Chapter 3
The entrance to Rita's and Gene's huge house was impressive, Large stone lions and rubber plants in enormous urns stood on either side of the wide double doorway. Gene led the slightly weary group inside, then turned on the lights and the stereo. Hard rock music-The Mothers of Invention, Roger guessed-filled the enormous room. A ten-stool bar ran along one wall, and a gigantic flagstone fireplace with a copper hood dominated the room. There was thick, red shag-rug carpeting, wall to wall-and through the sliding glass doors the view of the patio and pool was breathtaking. Lighted now, the kidney-shaped swimming pool glowed like a gem in the night.
"You'll notice, ladies and gentlemen," Gene said, assuming the role of a tour guide, "that there are plenty of pads and blankets stacked there in the corner. There are five bedrooms in all-two downstairs and three upstairs-but for those who may wish to sprawl and play, sleep or whatever, the pads and blankets are available for games on the floor. Outdoors, too, you will find the patio furniture comfy and capable of accommodating two or more, people. The pool is heated, of course, and I maintain it at seventy-five degrees. Many of you will wish to form groups in the water, particularly tomorrow. Feel free to come and go as you choose and take your pleasure as you desire. Be careful with your cigarettes, however. Any questions?"
He scanned the group. There were no questions. "Very well," he said, "Rita, if you'll prepare the beverages, I will show our guests around the house."
Rita left the room and went toward the kitchen.
"Follow me," Gene instructed.
Roger stayed toward the rear of the group. Up in front he saw the delectable Greta holding hands with a young college student wearing a faded sweatshirt that bore the name Something-Or-Other State. Roger couldn't make out the lettering.
Their first stop of the guided tour was at the largest fish tank Roger had ever seen. It was filled with tropical fish, miniature submarines, mermaids, deep-sea divers emitting streams of bubbles, treasure chests, and sunken Spanish ships.
"This is the most fantastic place I've ever seen," Denise said, beside him now.
Roger turned. She still looked a mess, her hair disheveled and her clothing wrinkled as she gaped up at the high beam ceiling and the wide, carpeted stairway that obviously led to the upper floor.
"Yes, it's really something," Roger agreed. "Incidentally, I saw you and Rita outside next door-on the swing. You really seemed to be enjoying yourself."
She flushed slightly. "Yes, I guess I did. It was-it was a different experience all right. I had no idea that Rita-"
"I had no idea about you either." Roger again found himself feeling possessive. With difficulty, he forced the picture from his mind of Rita making love to Denise, the memory of her ecstatic and moaning response. "Do you think you'll ever like men again?" He tried to keep his voice pleasant.
Denise reached down and gently squeezed his crotch. "Of course I will. Don't be silly. You're not angry, are you?"
"No," he said, "I just found the scene highly informative." Somehow, her fondling his crotch lessened whatever harshness had been in his voice a second earlier.
"Let's just have fun," she said, redirecting her gaze again to the aquarium that teemed with fish. "We'll have this crazy, wild weekend and then we'll settle back to our private thing, okay?"
Denise was right, Roger knew. That's what they had attended the party for. He turned his attention also to the aquarium.
"These fish are very delicate and require constant attention," Gene was saying. "You'll notice that algae eater-the one with the huge mouth lapping at the glass. He's a most important part of tank life. He performs the specialized role of keeping everything clean. In this community of fish life he is just as essential to life in this tank as firemen and policemen are to human existence. He has a longer, technical name which I never can remember." He laughed. "Notice its full lips and how the others move away."
A murmur ran through the group. There were even a few cheers.
"We call this fish Yolanda," he said, amused.
"Why Yolanda?" somebody asked.
Gene made a low, almost secretive chuckle. "Wait," he said. "Everything comes to him who waits. Let's proceed upstairs, shall we?"
They followed Gene upstairs, then down a long hallway and into a bedroom with a gigantic, circular bed. There was a cordless, battery-powered vibrator on one of the nightstands and various jars of creams and lotions. Over against the wall, by the wide, curtained window there were whips made of leather and other materials and coils of rope. There were dildos, too.
