She had met Vaughn Simpson only once but she looked forward to working with him, as Libby Talma so charmingly put it. Mrs. Talma had taken to calling her into her office almost every day for discussions on patients. Almost every time she would present the files of future patients for study before the interviews. Rather like Mission: Impossible, thought Susie, but without the tape recorder. She wondered about Libby; the co-director of the Clinic repeatedly urged her to call her by her first name. Was her interest in Susie more than professional? Susie suspected her of having an affair with Chiver-she doubted whether any man not in love could be so under a female colleague's thumb. And yet Libby's eyes seemed entranced by Susie's body. Her stare dwelled on her legs or on the curve of a hipbone. Susie found herself being constantly complimented on her shade of lipstick, brand of perfume, style of clothing.
The story was due at the magazine in less than two weeks. Of course, she could never use any vaguely libelous material about Chiver and Talma, but she might gain insight into their ideas-insight that would find its way into the piece-if she let herself be seduced by one or the other… or both!
The day before, she had lunched with Vaughn in a diner down the road. His manner was so diffident and unassertive that she had wondered about his much-vaunted skill as a professional lover-a skill that was legendary in the corridors of the Clinic. His "cute rate" was extraordinary, better than fifty percent over-all. She wondered what her own would be; of course, she'd never know because she would be quitting her job before any conclusions could be drawn about her efficiency.
The patient with whom they were to work was a twenty-year-old college dropout named Sandy, whose sexual history, after an aborted pregnancy in her seventeenth year, had been exclusively homosexual. She had been in psychiatric therapy for over a year, and she had volunteered to participate in this test of her progress: a bisexual troilistic encounter. Susie was to spend an hour alone with the girl, whereupon they would be interrupted by Vaughn. Vaughn had been chosen for the assignment because of his success with difficult cases-and because his pale, thin body did not present him as too macho to most homosexual women.
Susie waited in her "apartment," dressed in the short linen nightie. The room was warm, and the heater still throbbed. In a fit of bureaucratic extravagance, a small stereo had been added to the room's appointments, and Susie had her own albums to play during lovemaking. Waiting, she put a stack of LP's on the turntable, the first of which was a Carole King record. The last two albums were Rolling Stones-"good fucking music" an old boyfriend had once described it.
She rose immediately at the timid knock on the door.
Sandy's hair was a bright orange-red; she would have assumed it dyed except for the girl's over-all peach complexion. There would, she realized, be a sure way of finding out…
The girl's breasts seemed rounded under her busy-print dress, but they were definitely enclosed in a brassiere. The dress was short, and Susie glanced at the way the stick-thin calves moved up to slightly chubbier thighs. The girl's green eyes sparkled, but the way she carried her body as she walked to the sofa seemed stiff.
Susie introduced herself, and the girl smiled.
"Are you nervous?" she asked Sandy, but the redhead said she wasn't.
She followed the denial with a question of her own, which seemed intended to put the lie once and for all to the first question. "Do you want to get started?"
Susie, taken aback, nodded and rose from the couch. She moved slowly toward the bed and watched Sandy kick off her shoes.
The girl raised her leg, resting the naked sole on the edge of the coffee table. She rolled a garter down her leg, and with it a tan skin of nylon stockings. She cast these onto the floor, then repeated the maneuver with her other leg.
She pulled her dress up almost to her waist. Through white cotton panties Susie could see the patch of bright red pubic hair at her vortex. The girl's thumbs hooked under the elastic waistband and pulled the garment down over then past her snatch-curls. The undies fell down her thighs, and she stepped out of them, letting the dress fall back into place, slightly creased.
She walked toward the bed and sighed; the breasts rustled under the dress fabric. Susie felt a rush of desire; had she not been lying down in bed, the intensity of the sensation would have made her feel dizzy and lose her balance. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Sandy; her fingers dug into Sandy's back, and she was holding her as tightly as she could.
The girl, standing over her, raised on knee to the bed and then pressed her lips wetly against Susie's mouth. The therapist thought the girl's lipstick tasted like candy. She ground her lower teeth against Sandy's lower lip, and Susie thought she could hear a low whimper deep ill the redhead's throat.
