Authors: Edward Lee
The House (13 page)
The girl snorted as her gaze roved the dilapidated living room. "Yeah, he's my fuckin' grandfather, the old fuck. Hey, you got any booze or pot?"
"Uh, no, I'm sorry," Leonard said.
And I'm fresh out of Burmese heroin too, but I've got lots of dog food...
Only now was he beginning to lineate his thoughts. An outsider was in the house—a Mafia
safe
house. He'd flopped the dead pig into the kitchen and closed the door, and Snowdrop and Sissy were comatose in back. But still, he had to be very careful.
And I'm fresh out of Burmese heroin too, but I've got lots of dog food...
Only now was he beginning to lineate his thoughts. An outsider was in the house—a Mafia
safe
house. He'd flopped the dead pig into the kitchen and closed the door, and Snowdrop and Sissy were comatose in back. But still, he had to be very careful.
"I apologize for the smell," he said of the house's fetor. "I'm a...a dog breeder."
"Oh, yeah? I saw the pens out back." She pulled an end of a tie string and off came the bonnet. Luxuriant honey-blond hair spilled out.
She's beautiful,
Leonard thought dumbly. Even in the austere apparel. An ample bosom filled the top of the dress, close to stretching against big, clunky, hand-sewn buttons.
She's beautiful,
Leonard thought dumbly. Even in the austere apparel. An ample bosom filled the top of the dress, close to stretching against big, clunky, hand-sewn buttons.
"Is there...something I can do for you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, still letting her eyes roam. "Wow. Electric light, haven't seen that in a while. My mother escaped the compound when she was a teenager, went to Philly, got into drugs, you know the scene. By the time Solomon found her, I was 14, and he brought me back here. Fuck, that place is the pits, and I've been cooped up in my room all week 'cos we just had the Penitation."
"The—"
She waved a small callused hand. "It's part of the whole freak show he's got going down there. They're religious crackpots. Every other week they've got some fucked-up rite or celebration. The Epiphanites believe that the more hardship you suffer, the less seriously you'll be judged by God when you die. Bunch'a crap." She sat down on the flyblown couch and smiled, as though its rusted springs were a great luxury. "But the Penitation is the worst one 'cos nobody's allowed to talk or even leave their rooms for a week... Say, is that
pig shit
on the floor?"
pig shit
on the floor?"
Oops. "Oh, sorry about that," Leonard murmured. "It's, uh, well, one of the dogs had an accident. I'll clean it up right now."
The girl—Esther—tossed her head and laughed. "Don't bother. We're farmers down there—I see animal shit all the time."
Leonard's eyes remained inadvertently fixed on her. "You were saying something about the compound?"
She kicked off her clunky shoes and put two white-stocking'd feet up on the couch arm. "Yeah, and Solly's on a rampage now. The entire congregation's shitting bricks 'cos the pig got away."
Something like a rock seemed to form in Leonard's throat. His eyes threatened to bug out. After a few moments, she looked up at him.
"Are you okay?"
Snap.
"Oh, yes, yes," Leonard blundered. "But I don't understand. You said
the pig
got away?"
the pig
got away?"
Lounging prostrate on the couch, Esther sighed, closed her eyes as if fatigued. "It's part of the Penitence Festival—the pig, I mean. And it got away before the Seventh Night. That's why Solly's going apeshit down there; the Penitation can't officially end until the pig is slaughtered. It's actually kind of funny..." But her words seemed to slip off in some distraction, namely a
tactile
distraction because now, as she lay on the couch, her hands began to very slowly glide up and down her sides in a gesture of self-caressing. "...kind of funny, I mean, because my grandfather's all bent out of shape. To him this is like losing the Advent Wreath on the night before Christmas..." More errant touchings, her hands moving up and down the outsides of her thighs, then the insides, then up to her bosom. It seemed as though she did this without realizing its inappropriateness. After all, she was a guest, and guests don't generally walk into your living room, flop down on your couch, and begin feeling themselves up. (Well, maybe in California, but not most places.) Now her hands made no secret of cupping her breasts through the harsh black dress-top. "All the offertory celebrations are septenary—seven is the number of God so the Epiphanites acknowledge that number in hopes of being worthy of God. For six days we supplicate and confess, and on the seventh day we slaughter the transitory Host. It's a symbolic oblation to God based on
Leviticus...
