Dodie was an attractive woman, although not in the most obvious ways. Compared to her she was very thin. Almost a stick of a woman. She was thin compared even to the full contours of Innocence’s slender body, with breasts which, when they were revealed, were barely more than mounds on her chest with prominent nipples that pressed hard and firm against the tee-shirts she most often wore, even when all else was removed. She hardly ever hid her hirsute vagina, which had probably never been trimmed and easily accounted for more luxuriance than the hair on her head. Her bony face had a harshness about it in repose which so easily softened into near soppiness whenever she commenced her lovemaking with Innocence.
It was inevitable that Blanche should get to know Dodie better, though at the time it didn’t seem inevitable at all. Innocence was out and Dodie had returned after a day working in a record shop which was one of the several occasional jobs she did more to enliven her life than for the meagre pay it afforded her. It was almost like pocket money for her: Innocence was bringing in more than was adequate from the sale of her videos. Blanche had been negotiating with suppliers in Congress who had access to imported literature in translation that interposed experimentation in language and structure with sexual habits which were at best unpleasant and at worst lethal. She wasn’t too sure she enjoyed the admixture of torture and rape with lingering unfinished sentences, time reversal and flowery exuberance, but she knew that there was a ready market for this kind of literature, so she was eager to get some onto her bookshelves. Her own feelings as she read the beautifully poetic accounts of multiple rape with broomhandles, slow removal of fingernails, the inexorable peeling off of vaginal layers and the gradual insertion of chair-legs up anuses were not ones of pleasure. In fact, she put the books to one side, yearning for the simple certainties of Honore L’Oeuf’s pederastic fantasies. She even longed for those tedious novels where clothes were divested chapter after chapter and the sex scenes repetitive and predictable.
Dodie watched Blanche sitting on the sofa reading one of the books she’d bought, the translated title being Barbed Wire Brassiere, Blanche squirming at the descriptions of blood dripping down breasts that were torn to pieces by the unpleasant underwear of the title. It was at least preferable to Razor Blade Knickers by the same author. Dodie sat next to Blanche, who was grateful for the diversion, wearing a short tee-shirt with the picture of a rhinoceros fucking a hippopotamus. As usual, she wore nothing else except a pair of laced boots that came halfway up her lower leg. Without bothering to say anything, she leaned her head on Blanche’s shoulder and trailed a hand over Blanche’s thigh.
“Good book?” She asked.
“A bit gruesome,” admitted Blanche. “I don’t know what people see in this kind of stuff.”
“But you still read it,” Dodie observed, smiling, putting a hand on Blanche’s chin and turning her head round to face her. She stared into Blanche’s face, with a strange simpering smile. “You know, for such a large woman you’re very attractive. How do you keep your skin so white, living in Brook?”
“I just don’t go out in the sun very often.”
“Is that so?” Asked Dodie, before pressing her lips onto Blanche’s, burying her tongue into her unresisting mouth. Blanche responded in form, heaving around her bulk and pulling Dodie’s slender bony body against the folds and cushions of her flesh. Dodie swivelled about and climbed onto Blanche’s body, a finger twiddling her nipple and another caressing the vagina obscured beneath the piled folds of flesh that was her stomach. Blanche heaved back, overwhelmed by a shudder of pleasure, allowing Dodie to slide down between her open legs and bury her stubbled head between the soft wobbling fat of her thighs.
By the time Innocence returned, Dodie and Blanche were rolling about on the floor, Blanche gasping and panting as Dodie workmanlike massaged and exercised her sensitive flesh. The two of them looked up expectantly as Innocence stood over them, already freed of her clothes, her long hair falling over her face, and her penis stirring at the sight of such mismatched bodies in such passionate embrace. Her breasts arched, her nipples coning out hard and firm, the smooth roundness of them so incongruous above the penis that was twitching into life. Dodie looked at Blanche and Blanche at Dodie, and the two of them at Innocence, both overwhelmed with desire for the girl.
Then Dodie parted her legs. “Take me, Innocence. Take me!”
