Then she saw her mouth go round and small, her eyes huge. She was hissing like a punctured tire, then gasping, swallowing air as her face turned beet-red.
She saw herself peak, heard her cunt gurgling, felt her clit pop like shooting bubbles out at the mirror.
Then, slumped into a heap on the swing, she was smiling at her mirror image.
"I like you, Susie," she said.
Her hips still moved, but slower, as she humped more feebly, descending from the heights of orgasm.
She watched the little egg-shaped jiji fill the mouth of her vagina. Cupping a hand under it, she squeezed her sphincter muscle, and there, it popped right out!
She got off the swing and took the jiji to the chest of drawers where Rita had gotten it. She found a box of tissues, wiped it clean and put it in a box with several others, of which it was now the smallest.
There were combs in the drawer. She took one and, facing the mirror, tidied her hair. She thought, Really, I look nice in this outfit, the blue going very well with my eyes, the exposed breast a quite lovely orb, to tell the truth. And though my pussy hair shows through, everybody knows I have hair down my belly and between my legs, don't they? Fortunately my clit snuggles down into the lip folds when soft, and I can see only a faint pink glistening under the fur.
Susie put away the comb and opened the mirror door, venturing into the hall. She heard not a sound in the house except for the bird twitterings behind her. She recalled that the wardrobe was to the left, the library ahead. She decided to retrace the course she and Rita had taken from the kitchen, which took her first to the library.
It was a pleasant room, had a nice big window, so many hundreds of colorful book bindings, the couch and footstools and floor cushions all in different hues.
On one shelf lay a pack of cigarettes and matches. She took a cigarette and lit it, then thought, Goodness, I shouldn't just take things! But Rita had made her feel so welcome, as though she belonged here, that, she simply sat down on a footstool, hugging her knees, and smoked the cigarette.
She noted that she smelled strongly of pussy.
Normally her instinct would be to rush to the bathroom and wash up, take a douche if possible. But she felt rather lazy, much relaxed by that big fat cum on the swing, and the odor somehow pleased her.
Glancing over the bookshelves she saw An Encyclopedia of Sexology.
She rose and took out Volume C. The shelf was broad enough to lay the book open on it. She paged through to clitoris, found the opening line, "A small organ in the anterior vulva, homologous to the male penis. The focal point of female sexual sensation."
She flipped through the pages and found an astonishing picture, a naked black woman with a plumpish appendage dangling out of her vulval lips, four or five inches long!
She scanned the description. "Arrifra tribe of West Africa, practices clitoridectomy, incision of the clitoris and lengthening by manipulation – including hanging objects from it…"
Goodness! she thought.
She heard a voice say, "Susie."
A male voice. She glanced at the doorway, saw Phil standing there, still wearing his pink panties stretched out to a tent before him by a massive erection.
He said, "Susie, I apologize for leering at you. But gosh, your ass just sends me. I mean I'd like to lick it all over. And nibble. I mean, just sit down on a footstool and feast on ass cheeks."
Susie was too startled to speak, but what she thought was, Oh, my goodness!
CHAPTER FOUR
Gazing at Phil, Susie almost forgot that she was a married woman wearing a diaphanous costume that completely exposed one breast, alone with a horny young man. Perhaps Phil's ridiculous appearance, wearing a girl's panties and smeared remnants of feminine makeup while smoking a stump of a cigar, teased her sense of humor. Too, his friendly and apologetic manner pleased her. And he did not look threatening. He was of medium size, was not particularly muscular, though his body was well formed. He had brownish hair, eyes of indeterminate hue, and the pretty lips that, when she had given him the kiss of greeting, had felt so feminine on hers.
At length she said, "Phil, that's not nice to say, talking about kissing my behind!"
He frowned. She thought she saw a blush color his cheek.
He said, "I'm trying to learn to talk out my hangups, Susie. My girl friend, Willa, says I'm repressed. I've got all these inhibitions, like you have no idea how long it took me to get up the nerve to dress in drag. To see how it felt. Do you understand?"
Susie, who had just had her first glimpse into herself at what might be repressed lesbianism, recognized a fellow sufferer, and said, "I'm sorry I spoke sharply, Phil."
"Oh, that's all right. Look, I have some tea steeping. Would you like a cup?"
"That's awfully kind of you."
He darted off. Susie stood there, a finger in the clitoris section of the encyclopedia, thinking about Phil's desire to kiss her behind. It was a bit flattering, really. And his frank but shy manner was rather touching. It brought out her maternal instincts.
He returned with two of the bamboo mugs and toed a couple of footstools to position where they could sit facing. The sight of his erect penis tenting the pink panties did make her blush but she resolved to accustom herself to it. She laid her book on the floor and took the bamboo mug.
"Is it Kashmir Karma?" she asked.
"Yes. Rita's suggestion. She says it will do both of us good. I asked her to join us but she said she wants us to get acquainted. She's gone out to hoe in the garden."
Susie guessed she should not drink a second cup of the tea, considering how the first had dissolved her inhibitions. But Rita had suggested it and she trusted Rita, so she sipped it and lit another cigarette from the pack on the shelf, using the ash tray Phil had placed on the floor between them.
He said, "I've tried Gwen's yoga. But it makes me nervous, sitting in that funny position just staring at the raunchy wall posters. So Gwen said, ease off, try again during the quarter moon. Or maybe it was the full moon, I don't know."
"Have you gone back – had an experience?"
"No. I thought I'd study myself in depth, here. Now look, Susie, what happens I see you standing at the bookshelves, up on tiptoes reaching for the encyclopedia, which lifted your skirt half off those luscious cheeks, and my cock stiffened in two seconds flat! Does that sound weird?"
Susie had to agree that it didn't.
"So Susie, I thought it might be therapeutic to work out the urge, sublimate my hard on, touch your rump with just my fingertips and mouth. Dig? I know it's a lot to ask since we just met but I feel you belong here, like you're one of us."
Susie, halfway through her cup of Kashmir Karma, really did feel like one of them, at home, no longer embarrassed by the erection tenting his pink panties or her exposed right breast. Thus, sipping tea and smoking her cigarette, she pondered the matter. Considering, for instance, Rita's hospitality and her easy acceptance by both Gwen and Phil, she had certain obligations.
She asked, "Do you really think it would be therapeutic, Phil? Sort of medicinal, curative?"
"Susie, I don't know. I think I should try. Look, don't think I'll go wild and jam my cock into you. I'm really too timid for that."
"Sort of a scientific experiment, huh?"
He nodded.
Finished with her tea, Susie decided the least she could do would be to cooperate. After all, what harm was there in it? None. It simply seemed odd.
He said, "Like if you'd kneel on the stool facing the shelves…"
Very well. She got up, moved the footstool closer to the shelves so she could grip them, turned her back on Phil and knelt.