Chapter 9
The following week was both heaven and hell for Christine. She was either on the crest of happiness or in the pit of despair. She had been skating her heart out for him, but the audience response was still polite but cold-Jim's reaction was the same. When their paths would cross, he would greet her politely and perhaps indulge in some small talk, but there was no warmth-no cheerful talk-no help. It was employer and employee, nothing more.
She wanted so much for him to tell her what she was doing wrong-how she could fulfill the promise that he had seen in her. She knew Dan would-why didn't Jim. She couldn't understand it-her problem gnawed at her insides.
She had willingly placed her future-her love-her soul in his hands, and he was shunting it aside like a worn-out overcoat. She knew she couldn't take much more of his polite formality-but neither did she know what she could or would do about it.
Patty provided what little happiness there was in her present life. She was warm and understanding to the desperate emotional upheaval which she was experiencing. Patty catered to her sexual needs.
The sexual relationship had blossomed just as their friendship had. The former relationship was now a mutual thing. They performed cunnilingus reciprocally. Their lovemaking was a nightly ritual-and event that each of them looked forward to-Patty, because she was deeply in love with Christine, and Christine because she had been rejected and needed love.
They served each other's needs and brightened each other's lives. It was a delicate balance.
When Christine was told that Jim wanted to see her in his office, her heart almost stopped beating. She rushed there, unable to stop her head from swimming, her heart from pounding against her chest like it was trying to break its way through her warm breast.
Jim rose as Christine entered his office apprehensively and sat down.
She smiled nervously as Jim asked how she was feeling.
It was obvious that he was not his usual relaxed and confident self. He had to perform a distasteful chore and it bothered him. When he offered Christine a cigarette it was only another effort on his part to postpone the inevitable.
"I don't smoke." Christine reminded him.
"I'm sorry, I forgot," he apologized, smiling uneasily.
How could he forget so fast, she wondered. Didn't that night mean anything to him-maybe she had made more of what was just a night in the sack with another girl to him. It couldn't be. He had hinted that she was different than the rest. But he did have the reputation of being a fast man with his zipper. Why did she have to fall in love with him-why did she have to give herself to him? The thoughts raced through her numbed brain.
"Christine...." She heard Jim say, and she snapped out of her thoughts.
"I'm afraid the show is running too long-I'm going to have to cut your number," Jim continued, and, now that he had said it, he seemed relieved-as though a ton of weight had been removed from his chest allowing him to breath again.
Christine's fingers dug into the arms of the chair and she fought to keep back the tears.
"You're letting me go?" she asked, her voice quivering with the emotion growing in her.
"No-you have a contract and, of course, I'll honor it, but I'll have to move you to the chorus to fulfill it."
The words pounded against her ears like small sledge hammers. She couldn't believe what she was hearing-relegated to the chorus. She was going to take the world by storm and she couldn't even hold a five minute spot. If she weren't so completely miserable now, she would have found it grotesquely funny. But now she didn't want to laugh-she wanted to cry-she wanted to be rid of the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Why?" she managed to stammer past the enormous lump that had grown in her throat. "Why? I did my best-I did everything to please you-every movement was for you-I wanted you to be proud of me-I was your discovery-I wanted you to boast of it-what am I doing wrong?"
Jim pounded the desk angrily with his fist arid got up. "Everything's wrong! I don't want you to skate for my pleasure-forget about me-forget about everyone-become a selfish cunt-skate for yourself-live for yourself!" He spit the words out angrily-like a series of sharp left jabs to her psyche.
The dam broke, the tears were flowing freely as Christine ran from the office.
She skated in the chorus that night. She skated by rote, unfeeling and numb. Her mind stopped functioning-everything was a hazy mist. Figures appeared in front of her, but they were formless blobs and when she spoke, it seemed like it was coming out of another body-one that was detached from hers.
As she lay in her bed after the show, she stared blankly at the ceiling, her tortured mind fighting a battle with her emotions. Tears welled up in her eyes, as her despairing sobs echoed throughout the room.
Patty couldn't stand it any longer. She got into bed with Christine, snuggling close to her warm but unresponsive body.
"Chris, honey-why don't we both quit and put our own act together. We can call it Chris and Pat-or Twit and Twat-I'll be twat." She looked to see if she was getting any reaction. None. "Ah, honey, don't let that bastard get you down-you could piss on better men than he'll ever be."
Patty's words were bouncing off an impenetrable wall. She put her hand along the curve of Christine's breast and put her lips against Christine's neck. A tender kiss. No response. A tongue slid along the tendon of Christine's neck. No response. Her hand moved full over the tit and her tongue dipped into the hollow above the collar bone. No response. She rolled the nipple between her thumb and forefinger while she tongued the curve of Christine's breast. Nothing. Her forefinger traced a line down to her belly button, while her mouth moved to the nipple and tongued it. Goose bumps appeared on Christine's smooth body and her stomach twitched a little. Patty increased the activity of her tongue on the nipple, encouraged by the sign that she was breaking through. Her fingers left the navel for the lush pastures of her pubic hair. She fingered through the soft hair. Christine's ass and tummy began to move, almost imperceptibly. It delighted Patty-Christine was beginning to come around. Patty nipped at the tautening nipple as her finger slipped out of the hair and followed the ridges of the meaty cunt-lips.
