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Page 27.
 "You have no shame."
"I don't want to have any shame."
"I am here to remind you of your chastity."
"@ my chastity."
"Okay."
"You're not supposed to make it funny."
"I couldn't help it. You walked right into that one."
"Tell me you like my ass."
"I can watch you walk down the street and wonder how much it would cost to touch your ass."
"Not much. I'm pretty cheap." (She laughed: "But you don't have any money.")
"Now now, in insulting the john."
"Sorry. I'll give you a free blow job to show you that I'm sorry."
"Will you do it on your knees while I stand over you?"
"Uh-huh."
"Want to do it now?"
"Come on, whore."
"No."
"Come on, whore oyster pussy."
"I won't unless you pay me."
"I don't have any money."
"Then you have to lick my knees."
"I think the whore should lick my knees." "The whore will lick anything you want, but you have to lick her knees and her ass cheeks first."
"I want to lick the whore's ass cheeks." "You don't touch the whore's asshole though."
"I like the whore's asshole."
"Do you?" (she softens, as if considering...)
I say: "Yes. The whore has a nice ass, just the right size, without too much or too little, just right." I see that her hand turns knuckles-up under the robe, and the stiff @-finger goes into the slot.
"Tell the whore more about her ass. Her whore ass." With her other hand, she reaches under my robe and finds my stiff cock. My cock is near her ear. "Ooh," she says, "what is this, a telephone?"
"Call me, whore."
"Okay." Diddling herself, she caresses my cock with her cheek. She bubbles with laughter. "Busy signal."
"You have to hang up and dial again."
"Maybe I'll push this button," she says, and punches my nuts gently with her diddlefinger hand. I didn't see that coming, and roll off the couch in pain.
"Oh my God," I hear her cry out through the clouds of olive drab, bilious blue, mustard yellow, and ketchup-garbage pain that float like huge bubble bladders in my blinded vision.
"Are you kidding around, Peter?"
I lie in a fetal position gasping for breath, as the pain starts to ease. "Please don't do that ever again, okay?"
She was on her knees hovering over me as if I were a deer she'd hit on the road. Her arms were outstretched as if she wanted to heal me but was afraid to touch me.
"It will pass," I said in a broken whisper. I wasn't kidding.
"Oh sweetie," she said, breaking into tears as she hugged me and kissed my face. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. It was an accident, sort of." I felt her tears on my face like lukewarm rain that cools as it falls through the atmosphere.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "Honey, I will make it up to you. I will kiss you anywhere you like, and you can lick anything, even my asshole." She pressed her breasts against me. I felt their fullness, and turned to put my arm around her as we lay on the thick carpeting. I held my hand over my still-aching nuts. My gut felt as though I'd been football-tackled in the stomach. My solar plexus thought it was time to heave, and I almost did. She nursed me back with a concerned face and more tears. I kept reassuring her: "It's okay. It's just a thing in the nuts. I'll get over it." I ended up stroking her hair and consoling her. She hovered over me as I lay on my back. She said: "I'm serious, sweetie. You can kiss anything on me. It's all yours. Want to touch my asshole?" I had to admit that the prospect of playing with her asshole intrigued me. I was still learning from my Summers, and they were educating themselves with me. Older women know more, usually, and the more adventurous ones are more skilful. K had shied away from anal play, and I had almost no experience with it, so I was interested in exploring. "I'd like to play with it a little," I said. "If it hurts, tell me and I'll stop."
She pushed my shoulders down. "You rest, honey, and I'll get in position." She rose so that she stood straddling me. "Which way do you want me?"
"I'm not sure. The view from here is great."
She smiled and pushed her thighs apart while opening her labia. "Like that?" I saw the little dot of her pee hole in its swollen button, and the ready hole of her oyster. I nodded. "How about this?" She turned and pulled her ass cheeks apart. I looked at the shadows between them and said: "Closer." She bent over and lowered her rear so that I saw the little pinkish brown star of her sphincter behind the glory of her oyster. "Closer," I said, and she crouched down in a squatting position. "Go easy," she said. "I wonder if I can come when you touch me there."
"I've heard it can arouse a woman." I slapped her buttocks lightly, first one, then the other.
"Am I bad?" she fantasy-asked. I knew the tone of voice.
"I am going to check," I said. I wasn't sure I wanted to play the whore game anymore for the moment. "I think this calls for the doctor game," I said.
She laughed as she squatted over my face with her arms folded on her knees: "Want to play doctor?"
"Yes. I'll be the doctor, and you are the patient." I ran the tip of my index finger up and down her ass crack. She had fine golden hairs all up and down. "You suffer from goose bumps," I said. "Are you cold?"
"No, I'm a little scared. I've never let anyone play with my asshole before."
"You think that's because it is wrong, or because it hurts your sphincter?"
"Well, if I am being bad, then it doesn't matter if it's wrong. I just don't want to tear or hurt my sphincter muscle."
"What if I just put my fingertip in gently, like this?" I licked my fingertip to wet it and then pressed against the little flower. Her sphincter was tighter than a virgin's oyster. "You want me to play with anything I want, because you want to show me that you are really a very nice, sweet girl who didn't mean to almost knock me unconscious by busting me on the balls." "Yes, you can play with anything you want."
"Then how about being a good little girl and going to the bathroom and getting some petroleum jelly or something that we can put in there so it's not dry as the Gobi Desert?"
"I have some cream," she said and swayed off. An underlying little bonus was calling the older woman in my life a little girl. I think it thrilled her, and it thrilled me that it pleased her. She brought a tube of some kind of Swedish sex paste. "I bought that on impulse last year because I get dry lips sometimes. It tastes like peaches and is okay to get in your mouth."
"I understand about the dry lips," I said. "You put this on while you watch TV?" She blushed, and I pulled her close. I whispered in her ear: "I watch you sometimes. You rub your oyster when you see a nice looking man or woman on TV."
"Not woman."
"Oh yes." I continued holding her prisoner in my arms and whispering the shameful truth in her ear. "You like seeing gorgeous women."
"No I don't."
"Then why do you rub yourself harder when those young girls in the sitcom are stalking around on high heels with their titties jiggling?" She couldn't answer. I had no idea what I was saying, only that it turned me on to say it, and I used my fantasy voice to let her know it was okay, it wasn't an accusation, it was maybe just another fantasy game even if maybe it was sort of true. I said: "You're not a lesbian, honey sweetheart, but I think many people have a little tinge of something inbetween."
"You mean bisexual?" she said.
"I'm not putting labels on anything."
"I have never made love to a woman."
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