Sputtering, Joanne tried to break free of that crazy, unexpected assault, but it was like trying to take a leech off her flesh while wearing gloves. Alice reached in, grabbed for Joanne's tits, found them, tugged, pulling and kneading until the nipples were stiff and agitated against the fabric of Joanne's blouse. Alice panted heavily into Joanne's mouth, thrust her tongue inside and began to wiggle it, and then she started undoing the blouse.
She did it in a hurry, ripping buttons off, tearing the thing open all the way down to the waist. Her hand shot into the blouse and she was holding Joanne's tit, still kissing her, and she started pinching off the nipple which crowned the firm round tit in her tight grip. Joanne squirmed and fought, and her foot slipped on a throw tug. She felt herself falling, but Alice fell with her, and Joanne wound up on the bottom, still as pinned as she had been when she was standing up. "Stop it!" she moaned, slapping and kicking impotently. One of her shoes fell off, hitting the floor with a thump, and as she kept kicking, so did the other shoe. Her skirt was pulled up to her waist, and she could feel the floor through the thinness of her white panties. "Will you for God's sake let me up?" she stormed, but the younger girl was surprisingly strong and towed no intention of releasing her prey.
Alice started kissing the older woman's face and neck. She slurped her way into the undone top of her blouse, pushing it aside with her hands, and she got her lips firmly affixed to the straining tip of Joanne's left nipple.
"Aaaaaiieeeeeee!" Joanne screeched, pounding the floor with her fist. "Stop it stop it stop itttttttt!"
But Alice kept sucking, and she had one of her hands lower now, sliding it on the smooth firm upper curves of Joanne's thighs. Her fingers had a disconcerting way of slipping back and forth over the well-filled crotch of Joanne's tight panties, and it seemed they knew what they were doing. They began to trace the outline of Joanne's slit in the clinging nylon, pushing into the gash. Alice's hair smelled like jasmine and there was a sweet floral scent arising from her, but it was almost overwhelmed by the raw perspiration forming in all the hollows of Joanne's body. What in the name of God was happening to her? What kind of woman had her husband taken up with, for the love of slit?
Alice pushed aside the crotchstrip of Joanne's panties, got her finger in. The pubic hairs crackled as she stroked them, twined her way amid their clustering curls, and then she was fingering Joanne's slit itself, teasing the plump moist labes, getting at the smaller, more tender lips just inside, the tissue ringing the mouth of Joanne's hole itself. "Oh, no!" Joanne moaned as that finger wiggled and jiggled and popped within, stroking its way up and down her ticklish vulva, massaging her pussy's antechamber from clitoris to tunnel opening. Joanne began to sob and shake and plead for mercy, but she could not seem to break Alice's oral fix on her nipple.
Not even when Alice lifted her face, smiled up at Joanne in the sweetest, most innocent manner Joanne had ever seen, then dropped her head and began to suck the other nipple, this time using teeth and tongue as well as lips. She drooled her spit all over the end of Joanne's tit, she chewed the tender but pliable erection of the nipple, bit into the soft smooth flesh around the areola, and she bathed it all in her spittle, using her tongue to work the frothy drool around and into Joanne's skin. "Mmmmm," she puffed as she sucked, and there was a curiously intriguing vibration around and around Joanne's nipple. It was something like the action of the vibrator she'd exhibited for Tom last evening, but there was a subtle, significant difference. This vibrating had nothing to do with batteries. It was human, it came from a human mouth, and it fluctuated in patterns she couldn't predict in advance, so that the pressure let up without warning and then came back, strengthened anew, buzzing like a bee around her nipple's stubby peak.
Joanne's hand stopped thumping on the floor and she lay almost motionless. "Oh!" she moaned as that invading finger began to wiggle in and out of her pussy, punching her with short but effective strokes. She rolled over onto her side, Alice moving with her, still sucking, still finger-fucking, and she began to breathe heavily, her tit lifting and falling against Alice's mouth. She felt a thin flow of wetness start in her cunt as well, and she knew that her juices were bathing Alice's finger, making things that much easier for the wicked digit as it continued to probe Joanne's cunt.
