Tackling the Team (The Vassi Collection)

by Marco Vassi

  When we landed it was eleven o’clock, and the night was delightfully warm. We got into a taxi and Sandy surprised me by suggesting we go to North Beach before finding a hotel. “I’d like a drink,”‘ she said. But when we arrived on the garishly lit main drag of Broadway, she steered me into one of the topless-bottomless bars. “It’s owned by a friend of mine,”‘ she explained.

  Inside, we were among the only women in the crowd, while the stage held three naked lovelies doing their bumps and grinds. A burly affable man made his way toward us and embraced Sandy. He turned out to be the owner, and announced that drinks were on the house.

  We sat and watched the show for a while, consuming three vodka martinis apiece, and the alcohol and ambience combined to make me more than a little itchy. My thighs felt as though tiny ants were nibbling at the soft flesh. The women were all slim and very sexy, and as I watched their bobbing tits and gyrating pussies, I kept reminding myself that I would soon have my mouth buried in Sandy’s cunt, while her fingers explored my own. I guessed that this very reaction of mine was one of the reasons she had taken me there. As the show progressed, she began to stroke my thighs under the table, and I responded in kind, loving the feel of her firm legs beneath her short skirt.

  Then, for the second time that night she surprised me. “Like to dance?”‘ she asked.

  “Huh?”‘ I said thickly, slightly drunk and a little turgid with swollen lust.

  “Mac usually lets me get on stage and do a number. Usually I do it just for kicks and to see if there’s anybody interesting in the crowd, but tonight it’ll be for you. But I’d love it if you joined me.”‘

  “Why not?”‘ I said, looking out over the sea of piercing male eyes, imagining what it would be like to have them focused on me. I had become used to the nature of exhibitionism, and was ready to take it to its next logical step. Sandy made a gesture to the owner and when the act finished, he bounded up on stage and made his announcement in a loud voice.

  “A real treat tonight,”‘ he boomed. “Two cheerleaders from the Seattle team, and one a dear old friend of mine”‘—he winked lewdly to approving chuckles—”will grace us with a special performance. Come on girls.”‘ And with that the small combo struck up a Latin beat.

  Sandy took my hand and we made our way to the stage, all stares on us. I clambered up, almost stumbling, and suddenly found myself practically blind, powerful spotlights beaming down on me.

  “Take it off,”‘ a raucous voice shouted.

  The music increased its tempo, and with a glance at one another, Sandy and I started peeling off our clothes. The crowd started stamping and whistling, and in a few seconds I was stark naked on the stage of a nightclub in San Francisco, a roomfull of howling men at my feet. For a second I was paralyzed, and then the music penetrated my consciousness. Forgetting everything else, I threw myself into the rhythm of the dance, breaking into a kind of mambo shuffle. Keeping time preoccupied me for a while, but once I had the feel of the movement, I let myself go and just enjoyed the freedom of swimming through air, supported by the beating drum and thrumming guitar. I glanced over at Sandy and my heart leapt into my mouth. She was beautiful! Tits already covered with sweat jiggling back and forth, her ass trembling with each step, and the furry mound over her vulva bristling as she lifted and dropped her legs. It took a moment for me to realize that I must look exactly the same, and suddenly the stunning power of the scene hit me. I was shaking my ass to a crowd of men who were probably already erect, and only the thinnest fabric of social convention kept them from stampeding onto the stage and fucking us on the boards. With the knowledge that I was safe, I began to enjoy my cock-teasing dance. I lifted my breasts with my hands and offered them to the audience. I ran one hand between my thighs and rubbed my pussy. I turned around and shuffled from right to left, letting my cheeks wobble and shake.

