“I don’t think I said that.”
“I think you did.”
Oh, brother.
“Look, mother, I should go. I’ve got things to do.”
“Like what, dear? It’s Sunday. You said so yourself: you don’t have a boyfriend. You don’t have any friends. What must you possibly need to do today?”
“Laundry, grocery shopping, the apartment is a mess. I really should vacuum.”
“Have you been drinking? Your voice sounds a little slurred.”
“No,” Audrey lied. She took a sip of her Long Island Iced Tea. A pre-mix from the liquor store. It didn’t taste nearly as good as the drinks at the club.
“Good lord, it’s not noon yet. Maybe you should see a counselor.”
“Good idea, mother. I’ll call one now. Bye.”
“Don’t you hang up on me.”
“Hey, it was your idea.”
Audrey heard her mother sigh. The woman paused before adding, “Audrey, dear, you know men have their own idiosyncrasies. They always want their way. They want to watch football. They like to eat. Heaven knows they like looking at other women. They think we don’t notice, but we do. The way they cut their eyes. Hell, the way they crane their necks when some floozy prances by. That goes with the territory. As long as your man keeps coming home to you, instead of gallivanting all over town, that’s all that matters. You’ve got to satisfy a man in order to keep him. It’s as simple as that. You were keeping Mark satisfied, weren’t you Audrey?”
Keeping him satisfied? Keeping him satisfied? She had let other men fuck her to keep him satisfied. For him she performed cunnilingus on a woman she couldn’t stand. She did anything and everything Mark wanted. Yet he had hooked up with some fat young twat. What was she supposed to do, maintain a blind eye to whatever he did? Audrey sat up straight on the couch. Leo leaped off. She set down her drink.
“I kept Mark satisfied, mother. Don’t you dare imply I didn’t.”
“Are you sure? You’ve never kept a man for long.”
“Dammit, you don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I do so.”
“Yeah, like you kept Dad satisfied, huh? You are no expert. You don’t know what I’ve done. Mark is a player, I know that now. I was played, plain and simple.”
“Well, I never!”
“Yeah, maybe that’s why he left! Look, I’m gonna go. I don’t need this right now.” A tear formed in the corner of her eye. “I don’t need your advice.”
“You should talk to someone.”
“You aren’t qualified.”
“Then go see a real counselor.”
“Good-bye, mother.”
“I’m serious, Aud.”
Audrey disconnected the call, tossed the phone on the couch. Fuck her mother, what did she know? Audrey switched on the television and started surfing channels. All she found were religious programs, infomercials, and football.
Audrey didn’t know what she wanted to do. Her drink was nearly gone and she didn’t feel like trudging into the kitchen to pour another. Plus, the conversation with her mother had reminded her that her relationship with Mark was over, if, in fact, it had ever existed at all.
That meant no more hot muscular bod pounding into her while his boyish face smiled down at her. No more gazing into those bright blue eyes while she knelt before him pleasing him.
Audrey, on a whim, decided to browse the Pay-Per-View options. Not being in a humorous mood, she skipped the comedies. Dramas didn’t sound appealing. She wanted to watch something mindless; she had already watched everything worth watching on her DVR. So eventually she surfed through to the adult listings. Not that she watched pornography much, maybe a couple times per year. The listings included: Naughty, Not Nice; Sweet Treats; Big Bosom Blondes;and Horny Co-Eds. Typical adult movie fare. Theses titles did nothing for her. Not even So-Cal Surf Studs. Audrey still thought of Mark as a California surfer dude type. Right now that type of guy held zero appeal to her.
However, other, more hardcore titles began to grab her attention. Group Sex Lover, Double Teamed, Creampie Snatches, and Goo Gobbling Sorority Sisters II. She had never watched any movies with truly nasty-sounding titles.
She stumbled across one that tempted her. Amateur Gangbang Sluts. Forget beautiful porn stars. Forget women with bodies like Janice. Women who looked like Audrey could please men as well, could really rev them up. In fact, they could please many men and still come back for more, just like she had done with Mark and Jefferson. She had ripped through numerous orgasms and still held energy in reserve.
