“But then I’d be masturbating to a film of myself mas-turbating.”
“Exactly, and you’ll enjoy it, too. Don’t miss this opportunity to get serious with your entire cunt. It wants your attention.”
“That’s true,” she said.
Dave angled out his Malcolm Gladwell.
“Ooh, you’ve got it out again,” she said. “Can I hold it for a second, just the head of it? Oof.”
He leaned back. “I don’t want to come right yet, though. But, oh gosh, you’re so so pretty up on the twelvemo screen. Look at that, you’re so lusciously nasty with yourself. This is fantastic.” In her movie, Chilli was holding her legs open with her elbows, and she was gripping one hand with the other and stuffing three fingers inside herself.
“I am getting down and dirty, aren’t I?”
“And your eyes, look at your eyes, look at that fucky sex blur in your eyes.”
“This is where I came, I think,” she said. “Yep, that’s how I come.”
“You are ridiculously hot, wait, don’t move your hand on my cock, don’t move even a quarter of an inch or I’ll spunk ham juice out everywhere, oh, oh, so close, let it work its way down—Zen, Zen, whooooooooo.”
“But I want you to come.”
“Not here,” said Dave. “I’ve seen too much porn. I need to escape. I need nature. I want to come in your field with your pussy shoved in my face.”
“I can’t do that,” said Chilli.
“No? Under the clouds in the sex field?”
“Well, okay,” she said. “Briefly.”
“Goody, just press stop on your handrest there.”
The tandem chair lowered to the staging area, and they walked out.
“I’ll get the blanket,” said Dave.
“Hurry, because I’m here leaking right down my leg,” said Chilli.
She and Dave had a breathless run—it felt like an escape—out of House of Holes territory and on through the briars and the bushes to the sex field.
“We can go back close to where you were yesterday,” Chilli said, “but a little ways back. It’s private.”
Dave spread out the blanket over what Chilli noticed was an old dry hole in the ground. Probably a mole hole, she thought. Then she thought, Hmmm. She sat splaylegged on the blanket, and Dave brought out his massive, porn-maddened spunk-spewer. “Let me just stare at it,” she said.
Very lightly and respectfully she touched it, as if less pressure made for less of a marital infraction.
“Can I fuck you right here on this blanket?” asked Dave.
“No, you absolutely cannot fuck me, no,” she said. “But you can fuck my field. Stuff a bit of the blanket down that mole hole and then put your big cock in it. I want to watch your assbuns clench. Drive your cock into my field. Root yourself. I need to show you my whole pussy now. You want to see it?”
She scooted so that Dave’s face, when he arched his neck up, was inches from her cuntgash. He listened to the luscious squelching at close range as she pulled the folds away from her clit. He closed and opened his eyes, and each time he opened them her succulent stovetop filled his vision, being stretched one way and another by her questing and well-practiced fingers. Supporting himself on his one arm, he guided his dick into the prickly wool of the blanket. He sank in deep. “I’m fucking the hole,” Dave said, and he saw her gaze travel to his assclenching maximus cheeks.
She said, “Here’s all of me, Dave, nurse on my big clit so I can come.” He smelled her radiating vadge, and then, opening his soft lips, he slopped and slobbered his whole face into her pussy. He rolled his eyes up to look at her. Her head was thrown back. She was feeling good. He smiled into her pussy and then took a breath. “Look up at these great clouds,” he said, “while I suck your pussy and fuck the planet earth.”
Chilli breathed. “I love this,” she said. She looked down at Dave’s mouth at her lettuce patch and watched his tongue do its wonderful work. “Edge us as close as you can, loverman.”
Dave said, “Gluddle-luddle-luddle-luddle-luddle-luddle-luddle, mmmm.”
“Take it out of the earth and milk your huge cock off for me. I want to see it. Please milk it off.”
Dave pulled out of the crumbling earth hole and knelt close to her. “Here you go, sweet woman,” he said. “Haaahh!” Five days’ worth of sperm flowered out all over her stomach and breasts.
