A Taste Of It

by Karla Francis

  Drained, Blackburn collapsed, his body seeming to sink in upon itself; to become an empty sack of skin. It felt as though her greedy lips had milked him of far more than a mere seminal load; as if she had sucked out his blood and his bones and even his brains in that electrifying and prolonged orgasm.

  "Enough," he groaned.

  But the come-starved redhead refused to relent. Her lips worked away as firmly as ever and her head continued to rise and fall as she milked the final sluggish drops from his stalk and then continued to slurp avariciously on the hollowed and diminishing tube. Only when his cock had shriveled to a mere nubbin did she release him, letting the reduced knob slip from her lips with a final loving suck.

  Blackburn was panting.

  "Oh, that was lovely," she purred, licking her lips. Finding a few drops of errant cream which had avoided her mouth, she licked them up.

  "Yes," he croaked.

  "No wonder Janie sucks Trevor off. Dirty bitch that she is. I'm sure glad I discovered how much fun it is, though. Who'd have ever imagined?"

  She was looking at him with gleaming eyes.

  "It sure makes a girl hot, though. Cocksucking. My pussy is smoking."

  "Oh no. I'm exhausted," he protested.

  Grasping his penis, she hauled and tugged at it, frowning with disappointment when she realized that there was no energy left in the shrunken bud.

  "Maybe if I suck it, it will get hard again, huh?"

  "No, no, no," he croaked.

  "Well, maybe not. But it can't hurt to try, huh?"

  "Please..."

  But she had fallen upon him already, stuffing the tiny and stunned member into her mouth and eagerly slurping on the wasted, soft flesh.

  Then the phone rang.

  James Blackburn was very glad to be interrupted.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "I better answer it. Might be important," he said, swinging his legs under her crouching form, knees brushing her dangling titties. But she was reluctant to release his dick. When he stood up, she rose to her knees, his cock still clamped in her lips. He tried to back away, but she had a firm grip on his balls with both hands and he could do no more than retreat, walking backwards, while she followed him, on her knees, across the room. Coming at last to the telephone, he sat on the edge of the table and she remained kneeling before him, sucking doggedly.

  "Hello?" he said.

  Slurp, slurp, mouthed Susan upon his tormented and unresponsive dick.

  "James?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Marla. Marla Collins."

  "Who? Marla. Why, hello. How are you?"

  "Fine. Well, not so fine, really. I have a problem. But, at the moment, I'm feeling very well."

  She giggled.

  "What's that? It's hard to hear you, Marla. There seems to be a buzzing on the line."

  "Oh, that's my electric toothbrush," she explained.

  "What?"

  "Come on, damn it. Get hard again," Susan said to his cowering cock.

  "My toothbrush. I was using it and I didn't know if you'd be home yet so I didn't see any point in turning it off in case there was no answer and now it feels sort of nice so I thought I might as well keep on brushing while we talked."

  "How can you talk while you're brushing your teeth?" he asked, confused.

  "I'm not going to brush my teeth all week," Susan said. "I want to keep that lovely, yummy taste of cum in my mouth as long as possible..."

  "Oh, I'll explain later," Marla said. "But this really is a dreadful connection, James. I seem to hear a sort of slurping sound at your end."

  "End is the operative word."

  "What?"

  "I, too, shall explain in due course. It's all rather hard to describe."

  "It isn't the slightest bit hard, if you want to know, and I think it's disgusting to let a girl get all worked up sucking you off and then refuse to give her a nice fuck," Susan interjected, licking despondently at his dick.

  "Later," he told Susan.

  "Yes, we'll both explain later," Marla said. "But, James, I'm afraid I'm in a bit of trouble. I wonder if you could possibly come over?"

  "Certainly," Blackburn said, seeing a plausible reason to escape the clutches of this wronged wife.

  "Right away?"

  "Sure. Fifteen minutes."

  "Oh, thank you, James. I knew I could depend on you. I'm afraid I've got myself into the most dreadful sort of mess."

  "I'm on my way," he said.

  He replaced the receiver.

  "I'm afraid I have to go out for awhile, Susan," he said. "I'll be back soon. I'm sure I'll have recovered my sexual prowess by the time I return."

  "Out? Go out?" You mean you're simply going to leave me here, all alone? Why, you're no better than that wretched Trevor. Oh, sure, you'll come back later, when you feel like some, but whatever am I to do in the meantime? I'm hot now, I don't want to wait."

  She looked up at his face, her countenance half angry and half hopeful, her hands on her hips. But his enfeebled organ dangled uselessly between them, like a divining rod pointing at the ground where fluid, no doubt, existed, but had to be dug for.

  "Can't you... you know... sort of rub yourself off or something?"

  "Don't be disgusting."

