Chapter 8
It was three in the morning, and they we having scrambled eggs in Lei's apartment. H showgirl makeup was washed away, and her long, thick hair was tied back by a simple red ribbon.
Lei Ng didn't look like a stripper just then, but more like a young girl, country clean and country fresh. Or a wife, but with an exotic slant to her eyes, an Oriental planing of her cheeks, and a richness to her full mouth. How many men had wives like that?
"See, baby," she said. "I don't burn the eggs, either."
It was weird, how she grabbed onto his thoughts. "Meaning you'd make a good wife?"
Lei looked down into her plate. "Something like that. But don't let it bug you. I mean, it's a lot of jazz that two can make out on the same grocery list-unless you dig fish heads and rice, that is."
"You'd make any man a hell of a wife, Lei," he said. "Me, especially. I guess I've been thinking about it."
Her eyebrows went up. "Even with all those-all that-I mean, Lorna and the girls-"
"Even with all that," he said. "Somehow, it's all different with you."
"I know," she said. "I--well, hell, I buttered my bread last night with this guy Lorna wanted to keep happy. Okay; so I got my kicks along with him, but it didn't mean the same. I-maybe you understand what I'm trying to say, Rush."
He nodded, thinking about that, about her, and how she'd fit with the ranch up north. There was a strength to her, a solid thing, and they'd work together, he knew. But could she enjoy the lonesomeness, the distance from town, the not having people around?
He watched her as she washed the dishes in the tiny kitchen alcove, saw her standing tall and slim, but rounded in her translucent dressing gown. Exotic, yes; sexy, yes, but also a comfort to be with, bringing a calmness with her and a serenity that got into a man.
Lei turned then, and caught him watching her. Her sloe eyes flickered, deepened, and the serenity broke itself into little pieces. Wearing half a smile, she moved toward him, sway-hipped toward him with her stripper's walk, an exaggerated thrusting of the pelvis and a conscious lifting, thrusting of the high, firm breasts.
She leaned to kiss him as he sat in the chair, moving her mouth softly over his, giving him a small taste of her banked fires, a hint of flavor, a wisp of texture. Then she was gone, moving gracefully to the bed, where she paused and shed her thin robe.
Pirouetting, she faced him, standing proudly and straight, as she'd posed that first time she brought him here, when he'd been so terribly in need of her, or any woman. High breasts, stiffly nippled, skin all sleek and golden, and the furry curls of her mound were midnight black, crisply black as the wealth of the hair that hung all the way down her back to kiss the top of her lushly rounded tail.
Rush stood up, too, and peeled out of his own clothing. The look of her, the waiting eagerness of her, hit him in the belly like a good left hook. It was almost as if he'd never been wallowing in females, as if he'd just heard the big gate at Soledad clang behind him after two long years.
She was lovely, achingly lovely, and he went to take her in his arms, to hold that beauty against him and make it even more real. She was warm, smooth; her mouth raced over his, her open lips drew in his tongue, and her butterfly fingers found his prick.
Sensuously, Lei rubbed it against her belly, moved it between their bellies while she ground her pelvis lightly into him and darted her tongue into his mouth. The banked flames of her burst forth, fanned into a fury that he could taste in her mouth.
She leaned back and they fell together on the bed, mouths still fastened, bodies snaking over each other, writhing and pushing and knowing the tingling buildup of need, of sweet pressure. He cupped her mound in his hand, held it between his splayed fingers, and worked one finger into her lips, moved it searchingly inside the wet satin of her vagina. He found her clitoris and teased it, slid caressing over it until Lei moaned and hunched swiftly upon his hand.
She broke her mouth from his then, and bit his throat, his upper chest; her warm mouth slid over to fasten upon one of his nipples, and he stroked the long, rich cascade of her black hair as it covered his chest and belly. Her hands held his rod, fondled his scrotum, and her mouth dipped to his belly, to the prowling of his navel.