“Now me,” Chilli said. “Jab that wicked tongue back inside me—that’s the way.” She held his head and moved her cuntal hand in slow connoisseurial ovals, and then, making her fingers rigid, she DJ’d herself, as if her clit was a scratch record. “Nnnnn, nnnn,” she said, frowning down at her frigging self. Her hips lifted off the blanket. “Oh, that’s good! Oh, shit, Dave, I’m a pornstar! Oh, juice it, juice it, I’M COMING!”
Ned Undergoes a Voluntary Head Detachment
Ned the golfer had incurred terrible debts at the House of Holes, and he was called into the main office. “Let’s see your body, please,” said Lila.
Ned removed his shirt and pants.
“Very nice,” she said. “And the underpants, please.”
He stepped out of them with a smile, his jig swaying.
She looked at him for a long time, tapping a pen on the arm of her chair.
“Your body is adorable,” she said.
“My face is not so good, though,” he said. “Is that what you mean?”
“It’s a perfectly nice face. You mean well, you’re a nice man, but you don’t have that smoldering puffy-lipped look that a lot of women like.”
“I know. So what on earth do I do?”
“I would say that for you, with that body, the fastest way for you to pay off your debts is with the voluntary head detachment.”
“What’s that? I’d like to try it.”
“Think about it carefully. Your head will be removed and put on a wheeled pedestal. Kathy will roll you around and change your plasma bags and be sure that your electricals are all shipshape.”
“And my body?”
“Your body will go into one of the six headless rooms.”
“Okay, and what happens in there?”
“Your body and a woman will get to know each other.”
“How? My body won’t have a head.”
“No, it won’t. These are women who don’t want you to have a head.”
“Oh, I see, okay.”
“And your body will have a simple form of consciousness.”
“How?”
“We put a cap at the top of your spinal cord, and we redirect your nervous system. Your body will be able to think, in a very limited way, with your spine, penis, and balls. Your ass will serve as a neuronal proxy as well.”
“I see. Makes sense. Well, let’s do it.”
Ned took a pill and was able to remain conscious through the detachment procedure. He felt a faint tugging once or twice and then a powerful wave of vertigo. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he was detached and positioned on the wheeled pedestal, his head strapped in a comfortable head-rig.
His body sat about ten feet away from him, in a chair. Where his head had been there was a low dome covered in artificial skin. Kathy, his pedestal pusher, was dressing his body, helping it to learn how to move with its limited neural resources. She rubbed the body’s arms, and it stood. She patted them. “Good bodyboy,” she said.
She tied a conservative tie around his body’s neck and then planted his body’s hands on her shoulders. She touched his leg, pulling, indicating that he should raise his leg, which he did. She held some khaki pants out for him, and the leg slid them on. Ned noticed that his body’s penis was unusually tumescent. This seemed not to trouble Kathy. She grasped his zipper, stuffed his equipment into place, and zipped him neatly up. Then she slipped a tweed jacket on him. “There we go,” she said. She turned to Ned’s head. “What do you think of your body?” she said. “Cleans up pretty nice, eh?”
“Kind of strange,” he said. “But I guess you ge
t used to it.”
“Oh, sure,” said Kathy. “I used to work on a dairy farm. You just have to be patient and gentle, and sometimes they get excited. It’s just a whole other way of being. It’s very—bodily.”
“What happens to me?” Ned the head asked.
“My sister Cora, the headmistress, will take care of you for a while.”
Cora came in and put his head in a bowling bag. She carried him away.
Reese Visits a Headless Bedroom
“I want something where the man’s not always judging me and criticizing me and disapproving of how I dress and all that,” said the ethereal flaxen-haired girl, Reese, to Lila, in Lila’s office. “I guess I want a good-looking man for a fun brainless time in the sack.”
“Well,” said Lila, “we do offer the headless bedrooms.”
“What are they?”
“You choose a good-looking body whose head has been temporarily removed.”
“That’s horrible!” said Reese.
“Surprisingly it’s not, really. What you get is a nice friendly extremely handsome male body that is very responsive to any stimulation because it can’t hear or see or speak or think except with what it has, which is its spine and crotch.”
