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12
Ravi talked. Of course Ravi talked. He was emptying his balls into the most beautiful woman around, and he wanted people to know. He also wanted to help bring her down.
Ravi asked Brad if he could give out his phone number to others in the building, and soon the formerly pleasant but reserved Mrs. Edwards, Vice President of the 425 San Dimas Street Condominium Association, was on considerably more intimate terms with four of her neighbors. Ravi made five. Counting herself, they only needed two more to make a quorum.
…
Brad Tomalin unlocked the entrance door and went into the now familiar lobby. Glass doors ahead opened to the patio and swimming pool. To his right a wall of mailboxes and green potted plants. To his left the elevator and a door to the central stairwell.
He entered the elevator, but got off at the second floor rather than continuing to the fifth.
The door to 2S was directly in front of him when the elevator stopped. He went around the corner and knocked on 2E. A woman opened the door. She was about Carol’s height of 5’9”, but ten years older and fifteen to twenty pounds heavier. Not fat. Solid. Her greying hair was cut short, not much longer than his. She was wearing a loose shift that reached to thick ankles, flat sandals. No makeup. She reminded him of Judi Dench as ‘M’ in the James Bond movies.
“You’re obviously Brad. I’ve seen you in the building. I’m Faye. Come on in.”
All the units must be the same, Brad thought. Living, dining and kitchen one large wallless space flowing from the glass doors opening onto the balcony back to a corridor leading past the utility room to bedrooms and bathrooms in the rear.
Faye’s space was cluttered. Almost every inch of the walls was covered by paintings and photographs, some original, some reproductions. A mobile hung from the ceiling. Knick knacks, bric-a-brac, and books fought for space on end tables and shelves. Miniature ceramic elephants. Music boxes. Artificial flowers. A collection of piggy banks. Toy soldiers.
“Sit where you like. I’m drinking white wine. Can I get you a glass.” Her voice and manner were direct.
‘No. I’m fine.”
Brad sat in a chair facing the balcony. The woman on another across a coffee table from him.
“I admire your directness. I am too. You want Carol Edwards. Fine. But I have terms.”
“I’m not going to take your cock just to get her pussy.”
He smiled and thought to himself: you flatter yourself, but said, “I don’t want you to.”
“Then what do you want?”
“For you to lick my ass.”
Peals of laughter rose from the woman like chimes from a church bell. “Really?” she finally gasped.
“Really.”
The pieces of her face abruptly rearranged. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
Silence. Then, “No.”
“All right,” and he started to rise from the chair.
“Wait.”
“Well?” Certain now how this would end.
“Your ass or your asshole?”
“Both. But not often. I know you don’t do men. But an asshole is an asshole. Male. Female. What’s the difference? And I’m sure you’ve performed annalingus before.”
“They say you don’t permit them to use her pussy.”
“That’s right. I keep her perpetually horny. But you can. You can have her three times a week just like the others; but I’ll let you make her come from time to time, which they can’t. Say every other week or so. I’m sure she will be extremely grateful. And as you may not know, she’s never been with a woman before. You get that vestige of her tattered virginity.”
“You know I’m am a dominant woman.”
“That’s why I want you to lick my ass. Also I’m going to choreograph your first encounter. No permanent damage to the goods. No bruises above the shoulder or below mid-thigh. Nothing that will show when she’s wearing normal street clothes. At least for now. And I want you to take pictures. Of her. Of the two of you together. I send the most vivid to her husband.”
“You are a bastard.”
Brad inclined his head.
“Do you want me to do it now?”
“Upstairs.”
Eagerly. “Let’s go.”
Carol was not in sight when they entered her condo.
“She must be in the back. Go surprise her,” Brad instructed.
He went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself some of Ross’s Lagavulin.
He was sitting in a leather and wood chair facing the off-white sofa when the two women returned. A hand painted fabric with squares of earth colors against a flat black background hung on the wall behind the sofa, and three matching throw cushions on the sofa itself. Glass end tables of minimalist modern design at either end. A large mostly beige and mauve abstract carpet over the hardwood floor.
Carol had just showered and her hair was still damp. She was barefoot and wearing white shorts and a yellow tank top through which dark nipples were visible. Although only a few hours earlier, she had been bent over his desk with her skirt above her waist, her beauty struck him anew. She looked clean and fresh and innocent. And wary. Though this could hardly have been unexpected.
