An As Yet Untitled Account

Lefty never welshed on a promise. He'd always said I could have my old job back at the plant when I came home, and sure enough, here I was. Funny, I'd thought about the old berg a lot while I was in Germany and somehow it wasn't what I remembered. Nothing had changed, really. Everything just seemed.... small, somehow.

Lefty insisted on putting me up until I could find a place to stay, and that was swell of him, but I could tell his wife wasn't too keen on another mouth to feed and more laundry to do, with two kids already underfoot and a husband to look after. Pretty soon I was more than ready to move out.

The factory had been converted to making stuff for the war, and I was going be in charge of helping it shift back to consumer goods. Dull stuff, but I was ready for some dull. Lefty insisted on introducing me around, and I had to pull him aside to ask him to lay off the "my friend the war hero" stuff.

"Lefty, I saw exactly fifteen minutes of combat, got dinged in the ass, and spent a week in the hospital. A purple heart a hero does not make." Lefty bucked a little, but he laid off. Most of the workers were still women. Not many men had yet come home to reclaim their old jobs, and some would never be back. Now, a boss, especially a new boss, is nobody's idea of what they want on the job.... yet still it seemed I got more than my share of cold shoulder, especially from the girl being demoted to make room for me. I tried to make small talk and she wasn't having any. Well, I've survived worse.

The bulletin board in the factory cafeteria had the usual notices, and I was browsing out of boredom one day when one stood out. Beautiful cursive handwriting on a piece of oak tag. "Room to rent, meals included". No phone number, just a name and address. I pried up the thumb tack and stuffed the card in my shirt pocket.

After work, I set out on foot to find the place. Maple Street. Quiet. Rows of smallish houses done up in Gothic style. The place I was looking for had a well kept yard, but was in dire need of a fresh coat of paint. A service star banner hung in the door window. I stepped up and knocked, no answer. I waited a couple minutes and tried again. Still no dice. Well, if I was supposed to be a 'war hero' I might as well show some initiative. I jumped the porch rail and headed to the back yard. Bingo.

Partially hidden by a fluttering pillowcase, arms bare and a clothes pin in her mouth. She was startled by my arrival, and the clothes pin fell out. I apologized and said I was there about the room. She looked me up and down and said, "Well, make yourself useful and then we can discuss it". As we finished hanging her laundry, I got a good chance to look her over.

There had been a guy in my unit who was an absolute whiz at airplane identification. When we went out drinking, he amused everyone by giving assessments of the proportions of the girls at the bar.

I wondered what numbers he might assign to my prospective landlady. My estimate was 36-24-34. Five five, late thirties. Copper color hair, hazel eyes. Pale skin with a dusting of freckles. I didn't know it yet, but I was going to get a lot more closely acquainted with her attributes.

Inside, the house was cool and dim, neat and clean. She offered me a seat and said, "I suppose you have a job."

I began to tell her that I was the new foreman at the factory when her scowl cut me off. I asked what was wrong. "Nothing," she said curtly. "You're the reason the room is for rent. I got laid off there two weeks ago"

I felt as if maybe I was about to go from the frying pan and into the fire. Would this place be even less comfortable than living with Lefty's family? Fortunately I had the presence of mind not to make excuses for her being laid off, something I couldn't do anything about. The scowl subsided. She showed me a small and immaculately kept room with a bed that looked so comfortable I wanted to lie down on it then and there. Breakfast and dinner were included, provided I showed up on time. I didn't even ask the rent and blurted, "When can I move in?" One corner of her mouth quirked up in a half smile. She said that any time would be fine. My adventure with Emily Price had begun.

Over dinner that night I learned that her husband had been killed in Normandy, and the way she said it told me it wasn't a topic to bring up again. She owned the house outright; it had been a wedding gift from her parents. In the army, I had been on report more than my share of times and had done plenty of KP duty as a result. We fell into a routine. She cooked and I did the dishes.

That summer was unusually hot. Food, though no longer rationed, wasn't back to prewar abundance. She had somehow laid hands on an entire chicken and was determined to fry it, hot weather or no.

Even with a fan blowing, the kitchen felt like an inner circle of Hell.

I stood well away from the scene of battle as she cooked.

She wore a thin cotton dress that was almost transparent from wear and washing.

I could easily see the outline of her undergarments.

Suddenly, she cursed under her breath, snatched off her apron and stomped off to the bedroom. When she emerged, it was obvious she had removed her bra and panties. All that now stood between my eyes and her charms was the cotton dress.

I guess my stare was a bit too direct. She raised one eyebrow and gave me a look that seemed to dare me to make any comment. When we sat down to eat, my embarrassment was only made worse.

Eventually, she put down her fork and said, "You know, the more you try not to look, the more it's obvious you want to look! My word! One would think you'd never seen breasts before." I refrained from saying what I was thinking: none as nice as that. Somehow, half hidden, her tits were twice as alluring than if she were entirely nude.

When I got up to clear the table, I hoped the erection in my pants wasn't apparent. As I stood doing dishes, she came up behind me, reaching around to put a cup in the sink. "You missed one, Tom" she said softly, pressing her tits into my back.

