Chapter 2
HER TWITCHING THIGHS....
Nickie unlocked the door. Inside the suite was carpeted in deep, fluffy white pile. Brocade drapes were drawn back to reveal a balcony and a sweeping view of the ocean. Beyond the sitting room loomed the bedroom, the open French doors of the closet displaying a collection of at least fifty suits with shoes lined up below on the floor.
"Now let's see, "said Nickie. "What had we better do?"
"We'd better go in there, I think," said the panting Honey, urging him toward the bedroom. It had an immense bed that seemed to be beckoning her.
"Very well," Nickie agreed. "Now. Maybe if I put both hands inside, I can work the thing loose."
"Oooh!" cried Honey as he suited action to words. "Oooh! Oooh!" Honey was boiling; the seething liquid passion inside her almost scalded Nickie's hands. The second hand had entered her bikini from the rear, caressing the plump twin mounds of her sweet buttocks, working itself into the cleft between them and pressing until she cried out in surprise.
At the sound of her cry, he abandoned this target and let his hand slide toward the front of her suit where it joined his other hand in the task of rubbing Honey's already overwrought womanhood.
She was sitting on his lap now, her twitching thighs reverberating against him. Her arms went around his neck and her lips pressed against his, her tongue knocking violently at the door of his mouth until he opened it and allowed her to explore the backsides of his teeth with little darting thrusts.
When she had ceased this activity, Nickie began to bite her ear and nuzzle her neck so that little cold chills of excitement twittered down her hot body into the pit of her stomach.
The bedroom, like the sitting room, had a too-neat air about it. As if nobody had been here recently. Honey had the strange feeling that Nickie had never been here before, and yet that was silly. There were his clothes.
And now he was saying that she probably needed a drink and that there was some nice Napoleon brandy in the liquor cabinet that he would get for her just as soon as he got them unjoined.
"Golly! How are we ever going to get apart?" Two big tears coursed down Honey's cheeks. She was going to die of frustration.
"Don't cry. I'll think of something. I know. I'll get a knife and cut off my cuff."
"Oh no," said Honey. "That wouldn't be fair. After all, I started it."
"Well, we'll toss a coin. Which'll you have?"
"Tails," Honey giggled.
"All right. Heads my cuff and tails your bathing suit." He flipped the coin and it went into Honey's bodice. She stripped it off. Her big nipples, hard and red like two perfect strawberries, pointed at him. The coin rolled off and fell to the floor.
"It's tails," cried Honey, not without a trace of glee. They struggled into the kitchen.
"I'll just cut down the seam and then later you can sew it up," Nickie suggested.
"Yes, yes. Hurry!" Honey cried.
He cut. The suit fell away revealing her quivering belly and the marvel below it. It was a curly blonde marvel, just showing the pulsating pink entrance to her tunnel of love. Nickie groaned and, instead of removing his fingers, he shoved them up as high as was possible.
Gently Honey reminded him that he was free. "Oh," said Nickie sadly.
"Now we'll take off your clothes," Honey said.
"Ah," said Nickie gladly and they raced back into the bedroom.
"Whee," said Honey as she pulled off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Nickie didn't say anything because his mouth was full of breast. He rolled his tongue over the nipple as a man might savor a grape before biting into it. Honey's hand was on his zipper. He felt his trousers fall and his weapon leaped out fresh and in full blossom like a daisy after a spring rain.
"Oh look at the size of you!" Honey chirped.
"And the size of you!" returned Nickie, who was a man to pay a compliment where one was due. He squeezed a generous breast in each hand so that the luscious tips bulged out and trembled invitingly. Nickie was not a man to ignore an invitation either. He returned to biting and sucking one and then the other furiously, like a wine taster who has suddenly confused his vintages.
Honey's twitching hips issued an invitation as well, and soon they were rolling on the satin-covered mattress together. Her fingernails dug into his back as she felt his throbbing passion against her soft stomach.
