Chapter 6
John's phone rang just as he stepped out of the shower. He had worked all day, but he felt great, because he had just made a date with Dee for Saturday night. Now, who would be calling? It was after nine o'clock. Could it be Dee, wanting to cancel their date?
He walked to the telephone and lifted the receiver. He said hello and a feminine voice answered. For one wild moment he thought it was Dee. But no.
"Is this John?" came the cozy voice.
"Yes ..."
"This is Rita, honey. I hope you have a private line."
"Yeah, sure," he answered, his prick tightening, Rita, the young whore. She hadn't been pulling his cock after all.
"Look, I got a night off," she went on, intimately. Why don't we have a few drinks and party?"
All of a sudden, he had too many dames. He had half-promised Nell Winter he would drop up and see her, and he knew what that would mean. A wild toss in the sack. She had come down during the day and had cleaned his apartment; he owed her something besides the rent.
Rising above everything else was the date with Dee Evans. Even though he wouldn't get her in bed, the mere idea of taking a girl out was tremendously exciting. She was single, available and he had a terrific crush on her.
But, on the other hand, Rita was the first girl he had ever screwed; she had favored him with extra delights, He couldn't deny the lure of her body, no matter how many men had been there before him. He weakened, cock was hardening; the memory of her was much too vivid. Dee might back out at the last moment. Nell had her treats the day before. Sure," he said, at last.
"Oh, good." she breathed. "You know that motel on edge of town, the Evergreen?" He remembered it. "Yes."
"Look, honey. I rented a spot so I could have a few days of rest. Number fourteen. See you there soon, huh?"
"Right," he said, shivering with anticipation, When Rita opened the door for him, as he stepped hesitantly inside, his trousers began pushing out in front. She looked terribly sexy in a black undie affair, a kind of nightie. Beneath that wispy thing she wore shiny black panties and a red and black bra that exposed her nipples! Her makeup was heavy, exquisitely applied. Her full mouth was very red, and her dark nipples had been reddened.
"Man alive!" he burst out.
She closed the door, locked it, and wiggled in front of him, posing prettily.
"I fixed myself up just for you, honey," she smiled, weaving her shoulders. "Do you like my tits?"
"Man, I never saw a bra like that." he said. His prick was as hard as a board.
She giggled. "Let's have a few drinks and celebrate, honey." She glanced down at his pants. "I'm glad I'm turning you on."
He flushed. He would have to stop that. After all, she wasn't the only dame he had bedded. Women found him appealing; his confidence was growing. There was something very immoral and dirty about dating a prostitute; out of all the men around town she had taken on, she had picked him for her pleasures. His chest swelled.
I can learn how to operate from her. He thought Before long I'll be a man of the world.
"Take off some clothes and be comfortable, honey," she cooed. "I'll mix some drinks. Tonight I want to swing."
He shuddered. The alluring twitch of her ass, as she walked to a side table and began handling glasses and bottles, fired his passion. He removed his sport shirt with shaking fingers. She stood so that he could look at the sexy pout of her bare, pointed tits; the bra accented them, bringing them far out.
Would Dee ever wear such an outfit? he wondered, fleetingly. No. She was a nice girl. Well, he was far from being tied down to any dame. He had to sow some wild oats, didn't he?
Mesmerized by her body, her pretty, sensual face, he slid out of his trousers. He kicked his shoes off. His cock was riding out against his briefs. "That's better." she laughed. She brought the highballs and sat them on a small table in front of a sofa. The huge bed, in soft shadow behind the sofa, would soon be sighing and creaking.
She drew him down on the couch; she snuggled up at his left, breathing on his neck, rubbing her naked thigh against his leg. His hand shook as he grasped the glass. waves of seductive perfume awakened his senses.
I'm not really a pro, John," she murmured, her eyes tanning over his face. "I live in Spokane, I work winters a bowling alley, and summers here. Is that too awful?"
"No." he said, surprised. She was just a part-time whore.
She patted his leg and sipped at her drink. "You're a very special young fellow, honey." Seepage from his prickhead was wetting his shorts, her left hand she reached over and eased his cock free of the white cotton cloth. She caressed his moistened knob, her thigh pressing harder. "How old are you, honey?" she murmured. "Twenty-five," he lied, as he always did. He was beginning to believe it himself. "Oh, you aren't either," she giggled. "But it's okay, I bet you're only about eighteen."
He managed a laugh. He gulped at his drink. He. needed it, badly.
"Well, if you think so."
"Play with me, honey," she sighed, half-turning arching her tits toward him, opening her thighs. "Kiss me, hard. I don't get that, you know."