“I see, I see.”
“You and the handsome headless body are together in a furnished room for fifteen minutes, half an hour, or even a full hour.”
“Where’s the head during all this?”
“You never see the head. The head is safe in the headroom. Cora is the headmistress, she takes care of eight heads. We’ll put them all back on later.”
“And the heads have agreed to this?”
“Yep.”
“And the body can move and all that?”
“Yes, although some fine motor skills are not there. On the wall you’ll see some how-to posters that Kathy has made. They’ll help you handle these bodyboys, as we call them.”
“Let’s do it.”
Daggett led Reese into a room where there were eight headless men sitting on couches. They were wearing long Japanese-style bathrobes. Kathy smiled at Reese and offered her a seat in a comfortable chair. Then she touched each bodyboy, helping it stand and walk in front of Reese and then open its robe, showing off its chest and underpants. “I can have him pull down his underpants, if you’d like,” said Kathy. “He doesn’t mind.”
“Well, I’d kind of like to see his butt, if you’d have him turn around.”
Kathy guided him around and held his robe to one side. Reese nodded. “Very nice.”
She was disappointed, though. He was an extreme body-builder type with a tanning-bed tan and pectoral muscles that looked sort of like breasts except hard. She said, in a low voice, “Um, do you have any men who are more, you know, guy-next-doorish? Fit but not like a male stripper?”
Kathy smiled. “Ah, yes, there are a few. The first is Lonny, who when he had his head hung gutters for a living. Here he is.”
Kathy helped Lonny-body stand. Reese feasted her eyes on a headless man with a set of callused hands and a wiry strong build that had come about by work and not by working out.
“Then there’s Bosco,” said Kathy. “Bosco is a painter.”
“Hm, nice, trim, but too old,” said Reese.
“And then there’s Ned,” Kathy said. “He’s my favorite. Come on, Ned.” She cooed at him, gently nudging his arm so that he would stand. “Look at this,” she said. She pinched his nipple, and his arm flapped her hand away. “Ned doesn’t like that, see? He’s got a lot of personality left in his body. He knows how to move. Watch.” She stood behind him and put her hands on his hips, and Ned’s body swayed, his robe flapping.
Reese felt a sudden throb, which she masked perfectly. “They’re all very nice,” she said, “but I agree with you that this one is the most normal. If anyone can be normal when he’s missing his head.”
“I know what you mean. Just remember that even though he has been freed of his head, he still is going to have some feelings. Treat him well, and he’ll treat you well.”
“What do I call him?” Reese asked.
“Well, he can’t hear, but it helps to have a name. His head’s name is Ned, so call him Nedbody.”
Reese walked up to Nedbody and took his hand. He seemed to sense that she was a different person from Kathy. When she lifted his hand, he didn’t resist, but followed her movements.
Kathy showed her that two fingers gently squeezing his arm muscle meant “good.”
The room was large and sparely furnished. Kathy explained that furniture had to be kept to a minimum because Nedbody was blind, of course. Then she left.
There were some grapes in the corner, and Reese looked at them wistfully, thinking that she could eat them but Nedbody couldn’t. She ate a grape, and then, feeling a little shy, sat down next to him on a couch and put her head on his shoulder. She inspected the low mound of his neck. It was surprisingly easy to get used to his headlessness. If you hadn’t known what human beings looked like you would simply assume that this was the way they were.
She tweaked his nipple, as Kathy had done, and his hand brushed her away. That was good—it was a sign of his having preferences. She wanted to know what Nedbody wanted and what he didn’t want. “I think I want you to have no clothes on,” she said to him. She pulled, and he got up, and she slipped the robe off and slipped his underpants off, and he almost lost his balance getting out of them, but she held his arm to steady him. Then she walked him over to the bed and stood behind him. His butt was his best feature, it was quite amazing—two strong bouncy male musclecakes covered in a furze of hair. She helped him bend forward, and, showing him how to place his hands, she urged him to lie on his stomach on the bed. He did so, his legs hanging out over the floor. She wanted to look at everything about him. She punched lightly at his ass cheeks, and then she looked at the back part of his balls for a while. Then she lifted the phone. Kathy answered. “Kathy,” she said, “I don’t think I can do this. I really need him to have a head.”
