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S/M stories : Dominating thrills

The fantasies flashed through his brain in little lightning shocks. Lips caressing the backs of upper thighs, licking softly, a white leg rising up an inch or two with each wet kiss... the aroma of untapped moisture from a steaming body, a hot fragrance. His testicles filled to bursting... plunging for the blessed snarl and gulp of the sticky mouth bath... spreading and splitting those thighs apart, burying his face against the drenched and turgid cavity... his tongue wet-sliding, dipping into the naked throb itself, toying there with the fire-hot vulva heart, licking and encircling the clit in a feathery rage... the candy taste and the swallowing of the creamed pussy.

He blinked, and tried to bring his mind back to the business at hand, but for another thick second he went on with it, dwelling on frenzied convulsions of lovely, soft legs and white pelvis, still tongue sipping in a clinging whirlpool and half-suffocating in soaked pubic hair and the buttery trickles of girl juice, a flood in the back of his throat, and his tongue still locked and pledged to the pussy flavors.

Patience! You've taught yourself to have patience, you dumb asshole!

He rubbed the back of his hand across his brow. Put your shit together, dammit, you've got the floor. Act like you know what you're doing!

Rome could barely wait for the cunt lapping to begin. His eyes were on the lesbians, and his mind was conjuring up images of tongue against labia, teeth on clit. "I have the floor," he said, trying to return his attention to the business at hand. "If you people don't shut your fucking mouths the meeting is going to be postponed." He pounded on the bookcase next to him for emphasis. "Order, Goddamn it, I have the fucking floor."

The group quieted down, their mutterings ceasing as they realized that their leader meant business. Rome, a wiry, tough-faced man of thirty, smiled grimly and scratched his balls through his jeans before going on.

"We were talking about the vaginal orgasm," he said, nodding toward an attractive, well-dressed blonde sitting in an easy chair at the far end of the living room. The girl unconsciously reached up to adjust her horn-rimmed sunglasses, which were oversized and had lavender lenses. Oversized, Rome thought, oversized like her cunt.

"Thank you," the girl said quietly. She cleared her throat, delicately covering her mouth as she did so, and she smiled without self-consciousness as her audience turned around and gave her their full attention.

"The vaginal orgasm is a myth," she said. "A product of male chauvinism. The vaginal orgasm was introduced by Freud and preached by a host of his disciples -- all of them male disciples, I might add, except for a few women who accepted penis envy as an important factor in their own lives. A value judgment -- indeed, a moral judgment -- is implicit in the concept of the vaginal orgasm. Freud, in conceiving the vaginal climax, was saying in effect that any female orgasm that was not vaginally induced was inferior and perhaps immoral. The clitoral orgasm was an unsatisfactory by-product of self-abuse; the vaginal orgasm, on the other hand, was an artistic masterpiece created by a penile 'brush', with every nuance of pleasure being provided compliments of the male sexual palette." The blonde gave a little nod to indicate that she was finished with her statement, and a hubbub ensued as the members of her audience tried to squeeze their two cents' worth in.

"Quiet," Rome said sternly. "Thank you, Jan. You, Felsen..." He pointed to a stocky, dark-haired fellow who sported a heavy moustache. "What was it that you were about to say?"

Felsen got to his feet and grinned drunkenly. A half-empty pint bottle of V.O. was clutched tightly in his right hand.

"Booze," someone muttered. "Bourgeois dream juice."

"I beg your pardon." Felsen thumbed his nose at the man who had interrupted him, then extended his arm in the direction of Jan. "And I beg your pardon, too. Your trouble, Jan, is that you're a Goddamn dyke. You wouldn't know what to do with a cock if someone offered it to you. You'd think it was just a clit with elephantiasis, or..." Felsen suddenly laughed for no apparent reason and made a grab for his fly. He had just opened it and yanked his flaccid four inches of prick through the zipper when a girl grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him off-balance. Felsen cursed as he hit the floor. His bottle broke in the fall, and the sharp odor of Canadian whiskey waited throughout the room.

Rome was shaking his head, more in disappointment than in anger. "That's the end of the discussion for tonight," he said. His voice carried the ring of authority. "We'll move on to the demonstration. Jan? Lisa? In your places, please."

Rome retreated to a folding chair several feet from where he had been standing, and the blonde who had spoken only a few moments before rose from her chair and moved to the center of the room. She was joined by a tiny, almost childlike brunette who had a thin, slitlike mouth and enormous brown eyes. "Lisa," Jan said softly. "I love you. It's been so long."

The blonde undressed first, unfastening the button front of her midi-length dress and slowly working the garment off her shoulders. She let the dress hang at hip-level for a moment, then loosened her fingers so that it fell to the floor. She was left standing in a tiny taffeta sip, a white confection that seemed incongruously small in comparison with the heavy woolen dress that she had been wearing only a moment before.

Every eye in the room was focused on Jan's body. Her thighs were perfectly formed, neither too muscular nor too soft. Perfect... there was no other word to describe them. Their proportions were somehow so lovely that they would have suited fashion designer and Playboy reader alike.

"Where have you been keeping yourself?" Jan asked, her face flushing with warmth as she stared at the tiny brunette. "I tried to call you last week, and the week before, but..."

"I was in Italy. Making films."

"Oh." Jan pulled the slip over her head, revealing a magnificent navel. Her medium-sized tits were barely concealed by the flesh-colored brassiere that she wore, and the briefest of briefs clung to her mons veneris in a way that suggested an absence of pubic hair.

"Your brassiere," Lisa said quietly but with firmness. "Take it off. Now."

"Lisa, darling, take it off for me," the blonde said with a seductive smile.

Lisa shook her head. "No, you will take it off, now." There was a threatening quality to her tone, and this seemed to make Jan all the more excited.

"Yes!" Jan said breathlessly. "Now, Lisa! I'll take it off..." She reached behind her back and undid the fastener, then shrugged the bra off her shoulders and let it drop away from her breasts. "Here! I give you my tits, Lisa!" She closed her eyes and dropped the brassiere to the floor, then moved her hands to her breasts and cupped each hillock of flesh with trembling fingers, squeezing the white-skinned tissue, making the delicate network of pale blue veins stand out, causing the soft pink nipples to change their shape and texture until they stood out bumpy and red and hard.

"Your pants," Lisa commanded. "Remove them, please."

"Touch my breasts first," Jan whimpered. "You don't have to suck them, or even to kiss them. Just touch them, please. Remember the time I let you touch them for the first time? No other woman had touched them, Lisa. Not ever. You were the first. The first to touch my breasts, to..." Jan swallowed hard, then shook her head as if to bring her thoughts back to the present. "My panties. Of course. I'm sorry." She inserted a pair of fingers on either side of the waistband, and pushed. The briefs slid past the hipbones, over the lower belly, past the stark white surface of her recently shaven mons. "I shaved for you," she breathed. "So you could see me better," she stepped out of the right leg opening, then the left. She parted her thighs, rose on tiptoe, and reached between her thighs, using her fingers to part the thick outer lips. "Look at my pussy," she managed to say. "I shaved it for you, Lisa. So you could see it, and taste it, and..." Jan suddenly remembered where she was. She blushed furiously, the pink of her face turning to a raspberry shade. She let go of her twat and let her hands dangle at her sides.

"You should have asked me before shaving yourself," Lisa said in a flat, expressionless tone. "Suppose I had wanted to shave you myself."

"But Lisa, I merely wanted to..."

"To make me happy. Of course." The brunette smiled warmly and stepped toward Jan, unbuttoning her man's shirt as she went. "And you have made me happy. I shall make you happy. And then you will make me happy again, in a different way. But for now I am going to stand here, just stand here, and permit you to help me get undressed. I have unfastened three buttons of my shirt. You will do the rest. You will remove the shirt and then my jeans. And then... you will remove everything. Jan." Lisa reached out and let a finger touch the very tip of Jan's right nipple. "Why will you remove my clothing for me, Jan?"

"Because I love you," Jan said, the words coming out as a sigh.

Lisa smiled. "Yes, you love me. And I love you."

Jan hesitated for a second, then, trembling, reached for the fourth button of Lisa's shirt. The brunette rested a hand on Jan's right hip as Jan nervously undid the fourth button, then the fifth, then the sixth.

"Take the shirt off," Lisa said when the garment was completely unfastened. "Don't just stand there. Take it off."

Jan uttered a tiny cry of excitement as she pushed the shirt off Lisa's shoulders. The smaller girl was tan underneath the shirt, and the shirt came off to reveal delicately hewn muscles on her upper and lower arms. The biceps were like the sinews of frogs' legs, the forearms were powerful yet somehow feminine at the same time. "Your pants now?" Jan asked shyly. Lisa nodded, and Jan reached for the brunette's heavy leather belt.

The audience, all of them eager to see the exhibition which was about to take place, abandoned their chairs and sofas and tiptoed into a circle around the two girls. One by one the group fell into cross-legged positions on the floor, staring upward as Jan unfastened the belt, then the snap of the jeans, then the zipper. One girl let out a soft "Ah!" as the jeans fell to the carpet and Jan dropped to her knees to lift Lisa's feet out of the pants legs, one at a time.

Rome, who sat where he could see both girls in profile, began a narration. "Lesbianism," he said quietly. "A perversion, some would say. A corruption of God's plan. An unnatural, defiant form of love. Yet there's nothing unnatural about the way these two girls are going at each other. Look at Jan -- at those hard nipples, those swelling tits, at the inner lips going from virgin pink to flaming red between her thighs. Cunts were made for fucking... or were they? Perhaps they were, once; but today there is room for so much more. For fingers, lips, tongues, teeth, dildoes..." Rome chuckled. "Bananas. Cucumbers. For whatever man or woman chooser to insert in the name of lust and love."

Rome paused as Jan tremblingly pressed her body against Lisa's and reached around the brunette's trunk to unhook the bra. The brassiere went loose; Jan stepped back. "Remove it," Lisa commanded. "Now. Without delay."

Jan hesitated for the briefest of moments, then moved to obey. Her quivering fingers grasped the cups, dug into the soft cotton material, pulled the cups away from the tits. The bra fell away, came down off Lisa's shoulders to the forearms and then to the wrists, dropped over the brunette's hands and then to the floor as Jan stared at the tits. And what tits! Small, but delicious in their olive complexion and glorious in their firmness. It was as if they had been sculpted from some rare wood brought to life. "Oh, Lisa...!" Jan moaned, throwing her arms around her friend's trunk and plunging her face between the petite yet cuddlesome tits. She grasped Lisa tightly, pulling the smaller girl against her face. Then, as if by instinct, she drew one hand back and placed it gently on the brunette's right breast, at the same lime moving her face a foot or so away from the bosom and contemplating the oversized nipple of the hand-held tit.

"It's brown," Lisa said softly. "Not pink like yours. Opposites attract, don't they?" She chuckled, and her voice was beginning to sound harsh. "Let go of my tit, Jan. There'll be time for that soon enough."

Rome interrupted, his voice quiet and low. "Remove her panties, Jan. Hurry, now -- you don't want to keep us waiting." He laughed. "Or Lisa waiting, for that matter."

Jan took a deep breath and dropped to her knees, her hands clawing at Lisa's hips, trying to stop the trembling long enough to grasp the black satin boxer shorts that hung sensuously over Lisa's firm hipbones and buttocks. She pulled downward, as hard as she could; the weak elastic of the waistband gave way and the shorts fell to Lisa's knees in a single jerking movement. Jan gasped, groaned, and plunged her face into the muff, the black mass of thick wiry curls that extended from Lisa's crotch almost to the navel.

The thatch grew in a diamond pattern, more like a man's than a woman's. Jan sank her teeth into the curls, spread the fiat of her tongue against the pussy hair, whimpered joyfully as her fingers gripped Lisa's thighs, then her knees, then her buttocks. Jan's fingernails left little red marks where they dug into the olive flesh.

Rome, still sitting cross-legged only a few feet away, grinned and sniffed loudly. "Someone is eager," he said.

"Who isn't?" The redhead who had tossed off that comment was breathing heavily and had forced her fist between her lightly clasped thighs. She rocked rhythmically to and fro as she watched the pair of naked women. "Stop playing around," she called to Jan and Lisa. "If I come before you do, it'll be..." She hesitated, then giggled and went on. "Hurry up, or it'll be for shit."

"I shaved for you!" Jan had pulled her face away from Lisa's mons and was bending backward, her calves and shins still tucked beneath her thighs. "Look at me!" she begged. "Look at my naked twat..." She closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, and managed to spread her knees wide apart without moving her feet from their place beneath her buttocks. She now lay spread-eagled on the floor except for her lower legs; her knees were parted so wide that it looked as though another inch of spread would spilt her glistening cunt. And what a cunt it was, with its pink-tan outer lips, its slick red labia minora, its tiny, summit-like clit almost hidden in the valley of juicy, literally quivering flesh.

"Open it wider," Rome instructed softly. "Hold the lips with your fingers. The inner flaps, Jan -- there, that's right. Pull them apart, now. Yes, just like that. Pull them wider apart so that Lisa can see inside, so she can stare all the way up to your womb..."

Lisa, too, was excited now. Her eyes were fixed on Jan's shaven pussy, and her nipples stood up brown and hard. Her cunt exuded a heavy odor, and as she dropped to her knees between Jan's parted thighs her asshole let loose with an involuntary fart. "You little bitch," she said softly, with a chuckle, as she let her fingers run up and down the inner surfaces of Jan's thighs. "You little blond whore."

Jan bit her lip. Her eyes were closed, her forehead was furrowed, her lips were twisted in a grimace of pleasure and path. She needed it, of course. It. The tongue. Lisa's tongue, the tongue for which she so of ten longed.

"Kiss me," Jan begged. "Right there, right now. Like... like you used to do before!" The sentence ended in a sob as Lisa's middle finger stabbed into the ragged opening of her cunt. Jan twitched, lifted her buttocks off the carpet, kicked one leg out straight and cried out with need as the foot fell back on the floor. She writhed to one side, drawing the other leg from its place under her thighs and stretching it out, extending the toes; almost going into a spasm as Lisa's finger probed her moist inner depths. "Suck me!" she whimpered. "Lisa, I need you now..."

"No." It was Rome speaking, his voice firm and loud. "You will wait your turn, Jan. Lisa has been, away from us for a while. She must be allowed to receive her pleasure first." Rome nodded to Lisa, who had half-turned toward him. "Squat over Jan's face, Lisa. Hurry -- that's right, duck-waddle forward until -- ah, right there. Perfect." Rome took a deep breath, then continued in a softer but equally commanding tone. "Squat lower. Lift your heels off the carpet; there, that will increase the tension. By increasing the tension, you heighten the pleasure. Balance there, no hands. Place your hands on the back of your head, Lisa. On the back of your head! I want to see your tits standing out straight and firm. Ah, lovely. Hold your hands there, Lisa -- don't move them! Balance on the balls of your feet. It isn't hard once you get the hang of it. Jan? Are you licking her yet, Jan? Stop fucking around, you lesbian bitch!" Rome's voice had become a snarl. "Lick her. Yes, lick her! With your tongue, not just the tip of it but the whole surface, the whole tongue flattened against her cunt. Lick her till the hair is as wet as..." He laughed. "But I guess it's pretty wet already. I'll tell you what, Jan. Bring your fingers up to the vulva. Start by probing the vestibule, gently, gently, gently -- gently, I said! -- while your tongue licks the clit." Rome leaned forward, squinting in an effort to get a better look.

"Not bad, keep it up, Jan. Get that arm back behind your head, Goddamn it!" he shouted to Lisa. "There. Perfect. Rock back and forth if you wish, Lisa. Only don't lose your balance. Remember -- weight on the balls of your feet. Try not to wiggle your toes too much; you'll end up shifting your center of gravity. Calves tight, thighs stiffened and well apart. Use your ankles to control movement. Forward, backward... Try lowering your ass a little; move your feet apart. Nice, nice. Jan, I want you to slick two fingers in her twat. Two, I said, not one or three. One is too little for a cunt like that one; three will make her come too soon. Two fingers, that's the way. And your thumb on the inner surface of the buttocks; keep it away from the asshole for now."

Rome paused, watching as Jan did as she was told. He glanced around at the rest of the group; all eyes were focused on Jan's head and the black bush above Lisa's twat. "Lovely," he said. "Remove your fingers now, Jan. Pull your tongue away..." He grinned as Jan obeyed him; he knew how Lisa would respond, and he was correct. Lisa cried, "No!" and forced her pussy against Jan's face; Jan hesitated for a moment, her nose sunk deep into Lisa's cunt, but then, obediently, she followed Rome's instructions and forced her face free of the brunette's hairy crotch.

"Don't!" Lisa whimpered. "Rome, you bastard, you..."

Rome laughed. "All right. Resume licking, Jan. But just the clit for now. Try a circular pattern, the tip of your tongue going from the shaft along the right edge of the clit to the bud, then back down the left side to the base... more of an ellipse than a circle, really, but you get the idea. Do you like that, Lisa?" He paused. "Answer me, Lisa. Do you like it? If you don't tell me, I'll make Jan withdraw her tongue from your twat."

"Shit, yes!" Lisa croaked. "Yes!"

"How much do you like it?" Rome persisted.

"Enough to..." Lisa exhaled heavily, simultaneously rotating her ass and cunt above Jan's probing tongue.

"Enough to let me fuck you?" Rome asked with a grin.

"You bastard." Lisa was gasping, but she too was grinning. "You bastard, you no good..."

"Answer with one word. Yes or no."

"Yes!" Lisa closed her eyes, savoring the sensations emanating from her clitoris, and shuddered from shoulders to ankles for everyone to see.

"Very well. Place your finger against her asshole, Jan. Gently, for now. Just tickle it lightly, touch it just enough for her to get the idea." Rome watched closely as Jan followed orders. He nodded his approval as she scraped her fingernail loosely over the dimpled asshole, as she picked off stray bits of lint and dried shit.

"Perfect," Rome told her. "Now, then. Finger forward, upward, very hard. Stick it in there, Goddamn it! That's right, Lisa, wince if you want to. Scream, curse, anything as long as you don't let those heels touch the floor. Up on the balls of your feet, Goddamn your dark dyke hide! Ah, yes. Try working the finger deeper into Lisa's ass, Jan. Twist it a little; that usually helps. Is it working? Fine. Now I want you to hook the finger slightly, bend it into a modified 'L' shape, with the first two joints at a fifty to sixty degree angle. Hmmm. Heels off the floor, Lisa! Jan, I'm proud of you. You're doing very well..."

Rome shut up, leaving the girls to their own devices. He watched approvingly, his own body starting to respond as the reclining Jan began to shove her ass forward and backward on the carpet, her knees clasped tightly together and her cunt seeking to find pleasure through the squeezing pressure of her thighs. He watched as Lisa opened her mouth, let her jaw go slack, drooled saliva out of one corner of her lips and along the side of her chin and down onto Jan, whose hair was spread out, fanlike, on the floor. He smiled happily and reached for his zipper as Lisa whimpered something unintelligible and strained to keep her hands where they belonged, behind her head. He licked his lips and drew his semirigid cock from his trousers as Jan reached up with her free hand and grasped Lisa's left tit. He closed his eyes for a second, then reopened them and glanced briefly at his seven inches of hardening meat before returning his gaze to Lisa, who was literally panting as she reached her peak of desire.

Now, as Lisa's voice suddenly filled the room with a garbled stream of love words and obscenities, Rome found himself jerking hard on his organ, pulling on the thick veined shaft with his calloused fingers sliding over the sensitive glans as the uncircumcised foreskin came back to reveal the red-purple head of his masculinity. It was a good cock, an eager cock, a cock that would have crammed its way into Lisa's pussy by now had it not been for the act which was, taking place in the midst of this panting, staring group of voyeurs.

Come, Lisa! he wanted to cry. Spill your juices on her face, fart on her finger, shit on her bosom, spray her with menstrual fluid, punch and kick her into insensibility, show the violence of your pleasure in a violent, passionate deed...

Rome couldn't help laughing at himself. Such fantasies, he thought. He stared at Jan, who had taken the hand that had been fondling Lisa's tit and placed it on her own twat. The fingers were parting the shaven labes, fingering the clitoris, spreading juice over the love flesh, finally poking inside.

"I'M... COMING!" Lisa suddenly shouted, and indeed she was on the verge of spilling all. She rose high on her toes, her hands falling from their place behind her head and seizing her own tits, the right hand pausing there for but an instant prior to dropping to the thatch, to the silt, to the clitoris where it settled and kneaded the shaft of the organ even as the bud was being slobbered upon by Jan's eager tongue. She closed her eyes, inhaled sharply, then released the vast quantity of air in a long, shuddering groan.

When it was over, Lisa staggered to her feet and grinned. Then, turning her face toward Rome, she thrust her hips forward and opened the floodgates, letting her piss spray down on the sputtering Jan like a warm tropical rain.

To Rome, Lisa's act was a command. He closed his eyes and let go of his cock; the stiff prick stood quivering for a second or so, then shot rope after rope of epoxylike fluid into the air, onto the carpet, onto the clothes of the masturbating folk around him, and onto Lisa's muscular calves and thighs.

Two hours later. The group had dressed and departed. There had been the usual debate on whether or not the evening should turn into a fuck fest and, as always, half the group had gone away mad, Rome grinned. Ah, the perils of being a master! He understood how Charles Manson must have felt at the height of his alleged hypnotic career.

Rome yawned. It was late, and he needed sleep rather badly. He had been staying up past his bedtime far too often in the past few weeks. Group activities, routine pickups, even reading... there always was something to keep him awake when he should be asleep. Rome glanced at his watch. It was two-thirty A.M.. Time for all decent folk to be in bed. Well, be wasn't decent folk. He remembered that, thinking back over the past few years.

How long had it been now? A year and a half? Two years? The lime had gone by so quickly. In those brief twenty-one or twenty-two months -- it was closer to twenty-three months, now that he thought about it -- Rome had progressed from impoverished ex-con to... to what? To something better, that was for certain. Good money, good sex. He could fuck more or less at will. He didn't have a steady girl friend, and he would have been at a loss for partners were there a sudden dissolution of the group, but the group had become so well established that it seemed as if it had always been an integral part of his life. For an ex-con, an ex-con who had been imprisoned on a sex charge, no less, he was doing all right.

Nine A.M.. The doorbell rang, waking Rome up. "Just a minute!" he called out, not caring that he couldn't be heard through the soundproofed door. Every door in the apartment was soundproofed, as were the ceiling, floor and walls. It seemed a sensible precaution against nosey neighbors and curious cops. People were likely to call the police if they woke up at four A.M. to the sounds of a full-scale sex orgy.

Rome hurried into the bathroom, emptied his bladder, flushed the toilet and headed for the front door without washing his hands. He unfastened the three bolts and opened the door a notch, using the heavy guard chain for security. "Lisa!" he said, surprised to find himself facing the dark-haired, fiery-eyed girl.

"You said I was supposed to be here by nine-thirty," she told him, appearing to be hurt by his failure to remember their appointment.

"Oh?" He furrowed his brow, trying to get everything straight in his head.

"Last night. Before everyone left. Remember?"

"Well, I don't, I..." He thought again. "Oh, sure. Look, why don't you come in?" He closed the door partway to release the chain, then opened it again and gestured for Lisa to step inside. She crossed the threshold quickly, looking somewhat nervous as she glanced down at his large, flaccid cock.

"You're naked, you know," she reminded him.

Rome blinked, then grinned. "You're right, I am."

"It makes me uneasy."

Rome chuckled. "That's just fine."

Lisa, dressed in velvet bellbottoms and a purple knit top, took up a position on the sofa while she waited for Rome to tell her what to do. He raised his finger as if to silence her, walked quickly to the bedroom, and returned to the living room wearing a black satin robe patterned on a karate expert's coat.

"Last night was fun, wasn't it?" Rome said with a grin.

Lisa shrugged, but her lips were slightly curled in a wry smile. "You humiliated me, Rome."

"That was the general idea."

"In front of everyone, no less. You always do that -- humiliate a person in front of the group. You're sick, did you know that?"

Rome shrugged, his shoulders moving more forcefully than Lisa's had done a moment before.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" Lisa asked.

Rome rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "I don't remember, to tell you the truth."

"To humiliate me some more?"

"Perhaps." He laughed.

"You humiliated me enough last night."

"I know. You said that," he pointed out.

"I love Jan, you know."

"I know."

"And she loves me." Lisa said it almost violently, as if challenging him to an argument.

"I'll go along with that," Rome agreed.

"It cheapens our love when you humiliate us that way."

Rome laughed, long and hard. When he had finished, he got to his feet and went to the stereo, where he put on a John Philip Souza record. "Our Director," he said, holding up the record jacket. "Written in honor of me."

"You cheapen us, Rome."

He shrugged. "I know. That's the general idea."

Lisa pursed her lips in anger but stood up and began to undress.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Undressing, of course."

"For heaven's sake, why?" He affected ignorance.

"You bastard."

"First you come in here saying we had an appointment of some kind, now you start to take off your clothes..." He chuckled, an odd tone in his laugh.

"For God's sake, Rome..."

"I don't know what you expect me to do," he said.

"You're going to humiliate me, of course."


"Yes. Just like you did last night."