"This will be Tina's room," Gene said. "Anyone is free to visit Tina at any time during the weekend, but you must knock first-in the event she is busy. If she is unoccupied, she will be glad to admit you. If she does not answer, you must wait your turn. As you can see, the door has a bolt on the inside. Any questions?"
"Why the bolt?" Greta asked. "What happens here?"
Again Gene only chuckled. "Think of this room as the room where dreams come true. Male or female, Tina will satisfy any and every yearning or whim you might dream up. I suggest you give any request you might make of Tina considerable thought. She delights in pleasing you, but she tires of unimaginative and ordinary requests. Tina?"
"Yes?" answered an attractive girl who had been standing silently in the room.
"This is Tina," Gene said. "Remember, Tina enjoys making you happy, so let your imaginations run free. Do you have all the paraphernalia and costumes you need?"
"Yes, I think so," she said.
"Good. Good. Let us know if there is anything you need."
"Thank you, Gene," she said graciously. "I shall."
"Tina has been absent for several years. Good to have you back, dear," Gene said.
Roger had seen Tina earlier, watching quietly from a distance at the sex games next door. She was beautiful and reminded him of a fashion model-breasts not overly large; tall and slim but shapely with an almost aristocratic face and bearing. She was a platinum blonde and, Roger guessed, not more than twenty-five or six. Somehow he couldn't picture her wielding a whip or performing in any way other than that of a typical so-called "normal" girl. He would have to wait and see.
"Now, if you'll all step this way," Gene said, leading them from the room and down the long hallway once again. This orgy was shaping up to be considerably different from the past two orgies he'd attended, Roger thought. Of course it had been over a year since he'd been at Rita's and Gene's. They'd had time to refine and improve their sex parties!
Now the party entered another bedroom, much like the previous one, except the king-size bed was rectangular and there were only jars of lubricants and three vibrators-no whips, dildos, or other paraphernalia.
"This is where our sex team, Yolanda, Doris, and Patti, will spend their nights with which ever male they might select. The door is never bolted. Anybody who so desires may watch them in operation if he or she wishes."
The third bedroom, Gene explained, would be open to anybody at anytime except at bedtime when Gene preferred to sleep alone. "At least part of the time," he added, winking, still playing the role of the friendly tour guide.
A chime rang then. "Ah, Rita has the beverages ready," Gene said. "Well, you've seen the place now. Make yourselves at home. We won't be serving meals, but you'll find all the food and drink you need in the kitchen. Let's go downstairs now."
In the living room, they all sat on the pads which Gene tossed on the floor. Then Rita served the "beverages."
"This is a concoction designed to maintain stamina," Gene said. "It's raw egg, skim milk, and wheat germ. Salute!" They downed their drinks, then Gene turned off the music and the lights. Only a faint, rose-colored bulb glowed at one end of the room. "Good night," he said. "See you all in the morning," and he went upstairs.
Everyone snuggled up inside blankets on the floor-some in pairs, trios, others alone. Tina, carrying herself like a princess, along with Yolanda, Doris, and Patti, went upstairs to their respective rooms. Roger found himself under the same blanket with Denise.
"Is it all right for people who come to the party together to sleep together?" Denise asked.
"Why not?" Roger said. "You do whatever you want."
"Good," she said. "I'm exhausted."
"I can imagine why," Roger said. "Rita really did you in, right?"
She didn't answer, and in a minute her breathing became rhythmic as she drifted off to sleep. The moonlight streamed into the room through the glass sliding doors. Everyone seemed to be going to sleep and he wondered why he felt a vague restlessness. He remembered what Gene had said about the algae-eating fish named Yolanda. He wondered if there was any connection between the fish and the Yolanda who belonged to the "sex trio" of Yolanda, Doris, and Patti. Yolanda did have very full lips. Maybe that was the connection. Yes, Yolanda's lips were full and it was some kind of inside joke, he thought.
Then, at first barely distinguishable, he made out the silhouette of someone-yes, he was certain it was a woman because she was naked and he could see her full breasts as she tiptoed into the room-kneeling down beside one of the pads. There was a faint groan from someone, as though he had been disturbed in his sleep, then silence. The figure moved again--to another pad. There came the same kind of groan and, again, silence.
