Chapter 3

Romo wasn’t sure just how much he liked Lisa. Oh, he enjoyed making it with her sexually, all right; partly because fucking humiliated her and partly because screwing her gave him a sense of having done something useful-of having provided her with a bit o heterosexual therapy, of having given her an insight into the pleasures of man-woman sex. But did be like her? He wasn’t sure. She could be incredibly vulgar at times, and she enjoyed dishing out humiliation as much as he enjoyed watching her be humiliated. The way she had behaved with Jan the other night, in front of the group… She hadn’t been very nice to Jan, really, though God knows she hadn’t behave any worse than Romo himself.

There were moments when Lisa could be remarkably tender. She did love Jan; she said so, and he believed her. It wasn’t the same kind of love a woman would have for a man, or even the sort that a true lesbian would feel for a fellow dyke, but it had a certain sincerity. It was a sisterly love with incestuous overtones, one might say.

And the story of Lisa’s first lesbian experience, her friendship with Marcelle, had been deeply touching. She had told the story with genuine emotional warmth. It had been more than a confession of sin; it had been a reminiscence of a true friendship, a friendship that bordered on love, Lisa hadn’t exploited Marcelle, nor had the French girl taken advantage of Lisa. It had been the tenderest, most genuine form of friendship, and whatever bitterness Lisa felt now was aimed not at Marcelle, but at her own confused sexual identity and needs Lisa was becoming something of a problem for Romo. He found himself worrying about her, identifying with her problems. It was an unhealthy state of affairs, and he knew it. Romo had always been aware of the need to avoid emotional involvement, no matter how casual, with GSI members. Personal counseling was one of the services which he offered, to be sure, hut he had no obligation to cure his members’ neuroses and he certainly didn’t accept any responsibility for whatever sexual failures his clients might suffer during their tenure in GSI.

Romo wondered about Lisa’s relationship with Jan. He knew Jan; he knew the blonde well. There was something about Jan’s personality that cried, “Hurt me!” She needed to be dominated. She required a sado-masochistic relationship-with herself on the receiving end. Yet she needed genuine love or at least affection, as well. The person who hurt her one day would have to assuage her feelings with kind words and delicate caresses the next.

How long would Lisa’s relationship with Jan last? Romo wasn’t worried about Jan; if she were to lose Lisa, she would soon find a partner to replace the petite brunette. She would try to become closer to her current “keeper,” the divorcee; or she would find a new friend within the group. But if the converse occurred, if Jan dropped Lisa, Lisa would no doubt be in for a nasty surprise. Would the brunette be able to adapt? Would she be able to survive the shock, the hurt, to find a new female lover within a reasonable period of time or readjust her thinking to accept a suitable male partner?

Romo didn’t know. He did know that he shouldn’t care, involvement is weakness, he warned himself in a silent rebuke. Like all men, however, Rome had his weaknesses. Just how serious this current weakness could be was something that only time would tell.

Lisa had left at one o’clock, after they had showered together and exchanged a bare minimum of conversation during lunch. Romo spent the next hour checking his books. He reminded himself to phone his accountant. He wanted to double check a few of the “facts” in the occupational cover story which he and the accountant used in filing his income tax. (Romo was not one to ignore the IRS; what with his sex operation, he was running legal risks already.)

He gave some thought to what he had suggested to Lisa-the idea of having her ball with a number of males in the hope that the shock treatment of sorts might give her a few insights into the deficiencies of lesbianism. Now that he considered the idea more carefully, he realized it wouldn’t work, Not yet, anyway. In time, she might be ready for such an experiment-soon, in fact, if he could get her to give it awhirl on a voluntary basis, But to force her into it, to work her to a high pitch of desire and have some stud step in for a quick fuck with her, would do more harm than good. Perhaps he should screw her again himself, Romo considered. If he could prove to her that she could enjoy orgasms in two consecutive heterosexual bouts, he might be able to talk her into examining the possibilities. Romo would have to come up with some suitable candidates, with some meal who were masculine enough, yet understanding enough to look out for her orgasmic interests and thus lead her to a cure.

“cure”? Romo smiled. By puffing down lesbianism, he was making a moral judgment. But what the’ hell, wasn’t that his privilege? In the incestuous world of the Group for Sensual Involvement, Romo was an omniscient and omnipotent God.