Down on him she went, pulling the head of it into her lips, so that he could feel the gentle grating of her teeth and the quick curling of her tongue. But he would not allow her to do this alone; he wanted to share with her, be with her, combine with her. Rush turned slowly, changing position upon the bed, moving lengthwise of her and carefully on top of her as she clung to his prong with her mouth.
Instinctively, he went to her lower groin, using his hands to part the wondrous sleekness of her thighs, and buried his face into the depths of that abundant pubic hair. She was soft and sweet, and her legs opened wide for him, her labia spreading, swelling for his caresses.
He tongued into them, pulled the clitoris into his teeth and rolled it tenderly. He felt Lei gasp around his prick, and felt her tongue stiffen for a moment before it again took up the tantalizing licking, the eager suctioning that was making him hump and wiggle.
This was good; this was the intimate, mutual sharing of sixty-nine, and he dug it. He pulled upon her clit and sucked on it, and Lei began a slow, steady stroking up against his mouth and back down again.
He lifted and rolled his own rear, sliding his rod up and down and around in that great suction, that adoring pull she was exerting upon him. Her fingernails bit into his buttocks as she pulled him back down to her, and it was like screwing but different, as hot and as ecstatic, but exotic, titillating in its strangeness.
Rush worked on her clit, loosed it to thrust his tongue rapidly into the vagina, out along the labia and back again to the little boy in the boat, centering her pleasure and bringing her more swiftly to her climax. He felt it coming, felt the quiver that began deep within her vagina, and pumped in quickening strokes, drove it into her mouth, into her velvet throat, hurrying to match her approaching orgasm.
They came together; he let go with a massive throbbing, a spurting ejaculation that she took gladly, gaspingly, and Lei hunched her mound violently to his face, ground and shook as the waves of release exploded within her.
Good; it was so damned good, just to lie there with his prick holstered by her loving mouth, to keep his face hidden between the opulence of her thighs, in the juicy ripeness of her pussy. He enjoyed the feel of her hair, her skin, the wetness of her.
She let go first, murmuring endearments to his scrotum, his lower belly, stroking his cheeks. Regretfully, he lifted from her mound, and rolled from her body. They lay head to foot for awhile, until Lei turned about and moved down to kiss him deeply and with a lingering pleasure.
She found cigaretts for them, and they lay smoking quiety, warmed and gentled by what they had shared. In time, Lei said, "Rush? What was it like-your first time?"
"Sex? My very first time?" His eyes were closed, and he had been floating, drifting. He knew why she'd asked, why she wanted to know all about him, everything concerning what he thought and what he did. It seemed a natural thing, her wanting to know all that.
Rush remembered clearly, the first time out; he supposed nobody ever really forgot it. He began to tell her about it, sensing that she really dug the talk, the intimate revelations. There was something voyeuristic about her enjoyment, but that didn't matter.
The girl had been sixteen, he said, and tried to describe Sherry-Sherry Something, because now he couldn't even remember her last name. But she'd been the glamorous girl at school.
He'd lucked into it, because he'd been working in the yard of her house when she was bored, or got turned on by someone else, or whatever her reason had been to seduce the skinny kid. Sherry had to make all the first moves, because he was scared pitiless and a cherry besides.
Sure, there'd been whispers around school about Sherry, and some of the older guys bragged that she was a hot piece, but there was always a lot of that kind of talk, and Rush hadn't really believed it.
Sherry had blonde hair, so blonde it was almost silver, and she was wearing a pair of tight, red shorts, and a halter the same brilliant color. He couldn't keep his eyes off her, because she had these big tits and he could make out the shape of her pussy, those shorts were so snug.
When she came out on the porch and lay on that lounge chair, he was working in the back yard, trimming around the flower bushes and edging the lawn he'd already mowed. She disturbed him, and he kept sneaking looks at her as she lay there, taking a sunbath.
