Chapter 13

HE FELT HER SOFT SKIN ON HER THIGHS QUIVER UNDER HIS TOUCH....

Carl Zeller swung his apartment door closed and locked it. Nita looked around his quarters admiringly. He was glad he had had the cleaning woman in the day before; he had never been much of a housekeeper.

"This is swell," Nita said, wiggling toward his sofa. He was sure she had been around, that this wasn't her first trip to a man's apartment. So what? Perhaps her experience would help him lick his big problem. What followed next, or what he hoped would follow, had always presented him with his knottiest dilemma.

The final approach, the right words to use. A clever whore always took care of that, and Edna had been to a certain extent. When she wanted it she went after it.

He realized that he had always made too big a thing out of the difference between paid women and "nice" girls. His inclincation to idolize feminine beauty was natural, but in some cases it didn't work.

Jean was still mad because he had acted like a teenager.

It's high time I grew up, he decided.

Nita had been tossing it at him for weeks; she was here, sitting prettily on the sofa, her skirt above her knees, her smile inviting.

"Like another drink?" he asked, standing in front of her.

She lifted her arms above her head, the motion causing her blouse to bulge outward even further.

"I feel swell right now," she said, patting the sofa beside her. She hadn't made a move to turn up any more lights. The single lamp he had left on was the only illumination.

The allure of her mouth and breasts and amply-rounded thighs drew him down. Why the hell wait any longer? He slid his right arm a-round her waist and his left about her shoulders.

She half-turned, melting in his embrace, lifting her mouth. Not as sultry as Jean's but tempting enough. He sank his mouth into her waiting lips, and a hot jolt went through his loins. He hadn't done much kissing of recent years, until he had felt the cloying heat of Jean's mouth. One never bussed a whore ... for obvious reasons.

Nita's hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. She pressed her swollen breasts tightly to his chest. The heat of her mouth had a spine-tingling urgency.

When the tip of her tongue wiggled excitingly on his mouth, he remembered all the times in his office when he had glanced at her shortie skirts, at the smooth nyloned thighs recklessly exposed when no one else was present.

Something snapped in his brain. The wall of his reserve fell away. He didn't care now what had done it-Jean's words of scorn, the liquor or Nita's willingness. He trembled, feeling a surge of need almost as sharp as when he had kissed Jean.

He would probably never have another chance with her, so why the devil worry about it? Pluck the fruit when it was ripe. And now was the time. Now!

His hand shot down to the enticing spread of her thighs. He drove inward with his tongue. She quaked. The feel of her nyloned legs under his fingers was exciting him beyond stopping, even if he'd wanted to.

Damn, how I wanted to do that with Jean, he thought.

Nita's thighs were silky-smooth, hot to his touch. Go, man, go! He reached higher, to the alluring planes close to her panties. Her tongue darted; she squeezed her legs against his seeking hand.

Easy as eating pie. Only one hell of a lot better.

She rolled her lips under his, and when her hand stole down to his trousers he knew he was doing the right things. The tantalizing woman-fragrance from her hair, from her opened thighs, reminded him again of Jean.

"Ohhh ... mmmmm!'" she gasped, breaking the kiss.

He firmed his hand on her woman curve. The sensuous lift of her hips fanned his desire. Her fingers danced over the bulge of his trousers, then rose to her blouse. She opened the buttons, slowly.

"I'm glad you don't rush, honey," she whispered. "I've waited for this for a long time."

"So have I," he said, but the meaning wasn't the same. He had conquered the wall of shyness. Nita could be any girl, now. When he thought of all the stuff he had missed because of his reluctance it made him almost angry. How ridiculous could things be? Sure, there were risks-but he took them every day in his business.

He had been successful in every area but the most important-sexual relations. He was grateful to Nita. And the best way to show it would be to give her a good time.

Edna had taught him the main essentials of how to arouse a woman to fever pitch. Even the whores had added to "his sexual knowledge. He had certainly read enough about it.

He drew Nita's hand away from her blouse and replaced it with his own. He opened the garment all the way to the wide belt at her waist. Her bra was pink and lace-trimmed. He had already discovered that she wore no slip.

"I've wondered about these," he said, cupping a bulgy mound.

She giggled. Her hand returned to his trousers. "I've wondered about you, too, Carl. You're one hell of a man!"

He had never wondered about that, one way or another. Edna had had some difficulty in accommodating him, and a few whores had admired his penis. But prostitutes were supposed to be complimentary.

Made bolder still by her words and the booze, he unzipped his trousers. She giggled, helping him. She was going to see him sooner or later, so why not sooner?

"Ohhhh!" she cried, as his rigidity came in sight. "Oh, you big wonderful thing, you!"

Her hands caressed him gently. She trembled. He reached around her and unhooked her bra. Her big sloping breasts tumbled out of their lacy cups. Her nipples, encircled by lighter bands of pink flesh, were red and tumescent, quite large.

He fondled her charms, his lust mounting. Her nipples swelled even more. She sank back on the sofa, thighs wide open, her mounds jutting forward, a picture of sensual allure.

"Play with me till I'm crazy for it, honey!" she cried. "I want to swing!"

He lowered his head and kissed the ripe buds of her nipples. He caressed her thighs from knee to crotch. Her hips turned restless, and he felt the heat of her yearning as he teased her breast-tips with his lips and tongue.

"Ohhh-mmmmmmm!" she panted. "Let's get undressed, honey. I need this ... I haven't had any for months!"

