Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 12byParis Waterman©
Laura married Dwight Littlefield two days before her eighteenth birthday. She had been about to start her college career when he enlisted in the Navy. They had been going steady her last two years in high school, but wound up eloping the week before he was to go to San Diego for Boot Camp.
Following the brief honeymoon, they packed there belongings in a U-Haul and drove to San Diego, found and apartment for Laura and got to spend some weekends together after he had been training for a month. Laura found a part-time job in an attorney's office. Financially we were tight but comfortable if we watched our spending. The only problem was that we knew that in six months or so he was going to be deployed on what the sailors referred to as a West-Pac tour, sending him into the Asian area for six months.
In the two weeks that they had left before Dwight deployed, they made the decision that Laura would stay there and enroll in the local community college with some financial help from her parents. During his absence Laura found the everyday living easy enough. School work kept her busy. She was having a difficult time with one of her math courses and spent a lot of time studying, and even engaged the services of a math tutor. She also began to struggle with an entirely different matter -- sex.
Sex with Dwight was sweet and loving, but never great; and she confided to Marta, a female attorney at the law firm where Laura worked part-time, that she had never reached an orgasm.
"Not even on your honeymoon?"
"Well, we hardly did it on our honeymoon. Dwight was sick a lot and we... just didn't. My friends told me not to worry, that it would come in time... but it hasn't. Maybe I'm one of those women who just can't manage an orgasm."
"Do you masturbate?" Marta inquired.
"Sometimes," Laura replied.
"Do you cum when you do?"
"I guess... I mean, it feels really good."
"I doubt you're orgasming, darling. It sounds like you're merely titillating yourself."
Laura confessed that in Dwight's absence she had been touching herself more and more often. Marta had the good sense not to comment on the revelation.
Things might have continued in this fashion, had Laura not received a telegram from Dwight asking her to supply him with an attorney to represent him at his forthcoming Courts-Martial, but conveniently left out the reason he was being charged.
Of course she presented the telegram to Marta, and asked her for her help in the matter. Marta agreed, and two days later, her telegram to the US Navy requesting she be assigned as Dwight's attorney, and given the pertinent facts, was answered.
With a grim look on her face, she got Laura to accompany her to the ladies room, and there, after determining that they were alone, revealed that Dwight was being court-martialed for being a homosexual. He and another sailor had been caught in the act on board their destroyer. If convicted, he faced several years in the naval prison, followed by a Dishonorable Discharge. Laura was crushed. Her parents and Marta both urged her to have the marriage annulled. She acceded to their wishes, but insisted on providing Dwight with legal counsel, in return for his not protesting her request for an annulment.
The annulment came through several weeks later, and Dwight's counsel, not Marta, by the way, kept him from going to prison, but could not convince the navy to give him a Discharge at the Convenience of the Government. He would have to face life with a Dishonorable Discharge.
Marta invited Laura out a couple times before she accepted an invitation to a party. Marta had intimated that if Laura chose too, she might meet Mr. Right, and get properly laid that night. After thinking it over for a day or so, Laura decided that at the very least, she deserved to get, as Marta put it, "Properly laid."
*** The night of the party, Laura headed to her closet, shucking her boring work clothing as she walked. What to wear, what to wear, she wondered. Linda decided she didn't have the right dress, which would have been more in the gown category, but wanted to make a good impression. Good enough so as to get laid, she told herself, and giggled like a little girl. Ultimately, she decided on a long black skirt, which swirled around her ankles, and slipped into a chartreuse colored blouse. Almost, but not quite formal, she thought, and after several long glances at her reflection in the mirror, she nodded with some satisfaction, spritzed some Opium on her wrists, rubbing them together to dissipate the scent. She searched through three different handbags until she found the lipstick she was looking for: a dark, matte plum shade that made her look more exotic than she felt.
As she arrived at the party, Laura tried to quell the thoughts -- more like fantasies -- that raced through her mind. She hadn't engaged in any flirtation since first meeting Dwight. Not that that brought her any reassurances that she'd been flirting correctly even then. She sighed, and wondered if she'd come across as totally obvious, or worse, desperate.
