Chapter 3
Patricia Worth took her time getting up the next morning even though it was late. It was hard to get herself going. Usually she drove herself with frustration. But this morning, regardless of her mental and emotional state, her body was content. It had had two men the day before and if each was, in a sense, only partially satisfactory to Patricia, her hungry, vital body was not so discriminating. It was quite content that both males had been virile and strong and that it had been permitted to drink their healthy juices.
She thought about this as she went into the bathroom and ran the big tub full once more. No, bodies didn't discriminate too much-assuming they were starved enough. There was a basic level with them which was simply defined as "getting it" or not and when this level was reached, they ceased to make distinctions.
She stood watching the water run into the green depths of the tub, her hands on her naked hips.
"Maybe it's better that way," she thought. "If bodies thought too, beyond the basic necessities, that on top of everything else would drive us crazy."
Yes, it was a good arrangement. Her skin felt silken beneath her fingers and very relaxed. It made her feel a little whorish, this sense of well-being that sprang completely from her flesh's sense of release.
And yet it was a good feeling, one that if she had more often might even change her whole way of life.
A knife of alarm went through her at the thought but then subsided. With all the complications in her mental life, it seemed very doubtful that she would ever be sexually satisfied long enough to make any real change in her life. That, at least, was no big problem.
She thought of her mother then for some reason, the tiny, stick-brittle woman in the big house that her father had left them in when he had disappeared with the night-club singer when Patty was eight. Strange, that was the name he had called her-Patty. She had adopted Patricia right after he had left and kept it ever since-until the emergence of the nymphet in her own psyche that had driven her out onto the streets at night, the haunts of the teeny-boppers to find her sexual satisfaction.
But no, there was little chance in her finding a real balance in her sexual life, not after all the trouble she had. She thought of all the Sundays and Wednesdays when she had been driven to the little Fundamentalist church by her mother. It had been her refuge after her father left and the evils of sexuality was her mother's principal sermon.
"Desire, lust fosters evil." That had been one of her favorite sayings. Sometimes she even slipped into the bathroom while Patty was bathing to make sure she wasn't fondling herself. Her eyes had always been watching for signs of incipient sexuality.
And so Patricia had gone underground. She had found time to fondle herself, but secretly. Everything sexual became secret. She slipped off to meet boys, slipped off to play with herself. Her sex went underground.
"Oh, mother!"
She said the words aloud in exasperation, standing, staring into the green depths of the tub, hands on hips. Fingers, cool and curious, ranged over her flesh now, feeling its softness.
Her flesh responded out of its fullness and sensation moved over her. Strange! Usually masturbation was so unrewarding that she didn't bother with it.
But now suddenly she felt a longing for the touch of her own hands and her fingers moved down into her dark little bush, toying, tugging at the hairs and finally sliding into the moist slit.
"Oh, silly!" she murmured to herself.
What a ridiculous way to be acting when she should be on her way to work.
And yet desire was moving through her body and it seemed so pleasant to feel it there for a change that she couldn't help but take advantage of it.
Her hand still between her legs, she stepped over the side of the tub and sank into the green depths.
For a moment she just lay there basking in the sensual, enfolding warmth.
"Ummm! Lovely!" she murmured.
Then she straightened up and began laving full breasts with a soapy rag, delighting in the contact with herself. She looked down and saw tiny, pink coral nipples grow rigid with pleasure.
"Look at them," she murmured to herself wonderingly. "Who would ever believe that sometimes they were absolutely devoid of feeling, that nothing in the world could make then respond."
The thought was a burden to her but she put it easily aside. Her thighs tingled as the rag ran down her body. She hadn't forgotten her intentions when she climbed into the tub. She was merely delaying the pleasure, stretching it out as a good lover should.
"It'll be that much better," she told herself, moving the rag over her white belly, gouging out the navel with a finger to make sure it was clean. Then she did her back as best she could and then finally soaked the rag and let the warm water trickle over her upper body front and back.
There! Now there was nothing left but the genital area and she could concentrate on it fully.
Squatting in the tub, she soaped the rag and ran it over her pubis till the dark curls were white and frothy. Then she did the slit all the way to the end of the crease in back.
"Ohhhh!"
Feeling was surging in her already and she sank back into the tub with sudden abandon, the rag drifting away as her hand stole between her legs once more.
"Oh, do me!" she murmured to herself, her voice husky with passion. She had a need of herself suddenly deep as her life, as though this one autonomous act might restore her to herself, separate her from the roles that crowded her in her life so closely that sometimes she had trouble remembering who she was.