"
tactile
distraction because now, as she lay on the couch, her hands began to very slowly glide up and down her sides in a gesture of self-caressing. "...kind of funny, I mean, because my grandfather's all bent out of shape. To him this is like losing the Advent Wreath on the night before Christmas..." More errant touchings, her hands moving up and down the outsides of her thighs, then the insides, then up to her bosom. It seemed as though she did this without realizing its inappropriateness. After all, she was a guest, and guests don't generally walk into your living room, flop down on your couch, and begin feeling themselves up. (Well, maybe in California, but not most places.) Now her hands made no secret of cupping her breasts through the harsh black dress-top. "All the offertory celebrations are septenary—seven is the number of God so the Epiphanites acknowledge that number in hopes of being worthy of God. For six days we supplicate and confess, and on the seventh day we slaughter the transitory Host. It's a symbolic oblation to God based on
Leviticus...
"
This sounded fairly interesting but what was taking place on the couch proved even
more
interesting. Fervid fingers unbuttoned the top, pulled it open, and bared large, plush, wobbly breasts. Esther's face looked misted and pink. "Shit, I can't help it," she whispered. "Whenever I get out of that hell-hole I just get...so...hot..."
more
interesting. Fervid fingers unbuttoned the top, pulled it open, and bared large, plush, wobbly breasts. Esther's face looked misted and pink. "Shit, I can't help it," she whispered. "Whenever I get out of that hell-hole I just get...so...hot..."
Leonard received the clear impression that she was not referring to the temperature of the room. Her nipples hardened up to big brown-pink bon-bons, and her breasts proved large enough that she could cup them upward and suckle herself. As she did so, her feet flexed and her legs squirmed on the couch.
Oh, man,
Leonard thought. She alternately sucked each nipple with a fervency that made Leonard wonder if she was trying to get milk. While doing so, she traversed her position slightly and soon her white-socked left foot was sliding up Leonard's leg as he stood watching. Up the leg, yes, then up to his crotch, where it kneaded him there as deftly as a hand.
Oh, man,
Leonard thought. She alternately sucked each nipple with a fervency that made Leonard wonder if she was trying to get milk. While doing so, she traversed her position slightly and soon her white-socked left foot was sliding up Leonard's leg as he stood watching. Up the leg, yes, then up to his crotch, where it kneaded him there as deftly as a hand.
Uh-oh...
Now, for the past ten months, Leonard had been consigned to a life of hopelessness and near starvation. Along with that, the only sexual images in his proximity were scenes of two women having sex with animals, and in most cases the animals were more attractive than the two women. Hence, Leonard had always believed his libidinal responses to be dead and buried. Not now, though, not as he watched this robust blond girl-women play with a set of absolutely stellar tits and attempt to jerk him off in his pants with her foot.
She traversed some more, pointing both legs up at him.
"Take my stockings off!" came a hot whisper.
Leonard did so.
"Take your cock out!"
Leonard did that too.
Now her pretty naked feet went to work. She looked up through slit eyes and a carnal grin. One foot settled under his monorchid scrotum, rubbing the testicle within. The other damn foot grabbed his penis like a hand and began to squeeze it. Each squeeze prompted a copious, jewel-like bead of pre-ejaculatory ooze which welled and then depended to the floor like a clear thread.
Leonard's ball constricted, his knees began to quiver, and his mouth went dry. "I, uh, I think I'm going to—"
"Not yet!" she exclaimed. She leaned up in a blur. "Let me have it!" Leonard looked down bulge-eyed as she very attentively jerked him off into her hand. It was an explosive, gushing orgasm which deposited a virtual palmful of sperm into her hand, and a sensation so precise and complete that Leonard collapsed to the floor when she was done. "I need it," she said. Now Leonard was looking up at her face through the V of her parted legs. The ankle dress had slid all the way back to her hips now to reveal her sex and an abundant topping of pubic hair the color of straw. And what she did next was downright impressive.
What in God's name is she—
Leonard needn't finish the thought. She drew her legs all the way back—
all the way—
until her knees were behind her shoulders and the backs of her calves were actually propping up her head! An Epiphanite
and
a contortionist. This feat of course afforded Leonard a most extreme view of her sex: it pushed it out like a fruit tart baked a bit too long, a crack forming to reveal the filling. The face on her craned neck shot him the most wicked of grins, then, as she promptly rubbed that big handful of Leonard's semen into her vaginal opening.
all the way—
until her knees were behind her shoulders and the backs of her calves were actually propping up her head! An Epiphanite
and
a contortionist. This feat of course afforded Leonard a most extreme view of her sex: it pushed it out like a fruit tart baked a bit too long, a crack forming to reveal the filling. The face on her craned neck shot him the most wicked of grins, then, as she promptly rubbed that big handful of Leonard's semen into her vaginal opening.
