A Summer in the Flesh Ch. 14-15

“He’s close,” I said.

Vicki released Charlie’s balls and worked her mouth until she was able to drizzle her hand with spittle. Then she grabbed Charlie’s cock and stroked him with incredible speed. I could now see that with her other hand she working his bumhole vigorously. Charlie was now straight as a board with his head tilted all the way back. I watched, and I was turned on, and I moistened.

“C’mon, honey,” Vicki cooed, “come for mama, baby.” My eyes went wide. “That’s it,” she continued, “that’s a good boy, come as hard as you can, baby. Come for mama now.” She was stroking him furiously, twisting her wrist with each beat. My eyes went wider. My pussy ached.

And then a sound came out of Charlie like he had swallowed a gaggle of honking geese. I didn’t think my eyes could get wider after the incestuous imagery, but they did. Charlie’s hips jerked, and a rope of cum shot up in the air with such force I thought it was headed for the ceiling. And then another eruption burst forth before the first had started its descent. By the time Charlie was through, it looked like a madman with a squirt gun full of hand lotion had attacked him.

I was hot. Vicki and I looked at each other. I wondered what now? Vicki took my hand and we stood up. And then I attack-kissed her. I was anxious with desire. I pulled Vicki into me aggressively – an abundance of soft, hot naked flesh, my youthful flesh, her womanly flesh, seemingly fused in our embrace. I was kissing her so strongly and passionately I was lightheaded.

Charlie was irrelevant. Vicki maneuvered us to the bed and we fell on it. We pawed at each other. I couldn’t wait to get my hand between her legs.

We lay side by side, each with a hand buried in the other’s crouch, groping wildly. We kept kissing.

“Why am I so hot?” I panted into her mouth.

“Me too,” she replied.

She rolled on top of me and buried her face in my breasts. I lost contact with her fleecy-soft pussy. She sent two fingers into me and explored my heat and wetness. She nuzzled and kissed my breasts. I felt it again; she was working her fingers into the front of my vaginal wall, like Amy had, my G-spot (how glorious!). Within moments I was coming.

Then she ascended and kissed me, and I rolled on top of her and returned the favor.

We had been lying side by side for a spell, petting and caressing and kissing and cuddling, when I finally wondered about Charlie. I leaned up and looked. He was sitting on the couch, apparently all cleaned up, watching us. I smiled and lay back down. I supposed it was time to leave. I was wrong.

“Do you want Charlie to make love to us,” Vicki said.

“Us? How?” I whispered quizzically.

“I’ll show you,” Vicki replied.

“He may not be…”

“He’s twenty, dear; he’s fine.”

I looked again at Charlie. He was gently petting a near-full erection in his lap.

“Here,” Vicki offered, and she pulled me on top of her again. I was straddling her hips, and she pressed the tops of her thighs against the backs of mine and spread her legs out, which spread mine. We kissed. She kneaded my bum, and then adjusted herself so that she could get the tips of her fingers on my labia. And then she spread them, exposing my pinkness.

“Charlie dear,” Vicki called out, “would you be so kind.

Our breast were warm fluffy pillows between us. We kissed. Charlie crawled on the bed and situated himself between our legs. From the corner of my eye I could see that he was steadying himself with his hands on Vicki’s wide-spread knees.

Vicki spread me wider. I closed my eyes. Charlie entered me. When he began to buck, he was coming up into me, like he was bouncing up off his heels as opposed to moving in and out from directly behind me. His cockhead would push against the back of my vaginal wall, at the opening of my vagina, and then run against it until he was fully in me, pressed against my cervix. It was a new and astounding sensation.

“Does that feel good, Annie?” Vicki asked breathily. I put my face next hers and braced myself. She breathed into my ear. “Do you like that Charlie is fucking us?”

Vicki is a talker, I thought.

And yes, I liked that Charlie was fucking us.

Charlie thrust harder with each stroke, and with each bump up into me he lifted my hips up. Again and again he bumped into me, and I could feel the swelling inside, the heat building, the focus of my consciousness narrowing.

“Are you going to come, Annie,” Vicki said kissing my earlobe.

“Uh huh,” I grunted.

“Let me hear you come.”

“Oh god!” I exclaimed.

Now she held me tightly, immobile, and Charlie fucked me – us!

“I’m gonna come,” I said too loudly.

“That’s it, sweetie, let it all go. Come with me,” Vicki moaned and then she started to coo and moan like she was coming. I did as she suggested. I let go. And I came, and I screamed out girlishly, and I truly felt like Vicki was coming with me.

