Chapter 4
It was a new feeling for me. With Marge the climax had not been the ending but only a new beginning. It was love expressed and then we went on with it and eventually, time and time again, expressed it through the meeting of our bodies. This time I had (admittedly) enjoyed playing with the blonde's tits and mouthing her to her own climax; I had, at that same moment, enjoyed my own climax. Nice, beautiful physical contact with the "Love" juices spewed out.
There was only one trouble, one difference; there was no love involved. It had been pure, animal sex. Without knowing anything about her, without even knowing her name, I had given her physical satisfaction while enjoying her body; Johnnie-boy's mouth, I told myself, had at least been better than my own hand.
It was a new feeling and a turning point. It was a coming-to-grips with my own philosophies, with thoughts and feelings that I had toyed with earlier. Added up, it meant one thing; I had fucked for love (or as a part of love) and it had blown up in my face. Now I knew that I could fuck for the sheer pleasure of it-and, more, I was determined that that was the way it should and would be. I would build a veneer around myself. As a song of yesteryear went, "I'll never love again..."
Back in my room, showering alone, I said, "Thanks, Johnny-boy. Thanks for showing me that!"
And so began two years of fucking for the sake of fucking, a project that I entered into with gusto! It was almost like a compulsion; I had to fuck as many as I could, as often as I could, each time pulling my dick out or away, mentally brushing my hands with a, "Well, that's that!" and walking away. And it was, I realize, almost a sickness, because after each session I'd go back to my room and write a detailed description of what had happened. And in a way, I guess, it was my own way of telling Marge (even without her knowing it) that I could survive (if fucking is surviving!) without her!
Reaching this point in the re-telling (to myself) of the story, I eased myself out of bed again, got the flashlight again, and went into the closet. I opened the footlocker and reached into it; this time I didn't have to move things, I could work by feel. I found the two thick binders and lifted them out, carried them into the living room where the lamp was still burning. Sitting down, I held them on my lap and looked at them; there was no printing on the outside, but I could put my own invisible-to-anyone-but-me letters there. THE SEX LIFE OF DAVID MILLER, AGE 18-21. Or maybe, FUCKING TO FORGET BY. Some of the people involved seem to come back to life, little midgets walking across the cover of the top book; some, of course, I had long since forgotten (some, as a matter-of-fact, I forgot almost immediately!).
I don't know why I pulled them out, I just had to. I had to hold them, feel them, and admit to what was inside them. All those people I had fucked or been fucked by in those days of running ... for that, I realized now if I hadn't realized before, was what it had been all about. Hurt, crushed, I had either to run or to stand still and die (except, of course, the broken-hearted are seldom if ever provided such an easy escape!).
I hesitated, but (again for reasons I couldn't understand) finally knew that I had to go through it. Maybe not read every descriptive, but at least read some of them. I started flipping the pages, reading at random (and if you, the reader, are interested, I was fully aware then as I am now that it was not too unlike reading case histories! As a matter-of-fact, in re-reading what I had written I must admit that I surprised even myself at times!).
It was Sunday, a free day for me. I got up late, showered and then went down for breakfast at the cafeteria on the corner. It was a beautiful day, so I decided to go to the park. I had been in the city long enough that the whole world seemed to be made of concrete and glass, but mostly concrete.
I saw a girl feeding the birds. Fifteen or sixteen at the most and enough, I thought at first, to turn any man away-but then I looked a little closer, and under the shabby coat there seemed to be a nice body, and if she'd throw her damned horn-rimmed glasses away and use a little makeup, fix her hair, she could be damned attractive. So I said to myself, as I heard someone else say, Who fucks a face, anyway?
When I spoke to her she nearly jumped out of her wits; obviously very shy and (I told myself) never been fucked. I decided on the I'm-a-lonely-boy technique. It worked. We ended up sitting on a bench talking, and she ended up admitting that she felt that she was ugly, had parents who were dominating, and so had had one hell of a lonely life. I took her hand and felt sorry for her and got her hand into my crotch without her knowing it. A couple of seconds later she had a handful of hard on, and I could tell that she felt like she should let go of it but didn't want to.