Well, well!

He could understand it, partially. She wasn't slim or even pretty. Lots of men would pass her by as being too buxom. The long-stemmed girlies got most of the treats. Softly-rounded girls had always stirred him. Like Jean, Her wide hips had a special allure.

Hell, get her out of your mind.

He stood up and began taking off his clothes. She unfastened her belt, and in a trice her skirt was gone, on the back of the sofa. Her blouse came next. She lifted her generous hips and wiggled out of her panties. Her nylons, held up by a band of stretchy stuff at the tops, she didn't remove. Good. Made her look even sexier, like in the men's magazines.

He had undressed for whores plenty of times, but never for Edna, or any other woman. Nothing to that, either. Once he had made up his mind to go, once he had rid himself of his shyness, the rest was duck soup.

Nita's downy vee was a magnet, pulling him back to the sofa. He hardly knew where to start first!

She settled the issue by squirming up into his lap, sitting with her lush thighs pointing directly at right angles to his body. She knew he was no lefty.

"Secretary on the Boss's lap," she giggled, spreading her legs. His rigidity rose up between them.

The feel of her soft bottom on his loins made him quake with desire-but he knew he had to move carefully. She was playful; she wanted to get as much out of it that she could.

He fondled her breasts, bringing her nipples out sharply.

"Ohhhhh-that's good, honey!"

Then she pulled his hand down to her femininity. He cuddled her, feeling her quivers of response. She turned so that her big breasts were right in his face. He licked her nipples while her fingers caressed his manhood, while he toyed with her crevice, finding the little tip of her need.

"Uhhhh-mmmmmm!" she cried softly. "Should I take a letter?"

"Yes," he said, catching the mood of her game. "Dear Sir."

"Make it dear Madame," she laughed.

"All right! 'Dear Madam. I have a wonderful, understanding girl in my lap. What is the best position for fun?'"

She giggled. "Continue!"

"Hell I can't wait four or five days for an answer...."

"I'll be the dear Madam," Nita said. " 'Dear Sir, I recommend that you swing this girl around in your lap and let her do the rest!'"

Carl had to laugh. "Damned if that wasn't a quick reply."

Nita raised up, bringing her bottom directly above his manhood, opening her thighs, placing one on each side of him. She scooted nearer, knees in the sofa. Her breathing quickened. Her breasts seemed to push out even further.

Her right hand came down to hold him, guide him....

"Ohhhh...." she gasped. "Ohhh, honey-it's so big ... ohhhhhhh ... now it's going ... Oh! OHHHH-hon-ey!"

The sweet, hot joining made him burn all over. She was gratifyingly snug. She wiggled until he was deep inside, feeling the shivers of her breasts against his lips, the eager claspings of her vagina around his manhood.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders and lifted, her breathing jerky. Up, down, up, down, slowly....

He sucked a nipple far into his mouth. "Ohhhh!" she cried. "Ohhhhh-that's ... good!"

He had never been very good at dictation; he was basically an outdoor man, but now he commenced to finish the letter in his mind. It helped him maintain a detatchment he knew was necessary so he wouldn't waste his energies and deny Nita her full pleasure.

"The girl is swinging her bottom like an expert. She's dragging it out, pausing now and then. She has a fine sense of rhythm. Her nipples are stiff; they throb in my mouth. Her flesh is velvety and seems to burn. She's panting and squirming, working up a big head of steam...."

It was crazy. This wasn't the way to enjoy a lively girl!

He placed his hands on her rump, held her, and began his own series of thrusting. He used the sofa springs to give him the right balance and buoyancy.

"Mmmm-ohhhhh ... mmmm!" she cried.

Deeper, now-then out-deeper, still ... right into the core of her need.

He felt the tension of her excitement. Her thighs pressed, her fingers raked his shoulders. She was ready.

He dropped his hands. She moaned.

Suddenly the flutterings in her pelvis quickened, and her hips flew. The sofa creaked out its song of twangy vibrations. The delectable tight-enings of her membranes on his manhood temped him, but he stayed aloof, finding his enjoyment in the tempest of her spasms, her gaspy rise to completion.

"Ohhh ... I'm coming!" she shouted. "Ohhh-oh-oh-Right now!"

The flood of her exploding passion gave him a sensation of exquisite triumph. To succeed as a lover, as a male, was the ultimate victory.

She gripped him and bounced out the rest of her joy, shivering, groaning, mashing her breasts tightly to his chest, lost in her rapture.

Damn, damn, he thought. If this was only Jean. Why didn't I take her?

"Ohhhhh, that was good!" Nita whispered, nipping his shoulder with her teeth. She squirmed playfully, still surrounding him, keeping her hips tightly to him. The shiverings of her body continued as she softened, as tiny tremors far inside attested to her continuing enjoyment.

A vision of Jean sprang before his eyes, and his tensing made Nita giggle.

"You're still big and hard, honey! Ohhhh-now I can do it again!" Her voice grew more intimate. "Are you going with me the next time?"

"The time after that," he said, teasingly.

"Ohhhh-you wonderful big thing, you! I really went wild. Should we try another position?"

He smiled to himself. "Whatever you like, blondie."

She sighed, nudging herself closer. "Why did you wait so long for this, Carl? Think of all the fun we missed!"

"We'll do some catching up," he murmured, cuddling her soft bottom.

I owe her a lot, he thought. She brought me out of my shell.