Gender: Male Age: 37 Location: N/A
I reckon I was as much of a surprise to Vi as Vi was to me. I had got into the habit of entering through a door that opened directly onto the sun porch. Since Charlotte was ready to work at the stroke of eight o'clock in the morning, today, like always, I took off my clothes so I'd be ready for her.
As I turned around from folding my pants neatly in a chair, I saw the girl lying full length in a long chair. I stood buck naked, gazing at her whilst she started back at me.
Finally she said, "So you're him," with a jerk of her head toward the statue.
"Part of him, at least," I said.
She got up out of the chair, laughing. "Yes. I can see which part."
She had long hands, and a colorless face in which the large eyes were also pale. There was length to her body, the waist willowy, her neck curved like the neck of swan. She was wearing a denim skirt and a halter top, and her thin feet were bare.
I say "girl" because she was much younger than Miss Charlotte; no more than thirty, I would say, though I'm not much to tell the age of a woman. Even the way she walked, as she circled me inspecting my body front and rear, was lazy, as though she were so tired she wasn't sure she could take the next step.
"I can see what Charlotte was talking about," she said, coming before me to look into my face. A worry crease showed between her pale, corner-tilted eyes. "But I don't understand why she felt it necessary to have me on the scene."
"Maybe she just wanted to see you," I said politely.
She gave me a look out of the edge of her eyes. "Oh, yes, she wanted to see me, all right. We're lovers, you know."
She wasn't English, like Miss Charlotte. I couldn't tell much about her accent. She wasn't from around Pass Robin, though.
"Yes'm," I said. "I know."
"Isn't the idea shocking to a Gulf Coast redneck like you?"
"No'm," I said politely. "I reckon not."
"We've been together for a long time," she said in a secure sort of voice. "Five years, almost." She stopped talking. Her eyes were on Him, where He hung waiting to take His pose when Miss Charlotte came. "Do you know how women make love to each other?"
"Yes'm," I said. "Miss Charlotte told me all about it."
Her pale eyes having caught a deep glow, suddenly she was prettier. "We were home from the airport by eight o'clock last night, and we didn't get to sleep until three this morning. It was . . .lovely." She kept watching me for some sort of reaction to the ideas she was planting in my head. "What do you think about that?"
"It must be nice," I said.
"Is that all you've got to say?" She laughed, sort of nastily. "Don't you think it's a terrible waste, for two lovely women to deny men the abuse of their bodies?"
"I reckon people do whatever it is they like the best," I said, calmly refusing to get into an argument. I moved my shoulders. "If it's what turns you on, who am I to say you nay?"
She sneered at me. "But, like any man, you secretly believe I'd a lot rather have you. Isn't that it? Let me tell you, Johnny Stud, a man doesn't know what love can be."
"I ain't no stud," I said, wishing Charlotte would come on. For the first time, she was running late.
To my relief, here she came. "Well, hello," she said. "Are you two getting acquainted?"
"Yes'm," I said. "I reckon so," watching while Miss Charlotte went to put her arms around Vi and kiss her on the mouth. They stood holding each other, smiling, their bodies so close you couldn't tell where the one left off and the other began.
"Did you get enough sleep?" Charlotte said tenderly.
Vi yawned. "Oh, I'll take a nap after a while, while you're working."
Charlotte turned toward me. "Well, what do you think, Vi? Isn't he all I said he was?"
The two lesbian women were studying me with cool eyes. It didn't bother me; by now I had got used to Miss Charlotte's ways.
Vi shrugged. "It's a fine cock, if you care for that sort of thing." I wanted to tell her He wasn't an It, but I didn't.
Charlotte got intense. "Oh, better than that, Vi. He's the immortal cock of the world. At least, He will be when I get through with Him."
She came close, put the flat of her hand on my hip, stroking down my flank to grip His head in a tender hand. "But to do such a great work, Vi, I must know Him inside and out, be able to sketch Him in my sleep. I thought it would be simple, but it isn't, Vi, there are terrible complexities, it's Thing and Idea, and physical and spiritual, all very simple and yet so terribly complex. I'm still learning Him, Vi. The deeper I go, the deeper I have to go."
She was still stirred up by the talking, she had taken away her hand and was pacing back and forth, one fist clenched in her effort to make Vi understand.
"That's why I had to have you, Vi. You must help me understand, help me see, help me to create the great thing I shall create out of Him. Do you understand, Vi?"
"Oh, Charlotte, you always get so carried away with your work," Vi said in her lazy voice. She looked at me. She looked back at Charlotte. "You know I've always admired what you do. But I've never been able to help you with it."