Hp smiled. "I see."

"How are you going to humiliate me?" she asked.

"I'm going to fuck you." He said it quietly, matter-of-factly.

"The regular way, or..."

He shook his head. "In the ass, baby. In the ass." Rome laughed as Lisa finished stripping and reluctantly, fearfully, angrily fell onto all fours.


This was the sort of thing that had characterized his fantasy life when he had organized the group two years earlier. Those first few months in New York had been hard though -- scraping for a living, failing in a succession of pointless and boring job surviving only by paring expenses very, very close to the bone and giving a fag a blow job now and then. Rome winced as he thought back to those whore-mongering days, to the times when he had posed as a pimp and then, when the johns asked to meet their partner, said, "You're looking at him -- hands, asshole and mouth."

Yes, times had been tough, but only because Rome wasn't about to settle for less than he had laid out for himself before coming to New York. He had come to the big city with a single goal: to make good money having a lot of fun. He would organize a group of would-be swingers who had never managed to satisfy their fancies and fantasies with the sort of people they could pick up in Democratic clubs and singles bars. A fellow would be interested in, say urolagnia but wouldn't know where to turn. Rome, by advertising in the various underground publications and carefully screening the replies, would act as a match-maker and scout leader. Once be had someone who liked to piss, he would locate someone else who enjoyed being pissed an. At that point all he had to do was tell each of the other's existence and invite both to join the Group for Sensual Involvement which -- like a corporate bigwig -- he often shortened to GSI. Dues were high -- fifty to a hundred dollars per month, depending on the individual member's financial status and the oddness of his hangup -- but once the group had been established for a while and its existence had become widely known through word-of-mouth advertising, Rome found himself making a great deal of money indeed. He had no overhead to speak of (just a large apartment, a phone bill, and a miniscule advertising budget), and the group now had close to a hundred active members. His current gross receipts were in the neighborhood of seven thousand dollars a month. Yes, Rome was doing all right from a long green point of view.

He was doing all right sexually, too. Few of the new female members -- the heterosexuals, anyway were able to resist the chance to get laid by the founder and President of GSI. They no doubt figured that he must have a certain hypnotic appeal, and to a certain extent they were right. Rome was a magnetic sort of fellow; it took guts and drive to create something like the Group for Sensual Involvement, after all. His erotic technique had become a bit rusty thanks to hose eight years in prison, but he had acquired ejaculatory self-control through careful masturbation and made up in energy what he temporarily lacked in technique.

"Well?" Lisa looked up at him crossly. She was still crouched on the floor, her knees parted wide enough so that Rome could see her cunt through the lower cheeks of her ass.

"I was thinking." And he still was, though his thoughts were now returning to her crotch and to what he intended to do with it. Should he eat her out first; should he simply fuck her in the ass and dispense with trying to bring her sexual pleasure; or should he fuck her in the ass but simultaneously to provide maximum manual stimulation to her cunt?

"Is this part of your humiliation of me?" she asked wearily. "Making me kneel here like this without knowing when you're going to suddenly drop to your to knees and fuck my guts to kingdom come?"

Rome laughed. "I'm sorry, my dear." He leaned over and stroked her ass lightly, marveling at the lovely olive flesh. "You've got fantastic skin," be told her.

"Thank you," she said dryly.

"You'd look great covered with baby oil. Or olive oil." He beamed, proud of his sudden inspiration. "Olive oil. Christ, that's perfect. Olive oil for olive skin. I think I've got some in the kitchen. Hang on a minute and..."

"Rome! Please don't do that." She was begging, but in a calm and almost matter-of-fact tone. Rome wondered if she were purposely avoiding a whimper or a whine; could it be that she knew such a plea would only increase his desire to humiliate her completely?

"Wait a minute," he told her firmly. "I'm going to get the olive oil."

Lisa muttered something obscene, but Rome ignored her. He strode to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a half-gallon can of olive oil dangling from his right hand. "Great stuff," he said. "Imported from Italy. There's all kinds of Italian shit written on the can. You can pretend you're back in Wopland making films."

Rome removed his bathrobe, not wanting to stain it with the oil. He unscrewed the can's tin cap and knelt beside Lisa. Chuckling softly, he poured a small quantity of the golden oil into the palm of his hand and clenched his fist, working the oil over his fingers. Next he opened the hand and rested it on Lisa's buttocks, letting it glide over the curved buns and leaving a shiny, slimy trail in its path.

Slowly, delightedly, Rome smeared the oil over the girl's calves and thighs. Then he thought of something. "We're going to soil the rug. Crawl over to that patch of tile." He pointed to the sun porch. "There, next to the glass doors." Lisa reluctantly obeyed, and the oily surfaces of her ass and legs glistened in the sunlight that poured in through the sliding glass doors leading off the sun porch to the balcony outside.

Ah, yes. This was going to be nice. Rome carried the can to Lisa, whose nose was only inches away from the glass.

"What if the neighbors see?" she asked.

"They won't. Mine won't, anyway. The only building with a view of this sun porch is a half-block away, so I don't have to worry about anyone reporting me to the super or beating on my door. No, if someone sees us, we'll simply give him a good show."

Rome grinned and began to slather the olive oil onto Lisa's back, eventually working the stuff over her shoulders and under her armpits and finally to her small, delicately formed breasts.

"Your nipples." Rome coated the buds with oil. "Hmm. Getting hard, aren't they?" he said with a chuckle.

Lisa's reply was cool. "It's the draft, that's all."

"What draft? I sure don't have any goose bumps. Hell, the thermostat is set at eighty degrees. It's a good temperature for nudity, don't you think?" Rome smeared the oil into her cleavage, returned his hand to the can, and filled his palm with another generous dollop of oil. Soon he was slathering the stuff on her belly, into her navel, onto the magnificent briar patch of her pubic hair.

"I'm going to fuck you, Lisa," he sighed, trying to sound apologetic. "I know you aren't going to like it, but what the hell. Women were created to serve men. Oh, I know an assertion like that isn't going to win me any plaudits from Women's Lib, but those dames are just a bunch of dykes anyway. Women are man-servers, Lisa," he said, rubbing the oil into the crevice of her ass. "Look at their basic design. The cunt is a passive instrument, basically, a receptacle for man's desires. Anything a woman does with it merely enhances the male's pleasure. The male, on the other hand, can fuck a woman without bringing her any satisfaction at all. He can introduce fantastic variation into the sex act, all for his own orgasmic well-being. I'd hate to be a woman, Lisa. It must be a tremendous pain in the ass."

Lisa stiffened, perhaps because Rome's fingers were sliding closer to her asshole as he finished his last sentence, and Rome laughed. "Sorry," he said, "didn't mean to make you nervous about what we're going to be doing a few minutes from now."

And what an asshole it was, too! He could tell simply by pushing against the anus from the outside that this was going to be a hell of a rectal fuck. There was a swollen quality to the asshole, a taut and firm swollenness, that told him there was a powerful set of muscles under there. A sphincter with spirit, a ring of muscle tissue that was going to squeeze God knew how many ounces of jism out of his angry, aching cock.

He wondered how she had become a lesbian. What the hell was wrong with a healthy man-woman fuck? Licking and sucking were well and good, but there were inherent limitations on the lesbian repertoire. That was the nice thing about heterosexuality -- you could use your mouth until you were slobbering all over the bed, and then you could perform sexual calisthenics for hours on end. Man on top, woman on top, side-by-side, dog style, in the pussy, in the ass... no, you couldn't beat man-woman sex. Not in Rome's book. Though he wasn't about to put down bisexuality, since occasional queer acts added even greater scope to one's total sex life.

Rome had smeared olive oil all over Lisa's body by now, and he was adding a second coat, to her rectal crack.

"It feels greasy," she said.

"Not greasy. Slippery," he corrected. "Olive oil has a smooth, anti-frictional texture while Vaseline and other lubricants tend to be sticky. Let's put a little more oil on your ass..." Rome pushed against her asshole, attempting to force his slippery fingers into the opening, and Lisa pulled away.

"Damn you..." she started to protest, then stopped.

"And your cunt. We mustn't forget your cunt." He removed his hand from her ass, poured more oil onto the fingers, and plunged the hand into her fur-lined furrow. Lisa jerked away as three fingers forced their way into the opening; Rome simply laughed and pushed deeper inside. "A little finger fucking is good for you," he told her. "Maybe we can drive away some of those dyke tendencies. Pretend that you're sixteen and I'm sixteen, and that I'm finger fucking you in a drive-in theater..." He thrust his fingers in and out of her twat, relishing the splat-splat sound made by each stroke of knuckles against moist love flesh. He let his thumb creep around until it found her clitoris, whereupon he began to stroke the bud slowly.

Nail scraping lightly along the clit head, whorled ball of the thumb caressing the surrounding tissue, thumb shifting position so it could work itself, with the cunt alongside the fingers, hooking itself around the inner ring of the vaginal sphincter and becoming slick with the gathering juices of Lisa's growing desire.

"So you want to get fucked, huh?" Rome said with a grin. "Well, you're going to have to beg for it."

Lisa's laugh sounded more like a retch. "Fat chance," she told him.

"Ah, but you're jumping to conclusions, my dear. You're assuming an inability to achieve heterosexual orgasm before you've given it a fair try."

"I've been fucked before," she said angrily.

"Not by me, you haven't. Which reminds me -- have you had it in the ass before?"

She shook her head. "No." Her reply was quiet, with a hint of fear.

"Be happy, then! You're about to embark on a new adventure!" He pulled his thumb from her twat and pressed it against the clit again, pressing hard and steadily for a moment before rolling the tiny knob to and fro with growing enthusiasm. He could feel her crotch stiffen, then relax beneath his hand. He smiled. She was getting there, willing or not. "The ass," he said, "is the perfect sexual receptacle. It will accommodate a prick of any length and diameter; it will accept any quantity of semen without doing anything stupid like getting pregnant. One needn't worry about its being too loose or wet; it has no natural lubricants, and if it were lacking in muscle tone it wouldn't be able to ride herd on the turds." Rome could feel the girl's cunt begin to quiver; he smiled, pleased at the response. "Think of the power of the asshole -- the power to take in, to clasp, to expel! And think of the affirmative nature of anal intercourse. At last, after a lifetime of forcing stuff out of your ass-hole, you'll be taking something in!"

Lisa said nothing, but her growing excitement was obvious to Rome, whose fingers had worked their way to the very rear of the girl's cunt, where they were kneading the meaty knob of her cervix. With his spare hand he reached under her body and grabbed her left tit, which he stroked gently, then with increasing vigor until at last he grasped the nipple in his fingers and rolled it to and fro, twisting and pinching it in the process. Lisa whimpered something unintelligible, then groaned.

Ass-fucking time, Rome told himself silently. He pulled his right hand from Lisa's cunt and reached for his cock; the organ was hard. He stared down at it. Its tan sheath wag stretched over the swollen structural tissue, and the purple-red glans peered out of the taut foreskin; Rome pinched the upper portion of the prepuce in two fingers and pulled it to the rear. It came back reluctantly; he had to stretch it like a too small condom being drawn over an oversized cock. When the glans stood free in all its glory, Rome took the cock in his fingers just below the rim. Carefully, unhurriedly, he guided the stiff penis to Lisa's cunt where he let it wallow in the puddlelike vestibule, its knob being coated by her pungent and slippery vaginal juices. And the oil, he thought, grinning. Yes, the oil.

She wanted to take his cock into her pussy. She was shoving the cunt back toward the prong, balancing all of her weight on her parted knees as she held her hands between her thighs and spread the vaginal lips with trembling fingers. He would humor her, Rome decided, but only partway. He would let her think he was going to screw her in the conventional manner, albeit from the rear, and then... He chuckled as he thought of how surprised she was going to be when she felt his cock forcing its way into her ass after all.

"Hurry," Lisa was moaning, her trunk arched toward the floor now and her head pressed against the floor, scalp and forehead on the carpet, to preserve her body's balance. She was still pulling on the cunt lips with quivering fingers, and once she let go of the right inner flap to run several fingertips over the juice-slathered underside of Rome's cock. "What is it you want me to do, Lisa?" Rome said calmly.

"Hurry, hurry! ..."

"I know this is going to sound old hat, but I want you to tell me what I'm supposed to do to you. I'm sorry, Lisa, but you'll have to explain your desires."

"God oh God! ..."

"Pretend that you're a character in a classic porno-graphic novel. Say 'Fuck me,' Lisa."

The girl whimpered, then gasped out the words. "Fuck me," she said.

"How do you want me to fuck you, Lisa?" He was grinning, oblivious to the spittle oozing out of one corner of his mouth. "How do I fuck thee? Let me count the ways..."

"Hard," she pleaded. "Now!"

"In the vagina, or in the..."

"Just fuck me!" she groaned.

"In the ass, Lisa. I want you to say, 'Fuck me in the ass.'"

Lisa hesitated for a moment, but when Rome pinched her clit between two fingers she was unable to resist. "Fuck me in the... the ass," she whispered. Then, shouting, "Oh, God, fuck me now!"

It was the signal that Rome had been waiting for. Quickly, before the girl could object, he pulled his cock from her pussy's foyer and guided it back toward her asshole, pushing forward when he felt the glans come in contact with the pulsating anal sphincter. The asshole tightened; he could also feel her buttocks stiffening as he pressed against the ass with the lower part of his belly.

"Open up, Goddamn it!" he snarled.

"No, no..."

"Shout 'Fuck me in the ass!'" he warned.

"No, I..."

"Fuck me in the ass!"

"No, I..." She hesitated briefly, then gave in once more. "Fuck me in the ass!" she cried. Then, even louder, "Fuck me any way you want to, you selfish pig!"

Rome laughed, long and hard, evil and sadistic. He slammed forward, caught her anal reflexes off guard, forced the thick knob of his prick past the sphincter and into the shithole. He kept shoving, thankful for the thin coating of olive oil and love juice that eased his entrance into her ass.

"Good God!" she moaned.

"Never mind God. Think of my cock in your ass." Rome took a deep breath and exhaled it in an explosion of air as he pumped the prick another four inches into the bunghole. One more breath, one more lightening of the dunghole. One more constriction of his own anal sphincter for intensity's sake, and.

"GOD!" Lisa cried, writhing in pain as the full, seven-plus inches of his masculinity filled her tight, virgin ass. He could feel the fecal leakage adhering to his pubic hair; he could also feel her asshole twitching around his cock's shaft, trying to expel it as it would have pushed out a rock-hard turd.

"How do I fuck thee? Let me count the ways." He said it aloud this time, chuckling before continuing. "I fuck thee in the asshole, I fuck thee in the cunt. I fuck thee while you whimper, I fuck thee and I grunt. I fuck thee with my cock head, I fuck thee with my dong. I fuck thee till I feel your asshole tighten round my prong..."

The pain, the humiliation, the obscenity of his poetry, the mocking quality of his vocal tone... all combined to make Lisa react more powerfully than ever, and Rome felt his own guts begin to gurgle as Lisa forgot her fear and literally threw herself into the act. Thrashing, writhing female flesh... what could be nicer?

"I fuck thee with my penis, I fuck thee hard like this... and when, at last, it's over, upon thee I will piss." He was laughing now, a hysterical quality to the guffaws which emanated from his chest even as he fucked progressively harder in Lisa's quivering, hurting ass. He felt her sphincter tighten even more, and then there was a moment's suspension of all movement on her part as she tried to stay at the point before orgasm, at the delightful quivering stage just before all hell was to break loose...

"OH GOD!" Rome almost jerked his cock from her ass when she cried out and thrust her anus backward, catching him completely by surprise. He restrained himself just in time, forcing his cock forward into the asshole and closing his eyes to relish the powerful spasms that had taken hold of her sphincter. One, two, three... he lost count. He held his breath, stiffened his back and his buff and his thighs, tightened his asshole and clenched his jaw as he tried to catch up with her, tried to match her rhythm.

One, two, three... "Motherfuck!" The thrusts had given away to spurts, the semen was coming up out of his balls and prostate to squirt through his penis and into Lisa's asshole, where it lined the cavity like Pepto-Bismol, acting like an enema in the impacted shit. Rome felt like screaming, such was the intensity of his pleasure. But then he felt Lisa's body relaxing, her asshole loosening its grip, and his own orgasm faded away as her rectum slowly slid off his prick and her body slumped to the floor.

"Lisa?" He was flopped on the floor beside her, his right hand resting on her ass.

"Hunnh..." She couldn't say anything; she was too tired to do anything but gasp.

"Show me a dyke who can fuck yon like that, baby."


There was a sudden gurgling in Lisa's intestines, and Rome couldn't help laughing when she jumped up and ran for the john.

It was in his role as counselor that Rome truly found emotional satisfaction. One of the nicest things about being President of the Group for Sensual Involvement was that the members, both male and female, had a compelling need to confess their problems to their leader and mentor. Rome was a combination sexologist, psychiatrist and priest. Girls would come to him to confess their frigidity, to inform him that they wanted to join the group in the hope that the total abandonment of moral principles would lead to the disappearance of their inhibitions: men would confess the need to beat women, or to humiliate them through coprophilia or urolagnia, and Rome would often became excited as he listened to it all.

Of course, there were problems in paradise. Rome was making a great deal of money, and he was enjoying his work, but he knew that his group could only grow so far. When it reached a certain point, it would be difficult for him to provide the personal touch that his members demanded. Furthermore, he suspected that he would soon become satiated with all this sex. He was a participant at one moment and a voyeur the next. Sex had become the driving force -- indeed, almost the only force -- in his life. He thought back to his youth, to dreams of trips abroad and a hitch in the navy or the merchant marine and expensive cars. He didn't have time for the cars, let alone the merchant marine or foreign travel. He barely had time to read the Sunday papers. Rome was working a seven-day week, playing Christ figure to a flock of disciples. He knew that he couldn't keep it up forever. The whole scene was beginning to wear him out already and he had occasional spells of depression moments when he almost wished he'd never conceived the idea of the group at all.

And the legal risks -- Christ, he almost puked every time he thought of the law. What he was doing certainly wasn't legal in a sense he was little better than a pimp. He was taking money to provide people the chance to fuck and to commit the strangest, most despicable perversions. He'd been providing his members with almost everything short of necrophilia. And he suspected he'd have to provide that before long.

Rome didn't know how many years he could get for this sort of activity, but he did know that he was bound to get caught if he kept this game up forever. The cops weren't stupid; slow, maybe, but not stupid. The larger his group became, the more likely it was that some cop might infiltrate it or that some disgruntled member might bring GSI to the attention of the police. The whole thing was depressing to think about, and it would be even more depressing if it came to pass.

"Rome?" Lisa was addressing him, her voice so low as to be almost inaudible.

"Talk louder. I can't hear you."

"I don't know how to say this, Rome, but..." she hesitated. "I did enjoy that, you know."

"I figured as much," he said with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

"I'd been fucked before, but not in the ass."


"I never liked being fucked the regular way. It made me feel... well, used. Like I'm in Women's Lib, you know? Some of the girls use the word cunt to describe a woman who sells out to a man. You know, the kind of girl who marries some lawyer and lives unhappily ever after tending to the dirty diapers of a bunch of snot-nosed kids."

Rome nodded as she looked him in the eye.

"So I have this emotional thing about being a cunt. Which probably has something to do with the fact that I'm uptight about using my cunt. Even when I'm with another girl, making it with a lez like Jan, I don't find myself particularly turned on by having a bunch of fingers crammed up my twat. It's the clitoris that counts, and maybe the love lips. My asshole, too, when someone's thoughtful enough to give it a digital cleaning job. And today..." She closed her eyes and I shuddered. "Well, Rome, it was nice."

Rome picked at his nose for a moment, then spoke a quiet, almost fatherly tone. "What are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Huh?" She frowned. "How do you mean?"

"I mean are you going to stick to dykes, or are you going to open yourself up to other men?"

She glared at him. "I let you fuck my ass, didn't I?"

"Yes. But we have a rather special relationship. I'm your leader, your sexual advisor. Your procurer, for that matter. You come to me when you want to learn something about yourself or when you need to have the shame reamed out of you via a nice session of humiliating sex -- like today."

Lisa said nothing; she merely stared at her knees. Rome reached out and touched her breast. Both them were still naked and were sitting side by side the living room sofa, the velvet one near the wood burning fireplace. "Well, what's the story?" Rome asked.

"I don't know if I'm ready to make it with another man," she confessed in a choked voice. She seemed most on the verge of tears.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm -- God, I'm just too uptight." She bent her body forward, pressed her face into her hands and curled into a sort of sitting fetal position on the couch.

"Take it easy, for Christ's sake."

"I'm trying tooooooo!" she sobbed.

"I want you to fuck another guy," he told her.



"I'll set it up for you," he said. "Tomorrow. The day after, maybe. Hell, if you want me to I can arrange things for tonight."

"I don't want it, Rome!" she cried sharply, sitting up and staring at him with wild eyes.

"Good Lord," He put a finger to his lips, grabbing her wrist with his free hand and giving her a sharp squeeze. "Calm down. I was merely trying to help you, damn it."

"I don't want to be helped," she sniffed.

"Sure you do. You're not a dyke. Not really. Oh; you enjoy the lez stuff enough -- I don't blame you; if I a were a girl I'd like it too -- but you're not a hard-core dyke the way Jan is."

Lisa stiffened. "I love Jan."

"Sure, sure. A crush, that's all it is. An unusually powerful relationship. Jan satisfies your sexual needs while providing you with a target for your nervous tensions. You can play the dominant role with Jan. She'll take whatever kind of shit you can dish out. And when you've dished out all the shit you can give, you come to me and whimper for another heap. You can't humiliate until you've been humiliated. You know, what you need is a schedule. A fucking schedule, with someone slipping it to you about four times a week. You need to be fucked just often enough to remember that you're a woman, a receptacle and not someone who's supposed to dish it out."

"Male chauvinism again," she said sarcastically.

"I was being facetious." Half-facetious, he corrected himself silently.

"I still don't see how you can say I'm not a dyke," she told him. "I had my first lesbian experience when I was fifteen, in convent school where I..."

"The old Catholic boarding school bit, huh? Sounds like you stole it from a dirty navel. Little girls getting their hymens popped by nuns holding crucifixes, the same old corny bullshit..."

"Let me finish!" she said sharply. "It wasn't anything like that. I was sharing a room with another girl, a French girl named Marcelle. She was pretty, very pretty, far more delicate in her features than me. She spoke French beautifully -- which made sense, was from Lyon -- and she had lovely manners, what with being the daughter of a second secretary to the French Embassy and all."

"Anyway, a lot of us girls were shy about undressing in front of one another and the like -- the nuns' influence, you know, don't look at your tits in the mirror when you brush your teeth -- all that stuff -- but Marcelle was different. Instead taking her nightgown to the showers with her and putting it on in the stall like the rest of the girls, she come back to our room in her bathrobe and put it in front of me."

"I was embarrassed at first, and I'd ways try and time my tooth brushing to coincide with her arrival from the shower. I'd lean over the sink a brush my teeth for about five minutes while she slowly put on her nightie and crawled into bed. I was almost afraid to look at her nightgowns, in fact, some of them were almost transparent. A couple them were even confiscated by the Mother Superior who thought they violated the school's rules."

"Anyhow, I started to think about the way Marcelle pranced around naked in the room. Though it wasn't really prancing; she was far too delicate and mannerly for that."

"One night I held up my head higher thin usual while brushing my teeth so I could catch a few glimpses of her in the mirror. I saw her remove the soft flannel bathrobe and put it on the bed. She stood there for a moment or so, staring at her tits in the mirror on the dresser. They were nice ones, too -- a little bigger than mine, but more pointed with big nipples that always looked pink and stiff. She balanced her tits in her hands for a moment, and I found myself on the verge of giggling as I thought how she looked like some housewife hefting rutabagas in the supermarket."

"Then I got another glimpse of her in the mirror as she did a little ballet exercise while holding her hands behind her head. She seemed to be doing it for no particular reason, unless she knew I was watching. It was as if she were in love with her body, so in love with her sensuality and grace that she had to touch herself and look at herself before going to shed each night. I looked at her pubic hair, which was a lot skimpier than mine, and I saw how her legs looked like they were about three inches apart from the top. You could see the light coming through from behind her, and it was like the entrance to a cave as seen from inside. A real gap, you know?"

"She must have trimmed the hair, because I could see the outline of her sex lips. The outer lips, that is. Very delicate, like all of her, but also very distinct. There was this little cleft in the middle of that space between her thighs, and I found myself transfixed by it. Suddenly she looked up and saw my eyes in the mirror."

"Her mouth turned up in a little smile, and she said something to me, something so soft and low that I couldn't hear. Stupid me, I said 'What?' making it obvious that I'd been watching her. Naturally, I wouldn't have known she had said anything if I hadn't seen her mouth moving in the mirror."

"So she did another little turn for me, lifted her right leg delicately as if she wanted me to see more of that lovely crotch. Then she smiled again, blushed prettily, and put her nightgown on. Then we went to bed. And that was all."

Rome had been listening carefully and was stroking Lisa's right knee. "You're sure that was all?" he asked quietly.

