“Come on, Sandy, sit in my lap.”
She brought her dish around while I manipulated my stiffening cock against my abdomen so she wouldn't crush it. She sat down in my lap and I laid my hand in hers. She scooped up a big spoonful 9f strawberries and cream, told me to shut my eyes, and placed it in my open mouth. I closed my mouth on the spoon and sucked as she pulled the spoon out.
I purred my pleasure as I chewed and swallowed the sweet pulpiness.
“You're dripping,” Sandy said, and darted her tongue across my chin.
She fed me the entire dish in this way, and then we shifted positions-I sat in her lap and fed her.
Grandma looked on dotingly and sighed. “You children are so lovely,” she said. “So many of our youngsters today grow up too quickly. It's so nice to see young people clinging to their innocence.”
Sandy, who had laid her hand in my lap, clung firmly to my innocence.
FIVE
When the meal was over, when we had licked the last of our dessert from the dishes-dishes drastically less interesting than the ones from which we had eaten before-Sandy and Grandma started to clean up and I took off for my room.
Away from Sandy for the first time since I had woken up, I realized how tired I was, how much energy I had expended in our uninhibited pursuit of the joys of love.
I stripped off my clothes. I smelled my body. It smelled of Sandy's aphrodisiac odor. The scent itself excited me. I thought that if you could bottle her body odor you could sell it for a million dollars an ounce.
I lay down. I played with myself casually and was amazed to feel how ready I was-after all the workouts I had had that morning. I felt more hard-up now than I did when I woke up. If only I could take my mind off Sandy, for just a few minutes!
The room, southern exposure, was hot as hell. I felt like getting up and closing the shutters to block off some of the sun, but I was too tired, and besides, that would have eliminated whatever little breeze was forthcoming.
I sweated. I stopped playing with myself, putting my hands under my ass. This served a second purpose of preventing my now sweaty ass from sticking to the sheets and letting a little air circulate down there.
I fell asleep.
The jungle was very hot, even though it seemed to be morning. A steamy mist rose from the thick panoply of jungle flowers and dense, boa-draped verdure. Monkeys were chattering, lions were screaming, elephants were trampling, hyenas were laughing, but Tarzan was serious.
“Boy,” he said to me. Tarzan had a face that looked something like my father's, but a body that looked like Nureyev's. He wore a loin patch held up by a shoestring. “I want you take care Jane for me today. She still asleep inside.” He pointed to the little shelter in our tree hut high above the primeval jungle. “I must go to U.N. conference in village. You take care Jane. OK Boy?”
“OK, Tarzan,” I said, and he swung off on his vine into the jungle.
I started to tremble. I was alone with Jane for the first time. I couldn't even remember what she looked like. What would she think of me? I'd never been alone with her, it seemed. Tarzan must have kept us apart, jealous of us both. Plus, I was practically naked-all I wore was a loincloth smaller than Tarzan's, and I was outgrowing it.
Dazzling Jane emerged from the hut without noticing me and strolled to the other side of the platform. She held her leopard skin g-string in her hand but wore nothing. Her body was Sandy's, but her face-whose was it? — was my mother's.
She stretched languidly to the morning mist, her hands on her head, sticking out her coral-tipped breasts and arching out her pelvis so that, from the side, her pink-lipped clitoris was fondly silhouetted against the morning sky through the peachy thatch of her pubic bush.
She turned and saw me and said, “Oh,” casually draping her g-string across her privvy parts. “Boy!” she said, “I didn't know you were here! I hope I wasn't too-too provocative when I-” she wiggled her breasts around ”- stretched.”
“Oh, no,” I said, feeling my cock shoot up and push away the loin cloth. I crossed my legs in an effort towards false modesty and started to rub myself off between the thighs.
She walked up to me and I blushed when I found I couldn't take my eyes off her naked, shaking breasts.
“Where's Tarzan?” she asked.
“He went to the village.”
“What for?”
“U.N. conference.”
“When's he coming back?”
“I don't know,” I said, re-crossing my legs and shoving my stiffened prick between them.
“What did you just do, Boy?” she asked.
“I said Tarzan was at the U.N. He probably won't be back until late. Those things sometimes go on all night.”
“With your legs, though? What was that you did with your legs?”
“I was just crossing them.”
“Do it again.”
“Aw, come on, Jane, let me be.”
“Let's see.”
I uncrossed my legs and let my stiff prick point up the accusing finger of desire at her.
She passed across it teasingly with her g-string and didn't bother to cover herself again, letting the string part dangle across the red, throbbing head. “Oh, Boy,” she said, “you look better than Tarzan.”
“Don't say anything against Tarzan,” I admonished.
“Tarzan! That creep! He's such a prude. You'd think he was a boy scout or something. All he cares about are his goddamn apes and his U.N. conferences. He hasn't fucked me in years. I think he's making it with Cheetah.” She rolled her g-string into a ball and threw it against the wall of the hut. “The son of a bitch!”
Her face was looking more and more like my mother's and I was becoming more and more scared of the situation, embarrassed at my nudity and guilty for my blatant desire.
“Look, Jane,” I said, “let's go pick some mangoes.”
“Mangoes?”
“Yeah. You know, they taste pretty good.”
“I can think of better things to pick.”
“Come on, Jane, I haven't had any breakfast.”
“You can eat me.” She stepped up against me and started to breast-beat me.
“Gee whiz, Jane, what would Tarzan think if he heard you say something like that.”
“Fuck Tarzan.” 'Let's go eat some mangoes.”
“Where the hell are these mangoes?”
“Down in the mango grove.”
“It's so far!”
“No it's not. I know a shortcut.”
She pulled me into her but I maneuvered her, belly to belly, to the edge of the platform. I made the mistake of looking down. We must have been at least five miles over the jungle. The elephants looked like mice, pygmy mice. I was scared, but even more scared to let Jane know I was.
“Hang on to me,” I said, and grabbed a vine. She grabbed me around the neck and we took off.
“Boy, I really dig being naked against you- Tarzan always makes me wear that ratty old g-string.”
We were soaring high over the jungle. While Jane clamped her arms around my neck, she locked her legs around my thighs. I could feel the pressure of her wiry pubic hair rubbing against my prick, which was getting so unbearably hard I knew I'd have to stick it into something soft soon.
