I was making love to Patti. I mean that literally. With Patti, the act is not sex, or fucking, or screwing: it's an act of love. A spiritual, emotional, romantic thing as well as a physical thing.
We were on the bed, and she was in my arms. She was resting her head on my arm, and I was half-leaning over her, kissing her. My mouth was still closed, and I was kissing her slowly, sensually, rotating my lips. We were both fully clothed, because that was the way she wanted it; the only way she could ever fully enjoy it.
I had to make love to her: win her over and seduce her. We couldn't just enjoy sex together on a physical level. I had to tell her I loved her, and assure her that it was her, my woman, that I desired. She had to be more than a cunt: she had to be a love object.
This time, however, I found myself not minding it too much. I did it her way, because I found it exciting. I found Patti exciting. I hadn't made love to her in nearly a month, and I found her body exciting me as it always had in the past. Our memories were working through our bodies, and she moved when I wanted, touched me when I needed, and responded exactly as expected. Our bodies were familiar and the act was well-practiced and coordinated. We knew each other through years and years of sexual practice, and we knew how to act, and how to make love. There was a smoothness, and finesse of technique that was missing with all the other women I had had during the month. Patti and I were good together sexually.
Patti lay in my arms passively; her yellow hair, short and closely cropped, splayed slightly across my arms and touching the pillow. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing gently. I kissed her as sensually as I could without using my tongue. My lips were open slightly, and they were wet. I pressed them fully against hers, allowing my wetness to touch hers, and I moved my lips slightly, slowly against her. I felt the slightest response under me: a return of pressure against my lips. Her lips parted, and I felt the tickling thickness of her tongue against my lips.
That was my sign that we had successfully reached the next level to our love making. She was responding because I was doing it her way: slowly, romantically, winning over her body through love.
I opened my mouth and permitted her tongue to wind itself into my mouth. It felt like a slow, hot thickness touching my teeth and licking my tongue. She moved it carefully, playing it over the roof of my mouth and rubbing it up and down against my tongue. Her lips were still full and thick, and she continued to press them softly against my lips, rotating her mouth with the same subtle motion.
Patti moaned slightly, and I slid my tongue over hers, pushing myself into the wetness of her mouth. I tasted her sweetness, and felt the gentle sucking pressure that her mouth was making as I entered it. Her breath pulled into her, as though she were imprisoning me. I ground my mouth against her lips, pressing slightly harder against her lips.
It was time for the next move.
My left hand was on her stomach, kneading it and caressing it as I kissed her. As I increased my tempo, I began to slide my hand up her body, towards her breasts. I moved my hand slowly – very slowly – so that she could savor the exquisite sexuality of anticipation as my hand drew closer and closer to her tit. At the very last moment, I touched the base of her breast, the swollen roundness just above her bra. I rubbed my fingertips against her softness, making slow, shallow circles against the material of her dress.
Patti moaned again. Her breasts were extraordinarily sensitive, and just the slightest touch made her react with pleasure. Her greatest enjoyment came from my licking and sucking on her breasts. I'd always believed she could reach orgasm from just my touching them, but we'd never tried it. I'm sure it would work if we had to patience to try.
Today, however, was not that time, and I slipped my hand up over her breast, touching it fully. Her breasts were rather small, but very firm and pert. Her tit filled my hand nicely, and I felt the stiffness of her bra and the underlying softness of her breast under my hand. I squeezed and she moaned in my mouth, screwing her body tighter against my hand and her lips and tongue deeper and deeper into my mouth.
I squeezed her tit as I might a firm, rubber ball. I tightened my fingers around its softness and squeezed in and out with my fingers. I enjoyed feeling the flesh swell and shrink under my touch. I pressed Patti's tit down against her with my hand, and began to rotate it as I crushed it down against her. I moved my hand with a circular motion as I moved my lips against hers. Both our bodies were geared to the same sensual pitch of pleasure; everything was coordinated.
I broke my lips away from hers, and slid my face down into the valley of her neck. Her head tilted slightly to accommodate my face. She stretched her neck, allowing it to grow long and white. Her hair fell slowly away from her neck, revealing her ear.