"Oh, hurry, Nickie, hurry," she murmured.
"What?" said Nickie, who was nibbling her neck.
"Hurry! Do what we have to do! Do it!" Honey's legs spread and wrapped themselves about Nickie's rear.
Nickie sighed and sat up, spilling her off beside him. It seemed to Honey that his manliness wilted slightly. "Ah, yes. We do have to do something. That is, I do. You'll help me, I hope."
"Oh boy, will I ever!" enthused the fluttering Honey. "I'm not the sort of girl to just lie there and let the poor man wear himself out."
"Thank you," said Nickie. "I knew a good friend like you wouldn't let me down."
"Well," giggled Honey, "I guess you might say I'll let you down. I certainly won't leave you all up in the air like that, no sir! Hey, what are you doing?"
He was opening the nightstand. At first Honey thought he must be reaching for one of those little gizmos to put on his whatzit, or so she modestly phrased the thought. She gave a little sigh of disappointment. He didn't trust her. Honey felt hurt. She was a good girl. She always took her pills.
Instead of the expected gizmo, Nickie came up with a pair of heavy horn-rimmed glasses. These he put on, alleviating his nudity only slightly. Yick, thought Honey. He must be one of those characters who liked to play games. Nickie delved into the nightstand again and took out a sheaf of papers.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, his glasses stuck mid-way down his nose, he began leafing through them. "Hmm," he said. He stared for a long moment at Honey. "Let's see. You're a girl-"
"Yes, yes," Honey agreed, lifting both breasts for evidence.
"Then this picture should do."
"So that was it. He liked erotic pictures. "Let me see! Oh, let me see!" she squealed.
"Certainly," said Nickie and handed her the picture.
"But-it's just a picture of a girl walking down a street. With all her clothes on."
"One usually does wear one's clothes on the street," Nickie shrugged.
"But what-"
"I'm engaged in a sort of psychological research project," Nickie said. "Just something I do to occupy my time. What I want you to do is look at that picture and tell me a story about it You know-where you think the girl is going and things like that"
"Well couldn't we-you know-enjoy ourselves, first?" Honey pleaded.
"You see, I have this way of falling asleep afterward or at least I forget what I was doing before," Nickie apologized. "Perhaps after you finish the story, if we're still in the mood-"
"In the nude?"
"Mood," said Nickie.
"Oh, I'm sure we will be," Honey said.
"Now then," Nickie said, making preliminary scratches on the note pad with a ball point pen. "Where do you think the girl is going?"
"Umm, let's see. Oh, to see her lover, of course."
"Of course," Nickie sighed.
"The poor, poor girl-" said Honey.
"Poor girl?" said Nickie.
Honey was warming to the subject now. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "Yes, poor girl," she said. "Because the whole evening is going to be a disaster. You see, she is going to find out that her man is a music lover. This fellow has to have this particular piece playing or else he goes limp as a dish rag."
"Umm," said Nickie. 'That is strange."
"Very. Would you like to know how it all started?"
"Oh yes indeed," Nickie was writing busily on his note pad.
"Well, when he was about fourteen he went to this piano recital. Naturally he just hated to go, but what was going to happen to him was one of the biggest moments in an adolescent boy's life."
"What moment?"
"Just be patient," said Honey. "You'll see. The recital was being held in the parlor of one of the student's houses and this family had a young aunt living with them and she had just about the biggest boobies in the whole town. In fact, some of the young men used to joke and say that if she'd display them at the county fair she'd be sure to win a prize."
"But she was a very nice girl and actually the size of her goodies just mostly bewildered her and she hardly knew what nature had given them to her for, except to hold out the front of her dress farther so the world could see her Sunday school medals. But lately a fellow who was considered the town rogue had been sniffing around auntie, and she'd been doing a bit of sniffing the breeze herself. Nothing serious, mind you. Now the rogue had fallen madly in love with auntie and he wanted to marry her, but when he asked her she said no, she never could because even though she loved him, she was respectable and he wasn't, and since it wouldn't be respectable to marry someone disrespectable, the whole thing was impossible, and she was going to marry the butcher's son, who was going to inherit his father's shop."
