The bad dream ended with a loud whimper.
Kitten Hunter sat up in the badly rumpled bed as though jerked into position by an invisible string, and the soft baby pink blanket dropped to her lap, revealing her naked tits drenched with perspiration, their coral nipples hard and throbbing.
The diminutive midnight-haired girl knew instinctively that her own voice had awakened her, and momentarily her dainty hand groped timidly through the darkness that filled the again mouse quiet bedroom to see if it had done the same thing to her husband. Kitten's heart skipped a beat as her red-tipped fingers touched a cold sheet.
The place at her side was empty.
Kitten Hunter took a deep breath that rocked her full and pointed tits. A frown wrinkled her brow for a moment, and then she remembered why she no longer had a husband to share this bed with her: her sexual coldness had driven Dan away from her.
Coldness?
The memory of her first fuck-session with Dan brought a touch of bitterness to Kitten's lips. He had reached Starfish Island yesterday, late in the afternoon. He was still in uniform, but not for long. A drink, a few words about his year in Viet Nam, and then he had picked her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
"Dan, wait!" she had protested as he lowered her to the bed and proceeded to attack the buttons on her blouse, tearing one off in his impatience to bare and feast his eyes on her naked tities. "Dan, wait! The window drapes are open!"
Dan's fingers kept clawing at her blouse buttons as he rasped, "Fuck the drapes, Katherine. Leaving a virgin bride behind after a few short days of marriage is one thing, but letting her stay in that condition after playing it by hand for a year is something else." He leered at her. "If anyone cares to shoot beaver with a telescope while I pluck your cherry, let them."
Kitten had been shocked by his words. And then angry. She pushed his horny hands away from her boobs and sat up. Dan had laughed and pinned her to the mattress once more. His fingers renewed their attack on her blouse buttons, and a moment later she felt his lips burning through the nylon cup that covered her left jug. Her cunt remained cold and dry, but she made no move to push his greedy mouth away from her now blossoming nipple.
She had wanted it to be a beautiful reunion, but Dan had spoiled it. There was no patience left in him. Only hunger. Woman-hunger. Cunt-hunger. Blind. Demanding. Never mind how she felt. She was his for the taking, and take her he did.
He stopped kissing her bra-covered tits and helped her all the way out of the blouse. She sat up to keep him from tearing the damn thing from her body, then dropped to her back again and watched him over the dancing peaks of her brassiered jugs.
Dan had put his back to her while undressing. She watched his smooth haunches pop into view, then stretch as he knifed forward to kick out of his pants. He straightened with a loud sigh, turned and showed her his petrified prick.
She remembered gasping at the enormity of it – and feeling a bit frightened at the thought of having that big cock tucked between the lips of her cunt. His knob. God, it was as huge as a Grade-A large egg!
Dan fisted his dick and shook it at her, and said, "Take a good look at my cherry-picker. Meat, Katherine. And it's all yours."
Her eyes had moved away from his big cock and she told herself: God, I don't think I can take that big prick of his inside my pussy.
Finished undressing, the bed creaked in protest as Dan sat down beside her. Sweat soaked his face. He licked his lips. He didn't speak.
She had lain in the maddening silence and shivered as his big hands found and manipulated her tits, then moved caressingly all over her body.
"Sweet mother of all hookers," Dan had croaked, "talk about table stuff! Damn, I'm almost tempted to drop my face between your legs and eat your tight little twat."
She had continued to tremble under his working hands. But not from desire.
"I am…"
He silenced her with a glance, then dipped his head. His hungry lips found the bra-covered area of her sleeping nipples and awakened them. A shiver sliced through her system. A moment later she felt the beginning of nausea. She squirmed and murmured, "Dan, please. Don't."
Dan was beyond hearing. Passion deafened him. His cock throbbed, ached with desire. He wanted to fuck her… and he intended to.
She was down to her bra and panties. Her shoes had been lost en route to the bedroom. Her bra went next. Dan had reached under her back, between her shoulder blades, and unfastened the scrap of cloth. Tits spilled into nakedness; her coral nipples stiffened all the way. Dan tossed the bra aside and she had turned her head on the pillow to watch it flutter to the terrazzo floor like a bird with a broken wing.