The figure moved that way, stealthily, from person to person, male and female. Finally, in the dim light, Roger saw that it was Yolanda. She was at the pad beside his own now, where young Denny slept. Roger propped himself up on one elbow now and watched Yolanda carefully raise the blanket from Denny, then lower her head to his genitals. For what seemed two or three minutes her head bobbed and Roger could hear wet, lapping sounds. Denny did not move, but lay there passively until Yolanda had finished. Then he moaned, as though in a dream, and turned over on his stomach.
God, she's insatiable! Roger thought, not believing his eyes, and then Yolanda Was kneeling beside him! Ever so gently, she pulled back the part of the blanket that covered him, lowered his shorts, and began applying her tongue to his stomach, his navel and pubic area. Her tongue worked incredibly, like that of a highly trained craftsman, as she lapped, licked, and laved. Skillfully, she pulled his foreskin back and continued her mission.
Then he felt her hot mouth feasting on his semirigid cock, her tongue twirling noisily as she cleansed every pore of his organ. By the time she reached his balls, his prick stood rigid and dripping. She returned to his prick then, until the fresh lubricant was gone, drained dry, then again worked on his scrotum thoroughly. She licked that way expertly, all the way down to his knees before she put her head close to his.
"You're the only one who isn't completely limp," she whispered, jacking his rigid penis. "Shall I finish you?"
Roger felt tempted to say yes, but he forced himself to say, "No-no, thanks. I-I think I'd better get to sleep... uh, thanks, Yolanda."
"Okay then," she whispered. "You're nice and clean now."
She lifted the part of the blanket that covered Denise. Roger caught her wrist. "Why don't you skip her?" he said. "She said she was tired and wanted to sleep."
"That's all right," Yolanda said. "She still needs cleaning. She won't feel it. Please?"
"No, I think you'd better skip her," Roger said.
"Whatever you say," she said. "I have to go. There are others. Good night."
"Good night," Roger said.
Now Roger knew why they called the algae fish, Yolanda. He turned over on his side, determined to go to sleep. Minutes passed and he found himself still awake, inexplicably restless. Damn Yolanda! he thought. Everybody was asleep but him-him and his throbbing erection. The algae girl-Mrs. Clean-had got him all excited again. Oddly, he found his thoughts turning to the aristocratic Tina upstairs. He wondered if she was asleep. Again, he tried for sleep, but he couldn't get the vision of Tina's face from his mind. Such depth! And what did she do that was so special?
He toyed with the idea of waking Denise- even jacking off. No, he didn't want to wake Denise, and jacking off in this house would be like eating bread and water when you were surrounded by steaks! Just then, he sighted another figure in the semidarkness. He could tell it was not Yolanda, but it was a woman. Rita!
Feigning sleep, Roger watched as Rita bent down and nudged Denise. "Wake up, my precious," she coaxed. "It's Rita, dear. Wake up. Shhh. I want you for breakfast, love."
Denise sighed, allowing Rita to help her to her feet. Then, hand-in-hand, Rita led Denise off into the darkness toward the stairway. To hell with it, Roger thought, wondering why he hadn't stopped Rita as he had Yolanda. It seemed pretty obvious that Rita and Denise were becoming an inseparable twosome. Well, let them. Denise had promised they would return to "normality" after this wild weekend, hadn't she?
Right now, all Roger could think of was Tina's delicious cunt going to waste upstairs. Hell, she hadn't even been fucked yet tonight. He wanted her. He wanted to stick his hard-on right in the middle of the mysterious Tina's gushing snatch. He threw the blanket aside, got up, crossed the room, and tiptoed up the stairs.
Going down the hall en route to Tina's room, he heard moaning. He paused outside Gene's bedroom. The desperate pleas he heard were unmistakably those of Denise, and the two other voices were those of Gene and Rita.
"Hold her," Rita said, "while I get this thing on. I'm going to fuck her with this dildo until she can't stand up. Hold her still, I said! Once I get this inside her she'll change her tune. I'll have her sucking you off in a matter of minutes."