She selected the movie and leading advertisements started immediately. While ads for penis pumps, male enhancement pills, and coming attractions ran, Audrey quickly refilled her drink in the kitchen. She returned just as Amateur Gangbang Sluts began. The beginning credits were primitive. They flashed onscreen while a 70’s funk beat played in the background. A montage of scenes to come cycled through: a young woman stroked a pair of cocks while bouncing on another; another woman, on hands and knees, had a man at both ends fucking her orally and doggie-style; a wiry redhead rode a large cock while an even larger black cock slid seamlessly into her ass; a sweaty young woman crouching on her knees, mouth open wide while a group of men circled her, shooting sprays of jism across her tongue and face.
All of the sluts were of the same caliber as Audrey: thin, average bodies, small breasts, blemishes, stringy or frizzy hair, looks that rarely turned heads. The only difference between Audrey and these women being age. All appeared to be easily ten years younger than her. More like twelve or thirteen, she thought. But all could accept dick. They appeared to thrive on it. The background music stopped and the first scene started, featuring the redhead. She wore a thin, almost see-through tight white top. A black man entered from the left, a white man from the right. Either could have been twice her age. Both stood naked, semi-erect penises bobbing. They immediately disrobed her. She then dropped to her knees to please them with her mouth.
No plot, no names, no hellos. Nothing but dicks, holes, sexual gratification.
Audrey’s sex began to tingle, even more so than her alcohol-numbed body. When the first penis slid into the redhead’s bald twat, Audrey began to pinch her nipples. By the time positions changed, allowing the black man to ease his grotesquely huge penis between her buttocks, Audrey was teasing herself through her form-fitting pink sweatpants.
Her hand slipped into her sweats as the man came in the girl’s ass crack. Fingers sneaked into panties as the next man reached orgasm. His penis slid out of her vagina, allowing semen to ooze out.
Audrey rubbed harder as the next young woman sucked off an encircling group of men of all ages, sizes, and nationalities.
A maddening urge boiled up within Audrey’s core. Her juices flooded her panties. Her hand began to cramp. While the third slut urged a second man to squeeze his penis into her pussy too, Audrey squirmed out of her pants, folded them up neatly, and sat down on them to help protect her couch. Her mouth had grown dry, so she took several deep drinks of her cocktail.
Spreading her legs wide, Audrey watched the remainder of nearly ninety minutes of hardcore fucking, sucking, stretching and coming until she too had shallow breath like the amateur gangbang sluts. Many times, nearly every time something especially nasty happened, or a new camera angle caught her fancy, Audrey reached the brink of climax. Frustratingly, nothing she saw pushed her over the edge into ecstasy, never gave her the satisfaction of release.
“Dammit, Leo, what’s wrong with me?”
The cat pranced into the kitchen.
“That’s what I thought.” The last of her watered-down cocktail went down smooth. “Maybe I should wash up,” Audrey said aloud. The thought of slipping into warm soapy water in a candlelit room gave her hope. She always got off when she masturbated in the tub.
She bumped into the wall twice on her way to the bathroom. She ran water, lit candles, breathed in the sweet smell of lavender bath salts rising into t
he air in clouds of steam.
After sinking into soothing depths, Audrey began to replay various scenes of amateur sluts being gangbanged in her mind. Older men, younger men, large groups of men slamming amateur holes and loving every moment of it. Climax eluded her. Eventually thoughts of Jefferson, Mark, and even Janice sprang to mind. Still she could not come.
“Screw this.” Audrey shot up out of the water. Droplets rained down around her. “I’m a grown woman. If you wanna be a dick, Mark, go right ahead. But I don’t have to sit around my apartment moping because you want to stick it to someone else. Oh hell no. I am a sexual being. I can get laid if I want to.”
