Chapter 6
Carol stared at the ooze dripping from between the lover-colored lips of Ann's vagina, noting that the oils were seeping into Ann's thick, gray pelvic bush. The more Carol talked, the wetter Ann got, and soon the ooze was dripping down Ann's meaty thighs, falling to the floor. The aroma was almost overpowering.
"What else did you do after your stepfather fucked you?" Ann insisted on knowing, tugging Carol's lovely face the littlest bit closer so that the younger woman's mouth just barely missed touching the pouting swells of her cuntlips.
"Then he made me suck his cock until he came in my mouth," the kneeling younger woman replied.
"What else happened?" Ann insisted on knowing. "You already told me once before that your stepfather forced you to fellate him. What makes it so significant now whereas you glossed over it quickly the last time, bitch?"
"I came with his cock in my throat," Carol readily admitted.
"You're a lying dog," the older woman squealed at her in that irritating highpitched voice of hers. "You never mentioned that the first time you told me about it."
"I just didn't want to admit it, even to myself," Carol insisted. "The idea that a man that horribly gross was capable of making me feel things I was supposed to feel only with people I would learn to love made me sick. I just wanted to forget it."
"Oh you are such a rotten liar," Ann snapped. "What I ought to do is make you suck Albert's penis until he shoots down your throat. Then I'd be able to see if you really did come that first time."
"It wouldn't do any good," Carol cried. "Albert's penis isn't long enough or thick enough. I wouldn't feel anything in the part of my throat that counts."
"Hmph! All the more reason to shoot my son's sperm into your mouth. That way you'd get all the unpleasantness of sucking a penis without any of the enjoyment."
"Oh no! No! You wouldn't..." Carol begged.
The older woman up her hand behind Carol's head, and tugged so that the younger woman had her face jammed into her gray, furry muff as she humped her fulcrum forward a little.
"This time I'll let you get away with not telling me everything," Ann replied. "But if you ever hold anything back, I'll give you Albert's puny cock for sure."
"Mmmphhh!" was all Carol was able to mumble.
"Eat my cunt, Carol. Eat my cunt and pretend it's your mother's. Obviously, the only reason why you enjoy eating the cunt of an older woman is the idea that you're lapping your mother's cunt-the same mother who lapped your cunt the day your stepfather fired his wad down your throat and made you choke with orgasm. Eat me, bitch!"
Without thinking, Carol lanced her tongue out and felt it wiggle through the gray hair, reaching the slimy slit, delving into the tender center of the older woman's cunt. She was well aware of the way her own body was instantly responding to what she was doing, but she was also aware that her inner response was not nearly as strong as it used to be. She was thinking that perhaps the psychoanalyst was right, and maybe she wasn't cut out to be a lesbian. Maybe she had turned to lesbianism as a defense, terrified she might be forced to do something with another man she hated, and thus like what he was doing while hating the man, himself.
Carol shuddered, feeling Ann launch her cunt back and forth, and since there was really almost no room for much thrusting, each time the older woman pressed her crotch forward, her flabby vaginal lips would slap Carol not only on the mouth, but all over her nose and chin as well, greasing up all of Carol's face. The abrasiveness of her pubic hairs scratched Carol's cheeks, hurting them.
But the younger woman refused to stop what she was doing. Her tongue consistently lanced out and buried itself in the simmering depths of the older woman's vagina. Her hands slid upward and moved back to get a firm grip on Ann's wobbly, flabby asscheeks.
Carol was able to feel how wet Ann was, and how the flow was even seeping into her asscrack and spreading to those cheeks she was firmly gripping. It meant that Ann was becoming more and more aroused by what she was doing, and this pleased her, because deep down Carol had this overpowering urge to please and satisfy.
She started massaging Ann's buttocks, but when she began working her forefinger into the other woman's rectum, the older woman pulled her collar a little tighter.
"Don't do that," she screamed. "I have hemorrhoids. I have medicine in there, and unless you want to lick Preparation H off your fingers, keep them out."
Carol pulled her fingers back and tried catching her breath for a moment. She felt so terribly worked up, and so crowded as Ann's body pushed her back against the kitchen sink again, giving her almost no room to breathe.