"This time, though, you can help." Miss Charlotte paused. "You're going to fuck this cock for me, Vi. Understand? You will take Him into your body, you will know Him, you will use Him like He was meant to be used."
"For God's sake, Charlotte!" The girl was truly shocked. "If I'd know that was what you had in mind, I wouldn't have got on that plane. You know I hate the very idea of a man."
"Vi, you're bi, and don't deny it," Charlotte said.
"I used to be," Vi said deeply. "Before I met you. But now . . ." She put her arms around Charlotte, holding her fiercely. "I can't even think about a man now. The very idea makes me ill . ." Her whole body shuddered with disgust, while she clung to her lover like a little lost girl.
Charlotte hugged her. "If you love me, you'll do it for me," she begged. "I must have your help. Not just to know Him, understand Him, feel Him . . . there's also the physical problem of keeping Him on His toes. I can't work with anything less than a full erection, you see, and, like the boy says, He's got a mind of His own. I've done everything I can think of to keep Him interested. But it gets more difficult every day."
"No," Vi said, stubbornness edging her voice. "I won't do it. You can't make me."
Charlotte caught her by the waist, turned her facing her, looked deeply into her eyes. "Do you love me?"
"Yes," Vi said slowly. "You know I do."
"Then you'll do it. For me." She took a deep breath. "You will sit quietly and watch while we work. While you watch, you will hold in your mind what it will feel like to have Him plunging into you. You will desire it deeply, you will feel it truly. And then . . . when we're through posing for the day, you will fuck Him, you will suck Him, you will do all the things a man and a woman do together. While I observe, while I learn . . and it will also be a reward for Him . . ."
She paused triumphantly, looking now at me. "See? Look, Vi. He's already up and ready, just hearing what's going to happen. I didn't even have to touch Him."
I looked down. It was true. His head was red and throbbing. He was jerking impatiently, thrusting toward the pale girl with that mind of His own.
Charlotte, forgetting the talk, hurried to her work place and began slapping the clay, shaping it, building it, her eyes so greedy on Him I could practically feel their burning.
"Oh, that's lovely, that's the best yet," she breathed. "That's what I needed, oh, yes!" She glanced at her friend. "Just sit down over there, Vi, and do like I said. Look at this wonderful cock, think about Him, know you're going to use Him . . . Oh, yes, lovely, wonderful, marvelous . . ." Her hands were building the best modeling of Him she had done yet; even I could tell that.
Vi went obediently to sit on the edge of the long chair. I reckoned she must know, by now, how important it was to her friend to make her great work of art, for she did what she had been told to do. While I stood looking at her, her long hands and her long feet, and all the body in between, thinking that I hadn't ever had nothing to do with a woman who didn't want to have anything to do with me. I kept wondering how it would turn out to be.
Charlotte knew what she was doing, all right, when she had called Vi into the picture. He kept His stand longer than ever before, without her having to stop work to keep Him that way. I wondered why it was He could stay so damned ready for something that didn't want Him in the first place. But that's just how contrary He could be; the more I thought about it, the warmer I got, because it would just have to be different from anything me and Him had ever experienced. My old ladies, one and all, they was so greedy He hardly had time to get ready before they had jumped Him like a mad dog on a bone. Oh, she would be cold and slow, I knew it as well as anything, and she would make up her mind to hate every minute of it. But He had the confidence in Himself, you see; just let Him get in there and root around, He'd make a place for Himself, all right.
After the longest time, of course, He finally eased off the peak of expectation; you can't expect a fellow to live on hope alone. The minute she noticed, Miss Charlotte stopped in her feverish work and stepped back, tired but happy.
"It's the best yet," she muttered. "Can't quit now, I've got to finish it, got to be able to look at it whole, visualize how it will go with the statue." She raised her head. "Vi, take off your clothes."
"Please. You must! Please."
With such raggedness of begging in her voice, Vi could do aught else but what Miss Charlotte asked. Standing, she began slowly unfastening the halter. She showed me small breasts, with very large nipples, shaped like a pear is shaped, and well separated one from the other. Her rib cage was bony, so think I could see her breathing. He began to perk up again.
She unfastened the belt of her denim wrap-around, let it fall to the floor. Didn't have on anything under it, which was a nice surprise; He sprang to attention at the very idea that she had been sitting there all this time as naked as a jaybird under her dress.
Her body was a surprise, too. Though I had viewed her as thin and bony, her belly and hips showed a surprising lushness. Her flanks were wide though thin, with nice shadings down into the bush of hair. And that was just the finest surprise of all; black and very thick, like a mat between her legs, square across the top like a woman is but running down the insides of her thighs because it hadn't been trimmed in the longest time. The hair of her head was pale gold, long and straight to her shoulders, and I wondered how she could have black hair in one place and pale gold another. Maybe she tinted one or the other, I don't know.
