Chapter 4
She was asleep when he awoke, moving lazily and warmly, and he left her there while he got ready and went to work. He thought about her a great deal, and the fact that she was black and he white-or rather, he told himself, she's brown and I'm pink. Also the fact that he was crazy about long hair but that hers was shorter than short, no more than an inch long all over her head, and that tightly curled, like a tight-fitting cap of black fleece. Also that she was big, with thick round thighs and broad ass and hips, and with a definitely soft and rounded belly punched with a deep round navel-and his generation was supposed to groove on the skinny girls you always saw doing TV commercials.
It was all strange, he thought, and he pretended to. be going over papers very thoroughly, while watching Henrietta/Hank Aldiss walking through the office. En route to get her boss a sandwich or two for lunch, he supposed. As far as Hochstadter was concerned, a secretary was a personal servant who did whatever the hell he said, and fast.
Watching her with her slimly female body and long red hair and long legs, Ross contrasted her with Beejo.
I must be nuts, he thought. I should think one of 'em's ugly. They're about as unlike as two women can get!
But he didn't. He thought they were both just beautiful. Maybe not facially beautiful as Elizabeth Taylor had taught the world to define it, but beautiful inside, beautiful in their very different forms and in their easy going confidence and liberated sexuality.
Hangups? He didn't know. True, Beejo came at the twitch of a clit, but that couldn't be called a hang-up! Oh yes, and there was the bit of strangeness about Hank: at the last minute she'd wanted to be directed, seduced, forced, treated a bit roughly. But that didn't seem to Ross Stender to be anything like a scar on her mind. Just something in her childhood or early adolescence, her first sexual experience, maybe. So what?
He looked around, and began taking notice of the other girls in the office. Julia, who always flirted with him. Easy. But ... Julia was fat, and she was a blabbermouth. Not a casual, easy going talker, like Beejo, who was so relaxed and comfortable in a sexual situation that she could talk about it and state her desires. And not just, uh, large, plump, like Beejo, either. Fat, that's what Julia was.
Or Rosemary. He hadn't seen her in awhile. They'd almost had a Thing going, once. Her problem was that she was not only Saving It, she couldn't even carry on a decent conversation. All she had going for her was a fine bod, which as far as he was concerned was very definitely not enough.
It doesn't depend on bodies, he thought.
Yeah, well, maybe I'm a little hungup or prejudiced, though ... damnit, I don't dig fat Julia! I'm not even curious enough to wonder what she'd look like naked, and I get the impression she'd get that way pretty fast for me!
The ones that want you and will, he mused, are the ones you don't want. You always want the ones who....
Don't be an asshole, he told himself. Where's that put Beejo and Hank? Then he wondered: Hey, why didn't I think Hank and Beejo?
"Ross? Got those sales figures ready?"
Ross dragged himself smoothly back to the office and the work at hand. He'd been staring at a handful of papers without seeing them at all.
"I sure have," he said, glancing sidewise at Luscher's pants leg. "I'd like to run 'em through the calculator again though, to be certain."
"Hoch wants 'em at two, on the button."
Ross glanced at his watch. "You'll have 'em in ten minutes, Leo. After that it's up to you."
Luscher patted his shoulder. "Swell, Ross, swell. Bring 'em right on in when you've checked 'em out, okay?"
"Right," Ross said, and he spent the rest of the day thinking about work rather than women.
He liked the job and better than that, the money, and better than that, the apartment in the Heston Building. And better than that, the women in the Heston Building.
Beejo wasn't there when he got home, but she certainly had been. Not only was the bed made, but the joint had been straightened up. Ross had a nice warm feeling for her, and tried to call her. She'd said she was in 306, he remembered. But she didn't answer her phone. He wondered what she did. It didn't matter. He had a fleeting thought that maybe she was a hooker, but he knew that was silly-she wouldn't have been lying there at the edge of the private pool in this building! He felt ashamed of the thought and punished himself by reading three straight company reports. That was enough to put him to sleep.