"I don't know what you're doing," Joanne whimpered, "but I wish you'd stop! Please! Don't do that any more! Take your finger out of me! Let me up! You're biting – softer, oh, do it softer – yes, like that, just like that! No, wait, come back, I think – no – I don't know what I think…"
Eyes fluttering like those of a frightened bird, she sat up, puffing her blouse shut over her bare, moist tits, trying to slide her skirt back down to a decent position. Alice was squatting on the floor beside her, knees apart, and once again she could see the girl's crotch where the skirt wasn't long enough to cover it in front. And now – now she was positive she could also see a thin line of moisture dampening Alice's panties. Alice smiled, gave a little shrug. She was obviously quite pleased with herself. "What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?" Joanne demanded, holding her torn blouse shut. Her knuckles were white and her head felt very giddy.
"Turning you on, I think," Alice replied. "Maybe turning both of us on?" She lifted her eyebrows, tilted her head to one side, and gave Joanne a quizzical look. "So?" she added. "Wasn't that better than some yucky vibrator? God, those things are obscene! Fingers are a lot nicer, if you can't find anything else, and somebody else's fingers – mine for example – can be better than best, if you know what I mean."
"How did you know – I mean…"
"I was talking to Tom this morning, before his first class. Wow, you know you really scoped him out with that! He said it was almost like watching you with another man, and I said, 'Well, isn't that what you're trying to drive her to?' And he just looked at me, all weird-eyed and everything – oh, of course I know who you are! I knew it as soon as you came in the door. Tom has your picture in his office. I used to see it every day while we were balling, till he finally started feeling guilty and put it in a drawer. I used to look at you and think, Wow, Mrs. Hickman, you oughta be here seeing what your old man's doing to me. Like, the reason you came over here is because you found out, isn't it? I'm not telling you something you didn't already know, am I? But just for the sake of formality, I'm Alice Custer and you're Joanne Hickman. Don't you think we have enough in common that we ought to be friends, really?"
Joanne sat back. She let her hand drop, and the blouse fell open again but she didn't notice. She was too busy staring at Alice and the frank, open expression on the young girl's face, and she was asking herself what in the hell is going on here? Really? What????
"You liked it, didn't you?" Alice went on, reaching for Joanne's hand. She took it in her own, squeezed it softly. Her eyes met Joanne's and she smiled with her eyes as well as her lips. "I used to feel really sorry for you, you know? Tom was making such a big deal over me and I knew he was selling you short at home, but there wasn't much I could do about it, I mean, you know how it is, but when he told me about what you did last night, I thought, wow, that lady is desperate! And then when you came over here and did that corny act as a lady interviewer, I thought, why not do something really nice for her? As a way of saying I'm sorry, I mean. Not that I'm really all that sorry, or anything, because, well, you already know that your old man is pretty hot stuff, but…"
"Why don't you shut the bloody hell up far a minute?" Joanne said, and she leaned across the foot or so of distance between them. She put her hand on Alice's shoulder and she leaned into the girl and kissed her fully on the lips. And as she did, she squeezed Alice's hand where it was clasped in her own, and she brought her other hand down the front of Alice's t-shirt until she'd found one of the girl's pear-shaped tits. She pressed her palm down upon the tit and its rigid little nipple and she pushed Alice back onto the floor, herself atop, and she hesitated only a second or two. "It's my turn now, I think," she breathed into Alice's sweet-scented, wet mouth, and she pulled up the girl's t-shirt and fisted the fleshy tit that seemed to jump at her hand, eager to get inside and be caressed.
"Oh, okay," Alice grinned, and she began to lick at Joanne's face.
The two women groveled together on the floor, and before she knew it, Joanne had Alice sitting up while she pulled the t-shirt off over her head. She leaned back, took a good look at her competition. Alice's tits were larger than Joanne's, but not too much larger. They had more hang to them, however, and the nipples were tiny-little pinpoint erections. The girl's nips were as pink as candy, and they stuck out for almost an inch, thin and hard spears of erectile tissue. Joanne sighed, covered the tits with her hands, felt the spear-like nipples burning her flesh. She squeezed more boldly, and Alice covered Joanne's hands with her own, purring, her eyes shut, her lips fluttering. "Oooh, that feels nice, really nice," she said. "You know what I really like about making it with another woman? She doesn't bruise you. She knows how to touch something delicate. Guys – well, most guys, not counting your old man – think that tits are made out of rubber. They want to stretch them out of shape and bounce them off the ceiling or something, really tacky, you know, and…"
"Shut up," Joanne said. "I don't even know why I'm doing this, but I know why I feel like stuffing a rag in your mouth. Do you always talk this much?"
