Of Devils & Deviants: An Anthology of Erotic Horror

by Graham Masterton

  She directed him down a few short streets, yellow lights above the front doors, then had him pull into a space in front of a small bakery, dance studio above. Her big blue eyes slid to his, apologetic. “They don’t allow cars up my hill.”

  He walked her up the hill, holding her small hand, turning around under the porch-light, letting go her fingers, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I had a great time. I really did.”

  Theresa looked down at his shoes. “I sure did.” She sneaked a glance up at him. Grinned.

  He put his hand under her chin, tilting up into the light, her face. Her blue eyes nervously held his, wide lips parting, opening, as his lips touched on hers, teeth touching, tongues touching, hers shy, his careful, at first.

  * * *

  Their third date, she let him in.

  Her apartment was full of sunlight, white squares on the peach walls, everything clean and neat except for an empty red bra, Mona’s, draped atop the back of the sofa.

  Theresa disappeared with it into a hallway, carrying it like a big, used bandage, coming back with a candle in a glass. She set it down on the coffee table, lit it, lay back against the flowered cushions, shyly resting her arms across the back of the sofa, blue eyes ready, body open to him.

  After five minutes of kissing, his palms moving over her dress, she holding the backs of his shoulders, he slipped his hand under her hem, onto the inside of her bare left thigh, a test. “No, only my right thigh.” He kissed her forehead, sliding his hand onto the inside of her right thigh. This time, she didn’t put her fingers on the back of his hand. Heart beating in his head, he moved his palm up the soft, round warmness, hand cupping her crotch, gently squeezing nylon. He looked down at her closed eyes, her lifting eyebrows, flushed cheeks, glancing across into Mona’s dark eyes, even though he knew it was wrong, feeling the left thigh close over the back of his hand.

  They walked with their arms around each other into the bedroom, art posters on the walls, a plain brown bureau, a window looking out on square roofs and blue sky. Wayne let go of Theresa’s waist, pulling his shirt over his head.

  Theresa and Mona both admired his bare chest, his big arms.

  “So how do we do this?”

  Theresa and Mona looked at each other. Theresa spoke. “Since we both have the same dress on, we both have to undress.” Her cheeks were the color of strawberries. “That’s the way we’ve always done it whenever Mona brought someone home.”

  Wayne nodded. He undid his belt, both of them watching until Theresa looked over crossly at Mona, who raised her dark eyes to the white ceiling.

  He stepped out of the ring of his clothes on the carpet, cock straight up.

  The two girls lifted their dress up over their bodies, both leaning forward, letting the dress fall onto the floor.

  Theresa had on a white bra. Mona was braless. He glanced at the heavy sway of her breasts, the big, dark nipples, then looked away guiltily. Theresa did a double-take, seeing Mona’s breasts. “You said you’d wear a bra!” Mona shrugged. “Yeah, well.” Their panties, still around their hips, were pink.

  They both lay on their backs on the bed, Theresa lifting her arms as Wayne lay down next to her, Mona reaching out to the night table to jiggle a Marlboro up from her pack.

  After their first horizontal kiss ever, Wayne propped himself on an elbow over Theresa, clearing his throat, going into the speech he knew he’d have to give. “This is something we need to discuss.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’d really like to touch both your legs while we’re…doing what we’re going to be doing.”

  “Both your legs meaning both my legs, not” – she switched a forefinger between her and Mona – “both our legs?”

  “Right. But of course if I touch your left leg, that’s also touching her right leg.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, how do you feel about that?”

  Theresa agonized about it a moment. “Well, if you only touch the inside of my left leg, that’s only the outside of her right leg. I guess I’d feel kind of funny if you touched the outside of my left leg, because then that’d also be, you know, the inside of her right leg.”

  “Yeah. Of course, during love-making, it’s kind of normal to put your hand on the outside of the girl’s thigh too, especially when you start getting close.”

  “I know. Sure. But the thing is…” Theresa shut her eyes. “You know I really can’t stand her, and it would bother me to know that just as you’re coming, you’ve got your hand up against the inside of her right thigh.”

  “But I wouldn’t see it that way. I’d see it as having my hand against the outside of your left thigh.”

