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BEE-0842

Twice As Nice Nymph

by Kevin Harding

Chapter 1

I eat his cock. I take the big head into my mouth and lick it. I kneel between his legs with my breasts crushed against his thighs and taste the golden sweetness of his prick. I hold his balls in my hands. I like the heavy weight of them. His penis is rigid. Its thickness fills my mouth. I feel warm all over as I suck it. I move my hands higher. The hair on his belly is thick like a forest and I lose my fingers in it as I curl the wiry hairs around them. I keep eating him. I rub his hard muscular stomach. I stroke the smooth skin of his inner thighs.

I take his penis out of my mouth for a moment and look at it. It is beautiful. The skin is ‘very smooth and wet. Near the base it is covered with tiny black hairs. I trace my fingers along the bulging purplish vein that runs up the underside of it. I grip his cock tighter and start to stroke it, sliding the taut outer skin in my fingers. This brings a few clear drops of scum out of the cockhead. I press my tongue and taste it, swallow it. I feel warmth flow through my body. It is a new experience for me, being with a stranger like this. I haven’t been with any man but Graham since I’ve been married.

I press forward to take Eric’s whole prick into my mouth again. I slide my lips down over the shaft. I love the way it fills my mouth. I love the feeling of his body straining beneath me. His hands cup my breasts now as I eat him. His fingertips press in against my taut nipples. I suck him harder, deeper. My pussy aches. I can feel the wetness gathering and trickling down my thighs as I kneel in front of him.

Suddenly I feel his whole body begin to shudder and I realize he is about to ‘cum in my mouth. I would like that. But that would be the end of it. My pussy is hungry for him. I can’t let it end now. Not when I’ve never even had his prick inside me.

I slip him out of my mouth again and press his hard cock against my cheek. I can feel him throbbing in my hand as he tries to hold back his cum. I look up at his face. His eyes are shut, his teeth gritted. A few drops ooze from the swollen cockhead but he manages to control himself. I feel his cock soften slightly in my hand. I kiss it. I lick away the drops that have escaped.

I let go of him, stand up and walk across the room to get a cigarette. For a moment I feel light-headed. I can feel his eyes following me. I take the cigarette off the dresser and light one. I see my nakedness in the mirror. My breasts are large and firm. My stomach is flat. My skin looks very smooth, pink almost with my excitement. A lock of hair hangs over my forehead. I brush it back.

I come back to the bed and stand in front of him. I puff the cigarette deeply, then hand it to him. He smokes it. His eyes are shut now. His body glistens with sweat from our lovemaking.

He opens his eyes again and hands the cigarette back to me. His eyes are very light blue. Clear. We don’t say anything to each other but he sits up and puts his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him. He nuzzles his face in against my belly. I stand there naked, smoking, thrilled by his touch. I suck the smoke deep into my lungs. His hands slip down over my buttocks, cup them. I feel his lips brush the hair around my pussy.

“Shall I eat you now?” he asks.

“Yes.” I say. I feel the excitement surge through my body.
I lie back on the bed. I feel him press nibbling kisses to my knees, then up along the smoothness of my thighs. He is kneeling on the floor now between my legs. My pussy is wet from the nearness of his mouth.

I feel his lips touch me. I feel his tongue dart in. I writhe under his touch, press my cunt against his mouth. I cum with a sudden shudder. I don’t stop. I just keep rising to another, orgasm. Clutching the back of his neck, I pull him even tighter against me. His touch is electric. His tongue stabs my pussy and makes me cum.

I cum again and feel him licking me deep. My body dances under the caress of his mouth. I love him, eating me like this and biting me gently, chewing me. I feel as if I can’t get enough of him.

He pauses for a moment and sits back on his legs. I prop myself up on my elbows and glance down over my slippery stomach at his face. I smile. He smiles back and presses a kiss against. my thigh.

“Why don’t you come up here on the bed with me for awhile?” I say.
“All right …” Eric says. He gets up slowly off the floor. His body looks immense, towering over me. He is handsome with rather wavy blond hair. His shoulders are broad. He has almost no hips. His penis juts out long and thick. I move back farther on the bed to make room for him.

We lie on our sides facing each other. Our tongues meet and intertwine. I can taste my own juice mingled with his saliva. My nipples tighten as he fondles my breasts. I feel the pressure build quickly. He strokes a nipple. In a moment I am on fire again. I cum from just the sensation of him rubbing my breasts. I think about the first time …

I am eighteen. I am at the Fair, where I’ve gone with some other girls. We’ve ridden the octopus, the electric cars, played a few of the games along the midway. I am carrying a big doll that some boy won and gave to me. I watch the Ferris wheel go around and around.

I stand in front of the side show tent, listening to the barker trying to coax in the crowd. I am separated now from the rest of the girls but I don’t mind that since I’m in a large group of people.

I notice him standing in the crowd only about ten feet away. A boy from my school. He is alone, too. He is a year or so younger than I am — a dark-haired boy with nice skin and teeth. His name is Keith. I don’t really know him very well, I’ve only been with him in a few classes at school. I glance his way for the third or fourth time and our eyes meet. I turn away quickly. A minute later I look back. He has drawn closer but is not looking towards me.

The barker finishes his speech. Some in the crowd buy tickets and follow him into the tent. Most just wander away. I walk along next to Keith. I stop to buckle my shoe and he holds the doll for me.

A voice on the loudspeaker announces the watermelon hunt. There are a dozen watermelons hidden within a mile of the fairgrounds, the voice says. There is no prize for finding a melon except getting to eat it but the hunt is always a big event at the Fair. I’ve gone hunting for watermelons the last two years with my girl friends. And before that with my parents. But I’ve never been able to find one.

“Shall we look for a melon together?” Keith asks. I nod. “Yes …” I say.

We walk faster toward the edge of the fairgrounds. I feel that with Keith I will find a melon. We climb a fence and walk through a field of purple flowered clover. The sun is hot and I can feel the sweat dripping down my body. We scare up a pheasant and it scurries away. We walk through a field of wheat and I can feel the wheat stalks rubbing against my legs. Some of them reach my thighs beneath my skirt, sending a strange, warm feeling all through me. There are crows swooping and cawing over the field. I am thirsty.

We don’t talk much. We pass beyond the wheat field into a maple woods. It is cooler there. Keith is intent on finding a melon. He searches every likely place. Hollow tree trunks. Behind big boulders. In clumps of bushes. As we come out of the woods at the far edge, we suddenly see an eagle. Its wings stretch to fill the sky as it swoops near us. Then it climbs, grows smaller, disappears.

Keith is excited by the sighting of the eagle. He has been very quiet up to now but after we see the eagle he begins to talk in long, disconnected, almost endless sentences. He says that he wishes he could fly, that he could be an eagle, that if he were he would fly over the fields over the woods across the continent. Over mountains and the ocean. He would fly high above the clouds, swoop down low into the valleys. He would fly to the sun.

We come to a farm. It looks abandoned. The walls of the farmhouse are half-collapsed. The fields around it are unplanted and hall of weeds and the stubble of other years. The barn though seems to be in good condition. The red paint is mostly gone from it but the walls are straight and look strong.

“I know this farm,” Keith says. “I used to know the boy who lived here but they moved. It was a fine farm before that. The barn would be a good place to hide a melon. Let’s look there.”

“Okay … we can rest a minute too. I’m hot. My legs are tired.”

“It’ll be cooler in the barn out of the sun. We can get a drink at the well.”

We come to a fence. Keith holds apart the barbed strands so that I can step through. I gather up my skirt so as not to catch it. Keith vaults over the, fence after me. He pumps up the water at the well. It is deliciously cold and I drink until I am full.

We go into the barn. It smells of hay. At first it makes me sneeze. It is surprisingly cool inside. We look for a watermelon. The hay is piled up high on all sides. Keith says that it looks like old hay that has probably been here several summers. We climb a flimsy ladder into the loft and walk across the hay toward the small window at the end of the barn. The hay is springy but we sink halfway to our knees with each step.

We stand close to each other next to the window and look out. I can see the fields and woods we have crossed; beyond them are the fairgrounds with the Ferris wheel riding high over the tents. Keith suddenly says he thinks he sees the eagle again. He points and I see nothing but the drifting clouds and the blue of the sky. He says then that the eagle must be gone but he keeps looking out the window for it.

We sit down in the hay near the window. We lie back. It is warmer up here than it was below but I am tired and the hay is soft and I don’t mind the heat. Keith puts his hands behind his head and draws one knee up. I look over at him and see that his eyes are shut. I wonder if he is thinking about the eagle. I close my eyes too. I feel myself dozing …

I wake first. There is a smile across Keith’s face as I nudge him. He opens his eyes. I notice how brown they are. They flutter shut again. I stare at him. Impulsively I lean over and kiss him.

I kiss him again, then lay my head against his chest. I hear the steady thudding of his heart. I can hear and feel him breathing in and out. He places his hand lightly on one of my breasts, doesn’t move it, just rests it there. My nipples tingle. I am overwhelmed by the nearness of him, his touch. No boy has ever done more than kiss me before. I press my cheek in tighter against his chest.

“It’s hot up here, isn’t it?” I say.

“Yes … but better than being in the sun.”

“So stuffy though … I’m sweating.”

“We could take off some of our clothes … we’d be cooler then.”

“I don’t know … I’ve never done that.”

“I don’t mean everything.”

“My dress …?”

“Yes. That’s all.”‘

“I can’t. I don’t have on a slip beneath.”

“But you have other things.”

“Yes … not much though. I really don’t think I should.”

“It’d be just your dress. I could break out the window then and the breeze would blow on us. Shall we …?”

“All right … only for a minute. Just my dress. Why don’t you do the window first … break it.”

He slips off his shoe, stands up and breaks the window with it. He knocks away the pieces of jagged glass that remain. He stands there a minute as if looking again for the eagle. I can feel the air blow cool against my face.

“The breeze feels good,” I say.

“Yes …” He sits down again next to me and peels off his shirt. His bare chest is very tan. He doesn’t say anything more about my dress.

I sit-up and pull the dress up over my hips, then my head. I lie back in the hay again, still holding the dress in my hand. I feel very naked in just my flimsy white bra and panties. The hay itches my thighs. Keith gazes down at me. I start to cover myself with my hands but stop and let my arms lie at my sides. “What about you now?” I ask. “You’ve only taken off your shirt. I don’t want to be the only one like this.”

He doesn’t answer but quickly pulls off his other shoe, then his pants. His shorts hug his body and I can see the shape of his penis. It looks thick and mysterious.

We lie there a few minutes not moving, not speaking, just letting the breeze blow against our skin. Keith keeps glancing down over my stomach at my panties. I know that he can see the puff of dark hair beneath them. Our legs brush. I see the bulge beneath his shorts suddenly rise, see the shape of the tip of his penis stretch out against them.

He looks huge to me. Immense. The sight of him like this, the touch of his skin on mine intoxicates me. I press my leg harder against his. He rolls over on his side and I feel the hardness of his penis pushing against my thigh just a few inches below the edge of my panties. I push back against him.

He cups my breast through the thin cotton of my bra. I help him when he reaches behind my back to undo the snap. I wriggle the loosened bra down over my shoulders. I am naked now except for my panties. I close my eyes and wait for the touch of his hand. My nipples ache. And then I feel his fingertips … cool … gentle … easy against my breasts.

He caresses me there for a minute, then his hand moves to my thigh, slowly toward my pussy. I am quivering all over from just the thought of what is going to happen. His fingers reach my panties, move under the elastic hem. In a moment they are pressing cool against the smooth moist skin of my vagina. They move lower, find my opening, move deeper in. I am on fire now. I cannot think. I feel myself explode and I lie there for a minute enjoying the intense warm feeling in my belly.

When I open my eyes at last, I am startled to see Keith’s penis poking out of his shorts. I stare at it. I am drawn to it. I reach out hesitantly to touch it. It is surprisingly hard. It feels enormous in my hand. I feel its warmth.