To make a long story short, we went into the bushes and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her on the throat and face while I ground my cock against her, mumbling that two people as lonely as we were needed each other. I felt her butt and it was a nice one, then T went under her coat and started on her boobs. All the while, of course, I was still pressing my hard on against her.
Finally I said to her, "You've never been with a man before, have you?"
She blushed, admitted that years ago she had played around a little with a little boy, but no, she had never been with a man. I could tell that she was still a little afraid, so I let go of her long enough to open my fly and haul old Junior out. I lied, telling her that he had never been in a girl before, then I asked if I could..."well, you know, see what you've got, too!"
We lay down and she let me run my hand up under her skirt. Her legs were nice and warm and I had to push my way between them, but then, through her panties, I felt a lovely cunt. I squeezed it gently, rubbed it, then slid a finger up under her panties and ran it up and down her cleavage. I prodded ever so gently, found that tight little hole and started working my way into it; she gasped, grasping hold of my cock, and I was sure then that before it was over I was going to have myself a cherry. She might not have known at at that moment, but she wanted cock where that finger was!
Well, when we got down to the nitty-gritty I tried to do what I thought was best for her. I mean, I wanted a fuck, but I didn't want to hurt her any. But I had to act like a school teacher; I told her to slide her panties off and put them in her purse, which she did, then, on my back, I told her to lift her skirts and straddle me. She did. I told her to take hold of my cock and rub it up and down her. She did, and while she did that I reached up and stuck my hands under her blouse, got her bra loose and shifted it so I could get a nice little tittie in each hand (and they were slightly little, with the nipples seeming especially large because of their smallness). She was really in a tizz, loving the feel of my cock-head sliding up and down her valley; her eyes were almost glazed. I spit on my hand, rubbed it over the head, then gently told her to try to stick it inside herself. She straightened it out, pushing the head between the cunt-lips, then nature took over. Her hips started moving and she took a little more, the shaft spreading her; she grimaced a little, let out a slight groan, but I could tell from her face that she wasn't going to quit. She was going to do what I would have done had I been on top, and she did it.
Giving a thrust, she let out a slight cry of pair as my prick-head broke through her maidenhead; she took me all the way in. After that there was no stopping it. We fucked our way to a fare-thee-well, me rolling us over so I could do the final, masterful thrusting. I think that she must have cum three or four times before I finally started shooting, and oh, the fire-crackers did go off! I shot so long and hard that, coupled with her own juices, it squeezed out around my prick and soaked both our pubic hairs.
She didn't want me to take it out; she grabbed on to me desperately. I didn't argue; I left it there and rested a bit, then I started making love to her again and it hardened again. I fucked her for the second time.
She wants to meet in the park again next Sunday. I don't know whether I'll go or not.
P.S. [added later] I did, and this time I showed her what a sixty-nine is like. She did a good job, but admitted that she preferred having a big, hard hunk of meat up inside her! She wants to meet again, but that scares me ... she has found out that fucking is great, but I don't want to get any entanglements! I guess I hope that she can go out and find other boys now.
There's this woman lives in the hotel as a permanent guest. She's somewhere in her fifties or early sixties. I don't think I'd ever want to fuck her, even out of desperation, but she sent out a lot of little feelers and now we've got this arrangement: Friday nights I go to her room. She shows me some pictures she had of people screwing, and while I'm looking at them her hand creeps into my crotch. She plays with my hard on a little, then suggests that I undress. I do, and then while I look at the pictures again (she somehow comes up with new ones now and again) I beat myself off. She almost goes wild when I shoot, then sort of babies me while she wipes it up, telling me this is good, I should beat myself off rather than "sticking that beautiful thing in some awful woman." It's sort of weird, but it's five bucks she gives me, and I can use it!
P.S. [Added later| She had had a little to drink tonight. When I started working myself-I always sit in a chair, legs spread and my butt right down on the edge of it-she went down between my legs. She started by playing with my balls while I slowly worked my meat, but the first thing I knew she had taken hold of it, pulled it down and was sucking on it. When I was ready to cum she pulled away and I shot all over her face and throat. She gave me an extra five dollars. Not sure, but I think she might have some kind of a problem!