“Sit on the sofa, the two of you. But strip first, Carol.”
The thicker woman rearranged one of the throw cushions and took a seat at one end of the sofa, while with quick movements, Carol Edwards pulled the tank top up and her shorts down, before sitting at the other end.
“Turn and face her. Lean back. Your right foot on the sofa back. Show her what’s she getting.”
Faye’s eyes feasted on splayed flesh.
“Spread it open for her.” Carol’s hands moved down. Her eyes on the other woman, whose eyes were fixed on flowering slit, unaware that her tongue was flicking like a snake.
“Mirror her, Faye.”
Heavy body turned, left leg raised. The sole of a wider foot pressed against Carol’s elegance.
Without being told, the older woman pulled up the hem of her shift, exposing muscular thighs and a thick bush of grey wiry hair.
Brad laughed. “No panties. You were ready.”
“Yes.” Voice lust thickened.
“And you would have agree to anything?”
“Almost.”
He kept them sitting there a few moments, withholding a treat from a pet. Both pairs of eyes were fixed upon the other’s slit. One pair hungrily; one pair curiously.
“All right: she’s yours”
With alacrity, Faye pulled her shift over her head, exposing small flat breasts with small hard nipples. Did the shape of her body form her sexual predilections, or did her lesbianism form her body?, Brad wondered.
Faye leaned forward and covered Carol. They both gasped at the contact of hot flesh. Her face hesitated a few inches above Carol’s, eyes searching, seeking, fleetingly pleading, before lowering, lips meeting in a sweet kiss.
Faye broke the kiss and breathed, “Like all the men in this building, I’ve wanted and fantasized about you for so long. I won’t always be this gentle.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
Carol nodded
Hands wrapped in Carol’s hair and lips met again. Mouths opened, tongues touched.
Strong hands moved. Carol’s head fell back. Her lips still parted. Fingers cupped full breasts, squeezed, teased nipples. “So beautiful.”
Small pink diamond hard nipples above larger dark ones. Breasts melded. Flattened. Carol moaned.
Tongue tip traced a line down to Carol’s navel, probed, moved lower.
Faye sat back on her heels, separating their bodies, kneeling on the sofa between Carol’s widely splayed legs. Carol’s right foot was still on the sofa back; left on the floor.
“You haven’t had a cock in there today, have you?”
“No.”
“When last?”
“I’m not sure. Two weeks ago, maybe.”
“You’re to tell me if you have. I don’t want to stick my tongue up there someday and taste come.”
She flicked Carol’s clit with her forefinger, and the younger woman winced.
Forefinger turned and caressed, parted folds, entered, moved deeper, withdrew, was joined by a second finger as Faye bent forward and laid her tongue against Carol’s clit.
Tongue and fingers began their rhythm. Carol’s arms were above her head on the sofa arm. Her head was back. Throat stretched taut. Eyes closed. She had last come fucking herself with the dildo on Brad’s desk several days ago. This felt so good. Faye’s lips had been so soft against hers. So different from a man’s. And the way she licked and stroked.
As the pleasure mounted and her breathing quickened and small sounds began to come from her throat, she turned her face toward Brad and opened her eyes, watching him watching her. Pleased that he was watching her.
Her hips began to move, thrusting up against mouth and fingers, until with a great shudder, she came.
Faye’s face was covered with Carol’s juices. She licked her lips, leaned back, and spread her knees.
Carol knew what was expected of her.
Rearranging her legs, she moved her body above the older woman’s, kissed Faye’s mouth, licked her wet cheeks, stroked her nipples.
“Squeeze.”
Thumbs and forefingers pressed.
“Ahh. That’s good. Harder.” Then again, “Harder.” Pink flesh was compressed white, bloodless, before, “Enough.”
Hands pushed her head down.
Carol had never tasted another woman, but she had tasted herself on fingers and cocks. This was not much different. Less than the difference in taste among cocks and come.
After Carol released her nipples, Faye remained silent. But as Carol licked, those muscular thighs closed and clamped her head. Broad feet and thick ankles locked behind her neck. Wiry hair caught in her teeth. Then suddenly released. Carol was not even sure the woman had come, until a foot pushed her away.
“No more.”
“My turn now, ladies.” He didn’t want to give them time to recover.
Brad was naked. When, both women wondered, had that happened?
“Knell on the floor, facing one another, a foot or so apart.”
“That’s good.”