The zipper went down its track easily. Susie peeled the dress over Sandy's shoulders. She kept her eyes open; she liked watching the way the young girl closed her own lids, the way her facial muscles relaxed-as though she were dreaming. Susie loosened the hooks of the bra. Relieved, Sandy let herself down against Susie's chest, wiggling the loosened jugs between layers of bra, dress, and Susie's linen gown.
The therapist ran her fingers over the girl's naked back. They seemed to melt into Sandy's perfect flesh; the twenty-year-old bit into her lower lip when Susie's fingertips pushed in at the small of her back. She shifted her stomach and seemed to drive her body closer to her partner. Susie for a moment, imagined Sandy as a child frightened by the dark, clinging to her mother for protection.
Sandy kissed awkwardly; her tonguing was sloppy, her lips pressed over Susie's without moving. She seemed, also, to salivate heavily. She was passive: Susie had to move her arms out of the dress as though she were undressing a five-year-old.
The reward was worth the trouble. Sandy had rounded melon tits with nipples the size of half-dollars. Not the central point, but the areola all around it, was erected, and Susie had only to pass the flat of her index finger over each to make them awake. It was as though she were testing them; and they passed the test. The low moan coming from Sandy's throat had changed into a lambish bleat, as if Susie's fingers, touching her stiffening tits, were causing her the most extreme pain. But when the therapist's hand passed lower, under the jugs, to knead the flesh of her diaphragm, she grabbed hold of Susie's wrist and made her go higher, made her rub the tits faster and harder. They seemed to swell with the touch and grow warm with blood.
Susie found herself becoming more sexually aggressive than she had even been before-with men or women. Sandy was like pulp in her hands as she pushed the young girl to the bed and continued to play with the rounded boobs. With her left hand on the right jug, she put her mouth to the other tit. The sounds were wet as she pulled in and suckled the teat. Sandy stretched her arms and threw them back, enjoying the feel of Susie's warm mouth as it bathed the nipple.
Susie scratched Sandy's stomach raw. She wanted to tease the girl until she'd spread her legs apart, hoist her pud and beg for Susie to go down on her-beg Susie to stick anything up her wet and empty snatch. Sandy rolled her body under the clawing fingernails, but her thighs slammed together and covered her opening. Susie pushed down and jammed the side of her hands up against the cleft, teasing the button while Sandy groaned and licked her lips.
Susie couldn't believe how hot she was getting. She brushed several fingertips over her slash and was surprised at the clammy wetness. She opened her palms and made circles over the sharp-titled breasts, while she bent down and took love-bites out of Sandy's belly. She could smell the girl's vagina below. The odor, a deep fragrant musk, seemed to come from far inside. Her own breasts moved into the curly bush hair, and her own tit passed through the slickened labia.
Her fingers moved to the sides of Sandy's breasts, and she touched the armpits. They were clean of hair, but were sweating profusely. She scratched them and the perspiration seeped under the finger-nails; it felt like being caught in a summer rain. Sandy shifted her body from side to side, turning on her rump, urging Susie to bring her mouth lower. Her own hands were rubbing the sheets as though the rules of the game were that she not touch her partner.
Susie instinctively decided to deny her for yet a moment more. Her tongue grazed the indentation between thigh and pelvis, salty but smooth. The touch of her tongue was so light that she was surprised that Sandy felt it. That the girl did was made clear when she grunted in pain and lifted her ass up off the bed as though she were being levitated. She was a puppet on the single string of Susie's thin tongue.
Where the tongue had gone, now the edges of the therapist's lower teeth passed, and a cry that was almost a whistle pierced the older woman's ears. Mouth innocently closed, her lips passed over the belly between the navel and the vagina.
She held Sandy's legs locked in an embrace. She tickled the undersides of the girl's knees with her fingertips, and then she pressed and scratched at the backs of the calves while Sandy pressed her soles into the bed-and her ass again rose. She made an invisible circle with her tongue on the inside of Sandy's thigh. Sandy giggled, and Susie repeated the circle in the hollow of the opposite thigh. A thin stream of urine passed from the tiny slit, and Sandy jumped up to see what she herself had done; it was a curiosity of her own body.