Johnnie-boy and his wife are back. He admitted right off that he had checked to be sure that I was still here. He also said that his wife wanted me to fuck her, so he wondered if I would do that while I blew him. I told him that I wouldn't mind fucking her but I was no cock-sucker. He then asked if I would consider letting him fuck me in the ass while I screwed her. Although it brought back memories of that time at the beach, I told him thanks but no thanks. The poor guy seemed almost beside himself, so I said to him, "Why don't you just let me go fuck your wife and then you come to my room later?"
He said he'd like that, but the trouble was, once he had an orgasm he couldn't get another hard-on for several hours. His wife checked him every time he left and returned; he had to be able to get a hard on. (I remembered then, of course, that he had shot off during our last scene; it turned out that he hadn't had to jack off. When he's blowing a guy, when the guy shoots, he does!)
"Well, look," I finally said, "if it'd do any good, I guess I could beat you off while I fucked her."
He shook his head. No, he wanted more than that. It looked like, as a Chinaman might say, no suckee, no fuckee. It was a bad scene; I remembered what a luscious number his wife was with those big tits and that cunt that really responded to attention. Finally I said, remembering, "Well, why can't your wife suck you off while I pour the meat to her."
Simply stated, his wife would suck off a normal man if that was what he wanted, but she wouldn't suck off a queer, and she knew that Johnnie, her husband, was a queer. A prick, obviously, is not simply a prick: it depends on whom it's hanging on!
It looked like we had met a stalemate, then Johnnie's face suddenly brightened. "You know," he said, "it's really you I want. Man, you're great, that dong of yours is great. But ... I think Liz might go for this. If I could find someone else ... well, I could blow him while you're screwin' Liz. I mean, if we're in the same bed, the four of us, then Liz shouldn't complain."
He was back ten minutes later looking like a kid who had just had his lollipop taken away from him. Liz wouldn't go for it; it had to be three way or not at all. I had been doing a little more thinking myself (a little remembering-those big tits, that sweet-tasting pussy!) so I said, "Well, look, how about this? Give me a few minutes rest, I can fire off a second time. How about ... "
I didn't have time to finish the sentence! He grabbed hold of me and practically dragged me out of the room. So there I was, a couple of minutes later, taking my clothes off while I looked down at that luscious, finger-fucking Liz! (She must have been a nympho, because I could see that she had already gotten herself off at least once; the cum had dribbled out around her finger. Johnnie's efforts and the possibilities of what he might bring back must have kept her in a constant state of sexual excitement.)
Anyway, as I slid out of my shorts, old Junior popping up to full-stature, she pulled her hand away and raised her arms to me. I went into them, getting my cock between her legs and crushing her tits with my chest as I found her mouth and started tonguing. She responded with her own tongue and was obviously hot to fuck; she slid her hands down to my hips and let it be known that she wanted me to raise up; when I did she reached under and grasped my cock, stroked it a few times admiringly, groaning into my mouth as she felt its full size.
She finally pulled her mouth away and said, "Ye gods, that's one helluva hunk of meat! Christ, pour it to me, baby, pour it to me!"
It didn't take a second invitation. I reached down between us, taking my stallion ganglia away from her, and ran it up and down her pussy a couple of times, burying the pliant giant as deep as it would go and thrilling from the sensation; finally I found the hole, sent the head in, then withdrew my hand and started pumping.
I gave it to her for all it was worth, giving her the full nine inches with every stroke, and she almost went out of her mind. Her legs went up in the air, slid over my back and she locked her ankles; in that position she matched stroke with stroke, popping our bellies together, withdrawing, popping them together again. I kissed her mouth almost cruelly, pulling her tits out from between us and mauling them as I let the full weight of my upper-body fall on her while my lower-body humped like crazy.
It was fantastic, and I finally drove it in full to the hilt and left it there, quivering and spurting, my whole lower-body jerking. She spent at the same time, screaming out obscenities into my mouth, then her legs fell off me.
"Oh, sweet Jesus," she whispered, "that was one hell of a fuck! I'd like to pickle that piston of yours and take it home with me!"
I felt hands on my hips and looked up. Johnnie was beside us, naked. He had a hard on, five or six inches at best, and a look of concern (or worry) on his face.