So I stood there looking, thinking about what was hidden behind that enormously thick bush, and Charlotte was back at work again, not frantic to build this time, but slow and delicate, concentrating on the tiny shapings and sculptings that suddenly made the clay into a cock that was realer than real.
"Go close and touch Him," she said. "Just touch Him now, Vi."
"I don't think I have to," Vi said, making a small laugh. Then she did a strange thing. She had been looking at Him, like I had been looking at her, with the sort of fascination she hadn't shown before. Suddenly, though, she bit her lip and raised her eyes to my eyes. Gazing directly into me, a look crossed her face like unto a stroke of pain running deep through her body.
She turned her head quickly, and wouldn't look at me again until Miss Charlotte stopped, standing empty as she gazed upon her work.
"It's good, isn't it?" she said. "It's very good."
Vi went to inspect the piece. "Yes," she said. "Yes, it is."
Charlotte, so pleased with the quiet words, put one hand warmly on her friend's arm. "Thank you, Vi," she said. "You understand now, don't you?"
"As much as anyone who isn't an artist can understand," Vi said.
They were so close, I was just left out in the cold. But then Miss Charlotte, putting her arm around her friend's waist, turned Vi's naked body toward me.
"All right. The rest of it now."
"It's not necessary now, is it?" the girl said, her voice rising on a note of panic. "The work is done."
"This is just a model. It must be done on the statue, you see, and I'm not ready yet for that. There'll be another preliminary model tomorrow, and the next day, and the next." Charlotte shook her head. "I don't know how long it'll be before I dare risk . . ."
"But you're through for the day, aren't you?" Vi, in her turn, was begging now,, as Miss Charlotte had begged before. "So what difference does it make?"
"One can't make the promise and then break it, can one?" Charlotte said seriously. "That would ruin Him completely, don't you see that? Tomorrow He might well refuse entirely. One must, above all, be honest with a cock." She stood away from the girl. "I won't let you cheat, Vi. You must go through with it, because you let Him believe that you would."
Vi shuddered. "But . . . Charlotte . . ."
Charlotte turned to me. "Go over there and lie down. He's going to get fucked now. Just as promised."
Miss Charlotte had the Indian sign on Vi, all right; when Charlotte took her elbow, she came along meek as any lamb to gaze upon me laying ready on the daybed.
"I want you on top," Charlotte told the girl. She glanced at me. "You just lie there, let Vi do all the work. Is that all right?"
"Yes'm," I said. "However you want it, that's all right with me."
"Charlotte," Vi said in a voice that was raw with hurt. "You're really going to make me fuck this man?"
"I'll be right beside you, kneeling close enough to touch," Charlotte said softly. "Because I must see it, I must experience it with you, through you . . ." She gave the girl a little push. "Go on now."
The girl slowly laid her naked body between my spread legs. The long hair fell down over her face, so that she pushed it to one side. Her eyes were wide and still as she gazed upon Him. I waited for her to look at me again, deep into my eyes like she had done before, but she wouldn't look into my face.
Instead she reached out a trembling hand to tilt him ready. Her lip was bitten between upper and lower teeth, her face was suffering with the need to please her friend. With such cringing that I began to feel sorry for her, she lodged His head in the upper part of her cunt, just barely touching. The instant she felt Him, she shuddered, turning her head pleadingly toward her lover.
Charlotte wouldn't be denied. Her eyes bright and seeing, she was beside us, close enough to put her hand into the small of the girl's back, pressing her down onto the greased pole of His enormous erection.
She took Him slowly, hurtingly into a cunt as cold as ice. But she did take Him, deep and true, then lay stretched out absolutely still on top of me. She was taller than I was, so she laid her face into my shoulder to hide from my eyes . . . and maybe from Charlotte's. I kept as still as she did, feeling her tight and cold. Miss Charlotte's curious hand found my balls, making Him jerk.
"Fuck, Vi," Charlotte said urgently. "You must fuck Him, Vi."
Vi didn't answer to the command. Maybe she couldn't. She could only lay still, taking Him to the hilt like a knife into her guts, and on her cheek that touched my cheek I could feel the wetness of her tears.
Something moved inside of me. A feeling for the girl, yes, but also an excitement from knowing that she didn't want Him there. A sort of a rape, I reckon, and it did turn Him on. And me feeling, along with the lust, a pity that was close to love, so that I wanted to turn her under me, fuck her so nicely that she'd be bound to answer to Him with everything that was in her to answer with.