Susie was not to be distracted. She ran the back of her hand over the pubic area, smoothing the dampness out. Easily satisfied, she put her mouth to the quim and pushed her tongue between the walls. "Oooh… I Oh… I" The grunted exclamations became shorter. The single syllables seemed to curve at their conclusions-gaining in this way a curiously foreign sound as they came, guttural, from Sandy's dry throat.
The flats of her forefingers moved up and down the labia while her tongue wiggled just inside the cavity. Her nose wrinkled with the combinations of the deep hormonal smell of the pussy and the ammonia-odor of the spent pee. She drew her lips over her teeth and sucked in on the clitoris; an ecstatic moan, like delicate music, was Sandy's response-but Susie noticed that the girl's whole body had jolted almost a foot up the bed.
Now her hands tried to control the St. Vitus' dance of the body. She grasped Sandy's buttocks and wrinkled them with her long fingernails. She pulled the cheeks apart until the girl groaned with the tearing at the base of her spine. She lowered her tongue between the legs and moved the tip over the asshole. The lower body swiveled, almost snapping, and Sandy moved further up the bed.
When Susie had begun to slow down, wanting to draw the cunnilingus out, she realized that the knocking sound she heard was the brush of Sandy's skull against the wall. She tried to ignore it, and she ran the tips of her fingers into the hollows of the deep-pink thighs. Sandy's legs strained further apart as if in a balletic split. Susie moved her mouth up and down between rectum and cunt, the way a child licks an all-day lollipop.
Susie was stiff, and her own perspiration was making her hot. She stretched her body and lay at Sandy's side. The girl was almost oblivious to the change in position. Susie kept her finger drilled to the clitoris and Sandy pushed up against it, moving her legs up and down, apart and together, around the therapist's hand. Susie punctured the hole with a single finger-the index-and the walls parted as she pushed it in to the base. The third finger rubbed uselessly against the curve of the girl's buttocks, and so Susie decided to shove it inside the ging.
She was leaning on her elbow and if, in her own state of excitement, she could have formulated a wish, it would have been that Sandy help her by holding one cheek to the side so she could shove the digit deep within the posterior hole. The girl, however, was helpless, so she rolled her fingertip over the asshole as she might move a thumbtack into plaster. She rested for a moment when she had both fingers in their separate cavities; her whole hand ached, and the fingers especially. But Sandy's body urged her on: she wasn't milking the girl with her fingers, the girl was milking her fingers with the inside of her body…
The steady sound of tapping on the wall-plaster had become a rhythmic, dull thud. Sandy's face showed signs of spiritual transformation; all reason, all sense of time and place, had been pushed out by the convulsions the twin fingering had caused. Her skull rolled on her neck, and the top of her head slammed the wall. She seemed, with her mouth half open, unaware of the pain, but Susie couldn't help but wince. Her make-up had begun to smear, particularly the mascara, with the sweat that was diluting it. Her body rose up to Susie's fingers, pushing inside the holes at the same moment with the same movement. Sandy inhaled them. Her body relaxed on the counterstroke, pretending to give them up, but in the next second it had sucked them in again. The anal cavity seemed to Susie to be growing bigger, looser, easier to finger-fuck, while the pussy was tighter and harder to separate. The lines of washed-out make-up reminded Susie of a modern Magdalene-of Irish parentage.
Susie was on her side, and for a moment she considered rolling to the other side of Sandy's body, because her hand felt like it would fall off. Still, the satisfaction of watching the girl in paroxysms of sexual heat made her go on-to see how turned on she could be before she would climax. She was already in a trance.
Susie raised her leg over Sandy's thigh. She tried to bring her cunt in against the leg, but she gave up; there wasn't enough pressure, and the girl couldn't give her any help. She pressed her cunt against Sandy's shoulder, then tried kissing her.
It was like kissing a corpse. Her tongue slid past the lips, and she was amazed at the feel. She moved her own lips back and forth to spread the moisture, but the inside of her own mouth was just as dry as Sandy's. She was a little repulsed and drew back, not without a tingle of fear at the intensity of Sandy's passion-the passion she had caused with the two fingers moving, steadily and without special imagination, up the vagina and asshole in the same stroke, stroke after stroke.
