Chapter 2
Ross hung around in the hall next morning, but at last he had no more time and was forced to gallop to get to work on time.
Hank was already there, and he was sorry he'd missed her. He didn't see her all that much, since she spent most of her time in Mister Hochstadter's private office. She and Ross also played the office game by the unwritten rule: they pretended no more than casual notice of each other.
This was his night at the Y, and by the time he left-having been told he might consider trying out for the Olympic swimming team, which he knew was horseshit-it was after ten. He paused outside his door, looking down the hallway and thinking about her, considering. But he decided against it and went on in and to bed, with another of the super-sexy books Mason had left behind. Ross much preferred the books to the pictures. Pictures were too damned expensive and were nice for a few minutes, and after that they were old stuff. A book lasted a lot longer and he liked the buildup within himself as he read the unfolding scenes.
Mason hadn't seemed to have bought anything but erotica, but maybe he'd taken the rest of his books and magazines with him. Whether he was trying to prove something, or just thinking hopefully about Hank, Ross wasn't sure. But he left his cock unspent and drank a beer, which, at midnight, made him sleepy.
They rode home together Wednesday, but she told him she was going out.
He ate-a chicken potpie, since he wasn't much of a cook and didn't care a dime about fixing himself anything that took any trouble.
Then, cursing the House Rules, he got into his swim-trunks, pulled his pants on over them, and went down to the buildings' basement. There the well-off builder-owner got a little better off with coin washers and dryers and also provided a small swimming pool. Why in hell he had then posted the rule about no "bathing" suits in the halls, Ross couldn't imagine. Probably protecting our morals, he thought, glancing around at the four other people here.
There were two girls-women, he corrected himself; call 'em girls these days and get your balls kicked!
-over on the far side of the pool, apparently together. And a very bosomy black woman-actually she was a medium-brown Negro girl, but there were rules about what you called them, too, these days. She had cleverly molded herself into a yellow suit that was beautiful against her old-penny skin. She lay on her side at the far end of the pool, alone, trailing one hand lazily in the water.
One of those super-muscular guys with a shock of blond hair was diving repeatedly of the board, displaying his excellent form and then climbing out to repeat the process. Sorry, Ross thought, I'm not a producer of Italian movies.
He dropped his pants, doffed his shirt, and left them on the long row of benches that ran along the wall. Then he carried his towel over to the edge of the pool and tested the water with his foot before doing anything rash like plunging into arctic deeps.
Oh, man, he thought. The pool was not only lighted from below with soft blue bulbs, but it was heated as well.
He backed up, took five or six running steps, and went straight in, in a damned good cleaving dive that carried him well out into the water. He touched bottom with one hand, then breast-stroked strongly, in a shallow upward glide.
He came up about five feet from the other side. Treading water, he jerked his head and squeezed his eyes shut before shoving the hair off his forehead.
The big blond guy went kasploooosh and came up a few feet away.
"Hey, you did a good dive over there," he said.
"Thanks," Ross said. "How's the board?"
"Oh, great. Gotta be careful though, this pool's only about twelve feet deep. You can bruise a few knuckles. Haven't seen you down here before."
"Name's Ross Stender. I just moved in Sunday night."
"Oh. Hello, Ross. I'm John, John Button."
"Button?"
John nodded his handsome, very blond head. "That's it. I'm the only one I know."
Ross laughed. "You're the only one I know too, John. Think I'll try the board."
"Careful about your angle!"
"Yeah."
Ross was careful about his angle, so careful that he took a little too much impact on his gut. He came up gasping and floundering. Suddenly a strong arm slid around his waist and he was tugged swiftly to the side. John boosted him up-and patted him fondly on the ass as Ross wiggled over the edge and lay flat, gasping. His stomach felt as if somebody'd let him have it with a leather paddle.
Then he realized. That damned guy patted me on the tail!
