The Devil’s Sperm is Cold

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The Devil’s Sperm is Cold Page 10

by Marco Vassi


  “And what happens there?”

  “You take off your clothes, and sooner or later you get involved in something or other. There are no rules.” He ran his eyes down her body, pausing again at her breasts, and seeming to penetrate all her clothing to perceive that her cunt was becoming interested in the image. She had to check an impulse to put her hand between her legs.

  Jack had written an address and a time on a piece of paper, and put it on her desk. Then he took ten dollars from his pocket and put it next to the information. “It’s in Brooklyn,” he said. “If you come, take a cab.”

  And now she stood there, waiting for the massive wooden door to be opened. The day had grown progressively duller since Jack left, and she buried herself in detail. She went home, found herself taking a shower and putting on her most inviting skirt and not wearing a bra under the gauzy blouse she chose. Without thinking about it, she was making her decision. And when she went into the street, she began at once to look for a taxi. “Of course, I’m going,” she said to herself as she gave the driver the address, and had to promise him a large tip for the trouble of taking her all the way to Brooklyn.

  A pleasant, plump middle-aged woman opened the door and looked at her inquiringly. Behind her, there seemed to be no activity of any sort.

  “I’m Joan,” she said. “I’m a friend of Jack’s.”

  “Oh yes,” the woman said, and Joan realized that she might have said, “I’m Suzy and I’m a friend of Henry’s,” and been met with the same response.

  “Well,” she thought, “one doesn’t come to an orgy to be intimate. It’s just a matter of bodies.”

  “The bodies are downstairs,” the woman said, and Joan rocked back on her heels with imagining that her thought had been read. “I’m Helene,” the woman went on, “and this is my house. Come in.”

  Joan stepped into the foyer. “I’m sure Jack told you the rules,” Helene said. “You must be naked and you must not remain a mere spectator. Aside from that, you may do whatever you like with whomever is willing to do it with you. And if you feel that someone is imposing upon you, you need simply to say ‘No,’ firmly, and he or she will stop. That is the final rule.”

  Helene walked with her to the end of the hallway. “Please remove your clothing here,” she said, “and hang it in that closet.”

  Joan spun around. “But this is really all so cold!” she exclaimed.

  “Not really,” the woman said. “Just efficient. We’ve had it the other way, and had the most terrible imbroglios looking for lost pocketbooks and skirts and wallets. Also, there is something necessarily symbolic about entering the orgy room naked. It puts everyone on an equal footing at once. There is no way to maintain social identity when you don’t have any clothes on.”

  Joan began to remove her blouse, letting her large breasts fall out. They jiggled as she bent over to remove her shoes. She let her skirt drop to her ankles. Helene watched her the way a matron might watch a student preparing for a long-delayed shower. “This is weird,” Joan said as she slid her panties down her legs. Finally, she stood naked.

  “Very nice body,” the woman said. “I wonder how many cocks will come in that prim pussy of yours, how many fingers will make that delicious ass wriggle with delight, how many cunts will smother those wide lips, how many mouths will feast on those tiny sensitive nipples and those lush full breasts?” Joan looked up with a flash of horror. The woman was stone-faced. “You are an infant,” she said, “and you have the advantage of having a young body. But remember, there are those of us who have been reborn in a different dimension. Think of that when you begin to judge us as being cold or unfeeling, or if you begin to condescend to me because I am old enough to be a grandmother, because I am running to fat, because I am no longer desirable. Just remember, when one is no longer desirable, it sometimes means that that person has freed herself from the chains of desire itself, chains which still are coiled tightly about your mind, and make you a slave to the promptings of your cunt.”

  She reached forward abruptly and slipped her hand between Joan’s legs, and just as suddenly pulled it back. The tips of her fingers were moist. The woman smiled grimly. “Go on, little Jack’s friend, go down into the sea of flesh, and see if you can satisfy yourself.”