  She stood up, resigned at last to the fact that no amount of sucking was going to bring his member back to a pre-climatic condition. She folded her arms haughtily across her breasts and tossed her head in annoyance. Blackburn shrugged helplessly. Then she seemed to relent, saying, "well, if you aren't man enough to satisfy a girl, I guess it isn't your fault. I mean, I can't very well blame you. It isn't as if you were deliberately holding out or lying to me. No man would lie about being impotent, I can see that, so you must be telling the truth."

  "I'm glad you're so understanding," said Blackburn, not without sarcasm. But sarcasm was lost on Susan.

  "Oh, that's okay," she said.

  "I'll show you where the bedroom is and you can try to sleep until I get back.

  "Bedroom? is there only one bedroom?"

  "Well, how many did you want?"

  "Yeah, but where did you expect me to sleep? Before you knew I wanted to get even with my husband, I mean. When you met me in the pub. Surely you didn't think I was the sort of girl who would sleep with you just because I didn't have anywhere else to go?"

  "Certainly not. I intended to sleep on the couch."

  "Oh. That's all right then, as long as you didn't get the wrong idea about me. I'd sure hate to have anyone think I was loose moralled, because I would certainly never do anything naughty with a man unless I had to in order to get even with that bastard Trevor, sod that he is."

  "Quite." said Blackburn.

  He showed her down the corridor to the bedroom. She left her clothing in the front room, scattered at random on the floor beside the couch. Blackburn's bed was a huge affair and, seeing it, Susan felt a renewed sense of deprivation. She cast a wistful glance at his organ and sighed.

  "You won't be too long, huh?"

  "I'll return as soon as possible."

  She nodded and flopped down on the bed, legs widespread. Her position was interesting and Blackburn felt a tremor in his well-sucked dick. For an instant he contemplated joining her and giving it another try, but then he decided it would be better to wait; that he'd enjoy it more after a rest. He turned away so that the greedy girl wouldn't see the potential hardening of his organ.

  Susan had both hands comfortably cupped over her flaming bush.

  "I'll just rub it a little to keep it on the simmer," she explained. "I don't want you to think I'm the sort of girl who masturbates or anything nasty like that, but I guess it's okay just to rub it enough to keep it warm."

  Blackburn agreed that was a fine idea. As he left the room, he couldn't help but notice that she was rubbing away furiously with both hands, her cunt squishing and squelching, but, being a charitable sort of fellow, he was willing to believe that her pussy needed a considerable amount of friction
to keep it from cooling off. In the front room, putting his trousers on, he heard her softly moaning and, smiling, decided that she must be making the sound through frustration and impatience, rather than rising sensations. He left and hailed a taxi to Marla Collin's home.

  "Oh, thank you for coming, James," Marla said, meeting him at the front door. She was wearing a dressing gown of some sheer silky material which was just on the borderline of transparency. It hinted at the softly curving flesh to which it clung, without really revealing it. She took him into the luxurious living room and gave him a drink; sat down opposite him. He saw, admiringly, an expanse of thigh.

  "Well, what is this trouble?" he asked.

  "I hardly know how to start."

  He shrugged.

  "Oh, before I begin explaining, I wanted to ask you something, have you ever heard of a woman masturbating with an electric toothbrush?"

  Blackburn blinked.

  "Certainly," he said. "Electric toothbrushes replaced vibrators, which replaced hair dryers. Why do you ask?"

  She giggled girlishly.

  "Oh, I wondered if I'd created a new method."

  "Ah, the buzzing on the phone?"

  "Precisely."

  "Most girls, I might add, keep a separate brush for their teeth."

  "Oh? Well, that's all right. I didn't use my own, I used Geoffrey's"

  "Quite."

  "Christ, I don't know why I told you about that, James. I seem to be in the most depraved mood this evening."

  "Well," he said, wondering if this trouble she'd mentioned was no more than frustration; if she'd summoned him here to satisfy some carnal urge.

  He'd known Marla before she married Geoffrey and had, several times, bedded her, but there had been no coupling since her wedding.

  "Anyway, this depraved mood has landed me in a mess," she said. She sipped her drink, eyeing him across the rim of the glass. "Geoffrey is in France, you see, and I was rather bored so I went out and, well, not to make a long story of it, I let a man pick me up in a hotel bar. I... I hope you won't be castigating or a moralist or anything absurd like that?"

  "Not at all."

  "I thought not. Anyway, I might as well tell you, I've cheated on Geoffrey before, but only a few times and only with men I knew well. Men I'd known before I was married." She paused, then said, "Like yourself."

  He nodded.

  "They were always discreet and civilized affairs, almost casual, no harm done. This man tonight was the first stranger I ever allowed, you know... Well, anyway, he took me to a wretched sort of doss house in Earl's Court. He made love to me. At the critical moment, the door burst open and two men charged in with a camera. They took pictures, James. Very incriminating pictures."

  "Good Lord."