That wasn't all. Now that damned guy was sitting beside him, swinging his legs over the pool's edge, and patting Ross just as fondly on the back.
"You all right, Ross?"
"Sure, I'm all right. I took too damned much of your advice. In my eagerness to keep from bouncing off the bottom of the pool I did a belly-whopper. But I didn't really need help."
"That's okay. No trouble. You sure do have a nice back, Ross."
"Uh ... yeah, well, quit patting it, will you, John? I don't want anybody to get the wrong idea, okay?"
John smiled. Perfect teeth, naturally. "Anybody? Hell, there's nobody down here but us chickens."
"I ain't no chicken, John, and what about those two dolls over there? One of 'em's watching."
This time John's smile broadened into a laugh. "You're not in any need of impressing them, Ross. They, ah, they're roommates. And they don't like boys."
"Men?"
"Men either."
Ross blinked. "Well, there's a chick down at the other end of the pool, like."
"A chi...." John's hand had left Ross's back, but now it came back. "Her?"
"Yeah. Looks great from here. Don't tell me she's Lesbian, too!"
"Beats me, but, uh, you color blind, Ross?"
Ross rolled away from the hand he didn't want on his back and came up into a squat, facing the other man. He stared darkly into John's big gray eyes.
"Yeah, in some ways. Yeah, I guess I am. You prejudiced?"
"Well I uh, no, I mean, ah ..
"You wouldn't make it with a black cat, huh?"
"No man, I...." John broke off.
"Neither would I, John. Or a white cat, either. Dig?"
John gazed at him, then nodded. "Yeah. You prejudiced, Ross?"
Ross had to grin. "About what I do, yes. Not about what you do, John."
John nodded. "Well."
"Friends?"
"Yeah!" John grinned. They exchanged a symbolic handshake, although Ross half expected a finger to scratch his palm. It didn't happen, and he felt a little ashamed. Maybe he was prejudiced, about gays. He'd have to work on that. But he wasn't interested in experience.
Right now he felt like showing them all something, and maybe proving something to himself. He nodded, swung a hand in a sort of little salute, and plunged back into the water again. He stroked to the other end of the pool and managed to come up about two feet from the black girl's face.
She blinked.
"Hi," Ross said.
"Yeah, hi."
"Name's Ross, and I had to come see what the face that goes with that beautiful yellow suit looked like. Mind?"
"Lord, what a line! Maybe you ought to take that jive slick stuff back to John-John, baby. I mean, you two got a date made?"
Ross grinned. "No, although we did just talk about that. I'm trying to kick the habit."
She came up on one elbow. Yeah, she sure did have a lot of tit, all right.
"You serious? You gay and trying to break loose?"
"Something like that."
She shook her head. "That's not easy, boy."
Ross hoped his sigh was convincing.
She didn't even smile. "Well, good luck, man. You ever need help, I'm in three-oh-six. Ross, huh?"
He nodded. "Ross. Who're you?"
She let her gaze sort of roam over his face. She pursed her lips, put her head on one side while she considered, then said, "Beejo Butler."
"Beejo?"
"Yeah. I don't happen to like "Betty Joe okay?"
"Okay, Beejo. Well, so I need help."
She studied him. "You gotta be kiddin."
"Nuh-uh." He shook his head. "Serious. God, you've acted understanding-you prejudiced?"
"Against which, man, shades or homosexuals trying to kick the habit?"
"Either," he said, smiling. "Both."
Her long sigh made her big yellow-clad breasts rise high and drop back with a rippling shudder. Suddenly she wriggled forward.
"Hang onto the edge," she said, gripping him by the ears. She planted a long and warm, lip-moving kiss on his lips.
"There," she said quietly, pulling her head back a few inches. "Feel anything?"
He acted excited. "I ... I think so! Could you do it again?"
"Wow. Listen, you do know how to kiss?" He nodded.
"With boys " she sighed. "All right, try, man!"