"It was all for that night," Lisa explained. "But the next night... well, she did it again. But this time she made sure I saw her naked before I could start brushing my teeth. As soon as she came into the room she took off her bathrobe and hung it over a peg on the door. She smiled at me again, the same enticing smile, and she began her exercise routine."

"I couldn't start my tooth brushing routine; I had to watch. I knew she wanted me to watch, and I also knew I couldn't help watching. I stood there, feeling a sort of fluttering sensation in my stomach, and then -- for no real reason -- I found myself wanting to follow her example."

"I bit my lip, blushed like a radish, and pulled off my pajama tops. Then, before I could let my better judgment say no, I yanked off the bottoms and tossed them onto my bed, I began to pirouette with her, to lift my right leg while curling my left arm and all the rest of the ballet things that I didn't know anything about but could imitate without too much trouble. She did a split, and I did a split. I felt my cunt lips spread open as they almost touched the floor, and I heard a little farting noise as my twat filled up with air."

"Marcelle giggled at that, and so did I. I was blushing a mile a minute, but I was giggling too, and when I got to my feet I couldn't do anything but stand there and laugh. It was like a barrier had been broken. Marcelle came over to me and put her arms around me lightly, at the same time leaning forward and kissing me on the lips. Nothing dykey about it -- just a light, sisterly kiss. But what it did to me!"

"I could actually smell the juices that started oozing from my crotch. I was embarrassed as hell. 'What if she notices?' I asked myself. And I guess she did notice, because the next moment she was embracing me a little more lightly, mattering something in French. I couldn't understand what she was saying; I never did get anything higher than a 'D' in French. But I got the idea quickly enough when she started to caress my back with her fingertips."

"I felt ashamed of myself, and a little afraid, but I couldn't think of doing anything but to do the same thing to her as she was doing to me. That is, I put my arms around her and I started to rub her back. The shoulder blades first, then the line or fissure or whatever you call it that goes down the back, then the little depression at the base of the spine. She started to rub the top of my ass, right between the buns, and I shuddered. It wasn't just a shiver; it was a shudder. I felt those fingers in there, parting the cheeks at the top and rubbing the bones of my spine, and I shuddered."

"Marcelle seemed to notice my reaction, because she moved the hands lower and continued to probe around in the crack of my ass. I shuddered a few more times, then tried, to pull away. I was becoming afraid; what if she tried to stick a finger in my rectum or something?"

"Well, Marcelle didn't want me to pull away, obviously, so she took her fingers out of the crack and started to rub the cheeks, pressing just hard enough to force my hips against hers."

"We stood there for a long time, kissing and rubbing each other's buns and resting our heads on each other's shoulders. I was excited as hell, really juicing up. I could feel the moisture coming out of my cunt; there was a sort of cool sensation where the juice was evaporating from the hair of my twat."

"Some of the juice started to run down my leg, and I pressed my knees together to catch it. Marcelle must have misunderstood me, because she kissed me harder, really hard, and took her hand off my ass so she could grab one of my tits, I tried again to pull away; I was becoming too afraid, too confused. But she seemed to become even more insistent, and I melted completely when she momentarily let a hand dart between my thighs."

"It was like 400 volts of electricity suddenly shot through my body, all of it coming from a point right there at the top of my pussy. She had touched my clit, the clit I had been afraid to touch myself because of what the sisters had said about masturbation. She touched me again, and I let out a little cry. She kept it up, kept stroking me there and sticking a finger into the outer part of my twat every now and then, and I was so excited I could almost scream."

"She started to strum the clit, and to sort of flip the inner lips from side to side with her fingers, and I started to clench her so tightly that I damn near broke her back. I thought I was going to come, I could feel all kinds of wonderful things that I'd read about in the forbidden books, and it seemed even lovelier than I'd ever imagined. I was seeing stars in front of my eyes -- really, it was like I received a good sock in the jaw -- and my body was shaking all over. I started to rock my hips back and forth, I tried to wrap my legs around one of hers, and then, just as I was about to let it all go in a wild burst of nervous tension, she pulled her hand away. Just pulled it away and laughed. Then she said it was time to go to bed."

"I didn't know what to say, of course -- I was stunned, but I couldn't very well ask her to finish jerking me off -- so I just mumbled good night and went to bed. I didn't even brush my teeth."

Lisa laughed; Rome thought there was a bitter quality to her laugh, but it seemed tempered with nostalgia. "Go on," he said.

"The next night, Marcelle came from the shower and hung her robe up again. This time she didn't play around. She went to her dresser, removed a tiny bottle of perfume that she'd apparently hidden in a box of sanitary napkins, and put it on at the usual strategic points, plus a few others -- her wrists, her temples, behind her ears, between heir tits, at her pulse point -- at the bottom of her neck, you know -- and finally between her legs. Right there where her cunt was."

"Then she told me to lie on her bed. I obeyed. She told me to open my legs so she could see me better. I did that, too, feeling like I was going to be damned to hell at any moment but past the point of caring. I was juicing up just thinking about what we had done the night before, and I was even more excited by lying there with her eyes staring at my virgin little twat."

"She said something about how much hair I had, and about how it was a sign of maturity. I must have blushed, because she told me not to worry. She was being as kind and gentle as ever, but she was completely in charge. She sat on the edge of the bed with one of my legs next to her buttocks, on the mattress, and the other stretched across her thighs. She stroked the insides of my thighs, kept working her fingers higher, and then... well, she touched me. Right where she had the night before, right on the clit."

"I must have nearly leaped off the bed, because she laughed and told me I mustn't get that excited so early in the game. She caressed me some more, making little circles around my clit in a way that was so maddening, so really excruciating. Then she parted the inner lips with her fingers and gazed inside, I thought I was going to die, I was so excited. And then, without my really knowing what was going on, she leaned over and put her lips on my cunt. On my cunt!"

"I'd never heard of oral-genital sex. And there she was, eating me out. She was moving her lips around my clit, sucking on it, lapping at it with the saliva mingling with my juices. The stuff was running all over the place, soaking my thighs and asshole. I thought it was going to leave a stain, on the bed. But I didn't care, not really. I just kept groaning and wishing I could talk to her in French, since French was the language of love. And finally I came, really came. I was writhing and twitching all over the place."

"I didn't know what I was supposed to do after that. I wasn't sure if I were just supposed to say 'thank you' and go to bed, or if I were supposed to eat her out, too, or what. I must have lain or sat there dumbly; I honestly don't remember what I did for the first few minutes after I came. But I do remember finding myself lying below her while she knelt on the bed, following her instructions as she told me what to do with my teeth, lips and tongue. She taught me about sucking the clit, and about using the tip of my tongue to send little shivers through her perineal ridge. She taught me about licking the asshole, about touching it ever so briefly and delicately so and be able to arouse another woman without turning her off. And she taught me about using my fingers."

"Like I said, fingers in my cunt have never turned me on that much, but Marcelle seemed to like being fucked by hand. I learned how to part the lips with my fingers, stretch the hymen with one finger, then put maybe two fingers in it. I could do it without causing pain. It was a whole new world for me, and it almost broke my heart when Marcelle's father was given a transfer and Marcelle told me she would have to go back to Paris at the end of the year."

"And?" Rome was stroking Lisa's breasts lightly, not for erotic effect but out of affection, as one would caress a dog's ears.

"She left."

"That's the end?"

Lisa smiled wanly. "We practiced a lot before she left. We had our... our first experience in March, and she went back to France at the end of May."

"You said you were fifteen?"

Lisa nodded.

"Then you had several more years of boarding school after that."

"That's right. But I didn't get very involved with sex again until I was out of school, I had one roommate who must have heard something about Marcelle and me, because she tried to get into the shower with me a couple of times. But I didn't like her; she was too pushy, too much of a tomboy. Not at all like Marcelle, who was delicate and feminine."

Rome pursed his ups. "Hmm. And after you got out of school?"

Lisa suddenly laughed. It was a joyous laugh, as if her confession had rid her of a great deal of tension. "You're asking a lot of questions, Monsignor," she said.

"You're right, I am. But go on."

Shrugging, Lisa continued. "I spent a couple of years in college. There was one girl in the dormitory who appealed to me, but it was hard to make it with another girl when you had a roommate around. Anyway, the atmosphere wasn't right -- too many girls running around the halls; too much noise from traffic and hi-fi's and so on. I never was promiscuous. I quit school when I was twenty, and I came to New York. That was a year and a half ago. I got this job as assistant to a film editor, and I met Jan at a party, and..."

"How come you haven't moved in with her?"

Lisa's face clouded. "She's living with someone else."

"Another girl, you mean."


"But she loves you." Rome persisted.

"Yes. She lives with the other woman -- some divorcee, a dyke in her forties -- because the bitch pays the bills."

Rome sighed and shook his head, "Your only trouble, Lisa, is that you missed out on coeducation during your formative years."

"There's nothing less reliable than amateur psychoanalysis," she said sardonically.

He shrugged. "Call it what you like. But I'm right, you know. What you needed was a good defloration when you were about sixteen. Six inches of high-school meat up your snatch."

"Do you have to be so vulgar?"

He grinned. "Sorry, I was born that way."

"And maybe I was born a lez," Lisa pointed out.

"No." He shook his head. "You're wrong, Lisa."

"How the hell do you know?" She was angry.

Rome grinned. "I know," he said, "because you squealed like a stuck pig when I fucked you in the ass."


Rome wasn't sure just how much he liked Lisa. Oh, he enjoyed making it with her sexually, all right; partly because fucking humiliated her and partly because screwing her gave him a sense of having done something useful -- of having provided her with a bit of heterosexual therapy, of having given her an insight into the pleasures of man-woman sex. But did be like her? He wasn't sure. She could be incredibly vulgar at times, and she enjoyed dishing out humiliation as much as he enjoyed watching her be humiliated. The way she had behaved with Jan the other night, in front of the group... She hadn't been very nice to Jan, really, though God knows she hadn't behave any worse than Rome himself.

There were moments when Lisa could be remarkably tender. She did love Jan; she said so, and he believed her. It wasn't the same kind of love a woman would have for a man, or even the sort that a true lesbian would feel for a fellow dyke, but it had a certain sincerity. It was a sisterly love with incestuous overtones, one might say.

And the story of Lisa's first lesbian experience, her friendship with Marcelle, had been deeply touching. She had told the story with genuine emotional warmth. It had been more than a confession of sin; it had been a reminiscence of a true friendship, a friendship that bordered on love, Lisa hadn't exploited Marcelle, nor had the French girl taken advantage of Lisa. It had been the tenderest, most genuine form of friendship, and whatever bitterness Lisa felt now was aimed not at Marcelle, but at her own confused sexual identity and needs Lisa was becoming something of a problem for Rome. He found himself worrying about her, identifying with her problems. It was an unhealthy state of affairs, and he knew it. Rome had always been aware of the need to avoid emotional involvement, no matter how casual, with GSI members. Personal counseling was one of the services which he offered, to be sure, hut he had no obligation to cure his members' neuroses and he certainly didn't accept any responsibility for whatever sexual failures his clients might suffer during their tenure in GSI.

Rome wondered about Lisa's relationship with Jan. He knew Jan; he knew the blonde well. There was something about Jan's personality that cried, "Hurt me!" She needed to be dominated. She required a sado-masochistic relationship -- with herself on the receiving end. Yet she needed genuine love or at least affection, as well. The person who hurt her one day would have to assuage her feelings with kind words and delicate caresses the next.

How long would Lisa's relationship with Jan last? Rome wasn't worried about Jan; if she were to lose Lisa, she would soon find a partner to replace the petite brunette. She would try to become closer to her current "keeper", the divorcee; or she would find a new friend within the group. But if the converse occurred, if Jan dropped Lisa, Lisa would no doubt be in for a nasty surprise. Would the brunette be able to adapt? Would she be able to survive the shock, the hurt, to find a new female lover within a reasonable period of time or readjust her thinking to accept a suitable male partner?

Rome didn't know. He did know that he shouldn't care, involvement is weakness, he warned himself in a silent rebuke. Like all men, however, Rome had his weaknesses. Just how serious this current weakness could be was something that only time would tell.

Lisa had left at one o'clock, after they had showered together and exchanged a bare minimum of conversation during lunch. Rome spent the next hour checking his books. He reminded himself to phone his accountant. He wanted to double check a few of the "facts" in the occupational cover story which he and the accountant used in filing his income tax. (Rome was not one to ignore the IRS; what with his sex operation, he was running legal risks already.)

He gave some thought to what he had suggested to Lisa -- the idea of having her ball with a number of males in the hope that the shock treatment of sorts might give her a few insights into the deficiencies of lesbianism. Now that he considered the idea more carefully, he realized it wouldn't work. Not yet, anyway. In time, she might be ready for such an experiment -- soon, in fact, if he could get her to give it awhirl on a voluntary basis. But to force her into it, to work her to a high pitch of desire and have some stud step in for a quick fuck with her, would do more harm than good. Perhaps he should screw her again himself, Rome considered. If he could prove to her that she could enjoy orgasms in two consecutive heterosexual bouts, he might be able to talk her into examining the possibilities. Rome would have to come up with some suitable candidates, with some meal who were masculine enough, yet understanding enough to look out for her orgasmic interests and thus lead her to a cure.

"Cure"? Rome smiled. By puffing down lesbianism, he was making a moral judgment. But what the hell, wasn't that his privilege? In the incestuous world of the Group for Sensual Involvement, Rome was an omniscient and omnipotent God.

The next scheduled group meeting was for eight o'clock, and Rome reviewed his appointment book. Most of the participants were to be married couples who were seeking liberation from their tired, unvaried sex lives by switching mates in an atmosphere of depravity tempered with a "group therapy" let's-let-it-all-hang-out approach. Rome always enjoyed the sessions. They were entertaining, just like a good Western movie. There were the bad guys, and the good guys. You could root for either side or both. There was violence, physical and verbal; and in the end someone always got his or her just desserts.

People began showing up at seven-forty-five. Rome grinned as he greeted his guests at the door. There weren't many stragglers in the world of communal sex. People who would have been a half-hour late for a theatre curtain were invariably punctual when it was time to witness or take part in a juicy, public fuck.

By five past eight everyone was seated in the Discussion Room, a windowless room some twenty-by-twenty feet in size and without furniture. It was a comfortable room, however, by virtue of the three inches of foam padding that lay under the fake, fur-carpeted floor.

"It's like sitting on a polar bear," one newly initiated member giggled, as she dug her fingers into the soft white fuzz.

"Yeah," her husband said. "Except you won't catch fleas and it doesn't bite."

Rome was naked, as were his clients. There were eleven of them altogether; five married couples and one middle-aged male voyeur who had come along for the ride. "We'll start with a few comments on our last meeting," Rome said, consulting his notes. "At our last session, Mr. and Mrs. Schmeling discussed several aspects of impotence. Nora pointed to Max's prick and suggested that it was going limp on her because Max had, in her words, been 'sleeping around'."

"Max denied the charge, claiming that the cause of his impotence was twofold: nervous exhaustion stemming from difficulties at work, and a feeling of inadequacy on Nora's jokes about his small cock. I read a passage from Masters and Johnson which refuted the myth of large cock supremacy, and Nora promised to refrain from such jibes in the future."

"Max agreed to limit his overtime to three hours per week and to temporarily give up his hopes for a more prestigious position within the company. Max and Nora were then encouraged to fuck during the meeting, but Max was unable to get it up. Elvira -- Mrs. Hennessey -- came forward and described how her husband had once, had the same problem and how several techniques that she had learned had helped. She proceeded to fellate Max while toying with his nipples, and in due course the two of them fucked with Nora and the rest of us looking on."

Rome closed his notebook and turned to Nora Schmeling. "Tell me, Nora -- you saw your husband penetrate and achieve mutual orgasm with Elvira Hennessey. Just what were your feelings at the time?"

Nora, a slightly fleshy platinum blonde of about thirty-five, looked down at her knees and flushed. "I was jealous," she confessed. "I know it was immature of me, but..."

"You were jealous?" Rome nodded as if her answer had confirmed some suspicion. "Why were you jealous, Nora?"

The woman shrugged, then looked up. "Why shouldn't I have been jealous? My husband was fucking another woman. It was just like the things I've been accusing him of all along -- he was sleeping around."

"I wasn't sleeping around, I was getting help," Max countered, angered by the charge. "Anyway, what do you think we come to these meetings for? Didn't we agree that we'd come here for sex?"

Rome decided he'd better interrupt before the argument turned into a full-fledged marital tiff. "Nora's reaction was perfectly normal, even if it wasn't justified by the circumstances," Rome said. "As for Max's fucking Elvira, didn't it accomplish what it was supposed to do? He was able to maintain an erection through a lengthy blow job and an equally extended act of screwing. He brought Elvira to climax and enjoyed a healthy orgasm himself. I don't think he should be put down for living up to his potential as a man."

Nora sighed. "I know," she said. "And..."

"Yes?" Rome spoke in a kindly tone.

"We did it three times since the last meeting. Twice it wasn't much, but at least he got it in. But the third time, the day before yesterday, well..." Nora giggled self-consciously, "Can I tell them, Max?"

"Sure," he said, obviously eager for her to announce the good news.

"He did a real nice job, folks. He fucked me real good. I came, for the first time since before we had the kids. And then we talked about masturbation, and we agreed that I could do it whenever I had to after we made love, if we fucked and it wasn't so good, I mean, and..."

"Then you shouldn't have been jealous, isn't that so?" Rome asked.

She blushed, still smiling. "I guess not."

"Very good." Rome rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking, then turned to another couple. "Mr. and Mrs. Larsen. Welcome to the group. People, Sarah and Mike Larsen came to me only two days ago to ask if they could join GSI. Mike is in the laundromat franchise business, and Sarah makes ceramics for the gift shop of an old folks' home." He glanced at Larsen and grinned. "Oh, yes -- as you've probably noticed, Mike is exceptionally well hung."

And so he was. The man's cock was a good eight inches long in a flaccid state, and Rome could tell that his clients were eager to see how it would appear in erection.

"Mike dose have a problem," Rome went on. "And it's Sarah's problem too, in a manner of speaking. Mike, would you like to tell us about it?"

Mike grinned nervously and glanced down at his large, sausage-like phallus. "Yeah, it's like the man says. My cock is too big."

Nervous laughter from the group. At least two of the men appeared to be jealous.

"What he means," Sarah broke in, "is that we have a terrible time making love in most of the normal positions. Or the abnormal positions, come to think of it. Mike's prick is too large for my vagina, and my gynecologist says that surgery isn't a practical answer to the problem at this time. It seems that I shouldn't have my cunt altered, if that's the word, until we've finished having children. Don't ask me why; ask the doctor. Anyway, I keep reading that the vagina is an elastic instrument which will accommodate almost any size penis, but it simply isn't so in my case. Mike is just too darned big for me, I guess. But I love him, even if he is a son-of-a-bitch," Sarah laughed and gave her husband a poke in the ribs.

Rome took over. "I asked the Larsens' to demonstrate their difficulties in my office, and we began with Mike trying to fuck Sarah in the missionary position."

"Sarah winced throughout the act; her cunt simply wouldn't shape itself around Mike's rather unusual organ. Next, I had Sarah lie on top -- stretched out, kneeling, squatting, and several other variations of the female dominant position. The results were moderately successful, but Sarah kept complaining of discomfort whenever Mike got overeager and began to lift his hips off the bed."

"After that, I had them screw in the side-by-side, rear-entry position, which seemed to lessen the problem of Mike's slamming against the rear wall of Sarah's vagina but which, according to Sarah, interfered with the intimacy of love making. Indeed, it interfered sufficiently to derive her of almost all pleasurable sensation."

"I suggested that they come to tonight's meeting with a view toward exchanging partners. No doubt some of you ladies have larger or more elastic cunts than Sarah; girls, Mike awaits your pleasure! And I'm sure there's some fellow among you who'd be willing to take a crack at Sarah's tight-walled pussy. Do I any volunteers?"

Several of the men looked at their wives, and one woman -- a young redhead named Emma Janovitz -- nodded in the direction of Sarah Larsen. "Go on, Phil," she told him firmly, "go up there and show your stuff."

"But, Emma..."

"Don't worry about me, lover. I'll be busy with logjam up there." She got to her feet and headed for Mike, whose penis swelled ever so slightly as she approached. Her husband started to get up, but Rome held up a hand, traffic-cop style, and shook his head.

"One at a lime," he insisted. "Emma, we'll let you make it with Mike while the others look on. When you two have finished, Phil and Sarah can give it a try. Places, everybody."

Emma grinned up at the tall, strapping Mike, totally free from self-consciousness as she reached out and rested two fingers on the shaft of his slowly expanding cock. "Any way you want it," she told him. "You on top, me on top, in the mouth or dog style...!"

Mike shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the attention. "I'll let you decide."

Rome took control once again. "For the sake of the group's ability to observe what's happening, why don't you try it with Emma on her back, legs over Mike's shoulders? This should be good for Mike -- he'll be able to slam away at will without worrying about excessively deep penetration -- and you, Emma, will have control over how deep you want him to thrust. The position will be nice from the group's viewpoint since we'll be able to see better what's going on."

Emma shrugged. "I'm game."

Mike scratched his nose. "I'm Mike." He laughed, proud of own joke.

Christ, Rome thought, a real card. The joker, no less.

"Okay, you two, on the floor. Emma, I want you on your back, legs well apart. Get your knees up so you can throw your legs over Mike's shoulders when he's in position. Mike? Kneel. Get ready, Emma. No, Mike, not stretched out like that, but kneeling. Back straighter. Come to think of it, you'd better put your knees farther back so you're sort of all-stretched out. Hmmm... Knees a little more forward, Mike, and -- there, that's fine. Emma? You can put your legs up now?" Rome glanced at Sarah, who was biting her lip as she looked on. "Take it easy, Sarah. You two made this decision for yourselves. Keep an eye on this, please; you may want to try it for yourself."

Rome returned his gaze to the soon-to-be-fucking couple. Emma had draped her knees over Mike's shoulders and was grinning as she looked between her thighs at Mike's semirigid cock. The prick was a masterpiece of anatomical art, a full ten inches in length by perhaps two and a half in diameter.

"You'll never get that big thing in you," Emma's husband scoffed, somewhat unhappily, from the sidelines.

Emma only laughed. "Keep your fingers crossed, honey. When this guy's finished with me, I may be so loose that I'll need a horse to keep me happy."

The word "horse" reminded Rome that he had better seize the reins again. "Quiet, everyone. Mike, grasp your cock in the middle and rest the head in Emma's slit. Ah, that's fine. You know, I'd like to take a picture of this. Do either of you mind?" Before Mike or Emma could think of an answer, Rome produced a 35 mm camera with electronic flash which had been hidden inside the podium. He snapped several quick close-ups of the monster cock arching into the oozing vaginal vestibule, then returned the camera to the podium. "Sorry for the delay," he said. "Let's get this show on the road. Emma, I want you I to reach down and touch the cock. From below. Try reaching under your right leg -- yeah, that's the way -- and touch it just below the head, near where it's sticking into your body. Careful, don't dislodge it Mike, your cock doesn't stiffen up too quickly, does it? Don't feel guilty; everyone reacts that way at first. Most men aren't used to fucking in front of a group. That's our puritan heritage for you. Emma, tickle it can you feel that, Mike? Do you like it, huh? Don't be afraid to tell her if she's doing anything wrong. If you want her to touch you higher or lower, if you want her to pinch your balls or stick a finger in your ass, by all means say so. This is a liberated environment. The Group for Sensual Involvement, remember that. Is it all right? Mike? Is..."

"Maybe she could squeeze my balls," Mike said reluctantly. Rome chuckled out loud; he could tell that the man was about to go limp with embarrassment.

"You heard him, Emma. Squeeze his balls." Mike smiled as the woman complied with Rome's order, then winced when she squeezed too hard. "Hey!" he cried.

Eamo shook his head. "A little more delicately, please. Surely you've squeezed your husband's testicles before. You should know better than to..."

Emma's spouse laughed harshly from the sidelines. "She squeezed them a hell of a lot harder than that," he said. "You might say that we have a sado-masoch-istic relationship." He coughed. "With me playing the victim."

"Be that as it may," Rome said to the woman, "you're the one who's supposed to get fucked this time. Caress them lightly Emma. Try tickling Mike by playing with the hairs..."

"Christ," Mike muttered, his voice dissolving into a sigh.

Rome laughed. "I see it's working. Now, Mike, I want you to make things nice for Emma, too. You might try working, your hand between your bodies to her clit where..."

Emma interrupted. "I'm fine," she whispered. "I like it just the way it is."

Mike was thrusting lightly into the woman's vestibule, his eyes closed and his face turning a deep shade of red. "Goddamn, I think I'm going to get a real piece of ass," he murmured.

"Don't forget," Rome cautioned, "that I want this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you. Mike, I don't want you to enjoy yourself at the expense of Emma. If you make Emma go away angry, or for that matter aching, your wife isn't going to be too turned on to the idea of taking that big cock of yours into her pussy. As for you, Emma, don't start acting possessive. You two are fucking, and that's all. This isn't some kind of love affair. I've seen you becoming emotionally involved with your partners before, and in GSI that sort of thing is forbidden. Forbidden, is that clear?" His voice was harsh, and Emma nodded silently in acknowledgement of the implied threat.