"Only when I'm excited," Alice said. "And I'm really excited right now. I mean, I used to look at your picture while Tom was putting the blocks to me. Sometimes I'd stare at you while I was leaned over the desk and he was giving it to me doggy-style, and I'd wonder, why does it have to be this way? Like, why do we all have to sneak around and do things on the sly? You looked like a really nice person, you know, and there was the sexiest little glimmer in your eyes in that picture, and I'd think, wow, she's cool. I know she's cool. What if…"
Joanne stifled the girl's mouth with her hand. Alice grabbed at the fingers, worked them apart, got them into her mouth two at a time. She began to suck them and lick her way up and down, into the webbing where the fingers spread from the hand, back up to the nails. From time to time she looked up at Joanne, and her eyes were sparkling with delight. How, Joanne wondered, could I have thought this silly young girl was any threat to my marriage?
Because she was! Joanne could see behind the facade, we the youthful immaturity that was at the core of Alice Custer, but Tom couldn't. And she'd heard enough eavesdropping on the intercom to know that Tom had some dangerous ideas about Alice. After all, he'd said something about the possibility of them being together all the time, hadn't he? She'd talk him to death, Joanne decided. But she hadn't yet, had she? No, there was much more possibility that Tom would simply close his ears and let Alice fuck him to death first.
Was she really that good in the sack? Joanne took a deep breath. I think I'm going to find out, she told herself: "We can't stay here," she told Alice. "Is there someplace else?"
"Sure, there's the bedroom," Alice grinned, standing up with Joanne. She had her t-shirt in one hand she was playing with her nipples as she led Joanne across the small but neat living room, into the bedroom. Her au wiggled as she walked, and the longer back part of the skirt twittered round her ankles.
"Here we are," Alice said, opening the door. It was about as big as the living room, the walls painted in a fresh-looking coat of pink. A teddybear sat on the top of a chest of drawers and there were pictures everywhere – photographs in and out of frames, and a couple of bold but amateurish watercolors. One was of a nude male. Joanne leaned closer, took a good look at it. The model had been her husband. He was posed on a couch, probably the one in Alice's living room, and he was naked. His cock was erect, and it looked gigantic in the picture. "Oh," Alice said, leaning over Joanne's shoulder. As she did, she reached around and cupped Joanne's tit where it hung from her undone blouse. "Do you like that? I really think he's a beautiful guy, you know? Not macho – but something like, oh, I don't know, like Al Pacino, maybe. You know, it's weird, but I started balling him because I wanted to get a good grade in his class. Whole classic brownnose syndrome, I guess. But the more we did it, oh, wow! The wilder it made me feel, and I think I just got hooked on him. Oh, what am I telling you for? You know what he's like! Zowweee, huh?"
"He was," Joanne agreed, watching Alice undo her skirt, watching the skirt slide down Alice's legs. She had good legs, a little fuller-thighed than Joanne thought really attractive, but the curves were all there, and they did curve, didn't they? Alice put her hands on her hips and posed, and she was really quite a nice looking girl, much more so than Joanne had thought at first sight. Of course, Joanne hadn't been kissed and masturbated and sucked on when she made her first evaluation of Alice, either. "He was," Joanne said, "until he lost interest in me."
"Oh, I'm really sorry," Alice said, so sincere it could bring tears to your eyes, "I told you, I didn't think it would get as deep as it has. Let me make it up to you, hmmm?" And she came to Joanne, helped her out of blouse and skirt, knelt at Joanne's feet and pulled down the older woman's panties as well. "Nice," Alice said, looking up. "I mean, it's really cute, you know? Not a lot of cunts are good to look at, if you see what I mean. Some of them are kinda ugly, with the labes hanging out and stretching halfway to the lady's knees, and I guess it's just nature's way, but I always get kinda queasy when I see something like that, and I don't know if I want to lick them or not, you know…"
She was like a fucking magpie! Joanne put her hands on Alice's head and said, "Eat it, would you?" and she pulled Alice's face into her crotch. Alice reached up, grabbed Joanne's ass, and it was a good thing she did, because the girl knew how to eat a pussy. "Oh, Christ!" Joanne moaned as the tongue began to play wickedly across her labes, between them and out again, brushing with clockwork precision across the tip of Joanne's stiffened clit. Ronnie had eaten her yesterday, or tried to, but he was so inexperienced. There was nothing amateurish about Alice Custer. When she licked a pussy, she licked a pussy.
"Let me sit down," Joanne panted, staggering back toward the edge of the queen-size bed. She planted her ass on the bed and Alice came with her, not stopping for a moment in her gay eating of Joanne's snatch. She kept purring and slurping as she mouthed, and she had her fingers on Joanne's labes, pulling them open, baring the red button of Joanne's clit so she could lick it and kiss it and work it with her playful tongue. "Sweet Jesus!" Joanne groaned, reaching up to caress her itching tits. "Sweet, sweet Jesus!"
