water was leaking from her ass, Margot told me to refill the bag, and she again shoved the nozzle up her ass, along with a foot or so of the hose. She told me to bend down into the tub and put my mouth on her cunt.
Without thinking about the bizarre nature of the scene, I did as she asked, and as my mouth covered Margot's cunt and began licking her wildly, I couldn't help but place a free hand on my own throbbing pussy, and I began finger-fucking myself, feeling as though I were about to discharge a quart of cunt juice.
It only took Margot about thirty seconds before her cunt started literally foaming in my mouth. As her body shook in the final throes of orgasm, water shot from her asshole and sprayed against the tub walls, splashing in a sparkling cascade.
Margot heaved a satisfied moan, and told me it was my turn now. It was too late to turn back now. I lay back in the tub, and she brought the nozzle between my parted thighs and plunged it into my waiting asshole.
Margot shoved the hose up my pliant ass, and as it passed a certain point, I could feel my clit start to stiffen, and then Margot's hungry mouth was aver it, sharply licking it with her lance of a tongue.
Suddenly my ass was spurting water, and I felt as tough my cunt was on fire as Margot kept fanning the flames with her hot tongue. Then I got the most incredible feeling, one I'd never felt before and still can't adequately describe. My hips jerked uncontrollably and the nozzle spurted from my ass with a shimmering burst of water. At the same time, Margot was eating me so hard that I had the sensation that ha head was halfway up my cunt and her tongue was licking the inside of my womb as we grappled together in the slick tub.
When it was finally over, we both got out of the tub and washed each other off. I still hadn't said anything, and was now at the paint of physical exhaustion.. Margot seemed to sense this as she led me back to the bed and helped me into it. Then she tucked me in as though I were a little girl again, and kissed me good night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next morning, when I awoke around ten, the impact of what had happened the night before hit me the second I opened my eyes. The sun shone brightly through one of the windows, bathing the room in its cheerful brightness as though nothing as sinister as what had happened just a few hours before could have taken place in such an environment.
As much as I was shocked by what we had done, I was at least equally as concerned about how I was going to handle Margot from here on in. What should I say to her? Should I say nothing about it, and go on just as if it hadn't happened? Or should I let her know that it was never going to happen again? Or the third alternative: Should I let Margot know that I was willing to engage in more of the same if she was?
The fact that I even considered the third possibility shook me. Could I have possibly enjoyed engaging in the most vile of sex acts with my own mother? A brutally honest voice in the back of my mind insistently reminded me that, indeed, I had. I couldn't help but recall the excruciating sensation of the hot soapy water filling my ass to the point of bursting, and then the delicious release of a torrent exploding out of my ass while Margot expertly ate my cunt. No amount of moralizing was ever going to erase the intense pleasure of the previous night from my consciousness.
Finally I got out of bed and dressed, still not being sure what I was going to do, how I was going to handle the confrontation with Margot. However, when I emerged from the bedroom I saw that my problem had been temporarily solved because Margot had obviously left the apartment. I soon saw a note propped up on the kitchen table against the salt and pepper shaken. In Margot's handwriting, it read, 'You were asleep after last night's strenuous exercise, ha ha, so I didn't wake you. Wish I could have slept in, too, but I'm a working girl. See you tonight. Margot.'
So Margot wasn't going to be shy about what had happened. The mere thought of her lewd behavior caused a prickly sensation in my cunt, a sort of erotic apprehension that was not at all unpleasant. I found myself dropping my hand to my pussy and running over it absent-mindedly as I wandered over to the refrigerator, thinking about getting something to eat. The image of food, however, failed to materialize in my mind as it usually would in the morning. Instead, I found myself with pictures of drooling, open cunts racing through my mind, interspersed with a perfectly pink asshole, like Margot's, spewing water.
As the moisture oozed from my cunt, I placed my hand under my skirt and found the crotch of my panties drenched. There was only one thing to do or I'd be out of it all day like this, I thought. I slid my trembling hand down under the elastic band of my panties and began to finger my cunt, rubbing my erect clitoris vigorously. An orgasm came after only a few seconds I was so worked up, and as the spasms moved up and down my body and then gradually faded, I felt a certain amount of clearness coming into my head at last.
Now I was better able to concentrate on the more immediate business at hand. The first item on my agenda was to go out and look for a job. I made myself a quick breakfast, and settled down with a cup of coffee at the kitchen table and began to study the classified ads in the morning paper which Margot had left for me.
The job market was tight and the ads weren't promising. I was only too aware that I didn't have an abundance of marketable skills, and was apprehensive about having to use my looks to wrangle my way into a position somewhere.
It was hot in the city that day, and I must have walked my feet off making the rounds to the various banks, insurance companies, offices, and so forth, that had advertised for help. Unfortunately, for me, the help they wanted was always for somebody with experience at operating this machine, or being familiar with that kind bookkeeping system, or any one of a number of different skills I didn't have. I would have been content to go back to work in a warehouse, but none were advertising. By the time it was four o'clock, I could see I was never going to get any place the way I was going, and that I would have to try for something a little less orthodox if I was going to start earning my own way again.
There was a series of ads near the end of the help-wanted section all reading pretty much the same, something like, 'Exotic Dancers Wanted. Over Eighteen. No Experience Necessary.' I was eighteen, and had identification that said I was much older. I had no illusions about what kind of dancing was wanted, but I was desperately in need of money.
I selected one of the ads that seemed to be for a place within walking distance. After taking a left turn, walking three blocks, and turning right, I saw the place in the middle of the block. The building had a garish facade done up in red and silver with a neon sign that was flashing even in the middle of the day, advertising the name of the place as Count Porno's Lounge. My better judgment warned me against going inside, but the thought of my financial situation propelled me toward the door.
Holding my breath, I pushed open the door and went inside, hearing it swinging behind me, sealing me inside a smoky roam that was so dark I had trouble making out any detail. When I did I saw that it looked like a standard barroom, with a gleaming jukebox, pinball machines, cigarette machine, a bar and booths. The only thing unusual was that there was a raised platform in the middle of the room. I quickly figured out that that was where the dancers performed. There was nothing going on now since, apparently, it was the slow time of the day. Just one man sat at the bar.
I walked over to the barmaid, who was dressed in the briefest of bikinis. 'I'm looking for, uh, Count Porno.' I felt like a fool actually saying such a ridiculous name.
'Hi ya, sweetie,' the man at the bar said, looking up at me, his intent gaze seeming to undress me. 'I'm the man you're looking for.'
It turned out that Count Porno was a short, fat, bald guy who quickly informed me that his real name was Harry. I was prepared for anything just by virtue of the fact that I was actually inside a place such as this, but it was still a shock when the man said, 'Okay, doll, take off your clothes and let's see what you've got.' I wasn't going to do it, but when he added, 'Look, doll, if I like your body you'll get one twenty-five a week,' I reconsidered.
'All right,' I whispered, 'I'll do it.' I began slowly peeling off my outer garments. As each thing came off and a new part of my body was exposed, he made some sort of vulgar comment. When I reluctantly stepped out of my parties he said, 'Oh, and you're a real blonde! This is Count Porno's lucky day!'
I turned red all over in both embarrassment and anger, and grabbing at my clothes to hide my body from him, I was just ready to tell him what he could do with his one twenty-five a week when he said, 'Say, listen, for that I'll give you one fifty a week, and I don't care if you can dance a step. We don't get many real blondes in here.'
I was defeated by my own need, and perhaps greed, and muttered, 'Okay.'
