Chapter 7

That fatuous smile. He knew he was grinning like an idiot but couldn't help it. Ridiculous, Boyd thought, bringing the roach to his lips and taking a last puff before he reached out and dropped the stick of pot, so short now that it felt hot to his fingers, into the ash tray at the center of the table.

It was nice, though. He had to admit that the effect was pleasant. His body was so light, so buoyant. He closed his eyes. Faith's voice came to him from afar. A schoolgirl giggle. She was happy. It was good. He wanted her to be happy, just as he was.

How strange. How fantastically odd. Liquid... he was turning into liquid. It was a pleasant sensation. He sighed and let it come. The chair would no longer contain him. All the bones in his body were gone now. Somehow the fluid managed to retain a resemblance of Boyd Dunston, and clung together in a slushy whole.

With no bones to support the oozy mass his body had become, he began to slip from the chair. Like the cartoon cat who is thrown against the fence and flows liquidlike down onto the ground, Boyd felt himself flowing out of the chair. How smooth, how graceful it was. Very slowly he flowed from the chair in utter contentment. His feet stopped under the center of the table. They refused to go any farther, and began to dissolve and puddle. His legs also puddled at that point and joined his now completely fluid feet.

His buttocks passed over the edge of the chair painlessly, flowed easily down onto the floor and were sucked into the puddle he was becoming. Spineless and flexible, his torso slithered snakelike out of the chair and slurped into the liquid mass on the floor. The carpet began to absorb him, his fluid self soaking into the fabric and spreading like ink dropped onto a blotter, fusing with it, becoming a stain, a permanent part of the carpet.

Panic gripped him. His head was still on the chair, balanced precariously on the edge of the seat and separated from the rest of his rapidly disappearing body. The head wanted to dive off the chair and into the fluid that was his body, to become a part of the stain on Lucia's carpet, to remain there forever and feel bliss again and again as Lucia walked over the spot. The head floundered, could not make it, was left behind.

Groaning aloud at the unbearable separation, Boyd jerked open his eyes. He blinked. He was back sitting in the chair. The others were still at the table, grinning at him, giggling. He hadn't turned to fluid at all! It had seemed so real, so real!

Looking from one face to the next, his gaze moved around the table. Lucia sat beside him. Her eyes danced with evil, an awesome and beautiful thing to behold. Bess looked bored. Piss on Bess. Tanya, licking her lips and smiling at him. Lovely. Tanya, exotic Tanya. Dirk, masterful and confident, with his arm about Faith's naked shoulders, his hand cupping her tit. Faith, sighing as she rubbed her neck against Dirk's leather-covered arm, smiling and looking Boyd in the eye. Buck, big black Buck, the jolly black giant. Faith's arm dangled across Buck. Her hand was moving in his lap. Then Harold. Fat Harold, devouring Boyd with his eyes, as if he knew Boyd would soon be his.

Lucia got to her feet. "I think we're all in the mood to see a little exhibition, now. Clear the table, Bess."

The bored expression melted from Bess' face. She jumped to her feet and picked a tray off the floor beside her chair. Moving around the table, she picked up each glass and put it on the tray. Harold's pudgy hand patted affectionately at her butt.

"Stop it, Harold!" she snapped. "I'm really not your type, am I? What's the matter? Boyd got you so worked up that all rumps look alike to you?" She laughed, turning her head back to throw him a mocking look. Then she jerked her body quickly, her swaying tit splatting resoundingly into Harold's face. She picked up the tray, backing away from the table and laughing uproariously.

"Okay, Tanya," Lucia said with a grin. "Feed Faith and Boyd some of that sweet chocolate box."

Her eyes gleaming in anticipation, Tanya stood and ripped off her skimpy sarong. One brown foot came onto her chair, then the other. Careful not to tip the table, Tanya placed one foot at its center and then stepped up. Looking from first Boyd to Faith, then back again, she stroked sensually at her upper thighs and lower belly. Her hand cupped over her cunt and pressed, her eyes closing for a second as she savored the moment.