Ann gasped, coming spasmodically, and Carol began moaning as she felt Ann's cunt twitching and jerking and sputtering hot, colorless oil. She sucked out more and more of the blasting viscous fluid, feeling her own vagina getting sodden with need. As a result, she clamped her thighs together very tightly.
"You see, you cunt-loving bitch!" Ann gasped, moaning as she came down from the peak of her orgasm. "You see, you still love pussy. You'll always love pussy, and no dumb shrink will be able to tell you otherwise. Do you know why I sent you to the analyst? I thought you were getting bored with me, and I wanted to stimulate your interest. I thought the analyst would do that instead of trying to turn you away from me. But I just proved that in spite of what the analyst says, you still love sucking a good cunt."
Carol was all set to burst out crying. The tears filled her eyes as never before, because deep down, what the analyst had told her remained constantly fixed, and she was beginning to question her lesbianism. Usually, when sucking Ann's cunt, she, herself, would have an orgasm simply from the power of Ann's climax. Now, all she felt was anxiety. Damn! She wanted to feel good! She wanted to come!
She began sobbing, and as she cried, she heard the way Ann was laughing at her. The older woman stepped back a little, then turned around. She held tightly to her end of the belt and began walking toward the bedroom.
"Come along, you beautiful slave-bitch," she said to the helpless Carol as her large buttocks wobbled from side to side. "You come too, Albert. I want you to watch all this."
Carol let herself be led, walking on her knees and the palms of her hands as if she were some kind of dog. Once again she was the obedient, trained pup her roommate wanted her to be.
But the plain fact was, she wasn't enjoying this kind of domination as she once had. There was no doubt that she wanted to be ruled, controlled, but not by a woman. Even so, the alternative, a man, was too abhorrent for her to consider.
Once in the bedroom, Ann turned to Carol and said, "All right, on your feet."
Carol rose and faced the older woman, who pointed to the straight-backed chair in the bedroom. Carol sat, and then Ann gripped her ankles and tugged her lower half forward until her buttocks were on the very edge of the chair, not doing Carol's spine much good. She had Carol bend her legs so that her ankles were wound around the legs of the chair, and thus her vagina was protruding outward.
"Now masturbate!" Ann ordered, "both you and Albert. Look at each other's genitals and masturbate!"
She had the skinny boy stand directly in front of Carol, his thin wang sticking out as he pulled on it, staring straight down into the pink of Carol's rich pussy. He licked his lips, because the boy, for all his perversity, was definitely heterosexual.
"You pussy isn't red enough," Ann insisted, and walking over to a bureau, opened the top drawer and pulled out an oldfashioned riding crop. Walking over to Carol, she proceeded to lash Carol's cunt with it until the mucous membranes turned a brilliant red. "Now, rub that little clitoral button," she insisted.
The chair in which Carol was seated had a circular section of wood in the middle of the seat that was removable. Ann knelt, found the little pieces of wood that held the circular part of the seat in place, twisted them, and the circular section of the seat dropped out, causing Carol's buttocks to fall partway through the seat, itself. Her ass and part of her lower cunt came through the chair.
"Now both of you masturbate!" Ann screamed, and proceeded to use the riding crop against the bare bottom protruding through the seat. She whipped Carol's buttocks wickedly, and the harder she hit, the faster Carol rubbed her clitoris, and the faster the skinny little boy in front of her jerked on his cock.
Albert was becoming more and more excited. He was at an age when sex was really fascinating to him, and he realized what an arousing woman Carol was. Whereas his mother was a flabby pig, whose body made him sick, Carol had the kind of body he was dying to fuck. The boy, for all he was witnessing, and for all of his masturbating, was still a virgin. No one in school would let him touch them. But he was hoping his mother would one day let him fuck Carol.
Looking at Albert put a damper on the whole thing for Carol. She usually loved masturbating when Ann beat her, but the sight of the boy turned her stomach, and she wanted to stop. She rubbed insanely, hoping to come quickly and end it, but she was unable to come, and Ann would know if she was faking.
Her hands, especially her wrists, became tired, after a while. She was unable to continue and her arms fell to her sides. That was when Ann really went to work on her with the riding crop, beating her buttocks again and again. The stinging pain made her jump each time the riding crop landed, and it apparently stimulated Albert, because he jerked a little faster, and then suddenly he was coming, shooting his white cream all over Carol's front.