He tried. He sent his tongue into her mouth and swirled it about in deep sensual circles. One of her hands slipped off his hair and around to the back of his head. She pressed his face to hers and sucked his deeply engulfed tongue.
She was panting when she broke off, this time. "God damn, man, you sure and hell know how to kiss! How'd it grab you?"
"I liked it," he said enthusiastically. "I think maybe
"Feel yourself," she murmured, studying his blue eyes with her brown ones. "See if you've got a hard-on.
He slipped one hand down into the water, but he didn't put it anywhere near his crotch. He sighed and looked down as if he couldn't meet her gaze. That way he was looking into the deep dark valley between her big swollen-looking tits. They were beautiful, framed within the broad yellow V of her swim suit.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but ... I know I felt something."
"Maybe you're a hopeless case, Ross."
He jerked his head up. "I don't want to be! Couldn't you come up to my apartment, have a drink, kiss some more?"
"Ross, you know what? You are crazy, flat-out crazy!" Then she added, "Yeah."
"I have to get back into my pants," he told her, and he didn't have to check to know his penis was squaring its shoulders. God, what a dishonest son-of-a-bitch lam!
She patted his cheek. "You do that. I got a wrap, right here. Meet you over there." She rolled away, showing him a long naked expanse of beautifully smooth, deeply tan back. Below that was the sudden swell of broad hips and fine buttocks, crushed together in the yellow suit.
Grinning, he turned and stroked across the pool. He grabbed pants and shirt and ran into the little dressing room marked MEN, skinned out of the trunks, toweled his genitals and ass, and pulled on his pants and shirt over nothing but wet body. He walked out and here came Beejo, grinning.
The two Lesbians and poor old John stared at them as they exited.
"I gotta go in your bathroom and get out of this wet suit," Beejo said, as they entered his apartment.
"Right. Want a drink or a beer? Got some gin and some bourbon. Oh, and a bottle of Rhine and some Reishng."
"Some of the wine, thank you," she said, and vanished into the pint-sized bathroom.
He got out of his humid clothes and pulled on the navy velour robe his aunt had made him for Christmas, last year. Then he broke out bottle and glasses and poured two full of Rhine wine. She was in the living room when he turned from the corner that was his kitchen; refrigerator and oven built into the walL fold-down range and table.
"You walk quiet," Ross said.
"Uh-huh. Hey, that's some beautiful robe, man."
"Thanks. My aunt made it for me. I like yours better." Hers was vertically striped, like Joseph's coat, in five shades running from yellow into red and back again. It wrapped, tied, and was short. Her bosom jiggled restlessly inside and he could hardly keep from pulling it open or shoving a hand inside. But he had to stick to his role. He was feeling more of a dishonest s.o.b. by the moment.
"You like it warm?"
She arched an eyebrow at him, then said, "Oh, the wine. Lord, no. Room temperature means a drafty old castle in France or someplace. Drop a cube in, okay?"
He dropped a cube in both glasses. They both drank. Then he bent to kiss her again. She was about five feet three, rounded everywhere, pretty, and wore her hair cropped so close she looked like she'd just got off a boat from Nigeria. He's seen a singer with hair like that on Flip Wilson. Couldn't remember her name. He thought it was sexy; it made her head look small and vulnerable, unprotected by the usual mass of hair. He hated the do's wrongly called Naturals.
They kissed for about a minute, and they got closer, still holding their glasses. He felt the restless surge of her big jugs against his chest, through both their robes. Her hand came up behind his neck. Their tongues swung and crossed and jabbed like wet dueling swords.
She was panting again. "I tell you, Ross baby, you may, ah, be that way, but you have definite possibilities. I mean man you kiss like a regular Don Juan."
"Let's do some more."
She glanced at her wine, then smiled at him and turned it up. He drank his off, too. It wasn't the way to drink wine, but Rhine hardly counted, not at a couple of bucks a bottle. They parked the glasses on the end table and moved onto the couch.