“Good girl,” Vicki said. I was glad she hadn’t conjured the incestuous imagery again. We were just two women of the world, enjoying a healthy, good ol’ fucking.

And then I could tell Charlie was going to come, and I didn’t want him to.

“No, wait Charlie. I want you to fuck Vicki.” I was momentarily disoriented hearing that come out of my mouth. It was true, however.

I crawled off of Vicki and I rolled on to my side against her and stroked her breasts. We kissed. Her skin smelled faintly of rainwater. As we kissed, a strange sensation came over me. I realized at that moment how much older than me she was. We had been drawn to each other because we thought we looked alike, but we were nothing alike. I couldn’t possibly have known what she knew. I tried to see the evening through her eyes. It both excited me and depressed me. I couldn’t figure out why.

“Are you sure?” Vicki whispered to me.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, very much, but I want to be you when he does it.

I don’t care, I thought. I nodded at Charlie, letting him know I wanted him to do it. I wanted Charlie to fuck her. I wanted him to fuck us both simultaneously, if he could. All right, I don’t know what I wanted; I suppose I just wanted the fucking to continue. And I wanted Vicki to be happy.

He held himself above her with his arms straight out, his hands outside her shoulders. She pulled her knees up. Charlie pressed into her. I rested on my side and watched. Vicki pulled Charlie down against her. She wrapped his waist with her legs, very much like I would have done, I thought.

“Do you want me, Charlie?” she said in a raspy voice.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

Charlie was easing into her.

“I want you, Vic…”

“Shh, Charlie. It’s Annie, Charlie. Go ahead, it’s okay”

I thought Charlie would be confused. He didn’t miss a beat.

“I want you, Annie.”

“Do you want to fuck me, Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“Then fuck me, Charlie. Fuck me hard. And call out my name, Charlie.”

“Oh, Annie.”

“You feel so good, Charlie. You feel so big and hot.” Charlie was bucking into her, and she continued to pull him into her. She kept talking in a low, raspy voice. “You are so beautiful, Charlie. You are every woman’s dream. Oh, I feel you so deep and hot inside of me. Do I feel good, Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“You feel so hot.”

“Use my name.”

“You fell so hot, Annie.”

“Am I sexy Charlie?”

“You are sexy, Annie. I want you so badly.”

“That’s good. That’s good, Charlie.”

Vicki writhed and twisted under Charlie. She set down her legs and grabbed his ass in both hands.

Vicki shot her head back. “Oh Charlie. Oh, oh…” She shuddered – a vaginal orgasm. Just like that – easy as could be. I was jealous.

Charlie sat up and grabbed her by the thighs and fucked her hard, pulling her into him and pushing her away with each thrust. Vicki’s breasts shook with the thrusting. The bed rocked with the force of their fucking. I was happy for Vicki. For whatever reason, I wanted her to know it was Vicki now, not me, who was being fucked.

“Do you like Vicki, Charlie?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think Vicki is sexy?”

“God yes!”

“Do you want Vicki, Charlie?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell her.”

Charlie leaned over her. “I want you Vicki.”

Vicki eyes closed tensely. I motioned for Charlie to get back on top of her, chest to chest, close in, the way I like it.

“Wrap your legs around him like before,” I said, and she did. “Wrap your arms around him,” and she did. “Is that the way you like it?” She looked at me pleadingly and nodded her head. “Do you want more, Vicki?” She nodded her head yes again. Charlie kept rocking his hips, strong eager thrusting, faster and faster, and I could feel the friction building inside of her, between them, between us.

“Feel him, Vicki. This is what you like.” My voice was oddly stern. “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?”

“God yes,” she screamed out.

I leaned even closer to her and I whispered, “You are gorgeous, Vicki. You are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

“Thank you,” she said, and she smiled at me. And I could see she was headed for another orgasm.

I winked at Charlie.

And then I got up, gathered my stuff, and left.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked. It took him a while to find me. He sat next to me in a booth.

“Yes, absolutely,” I replied softly.

“What was that about?”

“What?”

“C’mon.”

“I don’t know, Charlie. I can’t say.”

“That was weird.”

“Did you like making love to Vicki?”

“Yes.”

“Does she remind you of me?”

“No.”

“Good.” That was the right answer, I thought.

“She tastes like smoke and chewing gum; you don’t.”

I laughed. Quit while you’re ahead, I wanted to say to Charlie.

“Your not mad at me, are you?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know. Were you mad at Vicki?”

He had sensed it. I had been angry with her. “Yes, for a moment.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You know, I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but you could at least talk to me. Why were you mad at Vicki?”

