The farm was about five miles out of the town where the bus stopped, and the man who owned it ran a small store there. He closed the store to drive us to the farm, and on the way out there I began to wonder how we were going to get around, and I asked him about that. He said that his brother-in-law had a car that he would probably rent because he had just broken his leg and couldn't drive it. He said that it wouldn't cost us very much, and if his brother-in-law wanted to rent it he would bring it over to the farm later in the day. Then he asked us if we would want a girl around the place. That was another thing I hadn't thought about. Ruth said that we could tell about that better when we had seen the place. As soon as we got in sight of the house she said yes. It was an awfully big place.
We looked the house over, and after the man had shown us around and showed us where everything was he drove away, and there Ruth and I were, alone in the country. It was very quiet when the man had gone. I thought that it would be a good idea for me to get some sleep, and Ruth said that she could use some more sleep too. We picked out one of the bedrooms and unpacked our bags and got the bed ready. Then I sat down to smoke a butt and watch Ruth undress.
“You take off your clothes like someone doing a strip tease,” I told her.
“That's funny. That's what my friend said last night. He didn't say it just that way, but that's what he meant.
She stopped and stood facing me, wearing only her stockings. My eyes ran up and down her and then got stuck at her cunt.
“Then you can forget that I said it,” I said. “Come on over here. I want to feel of you.”
She came to me, mincing on her toes. Then she stood in front of me and I put my hand out and touched her belly. I patted her belly and slid my hand over the curve of her hip and along her thigh.
“You're all right,” I said. “You're a nice girl, aren't you?”
Her leg was warm, and the flesh was firm. I slid my hand between her thighs and worked it up and down, back and forth between her knees and her cunt. Ruth's knees sagged a little, and her breath began to be faster. She pressed against me.
“You didn't think so last night,” she said.
“You weren't being a very good girl last night. In fact you were a damned nasty bitch. All day.”
“I didn't mean to do that last night. But when we were in the taxi waiting for you to get the cigarettes he started to feel me up. And I was hot. You know I had been hot all day. And when he put my hand on his prick he had a hard on and it made me want to be screwed. You know how it is.”
“You're that way all the time. You're that way right now, damn you,” I said.
Her knees sagged more and more, and she was swaying. I knuckled into her cunt and put my other hand on her ass. I held her like that and pushed against her cunt with the back of my hand. She twisted against me.
“I'd have jazzed any of them,” she said. “The fellow in the book store or the one at Charlie's. It doesn't make any difference who fucks me when I'm like that, as long as he has a prick. I should have been a whore instead of a poet, Bill. Do the girls who do anything at all-everything-make more than the girls who just screw?”
“They do for a while. And I think it's better to be a whore than a poet. You meet a better class of people.”
I took my hand away from her. She stood with her knees bent as though she might topple onto me in a minute. I started to take my clothes off, and she sat heavily on the bed. She sat with her knees spread apart and rubbed her thighs with her palms, rocking back and forth.
“Whores have a reason for being what they are, so there must be a reason for the way I am. I don't know any woman who thinks so much about fucking as I do,” she said.
She looked at my cock and my legs and my belly. My cock stood out like a big red thumb. She took one hand from her thigh and put it on mine and rubbed me the way she was rubbing herself. Both of her hands went up, until the sound of her fingers in our hair was like the sound of fine cloth being torn slowly. Her fingers touched her cunt, and then she grabbed my prick and shoved a couple of her fingers into her cunt.
“Jazzing is all I think about,” she said. “If I meet a man the first thing I think about is what it would be like to have him to screw. I try to imagine what his prick would look like, and I think of myself going down on him. I see men on the street and I have all kinds of crazy ideas about asking them to step into a doorway with me or to take me home with them. And in restaurants or on the street cars I'll see a man and then I'll sit so that he can see under my dress. I don't wear pants most of the time, and that's the reason-so that I can have men look at my cunt. And when I'm sitting like that someplace I seem to be on fire all through my body, and I can feel my heart pounding somewhere in my stomach. There must be a reason for those things.”
I pushed her backward and then I pulled her hand away from her cunt and put my own hand there. I stabbed two fingers into her cunt and moved them around between the lips. Ruth patted my cock. I looked at myself, and the end of it was like a big, shiny cherry that was splitting ripe, with the juice coming out of it.
“He Frenched me last night,” Ruth said. “I would have been back with you sooner, but when he started to do that I had to stay. I wish I had a picture of him with his face glued to my cunt. It wouldn't hurt him to worry a little too.”