“And me!” Pleaded Blanche doing the same thing, but less able to display the full glory of her cunt. “Take us both!”
“Both?” Innocence queried, excited at the idea, her penis now fully erect, like a shiny pink pillar of pleasure. It took little more persuasion and the three of them were rolling about on the floor, Innocence’s penis now in Dodie and now in Blanche, thrusting back and forth, now engulfed in folds of fat and now banging hip bone against hip bone. Blanche lay back as Innocence plied at her, Dodie’s tongue deep in her mouth, and she knew not whose fingers were caressing her breasts and clitoris.
This was what it was about, she mused, still disturbed even in her moments of passion by images of the suffering of the heroine of Barbed Wire Brassiere and her fears of what Penis Lacerators might be about. Not violence, humiliation and death. The meaning of sex was love and loving. Without them, sex was empty and meaningless. She smiled at Innocence as she thrust again and again into her cunt. There need never be a dark side to sex when love unified the act. She needed love first and sex was no more than the bonus which lubricated and reinforced that love, however temporary and however necessary it was for her to return home to Brook and her bookshop.
XXXIV
In Which Innocence is lost in the country; there is much self-discovery and the less savoury aspects of country life are revealed.
Innocence and Dodie didn’t share very many interests in common, but one they did and that Innocence was particularly keen on pursuing was a love for walking in the countryside which they often did together. It was lovely to get away from the city and out into the open air, feeling the country air on their skins and finding deserted spots where they could make love in the warmth of the sun beating down on their backs, collecting souvenirs of insect bites on their inner thighs and grass in Dodie’s vagina. It was on one such pleasant walk in the hills outside Congress they found themselves horribly lost and dark clouds building up in the sky heavy with the promise of rain.
“What do we do now?” wondered Dodie, looking up at the sky, pulling her shorts on as Innocence stood up in the meadow, still naked and her penis still shimmering from their lovemaking. “It’s miles back!”
“We’ll just have to hurry!” Innocence said, not feeling at all hopeful as she gazed up at the dark black and grey shadows. “We might have to shelter under a tree or something.”
Dodie nodded. “We’d better get moving then!”
They strode on, as fast as they could without breaking into a run as the clouds came closer, accompanied by the occasional distant rumble. “We’re not going to make it!” asserted Dodie, squeezing Innocence’s hand tight as the first drops of rain squeezed out of the sky and sputtered on the dry earth of the waymarked path. “We’ll get soaked!”
Unfortunately, Dodie’s assertion proved to be altogether too true as the drops became heavier, more frequent and more persistent. The countryside’s smell changed as the water cascaded on them, battering against their too flimsy clothes and pasting them against the hard contours of their bodies. Even their feet, sensibly enclosed within sturdy walking boots began to feel damp as water dribbled down their ankles and through the eyelets of their boots.
“Are you alright, you two?” asked a woman in her early forties who was walking along the same path as them carrying a large umbrella over her head and wearing a pair of green wellington boots. She wore a flowery dress down to her knees and her brown wavy hair reached halfway down her back. “You look as wet as you can. You don’t want to catch cold. Do you want to stop off at our cottage to dry? It’s a long way to wherever you intend to go.”
Innocenc
e brushed the sodden strands of hair from her eyes and studied the woman who was thin with a scattering of dark brown freckles around her face. It was very comforting to meet someone so sympathetic. She glanced at Dodie, whose hand she held, who was suffering worse from the rain, the tee-shirt stuck against the cold-hardened nipples of her tiny breasts and every contour of her body clearly visible, including those normally obscured by her brief shorts, the pubic hairs emerging from either side and themselves dripping a stream of rain water.
“If it’s no trouble …” she replied with a broad grin. “We really should have looked at the weather forecast before we set out.”