The next scheduled group meeting was for eight o’clock, and Romo reviewed his appointment book. Most of the participants were to be married couples who were seeking liberation from their tired, unvaried sex lives by switching mates in an atmosphere of depravity tempered with a “group therapy” let’s-let-it-all-hang-out approach. Romo always enjoyed the sessions. They were entertaining, just like a good Western movie. There were the bad guys, and the good guys. You could root for either side or both. There was violence, physical and verbal; and in the end someone always got his or her just desserts.

People began showing up at seven-forty-five. Romo grinned as he greeted his guests at the door. There weren’t many stragglers in the world of communal sex. People who would have been a half-hour late for a theatre curtain were invariably punctual when it was time to witness or take part in a juicy, public fuck.

By five past eight everyone was seated in the Discussion Room, a windowless room some twenty-by-twenty feet in size and without furniture. It was a comfortable room, however, by virtue of the three inches of foam padding that lay under the fake, fur-carpeted floor.

“It’s like sitting on a polar bear,” one newly initiated member giggled, as she dug her fingers into the soft white fuzz.

“Yeah,” her husband said. “Except you won’t catch fleas and it doesn’t bite.”

Romo was naked, as were his clients. There were eleven of them altogether; five married couples and one middle-aged male voyeur who had come along for the ride. “We’ll start with a few comments on our last meeting,” Romo said, consulting his notes. “At our last session, Mr. and Mrs. Schmeling discussed several aspects of impotence. Nora pointed to Max’s prick and suggested that it was going limp on her because Max had, in her words, been “sleeping around.” Max denied the charge, claiming that the cause of his impotence was twofold: nervous exhaustion stemming from difficulties at work, and a feeling of inadequacy on Nora’s jokes about his small cock. I read a passage from Masters and Johnson which refuted the myth of large cock supremacy, and Nora promised to refrain from such jibes in the future. Max agreed to limit his overtime to three hours per week and to temporarily give up his hopes for a more prestigious position within the company. Max and Nora were then encouraged to fuck during the meeting, but Max was unable to get it up. Elvira-Mrs. Hennessey-came forward and described how her husband had once, had the same problem and how several techniques that she had learned had helped. She proceeded to fellate Max while toying with his nipples, and in due course the two of them fucked with Nora and the rest of us looking on.”

Romo closed his notebook and turned to Non Schmeling. “Tell me, Nora-you saw your husband penetrate and achieve mutual orgasm with Elvira Hennessey. Just what were your feelings at the time?”

Nora, a slightly fleshy platinum blonde of about thirty-five, looked down at her knees and flushed. “I was jealous,” she confessed. “I know it was immature of me, but-“

“You were jealous?” Romo nodded as if her answer had confirmed some suspicion. “Why were you jealous, Nora?”

The woman shrugged, then looked up. “Why shouldn’t I have been jealous? My husband was fucking another woman. It was just like the things I’ve been accusing him of all along-he was sleeping around.”

“I wasn’t sleeping around, I was getting help,” Max countered, angered by the charge. “Anyway, what do you think we come to these meetings for? Didn’t we agree that we’d come here for sex?”

Romo decided he’d better interrupt before the argument turned into a full-fledged marital tiff. “Nora’s reaction was perfectly normal, even if it wasn’t justified by the circumstances,” Romo said. “As for Max’s fucking Elvira, didn’t it accomplish what it was supposed to do? He was able to maintain an erection through a lengthy blow job and an equally extended act of screwing. He brought Elvira to climax and enjoyed a healthy orgasm himself. I don’t think he should be put down for living up to his potential as a man.”

Nora sighed. “I know,” she said. “And…”

“Yes?” Romo spoke in a kindly tone.

“We did it three times since the last meeting. Twice it wasn’t much, but at least he got it in. But the third time, the day before yesterday, well… ” Nora giggled self-consciously, “Can I tell them, Max?”

“Sure,” he said, obviously eager for her to announce the good news.

“He did a real nice job, folks. He fucked me real good. I came, for the first time since before we had the kids. And then we talked about masturbation, and we agreed that I could do it whenever I had to after we made love, if we fucked and it wasn’t so good, I mean, And…”

“Then you shouldn’t have been jealous, isn’t that so?” Romo asked.

She blushed, still smiling. “I guess not.”