Sherry got up and walked back into the house, and his eyes clung hotly to her tail, to the wiggle of her cheeks as she disappeared into the darkness of her home, the coolly inviting shadows. His heart sank, and his erect rod throbbed in his jeans. Of course, she hadn't said anything to him; she was the glamor girl of the entire school, and he was just Rush Scanlon.
"Hey," she called from the kitchen. "Want a coke?"
He dropped his edger and clippers, and his knees shook when he climbed the steps and crossed the porch. He tried to be casual, though, tried to be cool and uncaring.
Her fingers touched his when she handed him the frosty bottle. He was glad she asked him to sit down at the kitchen table, because he damned near fell down, and he wanted desperately to hide the big hard-on that was bulging his jeans.
"My folks are gone for the day," she said, her red tongue licking out to collect a few drops of coke from her bee-stung lips. "They said I had to stay home and take care of the house, dammit. That's why I'm not out at the beach with the rest."
He felt he had to answer something, so he said, "I'm sorry."
"I was, too," she said. "Until I saw you working in the yard. The day's not a total loss, now. I mean, since you're about done out back, you and me can-kind of get to know each other, right?"
"R-right," he agreed, and gulped noisily on his coke. His rod was so hard it was painful, and he kept his legs crossed under the table, trying to ease it and cover it up.
"Finish your coke and let's go in the living room and dance," she commanded, regal as any princess.
He hesitated, partly because he wasn't much of a dancer, but mostly because of his hard. Rush had never been so shaky in his life, never so embarrassed.
Standing then, staring down at him with those pale blue eyes, Sherry said, "What's the matter? Scared I'll make fun of you? I saw your peter sticking out while you were still working on the lawn. That's why I asked you in here."
Rush reddened, swallowed, and was miserable. He wanted to drop through the linoleum, to get up .and run away. He really didn't know what the hell to do, or say.
She came even closer, so that her big, round tits were right in front of his eyes as he sat stiffly on the chair, still clenching the empty coke bottle. He could smell her perfume, and the faintly musky odor of the fine sweat that was beading her bare arms.
"You're a cherry," she accused. "That's how come I haven't seen you around with the gang.
Look, Rush-you don't have to be scared. I'll show you how to do it. I've showed other boys."
"Okay," he mumbled. "Okay then, show me."
She took his hand and he got up and followed her into the cool shadows of the living room, where the drapes were drawn to keep out the summer sun. At the couch, she let go of him.
"You're nice," she said, "real nice, account of you admit you never screwed before. All the other boys say sure, sure they have, and then they fumble around and pop off before they even get it in. You won't do that, will you?"
"I-I guess not," he said.
"Undress," she said, "and don't worry, the gate to the back yard is locked, and so is the front door. Nobody will come in."
He was slower than she was, getting stripped. She did some movement to her halter, and her round tits popped right out; she wiggled her hips, and the shorts peeled off. The hair on her pussy was the same color as the hair on her head, a silvery paleness that was long and silken and so damned beautiful he wanted to cry.
"Come on," she said, "come on."
He somehow got out of his jeans and shirt and shoes, and she pulled him down to the couch, telling him to kiss her, to feel her tits and her thing. That's what she called it, her thing.
After the first tentative caress, he was all right. He cupped her tits and rolled them around in both hands, feeling the stiff nipples, flinching as she took hold of his prick.
He was a little clumsy, fumbling over her arm and hand to get to her pussy, her thing. It felt wonderful, just as he'd dreamed one would feel, if he ever got to touch it. It was soft and tickly and the hair on it drove him crazy, it felt so damned good. It was warm, too, and when he found the slot, the lips hidden deeply within the silky hair were sticky.
"Put your finger in," Sherry panted. "All the way in-now another finger; yeah, yeah-that's right. Move 'em around, sweetheart-feel around-higher, yeah, yeah, yeah. Faster, sweetheart, faster, faster!"
He realized he was jacking her off, that he was doing for her what he did for himself, when the pressures got too much to bear and he relieved himself by masturbation.