Leonard could not desist from asking: "
What...
are you...
doing?
"
What...
are you...
doing?
"
She massaged it in with her fingers, then scraped the rest off as one might scrape remnant icing off a rubber spatula. "I want your come in me," she replied, still grinning at him through the valley of her breasts. "I wanna get pregnant."
"What!" Leonard jolted.
"Solly would go completely nuts if I got knocked up. He'd think one of the congregation did it—the old fucker'd probably have a stroke!"
"I see," Leonard said, though he really didn't.
"Now come here," she said, her grin brighter and even more intent. Her finger curled at him between her legs. "Get me off now," she said. "Put your finger in me."
Leonard crawled forward to the summons and inserted his index finger into the slick wide-open pink blossom. At once the slippery pass gripped him—her vagina was very adroitly sucking his finger!—and then she said more gustily, "Put another finger in..."
In went Leonard's middle finger now, parallel to his index. He drew them in and out with deliberation. It was fascinating, and fascinating too the way the inside of her thighs were covered with fine blond hair. No wax job here, for sure. He stroked her legs with his other hand, reveling at the traceable down-like covering. Sericeous, he guessed the word was. An equally fascinating wisp traveled up to her navel.
"Put the other two in," she breathed.
Oh, well. Leonard complied, as he had always tried to be an accommodating person. But Esther proved even more accommodating—in a different sense, of course—when she next requested: "Put your whole hand in now, and make a fist..."
Leonard's lips sputtered when he exhaled. "My whole
fist?
Won't that hurt?"
fist?
Won't that hurt?"
"Just do it!"
Leonard did it, even to his own amazement. Esther's sex tightly swallowed his entire fist, churning around it like a spasmodic sac.
"Shove it in and out! Hard!"
Leonard gulped. In and out, then, his arm locomoted. Soon his hand was buried three inches past the wrist.
"Twist your fist around too! Jesus! Don't you know how to fist-fuck?"
"Well, no," Leonard ashamedly admitted.
But I'm learning.
Now his fist plunged back and forth, revolving at the same time. When he looked up, Esther's cheeks billowed. Her face puffed hot-pink, her eyes narrowed to white slivers. Then a series of shrieks accompanied a series of vaginal clenches which hurt Leonard's hand in the process. Then she finished off, a gruff noise belting from her throat "Oh-oh-oh-
ooooooooooooooo! Yeah-shit-fuckin'-A!"
But I'm learning.
Now his fist plunged back and forth, revolving at the same time. When he looked up, Esther's cheeks billowed. Her face puffed hot-pink, her eyes narrowed to white slivers. Then a series of shrieks accompanied a series of vaginal clenches which hurt Leonard's hand in the process. Then she finished off, a gruff noise belting from her throat "Oh-oh-oh-
ooooooooooooooo! Yeah-shit-fuckin'-A!"
Leonard guessed that about said it all. When she'd settled down she looked at him through a sated smile and—
pop!—
quickly flexed her pelvic and abdominal muscles to eject Leonard's hand. But Leonard's heart surged when he noticed
her
hands...
pop!—
quickly flexed her pelvic and abdominal muscles to eject Leonard's hand. But Leonard's heart surged when he noticed
her
hands...
"Your hands! My God, what's wrong!"
She unfolded herself to a slouched sitting position, looked at her hands, and frowned. Blood welled up plenteously in each palm, dripping onto the couch, and her feet, too, bled profusely from non-existent wounds.
"Oh, dammit! Happens every time. I get the stigs whenever I come good."
This alarming event didn't seem to bother her in the least. She pulled her stockings back up over her bloody feet, rebuttoned her dress, and wiped her bloody hands off on her sides.
"Look, I'm really sorry about the mess."
Leonard stared. "That's...quite all right."
"I mean, I'll clean it up. Where's the kitchen? I'll get some wet rags."
"No no no no no," Leonard replied at bit too hastily.
Your grandfather's pig is in the kitchen, and it's dead.
Two drug addicts beat it to death because it ate their heroin, but that's...another story.
"I'll get it cleaned up in a jiff," he said instead.
Your grandfather's pig is in the kitchen, and it's dead.
Two drug addicts beat it to death because it ate their heroin, but that's...another story.
"I'll get it cleaned up in a jiff," he said instead.
She got up and he escorted her to the door. "I better get back now before they get wise." Then she kissed Leonard right on the lips, inadvertently smearing blood on his Van der Graaf Generator shirt. "You're a nice guy...and a great fist fucker!"
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