Chapter 5
The shrillest ring ever invented for an alarm clock is nothing to compare to being awakened from a sound and peaceful slumber by the incessant, "ring-pause-ring-pause-ring-" of a telephone. I barely had time to realize where I was and what had happened before I was scrambling over Jeanne's naked body to pick up the phone on the night table by her side of the bed..
"Hello . . . ," I said, yawning, noting that it was ten o'clock in the morning.
"This must be Mrs. Hathaway . . . am I correct?" the very recognizable voice of Denyse DeFontayne inquired with both anger and caution.
"Oh . . . yes, Denyse," I replied, putting everything into place. "It's all right. You can talk freely. Only Jeanne and I are here and we. . . ."
"It's not all right!" her heavy, domineering voice was quick to tell me. "I told you Jeanne could go out with you . . . not spend all the night and half the next day. Goddam you, Norma, I don't know quite what you're up to, but I'll find out! This is a working day for Jeanne! I've had the studio set up since eight this morning for her try out shots! I'm having a catered luncheon for her here at noon so she can meet some of the production people for the ad agencies and designers! Where. . . ."
"Look, Denyse . . . I'm very sorry!" I yelled at the woman as poor Jeanne was desperately trying to hear every word and obviously a little frightened. "I forgot to set the alarm and we overslept. She's right here ... do you want to . . . ."
"Overslept!" Denyse's voice raged at me again. "Did I tell you you could go to bed with Jeanne . . . sleep with her? I'm generally a rather generous person, Norma, but things can get out of hand sometimes. Next time you're over to visit us or for a little Club Lesbos meeting, I'd like to have a talk with you."
"I'm surprised I'm still invited," I told her.
"Why shouldn't you be?" Denyse said, her anger disappearing as her male-like double-standard revealed itself. "I like you very much, darling. I want you to feel welcome here. You're a lovely find and it's a pity I couldn't have known you sooner. But I do need Jeanne here now, and I'm not too happy about this. Perhaps . . . you'll make it up to me in a very personal way sometime."
"Perhaps," I answered, a little puzzled. "I'll see that your new model gets there right away."
"Thank you, darling . . . goodbye," she said, then hung up.
As I put the phone down, I was aware of the noise of water running in the bathroom, and Jeanne's absence. She was taking a quick shower, obviously and did not hear the last part of Denyse's "proposition". I was upset because it appeared that if Jeanne and I were ever to be alone together, we would have to cheat on both my husband and Denyse. Yet I was still vitally interested in the Club Lesbos idea, and Denyse. I saw arguments and conflicts in the future, but no major problems. Not then, at least. I felt confident in the fact that I thought we each had so much on each other, no one could afford to "kiss and tell".
"Good morning, darling," I greeted Jeanne as she stepped out of the shower stall on to the bath mat and began to quickly dab-dry her beautiful, naked body. "I'm sorry we couldn't have awakened in each others arms . . . and legs . . . and . . ."
"I am too, Norma . . . very sorry, my dear one," Jeanne said softly, joining her lips with mine in a lingering French kiss. "Oh, I love you, Norma. But Denyse is possessive, and subject to fits of anger, bossiness, domineering. I had told her I'd be ready to do some practice modeling and let her make publicity shots this morning. And I knew about the luncheon-which I'll still make.
"Last night . . . you made me forget about everything but us. Nothing else existed but our love, Norma. You made me what I am, Norma, and I love you for it. I've always loved you and wanted you. It's a shame it has to be this way. But we'll figure something out. Denyse has Juanita and all her other girlfriends . . . we'll see each other alone, as well as at the parties.
"Here, help me get dressed and fix my hair, darling . . . and call me a cab. . . ."
"Ha!" I laughed, nuzzling her soft, naked shoulders as she worked on her hair. "You're still a little girl from Texas. If I called a cab for a Fifth Avenue address, they'd think I was crazy. You just walk out the front entrance and tell the doorman you want a taxi. He'll flag one for you in two seconds....."
Suddenly I was surrounded and covered up in my new well of loneliness. I had just kissed Jeanne goodbye and closed the door behind her. I stood there naked in the ornately furnished living room of the big Fifth Avenue apartment-a poor little rich girl. Jeanne had reentered my life so quickly and beautifully that I had been heady with the joy of it, with the bright promise of a new and wonderful sex life that I could live in private, away from Kenneth and the family.
And there was really no logical reason for me to think that my dream would not come completely true. Yet, when Jeanne left, I felt more alone, more isolated, than ever before in my life. I had resigned myself to the loneliness of being a "prisoner" to an old man and his family. I had even cheered myself with the fact that I was to inherit one third of his fortune when he died-several million dollars. And I would probably be still young enough to enjoy it, to find a new life and happiness, I had reasoned.
That was before I had discovered the beauty, the lust, the magnetically fateful strength of Lesbian love, and rediscovered Jeanne. I was lonelier than ever then as I walked into the kitchen and mechanically perked some coffee and fixed myself breakfast. I ate it all, but it had no taste. I was not hungry. I was not satisfied. Food seemed neutral. The coffee tasted like polluted water.
I walked back into the big bedroom, still naked, and looked out of the window. As I sat there staring at New York by daylight, it was very cold and un-romantic. The phallic symbols of a hundred skyscrapers did not concern me, but thoughts of Jeanne did. I looked but did not see, really. A big building was under construction to my right, and workmen were busy with welding, riveting, carpentering, cranes were lifting pre-fab concrete sections into place.
And all I thought of was Jeanne. I watched my hand roam over my breasts, the palm teasing the big nipples to erection. I then rubbed them until the itch between my upper thighs was quite strong. I pushed my hand across my stomach and through my hairy mound. The fingers touched the moistness of my cunt and pressed against my clit.
"Jeanne . . . oh, Jeanne, I want you, darling!" I cried out to myself, and then my arousal became more general! "Denyse . . . Juanita . . . Laura Lee! You all look so delicious naked, I don't know who to eat first. You're all dripping....."
I closed my eyes and I could see them all standing naked before me, thrusting their cunts out, inviting me to taste their flavors, suck their juices, lick their sexy buttocks. And there was Jeanne, naked too, standing beside me. "They'll have to eat us first," she said, and we both lay down on the thick carpet. The three girls came over and began to lick and suck our bodies as Jeanne and I engaged in a 69 sideways. I could feel tongues, fingers, hands, wet cunts, breasts, nipples, all over me.
"Oh, what a beautiful orgasm!" I exclaimed aloud, opening my eyes to find the same buildings, the same construction workers, the same traffic-clogged Fifth Avenue below. And I was alone.
The air conditioning made me shiver, and I decided to take a long, warm, relaxing shower. And then I would dress and go out to lunch at some exciting place, maybe try to give Jeanne a telephone call about three in the afternoon . . . maybe. And then I would get an early train back to Pleasantville before the rush hour, and a cab home. I would settle back into the life I had known for several years.
But there was so much promise! I radiated with feeling and pleasurable sensations as I sudsed my body creamily and washed all over, arousing myself pleasantly as I bathed my breasts' and pussy. Yes, I was feeling a lot better. Every day, I could go to the shopping center near home and call Jeanne. And I would see her a lot too, both at the parties and alone. It would all work out. I was filled with new hope and confidence as I stepped out on the bath mat and took a clean Turkish towel from the bathroom closet.
Only then, did I realize I was not alone!
"Ken!" I cried out, covering myself awkwardly with the towel as I looked at the confident smirk on my stepson's attractive, 36 year old face as he watched me and sipped leisurely from a glass of Bourbon on the rocks. "What . . . when did you come in ... ? Get out, Ken. I'm naked. . . ."
"Yes, I know," he said with a harsh, smutty laugh, smiling at me. "I would have announced myself when I first came into the apartment, but you were putting on such an exciting show-your self orgy in front of the window-that I was speechless. Jeanne must be quite a girl. She couldn't wait to get between those beautiful legs, could she . . . Mother? These ripped and torn pantyhose could tell quite a story, I imagine....."
I was speechless as I saw the torn pantyhose dangling from his left hand as he sipped on his drink, held in his right hand. How much did he know? Had he followed me? Had he been in the apartment last night? No! Impossible. I bolted the doors from the inside. Unless ... he had come to the apartment first, guessing that I might bring my girlfriend there. I was on the verge of panicl "And you could act so well in the new rage of sex movies," Ken commented, leering as he sniffed the torn crotch of the pantyhose, then took them away from his face. "Ah, the beauty and wonder of Lesbian love! What was it you were saying in the bedroom there a moment ago? 'Jeanne' Jeanne, I want you . . . Denyse, Juanita, Laura Lee . . .' My God, Mother dear, I never realized you had so many . . . lovers! I'd love to meet some of them. I'd love to meet Jeanne especially."