  The roaring in the crowd increased and men started pounding on the tables. The music hit a faster beat and a small frenzy developed. Suddenly we were out of time and space. This might have been the Coliseum in ancient Rome or an Aztec sacrificial altar. It was what it was and everything else besides. I spun around and found myself facing Sandy. We grinned at one another and started dancing to each other’s movements, advancing and retreating, coming close and touching nipples and then backing away while our hips pumped forward. It was the sublimation of sex and the prelude to sex. The vodka stirred my blood and the raw lust of the crowd raped my brain and my body leapt free of restrictions and launched into a wild orgiastic explosion, as I leapt and threw my arms about and stomped on the stage and emitted fierce cries. It was an extraordinary purgative and I wondered whether Sandy had planned this also. I took everything that had been troubling me, all my fears and self-doubts and burned them in the acid of corybantic ecstasy, reviving the archetypal power of archaic priestesses who celebrated secret rites to gods unknown to men.

  This was the antipode of the literary lesbianism which had come to form my stereotyped understanding of woman’s celebration of herself. It was the spirit of the huntress in the hills, and my vision filled with eruptions of blood as I hurled myself into the climax of the dance. The audience, the music, Sandy, my life, all the sex, the doubts, all burned and dissolved in the final whirling conclusion as I spun around and around, arms flailing, tits flying, cunt gaping, until the world exploded in a single triumphant chord, and I lay on my back, panting, staring up at the twinkling stage lights, the adulating roar of the audience cascading over my ears.

  I suppose that if I had been alone I would have gone on, as everyone was urging me to do, and caused such a vortex of seething passion that the whole place would have been drawn into my orbit. There would have undoubtedly been a gangbang, with the men taking me and all the other dancers in the place, and I would have easily made the front page of the Chronicle the next day. But Sandy helped me to my feet, gathered up our clothes, and spirited me into the dressing room.

  I flung myself onto a couch and closed my eyes until everything stopped spinning. When I looked up, Sandy was watching me with undisguised desire. One of the other dancers was standing in the corner, putting on eye shadow. “That was real pretty, honey,”‘ she lisped, “but it’s not an easy act to follow.”‘

  “Let’s split,”‘ Sandy whispered.

  I nodded, and we dressed, and within minutes we were in our third taxi of the day. It was one of those nights when the world seems unhinged, to have lost its mundane regularity, and is no longer bothered with revolving around the sun or spinning on its axis, but has burst loose into outer space. It seemed that all convention, all law had been suspended. I was flushed with an extravagant euphoria, and felt lifted high above all humanity. I looked back on the Julie that had been weeping over her troubles just that afternoon, and from my Olympian height was able to pity her and dispense largesse. I had been catapulted into a different state of consciousness, and while I was the same person I had always been, I now, temporarily, had access to a wider range of energies.

  “I feel so high,”‘ I said to Sandy.

  “That’s what a vacation is for,”‘ she replied. “For five days you have no name, no history, no attachments. Everything is flow, everything is climax. It’s time to blow out all the gaskets and let your system wax out to its fullest. So when you return to the other world, you are invigorated and refreshed.”‘

  “Oh Sandy,”‘ I said, “I’m so randy for you.”‘

  “Me too,”‘ she whispered. “Soon now.”‘

  We took a room in one of the smaller hotels on Nob Hill, barely able to contain ourselves to go through the ritual of signing in. I let her handle all the details, and after what seemed an eternity we were in the elevator, and finally in the room, the busboy having dropped our bags and handed us the key. Sandy and I looked at one another. She was ravishing, and my desire for her was unabashed and total. As she suggested, I didn’t even try to relate the moment to any other context
in my life, but wanted only to experience it fully, to drain it of its juices.

  Sandy glanced at me and her eyes glittered with cold intelligence. “For five days we love each other, nothing held back. And after five days, we become friends again. All right?”‘

  I sobered long enough to accept the full meaning of her words. I knew exactly what she was saying, and was happy that she was taking the onus of defining our relationship upon herself.

  “Yes,”‘ I breathed. “And now, now, I want your mouth,”‘ I said, the words spilling out of me as I ran across the room to her. I flung myself into her arms and our lips melted into a single opening while our tongues sent slithering thrills through mingled saliva.

  For a long long time I was lost in the discovery of the beauty of a woman’s body. Of course, I knew that women, including myself were beautiful, but mostly through reflection in men’s eyes. But now I could taste and touch and smell that incredible loveliness for myself. Sandy and I shrugged off our clothing as we kissed, our hands flying from clasps to zippers to stretches of exposed flesh. We embraced and caressed, danced and stumbled, an unceasing torrent of lustful vibrations buoying us along until we found ourselves naked, sprawled across the double bed.