I wasn't supposed to do any such as that, though, and I knew Miss Charlotte would put a stop to it right away. So I stroked her, there on the inside, without moving on the outside, just a tiny, gently movement of His head to let her know He liked being where He was. Her body tightened, whether for it or against it I couldn't tell, so I stroked her again. I hadn't known a fellow could fuck a woman without moving, but I was doing it; we were sneaking it on Charlotte, right enough, making love secretly on the inside while to all outward appearances we remained still and cold. Except that Miss Charlotte, with her hand warm to my balls, must have felt what I was doing to the girl; but somehow that didn't disturb in the least the secret closeness.
Vi was warming. She didn't want to, but there was a secret flow of wetness and of warmth, and suddenly her cheek was tight against my cheek. She understood the secretness, too, she welcomed it, she was letting me know she was there, too. So for the longest while I fucked her in that manner, until her pussy started working, too, not only answering Him but leading Him on.
"You mustn't just lie there, you know," Charlotte said from all the way out there in the outside world where we could scarcely hear her words. "You must do Him nicely, love, do Him nicely."
Vi raised her head, the arch of her neck sending a leverage through her long body that pressed us even closer, and looked into my eyes. In her eyes there showed a warm, small laughter that was the joke between me and her, a big joke against Charlotte way out there in the cold world, and all of a sudden, still holding cold on the outside, she came in a sudden gush of liquid warmth that just damn nigh drowned Him. I smiled, she smiled; it was such a wonderful secret to share.
Then, only then, she obeyed Charlotte's demand, sliding herself up and down the throbbing pole. Charlotte chuckled, saying, "That's the girl, He's coming now, He's getting ready for it," because she still had her hand on my balls, you see, and could feel what was happening. Bi fucked, not wildly, but slowly, gently, lovingly, and when I came she took it with another small secret coming of her own. Then she laid her body down on mine, and for the minute we were warm and close.
Charlotte slapped her hand on Vi's bare ass in a sudden cheerfulness. "Now. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
With the coarse words, I felt Vi's cunt tightening turning cold. In a sudden movement, she rolled herself away and stood up. "I hated every minute of it," she said angrily and stalked naked out of the room.
I think she went away, though, because she didn't want to look at me; she didn't dare share the secret any longer, for fear Charlotte would see it too.
I'll tell you how I knew; the very next morning the minute I came through the door, Vi was all over me, her long arms around me it seemed like two or three times, her mouth hot and frantic on my mouth, while she laid her hips so tight I could feel the shape of her pussy through the thin nightie.
"Come on, come on, hurry," she whispered between snatching one handful of kisses after the other. "Charlotte's still asleep, but we'd better hurry."
I just stood there. "We can't do that," I told her.
She pressed herself even closer. "Why not? It's our chance to do it by ourselves, without Charlotte hovering over us like a mother hen. Hurry." With an amazing strength of passion, she dragged me toward the daybed.
"But what about the posing?" I said. "He's got to be up and doing for the job of work."
"Who cares about that?" she said, whispering again. "Except Charlotte, I mean. You and I ..."
I put my hands on her shoulders. "Now, listen here, girl," I said. "I don't aim to do nothing to ruin Charlotte's work, I'll tell you that here and now."
She stood for a second, gazing at me. "You mean you want it as bad as she does?"
"I sure do," I said. "Why, just think of it! After I'm dead and gone, He'll be standing there forever for the whole world to admire."
She had quit listening at the first word. Because, going to her knees, her hands were busy at my belt buckle. She unzipped the pants, shoved them down, pushed down the Jockey shorts, and buried her face into my crotch.
"You've got to," she was saying over and over again. "I must have Him just once without Charlotte watching. I've . . ."
I put both hands tenderly on the top of her head. "So you liked Him after all," I said. "You really liked Him."
She gazed up wildly, both hands on Him now, stroking and petting. "Like Him?" she said. "Even when I was having men, I never found anything like Him." She put her face against Him, kissing Him, smelling Him deeply with deep breathings of her whole body. And let me tell you, that fellow knew He had won the woman!
"What are you doing, Vi?" Charlotte said from the doorway.
Vi stared frantically toward Charlotte. In a despairing move, knowing she had been caught out she took Him into her mouth, pulling deeply to bring Him to full erection. Then, leaning away, she got slowly to her feet.
"He looked sort of lackadaisical this morning, so I was getting Him ready for you," she said, sauntering carelessly toward the long chair she liked to lie in.
"No need to be so frantic about it, is there?" Charlotte said dryly. "Couldn't you wait until the boy could get his clothes off, at least?"
