The young man got on all fours between my legs. I could feel his hot breath on my skin. His tie slipped out of his jacket and caressed my thighs. I panted breathlessly, “Touch me! Touch me!” and pulled my legs even further apart with my hands. A kind of suspended hush fell over the other men as they waited to see what would happen. I could hear the old man repeating his mantra in a whisper, “She too young. No touch. No touch.” The young man bent ever so slowly forward and took the wet glistening morsel of temaki between his teeth and slowly sucked it out of my cunt. My hand immediately shot out and found another piece of sushi. In fact, the men were providing them now and there was no end to the raw fish that appeared at my fingertips.
Then another man jumped onto the conveyor belt. He too got on all fours and sucked a piece of sushi up, along and off the tip of my clitoris. “Touch me,” I kept whimpering in unison with the old man’s “No touch, no touch.” The businessmen were hopping on and off the conveyor belt, tousling and wrestling each other to the floor. And amidst all of this commotion I lay there unviolable, untouched except for the sucking and popping out of bits of fish, until finally the men fell into a rhythm, lining up like schoolboys to feed off me. Kneeling before me as if before the Buddha to bend, kiss, bite and suck until I began to convulse with pleasure. So hot was my orgasm that when it had passed I lay shivering with exhaustion, while the men lay sprawled around the room, glutted and satiated by our mutual feast.
And then, as swiftly as I was swept up in their Epicurian ritual, I was lifted down, presented with my clothes and ushered back through the curtain of blue glass beads into a bright San Francisco alley.
Below the Beltway
Simon Sheppard
“Senator, Mr Sherwood of the Family First Foundation to see you.”
“Thank you, Larry. That’ll be all. Please close the door as you go.”
“Thanks for meeting with me, Senator.”
“No problem, no problem at all, Mr Sherwood. As you well know, the cause you represent is near and dear to my heart.”
“Please, Senator, call me Rick.”
“Well, then, Rick, I want to thank you folks for the generous support you’ve given my campaign. And I want to assure you that anything I can do for the cause, I will do. I surely will.”
“Senator, in trying times like these, it’s inspiring to know that men like yourself are not afraid to stand up and be counted.”
“Rick, the values that you and I hold dear are the values that have made America great. You know, some of the people on the other side, heck, all of the people on the other side think of me as a hick, a born-again fuddy-duddy. Make no mistake – we are under attack. Our entire Christian way of life is in peril. That’s why it’s so encouraging to see men like you, young, vital, vigorous men, joining the cause. Are you married, Rick?”
“Pardon?”
“Married, Rick.”
“Engaged, sir.”
“Well, she’s a lucky girl. Yes, indeed. You know, my boy, there’s nothing like marriage, nothing in the world. My wife and I, though . . .”
“What, sir?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing. And please stop calling me ‘sir’. I feel like I should be calling you ‘sir’.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“Well, now, a big, strapping, handsome fella like you . . . Look at the shoulders on you. You go to the gym, Rick?”
“A few times a week, sir, I mean, Senator.”
“Excuse me while I take this call . . . Who’s calling, Larry? Well, tell him not to get his Oval Office panties in a twist . . . No, no, just tell him I’ll get back to him as soon as I can. And hold all my calls . . . I’m sorry, Rick. Where were we?”
“Talking about the gym.”
“Big, strapping man like you. Look at you. Look at those feet. What size shoes you wear, Rick?”
“Thirteen, Senator.”
“Thirteen, huh? I bet you’d like to have somebody at your feet, those great big feet of yours, wouldn’t you? You ever think about it? That little gal of yours, for instance?”
“What?”
“At your feet, man. Kissing those feet. Looking up at you, worshipping you. Ever want that, Rick?”
“My feet, sir? No, can’t say that I . . .”
“Feet are a funny thing, y’know. Most people don’t think about them much. But there they are, working away for us. And if you treat ’em right, they can give you so much pleasure.”
“Senator, about the legislation I came here to discuss . . .”
“Take your shoes off, Rick.”
“Sorry, Senator?”