Rome continued. "Remember, this isn't a Goddamn wife-swapping party. This is a group training session -- an opportunity for each couple to expand mutual and individual horizons in the wonderful world of sex. There shouldn't be guilt, but there shouldn't be betrayal either. You're not committing adultery tonight; you're committing an act of self-education, an act of increasing you and your spouse's mutual self-awareness." Rome suddenly laughed as he saw Mike's trembling jaw. "Sorry, Mike. I shouldn't have strayed from the subject at hand. Go to it -- slowly, now; I don't want you to hurt her. Silence, everyone. I want us to hear him going in."

The room was quiet as Mike inhaled deeply and prepared to push past Emma's vaginal sphincter. The ten-inch cock seemed almost threatening as its monstrous knob rested in the spread inner lips of Emma's cunt. "Are you ready?" Mike asked in a rasping whisper.

Emma nodded. "Yes." Her voice choked.

Mike uttered something which no one could hear, then took another deep breath and slowly pushed forward. Emma stiffened as the cock head pushed against her membranes; her cunt was loose, but not that loose. "God, you're a monster!" she said to him, her little laugh tinged with fear.

Mike moved forward another quarter of an inch. Rome lay nearby, stretched out on his stomach so he could see all. The other group members were looking on with similar eagerness, and Rome hoped Mike wouldn't be distracted by all the attention that was being focused on his massive prick.

"Ah! ... Oooh." Emma jerked, then relaxed as the cock head squeezed past the ringlike sphincter of her vaginal opening. She kept her eyes tightly closed as Mike continued to push forward slowly; her jaw suddenly went slack, spittle trickling out of one corner of her mouth, as another inch and a half of stiff phallus went into her hole.

Rome began to give instructions softly, tonelessly, speaking as quietly as possible so as not to interfere with the squishing and schlupping of Mike's cock in Emma's juicy hole. "Relax your thighs, Emma," he said. "You seem to be resisting. You're only making things harder for yourself. Relax those thigh muscles, get your knees farther apart so they're just barely balancing on the edges of Mike's shoulders... Very nice, Emma. Mike, don't he so cautious. You're inside; you can use a little less discretion now. Emma's got her legs over your shoulders, and she's got her hands on your neck -- I warned you not to lean forward so far! Anyway, she's got control. Farther in now. Think of it -- a vagina designed for your fantastic cock. Pretend she's Sarah, if that makes you feel less uptight. One day Sarah's cunt will he like that, once she's had her babies and the doctor..." Rome's voice trailed off as he felt his own prick stiffening at the sigh of Mike's huge organ glistening with its coating of vaginal juices. Mustn't get too turned on, he warned himself. Got to maintain professional detachment.

Rome continued to give suggestions as he and his clients watched Mike and Emma fuck. He felt a tightening of his gut and a thickening of his throat I membranes as he saw Emma begin to writhe eagerly, her cunt lips fluttering against the thick cock's shaft and heard her occasional fart of desire and gratitude. He tried to shut out the steady slap-slap-slap of flesh against flesh, the heavy odor of cunt juice and perspiration. He tried to remain detached, to keep his own needs under control, to think of what was happening in front of him in the role of a guide and counselor, not as a voyeur...

"Holy-fucking-shit -- I'm coming!" Mike suddenly groaned, his sentence pouring out in a single, breathless burst. His buttocks tightened, his thighs trembled, and he cried out again as the first dollop of semen shot into Emma's wailing hole. Rome and his fellow spectators could see the five-inch protruding portion of Mike's cock thicken, then contract as each squirt load of jism spewed through it. Goddamn, Rome thought, if I had the right camera this would make a fantastic movie...

Rome tried to keep his eyes off Emma's gaping twat after Mike had pulled out, but of course he couldn't. He found himself staring at the juice-dripping crack, at the generous hole that was already leaking semen; his eyes flicked over to Mike's cock, which was rapidly softening into a curved length of glistening meat and which was spinning a spiderlike thread of jism from its red-slashed tip.

"Very nice," Rome managed to tell them, hoping his erection would die down before he had to roll out of his prone position. "We'll take Sarah and Phil next, if they're willing. Sarah..."

Sarah Larsen was blushing. "I don't know," she said.

"Go ahead, baby," Mike gasped as he crawled over to her. "You deserve a good fucking. One that won't hurt you."

Sarah reluctantly glanced at Phil, whose average-size prick was already turning into a hard-on. "I don't how..."

"Go on," Mike insisted.

Rome glanced at his watch. His erection was as powerful as ever, and the tingling of his cock had disappeared -- to be replaced by a dull, steady ache.

"Let's get a move on," he said wearily. Christ, he thought, this is going to be a hell of a long evening...


Rome was tired the following morning. It made sense. Rome always felt exhausted after a night of fucking or supervising the copulation of others. The job took a lot out of him, physically and emotionally, and now -- as he drank his second cup of coffee -- it was eleven-thirty A.M. and time for more work. Fortunately, he was able to turn his energies (such as they were) to the less strenuous task of drafting classified ads.

Advertisements were of immense importance to Rome's operation. Word-of-mouth helped a great deal, of course, but advertising was the primary means of communication between Rome and potential GSI members. Rome placed numerous ads in the personal columns of Screw and the various other sex tabloids. Some of the ads were subtle, and some were not; it all depended on the sexual topic at hand and what sort of customer (shy or openly sex-crazed) he was attempting to reach.

Rome's first ad of the morning was aimed at people who were hung up on black-white sex relations. Its language was discreetly frank:

INTERLIACIAL FRIENDSHIP CLUB open to all who share the belief that eroticism is a gift to be shared by people of all colors. Discussions, lectures, demonstrations, audience participation. Details from P.O. Box 8881, Sophie Tucker Station, NYC 10099.

Interracial sex ads always drew a stack of replies; Rome estimated that there were thousands of New Yorkers who, out of myth hangups or curiosity, were hot to make it with members of another race. It was usually a matter of whites wanting to do it with blacks; the ratio of white to black responses was about two hand a half to one. Orientals were an insignificant factor, though a few men -- usually Vietnam veterans -- wanted to make it with Asian women. American Indians hardly ever replied, though an occasional white woman (middle-aged, as a rule) inquired about the possibility of being fucked by a "hung Navajo" or a "gentle but manly Apache type". Odd, but true.

Rome had difficulty in locating suitable black partners for his white customers, since he didn't deal in ghetto types and the educated blacks seemed to resent GSI recruitment on the grounds that Rome regarded them as "sexual objects". Thus black GSI members found themselves several times as active in the group as their white counterparts, which was fine with them but worrisome to Rome, who feared that members might become stale from excessive orgy participation.

The second ad to come from Rome's typewriter was sadist oriented. There were a lot of people who went in for s-and-m, and the number of replies from sadists was almost equal to the inquiries from masochists who were looking for a good stomping, whipping or whatever. Rome used the traditional bondage keywords in this ad:

STERN DISCIPLINARIANS needed to meet with passive men and women who feel that to spare the rod is to spoil the fun. Educated males and females only. Bisexuals O.K.. Reply to P.O. Box 7942, Sophie Tucker Station, NYC 10099.

Rome maintained a number of post office boxes under various aliases. He used any of several postal stations within reasonably comfortable walking distance from his apartment. He picked a different station for his ad aimed at anally fixated homophiles:

GUYS WHO LIKE GUYS -- Why not meet Mr. Right in the privacy of a luxurious bachelor pad? I provide the partners, you provide the fun. B.Y.O.K.Y! I'm talking about guys who like assholes, blow jobs, hand jobs, the works, but assholes -- ah, sweet dimples of lust! -- in particular! You must be clean, well educated, and willing to work for the sexual betterment of a like minded group. No introverts, please. Send photo and personal data to P.O. Box 438, Father Hill Station, NYC 10097. All inquiries will remain confidential!

Rome was sure that the authorities were after him, hence the fictitious names. His primary worry, however, was that postal inspectors might get wind of his operation and harass people who replied to his ads.

Thus he was very careful in establishing new post office box numbers. He always tried to deal with a clerk who wouldn't recognize him, and on occasion he hired other people -- hippies, GSI members, friends -- to rent the boxes for him. He hadn't been nabbed or harassed yet, and he hoped things would remain as safe and relaxed as they had been so far.

Screening the replies to his ads was a pain in the ass. A large percentage of the replies were from crackpots and freaks. Rome had no desire to deal with such people. "I run an organization for respectable men and women," he liked to say, and his customers were indeed reputable for the most part if one overlooked their sexual proclivities. Rome believed, doubt correctly, that letting the freaks into his or would increase the likelihood of exposure and ultimate arrest.

Rome sighed as he went to work on the final ad of the morning. It was aimed at voyeurs, specifically those peepers who dug stag films. It was a triumph of copywriting talents:

CINEMA BUFFS, UNITE! We've got the movies -- all we need now is the audience, and that means you! See stag flicks, vintage and contemporary, in congenial surroundings with like minded adults. This is a private club, and we can show you the finest erotic movie material available today. Our stuff is hotter than anything you'll see on 42nd Street and of infinitely greater quality than anything you can order by mail. You'll be able to enjoy these classic film works in an audience situation; what you do in the screening room, whether it involves masturbation or making new friends, is entirely up to you! This ad is NOT aimed at derelicts child molesters and dirty old men -- rather, it is intended to appeal to those educated, sexually liberated adults whose interests are centered on the silver screen. Reply in confidence to Box 1940, Warren Harding Station, NYC 10092.

Rome was tired. Writing advertisements might not be strenuous, but it was fatiguing. It wasn't yet noon, and he had been awake for only an hour and a half, but Rome was sorely tempted to go into the bedroom and take a well-earned nap. Instead, he found himself once again reviewing his earlier years... thinking back... There was a certain joy and a certain sorrow in doing that...

There he was, a high school student, and he was going to get his first piece of ass. Oh, it hadn't been promised to him, but he knew he was going to get it. No doubt about it. Luline, a sixteen-year-old bundle of nymphomaniac desires, was going to spread her legs for him. It was a sure thing, as sure as subzero weather in a Minnesota January.

He knew about Luline. Everybody did. There were a good two dozen guys who said they'd fucked her; and Rome had no reason to doubt their stories. Luline was the kind of girl who looked like she did it... She walked sexily and wore short skirts; she let her knees fall open when she sat in class and she licked her lips whenever she chatted with a male teacher or one of the more self-assured boys. Rome had asked her out, and she'd accepted. There wouldn't be anymore petting or finger fucking, not tonight. A bit of foreplay, perhaps, but it wouldn't take Rome long to jet down to basics. Fucking. That was what Luline was all about. She was a fucking machine, a hunk of meat with a gaping pussy in it, and he was going to luck her for all that she was worth.

Rome picked her up at seven and took her to a movie. The film was Dracula Meets the Lizard Man, and it was an artistic disaster. But it turned Luline on and that was what mattered. Rome had heard about her fondness for monster movies, of how she squirmed and giggled every time a reptilian creature slithered across the screen. Phallic symbolism? Rome didn't know. He was a teen-age boy, not a Freudian psychiatrist. What he did know was that he was going to fuck her, probably within an hour or two.

They had Cokes at Morrie's Milk Bar when the show was over, and they headed for Luline's car. Lune had to do the driving, since Rome didn't have his license yet, but neither of them cared. Luline drove slowly, provocatively; Rome felt like crying "Go faster!", like telling her to speed to the local lovers' lane so they could fondle, pant and fuck.

Luline didn't have any doubts as to her own place in Rome's plans, fortunately. She reached the wilderness preserve in due course and parked as if she'd done it a million times before. She probably had, Rome thought with mixed jealousy and amusement. It was funny, but he didn't like the thought that she'd slept with so many other guys. Maybe it was because he hated to face the fact that she was more experienced than he.

"Hi," she said, turning to face him. She was grinning.


"I guess you wanted to park, didn't you?" she asked.


Luline giggled. "I'll bet you've heard a lot about me."

"I sure have."

"You must think I'm terrible."

"God, no. I think you're great!" Rome said it so intensely, so sincerely, that he blushed a second after he'd uttered the words. It sounded so adolescent. So Goddamned dumb.

Luline licked her lips. The old telltale sign, thank God! "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"I want you to undress," he said.



She shrugged. "Are we going to do it here or on the ground?"

"We'll get dirty if we do it outside the car," Rome said.

Luline laughed in a way that said Rome was lacking in something -- namely, experience. "There's a blanket in the trunk, stupid," she said with a wry smile.

Rome was steaming. The girl was trying to make an ass out of him! Still, she wanted to be fucked. She wouldn't have come here with him if she wasn't eager. "Give me the keys," he muttered. He took the key ring from her and went to the trunk, where he removed the blanket and spread it out under a nearby tree. In the moonlight he could see the numerous stains from previous escapades. Indeed, the blanket felt stiff in spots, its wool hardened by God knew how many gobs of starchlike semen.

Rome looked around. Luline was already undressing. She had her sweater off and was fiddling with her bra. Rome moved to help her, but she had the strap unhooked before he could reach her. She shrugged the brassiere off her tits casually, as if to remind him that she'd done it a hundred times before. Rome's cock tingled as he saw her breasts. They weren't fantastic, their shape wasn't anything to write home about, but the quantity was something else. They were big, with soft nipples that spread across two inches of flesh at the outermost point of each breast. There was nothing aesthetic about them, and they'd never get into a photo magazine, but they were female. Very female. They were the kind of big, floppy breasts that a fellow could dream of sucking, of sticking his cock between and sliding back and forth till the jism started to flow.

"I..." He was going to compliment her on the magnificence of her breasts, but he stopped himself just in time. She'd merely think him naive. Rome kept his mouth shut and watched as Luline stepped out of her short plain skirt to reveal a cotton half -- slip. The petticoat came off quickly, and Rome's guts began to churn as he saw the bulge in her panties where the fabric was strained by an excess of something... labia? Pubic hair?

Luline didn't waste time on seductive nonsense. She pulled the briefs off quickly, and Rome saw what he'd been waiting for. Hair, tons of it, a multitude of curls that grew from the hidden recesses of her crotch up to a point not far below her navel. She had the bushiest twat that Rome had ever seen; he didn't know a girl could be so hairy. It made him uncomfortable at first; was she part male? Was there something unfeminine about a girl who had so much pubic fur?

Luline was laughing. At him.

"What's so funny?" he asked angrily.

"I'm laughing at the way you're staring at me," she said. "I'm sorry. It's just that you look so shocked."

Bitch! "Maybe I am a little shocked," he allowed.

"Sorry." She was still laughing. "Look, maybe you'd better get your own clothes off if we're going to do you-know-what."

Rome cursed silently but did as she suggested. He almost ripped his shirt off, tossing it onto the forest floor without thinking that it might get dirty. He kicked off his brown loafers, unzipped his jeans, stripped down to his shorts as quickly as she'd gotten to her panties. His briefs were bulging with the enormity of his erection, and she could hardly wait to set the cock free. Bitch! he thought again, as he inserted his fingers in the waistband and pushed downward, drawing the shorts over his hips and bringing his cock, all seven-and-a-quarter inches of it, into view. He waited for her reaction. There wasn't any to speak of. She was eyeing his prick with interest, but she didn't seem particularly impressed. Well, fuck it. Rome kicked his shorts to one side and motioned to the blanket. Silently, he dropped to his knees, cursing to himself once more as he felt the stiff spots and saw the stains, and he watched with trembling cock as Luline came over and knelt beside him on the blanket.

"Kind of eager, aren't you?" she said as she nodded toward his cock. Rome flushed proudly and reached out to grasp her right fit. Luline didn't resist as he pinched the nipple between two fingers and rubbed it to hardness. Nor did she object when he let go of the breast and moved his hand to her crotch, which he explored slowly, his fingertips creeping from the thatch of her pubic mound to the moist slit between her thighs.

Rome grinned as he slipped an inch of finger into her cunt. "Kind of eager yourself, aren't you?" He felt a curious quivering just beneath the head of his cock.

He was ready to fuck her, and he was on the verge of doing just that when she pushed him away. "Not yet," she said.

"Why not?" His cock was aching with need.

"Eat me first."

"Oh, shit..."

"I always insist that the boy eat me before we screw. Sorry, but it's one of my rules."

The bitch! She was trying to humiliate him with her constant reminders that he wasn't the first. And she wanted him to eat her pussy. Hell, he didn't mind that, and he rather liked the idea of sucking her cunt because of his relative lack of experience in that area, but he didn't like being told what to do. "Let's fuck," he said thickly, trying to shove her onto her back.

"No!" She slapped him. Slapped him! Rome couldn't believe it.

"Holy..." he began, but she cut him off with another light slap to the mouth. She was laughing at him, her eyes sparkling tolerantly, and Rome was incensed.

"Eat me," she ordered again, lying back with her legs spread wide. "We'll fuck in a little while."

Rome held his breath. He couldn't rape her; he could go to jail for that, right? He'd heard of guys being thrown into prison for fucking women who'd been, eager at first but who'd changed their minds midway through the proceedings. He wanted to fuck her, had to fuck her, and there was only one way that he could count on doing it. That, alas, was to do as she insisted. He had to eat her. "Okay," he muttered. The bitch!

Angrily, Rome fell to his knees and elbows and prepared to go the oral-genital route. He brought his face near her pussy and took a deep sniff; she smelled like... well, like a female. She was hot for it, there was no doubt about that, Rome paused briefly, hoping she'd beg him to get on with it, but she didn't say anything. The bitch was still trying to humiliate him; still, he had to go on...

"Ah!" She gasped softly as Rome pressed his mouth to her cunt. Rome's tongue slid into the fissure and held the inner lips apart while he used his upper lip to rub the sensitive clit. He felt her thighs tighten about his head, and he stuck his tongue even deeper into the slit so he could savor the taste of her fresh, abundant juices. There was something faintly fishy about the flavor, but he didn't mind it at all; on the contrary, he found it exciting, and he felt an even greater need to stuff his cock into her snatch.

"Higher," she said after a while. "Lick my clit. With your tongue." Rome stiffened; she was still giving commands! Here she was, trembling with desire, and she had the presence of mind to give him orders! Still, Rome knew better than to object; he pulled his tongue from her labia and moved it upward to the exposed knob of the clitoris, lapping at the oversized organ until he heard a long, racking noise and felt her pubic bone press against his face as she lifted her ass off the blanket. Well, he was showing her. She might be more experienced than he, but he had the inborn talent to give her a hell of a good licking.

Rome kept at her. Tongue on clit, teeth scraping against the flesh where the shaft disappeared into her pubic mound, fingers sliding into pussy, single finger of other hand stroking her perineum and asshole, hot breath bathing her entire genital region in humid warmth...

Shit, she was responding! Really responding. He could see her writhing beneath his moving mouth, could feel her fingers digging into his scalp. So she thought she could humiliate him, eh? Well, he'd show her who was boss. Tongue into cleft. He was stroking her clit with two fingers, now, alternately rubbing and strumming it as he forced his tongue deeper and deeper into her juice-drenched cunt. He loved the taste of her, loved the stench of her juices, the stench that tickled his nostrils almost to the point of irritation but not quite, loved to stroke her, to stick his tongue in her, to feel her asshole and to think of how he was going to fuck her in a very, very short time.

"Yes!" she moaned. "Oh, yessssssss!" Her voice dissolved into a hiss as he slathered saliva over her cunt. Shove! Yeah, he drove them as deep as they'd go. Her vaginal sphincter gripped the fingers, and when he pulled his hand away her cunt seemed reluctant to let go. I'm going to lick your asshole, he told her silently, and so he did. He pushed her legs farther apart and used both hands to spread her anal cheeks so that he could slide his tongue into the cleft of her ass. He tickled her perineum with his tongue tip leaving a trail of saliva as he did so; then he stabbed the tongue against the tight dimple itself, soaking the crimped-opening with vast gobs of spittle. Take that, he thought as he cleared his throat noisily and spat yet more saliva into the space between the cheeks. She was whimpering now, begging him to fuck her. "Now!" she cried. "Fuck me!" she shrieked a moment later when he continued to lick her asshole. No sweat, he thought; he was going to fuck her, all right, but when he was good and ready. The tables had been turned, and now it was she who was doing the begging. Well, let her beg some more. Let her wheedle, whimper, beg, wheeze, groan... shit, he felt like forcing her to give him a blow job. But no. He didn't want to come in her mouth, not yet. He just wanted to fuck her.

Ah. He'd pulled his tongue from her asshole and was about to stick it back into her pussy when she surprised him by blowing a fart. He was turned off at first -- Christ, to think he'd licked her there a moment ago -- but after a moment's thought he found it rather amusing. If he wasn't careful, she'd be shitting all over the place after a couple more licks. No more asshole licking, he cautioned himself; it was back to the cunt where the smells and flavors were more to his liking.

"Oh, God!" She was whimpering, and her tone pleaded for him to fuck her. Rome stabbed four fingers -- four whole fingers -- into her twat and spread he opening as wide as he could make it go. Luline cried out in pain and begged him to stop. Rome, amused, only hurt, her more. He forced a fifth finger into the pussy, spread the sphincter until he was certain she'd burst, and only when he saw the tears running down her cheeks did he pull them out.

"Sorry," he muttered in a sudden burst of shame. He was relieved when he saw that she stopped weeping and went back to normal once his fingers went back to massaging her clit. She was writhing again, lifting her ass up in the air with her legs parted wide and her cunt glistening in the moonlight and the stench of her juices assaulting his nostrils and...

"Fuck me!" she begged yet again. Rome, his cock suddenly burning with unfulfilled desire, made the snap decision to obey. He'd fuck her, all right, but only because he was ready at last. He was doing it for his benefit, not for hers.

"All right," he said softly as he rose halfway and crawled forward so that his prick came within inches of her cunt.

There was a way of doing this, he thought as he stared down at his swollen cock. He lowered himself into the missionary position and used his left hand to balance his weight as his right hand moved to the cock and aimed it in the direction of Luline's pussy. He rested the cock head against her pubic fur, then moved it downward until it slid into the waiting vestibule of her labia. The lips were wet and warm and the sensation was completely fantastic. Overwhelming, that was the word for it. He hadn't even fucked her yet, was only on the verge of sticking it in her, but he was feeling great already. This was going to be quite a night.

"Fuck me!" she screamed, thrusting her hips forward and upward, catching him by surprise. A good three inches of cock was in her before Rome knew what was happening, and he almost fell off balance as she began to pump back and forth on his organ.

"Jesus," Rome took stock of the situation and felt a tremendous surge of relief. She'd done it for him, she'd saved him the worry of wondering just how to handle his first fuck. Suppose he'd made an ass of himself as he put it in? ... God, how embarrassing it would have been! Or what if I'd shoved it in too far, too fast, and broken her mood? ... That, too, would have been a disaster.

Rome fucked her now, steadily and powerfully, and he rose high on his arms as he rode her so that he could look down at her, could see her heaving tits and the contorted features of her face. She was breathing hard, punctuating each breath with gasps and grunts; an occasional moan came out of her chest to tell her of her fantastic need, and her cunt seemed to become tighter and tighter as they humped toward orgasm. She needed him, needed him badly. She was gripping him with her vaginal sphincter, crushing him as tightly as she was able, and now, as he felt her cunt tremble around his prick, he knew that she was at the brink of climax...

Well, fuck her! Or, rather, cease fucking her, he thought as he pulled his cock from her pussy just in time. "Who's boss now?" he muttered so softly that she couldn't hear him. He watched her writhe angrily, laughed as she cried out in frustration. She'd been on the very edge of ecstasy, and he'd pulled out of her. Rome, not Luline, was king of the mountain now.

"Why?" she asked. "Why, oh God, why?" She made a grab for his prick, presumably in an attempt to shove it back in, but Rome knocked her hand away.

"Not yet," he said, chuckling cruelly. "In a little while." Those had been her words, hadn't they? In a little while. Let the chick suffer a little, let her beg for his cock. If she wanted him, she'd have to plead. He'd show her who was boss.

"Bastard!" she muttered. She glared at him, showed her teeth to him, tried to slap him but was stopped by Rome's hand on her wrist. "You son-of-a-bitch," she hissed. Rome, still in control of the situation, only laughed.

"I'll fuck you," he said, "when I'm good and ready," He laughed again, holding his cock in one hand and waving it at her as if to mock her. "Want to suck it? Want to get it all nice and wet, huh?" He was being vulgar, incredibly vulgar, but what the hell! She was a bitch, wasn't she? The bitch!

Suddenly Luline began to cry. She started with a few tears that trickled out of each eye and glistened on her cheeks, but within seconds her whole body was jerking with powerful sobs, and her hands flew up to cover her face. She didn't say anything, she didn't complain, but Rome knew why she was crying. He wanted to laugh at her, but a sudden twinge of compassion prevented him. He saw her right hand move from her cheek to her belly; when she reached for her cunt, he knew that she was going to try and finish up by herself. "No," he said thickly, seizing her wrist and forcing the hand back to her face. "We'll finish the regular way."

Slowly, less angrily now, Rome moved over her for a second time and let his cock head slide around her thigh and pussy until it settled in the appropriate spot. He thrust forward quickly and decisively; Luline, her entire body trembling, uttered a cry of delight as five inches of meat slid deep inside. Rome fucked steadily, his rhythm unaffected by Luline's writhing or by the jerking spasms of her cunt. She had one climax, then lay gasping while he fucked her until her vaginal sphincter began to shudder once again (Rome could feel it), and finally twitched in a second orgasm. Rome grinned; he was good, and he knew it. And, just as important, he was boss.