“Very good.” Romo rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking, then turned to another couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Larsen. Welcome to the group. People, Sara and Mike Larsen came to me only two days ago to ask if they could join GSI. Mike is in the Laundromat franchise business, and Sara makes ceramics for the gift shop of an old folks’ home.” He glanced at Larsen and grinned. “Oh, yes-as you’ve probably noticed, Mike is exceptionally well hung.”

And so he was. The man’s cock was a good eight inches long in a flaccid state, and Romo could tell that his clients were eager to see how it would appear in erection.

“Mike dose have a problem,” Romo went on. “And it’s Sarah’s problem too, in a manner of speaking. Mike, would you like to tell us about it?”

Mike grinned nervously and glanced down at his large, sausage-like phallus. “Yeah, it’s like the man says. My cock is too big.”

Nervous laughter from the group. At least two of the men appeared to be jealous.

“What he means,” Sarah broke in, “is that we have a terrible time making love in most of the normal positions. Or the abnormal positions, come to think of it. Mikes’ prick is too large for my vagina, and my gynecologist says that surgery isn’t a practical answer to the problem at this time. It seems that I shouldn’t have my cunt altered, if that’s the word, until we’ve finished having children. Don’t ask me why; ask the doctor. Anyway, I keep reading that the vagina is an elastic instrument which will accommodate almost any size penis, but it simply isn’t so in my case. Mike is just too darned big for me, I guess. But I love him, even if he is a son-of-a-bitch,” Sarah laughed and gave her husband a poke in the ribs,

Romo took over. “I asked the Larsens’ to demonstrate their difficulties in my office, and we began with Mike trying to fuck Sarah in the missionary position. Sarah winced throughout the act; her cunt simply wouldn’t shape itself around Mike’s rather unusual organ. Next, I had Sarah lie on top-stretched out, kneeling, squatting, and several other variations of the female dominant position. The results were moderately successful, but Sarah kept complaining of discomfort whenever Mike got overeager and began to lift his hips off the bed. After that, I had them screw in the side-by-side, rear-entry position, which seemed to lessen the problem of Mike’s slamming against the rear wall of Sarah’s vagina but which, according to Sarah, interfered with the intimacy of love making. Indeed, it interfered sufficiently to derive her of almost all pleasurable sensation.

“I suggested that they come to tonight’s meeting with a view toward exchanging partners. No doubt some of you ladies have larger or more elastic cunts than Sarah; girls, Mike awaits your pleasure! And I’m sure there’s some fellow among you who’d be willing to take a crack at Sarah’s tight-walled pussy. Do I any volunteers?”

Several of the men looked at their wives, and one woman-a young redhead named Emma Janovitz-nodded in the direction of Sarah Larsen. “Go on, Phil,” she told him firmly “Go up there and show your stuff.”

“But, Emma-“

“Don’t worry about me, lover. I’ll be busy with Logjam up there.” She got to her feet and headed for Mike, whose penis swelled ever so slightly as she approached. Her husband started to get up, but Romo held up a hand, traffic-cop style, and shook his head.

“One at a lime,” he insisted. “Emma, we’ll let you make it with Mike while the others look on. When you two have finished, Phil and Sarah can give it a try. Places, everybody.”

Emma grinned up at the tall, strapping Mike, totally free from self-consciousness as she reached out and rested two fingers on the shaft of his slowly expanding cock. “Any way you want it,” she told him. “You on top, me on top, in the mouth or dog style…!”

Mike shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the attention. “I’ll let you decide.”

Romo took control once again. “For the sake of the group’s ability to observe what’s happening, why don’t you try it with Emma on her back, legs over Mike’s shoulders? This should be good for Mike-he’ll be able to slam away at will without worrying about excessively deep penetration-and you, Emma, will have control over how deep you want him to thrust, The position will be nice from the group’s viewpoint since we’ll be able to see better what’s going on.”

Emma shrugged. “I’m game.”

Mike scratched his nose. “I’m Mike.” He laughed, proud of own joke.

Christ, Romo thought, a real card. The joker, no less.

“Okay, you two, on the floor. Emma, I want you on your back, legs well apart. Get your knees up so you can throw your legs over Mike’s shoulders when he’s in position. Mike? Kneel. Get ready, Emma. No, Mike, not stretched out like that, but kneeling. Back straighter. Come to think of it, you’d better put your knees farther back so you’re sort of hall-stretched out. Hmmm… Knees a little more forward, Mike, and-there, that’s fine. Emma? You can put your legs up now?” Romo glanced at Sarah, who was biting her lip as she looked on. “Take it easy, Sarah. You two made this decision for yourselves. Keep an eye on this, please; you may want to try it for yourself.”