"Come on," he said, "roll over so you can cool off. She'll be wanting you a second time..."
"You fuckin' well know it," Liz spat out. She looked up at me. "You decide, Mr. Big-cock. You want to screw me again, or you want this little queer blowin' you?"
"Well," I half-mumbled without really thinking about it, "a promise is a promise."
She snorted. "You want to waste that beautiful hunk of meat on a man, you go ahead. 'Course, maybe you're a little queer yourself and don't want to admit it ... ! "
I looked down at her; for a minute it seemed at least a little bit like what Marge had done to me. Not bothering to give it any more definite thought, I rolled over. "Just give me a couple of minutes," I told Johnnie, "and I'll be able to go again."
Once I had noticed her, I noticed her all the more. I found out that she came into the restaurant every noontime for lunch; I could look out through the triangular window in the swinging door, and there she'd be, sitting all alone in a booth. She was of average height and built well, but nothing ... well, no one thing stood out. I mean, it was just all there, and it was right. Nice tits, nice hips, nice legs, nice face. She was dark-haired (like Marge), but had a very pale face, as if she didn't get out of doors very much. She was ... well, I think that "dignified" is probably the best word. She dressed simply but real smart. I honest to god thought she was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen, and I really wanted to get into her pants. Just standing there at the door watching her I'd get a hard on and have to go into the toilet and get rid of it. The stupid part was, of course, I thought she was untouchable; there was a whole world between us. I couldn't go out and talk to her; I couldn't send her a note saying, I'd sure like to fuck you, when can we meet!
Then we met. It was one evening when I was on my way home from work. I was walking along and there she was, standing on a streetcorner waitingto cross. I followed her. She went a few blocks and turned into an apartment house. Well, after that I tried to time it so I was there at the same time, and it proved out right, she got off work and was heading for home that time of day every day. The other day she suddenly stopped and I almost bumped into her; turning, she sort of smiled at me. She told me that she was very flattered, but she really wished I wouldn't follow her home every night! Jesus, I almost creamed just having her talk to me! Back at the hotel, thinking about her, I couldn't help myself; I imagined myself with her and beat it off.
I laid off a couple of days and then started again. Today ... miracle of miracles ... she stopped again, smiled again, and shook her head. "You're persevering, I'll have to say that," she said. "Well, come up and have a drink."
Her apartment was real nice. I plunked myself down on a sofa, legs spread, and she went onto the bedroom. When she came out she was wearing a loose-fitting housecoat, and I had the distinct feeling that she wasn't wearing anything under it. That, needless to say, caused old Junior to leap to attention.
She mixed us drinks (I didn't have the courage to tell her that I had never had a drink in my life), and after handing me mine sat across from me, crossing her legs so that I could see a lovely hip and ankle. The way her tits pushed against the housecoat, if she wasn't wearing a bra they were really great ones! She lit a cigarette, blew out the smoke and looked at me through it, half-smiling.
When the smoke cleared I saw the smile, then I saw her lower her eyes to my crotch. Finally she said, in a beautiful voice, "I had a perfect speech prepared for you, my young friend. About youth and love and how the broken-hearts of youth mend, the object of those affections soon forgotten. I was going to give you that speech and send you along your way, but ... "
I waited, looking down. I swallowed. "But what?" I finally asked.
She smiled again, fleetingly. "It was Shakespeare who said, 'llnto thine own self be true.' I'm a woman, a human being; I generally keep my appetites in hand, but ... well, that is a most interesting-looking bulge in your trousers."
The long and the short of it is that we finally went into her bedroom, a beautiful room of purples and gold, with a lot of mirrors. She let her housecoat fall off, and her body, like her face, was pale; she looked more like a statue than a human being. A beautiful statue. I had been right; she was naked under the housecoat, and she was like the Venus de Milo with both arms. I damned near tripped getting out of my pants, and by that time I could have pole-vaulted onto the bed. But she had other ideas; she came into my arms, crushing our bodies together, taking my cock between her legs and pressing her tits to my chest.