"Very prudent," said Nickie.
"Nickie!" Honey was shocked.
"But not very romantic," Nickie amended.
"So," said Honey, "just before the recital, auntie and her rogue had been smooching a bit behind the althea bush. It was summer and auntie had on a sleeveless dress just held up by a couple of straps. When the rogue saw that, he knew it was his big chance, and while they were kissing and feeling and all, he frayed those straps with his pocket knife.
"When auntie went in and sat down primly, her lover knew that all she had to do was take one deep breath and-a little girl was playing when it happened. Auntie was very fond of that selection and she drew in her breath and gave out this rapturous sigh and at the same time her straps broke and her bodice came down."
"Maybe the community could have forgiven her, except for one thing. She wasn't wearing a bra, and there were those great big red titties stuck out in front of every important person in town. Well, when everybody saw that and, of course, nobody thought that it's being a hot day was any excuse for not wearing decent underclothes-when everybody saw those big, big breasts, they knew about auntie. They all knew she wasn't respectable, and so she ran off and married the rogue, who she loved because now she was disrespectable like him."
"And the fourteen year old boy?" Nickie prompted.
"Oh yes. When he saw those big, wobbling, shining globes, well, his you-know-what just naturally stood up and like to split open his pants and he had to make-a little tent across his lap with the program. They were his first breasts, you understand."
"Yes," Nickie said.
"So ever after that, he could only get hot when that same piece was playing."
"Ifs very interesting," Nickie said, "but I still don't see what's so bad about it"
"For heaven's sake!" Honey cried in disbelief. "Wait! Did I tell you the name of the piece?"
"No."
"It was the Minute Waltz?" Honey said smugly. "You mean-?"
"Exactly! He no sooner turns on the record and gets into bed than the minute's up and he's got to jump up and start the thing over again. He's nothing but vienna sausage when the music stops."
"Gee," that's terrible," Nickie said.
"Terrible," Honey said. "Do you want me to tell you another story?"
"No," said Nickie. His hand was working between her lovely pulsating thighs. "Well, here we are-still in the nude."
"Mood," Honey corrected.
"Yes," Nickie said breathlessly. Honey's thighs were closed tightly about his hand, her plump buttocks writhed against the bed. She bent forward and applied her tongue to Nickie's alert manhood, caressing it with long strokes that made them both shudder with excitement.
Then, with a lunge, he flattened her and threw himself atop her heaving body. Honey's legs flew apart, her knees rose and she clutched him to her as he plunged deep into her velvety channel.
Then, for a while, there was nothing but the steady no-nonsense oscillation of hips and the frenzied pounding of Honey's feet as she dug her toes into the covers in an attempt to control her raging delight. Nickie felt her stomach tighten under him. She shoved upward wildly, and then the silence was broken by a long ecstatic scream.
"Wipeout!" She fell back panting as her cry died away. As she recovered herself, she felt exasperated. What a gauche thing to do! She grunted aloud to demonstrate to herself what she would do next time she reached her pinnacle. Well, maybe not if it were with Nickie. Wow!
She looked at him curiously. He was asleep with his glasses askew, and it was obvious that he had shared Honey's explosion.
Honey got out of bed. She wasn't sleepy; such things never made her sleepy. They made her hungry. She decided to see if she couldn't scare up a little champagne around this place. And a sandwich. Maybe he'd wake up and do her again.
The thought made Honey wiggle. She patted her soft little stomach. Gee, if she didn't cut down on love-making pretty soon, she was going to get fat! But that Nickie! Boy, had he given her an appetite!
And she didn't even know who he knew or where he had come from, just rising up from the sea like that-in a tuxedo-a pink carnation in his lapel-and poker chips.
Honey wandered into the kitchen.