"Lawfully wedded nymph" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hotey Don K.)

CHAPTER FIVE

Herb Button's office was just off Hollywood Boulevard, in a squat-looking skyscraper, very modern looking, that was composed of alternating layers of steel and glass. The glass was tinted a dull green, and the building reminded me of a large, plastic emerald. The cab pulled up in front of the building, and I paid the driver, tipping him moderately. Ralph had "loaned" me twenty dollars to get me started, and I promised to pay him back as soon as I got some money at my new job. Of course, there was some interest on the loan, a blow-job and a screw, and that was collected in advance and was coupled with the promise that I would not forget all his help once I "had it made," to use his words. I spent the money very carefully even though I was confident that I'd have no difficulty in getting by. I never realized how resourceful I really was before my solitary trek across the face of America. From New York to Washington, D.C. to California: cost, nothing; gain, twenty-dollars. The first thing I did with my money was get a place to live. I checked into a small dive of a hotel, The Westphail, that catered to transients. You pay for the room by the day or week. The room was small, but not clean, but I didn't mind too much; it 93 was only a beginning. Once there, I invested a few dollars more, purchased a cheap dress and a hairbrush. That left me with about three dollars, and my cab fare was two-fifty, tip included. So I had fifty cents left and a room that was paid for until eleven o'clock tomorrow morning. But I was confident. The dress was bright and colorful and it went really well with my sandals. I showered and scrubbed myself down, dried and brushed my hair, and checked myself out in the mirror. My breasts were heavy and full, and if you stared carefully enough, the dark triangle of my crotch could be seen through the thin fabric of the dress. Still, I suspected that that would not be a hindrance; especially if the job I was going for was anything as I had imagined it. There was a cigar store in the lobby of the green glass building, and I spent half my money on a candy bar. I realized I hadn't eaten all morning. While munching the candy, I wandered over to the building directory and looked for Button's name. I found it alphabetically, listed as: HERB SUTTON AGENCIES, ING. and it was located on the sixth floor, room 604. I felt just the faintest flutter of doubt as I stepped into the plastic elevator, but I fought it back. This is perhaps what I need, I told myself. Maybe what I've needed all along. A job of my own. Independence. A paycheck to spend as I see fit-on me alone. Not on the house, not for food, and not for bills. But for me. For things I want. For dresses, for clothing, for shoes, for makeup, and maybe even a beauty parlor once in a while. My own money, my own paycheck, and one day my own apartment. A chance to be

free. Maybe that's what I need. Perhaps that's what has been missing from my life. Music played down upon my head from somewhere above me, and I felt the slight tug of the elevator starting its upward journey. I began to think about what I had just told myself. I never really had very much freedom, I realized. I lived with my parents, went to a city college so I didn't have to travel, and met Peter there, in a Psych class. We got married when we graduated, lived in the Village for a year, then Peter got his promotion, and we bought a house on the Island. I worked that first year after graduation, as a secretary in New York City, but I had to quit when we moved to the Island. We couldn't afford to have us both commute, and besides, I had the house to take care of. And that was it. My whole life. All of it spent with in a radius of fifty miles or so. I lived in a house, went to school in a house, and got married and went to live in another house. Never on my own, never living alone, never doing anything with my life other than what was expected of me. Fulfilling my role as a woman in American society. From one closet to another. I tried-to think about being on my own, but it was so hard to visualize the concept; it was so alien to my previous way of life. My own paycheck; my own clothing-bought by myself; my own apartment -paid for by myself. It was an exciting idea. Freedom. Perhaps, perhaps . . , The elevator jerked to a soft stop, and I got off. Room 604 was off to the right, down a wide marble corridor. The entrance was a frosted double glass 95 door, with black stenciling on it. I read the name twice to make sure, then started to knock. I decided not to, and I opened the door and walked in. It was a small square room beyond, carpeted with a thick green rug that ran from wall to wall. The