by Marco Vassi
Her breathing was long and full and I placed one hand on either side of her rib cage, for a long moment doing nothing but feel the fragility of life with each breath as it surged in and out. I was exalted by an almost holy reverence for her body, for the very wonder and joy of it. I moved myself down until I was at eye level with the backs of her legs, and then ran my tongue up her thighs, licking and nibbling the entire expanse of flesh, moving in concentric patterns toward the inside and up to the treasure where her legs met. I could hear her gasps and moans of delight and felt her legs slowly, almost imperceptibly move apart. I looked up and could see the cunt slit unfolding as she opened up. With a long thrust I glided the flat of my tongue right up to the cleft where her cheeks rose up from her legs, and licked in a long arc until I had buried my face completely in her ass. I smelled the aromas rising from her cunt. She arched her back and brought her cunt close to my mouth, inviting me silently to taste the deepest part of her.
I was overcome with the lust and holiness of the moment and collapsed into her warmth. I heard her moan and she began to move, grinding her pelvis into my face, seeking for my tongue to get deeper and deeper into her. I was beyond all thought of technique. I tore into that immense small space and sucked and bit and groaned and lost all vestiges of any reality except the hot, wet gyrations of cunt and ass over my eyes and nose and mouth.
She pushed back and came up on her knees, so that the entire underneath of her hung open for anything I might want to do. She kept her shoulders low on the bed so that the angle of penetration would be the most acute. Fleetingly, amidst all the love vibrations that swam through me, I appreciated the fact that she was so skilled that her body had its own sexual intelligence. I glued my mouth to the now-inflamed gash, my lower lip rubbing her clitoris, my tongue playing into the grainy section of cunt just past the actual opening. I drew a great long breath that seemed to last for an eternity, and then her entire vagina ballooned up and I felt a stronger suction drawing me in. It was as though she were sucking my entire being into her. I drew even harder and pulled the balloon of air back into my lungs, and then pushed it out again, full into her cunt. She went wild with passion. Her head swung crazily from side to side, her ass moved in jerky gyrations, her spine rippled like worms. For a moment an incredible tension hung in the now-immense pocket of vacuum that our mouth and cunt had become, and then she gasped. Her whole body went rigid as the inside of her cunt arched and formed a great still cavern. And then it broke, wave after wave of convulsion and sobbing; I drank and drank of her until the cycle ended, and we both slid forward and lay there, sated.
After a while, she stirred. I looked up at her and her eyes held a light I had never seen before in any woman. She drew me up and kissed my mouth and face. "This is for you, Michael, only for you. I have never let another man have just this before. Only you have this special part. This is just for you. Now, fuck me. Put your cock in me. Let me give you my cunt."
Trembling, I pushed myself up and saw her lying on her back, her legs apart, her breasts quivering back onto themselves, her ass forming a cup on the sheets. "Here, take it," she whispered. "It's all yours, it's just for you."
My cock was almost bursting, and I lowered myself slowly into her. Immediately the heat and wet of her cunt changed the electricity of my entire body. Waves of relaxation washed over me, eddies of gratitude and joy. I felt my face light up with love. I was like a child overwhelmed with goodness. "Oh, Susan . . . Susan . . ." was all I could say.
"Yes," she hushed in my ear. "Yes, baby, it's all us."
And like that we fucked, cock and cunt becoming one organ, no separation between us, but just a single joyous riding through time into realms of timelessness. And our entire eternity was the smell and sound and taste and sight and touch and balance of the glorious, shitty, sublime human body. Deep, deep within we heard the call, the summons to climax. And a great heat and tumult began erupting throughout all existence, with our eyes locked to each other and our minds a single awareness, with jiggling breasts and heaving asses and drooling mouths and cries from some primeval plain, we came and we came and we came.
I must have lost consciousness, because I next remember waking up in Susan's arms and the sweat between our bodies had dried. "Susan," I called, and she gently opened her eyes. She smiled. "Hello, darling," she said. And in that instant fear struck. For there was no recognition in her gaze. And I wondered how many other times and with how many other men this had happened. It was not jealousy that bothered me now, but a sense of having been cheated somehow, of having been promised something unique, and receiving a beautiful present, but one which came out on a production line. Did she know who I was? What was in her mind? There was no way to ask without being clumsy.