We keep caressing each other. The tip of Keith’s penis presses against my stomach as I hold it in my hand. I slide up a little in the hay so that it rubs against my panties. The lips of my pussy grow wetter. I wish I didn’t have the panties on. I want to feel him closer to me. I want to feel his bare skin rubbing against mine. I want to feel his penis inside me.

We kiss. He rubs my breasts. I keep rubbing myself against him, waiting for him to take off my panties. But he just keeps stroking me. He seems hesitant about doing anything more. But I don’t want it to stop at this. I want it all to happen now. I need to have it happen. I rub his penis and think about how good it would feel to have it push inside me. I strain forward harder against him.

“Shall we take off our other things now?” I ask. ” … my panties?”

“… you want to?”

“Yes. Should I? I’m going to.” I lift up slightly so that I can slide my panties down over my hips.

When they are halfway down my thighs, I grasp his penis again and hold the tip of it against my pussy. It feels wonderful to have him touching me there like this but I want to have him inside me now. I pull off my panties the rest of the way and roll over on my back. He moves over me. I spread my thighs to take him.

He pushes slowly in. It feels enormous. Everything is spinning. I feel something in me stretching … breaking. It hurts. It feels deliciously good. I buck up hard against him. My skin tears, breaks. He slides all the way in.

I never imagined it could feel anything like this. He begins to move in and out of me. I thrust myself up against him. I can’t believe that I am actually fucking.

We keep pushing ourselves against each other. I keep climbing. I sense that it is almost over. I feel myself about to burst again. I know that this time it will be a feeling even more intense than before. I hear Keith groan. His body shudders. I am shaking all over. I feel a warm, sweet flood inside me. I keep climbing … climbing. The feeling goes on and on …

Chapter 2

Eric fucks me. I love the feeling of his big prick rubbing on the walls of my cunt. My thoughts of the barn and Keith fade. I lock my legs around Eric’s back and pull myself up against him. We fuck beautifully together as if we’ve been doing it with each other for years. He brings me to a climax again and again with hard rapid strokes that almost make him cum too. Each time, he stops for a moment, holds back, then starts in again.

We fuck. I thrill to the feeling of his strange new prick inside me. It’s been a dozen years since that day in the barn and since then, I haven’t experienced anything so great. I feel the wet smooth skin of my cunt clinging to the hardness of Eric’s cock. I fuck. I feel myself being fucked. I ache with the good feeling of it. My cunt stretches, distends, clings. I feel the tension build and I know that it is almost over.

I don’t want it to end. I want it to last and last. I only want to feel. The moment must go on and on. There can’t be anything else. Only this. Please don’t let it end. I can’t stand to have it end. Oh yes, fill me with your prick. Fuck me. Keep fucking me. Cum in me … please cum in me. Fuck me. Oh, I feel it shooting into me; so good. Fill me with hot cum.

I go back home to Graham. I take a taxi. The driver talks constantly but I don’t hear anything he says. I think I am still with Eric. His warmth keeps flowing sweetly through me.

The cab turns the corner. I am only two blocks from the house. The sweetness, the warmth disappears. Everything is cold. I wonder if Graham will be able to see it in my eyes that I have been with another man. I shift my position in the seat so that I can see my face in the rear view mirror. I look the same.

“We’re here ma’am … this is it, isn’t it … 6330?”

I dig in my purse for my wallet, pay the driver. I get out and walk stiffly up the flagstone walk to the door. I hear the cab pull away.

I let myself in. Graham isn’t home. I don’t call out his name but I can sense it right away. I feel my muscles relax, the tension go out of me. The house is quiet. I sink down on the big sofa in front of the fireplace.

Three hours later and Graham still isn’t here. It isn’t unusual for him to be late so I don’t think much about it. I’ve taken a bath and put on a housecoat. I’ve had a small supper and three drinks. I am sitting on our sun porch now because I like the feeling of the breeze blowing my hair. I’ve pulled the housecoat halfway up my thighs.

The drinks relax me at first, then begin to depress me. I start to feel guilty for having been with Eric. I try to chase away the depression with another drink but it doesn’t help. It just seems to make it worse. I tell myself it is silly to feel this way. I have no marriage. Just a house and some furniture that Graham and I sit in and walk about. We say hello. We watch television together. We eat silent meals. Once a week or so he screws me. Usually in the middle of the night.

He begins it by rubbing my breasts until I am awake. Then he feels my cunt. I pull off my pajama bottoms and help. him stick in his prick. It usually lasts three or four minutes. He always cums with a loud grunt, but that is the only sound he makes. Sometimes I cum too. Usually I don’t. This used to make a difference to me but it doesn’t anymore. When I do cum, the feeling is so mild that I barely notice it. Afterwards we sometimes talk for a few minutes, then he gets into his oven bed and quickly falls asleep. I am always restless then. Sometimes I get up and sit by the window and stare out at the dark night.

I didn’t plan it to happen like it did with Eric. I just went downtown to have lunch and go shopping. We live on the outskirts of New Orleans in an eighty-five-thousand-dollar house. It has a big mortgage, but Graham has an excellent job and doesn’t have any trouble with the payments. I’d planned to buy a dress for Easter in one of the Canal Street stores but never got any farther than the Rose Room, where I always stop for lunch when I’m downtown.

I notice a tall blond man eating at a table near the one I sit down at when I come in. I don’t pay any attention at first when he keeps glancing my way. This often happens to me when I eat out or stop for a drink and ordinarily I just turn away. I’ve never given any real thought to the idea of letting a man pick me up. But now I find myself glancing back.

When our eyes finally meet I know immediately that it is going to happen. We smile at each other, laugh. His teeth show white. He comes over and sits at my table. He says his name is Eric. We have a drink while I finish my lunch.

The waitress clears the table. We talk about this and that while we sip our drinks. I don’t tell him about my plans to go shopping. It stirs me to be sitting with a strange man like this, knowing what is going to happen. I like the way he holds his glass, the way he sits so relaxed in his chair. His hand looks strong.

We go for a drive in his car, then to his apartment. He makes me a drink which goes down smoothly. In minutes we are undressing each other. I taste the strange taste of his tongue. I hunger for the touch of his hand on my pussy.

I stare down at his prick. I stroke the magnificent white smoothness of it. I kiss his stomach, his thighs, press my lips to his cock. I feel his fingertips caress my cunt lightly. I kiss the head of his big prick, take it slowly into my mouth … .

The guilt settles in deeper. I wait for the sound of Graham’s car, for his footsteps at the door. My encounter with Eric seems distant now, as if it happened a long time ago, almost as if it had never happened at all. The drinks blur everything. I can’t imagine how I ever let it happen with Eric. Just popping into bed with him like that. But it was good with him … so good. I sip my drink. The. carpet feels thick under my feet.

I cross my legs and the skirt of my housecoat slips open, baring my thigh. My skin there looks smooth. I imagine a man’s hand stroking it lightly Eric’s hand. The thought teases me; rouses me. But I can’t let it happen again … just can’t. I try to think of Graham. I remember a few times with him when it was all fun and exciting. I dwell on them, concentrate on them. I try to drive all thoughts of Eric Away.

I will make it something new with Graham. Something different. I change into a black lace nightgown, brush my hair into flowing curls. I drink my martini.

I smoke cigarettes and wait.

Graham’s car pulls into the driveway at last. The garage door opens, shuts. I hear Graham’s footsteps. His key turns in the door.

He comes into the room, stands in front of me. He says he had a meeting that lasted late. He laughs. “Say, looks like you’re ready for a party or something … nightgown … martinis. What goes?”

I smile. I cross my legs and kick at his knee playfully. “Nothing … just waiting for you … you know.”

“… that?”

“Mmm hmm.” I uncross my legs and lie back on the couch provocatively.

“Isn’t it kind of late? I mean it must be going on midnight.” He glances at his watch. “Eleven twenty;” he says. “I have to be up at seven you know.”

“I know. Come sit next to me for awhile anyway. Have a drink.”

“Hey, I don’t get it. You’re carrying on like some sex-starved kitten.”

“I am.”

” … huh?”

“Come over and unstarve me. Rub me a little at least.”

He laughs patronizingly, but I keep trying. “Come on … only for a minute,” I say. “I promise to make you glad you did.”

He fucks me but it is nothing. He is made of wood. I have to move his hand to my cunt. I have to pump his prick for almost a minute to get it hard. He stuffs it into me as if he is trying on a new shoe. And once he starts his thrusts he seems anxious only to get it over with. I feel the excitement drain out of me as his prick slides back and forth in my cunt. His cock has no warmth. It is like a banana, a sausage fresh out of the refrigerator. After thirty seconds of it I can’t wait to have it over with either.

I wait for his grunt. I hear it. I feel his cum ooze into me. I don’t have an orgasm. I was closer to cuming twenty minutes before while I was just sitting there waiting for him.

He pulls his prick out of me, gets up, takes a swallow of my drink. “That was good,” he says. I’m not sure whether he means me or the drink. He yawns. “Well I guess I’ll be off to bed.” He looks at his watch. “Eleven twenty-eight;’ he says.” Not bad. I can still get in my seven hours.”

I sit alone in the living room trying to get down the rest of my drink. I am suddenly sick to my stomach, feel that I’m going to vomit. I’m not sure whether this is a reaction to Graham or to the drinks. I get up and stumble off to bed. I flop down on the mattress. I am sweaty and hot all over. The room spins. …

In the morning I wake to the sound of Graham moving about the house. I hear him in the bathroom. Then in the kitchen. Then going hurriedly out the door. I hear the sound of his car backing out of the driveway, zipping down the street.
I wash and dress quickly. I take time to pack only a few things. I write a note. It is brief.
Graham,
I’m leaving. I won’t be back. You may have trouble understanding the reasons but that’s one of them.
Carrie.
I take a cab to the railroad station and store my suitcase in a locker, then take another cab to an intersection a block from Eric’s apartment at the edge of the French Quarter. I walk the rest of the way, slowing my steps as I draw near.

Chapter 3

I come to Eric’s apartment, take the elevator up and knock on his door.

No answer.

I knock again and wait.

After a few minutes I give it up and leave. I remember the name of a bar he mentioned, The Monk’s Cellar. I hail a cab and have the driver take me there. The bar is in the French Quarter, just off Bourbon Street. I go down the half-flight of stairs and enter hesitantly. It is very dark inside and it takes me awhile to adjust to the light. The bar isn’t crowded. A few of the customers turn to stare at me. Their eyes look sleepy, distant. A few of the men are wearing business suits but most have on worn out colorless pants and dark shirts. There are only a few women. Almost everyone has straight longish hair. It is quiet in the bar except for the muffled sound of rock music coming from behind a velvet curtain at the back. I feel strange, out of place. I look for Eric among the sprinkling of business suits but don’t see him.

I go to a booth in a corner of the room and sit down. The table is covered with a rather soiled checkerboard cloth. The dark squares are blue. In the center of the table a candle burns low in an old wine bottle. There are a lot of paintings on the walls but I can’t make them out very well in the dimness.

I am hungry but order a whiskey instead of food when the waiter comes.

“With water?”

“Yes …”

I sip the whiskey and look about, hoping to see Eric. The drink goes to my head quickly. I finish it and order another. I ask the waiter if he knows a man named Eric Nilsen.

He nods. He frowns a little. He is balding, thin.

“Has he been here today?”

“No.”

“He does come in frequently though, doesn’t he?”

“I haven’t seen him. He hasn’t been in. I’ll bring your drink.”

He leaves before I can ask another question. He stops at a table near the bar where a man with thick black hair and bushy sideburns and mustache sits alone. The waiter whispers something and the dark-haired man looks my way. I glance down quickly at the table. When I raise my eyes again, he is still staring at me. I am about to get up and leave when I see him coming across the room toward me.

He stands over me. His shirt has no collar, his sleeves are badly frayed. His thick neck bulges out. He smells like paint. “You were asking for Eric?” he says.

” … you know him?”

