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8
The blades of the disposable razor moved carefully over tenderized mons, then down labia and around anus, removing five days’ stubble. She didn’t expect anyone would see, but shaving seemed the right thing to do.
Even the slight pressure of the razor was painful. A cock in her cunt or ass would be excruciating. Yet as she touched her body, she remembered how full she had been, and now she was empty. A hollowness waiting to be filled: the first nascent erotic thought of her rebirth.
She removed chipped polish from her fingers and toes and
went back to work.
The firm was located in a converted warehouse in the Gaslamp Quarter and had just over one hundred employees, forty of whom were architects. Carol was on a first name basis with them all, and they all greeted her with the standard polite questions about her days off, without really seeing her or hearing her replies. Only the founding principal and Carol’s boss, Rik Cronin, looked at her carefully--but then he always looked at her carefully--and asked, “Are you ill? You look tired.”
“I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “I didn’t sleep as well in the mountains as I expected.”
“Sometimes vacations are more tiring than work.”
“That’s true.”
If only he knew, she thought, and continued on to her office.
Carefully skirting any act or word that could be legally construed as sexual harassment, Rik had let her know several years ago that he found her attractive, and since Ross had moved to Singapore increasingly found excuses to invite her to ‘business’ lunches in which he let his eyes wander a little too openly and his hands brush against her, accidentally of course, a little too frequently.
Fiftyish, paunchy, married, he was never anyone Carol would have become involved with. But then, she realized, he isn’t any worse than dozens of men who fucked me last weekend.
She was the lead architect on a new research center being built on Torrey Mesa near the UCSD campus and it was good to turn her mind from herself and become absorbed in the details of the project. Yet sometimes when she moved in her chair, or stood, or walked to a conference room or someone else’s office or cubicle, something shifted inside her, bringing discomfort and memory.
As she drove home and made herself a martini that evening, she again felt empty. Increasingly. I need it, she thought. I am one sick bitch. I need it even if it hurts. And then an unexpected thought: especially if it hurts.
…
A day passed.
There are no books on post gangbang etiquette, but he should have called me by now, Carol thought. It had been four days of silence since Brad poured her into her bed. He should have checked to see if I’m all right. Whatever happens, the world will come to an end before I call him.
Another day passed.
She had just returned to her desk from a meeting when the phone rang.
“Hello.”
“My office. Noon.”
Without waiting for a response, he hung up.
…
Tomalin Enterprises occupied two floors of a high rise building only a few blocks away, but she did not feel like walking, so she drove.
Riding the elevator up from underground parking to the thirty-first floor again, her stomach fluttered. What is wrong with me?, she wondered. I’m hardly some teenager on a first date.
Expecting to be shown right in, Carol was nonplussed when his assistant, a silver haired, stylish dressed woman stopped her with, “He’s just finishing up a meeting. Won’t be more than a few minutes.”
Carol sat on a sofa across from the woman’s desk and the wall of solid wood panelling to Brad’s office. She must have spoken to the woman before--was it really only a little over a week?--but had been in such a state that she had no recollection. The name plate on the desk read Amanda Black.
Carol started when the double doors to Brad’s office opened. Three men came out. One of them grinned at her knowingly as he passed.
Brad stood waiting. She walked into the office, then stopped uncertain.
Closing the doors, he crossed the room and sat in one of the armchairs. After straightening the crease in his trousers, he said, “Let’s see it.”
That’s what he said before: ”Show it to me.” It. What did I expect--tenderness?
He didn’t speak again until she was naked.
“My. My.” Then, “Turn around. Slowly.”
With her back to him, she was looking out the glass side of the building south across the bay and Coronado to Mexico and the Pacific Ocean.
“Come over here.”
When she was standing in front of him, “Closer.” He parted his legs and she knew to drop to her knees.
She winced when he reached for her breasts, but he only cupped them, letting their weight rest in his palms.
“Take it out.”
Leaning forward she fumbled with his zipper. He had to lean back and help her. His cock sprung free. Pre-come leaking from the tip pleased her. He is not as cold and detached as he acts, Carol thought. Aroused by the proof he wanted her and by the thought of being naked before him--I’m always naked in this office, she thought. And I always will be. There is no other reason for me to be here-- she wrapped her hand around the shaft. It was too big. She wanted it; but it would hurt too much. “I’m very sore. Please be gentle.”
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
“No?”
“No. You’re just here to give me a blowjob.”
She caught the ‘just.‘ A delivery girl. A commodity. Like ordering a pizza or sandwiches to be sent in for lunch. Today I think I’ll have a blowjob.
She felt herself become wetter at the thought of being a call girl used merely to serve his pleasure. Too bad. I don’t care if I leak all over his carpet. And she bent and licked the salty pre-come from the tip of his cock before engulfing it with her mouth.
In silence broken only by the wet sounds of her lips sliding up and down, only his hard flesh told her he was excited . He could have been reading a newspaper or looking at a computer screen--and the time would come when he would be--until finally he said, “Lick my balls.”