She may have sensed something for she asked, "Is something wrong?" "No," I lied, "it's just that I was wondering about the time. Tocco said something about an experiment this evening." With the mention of that name, I snapped out of my meantime nirvana and plunged into contextual reality. Still, this is one time I was glad he hadn't burst in with one of his bits of esoterica. "Probably time for us to be getting dressed," she said, and we climbed off the bed to get our clothes on.
On impulse I grabbed her arm and asked outright: "Susan, while we were making it, what ... I mean, were there any things in your head that . . ."
But she cut me off. "It's too soon for us to go into that," she said. "Let us just enjoy it as it was."
"But what it was is what I want to find out about," I protested.
She looked at me levelly. "What more do you need to know?" she asked.
I realized that I had come down too heavily on the moment, and I backed off. "No more than I now know," I said.
She stepped quickly into my arms and put her head on my chest. "Oh Michael, I know it's difficult, and it's going to get harder. And I don't want to sound like I know more than you, but it's just that when you've worked with Tocco for a year, you are able to see things, somehow . . . oh, I don't know how to explain. We had something very beautiful and special. Just hold on to that. Remember, no matter what else happens, or you think you see happening."
My doubts melted and I held her close to me. Then she stepped back. "We have to be going," she said. I watched as she pulled her toga over her head, and saw her body disappear beneath the cloth. It is always sad when a beautiful woman puts her clothes on, but this time it was almost heartbreaking. I thought of what her body looked like under the gown, and I felt another erection beginning. But it was one of those greed hard-ons that lead to pinched orgasms, so I just let it subside. I dressed and went to my room to put myself together before going down to dinner.
SIX
DINNER WAS LIKE a family affair. I met Susan in the hallway upstairs and we entered together. I felt like a beau with his prom date. Our time in the room had roused romantic feelings in me which I knew were dangerous, but which I enjoyed too much to dispel.
The dining room now held about twelve people, including the two girls, Sarah and Jean, and their mothers whose names were, I learned, Sylvia and Joan. These two latter were among the most fervent in the group, having been with Tocco for many years and willing to let their children experience, from birth, the widest possible range of sexual play. I flashed the Greek temples in which children were trained from a very early age in the arts of pleasure.
Again it was serve-yourself style, but most of the food had been cooked and a salad put together already. Halfway through the meal, Tocco picked up on a piece of random dialogue and began one of his expostulations. "It shall be interesting to see," he said, "whether, after a thoroughly sexual childhood, these two enter into anything like a latency period. After all, the only way to find out whether latency is cultural or genetic is to test the variables. The problem of science to date is that it has been willing to create nuclear weapons and napalm to kill, torture and maim millions of men, women and children, and yet raises it puritanical skirts at a simple little experiment in the pleasure function of t
he young. If my experiments were found out, I would be prosecuted and jailed as a fiend and a monster, and yet the swine who make fortunes from implements of war are considered pillars of the community." He paused for a moment, then went on. "But let me not burden this company with my tirade. The congenital hypocrisy of society is not something you need to be convinced of." And saying that, he looked directly at me and added, "Or is it?"
I felt apprehension at his words but could find no proper reply. I fell back to my food and we finished the meal in silence. Just before dessert, Susan got up and excused herself. I asked her where she was going, and from across the way Sylvia teased, "My, my, getting proprietary, aren't we?" Susan left without comment, and I had coffee and cigarettes in a dejected mood. Soon there were only Tocco and myself at the table. I looked up and saw him watching me with a look that seemed to hold a great deal of pity. He rose from the table and said, "Well, Michael, are you ready to proceed with the evening's experiment? The difference with other times is that tonight you will be a spectator, with the hope that the distance will give you greater objectivity. It will take place in the basement."
