I’m more sober than anyone in the room, including Peter now that the wine has settled in his stomach, but I feel the floor rocking gently … Then it hits me …
I’m coming and I feel that I must be putting my cock almost through the bitch.
But she’s holding back… . I soak her womb with jism, but she won’t come.
Afterward my mouth feels as though I had eaten a spoon of salt. I get up to pour some wine.
Henry is shocked now. Certainly not after I’ve fucked her? Why one can see …
just look between her thighs, all that coming out of her cunt … . but Henry doesn’t know Peter. If there’s jism in a cunt that simply makes it so much the sweeter for him… . He bites Toots’s thighs, tickles her belly with his long red tongue … . then kisses her trap.
Henry clucks his tongue like an old woman … and Peter seems to enjoy shocking him … he puts his tongue into Toots’s trap and brings it out dripping …
then gobbles up the juice that’s fallen into her mop. He sucks her clean, and if there is a single spermatozoon who’s escaped with his life he must be hiding in a corner and hanging on with his teeth.
But when Peter’s through sucking Toots’s cunt, he’s through, and she can’t manage to keep him at it. He pulls his cock out of her mouth, rolls her over as contemptuously as though she were his sister Tania, and plays with her. And Toots enjoys every minute of it.
Oh, she must be insane, she says, to let this boy, this mere child … . this cocksucker, in fact, have her this way. But her insanity doesn’t appear to worry her particularly. She lets him suck her teats, bite her belly … go over her thoroughly. And when Peter, having her on her belly, hoists her ass up and gets behind her, she’s positively docile.
His hard little dick gives her a thrill, too. It may not be as satisfying as the full-sized dongs she’s accustomed to, but when a woman’s being fucked in the ass it doesn’t take a horse to fix that itch… Peter takes her hands in his and puts them on her ass, and she lies on her face with the cheeks spread waiting for him.
Toots isn’t a child like Tania … she has a full sheet aft, and Peter has something to work with. It isn’t hard for him to get his cock in where he wants it, and she’s heavy-assed enough to take it all before she begins to feel it. He hangs onto her bubs like a monkey and rough-rides her.
Henry watches Peter’s fat little ass bouncing… . . I think of a tom cat watching a succulent and foolish bird. He’s sitting there with a broad grin splitting his face
… when I turn around again he’s standing behind the couch feeling Peter’s ass and goosing him. Peter throws him a look and waits … then Toots’s Henry has him, his cock in his ass.
Toots looks around, sees what’s happening and practically turns a handspring. She never even imagined anything like this before, she says … oh, what slime she’s wallowed in since coming from Italy! Peter tells her to be quiet or he’ll piss up her ass … whatever else, you have to admire his aplomb.
Jean Jeudi is looking up … Trust him … no matter what good sense may tell you, if there’s a cunt in the neighborhood all for it. Toots sees him and stretches out her hands … . bring it to her, she begs.
There’s no limit for a woman who’s as crazy for cocks as Toots is … you could stuff her trap, rectum, mouth and ears with them, give her one in each hand and a pair to tickle with her toes … she’d want another between her teats or rubbing her belly. She almost tears my prick on getting it into her mouth … she holds my legs to keep me from taking it away from her again.
My God, what a melee! Peter squeals that he’s going to come … Henry is fucking so doggedly that there’s no question but that he’s about to let his dong explode. Toots is too busy sucking me off to do anything but make those filthy, slobbering noises. Ah, Gay Paree! This must be what people mean when they talk about bohemia… .
I take Toots’s head in my hands, lift it and stare into her eyes. Shit, she’s so groggy with excitement that I don’t believe she even knows who I am or where she is … But she knows that she’s sucking a prick … the veins in her throat and temples are swollen and throbbing … I give her teats a squeeze, and under them her heart is racketting like a drum.
Ah, what fucking whores these nice girls are! She doesn’t even have the decency to close her eyes when I come and she starts to swallow it! But then she’s coming too … . and Peter … Christ, the whole fucking world is having an orgasm!
Tania’s letters are not recommended for insomnia. Alexandra must have picked a remarkably remote place to send the children … if there’s a cock within ten miles it can usually be depended on to find its way to that girl before long, but Tania complains that she’s burning with fevers and frustration. Peter and she are watched and kept apart, and her only amusement is a puppy whom she is corrupting in anticipation of his eventual development:
–he is such a baby that he can’t fuck at all. He doesn’t have any idea of what it is, and when I lie down with my legs open and put him between them he only wags his tail and turns over on his back. That’s because he thinks that when he turns over on his back I’m going to suck his little hose! He likes that already, even if he doesn’t know what it is. Isn’t it wicked, telling you that I’m such a bad girl? Yes, your Tania sucks a funny black doggie’s pip thing, a tiny weenie cock like your thumb but with a baby beard of whiskers on the end. Isn’t it funny to think of a prick with whiskers on the end?… . .
And this too: … . .
… sometimes when I’m playing with him and know that it’s time for him to go out and dig his little hole I undress and lie down naked, holding him on my stomach until he does his pipi, sometimes on my teats and sometimes on my legs and over my little you-know-what! I found out how to make him lick me, too, I put milk on myself between my legs and on my conillon, and oh, how long and flat and wet his red tongue is! Pretty soon I won’t have to put milk between my legs, I hope …
There are the usual details of her daydreams, in which I appear to figure largely, and then something which surprises me:
… . But it will be all Mother’s fault when she comes to find me being fucked by goats and pigs! All her pretty talk when she put me away here! And that pretty business about her church! I know very well that she’s doing something queer with that man, Canon Charenton! I’ve heard about things of that sort before, she needn’t think I’m completely ignorant… . .
So Tania knows about that! And even the man’s name! Where she gets her information is a mystery … .
Ernest has done me a great favor. Unwittingly he has perhaps saved my life.
And I think very well of that life of mine… …
At ten in the evening he comes to my door … with a bloody sleeve. In his coat there’s a huge rent, but his arm is barely scratched. Someone waiting in the hallway tried to take out his gizzard with a knife. Luckily Ernest was as drunk as usual and managed to stumble at just the right second, as the knife swooped at him.
We bathe the cut with whiskey … . you can’t trust these spics to use a clean blade, and they sometimes go so far as to rub garlic on the edge to help make the wound fester. Then a clean handkerchief around his arm and Ernest is as good as new. He knows that I’ve been followed since that night with Rosita, so he’s not worried about the knife being intended for him … . all he has to do to keep his skin whole is to keep himself out of situations where he might be mistaken for me.
But me … what the Jesus am I going to do? I’ll be damned if I’m going to move again. Besides, it would be the simplest thing in the world for anyone who’s really watching me to find out where I’ve gone … .
To settle it Ernest and I go out and get drunk, and Ernest tells me a long and not very coherent story about an inventor he’s met and who he thinks is going to let him screw his wife and maybe his daughter. All night long Ernest tries to head me toward that Spanish joint to have what he calls a show-down with that Rosita cunt. We’ll take the place apart, Ernest says.