"Ummmm," she mumbled, "it does feel good, the feel of a strong, male body." I started to put my arms around her, but she quickly moved her hands to my arms and pushed them away. "Turn around," she said, "Look at the two of us in that mirror."
I turned, and there we were, both of us in our nakedness and, even if I do say so myself, we made a damned good-looking pair. She was pure femininity, luscious, and I was strong, hard-cocked, male.
"Turn slowly," she said softly, "I want to enjoy every part of your body." I turned slowly while she kept looking in the mirror. When I had made a complete circle she went to her knees in front of me; cupping my balls in one hand, she took my cock in the other and gently stroked it. She leaned forward and kissed it on the head, ran her tongue around it.
"Lovely," she half-whispered, "absolutely lovely!"
I guess that I was completely awed by her, therefore I let her run the show. Or maybe I just had the feeling that if I didn't she might back away at any time, call it all off; she certainly had me confused. It seemed that she was thoroughly enjoying herself, but it also seemed as if she could take or leave sex. I sure as hell didn't want her leaving it!
She pushed herself to her feet again, stood in front of me, so close that I could smell her soft fragrance. Looking into my eyes with a sort of half-smile in hers, she asked, "What do you like to do, my big-cocked young friend?"
"I ... Heck, anything, Anything you want to do."
"You want to fuck me?"
I nodded my head. "Yeah, I'd like that."
"Or would you rather I go down on you?"
I swallowed. "If that's what you want ... "
"What if I were to just masturbate you?"
"Well..." I answered, unable to keep the edge of disappointment from my voice, "if that's all you want to do."
She chuckled softly. "Waste a beautiful thing like that? Never! So as long as you're indecisive, why don't we try a little of each until we find what we both like best?"
The little of each was wild! Sprawled on the bed, me half on top of her, we kissed passionately while we felt of each other's bodies. I fondled her tits and rubbed her, she stroked my cock, rubbed my back and buttocks; I moved my head down and started mouthing her luscious orbs, teasing the nipples to hardness with my tongue, grasping her firm pussy in the palm of one hand. A few moments later, not knowing exactly which one of us had actually made the move, we were turning around; I buried my face in the dark forest between her legs as she slid her lips over my prong. I sent my tongue darting into her as she moved her mouth up and down, taking my balls in one hand and fondling them gently. She took me in clear to the root, I sent my tongue as deep into her as I could get it, prodding a bit and then cork-screwing it in, sloshing it around the soft, moist, velvety lining.
We groped each other's buttocks, and I thrilled her a little more by sending my finger down her dark, rear-end channel, moving it in and out with the movement of my tongue from the other side. She wiggled her hips and made little noises, but she kept working on my dong at the same time, giving it a thorough working over. I don't think that either one of us would have minded continuing on that route; we were both thoroughly enjoying what we were doing-but she had said that we were going to try a little of each, and she obviously meant it. She pulled her mouth away from my cock, rolled her pussy away from my mouth, and rolled over onto her back.
I didn't need an invitation. Turning around, I straddled her, my knees on either side of her hips. I looked down into her face, then lowered my head and touched my lips gently to hers. I wiggled my tongue out a little, teased her lips with it, and her mouth opened for me as she reached down between us and shoved my cock into place, forcing the head hard along the valley of her cleavage until it reached the opening . As I sent my tongue into her mouth I sent my cock into that pliant, glove-tight pussy-not all at once, but inch by inch until it was Finally buried deep within her.
"Oh, God," she groaned into my mouth, "oh, God, it feels good to have a big cock up there again!"
There was no question now as to what the finale would be. We kept kissing and I kept fucking, using long, even strokes, and her own body started responding more and more. She shoved her hips up off the bed with each stroke, taking it to the hilt, pulled away as I did, rose up to meet me again. Our strokes grew faster, then I felt the fireworks going off in my head again. I humped as my jism spurted out, jerky motions, and she matched them, too, then with the educated muscles of her pussy she milked me dry. I collapsed onto her and she didn't mind at all.
There was a silly little, flirtatious teen-ager walking down the sidewalk this evening. She was trying to act like a sensuous adult but only looked like a poor imitation of a prostitute, especially because she was sort of skinny and had rather poor excuses for tits. But she was trying hard and I had the urge, so when she made a crack to me I suggested that we step into a dark doorway.
