Tonight, You Belong To Me

TONIGHT YOU BELONG TO ME

George Belfield was in a sweat as he climbed the

stairs in a brownstone on West 24th Street. Was she home

or was she out? Maybe she wasn't home yet. He always

liked it better when she was home. If she wasn't home he'd

have to wait for her, and any time he spent alone in the

building always unnerved him. He felt like an outsider, an

interloper, even the smells from the various kitchens

seemed totally strange to him.

Now he arrived on the landing of the third floor and

he approached her door with hesitation. He was thankful he

hadn't seen anyone on the stairs. It wasn't much past six

o'clock, and at this time in the evening there were usually

a few people climbing or descending the stairs that ran up

the center of the small building. But not this evening.

He knocked on the door. After a long moment the door

opened and Irma stood there smiling at him.

"Hello, George."

He mumbled at her. "Hello, Irma." He walked into the

foyer, and then he stood there waiting while she closed and

locked the door behind him.

"And how've you been, George?"

"Very well."

"Did you have a nice week?"

She always liked to talk about his week, ask him where

he went and what he did, all the details of the life he had

that was so totally different from her own. She wanted to

hear about the Park Avenue parties. She loved hearing

about the Park Avenue parties. She poured some Scotch

into a glass and handed it to George. He took a few sips

of the Scotch, and after that he started removing his

clothes. Irma sat down on the sofa and held her glass of

Scotch as she watched him. He removed all his clothes

except his shorts, and then he sat down on the carpet at

her feet. She smiled down at him. "Comfy,

George?"

"I'm fine, Irma."

He didn't like to look up at her when he was sitting

on the floor like this. It was too difficult, because then

their eyes would meet and he'd feel silly. He felt silly

anyway, he always did at the beginning of it, but looking

at her face would make it worse. He felt silly and at the

same time he felt excited. Sitting almost naked at her

feet while she was still dressed always thrilled him and he

could already feel his penis getting stiff. When she

wiggled one of her feet, he leaned over and kissed her

shoe. There was no need for her to tell him to do it

because they both knew the routine. She was wearing pretty

black shoes with high heels and thin ankle straps. He

kissed the point of the shoe and then her instep. The feel

of the silk stocking against his lips excited him

tremendously, and as he moved his lips up to her ankle, his

excitement increased. Irma pulled back the hem of her

dress to expose her calves, and this was a welcome sign to

him that she wanted more leg kissing.

He kissed the calf and shin of one leg, and then he

moved his lips to the other leg and he did the same. While

he did this, he held her ankles with his hands, his fingers

gently rubbing the fine bones.

Irma pulled her dress back even further, and now her

thighs were exposed above the tops of her stockings.

Another tug at the dress, and then she opened her thighs

wide to reveal everything. She wore no panties, nothing at

all to cover her belly and sex. The stockings were held up

by garter bands, the tops of the stockings rolled over them

to keep them in place, and above that the milk-white skin

continued upward until the joining of her thighs appeared.

She had a large hairy sex, and the way her thighs were

splayed open now exposed everything.

George shuddered as he looked at it. He felt a

definite tension in his penis as he stared at the dark

hair, the hairy lips and the arrangement of pink and red

between them. Irma had an unusually prominent clitoris,

and as he looked at it now it appeared to twitch several

times.

She slid her pelvis forward a few inches, and once

again there was no need for her to tell him what to do

because they both knew the routine. He leaned forward to

press his face against the hair and the warm sex. At first

he did nothing but sniff at it, his senses overwhelmed by

the heady smells, the mixture of cologne and sweat and

feminine flesh and a hint of urine on the hairs. He had

his nose pressed against the top part of her clitoris and

that's where he kept it. Irma closed her thighs against

his ears, not enough to make it difficult for him to

breathe, but just enough to keep his head securely in

place.

He felt the upper part of her body moving, and in a

moment he heard the radio come on suddenly. She'd reached

over to the table at the end of the sofa and she'd switched

it on while she kept his head imprisoned.