They kissed as if somebody'd just passed a law against it, but it didn't go into effect until midnight. They had less than four hours. Her hand slid inside his robe, roamed his chest, and began playing with his nipples. That was a new one, a woman messing with those silly little buds, and he got a surprise. It was damned good, damned erotic, and a tremor of heated delight shot through him.
They held that kiss for about five minutes. By that time he was hot and she was panting and gasping. Her hand was like a little flame on his chest. The other one was on his back, low, with her arm around his waist.
"My God, man! Lord, that's ... listen, Ross, if you tap out on me after getting me all hotted up like this I may fix you so you won't be interested in either men or women!"
"I like it!" he said, as if that surprised him. "It's wonderful! I like your hand there, too."
"Well then, re-cip-rocate!" And she pinched his nipple.
Ross reached into her robe and groped a big swollen mass of flesh, found its nipple, and tightened thumb and forefinger on it. It doubled its size in seconds, then seemed to double that. Her head fell back and her eyes shuttered.
"Oh God ... just ... keep on ... just a little more...." She slid her hand from around his and thrust it up under her robe.
"Hey, wait...."
"Uh ... uh...."
Ross kept one hand on her nipple, rolling it between his fingers. With the other one, he reached in under her robe, shoved her own fingers aside, and suddenly lost two fingers in a seething hot cavern that grabbed him like a hand in a wet rubber glove.
"Gahhhr she gasped, jerking. "Uh ... you know about the ... uh! You know about the button?"
"Sure," he said, and twisted his fingers on her nipple as he moved his other hand up to her clitoris.
Just like that she came. She jerked, groaned, and sagged loosely.
"Oooohh, man," she sighed, rolling her eyes up to look at him hovered over her. "Oh, baby!"
"Good?"
"Good? Man, you can swing on my porch any day or night!" She turned her head a little onto one side, looking suddenly chastened. "Damn, selfish little Beejo! We didn't come up here to get my rocks off, did we?"
He nodded. "Of course we did. Ours." She couldn't understand he had an erection halfway up to his neck. At least it felt that big.
She smiled and sat up to kiss his cheek. Then she opened her robe's tie and pulled it open. A pair of big pale brown breasts came jumping out like ICBM's with homing devices. They homed on his face as she got up onto her knees on the couch and started trying to smother him in tit.
Her hands slid down under the massive love gourds of her chest and went into his robe to grab the tiny nipples of his. She began working them with both hands.
"Try it," she breathed, moving her shoulders so that one extended dark nipple trailed over his lips, you'll like it!"
He opened his mouth and took it in to try it He loved it. She had a nipple like the last joint of his little finger, minus the nail but so firm it felt as if it had a bone in it. He sucked, hard, and slithered his tongue over it.
She shuddered and went even hotter. Her fingers began pulling and pushing and squeezing his pebbly male nipples.
"Oh," she gasped, "lord! I must have the most sensitive jugs in the country-oh, that's goodl I guess that's what makes me naturally go for yours. Does this hurt?"
"Glaabulb."
She giggled. "God," she said, and leaned down until he was blind and deaf and dumb, his face covered with flowing softly firm tit flesh like great brown pillows. The nipple did its best to screw itself into his throat. He sucked until he had to breathe, then pushed her up and back off his face.
"How's that?" she asked.
"Wonderful!" He was fondling both her breasts. He'd never had such handfuls before.
"Hm. Makes me wonder ... did your mother nurse you?"
"I ... don't know. Is that important?"
She shrugged. Her breasts bounced up out of his hands. He caught them as they shuddered back down.
"I don't know," Beejo said. "I mean you say you're gay and trying to break loose, but you sure do go after girl-kissing, and nipple-sucking like a champ. Maybe your mama didn't give you enough affection and your daddy did or something like that huh?"