"I'll deny anything you say!" I said angrily, trying to slip on my terry-cloth robe without revealing too much. "You have a great imagination, Ken. Most men do. You can't seem to realize that two girls who were close friends would enjoy spending a night talking for hours on end. Kenneth is perfectly aware that I invited Jeanne to spend the night with me."
I was amazed at myself. I was not cracking up under the strain, the awful guilt feeling that pounded through my brain. I tied the sash around the robe and put my feet in a pair of slippers and shoved right past Ken as I went into the bedroom.
"Your father wouldn't approve of' your breaking in on me like this, Ken," I continued my counterattack more bravely. "If you don't leave right now, I may just call him on his private line at the office."
"Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!" Ken burst out in ribald laughter, sauntering into the bedroom and fixing himself a fresh drink, glancing over at me, then pouring a liberal amount of Scotch into a glass with ice cubes. "Here, Norma . . . have a drink. And if you want to call Father, be my guest. And then I'll be glad to tell him I was worried about you and dropped by here. The bedroom door was open and there was water running in the shower. When I found the ripped up pantyhose, I became very, very worried. Murderers and rapists use stockings to strangle their victims. And how many movies have I seen where the rape-murder victim's body was found in a running shower or immersed in an overflowing bathtub?
"No way, Mother Norma. I only did what anyone would have done under the same circumstances. Did I make a pass at you? Did I touch you? Did I ogle and make remarks about how sexy you look naked. Did I pantingly beg you to let me do anything immoral or illegal? Did I?"
"You have got a vivid imagination," I responded, avoiding his question, becoming a little less confident. "Jeanne and I had a wonderful time. We had a little too much to drink. It was hilarious. After I took off my pantyhose while we were getting ready for bed, she wanted to play a game of tug-of-war with me while I still had one leg of them in my hand."
"Beautiful . . . beautiful story," Ken observed, throwing his head back to toss some of the wavy blonde mass back on top, where it belonged, and pocketing the torn pantyhose. If that was all the evidence I had, you might get by with it."
"What ... what the hell do you mean - 'evidence?' I blared, gulping down the cold Scotch and fixing myself another one. "I told you that Kenneth knows Jeanne spent the night with me here. I told him, and he thoroughly approved!"
"Yes . . . Father told me this morning, " Ken admitted, perching his elbow at the end of the bar and staring at me with his X-ray leer. "I ... I didn't want to upset him . . . just then. So I did not mention that Cissy and I left home right after supper last night to pick up a very trusted friend of hers and then beat the train you were on into Manhattan.
"Cissy knew you were going to meet Jeanne at Denyse DeFontayne's . . . not at her 'hotel', as you told Father. Well . . . by 9:30 last night, Cissy, her friend, and I were double parked right across the street from Miss DeFontayne's building. We all three saw you enter at 9:40. We saw a very sexy and well-known young Negro model enter too. And it was over an hour, probably almost two hours later, that we saw you and Jeanne leave and walk up to the Lexington Avenue corner and grab a taxi.
"We thought you looked very sweet, very lovable. Arms together, pausing to hug and kiss and embrace!"
"Girlfriends ... do that quite often," I said hesitantly, pouring another drink and feeling the panic approach once more. "And . . . well, I just couldn't barge in and say nothing more than 'hello' to Jeanne's new employer. And . . . then another one of her regular models came by for a social visit. You have a nasty imagination, Ken."
"Sure . . . and so will Father when all three of us tell him exactly what we saw!" Ken said, moving toward me and pointing his finger at me accusingly. "You lied to him. Why? Why did you tell him you were going to meet Jeanne at her hotel? Why? Because you know how he feels about homosexuality, males or females either one! And Cissy had just let you know that it was common knowledge that Denyse DeFontayne is widely known to be a butch Les, and that anyone who models for her has to give in to her sex wants and desires! Let's see . . . that means that we have solid evidence you were in the company of at least three notorious Lesbians for over two hours in the apartment of the woman famous for her Club Lesbos. Next, you were seen kissing and embracing on a public street with a girl who, because of her relationship with Denyse, must be a Lesbian. And then you took her up to our otherwise unoccupied apartment-right here-and started ripping each others' clothes off and . . . And look at that bed! It's pretty obvious two people had a ball there last night!
"And now, Mother, Norma . . . the prosecution rests!"
I could see him reading my mind as I gulped down yet another drink. I was guilty as hell, and I knew that he knew. Ken's an unscrupulous bastard. His mind was as awful and sick and tormented as mine. It takes one to know one. But there was no guilt on his part. He was a single man. He could lead any kind of life he wanted to and get away with it. Anything but a homosexual act would keep him in the good graces of Kenneth.
"Is . . . that all you have to say?" I asked, shaking, ready to burst into tears. "Are you and Cissy and her friend going to tell Kenneth now? Is that your plan? Is it?"
"I don't know, Norma," he said, slumping into a chair by the bed and holding his head in his hands, appearing as troubled as I was. "He'd divorce you immediately, if we did, of course. He'd find a way. And . . . well, you know the terms of his will. Cissy, you and I are to receive one third of the estate each. But it has that damned moral-turptude clause in it. It's spelled right out! I don't recall the exact wording, but it's something like - 'If any of the benefactors mentioned in this document should be known to have committed disgraceful and/or immoral acts during the time between the filing of this will and testament and my death, they shall be excluded entirely, thereby receiving no financial or property benefits from this estate. Even the documented circumstantial evidence of immoral, particularly homosexual, conduct will serve to exclude such person. . . . etc., etc., etc'. Poor old Dad and his hang-up about homosexuality ... to even spell it out in his will!"
I remained silent, sipping slowly on my new drink as I sat on one of the bar stools close to Ken.
At first, I had not realized that he was putting on an act. He could not have cared less for "poor old Dad". It was his way of telling me that he and Cissy held a noose around my neck. If they told him, I would be thrown out without a dime . . . worse off than when I was 19 and looking forward to life. I was not qualified to do anything productive. I couldn't even type!
"You and Cissy would do anything, I guess, to keep me out of that will," I commented meekly, the whiskey hitting me. "A hundred million dollars net worth . . . that's what I heard. You'd rather have fifty million each than thirty-three and a third million. Yeah . . . ha-hal Oh, it's hilarious, isn't it, Ken? What the hell are you going to do with the extra sixteen or seventeen million? Will it buy Cissy more husbands? Will it buy you out of more paternity cases?"
"There's no proof of that!" Ken snapped, turning around to me and slamming his glass on the bar until most of his drink sloshed out. "I've denied every one of them! Father knows how cheap and trampish some girls are. It was his idea to pay them off and forget it."
"And Cissy . . . and Lisette," I said slowly, more in charge of myself and not giving a damn. "I know what's going on there! What would 'poor old Dad' think of Lisette taking an hour and longer to give Cissy a bath almost every day?"
"Lisette can be bought!" Ken declared, reaching over the bar to get a bottle of whiskey and replenish his drink as he faced me angrily. "She'd deny it to her dying day. Father would blame you for having an evil mind if you ever brought that up. It's your word and your word only! And besides, as Cissy told you, we are used to luxurious treatment from servants. If I have a Turkish bath and massage at my club three times a week, does my father think I'm queer for the masseur? Of course not.
"Norma . . . you don't know how to live the life of people who have money, and who have had money all their lives! You've lost the battle! And . . . you know it....."
"What ... is it you want from me?" I asked in total defeat, holding my head with my right hand and staring at him. "You are one thousand percent right in every accusation you've made. I have no defense.. . ."
"Well!" Ken cut me off with a sudden change of mood, and even a smile that was not a smirk. "You're showing some common sense for a change, Norma. Cissy and I know that Father's ideas are old fashioned, restricting . . . terrible! But we play the game! Cissy gets a nice, clean divorce when she wants to switch out of house lovers. I deny and pay "Wait . . . wait just a second, goddam you!" I interrupted, my brain functioning remarkably well. "You said 'out of house lovers'. That could refer to her Lesbian bits with Lisette. But Lisette's only been working for us a few months or more. Damn! You're having sex with your own sister! You and Cissy are lovers! It has to be . . . the time I saw you sneaking into her bedroom! The day at the beach when you shared a bath cabin. I didn't think anything of it at the time. But now I know. You're having incest with Cissy!"
I had blown it. I had made my big accusation of something I considered far more forbidden than homosexuality. But Ken just fixed me with that stare. He was a leering, corrupt, creature of sex again. His eyes looked down at my legs exposed by the gaping robe. They traveled up my body until he was staring into my eyes again. I knew and he knew I knew. We telegraphed in the same telepathic way of communication that I experienced with Jeanne.