Sweet Jesus indeed! She'd come here only to get a look at the girl her husband was screwing on the side. She had not expected that she would wind up on the girl's bed, with her legs spread, being eaten by the randy tongue of Tom's student mistress. Where did I lose control? she asked herself. When I thought about Lisa? When she put her hand on my leg? Or when she fought me onto the floor and started to play with my cunt. God, this can't be happening!
But it was, and she knew that for certain as soon as Alice's tongue began to thrust like a wet dick into the convulsing mouth of her pussy. She reached for Alice's head, stroked the frizzy red-blonde hair, pushed the younger girl deeper and ever deeper into her twat, at the same time raising her thighs to trap Alice's face and push her cunt up at Alice, to smear the leakage of juices all over the girl's questing mouth. God, she thought, what is with the younger generation? What is with me, letting her do this to me?
She knew what was with herself. She dug the fuck out of it! She enjoyed being eaten, loved it almost as much as being fucked, and it had been so long since her cunt had been eaten properly. So long! Joanne fell back onto the bed, and her snatch region was even higher now. Alice had risen with it and was perched over Joanne's pussy like Dracula poised above a sleeping virgin, and old Drac couldn't have gotten the jollies from blood that Alice Custer was apparently getting from Joanne Hickman's cuntal juices. For they were flowing! God, how they flowed! Joanne felt as wet as if she'd pissed, but she knew she hadn't, knew that it was only her twat responding the way it always responded to a mouth that knew how to worship and devour a aunt. Maybe more, because it had been so long since her pussy was last eaten so royally. But she was making up for that long dry spell now, making up in a big way. She could hear Alice's mouth squishing as it continued to eat her pussy, which was as juicy as a ripe orange.
"Suck me!" she moaned. "Really suck me, you know? Eat me, slurp your tongue in and out of me – yes – lick my clit, too! God, that's the way! Oh, I love it love it love it love it love itttttt! Don't stop – don't ever stop. Eat me till hell freezes over and my pussy goes dry! Oh, God, yes, lick my thigh too! It tickles but I like it!" She was out of control now, totally out of control, giggling and moaning and kicking her legs high into the air. She clawed at the bedspread on which she lay, and she found herself thinking, well, both members of the Hickman family have been ravished on this particular bed, haven't they? Could Tom have enjoyed it a tenth as much as she was, row? She didn't think so.
She started to come, and she got her thighs snugly around Alice's face, pulling the young girl's mouth into her sweet musky damp. "Eat me, darling, eat me!" she yipped, and she used her hands, too, making sure that Alice could not give way to any second thoughts, that she would carry this through to the very completion. No turning back now, she thought. No turning back until I spray her face with my cum!
If anyone had told Joanne Hickman yesterday that this day she would be coming like a banshee into the mouth of her husband's young paramour, she'd have thought them crazy. And if they'd told her that almost with the last spasm of her wrenching come she would be dragging Alice onto the bed, laying the girl out like a turkey for the Thanksgiving oven, bending into Alice's panty-covered crotch, sniffing the juices that leaked from the younger girl's pussy, that she would even lick the trail of wet that showed on the printed heart symbol, her fingers scratching impulsively at the pussy hairs that protruded from the edges of the tight panties – well, she wouldn't have believed a word of it. But she was doing it, and she damned sure believed it when she pressed her mouth against Alice's panties and sucked in the smell and taste of that twenty-year-old cunt, moaning, "Let me have it, let me have it, oh, please let me have it!"
Somehow they got Alice's panties off, the two of them working together, and Alice wasn't talking much now. Her nipples quivered with excitement and her face was flushed in anticipation, and she thrust her finger down onto her pie as soon as the panties slid free, baring it. "There," she groaned, "there, that's where I want it – right there!" and she was jabbing her finger in and out of her young twat, withdrawing it when it was coated with the frothy juices of her hole.
Joanne grabbed Alice's hand, brought the wet finger to her mouth, sucked it clean and dry. "Mmmm," she purred as tier lips and tongue did their job, and she was as excited as she had been that night thirteen years ago when Lisa seduced her in the makeup room at the university theater. But, she told herself, I'm not going to feel a Goddamned bit guilty when this is over. Not a Goddamned fucking bit!