ceiling was low, with the lighting recessed behind large frosted glass squares. That gave the room a soft, hazy quality. The walls were painted a light green, and the painting and accessories around the room were also green. There were two large rubber plants pushed into the far corners, one on either side of the wall. The chairs and the sofa were brown leather, and the desk in the center of the room was dark walnut. The whole room was a play-off of green and brown, and with the soft hazy light, it somehow reminded me of a jungle or a forest. I wondered if the impression was an accident or the intention of the designer. The girl in the center of the room, sitting efficiently behind the large square desk was the only thing that was not green or brown. She was tall and cool and pink, with a long dangling shock of ash blonde hair. Her eyes were aqua blue, and she was wearing a powder blue sleeveless dress. She was strikingly beautiful, and she reminded me of my mental images of California. She smiled as I walked in, but waited patiently until I walked over to her desk. She asked: "Can I help you?" I smiled back, feeling very conspicuous under her gaze. My confidence oozed away like melting butter. I was sure she knew I was naked under my dress, and I tried to cover over my nipples. Had Ralph given me a false lead? I wondered, 96 looking around the room in that split second before I answered. It certainly didn't look like what I was expecting; it should have been sleazy, like my hotel room. Was I in the wrong place? Had I misunderstood Ralph? Td like to see Mr. Sutton . . . please," I said. She smiled at me with' dazzling white teeth that could not have been real. "I see. Do you have an appointment, Miss . . ." She ran a silver fingernail down the lines of the appointment book on the desk in front of her. "Bryant. Sally Bryant No I don't have an appointment." Her finger stopped moving, like the carriage of an electric typewriter, and she looked up from the book and smiled sympathetically. Her lips were perfectly shaped, and she wore a pale pink lipstick that was as thick and rich and creamy as a paste. I judged she was about twenty-three. "I'm terribly sorry, Miss Bryant," she began, "but Mr. Sutton is terribly busy today. Perhaps I can make an appointment for you for some time next week . . ." Panic stabbed into me. "No . . . qh!" I said, perhaps louder than I should have. "You don't understand. I have to see Mr. Sutton today. It's very important." She smiled sadly, sympathetically, pursing her lips. "Gee, I wish there was something I could do . . ." I tried to think. I had no money, no place to sleep, nothing to eat . . . nothing but the clothing I was wearing. "But-But Ralph said he called. He-he . . ."

A light went on in her blue eyes. "Ralph?" I grasped at it hopefully. "Yes. Ralph D'Angelo. Ralph D'Angelo. He's a friend of mine. He suggested that I come to speak to Mr. Sutton. For a job." Her perfect smile blossomed out, and this time I knew it was genuine. "Mr. D'Angelo. Why didn't you say so before. I'm terribly sorry, but I didn't realize." I sighed in relief. "That's all right." "I'll speak to Mr. Sutton immediately. Why don't you have a seat for a moment." I nodded, breathing again, and I walked over to the brown leather sofa and sat down. It was soft and firm and smelled of lemons. It made a soft crushing noise as I settled into it. The blonde rose from her desk and disappeared through a brown door in the middle of the far green wall, in between the two green rubber plants. The door was marked Private. I looked at her empty desk, and noticed there was a bronzed nameplate in the middle of it. Her name was Miss Mitchell, and I wondered whether it was her real name. It sounded too perfect. Too Hollywood. The door opened again, and Miss Mitchell stepped out. She left the door open just a crack. "You can go in now, Sally," she said, calling me by my first name for the first time. "Mr. Sutton is waiting for you." She smiled, dazzling rne with her teeth. "And good luck." I nodded my thanks, and pushed open the door marked Private. The room beyond was another green and brown square, almost identical to the one I'd left. The concept must have worked, for the decorator decided to carry on the motif. The same green rug 98 and walls, the same low hazy light, the same brown leather sofa in the far corner. Only the desk was different. It was larger and further back, and there was a man sitting behind it. Herb Sutton was-different from what I had been expecting. I'd imagined him to somehow look like Ralph, only much more refined and more businesslike. You know, over fifty, wide flowered tie, * mod suit, fat and balding and perhaps rimless tinted sunglasses. But I was pleasantly surprised. I guessed that he might