  “Which is also the inside of her right thigh.”

  Mona blew smoke rings, a little smile on her red lips.

  “Well, but I wouldn’t see it that way.”

  Theresa chewed her lower lip, thinking, then looked up at him, innocent, blue-eyed, trusting. “Promise?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, so I can put my hand on the outside of your left thigh while I make love to you?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s okay.”

  “The curve that joins your left hip to her right hip, I figure I probably won’t touch that at all, or if I do, I’ll stay over on your side.”

  “That’s what I’d like.”

  He put his fingers around the elastic hem of their pink panties where it wrapped around Theresa’s right hip, tugging them down, exposing the soft blonde curls between her legs, the shiny pink fabric slanting down the two women’s bodies, exposing the springy black hair between Mona’s legs as well.

  Theresa, glancing over at Mona’s crotch, made a face.

  Wayne kept pulling the panties down the three legs, apologizing. “I mean, there’s no way to pull your panties off without pulling hers off too.”

  “I know. I know.” She looked again at the dark-haired crotch of the girl she hated. “Keep your legs together. Read a book or something.”

  Wayne pulled the pink panties off, the three leg-holes collapsing in softness.

  The two women lay naked on the bed, the shared middle leg drawing up, knee in the air, sole still flat on the sheet. He didn’t know who drew the leg up, Theresa or Mona.

  He lay his body down between her legs, kissing the tops of her breasts, sliding his cock up inside her. Theresa sucked in her breath, Mona’s head rolling back on her pillow. He already knew, from what Theresa had told him, that when one was fucked, the other felt an echo of that fuck.

  Theresa lowered her eyelids. She spoke quietly. “Feels good.”

  He kept his voice quiet too, both of them, by their low tones, trying to exclude Mona. “Yeah.”

  As his pumps went deeper, the girls’ middle leg lifted, crooking across the small of his back, hugging him. Who lifted the shared middle leg, Theresa, or Mona? He looked down at Theresa’s face, big eyes blissfully shut, small pink tongue showing between her teeth, oblivious to everything but her impending orgasm, but felt Mona’s eyes on him. He glanced to his right.

  She was staring straight at him, sly and dark-eyed, the top of her right middle finger tapping her plum-colored clitoris, then chugging its fingerprint against the rounded slickness, tapping again, her left leg, wholly her own, spreading farther apart, showing her own dark-haired wetness, in invitation.

  He pumped an even harder, longer cock up inside Theresa, Theresa’s lips spreading in a grateful smile.

  As the three of them got close, he moved his hand to the outside of Theresa’s left thigh, which just happened to be the inside of Mona’s right thigh, holding the tense quake of the soft, warm leg flesh against his palm as Theresa came, giving up a quiet mewl, as Mona’s cunt, plump now but still empty, jerked up, as she puffed out a womanly whisper, as he himself came.

  Afterwards, back in his frat house, in his bed, he remonstrated himself. He had to keep his eyes on Theresa only, had to think of his hand, when it was on her right le
g, as being on the outside of her right thigh, not the inside of Mona’s left thigh. He flipped over onto his back, yanking his underpants down, kicking them off his feet, spreading his strong legs, masturbating, remembering how good it felt to have his hand slipped up the outside of Theresa’s right thigh.

  * * *

  He started spending a lot of time outside classes at her place, most of it in bed. Mona took to not wearing any clothes, saying she was a free spirit, the door opening to his knock with Theresa in a tasteful, ankle-length dress, Mona nude beside her, red-lipped and scratching her crotch, Theresa having to walk Mona’s naked body around in the kitchen while she prepared a vegetarian meal.

  One time, both women naked, Theresa, who was getting more experimental, asked him if he wanted to fuck her from the rear, bending her body and Mona’s, four small hands planted on the mattress. He looked down at the three cheeks, two assholes in front of him, fingers twisting the head of his cock, getting it fat and hard, then slid his middle finger up the left cunt until he felt his knuckles resting against her springy hair, pumping the finger up and down, the wet warmness of her trembling and clenching.

  Theresa spilled her tongue out over her lower teeth, raising both their asses. “Put your finger inside me. Put your finger in me, Wayne.”