I was high enough to think things out. Cissy was a very sexy female. In spite of his slightly effeminate neatness, Ken was quite sexually attractive too. They were very, very close, close enough for anything. And the gleam in his eye told me more. He wanted me. Cissy wanted me. They had evidence about my affair with Jeanne, visiting Denyse DeFontayne's. I had nothing on them. - I raised my eyes to Ken's again. The confident smirk was on his lips. Or maybe it was more of a leering, corrupt, debauched and obscene grin. His eyes refused to leave mine as he took off his jacket to his suit and backed the few feet to the chair by the bed. He hung it over the back of the chair. He took off his tie and folded it over the jacket. He unbuttoned his shirt and put it over the back too.
I turned away from him and went behind the bar. I had to have another drink. I was slightly dizzy as it was, but I needed the drink. It was early, barely eleven in the morning. If I got drunk, I figured that I could sleep it off, take a fresh shower and still be back at our home by 6:30, the time Kenneth and Ken usually arrived home (except for Wednesday, their "early day").
The iced Scotch trickled tastily down my throat and mellowed me even more. When I looked up and saw Ken walking to the bar completely naked and with at least half an erection, my reaction was neutral. I felt absolutely nothing at that moment, but I forced a smile, and I looked at him as if to say- "Okay, Sonny Boy. You call the shots. I don't care. You want me? Want me to suck your cock? Want me to . . . suck your . . . cock. . . . ?"
I looked at his lean, slim, clean, fresh body up and down. He had very light hairs on his body, except for the pubic hairs. They were a light brown, compared to the blonde, wavy mop on his head. Ken had no muscular, no super-virile appearance. He was almost as fresh, neat and clean as a female with no breast developement! I was still behind the bar, but just as he moved up and sat down on one of the stools, I thought I saw his cock rising more.
"I'll have a refill on the drink, barmaid," he said, pushing his glass to the back of the bar and smiling at me for the first time I had known him with what might be called at least normal, friendly and flirtatious sexual interest. "And let me buy you a fresh one too. I . . . I'll go put some money in the jukebox while I'm waiting. Maybe you'd like to dance a little later. . . ."
Ken walked over to the stereo his father had ordered built in only the year before. He tuned in one of the FM stations that plays uninterrupted, 15 minute segments of dreamy, romantic, nostalgic music. Just the music, no vocals, unless maybe a sort of choral introduction or conclusion of the theme of a melody. As he worked with the dials to be sure that the station was tuned just right (it was a multiplex station and he cupped one ear and then the other to see that the different sounds were balanced from the separated loudspeakers), I took a great interest in his body.
My feelings were no longer neutral, I realized. In fact, there was the old itch between my legs again. In a way, it made ne feel very good. Although he was my husband's son ... he was a male. If he was capable of turning me on, that would mean I was not a real Lesbian! I could be bi-sexual, but not a homosexual. And that made me wonder if my guilt feelings had more to do with my own hostility toward homosexuality than with my fidelity to Kenneth.
I had been so engrossed in deep thought that I had not even fixed the drinks. When Ken came back to sit back at the bar, I noticed that his cock was much larger than I had thought! He was almost fully hard, and he was amused as I tried to look over the bar at it when he sat down.
"Where the hell are the goddam drinks?" he yelled at me, then without warning, slapped me brutally across my face. "You want some more of that, Norma . . . and you'll get it! Maybe . . . you don't fully understand what Cissy and I can do. Father's got a bad heart, you know. He could go tomorrow ... or last for several years. But whenever he dies, we can have you cut out of that will one thousand percent!
"Get that fucking drink fixed for me ... and have another one yourself, if you think you can take it . . . lush! Yeah . . . Cissy and I know you're a lush. Father wouldn't care for that either ... if we had Lisette tell him how much booze you consume in a week. Oh, don't blame Lisette. She's a pretty helpless pawn too. Cissy hired her after her former employer was going to kick her out . . . turn in a report to the visa office that she was 'immoral and unfit' to be allowed to stay in the country. Listen to me, Mother Norma! Lisette goes along with Cissy one thousand percent! She has to. She has to because unless she can get about three more years in this country as a good person of 'moral quality' . . . she'll never get that American citizenship. And she'd give her life for that!"
I quickly fixed our drinks and set them up on the bar. I noticed that the top of my robe was gaping open and exposing most of my large breasts (perhaps that was what made him hard). I put both the Bourbon and Scotch bottles up on the bar, having filled our glasses with abundant ice, and then walked around and sat beside Ken.
"You want to fuck me, don't you?" I said brazenly, untying the sash at my waist. "Well . . . why not? I gather that you and Cissy have your fun, and keep it from Kenneth-dear old Dad! Why shouldn't I enjoy myself too? Oh, you've got a beautiful cock, Ken? May I eat you?"
"You're coming around too fast!" he said, holding up his hand. "You're goddam right, I want to fuck you. But there is one hell of a lot more to sex than fucking! You think I want to stick it in you and shoot off? No, Norma. I like things a little different . . . out of the ordinary crap . . . the missionary position, sucking off . . . what if I told you I wanted to watch you being sucked off by those . . . those Lesbians at Club Lesbos?"
"No go," I replied, trying to focus my eyes on his cock as I grabbed hold of it. "Most of them are pure Les-no men. Men are poison to them. . . ."
"What about your friend Jeanne?" he asked, reveling in my pumping up and down of his surprisingly large and hard cock (the flesh was very white and only the large vein on top showed up to any degree). "She's a model . . . must have to satisfy a man every now and then. Huh?"
"You like her, don't you?" I asked, realizing that I was capable of jealousy too.
"Yeah . . . and so would Cissy!" he said, his eyes blaring at me. "Sure, Norma . . . you're right. Cissy likes her girls, but she likes me better. None of her shitty husbands could take her away from me. She can't live without this cock! She's had this cock since we were kids, and she loves it! Ha! And you like the nice, hard, fucking feel of it, don't you?"
"What if I told you . . . I'd rather suck it off?" I asked bluntly.
"Why?" he said with a laugh, adding, "Afraid I'll make you pregnant! I had the vasectomy bit when I was 19 years old! That's why Father knew I was being taken on those paternity charges. But the cunts could have made a flap. I had been fucking them. Hey . . . you like that nice, hard cock, don't you? You like to feel it and play with it? That's good cock, isn't it?"
"Yes ... I want to suck it," I said very casually, sophisticatedly. "I want to suck your cock, Ken . . . and swallow down your come . . . every drop! Does that surprise you?"
"Hell, no!" he answered me with his degrading laugh, looking down at my fingers as they toyed and teased the big cock, suggested going under the cock. "I'm hip to what Father likes. He can't get it up much any more . . . but a nice, young thing like you . . . you can make him get his nuts off if you suck it long enough and play up to his quirks."
"And what do you like, Ken?" I asked him with deliberate sexiness, leaning over to suck his right nipple between my teeth. "Do you like that? Do you want to watch me masturbate? Out with it, Ken!
You've got me over a barrel and....."
"Ha! Over a barrel!" he repeated amidst gales of obscene laughter. "Yeah ... I'd like to stick this big, hard cock right up your fucking ass . . . Mother dear. Would that make me a motherfucker? Ha! Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha! Come on, cunt . . . let's take off that silly, goddam robe and be naked like me ... . huh?"
I got off the bar stool and took off my robe, standing before him naked. The way he looked at me was far different than in the bathroom an hour or less before. The naked body he saw at the bar then was his. I was his slave! And I stood there, like a nude statue, thrusting out my large breasts. I waited for his next move, and I vowed to myself not to be surprised, no matter what he wanted to do.
"Very good goods!" Ken said, teasing me by running his fingers over my breasts, especially the nipples, then down over my belly and into the pubic hair. "That's one thing that gets me . . . that little mound of fatty, firm flesh right above your cunt Yours is good . . . lots of gristly meat . . . but smooth under that thick rug of black hair. I'm not used to black cunt hair very much. . . ."
"Don't you have sex with anyone but Cissy . . . and Lisette?" I asked, my lips curling into a seductive smile as I let my naked body sway beneath his fingertips. "Doesn't your father ever think it strange that you don't have an interest in other girls?"
"He could care less," Ken laughed, sipping from his drink and holding mine up to my mouth. "Ah . . . good stuff! All Father thinks about is making more money . . . and you! But, I date other girls occasionally. You know, the country-club bitches in 'our' set. Sometimes they fuck, sometimes they don't. Ha! I dated that crazy bitch Martha Springer last month. After the first fuck, it was easy to tell why she's never been married."