Kathy came back in. “I’m so sorry, Reese, his head is unavailable.” She said. “You have to make do. But have a look at this body.” She pointed to him facedown on the bed. He was sleeping. He seemed to drop off easily. A slight sound of breathing escaped from his neckhole.
“Can you at least give me some pointers?”
“Sure,” Kathy said. “He likes to be massaged. The seat of his intelligence is his lower back, so I massage there first to get his attention. It’s like getting eye contact.” She parted his legs and stood between them, squeezing her thumbs into his back. He stirred slightly in his sleep.
“Another thing is he likes you to tickle just behind his knees. Watch.” She tickled, and Nedbody’s legs jumped. She tickled again.
Reese noticed that now Nedbody’s hips were grinding into the bed. She turned to Kathy. “He seems to be getting into the bed action there.”
“That’s what he does, poor guy,” said Kathy. “Anytime you put any pressure on his genitals, he dry humps you.”
“Oh,” said Reese. “Well, I can live with that.”
“I’m going to leave you now,” said Kathy. “It’s a little traumatic for me because I take care of him. I can’t help it. Sometimes I feel jealousy. But I want him to have as good a time as he can have, and I have to do an oil change on three of the other guys.”
“What’s an oil change?”
“All the bodily necessities—we have to flush them out every other day to keep them healthy.”
“This is pretty impressive but pretty nutty,” Reese said.
“I can get used to anything,” said Kathy. “They’re nice men.” She paused just before she closed the door. “I can tell from the way he’s humping the bed that he’s got a big hard-on,” she said. “Turn him on his side, and you’ll have a nice present.”
She closed the door.
Reese sat next to Nedbody for a moment, looking at the smooth muscular expanse of his back. His arms were flung wide. She s
melled his underarms, which though Kathy had washed him had a whiff of man scent. She pulled on the hair, and he shrugged. Then she couldn’t stand it—she had to bring out one of her trusty erotic romances. It was Tastefully Done, one from the Untamed Wanderer series. She read Nedbody a passage as he slept, gently caressing his perfect bottom as she did and feeling his muscles involuntarily tighten as he dry humped the bed. “Shadow’s thighs registered the heat of his haughty stare,” she read. “He seized her roughly and lifted the burning torch of her sex to his mouth. ‘Shadow, I have craved your salt taste for three long years,’ he said, his lips red as embers in the deepening dusk.”
“Whoo!” she said. “That’s the stuff! Nedbody, baby, do you mind if I kind of help you turn over?” He didn’t seem to mind, and she eased her fingers under one of the thick muscles of his upper thigh and pulled gently, feeling like a camel driver. He drew his arms in and turned, and she had her first glance at his cock, which lay like a railroad tie hanging out from his body. It moved with his heartbeat. She watched it for a moment, wondering at its independent spirit.
“It looks like you have something major going on there, Nedbody,” she said. She found that she couldn’t help herself, and she curled her fingers around the fullness of what remained of his intelligence. “Think with your dick,” she whispered, moving her mouth closer. She pulled one knee up and pushed the other away, and he lay sprawled, jutting upward like some travesty of a Michelangelo sculpture, and from him came the dusty, meaty scent of his balls, which she breathed in for a long time and allowed to swirl around in her brain. For she did have a brain as he, poor Nedbody, did not. “You poor brainless man,” she said. “I’m going to suck your dick, and you won’t even know it. Mmmmmmm.”
She encircled the base of his cock and brought it up so that it grazed her lips, and she found that when she did his hips made a little judder, a kind of minithrust, which was precious to her because it was a bit of communication. “That’s it,” she said, “use those hips, baby.” Then she closed her fist on his cock and slid her hand all the way down again until the skin pulled tight on the pistil head of his manjig.
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