The fingers parted the dark curls and moved into the slit and she sank backward, letting the back of the tub pillow her as she closed her eyes and her fingers moved into the moist slit, the slit that would have been moist even if she had not been in the tub, moist with her hungry juices.
Oh, it was good!
Sometimes nothing was better than to be able to feel your own body, to take it to its natural climax, in complete privacy, without the help of anyone.
Her finger found the little knob inside the top of the slit and massaged it in tight surging circles while her free hand moved back up to her breasts, pinching the nipples softly, one after the other.
It was lovely.
The excitement grew in her and her hips began to move in rhythm with the fingers.
Yes, that was it!
It was starting to build now.
Her fingers tweaked harder at the rigid nipples as the stiffened middle finger spun around the tiny button. But it wasn't enough. She wanted it inside her. Arching her back, she drove the finger in deep, moving it so that the inside of her finger brushed the little button as it probed. That was better.
She tightened muscles as much as she could to feel the finger and began a rhythmical motion inside herself, brushing the little nodule of pleasure with each stroke.
"Yes, yes!" she moaned aloud.
Now it was starting to happen and she let her hips grind against the probing finger with the same urgency as though a man were lying between the spread thighs.
The water stirred around her and that was nice too. She wanted its enfolding warmth while this was happening.
"Oh, do it!" she moaned, "Make me come!"
She arched her back higher and the fingers trailed from her breasts down over her full hips to stroke her in back and lodge finally in the crevice behind.
"Ohhh!"
She probed into the crevice and new life stung her. Her hips flailed and the finger probed deeper. "Yes, it's coming!"
Her voice was a low impassioned moan.
If only it could always be this way. No complications, just the motion of your own fingers inside you and no one around.
Faster, faster, the fingers probed and she was writhing with passion now, the waters rocking back and forth as her frenzy mounted.
"Fuck me!" she groaned. Her back arched to the pounding fingers and her whole belly was alive with its need. "More! More!"
The fingers drove in and a painful burning need surged in her with blind animal force.
For a moment she hung suspended between the need and the resolution. In that moment, her whole life seemed to reel itself past her, sorrow and disappointment and hunger for fame and all of it as blind, as grappling as her body's present groping for the climax.
And then suddenly it surged over her and all thought was drowned in the vibrating waves of sensation that trilled through her singing body.
"Oh, wonderful!"
She lay back with a smile, fingers still deep inside her as the waves washed over. A pagan smile of lust was on her mouth and her lips crooned little love words to herself.
Her body was all snug and warm and complete and she felt happy.
"Oh, to be this way always!"
And that thought alone was enough to jolt her into lifting her body and staring about her.
"Of course! Work!"
There was still the job, still Gerald. It was still all there where it had been. She had just forgotten for a moment. She climbed out of the tub, towelled herself dry and began to dress.
And by the time she was dressed-in her elegant grey suit with the high collar and long sleeves, her hair piled up on her head and pinned sedately-she was Patricia Worth again, the lines of her face set in the mould of business. She looked into the eyes of that face in the mirror and received no glance of recognition from the wanton she had met in the bathtub a few minutes before. She had disappeared.
There was no one there now but Patricia Worth.
And there was no place to go but to work.
Setting her shoulders, she marched out of her apartment and down to the street where she got into the car and drove to the office.
Another day.
The drive to work settled her and brought her back to her usual mood, a calm sort of driving impersonality. It was a part of her work role. Those under her feared it because she would not let them rest when she tackled a job. She demanded and got all they had or they were not around long. Those above her admired it and made as good use of it as they could. They paid top money for her single-mindedness. And soon they would pay more. That was where it was for Patricia Worth.
And Patty?
Well, Patty was once more under control. Patty, Patricia told herself, was a luxury that Patricia allowed herself as a reward for the long driving hours of work. And the cold evenings with Gerald Heard which she essentially labelled business also.
A dark surge of feeling that she could not define came to her as she remembered his embrace last night, the frantic retreat into herself, the morbid joy of having to deliver her body over to this man in spite of her own wishes. She couldn't deny the deep, almost hidden pleasure that had sometimes stolen through her. But it was so dark a thing and so basically unsatisfying that she fought to suppress it once more.
A shudder passed over her.
"Well, Patty's safely tucked away," she murmured to herself as she climbed out of her car and strode into the office building of Heard Advertising.
