NIGHTMARE ALLEY   Part III

As I walk home I meet Mrs Hollings from down the street. I give her a smile and a quick nod. I can see her blushing and smiling at me. I know where she comes from.
I hardly ever talk to my customers whenever I meet them in the street. I guess the business demands a modicum of  discretion. Although I have made many a good friend thanks to Max, ( and I used to be such a recluse) , it is important to avoid too much familiarity in the open. I cannot see why would anyone object to this lovely and healthy activity, but you know, it’s better to keep things simple.
My self-image has really improved over the past three years. I used to let myself go, let myself be totally disparaged by my looks and prospects. Damn, I was so resigned to live a stupid life, I did not even know it was a stupid life. A silly cow wasting her life in front of the telly, that was me and no mistake.
Max has changed all this. I can see men glancing at me now. I have gained in confidence and allure. Every part of me is alive with joy and energy these days. In a way, Max is acting like a rejuvenating ointment , and I confess that even when I’m not using him, I often find myself holding him while watching my TV show, and stroking his little body against my neck or my belly or my thighs, like a talisman. (I usually gag him then, otherwise he keeps expressing his joy and I can’t concentrate on the show or the sensations)  His presence is simply so soothing.

She holds me so tight I can hardly breathe. The warmth of her fingers, of her gigantic body that lies all around me is making me sweat profusely, even though I thought I hadn’t a gram of water left in me after the last customer. Her enormous index finger goes on to the back of my head and she presses my face against the monstrous clit. The rosy  flesh is even hotter and I would nearly feel burnt if I wasn’t fighting so hard to get a gulp of air between the strokes. My body is already covered in the juices that oozs through the vast complex labia. Any minute now and she will ….

I can see Mrs Petersen entering my house on the other of the street. She enters through the main door, after having rung the bell. The little ad on the door says “Astrological counselling – Appointments only”. This is simple enough to keep over-curious people away and to explain the comings and goings. One needs to be cautious, I may expand the blessing of the “Max experience” as we call it among ourselves now, but I’m in no hurry. I still wish to keep us out of the real world, to protect our intimacy. I know Max would not like me to loose the special bond we have by diluting it too much with other women.

I’m exhausted, lying like drowning fish on the vast belly. The fleshy ground is still rocking from the after effects of her orgasm. My head is pressed against her tummy and enormous gurgles can be heard beneath the hot skin. A large finger is stroking my back. She’s happy with me. They all are. I brace myself for the coming ordeal under the cold water faucet….

I walk in to find Miss Affords leaving the place. Her cheeks are still slightly flushed. She looks so relaxed and happy. I nod a polite goodbye to her. In the kitchen I find  Marilyn just about to start a pot of coffee. She smiles at me and nods towards the window. I turn my head to see Mrs Petersen walking on the lawn to the bungalow, Max’s box under her arm. She was just in time. Good, I don’t like it when Max stays unused for too long. He may grow restless in the darkness of the box.
As we chat, Marilyn and I, a nice cup of coffee in our hands, my mind keeps coming back to Mrs Petersen and what she’s doing with Max. I feel a pang of jealousy for a brief second. He’s probably exploring her inner sanctum as we speak. She’s probably already quite worked up from the pleasure he’s giving her. Somehow, at times, that disturbs me, even though I know they will never know each other as we do, Max and I. I chase away these dark thoughts.

The vast body is throwing its shadow over me, as I run away, struggling in the deep carpet. Anything to gain a minute or two away from all the flesh, all the heat. A resounding giggle explodes way above my head. I look up to see her down-turned face smiling at me as she goes on all fours, delighted with my stupid flight. A river of dark hair is falling towards me. I keep running towards the underside of the bed. A gust of hot breath is suddenly blowing on me. The next second I’m projected on the carpet by the heavy contact of something wet and grainy in my back. She licked me off my feet. I can see the vast and dark area under the bed. I know I won’t make it. Two fingers settle on both sides and start their pressure on my hips. I’m brought straight to the large brown protrusion of an erect nipple. The collision of my face against it knocks the wind out of me. High above a gasp of pleasure puts an end to the giggling…..

Mrs Petersen is one of the most assiduous customers. I think this young woman is afflicted with the worst possible husband, always travelling and hardly ever paying her any attention when he returns. I can understand she finds in Max a welcome respite from her dreary life. That’s what we do, Max and I, we provide happiness to the people around us. That thought now brings a smile back to my face.