My lips touched her neck. My lips were open and I sucked her flesh up into my mouth. I touched her with the tip of my tongue, trailing it up and down the flesh that was already in my mouth. I slid my face up and down the length of her neck, wetting it with my tongue and lips, kissing Patti and biting her with my teeth. I touched the edge of her ear with a wet flick of my tongue and she moaned again.
"I love you," I whispered into her ear. I punctuated the words by stabbing my tongue into her ear, and I felt her body shudder under me.
"I love you Patti," I repeated, kissing, licking and talking, saying the words thickly and softly, the way she wanted to hear them.
The words were magic. Patti turned her face back towards me and began to kiss me again. This time her lips were open and wet, and she crushed her mouth against mine with a passion that had not been present before. Her tongue lashed against mine with sexual intentions, and I could feel the edge of her teeth under the fleshy cushion of her lips.
I moved my hand down from her breast, sliding it slowly across her stomach, pressing down with the tips of my fingers. I moved slowly and she enjoyed the delay of pleasure, and the anticipation of what was going to happen to her when my hand stopped moving. She hunched her hips upward, trying to slide my hand further down her body. She tried to bring her body to me rather than wait for my body to come to her.
My fingers curved over the edge of her cunt, and she pressed the soft mound up against my fingers. Her thighs were open slightly, and I felt the pleasurable firmness of her cunt under my fingers, I rubbed the palm of my hand against the underedge of her cunt, against where her clitoris was.
She responded by hunching her cunt up against my hand and grinding it. I pressed down hard with the flat of my hand, and ran it up and down between her legs. She pressed her heels into the mattress and stiffened her thighs, parting them even more. I began to grind the flat of my palm into the center of her cunt, rotating it against her clit with the broad part of my hand.
Patti moved this time. She reached across her body and touched my cock. She tightened her fingers around it and began to rub hard. Then she pressed her fingers down and stroked it with the flat of her palm.
She was wearing a black and white zebra-striped dress that buttoned down the front. I suspect that she purposely wore this dress, anticipating what would happen. My fingers fumbled with the large white buttons, and I tried to undo them as casually as possible without breaking the mood. I undid the buttons and the material fell away. Her thin, well-formed thighs appeared.
I slipped my hand down between her thighs, rubbing them with my fingers while I trailed my hand up and down their length. I rested my hand on her left thigh, and tickled the right with my moving hand. Slowly I slid myself up until I was near the curve of her cunt. I squeezed the muscle of her thigh with my fingers, and barely brushed the side of my hand against her cunt.
"Oooohhh!" Patti moaned.
I pressed the side of my hand against her cunt. Her panties were wet, and I could feel the crunch of hair moving under the sheer material. Wetness greeted my hand as I slid it through the furrow of her cunt.
With my pinky, I hooked the leg-band of her panties as I slid my hand up and down. I felt the flesh of her cunt and the crispness of her cunt hair. They curled around my finger like brittle vines. I could feel the wetness of her cunt with my finger as I moved it closer to the flap of her lips. My finger passed over her swollen clitoris, and Patti moaned once more.
I had just inserted my pinky into the wetness between the lips. I could feel the rubbery slickness and heat of her body against my finger. I started to inch myself up, inside her flowing channel when my progress was suddenly halted.
The telephone rang.
"Don't answer it," Patti said. "Let it ring."
I tried to ignore it, but it continued to ring. I had taken the jack of the bedroom extension out when we had come into the bedroom, but I had forgotten the other telephone.
The telephone continued to ring, and I tried to shut it from my mind. I plunged my pinky up into Patti's cunt. I felt the wetness of her body against me. Her cunt was very hot and I knew she was excited. Nevertheless, I felt her body stiffen as I entered her. I knew it was the telephone. It had shattered the mood.
"You'd better answer it," Patti said. She pulled her knees up and my finger popped out of her cunt. "It's probably Fred," she added.