"Oh!" I said with interest, remembering the attractive redhead very well. "Does she like girls?"
"Nope," Ken replied teasing his fingers more and more into my pubic hair. "I took her to a motel one night. We had a drink, and she was already undressing. She let me fuck her . . . like a damned log. And then she got me all hot again by playing with my cock and sucking it. I thought maybe she was really going to enjoy it the second time. But what does she want? She looked up at me and said, 'Ken, ... I want a young boy! You know some of the young caddies at the golf course . . . or maybe they have younger brothers. I want a boy with no hair . . . and whose balls haven't dropped yet . . .' I suppose it would have been kicks watching her with a kid, she claims she used to have a lot of them when her old man was a diplomat in Asia, but I'm not about to get in that kind of trouble."
"Hm-mmm," I mused, playing with the head of his cock and teasingly fingering his balls, trying to analyze that last statement. "But ... if there wasn't any possibility of getting in trouble . . . would you enjoy a young boy too? It sounds . . . sort of interesting. . . ."
"Oh, hell, I've sucked a cock here and there . .
who hasn't?" he came right out with no shame. "But she wanted one right then . . . wanted me to go right out and find a young boy! Now, if you want to take plenty of time, play it careful ... I know where we can pick up some damned young teenagers in the Bronx."
"How did we ever get on that subject?" I asked, more interested in action then! "What's your particular desire with a woman like me?"
"The usual . . . fucking . . . sucking," he said with an indifferent shrug, but his cock was throbbing! "I like to watch two girls with each other. And . . . turn around a minute, Norma. Turn around, godammit! Or have you forgotten that you're over a barrel anyway? Now, lean way, way over the bar stool. Oh, that's a nice ass . . . Mother!"
It was sticking up almost in his face too, and I was becoming more and more itchy. I wanted him to do something, but I was almost afraid, because he seemed so matter-of-fact, so cold. When he asked me to lean over was the first time he had shown any demonstrative interest in me, except to tease my cunt hairs and say things that aroused me.
The itch between my legs throbbed when I felt his hands opening, spreading the cheeks of my ass! I could feel his hot breath as his face came closer and he seemed to be examining my asshole and crease very closely. I was dripping from my cunt, and he took a linen napkin from a pile of them at the edge of the bar and reached under to wipe me dry. But the cloth rubbing around and then inside my pussy, against my sensitive clitoris and inner lips, only served to turn me on more.
I gasped, sighed, wriggled my body. He liked that. I could hear him breathing faster as he took the linen napkin out, rolled it up and began to slowly insert one end of it into my cunt with a twisting, screwing motion. When it was only an inch or a little more inside me, he stopped.
"There . . . that's going to be nice," he commented breathlessly, then leaned over me and put his face against mine, kissing my ear lobes and neck. "You're nice and clean . . . perfumed soap, but none of that smelly cologne and junk. You stay right here and let that napkin soak up some more of your cunt juices, Mother dear. I'll be right back....."
I watched him walk out the door and down the hall to the bedroom that was his. Each bedroom had a private bath and was very well furnished and equipped. I was very anxious and a little tense. But the music seemed to make me feel more comfortably sexy. Of course, the Scotch had a lot to do with it too. After he had been gone two minutes or more, I moved my ass around and could feel the linen napkin becoming soaked in my cunt. The texture of the material was different. It stimulated me with sensations I had not experienced before, and I wanted Ken to hurry back. I wanted him to twist the rolled napkin in me farther so that I could feel the linen rub strongly against me.
My curiosity and suspense increased with every second that he was gone. I thought I heard him talking to someone on the telephone, and my mind immediately pictured a third party arriving-Cissy? A male friend? Some other girl? It was fairly obvious that he wanted to do something regarding my ass. But if he wanted to fuck me there, why was he plugging up my pussy, which could provide the much needed lubricants? And then I felt a little bit uneasy. Was he going to force-fuck my anus with no lubrication? That would be as bad as when Kenneth jabbed me there with one or two fingers. My body began to shudder when he came back into the room.
"What . . . were you doing?" I asked, obediently in the same position as he left me, and noticing a small, glass vial filled with an almost colorless liquid in his hand. "What . . . what's that?"
"No questions now, Norma dear," he said, acting like a mischievous little boy doing delightfully 'naughty' things when his parents were away. "I think surprises are so nice. But ... I could have alcohol or lighter fluid in the glass vial. Maybe I'm going to soak your pretty cunt in it, light it . . . and do like the French pilots . . . fighter pilots-go down in flames! Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!
"Maybe that's the idea . . . maybe not. I was a fighter pilot, you know. No draft-dodger me, my dear, Of course there was no war then, and I wanted something exciting to do, and there was a possibility I might be drafted. So I joined the Air Force and served my country honorably ... stationed in Germany and France most of my time . . . fucking the little Frenchies and the fraeuleins" "You . . . must have had a good time there," I said, moaning pleasurably as he twisted the soaked linen napkin further up into my cunt. "Did you try these cute little tricks on them?"
"I was a mere babe then, Norma," he replied, crouching at my side and kissing my breasts and face as he continued to work on getting the napkin in farther. "Twenty-two years old. But the French and German girls taught me a lot about sex. When I was stationed at Chateauroux, France, I met this beautiful young girl from a very cultured and respectable family . . . royalty in the background and all that. Her father was dead, and her mother was; almost as beautiful as you are.
"Their noble births had nothing to do with their financial condition, and they were so bad off they rented rooms at their villa to American servicemen and their wives who didn't have quarters on their base. I was very good to them, bought them a lot of things at the P-X. Oh, I was fucking the daughter, of course. And she was a pretty bizarre little creature too. She liked to walk through the streets late at night to watch men peeing. That's quite common over there, you know.
"One evening, when 15 year old Yvonne and I were smooching on the couch and drinking the best brandy, her mother came in to join us. We all became drunk and loving, and before long . . . we were all three naked, and there I was-fucking Yvonne while her mother watched. You have no idea, Norma, what a tremendous sexual impact something like that has on a man. Oh . . . the napkin's all the way in. Does it hurt?"
"No ... it feels good," I answered truthfully, rotating my buttocks sensually. "But . . . what are you going to do to me? Who did you call on the phone when you were gone. . . ."
"I noticed the gleam in Yvonne's mother's eyes as she watched my cock go in and out of her lovely 15 year old daughter," he continued, ignoring my question deliberately, arousing me in three different ways! "I was fucking her on the couch. Yvonne was crying it was so good. Her mother came and joined us, and then we went to her bedroom . . . the three of us naked in bed. I was so psyched, I could fuck Yvonne, let her suck me up hard again in five minutes, then fuck hell out of her horny mother, while Yvonne lay beside us and kissed and whispered horny things about how she liked to watch her mother be fucked.
"They acted funny when I first asked them to kiss and feel each other . . . but then they got hot. Yvonne could get my dick up kissing me on the mouth. So, they got with it! Yvonne had a body a little like your friend, Jeanne, I imagine. Her mother was bigger, but solid-firm tits, firm ass, big thighs. I got hard again watching them kiss and rub their cunts together.
"I persuaded them to get on the bed and eat each others' pussies. Oh, Norma . . . Norma! I had never been so aroused in my life! I had seen fuck movies and jacked off when I was in high school, but . . to watch a beautiful woman of 32 or 33 sucking the little pussy of her own, 15 year old daughter!
"Yvonne's ass twitched, and I pushed her mother's head aside just so I could watch the woman's crazy tongue lapping and licking in the juicy hole I had been fucking. Yvonne's blonde hair was soft, still: very soft and light on her pussy. I held her lips open so that I could see her mother's big tongue licking and lapping way inside the tight pussy!
"I moved down by the side of their bodies. I felt between the woman's big tits and her daughter's flat, smooth, palpitating belly. Tender! Juicy! Mother and daughter! You would . . . have loved to see it, Norma. I know . . . because I know now what kind of woman you are. You're the kind I like ... the kind Cissy likes. And when you get Cissy in that Lesbian club, Cissy can do a lot of things for you, Norma....."
"What . . . what's that funny smell?" I interrupted, sniffing a sweet, yet stringent odor that I had not noticed before. "Is it . . . chewing gum? Are you chewing gum, Ken?"
"No ... I was a few minutes ago. Peppermint or spearmint or something," he replied.
"Yes . . . yes, that must be it . . . peppermint," I responded, but I was not convinced that he was telling me the truth, could not understand at that 'innocent' moment why such an odor would have any significance. "Go on, Ken. Keep twisting the napkin a little and tell me the rest of the story. You're making me have delicious little orgasms."
