The Children of Hamelin (30 page)

She ran her tongue slowly in a circle around the rim of her lips and part of me wanted to leap on her right then and there and pour myself into her; but no, this was her trip, and we’d do it her way.

“Our third time,” she said, sticking the pipe in my mouth and holding a match over it. “First time was a waste... second time you did for me... and now I’m going to do for you...”

I took a long, deep drag. The hash flowed down my throat like lovely warm syrup. Deep inside me below my waist, a huge chime started to sound.

“I’m gonna do you all over gonna eat you drink you smoke you gobble you up....”

Trembling, I leaned over, placed the pipe on the floor and let the charge of hash permeate every cell in my body. Arlene, my uptight chick—gloriously stoned out of her flaming fucking mind!

“Touch...” she said, and placed a forefinger lightly on each of my nipples. Electricity ran from her fingers down my body, twin currents that met and exploded in sparks at the root of my cock. She sank slowly to her knees and touched the wet tip of her tongue to my navel; a spasm went through my groin and I moaned, blowing thick sweet smoke into her coppery hair.

She ran her hands slowly down my flanks, like butterflies barely skimming my skin, rested them on the curve of my ass.

“Skin,” she whispered. And rose to her feet. And leaned forward slightly so that her nipples were two tiny points of flesh-to-flesh merging on my bare chest. She brought her face close to mine—

And kissed me, parting my lips with the smooth warm muscle of her own, and her tongue seemed to pour into me, a stream of sweetness without end, filling me to the delicious edge of choking, her juices mingling with mine and—

Her hands were suddenly deep, deep beneath the cheeks of my ass, caressing the defenseless softness of my balls from behind. I moaned into her mouth as my knees started to go rubbery.

Her mouth left mine and moved slowly down my chin to the base of my neck, gliding along a trail of its own wetness—and I screamed from deep inside in a total pain-to-pleasure whiteout as she bit me hard on the shoulder and her nails dug into the soft flesh of my ass.

“Blood...” she whispered hoarsely, and sinking to her knees, she ran her mouth down my chest and belly to the brink of my pubic beard.

She stared wide-eyed, mouth-open, at the burning crown of my cock and cupped my balls in warm gentle palms. My legs started to shake; then every muscle in my body was vibrating.

“Balls,” she crooned, “sweet soft lovely balls.” She held them to her mouth and explored every scrotal wrinkle with the fullness of her tongue.

“Jesus! Oh Jesus!”

Huge green animal eyes stared up at me....”Cock!” she cried, “Cock! Cock! Cock!”

We both moved at once. She took my cock in both hands and opened her mouth wide, wide, lips pulsing, tongue rolling, and every ounce of my flesh seemed to pour into her as she devoured me, and my knees gave way and I slumped forward, the hardness of my chest onto the silken skin of her back, and the universe became a hot wet vacuum of willing flesh sucking at the root of me spread-eagled on her body my hips thrusting forward will of their own forward and forward and forward and a pain sharp as my pleasure mingled with it as nails bit into the flesh of my ass and the world exploded in spasm after spasm of hot black fire!

Out of a well of black velvet, I seemed to drift slowly upright, borne above myself on a foam of warmth. Even the mere opening of eyes sent tremors of sexual ecstasy through me as I looked down and saw my still-enormous cock glide slowly and gently out of her mouth. She looked up at me, eyes shining behind heavy lids, her cheeks puffed out slightly with my seed.

Then she smiled at me, raised her face to the ceiling, closed her eyes, and swallowed deeply. And ran her tongue around her lips like a cat lapping up the last drop of cream.

Oooooooh! My mind blew all the way to the far side of her moon, and every fibre of my being became a torch burning the image of her love to the back of my brain, and I—

Reached out for her shoulders, tipped her over onto her back, clutched at her ankles and hoisted her legs high in the air, then back in an arc so that the tips of her toes nearly touched the floor alongside her ears. I plunged love’s burning spear deep, deep, deep down into her, thrusting down, down, down, seeking to burn myself into the core of her being and set it aflame....

“Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she screamed and screamed and screamed as I thrust deeper and deeper and deeper, spreading her legs wider and wider and wider, splitting her essence and filling it with my own, and when her body exploded a half-beat ahead of me, her teeth sunk into my shoulder like red-hot fangs and my lungs-cock-being whited out in a huge pleasure-pain scream...

And she buried her head against my chest as I collapsed onto her and we panted wordlessly into each other’s ears as my mind went blank, totally, incredibly, wonderfully blank for ten million years...

“...cold....” I could feel her lips murmuring against my chest.
Cold?
Chick must be crazy: I felt ten thousand degrees of tropical night warmth, felt like a huge featherbed drifting off on a bloodheat cloud of sweet immobility secure in the proper center of the universe her moist flesh warm against me breathing the sighs of equatorial seas.
Cold?

“...cold... so cold....”

Oh what a drag... possible that the sweet warmth that enveloped me was leached from her body by mine? I didn’t want to budge from the delicious floor; my every muscle seemed set in maximum pleasure position so that any shift, the least move, would destroy perfection. Over on the edge of the table was my coat.... If I could reach it without moving....

I stretched my right arm out to full length—a pain in my shoulder protested and every muscle said what the fuck you doing—but I was six inches short. I leaned the mass of my body into my arm-extension-bones creaking, pleasure-receptors disturbed from the optimum they had reached—got my fingers on the coat, pulled it off the table and across the floor, draped it over Arlene’s bare back and let my muscles sink back into maximum repose beneath her weight.

“...cold—” Her body stirred against me, the motion like a thousand tiny charleyhorses. Damn! Wish we had done it in bed so we could lay like sleeping logs together for about ten years. But the bed was a million miles of motion away. Shit!

