His! With a jolt she remembered her surprise for Larry. She looked across the bed at him, still in a deep sleep. I'll let him sleep, she thought, and show him later tonight!
She looked at the dildo, took it up from the bed into her hand. Smooth. Cold now, but-big. Hard. She wondered if that massiveness would fit inside her anus. What would it feel like? She was sure Larry had plans on her finding out but-no, it would never fit. It would kill her.
She sat on the edge of the bed, tentatively bringing the stone to her buttocks. Lord, the tip won't even fit, she told herself. It's bigger and fatter than Gil even-and unyielding as well. Still, she reached under the bed where they kept the jar of Vaseline, turning onto her stomach as she did. Smearing the greasy yellow substance onto the piece she again brought it to the crack between her buttocks. With one hand stretching behind her she held the cheeks apart. Gingerly she poised the tip at her hole, trying to relax to make the entry easy. Relax. She knew that was the key, but usually in the excitement of the knowledge of the initial thrust she tensed, making the penetration painful and frightening.
Relax, relax, she whispered to herself, yet steeling her body for the spearing. She played a bit with the tip at the puckered opening. She slid the grease down the shaft and slathered her hole with it. At the silent count of three she pushed, sending the large shaft tip only slightly inside her. She let out a deep breath pushing her rear into the air to stretch the passage. Pulling her one arm up under her forehead, she rested, half afraid to try to go deeper. She tried to envision Larry's cock inside her, filling her cavity, probing deep, but the image was illusive. She pushed on the tool again from behind, feeling it expanding her insides with the penetration. It was half in, yet she could feel it as deep as Larry's cock ever got. It felt strange. She could sense the largest part still extending in the air over her as she took away her hand to reach for more Vaseline. She could feel the thing just standing straight up into the air. She laughed at the image. It must look…
"Oh-God!" she screamed. The massive shaft pounded into her body, crashing her stomach to the bed. "Oh, my God, my God," she moaned, trying to shake the haze of stars from her eyes and concentrate her whole being in an effort to shit out the block of stone now stuffing her entire insides.
She jerked her head, dimly seeing Larry's hand extended over her bottom. With unclear thoughts she realized that, of course, how else-and there was a flash of hatred she felt for him, for the shock of that thrust, for the pain enveloping her as she felt the tool begin to slowly slide from her and also felt the weight of his hand push it back in.
"You were relaxed. I heard you laugh. Don't look at me like that," Larry said to her. "I waited until you were relaxed."
She slumped forward onto her arms, unconsciously raising her rear into the air again. Slowly, unthinkingly, she began to enjoy the sensation of the massiveness inside her. Larry's now gentle priming of the pseudo-prick began to pleasurably excite her being. The pain was ebbing. She found herself responding to the motion, her own buttocks reaching to meet the barely perceptible movement.
"Don't move," Larry told her. "I'll be right with you."
She reached behind herself to hold the cock in, to combat the slithering slipping response to the tightening of her anal muscles.
He lay atop her, his stomach pressing the cock deep inside her, imprisoning it in her body. Lifting her bottom higher into the air he reached under her, his arms encircling her hips, meeting at the clitoris. "I brought something else back, too," he told her as he pushed to enter her cunt with his own now seemingly small tool of flesh.
"That old thing," she said.
He pressed his torso tight against her ass, shoving the dildo deep within her again and said, "This old thing has something new added."
And as he ground that old thing deeper within her she had a strange tickling sensation at the outside lips-reaching up and down the length of her opening. No, not tickling. Biting, Pinching, Stinging. She felt that every thrust of his body was stopped short. And with that stopping short this variety of sensations. Almost like-like teeth and finger tips nipping and darting from her rear to her clitoris.
It was-wild. If he hadn't been fondling her breasts with both hands she would have thought his hands were creating the sensations. But as talented as she knew his hands were, they had never done-this-before. She lost her sense of concentration with his repeated thrusts. With each forward motion the huge dildo ground into her rectum. She could feel both members inside her meeting at the midway point of the pseudo-prick.
His prick was fucking a prick. That was almost funny, and she would have laughed had it not been for those thousands of lips biting at her clitoral area.
Gropingly, her hands reached down underneath her upraised body to find his prick. She needed to hold on to something. The whirling crazy images floating in her mind had to have an anchor. Something firm to cling to.
She grasped the root of his cock as he began a deep thrust. Her hand was stabbed by a hundred fingertips. She quickly withdrew it, letting the stabbing hit her lips. Holding onto his thighs, guiding each thrust, making him heave harder, poundingly, grindingly, forcefully, she savored the assaults.
Suddenly the thousand lips, the stone pillar, the thrusting cock tore through her body with a wild explosion.
Her nails dug into his fleshy thighs to signal one final thrust, but he wasn't ready to stop. He slammed into her again and again, lengthening her mind-bending orgasm until she convulsed and collapsed under him completely spent. He whipped his cock from her, sending his erupting come splashing hotly down her back.
As he removed the dildo with one swift, painful pull, he rested it and himself on her back, smearing the come over the both of them.
Chapter 4
The following Saturday morning Larry left for Bombay. The girl he left behind was sulky, moody,, depressed-"a bitch!" Gert admitted to herself, kicking the electric dishwasher in the kitchen.
Not only had she not been granted an opportunity to try out her milk-bath-and-butter techniques on Larry-he'd spoiled that by wearing the living bejesus out of her, which really she shouldn't have been complaining about-but it now looked like she wouldn't get a chance to perfect those techniques. Not with Gil, she wouldn't. Gil the man of milk turned to a man of jelly when Larry had opened the door to his furtive knock the morning after his return. The light was on, Larry's doing, and Gil had heeded the call, one which no doubt he'd looked for daily.
"Milk?" Larry roared. "Who the hell wants milk around here? I can't stand the stuff!"
Gert, who had been in the kitchen with Larry and seen Gil's knees begin to shake, interceded fast.
"Larry, darling, that's no way to talk. After all, what's wrong with a man trying to drum up a little trade? It's part of the free enterprise system. You aren't against free enterprise, are you?"
"Hell no, I'm just against milk." He leered at Gil. "Good man, do you know what W.C. Fields said about milk?"
Gil helplessly looked past Larry to Gert. "N-no. Does Mr. Fields live on this block?"
Gert laughed in spite of herself. For his part, Larry warned Gil that if he or any other purveyor of white fluid showed his face around his door, "I'll pull your goddamn udders off and stuff them up your goddamn nose!"
Well, Larry had always been like that in the mornings.
"Bitch!" Gert repeated, now nursing the toe that had kicked the dishwasher. What she needed was a good screwing.
Good screwing? God, what had she had just that morning, before Larry took off for the airport? A damned good screwing, that's what. Then what was it she needed?