"The two girls were so with-it that they were slightly perspiring. My hand slid easily between their bodies," he went on in a very sexy, smooth voice, his breath blowing lightly in my ear. "I could turn my hand palm-up and grab and squeeze Mother's titties. Palm down, and I could feel over Yvonne's naked belly. Then . . . farther up, their navels. Her mother's navel was inverted, stuck out a little from her body. Yvonne's was a nice little dip. I used to drink champagne out of it sometimes.
"As I slid my hand out, I guided the mother's inverted navel into her daughter's regular navel! I told them to fuck navels! And they did! They began to slap their stomachs together, and I knelt by their sides to see the inverted navel go in and out of the girl's! It was marvelous! I came all over the floor, but went right on enjoying myself.
"The pressure of Yvonne's breasts pressing up up against her mother's belly was very sexy to feel too. And I had one free hand that seemed anxious to do something. Why? Ah-ha! There was the woman's big, fat, shapely ass! It was going up and down as Yvonne licked and sucked at the hairy crotch. Ah! Big ass! I began to spank the living hell out of the woman's buttocks. Yvonne screamed and begged me not to. Her mother was crying and telling me not to stop at the same time!
"I continued to spank and spank and spank those two, reddening mounds of meat! She began to have orgasms, and I moved down a little farther and spread the cheeks of her ass and looked between them. Oh, what a perfect view, Norma! My cock started getting hard immediately when I saw little Yvonne's tongue lapping up the juices from her mother's open cunt. She diddled her tongue into the red and pink recesses of the woman's fat-lipped pussy and almost put her whole face in it when she began to suck it real loudly.
"My cock started to throbbing on me, Norma! My mind fathomed the most beautiful sex scene I could imagine! I had already fucked the 15 year old daughter many times, and fucked her mother that1 night and been sucked off by both of them. But when I looked down over that asshole and saw Yvonne's tongue doing its work, I slid up on the bed, with my knees straddling Yvonne! It was wild, Norma!
"It was awkward to get into position because the backs of my knees were right in little Yvonne's hairy armpits-they don't shave them in Europe, you know -and they made her mother's legs spread extra wide. But once we got into position, it was the most beautiful and wonderful thing I had ever dreamed of!
"My ass was on Yvonne's young face. Her hands opened the cheeks and her little tongue was treating my asshole and the area under my balls to wonderful French sex! And then! Then, I put the head of my throbbing cock into her mother's asshole and shoved it home, after I had juiced it in her cunt a few strokes to get it ready. The woman screamed! But I was like a sadistic madman ... a fiend! Her ass was tight! But I was so hard and horny that I kept fucking her. I was soon fucking my whole cock into her ass and let go with a big load of come as Yvonne still licked my asshole.
"Later, her mother admitted that she liked it. Each time I was there after that, I had to fuck Monique, Yvonne's mother, in her ass! And the end of the story is that I lost interest in Yvonne, and I saw her mother for sex almost every night until I was transferred back to the States for separation.
"Oh . . . oh, Ken!" I exclaimed, feeling his thumb at my anus as he continued to move the rolled napkin that was blocking my cunt. "Oh, Ken! I'm coming again ... oh ... so .. . goo-ood. . . oh....."
The story he told me made things fit together It was my ass he wanted, and he deliberately teased me with his sexy voiced account of the French adventure as well as by blocking off my cunt. He was getting closer by thumbing my anus. But I still wondered if he was going to lubricate my anus! Even if he rimmed it with his tongue, I knew that my ass was too tight to take a cock as big as his.
I wanted to suck his cock long and leisurely, which would have helped some. But I wanted something more greasy or oily, at least my cunt juices! Why had he plugged up my cunt! And the odor! The strange, strong, sweet, mint odor. What was it? The suspense and anxiety built up in me until I was ready to scream!
Just at that moment, Ken moved the next bar stool over so that I could rest my head on it. Immediately, I felt less dizzy and turned my head toward him. His cock was right at my mouth. I covered the white, neat shaft with my mouth and began to tongue and suck it, letting all the saliva possible lubricate it. He began to thrust his ass back and forth, fucking my mouth. I had a sudden desire to suck him off right then and taste his come! I wanted to take his come and let it roll over my tongue and then swallow it!
"Oh, no, Mother Norma," he said, stepping back and making his cock slide from my mouth as he grabbed a clean linen napkin to wipe the rod dry. "I know what you're thinking. You don't want me to jab this hard one up your ass unless it's well greased! Yeah . . , you know what I'm going to do now . . . but you don't know all of it.
"When I was looking at that .... "brownie', I believe you call it in the South, I noticed some pretty raw marks. Father likes to jab his fingers up girls' asses. I learned that from a whore he used to go to right after Mother died. So that means you're awfully sensitive there . . . more than I am on my cock So, we need some lubrication if I fuck your ass . . , right?"
"Yes . . . please, Ken," I begged him, although I shook with desire for him to fuck me anywhere!
"Very well!" he responded dramatically, picking up the vial of almost clear liquid he had set down on the bar. "This is oil of peppermint! A druggist I know fixes it up for me in these little vials. It's a wonderful lubricant . . . but it stings!"
I started to protest, realizing how my sore and bruised flesh would absorb the stringent liquid so painfully. But what was the use? At that moment, I was his slave. I was Cissy's slave. I grasped the rungs of the stool my head was on, like I used to grab the arms of the dentist's chair when he drilled into a nerve on a tooth he was getting ready to fill "Oh! Oh, Ken . . . it . . . it's burning me up!" I howled when he poured the first drops in my ass.
"Plea . . . please . . . something else. God . . . I'm on fire!"
My pleadings were useless, of course. He opened up my anus with his fingers and forced the hot, burning liquid deep into my ass . . . where his cock would be. I saw that the vial was over half empty. I watched him hold his hard cock from underneath and pour the rest of the oil all over it. He fondled his cock to spread it out well over the shaft and head. He dropped the small vial and its cork into an ashtray. And then he got behind me, the alignment perfect as he stood there behind my ass that was over the first bar stool!
"Ken! I'm on fire!" I screamed, feeling the perspiration pour from the sweat glands all over my body, and particularly on my face, my forehead. "Ken! Please ... be good and . . . Ah! Ah! Ah!"
The pain was excruciatingly unbearable! My tight ass was being opened by the penetration of his huge, hard cock! The stinging, burning oil seeped into more sensitive spots than before as his entrance stretched my already bruised flesh! I was hurting so much that I was just about to try to pull away from him as he plunged it all the way in!
Suddenly, although the pain and stinging, searing burning was still there, I began to enjoy it! The fucking motion of his big, nice cock . . . the way it went in and out, just like he was fucking my pussy (and I felt sure that he would do that later in our new relationship), brought a "pain of relief", perhaps a mixture of pleasure and pain that made it all seem worthwhile and exciting..
"Oh . . . oh . . . oh, Ken," I moaned as his whole body leaned over on top of mine. "You do know what kind of a female I am. God, Ken! In my ass! And I love it so much I want to kiss you. . . ."
"What . . . what if Cissy were with us?" he asked, still stroking in and out of my ass while I began to move my buttocks to meet his thrusts. "Would you like for her to be kissing your body, putting her hot and horny cunt in your face? Would you like that, Norma?"
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" I screamed, picturing the usually aloof and snobbish (but pretty) stepdaughter naked and parting her legs. "Ken! I'll do anything with the two of you. Will she want me to suck her pussy? Does she secrete a lot? Is she sensitive at her anus?"
"She secretes like a leaking water fountain!" Ken said, pulling it out, pushing it in and panting like he loved it. "I've been fucking Cissy since we were kids! There's only about one other guy she'll let have her, otherwise it's me or some other girl. This is going to be a great surprise for her, Norma. Ever since the first day she saw you . . . when Father brought you back from Texas . . . she's wanted to get between your legs and with your tits. . . ."
"Did . . . did she put Lisette up to seducing me?" I asked, reaching around to feel his cock lightly as it plowed in my rectum and then eased out.
"No ... I don't think so," Ken panted. "Lisette's a two-timing little cunt, like most French bitches. Cissy caught her with the next door maid's 16 year old daughter. You know, the pretty Negro kid, Agnes? Yeah ... oh, would I liked to have seen that! But anyway, Lisette had only been here about two weeks and had promised her love to Cissy and no one else-except I was to get a little-and Cissy was having a mid-afternoon hot spell. She looked all around for Lisette, and went out to her little apartment in the servants' building and busted right into Lisette's bedroom. She said it was sexy as hell to see that blonde Lisette with her head down in Agnes' black cunt . . . and vice verse. They were sucking away like two starved pigs who had just found their mother.