  "As soon as they had taken the photos, several, I'm not sure how many... I was so shocked that I wasn't very perceptive... as soon as they had taken the photos, they left. I have no idea who they were or why they wanted the pictures." She looked at Blackburn, expecting him to speak.

  He said, "the man you were with. Did he know they were going to burst in?"

  "He claims not. I'm not sure."

  "Could Geoffrey have hired a private detective to get ground for divorce?"

  "No. No, I'm sure it wasn't that. Geoffrey suspects nothing. Why should He? As I said, the few affairs I've had have been ultra discreet, and this was the first time I'd been with a strange man."

  "Then why?"

  "Blackmail? That's the only thing I can think of."

  "But they must have known you, then, even if you didn't know them."

  "Well, the photographer was thin and had long brown hair and a very disreputable sort of coat. The other man was big and brawny and had sort of ginger colored hair and a broken nose and looked utterly depraved."

  "How about the other fellow, the man you were with?"

  "Oh, good looking, black eyebrows... he said his name was Gibbs, Bill Gibbs."

  Blackburn's eyebrows went up.

  "Why, I know Gibbs," he said. "What hotel did he take you to?"

  "Oh, something Court, I can't remember."

  "I know the one. Gibbs lives there, in fact, so at least we have a starting point. I can go there and have a word with him. But if he really is innocent, I don't know what we can do but wait until they get in touch with you.

  She nodded.

  "I'll go see Gibbs now, in fact."

  "I really appreciate this. If Geoffrey ever found out about this... or actually saw those photos! Oh dear, it would be a frightful scene. If it's blackmail, I'm willing to pay any reasonable amount. But what frightens me is that it might have been done by someone who has it in for me, some enemy, and that they intend to show Geoffrey the pictures regardless."

  "I'll see what I can do."

  "James, I feel I will really owe you a favour if you can help me out of this mess."

  "Not at all."

  A strange look came into her eyes.

  "Oh, yes. I will. In fact, perhaps I ought to give you a sort of retainer... before you go..."

  "What?"

  "Oh, don't be naive, James." She was smiling. "I told you I felt depraved this evening."

  She stood up. Her dressing gown flowed and billowed, touching her in likely and comely places, breasts and belly and hip. Then she stepped out of the gown and it fluttered soundlessly to the floor and she was standing there stark naked, smiling.

  "A toothbrush is all right, really, but it isn't like the real thing, you know."

  "I... I... I hate to deceive Geoffrey..."

  "But he's in Paris, darling, and will never know and if it isn't you it will be someone else and what difference does it make?"

  "I see," said Blackburn, "your point."

  Blackburn stood up, facing her, and she moved closer, drifting there rather than walking. She kept her eyes fixed on is face and the smile fixed on her mouth as she slid his necktie down; unbuttoned his shirt. She said, as if in explanation, "I think it's the thought, the idea, of those photographs that has made me so... randy. Is that the word? Yes, randy." her nimble fingers fumbled at his belt. "If you manage to find those pictures, James, don't you destroy them until I've had a chance to look at them, all right?"

  "What ever you say," he croaked.

  His trousers dropped. He stepped out of them and she drew his briefs down without lowering her gaze. He stepped out of trousers and underwear together, holding the garments under one foot as he pulled the other free, then reversing the process. Then he shrugged out of jacket and shirt, the loose necktie still folded under his collar, and let them drop to the floor behind him.

  They were both naked now, face to face, their eyes still engaged.

  Her hands ran lightly over his flanks, then moved in and folded around his cock. For a moment he feared he'd not yet recovered from Susan's ministrations, but as soon as she stroked his organ that member began to rise, through a series of short, sharp jolts, to full erection. A change is as good as a rest, he thought, as the blunt tip of his interested member brushed against her navel.

  "The bedroom?" he queried.

  "Yes. No! No, let's do it right where we are. Let's do it standing here."

  She was a tall girl and Blackburn nodded, foreseeing no difficulties of angle and elevation. When she moved in, pressing against him, naked length to naked length, he had to lower his head only slightly in order to kiss her. Her mouth was greedy under his, demanding and fiery, and he saw that no preliminary play was necessary to arouse her; that she was already fully prepared for sex, despite, or perhaps because of, her toothbrush and her previous affair of the evening. She was much too good for Bill Gibbs, he thought, peripherally, an objective thought with no overtones of jealousy. Probably too good for Geoffrey, too, he mentally added, but that seemed rather an uncharitable thought in the circumstances. Geoffrey was a friend and a nice fellow and all that, but still, some things simply couldn't be helped.

  His dick lay long up her torso, indenting her firm flesh f
rom mound of Venus to breastbone and, wriggling delightfully, she rolled her belly over his rod. They kissed only the once, then she came up onto her toes, one hand on his shoulder for support, the other on his cock for accuracy. She pushed the stiff stalk down to the horizontal and Blackburn let his tense thighs relax; bent his knees and lowered his loins to a level beneath hers.