“...ooooooh—” Now she was groaning an awful hangover-groan. The outside universe was slowly seeping back into my consciousness: I was still stoned, but laying on a hard floor with Arlene writhing most unsexually against my chest. Memory of what we had done about a century ago drifted through my head in fragments like someone else’s dream. Jesus! It had been incredible: a fuck so pure and totally mindless it was beyond memory’s recall. Images of memory, film-perfect, flashed on a screen in my head, but I couldn’t imagine us as the actors in the film or what I had felt except that it had been totally, amorally delicious, like places inside us that never existed before had taken command as if it had been hash loving hash.

Arlene lifted her face from my chest. Her eyes met mine and seemed to shrivel to prunes; she shifted her head so that her ear rested on my chest and her eyes looked off into the far corner of the room, not meeting mine. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Oh God... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry—”

“Sorry?”
What was she raving about?

“Oh how you must hate me! Oooh... disgusting animal....” I felt her body spasm against me, drawing up into a fetal ball under the coat. What’s going on?

I reached up, cupped her chin in both hands, lifted her face towards me. Her eyes were drawn inward, defended by a deep frown, her lips puckered in a grimace of disgust.

“What’s the matter, baby? Why on Earth should I hate you?”

“What I did... oh God what I did....” She touched the bloody bruise at the back of my neck and cringed. “I hurt you... I didn’t know what I was doing... oh... how could I be such an animal...? Oooh...”

Jesus, was she going to freak out
now?
What was the matter with her? I wished I wasn’t so damned stoned so I could figure out what strange worms were wriggling behind her fish-cold eyes.

I tightened my grip on her chin, shook her. Her flesh felt dead in my hands. “Snap out of it!” I said as sharply as I could manage. “What’s the matter, baby?”

Her eyes seemed to come back into focus, but they were like two chips of cold green glass. “Oh Tom,” she whispered, “how can you stand to look at me?”

“Why not? You’re beautiful.” I tried to kiss her on the lips; her flesh seemed to crawl under mine and she pulled her face away. I let go her chin. She let her head fall to my chest propped up on the point of her chin and looked at me as if she were trying to frighten off private demons with the vision of my face.

“You never went down on anyone before?”

“No... no... oooh... like an animal....”

Oh Christ, why did she have to ruin something beautiful with all this goddamn stupid thinking? Maybe it was just because she was stoned...? Yeah, yeah, thing to do was to get her to sleep it off; maybe in the morning I could make some sense to her, but it was hopeless now.

“Let’s get some sleep and forget about it,” I said. “Things’ll look different in the morning, I promise—”

“Sleep...?”

“Yeah, you know,
sleep.
When you wake up, the world’ll look different.”

“Yes... sleep... I want to sleep... forget... oooh....”

And she wrapped the coat around her and refused to look at my naked body and we got in bed together in the dark. Under the covers, she curled up into a ball and was almost instantly asleep, with her back turned to me.

It wasn’t easy, but we managed not to say a word to each other until we were sitting at the table in the living room over coffee—the alarm had rung and she had bolted out of bed before I could even get my eyes open; and by the time I had got out of bed she was dressed and through in the bathroom, avoiding me as she fussed with the coffee-pot; and by the time I had shaved and gotten my work suit on, my coffee was waiting on the living room table and she was sipping hers, staring deep down into its muddy depths as I sat down beside her. I tried to kid myself that she had just been doing a groovy domestic number—but I didn’t get very far. The poor chick just couldn’t face me, is all.

“You okay?” were the first words I was able to say to her.

She stared down into the coffee. “I’m all right,” she said coldly. “My God, what you must think of me after last night....”

“I really don’t understand any of this. What in blazes do you think I think?”

She finally looked up at me. Her eyes were points of fear hiding behind her glasses, her face seemed to cringe. She looked like someone waiting to be hit. I took a long drink of coffee and started to feel almost human.

“I acted like a filthy animal,” she said. “I don’t see how you can stand to look at me.”

“Do you think you’re the first girl that ever sucked a cock?” I said harshly, trying to gross my way through to her.

Her mouth puckered, as if the coffee had suddenly turned to semen in her mouth. She shuddered. “It... it... it’s not what I did,” she muttered, “it’s... the way I did it. I was out of my mind... I feel so....”

“Maybe just
different?”
I suggested.

Her face relaxed just a little. “Yes,” she said. “I... I don’t feel like the me I was before last night.”

“Is that really so terrible?”

She stared at me with huge eyes that seemed on the verge of tears. “I... You mean you don’t...? I don’t...?”

“Disgust me? Why should you? I enjoyed it. You enjoyed it. What’s the problem?”

She looked down into the coffee again. “But the way I was... I’ve never been like that before... I felt like... sucking you up... like... like....”

“You were just turned on all the way for the first time.”

“Like an animal...”

“We’re not carrots, you know.”

Still not daring to look at me again, she said: “I really don’t disgust you now? You’re not just trying to be a gentlemen?”

I touched my hand to her cold, dry cheek. “Baby,” I said, “I love you for last night. You were really you, and it was groovy.”

“But the hashish—”

“Is just a chemical! Arlene stoned is still Arlene.”

She looked up at me, started to move her hand towards mine, dropped it back in her lap. “I feel so different,” she said. “Like there are things inside of me I didn’t know were there, maybe things that shouldn’t be there... things that would make you hate me if you saw them...”

“Just the other way around. We opened up to each other. We shared something very private. Dig: you’re not going to discuss last night in group, are you?”

A horrified grimace.

“Well, see? Last night isn’t something bad, between us it’s something good, something only the two of us can share. That’s what sex should be between two people who care for each other.”

Her hand came up and touched my hand touching her cheek. “You make me feel so strange,” she said. Then she looked at me, smiled hesitantly, then kissed me very lightly on the lips.