Chapter 13
It was the day after her birthday that Lori met Brutus, which was, she was later to realize, a rather monumental moment in her young life. The birthday celebration her aunt and uncle staged for her was more than a little trying-what with a gala party for three at the Astoria, with lobster and baked Alaska and dozens of other delicacies on the menu, then a film and finally a late theater performance which was a benefit for some dopey cause or other that Lori never was quite able to understand-and after that party, she was in need of reality. She felt as if she had been immersed in the fantasy world of some dope addict or some total schizophrenic and that if she didn't get somewhere where people were people and there wasn't yards of golden tapestry and elegantly dressed society matrons, she would blow her stack. The Village seemed like the answer to that, and it was in Greenwich Village where she discovered Brutus.
The shop was hung with leather goods, handmade pocketbooks and stash bags with long rawhide streamers coming off them. There were leather hats, leather gloves, leather slacks, leather microskirts, leather vests with more fringed rawhide, and even a case of leather rings which the resident craftsman could fit to your finger. She was the only one in there, with a small boy, perhaps ten, who was sitting on a stool behind the counter.
"You want something?" the kid asked.
"You run the place?"
"Don't be a wise ass," he said.
That surprised her a little, and she burst out laughing. "You remind me of someone," she said.
"Yeah? Let me guess. Englebert Humperdinck."
"No," she said. "You remind me of me."
"Baby, I don't have your boobs," he said, so comically adult that she thought, for a short moment, he might even be a midget.
"You must gargle with piss in the morning," she said.
"You want to buy something?"
"You run the place?"
"No, boobs, I don't. But I am not going to call down old Brutus if you're only here to gawk. He doesn't like being disturbed, and that would sure disturb him."
"Brutus?"
"Yeah. He owns this-this thing here."
"Where would you call him down from?" she asked.
"Upstairs. Where he lives. He's up there writing now. In the middle of his first novel-and you know how shitty temperamental those artists can get."
"I would like one of these stash bags. And a leather ring," she said.
"So I'll call Brutus."
"You do that."
The kid hunched over, sucked in air, made a face as red as the satin lining of Satan's cape, then bellowed at the top of his lungs. "HOT PIECE OF CUNT DOWN HERE, BRUTUS!"
"Did you have to be that graphic?" she asked.
"Well, you are a hot piece of cunt."
"But did you have to tell the block?"
"See, boobs, if I didn't yell that, it would take him twenty minutes to get his ass down here. But when he thinks it's a chick come to see him and not a customer, he breaks balls to get down those steps."
Sure enough, there was an enormous crashing, booming noise as Brutus came down from his quarters on the second floor, charged through a very thick beaded curtain and into the store. He was at least six feet three, weighed two hundred and fifty, and had a beard that looked like something off a lumberjack, hair to his shoulders. He broke into a marvelous, wide-mouthed smile at the sight of her.
"Well, well, well," he said. "What can I do for such a beautiful little hunk of ass like you?"
"You come on strong, don't you," she said, nevertheless smiling at him. She was wondering what kind of cock a man that big would possess, and her hunger to be fucked grew as she considered how long she had gone without sex-the closest to it since Lenny's departure being the hand jobs she had given the man in the movie theater, and that had done nothing for her!
"It's the only way I know," he said.
"I'd like to buy a stash bag and a leather ring, if you're willing to wait on me first."
"First?" he asked, looking perplexed.
"For a man who comes on strong, you surely don't pick up all the dropped clues, do you, Brutus?"
He scratched his head, looked at the kid, who shrugged and continued to watch with interest.
"I'll buy the stash bag and the ring before we go upstairs," she said, illuminating the situation.
"Hey!" Brutus said, clapping his big hands together. "That's a deal, little bit. That sure is a deal!"
He showed her several pieces of work done by Village artisans, finally sold her a six dollar stash bag and a nine dollar leather ring, which he cut and fitted in less than five minutes, his huge hands moving far more dexterously than she would have imagined possible.
Then they went upstairs ...
His pad was a gorgeous one, though decorated quite simply. The walls were a chipped, clean beige, with borders of walnut from when that wood had been plentiful and therefore cheap. The furniture was a conglomeration of things designed and hand-crafted by young Village artisans, things too beautiful and strange ever to be found in the standard furniture store. It had exactly what Lena and Martin's townhouse lacked: character.
When they began kissing, it was gently, and she found that his beard somehow did not get in her way, as she had feared it would. And when it did brush against her, it was not bristly and harsh, but soft and flowing, like hair which grows out of the scalp. She thought he must use some sort of fabric softener or something on it, and she was pleased with that idea-for it indicated that he was considerate of his lovers and wished them to have as good a time as he had.
She dropped hands to his waist and unbuckled his trousers, pulled them down, with his shorts, and worked them off his legs, along with his sandals.
"I like you already," he said. "You have absolutely no pretentions at all. An honest chick, at last."
"I like to get fucked as much as you'll like fucking me," she said. "If that's what you mean."
"That's what I mean," he said, chuckling.
His cock was straining up, hard and quivering like a lance about to be thrust at its target. She grasped it in her hands and knelt on the floor before him. "You're big."
"Not so."
"Yes, yes. Nice and big and fat," she said. She sucked as much of him into her pretty mouth as she could manage, her lovely, soft cheeks bulging with the probing purple knob of his steel dong. Her saliva ran down his shaft and slimed his balls, great and sparsely haired globes that smelled faintly of sperm, as if he had fucked someone recently and had not bothered to wipe up the overflow. The odor quite excited her.