have been forty, but he was probably less. His dress was comparable to what I had imagined, but it fit his slim tall frame the way a kid glove fits a hand. His suit was deep brown, obviously hand-tailored, with a tan shirt and a bright yellow striped tie. His hair was black and long, his eyes brown, and his handsome face was toasted from long hours under the California sun. His features were sharp and vivid as though his face had been chiseled from a piece of aged mahogany. He rose to greet me, extending his hand. "Come in, please, Miss Bryant. Have a seat." His voice was rich and cultured, deep-toned and sexy. He moved his body with all the lightness and grace of an athlete. I settled myself into the brown leather chair across from him, and he sat down. "How is Ralphi^' he asked, and I thought I caught the slightest hint of a double meaning. "I haven't seen him for ages." I nodded. "He's . . . fine. Fine." Herb Sutton smiled at me, to relax my tension. "I spoke to him on the telephone this morning, and he gave me a very thorough report of your . . . assets, shall we say. A very thorough and very good report." I felt myself blushing as I imagined what he must have said. "Oh." "You know, of course, Sally-You don't mind me calling you Sally, do you?" "No, no. Of course not, Mr. Button." He held up his hand. "Herb. Herb, please. All right, Sally?" I nodded. "Fine, Mr, Sut . . . Herb. Fine." He sat back in his chair, tilting back. "As you know, Sally, we run a very . . . unique service business here, and we sometimes have to be very careful about whom we hire. Not that it's illegal exactly, but . . . Well, you know how Victorian some legislators and law enforcement people can be. They don't seem to have any understanding of how life is changing around them. The whole sexual revolution, for example . . ." He went on like that, talking platitudes, never once mentioning what the job was, but hinting around enough to let me know that it wasn't another secretarial position. It seemed to me that he was trying to defend his way of life; as if he were trying to prove to me that he wasn't doing anything wrong or immoral. That seemed very important to him-• to make it and his motivations sound altruistic. Like a public service. I wondered why he needed to legitimatize himself that way? Why he couldn't even be honest with himself? "Well, what exactly is the job?" I asked impatiently. "Didn't Ralph tell you?" "Not in so many words. Not exactly." He was holding a pencil in his hands, twirling it 100 as he leaned back. He looked at me over the top of the pencil as if studying me. He flipped the pencil on his desk, then sat forward, leaning towards me conspiratorially. "Sally," he said, "you're a very attractive young woman. And as such, you can make an enormous amount of money if you are willing to … sleep with our clients for pay," Even in describing it, I thought, he had to clean it up, I don't have to fuck with them, only sleep with them. A very fine distinction. Expecting that land of an answer, that type of Job, I didn't hesitate in accepting. "All right. I'm willing." He studied me again. Tou understand, of course, what you are agreeing to?" I said I did. "And you'll have no compunctions, no second thoughts?" "No, I don't think I will." He nodded gravely several times. "All right, you're hired." He leaned across his huge desk and depressed the button on his intercom. "Miss Mitchell, would you come in here, please." I sat back in my chair, and realized my knees were shaking. My breasts were hard, and I could feel my cuntlips sticking together. "You understand, of course," he said, playing with the pencil on his desk, "that we do have to … test*yon first. You know, to make sure that you are capable of … performing to our standards." He made it sound as if I had to take a typing test, but I was half expecting some kind of trial 101 examination. I didn't think they would buy sex without first . . . trying the product, to use Herb's terms. I accepted this condition also. "I guess that's only fair. When is this test going to take place?" "Right now," he said, rolling the pencil. "Right now, Sally." My cunt throbbed, and I began to imagine what Herb looked like naked. I wondered how long and fat his cock was. "Are you going to test me . . . personally?" I asked, trying to be sexy. Herb dropped the pencil. "Certainly not," he said. "That is not one of my functions." He seemed insulted. The door opened, and Miss Mitchell, the ash blonde beauty from the outer room, walked in. She closed the door behind her, then locked it She said: "I locked the front door too." Herb nodded. "Very good, Patti." Then, turning to me, he said: "Sally, why don't you take your clothing off. I want you to make love to Patti." I felt my stomach rise