"Come," she begged as she nibbled on his shoulder. She was pulling him close to her, and her fingers were running up and down his spine. "Squirt it into my guts!"

That did it. At the word "squirt", Rome slammed forward with all his strength, building up momentum with each thousandth-of-an-inch until his forward progress was suddenly stopped by the rear wall of her cunt. Rome then went into reverse, sliding backward till his cock almost fell out; another thrust, another reverse, and the heat built up in his cock head and in the flesh just below the knob and finally, wonderfully, uncontrollably, the jism came out of his balls and prostate and forced its way through the urethral canal until he was spewing it, firing it in rhythmic bursts, into the slippery recesses of Luline's cunt.

"Christ!" he cried, as if the orgasm were the result of some divine inspiration. "Holy mother of... shit!"

He shot the last gob of the stuff into her, and then he let his body sink onto her belly and rest there until she finally begged him to roll off so that she could get her breath.

"Was it nice?" he asked a few minutes later.

"Yes." She was still breathing hard -- and he was too.

"I'll bet you thought I was a first-timer," he said.

"Yes, I did."

Rome laughed.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." He lay there, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of one hand, not caring that the blanket beneath him was stiffened from a score of ejaculations. He was boss, wasn't he? He was the conqueror, the first-timer who'd made a nympho plead.


He glanced at her. "Yeah?"

"I don't understand you."

"Why not?"

She smiled uncertainly. "I don't understand why you're so cruel."

Rome laughed. It was a long laugh, a loud one that came from deep in his belly.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked.

Rome looked at her for a moment, then stopped laughing and grinned. "I guess it's because..." He paused and thought for a moment. "I guess it's because I don't understand it myself."


Rome answered the phone on the third ring. It was Lisa.

"I've seen Jan," she told him.


"I told her what you said about our relationship."


"Are you listening, Rome?" She paused, then went on. "I told Jan how you didn't think I loved her in anything more than a sisterly sense. She thought you were full of shit."


"Then we made it together, Rome."


"Goddamn it, Rome!"

He laughed. "What's wrong?"

"Well, aren't you going to react?"

"Okay, I'll react. Jan is full of shit, far more so than I am, and you're a fool for letting her talk you into another fucking tongue fest. There... is that enough of a reaction?" He was angry, and his anger carried over the wires.

"You're really mad, aren't you?" she asked, awed by the intensity of his response.

Rome took a deep breath, held it, and managed to calm down. When he spoke again, it was in a normal tone. "No, I'm not angry," he said.

"I suppose you think I'm being hostile, calling you up and confessing everything this way."

Rome shrugged, though he knew she couldn't see the gesture.

"Rome? Are you there?"

"I'm here." He sighed, trying to sound bored with the discussion. "Look, Lisa, what you do with Jan is no skin off my ass."

"Well, I thought you'd be interested."

"I am interested, but only in so far as I'm interested in what becomes of you. I think you're pretty damned foolish to waste your time on Jan."

"I enjoy it, Rome. Jan is very good in bed."

"So am I, damn it," he said.

"I know, but..."

"But what? I told you what your problem was. You're hung up on Jan because you never developed a proper sex life with men. That's all. If you'd been fucked a few times in your youth, and if you'd been lucky enough to enjoy it, you wouldn't be doing the lesbian routine today."

"That's simplistic."

Rome shrugged again. "It's true."



"I slept with Jan because I wanted to."

Rome laughed at the shrillness of her insistence that it was sex, not a desire to refute his theory, that had led her to make it with Jan.

"What's so funny?" Lisa asked suspiciously.

"You're so transparent."

"What do you mean, transparent?"

"Your like a Goddamn window pane. One little squirt of Windex and I can see right through you."

"You're a son-of-a-bitch."

Rome laughed again. "Call me later, when you're in a better mood." He hung up the receiver and went to get another cup of coffee. He laughed yet again as he thought of Lisa's intensity; the girl had to be admired for her persistence in sticking to her dyed-in-the-wool lesbian routine.

The afternoon went smoothly, with Rome spending several hours on bookkeeping and research. He found his thoughts drifting back to Lisa, however, and he couldn't help worrying about his interest in Lisa and her problems. Why was he so fascinated by her anyway? Why couldn't he simply treat her the way he treated every other sex object on the GSI rolls?

That is, why couldn't he push her out of his mind when she wasn't around and concentrate his mental energies on something more useful?

Rome turned on the radio; every song on the air was about love, or so it seemed. Happy songs about love, sad songs about love, indifferent songs about love. Goddamn the whole concept of love anyway! Surely he wasn't in love with Lisa. Yet he couldn't help thinking about her, wishing that she were in his presence at that very moment; he could not help visualizing his cock in her cunt, his hands on her breasts, his lips moving across hers and his teeth being washed by the top of her tongue.

The girl was like a malignant tumor -- she just kept growing on him. Well, there was hope. Maybe she'd let Jan talk her into marriage or something; that way she'd be out of his life forever. In the meantime, Rome had more important things to think about. A marital orientation session, for example. It was scheduled for seven o'clock.

One of Rome's sidelines was providing "marital orientations" for newlyweds. The sessions weren't much different from Rome's usual orgies, except that most of the participants were outright exhibitionists who enjoyed having an audience of nonorgiasts on hand. The audience consisted of the newlyweds, usually one to three couples at a time. They weren't required to join in the activities, though they were welcome to do so if they wished. The primary purpose of the marital orientations was to teach newlyweds the facts of married life while providing an opportunity for the exhibitionists to fuck in front of relative innocents -- i.e., the newlyweds.

Tonight Rome was expecting only one married couple. The husband was an ad space salesman for Skating Rink magazine. Rome remembered him from the initial interview. The man was twenty-three, an ex-athlete from a small college, and a former candidate for the Congregational Ministry. His wife was a blonde who wore her hair cut short and her skirts cut even shorter. The chick had seemed fairly shy during the interview, and her accent had definitely been Midwestern. Tonight's session ought to be an interesting one, if only because the viewers seemed so very straight.

Rome dressed in black slacks and a bronze double-breasted corduroy jacket, then went out for dinner. It was six o'clock, and he had just enough time for an omelet at Mom's Jewish Dairy Snak.

"You can undress or keep your clothes on," Rome said to Ned and Dusti Ermold, the couple who had signed up for the marital orientation. "Some newlyweds like to get in on the action, and some don't. Of course, being nude doesn't mean that you have to take part in the activities."

Ned and Dusti looked at each other; the girl blushed shyly, and she bit her lip when she saw her husband reach for his tie.

"I'm game," Ned said, looking slightly nervous. "But I'm only going to be an observer, I'm afraid." He tossed his tie to the floor, removed his shirt quickly, and pulled his undershirt over his head to reveal an exceptionally hairy chest. When he reached for his belt buckle, Dusti took a deep breath and reached around to unzip her dress.

"I'll help you," Rome said solicitously. He saw that Dusti stiffened up as he helped her with the zipper.

Meanwhile, the other guests were undressing quickly. There were four of them Griswold, a shaggy-haired sculptor; Ruth, his wife; Bettina, a woman slightly older than the others, perhaps thirty-five years of age; then Katz, a literary critic of fifty or so was especially noted for his essays on pre-Miltonian poets. The four exhibitionists were naked by the time Dusti and Ned were halfway undressed, and Rome smile approvingly as he saw that Katz had an uncircumcised cock. Foreskins were a nice touch at such gatherings, since so few men had them these days.

Griswold, who was about twenty-five, came over to Dusti and watched as she nervously stretched her legs out in front of her and shoved her panties over her hips. "Nice," he said with a grin.

Ned frowned. He didn't seem to approve of Griswold's interest his wife, but he didn't say anything.

"... was far more important than the era that came afterward," Katz was saying to Bettina, who looked rather bored. "Milton was the turning point, you see. Without Milton, the world of English literature might be far different from what it became after Paradise Lost."

"Cool it," Rome interrupted. "You're here to fuck, not to discuss your Goddamn English literature."

Katz managed a smile. "Ignorance is bliss, isn't it?" he said sarcastically.

"In literature, yes. In sex, no. Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to meet Ned and Dusti Ermold. I would have introduced you earlier, but I think introductions are more effective when everyone is in the nude. Now, then -- Ned, I want you to stop glaring at Griswold. Gris may be a long hair, but that's no reason to dislike him."

"It's not his hair," Ned muttered. "It's the way he's looking at my wife."

Dusti was blushing a deep shade of red. But she was smiling, and every so often she met Griswold's gaze for a second or two before looking away.

Rome sighed. He would have to take charge. "Let's get down to business. Griswold, I want you and Ruth to begin. Ned, Dusti, we're going to start with fellatio. I trust you know what that is."

"Of course," Ned growled.

"Uh-huh, well, there's more to it than most people think. A good blow job is more than a simple series of sucking motions with the mouth and lungs. Fellatio, at its best, is an extremely complex combination of techniques. Ruth, could you kneel in front of Griswold, please? Thank you. Now, if you'll take his cock in your fingers and direct it toward your mouth there! Perfect. Don't start sucking on it yet. Just follow along as I chat with Ned and Dusti. Got the idea? Fine...!"

"Now, then. Taking the cock into the mouth Ruth? Go ahead. Good! That's just fine. You see, there's a certain way of taking the cock into the oral cavity. Oh, there are several ways, actually, but this is one of the most exciting methods and is the one most useful to beginners. The tongue comes out of the female's open mouth... Could you do it again, Ruth? Fine! Once more, now... and the moist upper surface of the tongue comes up to touch the underside of the male's cock. If the prick is hard, so much the better. You like that, don't you, Gris? Your cock is expanding, all right..."

"To continue, the tongue caresses the underside of the penis momentarily, then serves as a platform to hold the cock in place while the female's jaws open wider and move forward to take the knob. Once again, please. There... note, please, that Ruth takes the cock head into her mouth slowly. Speed is totally out of place in something like this; it may be a value if both partners are exceedingly hot to get on with it, but beginners at fellatio are advised to proceed slowly so that each step can be savored to the utmost. To continue... Ruth? Stop sucking. We're not ready for that yet."

Rome glanced at Ned, whose cock was ramrod straight, its thick six inches or so lined with swollen blue veins. Dusti, sitting next to him, had her legs tucked under her so that her pubic thatch was barely visible. She seemed to be doing her best not to show any reaction, but her nipples were erect. Rome suppressed a chuckle. They were enjoying the show, all right.

"Ruth?" Rome gestured to the long-haired brunette, whose lips were dribbling saliva. "You're going too fast. You know better than that, now... Come on! Stop sucking him." Rome waited. The girl finally obeyed. "Very well. Now, then, Ned and Dusti, I want you to see how Gris reacts when Ruth applies a bit of tongue stroking. Go to it, Ruth -- slowly, now!"

Ruth's tongue, which was hidden in her mouth (the lips of which were closed tightly around Griswold's prick), began to lave the underside of the captive penis. Gris, suddenly stiffened and arched his back slightly. A gasp escaped his lungs, and he placed both hands on Ruth's scalp.

"See?" Rome nodded toward the fellating couple. "A half-inch or so of tongue movement accomplished that. Now, I want you to watch what happens next. Ruth? Give him a little suction. Not too much. Just enough to -- yes, look at that! See how her cheeks pucker, or maybe I should say dimple, as she applies a pound or so of negative pressure? The vacuum is just enough to make Gris stiffen a little more... You like that, don't you?" Rome grinned at the sculptor.

"Tell her... to go... faster!" the man managed to choke out.

"If you insist. Go on, Ruth -- suck him! Hard!" Rome stepped back for no particular reason as Ruth began to draw her lips even more tightly around Griswold's massive cock. He watched approvingly as the woman sucked progressively harder; Gris also approved, obviously, for he was rocking to and fro rhythmically, with his fingers entangled in his wife's hair, wheezing in response to the powerful, expert sucking.

Rome spoke more softly now. "Ruth, why don't you grab his balls?" He turned to Dusti and Ned. "Watch how she grasps his testicles firmly, but not hard enough to hurt him... there! She's squeezing him now, in tempo with her sucking. Pressure, release; pressure, release... She's doing just fine.

"Ruth, move your hand back toward his asshole. Marvelous! Dusti, I want you to try that when you're home with Ned. Let your middle finger creep along the perineum -- that's the ridge between your own anus and vagina -- while the rest of your fingers continue to cradle your husband's balls. Let me see your balls, Ned... They're big, but not so large that Dusti can't manage to cradle them and fondle your asshole at the same time..."

"Ruth? Give him a goose. Perfect! Ned, Dusti, watch how the first joint of the finger sort of disappears into the vestibule of Griswold's anus. She isn't shoving it in, at least not yet; it only looks like that. Gris?" Rome paused. More loudly now, "Gris?"

"Hunnh!" It was difficult for Griswold to speak.

"Open your legs more. I want Ned and Dusti to see what's happening. And turn around more so that your ass is facing us straight on... Just like that. Fine."

"Ned, Dusti, you can see the finger action through his parted thighs. Ruth's fingers are still squeezing Gris' balls while the middle finger is stroking his asshole. Ruth? If you want to, you can apply a little more pressure now. Great! How does that feel, Gris?"

"Ah!" Griswold gasped as the finger attempted to push its way into his anus.

"You like that, don't you?" Rome chuckled. "Now, then, I want you to watch him come, Dusti... Watch how Ruth isn't afraid to swallow his load."

Suddenly, as if on cue, Gris gurgled some unintelligible phrase and thrust his hips forward, simultaneously rising on tiptoes and stiffening his entire body. Ruth laughed from deep in her throat and stabbed a full two inches of finger into Gris' asshole, causing Gris to shudder once more. She began to suck even harder, making loud slurping noises in the saliva glutted recesses of her mouth, and Gris began to moan uncontrollably as he twitched, thrust, gasped, shuddered, and dug his fingernails into his wife's soft scalp...

"Oh shit!" Gris cried at last, almost toppling as the intensity of his body's jerking knocked him off balance. He stiffened once more, held his position momentarily, then uttered a long, shuddering sigh and let his shoulders go limp. "Shit!" he said softly, happily, and then he fell back on his heels as Ruth pulled her finger from his asshole and let his softening cock fall from her mouth.

Rome was smiling. "Show us his come, Ruth," he commanded. Ruth, grinning with the sticky white stuff dripping off her lower lip, opened her mouth and extended her tongue. There was a pool of semen on the tongue, with string-like trails of seed extending forward from the center to mingle with the dribbling saliva. "Wonderful," Rome said enthusiastically. He glanced at Ned and Dusti, who were breathing hard. "Isn't it lovely? I want you to try that when you get home. Or even more, if you want to..." he paused and saw that Dusti looked discomfited. "Well, then, at home." He chuckled softly. The best was yet to come.

The orientation ended two hours later, with Katz pulling his foreskin back and pissing all over Bettina. Dusti gasped, and Ned muttered something about "perversion", but Rome simply smiled. "It's easy to put things down when you haven't tried them," he said. "But don't forget, you could be missing out on a lot. Take pissing as an example... There's nothing more delightful, really, than feeling your sex partner standing over you with a hot stream of urine pouring down on you from above. It may sound unsanitary, but urine is quite germ free when fresh. As long as you take a shower afterward -- and Bettina is going to, I'm sure -- you don't have anything to worry about."

"The very unusualness of the activity, its shock value, so to speak, is what contributes to its effectiveness as an adjunct to conventional lovemaking. And it is rather enjoyable in itself, of course. As I said, there's nothing more delightful than the sensuous feeling of piss on flesh." Ned had risen to his feet and was beginning to dress, his cock was soft now, and there was a dribble of fluid at the tip.

"You're leaving?" Rome asked.

"That's the end of the show, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I thought you might like some private counseling."

Ned looked suspicious. "What does that mean?"

"Well, some couples who come for the orientation like to try what they're learned -- under supervision, that is. With me doing the supervising."

Ned shook his head. "No, thanks."

"It's for your own good."

"You're a fucking voyeur," Ned said without emotion.

"No more than you were a voyeur as you watched my four friends in action."

Dusti licked her lips, then spoke. "Maybe he's right, Ned."


"I mean it. Maybe we should take his advice. He's a professional, isn't he? And it isn't as if he hadn't seen us naked already... Mr. Rome, I'm still kind of confused about some of the positions."

Rome looked at Ned. "Well?"

"How much does it cost?" Ned asked in a tone of resignation.

"Ten dollars per half-hour. You've already paid for the orientation."

"Greedy bastard, aren't you?" Ned was knotting his necktie.

Rome shrugged. "It's no more expensive than a good flying lesson."

Ned didn't say anything, but for the second time that evening he began to undress.

Rome was a night person, so he felt no qualms about going to work once Ned and Dusti had left. Instructing them in the finer points of sex activity had been pleasant; Rome always enjoyed the role of school teacher, and he also liked to watch newlyweds fuck. They invariably seemed nervous about the whole thing, and they always behaved as if someone were standing by with a television camera. Dusti had acted like a teen-age girl going to a gynecologist for the first time. Ned, on the other hand, had seemed worried that he might not be able to get it up. But once they'd begun fucking, with Rome giving them pointers on how to get the most out of each position, they had loosened up. The hour of instruction had ended with the two of them having a simultaneous orgasm, one joined in with by. Rome who, without their noticing, had begun to jerk off.

Now, with everyone gone, Rome turned his mind to another project, an illustrated book on adolescent sexuality. The volume, to be published by the Pubescent Publishing Corp., of Torrance, California, was going to be a pseudoscholarly work sprinkled with photographs of teen-agers fucking. Not to mention sucking, fingering, widdling, nibbling, whipping, lesbianizing, and every other sex act known to the typical oversexed teeny-bopper. The book was going to be a triumph of bad taste; it was also bound to be a best seller.

Rome had prepared quite a few notes for the book, though he hadn't yet written it up in final form. His primary worry right now was lining up suitable models. He could do his own photography -- he had a good studio, and he was quite capable of operating the equipment even if he didn't know much about the final artistic merit -- and he planned to shoot the photos a few days hence. In the meantime, he wanted to study his notes. And he couldn't help thinking about his own adolescence... And he wondered if other people indulged themselves in the past like this... reliving the laugher and the hurts of their own foolish teen years.


She showed up at one P.M. the following day, and she looked troubled.

"What's up?" Rome asked, wondering why she had come.

Lisa tossed her purse on a chair and paced toward the far end of the room. "It's Jan," she said. "I'm confused about our relationship. Much more confused than I was before."

Rome mixed a couple of drinks. "Bloody Mary? They're good at this time of day." He offered one of the glasses to Lisa, who took it without much interest. Rome quaffed his drink while she sipped at hers.

"I love Jan," Lisa said firmly. "I've told you that, of course. It still holds true."

"So why did you come to visit?"

"It's..." She put her glass on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. "It's not that I don't love her," she went on. "I mean, I do love her. We're like... like..." She groped for the right word.

"Sisters?" Rome suggested.

"No!" Lisa shook her head vehemently. "Not like sisters. Like lovers. I mean, we are lovers. Have been, still are. It's just that... well, I've started to think about it, you know, because of what you were saying about how I was deprived of male companionship during my formative years. And I've begun to wonder if maybe you aren't right, at least partly. I do love Jan, you see, but perhaps I have an even greater capacity to love men. A capacity for... for fucking men." She laughed self-consciously. "Or maybe I should say a capacity for letting men fuck me."

"It's possible," Rome said, smiling. "But I can't be sure."


Lisa suddenly looked glum; "Here I am," she said. "An adult female who doesn't know what she wants. I love Jan, and I love having sex with Jan, but I have so little to compare it to where hetero stuff is concerned. I've had you fuck me, and it's been... well, different. But is it good? I mean, is it really enjoying it if you have to combine an orgasm with humiliation? You do humiliate me, Rome. How do I know if I can be fucked by a man and enjoy it without humiliation? Maybe I'm a masochist, heterosexually speaking..." Her voice trailed off as she considered the possibility, and she suddenly took a large swallow of her drink.

"What are you getting at?" Rome asked quietly.

"I think you know." She blushed.

"Don't be coy with me, Lisa."

"I'm not being coy. I'm being..." She giggled nervously. "All right, I'm being coy."

"You want to experiment, is that it?"


"You want me to fuck you again?"

"That's it," she said so softly that it came out almost as a whisper. "Exactly."

Rome chuckled. "But you want it minus the humiliation?"

"Yes. I want to see if I can come when you fuck me nicely."

"What if I can't do it nicely?" he asked. "What if I've got to harass the living shit out of you so I can have an orgasm?"

She looked him in the eye. "Then you can go without an orgasm."

Rome laughed and touched her knee. "I think I like you," he said.

"That's what Jan told me before we fell in love." Lisa sighed, finished her Bloody Mary, and reached for the button of her blue denim shirt.

She looked good with her clothes off. Better than almost any woman he could think of, in fact. There was something deliciously appealing about the olive skin, the taut little muscles, the abundant curls at the junction of her thighs. She looked like a coiled spring that wanted to break free from its mounts. She looked like a... oh, hell, he didn't know what she looked like, he only knew that she looked incredibly sexy, like an irresistible piece of ass. And she was irresistible, to Rome. He could barely wait to slick his cock into her snatch...

"Rome?" Lisa sounded nervous as she folded her clothes neatly and placed them on the coffee table.


"Let's do it in the bedroom, not in here."


Rome followed Lisa to the bedroom, his cock sticking out in front of him in a quivering erection. The organ was twitching slightly; it was a purely involuntary reaction. God, her ass looked great. The small olive-skinned cheeks wiggled and contracted, undulated and softened with every step. Every muscle seemed to be visible through the skin; yet the muscles were rounded, feminine, smooth rather than bulging. The ass looked so eminently fuckable, Rome thought ruefully. Today, alas, he would have to screw her by the conventional route.

"What do we do first?" she asked worriedly as she eyed his cock.

"You can begin by lying down."

"On the bed?"

He laughed. "Where else?" He gave her a slight nudge with his cock, and she crawled onto the bed. "On your back," he said. "Spread your legs so I can see your cunny. There -- hold it just like that." He stared at her, feasted his eyes on her swollen inner lips, the flaps were glistening already, moist with anticipation and desire. So she was a lesbian, eh? Her body said something different. It said that she wanted to be fucked, and not in an hour or two either.

"Rome..." She sounded nervous again.


"Promise me something."

"Sure." He sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch her clit. She jerked slightly, then regained her self-control.

"Promise that you'll be gentle," she begged. "Really. Promise that you won't humiliate me. I know you can make me come by treating me like a whore, but I want to see if you can do it by fucking me with..." She paused.

"Yes?" He toyed with her right inner lip.

"Well, tenderly."

"With love," he said. "That's what you meant to say, isn't it? You want to see if you can come when I fuck you with love."

"Yes," she said meekly.

"You want to see if I'm as desirable as Jan when I fuck you without the sado-maso element."

"Yes." She was trembling slightly; was it fear or a reaction to his finger on her snatch?

"We should be fucking, not talking," he told her.

"I know," she breathed.

Rome chuckled softly and took his hand from her twat, simultaneously bending forward and moving his legs up on the bed so he could stick his face in her pussy and eat her like a banana split...

She tastes like fish. Rome closed his eyes and savored the flavor and aroma. What the hell, he liked ash. Eating Lisa was like dining on red snapper, and that was fine with him. He stuck his tongue into the vestibule of her cunt and wiggled it to and fro. Lisa gasped and mumbled something unintelligible. He did it again. This time she whimpered and ran her fingers through her hair.

I'm going to fuck you, he thought. Nicely, the way you want it. He thought of her asshole, and the anus that seemed so much more desirable than any other asshole that he'd ever fucked. Ah, well, today it would have to be her cunt. And why not? He couldn't complain, not really. Her asshole was nice -- he liked its tightness, its powerful musculature -- but her cunt wasn't anything to bitch about. He wouldn't mind shoving his cock into it. And shove it in he would -- in a few minutes froth now.

"Mmmmmm," she said softly. Rome moved his tongue to her clit. This time she stiffened her thighs and dug her fingernails into his skull. He pursed his lips over the clit and sucked gently; she cried out and tightened her legs about his head. And he was being gentle! What do you know about that, he thought. She might have a climax yet.

"Vvvvvooooo..." Rome pursed his lips more tightly and hummed, forcing the air through the small mouth opening at the same time. The vibration made his lips tingle, and it obviously made Lisa's cunt tingle as well. She let out a little cry and begged him, almost unintelligibly, not to stop. He didn't stop. He increased the volume of the humming, simultaneously moving a finger along her perineum to the hole of her cunt and on inside. He hooked the finger into the opening and applied upward pressure; the combination of pressure from his finger and mouth was almost too much for Lisa, who lifted her ass off the bed and uttered a long, shuddering sigh.

Tenderness? I'll give you tenderness, he thought. He let his thumb move into position in the crack of her ass, and, as he ate her and finger fucked her, he simultaneously began to stroke the dimpled asshole with the ball of his thumb. She likes it, he thought. She likes it a lot! Sure enough, she was pressing her asshole against the thumb, farting lightly as he dug the nail into the dry inner surfaces of her ass cheeks, and she was whimpering meaningless syllables as he increased the loudness of his humming and dug the thumbnail deeper into her ass.

