Chapter 3
"Bette!" Carole gasped. "What a funny thing to ask. You know that I like men."
"I don't know much about you at all, Carole. We've socialized for what, five, six years? But I don't know anything personal about you. Besides, liking men doesn't rule out an occasional fling with another woman."
"Are you speaking from experience, Bette?"
Bette replied with a knowing little smile that made Carole's blood run hot. And her pussy get wetter. She knew suddenly and certainly that Bette did get it on with other women. And that Bette was coming on to her! The silence built. Slowly, inexorably, the air filled with the invisible, nerve-jangling electricity of sexual expectation.
Carole was tempted. God, she was tempted! A good session with Bette might be just the thing she needed to relieve her of the tension that had been building for days. Months, actually. No one had given her pussy a good licking since Ralph left. Oh, Roger, and a couple of other men made a stab at it, but their efforts turned out to be nothing more than a lick and a promise. Bette would certainly know how to eat a pussy. Whatever else she might have in mind, oral sex had to be one of the foremost things she was offering.
Carole's mind churned with desire. She couldn't bring herself to take the one tiny step that would put Bette's head between her legs, however. She knew beyond doubt that she could never lick pussy. Never. No matter what.
"What time do you close this place?" Bette asked quietly, licking her lips in a terribly sexual gesture. Just as Lela had licked hers.
"Oh, uh, about midnight, I guess."
"Can you get away for a while this afternoon? We could have a nice time together, Carole. A really nice time."
Carole fought the urge to say yes and the fear of doing so. "I, uh, I'm going to have a sandwich at my desk. I've got to interview some people. I need more help around here." She hoped her lie wasn't too obvious.
"Well, take some time to think about it." Bette went to Carole's desk and wrote her phone number on the calendar. "Here's my private number. Call me, day or night, when you make up your mind. You want what I'm offering, you know."
Carole swallowed hard, blinked her eyes several times, and licked her lips. Her throat felt as dry as a desert. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She stared helplessly at Bette.
"That's okay, dear," Bette said. "I know what it's like. I felt the same way the first time. By the way, I meant what I said about some nice male companionship. If you know any gentlemen who might be interested, will you steer them my way?"
Carole felt on safer ground now. "I know a couple. They're not the hottest things that ever hit the sack, though. I mean, they're not bad, but they don't have very good imaginations. They know only one way."
"Honey, as long their cocks work, I'm not sure it makes a whole hell of a lot of difference. A man with no imagination is better than no man at all."
"You're a very pretty woman, Bette. I can't imagine you having trouble getting dates."
"Well, believe it or not, I have trouble approaching a man about that sort of thing. Seems most of them are laying back, waiting for the woman to make the first move these days. Can't say that I blame them. A poor guy never knows when a woman is going to come on to them, then charge him with sexual harassment if he lifts an eyebrow or licks his lips. I liked it a lot better when the man made the first move, and would make it, no matter how many wedding rings the woman was wearing."
Bette's anger surprised Carole. "You know more about that than I do," she replied. "I haven't been out in the world for a long time. The men I know, speaking in the Biblical sense, are, were, friends of Ralph. They offered their services and I accepted. Ralph provided me with all.. . " She stopped and thought for a moment. "Well, actually he didn't provide me with nearly all that I needed, now that I think about it. Guess I just got into the habit of believing that he did, and didn't try to get out of the rut."
"Ralph's buddies will do just fine, honey. As long as they're willing to help out an old woman in desperate need."
"You're not old, Bette! Not by a long shot." Carole grinned. "If I let you get away with calling yourself old, where does that leave me? There can't be more than four or five years difference in our ages."
"Well, George has lots of friends, but I don't know if I could trust them to keep their mouths shut if I let them 'service' me." Bette laughed. "That's a quaint expression, isn't it?"
"I like to think of men as stallions," Carole said with a giggle. Now that the conversations had gotten away from her and Bette getting it on, she felt a lot more comfortable. "Although the ones I tried out so far have been anything but stallions. Broken down old plow horses might be closer to the truth."
"Sounds like we both have the same problem. Maybe we should go looking together. Ever gone cruising in the bars?"
"No, and I don't think I could. That scene isn't for me."
"Don't you go in for one-night stands?"
"Sure, sometimes. I just don't want to look for them that way. There's no way to tell what you might be getting into. I want to live a long, full, healthy life."
"Yeah, that always bothers me, too. I go out, but I don't do anything. Guess I'm more a talker than a doer." Bette stood, took a deep breath, and tried to make her pert little tits appear bigger. She could feel her stiff nipples poking into the thin material of her bra. All this talk had turned her on! "I'd better be going. See you later?" It was more a question than a statement, an inquiry born of deep, deep desire to take things between them much further.