I laughed. Fred was a friend of ours from before we were married. Whenever Patti and I had gotten a chance to make love, invariably when we were right in the middle of it, the telephone would ring, and it would always be Fred. He had an uncanny knack for calling at the wrong moment. That had been a very long time ago, and we hadn't seen Fred for years.
"Hello!" I said…
"Hello yourself!" the telephone answered.
I recognized the voice. It was Iris.
I looked across at Patti. She had followed me into the hall to the telephone. A momentary panic set in.
"Who is it?" Patti asked. She was lighting a cigarette, only half paying attention.
I covered over the receiver. "Just someone," I said. "A friend."
Patti looked at me oddly. "A friend?"
Even through the muffled thickness of my hand, I could hear Iris' voice. I couldn't hear the words, but she seemed to be shouting.
"Just a moment," I said to Patti.
I turned back to the telephone. "I can't talk now," I said. "I have company… my wife is with me…"
"So what!" Iris said. "Put her on. Let her hear this."
"I don't think…"
"Would you like me to wait in the bedroom?" Patti asked. She seemed hurt rather than mad.
"No," I said. "I'll just hang up."
Patti turned her eyes away.
"Look," I said to Iris. "I really can't talk now. I'll get in touch with you…"
"I have a dog!" Iris said. "And guess what he's going to do to me…"
"I really can't talk now…"
"Okay!" Iris said cheerfully. "Suit yourself. I'll just call someone else… I thought you'd be interested… you know… the dog and all."
"I appreciate your concern," I heard myself say. I was looking at Patti. "Some other time…"
"Sure," Iris said. I heard a dog bark. "You have my number. Keep in touch."
I hung up the telephone.
Patti turned and slowly walked into the bedroom, leaving a blue trail of cigarette smoke behind her.
I lifted the receiver again and listened. I got a dial tone.
"Good," I said to myself, my eyes following Patti as she walked. I lay the receiver on the table next to the phone, off the hook. I could hear the buzz of the dial tone all the way back into the bedroom.
Patti was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down and smoking her cigarette. Her hair was mussed, and her dress was twisted sideways. The mood was totally shattered.
"I'm sorry," I said to her. I wanted to move closer but I was unsure of how she would react to it.
"Was that about your ad?" she asked.
I considered lying to her.
"Yes," I confessed.
"A woman?"
I nodded.
"Is she pretty?"
"I don't know," I said. "I've never seen her."
Patti looked at me.
"It's true," I said. "I've never seen her."
"She seemed to know you," Patti said. Oddly, she didn't sound hurt; only curious.
"I've talked with her a few times," I said. "Iris is a very strange woman…"
"In what way?" Patti asked. She seemed to be warming to the conversation.
"She likes to do it over the telephone," I explained. "She's a telephonic voyeur; a telephonic exhibitionist."
"What does she do?" Patti asked. She had forgotten her cigarette, and a fine long gray ash was building at the end of her cigarette.
"Mostly talk dirty," I said. "She calls up men and masturbates while she talks to them."
"Really?"
"Once she called me while she was being screwed. I heard everything. Her panting, groaning. She gave me a very graphic description."
"And she told you?"
"Yes," I said. "She described it in detail. When he was going down on her, when he was fucking her, even when he came inside of her."
Patti's eyes were incredulous.
"It's true!" I said. "Really. Iris is a very strange woman."
The faintest flush of redness seemed to color Patti's cheek.
"Did you do it with her?" she asked. "Over the telephone, I mean?"
I considered my answer for a moment. "Yes," I finally said. "I did."
"What did you do, though?" she asked. Her eyes were bright, and she seemed suddenly animated.
"I jerked off," I confessed.
"Was it good?"
"Yeah. I guess. It was all right."
Patti was staring at me. I noticed that her legs were open slightly; open more than they had been a while before.
"What did she want this time?" she asked.
"I'm not sure," I said, laughing. "She said something about a dog…"
"A dog?!" Patti said. "What do you mean a dog?"
"She had a dog with her."
"Did she say what she was going to do with the dog?"