I followed him downstairs to a room which was some twenty feet square, furnished with an odd assortment of couches and chairs. Across one wall was a large movie screen. Facing the screen, on the opposite side, was a small raised platform with two steel-rimmed chairs. It was to the chairs that Tocco led me. But as soon as I had sat down, four men sprang as if from nowhere and held me while Tocco handcuffed my wrists and ankles to the steel tubing. I tried to resist, but Tocco said with a soft smile, "Nothing shall be done to harm you, Michael; this is just in case you suffer a lapse from objectivity."
I struggled with the anger and fear inside me, but I realized that there was nothing I could do. Also I believed Tocco, that he meant me no physical harm. I resigned myself and settled into the seat, and began to wonder just what it was that would take place when the peripheral lighting went dim. A soft throbbing drum sound filled the room, and eight naked men came in and sat in a circle about ten feet in diameter. They gave off a powerful smell and vibration, with something of the jungle in the ferocity of their silence and purposefulness.
Then, from the shadows, a woman walked in. She was made up in bright gaudy lipstick, and was chewing gum. She had her hair done in a starched cone piled on her head. She wore a thin blouse which accentuated her breasts, and a skirt almost too tight to walk in. Her thighs and ass bulged out in obscene invitation to plunder. The outfit was completed by three-inch spike heels. She looked like a grotesque parody of the plasticized office secretary, a mindless bit of well-proportioned protoplasm.
I began to smile in anticipation of the scene; then I looked a bit closer and almost tore my skin attempting to leap out of the seat when I realized that the woman under that garish get-up was Susan!
I whirled my head around to Tocco, but he was unruffled. "This is the fantasy, Michael, the one that Susan has chosen to work on tonight. It is an advanced exercise, and is being done mostly for her own sake. And your presence adds a nice touch, but try not to see it as a personal affair."
"You're mad!" I rasped. "You must know how I have begun to feel about Susan!"
"Precisely, Michael. And it is those feelings that you must come to terms with." He turned away from me and looked out toward the others. "Here we have the archetypal cockteaser, the woman who holds the favor of her burgeoning body in promise to all men and yet gives her favors to none. She is a tense, castrating bitch, and that is but a cover for a frightened teen-age girl. She is walking home alone late one night. Suddenly she turns a corner and is grabbed and whisked into a room. Inside the room are eight men who have had no sex for weeks. It's an interesting bit of drama, don't you think?"
I peered into the gloom. Half of the men were black, half white. Two had major deformities, missing arms or legs, Two were brutally ugly. I couldn't tell whether or not it was makeup that made them so. One had a cock that was some twelve inches long in its limp state. I turned back to Tocco. "You can't subject her to this, Tocco! It's inhuman!" Tocco rumbled deep in his belly in an almost silent chuckle. "I?" he said. "Why, Michael, this is her fantasy. And you share in it."
I was outraged. "Me? I don't want to give . . ."
He interrupted. "Don't you? Haven't you wanted to give a woman you were enjoying to other men? Let her be used by them? Let her be fucked by them? Haven't you? Come now, no dishonesty."
"Yes, but . . ."
"But!" he thundered. "But you wanted to set up the circumstances! You wanted it to meet the neat outline worked out in your mind! Reality is bigger than that. As you will find out. As you will find out in full!"
The power in his voice stunned me, and I slumped back in the chair. I looked to the center of the room. The shadows had grown erotic. One of the men had set up a low murmur: "Come on, baby, stick out your ass. Let's see those tits." Others joined in: "Hey baby, you want it in the mouth? Spread those legs, pig, give us some cunt." Susan just stood there at first, and then one of the men reached out for her leg. She seemed genuinely frightened and pulled back. Another closed in on her. She tried to get away, but now there was no exit to the room. She was being backed toward a wall and she screamed at the top of her voice, but the room was soundproofed also, and no amount of noise she made could do any good. The voices continued, insinuating, gravelly: "You ain't gonna get out, not till you lick every cock in the room, not till you suck every one of us off, not till you go down on your knees and take it in the ass, not till you spread those thighs and get fucked by every man sitting here. And you're gonna beg, you're gonna beg for it. 'Cause you want it, don't you? You really want it."
