Then maybe we'll add a meeting for Wednesday nights. Let's see how it goes first.'
'Your girlfriend was the only one disappointed Saturday night,' said Ed Cramer. 'Says you ignored her and she didn't get any of the fun.'
'She's not my fuckin' girlfriend,' Tom snapped back. 'I used to take her out once in a while. That's all. And shit… who wants to fuck that skinny beast anyway?'
'Nobody else complained,' Jay said, throwing out his chest with a bit of arrogance. 'Not with 'The Kid' there to service them. They don't call me 'The German Oak' for nothing.'
They all laughed at that, accepting the statement as part of the privilege of being a member.
'Don't you guys go shooting off your mouths about our parties,' Tom Dunn got serious. 'We'll have the fuckin' cops raiding us, or some jerks trying to crash in. Just keep it quiet.'
'That's right,' Charles added with a touch of nervousness showing.
'Hey look…' Ed said, 'who wants anybody else getting in on the act? Broads, okay, but not guys. The next thing you know you're competing. And I say we've got a good thing going – so let them get their own ass.'
The others agreed wholeheartedly.
They were sitting on mattresses they had positioned around the walls of the store. Tom got up to get another beer and added, for emphasis, 'Then don't go bragging to anybody or you'll blow the whole thing.'
He returned with bottles for everyone, amazing them with his sudden generosity and thoughtfulness. Then they realized they had all changed. Each one had become friendlier, more cooperative, with a much happier outlook.
'Are you going to invite Margaret Leche again?' Ed asked. 'She gives me the creeps.'
'I wasn't going to. I figured I'd drop her and her sister after the first meeting – Lillian too, but they were the first to pay their dues for this week. What could I say?'
'Who cares?' Jay defended the action. 'The more broads the better. You've got to have a few in the bullpen just in case.'
That made sense to Ed, noticing the change in Jay had been for the better too. Jay was getting smarter, he decided.
'There's a few things you should know, Tom,' said Charles. 'In a Black Mass ritual, the Lord's Prayer is not only said with words backwards; the entire prayer is reversed. You start with 'Amen' – or 'Nema' – and end with 'Our'. I've been reading up on it.'
'Who gives a shit!' Tom exploded.
'Well, I… just thought you'd like to know.'
'What do I look like, the Pope?' Tom cut him off. 'We're only doing this to get laid – not to have a spiritual experience!'
'I know, but…' Charles tried to cover his need for perfection, while still trying to make his point, '… I just figured it would be more realistic.'
'Fuck it! I don't have time to go through Satan's seminary. Just sit back and enjoy the fun. Stop worrying about the services and start thinking about getting the broad you want.'
Jay and Ed agreed with Tom. Charles went back to thinking about his other problem; getting laid. He considered himself a virgin, since Kay was the only one he ever fucked and she didn't count because she was his sister. At the party he found himself so engrossed in what the others were doing he didn't get any for himself. Although, he recalled, he did come, watching Jay jam it into his sister, and again when he saw Tom and Cynthia in the sixty-nine position. But he wanted his own experience at the next party and had been making plans all week on how to go about it.
The second Black Mass was entered in the same manner as the first, only this time everyone was anxious to get started and not nearly as nervous. The three bells beckoned at eight-thirty and they filed into the dark store. The 'casket' wasn't replaced after Hans and Margaret collapsed it; just the lectern, the two black candles and Tom Dunn were visible.
When the room became silent, Tom started the ritual as before: 'Welcome, my brother and sisters, to Satan's Black Mass…' He sounded more relaxed, a bit more sinister. 'Let's all bow our heads and pray to the Angel of Evil… our beloved Satan.'
'Ruo rebtaf, ohw…' he chanted in a crisp, more practiced voice, obviously continuing his own version in defiance of Charles' suggestion. Once again he went through the ritual with the chalice, Margaret Leche giving him assistance. Then he returned to the lectern and gave a little sermon about how pleased they had all made Satan at the last mass. And their continued obedience would be rewarded. He switched on the blue and red spotlights, which were focused on a low platform at the foot of the lectern.
'Now I call the Devil's Virgin…' Tom announced. A puff of red smoke billowed up from the lectern and Stella's head seemed to materialize next to him. As he led her around to the platform the gathering looked from one to the other for a clue as to how he managed that little trick. They could see that she hadn't popped up from behind the lectern. Her head appeared so fast and from the neck up – definitely not the way it would happen if she just popped up. Tom had a difficult time containing his grin, pleased with their surprised faces.
Once on the platform and when the room became silent, Stella opened the clasp on her cape, letting it fall to her feet. Her body was all white from the dusting with talcum powder and once again the audience was entranced by her firm, just-developing body. They watched as Tom slowly ran his hands over the swells of her blossoming breasts, squeezing them gently to highlight the small, pointed nipples that hardened even more with his touch. He proceeded to slide his right hand down the front of her and his left hand down the back. The girl stood motionless, though apparently pleased with the feeling he gave her body. She spread her legs when his hand approached her downy fluff and he slid it between her legs, rubbing her sensually.
Margaret was the next to feel the girl all over, followed by Charles, who was visibly shaking when he touched Stella. But he didn't rush through the ceremony; he closed his eyes and drank in the delightful feel of her tight girl-flesh.
After each took a turn at feeling Stella, the chalice was passed around – this time Stella managed to get a drink – and then she proceeded to feel each of the participants in the gathering. Another passing of the chalice and again Stella insisted on participating in the wine ritual.
'Charles Krauss,' Tom announced gravely, 'please come forward.'
Charles wasn't prepared for this. He was expecting a repeat of the last service where a girl was brought out and used as the demonstration model. The nervousness showed as he took his place on the platform. It was worse when Tom Dunn removed his robe and he had nothing to do with his hands but drop them to his sides.
Tom reached over the lectern and switched on the bright white spotlight. Charles was mortified. They were all looking at his hard-on, he kept saying to himself, barely aware of what was going on around him.
'Sister Ann,' Tom was saying, which caught Charles' attention. He had been admiring Ed's cousin since the first party. Now all at once he was going to have to perform something – he didn't know what – in front of everyone.
'Since the penis is Satan's scepter, it is one of the most revered parts of the male anatomy,' Tom addressed the audience. 'Sister Ann will show her dedication to Satan by kissing his scepter.'
Ann smiled, walked up to Charles and knelt before him on the platform. Tom quickly went to them and rearranged them so Charles was facing sideways so the audience could see what Ann was doing.
The sight of Ann kneeling before him, her pretty face smiling up at him, sent Charles into a frenzy. His cock was throbbing and he knew the slightest touch would set off his orgasm. Taking a deep breath, he put all his concentration into holding back the climax, but watching her smiling face all the same. Probably the very thing that was making him come, he thought, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. Those sensuous, moist lips – that were smiling now – would soon pucker and kiss his cock… and the thought almost exploded the charge in his balls.
Ann puckered up, as he expected, and gave the ballooning head of his cock a soft, wet, tight-lipped kiss. As she moved away he could see a drop of come on her lips and his cock was dribbling a few drops on the floor. Ann licked her lips and smiled up at him again. Everyone else was dead silent, thoroughly captivated by the scene, which Ann played with such expertise.
Fear, tension and worry filled Charles' brain with distressing signals. What would Ann say when she found out he was dripping come? he worried. Have to hold it back, he told himself. Mustn't get it in her mouth. But Ann's lips were back on the head of his cock and he could see the white cream oozing out, right on those soft red lips. She licked the goo off her lips and went back for more. She licked all the come off his cock and then sucked it into her
