Chapter 10

It had been three weeks since Lisa had disappeared so mysteriously. Romo still wasn’t sure if he was sorry that she’d walked out on him so suddenly. He wondered why she had done it.

Granted, there had been jealousy. He’d fucked Tess in front of her, and that was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. Still, her departure was surprising. He hadn’t expected it. She had seemed too attached to him somehow. She had come to him repeatedly, despite her professed lesbianism, hoping each time to benefit from his advice.

Had she gone to live with Jan? Apparently not. When he called, the blonde and asked if she’d seen, Lisa, the girl seemed as ignorant as he. Granted, Jan could have been lying to him. But she seemed straightforward enough on the phone, and Romo had a talent for seeing through walls of untruth.

Where was Lisa? He didn’t know. Nor was he sure that he wanted to find Out. He couldn’t be expected to accept responsibility for her behavior as long as her whereabouts were unknown.

Click-click again in his brain, and he was once again remembering. Remembering lawyers, judges, witnesses… and a nightmare of a prison in Pennsylvania.

In the end, Donna, the twelve-year-old, had refused to testify against him. He thought he’d go free, but there was a surprise in store for him. It was called the Mann Act. Romo, confused, didn’t understand.

“It’s simple enough,” said the public defender, sighing resignedly. “The Feds are saying you took her over the state line for sexual purposes.”

Romo didn’t believe him. “We didn’t cross any state line,” he insisted.

“Just how far is the state line from your apartment, and from the Sears parking lot?”

Romo thought about it for a moment. “Two or three miles at the closest point.”

The lawyer smiled sadly. “There you are.”

“But we didn’t cross it, I tell you!”

“The U.S. Attorney is saying that you drove her across the state line, tried to get her to make love to you there, and that you managed to force her into heavy petting before returning to your apartment where you had sex.”

“It isn’t true.”

“You don’t understand,” the lawyer said. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not. They’ve got witnesses.”

“What witnesses?”

“A gas station attendant… A motel operator who says you tried to get a room in her motor court across the state line.”

“But why would they lie?” Romo asked, confused and angry.

“Why not? You’re a certified sex maniac. Certified by the newspapers if not by a judge and jury. The cops can’t get the girl to testify, God knows why-maybe her parents are afraid we’ll tear her apart in court-but the Feds can find witnesses to say you took her into the next state. They can get you on the Mann Act even if they can’t get you for assault or statutory rape.”

And so Romo went to trial, and his lawyer didn’t seem very surprised when he was convicted. They got him on the Mann Act and on a variety of lesser Federal charges. Romo ended up in Lewisburg, a medium-security prison in Pennsylvania. And there…

“Fuck your own asshole!” he told the lifer who tried to press against the seat of his pants as the two of them worked in the bakery. The older man produced a handmade knife and stuck it under Romo’s chin, digging the point into Romo’s Adam’s apple. “No,” Romo choked. He had never made it with a man before, and he wasn’t about to lose his anal virginity at twenty-two years of age.

But the lifer proved too strong for him, as did the threat of the knife. Romo found himself bending over, his trousers around his ankles as the older man held the knife blade against his balls from behind. And when the lifer spat on his hands and smeared the saliva over his prick and placed the cock head in the crack of Romo’s ass and pushed forward until Romo bit his lower lip with pain and felt his asshole being stretched taut by the penetrating cock.

“I can’t take it,” Romo groaned.

The rapist laughed. “You’re taking it very well, son.”

Romo thought of Donna, of her twelve-year-old body covered with bruises and welts. Suddenly he believed in God, and in the mercilessness of His revenge…

Being fucked in the ass wasn’t the worst part of being in prison, not at all. What was frightening was the fact that he learned to enjoy anal, intercourse with the other men. Eight years was, after all, an awfully long time. Romo learned to fuck, and to be fucked; he slept with scores of men during his incarceration, men who-had they been on the outside-would have condemned all ass fuckers as fags. It was funny how being in prison reshaped your moral outlook, at least temporarily. Masturbation was as accepted an act as urination, and rectal mounting wasn’t any more sinful-from the average prisoner’s viewpoint-than heterosexual fellatio and cunnilingus were to Mr. and Mrs. Middle West.

Romo was glad to get out, of course. And he was happy to be back in the company of women; he still preferred vaginas to assholes even after eight years.

It took him a while to readjust, to get used to massaging clits instead of cocks, to stroking his cock into an opening without rubbing spittle all over it first. He did get over his experiences in jail in the end; yet his thinking would always be colored by the fact that the Establishment had made him spend eight years behind bars.

“You’ve lost your right to vote,” someone told him once, saying it as though Romo should be weeping over his loss of civil rights. Romo, too cynical to believe in democracy, simply laughed.