“That’s good. Now suck one into your mouth. Keep stroking my cock with your hand...Now the other. That’s good. Run your tongue from the base of my cock to the tip. Open the hole. Lick there. Down again.”
His hands left her breasts and moved to each side of her head.
“I want you to take it all. We know you can.”
“My throat is sore,” she protested.
“I expect it is.” He pulled her face down.
When the tip touched something in the back of her mouth, she winced, gagged, and instinctively tried to pull away. His hands were too strong. Even as she struggled futilely, she responded to being overpowered by that strength. “Open your throat and relax. This is going to happen.” And it did. The glans of his cock slipped past a final obstacle and her lips touched public hair.
He held her there motionless. She could not breathe, but he didn’t care. Or perhaps he did and that is exactly what he wants, Carol thought. “Move your tongue.” She tried. Apparently it was enough. “Good.” And slowly he let her head rise until his cock slipped out and she gasped for air. “Again.” Before she had fully regained breath, he pulled her all the way down.
This time he held her even longer and she fought her impulse to struggle until he finally let her up.
“You were drooling on my pants.”
Gasping. “I...I thought I was...going to pass out. Would you…”
“Have let that happen? Maybe. I want you to know how totally I own you. Even the air you breath. Now suck. I’m not through yet.”
Dutifully she bent forward. “Tighten your lips and actually suck. Let me feel more tongue. Caress my balls with your hand. That’s good. Take it a little deeper. You don’t have to go all the way down. Good. Good. Keep that rhythm.”
Sucking, bobbing head. Heavy breasts swaying. The weave of the carpet against knees.
“I was going to send a photo to your husband, but I’ve decided not to. This one will just between us. I like the idea that he doesn’t know you’re being used at this moment. Look at me. I want to see it in your eyes. Ahh. There.”
She tasted the first spurt, before unexpectedly he pulled out. “Keep your mouth open. Stick out your tongue.” Obediently she did and he shot most of his load there where she tasted it, before directing the final spurts onto her face. She felt a splatter just below her right eye and another lower, beside her mouth. He thrust his cock back in. “Lick it clean.”
“No don’t wipe your face. Wear it to your car.”
Incredulously, “You don’t mean in the elevator?”
He didn’t bother to reply and said as she started to pick up her clothes. “Leave your undergarments. No bra, panties, pantyhose in my presence again unless I give you specific permission.”
When she had on her dress and shoes, “Come and look at yourself.”
Carol followed him into his private bathroom. It was as unmistakable as she feared. A droplet dangled from her chin.
“You look quite beautiful.”
Just as she was at the door, Brad said, “Ravi sent me his test results. I told him he can use you three times a week. But only your mouth and ass. Not your cunt.”
“I’m so sore.”
“Maybe he won’t call you tonight.”
But they both knew he would.
“I’m going to be out of town for a couple of days. Have duplicates made of your condo keys. You can leave them with Mrs. Black.”
Against her hopes, but as she expected Brad had deliberately arranged, Mrs. Black was at her desk and gave a cheery, “Have a nice afternoon, Mrs. Edwards,” as Carol passed.
No one else was waiting for the elevator, and no one was on it when it came. Carol moved to the center of the car and stood there straight, her head held high. She was what she was. She would not try to hide.
On the 27th floor, the car stopped and three chattering women instantly fell silent when they saw her. As did everyone else who entered the elevator on the long way down.
Carol drove from the dark parking levels out in the sunlight, feeling come drying on her skin. She didn’t wipe her face until she was back in her own office parking lot.
…
She lingered late at work, not wanting to go home, which no longer offered refuge.
It was strange not to be wearing underwear in her office. She felt her breasts move more freely, and hoped no one else did, and at times a breath of air caressed her bare pussy. The taste of sperm lingered in her mouth. That she had just come from one cock and was moving toward another kept her wet. She hoped she was not leaving a spot on her dress. Sex was not just the occasional evening or the weekends with Ross any more. Sex was noon in Brad’s office. Probably this evening with Ravi in the condo. Sex was becoming her life.
The telephone would ring, or even worse there would be a knock on her door. She could simply tell Ravi to get stuffed; but she knew she wouldn’t. She’d already exposed herself to him. Let him squeeze her breasts. Know that she was going to be gangbanged. He would only do to her what countless men had done in Julian; yet because she knew him personally made it different. More humiliating. That he was living and sleeping in the same building, just a floor away, that he could claim her at any time. Three times a week, Brad had said. How had he decided on that? And only her mouth and ass. She was to be used to give pleasure without receiving it. A convenient hole. Holes. She felt herself becoming wetter.
Finally she drove home and was grateful that at least she did not bump into him in the elevator.
Quickly she made herself a strong gin and tonic, which she carried through the sliding glass doors onto the balcony; but after taking two gulps, she put down the heavy crystal double old-fashioned glass, and went and took a shower. Why am I cleaning myself up for that little creep?, she asked herself; but knew that she wanted to be desired. She liked the power of her beauty. Although she had complained to Ross about the way Ravi snuck glances at her around the swimming pool, secretly she had reveled in the lust she aroused and could deny. Now she couldn’t. She could no longer say, “No.” She wondered what kind of cock he had and almost came as she ran the bar of soap between her legs.