Romo returned his gaze to the soon-to-be-fucking couple. Emma had draped her knees over Mike’s shoulders and was grinning as she looked between her thighs at Mike’s semirigid cock. The prick was a masterpiece of anatomical art, a full ten inches in length by perhaps two and a half in-diameter.

“You’ll never get that big thing in you,” Emma’s husband scoffed, somewhat unhappily, from the sidelines.

Emma only laughed. “Keep your fingers crossed, honey. When this guy’s finished with me, I may be so loose that I’ll need a horse to keep me happy.”

The word horse! reminded Romo that he had better -seize the reins again. “Quiet, everyone. Mike, grasp your cock in the middle and rest the head in Emmas’ slit. Ah, that’s fine. You know, I’d like to take a picture of this. Do either of you mind?” Before Mike or Emma could think of an answer, Romo produced a 35 mm camera with electronic flash which had been hidden inside the podium. He snapped several quick close-ups of the monster cock arching into the oozing vaginal vestibule, then returned the camera to the podium. “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “Let’s get this show on the road. Emma, I want you I to reach down and touch the cock. From below. Try reaching under your right leg-yeah, that’s the way-and touch it just below the head, near where it’s sticking into your body. Careful, don’t dislodge it Mike, your cock doesn’t stiffen up too quickly, does it? Don’t feel guilty; everyone reacts that way at first. Most men aren’t used to fucking in front of a group. That’s our puritan heritage for you. Emma, tickle it can you feel that, Mike? Do you like it, huh? Don’t be afraid to tell her if she’s doing anything wrong. If you want her to touch you higher or lower, if you want her-to pinch your balls or stick a finger in your ass, by all means say so. This is a liberated environment. The Group for Sensual Involvement, remember that. Is it all right? Mike? Is… “

“Maybe she could squeeze my balls,” Mike said reluctantly. Romo chuckled out loud; he could tell that the man was about to go limp with embarrassment.

“You heard him, Emma. Squeeze his balls.” Mike smiled as the woman complied with Romo’s order, then winced when she squeezed too hard. “Hey!” he cried.

Eamo shook his head. “A little more delicately, please. Surely you’ve squeezed your husband’s testicles before. You should know better than to-“

Emma’s spouse laughed harshly from the sidelines. “She squeezed them a hell of a lot harder than that,” he said. “You might say that we have a sado-masoch-istic relationship.” He coughed. “With me playing the victim.”

“Be that as it may,” Romo said to the woman, “you’re the one who’s supposed to get fucked this time. Caress them lightly Emma. Try tickling Mike by playing with the hairs-“

“Christ,” Mike muttered, his voice dissolving into a sigh.

Romo laughed. “I see it’s working. Now, Mike, I want you to make things nice for Emma, too. You might try working, your hand between your bodies to her clit where-“

Emma interrupted. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “I like it just the way it is.”

Mike was thrusting lightly into the woman’s vestibule, his eyes closed and his face turning a deep shade of red. “Goddamn, I think I’m going to get a real piece of ass,” he murmured.

“Don’t forget,” Romo cautioned, “that I want this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you. Mike, I don’t want you to enjoy yourself at the expense of Emma. If you make Emma go away angry, or for that matter aching, your wife isn’t going to be too turned on to the idea of taking that big cock of yours into her pussy. As for you, Emma, don’t start acting possessive. You two are fucking, and that’s all. This isn’t some kind of love affair. I’ve seen you becoming emotionally involved with your partners before, and in GSI that sort of thing is forbidden. Forbidden, is that clear?” His voice was harsh, and Emma nodded silently in acknowledgement of the implied threat.

Romo continued. “Remember, this isn’t a goddamn wife-swapping party. This is a group training session-an opportunity for each couple to expand mutual and individual horizons in the wonderful world of sex. There shouldn’t be guilt, but there shouldn’t be betrayal either. You’re not committing adultery tonight; you’re committing an act of self-education, an act of increasing you and your spouse’s mutual self-awareness.” Romo suddenly laughed as he saw Mike’s trembling jaw. “Sorry, Mike. I shouldn’t have strayed from the subject at hand. Go to it-slowly, now; I don’t want you to hurt her. Silence, everyone. I want us to hear him going in.”