  A fear began to creep up Joan’s spine and she was almost panicked into putting on her clothes again and leaving, but the woman took her by the arm and led her to another doorway. Opening it on a hubbub of sound, she propelled Joan inside, and closed the door behind her. Joan found herself standing on the top step of a circular stairway, and, taking a deep breath, she began to descend.

  The scene that greeted her eyes made her reach for the most immediate time and space perimeters she could find. “It’s ten-thirty and I’m in Brooklyn,” she said to herself, but the words were of little meaning in the face of the timeless drama in front of her. There was the race of humanity, in the throes of its ultimate dance, the final attempt to shed all the millennia of inhibitions and conventionally defined reality that had accrued in their twentieth-century mentalities. Gone were the badges of sartorial definition, the social roles, the moral structures which imposed themselves upon the free perception of the real. It was not that they had attained any higher understanding in the essentially bourgeois expression of release they had convened to share, but that in the very attempt to become other than what their civilization would have them be, they found an odd dignity of purpose that laced the superficially riotous affair with veins of seriousness.

  “Ah, Joan,” a voice cried out.

  Joan looked out over the room to see Jack coming toward her. He made his way gingerly across the erotic battlefield, sidestepping couples fucking, groups of threes and fours and fives in various pretzel forms, and individuals who looked like people out for a stroll in Washington Square Park on a Sunday afternoon, somewhat self-involved and idly cruising. She could not make out any distinguishing characteristic among the people; there were old and young, the age range seeming to go from about eighteen to sixty; there were fat and thin, black and white, ugly and beautiful. The only thing they all had in common was that they seemed well-fed and healthy, products of the cream of the affluent portion of the world’s richest nation. The room did not have a focus.

  Jack took her hand and led her away from the staircase to a corner of the huge basement, which was now a bare den, covered with a rug, huge pillows, and containing as its only real furniture a fifteen-foot bar that stood against one wall and was stocked with a full range of liquor. The occasional sharp smell of marijuana smoke cut through the haze of tobacco, which further obscured the dim lighting. Now and then there was a snap and a sweet aroma which Joan recognized as amyl nitrate. The space was a mélange of conversational tones and moans of excitement.

  “Nice place, isn’t it?” said Jack, jovial as ever.

  “I suppose,” Joan started to say. But she was interrupted. Without further ado Jack grabbed her wrists and pushed her to her knees. She found herself staring at his immense sceptered cock, an organ all out of proportion to the rest of his body. He continued the pressure and pushed her to her back.

  “I want to get you first, before you get too crazy,” he said. “And then I’ll fuck you later, so I can have you at both ends of the spectrum.”

  Joan started to protest but such an action struck her as silly. All around her naked people were fucking and sucking and exploring their bodies with fingers and tongues. Not more than five feet away a thin blond girl lay on her side, her eyes closed, as a large burly man covered with black hair fucked her face with an angry cock. Joan could see the tip of it slide in and out past her lips, and a thin trickle of spittle spilled out of the corner of her mouth as his cock emerged and entered again and again. Her jaw was slack, and from time to time Joan could see her tongue curled inside her mouth, acting as a cushion for his cock to hit against as he thrust into her. Little moans escaped her, sounds that fell somewhere between a sigh and a slurp. He was looking down at her with un
bending purpose, seeming to drink in the sight of her defenseless face accepting the ravaging cock. Her only motion was the tiniest movement of one finger against her clitoris as she brought herself to the edge of climax over and over, keeping herself there to use the energy generated in her cunt to enjoy the sensations in her mouth. Her mouth was the complete receptacle, the thing that wanted to be ravished, to be filled, while her cunt was the source of excitement which made her cocksucking so juicy and perfect.

  As Jack pushed Joan on her back and spread her thighs apart with his fingers, the blond girl rolled over on her back. The man’s cock slipped out and he immediately grabbed it with one hand and began to pull it frantically. It was clear that he was close to orgasm. Joan felt Jack’s tongue on her belly, tracing its course downward and into the springy bush that covered her cunt. She flexed her pelvis, opening her cunt to his mouth, and he took advantage of her willingness by thrusting three fingers into the wet crack while covering her clitoris with his lips. Joan let out a grunt and began to let the heat move her, as her legs kicked wide and closed again, and her hands went to her breasts as she rubbed her nipples into erection.

