Chapter 7
I gaped stupidly at auburn-haired Madge Fryburg for a minute, and then I gulped and said, "Your place."
It wasn't because I was afraid of profaning the place where Dad had drawn his last breath. I guess I already had done just that by whacking Madge's luscious bottom right there in the bedroom where my father lay, but the real reason was that I had a yen to find out more about this enigmatic piece of quim. I wanted to know, too, what she was like in her own surroundings, what made her tick. I thought she'd be a little more uninhibited in her own pad than in mine especially after that startling admission that she wanted me to inspect the damage my good right palm had done on her luscious tail.
She gave me directions, and it turned out to be a little house, more of a bungalow actually, on El Centra Avenue, which isn't an especially swanky part of town. The hedges were trimmed to the same height all along the block. That's another thing about Fresno; you start letting your hedges grow an inch or so above what the neighbors are doing, and you'll get anonymous phone calls asking you what sort of a crank you are anyhow. Nice and neighborly and conformist to their final breath, these Fresnans.
She got out of the Thunderbird and walked down the short paved strip up to the porch of the bungalow. I followed slowly, because my eyes were fixed on those extremely voluptuous hips. I could see that she had an ample bottom, and it didn't seem to have an ounce of fat to it, though my hand had verified that a few hours earlier today, after all. Even in that white skirt, sexless as it was, her hips had a certain take-me-to-bed-and-fuck-me lilt to them.
She unlocked the door and I went in, and she went on in into the small but very long living room and turned on a lamp beside a low wide couch. Then she turned to me and gestured me to sit down, and I did so. With this, she promptly pulled off the nurse's dress and then the slip, and there she was in that pantie girdle, a matching white satin bra, and the white stockings and low-heeled white shoes.
Methodically, her face very impassive and her eyes lowered, she stopped to undo the garter tabs, then unfasten the sheath itself and began to yank it down. I just sat there with my eyes wide open and my mouth practically the same way. I wasn't sure exactly what she wanted me to do but I was going to play it by ear entirely. She was just too amazing for words, was Madge Fryburg.
Down came the sheath and she stepped out of it, wearing only her white stockings and low-heeled shoes and the bra. She had already turned her back to me, but of course not before I had seen a very thick though compact triangle of dark auburn pussy curls over a plump snatch, hiding the lips. And her bellybutton was shallow and wide and a delightful place for kisses as well as finger-tickling. Her skin was wonderfully tawny, very soft and satiny, and I could see how finely grained it was by the way it fitted over the ribcage. She had a slimmer waist than I had thought, from which her hips flared mouthwateringly. The cheeks of her bottom were wonderfully rounded, with a rather sinuous though gradually widening shadowy groove to separate them. Her thighs were nice and long and not too full, her calves were beautifully muscled and high-set, exactly the kind I liked. She had a set of legs a man would love to have wrapped around him so that he could feel every muscular flexion while her loins and belly and bottom were weaving in and out to that age-old rhythm of prick and cunt in unison.
Then, to my further astonishment she put her hands on her stockinged knees, and bent forward, turning her bottom to me. My face went as red as the face before me. I had really laid it on mercilessly, I'm afraid. It must have been sheer torture for Madge Fryburg to sit through dinner even on that cushion, so I could forgive her for the occasional surreptitious squirming she had executed all through the meal, as well as for the occasional wrigglings beside me in the Thunderbird. There wasn't a single inch of tawny untouched bare skin visible from the tops of her hips to the tops of her luscious thighs. It was angriest at the summits and the lower summits, and there it was a really dark and ominous red, like the color of sunburned brick. The cheeks were twitching, too, but whether it was from outraged modesty at exhibiting herself thus to me or the nervous reactions after the spanking, I couldn't quite tell. All I could tell was that the sight of this magnificent Callyphygian beauty made my prick angrily stand at attention and want to do something about the matter.
"I don't know my own strength," was all I could find to say.
She straightened, but without turning back to me, put her hands behind her back and unfastened the bandeau of the bra and let it fall. Now she was practically naked, but those damn white stockings which had begun to sag just past mid-thigh hampered my full enjoyment. Yet this was her house, I was an invited guest, and I decided to bide my time and await developments.
"You certainly don't," she said in a husky voice. She put her hands out of the dark scarlet contours and thoughtfully massaged them. "My father occasionally spanked me, but only till I was about eleven, and those were lovepats."
"Well," I quipped, "they say that hate is akin to love, and at that particular moment, I hated your guts. But that was before I knew you."
She turned to me then, with a curious little smile about that lovely whimsical mouth of hers, and I saw that it was moist and quivering, and she murmured, "That was before you saw my bare bottom, you mean. Do you want me?"
"The question is rather do you want me, Madge."
"Now if you're going to be humble, you can get the hell out of here," she suddenly blazed. "I don't usually put on a strip tease like this for a strange young man I only met a few hours ago and who started our relationship by taking me over his lap and cursing at me and bruising my tender skin. Not hardly. Do you want to screw me or don't you? And I'll tell you in advance that I'm not a virgin, that you won't have to use a safe, and that you've made me so hot already in back you might as well finish the job in front."