And then, when she felt she could hold it back no longer, with both her own tubby fingers and Innocence's much slenderer ones pushing deeper and deeper through the smooth folds of flesh, stimulating her cunt and arse into dripping agony. And then, gasping from the passion shuddering through the mass of white flesh which jiggled with the penis's persistent thrusts into her mouth, she lovingly withdrew it and passed it to her cunt which swallowed it whole with ease and a little squelch. She lay back while she watching Innocence on top of her thrust in and out, now so much more expert than when they'd first made love, her beautiful firm breasts arching above her and her penis thrusting deeper and deeper into her, propelling her into orgasm after orgasm, forcing out gasps of pleasure which reverberated about the flat.
She could feel that Innocence was nearly about to come. "In the mouth! The mouth!" She cried urgently. She loved the taste of semen, and it was a long time since she'd tasted Innocence's. Her beautiful lover obliged, reluctantly withdrawing her prick and placing its twitching stiffness inside Blanche's mouth, from which soon emerged a slightly diluted mixture of semen and saliva which she tasted, swallowed some and allowed the rest to dribble down her cheek and in globules onto the upper reaches of her mountainous breasts. Innocence pulled out her shrivelled penis, while Blanche smiled.
"This is certainly better than reading about it!" She admitted. "Sometimes the imagination just isn't everything!"
Blanche stayed for a few days in Innocence's flat in the bedroom once occupied by Algebra. As she lay beneath the sheets she could hear the sounds of giggling and sniggering from the room next to her. That must be Dodie with Innocence, Blanche mused. She didn't know what to make of the young girl whose attitudes and lifestyle were so different from her own, and quite different again from Innocence's. She wondered what it might be that had brought the two together. Whatever it was, the passion of their love-life was not at all feigned. She let a pudgy hand wander down along the length of her thighs, while caressing her nipples with the fingers of her other hand. The sounds emerging from the other room began to change in character. The giggling and teasing was replaced by heavier breathing and a slow but rhythmic thud thud on the mattress.
Blanche's hands lowered down the bed, impulsively throwing aside the restrictions of the duvet covering her so she could feel the night air against her naked skin. Her fingers trailed over the large round contours of her stomach and then finding the moist and welcoming entrance to her cunt under the folds and dimples of her flesh, she eased her fingers in, deeper and deeper, twigging her swollen vagina, easing back the fleshy lips and squeezing in first one and then two of her round pudgy fingers. From the room next door, the rhythm of Innocence's and Dodie's lovemaking had become faster, more violent, more insistent. The bed rocked back and forth, the back of the mattress occasionally thumping against the wall, a high shrill cry emitted in spasms of ecstasy. Blanche's cunt became juicier and more liquid as she envisaged each of Innocence's thrusts as her beautiful penis pushed again and again at Dodie's hairy cunt, between those angular legs, those child-like knees, those fatfree thighs and that bony arse pushed again and again onto the mattress.
Perhaps, Blanche wondered, two hands now pummelling her cunt, Dodie was being penetrated in the arse. There was certainly an urgency and passion in her cries now that made it very likely to Blanche that she was. She could imagine her, arse in the air, while Innocence gripped her around the waist, her knees between Dodie's thighs, her penis pushing into the still hairy but much more puckered hole at the rear. Blanche allowed a finger to wander around her rear, using the vaginal juices to lubricate its entrance, and then two and then three fingers, arching up as much as her bulk allowed her to push her fingers against the ones pushing deeply inside from the front.
Dodie and Innocence were shrieking now. Cries which would have awoken Blanche had she been asleep. Dodie's voice the deeper and less feminine while Innocence gave the little gasps of passionate relief that Blanche enjoyed so much in her earlier acquaintance. She remembered those early encounters, Innocence's penis deep in her mouth while Chastity shared her attention and her cunt between the two of them. She gasped weakly herself, surrendered to her fantasies, as her fingers pushed and pushed, the rhythm of her bed beginning to match that thrown by a similar mass in the room adjacent.
And then release! She knew it was after that achieved by Dodie and Innocence as she heard them whispering together, their arms and bodies no doubt intertwined, as the pulses of orgasm shuddered through her body in wave after wave, leaving her exhausted and wasted, the strong smell of her vagina permeating the room and attached very strongly to her fingers and a simpering look of passion engraved on her face. She pulled up the duvet to cover the round mass of her body. She desperately desired Innocence's body at that time. She could barely wait for the next opportunity for Innocence's penis to plunge deep inside her again. She could almost taste her penis on her mouth, the delicious richness of her semen sliding down her throat.
There was no doubt in Blanche's mind of the sincerity of Dodie's love for Innocence. During her brief stay at their flat she had many opportunities to see its manifestations. It seemed that Dodie's hands were rarely, if ever, separated from Innocence's penis, idly holding it while the two of them watched television, following her into the kitchen when she was preparing food and holding it from behind as her lover busied herself on cutting the vegetables, kneeling between Innocence's young slender thighs and taking long lingering mouthfuls of it between her lips. How could anyone have so much energy and passion? Blanche wondered from a distance, not sure whether to avert her eyes or to relish the sight of such beautiful coupling.
Meal-times were as much passionate affairs as any other, while Dodie put forkful after forkful into her mouth with her left hand (she was left-handed), her other hand still clasped what was sometimes a deservedly exhausted organ between Innocence's ever naked thighs. When Innocence returned home, Dodie would leap up from whatever she was doing and run up to her lover, ease off her clothes and sometimes there and then lead her into the bedroom or just onto the hallway floor, opening her legs and letting the full length of Innocence's ever-ready penis slide easily into her lubricated cunt. Blanche sometimes felt envy. She'd never enjoyed a relationship as passionate nor as insatiable as her two hostesses, and she knew that her own lovemaking with Innocence, however passionate and orgasmic, lacked the intensity and persistence of Dodie's.
And this was combined with a love life that the two lovers pursued when not together. Innocence would make love with her co-stars while filming and for all Blanche knew with others of her friends and acquaintances. She knew that part of Innocence's love life was dedicated to herself, moments which she treasured and enjoyed with passion, unable to get enough of that beautiful feminine body, so curvaceous, slim and receptive, and that powerful thrusting penis pulsing again and again that rich tasting semen that Blanche loved taking down her throat, pleased to allow the small dribble to seep through her lips, run down her chin and onto her massive breasts. Dodie also had a richer sex life, which she kept no secret, sometimes recounting her passionate encounters and even bringing her lovers into the flat to enjoy passionate love while Innocence and Blanche sat together in the living room, Innocence showing nothing but indulgent pleasure as Dodie's shrill cries of pleasure echoed around the confines of the flat and the back of the bed thumping insistently against the wall.
Blanche could see that Dodie was an attractive woman, although not in the most obvious of 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 which sometimes could press 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 herself, 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 that 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 returns from the sales of her videos. Blanche had been negotiating with some new suppliers in Congress who had access to imported literature in translation which 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 ready market in this kind of literature, so she was eager to get representations of it 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 tended to put the books to one side, yearning for the simple certainties of Honore L'Oeuf's 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 quite 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 which 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 face 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 plunging 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 around and climbed onto Blanche's body, a finger twiddling her nipple and another already 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 beginning to stir 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 seeming 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 soon 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 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 her 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.