Rush was glad she turned loose of his prick, to grab both hands on his hips. If she'd held on much longer, he'd have let go all over her arm. As it was, he felt the end of his rod going all hot and sticky, like the lips he was feeling.
"Uh!" Sherry grunted then, twisting her belly, hunching on his hand. "Uh-uh-uh!"
She sat very still, with his fingers inside her, buried in all that hotness, with the silky hair curling down around them. After awhile, she said, "That was pretty good; you're going to be pretty good, too. Now, sweetheart-take out your fingers and let me lie down on the couch. Take that pillow, yeah-slip it under my butt-"
And he stared at her femaleness, at the steamy pussy, the soft thighs, the shape of her ass.
"Come on," she said, "come on, Rush. Get on top of me-in between my legs, yeah-I'll take your peter and put it-"
He shivered when he made contact with that hairy, warm mound, shuddered violently when she placed the head of his aching rod into those sticky lips, and she didn't have to tell him anything else. She didn't have to say anything more, because he was shoving it hard into her, shoving it as far up her hot and slippery pussy as far as he could cram it.
"Yeah, yeah," she said. "Oh yeah, sweetheart-oh do it to me good, Rush; stick it to me good and deep-oh yeah-"
He laid it into her, using his ass like a hammer and his prick like a nail, driving it home and glorying in the slick, hot sensation as it slid in and out of her vagina, as it pounded in and out of that wonderful hole.
He tried to hold back, sensing that she was hunching and heaving to bring herself to come again, but the feeling was too much for him, and he came for the first time inside a girl.
It was terrific. His semen pumped out in spasms, in big, spitting releases, and he felt her clench on his rod, felt Sherry heave and buck beneath him. He realized that she had come, too, that he had succeeded as a screwer.
Man, it was good in there, where it was so bubbly and hot. It was good to lie there on top of her smooth belly and feel his balls snugged there in the crack of her tail, feel all that long, pale pussy hair wrapped around his root.
"You did real good, sweetheart," she told him. "You did just fine. I got your cherry, and you'll never, never forget me for it."
A span of years later, Rush Scanlon lay naked and sated on the bed beside a beautiful Chinese girl, and said that Sherry Somebody had been right. He had never forgotten her-only her last name. And he was still grateful to her.
He nudged Lei Ng to be certain she was awake. Across her upright breasts, he could see dawn easing in the window of her apartment. She rolled the softly angled planes of her face to him, and her black eyes smiled on him
"You know something funny?" he asked. "About Sherry, I mean. She never even went out with me again, and pretty soon stopped talking to me on the phone. She said I was too young for her, and I guess she was right. But that wasn't the strange thing. After I got home that day, I got to thinking it all over, and realized that she had never kissed me-not even once."
"I'll make up for that," Lei murmured, and lifted enough to cover his mouth with hers, to slip the little animal of her tongue into his mouth. But she wasn't pushing him, just letting him know she was available again, that she was ready if he was.
He cupped her breasts, rolled over to put his belly against hers. "You liked hearing about Sherry?" he asked. "About my first time with a girl?"
"Yes," Lei said, "because that's an important part of Rush Scanlon. It excites me, too-I can see you as a young boy, all frightened and desperate, and I wish the girl had been me, that I could have been the one to teach you about sex."
He stroked her belly, dropped his hand down between her thighs where the deep black hair was fluffy and spiky at once. Lei sighed and kissed him again, her tongue going deeper and more active, her teeth raking lightly across his.
His organ grew harder. It had been lifting slowly all the while he'd been talking, telling the story of his loss of virginity. Or did only girls lose their virginity? He grinned at that, and gave her his cock to hold, to play with and massage fully to erection.
When it was hard beneath her fingers, Lei put a leg over his hip and kind of snuggled down on the head of his rod, slowly wiggling until the staff was seated into her hips. She slid on it, wriggled on it, and pulled it happily into her warmly eager entrance. They screwed tenderly for a long time, until they both came and fell asleep.