He heard a voice out of the radio. Who was it? Then

he recognized it. It was Walter Damrosch babbling

something about Wagner. George kept his face pressed

against Irma's sex and he ignored the radio. Was she

actually listening to Damrosch? He knew so little about

her. She worked as a saleswoman in one of the Seventh

Avenue department stores, but he wasn't sure whether she

sold ladies underwear or ladies dresses. Anyway, what

difference did it make? All he cared about at the moment

was the feel of all the hair on his mouth and cheeks. He

started licking her pussy now. He kept his nose pressed

against her big clitoris as he worked his tongue around the

soft flesh between her labia.

As he sucked Irma's juices, he thought about Claire

and his marriage. He wondered what Claire would think if

she saw him now. Would she roll her eyes? Would she

faint? Or would she simply nod her head and declare that

he'd gone mad? What a ridiculous thing it was to be more

familiar with Irma's cunt than with the cunt of his own

wife. In all the years of their marriage, he'd never done

to Claire what he was now doing to Irma. He was certain

Claire would refuse if he ever tried to do it, and if she

did allow it just once she'd hold it against him forever.

He imagined the way she'd sneer at him with her eyes.

Claire had a way of doing that: she knew how to change the

appearance of her eyes so they sneered at you.

He kept his tongue moving. Irma had once told him he

was no good to her down there if he did nothing but sniff

it and kiss it. She told him she wanted to feel his tongue

everywhere, especially on her clitoris and inside the hole.

So he did that now. He licked the knob of her clitoris,

and then he moved his tongue lower down to lick the opening

of her vagina.

Then Irma spoke to him:

"I'm expecting a friend to arrive any minute."

George froze, his body motionless, his mouth still

pressed against Irma's wet sex lips. She kept her thighs

closed around his head and there was no way he could move

even if he wanted to.

"Her name is Helen," Irma said. "I'm sure you'll like

her, George. In any case, it's what I want, isn't it? Go

on then, don't stop what you were doing, George."

He started licking her clit again. This time she used

both hands to hold his head, and as his tongue moved up and

down in her furrow she pushed his head around in circles.

He had done it this way often enough to know that when she

had both hands on his head it meant she'd reach a climax

soon. He licked harder, his nose rubbing her clitoris

while his tongue tickled her tunnel, and before long she

raised her knees up and groaned as she reached a crisis.

She kept him there, kept his face pressed against her

wet sex as the spasms made her body shake. He continued

licking her cleft with his tongue until finally she placed

a foot on one of his shoulders and she pushed him away.

"That's enough, George." He fell away on the carpet on

his back, his erect cock sticking out of the fly of his

shorts. Irma kept her thighs wide open, and as he looked

at her he could see the drenched slit of her pussy not

quite hidden by the hairy gaping lips.

Irma smiled as she looked down at his stiff penis.

"Look at that. You're excited, aren't you? Come closer to

me, George. I can't do anything to you if you're lying

there so far away from me."

He shifted his body on the carpet, sliding closer to

her until she could get her feet on him, her pretty shoes

with the high heels and thin ankle straps. He thought his

wife had shoes like these, but he wasn't sure. In any

case, these were Irma's shoes and not Claire's, and it was

Irma who had her shoes on his body.

The first thing she did was push the toe of one shoe

at his mouth. He'd expected it, indeed he was waiting for

it, and as soon as the toe of the shoe touched his lips he

opened his mouth to accept it. Irma muttered something as

she pushed more of the shoe inside his mouth, and when he

turned his eyes to look at her belly he saw that she had

her hand between her thighs.

He sucked the toe of her shoe awhile, and then she

pulled the shoe out of his mouth and she placed her foot

directly on his erect cock. She flattened the organ

against his belly, rolling it from side to side with the

sole of her shoe while she smiled down at him.

"Are you hot, George?"

