Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One (35 page)

The car—or automobile, as
the doyennes once incredulously referred to these machines—pulled
into the driveway of a house to their right
and
Emma
got a
better
look
at
the woman
as
she
walked
inside,
absently
trailing her man.
She was pretty, with sapid, pink-painted lips and
light hair tumbling down her shoulders. Her well-rounded form was
prudishly ciphered
by a full-length dress,
its lacy hem swishing vigilantly about her ankles,
where her feet were ensconced in high-heeled shoes
that casually elevated the dignity of her whole figure.
The man
wore
a
comfortable
shirt and
trouser ensemble
in conservative colors.

In the distance a metallic clang erupted, a
gargantuan sound trailing low harmonics in its wake. Emma looked
around for the source of this phenomenon as it reverberated
ponderously about the valley, fading so gradually she suspected it
could be located by following its aftertones.

She had a clear
sightline
in
to
the
salons
of
several houses
. In each of these rooms two
st
uffed armchairs hovered
companionably
close behind streetside
panoramic windows. B
efore one chair in
every case a round pink rug waited
.

Emma watched as
t
he
men
took to their chairs
by
the last light of evening
.
T
heir women
entered
at different
intervals
to negotiate
various
domestic
details; fussing with the decor and fingering the
glow gnomes
to a
suggestively low radiance. Before long they
knelt without ostentation on the little pink rugs,
decorously
settling
their skirts and gathering long hair back with a
ritualistic familiarity. Several had brought drinks for their men.
One had a hand mirror.

As night cloaked the City,
the
nearest
of
them
—a
long-backed brunette—leaned forward between her
man’s
opened
legs, head coming to rest on
his
lap as
he
stared
diffidently
out the front
windo
w
, arms
comfortably perched
to either side, drink
in hand
.

“
What the fuck is this?”
Ione muttered in disbelief.

Emma stared as
t
he
women
clasped
their hands
behind
downswept
backs
,
rumps arched
graceful
ly
,
skirts
tumbled about
their staunchly planted knees.
Their
teeth
f
ound
zipper-pulls
with minimal fumbling
and
lowered
them to expose
cramped
briefs
, which they kissed and licked deferentially till the
appetites within were fully thickened.

The brunette’s
tongue dragg
ed
sideways, eased
her man’s
undergarment
open
t
o reveal the bulky head of
his
penis
. She
clasped it between her lips,
drew
it
forth
by patiently suctioning ministrations to
expos
e
a
modest
interval of its length.

“
Heh. Lookit that…” Mark
breathed.

“
Guess we’re not the only
thirsty folks around here,” Manassa hoarsely quipped.

Emma blearily regarded the women, trying to
estimate the sincerity of their service, swallowed sympathetically
to lubricate her throat. “Yeah. I could use a stiff drink myself,
but I’ll stick with a cup…”

Despite her own wretched
condition, she found herself impressed by the aesthetic of the
proceedings, watched in growing arousal as t
he women coaxed
fattening
pricks
out
by
increments till they
were
angled up presumptively for fellatio.
Cars gliding by slowed occasionally to watch.

The armchair-lounging
men
stared
impassively
out to
the street
, unconcerned
with this obviously routine pleasure as t
heir
penises were licked by
duty-minded slippers
, gracefully
swaying in elaborately concealing
couture
,
hands
carefully withdrawn from the oral theater of their lips, high-heels
meekly protruding from their tumbled skirts to deduct the very
dignity they moments ago conferred. R
umps
shift
ed
in
restive
abetment of hidden
frustrations as they sucked; Emma guessed their lingerie was
already well-
moistened from such prurient
affairs. She hungrily contemplated the head-givers’ gentle
complicity to public acts of fellatio,
eyes
lingering
on
the
obedient
flex
ion
of necks and
thighs
.

“
Quit it!
”
Ione
coughed.

Emma
blushed and
let her vagina
alone,
gaze averting to find Mark’s weak
grin
.
She
reached over and
scampishly
smacked his elevated
manhood
.
Ione glared and she resumed a serious demeanor as
another car prowled by their position, occupied by a trio of
alert-looking men in dark red suits.

“
It’s not safe for us to
linger here,” Ione
decided. No one
disagreed.
“We’re incredibly
conspicuous
naked
.
I don’t know
exactly
what
would
happen if we were discovered, but everyone seems pretty
serious about tradition…”

“
Can we get clothing?” asked
Manassa
.