Drying off she had to decide what to wear. Something easy to take off, and she recalled thinking in Brad’s office that that would become a priority. She settled for a loose sundress. Not bothering with underwear. I may save money there. Implication made touching up her lipstick an erotic act. She walked barefoot back to the balcony and her unfinished drink.
Being there made her think of Ross. She frowned. He wasn’t much in her thoughts these days. Her cell phone rang.
“Hello, Ravi.”
“Yes. It is, isn’t it? Ravi. I mean me.” His voice was pitched high and the words nervously fast.
“I’ll come down.” She didn’t want to have sex with him in her place, and then she remembered Brad telling her to give him keys.
“Yes. Yes. That is good. Very go--”
She closed her cell phone mid-word. She had to fuck him. She didn’t have to chat.
Slipping on a pair of loafers--they weren’t sexy but they wouldn’t be on long; she would make this fast--she automatically checked her appearance in the mirror opposite the front door. Vanity. Vanity. Thy name is Carol.
Ravi lived on the fourth floor. She took the stairs down.
She had never been to his unit before.
On the door was a heavy brass knocker shaped in the head of the monkey god, Hanuman. Ravi opened at the first tap.
“Oh, yes. Yes. Come in. Come in.”
His unit was laid out exactly like hers and Ross’s but faced north. The furnishings were a mix of Indian and IKEA. A camera on a tripod stood pointing toward the sofa.
Ravi was wearing baggy khaki shorts, Birkenstock sandals, and a short sleeved white dress shirt. Indicating the camera, Ravi said apologetically, “Brad wants a picture. That is all right, is it? Then, “Please sit. A drink? Wine? A cocktail?”
Who knows what the old Carol would have done? she thought. The old Carol wouldn’t be here. But the new Carol, turned and faced him as he danced toward the kitchen and said, “We both know why I’m here.” He stopped dead as she pulled the hem of her dress up over her head, and he collapsed onto the sofa as she tossed it aside and kicked off her loafers.
“Oh. What have they done to you?” he cried.
In a wide mirror behind him she caught sight of herself. She had forgotten about her bruises. They were old news.
“They fucked me senseless. That is what they did.”
She twirled slowly, displaying all the lascivious marks , enjoying his shock.
“Why do you let them do this? Who is this Brad? What hold does he have on you? Is he blackmailing you? I will help.”
She laughed. “You will help blackmail me?”
“No. No. That is not. I will help you.”
“I do not need help. Or maybe I do. But not that way. I’m not being blackmailed. No one has done anything to me that I did not want. And you are no better. You want to do the same.”
In two steps she was in front of him and dropped to her knees for the second time that day. She half-smiled as in her mind she heard, “On my knees again” to the melody of Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again.”
“You are so beautiful.” Ravi’s voice was plaintive. “Like some goddess or movie star. I always dreamed. But you were so far above me. Unobtainable. I never thought it would happen. I had no idea that you were…”
Carol’s tanned fingers were the exact shade of Ravi’s skin as they unbuckled his belt and pulled off his shorts. Beneath were a pair of clean white boxers. He changed for me. How sweet. And beneath them a bigger and blacker cock than she had expected on his frail frame.
Leaning forward she rubbed her nipples against it, then formed a tunnel between her breasts.
“Ohhhhh.”
She slid her breasts up and down a few times. Her first black man, black men, had been during the gangbang. Ravi wasn’t black, but his cock was. She liked the contrast of the hard dark column between her pale breasts. She saw the reflection in the mirror. On my knees in front of a man. About to suck another cock. Until last Friday she had never been with two men in one day. And not for love. Like some slave or whore. Her second client of the day. She could service more, and expected that she soon would. She shifted so that her pussy pressed down on the heel of her right foot and moaned.
The moment her head lowered and her lips wrapped around his cock, Ravi screamed and came. Gushers. An unending stream and scream that surely would be heard by the neighbors. What did she care? They didn’t know she was the one in there with him. Then, defiantly, what if they did?
Carol Edwards swallowed and swallowed and finally, sperm and scream trickled to a stop.
Ravi’s head was thrown back as Carol stood and retrieved her dress.
He looked up in amazement, and embarrassment. “I have never...I have thought of you for so long. For years. Imagined making love to you. And all this weekend I thought of you having sex with all those men. I did not really believe that Brad person, but I arranged to be tested first thing Monday morning. I do not understand…” Then something shifted. Carol felt a momentary chill as his eyes narrowed, hardened, “Next time I will last longer.”
----------
To: Ross Edwards
From: the office of Brad Tomalin
Subject: good neighbors
Attachment: IMG_1091.jpeg
Involuntarily, Ross Edwards spoke aloud: “Not Ravi, too?”
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