  “Well, so far it’s no different than most other sex I’ve had,” she said to herself as Jack slipped another finger into her anus, causing her to clench her ass cheeks to drain the intruder of sensation.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth,” the hairy man was saying, “I’m going to come all over your face. And you love it, don’t you, you hot little bitch. Come on, get that finger up your cunt and fuck yourself wild. Let me see you come while I fill your mouth with hot sperm.”

  Through half-lidded eyes, and half-involved with Jack’s ministrations between her legs, Joan watched the hairy man begin to shudder. Ripples went up and down his spine and his hips pumped faster and faster. He seemed to fight a battle between keeping his eyes open to watch his cum spurt all over the girl’s face, and letting his eyes close to better enjoy his own feelings. Voyeurism won out over sensationalism and he stared down at his cock as it let loose jet after jet of globular jism. It splashed on her closed eyes, on her cheeks, on her lips. He guided his cock down until the opening was between her open lips, and he let the rest of his ejaculation drop on her tongue. The girl squeezed her thighs together, brought her knees up, and jabbed her finger one last time into her cunt. She was clearly in the throes of a silent inner orgasm, and as she came she rolled the sperm around on her tongue, making her mouth white and sticky, and then with a huge gulp, swallowed the entire mouthful of spunk. She curled her tongue out and licked her lips clean. She took her free hand and wiped the sperm off her face and sucked her fingers dry. The man fell back into a sitting position, and did not move for a few minutes. The girl got up slowly and began to look around the room, searching for the next cock to suck.

  Joan came on Jack’s tongue. She had become so involved with the drama next to her that her climax had built without her being aware of it, and as soon as she realized that the girl she had just seen was ready, willing, and able to have every man in the room come in her mouth and still be ready for more, Joan’s body responded with its own volition, and caught her up in a fluttering orgasm which had her kicking her legs up in the air and pushing Jack’s head down into her pussy, letting him lick and suck at the most intimate part of her.

  Jack pulled back and sat between her thighs, his mouth wet with her secretions. He winked at her with his unchanging good humor. “Nice,” he said. “You tasted just like I thought you would.” And he moved back away from her. “See you later,” he said.

  “But, is that all?” she asked him.

  “This is an orgy, Joan,” he said gently. “There are hundreds of experiences to be had. You’ll learn after a while not to get too involved with any single one of them. That defeats the purpose of the gathering. If there’s someone you especially like, arrange to meet him afterwards.”

  Then, swiftly, he leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. Her tongue touched his for an instant, tasting her own cunt juices. He held her head in his hands, looked into her eyes, and went on, “Stay light, Joan,” he told her. “That’s why I invited you here. You’re really a lovely person and I like you a lot. But you have to learn to lighten up. Sex is like eating fruit. It’s delicious and fresh. Don’t make a melodrama out of it.”

  Abruptly, he turned and crept off. She watched his body until it was lost in the general crush of bodies. And suddenly, in the middle of the orgy, she was alone.

  “What do I do now?” she wondered.

  The answer was not long in coming, and it arrived in the form of two men who were looking at her as lasciviously as flesh-and-blood reflections of the Tweedledum and Tweedledee archetypes. Both in their late twenties or so, with short auburn hair, they were each almost six feet tall and looked enough alike to be first cousins.

  “I’m Marty,” said one.

  “And I’m Dave,” said the other.

  “This is your first time here, isn’t it?” said Marty.

  Joan nodded, fascinated by their brisk approach. She was still lying on her back, supported by her elbows as she raised her torso to a thirty-degree angle from the floor. Her breasts lolled to either side of her chest, and her legs were still spread apart from having Jack eat her cunt.

  “I can tell what you’re thinking,” Dave said. “Jack told us you work for a dirty book publisher. And you wonder whether we’re fags or not.”

