Chapter 7

We were only a few miles away from Gushing Springs when Katie said, “I’m at the peak of my cycle Sis and with as much sperm as has been swimming inside me the last few days Sis I’ve got to be pregnant. I only hope it was Lamar’s. Perry Diebold doesn’t know it, but we’ll be married within the next month. The moment I know I’ve got one in the oven we’ll be in front of a Justice of the Peace before the next day.”

“But,” I said, “You told me that you haven’t had sex with him.”

“Yeah, that I did. It’s not that he hasn’t wanted to. But the truth is, Joanie I never felt passionate about him enough to do it.”

“So why are you bothering with him at all?”

“He’s a nice guy, he takes me places. My friends like him. He’s a wimp though and he drinks too much.”

“And you’re ready to screw up your life and his because of being pregnant? Christ, it would be a lot easier to get an ... an...”

“You can’t even say it, Sis. I’m the same way. Face it, Joanie, the Catholic Church has brainwashed us too effectively. And what if you’re pregnant?”

“Brad will be home for a week after I get back. I’m going to fuck his brains out just in case.”

“I thought you said that you guys always use condoms.”

“That’s right unless he’s too lit and I have to remind him. I won’t heh, heh, heh.”

“So,” I said, “that’s the end of the story?

“Those days changed me Peter in a way I never imagined. I always love sex but after the Junkyard sex became a major part of my life in a way you won’t believe.”

“So “when did all this sexual wildness take over your soul Joanie?”

She gave me this weird laugh, shook her head, and said, “It wasn’t just MY soul Peter. Katie was just as bad. I stayed with her for the next week.

It was Wednesday when she was sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper with a perplexed smile on her face. “Look at this Sis,” she said. She showed me an article in the newspaper about a national car dealers convention in San Antonio that would be starting Thursday evening and would go through the Weekend. “Can you imagine all those horny businessmen in that nice hotel?”

I laughed and told her, “It would sure beat the dormitory at the Junkyard.” Considering the sexual trauma, she had just been through, one would think she was kidding. But on Thursday morning dressed professionally like two sexy Human Resources Managers we were in the bar of the Alamo Riverwalk Hotel getting the lay of the land. We met a couple of men from one of the largest automotive companies in Japan. In talking with us they picked up that we were there at the convention for “just a little fun.” One of the guys said he was the company’s “social director.” The other was his assistant. The social director said they were lining up “escorts” to work their hospitality suite. “You ladies would be an attractive addition to the suite and might be interested in ‘entertaining some of our dealers on a private basis.” Within an hour Katie and I split up and went with them to their rooms for our “interviews,” Katie with the Social Director and me with his Assistant.

“So, Joanie,” I asked, “How did you feel about prostituting yourself?”

“Well Peter, I thought about that for a second then grasped that I would be having orgasms in luxurious beds while not having to worry about being beaten up while being paid to do it. My disillusionment disappeared. Most of the men treated us nicely; some made us feel like princesses. Katie and I even had a party with five of one of the auto company’s top brass. The incredible thing was that Katie and I ended up with over $3000 for two nights’ work—CASH MONEY, $1500 apiece for sucking and fucking and having our pussies eaten. It was so EASY Peter. Because we were the most popular girls in the suite the Social Director guaranteed us two gigs a year and told us they would pay all of our expenses.” He said, “We have never had sisters before.”

“What did you think of that?”

“Jesus, Peter, you’re starting to sound like a fucking psychiatrist?”

“Yeah, I guess, but you want me to write your story, right?” She gave me a thumbs up. “As an author writing another person’s story, I have to get to know you as well as possible so I can get into your head and memorize the corners of your room. It will b my job to represent you in print as accurately as possible. From what I’ve learned so far that after being brutally gang raped by the Wreckers and then Bull and Norma Jean throwing a change of pace by treating you in such a loving way, you decided to change your lifestyle?”

“It wasn’t exactly that way Peter. At the Junkyard, we were prisoners subjected to offensive sexual perversions. What Katie and I endured that first day and night no woman should ever go through. But by being ravished by Bull and given the gift of his humongous cock that was used in such tender sexual persuasion made the abuse and perversion seem almost necessary to appreciate in retrospect. It was eye-opening.

And something else happened. Most women only know one cock at a time. For me, once I experienced more than one cock and got over the aggressive discomfort of it, I couldn’t believe how fulfilling sucking and fucking at the same time could be. When the incredible confusion of what was going on in my mind began to clarify I realized that what started as living hell became its own reward in the realm of basic training. Since then, I have had gigs involving multiple partners, both men, and women, and sometimes together. I have to confess Peter, I LOVE it—often CRAVE it.

“And the bisex?”

