34
THE ART OF SEDUCTION
Off came his Bear Whizz Beer T-shirt. He pulled it up his torso and over his head. While his eyes were behind the T-shirt, I stuffed the cassette tape underneath the pillow.
As he tossed the shirt aside, I braced myself up on my elbows so I could see him better.
He was slim and nicely built, and had a good tan.
Still in his shorts, he planted a knee on the mattress and got ready to climb up.
“Why don’t you get rid of the shorts?” I said.
“Huh?” he asked.
“And how come you’re wearing swimming trunks? You don’t even have a pool.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“Well, take them off.”
More flustered than usual, he said, “I don’t…I’m not wearing any…you know, underwear.”
“Good. Take off the trunks and get up here.”
“You gonna look?”
“Of course I’m gonna look.”
“Do you have to?” he asked.
“You’re some rapist.”
“I’m not a rapist.”
“Are you a virgin?”
“No,” he said. “It’s just that…we hardly even know each other.”
“You’ve already seen plenty of me,” I informed him. “And you’re about to see the rest. So let’s have a look at you.”
“Well…”
“When do you plan to stop blushing?”
“Sometime next year, I should imagine.” Bending over, he pulled down his trunks. When he stood up straight, they were out of sight. “There,” he said.
“Wow,” I said.
He gave me a twitchy, embarrassed smile.
“Get up here,” I said.
“Just a second, I’d better grab a condom.”
“No, don’t. You’re raping me. I need your semen for evidence. You can’t use a rubber.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“It’s the whole point.”
He looked hurt.
So I said, “Well, it was the whole point, anyway. Before you got me all worked up like this.” Squirming a little and staring him in the eyes, I undid both the buttons that held my skirt together at the hip. I spread the skirt open. I still had my panties on, but nothing else. There was about as much to my panties as a pirate’s eyepatch. The band and patch were red like my bra. “I’ve still gotta have the evidence,” I explained.
He gaped at me for a while, his mouth hanging open. Then he said, “We really need to use protection.”
“I won’t get pregnant. You don’t have to worry about that. I just finished my period.” A fib, but so what?
You should’ve seen him go red. Guys really hate to hear about your period. Normal guys, anyway. Perverts are a different story. I knew this pervert named Jack, and he used to keep track of my time of the month so he could…Never mind. I can’t tell every story I know, or you’d never find out what happened between me and Murphy. Anyway, believe me, you don’t want to know about Jack. He was mental.
Murphy, still on the subject of condoms, said, “It’s not just about you getting pregnant.”
“I know. You’re worried about diseases.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have any?” I asked.
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“I still think we’d better…”
“Don’t you believe me?” I asked. “You think I’m lying?”
“You might be. Hell, you’re afraid I’ll turn you in the minute I get alone. Why can’t I be afraid you’ll give me AIDS and kill me?”
“I haven’t been with a guy in about five years,” I told him. “I don’t shoot up drugs. I haven’t had any blood transfusions. And I’ve had annual check-ups. I’m not gonna give you any disease.”
“Five years?” he asked.
“I’ve been saving myself for you.”
He smiled and said, “Right.”
“By the look of things, it was well worth the wait.”
“Thanks, but I still want to use a condom.” He turned away and walked toward his dresser.
“Come on, no. I want to feel you in me.”
As he pulled open a drawer, he looked over his shoulder at me.
“You wear one of those,” I said, “it’s like getting f*cked by a balloon.”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “It’s not much better from this end, believe me.” Then he started searching through the drawer. “Maybe after we’ve known each other longer…”
“Next time, I’ll bring a note from my doctor. If there is a next time.”
“I hope there will be,” Murphy said.
I said, “Me, too.”
Then I pulled the skirt out from under me and pushed it aside until it fell to the floor. On my back, I brought my knees up to my chest and peeled my panties off.
Murphy found what he was looking for, turned around and came back toward the bed with a foil packet pinched between his thumb and forefinger.
“Would you like me to do the honors?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“If you have to wear it, I might as well get the fun of putting it on you.”
“Okay. If you want to.”
Sitting up, I swung myself around. I sat on the edge of the bed, my feet on the floor. “Right here.” I spread my knees and patted the side of the mattress.
Murphy stepped in between my legs.
“Man, look at that thing.”
He glanced at it and shrugged.
“Looks like a cannon.”
Blushing deep red, he muttered, “No it doesn’t.”
“Hope it doesn’t go off by accident.”
“Hey.”
“Might blow out my eye.”
“Jeez.”