As the week moved along, he checked in with Beejo: busy Saturday night, why didn't you call sooner? And with Hank: the same. He telephoned Rosemary, who wanted to act all hurt that she hadn't heard from him for several weeks.
"How's your new apartment?"
"It's great! Want to come over and see it?"
"You're not getting me into a bachelor's apartment, Ross Stender!" Rosemary said, and the trouble was, she meant it.
So he took her out and fed her, Saturday night, and they sort of wandered, trying to think of what to do, and he took her to a nothing movie and kissed her good night at her door, wow.
That's what he thought about all the way home. Wow.
How childish that ole-time shit is, he told himself. Lord, all the formalities! Make the woman feel on top by phoning in advance for an appointment, eat on your money, go do whatever-it-is on your money, take her home. Maybe neck a little. Kiss her good night. Wow. Playing the Game.
It not only wasn't enough, after meeting Women rather than girls and gaining a little experience, but it was just stupid. Childish.
Daring's probably dead, he told himself. Killed by TV, and the pill, and education, and even Steinem.
He and a couple of beers and one of the unread books Mason had left, along with Ross' right hand, put him to sleep.
Next afternoon he tried to call Hank and got a busy signal. Dumb, he told himself. Christ, she's just down the hall!
He went down the hall, started to knock, then thought that if she were on the phone, it would be a shame to interrupt her. But he had already touched the door. It was ajar. With the faintest of clicks, it swung slowly inward. He wasn't peeping or anything, not really, but after all he couldn't help looking in.
He squinted. The drapes were pulled. The bed was still down. No one was talking on the telephone. And there was someone in the bed....
There were two someones in the bed, or on it. He stared.
"Well, m be damned and double-damned! he thought.
The two bodies on the bed belonged to "his" women. Hank, very pale against the larger body she was entwined with. Beejo, darker than she was, because of the room's dimness and the contrast with the other woman.
He succumbed to a wicked, ignoble impulse. If he hadn't, he'd have kicked himself forever.
He slipped through the door and closed it as silently as he could. Then he eased over behind the big chair and sort of crouched, so that only his head and shoulders were visible above the chair. What little light there was in the room, filtering in at the edge of the drapes, fell on the coupled girls. Even if they look up, he thought, they're not likely to see me.
And if they do ... so what! I'll say "Hi."
So he watched.
They were merely kissing, now, both of them naked, with their arms around each other and their bodies rubbing.
Then: "Oh, Beejo, that was lovely!" Hank's voice.
Beejo just made a throaty noise of agreement and rubbed the other girl's naked bottom. Ross watched it stir, tighten, press into the dark hands.
"Beejo ... ummm ... so nice ... Beejo ... do it again!"
Beejo chuckled. Ross thought of those big tawny tits heaving and rubbing against Hank's breasts. It was a nice thought, although he'd rather have had either rubbing against him.
"Everything?"
"Would you, Beejo? I'll ... be very nice, after."
Beejo lifted one hand and slapped the other girl's buttock, again chuckling. Ross noted that Hank's jerking movements was almost a convulsion. She burrowed against her Lesbian lover.
"Okay," she said, "you get up and go in the bathroom. I'll call you."
Hank started squirming, and Ross squatted swiftly. He didn't even hear her footfalls as she went into the bathroom. But he did hear the water run, briefly. Then Beejo's voice called out, very sternly.
"Henrietta! You brattish girl-get your tail in here immediately!"
Ross raised his eyebrows. They were maybe putting on a play?
He peeped out and around the side of the chair. Here came Hank, tits joggling, walking out of the bathroom. Her head was down and she was holding a towel in front of her pelvis; otherwise she was naked.
Beejo sat on the edge of the bed, in profile to Ross. Good, he thought, watching her slap her thigh. "Right here, Miss!" she snapped. "I ... I ... I'm sorry, Beejo."