The bell rings and another woman enters the parlour. She’s really early this one. Well, she’ll have to wait till Mrs Petersen has finished with Max. That should not be too long anyway.
Some of the women of Nine Miles Alley have really developed a strong addiction for these sessions and I must say I am not surprised to see them come eagerly to my house as early as 8.00 or as late as 10.30. Many will book a few sessions in advance now and simply cannot spend a week without at least one intimate moment with our local hero. I’m so proud of him. Three years have passed, and I love him just as much as ever.

The box is rocking to the rhythm of her gait. I try to get my wits around again for the tenth time today, staring in the darkness. I’m so tired, every muscle hurts. I’m panting hard. This is not a good day. I know I have a minute or two before the box opens and fingers grab me again. Two minutes to try and remain a human being. I breathe slowly…

After our long chat, Marilyn updates the cashbook now (She gladly helps me when I take a day off) so I leave her to it and go to my bedroom to try on this little top I just purchased at the mall.  From my window I can see the bungalow. Mrs Petersen is coming out, her steps not as steady as when she went in, I must say. She carries the box  against her chest , as if she just couldn’t part with it. I wait a second by the window and sure enough, an elegant woman is coming out now, the box tucked under her elbow. She’s a new customer, Miss Stuart, recommended by Marilyn’s neighbour. I’ll have to meet her at some stage, I like to know my customers. (We’re very strict on moral situation)  She enters the cottage, closes the door after her. The little red light over the door gets brighter, but it’s hardly visible at this time of day. I have a joyful thought for our little Max who is now discovering a new face above his box. It’s good for him to meet new people, and fulfil new needs. It keeps him on his toes I’m sure. I wonder how this woman intends to have her way with him. A simple insertion? A loving cuddle? Something kinky? It’s just impossible to guess from what you see of them….

Her pleasure is crushing me. The heat is unbelievable. My world is made of palpitating tissues, oozing warm juices. Vast organic sounds echo all around my oven of flesh. I try and push my way towards the light. She keeps her finger in the opening and I get some air and light from her sliding motion. Her finger tip is pushing against my head, trying to send me deeper. I try and avoid reacting, every move I make is sending sensations to the vast body above, and the palpitations are getting more insistent, the space is slowly narrowing. The inner walls get even wetter and at the same time more rigid. If she could only remove her finger I might be able to….

I sometime read the guestbook in the parlour to get an inkling of what all those women do with Max. It really is so refreshing to see the variety of ways we women have to get satisfaction. Mrs Hanson for instance, always comes with some food article like whipped cream or peanut butter, or something. I guess Max gets to be part of her menu somehow ( I hope he does not get to eat too much of it himself, this is always quite fattening stuff.) . Once a customer related how she got two orgasms from Max in some underwater insertion exercise while in the tub, and all of a sudden plenty others started to ask me for extra towels and soap and stuff. It was a fad, I guess, and it only lasted a summer, but I confess I was quite anxious one of them would drown my hero under her butt by accident (myself, I love to have him ride one of my yellow rubber ducks, when I take a bath. He always shouts at me in the most comical and tender way…)

She’s not finished with me. She will milk me for every penny worth. She wipes her juices from me by stroking me on her bush, where I leave a  wet trail. The sudden ascension to her lips is so fast, my stomach lurches. My head goes deep into the wet cavern, her uvula striking me in the face as she leisurely sucks on my whole body. The stench from her throat is revolting. What the hell did she eat before coming here? I just try and keep my arms away from the invisible teeth around me……

I have read some kinky things in our little book, but last year something started I never quite anticipated. One afternoon in May, young Miss Allen came with a friend. I was surprised to see two customers in the parlour. Not to mention that I never suspected this from our shy little Miss Allen. I was a bit embarrassed, this was new to me, and I did not now how to react. Miss Allen’s friend was indeed a very attractive young brunette, quite angelic looking, if showing somewhat too much thigh under a pretence of a mini-skirt. We exchanged some awkward looks but then settled for the new fee that such a session would entail. After we agreed on the fee, I was actually quite pleased to leave the box in their hands. I only asked them to be extra careful with him. As I watched them walking to the bungalow hand in hand, I was giggling to myself. Max was in for quite a surprise. Two twenty year old young women should prove quite a task for him, but I was confident he was up to it. One could say I have faith in him.
When they came back, all giggles and kisses, their hair wet from the shower, I opened the box with a hint of apprehension, I must say. Max was panting on the floor of his little compartment, but everything was still perfectly in order. I gave him with a smile to the next eager customer.

