Chapter 7
I was celebrating my first breakfast and just topping it off with a third cup of coffee when Janet exploded into the room. Dan was having breakfast too. There wasn't much of her to be angry, but she was using every possible inch to quiver with. Hands on her hips and feet spread, she glared at me.
The phone just rang," she said. "You ought to be interested, Patti It was the police, and they've got a man in jail. They found the address of Hope House in his pocket"
Dan stood up. "Is it Johnny?"
"Damned right it's Johnny!" Janet shouted. "Drunk and disorderly and assault Dan, Dan-why did you leave her alone with him? You know how he is, so how could you let this bitch get her hooks in him and screw up a sweet guy like that?"
"Easy does it, Janet," Dan said, walking toward her. "Easy, now; nobody got Johnny drunk but himself."
She aimed a trembling finger at me. "Patti helped; she pushed him into it Tell me, Patti was he a good lay? Did he thrill you? Tell me, dammit-was it worth Johnny being scared and drunk and all alone? Was a quick fuck worth all that?"
"No," I said, "it wasn't worth that. Nothing is. What can I do, Janet Dan? What can I do?"
Janet choked over her answer. "Nothing. Patti. Can you make Johnny sober, just like mat? Can you put back his faith in himself? No, Patti-there's nothing you can do now. You've done it all"
In my room, I felt very small and alone. Being alone wasn't new, but feeling guilty was. How the hell could I know that a quick screwing would send Johnny off on a drunk?
It was time I fled this scene; food was staying down, and vitamins, and drying out had given me a good part of my strength back. I had to go-where? It didn't matter. I had never known where I was going, anyhow. So long as I continued running, I wouldn't have time to hurt people. It was when I stopped that my actions began to corrode other lives.
As Will Landson's life had been eaten away by me.
All that first night, we drank and we made love, deeply and gently, exploring each other's bodies with great care. I forgot my legal husband somewhere in another room, in another woman's bed, but Harry didn't forget me. Hung over, he banged on the door next morning until I let him in, and we went through some cloudy reasoning about how he didn't want me too wrapped up in one man.
But I didn't give a damn what Harry Tanis wanted. I knew what I wanted, and it wasn't my husband, nor the increasingly screwed up pace of the sex club. Now I wanted Will Landson, and I got him. I was twenty-one years old and my lover was fifty-five, but I worshipped that man and peeled the years from him like skin from an orange, revealing the sweet meat within.
Harry acted up when I filed for divorce, but Will was smart and sensible, and there was really nothing Harry could do. He'd soon find another hot little piece of mate trading material. After Will sold his business and split the proceeds with his ex-wife, we left for the coast and a new start
I never failed to get goose pimples when my new husband put his hands on me. He could turn me on like no other man, and I guess I screwed away his newfound youth in a hurry. But it was a funny thing, I always felt a little guilty about Will, as if I was doing something completely wrong, so I always took four or five stiff drinks before laying him. They made me feel better.
Will still clung to his fixation about anal fucking, and I didn't discourage him. But I moved him along to all the other things, catching him by surprise in his new office and locking the door so we could screw on the floor; going down on him while he was driving the car; fucking him in the shower. I used the poor guy too much.
I remember the afternoon he came home from his office, where he was working hard to get reestablished, and I had been hitting the bottle all day, working myself up to a special screwing. I had on this blue silk dressing gown and high heeled pumps, and my hair hung loosely down my back. I was perfumed and freshly bathed, and this urgent need was trembling in my thighs, turning my pussy damp just thinking about things.
That bitch in the blue silk robe! Oh, I remembered her, all right. She was small and cute and her ass jiggled sexily as she walked, and her tits were high, firm and round nippled. She moved into the house as if she owned it, and I could hear her panting at night, and saying terrible things to him when she thought I was asleep and wouldn't hear them. Sure I remember her. How could I forget that sensuous, hungry little bitch?
With nearly a fifth of bourbon warming my belly and racing in my veins, I practiced the way she walked and held my tits high, and when Will came into the apartment, I met him at the door, pushing my belly against his and lifting my lips for a kiss he hadn't meant to be so torrid. The poor guy didn't even get his dinner before I led him to the bedroom and started pulling off his clothes.
When I was smashed, I wanted him all the time, craved the touch of his prick and the feel of his pale skin against my own, but when I was sober, something nagged at me, insisting that this couldn't be right, and I always had to drown that voice of conscience with more liquor.
Will was tired, but he could always be thrilled by sex with me, as if he was turning back the clock and playing the young, horny stud again. I got him on the bed and soon his beautiful prick was rising, stiffening, its head turning a deep pink. For some time, we had been catering to his own desires, doing it anally and straight, but now it was my turn, and I went at him like a hungry tigress.