“I said take the shoes off those big feet of yours.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“Don’t you worry about your legislation. Who the hell’s gonna be on your side if not me? You want to get your way with Congress? Then take off your shoes.”
“Listen, Senator . . .”
“Take your damn shoes off. Please. Please take your shoes off. Please, sir.”
“You just want me to take off my shoes?”
“And put them on my desk. That’s right. Put that one right up here. And now the other one. Hmm, nice shoes, soft leather. Feel nice. Smell nice, too. Don’t smell too much, but I can tell you been in ’em.”
“Senator, I think that’s enough. If you don’t mind . . .”
“Rick, do you know how powerful I am? You are not talking to some perverted peckerwood here. You are talking to a senator of the United States of America. A damned important senator. Now stretch out your feet, let me see ’em . . . Damn, they are big. Nice socks, too. Some guys go for those thin black socks, you can see the toes through ’em. Not me, always seemed kinda fruity to me. Right? Kinda fruity . . . Now, why don’t you lean on back and relax? Just prop your feet on my desk. There now, doesn’t that feel good, getting your feet massaged like this? Your fiancée doesn’t do this for you?”
“No, she doesn’t. But y’know, it does feel kind of . . . kind of pleasant.”
“See, what did I tell you? Now then, those socks are nice and thick and masculine, but they do get in the way. Why don’t I just peel them off? There we go. Hey, your feet are kind of sweaty. Nervous?”
“I was, but this feels okay. And I . . . guess there’s no harm in it. As long as it doesn’t go any further.”
“No, my boy, no harm in it at all. Just my fingers kneading your big, manly foot, the arch, the instep. Going to work on your toes. Here, you comfortable like that? Why don’t you just put your feet back on down? . . . That’s it. Now I’ll just get right down here and . . .”
“Hey, not your mouth. Your fingers are okay, but your mouth . . . that’s faggotty stuff.”
“So what does that make me?
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“It makes me a faggot, doesn’t it? Say it. Say ‘You faggot’.”
“I can’t.”
“SAY IT, BOY.”
“You, er, faggot.”
“Louder.”
“Faggot.”
“Like you mean it. You want that bill to pass, doncha?”
“YOU FAGGOT! . . . That’s . . .”
“Go on, Rick, go on . . .”
“. . . that’s right, you . . . suck on my toes. You’re, er, gonna make me feel real good. Oh, yeah . . . real, real good. Oh, Christ! That’s it, you just open wide and get them all in there.”
“Mmmmf . . . Oh, Rick, sir, it tastes so fucking good, sir. Please, would you stand up so I can just kneel here at your feet and look up at you? Oh, God, thank you, sir. Here, sir, let me run my tongue between your beautiful toes . . . Sir?”
“What is it, er, footslave?”
“Sir, if I keep my face buried between your feet, may I run a hand up your powerful legs?”
“Yeah. Fuck, yeah, that’s it.”
“May I touch your big straight-man’s cock, sir?”
“Yeah, you can touch it through my trousers, but . . . That’s enough. Back off.”
/> “Oh, thank you, sir. It’s so big and hard.”
“Enough.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir. Rick, sir . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Would you step on my face? Please?”
“Uh . . . Listen, Senator, I’m not sure . . .”
“I TOLD YOU TO STEP ON MY FACE, RICK.”
“Like this?”
“Harder. Harder. Oh, yeah . . .”
“Stop playing with yourself, Senator.”
“What?”
“Hand away from your dick.”
“Sorry, sir. Y’know, Rick, I think you’re getting the hang of this.”
“Who cares what the fuck you think?”
“Oh, God, yes, yes . . .”
“Now then. Take your fucking clothes off. Now. And fold ’em up neatly . . . NEATLY, I said.”
“Now what, sir?”
“Back on the floor. On all fours. No, no, lie on your back. You want my foot? Well, you got it. There. There’s my big foot. On your face, down over your chest, your belly, that pathetic excuse for a hard-on.”
“Oh yes, yes, grind it in.”
“Did I tell you you could talk?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Now shut the fuck up. You only speak when spoken to, you sick fuck. Now, tell me about Larry.”