"I thought I was doing you a favor, Charlotte," Vi said angrily.
Charlotte shook her head. "Vi, you always were bi, and you know it."
Vi flung around, her whole body flouncing inside the thin nightgown. "Not since I met you, Charlotte, as you well know," she cried. "I've never been unfaithful to you, with man or woman. After all, fucking Him was your own big idea, wasn't it? It wasn't anything I wanted to do."
"You'll have Him again, Vi, don't worry about that. But you must wait until I'm through for the day." She turned to me. "Get your pants all the way off and let's get to work."
"I don't care," Vi said with sullen stubbornness. "It's all in aid of your art, you know."
That was how it went that day, Vi waiting sullen and silent as Charlotte worked. Because I was looking at her all the time, and remembering, there wasn't any problem about keeping Him at a stand, so Charlotte got a whole new model of Him, starting from scratch and finished with the tiniest detail. It was a wonder how she could make the clay take shape and form from her strong hands; and this time, it seemed like, her hands were surer and swifter than ever before.
She worked so hard, so focused on the fruit of her hands, it was like she wasn't even in the room with us. Only once did He droop out of His conviction, at which Vi, with a wriggle of her body, simply pulled her nightgown up to her waist, so I could gaze upon the black bush that hid her treasure. It brought Him jerking to attention.
"Fine, Vi, that's just wonderful," Charlotte said in a faraway voice, her hands busy with the finishing touches, her thumbnail shaping the groove under the eye. Vi smiled, made a face, and put her hand down between her legs. He throbbed again, because all of a sudden our secret was alive again between us.
Charlotte stood back, wiping her hands on her apron. "All right, Vi, he's all yours now. Just let me wash my hands and I'll join you." Her head came up with an alert lift, so that I knew she'd been looking forward to reward time also. "I want you on top, and Vi on the bottom."
I want to tell you, she had to wash her hands and get there quick, because Vi was suddenly over on the daybed, shedding her nightgown as she went. As I moved to stand over her, looking down into her waiting face, she was lying long and straight, her legs together, her toes pointed. The big nipples were standing up, just ruby red with ardor, and there was a secret little catlike smile on her mouth.
She didn't move as I leaned down to her, so that I had to place my knees on the outside of her legs. She reached one hand to guide Him, her legs still tight together, so that He lodged and then had to push hard to get inside where He wanted to be.
"Damn it, wait a minute, you two, don't be in such a great hurry," Charlotte called.
Hurring though she was, by the time she got there He was already deep, and I want to tell you, it wasn't like yesterday, cold and flinchy, no sir, as Vi wrapped her long arms around my head to whisper into my ear, "All inside, like yesterday. All inside."
So I laid still, though on top this time, and stroked her throbbingly, whilst she made her secret answer, going immediately into the throes, the warmth and wetness gushing, and I nearly lost it myself because we had been waiting and thinking for such a long time know, with yesterday's memory to help us along.
The secret fucking was so strong in us, it didn't matter that Charlotte was sitting behind, where she could see my balls, and touch them, and stroke my ass whilst doing it. I gazed into Vi's slanty eyes; then I laid my mouth to her warm mouth, and she took my tongue as I began to fuck her with slow, easy strokes that opened her up. Yes, sir. With each down stroke she was open more, her legs parting and lifting and then locking into the small of my back, and she was going with me, saying, "Ah, aah, aaah," and we were into it, rocking frantically, reaching deeper and deeper and hotter and hotter, until it all went off like a great big explosion and it wasn't a secret no more, no sir, you could have heard us all over the house, it was so wild and noisy.
"Now, Vi, you can't say you didn't like that," Charlotte's voice said from somewhere far off.
But she wasn't a part of us, not yet, because as I lay on the girl she began stroking Him inside, and before I could catch my breath, we were off again, sweeter this time and somehow nicer, and just so marvelous it made me think of all my old ladies rolled into one great big fuck.
That finished it, as far as I was concerned, but I wasn't anxious to leave her. Nor her to let me go; we lay looking into each other's eyes again, quiet now, smiling, and it didn't matter in the least that the secret was out.
I felt, then, the sting of Charlotte's hand on my bare buttock. I got up. Charlotte said, "I truly desired your cooperation, Vi, but I didn't expect you to be so wholehearted about it."
"What did you expect?" Vi said defiantly. "After all, you told me it was the greatest cock in the world."
"Yes," Charlotte said in a strange, tight voice. "Yes, He is, isn't He?"