“When Norma Jean introduced us to bisexual loving, which I had considered one of the ultimate perversions (both Katie and I agree on this) it made us more complete sexual human beings. On the way back to New Braunfels we talked about the itch Norma Jean caused, an itch we couldn’t scratch while driving. When we got back to Katie’s place we scratched those itches abundantly in the delight of complete sisterly love.”

As far as gang rape is concerned, we recall a despicable group of men trying to degrade us. It was frightening, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful ... certainly humiliating. After the fact though, we had to overcome the feeling of humiliation (and many women don’t). We could no longer experience the pain and discomfort in our memories. Incredibly, once we accepted that the cocks were inside, the pleasurable feelings amplified, and we will never forget how intense the pleasure of those engorged, moving organs brought amid our discomfort. During that second week of my vacation in Texas, it was as if Katie and I groveling for cocks before I came back to New Jersey.”

Her comment about “gigs” and “multiple cocks” lit a bulb in my brain. She and I were only enjoying each other’s company because I told her I authored erotic stories which turned her on to tell me hers. I realized that Joanie was not only the source of only ONE amazing story but might be the source of many. For a writer, our being together was like finding the mother lode in a goldmine ... with benefits.

Giving me an almost frightening, predatory look, she blurted, “God damn it, Peter, talking about stuff like this makes me wet at both ends. Are you hard?”

Wondering what she was up to I said, “To be honest with you Joanie every conversation with you gives me a hard-on to some extent.”

“Pull it out and let me see.”

I had been learning that Joanie was not an ordinary female who at this point, wasn’t going to take her for granted so I zipped down and exposed my downward-arced semi-erection.

She laughed and said, “Shit Peter, I never think of cocks as being soft anymore. In my mind, they are always hard. So, I know I can take care of what you’re showing me in a matter of seconds,” and dropped to her knees in front of me. It was the first time I had ever pulled out my cock for a woman who was demanding that I do it rather than me commanding or suggesting what she was going to do.

She was ravenous. Her mouth and tongue slurped, sucked, and licked. She had shown me before that she took pride in the way she involved herself in fellatio which in the motion of her bobbing and educated tongue she had me quickly on the verge of ejaculation. She already knew how long I could hold out but was eager to get me off. Looking into her expectant eyes I knew she wanted the full force of what I was holding in. As I relaxed and the muscles of my penis Joanie nodded her head rapidly in compliance. Letting go, my knees buckled as I raggedly said, “Oh fuck,” threepeatedly filled her mouth with my ample jism which she swallowed in one gulp and then fell backward on the floor.

With a strange but mischievous look, she let out a long breath of air and said, “I just love this Peter.”

Just then there was a wrap on the door. With raised eyebrows that wrinkled her brow, she said, “That would be Mary Catherine.” Extending her right hand to me she said, “Help me up.”

Using my better judgment, I retreated to the bathroom to clean myself off and readjust as Joanie said, “Chicken,” as she headed for the door.

Only in the bathroom for a few minutes, I came out to see my freshly finished fellator in the arms of a slightly taller: nicely dressed, attractive, elegant-looking woman locked in an enthusiastic, open-mouthed kiss. Both were hyperventilating as the woman’s hand was under Joanie’s skirt between her legs moving in a fierce circular motion, her orgasm happening as quickly as I had come. “Damn that was good,” she said as the woman caressed her hair.”

“Your lips are so soft.”

“Yep,” Joanie said, “Isn’t it a trip the way sucking a hard cock will do that Cat?”

The woman looked at me and said, “I apologize for Joanie’s overzealous preoccupation, Peter. I’m Mary Catherine McConnell. We have been best friends for a couple of years now.”

Joanie said, “Mary Catherine and I worked in the bookstore at St. Coleman Church. She was a nun when we first met. I like to think I’m the one who pushed her over the edge, but she had been trying to leave the order for years. Now she works conventions with me.”

It was a lot for me to digest. I remembered that Mary Catherine was coming but I had no idea who she was. During the blowjob, I had just gotten I forgot about her entirely. Now looking at the gorgeous, elegant woman I could see how impressive she would have looked in a nun’s habit.

“I Lied to you Peter,” Joanie said. “When I told you that you were the only one I told the story of the Junkyard to I figured that what you didn’t know about any of my other personal affairs was of no consequence. And when you told me you authored erotic stories I thought you would write my story, under a different name of course. But when I told Cat, she said she might be interested in giving it a go. Yesterday morning I called Cat and told her what happened and that you wrote that kind of stuff she asked me if I knew your name. When I told her Peter Duncan she almost came through the phone, telling me that she had read your stuff—was a fan of SOL—and you wrote stories about nuns. That’s why I asked you to meet her. She’s my best friend and business associate in the escort business. Small world, huh?”