"Yes."

"You'll be nice to Helen, won't you?"

"Yes."

"She's a dear friend and I've told her all about you.

Don't worry, she'll keep our secret, George. But you're

going to do what you're told, aren't you?"

And at that moment the doorbell rang and George

realized that Irma's friend had arrived.

"Just stay where you are," Irma said, pulling away

from George and then rising from the sofa.

He lay there trembling, more uncertain of things than

ever before, and also more thrilled. The idea of a

complete stranger being privy to his secret life with Irma

was an exquisite shock. You want it, he thought. Irma

certainly knew a great deal about him. Or maybe she didn't

and she just didn't care one way or the other. He was

merely a toy that she used to amuse herself, and now she

wanted her friend to share in her amusement.

He obeyed Irma and he remained stretched out on the

carpet. When Irma and her friend approached him, he looked

up and he saw an attractive woman who appeared to be Irma's

age. She smiled down at him. "Hello, George. I've heard

a lot about you."

Then her amused eyes shifted to his groin, and George

blushed when he suddenly realized his penis was still

protruding from the opening in his shorts.

"That's a cute dingus," Helen said with a laugh.

The two women moved away from him, and George lay

there and listened as Irma poured some Scotch out of the

bottle for Helen. They talked quietly, the words

indistinct, but he was certain they were talking about him.

Once again a quiver of excitement went through him as he

realized he was now in the power of two women instead of

just one. And he did like Helen. She was definitely as

attractive as Irma, and he couldn't help wondering what she

looked like without clothes.

But he was also uneasy. Irma was more or less

predictable because he'd spent a dozen or so evenings with

her and he had an idea what to expect. Helen was something

new. And there was also the possibility the presence of

Helen might make Irma act differently toward him. He

decided it was too confusing and the best thing was not to

think about it. Whatever Irma wanted, he knew he would do

it anyway. He looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall

opposite him and he was thankful it was still early enough

for them to do things. As usual, he'd already telephoned

home while he was at the office and he'd told the maid it

would be a late evening for him.

Irma led Helen back to the sofa, and they sat down

near George while they continued sipping their drinks.

When he looked at them and saw the Scotch in the glasses,

he guessed it must be their second drink. Irma's third.

Or maybe it was also Irma's second. Irma's second and

Helen's second. You're nervous, he thought. You're too

damn nervous.

Now Irma smiled down at George. "Comfy again, honey?"

"Yes," George said.

"Do Helen," Irma said. "She wants to see if you're

any good at licking a pussy."

He shifted his body around until he crouched in front

of Helen. She seemed to be laughing at him as he took one

of her feet in his hands and ran his fingers over her shoe

and ankle. Her shoes weren't as pretty as Irma's, but she

had dainty feet and beautiful legs. He heard her laugh

softly as he bent his head forward to kiss her instep.

"Oh, I like this," Helen said.

Irma chuckled. "I thought you would."

"I think I'm drunk."

"It's good Scotch, isn't it?"

George kissed Helen's legs, first her shoes and ankles

and then her calves and knees. Irma leaned toward Helen

and whispered something in Helen's ear and Helen giggled.

Then Helen pulled her dress back far enough to get her

hands on her panties, and she lifted her buttocks and

pushed them down to her knees.

"Don't sit there gawking," Irma said to George. "Help

her get her panties off."

George obeyed her, his hands trembling as he pulled

Helen's panties off her legs. She still had her dress

pulled up to her waist, and now she giggled again as she

opened her thighs to expose her cunt.

George felt his heart pounding as he stared at it.

She wasn't as hairy as Irma and the hair was a lighter

color. He thought her cunt looked prettier than Irma's,

but maybe that was because Helen had such lovely plump

thighs. George had never been impressed with the current

craze for skinny women. He liked Helen's type the best,

pretty legs and solid thighs and a large bust. It was easy

to see she had more bust than Irma, and he hoped he'd have

a look at her breasts before long.