She touched her ear with her tongue, and Sandy moved to face her. But her green eyes were glazed, and it was like visiting a friend still in a coma. Excited by her own power, she dug her fingers even deeper inside the quim and the anus. Sandy squirmed and groaned as if she were being beaten instead of finger-fucked.
At last, when she made her backward movements, Sandy's body simply refused to give her up. Both holes slipped right down the bones like the snapping mouths of deep-throated reptiles. She shoved herself on them as though they were her possessions, which they now seemed to be-even to Susie. She felt her hand owned by the girl's pumping body.
Sandy slammed her head against the wall. Susie's whole body was tense lest she crack the skull open, but for a moment she was oblivious even to the harm she could cause herself; her body had become a machine and there were no categories for pleasure or pain. Susie pushed the fingers back inside the warm coves with such force that she realized the penetration was more and more like rape with each stroke. When they were inside, they could almost-it seemed-touch.
She inhaled Sandy's right tit into her mouth and rubbed the nipple against the roof, grinding her teeth over the cream-pink breast. As her fingers had hypnotized the girl, Sandy's two holes had hypnotized her. Only when she touched the breast with her mouth was the trance broken. The only way she could drive Sandy from the precipice into the orgasm itself was to move faster. That was hard; her arm was so tired that just the thought of pushing faster made the blood rush to her heart with force. But she took a strange kind of pity on the girl whose body seemed destined to lie there forever, bobbing up to consume again and again her pumping fingers. It was the myth of Tantalus come true: her orgasm would forever be out of reach if Susie did not satisfy her, did not deliver her. She could not deliver herself.
Blood raced through Susie's arm as if it had been freed from arteries and veins, as though just flowing inside the tensed muscle. She pushed both fingers inside, and she was "hitting" Sandy, attacking her. A yelp announced the start of orgasm: the pelvis undulated and the rump smashed the mattress into a symphony of weird and ugly wheezes, while her throat rasped out cries of orgasm. Susie's fingers were wet from the inside of her; even the ass had become a slippery funnel, juiced and limitless, a pit with the other side of the sky as its bottom.
When it was over, when Sandy's body rose and fell only with her breathing, which, after a minute or so, became softer and more even, still Susie could not pull the two digits from their tunnels. They were numb with the sweat and the lubrication; each inch had memorized the texture of the hole it had plowed. Finally Sandy pushed her body up, holding her own breasts down with her palms so that they didn't bounce, and in this way she expelled Susie from her. The air hit her fingertips like a sting.
She looked into Sandy's face. She wouldn't have admitted it to herself, but what she had expected to see was gratitude. Instead she saw dull and complacent eyes staring at the ceiling. The mouth was curved into the start of a grin, but the smile could only have been described as self-satisfied. A wave of disgust passed through Susie, but she rejected it because she realized she would need Sandy to get herself off. And right now, in envy of the pleasure Sandy had received, she wanted the girl to help her come.
She waited another minute or so, hoping the girl would return the affection she had taken. She did not. She seemed to Susie to be waiting for a prop, perhaps the traditional post-coital cigarette. Her breathing was normal now, and so the older woman decided to give the younger a more obvious clue or, perhaps, an incentive.
She got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. When she returned a moment later, she was carrying in her hand a six-inch plastic dildo, entrapped in an elastic waistband. She stood at the foot of the bed while Sandy eyed it. But the girl was surprised when Susie, separating her legs for her, started to push the garment and its attachment up her long legs.
The instrument stood out at erect attention from the copper-colored pubic hairs, almost covering the glistening twat. The labia still bordered it at points-distractingly, Susie thought. Sandy looked perfectly ridiculous-with the accent on perfectly. She was a huge-pricked, big-boobed redhead with a beautiful face-green eyes, deep red-pink lips, and an aquiline nose.