While she was talking Ruth had wrapped her hand over my balls. When she wiggled against me the end of my prick rubbed her belly. I stopped feeling her cunt with my fingers and tried to feel it with my prick. The hair felt good on my cock, and the wet, smooth parts of her cunt felt even better. Ruth held my balls against her pussy and wormed herself around, and I finally knew that I had to make up my mind about what was going to be done next or I would just shoot on her belly without much of anything having happened. I yanked her into the center of the bed and kicked her legs open and rolled onto her. I was all ready to spear her, and she was lying open and I could have sunk my prick with one shot. Ruth pulled my head down to hers.
“Let's French each other.”
I pushed the end of my cock against her cunt and got the lips open enough to take it.
“You don't have to whisper. This is the country.
“I want to suck your cock! I want to suck your cock!” she shouted. “Put it in my mouth!”
“That's the idea. Get rid of those old inhibitions. Try it again.”
“I'm a cocksucker! Cocksucker! Cock-sucker!”
I continued to rub my prick in her cunt until I had it wet. I lay on my back on the bed then and offered it to her. She dove for it and sank her teeth into it and then she swung herself around and threw her cunt in my face. I dragged her up to me and stuck my mouth onto her pussy and closed my eyes. Her legs tightened and I reached with my tongue.
Ruth was still holding my prick in her hands, but there wasn't much of it left for her to hang onto because she had most of it in her mouth. She was grinding her teeth back and forth in a sawing motion, and her tongue was skimming around as crazily as a water bug.
“Just a minute,” she said suddenly.
She left the bed and went to the bureau and emptied her purse on it. She came back with a lipstick. Then she held my prick with one hand and painted the end of it with the lipstick until it was crimson. She held it and looked at it and laughed. Her mouth was wet from holding my prick.
“I guess I'll make all of it red,” she said.
“The hell you will.” I took the lipstick from her and tipped her over and went to work on her with it. I marked her cunt and her nipples and her navel. Just for the hell of it I printed: MINE, on her belly.
“Write CUNT on me,” Ruth said.
“Balls,” I said.
“All right. That too.”
I tossed the lipstick away and made a grab for her. I got her down and shoved the end of my cock against her mouth until her mouth was smeared with the lipstick and wet with the stuff that was coming out of my cock. Smeared like that it made her mouth look bigger, and slack. I shoved my prick and watched her suck it.
“I ought to make you lick all of that stuff off,” I said. “Haven't you ever heard of the awful things they put in cosmetics?”
She held my cock and worked on the end.
“It doesn't come off very easily. But I'll try to get it off if you don't like it.”
I rubbed my cock on her face. So little of the color came off that I could hardly see the streak.
“It must be permanent,” I said.
“They have to make it that way. Think what would happen in the summer when men wear white pants, if they didn't make it that way.”
“It comes off on cigarettes. I've seen it on white pants too.”
“Only when it's first put on. Do you think any dry cleaner would make an arrangement with me to use a lipstick that comes off?”
“You're not as much of a bitch as you pretend. You just talk a good game.”
She tried jerking me off while she licked my balls. Then she licked my prick and rubbed it back and forth over her mouth, and she was just going to suck it when I took it away from her. She threw her legs back over herself when I turned her onto her back, and she looked at me from between her knees.
“I forgot something,” I said.
I picked up the lipstick and I ran it around and around her ass hole while she stayed that way. She juggled her ass and jazzed up to me to make the end of the lipstick run into her ass hole.
“You should have done just the inside of me,” she said. I'll bet a man would be surprised to take his prick out of that and find that it had turned red. He would have been surprised last night.”
“Christ,” I said, “do you have to tell me everything you do?”
“I have to tell somebody.”
“Yes,” I said. “I suppose you do have to tell somebody.”
“I'm going to use make-up like this all the time,” Ruth said. “From now on before I go out you'll find me making my cunt pretty too. If I'm going to continue to show it to people I think I ought to, don't you?”
I didn't answer her because I had my mouth on her cunt and my tongue digging into it. The lipstick had a sweet, perfumed taste that I didn't like very much, but I didn't notice it after a couple of minutes. Lying there holding her legs back and kissing and sucking her I didn't notice much of anything but her cunt in a little while. She put her arms around her hips and held her cunt open, and she moved it with her fingers all the time that I was Frenching her.