I was busy finding my Jockey shorts, so I didn't know what was going on until I happened to turn around. Then I saw that Charlotte's head was between Vi's legs, her arms under Vi's ass to prop her up to it, and was just going to town with the licking and the loving. Vi glanced at me, smiling, and kept on smiling even as her legs locked strongly around her women lover's head and her hips began to grind against the busy tongue.
When they were done, Vi just laid there like a wrung-out dishrag. Charlotte turned on me most angrily, saying, "Well, I love the girl. Don't you see that I love the girl."
"Ma'am, it's all right with me," I assured her.
She smiled then. "Yes. I think it is," she said in her usual clipped tone of voice. We were as suddenly friends again as we had become jealous lovers so the same girl.
Was the beginning. In the days that followed, me and Vi got to make love when the modeling was finished with, and it didn't matter that Charlotte was right there with us, running the whole show. She made me fuck the girl every way a man can do a woman: dog fashion; with Vi sitting on my lap; standing up; with legs open and legs closed . . . you wouldn't believe all the inventions and variations I learned during that time. We even tried out some of the postures in that dirty book Miss Charlotte had showed me, and though I found a body can't be as limber as a snake, it can sometimes come pert nigh to it.
I also learned about women together, because every time me and Vi got through with each other, Charlotte had to make her run, too. It was not just mouth to pussy, either; Charlotte had what practically amounted to a little dick peeping out of her pussy, and could fuck the girl practically like I did. I must say, though I don't rightly understand how, they did seem to pleasure one another. I must admit, however much it sounds like bragging, that Vi, whilst making love with Charlotte, was always looking at me, remembering Him in the deeps of her eyes. Just no way to destroy that little secret we had started between ourselves without Miss Charlotte's knowing about it.
Afterward, they'd lie quietly in each other's arms. But, all the time, they were talking about Him. Charlotte asked ten thousand questions about how it felt to have Him inside of her, how He compared with other cocks she had known, just everything; she wanted to know and smell and understand all there was about it. Vi, with patience and great understanding of the need that drove Charlotte into her great work, did her best. And, it seemed, told it awfully well, because, listening to them talk, He would come to a stand all over again with His own recollections.
So the work went well. Miss Charlotte happily made model after model, saying each one was better, and just any day now I expected her to begin modeling the last great final cock on the waiting sculpture.
Somehow or another, she didn't seem to get there, though with each passing day she spent more and more time gazing at the unfinished piece, walking around it, putting her hands here and there on it's slopes and moldings. It was bothering her pretty bad; she got tighter of mind and grimmer of mouth,, because she had expected, I could tell, to be able to do it by now, and it scared her that it wasn't there in her like she had counted on.
Come the day she didn't work with her hands at all. To all intents and purposes, she had gone as far as she could go with the separate modelings. So it was now or never; that was finished, but the next part, the sculpture itself, hadn't yet come to her.
She was in a tizzy, all right. She spent the morning pacing back and forth between me and the statue. She'd first feel Him, with careful, knowing fingers; then she'd put both hands to the statue, stroking it and stroking it. Then back once more to Him. She stroked my body, which she had not done before, her hands sliding over the slope of my ass and circling around my waist and down my legs all the way to my calves. Her hands were trying to learn either whole body, not just Him, which was what she had focused on before. She looked so puzzled, so hurt, that I just ached for her; Vi, sensing it too, stayed quiet and still.
Somehow, we knew, couldn't either one of us help Miss Charlotte anymore. Something inside of her, by her alone, had to be worked out. Suddenly me and the girl were strangers, because she was working the deepest part of herself, digging hard, knowing that if she failed now, she would fail for all time, and the immortal cock would never be created. At least, not by her.
After it had gone on so for two or three hours, in which she looked older and tireder and scareder with each passing minute, she finally stopped halfway between me and the unfinished work. She looked from it to Him, and back again.
"I simply must face it, mustn't I?" she said quietly. "There really is but one way for a woman to know a man's cock." She gazed at the statue, she gazed at Him. "You must fuck me," she said, her voice so quiet and still it hurt to hear her.
"Charlotte!" Vi cried out.
Charlotte turned to her. "I've always said I'd do anything for my art, darling," she said gently. "I've never known until now just what the declaration could entail. But . . ."
Vi pouted. "You just want to fuck a man," she said like a jealous child, just absolutely refusing to understand what it was driving Miss Charlotte. "Don't try to kid me, lover. All this time you've been watching and wanting, haven't you? You want it, that great, nasty cock inside of you . ."
"You needn't see it if you'd rather not, darling." Quiet and still in voice, but I could see how shaken Charlotte was by her lover's jealousy. "But it shall happen. If it doesn't happen, I can't finish the work. It's as straightforward as that."