Using a skin cream, I rubbed his body from head to foot with the slippery, fragrant stuff, drawing my fingers lingeringly over his tense flesh, rubbing the nipples of his chest and caressing his belly with greasy palms. By the time I got to his crotch, there was a clear droplet of pre-seminal fluid standing on the tip of his cock, and he was trembling with eagerness.
I was naked, too, and lay down on top of him to rub the hard nipples of my breasts over him, beginning with his face and working down over his rib cage, then across his belly, fondling the aching tips into his pubic hair, that silver hair that never failed to mesmerize me.
Sliding down his slippery thighs, I parted them and pushed my breasts around his upright prick, massaging them up and down that rigid shaft and over the sticky head. I wanted to do everything for this sweet man, be everything to him, bring him to sharp and ecstatic climaxes such as he had never known before.
I kissed his cockhead and drew my tongue lightly over it, making him flinch, making the muscles of his spread thighs go tight. Raking my hot, wet tongue around the flanged glans, I licked down the shaft and into his balls, then pulled them one by one into my mouth to suck gently upon them. Will was squirming by then, wanting me to go on, but afraid to have me follow through, but I was beyond caring for his sensitive feelings.
Burrowing my tongue into his crotch, I worked it up to the tight little hole and shoved it inside, my teeth raking his soft flesh between scrotum and anus. My husband almost went crazy; he heaved and groaned, and his heels beat a slow tattoo upon the mattress. He couldn't stand that long without blowing off, I thought, so I licked back up over his balls and back up over his throbbing pole, then suddenly took the head into my mouth.
I chewed tenderly upon it, tasting its marvelous flavor, opening the little mouth with my tongue tip so that I could draw in the slippery fluid gathering there. It was so sweet, so good, and my tongue went wild, searching feverishly over his glans as I pulled his cock far up into my mouth, sliding it over the roof of my mouth and along the hot caress of my dipped-in cheeks until the knob brushed against the back of my throat
"B-baby," he groaned, "Oh baby-don't do that You-you'll make me come in your mouth. Baby, please-"
I loved him to call me baby; it was different than when other men said it. It was possessive and tender and loving. I was his baby.
Panting around his prick, I caressed his balls with one hand and slid the palm of the other one sensuously back and forth across his tensed belly, made slippery by the skin cream. Slowly, I bobbed my head up and down, simulating the action of a vagina around his pulsing cock, fondling the head with a deft tongue. I was so glad I had learned how to give really great head, so happy to be able to thrill this beautiful man so much.
Will tried desperately to pull his cock from my mouth, but I bit down on it, and sucked so hard that he couldn't get it free, so with a great, heaving sigh, he gave up. The spongy head of his prick seemed to vibrate, then it shot forth a bubbling roar of rich semen, a creamy flood of boiling spray mat spattered my throat and ruled my eager mourn. I sucked it all down, swallowing and gulping, while his hands were on my head and he hunched half erect in the convulsive spasming of his tremendous orgasm
The poor guy was shaken to his core by what I had done, by the way I had devoured his prick and downed his semen. He was drawn into a psychic whirlpool where each and every one of his moral values were being changed, and he had no way of resisting, no way of making me stop.
Blazing with lust, I kissed my way up his belly and over his chest pausing to lick his nipples before reaching up to his mouth. For a long, shocked moment, Will resisted kissing me, but I forced my mouth to his and drove my tongue between his lips, making him know the flavor of his own come.
Then I sat up and spread my legs, hunching my pulsing mound and slipping my knees up beside his heaving chest to snug them close. Staring down at my husband's pale, lined face, I felt no mercy, only a searing excitement at his helplessness and a sense of triumph at my .complete mastery of him.
"Daddy," I said softly, "now you're going to eat your baby's cunt. You're going to take my pussy in your mouth and feel around inside it with your lovely tongue."
His eyes fluttered open. "Baby-I don't know how, I never-"
"It's easy," I said. "I'll show you how, daddy, m teach you to become the best cunt eater in the world."
Coming up on my knees, I balanced my crotch over his face and moved up so that Will's head was imprisoned by my lower thighs, and I locked it there with my hands, pressing down upon his forehead.
"You'll like it, daddy," I promised. "You'll like getting your mouth inside your baby's pussy."
I lowered my crotch, brought it slowly and inexorably down until my pubic hairs were brushing against his nose and half-open mouth, against his chin. I watched his eyes as my cunt pressed down upon his mouth to cover it with humid flesh, and they were shocked.
Rotating my ass, I fed my pussy into Will's mouth, grinding it deep so that he had to open his lips, and I told him in detail how to use his tongue, that I wanted it pushed way up inside my wet vagina, that I wanted him to feel the lining all over with it Meekly, he obeyed, and slowly, his hands crept up to fondle the cheeks of my ass, to stroke along the sleek strength of my spread thighs. That man loved me.