“Larry? What do you want to know about him? He’s my aide, college junior . . .”
“I mean, does he know what a fucking faggot you are? Does he know about your little games?”
“No, of course not.”
“Okay, call him in here.”
“What?”
“Are you fucking deaf? I said get up, get on the intercom, and tell him to get his ass in here. And do it NOW!”
“Larry, would you please come in here for a moment?”
“There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“What do you want, Sena . . . Dang, what’s going on here?”
“Your boss would like to worship your feet, Larry.”
“Really?”
“You tell him, Senator Slaveboy.”
“Please, Larry, please let me lick your feet.”
“Jeez, REAALLLY??”
“Just do it, would ya? Take off your shoes and socks and let him do your feet. Actually, it’ll feel pretty goddamn good. Hey pigboy, you gonna do as good a job on him as you did on me?”
“Yes, SIR.”
“You’d fucking better. Okay, Larry. Stand there while he gets on his back – lie back down, Senator Pigboy – and stick your toes in his mouth while I stand here between the senator’s legs and grind my heel into his crotch like THIS.”
“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, Jesus.”
“Shut up and get your mouth back on Larry’s toes.”
“Mr Sherwood, are you sure this is okay? I mean . . .”
“He’s your boss, isn’t he? And he wants your feet, doesn’t he? So give ’em to him. If you want to hold onto your job.”
“But jeez, Mr. Sherwood, I’ll bet that hurts.”
“How about it, Senator Faggot? You had enough pain? Maybe I’ll lighten up if you make me feel real, real good. I’ll just drop my pants and squat over you – back off, Larry – squat over you like this, and now I wanna feel that born-again, right-wing tongue shoot straight up my ass. Oh, yeah, that’s it, you just go ahead and clean me out real good. Hey, Larry, this feels really good. Look good to you? You want to take a turn? Oh, yeah, I can see by that big bulge in your pants that you do. Strip down and you can have a crack at him. No pun intended . . . Hey, Larry, nice legs.”
“I’m on the track team, Mr Sherwood.”
“And look at that dick. Meaty head, big old piss-slit. Pretty, huh, Senator?”
“Sure is.”
“Sure is, SIR!”
“Sure is, sir.”
“Yeah, that thing is drooling . . . And what a fuckin’ nice hairy ass. Larry, you just go ahead and sit on his face.”
“Like . . . like this?”
“Yeah, like THAT, college boy.”
“Uh, Mr Sherwood, do you think you’d mind if I jerked off some?”
“Yeah, I think it would be all right if you played with that big, stiff pole of yours. Just don’t shoot. Not yet. I bet your big, important dickhead of a boss would like that hot spunk for himself. Ain’t that right, Senator?”
“Mmmmff.”
“Hey, take your butt out of his mouth for a second, Larry. I can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying. Now then, you fucking piece of senatorial shit, repeat after me: ‘I’m going to eat this boy like he was Jesus Himself.”
“Blasphemy, that’s blasphemy . . . Ow!”
“Say it!”
“OWWW!”
“Say it, motherfucker, or you’ll really hurt.”
“I’m gonna eat him like he was . . .”
“You fucking pussy, say it.”
“. . . eat him like he was Jesus Himself.”
“Okay, Larry boy, why don’t you go ahead and fuck his face? You ever fuck a man’s mouth before?”
“Never.”
“Hear that, fuckpig? You make sure you do an extra-good job on this boy’s virgin pecker. Larry, you got any complaints, you let me know and I’ll give him a good kick in the ribs, like THIS.”
“Unhh.”
“Shut up and get sucking. That’s it, you right-wing fuck-boy, tongue that piss-slit real good. Meanwhile, I got me a big ol’ hard-on of my own, and it needs some attention. Hey, college boy, you ever touched somebody’s dick before? Besides your own, I mean.”
“Not since I was a kid. It’s against my religion.”
“Shit, it’s against EVERYBODY’S religion.”
“Yeah, but . . .”
“That boss of yours making your dick feel good? Yeah, he is. I can tell by that shit-eating grin of yours. Okay, now you’re going to make my dick feel good. Spit in your hand and jack me off. I’m sure you know how to jack off.”