Once in there I groped her a little, just to feel her buttocks and little pussy, then I told her that I couldn't mess around with a girl her age, but if she wanted to blow me that'd be all right.
She didn't hesitate, but went to her knees, pulled my cock out, and gave me not the best but at least a satisfying blow-job. She damn near choked, but she was valiant; I don't think that she missed a drop, then did a thorough job of sucking it dry.
Sort of odd-ball experience tonight, but it was fun. I am sitting in a cafeteria, having coffee, when two young women went by. They were both blondes, and even at a glance I could tell that they weren't bad. Cute but not beautiful, their young tits pushing out against tight sweaters, little asses squashed into tight skirts. They did an about-face, came back and with no qualms stood outside the window looking in at me as they carried on a heated conversation (at least it seemed heated). A couple of seconds later they turned away, then I saw them coming toward me inside. One slid into the booth opposite me, the other stood by the table.
"You a swinger?" the standing one asked openly.
I smiled. "I've been known to have fun, if that's what you mean," I answered.
She bobbed her head, accepting the answer, then blurted out, "Well, let me ask you this! She [nodding her head to the other girl] claims if a guy has long fingers it means he has a big hunk of meat. Is that true?"
I pursed my lips and shrugged my shoulders. "I never made a study of it, but ... "
"What about you? We looked in the window, and you have real long fingers."
What the hell, I thought. "Would you believe ten inches?"
Her eyes widened for a moment, then she said, "You're the man for us, wanna come along?"
They shared an apartment with a third girl, a redhead who was equally well-stacked and sort of pretty. They also obviously also shared an interest in sex and in having group activities (maybe they felt safer that way!). Anyway, I can't begin to remember the sequence of everything that happened; I just know that in nothing flat we were all naked, and I had three hot little numbers climbing all over me.
Mouths and tits and cunts were touching me all over and I was grabbing hold of them; I'd feel a mouth on my cock as a pussy got shoved into my face, another girl would take my hand and guide it to her twat so I could finger-fuck her. I'd get a mouthful of tit, a handful of cunt, and a tight twat would slide down over my cock, ride it for a little bit and then get pushed away, replaced by a mouth.
At one point one of the girls took my balls into her mouth while another was blowing me, the third straddling me with her pussy right in position for my tongue. I guess a couple of them had at least minor orgasms, because there was stickiness all over my body, but it didn't stop them.
It must have gone on for at least an hour, then suddenly they stopped, all three pulling away and leaving me lying there in the middle of the floor with my hard on sticking up like a pole. I raised my head, wondering, then saw one of the girls shake her hands together and then place three round objects on the coffee table. They drew straws, then, and the girl with the shortest straw picked the round object she wanted. She groaned once she'd turned it over. The girl with the middle straw made her selection, then squealed with pleasure.
The name of the game, it seemed, was how they decided who was going to get the final, full-blasted fuck! The blonde who had just drawn the right object spun around and literally lunged toward me. She came down over me like a plane coming in for a landing, crushing her tits against my chest and my cock up between our bellies as her arms went around my neck and she crushed her lips to mine. I responded immediately, rubbing her back and buttocks, giving a little hump motion, then I rolled her over onto her back, raised up, and when I came down I had the head of my cock caught where it belonged.
The other two girls had gone into a clinch of their own, finger-fucking and messing around, but I wasn't the least bit interested in watching two girls have their own kind of sex. I was only interested in the nice-titted, tight-cunted little number under me, and I gave her my full attention.
Warm, juicy kisses while I drove my plunger in and out of her, the feeling of her hot tits squashed between us. It was going good, but then she started maneuvering a little and I realized what she wanted; I pulled away, letting her turn over, then I grasped her hips and pulled her little ass up off the floor, driving my cock between her legs. It pushed along, a few false starts, then finally the head slid in and I went at her from that angle, a good doggie-fashion fucking that brought us both to a fantastically pleasing orgasm. I must have shot a dozen times before I was almost drained dry and we went to the floor, me on top of her and my gone-limp cock flopped down between her legs.
All that work-up had really paid off; it had been a really masterful shooting spree!