up, then sink very heavily. I felt numb. "Wh-what?" I asked. Herb gave me a very cold long stare. "Do you object, Miss Bryant?" In my whole life, I have never made love with another woman. I have never so much as kissed another woman with any degree of passion, much less sexual intent. To be honest, however, I have thought about it, and found myself tamed on to the idea because of its perversity, but never, never would I ever have dreamed of doing more than thinking about it. Up to this moment, that is. In the split-second I had for reflection, I had to 102 make my decision. I was apprehensive to be sure, but I was also excited and fascinated by the prospect of making love to a woman. To touch a breast, a cunt that was not rny own … I found myself quaking in anticipation. My mouth tasted hot and sweaty. The nipples on my breasts pushed out the front of my dress like twin marbles. I rubbed my hand against my thigh. My palm was suddenly sweating. "No," I said finally, "of course I don't mind. I was just . . . surprised. I thought I-" Herb finished for me. "Thought you were going to make love to me?" He laughed softly. "No, no, Sally. Women just aren't my . . . thing." What a waste, I thought. What an incredible waste. "Now if we can begin?" he asked. He settled back in his chair, pushing 'it back, away from the desk. I rose up slowly, still uasure. My knees were trembling. I turned towards Patti, and I got my second shock of the morning. She was sitting on the edge of the brown leather sofa. Her pale blue dress was gone, and she was sliding her jpanties down her long, slender legs. Then, a moment later, she stood, completely naked. My breath sucked in loudly, but I didn't care. Patti was unbelievably beautiful. Her body was tall and slender, her breasts full and hard, touched off with broad pink nipples. Her waist pinched in and her stomach was flat. She had long, long legs, round and soft, like columns of ivory. Her flesh was a creamy color, smooth and supple and velvety. The mound of her crotch was like the smallest wisp of a V, and it was covered with pale blonde, almost white down-like hairs. I saw suddenly that ash blonde

was not her natural color, but it didn't matter. I was transfixed by her stark beautjc. "Aren't you going to undress, Sally?" Herb asked. Reluctantly I pried my eyes from Patti's nakedness. "What? Oh yes. Yes, of course. Right . . . now." I noticed my hands were trembling as I parted my dress. I could feel their eyes racing across my nakedness as the silky material whispered to the green rug, but I didn't care. I was excited, sexually excited by the knowledge of what I was going to do. Before I left thisjroom, I will have made love to a woman … I will have made love to Patti! "Look at that," Herb whispered. "Look at that! Looks like Sally came prepared. Nothing on but the dress." Patti ran her hand over her breasts, cupping one. She lifted it and pulled it up towards her mouth. She bent her head down, and I watched her tongue flick across the stiffening tip of her nipple. "Ohhh," she moaned. "That feels good. Why don't you come and do it for me, Sally? Please. Come and suck my titties, Sally." As if I were in a dream, I found myself moving towards her. The bristling softness of the rug brushed against the bottom of my naked feet. My thighs quivered with bubbling passion. Patti settled on the sofa, opening her legs and sitting back against the cushions. She parted her thighs wide, and I could see the lips of her cunt pulling slowly apart, as if they were sticky with excitement. She cupped her tit again, the one with the wet nipple, and she offered it to me. "Come and make love to me, Sally," she said. With 104 her other hand she patted the side of the sofa next to her. "Come and make love to me." The cool firm leather of the sofa felt like ice against my burning flesh as I slid onto the cushion, next to Patti. She greeted me with her arms open, as a male lover might, and I slid under her arms and pressed my nakedness against hers. Her mouth was open and waiting, and I kissed her. "Good . . . goodl" Herb whispered. Then he grunted. "Good!" Patti's mouth was soft and wet, and she kissed me with a gentleness that took my breath away. She moved her tongue like a snake, prying, open my lips, and she sunk it deeply into my mouth. I sucked on it hard, as I might such on a cock, draining it of the sweet, heady taste of her femininity. I heard a rustling of clothing off in the distance, from the desk. Then a moaning sound. "Yeah . . . yeahr Unlike my tits, hers were small and firm. My own larger, swollen orbs brushed against hers, the nipples tingling, and I cried out as the electricity of the contact surged into my body. Patti's hand came down and squeezed into my tit, and in return, I grabbed one of