Audrey started to step out of the deep claw-foot tub, and just as her right foot raised past its edge, her left foot slipped out from under her. She came splashing down, head hitting its hard surface. Lightning cracked through her skull. The splash back of water sent a sudsy wave washing over her face, filling her mouth. Quickly shoving with her feet, Audrey pushed herself up out of the water, coughing and spitting.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!”
She took a deep breath. What was a little slip? No big deal, that’s what. She finally climbed out of the tub, leaving her sense of shame behind. She pulled the drain plug.
Chapter Twelve
* * *
There she sat, ego bruised, not from the slip in the tub, but total inattention from other patrons in the bar. They sat eating, mingling, petting each other as if she, Audrey, were invisible. The only person who noticed her was the bartender.
“Another iced tea for the lady?”
“Hit me. Fuck me up.”
“Coming right up.”
How many Long Island Iced Teas had she downed? Two or three at home. Two or three at Club Nadir. Over the span of how many hours? She didn’t know because time eluded her. She did notice, however, how much busier it was at the club today. She had attended on Sunday afternoons before. It had never been so busy. Granted, she had never stayed long. While sipping drinks, slipping further into oblivion, she watched men come and go, singly and paired, with women ranging in age, Audrey assumed, twenty-one to early forties.
Concubines, one and all. Competition for sure. Although most were no more attractive than Audrey herself, many possessed much more womanly figures. Tits. They had tits.
Audrey secretly seethed.
Of the men, Audrey recognized none. An aura of wealth and power surrounded them all. Jefferson never showed. Mark hadn’t either. In a slight stupor, Audrey had put on a cute outfit, primped her hair, got ready to attract herself a man. A stud. Someone to give her what she needed: carnal attention. Now that she attracted no one, she hoped Jefferson would make an appearance. Mainly because she lacked the ability to act first, to entice a man. She needed the man to make the first move, and although she was obviously ripe for the picking, sweeter fruit impeded her goal. These men had already acquired company for today’s sexual rendezvous. They didn’t need her. Dare she think none wanted her?
As the bartender mixed her another drink, Audrey decided to relieve herself in the restroom.
Despite intoxication, her last trip to the unisex restroom rang clear in memory. That bitch Janice hadn’t made an appearance today, either. Maybe she was out fucking Mark, letting him give it to her up the ass. If Audrey saw her rusty Toyota, she would do more than key the door, she would smash a window, break the antennae, flatten a tire, maybe rip off a side mirror, damn her. She should be so lucky as to run into that cunt today. If she ran into her in the restroom this time, she would strangle her with the goddamn anal hose!
Audrey pushed through the door into the restroom expecting nobody, found nobody. She went straight for the handicap stall. Within moments sweet relief gushed free. Audrey patted herself dry, pulled up her panties, freed the skirt of her yellow summer dress from the waistband. Then she went to a sink to wash her hands. While drying them she heard the soft swing of the restroom door opening. She turned, expecting to see a well-built young woman, half-expecting her to be Janice.
Instead, a tall, slender man with short-cropped hair of salt-and-pepper stood before her. Audrey had never seen him in the bar before, but had noticed him on several occasions reading in the library. Perhaps he never drank. Tobacco seemed to be his vice, as typically she saw him smoking a pipe.
Audrey stopped in her tracks. So did the man. For a length of a breath they took each other in. He wore casual pleated slacks with a charcoal polo shirt. The outfit was crisp, his hair stylish. His eyes cut to the empty stalls, returned to caress her body.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Who are you with?”
“Nobody.” Audrey’s mind screamed wrong answer as her words slipped past her lips.
“Neither am I.” His hand lowered to his fly. Fingers found the zipper.
Equal parts of danger and excitement surged through her veins. When his zipper didn’t drop she looked up to see his gaze panning her body again. That attention helped tip the scale. Finally, his gaze locked with hers.
“Are you game?”
“I don’t know.”
A metallic zip sounded, further thrilling her. He never blinked. Steely eyes peered at her from across the room. They charged her, nearly hypnotizing her.