Christine's movements became more pronounced, her breathing became more rapid and deep as Patty's fingers spread the moistening lips and delved into the warm recess of pink flesh. The telltale gasps delighted Patty as she rolled the clitoris in her fingers and her mouth formed a smoothly sucking bellow on the luscious tit.
Christine lifted her ass slightly and worked against the caressing fingers at her clit. She pressed Patty's head against her breast, trying to put the swelling globe deeper into that succulent mouth.
Involuntarily her legs spread, her passions rose and she forgot Jim, and skating, and Dan; the whole outside world-the consuming desire had taken over and everything else in the world could go straight to hell. Coming was all that mattered-rising to the heights of passion was all that there was to live for.
She strained and moaned and groaned and pushed against Patty's educated tongue and fingers. Higher and higher she began to go.
Patty moved between her legs and moved her mouth wetly down Christine's convulsing body, stopping at sensitive areas to suck in mouthfuls of willing flesh.
Christine's legs and knees went up and out as Patty's tongue reached her beckoning lips. The tongue slid up and down one eager lip and then the other, but never entered the crack. The inflamed pussy snapped at the evasive tongue, trying to capture it between the hungry lips, but it was futile.
"Don't tease me Patty-don't tease me. Make me come! Go in and take me! Suck me dry!" she pleaded.
Her pleas were ignored, Patty kept up the tantalizing tonguing at the entrance to the deep well, but deliberately refused to go in.
It was driving Christine up a wall. She kept screaming, "Go in-go in!" over and over, as she clutched at Patty's head, trying to force her in.
Suddenly, Patty left the agonized, fiery cunt and stood up.
"NO!" Christine screamed. It was as though the world had been pulled out from under her.
"I'll be right back," she assured Christine. She ran to the closet as Christine sunk her own fingers into her aching twat and attacked the clit, trying to get off.
In a moment Patty came out of the closet, wearing a huge dildo. The ersatz cock swayed from side to side as Patty walked quickly to the bed and clambered between Christine's ready legs.
She grabbed the stiff rubber cock, already slick with a thin layer of vaseline. To Christine, it felt very much like the real thing-in her aroused state anything long and stiff between her legs would have felt like, a cock.
She guided the large head to her clitoris and mashed it back and forth against the agitated little bud. It lifted her back up to the heights, as Patty looked on in delight.
"Lay back, baby-let momma do the work," Patty ordered lovingly, and Christine was quick to comply.
Patty took over. She raised Christine's legs and entered into her aching cunt. She pushed and the cock shoved deeper into the cavernous depths of her aroused pussy.
Her hungry cunt contracted and released the stiff thing in her. The dildo drove onward and upward. She wrapped her legs around Patty's back and pleaded. "Ram it in all the way! Stick it in up to the hilt!"
Patty grabbed the working cheeks under her and lifted them up as she rammed her own body forward sending the dildo crashing into the unfathomed depths. Christine screamed out in ecstasy. Their perspiring bodies slammed and twisted against each other, sending explosions of joy through Christine. In and out-around and about-side to side-faster and faster, Patty moved the probing cock into Christine's seemingly unquenchable lust. The orgasm was welling up-ready to explode.
"Jam it-ram it-smash it-deeper deeper-make me come-make me come-fuck me-fuck me-now-now-now-I'm coming-I'm coming-Christ keep it working!" Christine's ass was almost a blurr. It was moving and gyrating rapidly. She squeezed Patty so tightly with her legs that Patty had to force air into her lungs. Christine let go with a tortured wail and forced her body back on the bed, arching her crotch onto the big cock in her. A rapid sequence of spasms and Christine was done. Her limp body slipped off the still ready dildo and sank into the soft mattress.
Patty quickly slipped the contraption off and snuggled beside Christine, her hand resting lightly on the tender heaving tit.
"Did momma make it all better?" she asked as though Christine was a ten-year old. She was actually four years younger than Christine, but she was definitely the protector.
Christine floated on a fleecy cloud-reality was lost in a hazy, gossamer limbo. "All better mommy-all better," she answered in a low, far-off voice, then she drifted into a contented sleep.
Patty covered her and got into her own bed. She lay awake far into the night, trying to reach some decision as to what to do about Christine. She was fully aware that the situation would get much worse before it got any better. How much worse, she didn't know-that's what frightened her.
She knew in her heart that she was only a passing fancy-a substitute for the real thing. She wouldn't be able to keep Christine from suffering a complete mental collapse with her tongue and a phony cock.
The dilemma tortured her until she finally was relieved by falling into a fitful sleep.