His hard-on was trying to tear a hole in the soft velour robe, and he liked the robe too much to have that happen.
He just couldn't go through with it. "Beejo ... I've ... got a confession to make."
"This's your first time with a black chick."
"More than that, but yes, it is."
"Me too, how about that, aren't we beautiful! Oh ... this is your first time with any chick?"
"Beejo, I've got to tell you."
She grinned and jabbed her nails into his nipples so that he groaned and winced.
"You mean like you are a totally heterosexual cat and you laid the word on John swift, not to mention rolling out from under his hand?"
He stared at her.
She grinned wider. "I may be short on experience, but I never saw a couple of gays shake hands before. He tried to make a play and you didn't go for that so you went after the first fe-male you saw."
"Oh God. You must have a computer for a brain."
"No, I've just got one hell of a yen. Now that we've got that out of the way-and congratulations, it takes a man to confess-can we get down to some balling now? You look like you're smuggling a clarinet inside your robe."
He laughed, stood, and whipped it off. "Yeah-h-hh!" she breathed, reaching for his cock. "You, man are about as homosexual as my daddy!"
"Was he a hot one?"
"Must have been. Mama talked about him a lot. Probably still does. Said she'd give up the whole ADC and her left arm if that man'd come back! You want a little mouth on this?"
"To tell you the truth, sweetheart, I just want to lose it in you."
"God, do it!"
She fell back on the couch, smiling deliciously up at him. Her hand pulled. Her body tried to hunch at him. His aching hard-on slapped her pubis, seemed to move over to find its way in, and opened her up.
She sighed and her scalloped inner lips tried to pull damply at the bulbous head of his penis.
Her cunt began to enclose him like warm oil, making his turgid tool throb and grow still more. Little sounds of delight erupted from her throat. She hunched. Her thighs were so widespread, one foot on the couch and one on the floor, that the smooth brown skin rippled with spasmodic tremors.
Then, kneeling on the couch, he pushed, hard. It went boring straight into her, all the way into the pulsing heat of her lush pussy. She was wet inside, all the way.
She pulled a pillow over, doubled it, and crammed it behind her head so she could look down their pelvises. His reddish-brown pubic hairs were entangled with her emphatically black bush. He appeared to have no cock at all, but the lips of her deeply brown vulva were stretched and distended.
"Oh, look at us!" she said, smiling. "Aren't we beautiful? Lord, you look snow-white! Pull it back some, I want to see it and watch it go into me."
He carried out that instruction with great pleasure, easing back onto his heels and pulling five or so inches of his cock out of her, slowly, It glistened slimily with her cunt juice.
"Well I'll ... it's not white at all, not even pink! Man, you've got a red cock! Lover ... do all spooks have red cocks?"
"Do all spades have brown cunts?"
"Nuh-uh. Some are black ... ahhhhhhh, yes!" She gasped out the last, as he let it coast easily back into her open pussy. The moist, clinging inner walls took every bulging inch of powerful prick he fed it.
Propped there with the big balls of her bosom heaving and rolling around on her chest, she watched him pole it in and out of her. They listened to the wet slithery slippery sounds as his cock slicked along her wet, hot, open-mouthed gap. Her gleaming body thrust itself up at him in frantic invitation and demand as he plowed steadily in and out of her in easy going, long strokes.
He reached out to clamp her nipples in his thumbs. Her eyes rolled and she shuddered. Her hands clamped on his wrists, but she was tugging, silently begging for harder pressures, rather than pushing them away. Suddenly she humped hard, twice, ramming herself up so hard his body was jarred by her surges. Then she screamed and fell back. Her head lolled loosely.
"Damn," he said. "Again?"
"Again," she gasped.
"Can you just come like that all night?"
She gave him a lecherous grin. "I know how you can find out ... but I'll bet you can't!"