“Yes.” He pulls out a chair. “May I … ?”

I nod. As he sits down I notice in the light of the candle that his deep set eyes are a very soft brown. Like a deer’s. Liquid almost.

He lights a thin cigar with the candle. He is an exceptionally big man with heavy shoulders. His chest bulges out against his shirt. He has large hands with dark paint crusted beneath his fingernails. “Eric is out of town … out of the state,” he says. “He’ll probably be gone several weeks.”

“I just saw him yesterday.”

“He left last night.”

“… you look disappointed.”

“I was hoping to see him. Maybe you can tell me where he is?”

“No.”

“You don’t know … ?”

“I know. I just can’t say.”

“Oh … I see.” I reach for my purse as if to leave.

“No need to go, have a drink with me. I am alone too.” He asks me very casually. His soft eyes intrigue me. Somehow they don’t seem to go with the bigness of him.

“I’ve already had two,” I say. “I’m not used to drinking this early in the day.”

“Have coffee then. And a roll. They have French donuts here.”

“That sounds good.” I laugh a little. “Actually I’m starving … I haven’t had a thing yet to eat today.”

He smiles and signals the waiter. In a few minutes we have a pot of coffee and two plates of donuts sitting in front of us. I eat hungrily. “My name is Armand,” the man says. “I paint. But you won’t see my paintings in any galleries.”

“Aren’t they good?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t you try to sell them?”

“Every afternoon at Jackson Square. To the tourists. But they don’t bring much there. They are worth more, I think.” He hunches forward and his hair creeps down over the back of his shirt. His brown eyes look almost sad in the light. His cheekbones are heavy but I like them. I notice that he eats a donut in just two bites but he isn’t sloppy about it. I like sitting here with him.

We talk. The expression on his face doesn’t change when I tell him I’ve just left my husband and had planned to stay with Eric. He smokes his cigar. He stares at me. There is a warmth about him that seems to flow across the table and take hold of me. We finish the donuts.

“Shall we go to my place?” he asks. “I’ll make more coffee and we can sleep then. You look tired. I have some good wine that we can drink later.”

“All right,” I say smiling. I am not at all surprised at his asking me like that. It seems the natural thing to just get up and go with him. I put out my cigarette and we leave.

When we get outside, Armand takes my arm. The street is quiet. He walks with a slight limp and it takes me awhile to get used to it. We cross the street. He flips a dime to. a shoe shine boy. Another boy comes out from between two buildings and they fight for it. Armand laughs and tosses out another dime. They each get one. He walks along the street as if he owns it. As if he owns the whole city. It sort of overwhelms me, just walking next to him.

He whistles some. He lights another of the thin cigars. I like the smell of them. He seems to be walking slowly but I have trouble keeping up with him.

We come to an old building on a corner. He points up at a window and says that’s where he lives. We climb three flights of stairs and go into his room. It is almost as dark inside as it was in the bar. I am out of breath from climbing and sink into an. overstuffed chair. Armand raises the window shades to let in some light. The room is sparsely furnished. The air seems very dry. It is a very large room with a stove and refrigerator and sink along one wall. There is a rug but it is threadbare. I see no real bed at all. Just a large mattress on the floor in a corner. But a blanket is pulled up neatly over it. The chair I’m sitting in is uncomfortable because of a spring bulging up.

Armand laughs as I squirm about in the chair. “Come sit with me at the table,” he says. “I’ll heat some coffee.”

We sit there, drinking coffee and looking down at the street. The traffic is light. The cars look very small. I think I hear the shoe shine boys arguing but it is just someone calling a dog. The day has clouded up and after a few minutes it starts to rain. The rain splatters the windows and washes the street. I enjoy it being here with Armand, watching and listening to the rain. I like the size of him, the quiet way he has about him, the thickness of his hands and fingers.

He makes no move to touch me. He just keeps refilling our coffee cups and we sit there looking out the window. Everything now seems strangely bound up in the rain. I hear it plinking on the metal garbage cans far below. I hear it on the window. I watch it slanting down. I smell its freshness.

“Shall we go to bed now?” Armand asks.

“Yes …”

“Or would you rather have more coffee?”

“No … just to bed.”

He nods. He finishes his coffee in one long swallow. He puffs in deep on his cigar, then lays it in the ash tray and goes across the room to the bathroom. I light a cigarette and stare out the window. I feel that I have traveled a thousand miles from Graham. I feel distant even from myself. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t find Eric.

Armand comes out of the bathroom, leaves the door open. He gestures toward it. “… if you want to before we lie down,” he says.

“Yes, I think so …” I say. Our arms brush as we pass each other crossing the room. His touch sends shivers shooting through me. I go into the bathroom and pull the door shut. It is an old bathroom but very clean. I let the seat down, then lift my skirt and pull my panties down over my thighs. The seat feels hard and cold.

I smoke my cigarette while I sit there and stare at a pair of heavy men’s shoes in the corner. I pull off a few sheets of the paper and pat myself dry. The paper is coarser than what I’m used to at home. I think about Armand, the size of him, how pleasant it is to be with him. I stand up and pull up my panties, snapping the waistband against my stomach. I pull the handle, making the water gurgle away, then wash my hands with a funny looking bar of greyish soap. I look at myself in the mirror and brush back my hair.

When I come back into the other room, the blanket on the mattress has been pulled down. The sheets look fresh and clean. Armand is standing next to the window. “I’m going to get undressed,” he says. “I don’t like to wear anything in bed. You can leave some of your things on if you want to.”

“No, I’ll get undressed too. I like the feel of sheets …”

“Would you like part of a joint first?”

“… huh?”

“A joint … grass.”

“Marijuana? I don’t know. I never …”

“No …? Not with Eric even? I don’t use it much either but I like to when I go to bed like this.”

“It’s necessary for you …?”

He laughs. “No, not necessary. I just like it. It makes everything last longer … makes it better. But we don’t have to. I won’t either if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll try it,” I say. I move toward him, stand right in front of him. Still he doesn’t touch me. Instead he goes to the cupboard and reaches back on the shelf and gets out a coarse looking cigarette. He lights it, puffs once, then hands it to me. I bring it to my lips, draw in on it hesitantly. I taste the smoke. It is slightly sour. At first. I feel nothing. I hand the cigarette back to him.

We pass the joint back and forth, puffing lightly. I begin to feel as if I am floating. I feel very high. Armand seems very close to me, almost as if he is a part of me. But at the same time he seems far off, remote. He takes the joint from me, sets it in the ash tray. “That’s enough,” he says.

The sound of the rain starts to pick up. I hear it beating rhythmically against the metal cans on the street. It sounds like an orchestra starting up. The music grows louder, sounds almost hauntingly beautiful. Armand begins unbuttoning his shirt.

I take off my blouse, then pull down the zipper at the side of my skirt. I hang my things over a chair. Armand is unbuckling his belt. I stand in front of him in just my bra and panties. I am still drifting, floating from the grass. Armand’s shorts look very white against his skin. I unhook my bra and peel it off. My breasts stand free. I tug down on my panties, kick them off over my ankles. My pussy lips feel wet and creamy.

Armand’s cock juts out thick and hard when he takes off his shorts. My nipples spike as we stand naked facing each other. He steps toward me and I feel the tip of his penis press against my skin. He kisses me. I probe his mouth with my tongue. I hunger to have his prick inside me.

I get down on the mattress and stretch out on my back and open my thighs to him. I look up at his big prick looming above me.. “Come on,” I say. “… come down here with me.”

In a moment we are lying next to each other. I stroke his cock. I can’t stand the waiting to have him push it into me. But he seems in no hurry; he just fondles me. I roll over on my side and pull the tip of his prick between my cunt lips and rub it against my clitoris. “… why don’t you put it all the way in me now … screw me … fuck me …”

I cum before he even gets his cock into me. He pushes all the way in, then, begins fucking me. The rubbing of his strange new skin against mine feels delightful. My cunt walls grip him. I thrust myself up against him. He moves in and out of me slowly, deliciously. I feel his hands on my breasts. I sink my tongue deep into his mouth. I press my swollen nipples up hard against his fingertips. The hot feeling in my pussy builds. ,I can feel his prick all through me. He kisses my breasts; his tongue is wet against my nipples. I cum. The feeling is exquisite.

But it is not over. We only rest for a moment, waiting to begin the climb again. We lie there fondling each other. He sucks my nipples. Slowly. Tantalizingly. I love him to do that. His mouth feels so cool on me … don’t bite, easy … poke at me there with your tongue.

Shall I hold your prick again? I like to touch it. It’s so big. I don’t think I’ve ever felt a cock so thick before. It’s so nice and smooth here at the end. I like to rub my hand all along the length of it. Down here too by your stomach. If my hand was any smaller I wouldn’t even be able to get all the way around it. Shall I hold your balls? They’re nice … like enormous eggs but so soft. I won’t squeeze them too hard. I know that hurts. I’ll just press in on them a little. Don’t stop sucking my nipple. That feels so nice. It’s good to be with you. Do you like it being with me? Can you hear me or am I just talking to myself, just thinking all this?

Let’s eat each other now. I’d love to eat you. Suck you. I’d love to have you eat me too, to feel your tongue inside me. Or shall we save all that and just keep feeling and kissing each other until we’re ready to fuck again? Your hands … I love a man’s hands. Why don’t you rub my pussy with them though? Are you just teasing me … or saving my pussy for your cock? Don’t save it. Feel it. I want it to be all juicy and smooth for you when we fuck again. I want your fingers to be in my cunt. Here I’ll show you. Put your hand here … there, yes … your finger here in the middle … rub me there … harder … mmm that’s nice.

I’ll keep rubbing you too. Your cock feels so warm. Shall I pump it? Not too hard, I don’t want to make you cum. I’ll rub your balls again instead. I love to feel them. But I want to be fucked now … let’s … all right? I want to feel your cock push into me again. I want to feel my cunt lips spread to take you. I want to feel the bare skin of your prick rubbing against me. Let me move a little … like this … there, now it’s right … push in … fuck me now. Keep moving go all the way in. Kiss my breasts … there, yes. Can you rub me down here again while you go in and out of me. Oh are you going to finish already … yes yes all right … I can feel you shooting into me. So warm. I’m curving too. Don’t stop. Keep fucking me … keep cuming in me … .

Chapter 4

We lie there for a long time, our naked bodies sweaty against each other. I play with his prick. He rests with his head on my breasts, his lips brushing one of my nipples. I am conscious of nothing now but the good feeling of his body next to mine. The glow stays with me, warms me. I listen to the steady sound of the rain.

I feel suddenly chilly and pull the blanket up and press closer to Armand. I say something to him about how cold I’m getting but he doesn’t answer and I see that he’s asleep. His face looks strong. Just looking at him makes me feel warmer and I feel that I could lie here on this mattress with him always. ‘

I hear a clap of thunder and glance up. Across the street I see another couple sitting next to a window looking out at the rain. It startles me at first to think that they might have watched us. I get a funny feeling in my stomach when I think about it. I wonder how well they could see everything in the rain … .

I remember the first time I watched someone like that. The only time really. I was in high school then. My breasts were still quite small but swelling larger each month. I had never even kissed a boy. Except once at a party. Nothing else …

We are at a cottage, my family and most of my other relatives. Everyone is there to celebrate my uncle and aunt’s silver wedding anniversary. The adults keep drinking all day from a big barrel of beer. There is a lot to eat. My cousins and I play a lot of games and are allowed to stay up late. Most everybody stays overnight so that the cottage is crowded for sleeping.

They put me in a small bedroom with some of my cousins. Three of the other girls share a big double bed and I have to sleep alone on a cot flush up against the wall. Another of my cousins - Bob — sleeps on a cot across the room. I don’t really know him very well because we live in different cities. There is a lot of giggling and joking at first after the lights go out but everyone is tired from the long day and soon the room is quiet. I can hear only the breathing of the girls asleep in the bed next to me.