“We don’t live far from here,” the woman said, leading the two lovers along a series of paths off the beaten track, past fields of sodden sheep and sheltering cows, to a small cottage in a small-holding of cabbages and hens. Outside the cottage were the carcasses of disembowelled cars and a few miserable looking dogs. It was not a pretty cottage, set in red brick and splattered by mud from the rain, but to Innocence’s rain-stung eyes it was the most welcoming sight imaginable. She gasped with relief as she and Dodie sheltered under the derelict porch amongst milk bottles and car engines while the woman pushed open the unvarnished door.
Inside Innocence could hear a slight moaning from the kitchen. The woman noticed Innocence’s frown. “That’ll be my two eldest. They’re having fun together no doubt. Well, you expect that from youngsters don’t you?”
“I suppose so,” agreed Innocence naïvely, not really expecting to see a boy of about seventeen sitting on a wooden chair by the table in a shirt with his legs open, his trousers and underpants about his ankle and with his penis being sucked by a girl of about fourteen wearing nothing at all, her hands creeping up the insides of his thighs and up his chest while he emitted frequent gasps of pleasure. The boy turned his head round as his mother entered and smiled welcomingly.
“Hello, Mum!” he said between gasps. “Wet, is it?”
“Very!” she smiled approvingly. “Hello, Kitty! Enjoying yourself?”
The girl pulled her mouth off the boy’s penis, the length of it gradually easing through her full red lips, and gazed up at her mother, Dodie and Innocence. “Yes, Mummy! Ooh! Who’re these two?” A sliver of viscous creamy liquid dribbled out of her mouth, down her chin and fell in a small globule to the stone kitchen floor.
“Couple of lasses caught in the rain. They’ll be staying overnight while they dry their clothes. Don’t worry about us. Just carry on.”
“What will they think?” she asked pointing at Innocence and Dodie, her hair tied back in two ponytails and her brow furrowing with concern.
“Nothing I imagine. If a girl can’t enjoy herself with her brother, then who can she enjoy herself with?”
Kitty nodded and returned to her brother’s penis which she continued fellating. Innocence felt a little uneasy, but the woman pulled two ragged towels out of a cupboard and handed them to the girls. She lowered her voice. “Don’t worry about Kitty and Rover. They’re incorrigible. Good, isn’t it? Shows we’re a close family, doesn’t it? Is it like this in your family?”
Innocence nodded sadly, although she knew her mother would never show any of the approval that Mrs Giles was expressing. She wondered if the trouble she and Chastity had taken in hiding their activity from their parents had been worth so much trouble after all.
Dodie had different views. “My family never shared their bodies with each other. I don’t think I’d have liked it if they did.”
“Well, don’t fret dearie. Not all families can be as close as ours.” She lowered her voice. “Now, I don’t like to have to tell guests this, and I guess it’s not really necessary, we may be a close family, but we don’t go in for any sexual promiscuity. So don’t you get any ideas about Kitty, Rover, or for that matter my husband and young Fanny. We keep ourselves to ourselves. It’s better that way. Don’t think you can join in, though what you two pretty young things do together is your business.” She raised her voice again. “Now take off your soaking things, and I’ll prepare a lovely broth for us all to eat. What do you think, Kitty?”
Her daughter was leaning on top of her brother, her hands on his shoulders and his penis thrusting in and out of her bushy young cunt. “Oohh! Oohh! Oohh!!” she gasped.
“I guess she thinks it’d be a good idea,” smiled her mother. “She’s such a darling young thing. I can barely get enough of her myself. And the old man it’s all he can do to share us. He’s always poking around inside her. And talk of the devil! Here’s my husband with young Fanny!”
A man about the woman’s age entered the room in a loose overall with a young girl of about eleven who was wearing nothing but a pair of wellington boots and a large hat. Rain water was dripping down her naked skin and tangling in a small patch of pubic hair. “Hello there, love! I see the younguns are at it again!”
“Just like us, eh Daddy!” commented Fanny.
“Shush!” laughed her father. “Mummy might get jealous.” He noticed Innocence and Dodie for the first time. “Why, love, you didn’t tell us we had some guests. Did they get caught out in the rain?”