When the two girls asked me to book two sessions in a row for the week after, I knew Max had been heroic again and it got me thinking about expanding our business in this unforeseen direction. One could not help thinking about the commercial impact of this transaction. (I pride myself in being an astute business woman now). I had also made a note in my diary about checking that scene in town and talking to Miss Allen about helping us with a bit of discreet publicity. I decided then to discuss the issue with Marilyn and Max. but I was sure they wouldn’t mind at all, considering the profitability.

 I watch exhausted the giant breast she’s about to poise on top of me. It descends upon me with a slow swaying motion, covering my entire vision. I take a big gulp of air before the warm flesh engulfs me and the pressure starts mounting. The mattress creaks under us. I feel I’m becoming part of it. Flesh and heat and weight is all I know for the next few seconds…

Now, a year later, my house is pretty well known within the female/female community in town. As matter of fact, after much enthusiasm shown by Miss Allen, and her friend Cassie, it is now a common occurrence to have two young ladies coming hand in hand to the sessions Nowadays, a good fifth of the appointments are made by these enthusiastic if unorthodox customers (Another proof of Max’s impact on my way of thinking, bless him). And today for instance, I noticed in Marilyn’s schedule that during the last four hours of the evening, Max will indeed “visit” no less than eight different customers. (Boy, will he be glad to spend the night with me after that!)

I try the top I just bought. It’s really pretty and I spend some time gazing at my image in the mirror. I’m tempted to go and see who’s waiting in the parlour but I know it would be bad form. I decide to check the offers for bedding in the catalogue I ordered. We need to change the mattress pretty often in this business, really. We have vastly improved the bungalow since we started I must say. The floor has been polished and trimmed to avoid any injury on our little Max (I know he gets to run quite a lot during some sessions). I had some special protections set on all electrical plugs, the doors have been measured to the millimetre, to avoid giving Max the temptation to crawl underneath in his games. Basically all steps have been taken to ensure a safe environment for him. He cannot hurt himself in anyway while playing with his wilder customers. (Mrs Green loves to run after him on all fours, she once admitted to me, and many women enjoy a game of hide and seek, so I’m glad all  angles have been nicely covered for the little fugitive.)

The soap is washed away under the assault of gallons of cold water, the same water that is entering my mouth and nose. She’s keeping me under the faucet much longer than is safe. The handling is very rough, she’s new at this. She nearly dislocates my shoulder with her heavy stroking. If she could drown me here and now, it would be such a blessing…. But I get to watch her  put her clothes back on, as she whispers a song. I’m soon back into the box. She gazes at me with eyes full of wonder for a few minutes before closing the lid.

As I relax, reading the catalogue, I hear the bungalow door open. It’s sad really, but I have to see who comes and goes in the place. Call me possessive, I guess. Mrs Stuart is coming out, looking elegant still, but with  a languor in her steps that is quite revealing. She’s gently patting the metal box in her hands, with a lazy grin on her face. I’m so glad our customers are so satisfied with our service…
I wait a minute by the window. Already they are coming out on the lawn, Kim and Alice. These two have been regulars for quite a while now. They were among the first ones “recruited” by our Allen and Cassie, our little promoters. Kim is as blond as Alice is dark. They form an odd couple, the sculptural Alice towering over the petite blond girl. Alice is holding Max’s box against her chest and I see Suzie lay a kiss on the metal container and let out an excited giggle before taking her girlfriend by the waist. It’s so nice to see people in love like this. They really enjoy using Max and their comments in the guestbook have given many of us some wild ideas. I watch the two girls enter the bungalow and their giggles are muffled by the closing sliding door.
I sigh with delight. Although I was hesitant at first, I’m glad I opened my mind. It is so nice to be able to bring love and harmony to these charming couples.

They are kissing so passionately that they have forgotten about me, sandwiched between their bellies, like a speck of dirt. I’m pressed harder and harder into the blond girl’s flesh as her friend is letting all of her weight down on her. I feel the panic setting in. I’m nothing. Just a thought between two flesh. In the utter darkness, I begin to drown in their sweat….
When I come out, in a roar of giggles and moans and a sudden coolness of air, I cannot make sense of my surroundings. Too much flesh, too much motion. I don’t know where the blond finishes and where the brunette starts. Enormous limbs move around, too long to comprehend. The whole world is motion and skin and earthquakes…
When I emerge later from the constricting vagina of the blond girl, I’m greeted by the long fingers of her friend. I cough and spit the cum that nearly drowned me, while she dangles me above her lover’s face. The mouth that opens to engulf me smells much better than the previous woman.
A minute later, it is the brunette’s turn to spread her legs open...