A light suddenly shines bright in my eyes. It comes from a small opening in the plasterboard wall next to my cot. I can see into another bedroom clearly. The bed in the other room is about a dozen feet. away from me.

At first I don’t think anything of it. I see my older cousin, Thelma, moving about the room. I’d been to her wedding a few months before. The light goes out for a minute, then comes on again. This time I see both Thel and her husband Fred in the room. He shuts the door. They sit down next to each other on the bed.

Fred kicks off his shoes. Thel is smoking a cigarette. They each hold a drink in their hands. Thel suddenly presses her body up against her husband and kisses him. My heart begins to pound. I shrink back into the darkness, afraid that they might. see me through the hole in the wall. Then I see Fred’s hand reach out and cup one of Thel’s breasts lightly. I lean closer to the opening in the wall again. My nipples tighten, tingle, begin to itch. My cunt starts to get wet.

I watch as Thel’s husband unbuttons her blouse. I see his hand slip inside her bra. I almost explode with the feverish sensation that races all through me. Thel’s. bra is silky white. Flimsy. I can see the shape of her nipples poking out against it. Fred’s hand looks dark against her skin. My belly aches terribly as I watch him take off her bra and begin to stroke her naked breasts. I watch them kissing each other. I can see their wet tongues sliding in and out of each other’s mouths. My own mouth gets so dry that I can hardly swallow.

They lie back on the bed. Fred unzips Thel’s slacks. She stands up and helps him take them off. She is wearing light blue panties. I can see the darkness of the hair around her pussy puffing out against them. Her thighs look very white and smooth. Fred presses his hand to the crotch of her panties and rubs her pussy through the silky material. My own pussy aches. I can feel the wetness running freely between my thighs.

Thel gets back down on the bed again and unzips her husband’s pants. I hold my breath as I watch her hand reach in for him. Suddenly I begin to feel very guilty about it all and try to turn away, try to shut my eyes. But I can’t help looking at them. Thel’s hand is deep inside Fred’s trousers now. I can see her arm moving back and forth. I can hear them whispering. Then they both stand up and take off Fred’s pants and shorts. I see his penis sticking out very long and rigid.

I have never seen a man naked like this before and I am startled at the size of him there. For a moment I can’t breathe. I hold back a cough. I watch Thel pull down her panties and step out of them. They move toward each other and I see the end of Fred’s penis pressing against Thel’s stomach just above her pussy. I hear them laugh quietly about something. Then Thel stands on her tiptoes, grasps Fred’s penis and guides it to her opening. They push hard against each other. Fred’s penis disappears for a moment inside of her, then slides out again. It looks sticky and wet and very hard.

I start to itch terribly between my legs and I reach up under my nightgown to scratch it. I find I am all creamy and velvety there. I rub myself. The rubbing feels good and I keep it up even after the itch is gone.

I keep watching the others. I feel hot all over as they start moving against each other faster. Finally their bodies separate and Fred steps back away from Thel. He sits on the edge of the bed, then lies back. I can see his big penis sticking up. Thel gets on the bed too and kneels over him, one leg on each side of his body. She kneels up straight at first, her back toward me. Her buttocks look very round and smooth and white. Fred’s penis pokes up toward her. She pushes all the way down on him, taking him inside her. She moves up and down. She rides him. His penis looks big and wet, sliding in and out. The lips of Thel’s pussy cling to it, stretch to take in all of it.

I keep rubbing myself as I watch them. The cream from my pussy runs thick over my thighs. My fingers are sticky. I make the bursting feeling happen again and again.

Suddenly I am aware of movement on the cot behind me. Bob. I see him out of the corner of my eye. He is sitting up, watching the others too. At first I am flustered but this lasts only a minute as it starts to excite me that a boy in the same room where I am is watching the others too.

I glance at him again. I see a slight smile on his face and I smile back. I can tell though that he can’t see the others very clearly from where he is sitting. I’m not sure whether I invite him over by the look in my eyes but in a moment he is sitting next to me on my cot.

Together we watch the others. Our heads are only inches apart but our bodies don’t touch. I keep stroking myself beneath my nightgown. Thel and her husband have changed positions on the bed now and he is pushing into her from on top. I can’t see him moving in and out of her so clearly this way but it is even more thrilling now with Bob sitting here next to me. My pussy explodes again under the touch of my fingers. I rub myself very slowly now so that Bob won’t notice and I keep the lower half of my body covered with the blanket.

Bob slides over closer to me, puts his arm around my back. Then he drapes his hand lightly over my shoulder and in a moment I feel his hand cupping one of my breasts through my nightgown. I am too startled to move. Bob’s fingertips caress me. My nipples tighten, hurt. It feels wonderful. But when he tries to slide his hand under the top of my nightgown I draw back. I let him keep rubbing my breasts on the outside of the gown.

We watch the others. I notice that Bob’s other hand is inside the crotch of his pajamas now. I can’t see his penis but I can tell that he is rubbing it. I stroke my pussy harder. I see Thel and her husband rocking rhythmically on the bed. I see the tip of Bob’s penis protruding from his pajamas as he pumps it. His face looks excited as he watches the others. He squeezes my breast harder. I hear Thel moan as her husband seems to be pushing in deeper. I stare at the rigid length of Bob’s penis gleaming even in the dimness as he rubs it. I know that he can see me playing with my pussy now too. But I don’t care. I just keep doing it. Suddenly I feel something warm and wet against my outer thigh. I look down and see that Bob’s penis is shooting its warm wet stuff onto my leg. An almost unbearably good feeling grips me as I explode again.

Through the opening in the wall I can see the final frantic lunges as Thel and her husband finish too. Bob slides his hand down inside the top of my gown again. This time I don’t stop him and his hand moves against my bare breasts. I hug his hand to me. We kiss. I cum again. I am completely out of control. Then there is a sudden stirring on the big double bed where my three cousins are asleep. I am sure one of them is awake. I push Bob’s hand away and he must hear the others too because in a flash he is across the room and back in his own cot. I yank down my gown and bury my face in the pillow. I lie very still. But there is no more noise from the other bed. I keep looking at Thel and Fred still wrapped in a naked embrace. But Fred’s penis is out of her now and looks very small. I watch him get up and walk across the room and snap out the light. Everything turns black. I lie there waiting to see if the light will come on again. I wait to see if Bob will come back to my bed. But nothing more happens. The cottage is very still. It takes me a long time to fall asleep.

The next morning I don’t speak to Bob or look at him directly. I feel my face flush when The] comes over with her husband to say good-bye just before they leave. A strange emptiness comes over me as I watch their car back out of the driveway and move slowly down the narrow dirt road toward the highway. Later I doze fitfully in the back seat of our car as we make the long trip home. I open my eyes and see the heads of my parents looking straight ahead. I close my eyes again. It all happens over and over in my imagination as we cruise along the highway. Every night in bed for weeks afterwards I imagine Bob being there with me, with Thel and her husband in a room just across the way.

It is still raining when we get up. The sky is grey. I dress slowly. Armand makes a fresh pot of coffee. The delicious warmth from our lovemaking still flows through us. I am tired though. I feel that I could lie down again and sleep the rest of the day.

Armand shows me some of his paintings. They are mostly scenes of the French Quarter. Quaint old buildings with their balconies. Narrow streets. Horse drawn carts. But the faces of the people dominate them. Most people have eyes like Armand’s, deep-set, brown, somehow sad. But I don’t say anything to him about that. I admire the paintings, commenting on the ones I especially like. This pleases him. I don’t know much at all about art but his work does seem to have a quality about it. He says he’d intended to take some of the paintings to Jackson Square to sell this afternoon but that the weather has changed all that. I feel glad he’s not going away.

It strikes me strange that he has none of his paintings hanging in his room. I ask him about it.

“After I finish one, I know every line,” he says. “There is no need for me to hang it up.” He stacks the paintings back against the wall and gets more coffee, then lights another thin cigar.

When the rain lets up we go for a short walk. The streets smell fresh and clean. Some children are wading and splashing in a puddle around a plugged up storm sewer. We stop to watch them for a minute and Armand laughs heartily at two small boys fighting fiercely in the water. We go back to the room and Armand makes supper. A chili dish and a salad. I help him set the table but don’t interfere with his making the meal. We drink wine with the chili. Armand gulps it down like water. After we finish eating, he plays some records on an old phonograph. All of them are Beethoven. He never listens to anything else he says.

We drink more wine. It makes me sleepy and I suggest going to bed. Armand agrees and after one more glass of wine we undress and get under the blankets. It isn’t quite as exciting when he screws me this time but it feels good to have his big prick inside me and to cum with him again. Afterwards we turn on our sides and I snuggle up to him, my breasts pressed against his back, my knees fitted into the hollows of his drawn up legs.

Chapter 5

We rise early the next morning and eat a slow breakfast. I have a small headache but it doesn’t matter. Armand says that he has to go away for awhile but that he’ll be back about noon. He leaves without kissing me but I know that there is feeling between us. Already it seems as if I have been living with him for days, weeks, months.

I take a bath, do the dishes and wait for him. The sun is warm coming through the window and after tidying the room I sit in a chair letting the light soak into my skin.
Armand brings some beer back with him when he returns. It is hot in the room but the beer is refreshing. We talk for awhile, telling each other something about ourselves. He asks about my husband, whether we had trouble in bed.

I smile. “Not trouble really … but it didn’t really mean much to him. It all never lasted more than a few minutes with us. I always felt stranded … you know, wanting it to be something more.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not good,” he says. He looks up. “Have you been with many men?”

“Not as many as you think probably.” I laugh. “Jumping into bed like I did with you is something new to me. It really started only with Eric. And that was just one time. Oh there were a few men before I was married boys really but I’ve been an honest wife until just a few days ago. You don’t believe that? No matter. But I did daydream a lot I guess … thinking about how it would be with someone besides Graham — that’s my husband — always trying to reach out to find something … that’s what I’m doing now I guess.”

“And now that you have, are you sorry?”

“No.

“You want to now?”

“Mmm hmm.” I laugh again. “In fact I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I even took a bath so I’d be nice and fresh. It’s good with you. Let’s work up to it nice and slow again like we did the first time yesterday. I liked it like that.”

He smiles. “We have the whole day,” he says.

We undress each other. It excites me when he undoes my bra. His hands rest cool for a moment against my breasts, making my nipples stiffen. He pulls my panties down over my hips. I undress him and draw out his warm cock. I press the tip against my stomach, feel a trace of wetness trail against my skin.

We sit cross-legged, facing each other on the mattress. We are both naked now. Armand fondles my breasts. He presses my nipples in gently with his fingers. He moves his hands to my knees, then slides them very slowly up along the insides of my thighs. When the tips of his fingers are but an inch from my pussy, he stops.

“Come on, don’t tease,” I say laughing. “… not that slowly. Touch me there … feel me.” I reach out for his prick. I pump it, make it big. I rub my thumb over the moist, sticky tip.

Armand presses his hand to my cunt, slips a finger between my swollen cunt lips. He kisses my neck, my breasts. He kisses me all the way down the length of my body. My ribs. My stomach. I lie back. He buries his face in my pussy. He eats me. I cum with a shudder as his tongue dips in deep. He draws my clitoris into his mouth. Sucks it. When I cum again he stops eating me and rests his head against my thighs. He runs his finger lightly over the outer folds of my pussy.

My eyes slip open and focus on the heavy thickness of his prick. I want to eat him too. I swing around on the mattress and press my lips to his cock. I stroke it, kiss the tip. The size of it makes my hand seem small. I hear a sudden sound at the door and sit up abruptly. I turn and see a young man and a girl walking across the room toward us. I am startled and embarrassed to be seen naked like this. But Armand just glances up casually at the others and says hello. He keeps rubbing my thighs and cunt.

The young man and girl stand above us. They chat for a minute with Armand. The man is quite tall and slender with longish blond hair that creeps over his shoulders. The girl has a good figure. She is wearing white lipstick. She has attractive features but there is a rather coarse look about her face. I avoid looking directly into their eyes but it excites me strangely to have them standing there while Armand caresses me.