But no, he was going too far. The ass bit would have to be kept under control; he would have to be certain not to stick the thumb into the anus, not to do anything which might excite her through pain or humiliation. Was thumbnail sex tender? Probably not. Rome sighed, pulled his thumb from the crack of her ass, and softened the intensity of his oral-genital vibe job. Tenderness -- that was the ticket. Gentleness was the name of the game.

"Do it," she whispered suddenly. "Now!" she begged.

"Fuck you?" He pulled his mouth from her crotch and stared up at her face, seeing the upper half of her body in distortion as if gazing through a wide-angle lens. Her head was half-hidden by her heaving tits, and her enormous pubic thatch rose up like a heavily timbered mountain.

"Yes," she begged. "Now!"

Rome smiled. He was tempted to laugh, but he resisted the urge. No, she might hear him and get the wrong idea. She wanted love, right? He'd give her love, then, or a reasonable facsimile thereof.

"All right," he said quickly. "I'm going to put it in you now, Lisa. I want you to enjoy it. Here..." He knelt between her thighs with his cock head grazing the slippery vestibule of her pussy. "I'm going to slide it in, and I want you to count out the inches." He said it affectionately so she wouldn't think he was giving her the humiliation routine.

"One..." She giggled as an inch or so of sock went in, "Two?" She wasn't sure, he could tell by her tone. "Three... four?" She giggled again. "Five inches? Oh, God, Rome, I can't take any more..."

But she did take more -- about two inches more to be exact. She swallowed what seemed like an endless quantity of cock, and he felt her slick and swollen cunt lips pressing against his pubic hair. Yes, she'd swallowed all of him, every last inch. Christ, he couldn't believe it. Her cunt was tight, muscle-bound, but, in terms of depth it seemed like a bottomless pit.

"I'm going to start moving now," he told her. "I'll begin slowly. Tell me if it isn't fast enough." He breathed deeply, braced his arms against the bed and began a steady thrusting rhythm. "I'll speed up as you become more interested..." His voice trailed off as he shut his eyes and concentrated on the delightful sensations that were building up in his cock.

Forward. Forward, yes, into the bottomless pit. Backward. Not a retreat, but a recoil -- a reaction to the powerful delights of each, forward thrust. Forward, backward; forward, backward; one, two; three, four; count it out, hup two three four, count each movement, breathe between thrusts, establish a carefully worked-out rhythm involving fucking, breathing, heartbeat, stiffening of the gluteal muscles, twitching of the cock...

Rome looked down at Lisa. He saw that the girl's mouth was quivering. What the fuck? He moved a little faster. Now he noticed a drop of moisture at the corner of her left eye. Was she crying? He rotated his hips slightly, hoping the extra fillip would turn her on. Hey, what's going on? Her eyes opened for the briefest of milliseconds, just long enough to let a few tears trickle out, and then the lids closed tightly while Rome muttered silent words of disbelief and moved his cock faster in her cunt, hoping she'd react to the sensations which, presumably, were flowing through her loins...

Shit, she was slowing down. Now she was stopping completely, just lying there with her ass on the bed. Her cunt muscles were tight, still; yet they didn't seem quite as taut as they had been a minute before and now she was loosening the sphincter, letting the pussy go limp as if she'd given up completely.

What's wrong? he thought. Finally, getting up the energy to speak, he said it out loud, "What's wrong?" He stared down at Lisa, his cock still pumping away in her pussy, and he thought he saw a flicker of her eyelids. Look at me, he thought. Tell me what the fuck's going on! But she didn't do anything of the kind. She wouldn't, or perhaps she couldn't open her eyes and meet his gaze. Something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what, and she didn't seem about to discuss it with him.

"Come on," he groaned at last. "God, what the hell is the matter?" He stiffened his ass and thrust his cock into her -- hard, hoping to jar her out of her depression. But no, she just lay there, limper than ever.

"I love you," he gasped. He didn't mean it, or at least he thought he didn't mean it, but he hoped it might work, "I love you!" he groaned. "More than Jan does!" Still no reaction. Holy fucking shit!

He looked down at her. The tears were oozing from her closed eyelids. Her mouth was open now -- an inch or so, the teeth glistening with spittle, her Adam's Apple jerking in silent sobs. "Come on," he begged, genuinely wanting her to enjoy it. "Please," he pleaded, but to no avail.

Goddamn it. He felt sorry for her; yet at the same time he felt angry because of the way she'd fucked both of them out of pleasure. He hadn't felt like humiliating her, and he didn't want to do it now, but what the hell was he supposed to do? He had to come; there was no alternative to squirting his seed into her guts.

"I'm going to come," he choked out at last. "Ready or not, here I come." He stiffened his back, took a deep gulping breath, gritted his teeth, and prepared for the inevitable. There was a pressure, a surge of warmth, and then...

"Sheeeyit...!" It was a curse, an orgasmic groan of anger and disgust. Rome felt ashamed of himself, though he knew that what had happened wasn't his fault. He had tried, hadn't he? He plugged away at her, shot his gobs of semen into her cunt, yet each spurt of jism seemed less pleasurable than the one before it.

"Are you finished?" she asked softly flatly, as if she were afraid to show any emotion.

Rome stopped his thrusting and pulled out, his cock still half-hard with tension. "Yes," he replied.

"I'm sorry," she said, a tremor creeping into her voice.


"I don't know what went wrong."

Neither do I, he thought.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him. She seemed afraid. "I'm sorry," she said again, this time a little more forcefully.

"So am I," he said without expression.

"It wasn't good for you, was it?"

"Not especially."

"Oh, God...!" She turned her head to one side and began to sob more noisily.

"Don't cry," he told her. "I can't stand to hear people crying..." Shit, he thought, climbing off her and rolling onto his back. Well, you had your good days and you had your bad days. This had been a bad day -- no doubt about that.


The models were on hand for the big photo shooting, and Rome was glad that he'd be getting that chore out of the way at last. Fortunately, the agency had sent him some attractive models. They looked clean-cut, normal, self-confident; in short, they looked like everybody's favorite team of all-American girls and boys. Well, with a few hippie overtones, perhaps. They were almost perfect for a book on adolescent sexuality, in any case, and well worth the fifty bucks each that Rome had paid for their services.

There was something cool, almost jaded, about the oldest girl in the bunch. Her name was Martha, and she had big tits. "The agency said there was going to be some lesbian stuff," she said calmly. "I told them I'd expect an extra fifteen dollars if I had to eat any of the other girls."

Rome frowned. "The agreement was for fifty bucks each, no conditions or questions asked."

"I don't know," she said. "I always get paid extra for lesbian stuff."

Rome shrugged. "Trust me. I'll take it up with the agency in the morning."

"Why should I trust you?"

He laughed. "Good point. All right, sixty-five bucks for everyone. For that I'll expect all of you to do a damn good job."

Mike, a seventeen-year-old boy with blond hair of medium length, asked whether they should undress. Rome nodded, and the boy stripped quickly. Rome smiled appreciatively when he saw that the boy had a cock of average size. He didn't want any eleven-inches today; the book was supposed to be convincing. Like a genuine documentary. Big cocks, size-E boobies, and whatnot were the exact opposite of what he needed for the book.

"I didn't get your name," Rome saw as he turned to face a redhead of about fifteen. She was lean, almost skinny, and her freckles went nicely with her carrot-colored hair.

"Lillian," she said simply.

"Lillian what?"

"Just Lillian." She smiled. "Isn't that enough?"

There was another boy, a junior in high school named Edgar Schmutz. He was dark, olive-toned, and very sure of himself. He looked like the typical Class President type. He was just fine.

"And you?" Rome eyed a pretty brunette, a girl of sixteen or so with a slender figure and a worried-looking face. Her hair was tied in long braids... Did she always wear it that way, or was it braided for a sort of Lolita effect? The girl smiled nervously, then looked away. "Well?" Rome was becoming impatient.

"I'm Tess," she said. Tess! What a great name! Shades of Thomas Hardy, Rome thought.

"You seem nervous," he told her matter-of-factly.

She blushed. "I guess I am."


"I've..." She fidgeted. "I haven't done anything like this before," she confessed.

Rome felt a momentary surge of anger -- was the agency trying to fuck him up, or what? But the sudden look of fear on the girl's face made his heart melt. "Look," he said. "There's nothing to worry about." God, he hoped she wasn't a virgin. "You aren't cherry, are you?"

She blushed. "No."

"Good." Rome was relieved. "I don't want you to be nervous. You don't have to do anything here that you wouldn't do in real life. Except for a bit of..." he grinned. "Come to think of it, you may learn a few things today. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Lesbianism, blow jobs, rectal intercourse... I may ask you to try all of those. Are you game?"

"Yes," she said with a barely audible voice.

"Fine. Take your places, everyone. Martha? You've got nice tits. Stand in front of Mike and let him play with them for a while. I want those nipples nice and hard. Edgar? Stand behind Lillian with your cock pressed against her ass. Tess? Over there with... hell, you don't have a partner." He grinned. "Well, just sort of stand around and we'll see where we can work you in. Places, everyone. Start feeling each other up. Tess, you can masturbate a little -- finger on clit, that's right. Okay, gang. The shooting begins right... NOW!"

Rome began snapping pictures rapidly with one of several Hasselblad cameras. The camera had a 70-mm film magazine which allowed him to take several dozen photos without changing rolls. He moved close to Martha and got a good shot of Mike's hands on her swollen breasts; next he dropped to his knees in front of Lillian and gave directions to Edgar as he focused for a shot of the boy's prick sliding through the redhead's thighs to rest in her shaven snatch. "You look great, Lillian," he said enthusiastically. "Just like a wholesome, nervous, Midwestern virgin." He got a great shot of her parted pussy lips then moved to one side to get a profile of Edgar's stiff cock as the boy pulled back far enough to reveal several inches of meat between his groin and Lillian's light-pressed thighs.

"Tess." He said the name simply, quietly, as he approached the girl, who was jerking off self-consciously and without much pleasure. "Take it easy," he told her. "Steady with that hand. Don't pull at yourself... Hell, haven't you played with yourself before?" He shook his head, smiling indulgently. "Here let me show you..." Rome took her fingers in his own and guided the middle fingertip to her clit. "Open your thighs a little more," he suggested. "Fine. Now, move your finger up and down like this..." He guided it in a gentle, stroking motion, "And keep it up while I snap a few pictures." Rome dropped to his knees and aimed the lens at her crotch. "Okay, now. Stick the index and middle fingers of your other hand -- your left hand; this time -- into your cunt while you continue to stroke your clitoris. Don't balk, damn it. Do it! Ah, that's right. You're doing just fine. It's starting to glisten a little; that's a good sign. Keep it up now. Legs a little wider so I can get a good shot..." He snapped three pictures of her self-administered finger fucking, then patted her on the thigh and stepped back to direct the next scene.

"Martha? Go over to Lillian. Lillian? I want you to lie on the floor with your legs well apart and your knees up high. Martha, get down on all fours and stick your face into her pussy... Hurry up, Goddamn it, you got your sixty-five dollars... Lillian? Try to look more interested. There, that's fine. Mike? Kneel over Lillian. Lillian, suck on his balls. Harder. That's better... Mike, try to look more excited. I want to see a good hard-on. Reach down and grasp your cock with your right hand... Perfect. Start jerking off now; I want to get a couple of pictures when you squirt your load all over Lillian's chest and belly and Martha too; maybe you could get some of it on her hair..."

The threesome on the floor became more and more excited as the scene progressed. Good, Rome thought as he shot picture after picture. He glanced at Edgar, who was standing about six feet from Tess, his cock standing in as firm a stiff-on as any pornographer could desire. Tess was eyeing the cock nervously as if she knew that she might be called upon to take it into her snatch at any moment. Well, he wouldn't ask that of her -- not yet. But he did want a few good blow-job shots.

"Tess." He spoke sharply.

"Yes!" she asked nervously, averting her gaze from the cock.

"I want you to give Edgar a few good laps," Rome said calmly, trying not to make the girl any more nervous than she was already.

"Laps?" She seemed confused.

"With your tongue. You know -- kneel in front of him, grasp the cock in your right hand, and let the tip of your tongue play along with the underside of Edgar's hard-on. You don't have to take it into your mouth -- not this time anyway. Just lick it a little; get it nice and shiny so I can take a few photos before we move on to other things."

Tess awkwardly moved toward Edgar, afraid to look him in the eye. She took a deep breath, dropped to her knees, and reached upward with a trembling hand. There was a brief pause, and then she gingerly seized the base of Edgar's prick in three fingers.

"Okay," she said.

Rome glanced at Martha and Lillian, who had shifted positions and were preparing for a sixty-nine scene while Mike apparently got ready to fuck one of them from behind. "Hurry," he said to Tess. "Start licking him. I want to get this over with -- fast!"

Nervously, almost fearfully, Tess did as she was told. She opened her mouth, licked her lips, then extended her tongue so that its tip barely grazed the cleft on the underside of Edgar's swollen cock head. Edgar closed his eyes and sighed; Rome, his own cock stiff and dribbling, took pictures as rapidly as he could. He nodded approvingly as Tess lapped her way along the half-foot or so of Edgar's prick; the hard flesh was glistening now, shining with spittle and premature oozings of come. "Perfect," Rome said softly, rapidly working the shutter release. He moved closer to the twosome and lay an the floor so that the lens was aimed directly at the gap between Tess' thighs. "Tess? I want you to spread your legs. Yes, your knees. Open them wider so I can get a few shots of your beaver while you lick Edgar -- There! That's fine. It's nice and shiny, just the way my readers are going to like it... You've got nice love lips, has anyone ever told you that? Great flaps. Symmetrical as hell, and generously proportioned..."

Rome could see that Mike was about to stick his cock through Martha's legs as the two girls, as well as Mike, lay on their sides. He got to his feet and took a few more photos of Tess' face with her tongue slobbering saliva onto Edgar's cock head; he then patted her, told her that she could stop if it was all right with Edgar, and moved to photograph the guy and two girls who were humping and licking a few feet away. He got a great shot of Mike's prick penetrating Martha's cunt (he had to ask her to lift one leg so he could get the photograph), and then he noticed that Tess had abandoned her cock licking and was wiping her mouth on her right forearm as Edgar, cursing, proceeded to jerk off. He'd have to have a talk with her later -- for the moment, however, he was busy. "Lillian? Open your legs a little more so I can get a better shot while Martha sticks two fingers up your crack..."

"I'm a runaway," the girl confessed, as the three other models were putting their clothes on. She was holding her panties in both hands, but for some reason she seemed shy about pulling them on with Rome talking to her.

"How old are you?"


"I want to know exactly how old you are," Rome said. "No bullshit."

"Sixteen," she repeated.

He thought about it. "I could get in a lot of trouble for this if you should have second thoughts about being in the book. What I'm doing is illegal enough as it is... If you should go back to your parents and tell them what you were up to in New York, you could get me in real trouble."

The girl's eyes flashed angrily. "I wouldn't do that," she said sharply.

"How do I know you won't?"

"I'm not that kind of girl."

Rome shrugged. "Never mind. It's academic anyway. I've already committed myself, and so have you. Tell me, how did you get into this racket? You don't seem too happy with the whole scene."

"I don't like it," she said with a blush.

"I figured as much. So why are you doing it? Why aren't you clerking in the A&P?"

She looked him in the eye. "I need money. Not for I drugs or anything like that; don't get the wrong idea. I just need money, that's all. Money is freedom. The freedom to get out of the bind I'm in. Out of the crash pads, the Lower East Side hippie shelters with their dope addicts and all of that." She seemed to be challenging him. "Don't you approve?"

"Sure, I approve," he laughed. "If I were a prude, I wouldn't be in the business. It's just that you seemed a bit out of place. I saw the look on your face when I asked you to lick Edgar's cock. You looked like you were about to throw up."

"It's not that sex turns me off," she said softly.

"No? Then why did you look so Goddamn disgusted?"

"I don't like Edgar. And I don't like doing it for... for money. Even though I have to, even though I know it's an easy way to get bread."

"Where do you live?" he asked.

"Like I said. Places where drug freaks will take anyone in. I meet people. Some of the other models let me stay with them, and I meet their friends and friends of friends. One night here, one night there I sleep all over."

"And you fuck all over too?"

She bridled. "Look, these people aren't renting out hotel rooms. I can't help it if they make me give them sex."

"No, I guess not." Rome got out his checkbook and started writing a check to the agency. Martha came over to watch. "I'm sending this to the agency," Rome said. "They'll pay you. You know how it works."

Martha frowned. "Your agreement with them was for fifty bucks a head, right?"


"And your agreement with us was for sixty-five."

"That's right."

Martha smiled professionally. "All right. Why don't you give the agency two hundred and pay the other sixty to us? Fifteen bucks to each of us, direct?" She stared at him. He stared back. He felt like chuckling; the girl was a pro. "Fifteen each," she repeated.

"How about the agency?"

"You're giving them two hundred. You're meeting your obligation to them."

Rome laughed. "You win," he said. He wrote a check for two hundred to the agency, then prepared four checks for fifteen each, leaving the payee lines blank. Martha took three of the fifteen-dollar checks and distributed them among herself, Lillian and Mike. Rome handed the other fifteen dollar check to Tess, who accepted it gratefully. "I'll mail this to the agency," he said, holding up the check for two hundred. "Not a word to them about our little bonus, right?"

"Not a word," Martha said with a nod.

"You can go now," Rome told them. He took the still naked Tess by the arm and spoke to her softly. "Not you, though. I'd like you to stick around."

The girl stayed, though she looked at him suspiciously as he escorted the others to the door. When they were alone, she spoke calmly, almost with boredom, as if she had been through this scene many times before. "Are you offering me a place for the night?" she asked. "And I suppose you want the usual favors?"

"Not necessarily." He grinned. "Why? Do you intend to offer them?"

She shook her head. "Usually I don't offer anything. I just let my hosts take what they want. I'm pretty passive about it, you might say."

"I see." Rome let his right hand grate one of her nipples; the pink crown of flesh turned hard. "Aroused?" he asked, looking at the nipple.

"No. Cold."

"It must be seventy-five in here. I turned the thermostat up since you'd all be posing in the nude."

"I get chilled very easily," she said.

"Uh-huh. Well, look... I've got some chores to do. Like develop these negatives, for example. Why don't you get dressed? Or wear a bathrobe if you'd like? I'll get you one and you can make yourself comfortable and just sort of make the rounds of the apartment while I'm working? Later on I'll sit down with you and we can have a heart-to-heart talk."

She laughed nervously. "You're very self-assured, aren't you?"

"I have reason to be."

She laughed again and followed him into a spare room where he opened a closet and took out a mini-length bathrobe of gold satin. "Take this," Rome said, handing it to her. She put it on, tied it, and stood there silently as he quickly strode out of the room.

The photos were excellent; Rome's faith in his own abilities as a photographer was sustained. He examined the negatives carefully, them hung them up to dry. He'd make some contact sheets later on to get a better idea of the photos' suitability for reproduction, but he was confident that they'd do just fine. The models looked genuinely interested in what they were doing so far as Rome could tell from the wet negatives, and the images looked well-focused and sharp.

Most of the negs seemed just about right in terms of exposure too. All in all, it had been a good day so far. Rome locked the darkroom door (he was very careful about his works in progress) and looked for Tess. He found her in the library, where she was sitting at his desk with a number of files and photographs spread out in front of her.

"You really are making yourself at home, aren't you?" he said in a tone of mild disapproval.

The girl blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I didn't know I wasn't supposed to open the drawers and..."

"It's all right."

"I don't understand all this," she confessed, giving him a quizzical glance. "I mean, all these files and the pictures..."

He laughed. "Welcome to the Group for Sensual Involvement," he said.


"I run an organization dedicated to the proposition that there's nothing better than a good fuck. Unless it's a good fuck with a good blow job, foot fetish, whip fest, lesbian clit suck, or whatever attached." He moved closer to her and saw that she was staring at a photo of a black man sticking his cock up a middle-aged white woman's ass. "Therapy," he explained. "That woman, Mrs. Fenster, had a thing about black males. She still does. Only now she can indulge her hangup without risk of public embarrassment, thanks to the services offered by GSI."

"Oh." The girl reached into the heap of material and pulled out a picture of an elderly man fucking a St. Bernard. "And how about this? Isn't this kind of thing pretty hard on the dog?" She frowned. "And it's so disgusting!"

"Repulsiveness is in the eye of the beholder. And, no, it wasn't hard on the dog in that particular instance. The animal, a female, is owned by a breeder in Fort Lee, New Jersey, and she's been specially trained for sex." He thought about it for a moment. "Sex with humans, that is. The breeder tells me she won't get near another dog."

"God! And this picture, this one where the blonde is eating that... that shit! Is it really something that happened here? Or..."

"It happened."

"But why?"

"Some people like that sort of thing."

"Do you?" she asked worriedly.

"Hell, no."

She sighed in relief. "Thank God."

"If you don't mind, Tess, I'd like to keep my files confidential."

"You mean..."

"I mean that I'm going to put that material away and that I don't want you to get into it again."

"I'm sorry," she said, flushing in embarrassment. "I don't want you to think I'm a spy."

"I don't think you're a spy. I just think my patients are entitled to a little privacy."

"Your patients? Are you a psychiatrist?"


"Then what are you?"

He laughed. "A stud," he said. "A guru, a counselor, an advisor, an entrepreneur and a stud."

The girl didn't say anything while Rome went to work putting the photos and file folders back where they belonged.

"Just why did you ask me to stay?" Tess asked as they finished dinner which Rome had ordered up from a steak house a few blocks away.

"Charity," he replied. "An innate tendency to do the right thing."

"Come on now. You just want to fuck me, don't you?"

He laughed, but didn't reply.

"Look, I don't mind, if that's what's bothering you."

"Nothing is bothering me, Tess."

"I won't do anything to make it nicer for you -- like I said, I'm the passive type -- but I won't stop you from doing anything you want."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

She stared at him, open mouthed. "You mean that you don't want... to use me?"

"I didn't say that."


"Sure, I'd like to fuck you, he told her. But not on those terms. I don't want to fuck you unless I think you'll enjoy it."

"Sex isn't my thing," she said.

"Come on. I saw you glistening when you were jerking off for the camera... And your slit looked pretty good when you were licking Edgar, too."

She blushed. "That's different."

"How so?"

"I didn't feel that I was being used."

"What do you mean? I was paying you sixty-five bucks, wasn't I? Isn't that using a girl?"

"Well, you weren't trying to make love to me."

He sighed. "What if I charge you six bucks to stay the night here? Will that keep you from feeling used?"

"Do you mean it?" She jumped up and disappeared into the living room, returning with her purse. She opened the handbag, got out a wallet, and removed two bills -- a five and a one.

"Here you are," she said. "SIX bucks."

He took it grinning. "I didn't think you would."

"I hate being used," she said, laughing. She seemed relaxed now, ready to accept whatever might come.

"What are we going to do now? Make love?"

"If you like."

"I'd like."

They went into the bedroom together, with Rome unbuttoning his shirt on the way.

"Hey!" Rome, who was kneeling between Tess' thighs as she reclined on the bed, thought of some thing.


"You're supposed to be a beaver model, right?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Yet you said -- and I remember it distinctly -- you said you hadn't done anything like this before. Like what you and the rest were doing this morning, that is."

"Well, I..."

"How can you be a model if you've never let a guy fuck you on film?"

She blushed. "Well, I'm a model, but..." She stopped.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"I model mostly in figure studios. You know, where men pay so much a half-hour to take pictures of you in the nude. There isn't any sex, not really."

"Then you've never done any hard-core work until today?"

"Just a few split beaver things. You know, close-ups of my genitals without my face showing."

Rome laughed. "You're sure you aren't cherry?"

She bristled. "Look at my crotch if you're so sure I'm a virgin."

"Maybe you lost it playing tennis."

She suddenly giggled, and with that Rome began to finger her cunt as he took her clit in his lips and moistened its sensitive tip with his tongue.

Ah, sweet teenie! You couldn't beat an adolescent snatch; at least, that's what Rome firmly believed. There was something so firm about a sphincter that hadn't been fucked a thousand times, something so appealing about pubic hair that hadn't been around long enough to turn thick and wiry with age. This hair was young, fresh, still mixed with a quantity of puppy down; the girl was sixteen, but she hadn't yet turned into a full-blown woman, and Rome felt like a dirty old man -- a very pleased dirty old man -- as he tongued her clit until she tittered happily and followed it up by sliding the tongue tip into her juicy, tight-lipped hole.

So the girl hadn't had much experience... Well, that was fine and dandy. He was willing to bet that she'd never licked a cock before doing it with Edgar, and thus it was probable that she'd never taken a good four or five inches of penis into her tasty little mouth. There was a first time for everything, however; that first time -- the first time she made a stab at cocksucking, that is -- would occur very shortly. With Rome providing the guidance, of course.

"Tess?" He spoke softly, between licks of her clit and crack.


"Tell me if you're enjoying this."

She giggled. "Oh, yes."

