“She was an oddball, Martha. When someone thinks they’re too good for the rest of humanity, then something’s wrong with them. We’re all in this old shit together so we have to make the best of it. Have a little fun.”
“Maybe she just didn’t like fucking?”
“Bullshit. Everybody has a sex life of some kind, even a screwball like that librarian. She probably went home at night and fucked her parakeets.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Doreen. Nobody can fuck a bird.”
“You don’t think so?” the supervisor grinned with a mysterious knowledge. “Let me tell you something, Martha. You’re still young and you think you’re pretty well informed, don’t you?”
“I’m no prude if that’s what you mean.”
“The hell you aren’t! Nobody can be wised up at your age. Sure, you’ve had a few little pieces of ass. But what does that prove? Shit, a lot of kids go fucking under the porch before they get fuzz on their cunt. That doesn’t mean they know anything. Right?”
“I suppose…”
“It takes a lot more than a cherry-busting to understand what makes a woman tick.”
“I still say nobody can fuck a bird.”
“Listen, honey. That’s one reason we want you at our party. We all get a kick when we show somebody else how many possibilities there are with sex. Our little club has been at it for years now and we haven’t even scratched the surface. Fuck a bird? Shit, I’ve seen a woman get fucked by a horse.”
“Oh, you didn’t, really!”
“Horses, dogs, cats, snakes, you name it, Martha, and somebody’s fucked it. When a cock gets hard, or a cunt gets juicy, there ain’t no object on earth that doesn’t turn on somebody. One of our members is a psychiatrist who works at the women’s prison in Jersey. You know what she says? When those girls in there get hot, which is most of the time, they fuck themselves with any Goddam thing there is. And if they know a man has touched it, they stick spoons, candy wrappers, rocks, or any Goddam thing they can find up their cunt. They can stand right in the hallway with their legs crossed, and orgasm fifty times in a row without moving a step. Let me tell you, Martha, when a woman gets really hot, and she’s desperate, there isn’t anything in the whole Goddam world she won’t do to come.”
“You wouldn’t do anything goofy with me if I come to your party?”
“We don’t force anybody, Martha. But we provide some entertainment, and some possibilities, that’ll blow your mind.”
“How come you asked me, Doreen? There’s lots of pretty girls in the office.”
“Sure. And we’ve had a few of them over before. But I really like you, Martha. I think you could be a lot of fun. And I’d give anything to suck your sweet cunt.”
Doreen was truthful about the whole thing and so I trusted her, and besides I really liked fucking. Maybe she was right, that I was only living half a sex life, and I sure didn’t want to miss out on anything. All that talk about sticking foreign objects in my crotch made me shudder and I hoped I’d never get that hard up, and I wasn’t sure how I’d react if Doreen really started to lick my pussy, but an evening of sex was a lot better than some dull movie, so I agreed to the party.
Doreen lived down in the Village, in a building that looked about ready to topple. But inside it was gorgeous. It used to be a ballet studio she said, and that’s why the place was so big. When I got there it was already full of people and yet it was strangely quiet. Somebody was playing a flute with subdued tones some people were sitting on cushions on the floor, while some were mingling among the rest of the guests. I did recognize a few people from the office, but I only knew one of them– Pedro Gonzales. And when I talked to him, he said that Danny would be here, too. That settled me down a bit, since I never did feel relaxed among total strangers.
Even the atmosphere was charged with a new sexual vibration that made me tingle. Living in New York, I was accustomed to crowds, and I had been to parties before, yet this was entirely different. There was none of that strained behavior here, none of the phony ogling that always permeated other parties. Where before at parties everybody made strained jokes about how they’d like to screw somebody, here it was different. Everyone was relaxed and I wasn’t one bit surprised when I saw one girl standing against a wall with her eyes closed while another woman sucked on her titties. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention so I tried to ignore them, except that my own breast began to tinge something fierce.
I figured I could get laid real quick, but after an hour had passed I wondered what I was doing wrong. Pedro was fucking the hell out of a beautiful black girl over by the portable bar, and Doreen had taken another girl into one of the back rooms to lick her pussy. Maybe I really was an oddball and didn’t belong in such a world of sexual freedom, but it wasn’t my fault. I was willing, except that I didn’t know how to go about getting fucked. Oh, sure, I had a few drinks and talked to a few guys, but they seemed to sense my desperation and that turned them off. It seemed that nobody wanted to get mixed up with a girl who still had inhibitions, no matter how worldly she pretended to be.
After three cocktails I got a little more aggressive and tried to fuck a man with a white goatee. He was quite old, but extremely handsome and virile looking. But he cut me cold. It seems like women weren’t the only sex objects at the party, and this old gentleman couldn’t take his eyes off Danny.
I got to feeling like a sore thumb, and was cussing the party, when a girl rescued me from the doldrums. She introduced herself as an airline stewardess and said her home was in India, and asked if I would like to fly around the world.
“Gee, I can’t leave New York,” I told her.
She laughed gently as she touched my breasts.
“We don’t have to leave the room,” she said softly. “We can fly to the moon right here.” I could have kicked myself from being so dumb.
Her name was Nadia and she was wearing one of those Eastern dresses that sort of wrapped around her. On her forehead was a red dot, while her long black hair was tied in a sort of pony tail. We walked together back to one of the little rooms. Not that. I was bashful or anything, but with Nadia, it seemed appropriate to have a gentle hour of privacy.
The room was small but tastefully furnished, with a cot obviously provided to accommodate fuckers. Nadia looked at me, and I looked at her, and the room was filled with love. There is something sweet and gentle, something gloriously feminine about another woman. I could never be a true lesbian because I need the power of a man, the forceful entry, the brutal and guttural grunts that a man makes when he is fucking. Still there is something precious about sex with another female. The touch of her soft flesh, the smell of her femininity, the curves of her body. Nadia felt this too, because when she slipped that cloth from her body she gave a little shudder of ecstasy.
“You have a lovely figure, Martha,” she whispered as I stood naked before her.
Nadia was beautiful, too. Her breasts were small, but firm, with tiny dark nipples, and she had the tiniest waistline I ever did see. Her hips were sensuous and her thighs were smooth, while the dark hair over her pubic area gave promise of new joy.
“May I touch your titties?” she asked gently as she reached over to fondle my breasts.
“Ooohhhhh!”
Her touch sent a shock through me as I felt my nipples spring to life.
The men who had touched my titties had a feel of force, an overtone of violence. While Nadia gave me a tingle of pleasure unknown before. Her hands were eager as she stroked my titties, and when she took one of my nipples between her fingers, I felt my pussy get moist. It was a new kind of sexual heat. This way, with another woman, the sex was radiated back to me until I felt weak with pleasure.