She wiggled Alice out of the panties, threw them off the bed, then knelt a long moment staring at the sweet target between the younger girl's twitching thighs.
Alice's snatch was lovely, a fat bun of flesh with the tiniest, cutest crack imaginable. She had a fluff of dark golden hair on her cunt, not a lot of fur, but it curled and swirled across her puffy mons and one or two of the stray wisps were lying across Alice's gash, calling the eye irresistibly toward that promising little ravine. Shivering with excitement, Joanne threw herself onto Alice. She put her hands on the girl's twat, cracked it open, and she began to eat it, hungrily, greedily, her tongue ramming in and out of Alice when she wasn't busy licking the girl's clit.
A great clit! Large, eminently suckable. Joanne sucked it and she started to fuck in and out of Alice's hole with two stiff fingers. God, it was tight! She remembered overhearing them yesterday, remembered Tom saying something about Alice's pussy being tight enough to crack nuts. And when the girl clenched her well-tuned muscles, made her pussy walls contract rapidly around Joanne's fingers, Joanne was almost sorry she didn't have a cock and couldn't fuck the little slut as pussies like Alice's were meant to be fucked. The way Tom fucked it. Hot and hard, with eight inches of driving meat. Joanne frowned. No matter what happened in the next couple of minutes, she still had that to contend with. Her husband had been unfaithful to her and, except for an accident, she might never have found out.
And here she was now, sucking the clit other husband's lover, ramming fingers in and out of the hole that had (how many times?) been sticky with the goo of Tom's cum. Damn it, what was she going to do about all this? Oh forget it for the moment! Just enjoy!
Enjoy was precisely what she did. She grabbed Alice's clit in her clenched lips, worried it like a dog playing with a bone, and the younger woman went stone-bone crazy, screaming and kicking and pulling. Joanne's hair in a frenzy of emotional release. "Oh, Christ, yes!" Joanne heard Alice wail, her young voice cracking under the strain. Yes, Joanne thought, and she angled her mouth tighter and closer into the pussy that was opened before her like an oyster on the half shell.
She kept fucking with her fingers, and her lips teased the clit until mouth and button alike were raw and tingly with stimulation and lust. And then, at the precise moment when she'd have wanted a change of attack, if she had been in the receiving end of the field, Joanne jerked her fingers out of Alice and lowered her lips to the hole she'd been digitally penetrating. Her mouth closed over the entry to Alice's depths, anti she started sucking.
Honey liquid bubbled forth into her sucking mouth, and she felt the tingly, tangy flavor of Alice on the end of her tongue. Mmmmm! she thought. It is fucking delicious! And she thrust her tongue in, scooping up more and more of the sweet flow. Sweeter than wine it was. Joanne nuzzled in the flow of nectar and she kept licking her way in and out of Alice, stabbing up the quivery passageway with her tongue, penetrating the girl where she fucking lived. She could feel the younger woman's body growing hot where it touched her own, and she knew that she was getting pretty damned hot, too. A little trickle of goo was starting to run from her own pussy, down the insides of her thighs. Sighing, Joanne worked her thighs together, squeezed the itchy lips of her pussy, and she used her tongue with more and more frenzy in Alice, frenzy that matched the gurgling intense moans that seeped from Alice's trembling lips.
Alice grabbed for Joanne's ankle and locked her fingers around it. "Let me do you, too!" she pleaded. "I really want to eat you, now, while you're eating me. Let's do it together, baby, oh, together!"
Why not? Joanne thought, and she let herself be dragged around, until she was in position above Alice, the 6 mounting the 9. Not once in that switch of angle had she let go of her oral command of Alice's pussy, and she didn't know if she ever wanted to let it go. My God, she thought, it's incredible – my husband takes himself a mistress, one of his students no less, and here I am, gobbling her goobers and squashing mine down upon her face. Yesterday I heard her sucking and fucking my husband in his office, and today it's us doing it, my mouth on her snatch, her tongue punching into me like a wiggly little peter. I think I'm going crazy. But it's the only way to go.
She'd already climaxed once, while Alice was on the floor eating her cunt, and she knew that it was only a matter of minutes – perhaps seconds – until she came again. She could feel it in her guts, that churny, butterfly sensation, almost as if she'd been drinking on an empty stomach. And her head was floating around and around, too, and it was all she could do to keep her mind on her work, keep her mouth glued to Alice's twat, keep her tongue scooping in and out to feed herself on the fragrant honeysuckle that flowed out to wash her face in fuck. She knew that Alice was getting a mouthful, too, that her juices were oozing from her pussy walls with the same abundant excitement, and she could feel the tongue entering her again and again and again. Maybe it was the best head she'd ever gotten. She wasn't sure, it was so long since she'd gotten any good head at all, but if it wasn't the best, it was a million times better than the servicing she'd been forced to give herself with her fingers, with her pink plastic vibrator even, and she really hated him, hated him, hated him!