Irma slipped an arm around Helen's shoulders. "Slide

forward, dearie. Put your legs on George's shoulders and

he'll have a go at you."

Helen chuckled as she slid her pelvis forward on the

sofa cushion. Her stockings were held up by garters

attached to a girdle, and now the garters stretched as she

raised her legs to get them over George's shoulders.

"How's that?" Helen said.

Irma stroked Helen's shoulder with her fingers. "Go

on, George."

George was already overcome by the perfume and

feminine scent wafting up to his nose from Helen's crotch,

and now he closed his eyes and he leaned forward to get his

mouth directly on her cunt. Helen made a whimpering

sound of pleasure.

George pushed his face against the silky softness, and

in a moment he was delighted to feel how wet it was. Irma

usually took awhile before her fountain started flowing,

but Helen was already soaked enough so that some of her

juices immediately dripped on his chin.

"You like the way George eats pussy?"

"You can bet I like it," Helen said with a laugh.

"I told you," Irma said.

"Oh yes."

George kept his mouth pressed against Helen's sex as

the two women continued talking and drinking. Now that the

ice was broken, he felt completely comfortable with Helen.

He wanted to please her the way he always pleased Irma.

She was Irma's good friend, wasn't she? After a while he

lifted his eyes to see what they were doing and he was

shocked to see the two of them kissing. It wasn't just a

kiss of two friends, it was a kiss of two lovers. George

had never seen anything like it except on a French postcard

and he couldn't take his eyes away from them. His

excitement became more intense as he watched Irma's hand

move over the front of Helen's dress to fondle Helen's big

breasts. Was this the first time for them? George

continued sucking Helen's wet pussy as he watched Irma and

Helen kiss and fondle each other. He had a fierce

erection, his penis sticking out of the front of his shorts

and twitching out of control.

Then suddenly Helen moaned against Irma's lips and she

started spending on George's mouth. She closed her thighs

around his head the same way as Irma always did it, but

then she opened them even wider than before and her hips

began bouncing up and down on the sofa cushion.

George held on, his mouth clamped to Helen's wet

throbbing pussy, his lips sucking at the plentiful syrup

that seemed to gush out of her cleft.

When Helen was finished spending, Irma pulled away

from her and she looked down at George with a flushed face.

"Stand up and strip," Irma said. "Come on, George, hurry

up."

His face wet with Helen's secretions, George stood up

on the carpet, unbuttoned his shorts and dropped them down

to his feet to step out of them. Helen giggled and

immediately leaned forward to take hold of his genitals

with both hands. She gripped his penis in one hand and his

testicles in the other hand and she slipped her mouth over

the entire length of his prick. She turned her head to

smile at Irma. "What should I do?"

"Nothing now," Irma said. "Let's get our clothes off

first." So Helen released George's genitals, and he had

to step back to make room for the two women as they rose up

to undress. Of course all his attention was devoted to

Helen because he'd already seen Irma naked so many times.

When they had their clothes off, Helen revealed a ripe body

with pendulous breasts and heavy buttocks. Irma's breasts

were much smaller than Helen's, but the lush growth of hair

at the joining of Irma's thighs was an adequate

compensation.

Irma said she wanted George to suck her. She sat down

on the sofa in the usual position, and she ordered George

to get to work immediately. He hurried to obey her. She

was obviously drunk, and when Irma was drunk she could

sometimes be mean. She'd never been too mean with him in

the past, but he was always afraid it might start sometime.

After George sucked Irma awhile, he was told to move

over to do the same to Helen. Her pubic hair and the

insides of her thighs were still sopping wet from the first

time, and George's excitement was intense as he buried his

face in her hot wet pussy. This time she was completely

naked, and each time he lifted his eyes upward he had a

delicious view of her large breasts and long nipples.

