“I know. I’m starting to peel, too,” Regina sighed. They took off their swimsuits and lay nude, side-by-side, faces to the sun. They were comfortably quiet. Perhaps twenty minutes passed. Then Regina glanced over and saw that MacTeague had a most impressive erection, especially for a man of his years. It arched towards the sun like a young sapling straining skyward for nurture. It was the first evidence he’d shown of any erotic intentions.
“Shouldn’t we do something about that?” Regina asked in a soft voice.
“In due time,” he replied lazily. “There’s no hurry. I’m enjoying it. It doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Not at all. I like to look at it.” Regina reached out and stroked the length of his bristling member. Immediately, magically, it curled up and went limp. “Oh dear! I’m soriy!”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve accepted the fact that at my age the damn thing is perverse. Any man over sixty who invests his ego in his potency is a damn fool. The strangest things stir it, and the most unexpected things make it shrink. It’s best to leave it alone for now, leave it to its own devices so to speak. It will function when it’s ready."
“I think you’re remarkable for a man your age.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
They fell silent again for a few moments. Then Regina sat up and reached behind her, trying to scratch a spot where her skin was beginning to peel. She couldn’t quite reach it.
“Let me.” There was an uncharacteristic breathlessness in MacTeague’s voice. It was almost as if he was responding to a cue for which he’d been eagerly waiting. He balanced on his knees behind her and gently scratched the spot just beyond her fingers.
“That feels good.” Regina wriggled. A stray tress of her red-gold hair was caught by the breeze, and blew across his face, tickling his ear. Her breasts, still as high and firm and well-rounded as when she was seventeen, swayed in the sunlight.
“Would you like me to peel you?” MacTeague’s voice was hoarse.
Regina identified the hoarseness as her own cue. “I’d love it,” she purred. She stretched out on her stomach. The impudent cheeks of her derriere were tight, sun-reddened hemispheres, high and teasing, capable of shimmying like gelatin when she moved, yet firm as sculptor’s clay when Regina was at repose. MaeTeague settled over her in a straddling position, his knees supporting him on either side of the well-padded hips flaring out from her narrow waist. His calves pressed against the sun-warmed hip flesh. The underskin of his scrotum grazed the cleft of her behind as he bent to his task.
Slowly, painstakingly, he peeled oft an inch or so of sun-blistered epidermis. Regina sensed his breathing quickening as he carefully picked at a second layer of loose skin. And when he slid further down to peel the area just above her derriere, she felt the prowling poke of his newly aroused penis.
He turned her over gently, squatted above her, and peeled the skin on her shoulders. The bright red tip of his member nestled in the deep, smooth cleft between the cherry-tipped ice cream scoops which were Regina’s breasts. If they had indeed been ice cream, they surely would have melted now at the heat which spread over them in response to MacTeague’s ministrations. As he peeled, he started sliding back and forth in a way that rendered her bosom-cleft a sheath into which his burning sword was being inserted and withdrawn.
Regina pressed the sides of her breasts with her hands. The maneuver sealed off the cleavage with him squeezed inside. Her breasts had captured his organ, and they clutched it with maddening fervor. MacTeague’s eyes closed. He separated one last layer of loose epidermis from her panting bosom. He bucked violently, and then strained. The muzzle of his cannon bursting free of the tops of her breasts, he climaxed.
MacTeague was a while getting his breath back. Regina sat beside him cross-legged and waited. After a few minutes she spoke. “Sunburn peeling really turns you on.” It was a statement of fact.
“Yes. I get a charge out of skinning a tomato.”
“Come again?”
“I can’t,” he admitted ruefully. “Oh.” He realized she hadn’t understood the ‘tomato’ reference. “Sorry, Regina. It’s a throwback to my slum boyhood. That’s what we used to call girls, ‘tomatoes’.”
“And when you peel their sunburn, that’s ‘skinning a tomato’.” Regina laughed. “How about the reverse?” she asked. “I mean, you’re pretty burned, too. What if I peel you? Does it turn you on?”
“I don’t know. I never had it done to me,” Mac-Teague admitted.
“Would you like me to try it?”
“Why not?”
“Turn over.”
MacTeague obeyed and Regina sat on him, her warm behind resting on his. She slowly peeled the skin on his back, working her way down. She talked in a low, sexy voice as she proceeded.
“I loved it before when you peeled my breasts and my bottom,” she crooned. “I loved the way your hands felt peeling away the loose skin around my nipples. . . . My hard, red, excited nipples! . . . And on my hot backside . . . stroking and peeling . . . peeling and stroking . . . getting me all lovey and creamy. . . .”
MacTeague groaned. His manhood dug a deep groove in the warm sand.
It sprang skyward when he turned over. Regina straddled his thighs and bent forward to peel the skin from his hairy chest. Her fingers tangled in the matting of dark grey hair there.
MacTeague was really excited now. Regina’s naked breasts swaying over him, glistening with moist heat, quivering, tips like red arrowheads-—-the mammarian effect enhanced the titillation of her peeling him. He could feel the hot lubricating of her fulcrum where it pressed against the muscle of his thigh. The muscle flexed in response to the pulsing of her clitoris.
Regina’s hands moved to the burned skin of his inner thighs. His penis jumped like it had been struck by lightning. It was too much for her. Still peeling, she raised up and moved forward. Before MacTeague realized what she was up to, she had impaled herself.
For a second he was afraid he’d go limp; the same thought had occurred to Regina. But it was unwarranted. As long as she kept peeling away epidermis, the erection remained firm.
“This is . . . the first time I’ve kept it up inside a woman in five years,” MacTeague confessed, panting.
“Then I must be the luckiest girl in the world.” Regina bounced up and down enthusiastically.
“You ought to write a book on geriatrics!” He grabbed her burning nether-cheeks, forcing her love-box down the base of his penis so it clutched him there like a suction pump.
“Oh! WOW! I’m coming!” Regina threw her head back in a frenzy. Her green eyes stared blankly at the sun. Her red-gold hair whipped around her heart- shaped face. “I’m coming!”
“Me too! Don’t stop peeling! . . . Don’t stop peeling . . .”
Now, in her penthouse, never dreaming that the deepening shadows outside her window were bringing sudden murder closer and closer, Regina Blue felt a small thrill chase itself over her body as she remembered that first time with Angus MacTeague and the times which followed. Nothing more pathetic than an old whore living on past glories, she recalled. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doingl Wanton wool-gathering! Well now, that will be just about enough of that!
Regina glanced at the clock. It was almost six-thirty. She remembered that it was her housekeep’s day off and that her lawyer-lover was due at eleven. She spent the next hour making the bed and straightening up the bedroom. Then she got out of her housecoat and pajamas, intending to take a shower and fix herself a snack for dinner.
It was warm, but not hot enough to bother with the air-conditioning. Regina opened the window in her bedroom and half-opened the one in her bath-room so the mirror wouldn’t steam up as she showered. She was naked, and just about to step into the shower-stall, when the telephone rang.