Stu Boy - She Needs Some Pleasin

She was admiring herself in the mirror over the bathroom medicine chest when the door was rattled by heavy knocking-a man, she was sure.

She was right because Bruce's fist was still raised when she drew the door back and stood waiting. Curiously enough, Bruce's eyes glided past her and surveyed the modern interior of the apartment, while Donna looked at her' with the glance of a predator.

Bruce settled on the couch and was looking longingly at the bar. "Got anything to drink?" he asked, conscious that he was not being scrupulously polite, but sure that strict rules of courtesy need not be observed in these situations-that they might even be awkward.

Susie did not wish to make his breach more than a little obvious. She stood.still near the door, and let her eyes wash over Donna and Bruce as she said, "Hi, I'm Susie. I hope we're going to be friends."

"I'm Donna," the woman said, "and I'm sure we will be." She was tall and blond; her shoulders were broad for a woman, and her breasts, inside a bra, were big. Her legs were long and her calves well formed, though not thin. She was not quite pretty, but she was attractive. She had a good smile, and perfect peach skin. The way she carried herself showed confidence and athletic agility; she reminded Susie of what the reporter had always called a "California type, rather horsy but refined."

Bruce had not said a word since asking for refreshment, but his wife's enthusiasm had forced him to consider Susie afresh. Not complimenting her directly, he turned to his wife. "What did I tell you? Didn't I say they'd give us some good-looking ones?"

For the first time since she had begun the "job," an unmixed feeling of disgust passed through Susie, making her feel nothing better than a whore. Bruce repulsed her, and the feeling. was not tempered-as it had been in her other encounters-by sympathy or compassion.

Not that he was unattractive. Now that he was seated, she couldn't tell whether her first impression of his height-that he was shorter than his wife by at least an inch-was correct. He was in his middle-thirties, and his face had. features girls in high school tend to can cute; they had been frozen by the fifteen or so years since high school, the grimness of seeing an averaged high school senior made her wish he were uglier. Still, his body was good-thin, bony, but hard, the type she always enjoyed having sex with.

He had already kicked off his shoes, but Susie's attention was distracted by the way Donna raised her leg and put her hand on the heel of her patent leather shoe. The woman gestured to the other side of the room where heavy drapes covered the wall-length window. "Is that the bed?"

Susie nodded. She had already determined that Bruce wanted a Scotch-and-seven, and that Donna wanted a gin and tonic. She was herself surprised at how well-stocked the bar was. She didn't feel she needed relaxing, and it was always better, she thought, to work with one's full range of sensation, so she drank a Coke while the couple finished their drinks.

Both had moved to the bed, and Susie watched while Donna yanked her husband's belt buckle open and slid the belt through the trouser loops. She threw the leather snake to the floor and unzipped the zipper. Oblivious, it seemed, to Susie's presence, she pried the trunk of his short but amazingly thick prick from his boxer shorts. The fondness with which she touched the instrument was so apparent that Susie recalled Libby Talma's praise of their marriage.

She drew nearer to them, rather excited by the possibilities for voyeurism. Donna was licking her lips, making the pink lipstick shine, and Susie figured she would go down on him, widening her lips to take the whole of the massive trunk onto her tongue.

Bruce had thrust his head back and was leaning, chin in elbow, against the pillow. He put his hand out, an empty glass on the palm, and looked at Susie appealingly as if for a refill. She walked back into the kitchen and put the glass in the sink, ignoring the request: he wouldn't be much good for clinical observation if he were bombed, and right at this moment she was being monitored by closed-circuit television. She had been told that, but they hadn't mentioned where the camera would be. Her eyes scanned the room, and she found a small socket with one glass eye on each of the four walls. These were deluxe accommodations!

Susie was conscious of her breasts moving under the flimsy gown as she walked back toward the bed; the way the fabric clung to the tits, irritating them slightly but making them stiff, exciting her. They stood out hard and scarlet beneath the layer of sheer nightie. She was conscious of Bruce's eyes as well. His head turned to watch her. Susie tried returning the stare, but she found herself shifting her eyes to his crotch.

Donna's open mouth had slid up the shaft and now her lips circled the bulbous head, while the rest of the dork shone with spit. The blue veins stood out hard beneath the skin, with its shifting hues of pink and tan. His wife seemed to enjoy tremendously sucking at Bruce's dick, but he was apparently more moved by the nudity under the therapist s gown than by the tongue's manipulation. Donna's blow was soundless and smooth; the woman's eyes were closed as she pulled in on the organ.

Susie helped her by pulling Bruce's trousers and undershorts, now at his hairy thighs, down his legs, after first unlacing his shoes and pulling off his socks. The touch of Susie's hands on his limbs shifted his gears, and now he was sighing encouragement to Donna, fingering her scalp as her head turned from side to side and her mouth dropped lower down the penis.

Susie undid his shirt and rolled her fingers up and down his flat chest, poking the nipples until they were tingling and his breathing sounded asthmatic.

The coup de grace, in this case, was the way her tongue curled around the areola and her lips twisted over the thin hairs that lined the skin. Her fingers scratched amiably, lightly at his belly, and the back of her hand touched Donna's cheek, warm with excitement. She moved to Donna's lips with her forefinger, and she pressed the tip down on a drop of semen that the prick had already produced.

Bruce's whole body was moving with the rhythm of the pulsing cream inside his stomach; responding sexually, he was like a good rock-and-roll dancer. Not only his lower torso, not only his legs, but even his shoulders and his neck snapped with each beat.

Susie rolled her fingertip over the wet nipple, and she spread out on the large bed beside him so that she could run her tongue up the side of his neck, pushing it under his ear. His breathing became a deep wheeze at this, and he turned his head toward I her, his tongue half out of his mouth. He put his fingers against the base of her skull and pulled her toward him. Complying, she ran her fingers through his oily hair and waited for him to enter her mouth.

He teased her at first with the way his wet lips just twisted against hers, and his teeth pushed beneath them until her lips felt raw and her gums ached. When his tongue finally did glide past the lips, it was to soothe her. He put his hand to her breast, rubbing the tit with the inside of the dressing gown. He put his leg between hers, and he tried to shoot his knee up to her crotch, but the material would not follow, thus restraining him. He contented himself with pushing down on her belly with four of his fingertips. She felt them inside her pubic wool. She arched her spine and sent her buttocks off the floor, urging him to go lower-and he did.

He teased the labia and bent his forefinger at the knuckle, rubbing the tissue just around the clit. He was jamming his ass into the mattress while Donna continued to suck him, coming up occasionally for frantic gasps of air. "Not so much teeth, doll," her husband told her, drying her sweating forehead with the side of his hand.