I grinned up at him. “What?”
“Do you have to talk about it?”
“Just admiring the equipment.”
“Do you have to?”
“I don’t have to.”
“It’s just…sort of embarrassing.”
“Okay. I’ll stop talking about it.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“Me and my big mouth,” I said.
“That’s all right.”
“But are you sure you want to cover this baby up with a nasty old rubber?”
“That’s the only way I’ll…yeah. I’m afraid so. Sorry.”
“Okay. It’s a shame, but if you insist…”
“I do.”
“Okay. Well, give me that thing.”
He handed the packet to me. I tore it open and pulled out the condom. It felt warm and slimy. “Yuck,” I said. “I really want this in me. What is it, used?”
“Just pre-lubricated.”
“I know, I know. I was kidding. But yuck. I mean, really.”
“We don’t have to do this,” he said, and placed his hands gently on my shoulders.
“Don’t have to use the rubber?”
“Not if we call the whole thing off.”
I looked up at him. “Do you want to call it off?” I asked.
“Do I look like it?”
“Hardly.”
He started to rub my shoulders. And kept rubbing them as I leaned forward.
But it wasn’t the condom I put on him.
It was my mouth.
He gasped and arched his back and squeezed my shoulders. But he didn’t complain or try to pull back.
Dropping the condom, I clutched his buttocks. I dug my fingernails in, drew him closer to me and slid my lips down his thick shaft, taking him into my mouth until no more could fit in.
He stood rigid and moaned.
I pulled slowly back, sucking as I went.
He shuddered.
I squeezed his buttocks and went down again, my lips a tight, sliding ring.
“Don’t. Uh. Y’better stop.”
Up again, pulling at him, sucking.
“Ahhh!”
Down, taking him in deeper and deeper.
“No, y’gotta…I’m gonna…!”
I jerked my head up suddenly and he popped out of my mouth with a wet slurp. I tugged his ass. As he stumbled toward me, I shoved at the floor with my feet, springing up from the mattress and wrapping my arms around his back.
He fell forward, trapped between my thighs. I fell backward, pulling him down on top of me.
On the way down, he prodded my right thigh so I shifted a bit to take care of the aim.
My back hit the mattress.
And in he went.
He was awfully big, but I was juicy.
Pre-lubricated.
He went sliding in all the way. It felt huge, but I liked how it filled me and stretched me. I hugged him tightly and clamped my legs around him.
Grunting, he tried to push himself off me.
For about two seconds.
Then, with a moan, he kissed me and shoved his tongue into my mouth and jammed a hand in between us and grabbed one of my breasts and thrust at me with his hips and throbbed deep inside me, spurting.
“So much for condoms,” I whispered.
I held him hard against me.
The moment he finished pumping, though, he started to struggle so I let him go. He didn’t have any mattress under his knees. As he squirmed backward, he no sooner got out of me than he slid off the edge of the bed.
Raising my head, I found Murphy on his knees. He was red and gasping, and had a dazed look in his eyes.
He still had his glasses on and they’d gotten knocked crooked.
I gave him a cheerful smile.
“That was a…lousy trick,” he said.
“I thought it was a good trick. Hell, so did you. You loved it. You went nuts.”
He shook his head, glanced between my legs, then turned his head away and straightened his glasses.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” I told him. “I didn’t give you anything—expect maybe the quickest, hottest f*ck of your life.”
“I wanted to use a condom.”
“I didn’t. And you didn’t need one.”
“I sure hope not,” he said, and stood up.
He was sticking straight out as if pointing at something across the room.
“Wanta do it again?” I asked.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
He glanced at me, looked away, then turned to me again and stared at my sprawled, naked body.
“How about it, big fella?”
Though he frowned as if angry at me, he was rising. “You’re a real piece of work,” he said.
“Yep.” Writhing, I rubbed my breasts and licked my lips. “How about another piece?”
His smile broke out. “Don’t you think I’d better get to the bank?”
“Don’t you want to rape me again?”
“Who raped who?”
I laughed. “You loved it. And you’d love to do it again, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t you want me to get the money?”
“Yeah. Sure. I want the money, but…”
“Then I’d better go.”
“Okay. But first you have to tie me up.”
“Tie you up?”
“Of course. I’m your prisoner.”
“That’s crazy.”
“If you call the cops on me, I want them to find me naked and tied to your bed.”
“I’m not going to call the cops.”
“This’ll be my insurance. Now, go find some ropes or something, okay?”
After Midnight
Richard Laymon's books
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