The mother nodded. “I said they could stay the night to dry off, if that’s alright dear?”
He glanced at Dodie whose short hair had been towelled dry and Innocence who was turned away from him as she patted her crotch sufficiently dry to be able to hide her penis from sight under the towel. She had no wish to shock her hosts with her unusual attributes.
The husband smiled. “Well, as long as they respect the rules of the house and don’t get up to any funny business, I don’t mind how long these pretty lasses stay. What do you think, Fanny?”
The child giggled. “That girl’s got no tits, Daddy,” she said referring to Dodie. “She’s just like a boy. Boys don’t have tits, neither.”
“Don’t be rude!” exclaimed her mother, slapping her daughter on the bare backside. “Not all girls are like Kitty.”
Innocence blanched, probably more than Dodie who was almost proud of the smallness of her breasts. What would this close (possibly too close) family make of her if they knew what it was she had hidden underneath the towel she wrapped so firmly around her damp groin? If Dodie was like a boy in her breastlessness, what would they make of her semi-erect penis, pressing uncomfortably against the towel’s fabric?
“Dinner won’t be long!” announced the mother. “Rover, I hope you and Kitty aren’t going to be at it for too long. I want you two to help me lay the table for dinner.”
It was a long evening and Innocence was pleased when it was over and she and Dodie could retreat to the bedroom they’d been allocated. Dodie seemed a little reserved, but Innocence made no comment. She’d got used to her occasional moods, and was not at all surprised when she showed no inclination to make love with her. The Giles family had shown no sign of embarrassment in their lovemaking, although Innocence found it slightly disturbing. Especially when Rover made love with Fanny after the dinner, their parents apparently unconcerned, only showing disapproval when his penis wandered near her vagina.
“I really don’t think Fanny’s ready for that yet, dear,” his mother reproved.
“And anyway that’s my prerogative!” asserted his father.
Dodie was strangely quiet most of the evening, contemplating Kitty who ate dinner dressed only in a pair of old jeans and was most animated when in conversation with the young girl about the night clubs of Congress which Kitty found fascinating. Innocence chatted mostly with the parents, keeping the subject on such uncontroversial subjects as country life and farming. She was relieved at the end of the evening to lie down on the ragged blanket covering the bed, Dodie slumped on her side, naked as she’d been all evening, facing the wall and apparently asleep. Innocence smiled at her lover, and pulled off the towel she’d so assiduously grasped to her torso all night, frightened that it should slip off. Her penis, which she’d restrained from an erection as much as possible while Fanny sucked her brother’s pen
is, sprang free and with a few tender strokes gradually attained its full growth.
She’d found the incestuous coupling somewhat arousing, probably because, although in substance it so closely resembled that between herself and her sister, in spirit it was so different. Her penis was warm to her touch and became bigger and firmer and harder. She glanced at Dodie or at least her back, with the blanket drawn close to her skin, and the length of her beautiful neck and the shaven smoothness of it as she faced away. However excited she felt, she didn’t think it was appropriate to disturb her lover.
She sighed and pulled at her penis, thinking all the while of the sight of Kitty on top of Rover’s penis at the tableside, thrusting and thrusting and thrusting in and out, in and out of her. She panted as her penis twitched and stirred in her caresses, both hands taking turns to pull at it, the red and scarlet glans shimmering in the moonlight shining through the cottage windows. She wasn’t the only one enjoying a penis at the moment as she could tell from the thumping and gasping coming from the children’s bedroom next door. She fancied she could hear Rover panting as he pushed his penis again and again inside his sister’s cunt. More distantly, down the small corridor, she heard the sound of other panting which probably came from the parents’ bedroom, but whether this lovemaking included Fanny in whose bedroom they were sleeping she was not at all sure.
At last, her penis spurted forth a globule of semen followed by a rush of more, which dripped down the length of it, tangled in her pubic hair and rested on her thighs. She gave an involuntary last gasp, smiled again at the gently snoozing Dodie, and eased herself under the blanket, turning her back discreetly so as not to disturb her lover.
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