cocks in my… pussy.'
He swallowed heavily, and the tempo of his hand picked up slightly. 'Do you like to suck cocks? Drink sperm?'
The pleasure grew more intense, and I groaned. 'Yes, yes… I do. Sperm tastes hot in your mouth, did you know that? They say it doesn't have any taste, but that's not so. It tastes… hot. Salty. It's like when you lick a sweaty body… that kind of a taste.'
My thighs began to quiver, and sweat began to collect between my breasts. My back and arm ached from the strain, but the intensity of the pleasure kept me from stopping, or even slowing my pace. I was no longer an unwilling pawn, I realized. I was participating. And what's more, I was enjoying it.
'Do you know what I discovered the.first time a man shot his come in my mouth?' I asked, remembering Ralph.
Benson grunted. He smiled. He stroked himself. 'No… what?'
'I found that all.those fuck books tell lies… sperm doesn't gush or shoot from the tip of a man's cock. It sort of… /oozes out… slow and steady.'
He was stroking^imself deeply now, from the base of his cock down to the tip, then back.again. He was leaning heavily against the massage table, with his legs straight out in front of him, stiff and straining.
'I didn't… know that,' he said, grunting with pleasure. 'That's good… very good.'
I could feel the thick pasty discharge of my excitement running down my inner thighs. My hips were bent out, tipped towards him, almost parallel to his cock. It was as though we were fucking, three feet apart, without ever once having touched each other.
'I am a very horny woman,' I confessed. 'Although most of the time while I was married I was faithful to my husband. But I've always been fend of… preoccupied with sex, and I used to do… strange things.'
His cock was almost stark white, colorless, and it bobbled stiffly as he jerked it off. 'Like what, for example.'
'I used to masturbate a great deal,' I confessed. 'I guess a lot of women do… home alone all day in a big empty house… waiting for your husband to come home. You know there is only so much house work you can do…'
'Tell me about that,' he grunted. 'Tell me about the times you… jerked yourself off.'
Sweat was dripping into my mouth, and I licked it away with my tongue. 'Most of the times I did it the regular,.. normal way. You know… on the bed, or in the bathroom, with iny feet up on the edge of the tub… But sometimes… sometimes I did it differently.' 'How?' he asked tensely. 'How?'
'I used to practice… shooing things into my cunt. You know like pencils or hairbrush handles… Then I began to use larger things… like carrots or bananas… I tried a cucumber once, but it was too wide…'
He was grunting as if he were straining. 'Good… goodl I can… see it. In my mind…'
'Once I shoved a bottle of warm soda up my cunt… I shook the bottle first… then squatted down on it… sinking it into my pussy. The gas in the soda bubbled over,.. violently, furiously… and gushed out into my cunt. It was like a thousand cocks all coming at the same time.., It was… wild. I could feel the bubbles… the foam… inside of me. I came from just doing that.'
Benson's hand was moving rapidly now. He wiped the sweat off of his face with his free hand. 'Good… more! More!'
My back was breaking, and my forearm felt like it was going to cramp. But there was a fire in my cunt, a very real, very hot fire. I didn't want to stop.
I strained my brain to remember all the vile, all the obscene sexual things I've ever done in my Me. I dredged them up, welled them up from the forgotten corners of my memory, and exposed them, vomited them out all over my perverse, straining nakedness.
'Once,' I said, between groans of pleasure, 'once I was very hot… very horny, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted to do something special… something dirty.'
'What?' he groaned, wringing his cock with his hand. 'What did you do?'
'I took all my clothing off,' I said, remembering, feeling the shame flush my face, burning like my roaring passion until I couldn't tell one from the other. 'I lay down on my bed… picked up the telephone… and made an obscene telephone call to a man.'
'Oh Godl' Benson moaned. Sweat had soaked through his dark shirt. 'Tell me about it, Sally. Tett me about it!'
'I kept on dialing until I got a man… and then I began to talk dirty to him. I told him what I was doing. I told him I wanted to fuck him. I made him tell me how big… how long his cock was… And all the while I was talking, I was masturbating myself.' 'What… then? What happened then?'
'I made a date with him to meet him… so he could fuck me. I could hear him getting very excited. I began to fantasize about him in my mind. And then I began to come.'
'Yes… yes… yes?' His voice kept on getting higher and higher and higer,
'And then… then the worst part.' I moaned in shame, in passion. 'Oh, I can't tell you, it's too… too-' 'Tell me, Sally. Please… tell mer
'And then… when I was coming… when I was coming, I took the phone… the receiver… and pushed it up against my cunt… came all over it… while he was listening… My cunt … my coming cunt, all over the telephone receiver… trying to push it up inside of me!'
'My… God!' I saw Benson's body tremble. His pumping hand was a blur. 'Did you keep your date with him? The man on the phone? Did you fuck with him, Sally?'
I was using the heel of my hand now, pressing it hard against my cunt because my fingers kept slipping off. I dug in hard, pressing down with my wrist, grinding the wet folds of my cunt against the blunt hardness. There was a knot of excitement in the pit of my stomach, and I began to concentrate on it, surprised that I was so close to orgasm.
'No… no,' I said, shaking my head. 'I went there… to the place where I was supposed to meet him. I saw him even. He was young… very good-looking. I saw that he had a hardon through his pants. But I chickened out… I got cold feet. I went home and masturbated again. I had an unbelievable orgasm. Fantastic one.'
He moaned in disappointment. 'You should have, Sally,' he groaned, shaking his head. 'You should have fucked him!'
I swayed from side to side, my knees weak, my thighs like quivering jello. 'I wanted to… but… but-'
'More, Sally, more!' he cried. He was getting close himself, I could tell. 'Tell me more… dirtier things.'
Pleasure began to course up and down my body, from my feet rooted like trees in the blue rug, up through my straining, sweating body, and exploding into my head. My body began to prepare for an orgasm.
I used to do crazy things sometimes… Like go shopping in a skirt and not wear panties… Purposely not wear them because I found it exciting,.. sexually exciting. I used to fantasize that someone… some man might accidentally see up my skirt… see my naked cunt.'
'I can see your naked cunt, Sally!' Benson cried, staring at it, jerking off violently. 'I can see your cunt, Sally!'
I began to groan, closing my eyes because the pleasure inside of me was too sharp, too glaring, too bright. I closed my mouth, I shut my eyes, I held my breath, I tensed my muscles: it was as if I were trying to contain the pleasure, prevent it from escaping, giving it a chance to build up high enough, vol-atilely enough, like the bottle of soda I once shoved into my pussy, so that it would gush up inside of me and bring on my orgasm.
A memory, a long forgotten, long forbidden memory came suddenly back to me. It startled me with its vividness, with its perversity. My cunt began to quiver excitedly. It was something I've never told anyone in my life. Not anyone. Not even Peter.
'Once,' I said, straining my hand against my cunt, 'once I did something on the subway.,, in New York City.' Benson moaned: 'Soon, soon!'
'You know how crowded it is on the subways… how some men like to take advantage of the crowds… by brushing up against women… by grabbing their cunts or ass or tits…' 'Yes… yesl' he moaned. 'Yes!'
'Once… when I was young… about nineteen… I used to get excited when that happened to me… sexually excited. Aroused very… very much.'
'Soon, soon!' he grunted, pulling his rigid cock violently. 'Soon/'
I fought against my own pleasure, tried to delay it, hold it back until the last possible moment. I fought to