Sandy raised her hips almost grudgingly when Susie's hands rolled the straps up her rounded, naked buttocks. She seemed detached as her therapist straddled her legs and wobbled toward the plastic stump, pulling it-toward her. Susie rubbed the bulb at the top of the shaft against her labia, and she brought her- clit down on the exact center of the dome. Breathing in deeply, she sat down on it. She smiled as though a hunger had been filled when five or so inches passed into her snatch, stretching the sides of the hole into a near-perfect circle.
The moist cunt-muscle hugged the dildo, and she ground her lower body around it, feeling the hunk touch all of the twat-tissue as it moved toward the womb.
Sandy did not move her hips, did not push up and try to drown the cock inside of Susie. She lay there as if daring her older partner to obtain a climax. For Susie it became like psychological warfare. The girl's lips were pursed together, and she did not smile. But when the therapist's fingers stroked teasingly at the outsides of the redhead's spreading hips, she could feel the response within her pussy. She was no longer just dipping her box down on the erection. It had a life of its own which she accentuated when she cupped her hands on Sandy's boobs. She squeezed them until the tits became sharp and tickled the insides of her palms.
Susie understood how little control Sandy had over her body- She moved it as though possessed. She made fun of the patient, indirectly and without Sandy's knowing it, when she herself began to wipe her tongue over her lips in imitation of violent, lewd passion.
One hand still on a ripe melon-breast, she used her other palm to massage her own belly as she slid up and down the dildo; her sexual lubrication oiled the way nicely. When she had come all the way down, she twisted on the rod and let her pubic hair tangle into Sandy's lighter weeds. As she pushed up, she reached below and tickled the girl's clit with her finger, rubbing the small fragment of flesh bark against the hair and skin. This drove the younger woman wild, and a half-dozen strokes later she was a whimpering, clawing mass of flesh. Now she reached up to Susie and grabbed the therapist's free-swinging breasts. Animal sounds struggled from her throat and seemed to hesitate on her lips.
Her excitement didn't, however, have anything to do with her skill, which was limited. Susie realized painfully that Sandy couldn't move her stomach and hips in a way that would satisfy either of them. It was all her work, but the dilations inside her cunt were already hinting at an orgasm and the gaping hole kept swallowing the prick each time it threatened to relinquish it. Her strokes became less elaborate-there were fewer twistings and turnings-and instead became more simple, even blunt At last, she was crudely bumping her pussy down on the slab of plastic, and the tingling in her stomach grew more intense each time it was buried. The sides of the hole wrapped themselves around it tighter than before, and she was moving so fast that Sandy saw her as a blur of large breasts and flat stomach.
Sandy had grabbed the shaft at the base and was pulling on the instrument, rubbing it over her clitoris while Susie tried to smash all the way down on it.
The therapist was so wet, in those final strokes, that she pushed up off the plastic head. She arched her spine and ran her pud on the underside of the tool before she caught her breath, grabbed it, and aimed it at the waiting lips. She was so well lubricated that the fake penis passed through the coot-flaps without any resistance. Susie sighed easily and moaned softly as she pressed her own walls together around the object.
She leaned forward, first supporting her weight on her palms, but she slid helplessly down on Sandy's prostrate body, pinning her beneath her breasts. The tits just missed each other as the dick, implanted to full penetration inside the therapist's hole, twitched again and again between the walls, making her come. The twitching was even more intense during the last waves, for it was caused by the movement of Sandy's hand as she manipulated her own soggy pleasure-button. While Susie's body was sputtering to a halt, the ripe girl beneath her was still squirming out the rhythm of her own climax-climax that seemed to last forever, Susie thought, hazily but enviously.
She wanted nothing more than to raise up off the dildo as soon as he recovered her breath-and she did. The instrument gleamed with her fluids; it seemed strange, pointing stiff and upwards, undeflated, while the rest of Sandy's body was limp and tired.
The two women rested in silence until they heard a knock on the door. Susie started to get up off the bed and go to answer, but Vaughn walked in without waiting. He looked at both women, but most closely at Sandy, who was a stranger to him. He seemed to like what he saw.
He came to the bed and kneeled. He glanced at the girl as if he were a father fucking his daughter in for sleep. There was something-everything-timid about him. Sandy, Susie noted, was responding well; she rewarded him with a spontaneous smile-more than rare in the last hour-as he softly passed his open hand over her belly. The stomach was not flat, but rose in a small curve rather like a pout.
