Insatiable Pt. 04

Insatiable (Part 4)

Kathryn M. Burke

Tamara came over to Patrick's house several more times for dinner over the next two weeks. Everyone seemed to be getting comfortable with each other, although Laurie occasionally noticed her friend gazing intently at her lover when she thought no one was looking. So the conversation they had at work one day didn't entirely take her by surprise, as she reflected upon it later.

Laurie looked unusually tousled when she dragged herself into work that morning. Tamara looked her up and down and said: "Rough night?"

"You could say that," Laurie said tiredly. She didn't have to add: That man is wearing me out.

"And this morning too?"

"This morning too. Patrick doesn't seem to realize that there are people who actually have to go to a job in the morning."

"He still goes into your bottom?"

"Of course he does. You know how much he likes it."

"And you like it?"

"Yes. I do now."

There was a long and awkward pause. Then, in a strangely wistful voice, Tamara said, "I wonder if he'd do that to me."

For a while, Laurie only heard the hum of other conversations in various parts of the office. Looking at her friend keenly, she said, "What did you say?"

Tamara's chest rose and fell in agitation; she seemed to be hyperventilating. "I just wonder," she said in a high-pitched voice, "whether he'd try it on me."

"Wait a minute," Laurie said, clutching her head as if trying to grasp the incomprehensible. "I thought you said you hated that procedure."

"Well, how can I know I hate it if I don't try it?"

"I could have sworn you said in no uncertain terms you'd never let a man do that to you."

"Well, the way you describe it, it sounds kind of nice."

"I wouldn't say 'nice' is quite the operative word. Anyway," she went on, glaring at her friend, "I hate to point out the small fact that HE'S MY BOYFRIEND!"

Laurie was shouting by this point—so much so that several other workers stopped what they were doing to wonder what the hell was going on.

"Oh, Laurie," Tamara pleaded, "I'm not trying to take him away from you! I know he loves you, and you love him. And that's great! I've never seen you happier. It's just—"

"Have you ever thought of getting your own boyfriend? I'm sure you can find just about any guy on the street willing to poke you in the butt. All you have to do is ask."

"Laurie, please, don't be vulgar. I'm not going to do that."

"You know what I mean. There are plenty of men out there."

"But that's just it!"

"What's it?"

"Don't you see? If I get a real boyfriend of my own, and I have him do that to me, and I really hate it, then my relationship with him will be all spoiled. But with Patrick, it won't matter, because I really don't have a relationship with him."

Once again Laurie grabbed her head—she almost seemed ready to tear her hair out. The incredible thing was that what Tamara had said made a horrible kind of sense—if she really meant it at face value.

Laurie wasn't stupid: she could tell that, for all her protestations, Tamara really was getting a crush on Patrick—more than a crush, in fact. In the face of her unbelievable request, Laurie's womanly intuituon suddenly kicked into gear, telling her, Don't let her do it! All sorts of complications could happen! But there was another thought that was working its way into her brain—one that she was, as a proud and self-confident woman, extremely reluctant to face.

This man Patrick may be too much for me to handle. Perhaps I need some help.

Tamara mistook the brooding silence that Laurie had fallen into.

"Maybe," she said shyly, "he won't want to do me."

Laurie brayed with derisive laughter. "Are you kidding? He's a man. What man is going to turn down free sex?"

"Laurie, that's not fair! Patrick's not like that. I don't think he is, anyway."

"Okay, okay, sorry. But I'm quite sure he'll be more than happy to oblige."

A kind of glow came over Tamara's face. "So you'll ask him?"

Laurie sighed. "Yes, I'll ask him. I must be some kind of nincompoop, but I'll ask him."

She did so that very evening.

Patrick had worked her over pretty thoroughly, front and back, and she was dazed and exhausted. He didn't seem all that affected—in fact, he seemed inclined for another round. So, to turn his attention away from that, she cuddled up to him as he lay on his back and said:

"Say, here's something funny. Guess what Tamara wants you to do."

She could feel Patrick stiffen ever so slightly. "And what would that be?" he said warily.

A scary thought shot through her mind. Omigod, don't tell me you want her too?

She laughed nervously. "She, um—well, not to put this too indelicately, but she wants you to shove your dick up her ass."

There was a deep and abiding silence. Patrick looked at his sweetheart with an inscrutable expression.

"What is this—your idea of a joke?" he said with some asperity.

