Chapter 10

I THINK THE GREATEST EXPERIENCES WERE THE parties I went to, where people really lived! I told Dr. Wellington about some of them, but I kept some to myself.

The one I liked best and kept to myself, until I started writing this diary thing, was in a penthouse overlooking the city. Everybody could let loose and have a good time because the penthouse was not on an apartment building. It was over an office building where everybody went home nights and week-ends, so no squares living close by could be disturbed and call the cops.

The funny thing was, I didn't know whose penthouse it was, or even who gave the party.

I saw him when we got there, a little fat man with a red nose that showed he'd drunk too much for a long time.

I went with a guy I met on my second job, a very sharp salesman. The job was running an elevator in a building in the garment district.

From the first moment he got into the elevator, all he saw were my boobs. He stood close to me and smiled, and I lost all the riders but him when we got to the tenth floor.

We were alone after that and he wanted to go to the thirty-first; I went fairly slow. He said a few things I don't remember and I said a few things back, and then he got off.

But an hour later I saw him again, and he grinned and said, "I waited for three elevators to get yours."

I smiled back and said, "You must not have very much to do."

"Oh, I've got plenty to do, but riding with you is worth waiting for."

"It's a pretty short ride."

"I know, but there's time to ask you to have a drink with me after you get off."

"I'm not sure. I might be busy."

"A boy friend?"

"Uh-huh."

Which was a lie because I didn't have a date, bat you should never appear too eager. Sometimes that scares them off.

"Well, if he doesn't show up, why not come to the Trader's Bar when you're finished?"

"I'm through at five-thirty."

"I'll be there," he said. "And I hope you will be too."

I went over to the Trader's Bar after work but only for kicks. I didn't really know whether I'd stay. I thought I might just look in as though hunting for a friend and then duck out.

But he was there at the bar, waiting with one eye on the door; and I never had a chance. He took ten quick strides and had me by the arm, grinning and showing his nice white teeth. He wasn't going to let my boobs get away.

"I hoped you'd come."

"Well, I'll just have a quick one," I said. "I've got to meet a friend."

"That's a shame."

We had two drinks. His name was Ed Brack and he was from Omaha, in town alone and he needed cheering up. That was what he said, but he looked fairly cheerful from the start.

I had on a loose-colored blouse and a bra that cut my boobs just above the nipples, and I'd pulled it down so that a little of the brown showed. His eyes kept going there.

Another thing, I had a suit on with a short jacket, and when I raised my arms he could see under them.

Underarms are sexy to some guys, and I could see that Ed was crazy about them.

Every time I raised my arm to show him, he took a big breath and his smile deepened. Then, when I lowered my arms, his eyes went back to my boobs.

I said, "You don't seem to be very interested in a girl's face."

"Oh, but I am. I'm interested in every part of you. What I can see and what I can't."

We kicked it back and forth a while, and then he asked me to dinner. I didn't say anything more about having a date and he didn't mention it either.

He said, "I need a shave before dinner. I couldn't go into a restaurant with a beautiful girl like you in this condition. We'll stop off at my hotel on the way, if you don't mind."

I didn't mind at all. He had a room in a hotel nearby, and he had more drinks sent up while he was shaving.

That was when he asked me to go to the party.

"It's a little affair at the home of a friend of a friend of mine. I think you'd get a kick out of k."

"I really don't think I ought to —"

I was sitting on the lounge, and he went around behind it, bent over and put his hands on my shoulders. Then he slid them under my blouse and over my boobs.

"You've got a date with me tonight, honey."

I laughed. "Well — "

His mouth was close to my ear. He said, "You've been driving me nuts with those ever since we met. I deserve something."

He'd pushed the bra down and my boobs pushed out into his hands. "God! They're wonderful." he whispered.

His head went down past mine, and I thought maybe I did owe the poor guy something, so I pushed up, lifting my rear off the lounge so he could reach them with his mouth.

His lips closed over the closest one, and his fingers were kneading deep into the other. He found the nipple and rolled it between his thumb and finger while he pulled the other one, along with a lot of boob, into his mouth and worried it with his tongue.

I felt fire. It was the drinks probably, but my knees were turning to water again.

His other hand, the one he wasn't doing anything with, reached in under my arm and began caressing. Just the tips of his fingers.

"You've got a thing about armpits, haven't you?" I laughed.

"I've got a thing about you, baby."

He lifted my arm, twisted his head and left the boob, went for the arm. I felt his tongue. It tickled until I could hardly keep my feet on the floor.

It was around this point that a new experience came my way, or started to. It sneaked up on me in a way. My skirt was already way up on my thighs, and he reached down with the hand that had been teasing my nipple and pulled it higher.

While he did all this, his head was right beside mine, bending over the way he was, and I could smell him and the smell was intoxicating, even more than the drinks I'd had.

Getting a little more excited, he reached clear over and slipped his hands under my knees and began lifting.