  I didn’t know what to do first. My mouth was on fire with the long complex kiss we held, my hands filled with Sandy’s fullness, holding one firm conical breast, pressing it against her chest, tweaking the nipple into erection, while running my other hand over her twisting buttocks, stroking her high curved ass, running my fingers into the spreading crack. Our cunts were pressed against each other, and we pumped our hips furiously, straining for contact, my clit pounding against her pubic bone, my cunt lips tickled by her hair.

  We rolled over and over, legs thrashing, tits squashed into one another’s breasts, our mouths seeking voraciously to devour the entirety of the other. There was a sudden shift in rhythm, and without a word we began to revolve around one another’s bellies, like two hands on a clock, our tongues parting unwillingly but continuing their agitated licking, now over shoulders, arms, tits, thighs, and finally, to the desired target.

  With a groan I flung my face into Sandy’s crotch, drinking in the deep smell of her juicy cunt, feeling her hair scratch my cheek. Her legs parted and her pussy lay revealed, black-rimmed and wrinkled outer lips, opening to coral curves within, and ending in a deep pink serrated bud: the hole of her hole. I curved my fingers around the edges of her twat, and stared in fascination as it parted. I was almost dizzy from the rich pungent aroma of cunt, and my mouth watered in anticipation of the feast it was about to enjoy.

  I had not realized how alluring and mysterious a cunt was until then. Beneath it, the lower curves of her asscheeks provided the frame, while the insides of her long muscled thighs gave support, like two pillars holding up a temple. Above, her sloping belly. And in the center, beneath its mat of furry hair, the soft gash itself.

  “Unngh,”‘ I moaned, and brought my lips to the core of her cunt, pressing my mouth against the already moist pussy. My jaws trembling with weakness, I curled out my tongue, and almost swooned as the acrid juices covered it. I tasted, and decided that it was the single most fantastic thing ever to hit my taste buds, at once rich and subtle.

  I could control myself no longer. I lunged into Sandy’s cleft, sucking and licking and nibbling. I was buried in cunt and wanted to stay there forever, drinking from that eternal fountain. I remembered all the men who had gone wild between my legs, and at those times I was so taken with my own pleasure that it did not occur to me what theirs might be. Now, in retrospect, I received the vicarious pleasure from all the times I had been eaten, thinking what a wonderful thing it must be for someone to slurp-worship my twat.

  The thought was obviously spurred by what Sandy was doing at precisely that moment. As I burrowed deeper between her thighs, fucking my tongue as deeply as I could into her juicy hole, pressing my lips tightly against its lips and sucking all the juices from its folds, she was doing exactly the same with me. I was so involved in the feelings coursing through my mouth that I did not at first notice the sensations in my cunt.

  But now they started to reach me. Sandy had taken my clit between her teeth and was grinding it gently. This brought me so close to the edge between pleasure and pain that I shook with tension. My thighs were clamped tightly about her head, and my ass quaked as orgasmic tremors shot through me. The jolts of electricity went up my spine and into my brain and out my tongue!

  The esoteric meaning of the sixty-nine position dawned on me: this was the snake swallowing its own tail, the current of cosmic unity. It wasn’t me doing her or her doing me, but a single unified action in which there was no distinction between individuals. It wasn’t to be my orgasm or her orgasm, but a single spasm in which we both felt the same surging conclusion. This meant there could be no manipulation, no trepidation. We would both have to surrender to the flow and let it decide when and where we surfaced.

  I let all my thoughts go and become one with Sandy’s body, my mouth glued to her cunt, giving it intimate messages with lips and tongue, breathing into it, kissing it, speaking to it, while my cunt opened to her mouth, sucking in her tongue, tingling to her teeth, spending juices for her throat. My breasts were crushed against her thighs and hers against mine, while my hands fluttered again and again over the marvel of her perfectly shaped ass. I parted the cheeks and traced one finger down the crack to the small anal opening. It was already slick from the secretions and saliva that had trickled down between her thighs. The whole space from cunt to asshole was a swamp of woman-smells, a pool of thick sticky fluid.

