the reaction to how I felt about him, still his hands burned with a fire I had never experienced. He massaged my titties with strong fingers, and then he pinched my nipples.
“Mmmmmmm!” I moaned with pleasure.
I was ready for fucking right then, but Bruce was a lover. And that’s a lot different than a fucker.
He kissed me and he fondled me, he touched me and he teased me, until I was almost crazy with desire. When he finally put his finger into my cunt I had a juicy orgasm that made me groan with delight.
“Do it to me, Bruce! Oh please fuck me!”
Yet he kept me dangling.
Touch. Squeeze. Massage. Kiss.
I forgot he was somebody special and tried to attack him, but Bruce was a strong guy. He held me off while he put his leg up between my crotch. When I felt that manly flesh rubbing the lips of my cunt, I started to blubber with passion, but then he stuck his tongue in my ear.
I went berserk.
No matter how strong Bruce was, I needed a fuck right now, and I rolled him over in the bed to mount him with sexual ferocity.
“Not yet, Martha!” he forced me back again. “Not just yet, honey!”
I could have killed him.
It just wasn’t right for a guy to get a girl this worked up and then leave her dangling. I needed a pecker, and I needed it right now!
And that’s when a thought flashed though my mind. We got undressed in the dark and I never did see Bruce’s prick. While he got me so damn hot, I forgot all about messing around with him! Maybe he never even had a prick?
One deft thrust of my hand and I discovered he had one all right. A hard, stiff, ready-to-bust cock that felt just the right size.
“Stick it in me,” I begged. “For chrissakes, do it to me, Bruce!”
He did.
He got on top of me and kissed me frantically, then he inserted that tool between my legs.
“Yeeoooowww!” I screeched, coming instantly before it was halfway in. “Oooooooooooowwwwwww!”
Bruce had a nice cock, he fucked me long, he fucked me strong, and he made me a woman for a night. Then when it was over he kissed me and hugged me, and said endearing words until I fell asleep.
In the middle of the night I woke from a sexually satisfying dream to find that Bruce was fucking me doggy- fashion, silently, with all the fury at his command. I didn’t even move a muscle. I just lay there silently to enjoy a stolen fuck, and when he got me to orgasm again I fell asleep while he clung to me with a frantic effort to catch up on his fucking.
It was nice.
Real nice.
But there was a price to pay.
Next morning while we were having eggs and toast, Bruce started to talk about babies.
“You didn’t get me pregnant, Bruce,” I assured him while I poured coffee. “You’ve heard about the pill haven’t you?”
“A girl shouldn’t take those things,” he frowned as he buttered his toast. “It ain’t natural. Women were made to have babies.”
In the light of morning I saw Bruce for what he really was. A handsome guy, very sweet, but too serious. One of those throwbacks who try to cling out-dated morals.
I wanted to get rid of him.
Not that I didn’t like him, because I really did. A girl could easily fall in love with a nice guy like Bruce. Yet that’s a price I wasn’t ready to pay. All that stuff about families and marriage and bills was too much for me in the early light of day. So I just let him talk while we ate breakfast, and after that I made him give me a little fuck to start the day off right, and then I told him I had things to do today.
“But I wanted you to come and meet my family!” he protested.
That was a scene I could do without. So I told him I already had plans for the day. Except Bruce wasn’t that easy to get rid of. I finally convinced him to leave and told him I’d see him at work on Monday.
“Can’t I call you tomorrow, Martha?” he asked at the door. “You could go to church with my family and me.”
“Some other time, Bruce. I was going out to Coney Island tomorrow.”
When he was gone it felt like a weight had been lifted from my heart. Sure it was swell to have a guy all hopped up over you. It was flattering and the warmth of his desire made you feel valuable and needed. Yet it was smothering. Like I couldn’t breathe.
So I went back to my friends at the office, the ones who lived in this century of freedom and pleasure.
At first that wasn’t easy. Bruce hounded me every day and he carried on in front of my desk until I was embarrassed, so I finally asked Doreen to do something. She carried a lot of weight around the office and she used it quickly. She got Bruce’s supervisor to threaten him with his job if he didn’t leave me alone. Maybe that was cruel, but I couldn’t stand his smothering devotion, and the sooner he left me alone the sooner he would find a girl who believed his sunshine and roses routine.
Yet even a bad experience sometimes brings a measure of pleasure, and that’s what happened because of Bruce. As I mentioned he worked in the mail room and there were a lot of other people in that huge place. Gossip is strong in an office building so word got around about me and Bruce. Some of the workers came to take a peek at me, like I was some kind of freak who caused their co-worker all this heartache. And that’s how I got invited to the gang-bang.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Of course they didn’t call it that, but happy people know what’s happening, so I agreed to go along. I tried to get Doreen to come with us only she had a party set for her place in the Village, and Madelaine had a date to go up to one of those Harlem nightclubs, so I asked Jenny to come with me.
“I don’t like to go to parties alone,” I told her. “And we’ll have fun.”
Jenny had pimples on her face and she wore braces on her teeth which made her look fifteen.
But she was older than me and none of the men at the office paid much attention to her, so she was eager to go to the party.
“Where’s it gonna be, Martha? You sure they’ll let me come with you?”
“They asked me to bring some extra girls, Jenny. We’re supposed to be there by ten.”
“That’s kinda late, isn’t it?”
“That’s what Harlin told me.”
Harlin McAllister was on the board of directors for the company, and he had invited me through some of the people in the mail room. I’d never really met Harlin, but I did have a lot of respect for him. He was a handsome man about fifty and he wore a Van Dyke beard, white like his hair. He was always pleasant when he came through our offices and he never looked down on the workers the way some of the other big-wheels did. We were supposed to be at his place at ten like I told Jenny, and I was all excited about it. Harlin lived on Fifth Avenue in one of those expensive apartment buildings, and I had never seen the inside of one. I’d have given Harlin a little screw just to walk in the lobby of that sumptuous place.
Jenny and I took a cab up Fifth Avenue instead of tiding the subway. We told the doorman that Mr. Harlin was expecting us, only he didn’t believe it. Until he made a call upstairs and was told to let us in.
“So there!” Jenny stuck out her tongue at the doorman.
Inside the great white building even the walls looked like they cost a fortune. Magnificent paintings, thick red drapes, and a carpet that let you sink up to your ankles.
There was a desk clerk all dressed up like a jockey, and a security man who talked to us like we were meat being delivered at the wrong entrance. Still they told us to ride up to the sixteenth floor, which we did. There were