  He looked down at his disappearing, reappearing finger, suddenly realized that since they were facing away from him, left was right and right, left.

  He yanked his finger out of Mona’s cunt, jammed it guiltily up Theresa’s. Mona’s slickness is mixing with Theresa’s now, he thought. Mona looked over her bare shoulder at him, waiting.

  He pulled his finger out of Theresa, trying to ignore Mona, sliding his cock up inside Theresa, giving her the nice steady, dependable pump she seemed to like best. As she got close, he grabbed both her cheeks, one hers all alone, the other shared, Mona shutting her eyes, opening her mouth. He started pushing deep into Theresa, feeling Mona’s pubic hair tickling the tip of his index finger, realizing how easy it would be to raise his hand off the shared cheek and slide his right middle finger back up inside Mona. But holding on tight to Theresa and Mona’s shared cheek instead, he kept his right hand where it was, until he heard Theresa’s lips, unseen underneath all that blonde hair spilling across the pillow, blow out her orgasm, until the wetness from both their cunts dried on his middle finger.

  * * *

  The apartment door swung inwards, Theresa and Mona both standing there naked, Theresa now also coming to the door nude, to compete with Mona.

  Right away he knew there was something wrong, but didn’t know what. He leaned in to kiss Theresa. Mona pushed him back, letting out a hurt, “Hey!”

  He straightened away from them, looked at Theresa. “What?” She grinned maliciously at him, lowering her face, blowing him an exaggerated kiss.

  He studied both of them. “Oh. You switched. Theresa’s on the right now, Mona’s on the left. How’d you do that?”

  Mona interrupted him. “No we didn’t!” Theresa just snickered.

  He looked at them both, from face to face, finally realizing. “Oh. No, wait. Theresa’s still on the left, Mona’s still on the right. You both dyed your hair the color of the other.”

  Theresa, actually Mona, shook her long blonde hair. “Na-ah! We stopped dying our hair, and rinsed it back to its original color. I was the blonde. Theresa was the one with black hair.”

  He blinked rapidly, looking at Mona, who was actually Theresa. “You actually have black hair? And Mona’s the blonde?”

  Theresa, teary-eyed, ran her hands over her long, black hair. “She started it! She rinsed her hair back to its original color so we’d both be strawberry blondes, so you’d be more attracted to her since she’d look like me! I hate her! I hate her!”

  Mona shook her long, blonde hair away from her face. “I rinsed the black out of my pubic hair too, Wayne.” He looked down below her belly, seeing her blonde bush. Theresa’s bush was also blonde. “I didn’t rinse mine. I wasn’t thinking. Do you still love me? Even with our hair colors switched?”

  He put a hand on his forehead, trying to think. “Of course I do. I don’t—I mean, whatever your true hair color is, you know….” He was talking to Theresa, but she looked like Mona now, while Mona, watching from the side, looked like Theresa.

  They went to bed. He pumped his cock repeatedly up into Theresa’s familiar, blonde-haired cunt, which he now realized was a dye job, but since their faces were identical, kissing Theresa with her long black hair felt like kissing Mona, whereas the woman who looked like Theresa, with her long blonde hair and springy blonde cunt, lay unkissed and unfucked.

  As Theresa got close, shutting her eyes, opening her mouth, lolling her head back, glossy black hair sliding off the pillow, he glanced over at Mona, who pushed her long blonde hair away from her forehead, then snaked her right hand over on top of his, pulling it out from between Theresa’s thighs, where he had been masturbating her, dropping her own fingers on Theresa’s clitoris, tapping a fingerpad against Theresa’s swell, then expertly rubbing her. Theresa’s head fell even farther back, mouth opening in dumb appreciation.

  Should he warn Theresa the rival she hated so much was masturbating her? But he was visually confused, because it looked like the blonde Theresa was masturbating her own blonde cunt while he fucked the beautiful, dark-haired Mona. Plus Theresa seemed to be enjoying Mona’s finger so much, thinking it his, with its odd little dance of taps and circular rubs, so he let Mona continue to finger Theresa between her legs, getting harder and longer as Theresa succumbed more and more, deliciously, joyfully, to her enemy’s knowing touch, spreading farther and farther apart her leg and their shared middle leg.