"You don't feel used?"

"God, no."

"Great." He took her left inner lip in his teeth and yanked on it gently. He heard her gasp. Next, he stuck a finger into her vaginal opening as he tugged on the other labe. She gasped again. Moving quickly, Rome pressed his thumb against her clit, still finger fucking her and holding her flap in his teeth, and with his other hand he stroked the perineal ridge slowly, provocatively, caressing the entire length of it from cunt to asshole. Tess lifted her bottom from the bed when he got his fingers into her anal crack; there was a momentary stiffening of her body as he prodded the asshole itself -- was it fear? Arousal? But she relaxed again and began to move her hips in a circular motion as Rome continued his expert routine.

She tasted delightful. It was like being young again. He loved feeling her fingernails in his scalp as he tongued her black-haired cunt, loved tasting her dribbling juices as he sucked on her oversized clit. No, he couldn't complain. Tess, he repeated silently, again and again, as he fingered and licked the girl on the bed. And to think that she'd be sucking him soon...

She was coming. He had been at it for no more than two or three minutes, and already she was coming! Rome braced himself for the crushing grip of her thighs; sure enough, her legs clasped his head tightly as the pressure built up in her loins, and he heard her begin to whimper words of delight as she pressed her cunt harder, tighter, more quiveringly against his mouth. He licked, lapped, slurped, spat, tongued; his fingers dug deep into her ass and even deeper into her pussy as he felt her moving closer and closer to her peak...

"Unnnh!" It was Tess, crying out as the orgasm took hold of her. She shook, shuddered, jerked; Rome had to gasp for breath as she virtually swallowed his mouth with her cunt, the lips of which were spread wide so that the juice poured out of the hole and onto his tongue, with the muscular opening of the love hole contracting rhythmically, powerfully, twitching with each burst of sensation that shot through her loins...

He had to fuck her. He couldn't wait another second. Pulling away as hard as he could, he managed to disengage his head from the trap of her trembling thighs. He moved into a fucking position, holding her knees apart with his hands as he went. Working quickly, he guided his cock head into the still quivering lips of her pussy. A quick intake of breath, a gathering up of energy, and then -- into the crack! He stabbed deep into her cunt in a single motion, forced his cock into the juicy hole until he could feel the tip of it slamming against the back wall. All right then; there was no more distance to go so he retreated and tried it again, thrusting with even more power this time. Back, then forward, back again, into the hole again, fucking, fucking, screwing her with the need of a madman.

"Aaahhhh...!" The climax came quickly, almost too rapidly for Rome's taste. He felt the stuff pour out of his cock without much jerking; it was as if his gonads had surrendered prematurely, as if they'd agreed to give up their load without a fight -- God! It was over. Already. Not that he was complaining. It had occurred to quickly to satisfy him completely, but it gave him a good temporary respite from his need. He'd get his rocks off again soon enough, and better, once she sucked his prick.

"Rome?" The girl was breathing hard.


"I didn't give you permission," she said. Rome looked at her incredulously, and then he laughed long and loudly till the tears came and moistened the upper reaches of his cheeks.

Later, when both had recovered from the experience, Rome told her what he wanted. "I don't want to put this in away that will offend you," he said, trying to be kind, "but I'd like you..."


"Fellatio. That's the word."

"Oh." Tess didn't look very happy about it. "You licked Edgar's cock, didn't you? And you didn't like him." Rome tried to sound calm, logical. "If you like me enough to let me fuck you, surely you can suck mine."

The girl thought about it, sighed, and -- motioned for him to lie down on the bed. "Am I supposed to kneel over you, or what?"

"That's as good a way as any."

"And I'm supposed to lick it first, or just take it into my mouth right away even though it isn't hard..."

"Lick it first."

She shrugged, resigned to doing what he asked. "Okay." She straddled his legs, bent over, took his flaccid cock in her right hand and began to lick it. She tongued it slowly, cautiously, somehow afraid to lick him as well as she'd done it to Edgar.

"Faster," he told her. "And try to show a little more enthusiasm." He watched her as she bent a little closer and began to slather a greater quantity of saliva on the cock head, using her tongue as a spatula. He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. It felt just fine. Marvelous, in fact. She was licking him as well as he could ask any woman to do it. Christ, the girl had a natural talent! Now, if only she could be as good at sucking him after his entire cock slid into her mouth...

"Suck it," he muttered at last. Then, with more intensity, "Put it in your mouth!" Rome held his breath as he felt the girl's tongue slide along the stiff cock's underside to rest two-thirds of the way down the shaft while her lips and teeth made themselves comfortable around the organ. He felt her incisors press lightly on the swollen flesh, then the lips, wet and warm, so wonderfully complementary to her tongue. He felt her hot breath on his cock head, the air coming from the back of her mouth; and then, suddenly, catching him by surprise, there was a surge of pressure as she tightened her lips around the cock and sucked hard, so hard that he literally cried out with delight.

"That's the way," he managed to tell her as she began rhythmic sucking. Jesus, she's fantastic! he thought, trying to keep a fart from escaping his anal sphincter. His guts were quivering, trembling in anticipation of what the blow job was gradually building up to. "Jesus..." He savored the ecstasy of it all. "Harder, now...!" She obeyed, and he stiffened happily.

When he came, it was five times more powerful than before. He bucked like a horse in a rodeo, almost knocking the girl's face from his crotch. He seized her by the hair, pulled her closer to his groin, begged her to suck even harder. He gasped with each spurt of semen, fell back on the bed between spasms. When it was over, he pleaded for her to keep his cock in her mouth; he wanted her to comfort his softening cock, to let his jism mingle with the juices of her mouth.

"Thanks," he said finally. He let her go to the bathroom to rinse her mouth, and while she was gone he fell into a deep, satisfying sleep.


Rome slept till ten in the morning, and when he awoke be found Tess lying beside him, her naked body concealed from the waist down by the rumpled sheet. Rome lifted the sheet gingerly and stared at her hair-strewn mons; there was something inexplicably lovely about the curve of a woman's lower belly, the way the hair grew in a thin line from the navel and suddenly blossomed into triangular fullness where the abdomen merged with the pubic mound. Rome reached out and touched the girl's fur. She didn't react. He moved a finger downward, cautiously sliding it between her thighs and into the crack of her cunt. The slit felt moist, almost juicy. Rome's cock tingled. He was about to proceed still further when the phone rang. Tess slept on while Rome went to the bathroom to take the call.

"Hello?" He spoke guardedly. You never knew who might be calling.

"It's me -- Lisa. Look, can I come over?"

Rome frowned. "Well, I..." He paused. "I've got a house guest," he explained lamely.

There was a brief silence at the other end of the line; it was followed by a nervous laugh. "I get it. You've got a girl in there with you, right? Okay, okay, I won't bother you. If I'm not good enough for you..." Her voice trailed off.

"Christ!" Rome muttered. What was he to say? "Alright, I do have a girl in the apartment. But it isn't because you aren't good enough for me, it's because she didn't have a place to stay. And yes, we did fuck." He stopped, wondering how she'd react to that bit of information.

"I still want to come over," Lisa told him. Her voice took on a pleading quality as she continued, "I've got to see you, damn it!"

"Be here at twelve. We'll have lunch."

"We who?"

He laughed. "The three of us."

"Oh," She sounded disappointed.

"What do you want me to do, turn my house guest out? Throw her out on the street?"

"No," she said resentfully.

"Twelve, then."


Rome shrugged, hung up the receiver, and returned to the bedroom. Tess was waiting for him, awake and seemingly more naked than ever. Her legs were parted so that he could see her cunt lips, and there was a glistening hint of moisture on the edges of the swelling crack.

"Got something in mind?" Rome was grinning; he was still nude, and his cock was already growing hard.


"Want to give me a blow job?"

"Not this morning," she said, shaking her head.

"What do you want then?" His cock twitched; he licked his lips as he felt the stiff flesh become literally hot with desire.

"I thought we could make love."

"Any particular position?"

She grinned. "You're the boss."

Rome crawled onto the bed and lowered his face to her pussy. He sought out her clit, finally moistening its tiny knob with his tongue. Tess gasped and jabbed her fingernails into his temples. Rome kept it up, slathering spittle on her clit and depositing a slick trail of the stuff in her crack and on down to her asshole.

"Jesus!" she whispered excitedly.

Rome chuckled and stuck his tongue deep into the fissure, savoring the taste and pressing his stiff cock against the smooth satin sheet.

He was in her five minutes, and out again in fifteen.

Lisa arrived early, at seven minutes to twelve. Rome invited her in and gave her a Bloody Mary.

"You could use one, from the look of you," he said only half-jokingly; then he introduced her to Tess, who seemed no more eager to meet Lisa than Lisa was to meet Tess.

"You two should get along famously," Rome said, wondering which girl would try the lady wrestler bit first.

"I was hoping for a private talk," Lisa said quietly.

"Sorry." He shock his head firmly. "This is a group therapy outfit, remember? If you've got something to get off your chest, you'll have to do it in company."

Rome led the two girls into the kitchen. Tess offered to do the cooking, but he told her to sit down. Working quickly, he prepared three Spanish omelets and produced French bread and white wine. The three of them ate with Rome leading off the conversation.

"What's the problem?" he asked Lisa, noting that she seemed a bit paler than usual.

"It's the same thing as always. You know." She seemed reluctant to talk in front of Tess.

"Have you seen Jan lately?"


"Then why the sudden need to come over here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just felt lonely."

"Why haven't you seen Jan?"

"She's been... busy."

Rome toyed with a piece of French bread. "Busy in what way?"

"I don't know. She didn't explain."

"And you think it's another girl?"

Lisa started. "God, what an awful thing to say."

"Let's not fuck around, Lisa. You're obviously worried about Jan's activities... Aren't you?"

"I..." Lisa bit her lip, then tried to look Rome in the eye. "Say it," she insisted.

"All right. Jan is screwing around on the side. Or licking around, to be more precise." He laughed. "And you're jealous."

She shook her head. "Not jealous. Afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"I'm afraid to lose a friend. I..." She took a healthy slug of wine. "I don't have many friends, Rome."

"I see."

There were a few moments of silence while everyone tried to think of something to say. Finally Rome turned to Tess; who hadn't said anything at all.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"About what?"

He nodded toward Lisa. "Does she strike you as the lesbian type?"

Lisa flushed as Tess studied her carefully.

"I can't tell by looking at her," Tess said at last. "Hell, what do I know about lesbians?"

Rome laughed. "Okay. We've settled one thing, at least... Lisa, you don't look like a dyke. Not to the average person in any case. And to tell you the truth, I don't think you're any more upset about Jan's stepping out on you than you are about mine. Take Tess here... you seemed rather put off when you learned that I had a house guest. Right?"

"I suppose," Lisa replied rather reluctantly.

"And if I were to fuck her right now, in front of you..." He looked at Lisa, wondering how she would react. She said nothing for a moment or two, then muttered something that he couldn't understand. "What was that?" he asked.


"Please," he insisted.

"You're humiliating me again."

He laughed. "Uh-uh. I'm merely frying to find out what makes you tick. Tell you what. Some people are coming over this evening. The usual orgy scene -- heterosexual, for the most part, with a few horny young guys on hand. I'd like you to come."

Lisa eyed him suspiciously. "What for?"

"I want you to make love with them. One of them anyway. I'll let you pick him out, or I'll do it for you."

Lisa thought it over. "I don't think so," she finally said.

"Why not?"

"I just don't like the idea."

Rome shrugged. "It's a proven method, you know. GSI, I mean. My group therapy approach. I can't guarantee that it's going to work tonight, but it's worth a try. I think you've built up a wall of resistance where I'm concerned. You want to come when we're fucking, but you've told yourself not to, perhaps because you think of it as yet another form of humiliation. You didn't want to let me dominate you; you're afraid to let me bring you to climax because it implies that I'm somehow the winner, that I fucked you into admitting that I'm as useful to you as Jan is. But if you make it with another guy tonight..." he paused for emphasis, "... I think you get the idea."

"No, I don't."

"Sure you do. It'll give you a chance to make it with a man who couldn't care less whether you're a lesbian. All he's going to care about is whether you're a good fuck."

"And what if I'm not a good fuck?"

Rome laughed. "Don't worry. You are. You may be a bitch at limes, but in your way you're a very good fuck."

It took him another fifteen minutes of arguing with her, but at long last Rome convinced Lisa to give his plan a try.

Something went CLICK-CLICK in his mind, and his thoughts fluttered back to still another time in his tormented life.

The crime had occurred when Rome was twenty-two. He got eight years for it. Somehow the whole scene seemed a tiny bit unfair.

He had committed the crime almost by accident; it wouldn't have happened if the girl hadn't been such a cockteaser. She had begun the seduction process; it hadn't been his fault, not at all. Donna was twelve years old, but she was a very mature nymphet, one who obviously knew, what sex was all about. He certainly hadn't figured her for a virgin, considering that she'd practically unzipped him and yanked out his cock within minutes of their encounter in the Sears Roebuck parking lot.

"Hi." There he'd been, climbing into his clunker of a Ford, when the sexy little blonde came up to him and thrust her pelvis forward as she stood there with legs parted and hands folded behind her ass.

"Hi," he replied noncommittally, grinding the starter without any initial success.

"Having trouble with your car?"

"It'll start. Always does." He gave it another dose of juice; the starter fought valiantly for fifteen seconds until Rome switched the ignition off again. "What a bitch," he muttered.

The girl's ears perked up. "Are you talking about me?"

He looked at her, wondering what she was up to, then grinned. "No. I'm talking about the Goddamn car."

"Oh." She continued to watch as he tried to start the automobile.

"Can I go for a ride with you?" she asked a little while late; when the engine had finally started.

"Christ, no. You're just a kid."

"I can fuck real good."

Jesus! He didn't believe his ears.

"I don't have any hair on my pussy, just a little fuzz," she said as she leaned against the window frame. "I'll bet you haven't fucked anything like that in a long time."

Rome gulped. "No, I guess not."

She was licking her lips, provocatively. Was it on purpose? Rome felt his cock turn hard.

"You've got a stiff one, don't you?" the girl said with a giggle.

"I..." He glanced at his trousers; there was a very prominent bulge where his cock was fighting to burst through the fabric. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

She laughed again. "My name is Donna."

"It is, huh?"

"Yes, it is." She met his eyes, there was something cold, almost calculating, about the way she stared at him. "What's yours?" she asked.


"Is that your first name or your last?"

"Neither. It's just Rome. It's the only name I go by."

She seemed not to care. "Okay. Look, do I get the ride?"

Rome thought it over. "What if someone sees us? You can't be more than thirteen and..."


"Shit. Well, I'm twenty-two, and..."

"No one's going to see us. I'll keep my head down low."

He gave the engine a little gas, afraid it might stall. "Why are you so eager for a ride in my car?"

"I want you to fuck me, silly. You look like the kind of man I can trust to screw me without telling everyone about it afterwards."

Rome inhaled deeply, then gestured toward the passenger door. "Get in," he said. He reached across and opened the door for her, chivalry seemed in order if a fuck was in the works. "Where do we go?" he asked when she was in the car.

"Any place. Wherever you want to go."

"I've got an apartment. More of a room, really. I use the bathroom down the hall."

She looked at him. "Do you have privacy?"


"Will anyone see us go in?"

"Not at this time of day. The old lady who rents the room to me is visiting her sister, and the guy down the hall works till six in the evening."

She grinned. "Okay."

"You're sure about this?" he asked, not quite believing what was happening to him.

"I want you to fuck me," she repeated firmly.

Gad, Rome thought. It was almost too good to be true.

He took her up the back stairs, not wanting anyone to notice from across the street. He unlocked the kitchen door, showed her inside, and led her down the hallway to his room. "It isn't much, but it's home," he said as he gave her a nudge toward the bed.

"It's very nice," she said. "A double bed too!"

He grinned. "That was one of the reasons why I took the room."

The girl was slow to undress. She seemed nervous. He wondered why.

"Look, if you're not sure..." he said hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Then why don't I go down the hall and undress in the bathroom while you..."

"No. I'll use the bathroom." She giggled. "I have to take a pee."

Rome watched her go down the corridor toward the bathroom; she was wearing tight shorts, and he could see the cheeks of her ass wiggle from side to side as she walked. She had a nice ass, especially for a twelve-year-old. He hoped she wouldn't be too nervous. He had suggested that they undress in separate rooms simply because it would be easier for her that way. Rome's cook was rigid, aching, and he couldn't stand the idea that she might become frightened during the undressing process and change her mind...

He was naked, his cook sticking out in front of him when she came back into the room. She was also stripped to the skin, and was carrying her clothes in a neatly folded pile. "Set them over there," he said, gesturing toward the night stand.

"Am I pretty?" She was blushing in a way that made him hornier than ever.

"Yes." He stared at her crotch, which was smooth except for the barest hint of blond fuzz on the lips between her thighs. "You're fantastic," he said, moving closer to her and reaching out to touch the tiny swellings of her breasts.

She was mature, all right, not so much in body as in the way that she carried herself. She didn't seem to mind when he toyed with her nipples, and she bit her lip shyly but eagerly when he took her in his arms and pressed her close to him, with his stiff cock pushing against her belly.

"It's so big," she said as she touched his prick hesitantly. "I can play with it, can't I?" She seemed unaware of the proper procedure. Rome suddenly wondered if she was so experienced after all.

"Play with it all you want," he said, looking at her. Was she a phony? Suddenly he felt her fingers gripping his cock tightly, with her thumb kneading the sensitive place on the underside, just below the knob.

No, she couldn't be an amateur. She was too damned good. No novice could squeeze him that way; no rank beginner could make his cock swell to even greater size...

"You can fuck me now," she said quietly.

He laughed. "Not yet. Why don't I play with you first?" He gently removed her fingers from his cock and lifted her like a baby; he felt a surge of pleasure as one of her dangling legs rubbed against the stiff and tender glans. He carried her to the bed and put her down on it, pushing her legs well apart and shoving her feet back toward her ass so that her knees were a foot or more off the bed. "I'm going to eat you out," he told her. "Do you think you'd like that? Huh?"

She licked her lips again. The gesture was so Goddamn sexy! "Sure."

Her slit was perfect. So young, so tight, so soft with its sparse coating of pubescent down. He bent over and placed his mouth against it firmly, forcing the tip of his tongue into the crack. The girl giggled. So you think ifs funny, huh? He moved the tongue up and down in the pussy, moistening the inner labes and eventually kissing the clit. She began to respond at last; he felt her knees pushing against the sides of his head, and he heard her breathe harder as he used the fingers of both hands to caress the cheeks, particularly the hidden lower most portions, of her ass.

"Is it nice?" He paused just long enough to ask the question and to look at her expression. She seemed more nervous now -- he wondered why.

"It's nice," she said meekly.

"You're sure?" He was on the verge of abandoning the project altogether, though his prick told him not to give up.

"Yes!" She closed her eyes. "Go on," she told him.

And so he went on. Licked her, sucked her, nibbled her, stuck his tongue in her crack, used his teeth to toy with the firm little inner lips. He tongued her asshole once, wondering how she'd react; she jerked back in fear -- or surprise. Ah, well, how was a twelve-year-old supposed to know what was perversion and what wasn't.

He stuck a finger in her pussy. It was a tight fit. Jesus! Was she a virgin? He tried to get two fingers inside; the hymen resisted the intrusion. Oh, shit!

"Let's forget it," he said at last.


"You're a Goddamn virgin." He was becoming angry.

"No, I'm not!"

"You stupid little bitch. How did you think you'd get away with..."

"I want you to fuck me," she insisted.

"You're too Goddamn tight."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" He was trembling with anger. The fucking little whore had been lying to him all the time!

"Fuck me," she insisted yet again.

"My cock is too big for you." He thought about it for a moment. He wasn't about to go away without getting something out of her. "Tell you what," he said as calmly as he could. "You can blow me."

"You mean..." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I don't do things like that," she said.

"You'll blow me," he said. "You'll blow me or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else..." He slapped her. Not hard, but it was enough to sting. "Blow me," he ordered, straddling her chest and pulling her head off the pillow so that her lips were in position to seize his cock.

"It's too disgusting," she whimpered.

"Do it, damn it!" His temples were throbbing, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.


"Do it!" He slapped her again and tried to force her mouth over the head of his cock. She spat at him; the saliva landed on his lower belly and it made him very, very pissed off. He slapped her again, harder than he had earlier, and he grabbed her by the ears.

"Blow me, Goddamn it!" He tried once more to make her suck him off, but she closed her mouth tightly in silent refusal.

Rome looked at her. The bitch seemed to be smirking. "All right," he said at last. "I'll fuck you."

She laughed. It was a snotty laugh. "See? I won," she said.

"You're not going to like it," he warned.

"Just be gentle."

He shook his head. "Not a chance. Well do it my way, not yours." He got off her chest, moved downward and rested his knees between her legs. He moved into the missionary position, then changed his mind. "Over on your hands and knees," he told her.


"Like a dog."

She stiffened. "What?"

"I'm going to fuck you like a dog."

"No." She was whimpering now, afraid of him and of his swollen, purple-red cock.

"Onto your hands and knees, damn it!" He seized her and, in a sudden burst of strength, threw her into position almost instantly. He got his cock between her legs before she could resist, and within seconds he was sliding into her pussy, tearing the hymen as he went.

"Noooooo!" She was crying out in fear and pain.

"Sorry, baby." He stabbed forward until he reached the rear wall of her cunt; he did a quick reverse and continued backward until his cock slipped out of her hole. She tried to pull away, but he impaled her on his prick once again, repeating the action over and over until she finally gave in to him and let him establish a steady, powerful fucking rhythm.

"Oh, no," she kept mumbling as he fucked her.

Rome grinned. "Oh, yes."

He ended up beating her. He couldn't help it. She spat at him again when he shot his wad into her and pulled out, and he slapped her hard on the right cheek. She slapped back, and he punched her. She tried to get away from him, so he grabbed her by the right arm and twisted it until he heard a snap. She screamed and fell, to the floor. He kicked her, hard enough to hurt her but not hard enough to do any permanent damage. He looked down at her. She had curled into a ball.

"Bitch," he said softly. He felt a curious thrill as he slammed his right foot between her thighs from behind, his toes entering the seed-filled cunt. He heard a splat as the lips parted; he tried to regain control of his emotions when she begged him to stop, but he couldn't seem to overcome the desire to kick, pummel, punch, twist, and otherwise torture her twelve-year-old-body.

"You've got to understand," he said, breathing hard, when he finished and she was crawling to her clothes, which had somehow been knocked to the floor, "It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't lied to me that way."

The girl didn't say anything; she merely sobbed, the tears flowing from her eyes and onto her bruised cheeks and clown to the welts and scratches on her tiny, pink-nippled breasts as she reached for her bra.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

She remained silent.

"You'd better not tell anyone about this. I'll tell them how you talked me into it."

She sniffed.

"I mean it," he said.

Twelve-year-old Donna dressed quickly mad left the room without a word, shaking her head tearfully when he asked if he could two of her home.


It was evening and the GSI meeting was getting underway fifteen minutes before the scheduled time.

"Eager, aren't we?" Rome asked with a grin as he faced the group, all of whom were nude. Rome, too, was naked, as was Tess, who had been invited to sit in as an observer.

"Tonight," Rome said, "something interesting is going to happen. Some of you may know Lisa, who is sitting to my right." He nodded toward Lisa, who nervously attempted a smile. "Lisa is worried about a possible orgasmic inadequacy in her relationships with men. She does fine with lesbians -- I'm not giving away any secrets, am I, Lisa? -- but she fears that she can't climax with men unless she's subjected to pain and/or humiliation. I hope to see that thesis disproved tonight with the help of someone in this group. Lisa will select a partner from among you, and I trust that the honored guest will be flattered by the invitation. Lisa? Would you like to pick someone out?"

There were four possible partners. Hal, a crew-cut, real estate salesman type, was a heavyset man with a dynamic air. Doug, somewhat younger at a mere twenty-two or so, was blond with medium-long hair. He worked in a record shop and loved to talk about Beethoven. Jerry, who had black, shoulder-length hair and a heavy mustache, owned a head shop, one of most profitable suck operations in New York. And Alexis, a research librarian for a prominent foundation, was perhaps forty years of age with a meek manner but a very large cock.

"Take your pick, Lisa," Rome said softly.

"Him," Lisa said at last, pointing at Doug. Doug smiled happily as though he'd won a contest, and started to get to his feet.

"Wait a minute," Rome cautioned. "Let me state the ground rules before you begin. Doug, I want you to fuck Lisa tenderly -- nicely, gently, the whole lovers-in-the-grass bit. No humiliation, no pain, no mental cruelty, none of that shit. Just be nice, and try to show Lisa that she can enjoy heterosexual activities without being treated like a piece of crud. So... go to it, and good luck."

Doug took a deep breath and strolled slowly toward Lisa. He looked nervous but game. "Are you ready?" he asked as he met the girl's nervous gaze.

"Not yet," she said. "You have to get me ready." She attempted a grin; it looked rather sickly, and Doug didn't seem to appreciate what she had intended as a joke.

"Do you want me to feel you up, or suck your cunt, or..."

Rome shook his head disapprovingly. "You've got to talk nice talk, Doug!"