"Once a king always a king-"
"-but once a knight is enough, yeah I know, lover. We'll see. You just be sure and let me know when the time comes, hmm?" She wiggled, scrooching down on the couch until she lay supine,, gazing languidly up at him. Her big breasts slid sidewise, leaning their weight on her upper arms and surging their nipples upward like acorns.
She stretched up her arms. "Come in me now, lover, and let me feel you."
He leaned forward, keeping himself inside her, and stretched atop her. She sighed in grateful acceptance of his weight. Her belly was a rounded bowl beneath his and her breasts rolled about beneath his chest.
He slipped his hands down and under to grip her naked buttocks. Holding tight to the big satiny demiglobes, he steadied her and lifted her slightly to him. At the same time, she shoved hard with the foot she had pressed on the floor. Again and again they hunched, gorging his heavy cock between her damp brown thighs and deep inside the tight wet haven of her vagina.
She rotated and glided her hips and broad ass in circular jerks that took both concentration and strength, heightening his driving orgasmic needs while she sought her own salacious satisfaction. Their pelvic bushes ground together and exchanged sweat.
She grunted in delighted gratitude for each of his pounding drives into her grasping, oozing pussy.
He began to stiffen. His balls were tight and painfully throbbing, ready to open the sluice gates of his spermatic passion. He began to quiver on the edge of climax.
"Now," he gasped, "coming...."
"Be still!" Wildly, she jammed herself up and down. One foot was pressed firmly against the floor. Her other leg, doubled and rubbing against the back of the couch, strained against it. She bobbed up and down. The wet clasping hole of her cunt whipped slipperily up and down his prick.
She grinned in delight when he stiffened and shuddered and jammed himself hard and deep. She kept pumping.
She did it. Hot semen boiled out the length of his prick into the wet, clutching depths of her straining love pocket. Damp, strongly muscled inner walls milked him thirstily dry.
And she came again, keening out high squeals and clasping him to her with all her might. He felt her breasts, great muscular masses that were being squashed and rammed all out of shape beneath his hard chest.
He reached down and pulled a handkerchief out of the pocket of his robe to catch the semen frothing out around his cock and trickling out of her. A semen stained couch might come up when he got ready to leave this place, and it could cost him the hundred dollar deposit.
"Umm, loverman, oh, yes, yeahhh!" she hummed in his ear, holding him close. "I got every drop, every drop, and I love it!"
She sighed. "Yeah. Every time. It's so easy for me ... and the one when I get a bellyful of sperm is the biggest and best." She sighed again, this time rather pensively. "Shame, too. I could go shares with someone I know. She just can't ... well." She squeezed him to her and kissed his face.
"Aren't we beautiful? Man, Archie Bunker oughtta see this," he chuckled.
"You know what?"
"What?" he asked.
"You're not muscle-bound like your dear friend John, but after the big charge blows away, you do get heavy, loverman."
"Sorry. I thought I'd blown half my guts into you."
She chuckled throatily, her body bobbing against his. "No, just the initial spasm. You'll see."
"You said that before. I feel shot."
"We'll see. Come on, loverman, take that six-hundred pound bod off me and let me taste the nice milk on your prick."
He rose from her then, and she scrambled up to do just what she'd said. Finding his handkerchief between the very tops of her thighs, she poked half of ft up into herself and clamped the end between her buttocks. Then she bent her head to his shrunken semen-glistening prick.
She glanced up at him with her mouth an inch away from its head. He felt little gusts of breath over ft with every word she spoke.
"You, uh, want to lay odds I'm not going to get this beautiful pecker back in condition to do me again?"
"You're mighty confident," he smiled.
"Hm. Think about this." She cupped his balls in her palm, tickling with all four fingers. "First it goes into my mouth." She wiggled her tongue at him. "Then I take it from behind."
He smiled. He'd like having those big shining tan cheeks turned up at him, to have and to hold while he lunged against them in a little dog-fucking.
"In the behind," she said, and already his penis started thinking about getting very hard, just as fast as possible.