Chapter 8
They rested but they couldn't stop. Having their tea with brandy, they sat naked in the kitchen, making small confessions and giggling like high school freshmen. Joan hardly recognized her mother, physically and mentally, because she had never suspected until a week ago that Martha was neither old nor devoid of objective femininity.
"How did you know, Mom?"
"The rug. Sometimes, if I get too excited, I kind of black out when I cum. It only lasts a few minutes and I feel so good afterward! Well, I saw where you'd wrinkled the rug. I remembered straightening it very well-so I knew you'd been home."
Joan laughed. "I didn't know what to do! You were lying there with that great big cock up your cunt and you were all right, but out cold! I took a chance. Oh, my, Mom! We've resolved so many things-for me!"
"After tea-shall I show you how-wonderful the spinning wheel is?"
"Oh yes! After Sam, I don't think it is too big."
"Tell me about Sam-and little Bonnie, baby," Martha pleaded. "Oh, there arc so many exciting things in the world I don't know about! Just think-raped by a Negro! But I guess it is something every woman in the world thinks about. Oh my, I'm having such a wonderful time, baby! I've thought for so long I was just going to live out the rest of my life without any any excitement. But now-" Through with tea, they went to Martha's bedroom. Joan's rubber dildo looked very slim and inadequate beside her mother's huge taped device. Joan stood close, rubbing the balloon covered shape over Martha's back as she stooped and fastened the spindle to the treadle. Then they stood together, hugging and giggling at the obscenity as well as their own daring. Finally Martha sat down in the rocker and slid forward, spreading her legs so Joan could fit the knob of the dildo to the seemingly expectant vagina. With an excited, shaking finger, Joan opened Martha's vulva and nudged the treadle with her foot. The sight of the huge device, wedging, spreading and deforming the hot wet tissues made Joan's head whirl with sensual drunkenness. Slowly then, her eyes absorbing every movement of her mother's flesh as it was entered, she turned the spinning wheel, and little moans of pleasure escaped Martha's throat as the dildo slipped in and out.
"Oh, oh, baby!" she husked. "This is the first t-time I've been able to just-do it. Faster, Joan, faster! Oh, my God!"
She hunched down, then raised each leg, hugging her knees so her big, twin-mooned ass was thrust forward to the plunging piston, now stroking with long smooth ease as her body fluids wet the wraps of tape. Half hysterical with voyeuristic frenzy, Joan knelt and put one hand to her mother's tensing, writhing ass, feeling of the dildo's sloshing, and the deep movement of the penetrated flesh. Her fingers moved down, petting the wetness to Martha's anus, and she once again thrust two fingers up the soft aperture. Martha jerked and slid forward, sending her body in eager seeking, grunting at every charge of the mechanical lust. The rocker's unpredictable action added sudden changes, a deeper thrust, a shallow one, then an easy rhythm slightly out of tempo with the treadle driven cock. It seemed to Joan that her mother was caught in the delicious clutches of a giant fucking machine, ruthless in its unfeeling assault and indifferent to the ecstasies of its victim. Groping behind her kneeling body, Joan found her rubber cock and when she slid her fingers from Martha's asshole, the thicker shaft slid in the slacked aperture with no effort. Not until a full five or six inches had disappeared did Martha seem to know of the substitution. Her eyes opened and she peered down between her quivering thighs, a look of surprised pleasure coming over her face.
"Oh, baby, baby! That's-so g-good! Oh dear Joan, fuck me with it, out and in, out and in!"
Eagerly, Joan gripped the plaited handle and found a counter rhythm to the treadle thrust, plunging the rubber cock in as the taped one receded. Her mother's asshole pouted out, then rolled in, and the see-sawing action soon induced Martha to a shuddering, gasping orgasm. She let go of her knees and her heavy legs flopped down. Her hands gripped Joan's shoulders and she let out several hoarse cries before the violence of her cum stiffened her except for spasms of jerking. Joan slowed the spinning wheel and let the rubber dildo rest high in her mother's milking rectum. And abruptly, Joan was so weak and exhausted she fell back on the rug, staring as if hypnotized at the beautifully lewd end of her mother's passion. "M-mama?" she queried.
"I'm all right-all right. Oh, that was the m-most wonderful thing that ever happened to me! Oh, Joanie, help me up, baby!"
Joan moved the spinning wheel back, watching the huge dildo slip free. Martha's cunt remained open and turned out until she struggled to rise. When Joan reached to slip the rubber dildo from her mother's ass, Martha giggled and squeezed her nates tight around the shaft.