"No. But I think it's pretty obvious."
"You mean… sex with the dog?" she asked. "She's going to make love… fuck with the dog?"
I didn't answer because Patti really wasn't asking me a question. She was talking more to herself than to me. I noticed that the blush of color had spread across both her cheeks, like a flush of passion. Her legs were open widely now, and her dress was pulled up to the middle of her thighs. I could see the whiteness of her panties.
"Are they all like that?" she asked. "All the women?"
"No," I said, slowly. I was looking at the ash on her forgotten cigarette. It was bending precariously.
"Tell me about them," Patti said. The ash fell from the tip of her cigarette and landed noiselessly on the bedroom rug. "Tell me about them," she repeated, "Please. Allen."
I stared at her. This was strange; a side of Patti I had never seen before.
"Why do you want to know?" I asked.
"It's exciting," she admitted. "It's stimulating me more than anything I can remember."
"Do you really want me to?" I asked.
"Yes, Allen. Please."
"Everything?"
"Everything."
I leaned against the bureau. She stared up at me with wide, passion filled eyes. I told her about Gail Bowman and her friend Sandi. Patti stopped me when I passed too lightly over certain points. She made me repeat them in great detail. My words seemed to excite her to a degree I never knew existed.
"Was it good?" she asked. "Fucking one and sucking the other?" The words sounded strange in her mouth; oddly out of character. Not that Patti was a prude; she wasn't. But I've never seen her so sexually involved.
"Yes," I said. Her excitement was contagious, and I felt my hard-on through my pants. Patti saw my caress with her wide, passionate eyes.
"Sit here next to me," she said. She seemed to be directing her words to my cock.
I sat by her on the bed. She opened my zipper and took my cock out. She caressed it boldly with her fingers. Her earlier mood of love and romanticism was replaced by this strange, raw passion.
"How did it feel?" she asked. "To be inside another cunt? Was it bigger than mine? Wetter? Better?"
"It feels mostly the same," I answered honestly. I don't think it was the answer she wanted.
"You mean one cunt's just like another?" she said. "Oh, I don't believe that. I'm certain one cock won't feel the same as any other cock."
I looked at her.
She either ignored my look or was unaware of it. She continued to talk, oblivious to my presence. "I wonder how it would feel? Another cock? A bigger one or a smaller one?"
I didn't know what to say. I know Patti had been a virgin when we married, and I doubted whether she had done any fooling around since our marriage. Mine had been the only cock that had ever fucked her. Her interest was strangely disconcerting to my ego.
"Tell me about the others," she said. Her hand moved up and down my cock, jerking me off.
I considered her request for a moment, then carefully chose one from all the others. Purposefully, I eliminated Ellen Marshall from my selection. I was afraid, somehow, to tell her about Ellen Marshall. Afraid more for her than for me.
Instead, I told her of Kenneth Hill and his wife Yvonne. I told her about the film, and about Kenneth Hill's sexual pleasure at seeing his wife screwed.
"Did he touch you?" Patti asked. She had one hand in her panties and I could see her finger going in and out of her cunt.
"No," I said. The idea repulsed me.
"Too bad," she said, somewhat distracted. Her eyes went suddenly distant, and she stopped moving her hand on my cock. She seemed to be thinking of something.
"Too bad," she repeated.
She seemed to come back to me. "Tell me some more," she said. "While you're fucking me!"
I stared at her. Her passion was real, and I felt a sickening, threatening heaviness in the pit of my stomach. I had never seen Patti like this, and I couldn't adjust to the intensity of her excitement. It was as though I had never known her, in all the years we had been married. Was this the real Patti Dawson? The one hidden for so many years under the thin veneer of socialization?
She stood up and unbuttoned the dress and flung it onto her dressing table. Her body was fairly slim, but attractive. She wore a bra and a pair of panties. She pulled the bra down, unsnapped it, and threw it with her dress. Then she pulled her panties down her long legs, and stepped out of them.
