Mack Tavish - Student_s Bedroom Demonstration

"Seems to me I've heard that song before," Doris said wryly, getting out of her chair. She saw that Sally was awake. "You want something to eat, chickie?"

Her tone was friendly enough now, Sally thought, and forced a smile of response to her lips.

"Come in the kitchen, then, and we'll see what we can find. Here." She fished Sally's sweater from the floor by one of the chairs. "Better put this on – you'll catch cold."

The men, seemed uninterested in her at the moment. There were empty scotch bottles on the table, and Sally thought they must have been drinking quite heavily. Doris followed the direction of her gaze and winked, then beckoned with her head for Sally to follow into the kitchen.

Doris took a plate of cold chicken and a quart of milk from the refrigerator and set them on the table with paper plates and napkins. The two women sat down and Doris reached for a chicken leg. Sally took a piece too, not really wanting it until she started to nibble at the meat, when she found that she was quite ravenously hungry.

"Take some more," Doris said, pushing the platter towards her. "You'll need to keep your strength up with that mob of horny hoods panting after you.

Sally looked at her wonderingly.

Doris shrugged.

"Sorry, chickie," she said. "Fuck-all I can do about it. Except – well, if it's any consolation, we drew lots a while ago for who gets you tonight."

She took another leg of chicken and bit into it.

"I won," she added, with her mouth full. "Ever made it with another woman before?"

Sally stared at her numbly.

"No, huh?" Doris concluded. Sally shook her head.

"Well, you just relax and do as I say, and you'll find that you'll like it."

"But I – "

"Listen, if you really hate the idea," Doris said, narrowing her eyes in sudden hostility, "I'll turn you over to Willy – he's spent half the evening telling us how he plans sticking that oversized meat stick of his up your asshole the first chance he gets – if you'd rather spend the night that way, I won't stand in your way.

Sally swallowed and shook her head again.

"What's that mean?" Doris demanded.

"I – no – I – I'd rather stay with you – "

"Well, gee, thanks a whole lot."

Doris was really annoyed, Sally realized, her heart sinking.

"Please," she said, her voice as conciliatory as she could make it, "I only – I've never – I didn't mean – "

"Oh, forget it," Doris said moodily. "I don't give a shit if you want to make it with me or not – you're going to, and I'm going to enjoy it, that's all there is about it."

But she didn't look as though she would enjoy anything, Sally thought anxiously.

She tried to think of something to say that would restore the former more friendly atmosphere, but found herself bereft of words. She would have smiled if Doris had looked at her, but the woman kept her eyes averted while she finished eating, then she stood up, and still not looking at Sally, said:

"Come on."

Sally followed her out of the kitchen and up the creaking stairs, into a bedroom with a double bed. It was hardly luxurious, she thought, but it seemed to be clean.

Doris shut the door and turned the key in the lock "Okay," she said, swiftly stripping off her shirt and jeans while Sally watched, "you're going to eat me, chickie, and you're going to make a good job of it, whether you like it or not. You coped with that lout Willy, and you're going to do as good for me. Get those dumb clothes off."

She stalked to the bed and sprawled down on it, spreading her legs and bending them upwards and out, so that the crimson inner flesh of her sex was spread between the black coat or pubic hair. She caressed her own breasts, the brownish nipples standing high to tip the conical mounds.

Sally pulled off her sweater, then unfastened her skirt and slipped out of it. She undid the tabs of her garter belt and rolled her stockings off, then tugged the garter belt over her hips and stepped out of it.

Doris' eyes were fixed on her, hut she didn't look at Sally's face.

"Come on over here and get your face between my legs," she ordered harshly.

Sally knelt on the edge of the bed and crawled into what she assumed to be the right position. She clenched her teeth slightly, and moved her face towards that demanding spread sex that awaited her ministrations.

She found herself staring in fascination.

She had really never seen female genitals in detail before, other than in the impersonal biology diagrams that had come her way in the course of hygiene classes. She had never felt the urge to examine that part of herself in a mirror – indeed, she had always assumed it was better not seen, any more than one would want to look at anything dirty or disgusting.

But now she moved her face to within an inch of the open pussy, gazing with intrigued attention at its intricate structure: at the grooved central ridge with the tiny slit of the urethra; at the little inner lips that were the entrance to the vagina, and at the shadowy cleft behind that vanished in shadow.

She could smell it, too – not an unfamiliar smell. It was the same scent that had been on her finger when Jake had forced her to probe herself, and so presumably the taste would be the same as her own, musky, very slightly like very fresh fish…

"Go on," Doris urged her, voice husky with anticipation.

Slowly Sally advanced the tip of her tongue to make the tentative connection with the moist, hot, slippery flesh – this was territory utterly unknown. She had always assumed that some day she would be initiated into the mysteries of sexuality with a man, but such intimate contact with another of her own sex had never occurred to her before today as anything but a strange aberration of certain people who were – different.

Doris sucked in a long, shuddering breath between her teeth as Sally's tonguetip brushed over her eagerly waiting flesh, then suddenly she pulled herself away convulsively and rolled over, and sat up cross-legged on the bed, shaking her head as though dazed from a sudden blow.

Sally, alarmed, pushed herself up and sat back on her heels, and asked anxiously:

"Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt me?" Doris said bemusedly, then gave an odd, dry laugh. "No, chickie. No. It's just – I find I don't have the temperament for rape, that's all."

There was a long silence, during which Sally kept perfectly still, watching as Doris sat with fingers clenching and unclenching, her breath hissing in and out between her teeth in a rigidly controlled cadence, as though she were bearing the pitiless attack of some physical agony.

"I was falling into that goddamned trap," Doris said at last, "of trying to rival them in – piggery. Sexual obnoxiousness. Show them a woman can be every bit as crude as a man." She laughed again, bitterly. "I was raped once – that was enough. You'd think I'd have learned better, wouldn't you?"

Sally said nothing.

"Now it's happening to you," Doris went on. 'I thought I'd like to see it happen to somebody else. Join in – get my share of the action." She shrugged. “Well, I can't do much to protect you, but I guess I can claim my share of you and give you the pleasure of being let alone once in a while."

She swung herself off the bed and stood with her hands on her hips, her slim, high-breasted figure straight and proud.

"The bathroom's through there," she said, gesturing at a door in one wall. "You could probably use a shower or something." She reached for a robe and wrapped it around herself. "See you later – I need a drink."

Sally found herself alone.

Her brain felt totally fatigued. Only Doris' suggestion about the shower really stayed with her, and she went to the bathroom. There were towels that looked clean, and a shower cap she could use, and soap – and when she tried the faucet, the water flowed through hot and soothing.