Hugh Kissasse - A Little Night Nookie

He moved to a large television set that we hadn't noticed, in a corner. There were rows of buttons on it, and he studied them, thoughtfully.

"Let me show you," he said, pressing buttons. "Closed-circuit, of course… one for each suite of rooms. I do like watching what's going on, both for… ah, business reasons… and pleasure. Let me see, now…, here's Cynthia, for instance. I believe she has a gentleman caller this evening..

The screen lit up, and Dottie and I both sat, with our mouths wide open, watching. Wowee. It wasn't a family-type show, that was for sure.

Cynthia was a long legged model-type, and the camera was aimed squarely at the bed on which she was presently sitting; she was nearly undressed herself, except for a bra and panties, and she was busily undressing a distinguished looking gentleman of middle age, who seemed to be enjoying it. She was handing the clothes to a small brunette chick, who was wearing a maid's apron, over a nearly transparent net body stocking, and who looked as sexy as Cynthia, if possible.

"Miss Selina isn't really a maid, of course," Mr. Smith explained with a chuckle. "Merely a part of the small fantasy, as you might say… ah, the gentleman is a very old and valued customer, yes indeed. Now, watch this."

I wouldn't have taken my eves off that screen for anything. I think I've got this Peeping Tom thing a little myself. but the show was simply a wizard. Cynthia had the man bare by now, and she bent down, pursing her luscious wide mouth and darting her tongue in a very erotic way. The man's prong was a great big one, and the sight of it made me feel a little horny. Maybe I have a thing for older gentlemen, or something; but what with my limited experience, it still seemed to me that there was something about the older ones that had it all over the sixteen-year-olds.

But just then. Cynthia put that big object right between her lips, and sucked in. nibbling away and doing things with her hands around it; the man obviously loved the whole treatment, all right. He turned a bit, and I caught sight of his face, which was pink, moist, and very familiar.

Dottie saw it too, and we gasped together.

"It's Dr. Prattworth!"

"The customer is someone you know?" Mr. Smith asked in a troubled voice. "Dear me… ah, might I ask that you be… discreet? Many of our clients are prominent, and…"

"Oh, boy," Dottie said.

"Remember the big sex-education crisis?" I said, and we both laughed. I turned toward Smith. "That's Dr. Prattworth, and he's a big wheel back home where we come from. He's the head of the board of education, for one thing, and he's against sex, he said. Oh, wow!"

"No, no, please," Mr. Smith said. "I am sure you will say nothing… under the circumstances, you understand."

"Heck, no," I told him. "Golly, Dottie, look at that!"

Cynthia had shed the rest of her clothes by now, and so had the imitation maid, Selina; the two of them had Dr. Prattworth flat on his back, and taking turns at his thing, which stood up between them. The two girls were licking it, kissing, it, tickling it with feathers and batting it back and forth playfully; between bouts of sucking on it. As one would pay attention to the upright prong, the other would work her way around on other parts of Dr. Prattwortki, bumping her breasts here and there, rubbing her hips against his chest, and so on. He was pretty worked up, I could see, and as Selina's luscious bottom got within reach, he grabbed at it, pulling her down toward his own pursed lips.

"That sort of thing might very well go on for hours," Mr. Smith said, punching a button, and changing scenes. The next scene was wilder than the previous one, and he was right, it did go on for hours.

He pushed a button and changed scenes. There was a room where a tall, black-haired girl dressed in what looked like shiny leather was whacking away at an upended male rear end. Mr. Smith chuckled, apologetically.

"A few of our clients do have such odd tastes…" he said. "But I assure you, you will not be asked to do anything not to your own taste…" He switched scenes again, and this time he tuned in a sound.

A slim red-haired girl was crouched against the wall of a big bedroom, clutching the ragged remains of her dress together over a pair of really enormous boobs, and screaming wildly. A naked man, arms extended, was approaching her, his eyes wild, snatching.

"Oh, please. no, no, don't!" the girl shrieked, as he snatched away the tatters, and clutched at her.

"Hey, what's going on?" I said. Mr. Smith chuckled.

"Violet… we call her Shrinking Violet… is one of our most accomplished girls," he told us. "'Our client… a well-known military gentleman… has a taste for raping virgins, and we always try to accommodate him, though our supply of virgins is practically nil, alas. Particularly virgins who wish to be brutally raped. However, Violet rather enjoys this sort of thing… and the General, of course, enjoys it as well. Having been strictly a staff man during the wars, his opportunities for genuine rape were quite limited.

The General had seized Violet, and was thrusting his knee between her tightly pressed thighs, forcing them apart, while she beat on his chest, and shrieked protests. She kept bending backward, her enormous tits tilting straight up under the General's chin, and he gobbled at their rose-tipped nipples with eager lips.

Violet was wriggling wildly, but I notice she wasn't making it too hard for the General; his prong was up there, rummaging around in her fuzz, and she could have easily avoided it if the whole thing had been real.

Now he picked her up, puffing a little, and carried her to bed, where he flung her down and climbed on top. This time, I definitely caught her assisting him, as he pushed his tool up into position; and a second later, he was all the way in, jumping as hard as he could, while Violet continued to squeal and scream protests. Protests that were intended to keep the General's steam up, too, I noticed.

"Oh, don't don't, it's too BIG, oh mamma, stop, AIYEE, ohoho… " Violet was wailing and just then-her face visible over the General's shoulder-she looked at the TV camera eye, and one big blue eye closed in a lascivious wink.

"I do like a sin with a sense of humor." Smith said. switching channels again. This one was a little odd. A girl with a somewhat schoolteachenish look was sitting in a spread-legged position. across the lap of a gorgeous young man with beautiful big muscles, who had his tool planted right in, and was bouncing her up and down, hard and heavy. She was very happy about it, too, from the way she looked and sounded, but somehow she didn't seem the right type for a member of the staff or whatever the right word was.

"The lady is the customer, in this particular instance," Mr. Smith said, smirking. "We do have a few lady clients, and we try to supply their needs. After all, the day of feminine equality has come, has it not?" He sighed. "Our girls even have a union of their own, I fear. And it's a difficult one to deal with, I assure you."

The next view was of a large room, dimly lit, with couches and Roman columns all around it; nobody was there at the moment.

"Our Orgy Rooms are noted for their decor…" Mr. Smith said. "We have another for Babylonia orgies, done in early Cecil B. DeMille… also a Western Saloon, and a Renaissance Room. Of course, we generally hold orgies on weekends." He turned off the set, and smiled at us. "Now, would you like to try it out?"

"Gee, let's do it, Dottie!" I said. "It looks like fun."

"I don't know." she said, doubtfully. "Cripes, Honey, you've gotten me into such trouble so far with all your ideas, and now… well. I mean, doing it for money… it doesn't sound moral."

"It would pay our way through college," I pointed out.

"We didn't graduate from Sodom High yet," she said. "And I don't think we would, even if we went back home."