She hated him for causing all of this, for it if hadn't been for his infidelities, she wouldn't have gone all these months longing for love and satisfaction, she wouldn't have come to visit Alice Custer, she wouldn't have allowed herself to be seduced into lesbianism for the second time in her life. But she didn't feel the guilt that had begun to overtake her even during the act itself that other time. And she knew that even tomorrow, when her head had cleared, she wouldn't feel that guilt. She'd think back and remember that it was good, that it fulfilled her to make oral love with Alice. And, she told herself, I'll probably want to do it again!
God, she wasn't finished with this round and already she wanted to do it again! She wanted to spend the rest of the day on this bed, in this position, neither of them bothering to disconnect. Just catch a breath after the mad rush of orgasm, then do it again!
But wouldn't it be a good idea to hit that orgasmic peak first? she couldn't help asking herself. Yes, it really would, her semi-conscious mind replied, and she pried a little harder with her fingers, getting Alice more open, and her tongue began too rove up and down the small pink antechamber of Alice's cunt.
Alice was sucking Joanne now, just sucking her, sucking the whole expanse of the pussy, and Joanne lifted her face a moment, howling her delight toward the ceiling. "Now, yes, nowwwwwww!" The echo made her think of coyotes on the wild western desert, and that was kind of a giggle, really, but she couldn't waste time laughing about it, not when her cunt was about to explode and the smell of the pussy waiting for her to eat came wafting up into her nostrils, the sweet smell of Alice's wet little ruby fruit jungle. Moaning, beginning to hump out her orgasm, Joanne slammed her face down upon Alice's twat, and she ate until she felt the matching convulsions begin to ripple their way through Alice's cuntal tube. Yes, feed me, she thought, sucking up the hot juices that oozed and bubbled from the hole, feed me, feed me, feed me!
"I don't see where there's any problem," Alice Custer said, puffing lazily on a fat joint of sweet-burning grass. She washed it down her throat with a swallow of cool red wine, and handed the joint to Joanne, who took a demure inhalation. Joanne didn't smoke but it seemed impolite to refuse. The smoke hovered around her head, and if she weren't already stoned from the sex they had shared, she could have gotten high merely from breathing.
"I mean," Alice went on between tokes, "it seems to me that, with everything out in the open, it's cool all around you know? Like, Tom is coming over to see me after finishes his last class. I guess it'll be the usual thing – we'll have dinner and get a little fucked up, then hit the sack and ball for a couple of hours. So why not, when he comes in the door, why can't the first thing he sees be you? And you can tell him you're in on the secret and we can all sit down and talk it over, and three to one we'll come to a settlement that satisfies everybody. Doesn't that sound civilized and really modern?"
"Yes, it does," Joanne said, "but you're forgetting something. You're forgetting the agony I've gone through for the last few months. My husband turned off completely in the bedroom, me not knowing the reason, whether it was just him, or whether I'd done something wrong, and if that wasn't bad enough, the way I had to find out! Like, I mean, everybody, in the English department knows about you and Tom, and here I am, hearing it on the intercom. It was really, you know – my God, I'm starting to sound just like you! Anyway, I feel that I'm entitled to something more than the chance to tell Tom, it's okay, we can all be cool about this. What I want, specifically, are his balls. I'll give them back, of course, but I want them. Listen, what time is it? Going on two? Good God! It seems like I only just came in the front door with my satchel and fake questionnaire. I really wasn't that corny, was I? If you hadn't known who I was, you'd have bought it, right? I mean, I'm – I was – an actress, and a pretty good one, I like to think. Oh, damn it, I don't want to be here when Tom arrives. I'm not ready to face him and be all sweetness and light. Not just yet. I need some time to think. Maybe I'll go home and mull it over."
"Whatever you want," Alice said, crushing the joint in an ashtray, "but I still think I had a good idea. Listen, there's no use holding grudges. It won't give you back one drop of the cum he squirted into me. Why don't you just…"
Joanne was already on her feet, reaching for her panties. "Not yet," she repeated. "First I have to think. And then – well, I don't know what will happen then. First I have to think."