"I'm holding her," Gene said. "What do you want me to do, break her neck?"
"She's never gotten fucked with a cock this size," Rita rasped. "You can believe that. I wanted to screw her dog-style the minute I saw her, but I didn't have this little instrument handy and a swing's too wobbly anyway."
"Ohhhh, please don't," Denise cried. "Rita, it's so big. Where did you get it? Please, it's too big."
"Don't worry, honey," Rita insisted. "It'll fit your juicy cunt just fine. There. It's almost in now. Good, now I can fuck you, my sweet baby. You like it, huh? You like this big rubber dick inside you?"
Roger listened while Denise's voice changed from fear and pain to cries of ecstasy. Well, Roger thought, she wanted a wild weekend and now she's getting it. She'll appreciate a real cock when they get through with her.
"Rita, Rita-Oh, fuck it," Denise said now.
"Put Gene's cock in your mouth now, baby," Rita instructed. There was a slapping sound. "Put his cock in your mouth, I said!" Rita screamed harshly.
For just an instant, Roger felt tempted to end their session, but then he collected himself. They wouldn't really hurt her, he thought. They're just giving her a good lesson. From how on, Denise would stick close to him-like a calf with its mother. Sure.
"How do you like it with two cocks in you, baby?" Rita asked. "Pretty soon Gene's going to come in your mouth while I'm slamming it to you with this thing."
"Hey, I'm ready," Gene said. "I'm going off. Yeah... yeah. Swallow it all, Denise... yeah. Slam it harder to her, Rita."
Roger could literally hear Denise's muffled swallowing sounds as Gene reached his climax. It was quiet now, the thrashing sounds and voices silent. Again, Roger felt mixed emotions. He still wanted Denise for himself, but his prick stood out stiff as a stalk of corn.
"Let her rest awhile," Rita said. "Then you can give it to her in the rear. Ever had it in there, sugar?"
"No," Denise said. "I don't think I'd like it."
"Yes you will, sweet. We're going to teach you to like everything. Roger will adore you when we get through. You're learning one thing for sure. When the lights go out, the real action begins. That's when the pros go to work. Rest now, honey. Take a little nap if you want."
Roger shook his head and gazed down at his dripping dick. Well, he had problems of his own. There was the matter of Tina.
Roger made his way down the hallway toward Tina's room. He paused in front of the room Yolanda, Doris, and Patti occupied.
"Damn it, Yolanda, will you please stop it!" a girl's voice cried out impatiently. "How many times do I have to tell you? I just took a shower. I'm clean. Leave me alone, please! I'm clean! Go find somebody else."
"But they're all clean," Yolanda answered, her voice muffled, sad.
"Well then, you'll just have to wait until tomorrow," the voice said again. Roger couldn't tell whether it was Doris or Patti. "Now get your head up from beneath the covers and go to sleep. If you start lapping at me again I swear I'll kill you. I mean it."
Roger stifled a laugh as he moved on. Thus far, as near as he could tell, Yolanda had the most unusual fetish in the group. Cleanliness was a virtue, everybody said, but Yolanda had carried this maxim to the extreme. Yolanda was a human vacuum cleaner. At last, Roger reached Tina's door and, seeing the crease of light beneath it, his heartbeat raced wildly. She was still awake! He knocked softly. After what seemed an eternity, he heard the sliding of the inside bolt, a click, and then the door opened slightly.
"Yes," Tina said, peeking through the sliver of light. "Who is it?"
"It's Roger. Roger Theisen. I-I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd, well, wander around a bit. I noticed the light under your door."
"How observant of you," Tina replied, chuckling softly as she opened the door. "And is wandering around all you had in mind?" Her enormous eyes lowered and fixed on his exposed prick. "Hmm, I must say you certainly do come prepared, and you're circumcised, aren't you? I would have guessed you'd be uncircumcised. No matter. Come in Roger, won't you? I wasn't expecting visitors quite this soon but there are always the hyper inquisitive ones."