He stood between them. His cock pointing toward Carol. She opened her mouth and sucked him in. A few seconds passed before he felt warm breath against his ass. Lips kissed his right cheek, moved slowly toward the center. Another pause, while Carol’s head continued bobbing. Hands spread his ass. A nose bumped. A tentative tongue. He reached back with his right hand and forced the face forward. “Deeper.” And two tongues and mouths obeyed.
For several minutes he stood savoring the sensations and the women’s servitude, before extracting his cock from Carol Edwards’ mouth and turning around.
Immediately he felt Carol’s tongue licking his anus.
His cock was in Faye’s face, the glistening tip an inch from her nose. Her brown eyes looked up at him. He looked down inscrutably. They both listened to Carol slurping. Finally Faye tilted her head forward, closed the gap, and took him in her mouth.
Brad let her suck on him for a minute. That was enough. He wondered what she would do if he came? But he didn’t really want her. He would not have cared if she hadn’t taken his cock. He had simply been curious. He turned again and gave Carol his come.
…
Tongues, lips, breasts, fingers, legs, cunts, ass, a cock; but the evening, he thought as he drove home, was really about the eyes.
13
The alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., an hour earlier than it used to.
Carol Edwards rolled naked from her bed and stumbled into the bathroom, where she came awake beneath a brief shower, careful to keep her hair dry.
She gargled with Listerine and brushed her teeth, applied lipstick, ran a comb through her hair, before returning to the bedroom and donning flat sandals and a sleeveless dress with seven big wood buttons up the front. She never ran into anyone in the hallways at this hour--and besides everyone in the building must know by now--so to save time she only secured the second and fifth buttons, before leaving her unit and taking the stairs down to the third floor. Today was David in 3N, Vern in 3E, and Faye.
From a key ring that rivaled the maintenance man’s, she selected 3N and unlocked David’s door. Leaving keys, dress and sandals in the living room, she walked naked to the back of the unit.
David had a prescribed ritual.
He was lying on his back, pretending to be asleep; but as she pulled down the covers the tent in his pajama bottoms proved that he was not. He kept his eyes closed and made no sound as she freed his cock and took it in her mouth. She didn’t suck to get him harder, but to cover him with lubricating saliva to make it easier for herself.
When she thought he was wet enough, she straddled him, facing his feet. Licking her fingers, she reached back and opened her anus before slowly lowering onto his cock.
With such constant repetition, anal sex had become easier for her. She liked the fullness of a cock in her, and in the absence of one in her orphaned pussy, sodomy would have to do. She had never quite had an anal orgasm, but she thought that someday she might.
David continued to feign sleep as she raised and lowered her hips.
In the dark room she could just distinguish his long pale feet.
She did not look back, but sensed that his eyes were open, watching his shaft being alternating buried and revealed.
He came soundlessly.
She wasn’t always sure, but this morning his cock definitely pulsed and she was instantly wetter.
Lifting. Plopping sound as he came free. Carol turned. Lowered her head and sucked him clean, before tucking his cock back in his pajamas, and leaving the old man, still pretending to sleep.
…
Vern, a plain looking, middle aged high school physics teacher, was waiting for her, sitting in his living room wearing a bathrobe and sipping a cup of coffee.
Carol felt sorry for shy Vern, whom she had never known to have a girl friend. She was in fact performing a public service, a chartable act.
He smiled at her almost apologetically and said, “Hi.”
“Hi, Vern.”
“Want some coffee?”
“I’d love some, but,” she shrugged, “no time.”
“Someone else next?” Disappointed at the lost illusion.
“You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You don’t kiss at all.”
In reply she let her dress fall open, and he drew in his breath.
“What today?” Carol asked.
A cushion dropped to the hardwood floor, and she dropped to her knees.
Vern always came quickly and copiously. His come was unusually thick, as though accumulated and concentrated for years. Carol had trouble swallowing it all, but she did, wiped her lips with the back of her hand. And gave him a quick kiss on the top of his bald head, before leaving him to finish his coffee.
…
Faye was more demanding and complicated, but this morning she was still in bed as Carol Edwards made her way to the back of yet another condo unit.
A lamp flicked on in the master bedroom ahead of her. Faye slept in sheer black negligees which didn’t seem in character.
She was sitting up in bed. The hard angles of her body incongruous beneath black film.
“Have they used both your holes?”
“Yes.”