"BEEJO! What the hell you mean, calling me that, you little brat! My name's Leona, and see that you don't forget it. Now drop that towel, Miss, and show your shame! I know you've been playing with yourself again!"
"Please...." Hank whimpered, in a tiny voice. "Henrietta Aldiss!"
Quivering, sniffling like a child, Hank dropped the towel. For a moment she covered her pubes with her hands, then put them behind her back. Standing there with her head down, she looked small and naked and defenseless, very submissive. Ross licked his lips.
"All right now. Get yourself across my thighs right now, little girl, and turn your naughty bottom up to be whipped!"
"Oh, please, Leona ... don't hurt me ... not too many...."
Beejo/Leona reached around and slapped the standing girl's bottom. Hank squealed and jerked forward away from the sharply smacking hand.
Then, while Ross stared with slitted eyes and rising inner excitement, the girl stepped up beside Leona's thighs, with her back to him. Slowly, she bent forward. He was staring at her naked, upturned bottom. It was very pretty, just as he remembered it, pink and nicely cloven and round, firm-looking of cheek. He knew those pads of flesh were just as firm as they looked, too.
"First," Beejo said, running her hand up and down the girl's upturned buttocks and down onto her thigh and up again. "First, just a little warm up."
"Oh ... oh, Leona ... don't ... don't hit me too hard ... "
Ross stood slowly so that he could again peer over the top of the big chair He had a perfect view of Beejo, seated on the edge of the bed, her big bumcheeks spread and flattened by the pressure of her body. Her breasts ran down and out before her, bobbing. Hank lay across her thighs, facing away from Ross, so that he was staring straight at the jutting pinkness of her lissome ass and the long glorious cleavage between the two close-pressed mounds.
Beejo started swatting them.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap ... rapid up-and-down movements of her hand, five times on the left buttock and then three on the right and two on the left and five on the right and five more on the left and ten straight right across the crack, catching both cheeks, which were straining together against the steady tapping. It was far from a serious slapping, Ross realized, even as he silently kept track of the taps.
By the time Beejo had finished that warm up, though, he could see that Hank's ass had taken on a deeper pink glow and the lovely rounded demiglobes were quivering and straining together. Hank whimpered steadily, though she had not cried out. There had been no reason. She hadn't been hit hard. First, just a little warm up....
Wow, Ross thought, Beejo meant that!
Her arm swung up. It swung high, and it came down fast and hard. The noise the splayed palm made when it intersected the other girl's butt was loud in the silent, dim room.
"YOWWWCH!" Hank cried out. She lunged forward at the impact of hand on cheek. But Beejo's other hand, planted firmly in the small of the girl's back, held her firmly in place across her thighs.
Even in the dimness, Ross could see that naked ass tightening fearfully.
"Bare-handed whipping isn't much," Beejo said. "But I'll try to let you feel them, little miss!"
"Oh, oh please, Leona," Hank said, and her voice was distinctly different, like a younger girl's, "don't hurt my poor rumpus too much."
"Hush, child," Beejo said gruffly, and she began administering the punishment. "Count them off, girl, you wouldn't want to get too many!"
"OWWW! T-two! Oh Leona ... yowchhhhhr She made a sobbing sound. "Three!"
The girl kicked and jerked wildly, but her stern spanker pinned her helplessly into enforced submission. The pretty bottom tensed as she raised her hand again, then jumped when the blow landed directly on the rounded left cheek.
"Uh! Four!"
Then she had to count fast, as "Leona" gave the jerking bobbing bottom a series of rapid-fire slaps, all on the precise summit of one cheek. Ross listened, and watched, and it was exciting., Beejo's palm fell with a sound like a leather strap. The girl across her large naked thighs quivered and jerked and squealed and whimpered out the blow-count. The hard slaps left livid marks across the soft, creamy ovals. They quivered with convulsive little tremors, and Ross was sure they felt afire.
