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Singapore Girl Part 3

Singapore Girl Part 3

It so happened that we didn't fuck for about three days after that. On the average, we fucked about every eight hours, so this was quite a long time. And it was just as well, in a way: "My asshole is sore." "I I'm not surprised," I said. "I wish it wasn't but I liked the way it got sore." I thought about my next words. "And so did you." Her eyes blazed at me. I saw the anger beginning in her face - - and then it collapsed. "I know but that's what the gay boys do, isn't it? Do you wish I was a boy?" I started to laugh and then realized she was only half- joking.
"June, I like licking your cunt," I said quietly. "And so do you. Does that mean you wish I was a woman since cunt licking is what lesbians do?" Her eyes half closed and she shivered. "I know!" She seemed amazed. "It makes me itchy when you say that but you know I don't like lesbians." I licked my lips and stepped toward her. She put her small hand against my chest, keeping me away. I didn't press it. Even if I'd been the kind of moronic asshole who tries to force himself on someone else, there was something else to consider: June had been an auxiliary cop in Singapore, with the attendant martial arts training. We'd sparred playfully a few times. She was just as fast as I and a helluvalot more deceptive in her movements. I knew I could absorb enormous damage, and use my superior strength to prevail, but I had no desire to do so and I didn't know if there were subconscious resentments in this hard-bodied young woman that could make a playful blow slip and do serious damage. This was just another equality that made her attractive to me: June could not be forced to do anything. Whatever she did, it was by choice. "But!" She laughed and dropped her hand. She knew my respect for her prowess and, more importantly, simply for her. "But!" I nodded ruefully. "I know." Indeed I did. She was working with the Jaycees (yes, they exist and even flourish in the Big Apple) on the Special Olympics, a sports competition for "special" children. Special meant retarded, for the most part, and frequently, physically disabled. In addition to her routine 60-hour-plus-4 a.m.-Telex weeks, June donated her enormous energies and ingenuity to things like the Special Olympics. The timing of the sore asshole, in a way, couldn't have been better. The program was going to greatly limit the time we had together for the next week and it was one of the many reasons I was becoming more and more taken with her. Which was also one of the things that really bothered Annie.
Who? Yes, ahem, well ... At the time I met June, I had already known in every sense Annie for more than two years. I, like she in those pre-AIDS days, had other lovers. Annie knew about June, and June knew about Annie. Annie was a lot more at ease with the idea of June than vice-versa. When I said June and I fucked about every eight hours on the average, I meant "average." Annie and I spent two nights a week together, usually. Annie, like June, was a couple of years younger than me. We'd met when I was working a part-time job selling coffees and teas, during a publishing drought. What first got my attention was, oddly enough, her mind. I had a game I sometimes played with customers. Since the various coffees we sold had different per-pound prices, blends called for some arithmetic. After all, a couple of ounces of Kenya Double-A at $4 per pound and a quarter pound of French Roast Columbian at $3.65 a pound and two ounces of Yemen Mocha at $5.10 a pound, etc., gets one into the realm of challenging numbers. I made a game of it.
My game was to run it up in my head. (Not that tough, dividing by sixteen and keeping a running total, once you practice it; try it and see.) That scared customers who weren't accustomed to using those mental muscles. They only trusted calculators and adding machine tapes. So I had this deal: If they wanted, I would run it up on the adding machine. If I was wrong, they got the coffee free I would pay for it out of my own pocket. If I was right, they'd pay a fifty percent premium ... to me. Few took me up on it. Those that did lost always. Annie came in on a crowded Sunday and ordered two ounces of this and three ounces of that and so forth. She ended up with six different beans in the pound. When I turned to tell her the price, she said, "Wait a minute five seventy....three? Yes. Yes. Five seventy- three, if you round up for a half-cent." That's what got my attention and then her face. I asked her if she was half-Chinese and half-Irish. She had reddish-brown hair and a fine boned faced. Her cheekbones were high and her eyes were slanted. She explained that she was part Magyar the result of Mongolians overrunning Eastern Europe Way Back When. Her face was fascinating and her mind was terrific.
Her body was outrageous. Imagine a woman who's just over five- foot-one and weighs about ninety pounds. Sounds scrawny, right? No way. She was very small-boned. Annie had absolutely beautiful, perfectly formed, firm and sumptuous breasts. Her waist was slender and her hips were narrow. She had a delectable little ass and the tastiest cunt... She was also completely uninhibited. Annie would do anything that felt good and anything she didn't like, she wouldn't do. She could suck cock expertly, loved to be licked, enjoyed cock in her cunt from any angle and enjoyed ass fucking. She was multi-orgasmic in the extreme and very vocal about it. She liked men, she liked women, she liked threesomes, and she had even enjoyed orgies.
When I was fifteen and jerking off, I would construct the perfect sexual partner in my imagination. That image was Annie. I had to wait till I was in my late twenties to meet her and discover that reality could exceed imagination. Not only was she lovely, incredibly sexy and sweet, she was smart and perceptive.
Of course, if this was fiction, Annie and June would have drooled over each other at first sight and we all would have fucked off together into the sunset. The fact was, though, that June hated the idea of doing anything with another woman and Annie didn't find June attractive (Annie liked and likes women with larger breasts and voluptuous hips and has a special weakness for long nipples.) In a way, that was no problem for me, since oddly enough being in bed with more than one woman at once has never been one of my major fantasies.
In another way, it was a good thing. Considering how passionate and sexual both women were, a man caught between them in bed would have gone up in a puff of smoke. No cremation necessary; by dawn, there'd have been nothing left of the poor bastard but ashes.