I stared at her cunt as though I had never seen it before. It was average in size, covered with a moderately thick growth of hair. Her hair was blond-brown in color, and very curly. Patti had narrow, boyish like hips that made her cunt seem in the center of her body.
"Get undressed!" she urged. She took her panties in her hand and wiped her cunt with them. I've seen her do that before. It was a sign that she was very excited, and her cunt was flowing heavily.
I unbuttoned my shirt and pants. As I was pulling my undershirt over my head, Patti dropped to her knees and put my cock in her mouth. Her mouth felt hot and wet against me, and I grasped her head and pressed her face into me. There's one thing about Patti that was good and that was her mouth. She had a wonderful mouth.
So had Ellen Marshall, I thought. So had Ellen Marshall. I pushed Patti away.
"I can't take my pants, down with you standing there," I said. My voice sounded self-conscious. "You're in the way."
"Sorry," she said. She seemed completely unaware of the strained quality of my voice.
She got up and went over to the bed and lay on the mattress, with her head on the pillow. She opened her legs and pulled them up. She pressed both of her hands against her cunt, and I could see that she had inserted a finger from each hand into the wet hole of her cunt.
"Hurry," Patti said, "and fuck me!"
I watched as she pumped her fingers in and out of her cunt.
I stepped out of my pants and undershorts. I touched my hard-on. Her excitement excited me: it was like fucking a strange, different woman. The Patti I had always known had been a reserved romantic, not a sex pot. Sex for her had always been an extension of love.
But this was different, and her passion was different. This was raw sexuality and nothing else. Patti didn't want to be made love to: she wanted to be fucked.
I advanced on the bed.
"No!" Patti said. "Not the bed. Fuck me there! I want to watch!"
I looked to where she was pointing. It was her dresser top, and she was staring at her naked reflection.
She grabbed a pillow and placed it on the dresser. Then she took her jewelry box and a few other things that had cluttered the dresser off and placed them on the bed. She slid the pillow down to the middle of the dresser and lifted herself on top of it.
"Get another pillow for my ass," she said, lying back on the polished walnut.
I stared at her. I'd never seen her passion at such an intense peak.
"Jesus!" she said. "It's cold!"
I handed her the pillow.
"Put it under my ass," she said. "That's it. Now let me slide down a little… there… so my ass is hanging off the edge… good."
She was looking at herself in the mirror, at the close reflection of her body that followed her every move. She was holding her tits with both hands, squeezing them, and playing with the nipples.
"Get between my legs now," she instructed.
I moved, almost in a daze towards her. She parted her legs and lifted them. Her cunt was on a direct level with my cock, and I moved close to her, I felt the tip of my cock touch her cunt.
"Put my legs a little higher," she said. She was looking at my cock enter her in the mirror. "So I can see."
I put her legs over my shoulders. Her cunt was upturned and parted. I pushed my cock inside of her, watching it sink into her. I could see her cunt lips closing around the shaft of my cock.
"Ohhh," Patti said. She watched me as I completed the insertion. "Is that what it looks like to fuck? Oh, God! It looks so big! It feels so good!"
I pushed myself in and out of her, watching my cock disappear then reappear as I pumped in and out. The closeness of her cunt, and the bizarreness of her mood and our strange fucking position all worked on my mind and body. Patti's cunt felt like molten lava: like a boiling pit of hot, sweltering sexuality. It felt good. Exciting. Better than I could ever remember it feeling.
"Tell me more," Patti said. "While I watch… tell me more…"
I closed my eyes and pushed in and out. Wave after wave of softness and pleasure washed across my cock. I pushed effortlessly in and out of Patti.
"There was one woman," I said. I closed my eyes and stood on my toes, pushing my cock in and out of her. My rhythm was slow, undulating, controlled. It had to be: I was too close to cuming to allow it to be otherwise.
"There was this one woman," I said again. "Her name was Diane… Diane Zim… never mind… just Diane."
"What did she look like?"
"Big girl… blond… big breasts…"
Patti moaned. "More."
"Diane liked sex only when it was dangerous," I said. "The danger of being caught had to be there or it wouldn't be exciting…"
"How?" Patti asked.