"But you know Cissy. She's a mean bitch when she wants to be. She got her kicks that afternoon by beating both their asses bloody with a riding crop. Lisette couldn't do anything because she's depending on a good report from Cissy to keep her immigration visa. And Cissy threatened to tell Agnes' mother and the Tarrington's, the people she works for. Hal That was one scared little nigger' cunt, as you say in the South....."
"Oh . . . oh, Ken . . . I've never had so much cock up my ass!" I said, squirming uneasily as the peppermint oil had been absorbed and the friction was painfully dry. "Put . . . some more oil on it, Ken. I'm getting dry....."
"You're sort of in the same position little Agnes was," Ken responded, and the meanness had crept back into his voice. "You have to go along with the program, Norma. I've got a tough cock! My kick when I was in Germany was to get virgins . . . real young ones, thirteen or so. Those fucking Europeans will do anything for the right price, and money is something I've always had plenty of. . . ."
"Did they cry? Did someone have to hold them down?" I asked with increasing excitement, surprised at myself for the masochistic streak in my personality that I discovering. "Oh! Ow, Ken! You're killing me! You'll tear me open! It's dry!"
"Too bad I didn't bring in another vial of that oil of peppermint," he said, then gave out with a hollow, sadistic laugh! "But you won't die, Norma. You should have seen some of those German girls! There was a real sweet blonde about 13 . . . maybe 14, but sweet. She had a little titty on her, a good mouthful if I sucked real hard. And what a tender young ass!
"Her name was Inga . . . used to hang around the BOQ [Bachelor Officers Quarters] a lot because her mother was one of the maids there. Typical, blonde, pretty, Aryan kraut ... and her mother wasn't bad either. I use to kid with her, with both of them . . . give them a carton of cigarettes, candy, some choice steak cuts I bought from the Mess Sergeant at the Officer's Club. I'd keep it frozen in polybags in the refrigerator in the BOQ, and Inga's mother could take home three each evening-she had another kid, but no husband.
"Well ... I'd been looking up Inga's dress and used to kiss her on the lips when nobody was around. She liked it . . . liked to put her little tongue . . . in my mouth too-damn, you are getting dry and tight, but my cock can take it-and one thing led to another. Before long, she was playing with my cock and I was sucking her little kid pussy-no hair, no real lips, just a slit. But I could get her hot.
"I bought her mother a bottle of Napolean Brandy one day and put five, hundred mark bills around it with rubber bands. She asked what I wanted. Oh, she knew I wasn't doing her all those favors for nothing. And she knew that five hundred marks and the most expensive brandy in Europe was going to cost her something.
"Funny thing about those Europeans. When I told her I wanted to fuck her daughter's cherry and see if I could fuck her in the ass, the crazy woman seemed relieved! She was all for it . . . knowing she was finally going to get rid of her 'debt' to me. So, she fixed it up so that the other kid was visiting her aunt that Saturday, and she told the family who lived in the same house that she had won 500 marks on the Lotto and gave them enough to go out to a nice dinner and a movie.
"When I got there, Inga knew the deal ... at least, part of it. Her mother stayed out in the front room and Inga and I went in the bedroom and stripped. Oh, Norma, what a little body! You would have eaten her up! And that's about the first thing I did. I lapped my tongue inside that pussy and used it on her clit . . . she loved it! Said it was ten times 'sexier' than when I fingered it. I made her come for about the first time, I guess.
"I took it easy with the kid. I taught her to suck my cock and it felt so good in her little mouth that I just let the load go! And I held her head tightly . . . made her swallow every drop. She gagged a little, but she got it down. So, we played around some more and sucked each other until I had a good hard again.
"That was it, Norma! I rolled her over on her back and got between her legs! I leaned over her body and supported myself with my left hand, and I guided the head of my hard cock to that little girl's crack with my right hand! She was scared, but she was hot . . . just like you now. It hurts, but it hurts good. . . ."
"No . . . no," I protested meekly, feeling that my anal flesh was going to tear from his constant fucking. "You'll ruin me. . . ."
"Oh, shut up, godammit!" he responded, and used my buttocks for a punching bag, just like his father did! "I threw my cock into that little 13 or 14 year old girl's cunt, and I fucked her like I would a whore. The blood came out, and she was screaming! I fucked her more. And more! And more! I had a bloody cock that night! But it was good, Norma . . . good!
"When I was just about to come, I pulled out and turned her over and spread her ass. Such a tiny little asshole . . . but such a beauty! When I tried to force my wet cock in it, she screamed for her mother. So, her mother came in the room and closed the door. Yeah . . . you're right! Her mother had to hold her down on the bed . . . hold her ass open! I threw my cock in it, Norma! You would have loved it!
"My cock would hardly move at first . . . just the head of it in her anus! And the girl's mother did the rest. She pushed on my ass and I split the kid wide open! I never saw so much blood in my life, but I was so psyched, I kept fucking, fucking, fucking! I shot off in the kid and then I was exhausted! It's a tough job to fuck a virgin ass and a virgin cunt that young in the same night. But I did it, Normal "Well . . . that was all. My squadron was going to France two days later. But I tell you, Norma, that woman-her mother-she wanted me to come over again! She told me Inga was getting over it, a doctor had treated her . . . oh, what a fucking bunch of perverted cunts!"
"Please! Please, Ken!" I begged. "Yes! I know you can do anything you want with me! You could kill me! But take your cock out of my ass!"
My body was on fire, but I was hurting very much. I didn't know what else to say or do. I had let him know how much I was suffering. It was up to him to put the limit on what he was going to do. I was honestly surprised when he slapped my sore ass real hard and almost literally dragged me to his bedroom. His cock still stood at a rigid angle to his body, and I have to admit that I wanted it.
Really, I wanted to suck it! I wanted to suck the clean, young-looking cock. I wanted to taste his come! I think I knew that he knew . . . and he knew that I knew. It was a very frustrating situation. I wanted to have sex with Cissy, but he kept teasing me with demanding a promise that I get her in to Club Lesbos. I was his pawn! I was Cissy's pawn!
When he pulled his hard cock out of my ass, I suddenly became bewildered! I took off from my uncomfortable position on the stool, only to be pushed and shoved into his bedroom and thrown on the bed on my back!
"Ha! You cunt!" he growled at me as I lay back and opened my legs invitingly. "You want cock in your cunt! That's what all of you bitches want! Hell . . . even Cissy wants a good, hard cock when she can't have a sweet, nice, young girl like you to 69 with!"
For a moment, as he dangled his hard cock over me, I thought he was going to try to give me the pleasure I had longed for-a big fuck!-but no!
"Let's see how this feels?" he said, bringing over another vial of the oil of peppermint and pouring it in my cunt. "And to add to the excitement. . . ."
The sting and burn of the oil was sharper than the continuing burn of the oil absorbed in and around my anus. My clit felt like it was on fire. I had several orgasms as I squirmed around on the bed and anointed the sheets with oil drippings from my pussy. I cried, and the tears were very real, but Ken only laughed and went over to get another vial of the burning oil.
"No, Ken . . . it's enough! Enough!" I screamed, and he ignored me, of course.
My eyes followed him as he walked over to the closet and took down a locked, wooden box from a shelf. He set it on top of the dresser so I couldn't see what was in it after he opened it with a key he had hidden under something in one of the dresser drawers. I was perspiring profusely and my anxiety, curiosity and fear were making me cry more and more. I tried rubbing perspiration over the nipples of my breast, to create sexual excitement as an escape.
Knowing that my nipples were sensitive, but not so acutely as the flesh inside my pussy, I put my right index finger in my cunt and twirled it around until it was well coated. I applied it to both nipples, then rubbed around in a circle on them one at a time. The oil was stronger than I thought! The burning sensation went right through the often sucked flesh and I began to cry again. I put the tip of my finger to my mouth . . . just touched it with the tip of my tongue. It too felt as if it were on fire, and only then did I fully appreciate how strong the concentration was.
"What ... oh, God, Ken! What are you going to do to me?" I cried out when I saw him approaching me, the sadistic leer on his boyish face, and a long, penis shaped vibrator in one hand. "No, Ken. It'll ruin me! Nobody will want to eat me and. . . ."
"Ha-ha!" he howled as he plugged the strong vibrator's cord into the wall and sat on the bed beside me. "The poor little Lesbian. Her pussy will taste like peppermint and burn her girlfriends' lips and none of the girls will ever want to suck Norma's pussy again! Ha! Ha! What a way to go!"
"Go ahead!" I shouted angrily, pushing my cunt toward him and spreading my legs wider. "Cissy won't want it either. You're screwing your sister out of wanting to eat me too!"