He lifted his hand and pressed only the fingertips down. Sandy giggled. He moved the fingers up and down, playing the piano on the flesh below her navel. She drew her legs up, bending them at the knees, and then spread her thighs wide. He made her wait only a moment before passing lower and rubbing the twat-lips with the flats of four fingers at once.
He was crouched on his toes, but he didn't seem to mind. He lowered his head to Sandy's belly, but there was little that was clearly erotic in the way he kissed her. His lips were pressed shut, and he seemed to be delighting in her smell. Appreciatively, Sandy ran her fingers through his hair. Delicately, he pushed his other hand up against her beasts' underside. The one jug, propped up, appeared bigger and wider than its companion. She looked down at it, pleased by the trick he had performed. A further reward was the way the nipple and areola hardened.
He rose to his full height gracefully. He had a certain dignity in the way he carried his body. Susie could feel the drama in the room; even the insolent twenty-year-old sensed his command, his aura of quiet authority. Susie herself surprised; at lunch, even in the first few moments, as he made subtle love to Sandy's stomach and breast, he had seemed meek. Suddenly she understood and grinned inwardly; he was sneaky-he surprised women with his strength after he had demonstrated his gentleness.
Both women watched as he undressed. He loosened his collar and accomplished the male equivalent of a striptease as he slowly and even suspensefully undid the row of simple buttons. He appeared to hesitate just before pulling the cotton away from the button, then grudgingly proceeded.
His cock was so big that its outline could be guessed at even under the loose-fitting, silk boxer shorts. Standing in his underwear without a T-shirt in bare feet, he looked like a bantam-weight fighter. Staring at the drapery, he casually stepped out of the trunks. His penis dangled six inches, thick and limp, from the bottom of his coarse-haired belly.
Susie leaned over and opened her mouth wide over Sandy's breasts. The girl stiffened, but then relaxed as Susie sucked the areola softly. The oral message was slow and soothing. A new tension filled her body though, when Vaughn stood before them both. Reminding Susie of a snake dancer, he stood smiling as his cock twitched itself to full erection.
When it was stiff, he turned his wrist and moved his cupped palm under it, stopping just before the hand could brush the glans. He pressed his forefinger to the covering skin just below the bulbous head, and the tissue moved a little on the long shaft. His thumb curled over the curved side of the phallus, and he bumped his knees into the bed.
"Touch me," he said, and Sandy raised her hand. She gripped the dong and squeezed out a single drop of thick sperm. "You too, Susie," he said admonishing his fellow therapist. The older of the two women then ran her fingers through the wrinkled skin of the scrotum. The balls bounced under the pressure of her touch, and she pushed the hard root of.the penis. Vaughn did not blink an eyelid, but waited there, knees drilled to the side of the mattress, until he was satisfied with the homage both girls paid to the cock.
He rolled his palms over Sandy's shoulder, and nearly pushed her down when he fell forward. His right leg moved automatically, stroking with its sole the outside of Susie's thigh. He was grabbing out at random with his right hand, and Susie liked the way his fingers bit down, firmly but not painfully, on her breast. She squeezed his wrist with her thumb and forefinger, and his fingertips danced over the brown areola.
Susie was growing hot, but she assumed most of Vaughn's attention would be centered on Sandy. She could not resist the impulse to wipe her sloppy cleft with the side of her hand, jamming a sharp knuckle down on the clitoris, which sprang up a tiny bit more with each rub, until her whole pelvis was swimming with blood.
Both her hands began to work the pud, drawing from the walls a thin film of lubrication. She dipped just inside the pussy and spread the juice over the outside folds. She oiled the whole terrain of curly beaver hair; as her hips pumped the bed, she brought her fingertips to her nose for one second and sniffed herself.
She had been wrong, though, about the way Vaughn would use them. She sensed movement toward her on the mattress and opened her eyes to see that Sandy had rolled over to face her. "Eat her, Sandy," Vaughn whispered, his throat raw and evil-sounding.
