The Erotic Comedies (Vassi Collection Volume XI) (11 page)

During a deep silence, something totally unforeseen happened. He held her to him, as he so often had, but this time his arms tightened until her face tilted up, and his lips covered hers in a kiss that transmitted an unmistakable urgency.

Something profoundly deep within her melted. The transcendent liberty she had discovered in her body blended with the hunger in her heart, and in an instant she surrendered totally to him, on fire with that unique melange of physical desire, emotional need, and intellectual affinity to which is given the name love.

Instantly they were one, and without a thought they launched themselves into a total lovemaking which thundered with the force of so many years of waiting and building. The form was completely constructed, their friendship was absolute, she could give herself, give herself rapturously, having the abandon she had known in her body with others and the fullness she had felt in her heart for Albert. Now they were one, and it seemed as though her entire life had been a preparation for this moment.

The next morning they decided to live together, and they moved to a new neighborhood, wanting to make a clean break with both their pasts. They found an apartment, and had a glorious honeymoon of sorts for three weeks. And without marking the moment as such, they passed into that space in which they were grafted onto one another, and could not henceforth part without a terrible tearing and rupture. In an informal and real sense, they were married.

And one night, as they sat on the couch, reading, she felt a strange vibration in the room. She looked up from her book and found Albert watching her, his face slightly distorted.

With dire premonition she asked, "What is it, darling?"

His voice was hard, his eyes narrowed, "I was just thinking about that dockworker you told me about," he said.

For a moment she couldn't think of what he was talking about. And then it came to her. The dockworker she had gone with shortly after her husband left her.

"I was thinking about all the things you did with him," he went on, his voice thin and febrile, "letting him fuck you in the ass, sucking his cock."

And with a slow, mounting dread she realized that his entire system was laced with scorching jealousy and anger, a pervasive and unrelenting possessiveness, spiteful and thorough. She hoped it might be a momentary mood, but at a glance she understood that she was only seeing the tip of the iceberg. For he not only remembered that one night, but had catalogued in his memory every incident she had ever told him about. He knew every action, every feeling, every moan that had been hers for the past eight years. His control was absolute.

"But that was before ..." she began to say and stopped. What was happening was beyond logic or reason. A cold clammy hysteria clutched her belly and fear flashed in her eyes like a trapped rat in a flooded cellar. The days of physical suffering were finished, and she was returning once more to the other kind of punishment, the emotional and mental murder. Her independent self began to crumble as she found herself once again at the mercy of her vulnerability. She felt a quick impulse to flee, but was helpless against the undertow of her conditioning.

Her friend had become her husband, and he wanted revenge.

Fist Fucker

At the age of seven, Carl was taken into the old man's house, and after proper softening with ice cream, comic books, and discrete caressing, seemed to have no objection to holding the wrinkled penis in his mouth. He sucked it until it was hard, and when the sperm was plunked on his tongue, he tasted it ingeniously, not knowing that what had just happened would raise the unbridled fury of the caretakers of the world's official attitudes.

Ironically, the old man was a retired judge, and Carl's parents were pleased that their son should spend time in what they thought was an educational atmosphere. Until he was nine, Carl visited on the average of once a week, until his taste for the experience began to exceed the old man's ability to provide it. After his sombre initiation into the realm of sex, he went in search of others.

His understanding of the role of sex in society was rudimentary and inchoate. Beyond the judge's admonitions that he must never speak about what they did except to tell his parents that the nice old neighbor had read to him and given him cookies to eat, he had no grasp of the hysteria which such simple behavior as cock-sucking engendered. Yet, with animal instinct, when he began his forays into the wider world, he knew to seduce only those who he sensed were willing to be had.

By the age of twelve, Carl had thrilled scores of men with his surprising eagerness to service their unspoken desires. He developed a way of standing, of looking, which set up the necessary vibrations between himself and available provender. Playing with his schoolmates, he would often disappear for an hour and prowl strange streets, finding what he wanted, and consummating his quest in hallways or cellars or the back seats of cars.