More slaps, the hand descending sharply on to the quivering, now-reddened cheeks of that mortified ass. More squeals, and now Hank was steadily sobbing.
And she asked for this, Ross thought. She practically begged for it! She really likes it!
Suddenly he grinned. Hey ... I'll bet ole Beejo's enjoying it, too!
And so would he....
He watched. Hank's naked, doubtless burning haunches jumped and tensed and quivered. Beejo's arm rose up and down. Her breasts jumped wildly, flipping and flopping about, and she was leaking perspiration from under her spanking arm.
Again her hand cracked down onto the swollen, reddened ass, making it sting and quiver.
"Oh-aa-owwWWW! Twen-twenty-thre-e-e-e-eeel Oh Le-ONA!"
"Uh-huh" I said.
SMACK
"YOW! ... Twe'y-four! Yaaowch-uh! Twenny-four
Ross stood there watching, wearing an avid expression and wide eyes-and a hard-on. All he could see was the superb trembling haunches that so obediently offered themselves, and now, he thought, they were all red and hurting, maybe bruised. He wondered. Would there be bruises tomorrow? Little marks?
Now it was time for the final slap. Hank was weeping steadily, without control, with little hiccupping gasps. She lay there, held firmly in place, twisting her helpless bottom about in nervous apprehension and pain. It was a deep, glowing red.
Beejo arched and cranked her arm as she swung. That way the flat-held palm slapped just at the very base of both cheeks, slapping straight in rather than down. The smack was very loud. Ross grinned; he saw Beejo wince, then shake her hand. Hank, knocked nearly off her whipper's thighs with the force and angle of the blow, screamed.
But now Beejo was spitting in her hands and laving the other woman's burning butt with them, stroking softly and smoothly.
"Oh, Leona ... hurts!"
"Uh-hm. Are you going to be a good little girl, now?"
"Oh yes, Leona, I promise!"
"And are we going to tell mommy and daddy about this and maybe get another spanking from them?"
"Oh no, no, Leona, please don't ... I won't tell, really I won't, Leona!"
"All right, " Beejo said, still smoothing her hands over the girl's chastised cheeks, assuaging their burning sting with a slippery film of her own saliva. "And what will my sweet girl do for Leona, then?"
"I ... m lick you, Leona darling. Would you let me lick your pussy, Leona, would you? And ... and you can play with me. It'll be so fun," Hank said, her voice and words still imitating herself when she'd been younger. "Won't it, Leona?"
"Yes-s-s, baby. And Leona won't tell. Come now, hop up and start licking your Leona."
Wow, Ross thought. Hank's parents used to have a maid, maybe, or else she had a sister-Leona. Maybe it was a black maid, hmm? And they were gone a lot, the parents. So Leona punished the girl-and then they played Lesbian games. She got the girl to lick her-that bitch, Leona! So ... Hank's imprinted. Sex means whipping and whipping means sex!
Damnit, he thought, why didn't she tell me? I'd have been glad to smack that sexy ass of hers!
He stood there and watched. Hell, he mused, I'd have been glad to let her do that, too.
Beejo had opened her thighs wide, her hips twitching and trembling, beckoning. Kneeling between her spread legs, the other girl caressed them. Then she fitted her mouth to the burning lips of the bigger woman's moist slit and began to eat her.
Ross' groin tightened up and his penis throbbed painfully against his briefs. He could hear more than he could see, now: soft kissing and slurping sounds.
But he could imagine the little details he wasn't actually seeing.
Again and again the kneeling white girl dipped her tongue into the hot trove of her friend's treasure, until the black girl's eyes filmed over with passion and she began to hunch her cunt to the other's face.
Ross could see Beejo's hands going down, playing with Hank's tits. The kneeling woman trembled and sighed and tongued that hot, slippery, dribbling black cunt. Beejo groaned and shuddered. Her big breasts seemed trying to jump free of her chest. Her slick inner juice was aflow, wetting the lips and the curly black tendrils of her pubic fur.
