against her teeth. She took her hands away and held my cock with her mouth. She put her fists on my belly, with her fingers curled under, and then worked them the way a tom-cat works his claws when he has a she under him. She wiggled her lips; then she put her tongue under the end of my prick and pushed upward. It felt good for a minute, but then it was like being caught in a slicing machine. I yanked my cock away from her mouth, and the dent marks of her teeth were there on the end.
“What the hell are you trying to do?” I said. “Is that something Toby's friends do?”
She licked the marks, and then she kissed them. She took the end in her mouth again and made her lips very wet and moved it around in them.
“I forgot,” she said. “It's because your prick is so much more like a prick. Those others didn't seem real.”
She was sitting up again, but when I pushed her back she went down. She held my cock in her hands and then put it in her mouth and then held it in her hands again.
“Is that what you did?” I asked her. “Did you go down on all of Toby's fag friends?”
She nodded her head, and she looked as though she thought I might be going to hit her.
“They thought it would be fun to jazz just for the novelty, but it didn't work with them. After they tried it once they weren't interested in that, but they wanted me to suck them off. Some of them couldn't even get a hard on when I did that. Like Toby: if I had my clothes off and looked like a woman he couldn't do anything.”
“Stop talking about Toby. Jesus Christ, you make me sick,” I said.
She knelt on the bed and took my cock in her mouth, this time all of it, and not just the end, and I watched her sucking it. She pulled my hair with her fingers, and she pulled the skin of my scrotum, and she moved her head up and down while she was sucking. Sometimes she took it out of her mouth and put the end against her face, and it kept getting redder and redder until it was almost blue. Her tits hung down with the tips like big drops of blood ready to drip from them. I put my hands under them and slid them up and down; the nipples were smooth sliding on the palms of my hands, and Ruth sucked harder when I did that to them. I couldn't get it out of my mind, the thought that probably as late as that afternoon she had been going down on a bunch of pansies.
“What in hell did they do that you could stay with Toby for so long? Do they give honey when you suck them off?” I said.
“Do you want to know?”
“No,” I said. “I want to shoot in your damn little cock sucking mouth.”
I put my legs around her and I dragged her down and held her head. Then I shot, all of it, until she was choking and sucking and swallowing all at the same time. When it was over she was gasping for breath.
I got up and got a glass of water. Now that what I had had to drink at Uncle's was wearing off I was thirsty and I was hungry, and the water was too warm, no matter how long I let it run. I took a glass of water back to the bedroom for Ruth. She was lying with her head in the pillows, and at first I thought that she was crying.
“Do you want to go out and have something to eat after a while?” I asked her.
“I'd never be hungry enough to put those wet clothes on,” she said. “You go. I'll stay here.”
I looked out of the window at the rain pouring into the street and running black along the curbs, and I decided that I wasn't hungry enough to go out into that. I sat on the bed and Ruth moved over to let me lie down next to her. When I did she held my prick in one hand and started to talk to me.
“I found out something about Toby,” she said. “You know those caricatures he does on tablecloths and at parties? I found out that he practices them first, and if you want him to do one he hasn't practiced he can't do it.”
“Shut up about Toby. I'm sorry I acted that way.”
“That was all right,” she said. “But will you be able to get another one so we can jazz?”
“Don't you ever think of anything else?”
“I do afterward, but right now I can't.”
I rolled onto her. My legs were between hers, and she was still holding my prick. She put it against her cunt. It wasn't hard at all, but it felt good to have her hold it there and rub it in her hair.
“You don't care about my cunt,” she said. “And if I wanted you to play with my tits you'd want to do something else.”
I left her tits alone and put my fingers down with hers. Everything was wet down there, and her cunt was hot.
“You have a good cunt. You have everything good, but I'm not to be jazzed. I've been that way for two months.”
“You're being maudlin,” she said, “and I don't believe you, either.”
“It wasn't the same,” I said.
“Poor darling,” she said, “have you been going with whores again? Won't you ever learn that it isn't any good that way? I'd rather have you jerk off than go with whores.”
“I haven't been going with whores. I went to bed with the same ones I went to bed with when you were here. Oh, yes: and one new one. But it wasn't the same.”
“Your cock is getting bigger. Is it because you're thinking about the new one? Who is she? Do I know her?”
“I wasn't thinking about her, and I don't know who she was. I only saw her once. I went to see Stanley and she was there with him. I don't think he knows who she is, but I'll ask him next time I see him, if you think I ought to.”
My prick continued to get hard, and when it was straight Ruth pushed my fingers away from her cunt and put the end of my prick where I had had two of them. I poked it up into her and started to jazz her.
“If you hadn't told me I might have believed you,” she said. “About the two months. You act as though it might have been that way.”
I pulled my cock out of her and it was straight up, and red and big. She grabbed it and held it for a minute and then I speared her again and she said 'oh' and closed her eyes, not exactly smiling, but showing her teeth; and I wondered how many times before this that had happened. It was all familiar, but I couldn't remember any one time that it had been just like that.
“My mother wanted me to be a lady,” she said, “and now look at me. I spend most of my time looking at somebody's ceiling. Do you think there's really any future in this?”
“The future almost caught up with me that time. If you're going to talk I won't bother to wait for you again.”
“If you shoot before I'm ready I'll cut your heart out… But a man who would do that wouldn't have any heart, would he?… Then I'd cut your balls off.”
“I'm not appreciating you,” I said.
Ruth got her feet in between my knees and yanked herself against me.
“Your god damn balls don't have anything in them anyway. You don't appreciate brilliant conversation and you don't appreciate a good jazzing. What are you good for? Don't tell me you're a writer?”
“Balls on this,” I said. “I'm going in on the couch and get some sleep.”
“I'll show you how I can really hump, then. Bury it. That's right. Don't look so funny: it isn't going to come out my ears.”
“Something is liable to come out of your ears when I shoot. It has to go someplace.”
“My belly's big enough to hold it. You can't fill it up. There isn't enough jism in the world to fill my belly tonight.”
“I'll fill it with cock.”
“One cock couldn't do that, either. Three might; three if they were big ones.”
“You never had three in you. Not all in your cunt at once.”
“I've had two,” she said. “You've seen me do that yourself.”
“I suppose you're proud of that. That's a hell of a thing to be proud of.”
She wormed her belly over mine and shook her tits in my face.
“I was respectably inhibited until you got me,” she said. “Everything I am today I owe to my good friend Bill and total abstinence from abstinence.”
I ploughed her, liking the hotness between her legs, and the feel of her legs holding me. I gave her everything, wishing it could be like that forever, but knowing that every time I shot my prick forward I was that