I paused and thought of what to say. I wanted to explain it to myself.

“I was mad at her because she didn’t want to be who she was. Did you think she was beautiful and sexy?”

“Yes.”

“What if she were ten years older still.”

“She’d probably still be beautiful.”

“But would you find her sexy?”

“I don’t know, probably not.”

I looked down at the ground. I didn’t feel well all of a sudden. “Maybe I was mad at her because she wanted something I have, when all I have is youth and sex, and I know she has so much more than that.”

“Okay, I’m not following you now. I’ll tell you what I think. I think she’s scared of getting old, and I think you’re being a little too damn judgmental. She ought to be scared of getting old. She just wanted to be young for a few moments.”

He was right. “I’m over-thinking this, aren’t I?”

“Sheesh. Women?”

“So did YOU have fun?” I asked coyly.

“Yeah, sure,” Charlie said, nonchalantly, and then he sighed and laughed and said, “I might not ever be the same.”

I was over-thinking. The music was quiet for a moment. A song started. It sounded familiar. Charlie started laughing. It was Sammy Davis Jr.’s “Candy Man.” I laughed. Charlie pointed to a corner of the room. It was Tom with Vanessa was sitting on his lap. They were sipping drinks and kissing.

“Weird, weird stuff going on in here tonight,” Charlie whispered in my ear.

Charlie and I talked for a while. Again I was thinking it was time to go home. I was finally getting tired, I thought.

I spotted Vicki coming out of the ladies’ lounge, which reminded me.

“You owe Vicki forty bucks.” I took Charlie by the hand over to their table. Charlie pulled out his wallet.

“Oh for god’s sake put that away and sit down,” Vicki said matter-of-factly.

We joined them. We ordered drinks, and Alan insisted on paying for them. I was enjoying the vodka rocks. Charlie had a gin and tonic. Vicki asked questions. The subject of grad school came up.

“So when do you leave for California?” Vicki asked.

And then it hit me. Today was the answer, but I couldn’t say it. Today? This very afternoon? Was that true?

“Very soon,” I replied meekly.

Vicki was genuinely taken aback.

“You can’t be.”

Alan seemed just as distressed. “Aren’t you two a couple?” he asked.

There was silence.

“I may go out for a visit,” Charlie said.

I hadn’t really that about it, but as I did I realized that the Blues House and Amy and Mike and Tom seemed to be fading in my memory already. But Charlie was another story. I would miss him, I thought. I would miss him more than I cared to admit, and more than I wanted to think about. He was my “Wizard of Oz” scarecrow: “I am going to miss you most of all, Charlie.”

At that moment, I knew that Charlie would visit me, and I liked the idea.

I looked at Charlie and smiled. “Yeah, he’ll come out for a visit, for sure, eh?” Charlie laughed at my poor effort at a Canadian accent.

“Good;” said Charlie, “that’s settled.”

Amy showed up at the table. I asked her if it was time to go. It was 3:00 in the morning. The crowd had thinned markedly around 2:00, but it seemed that no one had left since. She said, “No way.”

There were introductions. Alan kissed her hand. Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots were Made for Walking” came on. We all laughed. Amy grabbed my hand and said, “Come on.”

She dragged me to an open platform.

“No way,” I said. I was only wearing my robe and heels now.

“Please. It’ll be fun.”

I remembered my pledge. What the hell, I thought. This will be it though, I promised myself. I followed her up the steps and on to the platform.

No one was sitting at the platform when we arrived, but by the time we stood together on on top of it the ten or so seats had filled. Amy was still wearing her snap off shorts, a lacy camisole, and her spiked heel granny boots. We faced each other.

“Now what?” I asked over the silly song. She put her hands on her thighs and swiveled her hips to the music. I mirrored her movements. We were laughing. There was clapping. Someone shouted, “Yeah baby, it’s a go go.”

Amy jumped and turned 90 degrees. I swiveled in sync with her. Nancy sang, “…made for walking, and that’s just what they’ll do….” I followed Amy as she took steps to the music around the platform. People were lined up behind the people in the seats now.

I saw Tom and Vanessa, then Charlie and Vicki and Alan. I was embarrassed and I knew I was blushing. Amy turned and faced me again. Her smile was bright, but devious. She pulled her shorts up tight against her crotch and took a step towards me. She put her hands on my shoulders. She started to gyrate her hips in a big, slow circle. I put my hands on her hips and followed her lead: one foot out, back in, the other foot out, back in.