“… want us to leave and come back later?” the young man asks.

“No … you’re here now … stay,” Armand says. “You don’t mind do you, Carrie?”

I shake my head without looking up.

“These are friends of mine,” Armand .says. “Hal and Lorraine … Hal stays here with me off and on. He’s been in Texas the last few months.”

I manage to look up and smile. “Hi …” I say feeling awkward. They smile back and say hello. The two of them don’t seem to pay much attention to my nakedness and my initial embarrassment begins to disappear.

“Sit down with us …” says Armand. “… there’s room. Can I get you some coffee.”

“Don’t bother.” Hal says. “We’ve just finished eating. Maybe we’ll have a cup later.”

They sit down. Armand and I move over on the mattress to make room for them. He doesn’t stop petting my pussy. I suddenly realize that I am holding his cock again. I begin to stroke it lightly, feel it swell in my hand. I see Hal glance at Armand’s hand on my cunt. Lorraine looks our way too. My forehead gets hot as I thrill to the sensation of the two of them looking at us. All the time Armand caresses me he talks with Hal. They use the names of people and places I’ve never heard of. I hear one of them mention Eric but they don’t say anything about him that I understand.

After a few minutes Lorraine snuggles up to Hal and starts kissing him. They stop that and quickly take off their clothes. Hal’s body looks lean and hard. His ribs are prominent. His skin is exceptionally tan. Even his prick is sort of a golden brown. It is slender but looks very long even though it is only half-erect. I watch it stretch out as Lorraine plays with it. At full-length his cockhead has a very smooth, perfectly rounded look. I feel a sudden twinge in my cunt as I watch Lorraine begin to rub it against her thigh.

Hal lies back and Lorraine climbs over him, her slim white buttocks pointing toward me. She settles down on him, spears her cunt with his prick. Armand and I watch them screw. Hal’s prick looks slick and wet as Lorraine rides up and down on it.

Armand keeps rubbing my cunt. I pump his cock. It is big and thick now, the firm head swollen and slightly purplish. I want to eat him now, as I was starting to before the others entered. I just keep rubbing him while I watch Lorraine and Hal fuck. Hal’s tan skin begins to glisten in the sunlight as the beads of sweat gather on his body. He bucks up harder against Lorraine. His cock shines wet. They pump faster. Then their bodies start to shudder as Hal spurts into her. I feel myself cuming too.

I pull Armand’s hand tighter against my pussy. I see the rivulets of Hal’s cum trickling down Lorraine’s thighs. She flops forward over him, his softening prick still inside her. I feel Armand’s prick throbbing in my hand. It is hard .like iron. I want him to fuck me now. I want to feel him pushing deep into my cunt. I know that the others will be watching just as we watched them. But I don’t mind that at all. The thought of it excites me. Hal and Lorraine are resting on their backs now. Hays prick looks beautiful lying soft and sticky against his thigh.

Armand turns to face me. My knees are drawn back and up. My ankles dig into the mattress next to my buttocks. Sitting like this spreads my pussy lips wide and I can feel the wetness trickling out. I pull Armand’s prick to me, rub it against my thigh just a few inches from my cunt. His balls hang big and heavy against the mattress.

I run my fingertips along the underside of his cock. I stroke him. His prick swells until the taut skin at the tip looks as if it is about to split. Hal and Lorraine are sitting up now, sharing a joint and watching us. Hal leans over and hands me the joint. I thank him and puff it twice, then hand it back to him. The taste is strong. I am bursting with passion. I feel that I could fondle Armand’s cock forever.

I pump it harder now, milk the clear drops out the tiny hole at the tip. I want to lick up the wetness. I get up to my knees and lean forward and take the head of his prick into my mouth and start to blow Armand.

After a minute I sit back on my haunches and get the joint again from Hal. I puff it once, then bend forward and start eating Armand’s cock again. I feel as if I am drifting. Armand’s prick feels enormous in my mouth. My mouth feels enormous. I pull his hand to my cunt. I want him to eat me now. to fuck me. “Why don’t you screw me now?” I say. “… or eat me?”

“Which?”

“Eat me first … just for a minute.”

I lie back. I wait for the touch of his tongue. I close my eyes. I cum almost as soon as his mouth touches me. I can feel his mustache scratching me. I open my eyes again. Everything in my pussy is hot and wet. I can see the others smoking and looking down at us. I pull Armand’s face tighter against my cunt. I can feel his nose, his lips, his teeth against me there. But I can’t get enough of him this way now. I need his cock inside me. I push back on his shoulders. “Fuck me now … screw me …”

He gets to his knees and pushes into me. He fucks me hard.

I strain up against the thrusts of his prick, reach for his balls, try to get them up between my buttocks. I am conscious of the others watching us but I don’t look up at them. I cum again.

He pushes deeper into me now, and I know that it is almost over. I feel myself begin to peak again. I hold back, waiting for him. Then I feel his prick erupt inside me and his lips crush down on mine.

His scum shoots into me. I feel the spasms deep in my cunt. I lock my legs around his back and hold him deep inside me.

The four of us sit naked on the mattress, sharing another joint. I don’t take much of it. I am too full of everything already. The men’s cocks look good to me lying limp between their thighs. Armand puts his big arm around me. I lean against his chest and shut my eyes. I feel very warm and comfortable. My cunt feels as if his prick is still inside it.

Chapter 6

We stay together in Armand’s room for the next weeks, Armand and Hal and myself. Lorraine goes back to her own apartment the following morning. I go with Armand to get my suitcase from the railroad station and hang my dresses in the closet and take a drawer of the dresser for my other things. Armand and Hal talk one night about the months Hal spent in Texas. Apparently he and some other men were trying to smuggle in grass from Mexico. I gather that Eric is in on it too. But I don’t have any interest in Eric now and don’t pay much attention to. what they say. We drink a lot of wine. I enjoy it being with the two men. Armand works almost every evening on his paintings. Sometimes we play cards.

The three of us sleep together each night on the mattress. It is crowded, but I like sleeping between the two of them. Armand always sleeps naked. I wear a nightgown. Hal goes to bed in his shorts. Though we share the same bed Hal makes no move to touch me. He treats me as if I am strictly Armand’s girl. As the days pass, Armand makes love to me less frequently than at first. He is usually too tired from drinking wine. But when he does screw me it is good. He is big and warm and comfortable. His cock fills me. I love to feel it rubbing hard inside my cunt. Sometimes I wonder whether Hal is really asleep while Armand and I are making it. I begin to think more and more about him lying there just inches from us.

One morning I get up early and start making breakfast. I am wearing a thin white shortie nightgown. The men are still sleeping. I keep glancing over at them. Hal stirs occasionally but his eyes are shut. The bacon smells good frying.

Hal gets up, comes across the room and says good morning to me.

I smile. “Hi. Breakfast won’t be ready for awhile. I’m just cooking the bacon.”

“No hurry,” he says. “I’m not hungry yet anyway. I think I’ll take a shower.”

I turn the bacon while I listen to the sound of. the shower running. Armand sleeps on. I light a cigarette and puff it between sips of coffee.

The sound of the shower stops. After a minute Hal comes back into the room. He is naked except for a towel draped over his shoulder. This surprises me. I haven’t seen him undressed since that first day with Lorraine. But he is casual about it. I glance at his cock. It is limp and tan. “Want some coffee?” I ask.

“Sure …” he says. He steps forward. I pour a cup and hand it to him. We, are standing just a foot or so apart.

He thanks me and sits down in the chair next to the window. He hunches forward and drinks the coffee and looks down at the street. “Come over and sit with me for a minute,” he says. “No one will be wanting breakfast soon.”

I bring my coffee and sit in the chair next to his. He leans back then and puts his feet up on the window sill. His legs are tightly muscled and covered with fine blond hairs. His prick looks soft and golden against his thigh.

“Was the water hot?” I ask.

“At first. But it ran out and I had to finish cold.”

“The tank must be too small,” I say. “That always used to happen to me too. Now I always soap myself first, then just get in and rinse off.” I notice his cock suddenly rise and stiffen. “Well, what caused that?” I laugh.

He takes his feet off the window sill and leans forward again. “I don’t know …” he says smiling. “I guess I was just thinking about how good you’d look in the shower.”

“Really? You usually act as if you think I’m your sister or something.” I laugh again. “Why are you bending forward like that? Bashful?”

“No … just looking down at the street. … you like it better when I sit back?”

“Mmm hmm …”

“… like this?”

“Yes, but you’re not so big there now. You’re shrinking.”

“I can’t control that. Hey, you must like looking at my cock.”

“Uh huh … that’s normal, isn’t it?”

“Sure … it’s just that I always thought you were hung up on Armand.”

“I am I guess. But you’re a man too. That’s enough, isn’t it? Besides, you’re rather nice to look at there, you know. Your skin is such a soft tan …”

His prick starts to rise again.

“See what you’re doing now,” he laughs.

“Just by talking to you? I should keep talking then, shouldn’t I? It makes me shiver looking at you like this … makes me want to touch you.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Not right now.”

“Why?”

“You know …” I nod at Armand.

“He’s asleep. Besides, he wouldn’t mind. He doesn’t think he owns you.”

“I know. And he doesn’t. But I couldn’t be dishonest about it … you know … do something with you when he doesn’t know … while he’s asleep like that.”

“Just touching me? That couldn’t hurt anything. You’re not going to just let me sit here, are you?”

“Don’t blame me. I’m not the one who came walking in naked.”

I look at him. I see his prick jutting up only a few inches from my hand. I admire the perfect shape of his cockhead. It is long but even more slender than I remember. The shaft is tan but the tip turns almost red as it stretches taut. A dark vein courses irregularly along the side of it.

I reach out and touch it with my fingertips.

I slide my hand up the length of it, then back down. Then up again.

I start to pump him. He grows even more rigid in my hand.

I am tingling all over. I suddenly want him to screw me. I want to feel his prick slide into my cunt … my mouth.

I bend forward to kiss the tip of it but stop as I hear Armand getting up. I let go of Hal’s prick, sit back straight in my chair. Hal takes a drink of his coffee.

Armand comes over and stands next to us. He is naked too. He doesn’t say anything at first. He takes my coffee from me, sips it, hands the cup back. He puts his big hand lightly on my shoulder, looks down at me. “If you want to go to bed with him, go ahead.” There is no edge in his voice, just the direct statement.

I kiss Armand, draw his hand down under the top of my nightgown to my breasts. My nipples tighten against his fingertips. I rub his thigh, move my hand up to his balls and cup their fullness. I stroke his prick, feel it thicken. With my other hand I reach out for Hal. I pump his cock and Armand’s at the same time. “I like you both,” I say.

In a minute the three of us are on the mattress. I lie between them on my back. I rub their pricks. They both get very stiff. Hal strokes my breasts while Armand slides his hand up my thighs to my cunt. His fingers gently separate my pussy lips, slip in smoothly against the wet soft skin. I pump their cocks faster. Hal tries to pull down my gown so that he can kiss my breasts. I am afraid it will tear.

“Wait a minute …” I say.

I let go of both men and stand up. Hal stands behind me and helps me pull the nightgown over my head. I feel his rigid prick jut in against my buttocks. I can see our reflections in the dresser mirror. My nipples point out pink and hard.

Armand is sitting up now, caressing my thighs. I bend my knees, then kneel down all the way so that he can reach my pussy. His fingers press in against the wetness of my cunt.

I kiss him. I rub his hard cock. Hal’s prick jams harder between the cheeks of my ass. He is kneeling behind me now. He rubs my buttocks, spreads them apart with his hands. My skin is very tender where the tip of his prick pushes against me. I am going crazy with excitement. I’ve never been with two men at the same time like this.

They are not competitive about it. Each seems satisfied with just a part of me. Hal rubs my breasts. My ass gyrates wildly under the pressure of his cock. Only gradually do I realize that he is trying to fuck me there. I’ve never been screwed in the ass before and I’m not sure I want to be now but the thought of it thrills me. I bend forward farther to try to help him. I feel his prick inch in.