"You bitch, you can't full me!" Vi said, putting her hands to her face and beginning to cry. "It's all right if I'm bi, but you can't be too! You simply can't betray me. Maybe with another girl, a prettier girl, but not with a man . . ."
But Charlotte was looking at me, I was looking at Charlotte, and suddenly Vi, in all her jealous tears, was nothing but a raging child somewhere way off younger, nothing to do with two grown-up people in a grown-up world where great things get done.
I understood, you see. I reckon I had understood it all from the very moment Miss Charlotte had told me why she wanted to use Him as a model for the great cock of all time. Something in me, I do believe, had known it would have to come to this in the end, so that all the time she had been shaping and modeling clay I had been shaping and modeling myself - and Him - for the hour in which it would have to happen.
I understood; not in a thinking sort of way, you know, because I never have been much of a thinker. It was Billy, my twin brother who died of a fever when we were nine years old, who was the good thinker. Only in a feeling sort of way; though I had always counted Billy as the one of us two who had also felt things the best and truest. But it didn't matter, Billy was with me in both thinking and feeling in that moment when I did what I had to do, moving to Miss Charlotte and lifting her in my arms and taking her to the daybed.
As I carried her to the place where it would happen, she put both arms around my neck, clinging to me, and I was surprised by how light she was, how small in my arms. Beside the daybed, I stood her on her feet and began taking off her clothes. She waited quietly until at last she stood naked alongside my nakedness. I picked her up again; I kissed her deep and true; I laid her down.
She was like a warm doll under the strength of my hands. I had to lift her knees, open her thighs. She flinched, just once, when I put Him in her. Feeling the flinch, I eased Him slowly, very gently, but making her know Him every inch, insisting against the unwillingness of her flesh, until I lay deep and true.
I thought it was time to move then, but she laid a hand to each of my shoulders. "Be still," she whispered. "Let me feel Him. I must feel Him."
So I let her feel Him. Her eyes, her face, were far away. She was not cold, as Vi had been cold, but she was not warm, either. Once again I thought the time had come to fuck, but she stopped me again. "I must feel Him like a woman feels," she whispered. "It's very difficult. Very difficult. But I must."
I waited for her. After a very long time, a small smile came to her lips, and she said, "Yes. That's it, isn't it? He really is a lovely cock, isn't He?"
"The greatest in the world," I said, whispering too. "You told me He was. You were the one who knew."
"Yes," she said. "Yes. Of course." Taking her hands from my shoulders, she put them to each side of my face, holding my head to kiss me. Her mouth was cool, strange; I couldn't help but feel that it hadn't worked, couldn't work, because He wasn't, after all, what I, and Miss Charlotte, had believed Him to be.
Charlotte said, in a normally loud voice this time, "You can begin now. Begin, please."
I began. But I knew it had to be easy. If I failed now, Miss Charlotte would fail. And her flesh was so tender, so frightened of the manhood it had taken unto itself. So it took a long time, during which I fucked her with tiny movements, fearful of bruising her, hurting her, making her flinch again. Then, just a little bit stronger, a little bit longer, and she was trying - oh, yes, God - she was trying with all that was in her. And suddenly it was like a high gate to a strong fort had clattered down to let in the enemy; she was truly feeling it, her flesh waking, and she gasped slightly, knowing, as I knew, that she had surrendered that which she had been holding back in spite of all desire to know Him to the hilt.
It took much time yet, faster and stronger and fiercer and without end, even when I lost it, a man being able to stand only so much, it banging out of Him into her. I heard her sigh of disappointment, so I whispered, "That's just for openers, we're just getting started now, it's not done with yet, not by a long shot," and she made a glad little sound.
She was wetter now, with my witness, and warmer, and we built it all over again, until another gate went down, one we hadn't known about until it wasn't there anymore; and so, slowly, reluctantly, needfully, she became the woman to my man and started fucking me of her own accord, so that it was all there, solid and great, and she knew now, oh, yes, she knew, I could read in her hot flesh all the great knowing she had needed to know for the sake of her great work.
It was done, then, with me lying on her and her holding me in her arms, whispering, "Oh, my darling, my darling, my darling," her voice as soft and sweet and warm as her body.
But only for a minute, two minutes, before I knew she wanted me to take Him out of her body. I did so, reaching down to lift her to her feet. She came into my arms, huddling close and warm.
But only for another minute before she drew away, to show me a tearstained face and a trembling mouth. "You are a marvelous boy," she said. "With a marvelous cock. But of course you know that, don't you?"
"Yes'm," I said. "I know that."
"And more," she said fiercely. "So much more." She pushed at me with her hands. "Now, get away. Leave me alone. I must be alone."