"Oh, don't worry!" he said, almost friendly for a moment (his mood changes were often instant, short and very erratic), as he slapped my cunt and patted the mound with his hand. "A few good fragrant douches, followed by cold water douches, and most of the taste will be gone in a few hours. Maybe there'll be just a hint of the peppermint by tomorrow, but peppermint's a good flavor for Lesbians. Try it . . . you'll like it! Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!"
"What's that on the dildo?" I asked him with sudden fear, noticing that it seemed to be covered with something very coarse, like sand paper!
"Oh, that! Ha-ha!" he laughed, pushing it toward my fingers. "Feel it! It's really amazing! You see, being a connoisseur of sex, and sex gadgets, I was put in touch with a clever old man in Brooklyn who makes dildos and other such things on order. Very expensive . . . but very good! I told him I wanted something that would be almost as coarse as heavy-duty sandpaper, but wouldn't come unglued. . .
"It ... it is sandpaper!" I shrieked after running my fingers along the shaft. "It is! I can feel it!"
"Yes ... in a way it is," Ken agreed with that inimitably crude smirk. "First of all, he built up a basic, hard-rubber dildo to fit the vibrator here. Next, he put a light coat of some kind of latex mixed with coarse sand. After it was completely dry, he used very fine sandpaper to rub off the top layers of rubber over the coarse sand, cleaned it, and- voila! You'll love this, Mother Norma . . . you can't keep count of the orgasms, they come so fast. Cissy and I used it on her girlfriend-one of them-when Father was out of town last time and we had a weekend orgy up here. It jazzed her so much that regular fucking or sucking wouldn't satisfy her for a week. She became a nympho . . . screwing doorknobs and that sort of thing. ..."
Every muscle in my body tensed, but I put my buttocks back on the bed and held my cunt open. I was determined to take it and like it. I knew by then that I was masochistic to some extent, so I was going to try deliberately to enjoy it instead of fighting it.
I yelped when the head of the dildo first probed between my inner lips. Ken told me to let go of the outer ones and he immediately turned the vibrator on. Through my tears and screams, I could see the demoniacally diabolical look on Iris face. He pressed the vibrating sanded dildo hard against the sensitive inner lips. He howled with maniacal laughter! The pain was ten times worse than when he was fucking my ass, because the coarse material was scraping the oil of peppermint into my flesh, like they used to give smallpox vaccinations.
"Oh! Ow! It's ... oh, it's killing me, Ken!" I screamed. "Please stop ... I'll do anything . . . I'll suck you off, Ken. I'm very good at that. And I like to suck it and swallow too. Your father thinks I'm the best at eating cock. . . ."
"Oh, shut up!" he cursed at me, slapping me hard across the face.
I tried to force myself to enjoy it, but it wasn't easy. The searing burn continued to grow and spread. He lowered the dildo all the way into my vagina, and the pain seemed to flow outward through my body, ending in driplets of perspiration. And the sandy vibrator kept digging it into me! "No, Ken . . . not more!" I protested uselessly. Ken opened the other vial of oil of peppermint and poured it liberally from the top of my cunt. It was suddenly sexy! I realized then that the first time he poured the oil in me, he ignored the clit area. Nor had he used the dildo up there. And when the oil first hit my little hot-bud, I cried out in agonized ecstasy! The feel of the burning, stinging oil flowing over my clit on its way to my lower pussy parts turned me on. I had one orgasm, then another!
"Ken! Do it . . . put the dildo on my clit . M Oh, please, Ken! I'm coming!" I screamed as he looked at my pain wracked face and into my tear-filled eyes.
"Yes ... I know," he said, his face almost expressionless as he let the vibrator continue to gouge deep in my cunt. "Frustrating . . . isn't it?"
"Yes! Yes! I want to come more," I cried out, then began to scream as just the feel of the oil made me have another orgasm.
The pain within became overshadowed by my desperate desire to be abused at my clit. I didn't care if it made me become a raging maniac, wanting more, more, more! I had to have it. I looked at the index finger of my right hand. The nail was long and sharp. I was on the verge of gouging it into my tortured clit when Ken suddenly pushed my arm away and withdrew the dildo part way and at an angle. The coarse surface dug into my clit. He moved it over the little bud and used more pressure the front of the dildo almost stretching my vagina out of shape!
I screamed! I cried! I begged him to stop! I begged him never to stop! I squirmed around on the bed, my body helpless but to move, undulate and writhe to appreciate the absolute zenith of sexual sensation. And he was right about the orgasms. They came closer and closer together.
I was soaked in perspiration, arms flailing and then my fists beating on the bed. The tears flowed from my eyes like water from the mouth of a river.
The orgasms! At first, I thought they had stopped. But no! They were coming so close together that my sexually tortured, masochistically psyched body could not define the point at which one climax ended and the next one began! I was having one, endless climax!
I continued to scream, yell, curse, and orgasm. I began to think I was rising up in the air and floating away. I was surrounded by two dozen men with hard cocks, all trying to put theirs someplace in me -my ears, my nostrils, my pussy, my mouth (two of them there), my armpits, my navel-all fucking me in a ceaseless, masterful, guided, synchronous stroke!
I had passed out!
Several minutes later, a new dream emerged. I was in a big bedroom, a huge bedroom. I was sprawled open-thighed on a perfectly round bed that was over twelve feet in diameter. I was naked. The bed slowly revolved. The room was a maze of mirrors! The ceiling, walls and floor were all one mirror. But other large mirrors were set at various angles, and as I revolved around on the bed, I would see reflections of myself multiplied to infinity, each reflection smaller than the last.
I was extremely passionate. I was itching terribly between my thighs and constantly rubbing my clit. But I could not even approach an orgasm. I cried out in pure agony, and the reflections of myself in the mirrors kept enlarging, zeroing in finally on my tit! All of the reflections were giant reproductions of my middle finger working on my clit in a continuous rhythm, a pattern that never changed!
"I want a man!" I cried out tortuously, and my voice echoed louder and louder, "Man . . . Man . . . MAN . . . MAN!
And then, a man in a Tuxedo-like suit stepped from behind the mirrors. He did a tap dance on the mirrored floor and stared at me with the debauching corruptness of the master-of-ceremonies in "Cabaret". His eyes never left the area between my upper thighs where I was still furiously masturbating my clit. He turned cartwheels, and his feet tapped him into a hundred different postures, but his eyes never left my cunt.
"I want to be fucked!" I screamed, and the echo was there again, "Fucked . . . Fucked . . . FUCKED . . . FUCKED!
"I want your cock!-Cock . . . Cock . . . COCK . . . COCK!"
Magically, his jacket flew up into the air and disappeared when he raised his hands. He jumped in the air, and before his feet hit the mirrored floor again, his trousers did a disappearing act in much the same way. His jock shorts were bulging, as if he had a ten pound tumor at his groin. He did two or three fast turns and steps, and his underclothes, shirt and tie dissolved away.
"No! I can't take a cock that big!" I screamed, seeing him use both hands to hold onto a penis as big as a baseball bat, and then hearing the echo, "Big ... Big ... BIG .. . BIG!"
The slim yet attractive man ignored me, of course. He came up on the bed and put the tremendously huge head of his cock at the entrance to my pussy. He pushed. I screamed. He pushed. I screamed again. And then by some miracle, the monstrously huge cock went all the way in and he began fucking me with it. I was forced to quit fingering myself because he was occupying every cubic centimeter of space in my pussy, and his body was leaning heavily on mine, his eyes glaring at mine. His face was almost red and he was perspiring and angry, a symbol of the Devil!
"Goddammit, I'll make you come!" he said to me, fucking me faster and deeper. "And I'll give you the next douche too, whether you're conked out or not. But, damn, Norma! Wake up! Don't stay out on me. I can't keep carrying you back and forth to the bathroom and fucking you to....."
I opened my eyes and looked up into the perspiring, flushed face of my stepson, Ken. I was aware that I was moving my hips, and looked down to see that his nice cock was firmly implanted between my legs and fucking me. It took only seconds for my mind to adjust to reality. I had passed out on him when he was using the coarse vibrator and the oil of peppermint. He must have taken me to the bathroom and given me one or two of the douches he mentioned, and then brought me back to the bed.
"I'm awake now, Ken," I told him softly, my eyes meeting his. "I ... I can't come. Ken . . . but I'm awake....."
"Oh, yes, you can!" He interrupted confidently. "It's not easy to get a cunt to come after the 'treatment' . . . but if anybody can do it, I can. "You've never met a man like me, have you?"