I should have been in pig heaven. Here were two women whom I found tremendously attractive and felt the same way about me. For one reason or another, neither was willing to assert a claim of exclusivity on me. One was willing to get weird at the drop of a dildo, while the other simply Liked Doing Things. And one of them was going to be busy and had a sore ass for a few days while the other was more than eager to make up a little lost time.
But things were not perfect. For one thing, their periods coincided. No big deal, I thought, since it didn't bother me, either for fucking or sucking. But June was uncomfortable and Annie got cranky. And that was the least of it.
See, while June was about to be tied up with her Jaycees project, Annie was about to spend two weeks visiting friends in France. She was doubly annoyed at the timing.
I, on the other hand, had gotten used to fucking two or three times each day, sometimes with more than one woman and now I was looking forward (if that's the right term) to about ten days of Doing Without.
True, the day before she headed for JFK and her transatlantic flight, Annie and I lolled about in bed for about eighteen hours of sexual bliss. True, June stopped by the very next day, flipped up her skirt to reveal her panty less cunt, grabbed her ankles and winked at me upside down between her knees. But that was going to be it.
Ahh well, I figured. I needed to spend more time at the Selectric. And in a pinch, there were always the Palm Sisters and Fond Memories. Hell, what was ten days? I told myself. It could be a very long time, I told myself.
To my amazement, on the Thursday night that Annie left for France and June left for Albany, I got a phone call from Philly: Barbie Shelton was coming to town.
I had known Barb for about four years, at that point. She'd lived with Bertha, also an NYU student, in the same building as me during the Great Blackout of '77 and had come down to keep me company. Bertha knew I had just had a very bad breakup and was going quite literally crazy. Barbie saved my life. No shit I was seriously contemplating suicide when she decided to take me under her wing.
I had seen her around the building from time to time. She had a sweet face and a placid demeanor and seemed like a nice, plump girl. I had no idea what kind of figure she had, since she always wore big, loose mu-mu dresses. At about 2:30 a.m. on the second night of the blackout, after we had killed about two-thirds of a bottle of cheap red wine that she'd brought, she announced she really would prefer to stay with me rather than risk waking her roommate (whom I'd always found more attractive) by coming home late. Between the emotional shock of the breakup a few weeks before and my weariness (an hour of sleep at a time was rare) and the wine, I thought it sounded reasonable and no more than that. But in the darkness of my bedroom, I felt something against my face, then something else. I stood and lit a candle and discovered Barbie had absolutely enormous breasts. "Where did THOSE come from?" I'd demanded. She'd laughed gently, as with everything else and beckoned me back to bed. I was rather unprepared for the body so carefully hidden under the loose, oversize dresses. Imagine a woman who's five foot tall, has 32-inch hips, a twenty-five inch waist and a bra labeled 32-D ... and who overflows the brassiere’s cups.
But what was wonderful about her was her sweetness and compassion. She loved my delight in licking her cunt and found it simply amazing that I wasn't fixated on her tits. (I'd gotten over my big-tit cravings when I was 17. See, I had this cousin, the same age but that, as Conan's biographer would say, is another tale.) So Barbie was coming to stay with me for a few days while she visited friends in the city. I filled her in more ways than one. Heh. On what I'd been up to and we made love a lot. She reveled in waking me one morning with her mouth locked on the tip of my cock and sucked me off, drinking me moaning dry and then sprawling on me and kissing my lips with my own cum on hers. We slept again, till nearly one in the afternoon, and then made love, with her on her face and a pillow under her hips, and then drowsed till dark. I can still feel the wonderful weight of her breasts pressed against me and the firmness of her ass under my fingers and the wet heat of her cunt against my hip and the slightly salty from perspiration taste of her ear when I kissed her awake that night. I went out and bought the fixings and prepared an odd dinner of broiled filet of sole, mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus. Then we went back to bed and made love again. Barb, wherever you are, you are precious. If you are not happy, call me and talk to me. You saved my life and my heart and I want to do for you.
A week passed and June came back earlier than planned because, she said, she'd missed me and was itchy for me.
Barbie had left for home two days before and I was randy as hell. I got over to June's apartment at six. I had just sold a piece and was feeling jubilant. As soon as the door was closed, she got a lip lock on me and the only thing that kept my cock out of her was the aroma of broiling steak. She fended me off and we had a delicious meal. I didn't do it justice; I kept thinking of desert.
When we got upstairs, June wanted to tell me of the Special Olympics regional’s and I was more than willing to listen. But after forty minutes, as we were closing doors and shutting windows (heat, remember?), she suddenly turned to me and said, "Oooooh I am so itchy thinking of a big rubber dick." "I was surprised you could take that big dildo in your little cunt," I admitted. "I told you my boyfriend-boss was very big," she said.
"I thought you meant simply tall." "I don't want to think about him," she said. "I want to be with you. We can always use that big rubber cock." I smiled sadly. "I didn't think to bring it with me," I confessed. I was standing behind her and slid my hands under her blue sweater to hold her nipples. She pushed her ass against me and shifted impatiently from one foot to the other, her breath hissing. "But we can improvise." She reached back and rubbed my cock through my pants. "This cock is so nice and hard” I bent and licked the back of her neck. She shivered and said, "And this tongue is so nice and wet” "I want to fuck you now!" I breathed into her ear.
That's when I began to discover just how kinky this lovely little Singaporean girl really was.

End of Story