I understood this, also. I hurried to put on my clothes and get out of her sight. As Charlotte went to her work place, she glanced carelessly at Vi and told her to get out too.
"Go make love to the boy, if that's what you want," she said. "But not here. Somewhere else."
We got out of there. But not before Charlotte commanded me not to go away, but wait outside until she called me. So I sat on a garden bench in the shade, watching Vi fidget and turn. She was still mad at both of us, just eaten up with jealousy.
Until finally she flung herself around, saying, "Well, if she can fuck you, so can I. Come on, we'll go to the bedroom." She made a nasty sound of her voice. "We'll do it where Charlotte and I sleep together."
"Vi, I can't do that," I said.
She put her hands on her hips, glaring at me. "What do you mean, you can't do it? You're a stud, aren't you?"
I shook my head. "I ain't no stud. And I can't do it, Vi. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is."
I knew I couldn't explain it to her. If I could have explained it, she couldn't have understood. Because she was nothing but an angry, jealous child. And maybe she didn't know whether to be jealous of me because of Miss Charlotte, or jealous of Miss Charlotte because of me.
The hours passed slowly. Noon came, hunger in my belly coming with it, but I didn't make a move to satisfy it. At some time or other, I don't know exactly when, Vi had disappeared into the house. She didn't come back, so I sat all by myself while the blazing Gulf Coast sun slanted toward the ending of the day.
It was near to the horizon when suddenly I raised my head to see Miss Charlotte standing across the garden. "You can come now," she said, in a voice so tired it was hard to believe.
I went to where she stood. Her shoulders were drooping; her face was empty. I touched her shoulder with one hand. "Is it done?"
"Yes," she said. "It is done. Come and see."
As we turned to go together, she put her arm around my waist, just as natural as could be. So I laid my arm to her waist, and together we walked to the sun porch, separating only to pass through the door. Then we stood together again, each touching the other, to gaze upon the finished work.
"It's all there, isn't it?" she said.
"Yes'm," I said. "It sure is."
"It's Him," she said. "And He is great."
"Yes," I said.
I can't tell you how I felt, looking upon what she had made. It had taken the all of her to do it - even the woman part of herself that she had fought so hard against having to use - but she had done it. And so, though I would come to death like all men, He would live on forever. A great Him.
"It's done now," she said, the tiredness showing again in her voice. "Of course, I must make the mold and cast Him in bronze. But that's only work, technique." She turned to me. "So I shan't see you again."
I looked at her. "But you'll have to see me. Won't you?"
"I shan't see you again," she said firmly. She walked away, taking away the nearness between us. "Before you go, I have something for you. I'll bring it."
She went away, to return quickly, trailed by a sad-looking Vi. Miss Charlotte had in her hands a golden chain, the lines massive, heavy, as she lifted it over my head to hang against my chest.
"I made it myself," she said, smiling. "So you must keep it forever."
"I will," I said. "But . . ."
She stood on tiptoe to kiss me on the mouth. "Thank you, dear boy," she said softly. "You were all I wished you to be. And more. So much more."
"But . . ." I said.
She shook her head. "I'm quite satisfied with my life, darling." She made her voice sound light and easy with the words. She glanced at Vi. "Can't you see that?"
"But you won't be," I said. "And then I'll be gone."
She turned her head quickly. "Yes. You'll be gone." I didn't move. So she added, "It's over, dear boy. Finished. There is nothing between us anymore. We have done it all now, and it would be a mistake to try to keep on."
I thought about it for a while. Then I nodded, feeling sad. "Yes'm. I reckon so."
I turned to look at the statue again, to gaze upon Him one last time in all His everlasting life. I felt a happiness growing in me, taking the place of the sadness, so that I could smile too, now, and say, "We did it, didn't we, Charlotte?"
Her voice was happy. "Yes. We did it."
"Oh, God, you two," Vi said in a disgusted voice. "I'm going to punish you for this, Charlotte. Oh, boy, how I'm going to punish you."
"Yes, darling," Charlotte said quietly. "You will need to punish me, won't you?" She might as well have been talking to a child. Because she turned to me, smiling tenderly, and held out her hand. "Goodby, boy. Go well."
I took her hand. "I will, Miss Charlotte. And . . . thank you."
There was more to say. But I couldn't say it. Because I was empty now. God, I couldn't begin to feel how empty I was as I walked out of her workroom for the last time. There was nothing in front of me, nothing at all that I could see, or feel, or know about.
But little did I know that, so soon, the immortal cock I was leaving behind would bring me to an adventure the likes of which I had not known in my life up till then.
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