"No, baby! I'll t-take it out in the bathroom. Or maybe," she added. "I'll leave the sweet thing in, forever!"
"You didn't faint this time," Joan said.
At the door, Martha laughed again. "Later, maybe! I'm not-done yet, honey. Oh my!"
Not the least of delights for Joan was to see her mother running for the bathroom, the plaited handle of the "night stick" sticking down from between the rolling, bobbing cheeks of Martha's ass. Joan rolled over on the rug, panting and shaken. She cradled her cheek on one arm and softly sobbed. She hadn't known she could be as happy as she was. Presently, she sat up and stared at the motionless dildo thrusting from the innocently wonderful spinning wheel. It lacked flesh warmth and the ability to pulsate and swell, but one of her balloons, a pink or a red one, would lend an obscenely human tint to it. Abruptly, she wanted it in her so badly she could hardly stand it. She was sitting in the rocker with her tapered legs apart when Martha came back, swinging the freshly washed club from its imitation leather thong.
"Mama, you must do it for me, now! I think it w-will go in!"
"I'll help you, dear," Martha promised and went to her dresser. She returned with a tube of handcream and put a short, white ribbon on two fingers. Kneeling then, she pressed the cool cream low between the lips of Joan's quaking cunt. She gasped, giggled, then hunched up for the delicious smearing, the tender probing of the knowing fingers. The cool quickly disappeared as Martha worked the delicate lubricant into Joan's vulva, stretching the inner lips and relaxing the tensions. It was almost enough; Joan felt the weight of Martha's tits on her thigh, her eyes adoring the jiggling animation of the lightly veined flesh, and she sighed to the sensation of being tenderly finger-fucked.
"Oh, Mama," she murmured. "In the top drawer of my dress-a plastic sack of b-balloons. Would one make it better? A red one? " Martha laughed. "Lie still a minute, baby," she said.
She returned quickly stretching a red balloon between her fingers to break the initial contraction, then while Joan watched, Martha rolled and worked the balloon over the taped dildo. Never having seen a man roll a condom onto his penis, she squinted and imagined the dildo was a real prick and that her mother's hands were those of a man. As the sleek red skin was tugged in place, the handcream brightened and toned the scarlet, and both women stared at its remarkably human look.
"It's so-so nasty!" Martha cooed. "Oh! Open up, baby, it's coming in!"
"Hurry, Mama!" Joan wailed and she spread her thighs as widely as they would go. Martha dragged the spinning wheel into the full vee, and the head of the dildo snugged to Joan's gaping vulva. Martha's fingers separated the puffed lips, laying them back to expose the aperture which until a week ago, had known nothing larger than a Tampax. Then Martha turned the wheel and the red monster slid in, slick and high and seemingly with human desire to split and lacerate the resisting tissues. It went up and in with ruthless force until the treadle would send it no farther, and Joan moaned as her suspended breath burst free of her constricted lungs.
"Wait, wait, wait!" she pleaded. "Don't m-move it, Mama! Oh, it's killing me! But it will be all right, it will! Oh my God, yes!"
The, final cry was because Martha had been unable to restrain her eagerness and as the wheel turned, the huge cock began its hard coursing and Joan nearly fainted, partially in agony and partially in excruciatingly wonderful sensation. At the end of each stroke, Joan jerked in pain, then came the long out-drag, ripping at her nerves and sucking her cunt inward as the thickness created furious vacuum. She trembled and moaned, and her mother's hands were suddenly all over her tits and belly, feeling under her armpits, squeezing and molding with frenzied passion, a back-pushed foot working the treadle rapidly now.
Caught by the mechanical fucking machine, Joan began to sink into a strange lethargy, broken only by the spasmodic twitches of pain and the devastating goodness that followed. Her hands found Martha's rolling tits, her fingers dug deeply, pulling and squeezing in tempo to her own sensations. She was surprised when she discovered how her ass was thrashing and rotating, trying to find more pain and accept more of the plunging dildo. She thought once about how huge the club was and how her distended vagina must look, like another balloon stretched around the monster cock. Then she could only feel her groin, afire with building tensions, straining to lift and then to seize. Safely landed on the sweet plateau of sustained passion, she opened her eyes and saw her mother, eyes wide, mouth agape, caught in the excitement of voyeuristic delight and mutual lewdness.
"I'm going to cum," Joan said with amazing calm.
"Mama!"