“Uh, okay.”
“That’s it, Larry, grab it real good. Up toward the head. Faster. Oh, yeah. You must’ve practised on yourself a lot. Right? Just you and yourself on those long, cold nights . . .”
“Mr Sherwood?”
“Yeah?”
“I wanna shoot. I really wanna shoot.”
“Hang on a minute. Take your hand off my dick. Play with my balls.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. And keep skullfucking him. Pump that big, hard thing of yours right down his throat. I’m gonna finish myself off, I’m gonna sperm off right . . . in . . . his . . . goddamn . . . fucking . . . face . . . ohh, YEAHHH!”
“Oh, dang, you came right on his mouth, right on my crotch. Oh jeez, I’m gonna come, I’M GONNA COME . . . ohhh . . . jeez.”
“Fuck . . . oh, yeah . . . fuck, yeah. Looks like you had big fun, Larry. You still got a fucking boner. You liked fucking your boss’s face on the goddamn floor of his goddamn office, huh?”
“Oh, jeez. Oh, jeez. What’ve I done?”
“Shot a load of come down the throat of a United States senator, near as I can tell. Hey, is there a towel around here, Senator? Senator?”
“You can . . . you can use my shirt.”
“That’ll do. As long as you wear it afterwards.”
“Mr Sherwood?”
“Yeah, college boy?”
“Mr Sherwood, shouldn’t the Senator be allowed to get his rocks off? I mean . . .”
“Nice how you look out for your boss’s interests, Larry. Yeah, okay, I guess so. Senator, you got my permission. You may jack off that pathetic excuse for a penis. Just be quick about it.”
“Unh. Unh. Unh. Unh. AAAAHH! Oh . . .”
“Dang, what a load!”
“. . . God, oh, God, oh, God . . .”
“So how about it, you boys have fun? Larry?”
“I surely did.”
“. . . oh, God.”
“Enough piety, Senator. You got what you wanted?”
“Yep.
”
“Y’know, I’ll bet you usually do get what you want.”
“Got that right, You surely did get that right. Hey, Larry, go get the man his money. How much was it?”
“Usually charge two-fifty for an outcall. But this required some extra acting. So make it an even four hundred.”
“Well, now, that seems like a lot.”
“But you’ve gotta admit I’m worth it. And you wouldn’t want any undue publicity, now, would you?”
“I surely do hope that’s a joke and not a threat. Because I am a very powerful man with very powerful friends, and shitheads who cross me wind up regretting their folly, more often than not.”
“Split the difference. Three-seventy-five.”
“Pay the man, Larry.”
“Thank you kindly.”
“You’re not going to count it?”
“I believe I can trust you. If you can’t trust the government, who can you trust, eh? So I’ll just bid you gentlemen a good afternoon.”
“Show the man out, Larry.”
“Well, Senator, I must say that I enjoyed myself. That hustler fella sure seemed to know his business. You going to use him again?”
“Mebbe so, though things did get a bit edgy toward the end. Still, he did do a good job pretending to be you, Sherwood. He’s not a half-bad actor. Comes to that, you did a good job playing my aide. I don’t think he caught on.”
“Enjoyed it, Senator, enjoyed it a lot. Though it was a tad strange, you calling him by my name. Say, is there really a Larry?”
“Um, he’s a boy who worked for me a couple of years back.”
“And did he . . .”
“Let’s move on to more pressing matters, shall we?”
“Sure thing, Senator.”
“Good, good. And?”
“You can rest assured, sir, that when I get back to Family First, I’ll talk the board into shooting you another nice, fat campaign contribution.”
“And it goes without saying, Sherwood . . .”
“Please, call me Rick.”
“. . . Rick, that the legislation you and your fellow patriots so ardently support will make its way swiftly through the legislative process.”
“Veto?”
“He wouldn’t dare. Wouldn’t dare.”
“Well, thanks again, Senator.”
“My boy, next time you’re in town, let’s do it again.”
“Mighty, uh, generous of you.”
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 1 Page 43