Carl knew no genital excitement himself, and was somewhat perplexed that his ministrations would bring grown men to tears. The gasps and moans which showered his ears as his delicate child's mouth would cover a cock and his tongue tingle intricate patterns over a thigh he appreciated only through empathy. What he did seemed to make others happy, and that was gratification enough.

He was first anally penetrated at the age of fourteen one summer afternoon. He was hitchhiking through the Long Island suburbs, sizing up the men who stopped for him, and either proceeding with them to a secluded space or perceiving rapidly that there was nothing to be had from that particular person. When the huge trailer stopped, the boy was taken with an unusual premonition that set him shivering. As he climbed into the cab, he was overwhelmed with an impression of muscular thighs and calloused hands. The man glanced at him once and seemed to know what Carl wanted before he even made an overture. He took the truck to a rest stop and led the boy into the back, where an entire household of furniture was stacked and being moved from South Carolina to Wyoming. It belonged to a nuclear physicist who, sickened at the corruption within the Atomic Energy Commission, had decided to become a sheep rancher.

The man pushed Carl onto a couch and stood over him, his cock straining against his pants. With expert fingers, the lad pulled the zipper down. Gently, he tugged the thickly veined tool out, and with a flutter of his eyelids, took it between his lips. He sucked for a long time, his thin young body gradually working up to a feverish pitch, tossing to and fro as he worked on the huge organ. Then, to his surprise, the man pulled back.

"Get on your stomach," the driver commanded.

Carl lay down, uncertain as to what would happen next. The man yanked his pants down, pulling them over his legs and past his feet, until the boy was naked below the waist, his slim virginal buttocks gleaming in the dull light. The man spit on his fingers and thrust them into the tiny anus, lubricating it slightly. Without a wasted gesture, he lowered his bulk onto the child and thrust his cock into the puckered opening.

A bolt of pain shot through the boy and he gasped for breath. But hot upon the pain came a flash of sweet burning, a tender yielding that brought tears to his eyes. Grunting and huffing, the truck driver fucked the boy a long time, putting him in a dozen different positions, maneuvering the small body with ease, using his brawny arms to arrange the slender limbs in the most open poses, and then bursting in with all the power and force he could manage.

He came as the boy knelt over the arm of the couch, his buttocks raised, his legs dangling, and himself crouching behind, half raised on his toes, his heels pressed into a chest-of-drawers for leverage. As he bucked into orgasm, he drove ruthlessly into the boy's bowels and lifted him half a foot into the air.

Not long after that, Carl left home. He had already begun to see that the semi-conscious world of home and school was a restricting and artificial facade imposed over the true facts of life. He was developing a wisdom which transcended the artifacts of conventional knowledge, and he could no longer pretend to possess the naivete and immaturity expected of someone his age.

He went to San Francisco, where he discovered the baths. Because of his youth, his good looks, and his unbounded willingness to please, he soon became a favorite in gay circles. One night he was spotted by a jaded millionaire who offered to house him with the others in the harem he had built in an effort to pique a glutted appetite. Carl accepted, and within a short time ascended to the status of superstar.

But none of this seemed to affect his basic humility, and his unabashed desire to provide sexual pleasure for others. By seventeen, he was a virtuoso in the art of passive homoesexual performance, and highly skilled in all the nuances of surrender. His patron grew proud, and then jealous, of his charge, and forbid him to have contact with anyone but himself.

Soon after, he left the mansion, and on his way along a highway, accepted a ride from a bestial-looking motorcycle rider who took him to his camp, where several dozen others lounged in snarling lassitude. The boy was thrown to them the way meat is thrown to lions in a zoo, and for several days he served as a slave to their every whim, catering to their surly need for stimulation.