Sure, he knew. Whores didn't mouth-kiss their customers. She had been very generous on Saturday night. In her work she got plenty of hard-core sex, but no elaborate lovemaking; she was evidently starved for that.
He finished his highball and slid his left arm around her shoulders. His right hand lifted to the opened, lacy nightie. She uptilted her red, parted lips, her tongue wiggling invitingly between them. His fingers closed around a tit; she shivered as their mouths met. Her tongue swept between his teeth, it stroked and stroked Her fingers danced up and down on his rigid prick. She softened all over, swinging her right leg over his bare knees. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her fancy, black panty; the spread of her white thighs was terribly provocative.
Then he saw something else. The panty had no crotch. It was just decoration. Pussy hair showed at the opening, and as she continued to plunge her tongue into his eager mouth, she curved her hips outward. She wanted her pussy fondled. Man, how sexy could it be? He was shaking and shivering, his prick was tingling, his balls were pulling up.
He cupped and pressed her tits before he dropped his hand to that alluring pussy-curve. She moaned into his mouth; she nibbled at his lips, and when his hand settled on her cunt she wiggled her hips.
Now, she drew his foreskin back from his swollen knob, her fingertips caressing it gently, provocatively.
As he caressed the moistened slit, feeling her tremors of rising excitement, her mouth swerved away and she panted.
"Honey, let me go down on it."
He trembled, already on the edge of coming. He nodded, and she moved quickly onto her knees in front of him. She opened his legs, her dark-haired head moved between, her lips pouted, they contacted the head of his cock.
What a sensation, what a way to go. She was sucking his prick. The men he worked with often had a whore to do this, because they couldn't get it at home; some wives didn't like it.
The heated lips surrounded his cock and it went deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. Her head Moved slowly up and down. Her tongue was coiling across his knob quickly, pulling thrill after thrill from his cock.
She moaned, his prick swelled, his hips swung higher, he felt the quick, hot pulsing of his orgasm. Spurt after spurt left his cockhead. She whipped her mouth furiously on his cockshaft, and then her throat was convulsing. She was swallowing his come. He shouted his pleasure. "Uhhhhh! Damn, damn." His excitement diminished, he slumped back on the cushions, panting. She lifted her mouth from his prick, smiling.
"I had to have your come, honey!" She breathed a deep sigh and swung around to his left. "How would you like a nice surprise?"
"What do you mean, Rita?" he asked. White juice was leaking from his sex hole. Her dark eyes were wide with excitement. Her thighs were far apart again, her nipples were stiff.
"Wouldn't you like to have two girls tonight, honey?"
He blinked, he shook his head in wonderment. "Two?"
"Wouldn't that be fun? I know you can handle us." "But I thought-" What kind of deal was this?" "Honey, you're a lot of man. I want you to have all kinds of kicks. I've got a very cute, young blonde, all ready for action." "You mean a-" He couldn't finish. Rita laughed. "Yes, she works where I do. She got a look at you the other night. She's really fun."
One surprise after another. He had heard of orgies with two dames and one man. Some of the lumberjacks often hired two whores instead of one. It was the swinging thing, evidently. Well, what did he have to lose? He wasn't paying.
"Where is this blonde?" he asked, still doubtful.
"Okay, Sandy, make your entrance," Rita called.
John swung his head. From another room, a dark ened doorway, came a plump, young girl with long, golden blonde hair. She wore a very thin, yellow wrapper, and a shiny black panty, nothing else. Her rounded, generous tits jiggled as she walked. The pink spikes poked at the yellow covering. Her rosebud mouth was painted carmine.
"I like it, I like it." She giggled, staring at John's rigid prick. "I've been watching and I'm really turned on, honey."
Something snapped in his brain. The cheapness of the whole thing dug into his conscience. He couldn't do it! Too much was too much. However, he didn't want to cause a big scene; all he wanted to do was get out and return to his apartment.
"Right," he grinned. "Say, I left a bottle out in my car. I'll go get it."
Both girls nodded. He slipped into his pants, leaving his shirt over the back of a chair. He unlocked the door and moved outside. Yes, he had his car keys. He heard the young whores laughing.
His cock cooled, he jumped in his car, started the motor. He jammed the lever into R, and burned rubber, the door opened, a dark face was framed in the seductive light. He wheeled his car around and beat it. Stinking broads! He was learning how to swing, but he wasn't ready for their kind of orgy, just yet. When he reached home, he began to feel almost sick. He undressed and wrapped a robe around his body. His cock was limp, he felt limp all over. No more prostitutes. He felt disgusted, empty.