Her misty white panties were all that had kept Dan from seeing her cunt, and now he did something about it. He was breathing hard and his big hands trembled as they slid downward over her enticing young flesh.
She hadn't moved.
"Stop acting like a damn log, Katherine. Lift that dimpled ass of yours and help me."
She had responded automatically. Like a whore.
"No, Katherine. Higher." Like a whore.
"Higher, Katherine. Lift your ass higher."
She had no desire to obey, but she did. His fingers had found and hooked into the elastic waistband of her panties. She came up on her elbows and elevated her butt. She watched as he slowly tugged the bikini briefs down past her slender hips, and all the way free.
Now she was naked.
She continued to feel like a cheap whore.
Why not as a wife?
Dan had shifted his position on the rumpled bed. His stiff fuck-stick touched and scorched her hip. She felt his pre-cum oozing out of it, and became embarrassed. She wanted to protest but the words remained frozen in her throat, and then it was too late.
"Thaw out, Katherine," Dan had growled. "Goddamn it, melt a little so I can enjoy fucking you."
"I'm trying."
"Maybe I can turn you on. Maybe this'll build a fire in your pussy."
Dan's face had dipped towards her bouncing boobs. His damp tongue darted out from between his lips and did battle with her coral nipples.
Her hips twitched, and tits trembled in rhythm to her ragged breathing, but passion remained aloof. It didn't make sense. She should have wanted him to fuck her. She didn't. She knew why. His big cock terrified her.
Exploring hands caressed her tanned thighs and she reluctantly parted them.
"That's more like it, Katherine. Now ask me to fuck you."
She remained mute.
A hint of anger edged her husband's voice. "Ask me to fuck you, Katherine!"
She had tried to surrender. She flicked a finger against his pulsating prick and said with forced passion, "Fuck me." Her voice sounded strangled. She tried again. She rocked her hips and shrilled, "Do it, darling. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
"Hard?"
"Yes, yes, fuck me hard!"
Tongue and lips teased and tickled her singing nipples as his weight pressed her deeper into the mattress. He paused. Then grinned at her and said, "Take my cock and put it where it belongs – inside your tight cunt."
She hesitated.
His eyes frosted; his voice flattened. "Do it, Katherine! Now, damn it, now!"
Her hand found and guided his dripping dick towards the pouting lips of her pussy. She nuzzled the wet knob against her jutting cunt for the space of a few heartbeats. Then she moved the tip of his tool to her virgin cunt-mouth and whispered fearfully, "Don't hurt me, Dan."
"I won't."
A gasp ripped past her teeth as he forced the egg-sized tip of his cock between the tense lips of her pussy. She begged him to stop. A waste of breath. She yelped again as he rammed his prick into her cunt-hole with one savage thrust.
"Ah," Dan sighed, "now I know I'm home!"
She stopped begging him to take his prick out of her pain-filled pussy; she knew he wouldn't. He wanted to get his rocks off, and he expected her to help him. She also knew that he wanted her to show passion. She decided to fake it.
"Come on, Katherine," Dan had snapped. "You can do better than that. Make like a mink and give me a fuck I'll remember for the rest of my life."
A fuck to remember…
Slipping her warm arms around his neck, she had mashed her lips against his. She had tried to match his ardor with her own. She tightened her arms around his neck and pressed her hot boobs to his naked chest, and then her hips began to chum and meet him thrust for thrust.
Up and down. Down and up. Trying. Failing. Unable to fuck the way he wanted her to fuck. Unable to surrender.
Their lips parted and their tongues met and wrestled each other, and added more shock thrills to Dan's passion. Then, as his frenzied thrusts warned her that he was reaching his peak, she dug her long fingernails into his back and pulled his sweaty face between her tits. She tightened the lips of her pussy around the throbbing cock that filled it, and a pulse beat later Dan moaned and shuddered his way through a violent come.
Jizz spurted into her cunt. Hot jizz. Sticky jizz. Filling her unresponsive hole full.
His passion satisfied for the time being, Dan had backed his dick out of her pussy. Sperm trickled out to soak the tangled sheet and stain her thighs. He came to a kneeling position between her scissored legs and smiled sourly, then said, "It wasn't any good for you, was it, Katherine?"