"I took her for a drink and dinner," I said. "A nice place… we had a table in the back… It wasn't very dark… but she… Diane, offered to… suck me off… there and then… at the table… in the restaurant…"
"Did she?" Patti gasped. My cock was sunk into her upturned cunt right down to the base. I could feel the crinkle of her cunt hair against my stomach. I withdrew and pushed in again.
"Yes," I answered. "She did… she slid under the table… took my cock in her mouth… and sucked me off until I came. It was so strange… exciting… that I came right away… in a few seconds…"
"In her mouth?" Patti asked. I felt her hand come down and touch my cock.
"Yes," I said. "She spit it out in a handkerchief… then came back up and finished dinner… as though nothing at all had happened…"
"Fuck me!" Patti said. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"
I did.
"Later," I continued, "at her apartment… we made love together… since I had already cum, she reasoned… we could do it her way."
"What way," asked Patti "was her way?"
"Similar to this," I explained. I pushed my cock in and out of her cunt, feeling my balls thump into the edge of the dresser top.
"Only on the bed," I continued. "I was on my knees… in between her legs… she had her legs hooked behind my hips… by my ass… She pushed herself up and down on my cock… asking me if I was ready to cum… She kept on asking me that…"
"Why?" she wanted to know. I could feel Patti's cunt tightening around my cock. She was close, I knew. Very, very close.
"I had to cum first," I said. "Before Diane could cum… I had to cum first…"
"I'm going to cum…" Patti said.
I pushed in and out, remembering with my words and with my body. My eyes were still closed, and I had a pain in my back from straining to push in and out of Patti. But I was close to cuming.
"Remember," I said, feeling my orgasm ready to burst. "I told you Diane could only enjoy sex if it was dangerous… well this was dangerous too… in a way. She wasn't taking any pills… no birth control devices…"
"Yes, yes eeeyess!"
"She wanted me to pull out of her cunt as I came," I said. "Just before… and cum all over her cunt…"
"Do it to meeee!" Patti moaned. "I'm cuming!"
I felt her cunt clutching at my cock, like a pump on the end of my organ. I could feel the back wall of the canal, as the tip of my organ rubbed against it.
"I pulled my cock out," I said. "And I shot ray sperm against her cunt…"
I was one stroke away from my orgasm. I pushed in and then pulled out, all the way. I put the tip of my wet cock up against Patti's open, exposed cunt.
I began to cum.
"My come shot out of my cock," I said, remembering Diane with my eyes closed. "Shot out in spurts… hot thick spurts of cum… splashing against her cunt… In her hair… against her clit… splashing on her fingers as she tried to hold my cock against her clit…"
Patti was moaning, now, screaming and cuming. She put her hand down on my cock, and I felt my cum splashing against her body.
"I can feel it," Patti said. "I can feel it!… Against my… on my cunt… Your cum… your juice… your sperm!"
I looked down at her with my eyes open. Her cunt was in the middle of a spasm, opening and closing I like a fist. My sperm was covering her cunt like thick cream: blobs of sperm, matting in her hair, clinging and dripping across her cunt.
Then she moved. Moved her fingers. With a finger of each hand, she opened the lips of her cunt and ex posed her clitoris. It was a small red bud in the middle of all that wetness.
"Cum on meeeee!" Patti said, exposing the clit for me.
I pressed my cock against it. The last of my sperm exploded and splashed against her clit. Hot, thick sperm, crashing, smashing, spurting, splashing against Patti's clit.
"OH GOD!" she screamed.
My back hurt and my legs began to give out. I leaned against the wall, and felt myself oozing down until I was sitting on the floor, next to the dresser.
I put my head back against the coolness of the wall and looked up.
Patti's legs were hanging down, over the edge of the dresser. From where I sat, I could see the round curve of her cunt. It was wet, and sperm dribbled down her legs.
For a long while I sat and watched, as the small rivers of cum dripped over the edge of the dresser and made a puddle on the floor. I couldn't believe it was Patti.