Gazing at Phil, Susie almost forgot that she was a married woman wearing a diaphanous costume that completely exposed one breast, alone with a horny young man. Perhaps Phil's ridiculous appearance, wearing a girl's panties and smeared remnants of feminine makeup while smoking a stump of a cigar, teased her sense of humor. Too, his friendly and apologetic manner pleased her. And he did not look threatening. He was of medium size, was not particularly muscular, though his body was well formed. He had brownish hair, eyes of indeterminate hue, and the pretty lips that, when she had given him the kiss of greeting, had felt so feminine on hers.
At length she said, "Phil, that's not nice to say, talking about kissing my behind!"
He frowned. She thought she saw a blush color his cheek.
He said, "I'm trying to learn to talk out my hangups, Susie. My girl friend, Willa, says I'm repressed. I've got all these inhibitions, like you have no idea how long it took me to get up the nerve to dress in drag. To see how it felt. Do you understand?"
Susie, who had just had her first glimpse into herself at what might be repressed lesbianism, recognized a fellow sufferer, and said, "I'm sorry I spoke sharply, Phil."
"Oh, that's all right. Look, I have some tea steeping. Would you like a cup?"
"That's awfully kind of you."
He darted off. Susie stood there, a finger in the clitoris section of the encyclopedia, thinking about Phil's desire to kiss her behind. It was a bit flattering, really. And his frank but shy manner was rather touching. It brought out her maternal instincts.
He returned with two of the bamboo mugs and toed a couple of footstools to position where they could sit facing. The sight of his erect penis tenting the pink panties did make her blush but she resolved to accustom herself to it. She laid her book on the floor and took the bamboo mug.
"Is it Kashmir Karma?" she asked.
"Yes. Rita's suggestion. She says it will do both of us good. I asked her to join us but she said she wants us to get acquainted. She's gone out to hoe in the garden."
Susie guessed she should not drink a second cup of the tea, considering how the first had dissolved her inhibitions. But Rita had suggested it and she trusted Rita, so she sipped it and lit another cigarette from the pack on the shelf, using the ash tray Phil had placed on the floor between them.
He said, "I've tried Gwen's yoga. But it makes me nervous, sitting in that funny position just staring at the raunchy wall posters. So Gwen said, ease off, try again during the quarter moon. Or maybe it was the full moon, I don't know."
"Have you gone back – had an experience?"
"No. I thought I'd study myself in depth, here. Now look, Susie, what happens I see you standing at the bookshelves, up on tiptoes reaching for the encyclopedia, which lifted your skirt half off those luscious cheeks, and my cock stiffened in two seconds flat! Does that sound weird?"
Susie had to agree that it didn't.
"So Susie, I thought it might be therapeutic to work out the urge, sublimate my hard on, touch your rump with just my fingertips and mouth. Dig? I know it's a lot to ask since we just met but I feel you belong here, like you're one of us."
Susie, halfway through her cup of Kashmir Karma, really did feel like one of them, at home, no longer embarrassed by the erection tenting his pink panties or her exposed right breast. Thus, sipping tea and smoking her cigarette, she pondered the matter. Considering, for instance, Rita's hospitality and her easy acceptance by both Gwen and Phil, she had certain obligations.
She asked, "Do you really think it would be therapeutic, Phil? Sort of medicinal, curative?"
"Susie, I don't know. I think I should try. Look, don't think I'll go wild and jam my cock into you. I'm really too timid for that."
"Sort of a scientific experiment, huh?"
He nodded.
Finished with her tea, Susie decided the least she could do would be to cooperate. After all, what harm was there in it? None. It simply seemed odd.
He said, "Like if you'd kneel on the stool facing the shelves…"
Very well. She got up, moved the footstool closer to the shelves so she could grip them, turned her back on Phil and knelt.
"Beautiful!" Phil cried.
