“That’s private information!”
“True, but she says you’re quite the cocksman. She says you slap your dick on her ass to make her feel its meat. She says she knows just how to come with you inside because your knob is special and fits her perfectly. She seems quite content with you as a husband and a lover.”
He sounded relieved. “That’s welcome news, at least.”
“But look, man, she’s clearly a highly sexed woman, and she wants to show me how she takes care of important business when you’re out on the road selling the cheese, or whatever.”
“I draw the line there.”
“You shouldn’t draw that line, sir. I’m looking at her, and I can tell you she is nasty for the handle. This is a big, big urge she’s got. I think if you don’t say yes she may get frustrated and take me as a lover.”
“No!” There was real anguish in his voice.
Cardell let the reality sink in for a moment. “How about if she just tells me, briefly, and doesn’t show me. Would that work?”
The husband made an explosive sigh. “Did she just go for a walk on that beach?”
“Yes.”
“I know she’s a beautiful woman and a highly sexed woman. She gets superhorny after she’s gone for a beach walk and found a couple of pieces of nice beach glass. Put her back on.”
Cardell handed the phone back to Betsy.
“I’ll just tell him about it, hon,” said Betsy, “I won’t show him. Yes, I promise. Okay. Love you, honey. Bye!” She hung up. “I’ll pop into the shower, Cardell. Meanwhile, we keep the screwdrivers in a tool belt hanging in the foyer. I like the one with the kelly green handle. Not the huge one with the blue handle — I tried that one once. Troppo big. Feel free to read a magazine. As you can see, my husband’s into mountain hiking.”
Cardell went and got the screwdriver, and then he sat and read part of an article about crampons. He heard the shower going for a while in the pipes, and then he heard it turn off. Betsy emerged wearing a loose gray cotton dress with her hair turbaned and a different color of lipstick on. She was carrying a tube of something. She walked near him, and he smelled her smell of warm clean wet skin and Kentucky bourbon. He heard a drawer close in the kitchen, and she emerged with one latex glove.
“Now, Card, I gave it some thought in the shower, and here’s what I think we might do. You sit in that chair, facing away from me, and I’ll sit here on the couch like so. You put the handle of the screwdriver into one finger of this glove and hand it back it to me.”
“Right now?”
“Why not? Here’s your drink. I’ll just take up my usual assplay position on the couch.”
“This is where you usually play with your ass?”
“Yes, I like to do it in the living room because it’s nastier that way.”
“I got it. Here.” Cardell handed her the glove with the screwdriver in it. “I figured go with the middle finger.”
She smiled. “Ah, the long fuckfinger of the night. Tried and true. Don’t turn around, now! You can’t look, you horny boy. Now.”
He heard sounds. “I just pull up my dress and scooch down, and then I just squirt a whole mess of Push on the screwdriver finger, like so, mmhm, get it all ready, and then some more right around my asshole, mmhm.”
“What’s ‘Push’?”
“It’s a kind of organic lubricant. Really thick but really slippery. Magic stuff. Unscented. Ooh, I’m tingly now. And one thing: I’m not a fan of the word ‘enema,’ but let me just inform you that I’m very clean.”
“You mean you squirted a bunch of warm water up your butt and all that?”
“I did, used the syringe and the old red two-quart bottle. It was my grandmother’s hot-water bottle. She was a pretty wild lady. Passed it down to me. I used to fill it with hot water and hump it on cold nights. Now, though, mmm. I love to get savage with my ass, but it’s got to be squeaky clean. I hate shit, just hate it.”
“No, I agree, shit’s bad. It’s not good.”
“So now you want me to fuck myself in the ass while I play with Monsieur Twinklestump?”
“Who’s Monsieur Twinklestump? A sex toy?”
“My clit.”
“Oh. Yes, if that’s what you most want to do, yeah.”
“Oh, that’s what I want to do, you bet it’s what I want to do. See, I get reading these paperbacks about the dark devilish men from New Orleans with their hungry eyes and their long southern python cocks that are always ready to ransack a loving woman’s asshole, and while I’m reading I put my feet on the arm of the couch and I just feel that cool air on my cunt’s pussyhole, and I put two fingers in there and, slimp, I taste it, and then I kind of pet my clitty with my thumb, like this, ooh. I like to keep everything growling and purring as much as I can. My left hand’s for my ass, my right hand’s for my cunt and clitty. Separation of powers.”
“Phew, I need a rearview mirror.”
“Don’t you turn, now, Card, you just listen while I devastate my ass for you. Whooo! Oh, it’s going to go in slow. Nice and slow. I start to push it in a little and then I stop — not yet, cause I like the push part so much, and I circle it around the outside some where the choirboys sing because it feels so good on the outside and my asshole starts to melt and depuckerize and get all soft and willing and ready for this big hard screwdriver handle that I’m about to — ooooooof, there it goes in. Screwdriver’s going in. Awwwll.”
“Is it all the way in?”
“No. I can feel the edgy parts, the facets. It’s about an inch in. I wish you could see my cunt staring at the ceiling, Card. My cunnyhole is just looking straight up, and I’m holding the metal part of the screwdriver. I can wiggle it a little bit, that feels good. Ooh.”
“You’re making me nuts!”
“Stand up and slip off that bathing suit. I want to see your ass while I keep pushing and jiggling on this thing.”
Cardell’s suit dropped to the ground, and he kicked it so that it billowed and landed on a bowl of shells. He flexed his asscheek muscles, trying to look as buff as possible.
She said, “You’re a hairy candy-bun boy, aren’t you? Can you show me your asshole?”
“What? No.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“I’m not into that,” said Cardell. “This is about your ass, not mine.”
“Nonsense, just show it to me, bun boy, bend over. Give me a good look. Come on.”
Finally, Cardell bent and opened his asscheeks for her to have a look.
“Oh, Card, that’s one tiny hairy asshole you got. Very discreet. What’s the matter, you’ve never shown anyone your asshole before?”
“This is outside my comfort zone.”
“Good, well, good. Now grab your cock and get it in its comfort zone, honey, and do just what you want to do with it. I’m going to screw myself with this screwy fucker, I’m going to — hooo. I’m going to let it go in till my asshole muscle locks on the — almost, almost — handle’s — there it is — narrower part. Hoh, it’s locked in. Hoo yeah. Fuck. I’ve got this shiny silver screwdriver pointing straight out my ass, I wish you could see it.”
Cardell scanned the room for reflective surfaces. He thought he could almost see some of what was going on behind him in the curve of a glass vase filled with colored sand. “Me, too,” he said.
“Well, do the next best thing and jerk your bull cock while I abuse myself with this thing, just jerk and jack and pound it like you love to do every single day and night. And if you can, tighten your buns again so I get something to look at besides your arms and elbow moving, although I must say they’re nice arms.”
“Okay.” He breathed little panting breaths, his hips rocking as he flummoxed his beatstick.
“I’m going to take a moment to check in on my nipples now. Yep, crinkling up nice. And now I’m going to — oh, lord god — pull the handle out, because that empty feeling feels so good, when I feel my ass closing down again, I tighten it on itself, and it’s suddenly all, like, empty but concentrating hard on its memories, all the nerves in a huddle, and when it goes tight that always makes me want to work my clit, like right na-ha-ha-how! But then when I do my clitty, that makes me need to feel my ass tingle again, so I’m going to circle it with my fingers and feel it go soft again and oh, god, I need something in my cunt now. I think I’ll shove this tube of Push in my cunt, oooh!”