fuck.'
After dinner they retired to another room for brandy and more talk. Still Stuart hardly paid Midge any attention. It put an unspoken damper on the evening's activities. Eventually Midge rose and excused herself.
Seeing that the evening had turned out to be a dud, Russell and his little friend did the same and left arm in arm, headed for the former's bedroom.
Lucille was puzzled.
'You didn't seem to find my friend very attractive,' she said.
'Quite the opposite. She's very beautiful. I just didn't feel like staffing an orgy down here in the living room.'
'You didn't?' Lucille asked, trying to keep the amazement out of her voice.
'No… that's why I stopped coming here in the first place. Russell probably told you I liked the living room bashes with twenty or more going at it, didn't he?'
'Uh… something to that effect,' Lucille said, cursing Russell in her mind for not giving her the full story. She was relieved, however, that there had been no big party, with a mass orgy that night. Had he met Midge in the middle of all that it could have posed a problem.
'Don't get me wrong,' he said, 'I like a lot of action with a lot of couples, but I like them one at a time more than I used to. See, I started feeling like a freak, or a circus performer in the middle of those parties. I'd be humping away on someone and the next thing I knew everyone else in the room had stopped what they were doing to watch me.'
Good God, thought Lucille, he's a super stud with a super cock and he actually digs the love scene in sex! Now she knew what he had been talking about upstairs in the bedroom.
'Well,' she said, rising and stretching, forcing her breasts to bulge above her dress invitingly, 'me for bed.'
'Yeah, me too,' he said.
They walked up the stairs together. At her door he pecked her on the cheek and said goodnight.
'Want some company?' she asked.
'Would you be mad if I said no?' he replied.
'No,' she said, and smiled as she eased into her room. She heard his footsteps retreat down the hall.
The room was empty. Quickly she crossed to the connecting door leading to the adjoining bedroom. Midge was sitting on the bed, her head so low that it was nearly resting on her tits. She wore the top of a see-through nightgown and nothing beneath it.
'What's the matter with you?' Lucille asked.
'He wants me to come to his room after everyone else has gone to bed,' Midge replied, not lifting her head.
'Who does?'
'He says he does… Stuart.'
'How do you know that? He didn't say ten words to you all night long.'
'He slipped me a note under the table during dinner.'
'Well I'll be damned!' Lucille said, erupting in laughter. 'That sneaky bastard!'
'I don't want to go.'
'What?'
'I don't want to go,' Midge said as she stood and faced Lucille.
The woman was stunned by the defiance in Midge's voice and the hard look of determination on her face.
'You're crazy. This is what we've been planning for… of course you'll go.'
'I'll feel like a whore,' Midge said, biting her lip to hold back the tears she felt brimming at the corners of her eyes.
'Bullshit!' Lucille cried. 'You are a whore. We're all whores. So is he. Now get your ass in there!'
Midge didn't want to tell her the truth. She didn't want to tell her that she really did want to go to Stuart's room, but she was afraid that if she did her head would be fucked up for good. There was something about his eyes, the way he looked at her and the way his body moved, and the way he spoke. It was as if she had known him before. And she had, all her life, in her dreams. The minute she met him she knew that he was the combination of all the men she had ever been with and more. Midge felt she had something with Lucille, that she, at last, was able to feel something for someone, and care that she did feel. If she went to bed with Stuart Jessup she guessed that she would then begin to feel too much, become too confused, ha back where she was.
'Are you going?' Lucille said. 'Because if you're not, you can pack your little knapsack and get the fuck out of here.'
She nodded and walked out of the room.
Stuart was only seconds in the room before he was out of his clothes. He threw after shave on his face and his shoulders with shaking hands like a kid on his first date.
She was beautiful, with a body that made his skin ripple just being in the same room with her. And there was more to her than a cunt. He sensed it, but he somehow also knew it.
Thinking about her caused more than just a hardening of his cock-his fingertips tingled, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck lifted, his scalp sweated.
He almost ran to the door when he heard the light tap, then stopped. He moved back to the bed and pulled a robe over his nakedness. His hand was on the knob again before it dawned on him: 'My God, I must have it bad. Since when, in my whole Goddamn life, have I ever worried about what anybody else thought? Much less some cunt I've just met?'
He opened the door and stood back. She walked right by him to the center of the room, turned, and slipped the nightie over her head. Dropping it from her hand she raised her head, fluffed her hair with steady hands, and squarely met his eyes with her own.
He shut the door behind him, locked it, something else he had never done before in his life, and dropped his own robe to the floor. He didn't move to her at once but stood, staring, his eyes taking in all of her at once.
He knew at once that no woman he had ever had compared to this one. A thick mass of long blonde hair framed one of the most sexual faces he'd ever seen on a woman. Her face was sharp, almost too much so. But her smooth, glowing beauty was only accentuated by the sharpness. Her smoldering eyes held invitation, the invitation being for more than just a bout in bed.
She was just tall enough, with a figure that was overwhelmingly lush. Full tits stood erect, nipples hardened.
The mound of her cunt was too pronounced, but that only made it more exciting. Her pussy was wide, and its gleaming lips showed she was already in a high state of sexual excitement. Stu could almost smell the tang of her cunt, open and crying for his hardening cock.
Midge stared at the huge cock hanging between his legs. And, as it grew, she remembered the last night under her father's roof. She remembered the momentary joy she had received from his long staff as she had sat atop him and rammed it far up inside her, telling herself that night that she would again find that in a man. And, now, she stood staring directly at it.
She raised her eyes and stared directly into his handsome face. His eyes seemed to reflect hers like two deep pools. There was, in his face, a pure animalism that told how easy it would be to lose oneself in a man like him. How a woman could spend her life crawling after him, wanting him so desperately that merely his presence would suffice.
Not a word passed between them as he picked her easily from the floor and deposited her on the bed. He stroked his cock, nearly crying with the sheer beauty of her body. She was lying on her stomach, her long legs spread wide. He knelt on the bed and crawled up between her legs. He smelled her scent and closed his eyes, inhaling again, more deeply.
Deftly, he buried his nose in the divide of her asscheeks. He loved the warm, rich, womanly smell that he found there, and she spread her legs a little wider to show him that she liked him being there.
He slid his tongue up and down her ass, and then into the crease, liking the way her puckered anus massaged each taste bud of his tongue. He moved his tongue into the slit of her cunt and then back up to tenderly insert it into her asshole.