It hurts. The hurt increases as his pushing keeps stretching my skin, then suddenly I feel myself open up to him and he slips smoothly, easily all the way in. My skin contracts, grips his prick tighter. For a moment the pain is intense.

We lie on our sides. Hal pushes his cock slowly in and out of my ass. The burning hurt of it feels almost unbearably good. I pull Armand’s prick up tight against my pussy lips. I want him to screw me too. I tell him. He slides down some on the mattress, then I feel the big cock sliding into my cunt.

I fuck them both. It keeps hurting me. After a few minutes, I feel I can’t take any more of it. But I love it. I can’t get enough of it. I feel faint, feel that I will surely pass out. My ass is on fire. My cunt. I am burning up in a searing consuming flame. My tongue is parched. I can’t swallow. I thirst. I pant for air as they keep ramming their pricks into me. Armand kisses me and the liquid of his tongue for a moment eases my thirst. I suck it eagerly. I clutch his shoulders. My fingernails claw ,him deep. His thrusts become suddenly more urgent. Hal’s cock drives harder into me from behind. Their two cocks fill me, stretch me. The flame inside me flares. I explode. I keep cuming as Armand’s cock spurts its warm scum into me. I feel Hal curving now too. His last violent lunges hurt terribly. His prick feels as if it is sticking all the way up into my belly. I hear him groan. His cum spills into me, floods me. I burst again. I hear both men breathing heavily, feel their pricks shrink slowly out of me. My thighs and the skin around my ass are sticky with their cum.

Chapter 7

The pace of my heartbeat slows. I roll onto my back. Armand and Hal lie next to me, their bodies sweaty. I feel relaxed but very tired, exhausted, as if I haven’t slept for days. I feel that I could sleep forever … .

Armand wakes up and gets ready to go to the Square to sell his paintings.

“It should be a good day for it,” I say.

“Yes, it’s sunny. The tourists should come flocking.”

“I hope you have good luck. Do you ever take along that one of the old woman sitting on the porch steps?”

“No. You mean the one with the vases?”

“Yes, all lined up in a row. I like that one … the way the woman looks … her face. I think you could sell it.”

“For how much?”

“I don’t know. I can’t even guess. Sixty maybe.”

He laughs. “You don’t know the tourists. They don’t want to spend money like that.”

“Fifty then, try it. Someone will like it.”

“They might like it but they won’t buy it. I’ll take it though anyway. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You looked strange for a minute. I thought maybe you didn’t feel well.”

“No, I’m all right. I guess I was just thinking. I had an unusual dream … different. Do you have a cigarette?”

“Yes … right here.”

He hands me a crumpled pack and I get out a cigarette and light it. “I hope you didn’t mind it about Hal …”

“Why should I? You did what you wanted to, didn’t you?”

“I guess so. I never thought anything quite like that would happen though … both of you at once. Just so you’re not angry or anything.”

“I’m not angry,” he says. His eyes look very blown, liquid. “Really though, I must go.”

“I know. But you should eat first. I made some bacon earlier. I could heat it.”

“All right.”

“How about some eggs with it?”

He nods.

“Two?”

“Yes ..:”

He eats breakfast quickly, gathers up his paintings and leaves. He doesn’t kiss me good-bye but he clasps my hand tight when I place it on his shoulder. “I’ll try to sell the Old Woman,” he says. “If I do, I’ll bring back some good wine.”

Out the window I watch him walk slowly with his slight limp down the street toward the Square. A small boy comes out of a building, tags along with him. Together they turn the corner.

When Hal gets up I cook him eggs and bacon too. I have my housecoat on and he reaches for me playfully every time I go by the table. He is still naked. He gets his hand under the housecoat against the bare skin of my thighs.

I laugh. “Hey, haven’t you had enough? You can’t want it again so soon.”

He moves his hand farther up my thigh, slips a finger between the dry lips of my cunt. I didn’t really screw you before, you know.”

“You didn’t? It felt like it to me. I can still feel it” I laugh. “I probably will for a week.

He rubs my pussy. “… here, I mean. In your cunt. The other was good but I want to fuck you here too.”

“… now?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Mmm hmm … sure. I’m kind of worn out though. I’d like to take a bath first. Kind of freshen up.”

“I’ll bring my coffee and keep you company.”

I run the water hot until the tub .is full. Hal helps me off with the housecoat and I step in. I lean against the back of the tub and try to relax. But I can’t with him sitting there staring at me. I watch his prick rise slowly until it stands straight out. “You look as if you haven’t had a woman in a month,” I say laughing.

“It turns me on to look at you sitting there,” he says. He kneels down nest to the tub. Want me to wash your breasts?” he asks.

“Mmm hmm … I’d love it.” I hand him the soap.

He works up a lather in his hands, then begins soaping my breasts. He rubs too hard, hurts me.

“Hey … easier! I’m tender there … gently, do it gently.”

“Sorry. This better? Like this?”

“Mmmm yes … I like your hands. When you do it like that they slide so nice.”

“I’ll wash your pussy now, all right?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to spread your legs a little.”

I nod. I feel his finger slip through the wet mat of hair to my cunt lips. He strokes me slowly. “Does that feel as good as the other?”

“Yes … mmmm … you make me purr like a cat. Your cock looks like it’s trying to get in the tub with me … sticking way out like that.”

“Why don’t I?”

“There isn’t enough room. I could wash you there though … with you kneeling like that. Soap you. Rub you.”

He gives me the soap and I get my hands sudsy. I wash his prick slowly, working the soap in. I like the way his cock skin feels so smooth and slippery with the soap on it. I move my hand lower and wash his balls. I get him all white and soapy, then rinse him off. I love to run my hands over the smooth skin of his prick.

“I can’t get all the soap off when you’re kneeling there,” I say. “Why don’t I get out and you can get in and rinse off. Then I’ll eat you while you’re so nice and clean. We’ll go in the other room where it’s comfortable … take our time, enjoy it.”

We lie on the mattress, our bodies naked and still moist from the bath. The afternoon sun shines warm on us. It is perfect for it. I eat Hal first. I stroke his prick with my fingertips and bring it to my lips. I kiss his cockhead and lather it with my tongue. I press my mouth all along the slender pulsating shaft, making lipstick marks in an uneven row. I kiss his balls, his inner thighs. I slide my open mouth up along his cock, my tongue tasting his flesh.

I sit back, rest for a moment and bend down to him again. He is on his back now with his prick jutting up. I open my lips. The cockhead goes in. I let my teeth graze over it. I .slide my lips down farther until I have half of him in my mouth. I move my mouth back very slowly, teasing his taut wet skin with my tongue. I bite him. Lick him. I play with his balls, rub them gently against my chin. His prick is beautiful, good to have between my lips, the smoothness, the warmth, the sweet taste of it. It is made to be eaten. I am made to eat it. I take it deep into my mouth, suck it until he is about to cum. I stop. I lie back. “Your turn now,” I say.

He eats me exquisitely. He sucks my cunt lips, chews them a little. I feel his tongue dip deep into me, linger against the walls of my pussy. I cum as he licks my clitoris. Then everything settles down inside me for a minute and I relax and enjoy it.

Chapter 8

It is late at night. Hot. The three of us sleep naked on the mattress. We have the windows open wide but there is no breeze. I feel restless, get up for a cigarette and sit by the window. In the room across the street I see the same couple I saw the first day I came here with Armand. They are talking, laughing about something, their arms around each other.

They come to the window and look out. The man fondles the woman’s breasts. I wonder how often they’ve watched Hal or Armand or both of them fuck me. They can’t see me now though. I’ve put out my cigarette and am hidden in darkness. They turn to face each other and embrace. I get the hot feeling in the pit of my stomach as the man begins to stroke the woman’s pussy on the outside of her dress. She turns suddenly and draws the shade, but only halfway and I can still see his trousers and her skirt. In a moment her thighs are bare and I can see she isn’t wearing panties. They move back deeper into the room and the man takes off his pants. I stare at his prick. It looks big and thick to me even from across the street. They get down on the bed. I watch them.

I put another cigarette in my mouth but don’t light it. The cream begins to run in my cunt as I look at them. I want to be fucked too. I look over at Armand and Hal lying on their backs naked. Hal has screwed me almost every day since that first time a week ago, Armand less often. I know I could have either one or both of them now just by going over and waking them. But I can’t help watching the others. I look at the man’s cock pushing in and out of the woman’s pussy and imagine how it would feel if it were in my cunt instead. I concentrate on it. Then suddenly they are finished and after a minute or so their light goes out. I sit there next to the window looking into the blackness and feeling strangely alone.

I go back to bed and crawl in between Armand and Hal. I reach down and take their soft pricks in my hands and stroke them very lightly. I don’t want to wake them. Not now. I want to go over it again in my mind about the man and woman. I keep fondling Armand’s cock. And Hal’s. And keep imagining that the cock of the man across the way is pushing deeper and deeper into my cunt.

I take care of Armand’s paintings at the Square while he goes to the dentist. It is sunny out and he has expected it to be a good day but no one buys anything from me, not even a sketch. I get impatient sitting on the bench smoking and watching all the people going by. I want to get up and walk along with them. Go somewhere. Anywhere …

A man comes by and stops to study the paintings. He is tall and wears dark glasses. He seems interested in the painting of the old woman and the vases. He examines it carefully, holding his hand to his mouth. Then he looks at some portraits Armand has done. He says he likes them and asks me if I will paint his.

I smile. “I’m not the artist,” I say. “I’m just here to help sell things. Come back tomorrow if you want to be painted.”

“I’ll be gone tomorrow. I’m alone in town … staying at the Holiday Inn. I’m only here for tonight.” He turns to study the painting of the old woman again but now I know he is just faking it.

I light a cigarette.

He tries to pick me up. He isn’t very subtle about it. He even tells me how much money he has with him. I turn him down, say I can’t leave the paintings.

“You could at least have a drink in the bar across the street with me,” he says finally. “We’ll sit by the window. You can watch the paintings from there.”
“I don’t need someone to buy me a drink,” I say. I flip my cigarette into the gutter even though it is only half gone. “Did you want to buy a painting or not?”

He moves on. I watch him shuffle down the street. He stops again in front of someone else’s paintings. I wish Armand would come back. I’d expected this to be enjoyable. But the time passes slowly. I smoke more cigarettes. I am bored and tired of it. I begin to wish that I’d gone with the man in the dark glasses.

It is late afternoon when Armand finally gets back from the dentist. We quit for the day and carry the stack of paintings back to his room. His jaw begins to hurt when the Novocain wears off. He opens some wine. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and the wine makes my head hot even though I only sip it. Armand drinks the wine by the glassful but it doesn’t help his jaw much. He lights a joint and asks me if I want some. I shake my head no. He smokes it down all the way and flops on the mattress. In minutes he is sleeping and I am just sitting there alone.

I make myself something to eat, then stand at the window staring out. I can hear the music and the shouting coming from Bourbon Street where the crowds are gathering a few blocks away. The room is stuffy. I wish we had a balcony so that I could sit out in the cool night air. I begin to feel shut in, imprisoned. The noise of the crowds and the music in the distance grows louder, beats a din against my ears.

I put on a tight black dress that hugs my breasts and go out. I wear heels but no stockings. When I reach Bourbon Street I mix in with the crowds and move along rapidly with them. It feels good to be away from Armand’s room at first, to breathe in the fresh night air, to be a part of the crowds.

I walk on several blocks. Two soldiers try to pick me up but they look drunk and I ignore them. I gaze at the faces of the people coming the other way, hoping to see someone I know. But the faces all look alike. Eyes, noses, mouths pasted on white skin. Sometimes the eyes turn to stare at me. The crowds grow thicker, the music and the laughing louder. People keep bumping into me. I can’t stand the bustling, the noise. It all presses in on me.