“Come over here. Let me smell your breath….Turn around.” Hard hands spread her ass. “You are a disgusting slut. Lick my cunt and get out.”
…
Fifteen minutes later Carol Edwards was back in her own unit, taking her second shower of the day. In all likelihood it would not be her last.
14
Brad Tomalin left the office late that evening. On the elevator on the way down to his car he glanced at his watch: 8:30.
As he exited the parking garage and regained a cell phone signal, he said, “Call, Carol.”
“Hello.”
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Get on the floor naked with your ass toward the door, knees apart, head down, so that the first thing I see when I come through the door is your cunt and asshole. And leave the door unlocked. I want you aware that anyone could come in.”
…
She heard the door open. Then silence. Then, “Very nice.”
Footsteps sharp on the hardwood floor, softened as they reached the carpet. Brown tasseled loafers, light tan suit trousers seen from the corner of her eyes circled her, stepped back from view. A shoed foot touched the inside of her right thigh. “Wider. Good. That’s better.” Footsteps moved away to the side. “Stretch your arms out as far as you can. Hands palm down on the carpet. Very good.” Footsteps behind her again. “Reach back and spread your ass. Hmm. Both are good, I’m not sure which I prefer.”
Footsteps on hardwood. A cabinet opened. Bottle clicked against glass. Liquid poured. Footsteps returned. A body compressed cushions. Liquid sipped. Swallowed. Glass against glass end table. She could not see him, but she could see him in her mind. She could see herself in her mind, kneeling submissively, spread open, waiting. A powerfully erotic tableau.
For several minutes motionless silence, broken only by a glass being lifted and set down.
Finally, “I didn’t plan this. Just an impulse when I called. But I like it. Every evening you are here alone I want you in that exact position exactly at 8:30. With your door unlocked. Leave your door unlocked all the time from now on. If no one comes through the door by 9:00 p.m. you can get up. I’ll enjoy knowing you are kneeling here waiting. It will remind you of your subservience.”
“As if that is necessary,” she mumbled into the carpet.
He laughed, finished his drink, fucked her in the ass, and left without another word.
Joints stiff from having been on her knees for so long, Carol got to her feet awkwardly. Feeling come start to trickle from her ass, she put her hand between her legs to keep it from dropping onto the carpet, and hobbled back to the guest bathroom, which was closest.
Removing her hand in front of the sink, she watched her reflection as if watching a stranger as the hand which she had intended to rinse, rose to the stranger’s mouth which licked the fingers clean.
…
The unlocked door. Lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, her mind was fixated on the unlocked door at the other end of the condo. How far away was it? Thirty steps? More? Less?
She had to know and got out of bed and paced the distance. Eight steps from bed to bedroom door. Fifteen steps along the corridor to the corner of the living room. Six steps from the corner to the door. Twenty-nine. She had been close.
She stood by the door irresolutely. In the moonlit room, she could see the latch on the dead bolt to the right, and the lever on the door knob horizontal. Only a second to turn the lever vertical and the latch left. She opened the unlocked door a few inches. Closed it. Walked back to her bed, counting the steps again along the way.
Again she tried to sleep.
This was a safe neighborhood. The main entrance door to the building was locked. Brad already had a key to her unit and could enter it, or let anyone he chose enter it, at any time. Having her own door unlocked really didn’t make any difference. But it did. As she lay there naked beneath the sheets, she felt decidedly more exposed and vulnerable. She should have timed it. Someone, anyone, could be on her in seconds.
…
Brad did not call her to his office the following noon.
At 8:28 that evening, Carol Edwards turned off the television, removed her shorts and t-shirt, folded them neatly, and knelt on the carpet. She removed her wristwatch, a Cartier gift from Ross on their fifth wedding anniversary, and placed it near where her face would be. Stretching out her arms caused her nipples to brush against the carpet. Palms down, she slid her knees farther apart, closed her eyes, and waited.
The position turned her on. She knew Brad was picturing her this way. She knew what anyone would see as they opened the door. And anyone could open the door. Would Brad come? Would he send someone else. Or more than one someone? Would Ravi or Faye or other neighbors knock and try the handle? Her cunt tingled, although she knew it would not likely be used.
A sound. Her body tensed. The door opened. She strained to hear footsteps, but there were none. The door closed again.
When the hands of her watch reached 9:00, she struggled to her feet and poured herself a big glass of red wine.
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