Sandy crawled down the bed and, with Susie's cooperation, spread Susie's thighs open on the wound. The moisture surprised her. Her tongue wagged over the clitoris with an enthusiasm that surprised Susie; she was certain the energy was the result of Vaughn's intervention. It was like a sharp nail being driven in her cunt to feel Sandy's soft tongue pass over that clitoris and then beat it back against the raw folds of flesh. "Stick your fingers up her snatch," the male therapist said; his legs were spread wide and he seemed to be "riding" her naked back, his stiff penis under him like a saddle. He whispered the words into the girl's ear, twisting his lips against her neck. He reached behind him-egging on his horse-and shot three fingers inside Sandy's crack.
This time it was not just the lips, nor the tongue, but the whole mouth that charged over the hole instead. The sides of the aperture changed shape with the assault, and the vagina sucked Sandy's mouth inside. The redhead's face was like a child's pressed against a bakery window.
Vaughn rose off the young girl's back and sidled down until his frame was even with her back. Susie looked down and saw him take both of Sandy's cheeks in his hands and spread them wide. He was bucking his hips as he tried to plant his cock between. He jolted forward, and a meek little groan from Sandy's mouth did not say whether the girl wanted him to fuck her an ally, or whether she wished him to stop. It was clear as she continued to perform cunnilingus on the therapist, that she would not object forcefully enough to dislodge him. One grunt was so eloquent that Susie knew it was the stroke that had penetrated her. When he had forced even more of the prick inside, in subsequent thrusts, Sandy's tone was almost birdlike, longing half-notes as the early dog-water smeared itself off on the interior of the bung-hole.
Sandy's entire face was working on Susie's sopping-wet beaver. The tongue circled the hole, flickering the clitoris, while the lips bore down hard and distended the opening. Her fingertips were combing the sweaty hair and occasionally they slid into the hole itself. Susie grabbed one hand and made her play with her breasts. The girl scratched the jug and pinched the areola, teasing it to a painful throbbing erection.
Vaughn was half inside Sandy when he pushed his fingers down inside her quim, testing the moisture. He twisted them inside the ring of flesh and pulled them out wet. He rubbed the moisture against the flattened side of his prick and pushed in deeper than before. He sighed as the dry flesh of the anal cavity pressed on the prick and made him feel the moisture he'd applied. He sucked in Sandy's ear, and her stomach pressed against the mattress. The ear was the crucial zone; when he tongued there, her whole body jumped. He stuck his index finger inside her cunt and probed her steadily. To Vaughn she had that peculiar smell of women when they are being stroked in the twin cavities. It was the scent of a woman's insides being turned out. At orgasm they would spring back within-sucking, drawing, eating his finger and his prick, reclaiming her body for her own. For the moment, though, he could poke her and fill her with himself, and she was helpless to do anything but writhe, with her stomach on the bed and her chubby rump jiggling under his belly.
The thought of what her face would look like when she was coming excited him, made the blood pump fast through his diaphragm and stomach. He rubbed his wet lips up and down her ear and forced her head against the bed so he could watch, by her profile, the forms that her pleasure would take. She squeezed her eyes shut as he plunged deep inside her anus, and sucked her lower lip between her teeth when he pulled an inch or two out. Spittle was draining from the comers of her mouth, and she broke the single unending moan rhythmically with snorts as he shoved the poker to full penetration and kept it there for half a beat, every other stroke.
The come broke out of the slit so hot that even as he climaxed he knew it; it felt like burning piss. But he surged up and down the small.cavity until he was drained, and he didn't let himself be distracted by the way Susie urged Sandy's mouth to go on. "Suck…! Yeah…! Suck…! Suck…!" The words were clipped; each time she spit the syllable out, a new undulation would fill her twat and her hips and pelvis swung out again. In the last strokes, Sandy's mouth just rested on the pud, and she let herself be taken by the cock driving up her asshole. Susie pushed her butt into the bed and tried to rub the external genitalia over the slack surface of Sandy's mouth. Even as she came, she was completely conscious of how to manipulate her orgasm for her greatest pleasure; she was masturbating, jacking-off, with the use of Sandy's lips.