"Let's sixty-nine," she suggested, letting the fat cock out of her mouth, the pleasant fleshy taste lingering on her tongue and making her want fucked more than ever.
They went onto the bed, which was in the next room, pressed together, the warmth of their bodies mingling magically, spiritually as well as physically, causing his dick meat to stiffen beyond mere steelness, stiffen into something as yet unknown, some alloy so tough and unbreakable that there was no name for it. The hot bone lay on her belly and pulsed as they kissed and fondled each other with loving care and mutual enjoyment for the foreplay of sex. She mashed her hot, round tits into his chest, and he went down, suckled her lovely nipples, kissed her flat belly, licked her nearly invisible thatch of thick yellow fuckmound hairs, the delightful delta of her seething cuntpie until they were soaked. Then he found the ripe and blood-filled labes of her cunt, licked the outer rolls of pink-brown flesh with his quick tongue until little Lori Phillips was writhing sensuously on the crinkled sheets, opening her soaked slot to the further insistent probing of his tongue, to the nibbling ecstasy of his teeth, the flow of his hot and excited breath across the palpitating secrets of her woman's treasures, the inner fleshes of her fuckpit.
"Let me suck," she said, longing for the taste of that root which seemed to scar her tummy with its heat and gouge furrows in her with its swift pulsings.
He turned around, managing to keep his face down on her hairy bonehole, and pressed his male bag to her face. Lori rubbed his sac of balls all over her beautiful countenance, smelling the dried sperm, the deep, rich essence of his sexuality. She gasped as he licked between her spread thighs, then began licking his nuts until they were wet and shiny, gleaming with the highlights of the low illumination of the small room, where there were no windows and only one-apparently perpetually burning, lava lamp.
He struck suddenly deep with his tongue, mashing his entire face into the hot smell of her ripe and ready cunt area, sniffing her flowing sex juices that dripped down to lubricate her for the later plunge of his hard, cream-cored fuck-meat which now danced along her face in this oral love position. She bucked, bounced, pressed her young thighs together, around his woolly head as he ate, veritably gobbled, the treasured girlish quim which pulsed and ground and quivered so heavily with excitement that he could feel its movements on and against his loving tongue.
She left his balls, taking her main attention to the rest of his beautiful equipment which was dripping spittle and which hung wetly against her chin. Now his balls, also wet, flopped down on her neck, making her shudder with excitement as she grasped his pecker in her hand. She kissed it, licked off the inevitable swelling of come lubricant, then sucked the hot wang into her mouth again.
She liked to suck cocks, found that no more of a deviation than regular fucking. She knew there were the conservative types, the right-wing war hawks and anti-sex people who would be horrified at the thought of oral sex-or pretended to be publicly. To Lori, it was only another of God's blessings.
She drew Brutus' bloated meat deep into her mouth. It was salty at first, but it soon lost that taste as her mouth devoured the successive films upon it and as a thin trickle of more lubricant dribbled out of it and gave her that familiar bitter-sweet taste that she cherished so much. She wanted the big man to come in her mouth, to taste his hot load as it gushed out of the tiny little meatus slit and fountained into her. Each man, she had found, in her short experiences at sperm-tasting, was subtly different in taste from his fellows, though there were various types of come, various major categories. Just as a man's thoughts were the core of his personality and somewhat unique, a man's spunk was the core of his physical-sexual personality and also unique. She accepted his spunk as easily as his thoughts and loved them equally.
As Brutus ate the lovely girl's lovebox, guzzling the almost unbelievable quantity of sex juices, he felt her spasm and heard a cry of sheer delight catch in her throat as her lithe body responded with a wild, kicking climax, full and heady and marvelously deep within her cute, bouncing cunt. He attacked her dripping hole with more force than ever, sucking it into his mouth, chewing her awfully hard and long clit, which was an even bigger bud than Lisa's had been. She came again, throwing her legs around his neck. He contented himself, then, with licking her tenderly and allowing her to work at drawing the jism from his smooth, almost hairless nuts which she desired more ardently than any girl he had ever seen, as if come were the single food that sustained her.
Lori sucked his tool deep, gurgling happily as she felt a preliminary pulse in the long hunk of fucker, a pulse which was surely the first of many leading toward that enormous swelling which preceded each blast of a man's thick wad. She sucked harder, ran one hand down his thigh, which made him groan. The other hand was at his balls, her little, perfect fingers working them with amazing dexterity and ingenuity, flopping them from side to side of the bag, rolling them gently together, pushing them against the pre-pubescent socket ...
Then the nuts quivered ...
She giggled with his length of steaming, dripping meat still lodged between her lips.
She sucked harder.
She felt the balls draw on their cords, crawling halfway up his drooping sac.
Coming ...
Soon now ...
Thick and tasty ...
She wanted him badly.
She pumped the base of his prick with her small fist while sucking and licking the knob, working and working as expertly as any girl whose mouth had been the receptacle for his love organ-and, he thought as waves of passion and climax burst over him, as good as any girl, anytime, ever would suck him!
Now ... she thought.
Soon ...
His jizz showered put in thick clods of silken, creamy wetness, heavy curds of beautiful joy, which she licked quickly into her mouth so that there would be room for more, swallowing, swallowing, savoring the smell and taste ...
He groaned, rammed dick into her mouth, almost gagging her.
She continued to pump him furiously, happily, and he continued to supply her with the pudding of his testicles, the thick dessert she wished.
Later, when his powers had returned, they did other things as well to pass the New York City afternoon in a bubble of peace and joy and deep contentment ...