For the third time this evening, Roger suddenly felt ridiculous standing before somebody with his stiff prick hanging out. He had completely forgotten the fact as a result of the stimulation he'd received down the hall. To hell with it, he thought, and left his organ exposed and aiming at her like some weapon in readiness. Besides, the sight of her naked body, poised and graceful, her beckoning eyes, and the hollows beneath her cheeks, her somewhat small but perfectly proportioned breasts, and the swell of her hips and creamy texture of her flesh had him longing to have at her. He yearned to devour her, consume her, impale her on his organ and let his balls gush inside her and fill her with his semen.
Finally, he stopped gaping at her and stepped inside. She told him to sit down on the bed and she herself sat across the room from him in a chair, her legs crossed. The fact that she was every inch a "lady" who apparently performed unbelievable sex acts fascinated him -drove him crazy with curiosity. Even now, she sat there with a quizzical smile on her lips and her eyebrows raised questioningly, waiting.
"Why did you say you guessed I'd be uncircumcised?" Roger asked. He didn't know what else to say.
"Oh, I don't know. One develops a sixth sense after a while," she said. "Sometimes I'm wrong, of course. Why? Does it bother you?"
"Oh, no-no. I just wondered."
They sat there, looking at one another for a long time.
"So, have you already decided on something special you would like?"
"Not really," Roger said. "It's just you. I couldn't get my mind off you-what you're all about-everything about you."
"Ah, how sweet. You find me attractive then. Good. I must pay you a compliment, too. You have a magnificent scrotum-truly a splendid set of balls."
Roger stared down at his cock. He still wore his shorts. "You can tell -with my-my shorts on?"
"Naturally. There's a certain swell, a rise beneath the penis that the trained eye easily observes. Take your shorts off, would you? I'd like to study your testicles. Men's balls are beautiful. Sometimes I wish men would run around like dogs-you know, with their beautiful, beautiful little cluster of nuts wagging free in the breeze. Go ahead. Drop your shorts." Roger did.
"Ummm, yes. They are nice. Did you ever hurt them?"
"Just the usual," Roger said. "Wrestling or falling down on something, playing football -times like that."
Tina tensed slightly, leaning forward now, and there was an intense gleam in her eyes that Roger found baffling.
"It hurts when you hit them," she said. "Tell me about it. Describe how it feels. I want to hear all about it."
"Well, it really hurts," Roger said. "I mean I don't think there's anything quite like it."
"Go on," Tina said. She got up and came over and sat down on the bed beside him and began fondling his balls, tickling them, weighing them, appraising them. "I want to hear all about exactly how it hurts and where."
Roger was beginning to feel uneasy. Tina's hands were on his balls. She was talking about pain and there was that weird look on her face. He hoped she didn't think he liked to have his balls smacked. "I didn't come here for pain," he said.
"No, of course not," Tina said. "It's just that the topic intrigues me and also I'm trying to find out what you secretly desire the most. Answer my question, will you?"
"When they get hit the pain goes all the way up here"-Roger traced two lines with his fingers up his abdomen-"to my navel. It's awful. The pain is everywhere."
Tina pondered this a moment. "The best description of testicle pain," she said, "came from a Brazilian millionaire, Jiminez Krutch. Actually, he was German. He should have been a poet. His face contorted in pain and his voice rose -in agony as he described the feeling. I suppose I'll never get a better description than Jiminez's. That's where I've been for the past two years-traveling around the world with Jiminez and his freaky friends."
And then what Roger had feared, dreaded, struck like lightning. Tina's fondling fingers clamped like a vise on his balls for one horrible instant. She let go immediately, but his agonizing cry rose shrill and high and awful in the room, resounding from walls to ceiling to floor as the indescribable pain wrenched the lower half of his body. His first impulse was to knock her beautiful, sick head off with a single, backhand blow, but he restrained himself. Instead, he lay moaning, curled up on the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks.
And then Tina was all over him. "I know," she cooed. "I understand. Tina hurt them, and now Tina will make them feel good. You had no ideas, you see, so I thought I'd try the pleasure-pain syndrome out on you. Stay there. You've had your pain and now you're going to have more pleasure than you've ever dreamed of before. She left the room and went to the bathroom then.