The room was quiet as Mike inhaled deeply and prepared to push past Emma’s vaginal sphincter. The ten-inch cock seemed almost threatening as its monstrous knob rested in the spread inner lips of Emma’s cunt. “Are you ready?” Mike asked in a rasping whisper.

Emma nodded. “Yes.” Her voice choked.

Mike uttered something which no one could hear, then took another deep breath and slowly pushed forward. Emma stiffened as the cock head pushed against her membranes; her cunt was loose, but not that loose. “God, you’re a monster!” she said to him, her little laugh tinged with fear.

Mike moved forward another quarter of an inch. Romo lay nearby, stretched out on his stomach so he could see all. The other group members were looking on with similar eagerness, and Romo hoped Mike wouldn’t be distracted by all the attention that was being focused on his massive prick.

“Ah!… Oooh.” Emma jerked, then relaxed as the cock head squeezed past the ringlike sphincter of her vaginal opening. She kept her eyes tightly closed as Mike continued to push forward slowly; her jaw suddenly went slack, spittle trickling out of one corner of her mouth, as another inch and a half of stiff phallus went into her hole.

Romo began to give instructions softly, tonelessly, speaking as quietly as possible so as not to interfere with the squishing and schlupping of Mike’s cock in Emma’s juicy hole. “Relax your thighs, Emma,” he said. “You seem to be resisting. You’re only making things harder for yourself. Relax those thigh muscles, get your knees farther apart so they’re just barely balancing on the edges of Mike’s shoulders… Very nice, Emma. Mike, don’t he so cautious. You’re inside; you can use a little less discretion now. Emma’s got her legs over your shoulders, and she’s got her hands on your neck-I warned you not to lean forward so far! Anyway, she’s got control. Farther in now. Think of it-a vagina designed for your fantastic cock. Pretend she’s Sarah, if that makes you feel less uptight. One day Sarah’s cunt will he like that, once she’s had her babies and The doctor… ” Romo’s voice trailed off as he felt his own prick stiffening at the sigh of Mike’s huge organ glistening with its coating of vaginal juices. Mustn’t get too turned on, he warned himself. Got to maintain professional detachment.

Romo continued to give suggestions as he and his clients watched Mike and Emma fuck. He felt a tightening of his gut and a thickening of his throat I membranes as he saw Emma begin to writhe eagerly, her cunt lips fluttering against the thick cock’s shaft and heard her occasional fart of desire and gratitude. He tried to shut out the steady slap-slap-slap of flesh against flesh, the heavy odor of cunt juice and perspiration. He tried to remain detached, to keep his own needs under control, to think of what was happening in front of him in the role of a guide and counselor, not as a voyeur…

“Holy-fucking-shit-I’m-coming!” Mike suddenly groaned, his sentence pouring out in a single, breathless burst. His buttocks tightened, his thighs trembled, and he cried out again as the first dollop of semen shot into Emma’s wailing hole. Romo and his fellow spectators could see the five-inch protruding portion of Mike’s cock thicken, then contract as each squirt load of jism spewed through it. Goddamn, Romo thought, if I had the right camera this would make a fantastic movie…

Romo tried to keep his eyes off Emma’s gaping twat after Mike had pulled out, but of course he couldn’t. He found himself staring at the juice-dripping crack, at the generous hole that was already leaking semen; his eyes flicked over to Mike’s cock, which was rapidly softening into a curved length of glistening meat and which was spinning a spiderlike thread of jism from its red-slashed tip.

“Very nice,” Romo managed to tell them, hoping his erection would die down before he had to roll out of his prone position. “We’ll take Sarah and Phil next, if they’re willing. Sarah-“

Sarah Larsen was blushing. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Go ahead, baby,” Mike gasped as he crawled over to her. “You deserve a good fucking. One that won’t hurt you.”

Sarah reluctantly glanced at Phil, whose average-size prick was already turning into a hard-on. “I don’t how-“

“Go on,” Mike insisted.

Romo glanced at his watch. His erection was as powerful as ever, and the tingling of his cock had disappeared-to be replaced by a dull, steady ache.

“Let’s get a move on,” he said wearily. Christ, he thought, this is going to be a hell of a long evening…


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