Yes, Patty was tucked away, along with the woman lying in the tile tub stroking herself, letting herself deliberately be late for work. The last words sounded in her ear and she deliberately increased her pace and buzzed into the elevator and up to the floor that housed her office without further thought.
Patty was under control. Her body was sated. Thought was unnecessary except with regard to the Rigby account.
With a sigh of relief, she eased herself through the office door into the bright modern office almost as lavish as Gerald Heard's and seated herself at the desk.
A buzz on the intercom brought Miss Aiken, her tiny brunette secretary, bouncing into the office with a bundle of file folders.
As often happened, a thrill surged through Patricia at the sight of Laurie.
Laurie Aiken was tiny and demure and attractive and Patricia had often told herself that if she ever decided to go that way, this was the one she would pick.
It brought a touch of life to the humdrum office routine, turning to watch Laurie as she bent over a file drawer. She wore mini-skirts as short as the office would permit and when she bent over, her little bottom in its sheer nylon panties was plainly visible.
Now, as though sensing the direction of her thoughts, Laurie moved over to the low coffee table by the skyline window and bent over, arranging the flowers in a vase.
Why she was wearing no panties!
The deep cleft of tiny round buttocks hove into view and beneath it the jet black surge of the little bush, cupping labia as tiny and delicate as seashells.
"Ohhh!"
An involuntary exclamation burst from her. A sudden tension surged in Patricia Worth that she had never felt before.
Laurie, without rising, glanced back over her shoulder at her.
"Is something wrong, Miss Worth?"
The voice was all innocence. But Patricia felt she sensed in it a very feminine challenge.
It went like this: Patricia knew that Laurie had showed this just to her. She was quite capable of not showing anyone else that she wasn't wearing panties. So if Patricia commented, then it meant that the sight disturbed her. If she saw the luscious bottom and didn't comment, then perhaps that was an admission too-or perhaps even encouragement.
Patricia looked but did not speak. She didn't intend to even look but somehow the light glistening on the dark little pelt held her gaze hypnotically and she couldn't quite turn away.
"Oh dear!"
Laurie, taking full advantage of her control, tipped the vase slightly and it fell. Then she rushed across the room to a drawer and got a rag which she began wiping the water up with, leaning over even farther as she did so, so that the hem of the short skirt framed her naked buttocks, displaying them fully to view.
Finally, she had cleaned it up and went into the bathroom, refilled the vase and went back to the coffee table and began rearranging the flowers once more.
The play was so obvious that it would have amused Patricia if it hadn't annoyed her.
It was the first time that she had received any signal from Laurie that she was more than ordinarily aware of the subtle vibrations passing between them.
And now she felt called upon to do something in spite of herself. At least to examine that part of Patricia Worth that she had never discovered before. The part of her that was drawn to women.
Or had it been there always, beneath her mother's instilled timidity about males and sex?
"Ohhh!"
An exclamation of impatience escaped her which Laurie took as a reprimand.
"Is that all right, Miss Worth?" she asked, raising brown eyes innocently as she straightened up.
"Yes, that's fine, Laurie."
She made her voice cold. It did not stop Laurie from moving over to her desk and pretending to examine the folders that lay there. Her breasts barely touched Patricia's shoulder.
"Is that everything you need?" she asked softly.
"Yes, thank you."
Laurie made her voice an open invitation.
"If there's anything else, I'll get it for you."
The heat of her little body disturbed Patricia and she had trouble keeping her voice under control.
"That's all, thank you, Laurie," she said evenly.
"Just making sure," Laurie murmured as she went out with a twitch of her little butt.
The minute she left, Patricia regretted it. It came over her in a wave that left her shocked. Where was all this sexuality coming from?
She tried to put her mind on the account. After all, that was what Patricia Worth was about, wasn't it? Wasn't it?
Yes, in a way that was what she was about, she rationalized, but more than that, she was about getting what she wanted by dint of a direct and driving perseverance. Patricia Worth was a little too aggressive, but then she might, for that very reason, be attractive to females like Laurie who were all submission.
The thought intrigued her.
She took herself in hand and forced her mind back to the page but the letters blurred.
"This is no way to do it," she murmured to herself. Particularly after promising the evening to Gerald. She always made a point of having new progress to report when she made a date with him. That way, while impressing him with her charm as a companion, she could also be impressing him with her efficiency. Nothing wasted.
Well, if things kept on like this, there would be nothing she could report tonight.
Impatience seized her. She reached over and rang for Laurie, not even knowing what it was she rang for.
Laurie picked up her cue at once and came in quickly and stood in almost the very spot she had abandoned a few minutes before.
