crowd over the bandstand. 'Hey, you mother-fuckin buncha honkies, I'm the one to finish this job up. What you need here is some funky soul-type style?
Everybody turned toward the bandstand. The blacks in the crowd-there were forty or fifty-glanced back and forth at each other wondering who was this brother they didn't know. And then, from behind the curtains at the back of the bandstand, emerged-the fucking Guru.
'Ha-ha, I fooled ya!'
He leapt down into the crowd and pranced up to Joanna. 'I'm number 109-LeRoy Potachie by alias-and the 491st man to plow your cute little furrow tonight. But… ' he held up his hands as an inspiration passed over him… 'I will do it with style. You will be fucked intergalaetically! That, is from a distance. In short, I will ejaculate into the quivering essence of your echtitude from a sacred distance of three feet.'
'The No Touch Shot!' the crowd gasped. 'He's going to do it!' Suddenly this, already the high point of the cruise, became the highest possible point. They'd all been dying to see this.
'Please,' the Guru sniffed, holding his nose. 'The technical term is Thinking Off.'
'Thinking Off… Thinking Off… Thinking Off… ' The correction echoed to the edges of the crowd.
Andrea went up to Joanna as the Guru assumed the lotus position on the floor beneath her and someone brought a tape measure so the exact height at which she should be held could be determined. 'How do you feel on this historic occasion?'
'Like I've traded in my pussy for a target in a water-pistol range.'
'Ha. I'll bet you have some pretty heavy experiences before the old Guru's done.' She backed off and joined Sean and the others as a hush fell over the crowd.
From various points in the ballroom the Guru's followers took up the familiar chant,
'The Is Is Not, The Not Is Is, The No Touch Shot Will Never Fizz.'
They kept it up while Baalow Nee, all eyes riveted to him, took a last sighting on the target that hovered so invitingly above him and then closed his eyes. Joanna's cunt was hanging about six inches in front of his face. Her legs were held out straight and pointed one over each shoulder, so that she was facing him.
'It is my opinion,' he intoned, 'that everyone here should be fucking their brains out at this particular time. It will create favorable conditions on the emotional weather horizon.' With that he started to meditate.
Before Sean and Andrea could work out a position in which they could fuck and watch-which ended up featuring Andrea on her knees facing the action and Sean banging away at her from behind-the Guru's heretofore limp member had started to jerk erect in definite, almost mechanical stages.
'Reminds me of a bumper jack,' Sean observed.
The chanting of the Guru's followers turned abruptly to the same humming that Virginia and the Princess had used that night in Sean's apartment, only now its effect was multiplied and even more electrifying.
Somebody started burning marijuana. A lot of it. There were four pounds scattered in hundreds of huge incense burners all around the ballroom. The air immediately became thick and intoxicating; an even better medium for the sensual tension that pervaded the atmosphere.
Everywhere people were fitting cocks into cunts. Long ones into wide ones, thick ones into tight ones, skinny ones into huge ones, bent ones into straight ones, lively ones into passive ones, old ones into young ones… the squishing sounds reminded Sean of an army of cartoon characters marching through a swamp.
The Guru's cock had come completely erect. It was pointed straight at Joanna's hole. Joanna was staring down at him with an incredulous look in her eyes. Suddenly she snapped her head back-it was almost as though it had been snapped back-and rolled it around and closed her eyes.
The two guys holding her-Bernie and a friend-looked at her with alarm but the Guru said, 'Do not be concerned. That is the Secondary Stage. She will enter upon the Tertiary very soon. The atmospheric tension is very high. The Monsoon Season is approaching. The Earth is in its Time of Dryness. The woman will open as at the Time of Birth.'
'What?' Bernie gasped. 'Does he mean she's gonna open up like she's gonna have a lad?'
'You guessed'er, Chester.'
The Guru's cock jerked a few times. Nearby Sean and Andrea were fucking along easily. Andrea found herself fascinated by the eerie control the Guru had over his cock. It turned her on. And then suddenly she had a strange, familiar feeling. Wetness. Rain. The storm. The feeling was coming again.
Joanna started to groan as if in pain but a smile of pure ecstasy came across her face. Her legs shook and then went into a kind of palsied trembling. They began to part-not from the hips, but at the hips. The Guru was completely still as her cunt opened slowly, steadily, wider and wider. The moaning kept up. The humming merged with it. Everyone who was breathing was breathing pure marijuana smoke.
Things started to spin. The room moved. The smoke eddied and swirled. All the separate fucks began to merge into a single rhythm-the rhythm of the hum.
This time even Sean felt it. Everyone felt it. It was as if they had become some lower, and yet some higher, form of life: bees in a hive, each perhaps a single cell in the living organism of their society.
Interchangable parts.
Intrinsically positive impulses.
One surging moment of complete unity, total excitement, loss of consciousness, flight at impossible speed toward…
Joanna's cunt-hole was five inches wide. The outer lips, the inner lips, the clit, the pubic hair, all seemed peripheral and accidental compared to the incredible depth of the smoothly rounded cavern of her womanhood. She was wailing in rhythm with the deafening hum that carried everything with it like an incoming tide. There was one point, one spot, on the surface of her insides that cried and begged and pleaded for relief and yet danced and played and laughed at the same time.
The Guru's cock pulsed in hard, driving rhythms. The hum sped up till its softly undulating cadences piled on each other, hissing and steaming, screeching and clattering, like the sound of a steam engine plummetting full- speed toward destruction.
Sean and Andrea were right there. So was everyone else. 982 people were going to get off at the same time, the instant when Baalow Nee…
Joanna's cunt was calling wildly and the Guru's cock was answering eagerly and then a huge thick stream of come erupted up out of him like a geyser. It blasted up into her and shattered and frothed and sprayed against that one point, that perfect spot…
The combined noise of nearly a thousand people getting off shook the entire ship. It was cataclysmic. It was so deafening, so chaotic, yet so mystically harmonious, that it was almost the same as silence. It could have been lost souls screaming in agony in hell or saved souls singing for joy in heaven.
In fact it was a whole lot of people shooting their wads and collecting their dough on a very expensive and not completely ordinary cruise to the Caribbean, but no one at the time was much concerned with facts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
'Okay,' Andrea asked, 'what do you say note?'
'Uncle,' Sean answered. 'I give. There's something going on with that guy. I mean, I can't deny that the old Quotillion last night was the mind fuck of a lifetime. I've never seen anything-I've never heard of anything-like what he did with Joanna. And she says she felt as if she was conscious all the time, having the most fantastic fuck of her life, but she wasn't aware that her cervix went through all the biological changes implied by giving birth. I've got to admit that someone's got his pinky playing around in the laws of nature like they were a bowl of spaghetti.'
Joanna and John came in. Joanna was still a little spacey from the experience of the night before but she didn't hurt a bit and she felt great. 'Guess what we heard,' she offered.
'Nixon had the CIA take films of the InterFuck Quotillion for his private war against his own obscenity.'
'No. The Guru's gone into solitary meditation. Indefinitely. That oriential chick-what's her name, Mei Ling?- says that the experience last night has sent him into a state of Oneness with the Cosmos. I guess that means he's got one hell of a hangover.'
They all laughed.