She felt the skirt lifted to her waist, hung there, then fingertips tracing the forms of her cheeks and Phil's warm breath fanning them.
"Pearly," he said. "Like two full moons. You ready, Susie?"
"Yes-s!" she said, her voice hissing, quite strangely excited, gasping when a wet lash laid a cool streak on her right cheek. It ended in a light suction, which remained for a moment, followed by a gentle nibbling.
She closed her eyes.
Phil's lips wandered across her cleft to the other cheek, marked a curving course down it, suckered fast. A nibble. A pull. Moving on across the cleft again to the other, wetting and pulling and nipping flesh until the many little kisses and caresses had both cheeks tingling most pleasurably, producing a warmth that glowed right into the heart of her.
"Susie, you don't mind?"
"It feels very nice," she had to admit. "I mean, Phil, my husband is so harsh, I find this puzzling. But sweet."
He renewed his labial attack, his kisses – now voracious, circling each cheek, leaping to the other, nibbles more frequent, some a bit painful, though she came to find them strangely exciting.
He paused, breathing hotly on her lower cleft. "Susie, you're getting wet."
"I am?"
"Yes, there's drool slipping out and running down your thighs. Shall I lick it up?"
Having no tissues with which to mop up the juice, she guessed something should be done about it, or she would stain whatever she sat on.
She said, "That might be best," and moved her knees farther apart to let him get in between her thighs. And oh, the lovely wet caressing feel of his tongue down there, lapping steadily at the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs!
He murmured, "Your pussy smells great, sweet and hot."
She had to admit to herself that it felt good, too, pleasantly loose and quivering on each tongue-lash of her thighs.
She said, choking, "I suppose – it's somewhat – open?"
"Yes, and sort of blinking at me."
She thought she heard a suppressed chuckle. Teasing her.
He said, "I could lick the juice off it, too."
That, Susie thought, was going beyond their agreement but she was tempted to let him, especially as his tongue-tip slitted between her pussy lips and thighs, nudging in thrilling fashion.
He relieved her dilemma by saying, "There, kissing your ass was as sweet as I'd hoped, Susie. So now let's talk."
Sighing with regret, she climbed off the stool, turned about on it and sat facing Phil.
He began, "No good with your husband, huh?"
"He thinks a woman should scream with joy when he brutalizes her."
Phil reached to Susie and patted her knee comfortingly.
She clasped his hand, said, "I began to wonder if I wasn't a man-hater. But you're so sweet, Phil." Then her gaze fell on Volume C of the encyclopedia. She said, "I have another problem. It seems dreadful to mention it to you. Embarrassing!"
"Susie, it's my turn to try to understand."
His gaze was so sympathetic that Susie came out with it. "I have too much clit."
His eyebrow raised wonderingly, and he gazed toward her crotch. "Too much? I don't get it. Maybe you'd better show me."
Goodness, she thought. Display it to him? Oh, wow! But something made her want to show Phil, perhaps his frankly expressed desire to kiss and lick her behind, a strange sharing that seemed to make all else possible.
She said, "You won't laugh?"
"No! It might be therapeutic, Susie."
Blushing she drew back her skirt, and, sitting there on the stool, spread her cocked-up legs and fingered her pussy lips open.
Her clit was semi-erect, a glistening pink worm. She slipped a fingertip under it and raised to display it to him.
Phil's response was direct. He reached, gently lifted it off her finger and enclosed it in the warmth of his own fingertips.
She watched him toy with the little appendage, caressing it in such fashion that it quickly achieved full, horny stiffness. And it heated. It was pulsing excitedly.
"It's beautiful," Phil murmured. "Susie, clits are often hard to find, sometimes way inside. But yours, gosh, I can really hold onto it!"
She was so pleased that she leaned to Phil and kissed his cheek. Relieved! She clutched his bare shoulders and nuzzled about his face while he lightly massaged her little jinker.
"You like it?" she whispered in his ear.