One evening someone joined us for dinner. Kathy was an old friend, a member of Emily's crew at the factory. Kathy did her best to be rude to me, but I got the sense it was more than resentment over men coming back to dislodge women from jobs.

After dinner, I asked Emily about it. She sighed and gave me a long look.

"She's jealous, Tom, She thinks we're sleeping together."

I spluttered, "Even if that were true, why should she care?"

Emily shook her head. "Because I used to sleep with her, Tom."

Of all the things I might have said, out popped, "Why did you stop?"

Emily burst out laughing. "We got into a fight over whose turn it was to lick!"|

It was my turn to laugh.

When we subsided, Emily's look was appraising. "You like the idea."

I stammered, "What? Huh?"

Emily stepped close, not breaking her gaze. Her breasts were in imminent danger of collision with my chest. Her voice lowered. "You like the idea of me and Kathy, naked, rubbing up against each other, getting all worked up and wet, getting ready for you to join in with a nice stiff prick."

Emily stood silent and my mouth felt full of cotton. After a moment she stepped away and gave a short laugh. "As close as you'll ever get might be you and Kathy competing to see whether your cock could outperform her strap on dildo". I laughed out loud, but Emily didn't join in. I decided to change the subject.

Emily picked up work here and there, mending clothes, babysitting, but gradually we just started living as if we were a partnership. If something needed to be fixed or replaced, I paid for it out of my salary from the factory. Mid summer, sitting on the porch sipping iced tea, I proposed to Emily that I paint the house. She looked at me askance. "Have your ever painted a house?" I reluctantly admitted that I had not. "Have you ever painted anything?" My face told the tale and she laughed. "Go ahead if you want to, Tom, but the cost of the paint comes out of your pocket."

I had an ace up my sleeve. The factory was in the midst of taking bids for the job of repainting the whole interior and exterior. I not so reluctantly accepted the bribe of a supply of house paint in exchange for awarding the contract. Emily was well known and well liked. It wasn't difficult to reprise Tom Sawyer. I enlisted a bunch of women to come help paint the house.

Emily chose to work a bit of mischief with the project, aimed at teasing me.

The women who showed up to paint ranged from college and high school girls on summer break to adult women laid off from the factory. At first I thought it was just my imagination. It was reasonable that the unusually hot summer would cause the women to dress as lightly as possible. I didn't know that Emily had coordinated a gradual increase in exposure each day in order to arouse and torment me.

I was up on a ladder, struggling to finish painting a window frame, when I heard Emily's voice below. She was holding a glass of lemonade, and wearing a home made halter top. My perspective, as she intended, was to look directly down into her lush and ample cleavage. I froze a moment and a drop of paint dripped off my brush. Naturally, it landed on one of her tits and she let out a squeal of dismay. I rushed down and she pretended to be helpless.

"Well, wipe it off before it dries, Tom!|"

Suddenly a cluster of girls surrounded us, all chattering and giggling as they 'accidentally' brushed their bodies up against me.

I fumbled with a rag, but only seemed to be spreading the paint around. It didn't help that Emily wouldn't hold still. Eventually someone snatched the rag from my hand, saying, "Here, let me."

She cupped Emily's breast firmly in one hand and wiped with the other, dipping below the border of the halter top "just to be sure."

When she finished and drew back, Emily caught her wrist and drew the girl close. "Thanks, Betty," she said, leaning forward to plant a lingering kiss on the teenager's lips. All the girls standing by us burst into giggles. It was, I guess, funny, but in both ways. No gasps of shock, not even one? What had females been up to in this town while the men were away?

The next day, the game escalated. I was on one side of the house working and heard my name shouted from the front. I trotted around the corner, and there was a woman on the ground,, clutching her leg in pain. Emily crouched by her side.

"Tom, can you help me get Doris inside? I need to put some ice on this."

Doris looked up at me and half grimaced half smiled when I pulled her up. She met my eyes and said, "I'm sorry, I can't. Could you carry me?" Well, I'm no Tarzan, but I had little trouble complying. The petite girl was 50 percent legs, 50 percent tits, and 100 percent lightweight sex appeal. I planted Doris in a living room chair as asked, and Emily went to fetch some ice.

Doris hiked up her skirt and peered at her leg. I pretended not to stare. Emily returned and crouched down. "Tom, come hold her skirt out of the way, I don't want the ice to get it wet." I got down and gingerly tried to grab the fabric without touching the girl herself. "For God's sake, Tom, she's not made of glass! Lift it higher!" I did, and the way Doris was holding her legs apart I suddenly had a direct view under the skirt. No underwear impeded my gaze. Doris, I estimated, was about age 19, but she was as hairless there as the day she'd been born. I don't much keep up with women's fashions, but even I knew this was radical. I gulped. Glancing up, I saw that Doris was looking down at me like the cat that ate the canary, all smiles.

Of course, this was only phase one of the charade. Since Doris couldn't walk home, Emily insisted that she stay the night and rest up. I of course volunteered to give up my bedroom and sleep on the couch. What I didn't realize was that no one was going to be doing much sleeping that night.

When nature woke me a few hours later, I made my way down the narrow hall towards the bathroom.

