very flattering," she said. She smiled. "But be more specific. Think about what you'd like to do with me. Try to picture it as clearly as you can, in as much detail as possible. Start right from the beginning. What do you see first?"
As she spoke, her voice lowered to a husky whisper. She sizzled him to a crisp with the full voltage of her green eyes. The metal cylinders felt slippery from the sweat on his palms. He tried to moisten his dry lips with his tongue, but his tongue was dry, too. At last he said, "I guess I see you standing up. Taking your dress off."
"Yes," she said. "I'd stand up. I'd ask you to unfasten it for me. You didn't see, but it's very low in the back, so low that most of my ass is bare. People tell me that I have a very pretty behind, Bill. When you undid the fastening, you'd be able to see it all, and touch it. Are you an ass man?"
"I like the whole works. I'm not partial to any particular part. I mean, assuming they're all in the right place and everything."
"That's very good," she said, even though he thought his answer had been inane, and she made a mark on a chart. "Then what would you do?"
"At that point, I think I would just let nature take its course, assuming you were willing."
"Oh, I would be," she breathed.
"But assuming this is my sexy fantasy, and I'm trying to draw it out as long as possible, I'd sit back and watch while you took your dress off. I'd ask you to do it slowly."
She raised a neatly plucked eyebrow and made another mark on her chart as she read the dials on her panel.
"Yes," she said, "I'd tease you a little. I'd take a long time baring my breasts, and then I'd push my dress down very slowly over my hips. You'd follow it with your eyes, and you'd see that I'd shaved my cunt, so that it's just as bare as a little girl's. Then I'd ask you what you wanted me to do next."
Bill wondered how he was able to stand this excruciating torture. He lusted to feel her tits, and here he sat holding these two damned tomato cans while she spoke of lascivious delights in her sexy, throaty voice. His cock felt as if it were ready to burst out of its skin.
"I'd much rather do it than talk about it," he said.
She nodded. "That's a very good sign." She made another mark on her chart. "But we have to complete the test. Go on and tell me what you'd like me to do next. I'm standing in front of you, nude, willing to do anything you ask. Anything."
"Since this is my fantasy, I guess there's no point in exerting myself," he said with a touch of asperity. "So I'd ask you-no, I'd tell you, you damned exasperating cock-teaser, I'd tell you to step right up and sit on my cock."
She smiled at his outburst as she marked her chart. "Would you want me to face you, or would you rather put it in from the back?"
"I don't think it would make much difference," he said, and he tried to swallow. "No, I guess I'd want you to face me, because even though you are a damned exasperating cock-teaser, you're a very pretty one, and I'd like to kiss you while I was fucking you."
"That's nice," she said. "So I'd come forward until I was standing right over your lap. I'd put one hand on your shoulder to balance myself, and I'd reach down with my other hand to hold your prick up at just the right angle-or would you rather do that yourself?"
"No, I'd be perfectly willing to let you hold my prick," he groaned.
"Then I'd lower myself until I felt the tip of it nudging into my cunt. I'd work myself down slowly, because you didn't even bother with any foreplay, you selfish bastard, and so my pussy would be very dry and tight. It wouldn't take long to loosen up though, and get nice and wet, so the last part of your prick would go in very, very easily, like a knife cutting warm butter. And then what would you do?"
"I'd kiss you. On the mouth, and on the neck, and then down to your tits."
"Ooh, that sounds good! And I hope you'd hold my ass in both hands, to help me move up and down on your prick, because it would be hard work to do it with my legs alone, squatting like that," she said, sounding positively eager.
"If you asked nicely, I would."
"Do you like women to tell you how much they like it when you're fucking them? I mean, would you like me to tell you?"
"If you meant it, I would."
"I'm sure I'd mean it," she said, continuing to mark his chart. "There's nothing I like better than a big long prick, one that's able to really fill me up, and you're certainly okay in that department. So I'd whisper in your ear, and I'd tell you how good your big cock felt in my cunt, and I'd beg you to move it around and really ream me out while I was bouncing up and down in your lap. I have a terrific cunt, Bill. Maybe I sound vain, but too many men have told me that for me not to believe it. My pussy would fit you just as tight as a rubber glove, it would be like a second skin on your prick, all juicy and wet and hot, and I'd make it squeeze you and rub you and give you the fuck of your life."
Bill had never before considered himself capable of raping a woman. Reading of such crimes, he had thought that a man capable of taking a woman against her will must have a truly beastly streak in his nature. Now he knew that he himself was capable of it. It was only through a violent effort of will that he restrained himself from leaping across the F-meter, grabbing the sensuous Wanda, and socking the blocks to her.
"Listen," he said, his voice a dry rasp, "I don't think I can take much more of this. I mean, you said that repression was a sickness, and right now you're repressing the hell out of me. I've got to lay you."
She pouted thoughtfully. He regretted that his pitch had been so blunt and clumsy, but he was tantalized by the hope that she might actually be weighing the idea of letting him screw her. After all, Ms. Palmer had come across; and Wanda had stated that free love was one of the tenets of her philosophy.
Apparently, though, she'd just been thinking of an easy way to let him down, because she said: "Bill, I know this is rough on you. These readings on the meter are truly amazing. They tell me, even better than your words do, how horny you are. But we have to go through with this. If it's any consolation to you, you're doing just fine on your test. Nevertheless, we have to complete it."
"And then?"