"I wish it were, but it isn't! I'm telling you, my man, that's exactly what she wants. She spilled the beans about it today."

"Let me be clear about this," he said, sounding like a professor lecturing a dim-witted student. "She wants me to do anal sex on her. So the obvious question is: why?"

"Beats me! She just blurted it out."

"I got the impression"—and he said the next few words with pungent emphasis—"from everythiung you've told her about us, that she didn't care for that. In fact, I distinctly recall you saying that she swore up and down she'd never submit to that practice as long as she lived."

"Well, it appears that she's changed her mind. Women do that, you know," she added sarcastically.

The look that Patrick was giving Laurie was so intense that she had to look away.

"Is this some sort of trap?" he said. "Are you testing my loyalty and faithfulness?"

"No, no! This is all perfectly serious."

"So you're asking me if I want to do this."

"She's asking you if you want to do this. I'm only the messenger."

"And if I say yes, you'll immediately conclude that I'm a cheating scumbag and will have nothing further to do with me."

"Oh, Patrick, how can you think so little of me? I have every confidence in your devotion. Believe me, I do. I admit, not a whole lot of men have said 'I love you' to me, but when you say it, you obviously mean it. Anyway, it wouldn't be cheating because I'd know all about it; in fact, I'd be setting it up!" I'll be setting up my lover to sleep with my best friend.

"Then why—"

"Look, I think there are a lot of things going on here. First, Tamara hasn't had a man in a while—at least five or six months, I'd say. And it's been even longer than that since she was in a real relationship—one that might actually have led somewhere. And for all I know, all the stuff I've been telling her about our, um, involvement has fired her imagination. She must think of you as some sort of super-masculine stud, but you're also an intellectual, and she's always been attracted to that type. It's like you're Michael Jordan and Norman Mailer all wrapped in one."

"I'm not sure either of those guys, impressive as they are in their respective fields, are exactly models of behavior toward women."

"You know what I mean. I'm pretty sure she has pretty strong feelings about you."

"And you want to encourage those feelings? Isn't that a tad dangerous?"

"You mean, do I think you'll throw me over for her? Well, count me as immodest, but I don't think you'll do that."

"I wouldn't do that, no matter how well I got to know her."

"Well, there you are! So what's the fuss?"

"The fuss," Patrick said, almost choking with frustration, "is that this could get kind of messy. I'm not referring to the act itself."

"I know you're not."

"This is not just a physical thing. We're dealing with people's emotions here."

"I'm well aware of that."

"And you're willing to take that chance?"

"I am. She's my dearest friend. I want what's best for her."

"Well, Laurie, dear," he said, shifting her body so that it was directly on top of him and massaging her bottom absently, "there's something else. You yourself must know that it's not simply a matter of sticking my dick into her butt. That has to be part of a whole process, a gestalt. You know what I mean?"

She gave him a sharp look. "I know exactly what you mean. You want to go into her pussy also."

"It's not that I want to; it's that she won't get the full effect of anal entry unless I—well, unless I make love to her in the fullest sense of the term. And that means . . ."

Almost unconsciously, Patrick had slipped a hand between their bodies and covered Laurie's sex with his hand.

"You want to make her come," she said shortly.

"Of course. Doesn't she want to come?"

"I'm sure nothing would make her happier."

He began stroking her pussy, sliding his fingers between her labia and using his thumb to stimulate her clitoris.

"So," she said between staggered breaths, "you'll do it?"

"If you—and she—really want me to."

"We do."

"And you won't be angry with me?"

"Oh, God!" She was writhing on top of him now. "No, I won't get angry."

"Okay, then I'll do it."

But in the meantime, he'd brought Laurie close to her culmination. Unexpectedly, he stopped his fondling and, taking hold of his now hardened cock, shoved it into her vagina. Laurie liked being on top; but the way this particular copulation had evolved, she felt helpless and almost passive as she endured his increasingly forceful thrusts, which had the effect of bringing on her climax well before he finished. For a woman there is something incredibly intense about having an orgasm while a cock is in her; and as tremors coursed through her entire body, Patrick at last sent a third emission into her—and for good measure he stuck a few fingers into her anus to remind her of his previous entry there.

Or, perhaps, to emphasize what he would be doing to her friend in a matter of days.

*

The next day, Laurie dragged herself into the office, looking and feeling disheveled and worn out.

