Chapter 11A

I sat dumbfounded while viewing my first foreign language film, so amazed, that at first I didn't feel Martha nudge me with her elbow in the dark theater until she did so insistently. I turned to her. She wiggled her fingers near my face. Understanding, I took her hand in mine. She smiled contentedly and hugged our clasped hands against her thigh over her skirt. She rubbed my arm cozily, and turned back to the movie.

I had never seen such a film. The movie was "Bicycle Thief," which had been released years earlier. The lilting rhythm of the original, unedited Italian dialogue rolling off the actors' lips, the newness of their attitudes and the earthy acting style -- all of it had me, as had happened so often since I arrived in New York, sitting with my eyes bulging and my mouth open.

When we left the cinema I was dazed. Everything I knew about acting and theater production and movie making had been expanded beyond my expectations. I sat wordlessly at our late dinner in a Greenwich Village coffee shop.

Martha asked, "Is anything wrong? You look lost."

I explained with difficulty, "My brain is working overtime."

And it was. So many impressions were striking me at once that I was soon exhausted trying to sort them out and keep track. And this was only my third day in New York!

We took a long walk all the way uptown to her apartment, during which I had to inspect every store window and peer around corners to see what was there. It seemed every inch of Third Avenue presented something new and exotic. Martha was pleased that I was so enchanted.

"It's a little intimidating," I remarked as we strolled with Martha hugging my arm.

"It doesn't really frighten you, does it?"

"It's a lot like being in the middle of something that has no beginning and no end. And that movie -- now I have to learn about the theater all over again. From scratch. All of this... it just keeps going, doesn't it? It never stops."

"Oh, it stops. At around 4 A.M., for an hour or so."

In her apartment as we prepared for bed, Martha told me about the schedule for tomorrow. I had Fiore at ten, and Ronnie would meet me at noon where she worked at 33rd and Madison. She would take me to the eyeglass dealer and help me choose a set of frames. Then I was free, until Martha returned at around five. Martha would wake at six and be ready to go to a meeting at Columbia by seven.

"I dread these things," she said, slipping out of her skirt. "So political, so artificial. Everything is numbers, bureaucrats, committees. For such educated people, there seems to be no one person who can do or decide anything alone."

I watched her. She removed her bra, her panties. She stood naked, her flesh glowing in the lamplight. She reached into a drawer for her pajamas -- blue ones this time -- and started unfolding them.

My balls ached. I was accustomed to her making the first move or giving the first signals. Holding back, I felt myself tremble. I looked down at my shaking hands. How long, I asked, would I continue to be so unsure of a woman who so obviously desired me? Or was it just the vitamins and Fiore's workout? Or was this really me, my new sexuality more demanding than ever before? Almost always, sex with Martha was prefaced by moments of relaxed conversation and touching. There was usually some kind of emotional warm-up that led to physical results. What I felt now was spurred by stronger emotional and physical energies than I was accustomed to.

Standing in my underwear, I looked at her nakedness as she talked about the meeting and unbuttoned her neatly packed pajama top. She was luscious. Her breasts were so perfect and firm they barely jiggled as her hands worked at the buttons. She stood with one leg on the floor and one knee on the bed as she rambled on. She had the pajama shirt unbuttoned and would soon have it on, covering her pink tipped breasts.

I stopped arguing within myself. I walked to the bedside lamp and turned it off. She stopped talking and looked up at me. I stared daringly into her wondering face as I approached her. I dipped my head, licked a breast, found her nipple with my tongue, and sucked.

I heard her murmur a surprised, "Hmm. Hon." Her fingers held the breast to my mouth and I suckled gently. I raised my head and placed my lips into the warm hollow of her throat. She sighed pleasurably as I kissed and licked my way up her long neck. I looked at her. She looked at me with sultry playfulness, her eyes narrowed.

She said, "Well. That was nice."

I held her by her shoulders and gently laid her on the bed. She lay with her legs spread, smiling at me languidly from the dark as I removed my underwear. She saw that I was already stiff. I walked to the end of the bed, my dick wobbling, and knelt on the mattress near her feet. She pulled her knees up and opened her thighs and waited. I moved forward, and placed my head directly over her pubis, gently spreading her cunt with my fingers, and gave her a long, slow, wet lick along her slit, from bottom to top.

She gave a small gasp and breathed, "Oh! We're not wasting any time, now, are w--?" She stopped talking and gasped again as I gave her another lick, then gave a long breath outward as I began a slow rhythm of lingering licks that soon had her sighing, "Oh hon. Yes."