Seated as she was, Patricia could feel the heat of the young body near her shoulder, the loins almost brushing it.
A dark, masculine hunger surged in her.
She tensed herself fighting it but it did not go away. Laurie stood waiting.
"Yes, Ma'am?"
There seemed to be so much communication in the air at that moment that Patricia felt that it would be superfluous to add words to what was already there. And yet words were demanded. Or had she just called her in here to feel the heat of that young belly near her shoulder? Should she concede the fact?
"These files are a mess," she said coldly.
"But-"
Laurie started to protest and then heard the anger in Patricia's voice.
"They're a mess," Patricia said. "Sit right down here and straighten them up at once."
Her voice was suddenly furious.
Bewildered, Laurie seated herself at the desk and Patricia rose and stood over her, looking down at the dark head, the bulge of the small, firm breasts.
"They-they seem to be in order."
"Of course they do-to you!" Patricia railed, beside herself suddenly. "But look at this! And this!"
She grabbed papers at random.
Laurie stared, tears starting to her eyes. Patricia had perhaps been cold in the past but always fair. She had never behaved like this before.
"And this! And this!"
She scooped the papers up as though about to fling them from her and then abruptly Laurie began to cry.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out. "I-I try to do my job. I thought you were pleased with me."
She sobbed even harder and abruptly Patricia's anger melted. Without thinking, she drew the smaller woman up into her arms to comfort her.
The contact was sufficient. Laurie melted in her arms and Patricia's arms tightened around her and then the tear-stained face was raised and they were kissing.
It began softly and ended as a long, tongue dual caress. Patricia plunged deep into the other's mouth and felt herself sucked at greedily.
And in her mind was the memory of that bright little bottom raised to her as the other girl bent to arrange the flowers. Unconsciously, her hands moved, one down the front and one down the back and her fingers were suddenly engulfed by living flesh.
"Ohhh!"
Laurie swayed against her and Patricia's fingers probed deeper and brought a moan from her young friend.
"What am I doing?" she wondered. "Have I gone insane?"
The door was unlocked. She wanted to break away and lock it but both hands were entangled.
Laurie murmured against her mouth, "the door," and broke away long enough to lock it. Then she came back and stood facing Patricia, flushed and lovely.
The two of them looked at each other.
"What is it?" Patricia asked desperately. "What do you want from me?"
Laurie's look went suddenly impish.
"I want to lift that skirt, and pull those white panties down. I'm sure they're white. And then I want to eat you."
A surge of hunger burst through Patricia.
"But-here?"
"Why not?"
And suddenly she was back in Patricia's arms. They kissed and, she slid down the long body till she was kneeling and suddenly her hands were up under the skirt, tugging the panties down to the knees.
Fingers stole into her. Patricia felt weak and out of control. "Wait!"
She hobbled weakly over to a chair by the big window. The next tall building was blocks away. No one could see. How strange to sit here like this, legs spread, pants half down. Both of them had forgotten her hose. Now, Laurie knelt in front of her and she could not resist but leaned back as the young girl undid her stockings, slid them down and freed her panties.
"Oh, what a lovely box," Patricia felt fingers tangle in her dark bush.
She was moist, ready.
"Now, slide forward."
She slid forward till her hips were on the edge of the chair, her legs spread. "Now!"
The garter belt slipped up her hips and the brown head descended toward her little muff.
And sensation jolted through Patricia as the warm mouth found her genitals.
It was ridiculous! Sprawled here with the sunlight streaming over her, dress up to her waist, stockings in a swirl around her ankles with that hot little body between her legs.
The mouth toyed with the outer lips and then set to business, finding the little knob at the top inside and teasing it to erection. Then systematically it went to work.
She could not suppress her groans and was thankful that the offices were sound-proofed.
The little tongue was magic and magic fingers slid up under her, cupping her buttocks and teasing the cleft while the tongue built its rhythm in the pink sworls of her secret being.
"No," she thought, "she couldn't possibly make me come this way!"
But the rhythm built and her long body writhed and twisted and finally, she was driving against the little brown head, her fingers tangled in the hair.
"Oh, make it happen!" she moaned.
It was an unnecessary request for at that very moment, her body spasmed, jackknifing with pleasure, and the waves of bliss swirled over her.
She lay there moaning, knees locked on the little head until they were forcefully separated.
She opened her eyes. Laurie was looking down at her, mouth still wet, eyes shining.
"You see? You're not all iron," she murmured and abruptly, she was gone.