hers. -"You're big," she moaned, pulling her mouth from my lips. "I like a woman with big titties." She moaned, and squirmed against the sofa. "Oh, squeeze them! Squeeze them, Sally!" Her hand was driving me insane with pleasure. The softness of her hand, the smallness of her size, tile tender pressure of her grip was so unlike anything I've ever felt in my life. I pressed my breast firmly into her hand and kissed her hard again on 105 the mouth. My fingers tightened into her small hard tit, and I flicked her nipple. "Uh . . . uh!" Herb grunted. "I7W With the pressure of her arm behind my neck, Patti broke off the kiss by bringing my head down, pressing it against her nakedness. "Suck them, Sally!" she cried, straining up towards me. "Suck them . . . my tits!" My lips were trembling and my mouth was dry as I slid them across the gentle curves of her neck and shoulder. Her flesh tasted warm and delicate, soft, and it was strange not to feel the tickle of hair against my nose. I slid my tongue from between my lips when I reached the base of her tit. Patti shuddered and gripped my hair as I began to slide up the breast, searching for her nipple. "Suck . . . them," Herb echoed weakly. "Suck . . . them!" Patti's nipple slid softly into my mouth, and I pursed my lips around it. My head was spinning wildly, and my eyes had difficulty focusing. I couldn't believe what I had in my mouth, between my lips . . . Patti's nipple! "Suck it, Sally," she urged, squeezing my breast with tightening fingers. "Please . . . Please." The nipple felt odd in my mouth, unlike anything I've ever felt before. It was hard, yet firm, soft and tender, but pulsing. I licked my, tongue over it, starting at the base, then up and" over, until I was licking the other side. Then back again, over the throbbing nub of flesh. I stiffened my tongue, and began to beat it against the nipple, in short, rapid strokes.

"Oh … God!" Patti moaned. "God, Sally . . . God!" My cunt was oozing all over the cold leather seat of the sofa, and I ground my thighs together, bringing pressure against the clitoris. I rubbed up and down, moaning from the pleasure I was bringing to myself. "Beautiful . . ." Herb moaned. "Beautiful]" I tightened my lips around the tip of the nipple, and I dabbed down with my tongue. I tried to push the nipple back into the soft hill of pink flesh, bury it inside of her tit with the shoving wedge of my tongue. It slipped up and oozed into my mouth, hot and throbbing. "Ohhh," she moaned. "My cunt, Sally. Please . . . do my cunt. Touch it!" I got up on one knee, leaning over her, with my mouth fastened to the end of her tit, and I slid my hand down over Patti's flat belly. She hunched up, lifting her hips, and she pressed her cunt into my hand. "Oh . . . God!" she moaned, spreading her thighs. "God!" "Uuhhhr Herb cried. "Uh . . . uW Patti's cunt was incredibly wet, sopping wet. My hand slid across the soft silk of her pubis, over the curve of the mound, then down and under, between her thighs. I pressed into her damp soft flesh, spreading the oozing lips until my fingers were digging into her body. The burning ember of her clit jumped to immediate life unde amp; my hand as I opened the flap of her lips, and I pressed down onto it with my fingertips.

"Oh . . . yesr she cried. She hunched up against my hand, driving her body against my palm. "Oh . . . yes!" I began to roll the slippery bud, my fingers slipping in the wetness of her slit, and Patti began to writhe excitedly. She dropped her hand from my soft, large tit, and she buried it in the "sopping wetness of my cuntal folds. She touched my clit as I was touching hers, and we began to masturbate each other, each working and responding in a sympathetic tempo of mutual pleasure. I heard something moving off in the distance, across the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Herb standing. His pants were gone, and he was naked from the waist down. He still had his jacket and shirt on, and the long tails of material hung obscenely down his body. His cock was long and thick and erect, and he was jerking himself off savagely. He began to move towards us, stroking himself as he walked. "Uh . . . uhl" he grunted. "Beautiful . . . Toeauiv-ful!" My fingers slid from the high curve of Patti's cunt, down the slick path between her lips, and I stabbed the fingers into her cunt. She jumped with pleasure, as if I had impaled her with a dildo. The inside of her cunt was flaming hot, oozing her wet excited juices all over my hand. She responded with a similar reaction, driving two of her slender fingers deep into the tight lining of my box. I pressed back against her hand, squeezing my cuntal muscles around the invading hardness. Patti drove the fingers in and out, fucking me with her hand.