"Yes, Bette, we'll see each other later." Carole did her best to keep her voice noncommittal about what it meant to see each other later. Despite her best efforts, a hint of desire, of curiosity, crept in.
Bette didn't miss the tone. She smiled seductively. "You won't be sorry, Carole. That's a promise. And I can keep it!" She hurried out before Carole could reply.
Carole wandered around her office for a few minutes, sipping coffee. Her mind whirled, busily sorted and graded information, not settling on any one thing. Then she suddenly realized that she wanted very much to cum. Hell, it was stronger than just wanting to! She had to! An orgasm lurked just beneath the surface, demanding release.
She went to her desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out a large vibrator. She would do herself quickly, then get back to work. She had so damned many things to do before day's end. Just as she straightened up, there was a loud knock at the office door.
"Come in," she called, without thinking.
Then she remembered the vibrator in her left hand. She opened the middle drawer of her desk and shoved the instrument in and closed the drawer again as the door opened. She breathed a silent sigh of relief and blushed faintly as Jordy Howard came through the door.
"Well, hello again, Jordy. What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm available to give you some lessons on firming up your body, if you're interested. I mean, I just recently got my degree in physical education. I'm considered an expert in the field of physical conditioning."
Carole had a feeling of deja vu. She'd already had this conversation with the young man. He had to be after something else. She decided to play along until he made his move. Maybe she wouldn't need the vibrator after all.
"Why, Jordy, are you saying there's something wrong with my body?"
Jordy blushed. "Oh, no, I just meant that.. .well, most of the girls these days seem to want a hard body. So, I just thought that I'd.. . . "
"I like my body the way it is, Jordy. Hard bodies belong on men. Women should be rounded and soft and pleasurable to touch. Don't you think so?"
Why in the world did I steer the conversation in this direction ? I couldn't have said anything more suggestive.
"Oh, sure! Look, I didn't mean to.. .it's just that.. .I'm sorry if I insulted you. I didn't mean to."
"I'm sure that you didn't, Jordy. No offense taken. Okay?" She tried to smile encouragingly without being seductive.
He nodded and turned toward the door. "Damned fool thing to say," he muttered to himself.
"Jordy, wait a minute," she said. "Where do you work?"
He turned back to face her. "Nowhere yet. I want to get on with one of the NFL teams, maybe the Broncos, as a strength coach. Well, as an assistant, anyway. Can't expect to start at the top."
"Would you be interested in working here for a while? Until your dream comes true? I could use someone with your knowledge."
"Yeah, I think that would be great! At least I won't have to wonder where the next meal is coming from."
He put his foot in it again, but she let it pass. He was too young and inexperienced to know better. She guessed his age at something less than 25. She opened the top drawer of her desk to get a job application. The vibrator caught her eye. She hurriedly got the proper form and closed the drawer with a bang.
"Here, fill this out and bring it in later. What's fair for pay? Ten dollars an hour?"
"Yeah, that would be fine. I'm worth at least that much."
"You've got it. Can you start tomorrow?"
"Hell, I can start right now!"
"Tomorrow morning will be fine, Jordy. Do you need an advance on your salary?"
"Uh, no, that's okay. I'll be all right until I get paid. Provided payday is once a week."
"It is if you want it." She began to imagine all sorts of possibilities for this young man. She had to jerk her mind back to the present to keep from blushing.
"I would have settled for eight," he said.
"I would have paid twelve," she laughed.
"Well, see you tomorrow then." He flashed her a big innocent grin and left.
Well, so much for my idea of taking a ride on his cock. He didn't give me a tumble. Maybe he needed a more direct hint. Maybe I let hope override my good sense. He must have loads of young women begging him to fuck them.
She couldn't wait another moment. She snatched the desk drawer open and grabbed the vibrator. She tore off her clothes and hurried to the couch. She threw herself down on her back and spread her legs. She set the tool on high and plunged it into her burning cunt.
"Ooohhh, yesss!" she moaned softly.
She threw one leg over the back of the couch and pushed the vibrator deeper. Her pussy felt like a steamy swamp. The tool slipped in easily. The deeper the tool went, the fainter the humming became. She shoved it all the way up her cunt with one hard, twisting thrust. She liked to play with herself, pretend that a really hot guy couldn't wait to ram his prick all the way up her tight sheath.
