On hands and knees, Susie began paying back the kindnesses extended her in this strange house.
She knew how to handle poster paint without splattering it all over. She need only take care in filling in the color blocks indicated by Nick's outlines. He worked more rapidly but she found a certain deftness returning to her fingers, and happily painted for an hour almost without speaking.
"Sweaty Goddam jockstrap," Nick swore.
Without pausing in her work, chewing her tongue in concentration, Susie said, "Well, take it off."
"Stink like a locker room."
"I don't mind," she said.
She could have added that a woman might even like the smell of hot male genitals, but just having thought it shocked her. Goodness, imagine me, a married woman, even thinking I could turn on to the sweaty smell of a man I've just met!
Nick took her at her word, rose and began peeling down the elastic apparatus. She could not help looking, and oh, goodness, that huge hair ruff, and now popping into view a soft but immense organ, fat and long, and the plumpest of testicles in a dark, hairy sac. She stared at the bulky cock and the strong odor of male musk made her nostrils quiver with excitement.
Nick said, "Thanks, Susie. I'm damn glad to get rid of it."
He kicked out of the elastics, left the thing on the floor and returned to work.
Susie could see his cock dangling down along his hairy thigh, way down.
She bit her lip and turned away. Susie worked feverishly to hide her excitement.
Her brush flew. Sometimes Nick's brush crossed hers to correct a line but more often he grunted approval. He got them some cushions to kneel on, though Susie had not minded the soreness of her knees. The productive work thrilled her almost as much as the presence of this brawny naked man with his curly black beard and fogged glasses and baseball cap.
But the heat increased and sweat ran down her arms. She saw that the windows were only partly open. She got up and raised them, then thought, No use staining my wood-nymph tunic with sweat, and removed it. Wearing only the strand of yarn about her waist, from which the clit sucker hung, she returned to work.
Kneeling doggie-style over the design, she was aware that her breasts hung out, saw Nick slip glances at them, especially when she had to reach to the paint bowl and they swung. She knew that some men liked seeing titties dangle in this fashion, Brian for one. Was she turning Nick on? His cock remained limp, though it seemed longer, flopping about as he moved.
She saw the baseball bats in the design as cocks, the diamonds gaping cunts.
The lightest of breezes seeped in the windows, washed about them mingling their body odors. His strong male odor made her gasp but the smell of hot, wet pussy was equally pronounced. It was open. She could feel the breeze oozing up her vagina. She thought, What is happening to me? Years of repressed sexuality have piled up to a crushing weight that has to burst out, and if Nick right now got hard and climbed on me from behind, rammed his cock up my hole, I know I would grunt like a pig and switch my ass about, screwing my vagina onto it.
But he is Gwen's husband.
Well, here that does not seem to matter. At least, Rita had urged Howard to fuck her, and as to the thing with Phil, no one objected. Besides, Gwen told me to come see Nick a couple of hours ago. Gwen, should I – should Nick and I…
Her inner thighs were wet. Sweat, or pussy juice? Oh, goodness!
They had worked from the edges of the design toward the middle, and now their hands sometimes touched as they painted.
"Almost done," Nick murmured. "Susie, you are damn good at this. We could make money on designs, do one in a morning instead of me breaking my ass to finish late at night. Are you tired?"
"Yes." She straightened, sat back on her heels, rubbing sweat from her face. She put down the brush and fisted her hand. The bones hurt from cramping on the brush. "But I'll get used to it. Nick, do you really think I could pay my way, filling in your designs?"
"Sure. And like my dad used to say, two men can do three times what one can. Men? Hell. A guy and a broad can do even better."
Feeling pleased enough to hug him, she tried to wipe sweat off her titties. The nipples had stiffened, though whether from her pleasure in achievement or from horniness for Nick she could not guess.
Then, gazing at their work, she said with a laugh, "Nick, those baseball bats look phallic."
"Hell, the whole game is sexually symbolic. The pitcher throws a testicle, the batter whacks it with his cock, the fielder takes it into a glove that's a cuntal pocket and gives with it, very female. Call it sadistic, if you want. Male aggression. Baseball designs always sell."
She laughed at this. Men always took things so seriously. She had a hunch that baseball was also just a game, even if Nick were right.
They returned to painting.
They were on the last diamond when Nick said, "Susie, you have luscious tits."
A blush burned her face.
She slipped a glance at his cock and saw that it had enlarged. The base of the stem, just out of his ruff, had hardened enough that the remainder of the dangling organ hung clear of his scrotal sac.