The blonde had peeped while Rita had sucked his cock. Maybe she had watched on Saturday night. He cursed and wondered exactly why he hadn't gone ahead. Most men would have jumped at the chance to spend the night with two pretty, sensual dames, even whores. Suddenly he heard footfalls and a light rapping on his door. He knew already who it was. Nell Winter, the lonely widow, his landlady.
"Come in," he said, listlessly. He sank into a chair.
"I thought I heard you drive up," Nell said, almost before she was inside. She was attractively dressed in a her short-skirted frock; she wore nylons and heels. Her dark eyes had a hungry gleam.
"My, you look down at the mouth, honey," she said, taking a chair that faced the sofa. "Did you work awfully hard today?" Her tone was intimate, possessive.
"No, it isn't that," he said.
"Why don't you come up and I'll mix you a nice hot toddy."
Her thighs were partially open; he could see up under her frock, where nylon ended and soft, white flesh began. His passion was reawakening. One orgasm hadn't really satisfied his hunger. He had fucked her before, and she wanted it again; it was written all over her. He had already thanked her for cleaning his apartment; that wasn't in the rental agreement.
He rose to his feet and moved over beside the chair. He leaned down, staring at the tits under her bodice. He inhaled her perfume. Reaching down, he sank his fingers into her covered tit.
"Ohhh, John." she breathed, shivering. Her reddened lips parted. "Kiss me, please."
Some of this new confidence flamed through his being. To hell with being bashful all the time. She craved him and she was going to get the works. The urgency that had built in his cock, at the motel, was rekindled. She was no whore, she was a lonely, man-starved widow. Why turn it down?
He dropped his mouth onto her eager, upturned lips; her arms wound around his neck; he felt her shiver of pleasure, her gratitude.
Nell began to feel more than repaid for all her work and scheming. She had bought a new frock, just for him, she had tidied up his apartment. The muscles in her legs and back and cunt still were rather sore from her lusty pleasure of the day before; she hadn't used them for years and years. But what a wonderful soreness.
I have to have him between my legs again, she thought, reaching for his cock. I can't think of anything else. He's so hungry for it, just like me. I want to show him everything I know. I wonder what he'd say if I didn't charge him any rent.
As he kissed her and played with her tits, she caught a faint whiff of perfume that certainly wasn't hers. She had heard him go out, earlier, and she had felt very badly about it. He hadn't been gone over an hour, though. Where had he been? Obviously he was seeing some young girl. Competition.
But he hadn't made out with the girl or he wouldn't have returned so quickly. The girl had left him frustrated. There had been a look of anger on his face, he had acted very upset, when she had first entered the apartment. Well, she could take care of his sexual needs.
She accepted the strokes of his tongue with eager abandon. She fingered the luscious cock in his trousers. She spread her thighs so he could play around under her skirt, moaning her delight.
One of these days a bright, young, sexy girl would latch onto him and Nell's holiday would be over. She had to get all of his passion while it was still available. Time was flying. It had to be now.
His mouth lifted and she whispered. "Honey, let's go upstairs."
He nodded. Now she smelled liquor on his breath. That was making him more reckless. Good. They could have more drinks; she was always more abandoned after she had had a few highballs.
"Oh, I'm glad you came back, John," she murmured, as he stepped away. "I thought you went out on a date."
"It didn't turn out," he muttered, flushing. "I won't play games with you," she said, breathing fast. "I've got a bottle of good whiskey, too."
"Right," he muttered. "Let's go."
Moments later they were in her living room, and she was serving him a strong highball. Hers was just as loaded with whiskey. She wished desperately that she was younger and more attractive, but the lights were down low and she had made herself as appealing as she knew how. If he ever overcame his shyness, he would be a terror with the women, young or old.
She sank down at his left, on the big sofa. While mixing the drinks she had loosened the top of her dress so her big tits would be handily reached; that very afternoon she had bought several lacy, front-opening bras and some fancy, colored bikini panties. She had to use every trick in the book.
"John, I'm terribly sorry your date didn't please you Do I know her?"
"I don't think so," he murmured. "They call her Legs Evans."
She had some sort of idea that he was fibbing, that he had been out with someone else, but she recovered swiftly.
"Why, yes. I know Dee. A very nice, young girl, I would say."
I shouldn't have brought this up, she thought. I'm too nosy. Now I'm horribly jealous.