  Mona, now blonde-haired, slid her sly eyes leftwards, watching Theresa’s big body flush and ripen under her steady fingers, spreading her own legs apart for Wayne.

  Mona’s cunt, untouched, lay swollen between her opened thighs, waiting for a finger.

  Wayne’s.

  Her cunt looked so much like Theresa’s, although he realized now in fact it had been Theresa’s cunt which had looked so much like Mona’s, because of the dye job.

  He reached over, looked in Mona’s eyes, slipped his fingers between her soft thighs onto her cunt. He started masturbating her, careful not to let his vibrating hand buzz against the shared thigh.

  Yes.

  Theresa, Mona, Wayne all came with their best orgasms yet.

  Afterwards, Mona smoked, Theresa hugged Wayne, kissing up at his big chest, telling him that was the best time ever, Wayne sick to his stomach but unable to pull his eyes away from Mona’s smug, smoky exhalations.

  * * *

  It went on like that for weeks, Wayne sliding his cock into Theresa, but then putting his hands on Mona throughout intercourse, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, running his palms along the beautiful, bare outside curves of her body, masturbating her, while Mona’s hands substituted for his on Theresa’s body, squeezing Theresa’s breasts, pulling on her nipples, tapping and caressing her cunt until Theresa would come, hips, one hers, one shared, bucking up with intense pleasure.

  Finally, after one particularly long lovemaking, Mona announced, “I have to start getting fucked too.”

  Theresa shook her head violently side to side on her pillow, long black hair swinging. “Nuh-uh! Wayne’s mine. Right, Wayne?”

  “Yeah. Unless, I mean, if you wanted to get into a threesome…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to! I was just saying, if you wanted to, I’d do it.”

  “I don’t want to, that’s sick, that’s…I hate her. I can’t stand her.”

  “Exactly! I mean…you know. That’s out of the question.”

  Mona puffed out between her red lips the biggest sigh in the world, lying alone on her back beside them, ripe and bare and beautiful and unfucked. She looked over at Wayne lying on top of Theresa, then up at the bored gaze directly above her. “Are you sure Dwayne’s gay?”

  Dwa
yne shut his eyes, wearily opened them again. “Girlfriend, don’t go there.”

  Mona scratched her scalp through her blonde hair, thinking. “But you like getting your cock sucked, right?”

  “Well…”

  “So, why don’t we do one hundred and thirty-eight?”

  They all talked about it, lying in bed, seeing all that big, bare flesh everywhere on the sheets waiting for red tongues, but mostly Mona and Wayne. About four o’clock in the morning, everyone finally in agreement, lone cars sounding outside the open window again, accelerating mid-block, Wayne and Dwayne worked their elbows and knees around on the mattress until they were lying upside down to Theresa and Mona, male faces at cunts, female faces at cocks, but because one set was upside-down to the other set, it was Dwayne’s cock hanging in front of Theresa’s mouth, Wayne’s mouth in front of Mona’s small, wet cunt.

  “Oh!” said two times (Wayne, Theresa).

  But by then everyone was so sleepy-eyed and ready for it, faces started disappearing between legs, tongues coming out.

  Wayne finally got to lick Mona’s cunt, after she had patiently flashed it at him all summer, although now, with its curly blonde hair, it looked like Theresa’s cunt, the tip of his tongue licking her clitoris, traveling into the furrows, burrowing into her small, warm hole, and although in order to finally get his face between Mona’s thighs meant that Theresa’s face was now between Dwayne’s thighs, sucking his cock, pulling her lips backwards off his long erection, then pushing her lips back down again over his cock.

  Halfway through, Wayne pulled his head out from between Mona’s thighs, as Theresa did out from between Dwayne’s thighs. “Let’s fuck,” Wayne said.

  Theresa nodded, licking her lips. “Yeah!”

  “Yeah!” Mona said, “But from behind.”

  From behind, the bodies were backwards again, so it was Wayne sinking his cock into Mona’s cunt, Dwayne sinking his into Theresa’s.