Irma couldn't keep her hands off Helen and was sucking

her nipples and eventually stood up on the cushions of the

sofa facing Helen and lowered her cunt onto her friends

sucking mouth. George was thrilled as he looked up

between her thighs and saw Irma's cunt lips gaping open as

Helen's tongue sloshed up and down the length of her wet

dripping gash.

Helen spent again under George's mouth, her body

shaking as much as it had the first time. When she finally

pushed his face away from her sex, she laughed and rolled

her eyes at him. "You're good, sweetie."

"You're good too Darling, I love it when you eat my

pussy" Irma said to Helen

Irma kicked George with her foot. "Get the toy and

the oil, George."

George trembled. He'd been afraid all along she'd get

to that. He felt extremely uneasy about doing that sort of

thing with Helen present because he hardly knew her. But

he could tell by the tone of Irma's voice that she wouldn't

allow him to refuse, so he rose up from the carpet and he

hurried to the kitchen.

When he returned to the living room, he had a large

rubber vibrating cock and a bottle of olive oil in his

hands. While he'd been gone, Irma had been kissing Helen

and feeling her breasts, and now she pulled away from Helen

and she took the vibrator and olive oil from George. "Now

George gets what he needs," Irma said with a laugh.

Helen smiled as she looked at George. "You don't mind

me watching, do you, George?"

He shook his head. He was terribly nervous. Now it

wasn't Helen presence so much as it was Irma's attitude.

Tonight Irma seemed drunk enough to hurt him, and that was

the one thing he always feared.

Irma moved her hand up the long thick vibrator, and

she held it between her legs as she poured some olive oil

out of the bottle on one of her palms. She then proceeded

to smear the oil over the rounded end of the rubber cock.

"Down on the carpet, George." He dropped to his knees

and elbows, his buttocks facing the two women and his body

now visibly trembling. He closed his eyes and he waited,

and soon he felt Irma pushing the oiled end of the rubber

cock against his anus.

"I always try to be careful," Irma said with a hiccup.

Then she laughed. "We don't want to hurt poor George, do

we?"

He kept his eyes closed as Irma slowly pushed the

vibrating toy inside his rectum.

Irma spoke: "Go on, Helen. Why don't you do it if you

want." So now it was Helen who had her hands on the

toy cock. George heard her giggle as she began sliding the

entire length of that dildo in and out of his body.

"God, I love this," Helen said.

Irma laughed. "Careful, dearie."

George's cock was stiffer than ever, swollen and

palpitating as it dangled from his belly. He reached back

with one hand to take hold of it, and he started

masturbating as Helen continued sliding the vibrator in and

out of his anus.

It didn't take long. It never took long when he had

the thing in there. A guttural sound came out of his

throat as he squirted his juices on the carpet under his

belly.

Helen squealed as she watched it. "He's ruining your

carpet, Irma."

"Don't worry, he'll clean it up."

Irma was right, of course. After the wet smeared cock

was pulled out of George's bowels, Irma made George get the

rag from the kitchen sink to wipe the carpet clean. George

was exhausted as he did it, and when the carpet looked

clean enough he stretched out on his back beside the wet

spot to rest a bit.

The women talked again as George lay there with his

eyes closed. He wanted to run away from them now. His

instinct was to flee the madness, get out of the room, out

of the building, hail a cab in the street and hurry to the

safety of his family and his Park Avenue apartment. But he

felt like this at the end of every visit to Irma and he

knew it would pass.

Later, when it was time for George to leave, the two

women watched him dress while they sat naked on the sofa

with their arms around each other. Then Irma rose and she

escorted George to the front door of the apartment.

"Back next week, George?"

"Yes," George said.

After she kissed his cheek, he walked out of the

apartment wondering if he ought to look for a taxi in

Madison Square or on Sixth Avenue. Sometimes it was easier

in Madison Square and sometimes on Sixth Avenue. He was

never certain which direction to go when he left Irma's

place, and so this evening he did the usual thing and he

flipped a coin.

The End