“I think you like to go down on a cunt as much as I like to suck off a prick,” she said. “You wiggle your tongue around as though it was a good feeling to have my hair around it. I wish I knew what it was that you like so much about Frenching me.
I stabbed her a few more times and then I let her stretch her legs out and I lay with my head on her belly and licked her pussy. She was still jerking herself off.
“You know what it is,” I said. “You'd go down on it yourself if you could reach it. You love your cunt so much that you jerk yourself off even when I'm Frenching you.”
“Your mouth is covered with lipstick.”
“Damn it, take your hands away from it,” I said. If your cunt interests you so much why the hell don't you go to bed with girls?”
“There's one coming this afternoon. Maybe I will take her to bed. You can have the other bedroom.”
“She'll have adenoids and bad teeth.”
I grabbed her and began to French her again and I felt her stiffening. She jazzed around and bounced her cunt into my face in a way that she did when she was going to come.
“You can look through the keyhole and watch me Frenching her,” Ruth said. “You can stand there and jerk off.”
“I'll jerk off into your mouth,” I said. “I'll give you something to think about besides cunt.”
I ducked my head up and down and licked and then I stuck my mouth to her and sucked as hard as I could without sucking her inside out. She fought me when she came, but I held her and Frenched her until it was over. She tried to push me away with her hands and with her feet, and she kicked and twisted, but I kept at her. After a minute she stopped fighting and I stopped sucking her.
“Now get down on me,” I said.
She didn't move fast enough so I pushed her back on her ass and went after her. I socked my prick into her mouth and made her suck it and then I pulled it out and made her lick my balls. She really liked to have me give it to her that way, but anyone seeing us might have thought that I was trying to kill her, or at least was liable to kill her if she didn't come across the way I wanted her to. I made her suck my balls, and then I turned around and shoved my ass in her face.
Sometimes she pretended that she didn't want to suck my ass and sometimes she was so hot about it that when she got started I could hardly make her stop again. I didn't take time to find out how she was then. I sat back and slammed my ass on her face.
“Suck my ass or I'll smother you with it,” I said. “You're not playing with Toby now.”
She licked it and she grabbed my cock and started to jerk me off. She was trying to say something, and I stopped pushing my ass in her face.
“Wouldn't make that mistake,” she said. “Toby never had anything like that.”
She hung onto my cock and jerked me off. I rubbed my ass on her mouth again.
“I'd rather suck your prick,” she said. “I don't want anything to be wasted.”
I jerked around and gave her my prick, and just then I shot. Some of the jism struck her on the hand, but all the rest of it went into her mouth. She held that hand away from herself and tried to keep it from running off onto the bed. She kept working on my prick and I kept shooting.
Afterward I got up to get Ruth a cigarette and I got a handkerchief for her. She didn't use the handkerchief until she had sucked the jism from her hand and from between her fingers. She lay on her back with the ashtray on her belly and smoked. I watched her smoking, and pretty soon I fell asleep. I was tired and I dreamed about walking up a mountain that had no summit.
A car in the driveway woke us up. I got up and looked out of the window. It was an old Ford, and it was in pretty bad shape. While I was looking at it the car stopped and a man got out and then a girl got out. I called down that I would see them in a minute, and Ruth and I got some clothes on and went down.
The car was the one that our landlord had been talking about, and I didn't think much of it, but the girl was all right. She was nervous, and she acted awkward, but she was pretty. She had one small bag in the car and she took it and followed Ruth into the house while the fellow who had brought the car showed me how to start it and all the various tricks it had. It had plenty of tricks. “What about the girl?” I said. “How?” he said.
“Never mind,” I said. “I'll find out.” He wanted to stay around and talk, but when he found out that I didn't know anything to speak of he started down to the cross road to get a ride back with the mailman. I drove the car into the barn and went into the house.
There were a few letters I wanted to write, so I did that while Ruth and the girl went around the house cleaning things up. One of the letters was to a girl I had fucked when I was in high school. She had read the book of short stories I got out last fall and she wanted fifty dollars in a hurry. The letter I wrote to her was one of the best letters I ever wrote to anybody, and I got so interested in it that by the time I got it finished it was time to have dinner.
After we ate Ruth and I walked around the place until the sun was going down. It was pretty, but I didn't feel so good to see that. It made me feel the same way that I used to feel about it when I was a kid, and I wasn't so sure about this being in the country. While we were walking back to the house the frogs started up down at the pond and the bats began dodging around in the dusk. When we went into the house the girl was listening to the radio, and she looked as though she wished she could be someplace else too.