As he spoke, I could see Susan's knees begin to get weak. She stood uncertainly against the wall and then began to totter out toward the center, dazed. A silent scream formed in my mind. The men began to crawl toward her. She was transfixed, torn between wanting to escape and hypnotized by what was about to happen. Finally they were at her feet, and eight pairs of hands began moving up her legs, under her skirt, touching, pulling, pinching. She swayed back and forth and shuddered as though a sudden chill had entered the room. Her legs were being pulled apart, and the tight skirt formed ridges across the crotch and outlined the curves of her ass even more. Then, slowly, deliberately, she parted her legs. There was a long, long moment of tension, and then one hand went all the way up and closed hard on her cunt. She uttered a single cry, "Oh God, yes!" and then sank down into the middle of them.
They pulled her flat to the ground and then went about their business quite deliberately. They laid her out spread-eagle and began removing her clothing. She closed her eyes and rolled her head from side to side, as though she were saying no, but at the same time her mouth opened and her tongue began working slowly. First her shoes came off, and then one reached under her skirt to remove her stockings. One man unbuttoned her blouse and the bra peeked out from the opening. Then two of them grabbed her skirt and slowly yanked it off her legs.
She lay there with just panties and bra, and seemed so small and helpless among the men that my heart broke. But with my pain ran a current of excitement that I could not suppress or hide. And it was not so much that I wanted to be one of the men down there, although that was true, but that I wanted to be Susan, lying vulnerable and ready to be plundered by anyone who came by. Then they closed in on her and just began to maul her, rubbing their hands all over her body, sitting on her, putting their cocks and asses on her, rubbing themselves into her.
They reached a point of near-frenzy when I thought they might begin tearing at her, but they stopped, and, again quite deliberately, began removing the rest of her clothing. The bra was unhooked and her soft white breasts tumbled out and quivered. I let out a low moan. Then two of the men grabbed her panties and dragged them down her thighs with excruciating slowness. I looked at her face and saw that it was frozen into a mask of expectant repugnance.
Then one of the men leaned down and began whispering in her ear. I
t was impossible to hear what he was saying but the effect on Susan was devastating. She began whimpering and crying. She whipped her head from side to side and kept moaning, "No, no, no, no." But another of the men came forward and slapped her hard across the face. She opened her eyes in shock and then slowly sat up. She took her wig off and her beautiful hair cascaded down her shoulders. Then she wiped her face with her skirt and took most of the makeup off. I saw the transformation take place.
Tocco leaned over and whispered sotto voce, "You see, if she stayed completely in role, she could hide behind that. Now she has to face the fact that she, Susan, as she is, wants very much to have this happen to her, without any theatrical coverup."
I looked at her, and for a moment our eyes met. I can't describe what took place, but I had to look away. She was as beautiful and tender as she had been that afternoon. And then she lay back almost luxuriously,* closed her eyes, reached down, and spread her tender cunt apart with her fingers.
At once they were all upon her, putting their fingers and hands into her cunt, reaching and digging between her legs, going into her asshole, spreading her legs wider and wider. The men went back to saying things in her ear again, and again her face contracted in a strange kind of pain. But as she sobbed "no" to him, she kicked up her legs, grabbed her ankles with her hands, and spread her legs as wide apart as they would go.
They swarmed over her like ants. For a moment she was almost lost from sight. And then some definite action began to emerge, as one after the other of them moved around to lick or bite or kiss different parts of her body. Hands and mouths plundered her box and her mouth and her breasts. At one point I saw that her cunt was already dripping wet and her nipples as hard as buttons. Then one man lay on his back and the rest of them lifted her up and lowered her onto him. His cock pointed straight up, and they maneuvered her so that it came right to her asshole, and then pushed her down. She fell back and gasped. She began clutching at the air with her fingers, but they pushed until she was completely impaled, and the hard cock was totally buried between her soft buttocks. Another then came from the front, delicately moved his cock from underneath and worked his way into her cunt. For a moment it seemed that she stopped breathing. It was as though she were possessed of some instantaneous overwhelming vision that froze her to the spot. Horror and ecstasy rippled through her in competing waves. Then a third man knelt by her shoulders and rammed his cock harshly into her open mouth. There was no movement for a second, and then everything happened at once.