Ann Griffin - Skin summer

"Close the door," she said.

He closed it and turned to them. "What's the matter?" But he knew what it was about without asking any questions. Jenny Sansom was crying, holding a Kleenex up to her small face, but looking at him around the edges of it.

"Is what she says true?" Linda asked. Her face was set in hard lines that he had never seen before.

"What does she say?" he asked.

Linda pushed Jenny into a chair, then came back to face him. "She didn't come into the office this morning. I didn't think much about it until a little before eleven. Then I went down to her cabin. She was so upset it took twenty minutes for me to find out what she was saying."

"Which was?" Sam asked.

"That you broke in last night and raped her."

"That's what she said?"

"Is she telling the truth?" Linda leaned toward him, belligerent now, demanding.

"Not exactly," he said.

"But you did fuck her?"

Linda slapped him hard, twice. Her palm print remained on each of his cheeks. "Get out before supper. Pack up, go into town, and then keep going."

"Jenny," he said to the little woman sitting behind Linda.

"Don't go near her," Linda snapped. "She was right about you." She tried to slap his face again, but he grabbed her wrists, twisted her arm, and pitched her sideways onto the couch. He bent next to Jenny Sansom, took her hands away from her face.

"Stop it!" Linda snarled.

"Oh, shut up," Sam said disgustedly. "You either didn't get the entire story or she didn't tell it plainly enough."

"What do you mean?"

He traced the line of Jenny's delicate jaw with his fingers. "You reacted to me, Jenny. It wasn't rape."

"You would have killed me," she said.

"Not at all. You knew better. You climaxed, Jenny. More than once. You liked it. You made it."

"No," she said, trying to look miserable.

"What are you trying to do to her?" Linda asked.

"I told you to shut up."

"But…"

"Shut up!"

And she did.

He turned his attention back to Jenny. "Look at me, Jenny." When she faced him, he took her chin in one hand and kissed her lightly on the lips. She didn't object. When his tongue penetrated her mouth, she tried to pull away for only a moment. Tentatively, then, her own tongue slid between his teeth. "You're lovely," he said, breaking the kiss. "You're as good as any women. You can enjoy it like any woman. You were too tight. Something hung you up, lover." He continued the kiss, his hands falling to her breasts, squeezing them gently.

"I'll be damned," Linda said.

He opened Jenny's blouse and took out her breasts, shoving her bra above them. He rolled the nipples in his palm, and they grew stiff. Then she had her arms around him, crying, but with happiness. Carefully, he pulled away her blouse, unhooked and removed her bra.

"I guess I should leave," Linda said.

"Stay," he told her.

"The three of us?" Jenny asked, her voice trembling.

"Yes," he said. "It shouldn't matter. We love each other, at least a little. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

Gently, he removed the rest of Jenny's clothes, then his own. When the three of them were naked, he drew Jenny to the floor, directed her to stretch out. He moved his head over her crotch, went down on her. His tongue found her feminine perfume, lapped it. The smell of her made his already stiff organ jerk.

"I want in on this," Linda said.

He nodded. "Jenny, sit in the chair. I can eat out from there."

When she was in the chair, he knelt before her and tongued her pretty hole. Linda stretched under him and took his bloated cock in her mouth, began working on him. Jenny looked down, amazed as the stiff meat probed her female lover's mouth. When she had come, she said, "Can I suck you?"

He grinned. "I think that can be arranged."

They all moved to the floor, in a rough ring. Jenny slipped his pecker into her mouth. Her eyes went wide when she found how big it was. Then she worked with it, trying to please him, her little cheeks full of his meat, ballooned out.

Next in line was Linda. His face was between her legs, and he sucked at the button of her clit, had her squirming and cooing. Linda, completing the daisy chain, had her face in Jenny's crotch, was performing lesbian love on her.

Jenny whimpered. "God, God, God…" Then she attacked Sam's root with more vigor than ever.

He raised his head, using his fingers to work on Linda, and looked around at the tangle of arms and legs, the fiercely working mouths and organs. Flesh slid over flesh; bodies bucked and jumped as the right nerves were licked, pinched, sucked; legs kicked; hips writhed; Linda's breasts quivered, one flattened against the floor. Sam realized that this was different. This was not the same sort of sex he was accustomed to. For one thing, there was no profit motive. He was not trying to bind either of these women to him, not any more. Furthermore, he was not only trying to get pleasure himself – but to give it for the sake of giving. He wanted to please Linda and Jenny. Not to collect money from them later, but for the sheer joy of pleasing them. It was a totally new experience for him, and he marveled at it as he lowered his head back to Linda's hole and made love to her with his mouth.

In a moment, she came, and he followed, quickly, blasting his heavy load far into Jenny's mouth. The little woman gagged, but continued to suck, swallowing the gooey juice until he had no more to offer her, until he was bone dry in his bone.

When they had finished and were depleted, they laid together on the floor, idly fondling one another, thrilling to the sweet softness of each other's genitals, of each others muscles and flesh. Eventually, the conversation drifted to Jenny, to the change in her. Both Sam and Linda were curious about why she had never been able to make it with men before, and slowly, in pieces, the story came out of her…

Jenny Sansom's family had immigrated to the United States four years before she was born. She became a citizen, actually, before her parents. Her father owned a small grocery in Philadelphia, a hole-in-the-wall place that had a delicatessen section and supported them mildly well only because the old man kept it open twelve hours a day, seven days a week to catch even the smallest purchase. Jenny was the last born of the four Sansom children and grew up in the grocery and the apartment above it where the family lived.

When she was four, two of her older siblings died from food poisoning. She had become terribly ill, but somehow had survived the ordeal. The only children in the Sansom family now were Jenny and her brother Peto, who was six years older. Her mother and father had made a great show of tears and anguish at the deaths of the others, had hardly been able to bear the funeral. Yet Jenny was always somewhat certain they actually were relieved that the number of mouths to be fed and the number of bodies to be clothed had been so drastically reduced.

When she was seven years old, Jenny was a lovely little girl with dark skin and big, dark eyes. (At this point, both Sam and Linda interrupted to say that she was still lovely.) She was a precocious child, and a very inquisitive one. Everyone said what an attractive girl she would grow up to be. But then things changed for her…

She had gotten into a pie which was to be reserved for supper, a peach pie that her mother had made that morning and had put into the refrigerator before lunch with the warning that it was not to be touched until she cut it herself at supper. For the first part of the afternoon, Jenny hung about the refrigerator, opening and closing the door, eyeing the brown-crusted pie. Her mother and father were in the store. It was a Saturday, and her brother was out somewhere with his friends. At last, being a child with little will power, she could not help herself, and she cut a piece of the dessert. She ended up eating two pieces and feeling a little unwell but happy.