I passed my bedroom, and the door was wide open. I was surprised to see Doris wasn't in the bed. I supposed I might have to wait my turn at the bathroom.

Midway down was Emily's room, and the door was ajar. Soft light from the room spilled into the hall. The faint sound of groans drifted to my ears. Was Doris still in pain, and Emily playing nurse?

I knew I shouldn't but I stopped at the door and looked in. The bedclothes were bunched up on the floor by the bed. Splayed out on the sheet, Doris lay on her back completely nude, arms raised above her head, wrists tied to the rails of the iron headboard. Although she was squirming, it didn't look as if she were trying to get free.

Emily was standing by the side of the bed, leaning over Doris.

One of her hands took turns pinching and pulling first one of Doris nipples, then the other. Emily's other hand was between the girls legs, rubbing in a languid circular motion. At closer proximity, the groans Doris was making resolved into words. She was repeating every few seconds, "Please.... please,"

Please stop? Please don't stop? Evidently I wasn't Emily's only target for teasing.

Emily reached over to the bedside table and picked up a bottle, pouring lotion into one palm.

She smeared this first onto the girl's tits then onto the hairless mound, and began to stroke her fingertips lightly over both areas, barely touching. As Doris' squirming and begging redoubled, Emily let out a soft chuckle. Tears of frustration were now running down the girl's face, and Emily relented.

She removed her dressing gown and let it drop to the floor. I held my breath. Unlike the girl, Emily had a full thatch between her legs. Like the hair on her head, it was the color of hammered copper. Her nipples were rosy red and stood out like a pair of bullets. Every inch of her creamy white skin bore a light dusting of freckles.

She climbed onto the foot of the bed and grabbed the girls legs. Knees folded and pressed now almost against her chest, Doris was more helpless than before. Emily put her crotch against the girls and wiggled around a bit to establish a satisfactory position.

After some brief grinding, Emily settled into steady humping. I had a perfect view of her plump bottom clenching and releasing as it thrust back and forth. The women began to make a sort of music at each push. Doris a guttural "ooof" and Emily a deep "Mmmm". Emily gradually picked up speed. As as her thrusts grew more aggressive, Doris' grunts turned to little squeals and her hips bucked up to meet Emily's.

After the crescendo, Doris was mewling, alternately laughing and sobbing. Emily climbed down, flushed and panting, and landed right in my line of sight. Our eyes met and I froze. She showed no sign of surprise or shame and silently gestured for me to enter the room. Hesitating, I said, "I was just on my way to the bathroom...."

"Perfect," purred Emily. "Step right up." She motioned me to join her at the side of the bed and grabbed Doris' hair. "Open up, Doris. Tom needs to piss." The girl shook her head vehemently from side to side. Now she really was struggling to get free, but the scarf around her wrists held fast.

"No, Em! I won't!"

A look of rage came over Emily's face. A sharp crack made me jump. She had slapped Doris incredibly hard and now the girl was wailing and begging. "You don't ever say no to me, bitch!

Now you're going to drink twice as much!"

She climbed back onto the bed, but this time straddled the girl's face. She laced her hands into Doris' hair and pulled hard, holding her still. "Open up, or you know what your punishment will be!" Doris' face displaced rank terror and she opened her mouth, trembling and grimacing.

Despite myself I was incredibly aroused rather than disgusted. I was dressed in just a t shirt and boxers, and I pulled the shorts off to let my stiff cock spring free.

Emily pressed down and I could see her body relax a little. She let out a long sigh of pleasure, and I could see and hear Doris gulping and choking to keep up swallowing what was rapidly streaming into her mouth. After a minute, Emily climbed down, grabbed Doris by the hair again and said, "Your turn, Tom."

I stood as if frozen and mute. Emily made a short exasperated noise. "Alright, we'll give her a fair chance. If she can suck the cum out of your prick instead, she won't have to drink your piss." I looked at Doris and she was nodding eager assent.

Awkwardly I climbed up on the bed and Emily grasped my cock, making it spasm. She chuckled and guided it to Doris' willing mouth. Doris groaned with pleasure and I realized that behind me, Emily's hand was between her legs again. I half expected Emily to direct me to forcefully fuck Doris' mouth, but that was far from necessary.

Doris lifted her head up and she pushed forward. As her mouth engulfed me I felt her lips near the base of my cock. She kept pushing and when I penetrated her throat, she held me there and gave another long moan. I realized this was for my benefit; the vibration felt fantastic. She began a long slow withdrawal, until just the head of my cock was in her mouth, swirling her tongue around it, then slowly pushed back down until I was in her throat again.. The spasms of her throat were fantastically pleasurable and I realized she was choking herself intentionally to make them happen.

As my breath grew short, Emily kissed the side of my neck. When I started to cum, she bit down lightly and the sensation somehow doubled the intensity of feeling in my cock. The sound of Doris gulping and swallowing was indescribably satisfying.

Doris was by no means the only one of her playmates that Emily introduced me to. Even as husbands began to return to the town, their wives had changed too much to completely forgo the pleasures they'd discovered while on their own. Perhaps I'll resume this tale one day, but until then, sweet dreams.