On the fourth day, lying over a pile of sleeping bags, having been fucked by twelve men in succession, he was initiated into the form that he had been unconsciously evolving toward for his entire life. The leader of the pack, kneeling behind him, placed his bunched fist between Carl's buttocks. The boy gasped, and then relaxed, and the huge curled hand pressed tightly against his asshole. Slowly, he gave way, and the first entered the hot opening. The universe seemed to crash about Carl's head as the man behind him continued to push, engulfing his hand, his wrist, and then his whole forearm up to the elbow. At that point, he stopped, and with a deliberate motion, flexed his entire arm, filling the pulsing channel completely with hard bulging muscle.

Carl smiled in ecstasy. After a decade of service, he felt he was finally being satisfied.

He continued drifting from adventure to adventure until one morning an eerie mood enveloped him. He was walking down a street and as he looked at the faces of the people who passed, he realized they were all asleep. He saw that, through his peculiar metamorphosis, he had become an utterly superior human being. By virtue of having lived in the realm of excess, where others were too fearful to venture, he had attained a depth of awareness that set him apart from the human herd.

Not intrinsically cerebral, and his formal education having ended early, he was not able to articulate the insight with any degree of precision. But as the bright western sun sparkled in his eyes, something like a religious revelation exploded in his brain. If it is true that a person who masters any one thing has mastered all of life itself, then he was a realized human being, for he had become an emperor of perversion.

Thereafter he wandered the country like a ghost. Men would encounter him and tell their friends of an apparition of startling beauty, who sucked cock and allowed himself to be layed and gave a pleasure that went deeper than the sexual, that ultimately soothed the soul. And if asked what he wanted in return, he would say simply, "Fist-fuck me, please," and would lie in rapture as the clenched hand went deeper and deeper into his entrails.

There is a photo of him, the only one in existence, in which he is suspended from a wooden crossbeam. He is shown being lowered onto two men, each of whom has one arm, up to the elbow, buried in his ass at the same time. The boy's eyes are closed, so it is impossible to tell what he is thinking. His face is in repose, and his body is in a state of complete relaxation. A Buddhist monk, seeing the picture, was heard to exclaim, "That is a man who has attained Nirvana."

He was found dead, at the age of twenty-four, wrapped in a mattress in a ravine outside of Los Angeles. No one knew his name or where he had come from, so he was buried in a public field. His life had been a total and selfless giving to others, and he was not known to have sought anything for himself, except the blissful trance state which occurred whenever he was lovingly fist fucked.

Several of the members of Troy Perry's Gay Church subsequently began an official movement to have him proclaimed as their first saint.

Thy Kingdom of Come

The austere freedom she discovered in masturbation razed all desire for intercourse with others. She was liberated into a strange prison, one in which she was permitted to do, or say, or feel anything she liked at any time the impulse moved her, but on one condition: that she remain alone.

That she had been gravitating toward this state during her entire adult life was something that could be seen only in retrospect. In the decade following the loss of her virginity at seventeen, she had moved through a period of such rampant promiscuity that it seemed she would never be able to get enough of people. It was impossible for her to remember how many men, women, children, animals, and dildoes had been inside her, how many gallons of sperm she had swallowed, which perverse actions she had not attempted or catered to.

Then, one night, as she lay writhing on a hooked rug before a roaring fireplace, her body a seething sea of red shadows, her fingers grappling her cunt, after hours of being fucked, whipped, pissed on, made to grovel, some delicate cord inside her snapped, and she opened her eyes to wonder why she was expending so much energy on what had suddenly come to seem a senseless melodrama. With ruthless honesty she severed truth from the appearances which camouflaged it, and asked herself the only real question which has any validity in the erotic realm:
why involve others at all
?

She went into seclusion to ponder the answer, and came to an astonishing conclusion. "Other people merely provide additional energy to increase the scope and intensity of the orgasm," she reasoned, "either by joining the fucking itself, or by watching, or by providing necessary inputs at crucial times in the form of slaps, caresses, or words." She perceived other functions, such as providing company or support or instruction, but she discounted these as pertaining to people who had not yet attained to any autonomy of personality.