"Okay," she said bluntly, almost falling into the chair next to Tamara's desk, "you're on."

"On for what?" Tamara said, eyes wide open.

"For Patrick, you dummy! You're on for Friday night. He'll come over to your place."

The blood drained from Tamara's face, and she started breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down. "Re-really?"

"Yes, really. He'll come by around ten o'clock. I guess he'll spend the night." She expelled a cynical laugh. "No doubt he'll make you a nice breakfast the next morning."

"Oh, Laurie, that sounds so—so clinical! It's like I'm calling a male prostitute to come over and service me! Why doesn't he come over for dinner? I like to cook too, you know."

Laurie eyed her friend with a squint. "You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"No, no! I just thought it'd be—nicer this way."

"I suppose it would. By the way, you should be prepared for what he's calling the 'full treatment.'"

"What does that mean?"

"It means he'll probably work you over in all your orifices, not just the one you have in mind."

"Oh," Tamara said in a small voice.

"You're prepared for that?"

"I guess so. You seem to think he's quite the lover."

"He'll definitely give you a good night's sleep, if you know what I mean."

Tamara let out a shaky breath. "You—you're not mad at me?"

Laurie laughed again, even more cynically. "That's pretty much what he said. No, I'll be fine. Well, maybe 'fine' is not quite the right word, but—"

"Laurie, I won't do it if it means I'll be coming between you two."

"Well, there's no avoiding you coming between us, is there? I mean, this isn't exactly the way things are usually done. But don't sweat it. It'll be okay."

And before Tamara could say anything further, Laurie heaved herself out of the chair and went to her own cubicle to begin the day's work.

The next evening, Laurie, realizing that she would probably not see Patrick until after he'd had his rendezvous with her best friend, gave him some advice.

"Listen, my darling, there's some things you need to know about Tamara. She's a little on the—how shall we say?—delicate side. I wouldn't exactly say she's made of porcelain, but I know she doesn't like to be roughed up."

Patrick gave his lady love a flinty look. "I know a lot about Tamara, for your information."

"How could you? You've only met her a few times."

"Dearest, need I remind you that I'm a novelist? I'm supposed to be able to know what different sorts of people are like. I've observed her pretty closely, and—"

"I bet you have!" Laurie said with sudden anger.

"—I have a fairly good idea of what her likes and dislikes are: in bed and out of bed."

"Well, good for you, Sigmund! Then I wish you the best of luck."

Friday at the office was pretty tense for the two friends, and they hardly spoke a word to each other. Laurie had a sinking feeling in her heart that some sort of catastrophe was about to happen, and Tamara felt the same way for different reasons. Right at the stroke of 5 p.m. she got up and, poking her head hesitantly into Laurie's cubicle, said, "I guess I'd better go home and get dinner ready."

"Please do," Laurie said without looking up. Get your dinner ready for you and my lover.

And that's all that Laurie heard of her until the next morning.

Her smartphone rang at around 10 a.m. It was, of course, Tamara.

"So how'd it go?" Laurie said, almost before her friend could even speak a word.

There was a strange silence at the other end of the line, although Laurie thought she heard a sigh.

"Tamara?" she said. "What happened? Tell me what happened! Did it not go well?"

"Oh, Laurie!" Tamara burst out. "It was the most wonderful experience of my whole life!"

It was now Laurie who lapsed into a dumbfounded silence.

"I don't know," Tamara went on, "why you thought he'd rough me up. He was just the perfect gentleman all evening. He came by a little after six, and we sat down to a lovely meal. I cooked a steak for him. I really don't care for steak all that much, so I got a little piece for myself and a big one for him. Then—"

"Tammy," Laurie snapped, lapsing back into the name she used to call her friend by, "I don't care about the steak. Tell me what happened—later."

"I'm getting to that! After dinner we just listened to some music. It was Mozart. I just love the Mozart piano concertos. Some of them are so dreamy and romantic. Anyway, after a while I found myself sitting on his lap. He was just gazing up at me with those soulful eyes of his: in that position my face was a little higher than his. Then he very slowly and carefully started unbuttoning my blouse, and then he took off my bra. I guess he liked what he saw, because he out a soft little 'Oh!' when he saw my bare breasts. I don't think they're quite as big as yours. What size are you?"

"Thirty-eight D."