“I think you are.”
“Maybe.”
He glanced down and she followed his eyes. Hers fell at his crotch. She watched his hand reach into the black fabric of the slacks.
“Here you go.”
His penis was small, flaccid. She could solve that problem.
Dutifully, Audrey went to him, kneeling down. She took him into her mouth and began working him. Soon he stood rigid, slacks down, her saliva drooling down his shaft, dripping from his balls. She stooped to lap at the drops. His moans sang to her. His buttocks clenched in her hands, while his hands tightly pulled back her hair.
Her body ached so. Passion had remained bottled up for the past week. After the agitation of the afternoon, the pressure grew too great. It threatened to explode.
Suddenly she stood, turning so quickly she nearly stumbled. She caught herself by leaning on the counter.
“Fuck me, please!”
The man needed no further urging. Her panties peeled free as he tugged them down. Her skirt lifted up, exposing her bare bottom to him in the cool, sanitized air. He prodded against her before slipping in, filling the void in her life.
The time he spent thrusting into her flashed by in one incredibly orgasmic moment. A moment of lust, desire, naughtiness, and danger. Her knees tried to buckle when his penis pulled free. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a mask of ecstasy cover his face. Warm, thick spray shot across her cheeks.
Just as quickly, he backed away from her and went to a urinal. With tap water and paper towels she cleaned herself up. He finished washing just as she did; however, she allowed him to exit the restroom first.
At the bar her cocktail awaited. She drank greedily. Halfway through the drink her perch atop the stool began to feel precarious, like a stiff breeze might topple her from it. The numb wobbly feeling came as a pleasant surprise.
“Hello, Audrey. Is this seat reserved?”
Audrey swiveled around to find Jefferson standing beside her.
“Be my guest,” she slurred.
“Tossed back a few, have we?”
A grin spread across her face. “You betcha.”
Jefferson returned the smile as he perched beside her.
“Are you here with Mark? I could use some face-time with that chap.”
“No, not me. Probably with someone else. Wherever they are, it isn’t here. Unless they’ve got a room. Whatever—I haven’t seen him.”
“Are you here alone?”
“Not quite. You are here, Jeff.”
A chuckle erupted. “Right. Right, you are.” To the bartender, he ordered, “The usual.” To Audrey: “A bea
utiful young woman such as yourself—I can’t believe nobody has latched on to you tonight.”
“Yeah, well, their loss.”
“My gain.”
“Exactly. Good ol’ Jeffy … I’m glad you stopped by. Too bad you didn’t stop by sooner. But hey, later is better than never.”
“Right-o.”
They laughed. Both drank. Audrey sighed.
“You think my tits are too small?”
“Honestly, they aren’t large. You know that.”
“Guess so. Think I should get them enlarged?”
Jefferson tapped his chin as he contemplated her question. “How large?”
“More than a handful is wasted, right?” Her voice fell quiet.
“Most definitely. At least as far as I’m concerned.”
“Men like breasts, huh?”
“Only the ones who enjoy women.”
“Good point.”
“You know,” Jefferson said, “a little more up top would look good on you.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Maybe a C-cup. Or a D-cup—I dunno if they could go that large from the get-go.”
Jefferson made a face. “I quite doubt it. In fact, a C-cup might be out of the question for you. However, young lady, a nice, full B-cup would probably suffice. If not, what can be done, can be undone. Or redone. You get the picture.”
“Yes, thank you, I do. There is only one problem.”
“Money?”
“How did you know?”
“Money is always the problem. Luckily, it shouldn’t be much of a problem in your case.”
This time is was Audrey’s turn to make a face. “What do you mean?”
“I, for one, would like to see you with nice, perky B-cup breasts. I would be willing to make an investment in such an endeavor.”
“What?” Audrey asked, already sensing the direction this was headed.
Jefferson brushed back her frizzy hair, caressed the nape of her neck. He followed the slope of her shoulder. “Well, nothing you haven’t done before. Or, dare I say, enjoyed.”
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