Opal Andrews - The chamber of pleasures

She won't bother to be sneaky tonight, now that we all know all about [missing text].

There she goes! Through the woods to dear Erik's, the old whore!

And here I go. The airline already has my reservation; I called this afternoon. The plane leaves in two hours, so. I have plenty of time to get there and pay for the ticket. THAT'S why I asked the slut for some cash-type money!

I'll travel light. Just this diary, and the clothes I'm wearing, and the box she had sent from home, with Mother's and Dad's things in it.

Oh, and Erik Parker's raincoat. There isn't a single mark on my body. The raincoat's a sort of… memento!

Johnson City, Tennessee

November 13

Erik,

Surely you didn't expect me to begin a letter to you with "DEAR" Erik, did you? I am typing this because it is easier to make carbons. One goes to your nearby slave, and the other one is for my diary. Remember my diary? It really helped you and Miles and Lois and Aunt Isobel with my initiation, didn't it?

Yes, I am here. I merely stopped off at home to go and see the old house, which now contains a young couple with four children, and my parents graves. And to cash the three cashier's checks in for a bunch of money orders. The M.O.'s I deposited to my account here.

I am writing to let you and your slave and your fellow monsters know that I am alive, extremely well, and shockingly happy. I have just taken a test, which I passed, and am entering college here without having to finish High School. I think I'll like college. I mean, I have a little money, and I love to read, and I'm certainly not stupid. I never was. Just naive.

Besides; there are lots of males on college campuses.

I will major in psychology. There are these four sick people I once knew in Denver, and I'd like to try to get some line on why they're like they are. Doesn't that thought just turn you on?!?

My main reason for writing, though, is to tell you about some of the things I've done. One of them will make you clench and grit your teeth, I'm sure.

It began on the plane. It was a continuation-flight, with lots of people already on board. I wasn't silly enough to pay the extra money for what they call First Class, up there in the front of the plane which is about a third full and helps explain why airlines are losing money. No, I was in back, in Tourist. There were/was one window seat left. I took it, since I wanted to see what the world looks like from a few miles up.

A man sat next to me. A young man… you know, I mean not old and nearly used up, like, you. We talked. He was with some kind of architectural planning company, and was going just where I was going, to meet with the City Council. He was quite nice, quite good looking, and he obviously, thought I was something fine, too. His name was Michael and he said most people called him Red, guess why, but he preferred Michael. I told him that although I'd been called "Tory", I much preferred Vicky.

I told him that I was going home, but only temporarily and would be moving on in a day or two. I told him the truth about Mother and Daddy, that they were dead and I wanted to see their graves.

After a while he said, "Why don't we pretend we're on a date, and let me buy you a drink?"

I laughed and nodded, but was a little disappointed to learn there wasn't any brandy. Just bourbon, Scotch, and blended. He ordered bourbon and 7-Up, so I did, too. I didn't even know what blended was.

The stewardess, brought us our drinks… I think a dollar and a half is pretty expensive… and we put down the little trays on the backof the seats in front of us. I let him pour the whiskey out of the little bottle, and I was careful to sip, it was all right. I prefer brandy. Smile, damn you!

"If we were on a date," I said, remembering what my dates used to be like (you know, you've read the diary), "We'd probably be holding hands, wouldn't we?"

"Probably," he said, and he slid his hand from under his tray to undermine and we held hands. His fingers were nice and warm on my thigh.

We finished the drinks. He asked if I wanted another. I said no, I'd rather wait till we got there and maybe have a brandy, and the stewardess looked at our trays still down when she took the glasses, but she didn't say anything. He asked if I were going to stay with relatives. I told him I didn't have any, although I used to have an aunt. I'd be staying at the Holiday. He said he was, too, squeezing my hand so that his fingers slid along my thigh a little.

"Fine," I said. "If the bar's still open you can buy me a brandy."

The bar wasn't open when we checked in at the Holiday… separately, separately!… but they were glad to send up a bottle of over-priced brandy. He frowned at the price, sort of biting his lip.

"I have plenty of money," I said. "I'll pay for the brandy… and keep what we don't drink, too! Unless you want to pay for the brandy with me sort of thrown in."

He turned his head to look at me. I was so new at being a woman that I had a hard time meeting his gaze. But I did. You'd have been proud of your pupil, Professor Sex. We had the it sent up to my room, and he paid, rather than signed, because he had to turn his receipts in to his company.

We kissed while we waited for it to come up, and he felt me. His hands felt very big and warm on my breasts. So far he'd said nothing about my lack of luggage. After the bottle came he put the chain on the door and we drank one brandy.

It was lovely, all warm in the belly.

He asked if I'd like another and I said yes, which I think didn't make him any too happy, naturally. He was ready for me! While he poured and put ice in the glasses I headed for the bathroom.

"Going to slip into something more comfortable?" he grinned. He had a wide-open redhead's boyish grin that I liked, really liked.

"Silly," I told him, "you know I don't have any luggage."

So I came out of the bathroom wearing just my panties, with my naked boobies jumping and jiggling all over the place, and he dropped a glass of brandy. Laughing, we both got down to clean it up and pick up the ice cubes. While we were down there like that he developed a sincere interest in the big dangling globes of my breasts, which I describe carefully so that you will remember them, with their pale-pink babes and the nipples that get so big so fast.

He got them big, fast. I at last got up nerve to put out my handd to find that he'd got big too, in his fly. He jerked when I felt it, looking very surprised. Then he stood up, sort of pulling me up by my breasts… not painful, because I am supple and rose right along with him. He started undressing.

He hardly had any hair on his chest at all. The red hair around his groin was almost as pale as mine. He held out his arms and I went, and we embraced, naked. I sort of pushed him back into a chair.

"I want to suck your cock," I said.

He went all stiff, then quivery, with his eyes big. His big throbbing erection jumped around in front of him. He was about half in shock, I think, with me leaning over him smiling. But my breasts were swinging down, and he started playing again. I stood there, bending over him with my eyes closed, while he pressed and, fondled them and traced his thumbs over the nipples. He seemed to weigh them in his palms. I moved a little, teasing his mouth with the dangling white pendants of my chest. He nuzzled them with his lips, trying to capture the tips as they brushed over his face. His delighted face.

Standing there, I reached down to fondle his big naked shaft and the soft furry globes beneath. They were tight feeling.

I bent, pulling my breasts regretfully out of his hands, and cupped my lips to his lower stomach. He gasped. I kissed him there, letting him feel a hard suction before sliding my mouth down into the cradle of his groin. He was nice. I wished I had same practice. But as soon as I thought that, it made me remember where I'd had the chance to practice, and I knew I'd rather practice on him.