Her thighs quivered and jerked, lowering, then raising her knees again to rub her cheeks and try to pull the beloved mouth forward still more, seeking the hot wet drive of her tongue into her sliming depths.
Ross stood there and stared in excited fascination. This was one of the most arousing scenes he'd ever even thought of seeing. He knew that he had to get his cock into one of them, sooner or later tonight. Tonight? he thought, remembering. Hell, this is Sunday, and it's not even four in the afternoon yet!
The girl so submissively on her knees sent her tongue flicking between the other's slightly parted lips. Pink tongue, jabbing in and out between black-furred, deeply brown pussy lips.
"God," Beejo gasped, bending forward and sliding her hands into Hank's armpits. "That's all of that I can stand ... come up here and let me taste you a bit too, darling."
She pulled Hank up onto the bed. They flopped, and then Ross was treated to the sound of bobbing butts and gaping ass cheeks, winking cracks and swinging, jiggling tits as the two women crawled around to get into the old sixty-nine position.
Each set her tongue against the soft-lipped pussy opening and pressed it slickly inside. Pink lips kissed black. Black lips kissed pink labia.
Each began wiggling her tongue and stabbing it in and out until both were writhing in ecstasy. Seeing the humping tightening jerks of their springy rump cheeks, Ross knew that each was swirling her tongue around and around the strong little clitoral bud of the other's vulva.
They squeezed and pressed each other's beautiful twitching, juddering buttocks. Their fingers slipped teasingly into the sweaty cracks between those shivering cheeks. Fingers leaped to squeeze and lovingly press swollen breasts and tweak their nipples. Wet warm mouths sucked warm wet cunts. Tongues speared, wiggling, twitching over twitching clits. They groaned and writhed in the helpless throes of sexuality....
And then of coming. Hank let out a violent loud yell that made Ross jerk so he was afraid he'd made enough noise to be discovered.
Her tongue rammed onto the dark clitoris before her face and her finger speared into a wet, accepting asshole and her fingers clamped on a swollen nipple as she came, jerking.
And so did Beejo, instantly.
Jesus, Ross thought.
They drifted apart, flopping on the violently rumpled bed with flopping tits and gaping, gasping mouths. They lay there a long long while, streaming perspiration and sighing. Ross was helplessly stroking his cock through his pants.
Now's the time, he thought, for a cruel and crude interruption. Get ready, my darling Lesbian lovers, here comes cock!
"Oh god, Beejo, oh god damn, it's so damned goo-ood!"
"Yeah," Beejo sighed, but somehow she sounded a little tight, rather than loose with orgasm.
"Oh, poor Beejo," Hank sighed, scrambling onto her side to grope the other woman. "My poor darling sweet Beejo-you just can't, can you?"
Ross had already started for the light switch, edging along in the dimness. First he'd snap the light on, then he'd....
"No," Beejo said. "Damnit, I'm sorry. I ... I gotta go, honey. I've got to. Lord, I need ... I've got to have cock!"
Hank giggled. "Wouldn't it be nice!"
"You too?" Beejo asked, stroking Hank's hip.
Ross froze.
Hank sighed. "Not really. I've ... I've never come with a man yet. Damnit! I always have to pretend ... oh it's good, I like it, I'm afraid I just can't be a Lesbian ... but ... I can't. I haven't.
"Poor baby," Beejo said. She stroked the other woman awhile. Then, "Well, damnit, it isn't as if we were lezzes and you'll be jealous, or anything. I'm sorry, honey, I gotta go get some. I need a piece of man ... and I know where there's some beautiful cock, and it's closer.
Grinning, Ross thumped the door and flicked on the overhead light. It wasn't quite as dramatic as it might have been; the light was very dim, and it was colored, a pale orange glow that they should've had on the whole time.
"Will this one do?" he called, waving a lot of hard thick redheaded prong before four staring, horrified eyes.