Stay there! Roger thought. As if he could even move! "Bitch!" he muttered to himself. "Rotten crazy bitch!"
She returned and then he felt her massaging the small of his back with a hot, wet towel. When she reached for his balls with the towel he withdrew instinctively. But she coaxed him onto his back finally, assuring him that it was "pleasure time" and that there would be no more pain.
The warm towel did feel good and gradually his pain subsided. Tina applied the towel like a compress, and her head lay on his thigh so that she could stare at his organs as she soothed them. In a little while, her massaging actually felt good. Then she reached up for a jar of cream and applied the cool liquid to his penis, scrotum, and rectum. Next came the portable vibrator, which she applied to his back, then lower, lower, until the buzzing cylinder settled in the center of his rectum.
"I'm going to do something now you'll never forget," she purred, slowly inserting the greased vibrator into his ass as her tongue flicked about the head of his dripping cock. Now, with the vibrator inside him, the warm towel gently manipulating his balls and her mouth sipping at the head of his bulging erection, making noises like a straw when the glass is nearly empty, Roger thought he would go as mad with pleasure as he had before with pain. Every nerve and tissue of his body convulsed and his deep sobbing groans rose involuntarily until they were as loud as his previous shrieks of agony.
She had a way of sucking his shaft, too, that he had never experienced before. She withdrew hot water from the wet towel with her delicate mouth, then, applying her furnacelike lips to the base of his hard-on, worked her way upward in short, jerking movements until she reached the top and released the pressure. Each release of pressure brought forth a groan that Roger could not control. And the vibrator worked on... buzzing... buzzing... doing its work on his prick from the inside while Tina's jerking movements and twirling tongue drove his throbbing member to its own form of insanity in the oven of her expert mouth.
Roger began to see colors-brilliant, bold, rash hues crashing inside his skull, colliding and ricocheting wildly. And then the colors became sounds that became colors again before they exploded in a potpourri of white flame, like Fourth of July sparklers or a welder's torch. He wanted to fuck her, stick his dick in her cunt and fuck her, fuck her, but she wouldn't turn-wouldn't budge-and then he finished and the seed and the root blossomed, ran tickle-gouging up and out and spurting and everything went black...
He awoke on the floor, the bedspread entwined about him. As his eyes slowly opened, he took in the texture of the rug. Then the faintly dusty aroma of the carpet filled his nostrils. He felt totally and absolutely spent, yet more relaxed, more limp and serene than he had ever felt before in his life. He knew then that he had blacked out. With difficulty, he focused his eyes and the image of Tina smiling from the chair across the room came into view.
Fear surged through him-fear and awe and wonder at the power this woman possessed. No wonder Gene and Rita gave her a private room! She was a terrifying amalgamation of all the great whores in history. Had he really wanted her to hurt him? Had she diagnosed some secret, buried need within him that cried out to be hurt-yes, smacked in the balls-so that he might then experience the ultimate orgasm? He didn't think so, but the possibility that it might be true terrified him.
"Hello," he said, not moving, his cheek still against the carpet. "Are you a witch?"
Tina laughed. "I don't know. Maybe. You passed out. I feel pleased when one of my patients passes out."
"Patients?"
"I'm only joking. I do feel pleased, though, when a man comes like that. Best you ever had, wasn't it?", "Unbelievable," Roger said, lifting himself to the bed. "What about you?"
"Oh, don't worry about me," she said. "I have my own scene. You run off and get some sleep now. I think you'll sleep well; don't you think so?"
Roger nodded numbly, then staggered to the door and made his way downstairs to his blanket and pad. Within seconds, he fell into a deep sleep.
Tina had everything ready now-the mirror behind her and the picture of the naked man with the huge testicles in front of her on the bed. She bent forward, spread the cheeks of her smooth buttocks with her hand, and began sliding the greased vibrator in and out of her rectum. She glanced back and forth from the man's testicles to her own reflection in the mirror until, shuddering, she gasped and lay panting across the bed. Satiated now, she could sleep.