A woman, perhaps in her mid-fifties opened the door and asked her in. She left her coat on top of a pile of coats and furs in the bedroom just off the front hallway. In the living room there were several groups of people talking. Some stood; others were sprawled on the available furniture.
The uncertainty she'd felt in the car on the way over was now full-blown anxiety. Laura liked parties well enough, but had always gone with someone or a group of someone's. It felt strange to be there all alone. She decided that if someone asked who she was, she'd tell them that she was just leaving, and make her escape.
She spotted the bar on the far side of the room, and feeling as if everyone in the room was watching her with a critical eye, made her way over to it.
The bartender waved his hand over what was being offered: several brands of Vodka, Scotch and Whisky, red and white wine, cranberry juice, orange juice, and a wide variety of imported beers met her eye. Taking a moment to make her selection, Laura settled for a glass of Merlot, and stepped away from the bar and took her first sip of the wine, and found it delicious.
I've never tasted a wine this good, she thought, and returned to the bar to ask for the name of the wine. After committing the name to memory, she turned back to the people behind her and saw a Scandinavian-looking girl standing nearby. She nodded at her, and smiled when the blonde nodded back. Laura then took note of just how attractive the woman was, and that her lower lip had been pierced and a ring inserted.
To her surprise, the blonde didn't speak a word of English. They laughed at the absurdity of it all, and after touching Laura on the shoulder, the blonde walked away to a group standing off to the side.
Laura sipped her wine, and wandered down the hall. She came to a darkened bedroom, glanced in, and saw several people watching a video. There was a small couch and several beanbag chairs available to her as most of the room's occupants were sitting or lying on the floor. The air was thick with the unmistakable odor of pot. She entered the room and lowered herself into a beanbag as quietly as she could manage, thinking no one would even notice her presence.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that the movie was a porno. The others in the room seemed more interested in the joint that was making the rounds than the action on-screen, where a skinny girl was enthusiastically bouncing up and down on a hairy, sweating guy's cock. Laura gratefully accepted the joint when it was offered to her, hoping that a little buzz would calm her nerves.
Across the room, she watched a couple who had just moved to the couch: a plump, dark-haired woman tricked out in her gothiest garb; who immediately began kissing her partner, a decidedly older man whose hands slid over her body with a familiarity that startled Laura. The woman wore a faux-corset with an elasticized back, a diaphanous black skirt with an intentionally tattered-looking hem, and black elbow-length gloves.
Laura couldn't help staring as the woman arched into him, extending her tongue out for him to suck.
Laura didn't want to stare, but the girl seemed to be enjoying the attention, purring every time her companion's hands touched bare skin. A woman, wearing a Domino-type mask, crossed the room and said, "Milton, aren't you going to save some for me?"
Laura's jaw dropped as the woman who looked vaguely familiar sat on the couch next to the girl and kissed her neck wetly. The girl sighed; Milton stroked her breasts.
"Plenty to go around, right, Marta honey?" he said.
Laura went rigid. Marta? Was this woman kissing another woman the Marta she knew? The Marta who had invited her here?
Marta, her lips still locked with the Gothic woman's, nodded slightly. Milton slid off the futon drew Marta's skirt up well over her knees, then knelling between Marta's parted thighs, he curled his fingers around her calves, swirled his tongue over her kneecap and up her thigh.
Marta squirmed, kittenish, possibly ticklish. "God, you're a horny one," she said, and then seeming to notice Laura sitting near them: "Laura... you dear... you made it! How wonderful!
"Milton, I promised Laura here that I'd get her laid tonight. Will you see to it darling?"
Laura was too astonished at Marta's remark to refuse the joint when it was offered to her, and unconsciously, took a deep hit of the bitter smoke, and in the next few minutes her life changed forever.
Milton said, "You must be a very naughty girl to come here with those aspirations, my dear."
Instead of putting him off and telling him she had no intention of letting him into her pants, Laura choked and coughed on the weed. Before she knew what was happening, his hand was up her skirt and massaging her panty-clad pussy. Next to her, the Gothic girl had one leg draped over the couch and the other on the floor, as Marta lapped at her crotch.
Even as she formulated a protest, Laura heard Marta tell the gothic girl, "You're a bad, bad girl. You even smell bad."