"Yes, baby!" Martha suddenly folded down and her lips went, to the wide open top of Joan's cunt. Her tongue slapped at the raised ridge of Joan's clitoris, her mouth closed down, nibbling, and the dildo rubbed her cheek, smearing wet on the soft round. Joan shrieked with furious ecstasy as her mother sucked and licked and the dildo plunged and receded. The blaze of orgasm was a revolving coal in her womb, and with one huge jerk, Joan smashed the. ball of fire and let it pulse all through her body as the exquisite, needle-sharp cum exploded.
When the exquisite thumping faded, Joan realized that the dildo was quite in her secret sleeve and so was her mother's mouth and tongue. Martha was resting heavily, and her only movement was the underclutch and delve of the hand between her own high thighs. Joan petted the disheveled head and cried softly. They were so happy together.
They had dinner, each in a deliberately unsashed robe, each recounting over and over how they had felt at the mercy of the spinning wheel. Martha washed the dishes and Joan dried them, moving every few seconds to rub her still quivering body to her mother's.
"I'm so tired," Martha finally admitted.
"Me too, Mama, but-" "I know! I want to go right back and start all over again! There are so many things we haven't done-so many nice things to do! But, baby, you 11 be so worn out tomorrow you can't teach, won't you?"
Joan looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. "It's only nine-fifteen, Mama. Why don't I call Miss Addelson, the Vice Principal, and tell her I've come down with something, or have a fever? Then we wouldn't have to worry about tonight, Mama, or tomorrow."
"Oh my! Do you think you should, dear?"
"Why not, Mama? I've only been off three days this semester. Anyway, I wouldn't be able to keep my mind on those damned kids tomorrow. I think I will, Mama!"
"It would be so very, very nice, wouldn't it?"
They kissed and as the flush crept back up Joan's body, she went into the hall and looked up the vice principal's number. While she made the call, Martha came to stand at her back, and the warm shape of vibrating flesh inspired Joan to feel backward while she lied to Miss Addelson and absorbed the vice principal's sympathy. "There," Joan said as she hung up the telephone. "Now, we have the whole world to ourselves, Mama. Oh, I love you so!"
Bonnie lay on the worn board floor, arms and legs sprawled at nearly impossible angles. Faintly, she could hear Claw's laughter and Snake's fatuous echoing. Sam was somewhere, but he had helped them fuck her half to death, then held her while Claw teased her tits with the switchblade. She couldn't move without streaks of pain running from her asshole both ways and her cunt oozed jism, wetting her inner thighs and low belly. She wanted to cry and couldn't. Not because she was hurt and sick, but because the tip of Claw's knife in the nipple of her left tit had smashed her resolve and she had told them where Joan lived.
They had thrown her to the floor then, naked, discarded and crushed.
"Think we can make it, Claw?" Snake asked.
"Goddamned cunt would live three miles away! Well, we got to try. This scene is deadsville and the fuzz is checking all the pads down the pike a block or two. What's Sam doing? " "Watching. What should we do with her? We boxed her around pretty good, and she may wake up mad. She know where we heading, too."
"Yeah. You see there's something we can use to tie her up."
Bonnie was past caring what they did to her. Once they left, they wouldn't come back, she was sure, and if she felt badly about spilling her guts about Joan Gilbert, she consoled herself that Joan was white and grown-up and didn't have to stand still for a lot of crap because of a black hide and a no-good brother. And there was always the chance, not very satisfying to Bonnie, that the fuzz would get the three Black Panthers before they could find the apartment house where Joan lived.
She lay, shivering with the reaction of terror and physical abuse. If they tied her, she'd get loose. She had fifteen dollars and in the morning, she'd take some of it and buy food for her father and herself. She didn't even want to guess how badly they had beaten her father. But he was a nigger like herself, and they healed quick, Bonnie thought. They'd figure out what to do when Snake and Claw and her cheap-assed brother were gone. Gone was a nice word to Bonnie and she doted on it.
She didn't open her eyes when Snake brought the cotton clothesline and they tied her hands behind her back and her ankles together. They poked and pinched her and she still didn't say anything. Finally, they tossed her onto the cot and threw a cover over her naked body. But they didn't go right away. For a long time she could hear the three of them talking excitedly in the front room.
Big men. Trying to gab each other into enough guts to tackle the street. Finally, they came to her room and left through the window. She almost laughed. Any alley cat would panic them into a dead run. Bonnie sighed and dozed off. Gone was such a nice word.