“
Do we
want
clothing?” Ione sourly
replied
. “I mean, look at
these slippers!”

T
hey
turned back to the drama of
fellatio on the other side of the street,
watched
limber
necks bob
on
thick pricks
through wide salon
windows. The women acquitted themselves with a dignified
sensuality, and Emma’s interest fixed on a blond to her right,
well-revealed by her angle of surveillance. Her bright lipstick was
unblemished despite the crisp tip-to-crotch travel of her face, a
motion accentuated by a delicate twist at the point of deepest
reception that quizzically flung her hair. Her mirror was placed
such that her man could watch this performance from the side, and
Emma saw him glance there from time to time, stolidly evaluating
her technique.

She found herself inevitably drawn to the
pink rug peeping out from under the woman’s skirts. It set the
whole context of the evening just by its presence, fixing her
relation to the man enjoying her humbly supplied favors.

The blond sucked on, and the patient lewdity
of her service urged a long ungratified craving back into Emma’s
imagination. Despite her thirst and exhaustion—or possibly abetted
by it in some unconscious way—she found herself masturbating again.
The men sipped their drinks, informally timing the ritual by this
consumption. The blond maintained the same, efficient velocity of
head-giving, signaling personal excitation only by the clenched
orbit of her rump.

“
These slips can work the
bitter spitter,” she acknowledged.

“
They’re clearly quite
docile,” Ione grimly agreed.

Mark scanned the dilapidated condition of
their own group. “I really do wonder what their reaction to us
would be.”

“
No reason for
you
to worry, from the
look of things,” Ione muttered.

One of the men drained his
drink, angling the glass up symbolically. His companion accelerated
her effort in response and before long s
emen squirted into
her
throat
, remarked only by a
slight catch in the rhythm of her headgiving. He casually set his
glass to one side as she fastidiously swallowed male essence. To
her left and right the others were gulping dicks to fulfillment,
and Emma felt her own arousal peak, plied her clitoris with a
briskly circling digit as her companions pretended not to
notice.

One by one the women
eased to
completion
, mouths
lingering to
suck
off
any afterspurt
s, then w
ith a
faint
suggestion of a bow each
was
up and off the cock,
stepping obediently to some other
chore
.
Contented
peckers lowered
gradually up and down the street,
were
somberly
zippe
d
from view.

Emma leaned back, released a long,
sympathetic exhalation. They were all silent for a little,
confounded by their introduction to the metropolis and troubled by
the implications for their own safety. Ione grunted in frustration,
obviously seeing no simple option.

“
We need something to drink
and somewhere to drink it. And clothing, obviously.

“
I’ll go,” said
Mark
, breaking the
silence
.

“
Just you
?” Emma
questioned
.

His g
aze sw
u
ng
around to
her
matter-of-factly
.

“
Well, n
ot to put too much emphasis on
gender
, but
…
”
H
e gestured to the
neighborhood
before
them. “
I
t seems like an advantage to
be on
the
dick
end of things
around here.
”

Ione snorted.
“Really? Just ’cause of all these slippers going
down with the sun?”

Mark ignored her sarcasm. “Look, it only
takes one of us to get what we need. And if there’s trouble I won’t
have to worry about the whole group.”

“
I could
go
,” Manassa
offered, visibly intrigued by the danger.
Ione
stared unhappily at the bigger
woman,
measure
d
by moments like this, Emma
knew.

“
Mark should do it,” she
hastily asserted, knowing it was what Ione wanted.

He
stood at this nomination, stretching painfully, then
turned to
them
, whispering
with laconic import
.

“
Give me a
day
. Till nightfall.
D
on’t move from here, or don’t go very
far if you do
.”

“
Alright,” Ione reluctantly
concurred.

“
Good luck,” Emma whispered,
echoed by Manassa.

W
ith
a
careful surveillance
of
t
he
neighborhood,
Mark
stepped
over the
hedge
and disappeared
down
a narrow alley,
apparently unremarked.
Emma watched till he
was gone, then
settled back to
wait
.

M
ore
cars went by, s
ome
occupied
by
people
obviously
journeying
to
social
engagement
s
given their carefully groomed appearance
and anticipatory
demeanor
.
T
he use of
gnome-powered transport
was a
necessity
here she realized,
where so much distance was collected
in
one
place
.