"Wait a minute, Ed — "

Easy, honey, easy," he crooned, and began doubling me over until I was on my shoulders looking straight up into his face.

My skirt had skinned down off my rear, and my transparent panties were tight over my exposed buttocks, pink with the dark line.

I don't think he had anything in mind. He was just fooling around, but something hit me. An urge. A new need. Or maybe an old need I'd never been able to put into words.

Anyhow, scrunched down there so I could hardly breathe, with my rear sticking up, I said, "Whack it," hardly aware that it was my voice saying it.

He was surprised. "Huh?"

"Whack it, Ed."

I could hardly breathe, but it didn't seem to bother me. I was all tensed up, trapped and helpless, and the feeling was fantastic.

He grinned and patted my rear lightly.

"Like that?"

"Harder."

He tapped it a little harder, still grinning.

"Hows that?"

I was angry with him for being so stupid. He had me where any man would have wanted me. Locked in with my rear sticking up there and the panties stretched tight over it. What more did he want?

"Whack it, damn you!"

He began to understand. The grin faded and he lifted his hand and came down with a smack that cracked like a pistol.

I closed my eyes and kicked my legs but in a way that wouldn't kick them loose.

Another whack, his palm cracking against my taut rear as though a second shot had been fired.

He whacked me three more times, and I screamed.

But by then he really had the idea and it excited him. His face turned grim and his lips twisted in a new kind of eagerness, the kind I'd imagined and dreamed about but never actually seen on a man's face.

Then he let go of me and came around the lounge. He got there before I could even begin to get my legs down and grabbed them again.

I began to get scared now, from the look on his face. Maybe he was dangerous. Maybe he would kill me.

"No — "

But he didn't hear me. He jerked me down off the lounge onto the floor, and I might have been hurt if the carpet hadn't been fairly thick.

Then he dragged me by my ankles to the middle of the room and doubled me over again.

But this time he had more leverage. He was down on his knees, one knee on each side of my head, and he had my legs pulled back and an ankle under each arms, holding them where he wanted them with his armpits, my ankles tucked in up there.

My skirt had been pulled way up from the dragging, and when he pulled my legs back my panties came so tight they were splitting me.

"No—"

Whack.

Square on my taut rump. I screamed.

But he'd prepared for that. Pressing down, his body over my face formed a gag and I was screaming against him, but it was muffled. Only my hot breath going through the cloth against him.

Then, his breath coming in rasps, he went to work.

Whack — whack — whack — I fought and clawed the carpet on either side of me. Then I clawed at him, and I don't know whether his belt buckle had been loose or whether it broke. I kept on clawing, trying to get at his bare skin to claw it, and pretty soon his trousers and his shorts were loose cloth coming down from my clawing.

He'd lifted himself a little to get a better leverage for his whacks, and his clothes came away.

They'd all bunched up in my mouth and over my face, but now they were gone and my nails were cut-into his naked buttocks.

Then my panties snapped where they were cutting into me, and he had a bare surface too.

His spanking became a frenzy and so did my clawing as we fought each other. A rapid fire of pistol cracks. Then, exhausted, he fell forward on his knees. I felt his hot breath.

The excitement whirled through me like a savage torrent. A crazy, reckless feeling that my body had vanished, only the sensations remained.

We were comparatively quiet now, but our positions hadn't changed much.

I heard him making noises like an animal and the great passion came hunting for me again. And found me.

I was afloat in the great void with electric thoughts, and the ecstatic sense of life and vitality in its vastness.

We were smothering each other. My hands were pushing on the back of his head and his weight was on me brutally, his weight the mark of his demanding.

My teeth, but he didn't feel them. My frantic, demanding rage, but his own overpowered it.

We both stiffened and screamed at the same moment. A scream from me because the unbearable was there and a mixture of moan and bellow from him, the merged sounds of ecstasy.

The aftermath was unchanged. Always that way.

Exhaustion. He fell over, still doubled up, and I fell on my side, facing him and we stayed that way looking into each other's faces like two people doubled on the floor with a cramp.

He spoke first. He gasped, "Up, baby, on your feet. We've got to go to a party."

I giggled. "I thought I've just had a party."

His grin was weak, and there was awe in his face as he looked at me.

"God! You're a bomb. A living bomb. You destroyed me."

"You didn't do so bad yourself."

I was being very gay, but for some crazy reason I wanted to cry. I wanted to crawl into his arms and have him hold me and cry on him.

He said, "God! And four hours ago we didn't even know each other."

I could laugh now. The giggling stage had passed.

"Maybe we ought to have a drink on that."

He was on his knees, getting up, and he rolled me over on my back and kissed me. It felt good, and I let him finish. When he'd kissed enough he let me put my legs down and get to my feet.

I dropped down on the lounge and said, "I heard something about dinner. Or are you the kind of guy who wears a girl out and then refuses to feed her?"

"You mean you still want dinner?" he asked with a great show of mock surprise.

"You louse!" And I threw a pillow at him.

He laughed, picked up the phone and had a menu sent up.