"Eat me, bitch!" the Gothic girl moaned, and then Laura realized that she had better pay more attention to her own predicament.
The first fact to register was that she liked the feel of his fingers probing at her vagina. I'm in heat! She thought, and stopped trying to close her legs on his hand. The second fact was that no one in the room was watching the video anymore. Even the joint seemed to have stopped circling the room. She felt as if she were sharing a stage with what's his name -- Milton -- along with Marta and her Gothic slut.
She closed her eyes, and a throb of heat passed through her pussy. Milton's finger had made its way past the barrier of her undies and entered her wetness.
Off in the distance, Laura heard a voice cry out, "Oh, yes!" and belatedly realized it was her own.
"Yes? Yes what?" Milton's voice growled in her ear.
"Huh?" she mumbled, uncertain of her role at the moment.
Milton pinched one of Laura's broad, dark nipples, and then twisted it sharply.
"Oh, my God!" Laura yelped, and suddenly realized she wanted him to do the other exactly the same.
"Want me to eat you?" Milton asked, surprising her. She had the impression that he would do what he wanted with her without asking.
"Yes, um, Milton. I'd like that. But here?"
"Where else?" he responded as if moving to another room was out of the question. She glanced over at Marta and Miss Gothic, found them in a garish sixty-nine.
It was the first time Laura had seen anyone perform the act, including the scant few pornos she'd watched at sleepovers with some girlfriends. Five minutes later, Milton lifted his head from between her legs. His beard was glazed and shiny. "If a gentleman in a red beard wants you to suck him off, do it," he said.
Laura had just cum for the first time in her life, and did not register what he'd just said. "You want me to suck you off?" she asked.
"Sure. But if a guy with a red beard shows up, do him. He's our host."
"Oh..." was all she could manage, for Milton's member was tapping against her lips. She sighed, opened her mouth, and tasted a cock for the first time in her life. Salty... a bit bitter too, but it has no distinctive odor, she told herself.
For his part, Milton seemed to know she lacked experience, and did not force his member on her, but remained content to have her slurp and suck on the head of his dick until, as he knew would happen, the man with the red beard tapped him on the should, and said, "May I try this ... new little cocksucker?"
"Um, hey, new girl?" Milton croaked.
"Mmm?" Laura mumbled incoherently.
"There's another man for you. Do what he wants, sweetie."
Laura didn't understand until the red bearded man slapped her face with his erection.
"Suck it!" he said, leaving her no alternative. She took him into her mouth and realized he was larger than Milton, much larger.
"You want, Milton, you can fuck her," the red bearded man offered generously.
A moment later, Laura felt Milton penetrate her from behind and, while on one level she was appalled at what was happening to her, on another, more primitive level, she was thrilled beyond words at having two cocks at her disposal at the same time.
In the course of the evening, Laura was fucked by three other men as well as one woman. That, of course, being Marta.
Later that night, at home, alone in her bed, Laura replayed how she had fondled Marta's breasts and licked her neck, then greedily kissed her mouth, before jamming her face between the other woman's thighs, and sucking ravenously until being pulled away to suck yet another cock. A feeling of euphoria she'd never had before swept over her, and she vowed to return to the next party scheduled the following Saturday.
Laura went to three more parties before concluding that she was being used, and in danger of becoming a slave to one or more of the politically powerful men in attendance. She went to confession after being away from the Catholic Church for almost a year and a half.
The priest was patient with her, and explored her situation and the means of changing her life. They agreed her best chance at redeeming herself from a life of sexual sin was to return home to North Carolina and starting life over, using her parents and the Church as her main support system.
The following day, she quit her job with the law firm, and left without a word to Marta, bought a one-way ticket to Raleigh, and rented a car then drove to Wilmington.
After settling in an apartment in Wilmington, she found a job and began attending Mass every Sunday. But after a month, Laura began to feel certain sexual urges that did not dissipate even after fervored confessions. The best advice the priest could offer her was to find a nice young man and marry him.
The problem was Laura didn't think she wanted a nice young man. She wanted men, plural, and had only one rule about them. They were not to be anything close to nice.