She thought about Jordy Howard. Did he have a big cock? Was the head big and round, really prominent, or just an extension of the shaft? She liked the big ones best. Not that she'd had very many cocks. Ralph's had been pretty ordinary-barely six inches long, not all that thick, with a head not much bigger than the shaft. She always dreamed about finding the other kind, the ones with the big heads.
She looked down between her tits at her crotch. Down where the vibrator nosed between the lips of her pussy. She lifted her head a little further and watched raptly as she pushed the last inch of so into her heated channel.
"Aaahhh!" she groaned, her mind going wild with erotic images.
She closed her legs. All signs of the vibrator disappeared. like a black hole in space, her passionate passage devoured the humming sound. The buzzing tool made her buns flex and her toes tingle. She could lie this way-the vibrator delightfully hard and humming away inside her-for as long as it took to cum. She could entertain herself with a favorite fantasy as the vibrator played a tantalizing tune in her tight tunnel.
To her dismay, the usual images didn't come to mind. Instead, she had a vivid image of Bette, standing by the couch, naked, smiling seductively. Damn! She had her legs together, hiding her pussy. For some odd reason, she felt that she simply had to see the woman's pussy. Was her bush as black as the hair on her head? Well, it had to be, didn't it? Only blondes were one color on top and a different color on the bottom. Was Bette's bush real thick?
She couldn't remember ever seeing a black-haired woman naked, so she had no frame of reference. She had to draw her own conclusions. Since Bette wore such a teeny bikini, her bush couldn't be thick. Except perhaps right down her slit. She had to shave it along the sides so her bikini would cover it. Yes, that's the way it had to be.
Why was she thinking about Bette, with her jaunty body and pert little tits? Why wasn't she thinking about Jordy, with his strong, masculine body and lovely hard cock?
Her hands went to her crotch. She began to caress her pussy with one hand. The lips were thick, swollen with blood and passion. She slipped a finger into her slit and touched her clit. She squeezed the fleshy cunt lips together, trapping her finger inside. The vibrator hummed away in her hot, juicy hole, bringing her closer and closer to the magic moment. The finger on her clit began to move, adding its sensations to those from the vibrator. She sighed deeply and lay back on the couch, willing herself to relax and let the orgasm come when and how it would.
Her other hand settled over her hole, palm down. She began to rub it in tiny, tight circles over the base of the vibrator. "Nice wet pussy," she murmured. She smiled and licked her lips. She wished she had something in her mouth right then. Something like a nice fat cock, with a shiny red head she could suck on. Her mouth began to water.
She thought about seducing Jordy. Would she really have to work very hard at it? Men and women his age seemed to have totally different ideas about sex than her generation. Her generation had fucked just as much, but tried to keep it a deep, dark secret. Everyone liked to think so, anyway.
Actually, everybody in school had known which girls put out and which ones didn't. And a lot of those who wouldn't fuck would either give blow jobs or hand jobs. By contrast, today's generation made no secret of their sex lives. Hell, they would even answer all sorts of stupid questions put to them by anyone who claimed to be conducting a poll or hosting some ridiculous talk show.
'Poll' quickly became 'pole' in her feverish mind. She called up an image of Jordy. Of his strong, naked body. Un-like Bette's body, she could append all the parts to his body. His hard prick stood straight out from his loins like a horizontal flagpole.
She didn't get any further. The combination of her finger strumming her clit and the vibrator humming inside her cunt made her pop hard. Her ass came off the couch and began to twist around and around. She began to hump her ass up and down as it went around and around. She held the vibrator inside her cunt with her left hand. The middle finger of her right hand continued to diddle her clit, going faster and faster over the hard nubbin of sensitive nerve endings. She opened her mouth to scream. She caught herself just in time. She snapped her mouth shut and bit her lower lip and moaned deeply as she came.
Her climax ended all too quickly, leaving her only partially satisfied. Suddenly, the vibrator felt like an intrusion in her cunt instead of a pleasant experience.
She knew immediately what was wrong. She wanted a beautiful, hard, live cock filling her cunt. She came on the vibrator only because of her programming. Stick a vibrator up her cunt and turn it on, and she would cum every time. This time, however, it wasn't anywhere close to being as good as it had been in the past.
Nothing was going to be right until she had Jordy between her legs, pounding away at her pussy with his nice cock. And she knew it was going to be nice. It had to be. Such a hunk of maleness simply couldn't have a poor cock hung on it.
She removed the vibrator, turned it off, and got up. She had lots of work to do, so she might as well get to it. She wasn't going to satisfy her needs, her craving, this way. She took the vibrator with her into the small bathroom off her office so she could clean it after she washed her pussy. Offensive body odors turned her off completely, so she took care to never commit that sin.