The song started winding down. An audible “aaw” came up from the gathering around the platform. I could see the DJ watching us, grinning ear-to-ear. He was waiving enthusiastically, like he wanted us to wait. A new song started. Amy recognized it first, and grabbed my hand to prevent me from leaving. It was Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls.”

“Too cool!” Amy blurted out.

We turned to face the crowd side-by-side, same step, big circular motion with the hips. I was getting the feel of it I thought. Amy pulled off her camisole and threw it on the floor to hoots and hollers from our audience. She turned to face me again. I turned away from her and pretended to by trying to get away. She grabbed my robe at the back of my neck and pulled. I let my arms down to my side and my robe fell off my shoulders and hung from the belt around my waist. More hoots and hollers. Amy came up behind me and cupped my bouncing tits.

“Toot toot, yeah, beep beep…” and on the “beep beep” she squeezed my tits. The audience roared their approval. Dollar bills were raining on the platform.

“Turn and face me,” I heard Amy say, and I did. She was standing wide-legged with her hands on her hips, thumbs under the snap flaps of her shorts. I mimicked her with my hands on my hips.

“On the count of three,” then Amy mouthed the words. One, two….

She ripped of her shorts in perfect timing to a crescendo beat in the song. I froze. And then I was laughing.

“C’mon!!!” Amy yelled, and first she and then the crowd counted, “One, two…

I pulled the tie with one hand and ripped my robe away from me with the other. I would guess there were only thirty or forty people watching, but I momentarily felt like I was on the stage at Woodstock.

So there we were in all our glory, Amy buck-naked in boots, me buck-naked in heels, facing each other, feet apart, hands on our hips, triumphant.

“Hey mister, have you got the time….”

I loved the way it felt. Amy started shaking her tits, and I mimicked her again, except my tits were so big they didn’t get the same effect. They seemed to slosh around in front of me. How ridiculous I thought. The crowd started to clap.

She stepped up to me, reached around me, slapped her hand against my ass and pulled me against her. I was a head taller than she was. I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do. She pushed out one of my feet with one of hers. I kicked off my heels and spread out my legs. She stood up straight and leaned back a little and pressed her pubic mound against mine. I grabbed her ass, she grabbed mine, and we did a grind.

Cheers went up. Amy’s pubic mound was coming up into me, and her patch of pubic hair was rubbing up against my clit. I tossed back my head, dangling my hair, and swayed to the music. Amy slid down, out of my grasp. I looked, and she was doing a forward split between my legs. She grabbed on to my thighs on the way down and buried her face into my pussy. She latched onto my clit, and the sensation shot through me. I put my hands behind my head. My hips undulated with the music against Amy’s mouth.

I looked around the room. They seemed like familiar faces: the four frat boys; Rita and Melissa (with some hunky looking guys); Ted (I hadn’t notice he was still there); Bobby and Andy and Wayne (all former lap dance partners – I always asked for their names); The Big Guy; the torpedo-breasted, bleach blondes; Mike (who was arm and arm with a pretty, heavy-set girl wearing too much makeup); Tom and Vanessa; and Vicki and Alan and my Charlie. That’s what I thought when I saw him anyway. “MY Charlie.” I closed my eyes.

I rocked my hips. I kicked out one leg and swung it over Amy’s head, pulling away from her. I grabbed the bar at the center of the platform. I closed my eyes and swayed. I pulled my self up to the bar, and then I squatted, legs splayed, till my pussy pressed against the cool brass (I had seen the other girls do it, and it just seemed like the thing to do at the time). The thought that came to me just then caught me by surprise. I couldn’t wait to get home and sleep, really sleep with Charlie?

Amy was collecting the money from the floor. She winked at me. I heard a strange agitation from the crowd. A new song was starting. I didn’t recognize it. It had a furious beat and deep, melodic bass notes. Applause, then more applause. I didn’t understand. I turned and saw Dare ascending the steps.

He was in his beach pants only, barefoot and bare-chested, and I stood up and backed up against the bar. All of a sudden, I was nervous as hell. I held on to the bar behind my back with my ass against my hands. Dare strode over to me. He leaned against me. He put his face next to mine.

“Relax,” Dare said. “Amy put me up to this. We can just dance, make a little money.”

He backed up and looked into my eyes. “You look great.”

I looked down at myself. I was naked on a stage in a room full with people milling about and a man with a cock the size of a Kosher salami was staring me down. Another song broke, like the first had been an intro, and I recognized it. “That’s the Way (uh huh uh huh) I Like it” by K.C. and the Sunshine Band. Dare spun away from me and started to bucking his hips and moving about the stage. I felt awkward and silly. Amy came up behind me.