His voice seemed to turn on a switch somewhere in my loins. I began to feel the itch and realize that only a minimum smarting sensation remained from the stringent oil. And what did remain, acted as an amplifier once the feeling of orgasmic capability returned.
"Ken! Ken!" I called to him, throwing my arms around his back and thrusting my cunt to him faster. "Yes, Ken! I'm going to ... I am coming! Yes, I want to have sex with you and Cissy! Yes, I'll try to arrange to have Cissy and Lisette invited to the Club Lesbos parties! Yes, I'll ask if you can come too . . . but I know the answer will be negative. And. . .
"And you'll let me fuck you . . . you'll suck my cock off and swallow it whenever I want it, Norma!" Ken yelled as we fucked to a long, strong, mutual orgasm. "I'll hold off on telling Cissy until you find out if she can go to the Les parties. That's the only way I can do it. But I get you anytime I want! If I want a quick blow-job on a Saturday or Sunday ... or anytime, you're mine ... as long as we can fix it so Father doesn't know. Agreed? Come on, cunt, answer me!"
"Yes . . . yes, Kenneth . . . Ken," I told him, puzzled as to why I used the longer name by which I usually referred to his father. "I'll suck you off anytime, anywhere. I love your cock, Ken. I want to suck it!"
"Do I remind you of Father?" he asked me a few minutes later as we lay there smoking a cigarette.
"I don't know why I called you 'Kenneth' . . . really I don't," I told him, as puzzled he was. "I . . . guess it might be because I want to suck you off so much and . . . well, you know that's what I do to him every night before supper. He can't get an erection though, and I still like to suck him. Maybe I want to suck you so much . . . and used Kenneth's name, is because you're his . . . my husband's . . . very virile and excitingly sexual son! And I want the experience of sucking his 'hard' cock off by proxy....."
"Yeah . . . that sounds logical," Ken agreed, the smile on his face friendly and warm, although he was not embracing or feeling my body at all. "And you can bet the Old Man was a great cuntsman in his day. I'm not sure about the details because I was too young, but I know that Mother nearly divorced I him a couple of times. She caught him with some singing star once, and the other one was a movie actress. I get a big kick whenever I see her on one of the old movies on TV now."
"Would you like me to fix you a drink, Ken?" I asked. "I'm going to have a double on the rocks to celebrate the new me!"
"I've got something a lot better," he said with a worldly smile. "Let's go back to the big bedroom where my clothes are."
I was quite curious as I followed him down the hall and into the big bedroom. I sat on one of the bar stools and nervously began to tap my fingernails on the lacquered mahogany. I needed a drink! I was becoming very nervous. I tried to blame it on the most unusual experience which I had just gone through, but I remembered that I always needed drinks during the day, and usually had them with no problem.
"But . . . we just had a cigarette, Ken," I told my naked stepson as he walked over and flipped open a solid gold case and lighter filled with cigarettes.
"I'm afraid I want something a little stronger. . . ."
"Have you ever smoked marijuana?" he asked, taking out one of the professionally rounded, cork-tipped cigarettes and putting it in my mouth. "They look like regular cigarettes, don't they? I bought one of those new do-it-yourself cigarette making kits, and when I need new tipped paper, I buy a refill kit and throw away the tobacco. I leave out the filters too . . . nobody wants to waste the full taste and effects of a Mary-Jane, Norma."
He put one in his mouth and then lit mine first. I had never had anything to do with drugs of any kind before, but I felt confident with Ken. I knew he wouldn't let me come home in a daze and tip off Kenneth that something was going on. I inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. The taste wasn't what I expected, but a feeling of relaxation and pleasant lassitude seemed to come over me much faster than if I had downed a straight double Scotch. I immediately put the cigarette to my lips and inhaled much more deeply. I almost felt like I was floating.
"Take it easy on that first one, Norma," Ken advised me as he smiled languorously and blew smoke up into the air. "This is pure stuff . . . about as powerful as hashish. I buy it by the box from a guy who works in the mail room at the office. But . . . how do like the way it makes you feel . . . huh?"
"Beautiful," was all I could say, inhaling a third time. "Look at all I've been missing. Does Cissy smoke it too?"
"Sometimes," Ken answered, reaching over to play gently with my naked breasts. "She likes LSD better. And the same guy in the mail room gets the purest lots anywhere. Hell, he better I I could fire his ass with a phone call or a memo. Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!"
Ken's laugh sent shivers up and down me, but his sadistic look was not there. I was just about to ask him if I could have some of the cigarettes to take to Denyse's next time I was there (I thought it might make me seem more sophisticated and give us all new kicks too), when Ken pulled the cigarette from my lips and tossed it in the sink behind the bar, reaching over to turn on the water and let it wash down!
"Damn you, Ken!" I shrieked at him, trying unsuccessfully to grab his cigarette. "I was just beginning to enjoy it!"
"Look, Norma!" Ken said very seriously as he grabbed my arm and forced me too meet his stare. "That's the first one you ever smoked! Maybe you'll get used to it . . . give the girls at Club Lesbos new kicks if I let you take some down there. Maybe some of the girls will like a little acid too. Okay . . . okay. But if you smoked that one the way you wanted to . . . you could have fucked up everything!
"Look, Norma! You've got to get out to the house and meet Father when he comes home! We all have to make Father like us ... if we want those millions. And, let's face it. With his heart condition, a little ... too much sex might make him go. Now, don't think I want to see Father die, Norma. It's just that he's 68 years old and has a bad heart. How much longer can you expect him to live . . . with a hot, young wife like you who sucks him off every night?"
"I . . . I feel an obligation to Kenneth," I told him very sincerely. "I don't want to do anything to hurt him . . . mentally or physically. I guess . . . in some strange way, I love Kenneth."
"Great! Good!" Ken said, gesturing with his arms and putting out his own cigarette when it was only about half smoked. "We all love the Old Man. But he can't live forever. Let's think of more current things, huh? Like sex! Why don't you call up your girlfriend, Jeanne, and find out when you can visit her again? Then, you'll talk to Denyse about Cissy joining in . . . and Lisette! A teenage French girl ought to turn on those Lessies like crazy, I mean. Wheel Naked little French cunt for them to suck and lick . . . wheel And give a joint to Denyse . . . to Jeanne. You can be the main attraction of Club Lesbos, if we work it right!"
I leaned over the bar and tried to think things out. I felt sure that Denyse would welcome Cissy in the group, from what she had told me. Lisette seemed a natural. I couldn't even imagine that a beautiful dyke like Denyse would want to turn away a "safe" French teenager.
Ken called his father at the office and gave him a story about being tied up at a meeting with a client. He told Kenneth he would be back in time to go home with him. He figured that I should get a train or taxi back to the mansion and be lovey and sweet to to his father when they arrived.
"But, Ken . . . how am I going to get out by myself to see Jeanne and Denyse?" I asked. "Rome wasn't built in a day and. . . ."
"Give it a week," he said, cutting me off, speaking with great excitement. "Father goes to the West Coast tomorrow for eight or nine days at least. It was a deal that came up this morning. Hell . . . he'll probably want you to drive him out to JFK tomorrow and kiss him goodbye. Tomorrow night . . . maybe you could go visit Jeanne and Denyse . . . party a little. And set things up for Cissy to join you in a sexy-sexy Lesbian orgy next week.
"You offer to be the hostess, Norma! Have the party up here! Yeah! You and Cissy can be the hostesses for a grand orgy of Club Lesbos! Call her now, Norma. See if you can't arrange to be over there tomorrow night and set things up....."
I called Jeanne and Denyse answered the phone. I was quite nervous with Ken hanging over my shoulder and trying to listen, but Denyse was apparently in a very good mood. She seemed to welcome hearing from me, and I felt I could talk to her freely.
"Oh, Denyse!" I said. "Before you call Jeanne to the phone, I'd like to ask you something. My husband's leaving town tomorrow for a week or more. Could I . . . invite myself up for a visit tomorrow night? And then . . . next week, I'd like to invite you and Jeanne and anyone else you might know ... to a party at our downtown apartment. I want to live, Denyse, and I know what I've been missing all these years."
"Wonderful!" she exclaimed with sincerity that was truly spontaneous. "I told Jeanne to get in touch with you about tomorrow night. Club Lesbos is alive and running! I'm having some girls over tomorrow night, and I want you to be here as much as Jeanne does. Can you make it about . . . nine?"
"Yes!" I replied immediately.
"After I talked to Jeanne, Ken left to go back to the office. I dressed and took a taxi all the way home. I showered and dressed up sexily for Kenneth. I wasn't concerned about that night. I could enjoy it or fake it with Kenneth. I was looking forward to the next week . . . and to the next night.
After so many years, I was living again!