"Susie, I'd like to get down on it. Lick it. You want?"
The proposal excited her, but rubbing her mouth on Phil's cheek, she gazed down at the tent in his pink panties and got rather different ideas.
She said, "No, but don't stop what you're doing."
Then she reached down his chest, down his belly to the panty waistband. She slid her fingers inside, down into a girl's panties in search of the strangest object ever found within such a garment. Her fingertips touched it. Bony hard! And hot, so hot as her fingers vined about it, caressing the stony flesh, walking out to the end of it and the great, spongy knob.
"Susie!" he gasped, as though surprised.
And she murmured in his ear, "Wow, such a hard penis. Okay if I hold it?"
"Sure, but be careful with the glans, it gets irritated."
She was dubious about the location of the glans. The head? It looked all fiery. She delved deeper into the panty crotch and found his scrotum heaped there where the garment was shaped to hug a pussy, which made her giggle. Imagine, male organs encased in nylon that had no opening through which his prick could be let out to pee! How nutty. But sensual too, feeling girl nylon on her knuckles, but the sac of plump testicles in her cupped hand. She loved the feel of them, like shelled, hard-boiled eggs, wobbling about as she jiggled them.
He said, "Susie, you're a very sensual girl, you know that? Jiggling my nuts that way."
"They're yummy nuts," Susie said, then felt a blush burn her cheek. What she had said! Nuts, to a boy. But the situation was unusual, they sitting spread-legged on stools facing, she nuzzling his cheek, he lovingly squeezing and pulling her extended clit, she with a hand in his pink panties holding his testicles, the length of his horny organ a burning brand against her forearm. She drew back enough to see his eyes and asked, "Phil, do I seem prudish? I mean, I just said nuts when I meant testicles, and it made me burn with shame."
"I was worse until Willa untied my tongue. Susie, however you talk or act, I love it."
"But that may not be the real me," she said thoughtfully, sure that this Susie in the wood-nymph tunic with one breast bare, fondling a boy's testicles in pink nylon panties, sitting on the stool with thighs winged out so he could finger her clitoris, was a girl who had not existed before, a product of Kashmir Karma and jiji, who had a scant hour before been astonished by her unmasked lesbian tendencies. Within her still lurked the Susie who was Brian's trampled wife, whose only outlet was self-abuse; a shy and probably prissy homemaker.
She felt Phil's soft lips press her forehead.
The tender kiss made her smile with pleasure. She gazed down his body to his stretched panties, where she let his scrotum rest in the pussy-shaped crotch and began fingering his rigid stem. The underside of the head pressed her wrist. It felt hot and a bit sticky. Thumb-nailing the split she found the source of this, a slight seepage. She pressed all about the sponginess of the head, found the plushy sheathing of the organ to be thick, the boniness within a rather small core. This explained why such a swollen knob could fit into a vagina, she thought, the outer softness changing shape as required.
Never before had she examined a penis in such detail. She enjoyed every moment of it, and her self-confidence grew out of Phil's patience and his obvious pleasure in their sexuality.
She glanced at her crotch, saw Phil's fingertips tugging her prong of wet pink clit. Her brown-haired pussy lips had ovalled out from it, and the glistening flesh of her cunt appeared swollen, especially the protruding lips bracketing the drooling mouth of her love hole.
Her one bare breast, with its jutting cone of nipple and engorged areola, needed attention. She plucked at Phil's free hand and brought it to the hot cap. The warmth of his palm made the livid swelling pulse excitedly.
They had done their sex backwards, she thought, first her clit, then her tittie. And now a kiss?
Yes. She nuzzled down to Phil's mouth and licked it open. She felt the strong meatiness of his tongue respond, and she sucked it to her throat.
The kiss did not last long. She was too short of breath.
He whispered, "Susie, we're going to fuck, huh?"
She, squeezing his horny prick, responded on impulse.
"Yes, Phil! Of course we will!"