His words triggered something in her. She became intensely aware of the odor of her hot pussy, of the sweat streaming from her armpits.
Her breast points were throbbing. She tried to straighten, bringing an arm protectively to her titties; the old Susie reacting. But the new Susie rubbed her palm and wrist over the nipples, felt them stiffen out like little fingers.
She avoided Nick's gaze but her glance kept slipping to his thickening cock.
Abruptly he rose. "You finish the last diamond. I'll go get us some tea."
His swelling prick slapped his thighs as he left the room.
Susie caressed her tit ends, so hot they hurt now. Kneeling, she could see her erected clit, a pink, glistening nubbin pushing up through her pussy hair.
She gave a wrenching groan and returned to work. Her hand was shaking. Biting her lip, she controlled the shakes well enough to apply the color, then cleaned her hands and waited, her eyes shut.
She could feel vaginal tremors racing in and out of her. She tweaked her clit, twiddled the slippery length, thought of using the clit sucker on it to get a cum, relieve the tension, but then she heard Nick coming up the hall and she had to fight back tears. She was twitching all over, going to pieces!
Entering with two steaming bamboo cups, he said, "Gwen's happy with how it's worked out."
She thought desperately, The work? Or the way my cunt drools for you, Nick?
He squatted on his heels, facing her. The stiffness had extended somewhat from his pubic ruff but inches of fat cock still dangled.
He had not been circumcised, she saw. Only a button of pinkish cockhead showed through the encircling foreskin, which was extremely dark.
She took the cup in both trembling hands. The first sip scalded her lips. But she got the taste and odor, all right. Kashmir Karma.
Narcotic and aphrodisiac, Rita had said.
Thus she knelt facing the squatting Nick, feeling the heat of her breast ends, swollen fully to those cone shapes of nipple and areola, aware that her erect clit was tingling, her cunt and vagina sloshy hot.
He murmured, "I have an order for some textile designs, too. We'll be busy."
She burned her throat finishing the tea.
But the slight pain for a moment took her attention from her unbearable sexual heat.
Then she reached for it.
She could not help this. She acted not on impulse, but from terrible urgency.
She closed her hand on the fat bulk of Nick's cock.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
She blurted, "Nick, about Gwen…"
He, sipping tea, watching her clutching his prick, said, "Oh, Gwen's very fond of you. She said to have fun."
It was so hot, that massive bulge in her hand, the heat flowing up her arm. She put down her bamboo cup and brought the other hand to his scrotum, paused on feeling the weight of his testicles, afraid she might squeeze too hard and hurt him. Then she raised them, joggled them in her palm. They spilled off, too much of a handful.
The end of his prick still fattened, but was not yet stiff.
Swallowing hard, she choked out the words, "Why isn't it hard?"
"It's slow," he said, grinning. "But it lasts forever."
She bent down to see that dime-sized pink tip of the head, still snugly held by foreskin. She tried to thumb back the skin but it seemed too tight. Close now, the smell came like fire in her nostrils, making her choke, tremble, want to scream out her urgency.
Get hard! a voice within her shrieked.
The split in that pink tip was yearning as she pressed back the skin. She saw a pearly drop of lubricant tremble, about to spill.
She wanted that.
Inches from it, on fire, she could no longer resist.
She wetted her lips and thrust down, bringing the fisted head to her mouth.
She sucked the pearly drop right out of the split.
"Ugh-hh!" Nick groaned. "Hey, Susie, that's like crazy making!"
Never had she kissed a cock. But she found her tongue licking the circle of foreskin, rubbery compared to the slickness of the head, trying to pry it away, pushing it while her fist drew back.
She exposed a little more of the succulent, slippery pink flesh. Only a little!
Nick, still squatting, was caressing the back of her neck.
He said in a strained voice, "Susie honey, take a mouthful of it!"
She had let his nuts fall, held the looping fat cock in both hands as she flicked her tongue at the recalcitrant rim of skin.
He cried, "That's too much tease! Susie, give me head. Suck it!"
She scarcely knew what she was doing now, lipping and tonguing, squeezing and pulling the stem of it, moaning with excitement while tears welled in her eyes, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.
It was too big, she could not get it in. She stretched her jaw and felt the voluptuously soft, slick tip in the trough of her tongue.
Then her teeth were riding over the flare of it, abruptly past the rim.
His cockhead was in her mouth.
She thought, Oh God, I'm sucking a cock. I have my mouth full of man meat, I'm licking it and smelling his crotch odor, I should die of shame!
But she pushed more in, and sucked her lips fast on the shank.
"Take more, Susie, more!" he groaned.