The negligee clung caressingly to every curve and contour. Sex appeal oozed from her creamy body, making it difficult for me to hold my desire in check. But there was a job to do; what choice did a poor frustrated girl have? Worse yet, it was bound to get harder as I went along. Even the very first whiff from the uncapped bottle sent me into a daze of misty intoxication. I persevered bravely, though, dabbing the musk-tinged stuff on her neck and ears with an accurate if somewhat shaky fingertip. It was only when I opened the negligee to get at her breasts that the task suddenly became impossible. But again I made the effort, rushing to get it over with now, touching her nipples fleetingly one after the other.
'What's your hurry, kid? You don't like my tits? Come on, pay a little attention to them, do it right, put some more on as if you meant it.'
My apology became a mumble as I realized the significance of her drily voiced request. Maybe sex-of a sort, at least-wasn't exactly taboo. I slowed down this time, adding another generous dab and then rubbing it in with all five fingers bunched around the nipple. It stiffened to my touch, a breathtaking reaction, and now I simply couldn't resist the urge to cup the entire mound in my hand and put my lips to the swollen peak. I sucked instinctively and circled it with a pointed tongue-tip, moaning as the mingled taste and scent seemed to coalesce into one inseparable unit that in turn made my mouth and nose a single sensory organ. And soon my tongue flattened and began lapping of its own volition, an inherently designed caress that drew a tremor of obvious delight in response. I was on the right track, sure enough. Inspired now, I moved back and forth from one nipple to the other and at last plunged between them like a snorting and snuffling little animal, helpless in the grip of my own wild excitement: Her big breasts cushioned my head, cradling my flushed face in their incomparably receptive softness and cajoling me into a frenzy of amorous gratitude.
'Baby, you get better all the time. Oooh, the way you go for my tits! Like you went for my cunt. And like you'll probably go for my ass one of these days, huh?'
I shuddered. How sure of herself this woman was, how completely oblivious to the possibility of an objection; oh, if only she had sounded speculative, if only her voice had wavered just a little! But this implacable attitude of hers sapped my strength, my will, my self-confidence, leaving only a submissive young pseudo-lesbian who would probably do it right on cue. Go for her ass…
When the command finally came, I had conditioned my mind and was ready for it. Even a trifle eager, perhaps-to get it over with and end the suspense, I told myself. And yet, all to often, I had noticed and paid special heed to that nicely defined but still veiled backside through her skirt or negligee or whatever she happened to be wearing. The heavy but well-proportioned haunches, swaying with every step. The big buttocks jutting out behind, identical twins, perfectly matched. And always a hint of that dark vertical trench down the middle, an illusion of mystery. Never naked, though, since she seemed averse to running around without something on, and I only got to see the front side undraped, never the rear. That made me curious, naturally-another reason for my eagerness, quite logical-but I could also recall licking my lips unconsciously during those moments of intense observation. Wasn't there some unexplored significance in that?
No matter. The suspense was about to end. In the lamplight, right here on the bed we shared each night- the unveiling had already occurred, now it was up to me. The domed buttocks lacked nipples and had a deeper cleavage, but I couldn't help making a comparison with her bosom. An unfortunate comparison, as it turned out, now that I had buried my face between her breasts and found nothing mysterious, no sign of anything sinister. How could I reconcile that with this? A tongue is such a personal thing; did she really expect me to risk mine in that unknown darkness? Wasn't it a case of carrying a soul kiss too far? Shit! All that self-conditioning and I still wasn't ready.
'Little one? Isn't this what you've been waiting for?'
A real loud gutsy command might have done more good. Without it, I made just a tentative pass, a couple of browsing kisses that weren't unpleasant at all. But by the same token, neither were they going to satisfy anybody.
'Come on, kid, live dangerously. You loved my cunt. You loved my tits. What makes you think you won't love my ass?'
'Ummm… '
'You trying to tease me? Lick it, lick it, get right down into the crack and give it a good lick. Yeah. You're waking up, huh? It isn't so bad, is it? Get in deep-no, not all soft and mushy!-it's got to be stiff, a real stiff tongue so you can fuck me, you hear? Fuck me in the ass! Shoot that tongue right up my asshole and fuck me good!'
Much as I hated to admit it, Lizabeth was right again. I loved her cunt. I loved her tits. And now, how I loved her ass! It was as if I had wallowed in the shameful trough of my submission and rooted out a cluster of long lost priceless jewels. All I had to do now was lick them clean…
Was she still asleep? So it appeared. But there were signs of restlessness now; our last night together was ending. The wild weekend was over-except for right now, of course, and what better way to end it than this?
A familiar taste, sure enough. Familiar hair familiar vulva, familiar clitoris. I might not over suck this cunt again, but it would never fade from my memory. Would my sucking mouth ever fade from hers? I hoped not. But this last embrace, this last sweet plunge between these creamy thighs, well, I was doing it for myself alone-oh, you cunt lapper!-a secret to treasure forever…
From somewhere in the distance, a sigh sounded. Lizabeth was awake. Her quivery legs were getting tense. A hand was stroking the back of my neck. And I was lost. Lost in the feeling of moistness and the fragrance of musk. Lost in adoration of this woman who had shown me the beauty of a lost weekend. I barely heard the sob of fulfillment that she uttered.
Then-for a long time-there was no sound. No motion. Until a throaty whisper penetrated the silence and broke the spell and brought us back to the world of reality.
'Kid? That was the last one.'
'Uh-huh.'
'I'll miss you. Will you miss me?'
'Of course. You know I'll miss you.'
'Good. I like that. And what will you miss most?'
'Uh, well… you know… '
'Tell me.'
'Your cunt.'
'That's all? Just my cunt?'
'I'll miss your tits.'
'That's better. And what else?'
'Your ass.'
'Glad to hear it. But how about the little hole that just loves your pretty pink tongue? Won't you miss that?'
'Oh, I will, I'll miss your ass hole, I'll miss your-'
'Okay, okay. Kid, we'll have to stay in touch, you know? I'll let you know where I am from time to time. And you do the same for me, will you? The way the two of us got along, maybe we ought to be lifelong buddies, right?'
'Uh-huh. Lifelong buddies… '
Chapter 15
Funny. I hadn't bothered to ask Florinda anything about the reason for her trip out of town, assuming that it was some sort of family deal. Nor had she bothered to tell me for what turned out to be an obvious reason.. She came back two days late and bubbling over with news, good news for herself, not so good for me. Her trip had been to the big city for an interview with one of the corporate foundations, the kind that shell out money for scholarships and research grants and such. A successful interview, as it turned out, she had won a grant to go and study the dramatic arts in Europe.
And so, except for what little remained of the school year, I saw no more of Florinda Brokaw. Nor did I have her apartment to look forward to in my second year, no longer subject to the rule that prohibited freshmen girls