Perhaps it was the lecherous hunger in my mouth and movements that heated her so quickly. I raised my head to look at her smooth, thicklipped, attractive pussy. After only a moment of licking, her nub was bared, defenseless, already swollen and ready. She looked down at me as I dipped my tongue toward her button. I licked, circling slowly. She uttered a quietly steamy "Ah" and gritted her teeth and watched my eyes watching hers. Then her eyes closed, her neck taut, and her raised knees fell aside and opened her smooth thighs, and against my shoulders and neck and cheeks I felt the heat and the throbs and flexing of the tendons of her inner thighs as they yawned wide to receive and enjoy my mouth on her. I left her clit and used the tip of my tongue to draw small vertical ovals on her, laving the rim and inner ledge of her firm cuntlips, all around but not touching her clit, and her body tensed. I made more of the teasing ovals and then gently sucked her clit.

She caught her breath. "Ah. Nice."

I settled my mouth onto her mound. Yearningly I started sucking her clit the way she might suck my longer cock, using my lips as a warm cone sliding up and down her stiffening length. Her thighs stiffened. She gave a hushed, surprised "Oh!" Her head fell back and she gasped irregularly, her hips arching. Unrelenting, I sucked and stroked with my wet inner lips in a steady cadence, feeling the smooth swell of her furrowed mound against my mouth, feeling her thighs flutter. Soon I heard her moan achingly toward the ceiling, "It's so good. Oh, it's so GOOD!" It did not take long for her to signal that she was near cumming. Her entire body quivered briefly, then her thighs widened even more and she began a slow, irregular, sensuous writhing of her hips. I continued to suckle and lick, my mouth patient and ardent, and I was delighted when I felt the stiffening and heard the broken breathing that told me she was climbing swiftly toward a climax.

I stopped, with Martha still gasping and writhing. I rose over her, my erection swaying, my tip glistening in the dark. I knelt over her with my knees astride her head. She looked up, her face flooded with excitement, her eyes questioning. I grasped the headboard as I raised my hips and dangled my cock over her mouth. Her eyes narrowed wickedly and she gave a low chuckle and whispered, "Yes." She reached behind her head and bunched the pillow so that her head leaned forward comfortably. She smiled into my eyes as she lathered her tongue inside her mouth and then extended her tongue to slowly and completely wet me with long, lingering, curling licks, often re-wetting her tongue to keep the licking warm and drippy. Rapidly my cock hardened more, until it ached. I looked down at her, and I was surprised to hear myself murmur so lecherously, "Yeah. Ahh, yeah. It's good," and as the pleasure began eating its way into my very bones I clenched my jaws and whispered through my teeth, "Suck it. Suck."

With a single movement of her head forward, her mouth enclosed me, wet and torrid, immersing me entirely with warm spit and a clinging tongue. I grunted and sighed at the poignant, itching pleasure as she drew her mouth back and along my entire length, releasing me with a muted slurp. Then she mouthed my tip gently with the soft inside of her lips. My cock throbbed, rising and falling blissfully.

"Hmm," she breathed. She smiled mischievously at me, whispering breathlessly, "I love this."

I whispered again, "Suck."

Her narrowed eyes fumed and then closed, and her mouth took me again. Her head nodded with slow, spitty, lingering sucks. Her mouth moved only an inch or two, her lips riding loosely and wetly up and down, the pressure of her tongue on the underside creating most of the tantalizing sucking effect.

I sighed hotly, looking down at her, thinking again that what Martha did when she sucked was not really sucking; it was mouth fucking, pure and simple. Martha knew how to make her mouth feel like a warm, affectionate, perpetually moving cunt. Her skill had not diminished with time; soon my cock was twitching against the roof of her mouth and I knew she'd make me cum early if this didn't stop. I gently pulled away, her mouth loosing me with a slight, sticky sound.

My eyes on hers, I watched as I slithered down, straightening my legs and settling onto her. The surprise on her face softened when she saw me rise on my arms and angle my cock toward her center. She continued to gasp, her breath wobbly and her staring eyes seeming to plead helplessly for me to fill her, telling me she was still near orgasm. My tip touched her dense, drippy outer lips. Her thighs fell open again and her pelvis lifted, her cuntlips kissing and then encircling my glans. I moved forward. And her eyes glistened and I exhaled with the pleasure of my slide into the familiar, slick, smooth, welcoming sleeve, the clinging, loving comfort of the gripping flesh of her. My shaft lurched upward, saying hello to her secret place inside, and she clinched me in return. I began to slide in and out, to luxuriate in her, with long and deep and slow and powerful and steady strokes, my butt tightening in the warm air and my belly grazing hers.