Vaughn was dead-tired, but in a single spasm of will he arched his spine and pulled his prick from the girl's rectum. The walls of the tight hole sprang closed the second the bulb pulled out. The lining was washed with the warm semen, and the hole felt raw.
"There's this therapy we have," he said, pausing between each word for breath, "and we call it-it's a kind of game-Empathy." He looked at her, and she was staring back, blank and unperturbed. "Would you like to play?"
"How do you play?"
He flashed a grin at Susie, who was guessing which form the game would take. "Did you use the dildo already?" he asked his colleague, who nodded. She reached down off the bed and brought the fake cock out from where it was hidden under the coverlet. It was dry now, but it still smelled of her insides. Vaughn pressed the head to his mouth and inhaled deeply on the odor. "That's nice," he said. "Who fucked whom?" He looked from face to face as though to elicit the confession by moral force. "She tucked me" Susie said.
"Good. Then you've-" He paused as he stared deep inside the green pools, over which the lids blinked repeatedly. "You've had a little practice in what it feels like to be a man. That's what the game is. Empathy! Now, what I want you to do, is pretend you're a male homosexual and violate me from behind. Stick this thing-" He hoisted it up in the air like a torch. "-up my ass. You can strap it above your hole, so Susie can lean in from behind and give you head while you're com-holing me. Understand?"
The girl seemed in awe of the elaborate request. He handed her the attachment. She bent her legs at the knees, raised one foot at a time and then, lifting herself off the bed as she arched her spine, she pulled the cock and strap up her hips and onto her small belly.
Vaughn gestured for the two women to move away from each other, and he spread out on his stomach between them. Susie thought his muscular ass looked inviting at the top of his sprawled limbs. Sandy hesitated, but she was goaded into action when Vaughn asked her if anything was wrong. "Oh, no," she muttered in a little-girl voice and put her body against his. The cock stuck between his thighs and started to rub inefficiently. "Stick it in," he said in a soft voice, rather exasperated, so Susie held one cheek while the girl screwed the end of the plastic dong inside the reluctant bung-hole.
Susie looked at his face; she was surprised that he seemed to be in genuine pain. But, gritting his teeth, he said "Good, good!" when Sandy shoved the prick further and deeper. He was sweating, and when she jammed the first few inches inside at one stroke, he sighed deeply. After that he was easier, and within a dozen strokes he was pushing his rump up against her belly, trying to signal her that she could penetrate even deeper. His arms reached behind and grabbed her butt-cheeks. The touch of his sweaty fingers on the girl's naked flesh did more than any subtle hints could; she began to ride him like a bucking bronco, and Vaughn appeared to like it, grunting to punctuate each stroke.
Susie moved to the foot of the bed on her knees. She stared at the hanging flaps of the pinkish slot. She put her hand against the hole, but her touch was tentative. Heat seemed to steam out of the girl's pussy. She rubbed the labia until the flats of her fingers slid with the grease that lubricated them. Her other hand massaged the sweaty small of Sandy's back; she could detect the strain of movement as it coursed up the girl's spine. "Suck me," Sandy told her without emotion, and Susie's fingers slid up to the anus while she bowed her mouth to the pit. She sucked in the external folds of the snatch, and Sandy pushed down on her tongue. She could feel the clit growing, but she didn't move the tongue's tip, just kept it close over the button.
The younger woman's body started to slide against her mouth. The beaver was so wet that the clit kept slipping from her lips. The faster she sucked, the more violent were the strokes Sandy applied to Vaughn's asshole. The man's stomach moved imperceptibly up and down against the bed, and his own cock was ready to spurt from the subtle friction. He pushed up, throwing his ass into Sandy's pumping stomach, and he placed his hand under his penis. He rubbed his fingers up and down the shaft as she fucked him, stretching the anal cavity wide and gorging him with the thickness of the plastic shaft. The glue sputtered out the slit and he went limp as Sandy pushed in regularly. Susie, her head close to both their crotches, smelled the sticky cream and pulled m hard on Sandy's beaver-flaps.
The girl came, making the last strokes of the dildo wild and twisting. Slowly her rhythm became uneven and died.