  My finger went in easily, and her tight asshole clutched it firmly. I pushed harder and soon was buried up to the third knuckle of my middle finger, and was wiggling it around, and thrusting it in and out, teasing her asshole as I lapped her pussy with broad strokes. Her finger went into my ass, and her hands pushed my cheeks inward, crushing me to her face.

  Locked like that, we began to ride. With mounting pelvic thrusts and raunchy slurping sounds, we ate one another’s pussies like thirsty women drinking water. I got lost in the welter of sound and motion and growing excitement. We were both cumming, that was clear, and there was no doubt but that we would cum together. Our long friendship, the shimmering night, and our impassioned fervor in the hotel room had worked us to a pitch of complete complementarity.

  Our legs kicking and sliding across the sheets, our tits rubbed sore against one another’s thighs, our fingers in each other’s assholes, our cunts and mouths in utter communion, we skipped like a rock skimming across the water into a series of light staggering orgasms, exploding . . . sailing . . . exploding . . . sailing . . . exploding . . . sailing . . . eight, nine, ten, eleven times, until we finally subsided, and like a stone sinking in a pond, leaving a trail of overlapping concentric circles at each place we had touched, and deep ripples where we ultimately sank.

  We lay a long time without moving, side by side, our mouths still fastened to one another’s pussies, our hands still inside each other’s assholes. I had become a total blank, a simple movement of breath, without sensation, without thought.

  “This,”‘ I thought, “is peace.”‘

  And right upon my thinking it, Sandy stirred. She disengaged herself gently and rolled to the edge of the bed. She reached down to the floor, and I heard the clasps of her suitcase snap open. I didn’t know what she was looking for, but her ass was so inviting I couldn’t resist the temptation to do what I did next. Snaking over, I placed my mouth on the back of one of her thighs, biting firmly. Sandy gasped. I licked the bruised spot and worked my way higher, trailing inwards toward the black center where her thighs met. I glanced up and her buttocks loomed like vast hills. She spread her legs slightly and I could see between her thighs: the puckered anus, with the skin around it purple from arousal, and beneath that the gaping cunt, its crown of hair wet and straggly from pussy juices and my own sa
liva.

  I licked the bottom of one of her succulent globes, and then dove over her rump and into the crack, my cheeks inside the spread of her cheeks. I slid out my tongue and touched her asshole lightly, causing her to squirm. I pushed forward, now bringing my lips against the tiny hole, kissing it passionately, loving its shape and taste and smell. She arched her hips and pushed back, grinding her ass into my face. I returned the pressure, hurting my mouth against the bottom of her ass crack. My tongue probed further and penetrated the arcane orifice, swirling into the hot musky canal. Sandy groaned and brought her hands back to part her cheeks further, giving me greater access to the bud at the center. I shot my tongue in as far as it would go, straining it at the root, and then pulled back, and pushed in again, fucking her asshole with my tongue. I twirled it again and drew all the way out, and then began licking the crack with long broad strokes, starting at her pussy and covering her asshole. I licked her like a dog until she was moaning steadily and audibly, and then I turned on my back and slid under her, pulling her on top of me so that she sat on my face.

  Now she threw her full weight into me, and I lay back passively, my mouth open, my tongue extended, as she rubbed her bottom all over me, covering me with her cunt and asshole, grinding my head into the bed with her lust-induced rhythms. She worked more and more frantically until she was lost in another climb toward climax. I brought my hands between my legs and thrust four fingers into my cunt, plunging them in and out, sloshing into the wet center and rubbing my clit frantically. Sandy grabbed my hair and held my head in a fixed position as she rode my face, fucking my mouth with her cunt, and suddenly her motion became spasmodic and I knew that the Greater Force had overtaken her, and her gasps of climax filled my ears as her pussy juice filled my mouth, and within seconds afterwards I was kicking my legs in the air as I fingered myself into my own orgasm.