“Certainly he fucks my mother,” Tania says indignantly. “And Snuggles’
mother, too! Yes he does! Snuggles won’t believe me, but she’ll find out… .”
And her brother, that effeminate … is it true that when the mother takes a man to bed she takes the boy in with them and makes him suck her lover’s prick? Oh, what a world! What a wicked family! Then I’ve had the boy suck my prick, the enormous prick which is in her now… What a revelation!
“I’ll show you what Peter sometimes does,” Tania says … . and she’s out of her chair; and on the couch with us. “And I do it sometimes when he’s fucking my mother… .”
She’s upon us, between us, under us … she crawls about and wiggles through my arms like an eel… There’s no holding her still, no pushing her aside. She licks Jean’s teats, she licks my ass and bites Jean’s … . finally, as we lay on our sides, she’s behind Jean with her arms around her waist.
Jean’s thighs are kept apart, because I won’t stop screwing her for long enough to throw Tania on her ass. She buzzes around us like a gadfly, but I’m too hot to swat her. Tania licks between Jean’s thighs … she licks my thighs and balls. There’s nothing she won’t do, the filthy bitch … She kisses Jean’s rectum
… . I can hear her lips smacking and I can hear her sigh. Her nose is in my crotch, my dong rubs it … she’s begging us to be still for just a moment … . one small moment.
“Let her do it,” Jean pleads. “Do what she asks … I want to know what she’ll do… .”
The couch stops bouncing. I have my dick half out of Jean’s cunt, and Tania is kissing it. Her lips flatten on it, and she begins sucking it … . then her mouth slides down and clutches Jean’s fig too… . She’s sucking both of us at once, and even though I begin to screw Jean again she won’t stop. At last I can scarcely tell which lips I’m fucking and which are sucking my cock … . when I take my prick out and then shove it back into Jean’s crotch it’s as often in Tania’s mouth as in Jean’s cunt.
Jean moans that she’s coming … . I fuck her until my belly aches … . and John T. goes off. Tania’s sucking him like a pig, and I take my cock out of Jean long enough to give her a mouthful to smack her lips over… . Then, back in Jean’s cunt. It’s all the same to Johnny now … he’s too drunk to know where he is. I give him back to Tania … then to Jean again… Finally I let Tania suck the last jism out… . .
Things are already so badly fucked up that they couldn’t be worse. But I have to make my contribution to the general disorder… . . Ann wants pictures for her little nookery, so I advise Billie to call her. It doesn’t matter to Billie that this is the mother of a girl she’s been playing with … she has her pictures to sell and a customer is a customer. Next time I see Ann she’s somewhat shocked.
“That artist you sent to see me … . she’s a Lesbian! And such a shocking Lesbian! We had lunch … . you should have heard the remarks she made about women who passed by! Really, I hardly felt safe!”
This from a woman who is buying pornographic art to hang on her walls… .
Ann is still a tourist and will remain one, no matter what happens to her in Paris.
To hear her talk you’d think that cunt-sucking among women was something which sprouted only on this side of the ocean… But at any rate she’s bought some pictures and commissioned more; she likes them and she’s getting her money’s worth, which is something that can’t be said about all of Sam’s art-buying ventures.
In the meantime, Billie and I have talked about things other than art. She came to my place to talk about Jean. What she had to know, she said, was just how I felt about Jean… . Did I have any noble ideas, perhaps about reforming her and leading her to a better way of life? Had I been thinking of taking her for a mistress? Man to man, now… . .
Relief, when she learned that my intentions towards Jean are not at all honorable … . she doesn’t mind if I lay the girl, she explained, just so long as I don’t try to take her away from her. In fact, she likes to have Jean come here because she knows where she is and that she probably won’t catch anything.
And it makes Jean contented to be fucked, too. There, she says, is the reason why she herself continues to make pictures, even though she’s long ago realized that she’s just a capable craftsman and no world beater … . even for a Lesbian there’s not the satisfaction in having her cunt sucked … . not the satisfaction that a normal woman gets out of a good lay. So, she’s always dissatisfied, she has to do something, and she makes herself almost an artist.
Billie and I become very good friends when she’s convinced that I have no designs on Jean other than casual designs. As a man, she asks, what do I think of her? Her as a woman, she means… Does it give me hot pants to look at her?
Do I think that she ought to be a good lay, or would I think so if her hair wasn’t cut that way and if I didn’t know she was a Lesbian? Since I know that she’s not anything but what she is, and since I know that she doesn’t give a damn about attracting men, I can tell her the truth… . .
The truth is that Billie happens to be a very luscious looking package, no matter how it’s wrapped, and I tell her so. For perhaps half an hour we sit by my window and talk about Billie as though she were someone else who wasn’t there just then.
Then Billie looks at her watch … . she has an appointment soon … but before she goes, would I like to fuck her? I can’t believe that I’m hearing straight… . Yes, that’s what she said … . would I like to try screwing her; shall she take her clothes off for a few minutes before she goes?
She explains … she likes me, and she’s grateful, for the way I’m handling Jean. What do women give men when they’re grateful? So if I like her, if I really think that she’s a nice cunt and would be nice to fuck, she’ll let me. If I don’t want to … if I think that her being a Lesbian would interfere (although, she points out, it didn’t keep me from wanting her to suck me off the first time I met her) … . that’s understandable, and no hard feelings either way.
I couldn’t say no to a proposition like that, even if I hadn’t been thinking already what a nice fuck she’d be if she only weren’t queer. A cunt’s a cunt, and it’s what’s between a woman’s legs that matters to John Thursday, not what’s in her head.
“I like to be screwed once in a while,” Billie confesses, “I get a feeling that I’m cheating my destiny if I don’t. Don’t think I’m like those women who can’t stand to have a man touch them … I could marry a man and be a pretty good wife if I had to. But I wouldn’t have much fun.”
We undress in the bedroom, and because Billie is so dark and so odd I pull my Chinese hanging from the wall for her to lie upon. She likes that … it’s an erotic touch that she hadn’t expected. And it’s perfect for her.
Billie has an appealing awkwardness about her when she is taking her clothes off she tries to be feminine and seductive, and it’s like watching a very innocent girl who’s trying to be sophisticated. She steps so cautiously out of her dress as it lies around her ankles … she’s so excruciatingly delicate about letting down her pants and giving me a peep at that black-fringed bonne-bouche … . that I feel like some cradle snatcher who’s bribed a ten-year-old with Woolworth jewelry. Then before she’s taken off her shoes and stockings, she comes across the room to me and lays everything she’s got into my hands. She presses her belly against me; she stands on the tips of her toes and rubs her pussy on my fly. She’s come to be felt of, and the invitation isn’t rejected… She laughs embarrassedly when I pick her up and carry her to the bed.
Hell, I’m embarrassed too … I drop her on the spread, on her ass and she rolls over with her legs apart to show her split fig. Do I want a bite, she asks? Then, when I lunge at her … no, she was joking; that’s a girl’s business.
My dong isn’t up as high as it might be, and we lie there diddling each other until it’s hard enough. There’s a Hell of a lot that Billie doesn’t know about playing with a prick, but Johnny only needs encouragement, not persuasion… . .
“Is