  “Does everyone around here read minds?” Joan asked.

  “Oh,” Marty remarked sitting down next to her, “it’s just that when the repressions are thrown off, people get more psychic, that’s all, which is not any different than being more sensitive. You can sort of tell what people are thinking by the expressions on their faces.”

  Dave sat down on the other side of her. “We used to be homosexuals,” he said, “but then we discovered that what we really wanted to be was partners in a hunting party.”

  “A hunting party?” Joan repeated.

  “That’s right,” Marty continued, taking up where Dave left off. “We go out hunting women, and when we get them, we give them an indescribable treat: being fucked by two men who are so attuned that they act as one.”

  Joan began to reply but her mouth was covered by Dave’s lips, and the breath caught in her throat. He pressed his mouth against hers, and his hands went to her breasts. And then, his hands still on her breasts, his hands went to her thighs. Four hands! She opened her eyes in astonishment. Dave pulled back. “There are two of us, remember?” he said, and licked her lips with his tongue, causing her mouth to open. He kissed her once more and she let herself fall back on the floor. It was getting a little difficult to sort things out. Someone’s fingers were pinching her nipples, and as she felt the tremors shoot down through her belly and into her crotch, other fingers trailed up and down the crack of her ass and into her pussy. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the experience. There was something distant about the excitement she felt and she tried to pinpoint the precise feeling. Physically, she was getting highly aroused. She could tell just by the external manifestations. Her body was writhing on the floor, her ass was hot and itchy, waiting to be touched; her cunt was extremely wet, and her nipples were screaming with tender heat, as though a thousand tiny pinpricks were turning them on. Her mouth had a life of its own as she pressed her tongue into Dave’s mouth, giving him a performance of passion. But she was also somehow removed from it all. As though from a great distance she could hear the other people in their exercises, and even her own body felt as though it belonged to someone else. Somehow her awareness was not in herself alone but drifted somewhere near the ceiling, and mingled with the consciousness of everyone else there. She did not articulate it as such, but her experience ceased being private and became one with all the others in the room, as though they were all members of a single body.

  All she could think was, “Ah, so this is what the orgy is about.”

  And then she was overwhelmed. For when she open
ed her eyes she saw that the man kissing her was neither Dave nor Marty, but a total stranger. “A stranger!” she thought, “but what makes him more of a stranger than Dave or Marty? The fact that the others at least exchanged a few words with me? Is that all it takes to establish human contact? A few words?”

  The man working on her mouth was insistent, probing with his tongue and lips, wanting to suck something out of her. She tried to resist and wanted to say no, for all at once she felt as though she were being seen and treated as something dirty. But at just that instant, a cock nudged itself against her cunt lips.

  “A cock,” she thought. “Not a person, not a man, but a cock.”

  The organ slid ponderously into her. It was very large, and her cunt stretched wide to accommodate it. Her legs opened almost automatically, and her hands went up to embrace the torso that went with the penis. The man fucking her began to move in earnest, swinging his cock from side to side, pulling out, pausing, and then penetrating deeply, giving her a thorough fucking. She found herself moving in response, cupping her ass so that it shifted more fully under him, and pushing her pelvis up, pumping her pussy into his thrusts. A hand swept over her belly and began playing with her clitoris. She moaned and the man kissing her whispered, “That’s it, baby, give me your mouth.”

  That was what she resented. Somehow it was easier to give her cunt anonymously than it was to give her mouth, and the man kissing her seemed to know that he was reaping a more precious harvest than the man fucking her. She tried to say the magic word “No,” but his lips prevented her, and then there was the mounting excitement between her legs as her cunt started to squeeze and pump the cock that throbbed and jerked inside her. She could hear the sloshing of the organ in her hole and the heat of her clitoris drove all thoughts from her mind. She was going to come, and nothing could stop that, and as she got hotter and wilder, the man kissing her sucked harder, pulling in her lips and tongue and breath and spittle.

 

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