She gave him an up-from-under smile that completed the job of turning his bones to jelly. All their rigidity seemed to have been transferred to the aching, pulsing torment of his erection. It was red and purple with lust, glistening with the beads of dew that steadily oozed from the quivering tip. Wanda's eyes flickered down to it for a moment, and she wet her lips with the pretty pink tip of her tongue.
"Let's get back to our imaginary lovemaking, Bill," she suggested, evading his question. "Would you want to come in my cunt, or would you want me to suck you off?"
"Yeah," Bill groaned. "Either way."
"It doesn't take much to get me off," Wanda said. "I can have an orgasm at will. That's one of the advantages of being a Perfect. Once you've reached that stage of adjustment-assuming that you do-you'll be able to produce a hard-on simply by willing it into existence, no matter how much fucking you've been doing, and you'll be able to maintain it as long as you want. Hours, if necessary. You'll be able to satisfy a dozen women, or a hundred."
This was the first truly extravagant claim in Wanda's sales pitch, and Bill found it a little hard to swallow. It sounded like the kind of sexual fantasy he'd had when he was twelve years old. Since then, he'd become aware of human limitations. Now he would have been content merely to satisfy Amy, and to gain satisfaction from her. He felt a twinge of guilt as he thought of her, but he was able to assuage it by remembering that he was, after all, doing all this for her sake.
"What I meant to say," Wanda continued, "is that it would be perfectly all right with me if you wanted me to blow you, because I already would have had a couple of orgasms from bouncing up and down on your cock. I really love to suck."
"Then why don't you do it?" he gasped.
"Get your mind back on the test, Bill," she urged. "Just think about me pulling myself up off your cock. I suppose you'd have mixed feelings about it, wouldn't you? I mean, you'd be sorry to have me taking my cunt off your prick, but on the other hand, the air would feel nice and cool by contrast. Maybe you'd get your second wind, and you'd know that you'd be able to stand my blow job for a while without coming immediately. I bet you'd like me to kneel down in front of your chair and start licking your prick. Is that the way you'd like it?"
"Sure. Whatever you say."
She frowned slightly, detecting a faint note of disgust in his voice. He was getting tired of this game. It had been exciting at first, but the novelty was wearing off, especially since she gave no indication that she actually planned to do any of the things she was so interested in talking about.
Apparently trying harder to keep him interested, Wanda made the steady gaze of her green eyes even more sultry, injected an even sexier note into her husky voice as she said: "I'd start off by licking your cock all over, Bill, like a little girl licking an ice-cream cone. I'd just go up and down with my tongue and get every last inch of it, and I'd lick your balls, too, everything I could get my tongue on. Would you like a rim job while I'm down there?"
"What's that?" he asked.
Wanda gave him a sly smile. "I'd stick my tongue in your asshole. Didn't a girl ever do that to you?"
Uncertain whether he liked that idea or not, Bill shook his head.
"Well, you just don't know what you've been missing. It's a delicious feeling. I'd expect you to return the favor some time, of course, but I'm sure you would, once you knew how nice it feels. You'd have to move down a little on your chair, and scrunch forward, and spread your legs to let me get in there. I'd stick my tongue right up your ass and wiggle it around, and I guarantee it'd make your cock stiffer than it's ever been in your life. You wouldn't be able to stand much of it, though, because all this while your prick would be rubbing against my face and getting tangled up in my hair, and you'd be just begging me to suck it into my mouth. Maybe I'd tease you for a little bit longer, but then I'd just slurp your cock into my mouth and start sucking."
Bill wondered if it would be possible for him to ejaculate spontaneously, with no friction at all on his hard prick. He felt light-headed, and he felt on the verge of coming just from listening to her words and watching the suggestive pucker of her sexy lips.
"If you thought my cunt was good, wait till you try fucking me in the mouth," Wanda breathed. "I told you, I just love to suck, and I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that I'm probably the best cocksucker in the world. I've been working at it for a long time, and when I don't have the real thing to suck on, I do special exercises with my lips and tongue to keep me in shape."
Bill tried to say something, but he sounded to himself like a man gargling with sand. Julia Palmer had amazed him with her talents as a fellatrice, but somehow he knew that Wanda would be even better.
"Just imagine it, Bill. There I'd be, kneeling m front of you, sucking and licking you like nothing you ever felt before. You'd be squirming around on the chair, trying to give me every last inch. I'd be able to take it, too, I know the trick of opening up my throat so you could stick your prick right down into it. Would you want to come in my mouth, or would you want to go back to fucking me again? Or maybe you'd like to touch all the bases, and fuck me up the ass. I'm very good at that, too, even if I do say so myself."
"I think," Bill said, and then paused for a moment to clear his throat, "I think I'd like to come in your mouth."
"That's a good choice," Wanda said, making another notation on his chart. "From my point of view, anyway, because I just love to eat come. I'd have to slip your cock out part of the way so I could feel it and taste it on my tongue, and I'd suck until I got every last drop. There's a line in the Kama Sutra to the effect that only bad girls swallow it, so I guess I'm a bad girl by Hindu standards. I always swallow it. I have a theory that it's good for the complexion."
He wondered if there was any end to her crazy theories. But maybe she knew what she was talking about. Her smooth, golden, glowing skin certainly couldn't be faulted.
"Now that we've finished talking about it," Bill began, starting to put down the two metal cylinders he'd been holding all this while.
"We're not finished," Wanda interrupted. "Keep holding the F-meter. We have to go on to the next phase of the test."