She answered him with silence.
He laughed harshly. "You don't have to tell me how it was, Katherine. I can see it in your eyes. The sex act shames you. It's always shamed you." His eyes probed the depths of hers. "Before we were married, your innocent-virgin routine tickled me, but it isn't funny any more. Christ, no husband deserves a…"
"Dan, don't say it!"
A suggestion of mockery lifted one corner of his mouth. "Don't say what – that you're a bum fuck?"
A despairing moan seeped past her lips. "Dan!"
"That's right, you're a bum fuck." He shook his head. "I can't figure you out, Katherine. I thought you'd get over this damn hang-up of yours by the time I got back from Nam, but you haven't. What the hell's wrong with you anyhow? What keeps you from melting? Is it me?"
"No, not you, darling."
"Then what? Is it the act itself?" He watched her closely, shook his head again. "That's it, isn't it? You don't like to fuck."
"I…"
His anger became more pronounced. "Sex isn't ugly, Katherine. Fuck, suck – nothing a man and a woman do to each other is ugly. Only people who think they are – are ugly."
Her own temper had bubbled to the surface. "I don't think we should discuss the subject."
He snorted. "Spoken like a true prude."
She knew she was blushing. "I'm not being prudish. I'm simply trying to…"
He cut her short. "If you're not being prudish, then you must be scared shitless. The thing that bugs my ass is – why? That cum dribbling out of your pussy didn't come from a strange whang. I'm your husband, I love you, and yet you just made me feel like a fucking rapist. It's enough to drive me up the nearest wall. Jesus, can't you accept the fact that there's nothing evil about any sex act?"
"Is pain a part of the act?" she had demanded to know. "If it is, then you just turned me into a complete woman, because I really ache. You went after my cherry like a Goddamn sadist." A moment later her voice became filled with contrition. "Darling, I'm sorry I said that."
He smiled mirthlessly. "Don't be. It's probably the first honest thing you've said to me. Maybe you'd like to call it quits?"
"No, Dan. I love you. I want to be your wife."
"Then prove it by acting like one."
She had tried. A few minutes later. She jacked Dan's cock, coiling her fingers around his sagging shaft and stroking it into firmness, and when his rod was rock-hard, she said desperately, "Teach me to love, darling. Ram that big cock of yours in my pussy and make me feel like your wife! Fuck me, darling, fuck me! Now, now, now."
His voice sounded choked. "I will, Katherine, but you'll have to help me."
"How?"
"By wanting my cock."
She had tried to tell herself that she wanted his meat – to no avail. She had gasped as Dan impaled her cunt with his enormous prick for the second time. She had wriggled her hips, bounced her ass, and she had even locked her legs around his butt to get every inch of his meat into her cunt on the downward lunge, but when she took his second load of cum, there was still no satisfaction.
His cock failed to turn her on.
Dan had sensed it.
"That's that," he had grumbled as he moved out from between her legs and left the rumpled bed. "I can't put the pork to a corpse. Necrophilia isn't my bag."
"Dan!"
Dan's voice slashed at her. "Shut up, Katherine! Damn you, damn you, shut the fuck up!"
Her eyes pierced him; her lower lip trembled. "Dan, I tried!"
Dan sighed disgustedly. "Not hard enough. Let's face it, Katherine, you're a bum fuck."
"Dan…"
Dan had refused to listen. He gathered his dropped clothing and stormed out of the bedroom. A few minutes later she had heard him drive off in the direction of the village, leaving her alone to cry herself to sleep.
Kitten's train of thoughts chugged back to the present. She lifted her head in a keening gesture. She heard nothing but the depressing silence that filled this walled world around her. A sickness ate at her innards; a hint of moisture appeared in her dark eyes. Dan was gone.
I drove the virile bastard away from me, Kitten thought bitterly as she left the mussed bed and padded into the big cabana's living room and turned on the lights. I wish to hell I could have made the prick understand why I feel like I do about sex.
It had something to do with her mother.
It had everything to do with her mother.
And men who fucked like rabbits… and ran the same way.
Men…
"Men are no damn fucking good, baby, and don't you ever forget it," Momma had drummed into her from the time she could remember. "The sorry mammy jammers only want one thing from a girl, and after they get it, they move their big juicy cocks to another neighborhood and leave you holding the shitty end of the stick."