After we'd ordered dinner and sat there waiting for it, he said, "You wanted me to spank you. Why?"

I could have gotten mad when he asked that, but I wasn't in a bad mood. Everything seemed right with the world. And I saw no reason for not being frank.

I said, "Maybe I did, but after you got started, you liked it too."

He seemed to be trying to figure out why. "I never did anything like that before. It never occurred to me."

"But you did like it."

"I guess so. I was in a rage at you. I wanted to raise welts."

I twisted a little, rubbed my butt and smiled ruefully.

"You did. I can hardly sit down." "It was the damnedest thing that ever happened to me."

"Are you married?"

He paused before answering. Then he said, "Yes."

"Then I'll bet your wife is going to catch it when you get home. The new trick you learned in the city."

"She'd go running home to her mother." "Would your wife do what I did for you?" "No. I don't think so."

"Would you do to her what you did to me?"

"I never have. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe trying to find out how things will be when I get married."

"Are you planning to get married?"

"Some day. Every girl wants to get married."

"After you've had your fun."

"Isn't fun possible afterwards? I mean with the person you're married to?"

"It's — different," he said.

"How is it different?"

"Oh, I don't know. With the person you're around all the time, you get a little self-conscious, I guess."

"It wouldn't be that way with me." "How do you know?"

"I'd have to sleep with the man I planned to marry, to find out if we could establish a good sex relationship."

"Do you think he'd marry you after that?"

It was a strange question. It didn't make any sense. Why would a man refuse to marry a girl just because they had a good sex relationship? A crazy question and I was going to ask him about it, but just then there was a tap on the door.

"That'll be dinner." he said.

Halfway to the door, he stopped and looked back. "Maybe you better go into the bathroom. Or — well, do something."

For a second I didn't know what he meant. I thought maybe the hotel objected to him having a lady sitting on his lounge talking to him.

Then I realized I would have given the waiter a big thrill. My blouse was open and my boobs were out. I hadn't put my ripped panties back on, and I was sitting with one leg under me and my skirt up, everything showing.

I got up quickly and went into the bathroom and waited, buttoning up my blouse.

When I came out he had the table spread, and he looked disappointed.

"You hid them."

"Why not?"

"It's all right, but do me a favor. Take your blouse off again."

"But I thought we were going to have dinner."

"We are. But I never had dinner with a woman whose breasts were showing. I'd like to —"

"To tell the boys about it when you get home?"

"Maybe." At least he was frank and honest.

But the way I looked at it, they wouldn't know my name. I would just be a girl he met in the city. And I'd never had dinner half nude with a man either.

So I took the blouse off. "Remember," I said, "what you're concerned with is on the table."

He laughed. "Ill remember that. But I may miss my mouth with my fork a few times, just gaping." We sat down. "Aren't they heavy, carrying them around?"

"A girl gets used to it. Tell me about your wife."

"She's a nice girl. There isn't much to tell."

"Did you sleep with her before you married her?" It was a pretty frank question, but he'd asked me some pretty frank ones, so I saw no reason why he should be angry.

And he wasn't. He said, "Yes, but it wasn't any good."

"Why not?"

"She was so shy she was almost afraid to undress. Then, when we did get in bed, I couldn't do anything."

"Wasn't it dangerous then, marrying her? Weren't you afraid you didn't fit together sexually?"

"I didn't think of sex in relation to her. Well, I guess I did, but it was different." "Different? How?"

"I wanted to take care of her, protect her from the world."

"Was she the type that needed protecting?"

"She didn't have to be. When you're in love with someone you just naturally feel that way."

"You wouldn't get a kick out of whacking her on the behind?"

"No."

"But you got a kick out of whacking me." "Yes."

"Then wouldn't I make a better wife for you? More — more — there's a word." "Functional?"

"That's right. Wouldn't I be more functional?

With me as a wife, you wouldn't have to pick girls up in elevators."

"But I'd probably go right on doing it." "Why?"

"Because a man always wants to find something new, I guess."

"We all look alike. I mean we're all built the same. So what?"

"Don't you ever wonder about a man?" I had to admit that I did. You always wonder how they are. It's exciting, finding out. "Yes, but there's so much more chance of men being different. You can be disappointed. Or the other way, scared."

He laughed. "Have very many men scared you? "I've been scared — plenty. Have many women disappointed you?"

He was looking at my boobs as though he just couldn't get used to them. "Dessert?" I said.

He jerked his eyes up as I pushed a piece of pie in his direction.

"Okay," he grinned. "I'll take the pie if that's all you've got to offer."

Then the grin faded and he said, "That party tonight. It will be pretty rough."

"Sounds exciting."

"Are you sure you want to go?"

"Don't you want to take me?"

"Sure, but I felt I ought to warn you."

"Maybe you'd rather stay here and make love."

"I'm afraid we'd kill each other."

"Then maybe we'd better go to the party and kill somebody else."

"All right. But remember — I warned you."