Pumping sensuously upon his mouth. I guided his tongue up until it played beneath the clitoral hood and found the erect nubbin there. That's the spot," I gasped. "Oh daddy, daddy-that's the place. Tease it with your tongue, darling-tickle it crazy. Suck it into your teeth, daddy-suck my clit and chew on it!"
Will got into the spirit of it then, with my cunt juices in his mouth and their scented oils turning his cheeks and chin greasy, he ate into my churning pussy. I fucked his dear face, pumping my crotch all over his face and making him thrill the cunt that was going insane with the marvelous intimacy of this act.
"Ooohh, daddy, daddy! You're eating your baby's cunt, licking up into my pussy and loving it-daddy darling-you love me, love me, and I'm coming, daddy-I-am-coming!"
The crazy feeling broke from the center of my thrumming clit and went flashing out through my flexing cunt, leaping from nerve to nerve in bright tongues of flame, lancing up into my belly and down to my asshole.
But still, that wasn't enough. There was no way I could get enough of this tender, fantastic man, so when the backwash of my gratifying orgasm faded within my pussy, I lifted it dripping from his panting mouth and rubbed it back down over his chest When the cheeks of my ass touched his cock, I realized that he was stiff again, stimulated by his first oral love-giving, and I wiggled around until I could get my fingers around that beloved prick.
Inserting it into the searing, greasy lips of my snatch, I squirmed it up into my body, adoring the sensation of the hard meat as it slid thrillingly into my avid vagina. Taking his head in my hands, I lifted him so that he could suck on my nipple, feeding it to him as if he was a starving baby. The turnabout shook me, made dark forces swirl within me, for now I was the mama and he was the child, and my ass pumped up and down, around and around, forcing his rigid pole to rotate within the velvet clasp of my cunt
For a long time, I fucked Will that way, getting my orgasm twice more, while the poor guy was still straining to rebuild the pressure within his balls. I didn't give a damn that he was being overworked; I knew only that I craved to fuck him and fuck him, to show him how much better I was than any pussy he had ever known or ever would discover. He was my daddy, my daddy, and the bitch in the blue silk dressing gown would never steal him away from me again.
Seesawing on his prick, riding him like a jockey flogs a horse to the finish line, I screwed him in a jealous frenzy, banging my pelvis violently against his, corkscrewing my. ass and pounding his crotch with fierce little bumps.
At last Will came, but with a weakened spurting of semen that only showered a few drops into my ravenous cunt I came with him, biting my lips and moaning, shaking my ass and forcing my nipple into his gasping mouth before letting his bead fall back upon the pillow. We were both covered with sweat and I thought that
Will's face looked gray, but it could have been the light in the bedroom, no more.
When he had showered, I had dinner waiting for him, but I was too interested in my bottle to eat much, and shrugged off his mild protests. I didn't even let him alone that night; high and horny, I backed my ass into him and let him play the game that was most satisfying to him. And after we came again, I got up and went into the kitchen to polish off the bottle.
I loved Will in every sense of the word, but there was this fretting inside me, the blind insistence that something was wrong. Thousands of girls had married men much older than themselves, but they weren't so fucked up about it, were they?
Patiently, Will worked at stopping my drinking, and I tried. I did without liquor for days on end, stalking the bedroom and trying to stay straight. But when he came home, I couldn't work myself up to sex with him. I think he was happy, those nights. The guy was overworked, trying to build the new business, trying to keep pace with my sexual needs. I was still screwed up, because sober, I couldn't swing with my husband, and when I was drunk, I damned near devoured him.
The unequal struggle went on for almost a year. Will called doctors in, and when their drugs didn't work on me, they in turn called in shrinks. In the end, though, it all boiled down to a battle of bodies and minds, between my bus-band and me.
He couldn't win. I was young and strong, with a thousand sins behind me and a million more still ahead. He was old and tired, and When he realized that he was losing, he couldn't face that kind of defeat, no more than he could remind himself of his wife Elizabeth and their two sons-both older than me-nor of the life it had taken him decades to build and me only a few short months to destroy.
Will Landson died.
The doctors called it a bad heart, and said learned things about strain and overwork, but I had another name for what had happened to gentle, patient Will Landson.
I called it murder.
Because I had killed him, as surely as if I'd run over him with a car. I had worried him sick over my lengthening alcoholic binges and shamed him when I fucked him down to a panting, drained shell of what he had once been. If it hadn't been for me, he would have still been back east, rocking along in his old business, perhaps a little frustrated, but alive.
So I did what every murderer does, I ran away. Oh, I waited to collect money from Will's estate, to make the lawyers liquidate the business, but then I ran-fast and far.
I hid in plush hotels where men were always around to console a lonely young widow. I woke up in motels and beard jokes about the hot piece of ass in room so-and-so. I always saw myself in the mirrors, so I just kept running.