"Oh . . my . . . God!" I groaned, spinning with passion. Sweat oozed from every pore of my naked body, drenching me until I was slippery with excitement. Every fiber of my being was quivering with pleasure, and I twisted around against Patti, hunching my gripping cunt against her hand. Inches away from us, I could see Herb. His cock was a blur of color inside of the pumping hollow of his fist. His balls danced up and down as if they were on a string between his muscular, hairy thighs. "Sixty-nine!" he grunted. I could hear the slap of his hand against his straining belly, the slide of his cock through his fist. "Patti . . . Sally . . . Sixty-nine!" Like two halves of- a circle, we screwed around, twisting our sweaty, naked bodies against each other. I wound up on the bottom, my perspiring back sticking to the adhesive tightness of the leather sofa. Patti was above me, with her thighs parted, and her cunt coming down into my mouth. I reached up for the twin moons of hei1 ass, and I pulled her to me, my mouth open. "Eat me!" Patti moaned. I could feel her mouth against my cunt, her tongue between the lips. "Eat me, Sally. Eat mel Eat my cunt!" And then, for the first time in my life, I tasted a cunt. "Oh Jesus!" I cried, hearing "my exclamation 'reverberate in the sweaty hollow between Patti's thighs. "Ohhhhhr I could feel the tight folds of Patti's cunt opening around the point of my tongue. I could feel the wetness of her oozing cunt spreading across my face like a sexual mist. I could taste the heat of her body, the sweat of her body, the thick rolling juices of her 109 creaming pussy as I drove my tongue deep inside of her. The raunchy, sexual fish-like smell of her cunt filled my nostrils, making me dizzy with the sweetness of the aroma. "SoonI" Herb groaned. I could hear his body straining, bending, arching out, pointing his loaded cock towards us as he pulled himself closer and closer to "orgasm. "God . . . Jesus . . . I'm gonna come!" My hands tightened around the muscles of Patti's ass. I dug my fingers into her and pulled her cunt directly against my face. My nose slipped between the inner lips of her cunt, and I drilled my tongue up the tight, slippery passageway inside of her. I could feel the throbbing hardness of her exposed clit as it rubbed against my bobbing chin. Patti began to groan, rolling her head from side to side, stabbing me with her tongue and grinding her cunt hard against my mouth. Then her body tensed, and she dropped her weight against my face. She began to quiver, and I knew she was coming. She transferred her excitement to me, like an electrical circuit: from her bunt, up her body, out her mouth, through her tongue, and into my clit. She flicked the love button rapidly, cruelly, expertly, with swift rapier-like darts and stabs and licks and slaps. Her tongue trembled with the emotion of her orgasm, and she laid it against the sensitive arousal of my clit, sending those vibrations up inside of me until my cunt felt like a raw, exposed nerve. Sensations that I never knew could possibly exist rolled up from my cunt like waves engulfing my body in a searing tide of orgasm. My body began to 110 quake and I felt myself slipping down, under, drowning in the sensation of coming. "I'm . . . coming!" Herb screamed. "I'm comingr I felt his sperm splash on my body, like boiling oil splattering from a frying pan. My body blistered in pleasure as the thick, oozing slime gushed across my writhing nakedness. Spreading, oozing, coating me with the thick milky white heat of his orgasm. Patti moaned, going higher and higher. My orgasm reached out for hers, locked together, and went soaring out of existence in a painfully blinding white flash. Is this it? I wondered. A woman? Is this it?