I turn at the corner and walk down to the next street, a block from Bourbon. It is quieter there. The crowds are smaller. There aren’t so many cars, so many neon lights. I go into some of the antique shops and look about. In one place I play the music boxes until the clerk comes up and asks if I’m interested in buying one. I shake my head and go back out onto the street.

I walk on. I light a cigarette. At the next corner I catch a man’s eye while I wait for the traffic light to change. I smile. He smiles back. Our arms brush as we cross the street. The shock feeling hits. Surges through me. We walk on together. We don’t speak but there is no awkwardness. It just happens. He takes my arm and we walk back to Bourbon Street. He tells me his name is Jacques. “I’m Carrie,” I say.

We go into a seafood place and order two plates of cold shrimp. They taste delicious. We each have a mug of beer. The waiter who brings our order is black and strikingly handsome. Jacques’ knee presses against mine beneath the table. We eat the shrimp. I keep glancing at the black waiter as he moves about the restaurant. I push my leg back against Jacques, It is settled.

Jacques finishes his beer. “Do you want more shrimp?” he asks.

“Another plate? I couldn’t.”.

“Shall we go then?”

“All right.”

“To my place?”

“Yes.”

His room is small and dark. It has a bluish oriental rug. The head of some animal sticks out from a plaque on the wall. There is a lamp with an opaque green shade that casts an almost eerie glow across the room.

Jacques brings me a drink. It tastes bitter at first but the whiskey feels good on my throat. We share a cigarette. It is quiet in the room. The black velvet sofa we are sitting on is very soft. It relaxes me to be away from the crowds.

We kiss each other a little. Jacques feels my breasts. I rub his thigh, moving my hand almost all the way up to his prick.

“Would you rather go on the bed or stay here?” he asks.

“This is nice,” I say.

“The bed is wider … it’ll be more comfortable.”

“All right.”

“… you want to undress first?”

“Yes.”

We stand next to the bed and strip off each other’s clothes. I cling to him, push my breasts against the hard warmth of his chest. His cock presses against my stomach. It feels large but not very hard. I pump it with my hand for almost a minute, trying to put some stiffness into it. I don’t have much luck but still it excites me to be holding a strange new prick. I rub it against the curls of hair on my mound, pull the tip down to the soft moist folds of my pussy. Still nothing happens.

“I’d like to have you inside me,” I say, “but I don’t think you’re hard enough yet.”

“No …”

“Do you have trouble that way?”

“Sometimes …”

“Often?”

He nods. “But I didn’t think I would with you. It was all right until everything started. Then I just …”

“Is there anything I should do°”

“Just what you are … keep rubbing me against yourself like that.”

I do. I fit the head of his prick between my pussy lips and move it up and down as tantalizingly as I can against my skin. It seems to stiffen some. “We could try it now,” I say. “Maybe if we could just get the end of you into me that would take care of the rest.”

I pull the pillow out from under the bedspread and slide it under my buttocks. I spread my thighs wide, opening my pussy to him as much as I can. He kneels over me. Together we try to stuff him into me. It doesn’t work. We manage to get his cock almost halfway in but then it bends and softens and he shrinks out of me.

I give it up and let go of him. “Maybe we should rest awhile,” I say. “Try it again later.”

He nods and moves away from me. He sits on the edge of the bed and smokes a cigarette. He doesn’t offer me one. He doesn’t even look at me. He is obviously miserable, unhappy, frustrated. I am only frustrated.

“I think you worry about it too much,” I say. “Probably thinking about it and all just makes it worse.”

He doesn’t answer. He stares straight ahead.

I sit there for a minute feeling helpless. Then I have an idea. I slide up next to him on the bed until my cunt is pressing against his ass. “Maybe I should eat you,” I say.

He turns, looks at me. He doesn’t say anything but his eyes brighten. ‘
I keep it up, make it stronger. “I’d like to suck you. You have such a nice prick to look at. It would feel so good in my mouth. I’d kiss it, suck it. Your balls too. All of you. Let me feel your cock now. Mmm, it’s a nice warm one. I like men who feel so warm and smooth. Come on, slide over here next to me so I can eat you … make you big and hard. You can eat my cunt too if you want. I’d like to feel your tongue way up inside me.”

He swings his legs back up onto the bed. I turn so that my mouth is in front of his prick, my belly against his face. I feel his fingers separate the folds of my pussy. His touch is delightful. I stroke his cock teasingly, take the tip into my mouth. He eats my cunt. I feel his tongue dip between my pussy lips. He reaches up and feels the points of my breasts.

I suck his prick. He has a different taste, a sweeter taste than other men. I like it. I swallow what I can from him as the stickiness keeps leaking out. It is like thick honey, like sweet wine. His cock is not hard but it fills my mouth. Thick. Supple. Smooth. I slide my lips down the outside of the shaft. I kiss his balls, press my tongue against them.

I go back to the big wet tip. I don’t care now whether his cock gets hard. I just want to feel his scum spill against my throat. I want to taste it, drink it.

I suck him harder. I rub the tender skin behind his balls. I feel his hips lift, his hands grip my legs. I mouth his prick expectantly. It throbs. He lunges up. His seed spurts into my mouth, warm creamy, sweet. I swallow some of it, let the rest trickle out of my mouth. I lick his prick once more, then slip it out of my mouth and nuzzle my cheek in against its sticky softness.

I expect him to be satisfied, happy that he’s finished in my mouth. But instead he gets up and paces about the room irritably, smoking a cigarette. He makes two drinks, hands me one. But he doesn’t say anything. He avoids looking at me.

I feel awkward, try to think of something to say. “I think you were really hard enough for awhile there,” I lie. “But I got so carried away I just couldn’t stop eating you …”

He doesn’t answer. He just looks at me blankly, takes a long swallow of his drink.

I give up trying to talk to him. I put the pillow under my head and lie back on it and close my eyes. After a few minutes I feel myself slipping off to sleep. When I wake hours later, the room is dark except for the dawn light seeping through the window. Jacques isn’t in bed with me. I decide he must be gone and get up and dress quickly to leave.

As I cross the room to get my purse, I see him asleep on the sofa sitting up, his head drooped forward against his chest. I stand there looking at him for a moment. I feel sorry for him. I go out the door quietly, careful not to wake him. The streets are empty, bleak in the grey dawn. I pass a man who is pulling a cart filled with old clothes and bottles. The bottles rattle. There is debris all along the street.

Chapter 9

After that I go out often. I never plan it but I get restless, bored, the feeling that I am in a prison and I have to get out. “I’m going for a walk,” I say. Armand glances up from his paintings. He nods. Sometimes he smiles. Hal just stares at me. He’d screw me every night if I wanted him to but once or so a week now is enough for me with him. I crave something, someone new. Men I see along the street. Strangers who excite me when I just look at them. I am never in any hurry about finding someone. I only go for men who appeal to me strongly. Sometimes I end up just coming back to the room and crawling into bed between Armand and Hal and waking one or both of them to fuck me.

But when I do see a man I want, it never takes very long to get him into bed with me. Or into the back seat of a car. Or onto the damp grass of some small park. I play with their pricks. Eat them. I fuck them violently, pushing my cunt hard against their eager thrusts. The warmth of strange new cocks filling me thrills me and I cum again and again. Sometimes it doesn’t work out and I leave their cars or rooms disappointed. But with most, it is everything I need and afterwards my body glows for hours. I go back to Armand’s ,feeling exuberant, vital, content, sure that for awhile I will want to be only with Armand and Hal.

But the glow goes away and I get restless again. Over several weeks I screw almost a dozen different men. It is a one time thing with each of them. I crave only the newness, the strangeness of their pricks pushing into .me and when it is over I go on to someone else.

One night I fuck a delivery man in the back of his truck. We knock over some sacks of groceries and a bag of oranges breaks and the oranges go rolling all about. Afterwards we peel some of them and eat them. He is young and his cock gets stiff again in a few minutes and we fuck a second time. Then we break open a bag of doughnuts and eat them until we are stuffed. Another night I pick up two sailors and we go back to their hotel room and drink warm beer. They get into a competition about me and try to exclude each other. Finally they almost get into a fight about it but I solve that by peeling off my clothes and pulling them both up close to me so that I can suck one’s cock while the other screws me.

The cock of the sailor fucking me is surprisingly small and doesn’t do me much good but the one I am eating is big and stiff so I take it easy while it is in my mouth to save his cuming for my cunt. It is worth it because when he screws me after the other sailor finishes, the tip of his prick pokes up all the way to the neck of my womb and I cum explosively over and over as he keeps fucking it into me.

We drink more beer afterwards and I think that the sex part of it is over but the sailor with the small cock gets a little drunk and insists that I ’suck him too so that he’ll be even up with his buddy. I’m not interested and try to hold him off but he keeps sticking his soft small cock in my face. Finally I get up and grab my purse and start to leave but he blocks my way. When I can’t get around him, I knee him hard in the groin and he hops away yelping. I hear the other sailor laughing as I hurry out the door. By the time I reach the elevator I can hear the sounds of the two of them scuffling and cursing at each other. I pick up another man at a bar down the street and come back to another room in the same hotel and spend the rest of the night with him.

I look sometimes for the man who lives in the room across from Armand’s. I watch for him to come out of the building. I look for him along the streets. But I never see him. Finally, one afternoon I spot him coming down Royal Street. After a few minutes conversation I realize that he isn’t the man from across the street after all. But I go to bed with him anyway. He fucks well and I forget my disappointment that he isn’t the man I’d first thought.

It goes on like that. I feel, I eat, I fuck.

Armand has sold three paintings today and is in an unusually good mood. He takes Hal and Lorraine and me out to dinner. We come back to the room and he pours wine all around. It is an expensive wine he says. We drink for awhile, then he asks me to dance. His body feels good up against mine. I haven’t been this close to him in days. He is a surprisingly good dancer and I enjoy gliding about the room with him. Lorraine and Hal sit on the mattress smoking a joint. Lorraine laughs as Armand and I almost lose our balance whirling about. Her laugh sounds coarse. I haven’t seen her since the day I first came here.

Armand tires of dancing and we sit down and he pours more wine. Hal and Lorraine are rolling about on the mattress laughing and feeling each other and gradually getting out of their clothes. They start screwing. Armand and I drink our wine and watch them. Lorraine still has on a black half-slip but nothing else. Hal is naked. I watch his prick drive in and out of the pink wet folds of her cunt.

“Shall we smoke a little grass?” I ask Armand.

He raises his eyebrows.

“You look surprised,” I say.

“It’s just that it’s the first time you’ve asked for it.

“I just feel like some … after the dinner and the wine and the dancing and all.”

He gets a joint from the shelf in the kitchen. He lights it and we pass it back and forth. I inhale deeper than usual, suck the smoke down into my lungs. “Mmm I can feel it already,” I say.

“That’s because you’ve had the wine too.”

“Maybe …” I say. I puff the cigarette again. Everything in the room seems to come precisely into focus. “… there, that’s enough. I feel just right now.” I hand the joint back to him. I pat him on the shoulder. “It was nice of you to take us out to dinner.”

“I sold three paintings.”

“It was nice anyway … the most pleasant evening I’ve had in a long time. Just don’t drink so much wine or take so much of the joint that you won’t want to screw me.”

He laughs. “No chance of that,” he says. “Shall we get down on the bed with them now?”

“Let’s wait until they finish.”"Do you like to watch them?”

“Mmm hmm, I guess so … don’t you?”

“In a way … yes. It primes me.”

“Like the wine and the grass?”

“Something like that.”

I laugh. “Are you primed now?” I reach over and feel his cock through his trousers. It is hard like iron. “Mmm, yes … want me to unzip you?”

He nods and puts his arm around my shoulder. I pull down his zipper, reach in, take hold of his thick cock. I play with his cock, making the wetness trickle out. I keep watching Hal and Lorraine fuck. My panties get sticky.

“Who do you like best?” Armand asks.

“… huh?”

“Which one of us? Hal or me I mean?”