"Sorry." The boy tried to seem less pushy. "Is it okay if I sit down next to you?" he asked, dropping to his knees so that his medium-length cock, still soft, was a foot or so from Lisa's right arm.

"Sure." She shifted position so that her knees were slightly closer together.

"I'm going to touch you," Doug said. "Is that all right?"


"I'm going to start with your breasts." He spoke softly, calmly, like a psychiatrist talking to a nervous patient. "I like your nipples..." He touched them, one at a time manipulating their projecting centers until they were quite hard. "Does that feel nice?"

She shrugged. "It's okay."

"May I kiss your breasts?" He didn't wait for an answer, but leaned over and placed his mouth on her right nipple. He sucked gently, tonguing the nipple to coat it with saliva, then broke away and proceeded to lick the entire undersurface of the breast. He moved to the other tit and did the same thing.

"It isn't doing much for me," Lisa confessed. "Maybe you'd better try something else."

"Sure." He shifted position so that his right thigh was lying parallel to and against her equivalent leg.

He pushed her other thigh to one side, leaving room for his hand between the pelvic joints. "Now," he said. "I'm going to touch you. Tell me if it bothers you at all, or if it hurts, and I'll stop." He slipped a finger into the wad of hair that obscured her pussy; his cock swelled slightly as it pushed into the hole. Lisa looked worried, but she closed her eyes managed to keep her emotions under control. The young man continued to work the finger into her cunt, pushing it in until it was buried up to the hilt, and in the meantime he used the ball of his thumb to massage the base of her clit.

"That's nice," she murmured at last. "Don't stop. Don't move! Do it just like that..." She let her voice trail off as she took her right hand and placed it over his fingers and squeezed him lightly as he continued to rub.

Rome smiled approvingly. "Good work," he said quietly enough so hardly anyone could hear him. His cock was stiff, standing straight out from his body, and he grasped it just below the knob. He squeezed it gently, hard enough to feel sensations but softly enough so as not to build toward a sexual peak.

Lisa suddenly took her hand off Doug's probing fingers and stretched her legs out in front of her. She lay back on the floor and parted her knees until her pussy lips were spread and glistening. Raising her knees, she spoke self-consciously. "Lick me," she said. "Rome does... Please."

Doug bent to his task with fervor. He stretched out between his legs, sandwiching his hard cock between his body and the carpet. He grasped Lisa by the buttocks and pushed his face into her crotch, moistening her pubic hair with his lips and tongue. After a brief search for the right spot, he tongued her clitoris until she began to move her hips rhythmically, her ass moving up and down and from side to side.

"Mmmmmm," she murmured at last.

Rome gripped his cock more tightly. The girl was reacting! Thank God, he thought. Thank God!

Doug's right hand had moved from Lisa's ass to her crotch, and he was fingering her cunt opening while his tongue played with the swollen bud of Lisa's clit. He was making loud; slurping noises as he lapped at her, but Lisa seemed not to mind. She was smiling almost beatifically, and her fingers dug into the rug. Was she thinking about Jan? Rome couldn't tell. Well, she wouldn't be able to think about Jan once Doug's cock was in her, and at the rate things were going the fuck wasn't a long way off, not at all.

"Now?" Doug choked at last, moving into a missionary position.

"I..." Lisa looked disappointed. "Yes, okay. Go ahead. Do it now." She closed her eyes, bit her lips and held her breath while Doug slowly rested his cock head in her vestibule and worked it past the tattered opening of her cunt until finally, with everyone watching, he got five inches of cock inside her.

"I'm in," he said for no particular reason.

"I know," Lisa replied.

Rome shook his head in disbelief. Jesus, he thought. Sex might look silly to some people, what with asses bobbing up and down and all, but it wasn't any sillier than sex-oriented conversation.

Doug fucked Lisa slowly, seemingly afraid of hurting her or of frightening her into losing her interest in the act Lisa didn't look particularly enthusiastic about the whole scene, but she got into the rhythm of things as Doug continued to fuck her. Rome nodded approvingly as he saw that she was beginning to rotate her hips again, albeit to a lesser degree than before, and he grasped his cock tightly, moving the skin back and forth, as he watched her fingers play along Doug's spine while the young man slurped his cock back and forth in her juicy snatch.

Rome let go of his cock, got onto his hands and knees, and crawled closer to the fucking duo. He leaned close to their joined organs, peering up at Lisa's cunt from underneath her right thigh which was lifted from the floor. He could see her hairy outer lips stretched about Doug's throbbing cock, and the slick inner flaps were pressed tightly against the juice-coated shaft as if they were attempting to crush it in their grip. While Rome watched, Doug pulled back so that his cock head almost fell from Lisa's cunt. Lisa moaned and shoved her ass and pussy forward, recapturing the prick. Rome was pleased. Lisa was excited; all right.

Yet that was as far as it went. Lisa was excited. And that was all.

"When are you going to come?" someone kabbitzed from the sidelines, and the accusing tone of the question sent Lisa into tears.

"I don't know," she sobbed, moving her hips faster. "I don't know."

Doug gritted his teeth and fucked her for all he was worth. He managed to balance his weight on his left hand, using his right hand to reach around and underneath to touch Lisa's clit. He strummed the clitoris rapidly, causing Lisa to utter cry after tiny cry. But it wasn't enough; Lisa even said so, finally, "It just isn't enough."

Rome knelt at her side and grasped her by the shoulder. "Relax," he told her. "Just think of what's happening inside your body... a cock is sliding back and forth in your vagina, a pair of balls is slapping against your perineum and ass with each thrust. Doug is fingering your clit; he's stroking it as well as Jan could, even as well as I could... Your clit is ready for climax, but your mind is not. Let your cunt speak out, Goddamn it! Let your pussy be boss!"

Lisa looked at him, her eyes pleading for him to take over. "Fuck me," she choked at last. "You fuck me. Please?"

Rome looked at Doug, who stared back angrily. He raised his eyebrows and the younger man shrugged. "Okay," Doug said at last. "Take over." He pulled out instantly, jumping to one side as Rome moved in. Even as Rome guided his cock toward the girl's quivering pussy, Doug was aiming his prick at her face and jerking off. "I've got to come," Doug said thickly. "Oh, God!" The stuff shot out of his cock in sticky strings, landing on Lisa's face and arms. The girl seemed not to notice. She was too busy concentrating on Rome's enormous hard-on, which had just slid past her inner lips and was now pumping mightily in her wet, cock-hungry cunt.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm," she sighed. "Yes Rome. Oh, God, you're the one." She fucked faster, eagerly, her lips curving upward in her smile and her eyes closed tightly as her mind considered the beauty of being fucked by Rome, her mentor and guide.

"Now," Rome said thickly. "I want you to come now!" He increased the speed of his thrusting, simultaneously bending over to bite her nipples one at a time. He chomped on the tits, licked them, sucked them, buried his face between them, at the same time slammed his cock back and forth in her cunt. Lisa responded by uttering a series of tiny, happy cries; yet she still seemed unable to get over the top of the mountain, to reach the climax which, after all, was what this fuck was supposed to be all about.

"Noooo." Lisa shook her head violently, then began to sob. Rome, oblivious to her sudden action and too far gone to stop in any case, let out a deep throated cry and stiffened as his guts quivered in preparation for the explosion. Suddenly his entire body went into a spasm as the first gob of semen shot out of his cock and into Lisa's hole.

"God," he groaned. God! He fired his load into her, one spurt at a time, and when he finished he saw that Lisa was still quivering, still frustrated with her failure to come.

"What's wrong?" Rome asked, not knowing what else to say.

"I don't know," she wasn't sobbing any more, and her voice was subdued.

"Come on, tell me -- what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she repeated. She, got up and went to the bathroom, where she rinsed her guts with a douche syringe as she ran hot water in the tub.

A week later. Rome was in the bedroom with Lisa and Tess.

"What's wrong?" Rome asked Lisa for the umpteenth time.

"I don't know," she said wearily. She had been asked the question too many times in the last few days.

"Maybe she is a lesbian!" Tess said brightly.

Rome glared at the runaway. "Please," he told her threateningly. "If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it."

Lisa wiped the sweat from her forehead. She was naked, like Rome and the teen-age girl. "You aren't going to fuck me again, are you?" she asked, obviously unenthusiastic about the idea.

"Not unless you want me to."

"Well, I'd rather not. Not today anyway." Rome shrugged. "Then I'll fuck Tess instead." He pinched the girl on the leg. "If you're willing, honey." He looked Tess in the eye and gave her a wink as he moved his fingers farther up her thigh.

"Any time at all," Tess said with a grin.

"Don't mind me," Lisa couldn't manage a more emotional response. Rome wondered what it was that made her so subdued these days. She seemed more than withdrawn; she seemed too Goddamned weary.

Rome got onto his knees and grasped his soft but long cock in his right hand. "Ready?" He was staring at Tess, at her downy, pink-lipped pussy.

"I'm always ready."

Rome laughed. "So am I." He pushed the girl's legs apart, bent down and licked her. She was juicy. "Let's do it with you on top," he suggested.

"Fine." Tess eagerly moved to one side so Rome could stretch out comfortably. Then she straddled his hips, simultaneously stroking his prick to erection. When the cock was fully hard, she placed the knoblike head against her cunt lips and moved from a kneeling to a squatting position. "It's easier this way," she explained. "It's hard to get so much meat in my pussy."

Entry was easy, considering that they'd hardly bothered with foreplay. The cock slid deep into the young girl's cunt, stopping only when it reached the rear wall. Tess pulled upward then, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet as she fucked him. "Nice," she murmured. Rome nodded, grinning. He agreed.

They kept it up for a long time, with Lisa watching all the while. Rome saw that Lisa seemed disinterested at first, then bothered, then frankly jealous. He wondered if the jealousy was good for her, if it would lead her to a little more heterosexual interest of her own. Perhaps, if she saw Tess enjoying herself with Rome, Lisa would feel the urge to prove herself superior to the teen-ager by having just as potent an orgasm. It was hard to say... Rome returned his thoughts to their fucking. He took a deep breath and grasped Tess' hips, pulling the girl's cunt down on his cock so hard that she uttered a tiny cry of pain when she couldn't accept another inch of it. Rome barely noticed when Lisa got up and left.

Rome was on the verge of climax. "I'm going to come," he warned.

Tess grinned. "Me, too."

They came. Magnificently. They shot their wads together, shuddering and twitching amidst great quantities of jism and juice. When it was over, Tess knelt between Rome's knees and licked his cock clean. She began to lick his balls for good measure when Rome pushed her head away with a firm no. He chuckled, patted her, and explained. "I might get hard again, and I'm not ready for that. Not now!" Tess laughed too.

So there they were, minus Lisa, the two of them lying together on the bed and gasping for breath as they savored the postcoital warmth, the dregs of their mutual orgasm.

"I'm tired," Tess confessed.

"So am I."

They fell asleep together, the liquid leftovers of their climax dribbling onto the sheets.


It had been three weeks since Lisa had disappeared so mysteriously. Rome still wasn't sure if he was sorry that she'd walked out on him so suddenly. He wondered why she had done it.

Granted, there had been jealousy. He'd fucked Tess in front of her, and that was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. Still, her departure was surprising. He hadn't expected it. She had seemed too attached to him somehow. She had come to him repeatedly, despite her professed lesbianism, hoping each time to benefit from his advice.

Had she gone to live with Jan? Apparently not. When he called, the blonde and asked if she'd seen, Lisa, the girl seemed as ignorant as he. Granted, Jan could have been lying to him. But she seemed straightforward enough on the phone, and Rome had a talent for seeing through walls of untruth.

Where was Lisa? He didn't know. Nor was he sure that he wanted to find out. He couldn't be expected to accept responsibility for her behavior as long as her whereabouts were unknown.

CLICK -- CLICK again in his brain, and he was once again remembering. Remembering lawyers, judges, witnesses... and a nightmare of a prison in Pennsylvania.

In the end, Donna, the twelve-year-old, had refused to testify against him. He thought he'd go free, but there was a surprise in store for him. It was called the Mann Act. Rome, confused, didn't understand.

"It's simple enough," said the public defender, sighing resignedly. "The Feds are saying you took her over the state line for sexual purposes."

Rome didn't believe him. "We didn't cross any state line," he insisted.

"Just how far is the state line from your apartment, and from the Sears parking lot?"

Rome thought about it for a moment. "Two or three miles at the closest point."

The lawyer smiled sadly. "There you are."

"But we didn't cross it, I tell you!"

"The U.S. Attorney is saying that you drove her across the state line, tried to get her to make love to you there, and that you managed to force her into heavy petting before returning to your apartment where you had sex."

"It isn't true."

"You don't understand," the lawyer said. "It doesn't matter if it's true or not. They've got witnesses."

"What witnesses?"

"A gas station attendant... A motel operator who says you tried to get a room in her motor court across the state line."

"But why would they lie?" Rome asked, confused and angry.

"Why not? You're a certified sex maniac. Certified by the newspapers if not by a judge and jury. The cops can't get the girl to testify, God knows why -- maybe her parents are afraid we'll tear her apart in court -- but the Feds can find witnesses to say you took her into the next state. They can get you on the Mann Act even if they can't get you for assault or statutory rape."

And so Rome went to trial, and his lawyer didn't seem very surprised when he was convicted. They got him on the Mann Act and on a variety of lesser Federal charges. Rome ended up in Lewisburg, a medium-security prison in Pennsylvania. And there...

"Fuck your own asshole!" he told the lifer who tried to press against the seat of his pants as the two of them worked in the bakery. The older man produced a handmade knife and stuck it under Rome's chin, digging the point into Rome's Adam's Apple. "No," Rome choked. He had never made it with a man before, and he wasn't about to lose his anal virginity at twenty-two years of age.

But the lifer proved too strong for him, as did the threat of the knife. Rome found himself bending over, his trousers around his ankles as the older man held the knife blade against his balls from behind. And when the lifer spat on his hands and smeared the saliva over his prick and placed the cock head in the crack of Rome's ass and pushed forward until Rome bit his lower lip with pain and felt his asshole being stretched taut by the penetrating cock.

"I can't take it," Rome groaned.

The rapist laughed. "You're taking it very well, son."

Rome thought of Donna, of her twelve-year-old body covered with bruises and welts. Suddenly he believed in God, and in the mercilessness of His revenge...

Being fucked in the ass wasn't the worst part of being in prison, not at all. What was frightening was the fact that he learned to enjoy anal, intercourse with the other men. Eight years was, after all, an awfully long time. Rome learned to fuck, and to be fucked; he slept with scores of men during his incarceration, men who -- had they been on the outside -- would have condemned all ass fuckers as fags. It was funny how being in prison reshaped your moral outlook, at least temporarily. Masturbation was as accepted an act as urination, and rectal mounting wasn't any more sinful -- from the average prisoner's viewpoint -- than heterosexual fellatio and cunnilingus were to Mr. and Mrs. Middle West.

Rome was glad to get out, of course. And he was happy to be back in the company of women; he still preferred vaginas to assholes even after eight years.

It took him a while to readjust, to get used to massaging clits instead of cocks, to stroking his cock into an opening without rubbing spittle all over it first. He did get over his experiences in jail in the end; yet his thinking would always be colored by the fact that the Establishment had made him spend eight years behind bars.

"You've lost your right to vote," someone told him once, saying it as though Rome should be weeping over his loss of civil rights. Rome, too cynical to believe in democracy, simply laughed.

"When you're in the minority," he said, "a vote doesn't mean much." And he knew that he was right.

GSI was Rome's salvation. The Group for Sensual Involvement -- God, what a name! What a concept! What an opportunity for nonstop voyeurism and screwing! What the hell, he had to find some way of making up for those eight years. Not to mention getting back at the Establishment... What the hell, he liked to say, thinking of the authorities. J. Edgar Hoover, Richard Nixon, John Mitchell, fuck you!

Rome's hand was inside the runaway's panties. He was fingering the slick love lips, using his thumb to massage the clit.

"You're tickling me," Tess said with a giggle.

"Only tickling?" Rome began to strum the clit with two fingers, and Tess suddenly stiffened.

"Well..." The girl put her arms around Rome and pulled his face against her chest.

"Let me get this Goddamn bra off you," Rome said, struggling with the hooks.

"Not now! ... Oh!" she cried out, not at all unhappily, when he pushed one of the brassiere cups up and bit into the breast.

They were stripped to the skin within a minute or so, and Rome grabbed Tess by the ears. "Blow me," he said, his cock swelling as he spoke.

"Let's just fuck," she begged.

"Nope. I want you to blow me first."

"Oh, Rome! ..." She didn't really mind; it was all a game, and one they'd played before. With mock reluctance, Tess fell to her knees in front of him and took a good four inches of penis into her mouth, slobbering on it as she tightened her lips around the shaft. She sucked, licked, nibbled; Rome groaned, gasped, shuddered. All in all, it was a very nice beginning.

"Play with my balls," Rome told her. He closed his eyes and smiled as the girl obediently took his low hanging testicles in her right hand and kneaded them gently, using her fingernails to tickle the wrinkled skin as she massaged the egg-like objects within the sac. He felt her other hand borne up to tug at the hairs playfully; the fingers then slid back along the perineum to his asshole, where she picked out bits of lint.

"Put your finger in my..." He laughed. She knew what he meant without being told in detail. He looked down at her. He thought he could detect a grin at the corners of her cock-stretched mouth.

"Mmmmm," she said. Rome moved his feet apart. He stiffened in anticipation as her finger worked its way into the vestibule of his anus.

"Now," he muttered, closing his eyes again and loosening the anal sphincter as best he could. He found himself thinking of prison again, of being fucked by the lifer and three other inmates, as Tess' finger disappeared into his ass...

There were four of them altogether. The lifer was holding him by his right wrist; a Mexican named Manuel had him by the left. There was a black man, a beefy character with a William Warfield voice, holding him by the left ankle so he couldn't flop around. And Constantin, sweet; muscular Constantin, was sliding to and fro in the hole between Rome's thighs.

"Christ," Rome groaned, feigning discomfort but enjoying the fuck as he hadn't enjoyed a prison sex act in a long time. Constantin's cock was just the right size -- long, but thin, eight inches of stiffness to push the shit back into Rome's guts without tearing his rectum in the process.

Rome's cock was pressed against the cold concrete floor. It was hard. He didn't want the others to know it, didn't want them to laugh in the knowledge that he was turned on by this phony rape scene, but he couldn't help himself. He began to move his hips back and forth, his cook rubbing against the concrete, the delicate and sensitive nerves just below the knob savoring the contact of skin and manmade stone.

The others were laughing at now. Rich laughs, belly laughs, uproarious har-har-har reactions to Rome's unwitting confession of sexual need. He tried to stop, but he couldn't; he kept on rubbing, kept on scraping his cook against the concrete, harder and harder and faster and faster, keying each thrust to the quickening movements of Constantin's cock in his ass.

I'm coming, he thought. And he was. All over the place -- rich canals of white jism forming on the concrete floor.

They laughed at him when he rolled over. One of the men bent down and stuck a finger in the semen, then smeared it on Rome's forehead. "Fuck you," he said. And he did, a few minutes later. That was the nice thing about having friends like these. You got to have it both ways...

"Eat me," Tess said, grinning as she wiped his jism from the edges of her mouth.

"Yeah, sure." Rome, his cock soft and his body weakened from the climax, got down on his hands and knees and waited for her to spread her legs. He looked at the girl's crotch, at the glistening lips with the trickle of juice that was emerging from between them, and he felt happy, so happy that he wanted to cry out. He restrained himself, however, contenting himself with a good taste of Tess' cunt.

"Eat it nicely," Tess giggled. "Make it a real seven course dinner."

Rome smiled. "How could I possibly resist? You truffle, me gourmet."

"Rome?" The voice on the phone sounded familiar.

"God, Lisa!" His guts did a quick jerk.

"I was afraid to call you."


There was a pause as the girl gathered her thoughts. "I don't know."

"You never know anything," he said, laughing. "I know that I wasn't too happy when you fucked that runaway in front of me."

"Oh... Tess." He felt a pang of sadness. "She left a month ago."

"Really? How come?"

"She got homesick. Wanted to go back to her parents."

"I'll be..."

"Don't be."


Rome laughed. "Look, just come around."


"Anytime at all," he said. "As soon as possible."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"Make it ten."

"I'll try."

Rome hung up, feeling happier than he'd been since Tess had said her tearful, heartfelt good-bye.

He cancelled a GSI meeting so they could be together alone, for the entire evening. Not to mention the entire night.


"Say it."

She laughed. "What if you don't like what I'm going to say?"

"Say it anyway."

"All right. After I walked out on you, I went to a lesbian bar."


"And I let myself be picked up by a dyke."

"Butch or femme?"

She smiled wryly. "Butch. Very butch. The Ferdinand the Bull type, you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I do."

"We went to her apartment. She had this... this dildo kit."

"With or without vibrator attachment?" He was grinning.

"Both kinds. And in different sizes -- small, medium, and large."

"You took the large, of course."

"No." She laughed. "It was even bigger than you."

Rome faked a God-now-you've-hurt-my-feelings expression. "What the hell," he asked. "Now you've got me competing with a Goddamn machine?"

"Anyway, she wanted to use the dildoes on me."

"Did she?"

"Oh, yes. She ate me first, and then she got out this big rubber dildo; it was a sort of light green, and she plugged it into the wall. It made a terrific noise, like one of those barbershop massagers, and then she..." Lisa giggled. "Are you sure you want me to go on?"

"Co on, damn it."

"Well, she stuck it in me."

"And you liked it, of course."

"Not at first. It hurt a lot, you know. She didn't have much finesse, I'm afraid. Just got out this big rubber dildo and stuck it in me. It was gigantic, bigger than you'd ever believe."

Rome attempted a smile. "You came in the end, of course."

"Of course."



"You're lying, aren't you?" He prided himself on his ability to see through women's tall stories.

Lisa surprised him when she shook her head and said no.

It was funny how things always went full circle. Life was a series of cycles; you had your good moments, then your bad ones, and then the good ones came along again. Like sunspots, or weather, or earthquakes: everything was in cycles. It was funny, or at least weird.

"I'm going to fuck you," he told Lisa at one in the morning, having wakened her from a sound sleep.

"Oh, shit..."

"Dog style."

"Rome, Goddamn it, I was sleeping!"

"Come on, damn it, onto your hands and knees."

"I won't, Rome. I was sleeping, and..."

"Onto your hands and knees, damn it!"

"Rome, I..." She sighed and gave in. Moving slowly, she pushed the covers back and crawled into position for the fuck. She was wearing one of his nightshirts -- she'd borrowed it, she said, because her shoulders were cold -- and now she pulled it up over her hips so he could put his hands on her ass as he fucked her from behind.

"I'm not going to get you, ready," he warned.

"Why not?"

"I want to see what you feel like dry."

"Oh, God..."

"Spread your knees wider. Lean forward more." He spoke sharply.

"Rome, for..."

"Let's go."

She sighed and obeyed. Rome grinned as he shoved his cock between her thighs, guided the knob of it into her pussy, and pushed it in as far as it would go. Lisa grimaced with pain, but she ended up moving with him, enjoying it more than he would have thought possible a few months earlier.

"It isn't so bad, is it?" he asked as he fucked her slowly, almost in relaxation.

"No," she answered, breathing deeply with each thrust.

"Do you want me to play with you? Touch your clit, tickle your asshole, or..."

"You can touch me," she said.

Rome grinned. She was obviously talking about her clit. He moved his hand around her right hip, slid it between her thighs, felt around for her glistening cunt lips. He found them; they were stretched around his monster cock. He moved the fingertips upward, searching for the clit. He located it and began to stroke it slowly. "Tell me," he said quietly, "how does it feel?"

She was breathing harder. "Fine."

"Tell me if you like it like this." He strummed the clit lightly, flipping the buried portion from side to side like a guitar string, his fingers moving back and forth against the juice-coated prepuce.

"It's nice," she gasped.

"And this...?" He pinched it lightly, just hard enough to make her twitch.


"And this...?" He alternately pinched and strummed it, then began to make tiny rotary movements with the ball of his thumb.

His captured prick dove nobly in and out between the fat hillocks of her ass, sensing her delight at being brandished by his glutting, as she squirmed and let her body go frantic for him, sobbing out endearments trading juices now... doing it... holding back a little... ohhh... going under, losing altitude, as he now hammered and plundered in a fresh surge of concentration, his hips pounding and slapping against the moist, creamy flesh of her ass. Her yelling cries were mingling with her deep moans, and be felt her wriggle more fretfully, feeling her oil out at him as she grunted, "Oh... unnn... now!"

He shot his first thunderous load right up into the heart of her, splitting, spraying endless volleys of hot setting bursts that jammed the new flood of her comings that flushed the wet splattered velvet-tipped cock. The bed wheezed and raffled but the sound was muffled by her mad, hedonistic cries, "Ohhhh! Oh, God! I can't help it, I'm coming! Coming... coming! Here... here's the rest of it! Ahh! Unng! UNNNNNNGGG!"

They clung in silence for long and sheltered moments, unbelieving, letting the cathedral hush of their swindling sighs dwindle away.

"I... I never thought..."

"I know, hon. I know..." he whispered.

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