“Are you lonesome, Jane?” Ruth asked her.
The girl stood up. She had never worked for anybody before and she didn't know how she should act. I didn't know how she should act myself.
“A little bit,” she said.
“For god's sake, what do people do around here for entertainment?” I asked.
“That one's easy,” said Ruth. “Look at the size of the families they raise.”
“They must do something else.”
The girl said that there were movies in a town about fifteen miles away.
“Do you know anything about that car?” I said. “Can it be trusted to go fifteen miles?”
Jane said she thought so.
“Get your things,” I said to Ruth. “We're going to go to the movies and have a big night.”
“You too, Jane,” Ruth said.
I went out and backed the car out of the barn. Ruth came out and got into the car.
“I might as well take my letters,” I said.
I took the letters from the desk, and I went upstairs to get stamps. The door to the bedroom Ruth and I had taken was open, and the girl was in the room. She hadn't heard me. I thought at first that she was stealing something, and I felt uncomfortable. But she was just standing there looking at something. In a minute I realized that she was looking at the pictures of Ruth, and I watched her. She didn't do anything. All she did was look at them, studying each one a long time before she put it down and took up another one.
I went back downstairs and out to the car with my letters. Ruth looked at me.
“What's keeping Jane?” she said.
I leaned on the horn, and the girl hurried out of the house. She started to get into the back seat, but Ruth held open the front door.
“It's going to be chilly,” Ruth said. “We have a blanket up here.”
The girl was very quiet, and she kept looking at Ruth while she edged in beside her. I felt like throwing her out of the car. Then I felt like throwing them both out of the car. I was sore about something, but I couldn't put my finger on just what made me feel that way.
With the blanket on her lap Ruth got her hand into my pants almost before the car was on the road. I wondered what her other hand was doing, but it wasn't running under the girl's dress the way I half expected it to be doing. I saw it moving under the blanket when she hitched her own dress up. And that was the way we drove to the movies.
The first thing I saw in the town, and the only thing about it that I really liked, was the state liquor store. There were a lot of things in there that I wanted, but I was afraid about leaving much in the car. I finally bought two bottles of Scotch whiskey and a quart of apple brandy, and I put those under the seat of the car. I mailed my letters and then we picked out one of the two movies in the town and went in.
I had seen the picture before, but it's a pretty good picture and I didn't mind seeing it over. Jane liked it a lot. She happened to be sitting between Ruth and me, and once during the comedy she grabbed my hand as though she had forgotten who she was with. When the picture was over I asked her how she liked it. She looked at me as though she didn't quite understand what I had said. The idea of people not liking a movie had never occurred to her, I suppose.
Some of the people who had been to the movie house were going into a little restaurant across the street when they came out, and I thought we had better follow their example because I wanted to get this done right. We went in and had sandwiches and coffee.
“This makes five times I've been in here,” Jane said.
That was all she said. “That's fine,” I said.
I thought that the girl would fall asleep on the way home but she didn't. She sat up very straight and looked at the road in the yellow light of the headlights.
When we got to the house and I had put the car away I turned on the radio to see if I could get some jazz. The radio was not very good and I could get the station that it was supposed to be on so faintly that it couldn't be appreciated, so I turned on the local country station. Jane went into her room and Ruth came into the room carrying a tray with three drinks on it.
“I don't know how to treat the girl,” she said. “I never had a girl working for me.”
Ruth mixed pretty good drinks. I tasted mine. She had used the brandy.
“You can ask her,” I said. “She might not take it, I suppose.”
Jane came back then, and she said thank you and took the drink and sat down.
“That's liquor, you know,” Ruth said.
“It tastes good,” Jane said.
She might have been drinking lemonade. When she saw that we still had most of our drinks she held her hand around the glass to hide it and pretended that she still had some.
“I'll have another,” I said.
I went to the kitchen with Ruth.
“Shall we get her tight?” Ruth said. “You could jazz her if we got her tight. She's really pretty, and she'd be prettier if you got those awful clothes off her.”
“Balls. We have to live with her.”
Ruth pushed her ass against me.
“I'd rather you laid me anyway,” she said.
She made the third drink with little brandy, but I took the bottle and put some more into the glass.
“If you're going to give her a drink, give her a real drink. But I think two are all she can take.”