In such a small town, she was aware of almost everyone's coming and goings. She knew that Dee had left the Wall house and had taken an apartment down near the city center. How had he ever met Dee? She was such a backward kind of girl, never dated.
"These young girls are very flighty," Nell said. "You can do anything you want to with me, and you won't have to worry or fret. Do you like that?"
"Man, I sure do," he exclaimed. He gulped the rest of his drink. She set her glass aside, waiting eagerly for his hands, his mouth. Sweet waves of yearning burned through her body. His mouth mashed into hers, his right hand swooped into her opened bodice, his fingers cupped a tingly tit. She moaned and softened, rubbing her leg against his thigh, her hand returning to his cock.
This was what she needed, loving and cuddling before the toss in the bed. The hot buildup, the seeking hands and mouth. A life-long craving that had never been satisfied with her late husband or with any man raged through her body. I want to go down on him, I want him to kiss me between the legs. I'm a greedy old slut, but I don't care. Will he do it? Oh, I need everything. But the tops is when he slides his big, hot prick into my cunt! Ohhhh, I hope he stays all night. Dee may get him later, but right now he wants me.
When his mouth pulled away, she whispered throatily. "My bra comes apart in front, honey. Open it and really play with my tits."
He shuddered, he fumbled with her bulging bra, and she helped him. In seconds her bodice was wide open, her big, hard tits were pushing out, bare and stiff-nippled.
"Man." he panted, caressing her tit-flesh.
Nell did something she hadn't ever done with her husband. She weaved her shoulders and urged her tits out even farther. John's eyes bugged with surprise, delight. His roving hand trembled. She could see already that sexy talk excited him, so why not give him all the thrills she possibly could?
"Ohhh, you're making my pussy real hot, honey," she breathed. "Play with it, too."
John shook with mounting desire. Nell was unzipping his pants, reaching inside. In seconds she was easing his rock-hard cock out in the open. Man, this was something. She was waving her tits, talking wildly. He was learning how to fondle a pair of tits. She was sexier than she had been the day before.
I'm glad I didn't stay with those young whores, he thought. Nell is older. She probably knows more than they do.
"Oh, please kiss my nipples and feel my legs, honey," she gasped. She spread her thighs farther apart and tipped her hips high. Her hand was sliding slowly up and down on his cock.
He lowered his head to her tits, he took a dark nipple in his lips, remembering how it had been with Rita on Saturday night. He wasn't paying for this, though. Nell appreciated it more; she wasn't anybody's plaything. Her shudders of delight were more enthralling. She hadn't had a man for years-.
"Oh." Nell panted, pushing her tit into his face.
He dropped his right hand between her open thighs, finding the bare, warm flesh. Her pelvis arched toward his fingers, her grip on his prick tightened. Waves of tremors passed along her generous body. His shaking hand reached her cunt, he pressed the pantied cunt, feeling wetness.
"Ohhh!" she cried, fiercely. Her hips went back and forth. "You're bringing me, honey! Mmmmm!"
His prick swelled, he felt the wild passion tearing along his legs, toward his balls, his hips lurched. Her cries of pleasure, her shudders and lusty movements triggered his orgasm.
Suddenly, she moved even more dramatically. Her head and shoulders swung over, above his cock, she was taking his prick in her mouth. Just as the passion erupted from his knob, her lips slid over his prickhead; her head went swiftly up and down, and the stinging spurts of his joy were answered by a swift lurching of her hips against his palm.
Her moan of completion, as her body quaked, the sweet suction of her mouth on his cock, drew a fierce cry from his throat.
"Ahhh! Oh, damn!"
For the second time in one evening he was gushing his load into a dame's mouth. He had more or less expected it from a whore, but this was so startlingly novel, from a man-starved widow, he could hardly believe his senses.
Her head continued to rise and fall, her tongue was active around his cock. Her hips finally stopped thrusting. She lifted her mouth from his cock and slumped back on the sofa, eyes closed, her face highly pinked, her lips parted.
"Oh, John, John," she breathed, digging her fingers into his thigh. "Was it good for you, honey?"
"Man, you know it!" he panted. He watched the last oozings from his still-puffy knob. His cockshaft was still very rigid.
"I just couldn't wait," she murmured, opening her eyes and staring at him adoringly.
"I couldn't wait, either," he said, keeping his hand under her dress.
"Ohhh, I'm so glad you understand." she said. "I'm so glad we can talk about it. You're such a wonderful, young fellow."
John was humbled by her passionate responses and thrilling cooperation. She was more desirable all the time. But how could he continue with a woman as old as she was? He couldn't marry her. He wanted a younger girl, like Dee.