Her request was obliged. His penis pushed into her so deep she thought she’d scream. He grabbed her hand and made her touch herself as he doubled the pace of his thrusts. His hips slapped the back of her thighs. He was pounding her, his penis plunging steadily in and out as she massaged the tip of her sex with her own fingers. Her breath hissed out of her throat, the pillowcase tore against her teeth. Her orgasm exploded.
The first was an abrupt, flexing burst, followed by strings of smaller pulses that didn’t want to end. His penis continued to reel orgasms out of her loins like strings of large pearls. It felt so good, so delicious, that tears squeezed out of her eyes.
Soon she was so sore and sensitive she could bear no more. Martin’s thrusts ebbed, then he stopped fully, his penis still buried in her. She eased forward, felt it slip out. “I want you to come now,” she whispered. Martin remained upright on his knees. She turned around in the dark. She unhesitantly grasped his penis at its base and took the gorged glans into her mouth. She could taste the wet salt of her own musk. But something was strange, something she noticed at once.
“You sure as shit aren’t going to make me come like that,” her bed companion remarked.
My…God, Ann thought. Her movements froze. Her eyes peeled open as she moved her mouth off.
It was not Martin who had made the remark. It was Milly.
The bed lamp flicked on. Ann looked up, aghast. Milly knelt before her on the bed, naked, the set of her mouth part grin, part sneer. But…but…was all Ann could think until she lowered her gaze. Jutting from betwixt Milly’s legs was a heinous parody of the male sex organ, attached to the nurse’s hips with straps. Ann was disgusted. No wonder it felt so huge—it was huge. It looked like a miniature table leg, polished smooth with a rounded knob. It was black, shining. Even veins had been fashioned along the rubber shaft.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Milly said. “You came, didn’t you?”
“How did—what—” Ann stammered. A brief glance showed her Milly’s room, not her and Martin’s. Ann immediately pulled her nightgown down and crawled back. What was she doing here?
“Come on, Ann,” Milly said. “Don’t pretend. You liked it.”
“I thought you were Martin!”
“Don’t hand me that shit. You started it. You came to me.”
Had she? I must have, Ann realized. “I was confused, from earlier, I mean. I must’ve been disoriented.”
“Bullshit. You wanted it, and you got it.”
Milly’s grin terrified her as much as the sight of the heinous black phallus, which the nurse then gave a mocking stroke. Next, she touched her sex beneath the thing’s base. Ann saw, with further outrage, that the rubber penis even came complete with molded testicles. Milly’s breasts were smaller than Ann’s, and somewhat flat, with large oblong brown nipples. The nipple ends stood out like round wall studs.
“Okay, lover,” Milly said. “My turn now.”
“No! I… It was a mistake!”
Milly wouldn’t hear of it. She pushed Ann roughly onto her back, then straddled over her and unstrapped the penis. “Lie back,” she ordered. She actually put her hand to Ann’s throat as she crawled over her. Between her breasts, there was an odd pendant of some kind, a pale stone on a white string. Milly poised her sex over Ann’s face, one knee at Ann’s armpit, and her other foot planted on the pillow.
“Milly… No…”
Milly chuckled. Her pubis was a great, light brown bush. “You can lick my pussy for a while,” she said, “then you’re gonna put that rubber cock on and fuck the daylights out of me. You hear me, sweetheart?”
Ann could no longer speak; Milly’s sex plopped onto her mouth. A hand grasped the front of her hair. Ann’s lips sealed shut. I’m being raped by a woman, she thought, but she could not explain how she felt. She could scream or even bite…but…
“Go on,” Milly said. “Lick it.”
The light flicked off. The slant of pink moonlight was all that lit the room, falling across Ann’s eyes.
“Lick it.”
Ann gulped.
“I said lick it. Don’t pretend you don’t want to.”
What it was exactly that Ann could not explain to herself was that she did want to.
She hesitated. The pink moonlight oozed into her eyes. Milly lowered herself some more, sitting directly on Ann’s face.
“Go on. Do it.”
Ann felt something release in herself, something in her conscience or her spirit. Her hands drifted up and stroked Milly’s buttocks. She sighed. In another moment she was doing exactly as Milly had ordered.
«« — »»
“Holy shit,” Chief Bard slowly muttered.
Zack’s body lay like a broken doll across the floor. A single Remington 12-gauge casing shined at the baseboard. Zack had a rough, meaty hole in his chest the size of an adult fist. A halo of blood encircled the body.
Tharp, Bard realized.
He noted that the door past the gravedigger’s room stood open. Someone had torn the wood out around the bolt seat. Bard, with a knowing reluctance, stepped past the dark threshold.
Aw, shit, goddamn it, shit. His Mag-Lite played across the cirice. Desecrated, he thought. That’s how they would see this. The dolmen had been tipped over, several of the iron chettles had been cracked. The earthen chalice lay smashed. Tharp had even tried to pry the nihtmir off the wall. Thank God he’d failed.
Bard dragged Zack’s body out to the cruiser. The town lay asleep in darkness. The high hedgerow hid him and his efforts. Zack was what police called “skell”: a low-life deadbeat punk, a criminal. Bard could’ve cared less that the boy was dead; that’s not what distressed him now to the point that he felt tremors in his gut. To them, it wasn’t a street punk who had been murdered, it was a brygorwreccan. This fact, and the desecration of their temple, was notice to them. They had been attacked. They had an enemy in the know.
Bard knew well that they would not like this. No, they wouldn’t like this at all.
«« — »»
Next morning, Martin sheepishly entered the kitchen. Ann didn’t look up from her orange juice and muffin.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he offered.
“What do you mean?” she feigned, still not looking at him.
“Coming home late, coming home drunk,” he said. “I met some of the guys at the Crossroads. We were drinking, running our mouths, and next thing I know it’s closing time. You know how it is.”
“No, Martin, I don’t know how it is. So why don’t you tell me?”
“Come on, Ann. Give me a break.”
At last Ann looked up. “That’s not what any of this is about and you know it.”
Martin looked confused. “Why are you so pissed off? It’s not the crime of the century when a guy has a few too many beers and loses track of time.”
Ann huffed. “I know that, Martin, and you know that’s not the reason I’m pissed off. Don’t treat me like a fool.”
“Ann, what are you—”
“Who were you with yesterday!” she snapped.
He looked at her funny. “I told you, the guys from the ’Roads.”
“Right, Martin, right.”
“It’s true,” he countered. “I was with Andre, the guy who runs the place, and Dave Kromer, Bill Eberhart, and some other guys who work in town.”
“Bullshit, Martin. I saw you. Yesterday afternoon, I saw you driving my car away from that silly little general store, and there was a woman sitting next to you.”