"I don't understand, Momma…"
"You will if I can help it. Hear me out, baby. Men are nothing but a bunch of cunt-hungry freaks. Your late father was like that. He was all animal in the bedroom. He always had a hard-on, and he treated me like a two-bit weed monkey. He forced me to do things I never even heard of. The bastard fucked me in the cunt, in the asshole, he made me suck his cock, and a few times he even forced me to do those same nasty things to his cruddy friends. Straight shit, baby. All your stinking father cared about was his own lousy lust, and to the devil how I felt when I had to satisfy the sorry sonofabitch."
"Momma…"
"A fucking animal, baby. The warped mammyjammer proved it when he knocked me up with you, and then ran out. If it hadn't been for your Aunt Cleo helping my ass out in the pinch, I'd have been forced to give you up for adoption. No, take it from me – don't ever let any snatch-hungry man get the upper hand on your heart."
Kitten's mother had died hating all men.
But not women…
Kitten had fallen asleep in one of the lawn chairs in the back yard that afternoon, and when she woke to the sound of voices, it was pitch dark. There was no moon, no stars; nothing except the distant barking of a dog and the voices that spilled through her mother's open bedroom window. She had known Mother was having Cleo Brill over for the night, but instinct warned her that the two women weren't doing the gossip bit in that bedroom. Curious, she had left the shadows and entered the house on whispering feet, moving stealthily towards her mother's room. A faint sliver of light betrayed the fact that the door was slightly ajar, and now she crept closer and put her eyes to the opening. A heartbeat later her eyes grew large and her lower jaw dropped in surprise, for what she had witnessed was an act of passion between two women… from the beginning.
Cleo Brill, naked and stretched out on the bed, was watching Momma do a strip-tease, and Kitten had watched with her. Momma grabbed the bottom of her chocolate sweater and slowly lifted it up and over her head, then tossed it aside and straightened to give Cleo a better look at her colossal knockers. Momma's nipples showed through the bra that held them captive, and she had laughed at the way Cleo was staring at her.
Hungrily. Like a buzzard on a wet limb.
After the sweater was removed, the next thing Momma had done was loosen her skirt and slowly force it down past her full hips to where she could step out of it, and as she knifed forward, she glanced coyly at Cleo and asked if the deep cleavage between her big jugs excited her.
Cleo said yes.
Now, down to her panties and bra, Momma's hips proceeded to grind slowly, and the palms of her hands moved sensuously upwards, from her hips to her magnificent tits, and then between her shoulder blades to unclasp the bra. A few seconds later the conversation had started, with Momma doing the asking and Cleo Brill doing the answering.
"Do you like my titties, Cleo?"
"Yes, darling."
"And my nipples?"
"Ummmm."
"You like to kiss and suck on my nipples, don't you?"
"I love to kiss and suck your big titties."
"Would you like to kiss and suck them now?"
"Need you ask?"
The bra was unclasped and Momma had held it in place over her boobs for a few tantalizing seconds before she permitted it to trail to the floor like an unwanted cobweb.
Kitten kept watching. And listening.
The panties had come last. Momma made an elaborate production of it, letting Cleo stare at her white belly and quivering thighs, teasing her by withholding the final glimpse of her beaver until she sensed that Cleo was becoming impatient, and then she stepped out of her panties and toed them under the bed.
Momma had cupped her boobs and held them towards Cleo in offering, then asked, "Are you excited?"
"Excited? Hell, I'm starting to cream."
"My tits do that to you?"
"Yes. So do your nipples. Especially your long, dark nipples."
"Speaking of boobs and nipples, I love it when you put your mouth on mine. You suck a tit better than any man ever did."
Kitten had seen Cleo's lips tighten at their corners, and heard her say, "Don't mention men to me, darling. I knew how rotten they could be long before you ever took a load of baby-cum from the sorry prick who ran out on you."
Momma had laughed at this, and then went into her final act for Cleo Brill. A dance. Now completely naked, her boobs bouncing and her hips grinding to the tune of nonexistent music and haunting drums, Momma danced until her body glistened with sweat and the animal scent of her became cloying to the senses. Then she hurled herself into bed and attempted to drown Cleo in a pool of lust, biting and moaning and scratching at the other woman who was putting the tongue to her hairy pussy.