With her eyes still closed, Tanya asked, "Which one first, Lucia? The Southern Gentleman, or his lily white lady?"

Fascinated, Boyd watched as Tanya turned toward him and slowly sank her middle finger up into her pussy. It came back out just as slowly, glistening now with a coating of her slippery, clear fluid. Again she inserted the finger into herself, this time cooing Boyd's name as it disappeared.

"The Southern Gentleman's too eager," Lucia chuckled. "See how he's licking his lips? Feed his lady first. Faith has never tasted cunt, have you, baby," Lucia asked, turning to see Faith's reaction.

The sight made Lucia howl with glee. There sat Faith, her face clearly showing terror at the prospect of putting her mouth to the Negress' crotch. She shook her head and tried to rise. She couldn't get to her feet. Every time she got her butt off the chair, it plopped right back down. But her hands were under the table, one wrapped tightly around Dirk's hard cock, the other gripping Buck, as far as possible. She could not or would not release their organs, even as Tanya knelt and struck her cunt-slick finger into Faith's open mouth.

"Lick it clean, Scarlet," Tanya taunted, twisting and wiping her finger on Faith's tongue.

"Noo," Faith moaned, jerking her head to the side. Both her hands came from under the table and shoved at Tanya's hand.

Everyone thought it was funny. Even Boyd couldn't restrain himself from joining in the loud burst of laughter.

"Hold her," Lucia hissed.

Buck and Dirk stifled their heehaws and each took one of Faith's upper arms, sitting her firmly back down into her seat. They held her there as Lucia came around the table and stopped directly behind Faith's chair.

"Pretty girl... pretty girl," Lucia murmured, stroking the palm of her right hand over the back of Faith's head. "I could come to love you, Faith. I may take you away from Boyd completely and let you live with Dirk and me. You can sleep in the middle. We'll both make love to you every night. Would you like that, baby? Would you?"

"NO!" Faith screamed. "You're insane... completely insane!"

Fingers gripped into Faith's hair and jerked her head roughly back until she was staring up at the ceiling. Lucia's face came over her, a wicked smile playing at her lips.

"We'll see, baby," Lucia said, "we'll see. You're made for sex. Before this party is over you'll find that out. We're gonna turn you on, doll. All the way on!"

The smile faded from Lucia's mouth. Her tongue licked at her parting lips, moistening them as her face descended closer and closer to Faith's.

Unable to move anything but her legs, Faith watched wide-eyed as Lucia's moist, red lips came ever closer to her mouth. The tip of her pink tongue licked nervously at her own lips. Lucia meant to kiss her, Faith realized. Lust glittered in Lucia's half-closed eyes as Faith looked pleadingly up into them. "No, Lucia... no please don't," Faith asked timorously.

Lucia ignored her pleas. She brought her lips lightly into contact with Faith's, rubbing gently from side to side, brushing Faith's lips with her own. "Yes, Faith... oh, yes, baby," she whispered, her lips flitting in a butterfly-like caress as she formed the words with her mouth against Faith's.

Then Lucia could stand it no more. She groaned aloud and opened her mouth wide, covering Faith's mouth entirely with her lips. Her hand shot up and fingers pressed at Faith's chin until her mouth came open. Lucia jabbed in with her tongue, tasting the sweetness of Faith's oral cavity. She licked at Faith's tongue, the walls of her cheeks, the roof of her mouth, sighing all the while and rocking her face with her eyes clamped tightly shut.

At first Faith remained passive. There was nothing she could do to prevent what was happening to her. But she didn't have to like it, and was determined to show no response whatsoever. It was perverted for one woman to kiss another like Lucia was kissing her. It was wicked, unnatural. She shut her eyes to it.

The tongue kept at her, caressing her tongue, her cheeks, darting about inside her mouth, the face rocked on above her, soft and velvety. Lucia's perfume caught in her nostrils as she drew in a breath. Soft lips, soft face, erotic scent, small darting tongue that continually caressed the inside of her mouth. Perverted? Was it really? Yes. But nice... nice.