I must have put more brandy in that drink than I thought. The girl drank that one slower, and she started tapping her hand on the chair with the music. She had no more sense of rhythm than most women, and she was off the beat most of the time.
“Could I have another?” she asked when the drink was gone. “I'd like another.”
Did she want another, Ruth asked. Ruth told her that it was pretty strong stuff.
“I'd like another.”
“It might do things to you.”
“For Christ's sake, give her a drink,” I said. “And shall I get your knitting?”
“I'll give her a goddamned drink!”
“Is she mad, or something?” Jane said.
“No,” I said. “She talks that way late at night sometimes.”
The drink Ruth brought back for the girl was strong; I could see that just by looking at it, because it was dark. Ruth gave it to her and we both watched her drink it. I was waiting for the girl to fall out of the chair.
“I guess I'll go to bed now.” Jane stood up, but she sat down again. “My leg has gone to sleep.”
“Which one?” I said.
She stretched her legs out in front of her and looked at them. She moved her feet; just her feet. She hit her feet on the floor.
“Both of them,” she said.
Ruth sat on the edge of my chair.
“Go after her,” she said to me. “Now's your chance if you're going to jazz her.”
“I think I want to lie down,” the girl said.
She managed to get to the couch and fall onto it. She lay on her stomach with one leg off the couch. Her dress was pulled up on that side. Her stocking was rolled above her knee and her thigh was bare almost to her hip.
“Try it,” said Ruth, “and if she fights too much you can give her another drink. She'd pass out with another one. Why don't you go on and fuck her, Bill?”
“For Christ's sake, be quiet,” I said.
The girl started to slip from the couch and then pulled herself back onto it. Ruth crossed her legs and pulled her own dress up on her thighs.
“How can you sit there when she's lying there that way? She's too far gone to mind,” Ruth said. “Pull her dress up and make her wiggle! I dare you to fuck her!”
“I must be drunk,” Jane said.
She giggled. Ruth slid off the arm of the chair and ripped open my fly. She stuck her hand in and grabbed my prick.
“Why don't you jazz her, you bastard? Don't say you don't want to: Look at the hard on you've got. I'll put the damn thing in myself!”
Jane said something into the pillows of the couch. I stood up. Ruth looked at me.
“I knew you would,” she said. “Give her the works, Bill. Rip off her pants and slam it into her! Jazz the jelly out of her!”
I put my hand on Ruth's face and pushed her on her ass. I didn't push her hard. I just toppled her over, and then I went past her into the kitchen.
She was still sitting on the floor when I got back with the two water tumblers that held straight brandy, and she was shaking her head as though she couldn't believe what had happened. I offered her one of the glasses.
“You can go to hell,” she said.
But she took the glass and gulped down part of the brandy.
“That's fine brandy,” she said.
She hunched back against the wall and sat there with her knees up and her dress around her waist. I looked over at the girl.
“She shouldn't stay there, I suppose.”
“You told me to give her that drink. And you can't blame me for thinking you wanted to fuck her. You can worry about her now.”
I shook Jane's shoulder and she sat up very suddenly. She clutched my arm to steady herself.
“You'd better go to bed,” I said.
I helped her up and walked behind her to her room next to the kitchen. Ruth came after us with the two tumblers of brandy.
“I'll go along as chaperone,” she said.
Jane undressed automatically, not seeming to notice that we were there, keeping her eyes closed most of the time. She seemed to be able to balance better with her eyes closed, and she looked very pretty and helpless. At her cunt there was a knot of small, black curls, and there were hairs like fine threads around her nipples. When she lifted her legs to take off her stockings, her cunt split open like a red, hairy pea-pod. I turned to Ruth for one of the glasses, because I needed a drink badly about then, and Ruth was staring at Jane's cunt. Then she looked at me.
“Change your mind,” she said. “Now that she has her clothes off it would be easy. Why don't you take her?”
Most of the brandy was gone from the glass she gave me, and the one she was drinking from was still almost full. The girl pushed her head through the top of a pink nightgown and jack-knifed under the covers.
“Come on,” I said. I switched off the light and Ruth and I went upstairs to our room.
“If she were a boy she wouldn't be down there alone,” Ruth said. “I wish she were a boy just that old. I'd give him something to make his fuzz grow.”
She killed the drink and set the glass on the floor beside the bed, and then she lay back and stroked her tits and her belly. She kicked the covers down to her knees and teased herself a while before she put her fingers on her cunt. I remembered many times before when she had done that. It was all familiar. I stood by the window and, standing there, I remembered a lot of things.