“To fuck …? That’s not really a fair question.” I pump his prick. “If you want an honest answer though, I’d have to say I like it best when I have both of you at the same time.. Do you think that’s
strange?”

“No. It just happened that way with us, I think. Have you been with other men since you came here?”

“… you think I have?”

“Yes … when you go out. Haven’t you?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Many?”

“Quite a few. It never happens more than once with any of them though. I hope you’re not angry.”

“Why should I be?”

“I don’t know … I just hope you’re not. I get restless sometimes. And then I meet someone and it just seems to happen.”

“I know …”

“But you’re really not jealous or anything?”

“No … what good would that do? I’d rather have you to myself of course. Not with Hal either. But I don’t try to control anyone. You can’t do that.” His deep brown eyes look sad.

I don’t reply for a moment. I’m not sure what to say. “I don’t feel quite that way about it, I guess,” I say hesitantly. “I mean it’s good with you … the best. But I always seem, to want something else too. Someone new, strange, different. It all seems to keep building up in me until I see someone I think I want. It’s as if I keep looking for something but never quite find it. And when it isn’t strange and new with someone anymore, I always end up looking for someone else again. I don’t know why really … it just happens. I can’t seem to help it. You think there’s something wrong with that?”

“Everyone is different.”

“But what do you think about me? Do you oh, I’m getting too serious talking like this, why don’t we just fuck?”

Armand laughs. “If my cock is still new enough for you …”

“I like your cock.” I say. “Really better than any of the others. Just not better than all of them. Oh I don’t know what I’m talking about. Come on, screw me. Let’s not talk about it. Here … let’s do it right here on the chair.”

“With you on top?”

“Mmm hmm … come on … let’s start it.”

“Are you going to fuck Hal later?”

“Probably. I think so. Someone at least. But let’s not think about that now. Come on, I’m all juicy inside waiting for you. Let’s get your pants off first. I like to have all of your skin bare against me. I’ll undress too. I like it best when I’m naked with you. You can feel my breasts then, touch me everywhere. You look so good to me with your cock sticking up there waiting.”

I get out of my dress and under things and crawl over him. I place my knees between the outside of his thighs and the arms of the big overstuffed chair. We sink down low because of the broken spring. I grasp his prick tight in my hand and rub the big head of it against the outside of my cunt lips. He plays with my breasts, does wonderful things to them with his fingers.

I keep teasing myself for a minute by not putting his cock all the way into me, then suddenly push down hard against him, feel him poke deep up into my cunt.

We fuck. I ride his prick hungrily for a minute, making it move rapidly in and out. Then I slow my strokes and savor the feeling of the hardness of him rubbing on the walls of my cunt. I cum. I like to fuck this way. To ride a prick. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me.”

Chapter 10

I walk the streets. Rampart Street. Bourbon Street. Toulouse. The night grows dark. I walk in the glow of neon. Pitchmen stand in front of strip joints trying to coax people in. Music blares out from behind the open doors. The crowds keep pushing by me. I don’t see any men who interest me. I think about the handsome black waiter, but the seafood house is blocks away. I decide to stop somewhere for a drink and rest my feet. And maybe go later to the seafood place.

I see the bar where I first met Armand and go down the half flight of steps and inside. It is more crowded than the first time I was there. Most of the customers look high. The music from the back room is loud and hurts my ears.

I am surprised to see Lorraine sitting alone at a table in the corner. She waves for me to come over. The waiter brings us a drink. We chat about nothing in particular. I don’t really know her very well. I’ve only seen her a few times at Armand’s. Our knees bump beneath the table. Her leg seems to linger against mine. I am surprised when a man suddenly comes over and sits down next to her a boy really. I’d thought she was by herself. I feel left out of it as he nuzzles up to her and begins planting kisses against her cheek and neck. I am about ready to leave when Lorraine’s friend excuses himself and gets up and walks through the bar to the room in back.

Lorraine laughs. “He goes back there every few minutes to take a look at the strippers,” she says. “I think he –”She interrupts herself. “Shall I get rid of him?” she asks. She stares at me, her eyes intense.

I don’t know quite what to make of her question but I say yes. She keeps looking into my eyes until I have to turn away.

The young man comes back. He sits down and starts drinking his beer.

“How are the girls doing?” Lorraine asks sarcastically.

“… girls?”

“The ones in the back room. The dancers. The ones you go running back every few minutes to see? Do they reach out and grab your prick? Shall I …?” I see her hand reach beneath the table. “… like this?” Her eyes tease him. I can tell that she is working at his zipper. He looks bewildered.

I hear the zipper slide open. I can tell when she grabs his cock by his sudden wide-eyed look. I see her arm start to pump. Her date or whoever he is doesn’t seem to know what to make of it. He looks as if he wants her to stop but can’t help letting her go ahead. We are in a dark corner of the room and I don’t think anyone else notices.
The boy leans forward, grips the table as she pumps him. His eyes are glazed, his lips drawn taut and thin. I can’t help glancing beneath the table. I see that his prick is all the way out. It is huge and erect. It looks very swollen above the dark material of his trousers. Lorraine’s hand is working at it furiously. But when I look above the table again, ,the upper half of her body and her face are relaxed and innocent looking.

She keeps taunting him as she jerks him off. Her voice is barely a whisper. A coarse whisper. “Does my hand feel good on your prick? Do I rub it as well as the strippers? You have such a nice big hard one. You should let everyone have a turn feeling it. Maybe Carrie would like to. Oh well, more chance for me then. Nice, juicy, big prick. Mmm it’s going to feel nice when your warm cum shoots all over my hand. Let it go, big boy. Don’t hold back. Fuck my hand. My hand is a cunt … fuck it.”

He doesn’t last long. I can tell when he starts spurting. His face gets very red. His body tenses. For a moment I can only see the whites of his eyes. Then the color leaves his face. He turns ashen. He slumps forward over the table.

Lorraine withdraws her hand. I can see her wiping it methodically on the leg of his trousers. “Well, that takes care of you, big boy. You. won’t be needing me for anything else tonight, will you? Why don’t you go watch the girls in the back room again?” she taunts. “Maybe if you look long enough you’ll be able to get your cock hard again.”

Lorraine laughs and keeps laughing as he gets up and stumbles away from the table, trying to cover the big wet spots on his trousers with his hands. He hurries into the men’s room. Lorraine turns to me. She is still laughing. “How do you like that for getting rid of a creep with a dozen easy strokes?”

“Wasn’t it rather cruel?” I can’t help saying.

“Cruel …? He got his rocks off. That’s all he wanted. That’s all any of them want.” She leans toward me. Her elbow presses against mine. “I’d just as soon leave here … why don’t we go to my place? Have a drink there. Okay?”

I nod. “All right.”

“First I’ve got to go wash off my hands. He must have shot out a gallon of the stuff. Be back in a minute.”

I watch her walk across the carpet to the ladies’ room. She has a sexy figure and the men at some of the tables turn to stare at her as she goes by I don’t enjoy it much being with her. She is too harsh. I don’t really want to go with her now but I feel committed.

The decor of Lorraine’s apartment startles me when we go in. The furniture is mod and there are lots of clashing colors. There are all sorts of gadgets scattered about, and mobiles hanging from the ceiling begin to move as she turned on the rather dim lights. A tall, thin totem pole with a dozen eyes seems to leer at me as the eyes keep opening shutting. There is a barber’s pole with stripes of many colors that goes slowly around and around. A stereo comes on and plays dissonant music.

I stare at the mobile in the center of the room, watching the balancing bodies of naked men and women more slowly about. The woman’s breasts are huge, their cunts gaping. The men’s cock jut out almost grotesquely. The walls of the room are covered with large posters, most of them sexual. Naked women. Naked men. Feeling each other. Fucking each other. Two of the women are eating each other. I see two yellowish posters with the naked man in one reaching across the wall to rub the widespread cunt lips of the woman in the other.

“… like it?” Lorraine asks.

I laugh tightly. “Which …?”

“All of it?”

“… it’s interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I wanted to have an apartment that was something special. Something I could show off to my friends. And it gives me a kick when I feel down. This one over here is my favorite …”

She is pointing to a sculpture in the corner of the room but it is too dark to see it clearly. I step closer. Then suddenly a spotlight comes on and shines on it. There are three figures. At the base of the sculpture a woman sits with her hair fanned back over her shoulders. She is leaning back slightly, supporting herself on her hands. Next to her stands a man. The tip of his erect penis is only an inch or so from her mouth which is turned toward him. Between the woman’s legs kneels another woman, her head bent just above the first woman’s cunt. The whole thing is done in some kind of greyish clay like material but it lights up in brilliant changing colors as the revolving spotlight shines on it.

“Watch this,” says Lorraine. She presses a button at the base of the sculpture. I hear a whirring noise. The woman sits up a little more and the cock of the man standing enters her mouth. The two figures move back and forth as she sucks him. The kneeling woman bends forward farther and starts eating the first woman’s cunt. The figures are each about eighteen inches high. They look very strange moving under the colored lights. I stare at them. The music from the stereo plays.

“That’s me on the bottom,” Lorraine laughs. “I’ve got both of the others just as I like them.” She gestures about the room. “Everyone says it’s weird but they’re all crazy to come here to turn on. Shall we have a drink? Or smoke a joint?”

I don’t want any grass. The odd room affects me strangely but I have no interest in turning on with Lorraine. “A drink would be fine,” I say. “Bourbon maybe …”

“I’ll get it. You look around at everything. Tell me what you like best.”
We sit opposite each other on sections of a big green circular davenport. Lorraine crosses her legs so that her skirt hikes up her thighs almost to her pussy. She drinks her drink slowly, all the time looking at me. I start to feel uncomfortable being alone with her.

She must. read my mind. She asks if I’d mind if she invited over a couple of her friends. “They live in this building,” she says. “On the next floor up. They’re very nice.”

“… sounds fine to me,” I say.

She makes a phone call and in a few minutes there is a knock at the door. Lorraine goes to open it. I am surprised that her friends are women. And disappointed. The first to enter is a rather nondescript blond. She vaguely resembles Lorraine but is not nearly as pretty. The other is a tall striking willowy girl with lovely features and flaming auburn hair. Lorraine introduces us all around. The tall girl’s name is Rae. I don’t catch the name of the blond.

We all sit down. Rae sits next to Lorraine. I am with the blond. I find this arrangement vaguely irritating. We exchange small talk about this and that. I gaze across at Rae. She crosses her legs. She isn’t wearing stockings.

Lorraine laughingly tells about jerking off the boy at the bar.

The blond laughs coarsely with her.

Rae only smiles.

I don’t laugh or smile at all. I find myself staring at one of the nude posters on the wall. The strong smell of the blond’s perfume annoys me.

“Let’s pass a joint,” Lorraine says. She goes to another room and comes back with one.

“Aren’t we going to change first… ?” the blond says. She turns to me. “Lory has these way out costumes. Have you seen them?

I shake my head.

“I’m comfortable this way,” Rae says. “Let’s just stay dressed as we are.”

“Okay … whatever you say,” Lorraine says.

The blond sulks a little. I wish she wasn’t sitting next to me. I wish I was next to Rae. I try to keep from staring but my eyes keep going back to her. She has unusually smooth beautiful skin.

Lorraine lights the joint, takes one deep puff and gives it to Rae. Rae holds it for a moment, watching the smoke rise. She brings the cigarette slowly to her lips. They part, pink and moist. She puffs lightly, exhales in a natural easy breath. She brings the cigarette over to me. Her legs are slender and tan under a light blue skirt.

She hands me the joint. Our fingertips brush. I feel a strange tingling inside me. Rae smiles. “It’s strong,” she cautions. “Take just one puff.” Her voice is even, smooth.

I smile back. “Thank you,” I say. I puff the joint just once as she suggested. I realize suddenly that Rae is sitting next to me now. She has done it so smoothly I hadn’t even noticed. I hand the cigarette to the blond. She sucks