When they come out one hour later and the next excited couple cross the lawn, also cooing at the box  (it’s a red-hair and a brunette with very short hair, this time), I have this epiphany about our little Max being the bond that brings all these people together, in a chain of love. It moves me no end (… and actually turns me on so badly I get fidgety and all). I wish the day was done and I could be alone with him.

I was worried for a time, afraid they might work him up too much or grow too wild with him. I know it was a bit difficult for Max at first to get the hang of handling two girls at once. I could notice he was very tired at first, and I had made a rule of leaving him ten extra minutes in his box before passing him out to the next customer. I even made sure he had a double ration of sugar and water to get his energy back. The last thing I wanted was to have him “overdose” on the bodies of these wild lovers. But it wasn’t long till I had to resume the usual rhythm, the customers were way too impatient. I know Max can take it like the man he is.

My hips are caught in the vice of her lips. I can feel the sharp teeth against my skin, the lips are squeezing my waist, while her tongue is playing with my legs. Above me I can only see the two deep holes of her nostrils, blowing hot air on my face. I beat my useless little fists against the upper lip. Behind me the open mouth of the other girl is coming closer                     

I keep pacing around the room, glancing at the bungalow below. The night is dark and the little red light is a reminder that Max is attending other women’s pleasure.  I know he’s thinking about me when he does. I so long to hold him again, and  keep looking at my watch. Time seems to be dragging its feet today.
When the light go off and the door opens at last, letting out the last happy couple (it is nearly 10.00 pm) I rush down the stairs and am about to literally snatch the box from Marilyn’s hands with a sigh of relief, when she stops me with a laughter and tells me that another couple of Miss Allen’s friend had requested a late session and that she had agreed. I can actually hear some voices and giggles from the parlour. For a second, I’m despair-stricken, and actually contemplate taking the box from Marilyn’s hands and run away with it. But I’m a reasonable person. I smile back and only sigh when Marilyn enters the parlours with the box. Excited giggles resonate for a second and soon, I watch with envy a couple of lovely young ladies crossing the lawn with my Max in their hands. Damn. I go back up in my room, grumbling.

The lid opens. Long well manicured fingers crawl inside, searching for me. I soon find myself deposited in the middle of the vast bed, looking up at two moving mountains of flesh who come kneeling right and left of me. They look at each other’s body with hungry eyes, stroking each other’s breasts, then turn their gazes to me. In it, I read all the lust waiting to be unleashed. Around me the four thighs are creating deep depression in the plain of silk and the shadow darkens upon me, as their bodies are getting closer far above my head. I witness their first embrace from underneath, hear the skin brushing against the skin. Once in a  while they glance at me, smile , and resume their embrace. I’m of no consequence to them, a mere toy waiting to be used … When the first girl starts lying down on the bed, (nearly crushing me under her butt in the process), they invite me to their game…..

I smoke cigarette upon cigarette, wishing they’d finish sooner, and it occurs to me that I, too, have developed an addiction to his little body. But of course in my case, it’s not just physical.
I’m so full of love for him.
When they come out at long last, carrying the box, I make an effort an effort to restrain myself and walk calmly down the stairs to the kitchen. There, the two girls are renewing their appointments for next week. Marilyn is very amused by me tonight, and I can’t blame her. She makes fun of me and takes her time to gather her things. When I lock the front door at last, I feel like my life has been given back to me.  I grab the box on the table, rush up to my bedroom. I nearly tear my new top in my excitement, jump on the bed, and, not paying attention to his tiny screams, I insert him real deep. As his tiny and tender struggle starts rocking the world for me, I wonder how I could ever express to him the love I feel.

I lay sweating in my bed, leisurely staring the ceiling. It’s 3.30 am, and my tummy is rumbling. The orgasms I’ve been through tonight have really made me hungry. I drowsily walk to the kitchen, feeling the cold tiles under my naked feet. I shiver in the cold of the opened fridge during my search for a quick bite. I find a piece of the cake Marilyn brought us earlier on. She’s so nice. I eat it on the spot, I’m so ravenous. As I walk back to bed, I feel Max still fighting to come out of my pussy.  Hum. What the hell, tomorrow is off again, and I can sleep late, I might as well use him a last time.
 That puts a spring in my thoughts and I take off my panties in a hurry. As I open my thighs and wait for Max to emerge, I make a mental note not to forget to leave him in the parlour later, for Marilyn to open shop in the morning.

nostromo