"Do it!" Momma had shrilled. "Do your stuff and eat me up, eat me up! Bury your sweet tongue deep in my pussy and make me come all over it! Ah, yes, like that! Lick darling. Lick my cunt!"
Cleo gripped Momma's twisting hips and drove her tongue deeper into her juicing snatch. Momma went wild with delight. Her ass bounced and her hips churned like a mix master gone nuts, and a few seconds later she moaned and shuddered her way through a violent but rewarding orgasm.
Cleo had kept licking Momma's melting slit for another minute or so. Then she backed her tongue out of the puffy gash and lifted her head. She smacked her lips and said, "You certainly are a juicy doll!"
Momma smiled contentedly and said nothing.
"So am I," Cleo said as she stretched out beside Momma, on her back. "Jam that long tongue of yours in my cunt and find out for yourself."
"Now?"
"Yes, darling, now."
And now it was lesbian, Kitten thought as she returned from her mental trip into the past. My mother, the lesbian. My mother, the man-hater. My mother, the cunt-eating woman who took a ride in a hearse and left me a legacy of frustration and fear.
Kitten wasn't afraid of marriage. Only afraid of the marriage bed, and the sexual obligations that came with it. Getting stabbed in the cunt with a big cock wasn't her idea of fun, but in the same breath of thought she realized that she would have to overcome her aversion to it. She didn't want to lose her husband. She loved Dan. She needed him, and she wanted to keep him… in every way. If only his cock didn't hurt so much! The pain. God!
Kitten frowned thoughtfully. This fear of cocks – did it have something to do with her mother being a lesbian, or was it a subconscious way of trying to castrate Dan, and striking back at the father she had never known? Perhaps a doctor would be able to provide the answer to her problem. Yes, that would be the thing to do. She nodded. Tomorrow she would drive into the village and have a talk with Dr. Dubois.
Her mind made up, Kitten decided to get comfortable while she waited for Dan to return from wherever he had taken his injured male ego. She brought the television to life. Then she went into the bedroom to find a cover for her nakedness. She was removing a robe from its hanger when the phone rang. It was Steve Trent, night bartender at Cleo Brill's Old Bottle Inn. Dan's friend. And hers. He had been the best man at their wedding. Steve told her that Dan was working at getting bombed out of his skull, and then asked for instructions.
"Do me a favor, Steve," Kitten said. "Let him get as sloshed as he wants, but for God's sake don't let him drive home."
"Right on. Want me to ask Cleo to flop him for the night?"
"No."
"All right. I'll keep your boy on ice until closing time, and then I'll deliver the body in person."
"Thanks, Steve."
"What are friends for?" He broke the connection.
Restlessness eating at her, Kitten took a quick shower, dried herself, and then paused to study her reflection in the full-length door mirror. There was nothing narcissistic about the way she examined herself. She knew she was beautiful. She had known this for a long time. She was small, with shoulder-length hair the color of deep midnight. Her eyes were black, too. Once, during their dating days, Dan had described her figure as that of a carved statue he had seen in a Miami museum. She had slender legs that tapered upward into full thighs, hips as smooth as marble, with a gently rounded stomach enhanced by a triangular mop of pussy fur. Her full tits completed the picture and verified what Dan had said – that she was a lot of woman.
A hint of sadness clouded Kitten's beautiful face as she donned a halter and covered her boobs. A lot of woman? She was a lot of woman, to be sure, but why so cold? What had Dan called her? Oh, yes, a bum fuck. She shook her head. It didn't make sense. At nineteen she should have been passionate, a real whore in the bedroom. She wanted to be, but something kept holding her back from complete surrender.
What?
She knew the answer.
A cold cunt kept holding her back from complete surrender. Today she had discovered that she couldn't stand to be touched in the tush with a cock. Not even her husband's cock.
Misery ate at her guts. She didn't want to continue to be a bum fuck. Not with Dan. Being terrified of taking his whang in her pussy wasn't normal. She would have to find out the reason for this quirk in her make-up… from Dr. Dubois, tomorrow.