"Well, I'm thirty-six C. Anyway, he just stared at them as if he'd never seen anything so beautiful. I felt so—so womanly! Then he placed his head between my breasts and just rested it there, as if seeking some kind of comfort from them. Only after a while did he put his hands up and start squeezing them, and then he started sucking on the nipples and even nibbling them gently with his teeth! God, I love that!"

"Yeah, so do I."

"While he was doing that, he slipped a hand under my skirt. I was so fixated on what he was doing with my tits that I didn't even notice at first. It was only when I felt his fingers pulling away the crotch of my panties did I realize what he was doing. By then I was getting light-headed, with the music playing in the background and Patrick doing all this stuff to me. It seemed he didn't care at all about his own pleasure: he just wanted to get me off. And he did!

"God, Laurie, I don't think I've ever come so fast! I almost felt embarrassed at how much of my fluid was leaking out of me. It went all over his fingers and soaked my panties, but he kept at it, stroking my labia up and down, sometimes sticking two or three fingers into my pussy. Do you know he used his thumb to stroke my clit?"

"Yes, he does that to me too."

"But he was so gentle, like he was handling some priceless Ming vase. That sounds immodest, I guess, but that's how it felt. But it didn't matter: the whole thing was so exciting that I started coming in a matter of minutes. I was actually bouncing up and down on his lap and shaking all over! But he kept his fingers fastened to my spot while still sucking and licking my tits. It seemed to go on forever!"

"Sounds fabulous."

"It was! I finally had to push his hand away—I just couldn't take it anymore. Then I tried to get to my feet, but I stumbled because my knees were kind of weak. So he just scooped me up and carried me to my bedroom. You've been there, so you know it's kind of small: not much in it except for the queen-size bed. He placed me on the bed, then stood in front of me while he got undressed. I just watched him in fascination. Omigod, Tamara, what a body he has! Especially his—you know, thing."

"Yes, I've seen that thing many times."

"Of course you have. You silly of me! Like a fool I hadn't undressed myself, so he slowly removed my skirt and panties. And then we got down to business."

Tamara came to an abrupt stop, startling Laurie.

"Yes?" she said. "You want to tell me what happened?"

"Oh, Laurie, I don't think I do. I mean, it's between him and me."

"You're not going to tell me anything? That's not fair! I've told you lots of things about what he and I do in bed."

"I know—and he didn't like that. I don't want to make him angry."

"Oh, come on, Tamara! You gotta tell me something. You can at least say what, um, rear entry was like. That's why you had him over to begin with."

"Laurie, that's not the only reason. Anyway, he didn't do that right off the bat."

"Yeah, I kind of guessed that. So he went into your vagina first?"

"Yes. It was . . ." She trailed off.

"I know, I know. It was heavenly."

"Well, it was! He actually didn't last all that long—I guess he was excited too."

"He didn't—pound you?"

"Of course not! He wouldn't do that! I just don't think that's the way he is."

Laurie bridled at that. "You're saying I made up that story about what he did to me that first time I met him?"

"No, no. It's just—"

"Tamara, he really did take me over his knee and spank me. And that was only the beginning."

"I know—but it's just not how he treated me. That first time he seemed to be in something of a hurry, so he came pretty fast. But even so, there was nothing violent about it. It was almost like it was an appetizer or something. Afterward, I just lay there in his arms, resting. He's a good cuddler, you know."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, he got hard again, and I knew it was time for the—big event. He went to the bathroom and brought back . . . Well, you won't believe this, but he brought back—"

"Some cold cream?"

"Yes! Is that what he uses on you?"

"Yup."

"Well, he put it on me. It felt kind of funny, and I started to giggle. Maybe I was just nervous. Then he got on top of me—"

"Were you lying flat on your stomach?"

"Yeah. I really don't like doggie-style."

"I don't either."

"It actually felt nice with him draped all over me, so warm and everything. Then he went into me. It hurt at first, but I got used to it pretty quickly."

"You're saying it wasn't painful?"

"Not really, not after the first minute or so. It kind of felt like a hot poker that someone had stuck up me, but—"

"A hot poker! That sounds pretty painful!"

"Laurie, it really wasn't! It was just—strange. I almost felt as if I was choking—I don't know why. Anyway, I just fell into a kind of dream-state where the only thing in the world was that big cock of his shoved up my bottom. He wrapped his hands around me and grabbed my tits—"