“I'd like a boy with a pink little prick to jazz me,” she said. “I'd take him down by the woods where we walked today. And when we came back he'd have something to boast to other boys about! But they wouldn't believe him. Do you know what I'd do? I'd treat him as though he were a man who had driven me wild. I'd tear off my clothes and fling myself in front of him, and he'd never know how awkward he was. What would happen to a boy if I did that, Bill? How would he be when he grew up?”
“He'd be scared into being another Toby,” I said. “He'd piss in his pants as soon as you started.”
I had forgotten how many noises there were in the country at night, and I stood listening to them, trying to pick them apart and know what each one was. There were some that I recognized, and there were a great many more that I could not understand. I tried to give each sound an identity: I would pick one out and try to picture the little green frog puffing out his throat to make it, or I would imagine a black cricket creeping in the grass and sawing with his legs. But when I did that the sound was no longer the way it had been. That is one reason why I do not like to go to public concerts, for when I see a perspiring man scraping a violin the music loses something for me. And the pained, intent faces of the audience at the concert make me want to scream. That is why I stay at home and listen to concerts on the radio, but with jazz it is different. It does not matter if the man who plays it is a ridiculous caricature in an unpressed tuxedo, because it is his own music, and when he hears something in his head that is very beautiful and plays it he is much closer to Beethoven than he is to the man who plays Beethoven's music in a concert hall.
I was thinking of these things, and I did not hear Ruth call me until she called me the second time, and then I turned away from the window.
“Don't you want to jazz me either?”
I walked to the bed and put one knee on it and dragged my cock across her face. She pulled me onto the bed, and I saw that she was about as drunk as she ever got. I grabbed her tits and shook them and I felt for her cunt. Even with the light out I could read the letters M-I-N-E on her belly, and her nipples were very dark. Because of the way she was holding my prick I could not see if the end of it was as dark as her nipples.
I heard a nasal voice speak downstairs.
“I forgot to turn off the radio,” I said.
I put on my robe and left Ruth on the bed and went downstairs and turned it off. I stood there in the room, in the dark, and I heard a dog bark someplace. I waited there a long time, and then I walked to Jane's room.
She was asleep. I found the tumbler I had left there on the bureau and I sat down on the chair drinking what was left of it and I watched the girl. My mind wandered back to that moment when I had stood in the doorway of the room upstairs and watched her looking at the pictures of Ruth, and I wished that I had been able to know what was in her head when she said 'oh' the way she had.
I pushed back the covers on the bed and stood over the girl. The nightgown was up to her belly, and she was lying on her back. I dropped the robe off and stood naked, looking at her. My prick stood out like an arm. I looked at myself and at the girl.
I was careful not to touch her when I lay down, and then I lay stiffly there beside her with my cock sticking up, and I did not move or touch her for a long time.
In her sleep the girl stirred and rolled against me, her thigh against mine, her belly against my hip. I touched her arm, and when she did not move again I covered our bodies and faced her. I touched her tits, her legs, and her belly. Bit by bit I felt for her pussy, until I finally rested my fingers on it. I petted the prickling hair and gradually worked my hand between her thighs. Each movement that I made seemed to take hours, and when I gained something I waited a long time before I went further.
The girl moved when my hand touched her cunt, but she did not wake up.
My heart was so noisy that the sound of it filled the room.
My heart pounding.
The girl stirring.
A dog barking somewhere, and the sound of the bed each time that I moved.
I held my prick against her belly. Then I took her wrist with my thumb and finger and I lifted it carefully and put her hand on my balls. Her hand lay on my balls with no more life than a leaf. The blood in my prick seemed to pound on her wrist. Her cunt, twitching suddenly in my fingers, startled me so that I almost cried out.
I lifted her hand again and laid it on my prick. I closed her fingers, but they fell open and would not stay tight around it. Then I held them in my hand and squeezed them.
I moved her hand up and down, and for a moment I felt her fingers closing, but when I stopped moving her hand they fell open again.
I took my hand from between her thighs and slid my prick in where it had been. For a long time we were together that way, my prick just resting against her hot cunt, and our bellies pressed softly together.
When she moved again I slid away from her, and then I got out of the bed. I covered her shoulders, and then I took the glass from the bureau and put it in the kitchen.
Ruth was asleep when I went up to our room. I crawled quietly into bed and worked her very slowly. When she was awake I fucked her.