“When you’re in the minority?’ he said, “a vote doesn’t mean much.” And he knew that he was right.

GSI was Romo’s salvation. The Group for Sensual Involvement-God, what a name! What a concept! What an opportunity for nonstop voyeurism and screwing! What the hell, he had to find some way of making up for those eight years. Not to mention getting back at the Establishment… What the hell, he liked to say, thinking of the authorities. J. Edgar Hoover, Richard Nixon, John Mitchell, fuck you!

Romo’s hand was inside the runaway’s panties. He was fingering the slick love lips, using his thumb to massage the clit.

“You’re tickling me,” Tess said with a giggle.

“Only tickling?” Romo began to strum the clit with two fingers, and Tess suddenly stiffened.

“Well…” The girl put her arms around Romo and pulled his face against her chest.

“Let me get this goddamn bra off you,” Romo said, struggling with the hooks.

“Not now!… Oh!” She cried out, not at all unhappily, when he pushed one of the brassiere cups up and bit into the breast.

They were stripped to the skin within a minute or so, and Romo grabbed Tess by the ears. “Blow me,” he said, his cock swelling as he spoke.

“Let’s just fuck,” she begged.

“Nope. I want you to blow me first.”

“Oh, Romo!… ” She didn’t really mind; it was all a game, and one they’d played before. With mock reluctance, Tess fell to her knees in front of him and took a good four inches of penis into her mouth, slobbering on it as she tightened her lips around the shaft. She sucked, licked, nibbled; Romo groaned, gasped, shuddered. All in all, it was a very nice beginning.

“Play with my balls,” Romo told her. He closed his eyes and smiled as the girl obediently took his low hanging testicles in her right hand and kneaded them gently, using her fingernails to tickle the wrinkled skin as she massaged the egg-like objects within the sac. He felt her other hand borne up to tug at the hairs playfully; the fingers then slid back along the perineum to his asshole, where she picked out bits of lint.

“Put your finger in my… ” He laughed. She knew what he meant without being told in detail. He looked down at her. He thought he could detect a grin at the corners of her cock-stretched mouth.

“Mmmmm,” she said. Romo moved his feet apart He stiffened in anticipation as her finger worked its way into the vestibule of his anus.

“Now,” he muttered, closing his eyes again and loosening the anal sphincter as best he could. He found himself thinking of prison again, of being fucked by the lifer and three other inmates, as Tess’ finger disappeared into his ass…

There were four of them altogether. The lifer was holding him by his right wrist; a Mexican named Manuel had him by the left. There was a black man, a beefy character with a William Warfield voice, holding him by the left ankle so he couldn’t flop around. And Constantin, sweet; muscular Constantin, was sliding to and fro in the hole between Romo’s thighs.

“Christ,” Romo groaned, feigning discomfort but enjoying the fuck as he hadn’t enjoyed a prison sex act in a long time. Constantin’s cock was just the right size-long, but thin, eight inches of stiffness to push the shit back into Romo’s guts without tearing his rectum in the process.

Romo’s cock was pressed against the cold concrete floor. It was hard. He didn’t want the others to know it, didn’t want them to laugh in the knowledge that he was turned on by this phony rape scene, but he couldn’t help himself. He began to move his hips back and forth, his cook rubbing against the concrete, the delicate and sensitive nerves just below the knob savoring the contact of skin and manmade stone.

The others were laughing at now. Rich laughs, belly laughs, uproarious har-har-har reactions to Romo’s unwitting confession of sexual need. He tried to stop, but he couldn’t; he kept on rubbing, kept on scraping his cook against the concrete, harder and harder and faster and faster, keying each thrust to the quickening movements of Constantin’s cock in his ass.

I’m coming, he thought And he was. All over the place-rich canals of white jism forming on the concrete floor.

They laughed at him when he rolled over. One of the men bent down and stuck a finger in the semen, then smeared it on Romo’s forehead. “Fuck you,” he said. And he did, a few minutes later. That was the nice thing about having friends like these. You got to have it both ways…

“Eat me,” Tess said, grinning as she wiped his jism from the edges of her mouth.

“Yeah, sure.” Romo, his cock soft and his body weakened from the climax, got down on his hands and knees and waited for her to spread her legs. He looked at the girl’s crotch, at the glistening lips with the trickle of juice that was emerging from between them, and he felt happy, so happy that he wanted to cry out. He restrained himself, however, contenting himself with a good taste of Tess’s cunt.

“Eat it nicely,” Tess giggled. “Make it a real seven course dinner.”

Romo smiled. “How could I possibly resist? You truffle, me gourmet.”

“Romo?” The voice on the phone sounded familiar.

“God, Lisa!” His guts did a quick jerk.

“I was afraid to call you.”

“Why?”

There was a pause as the girl gathered her thoughts. “I don’t know.”

“You never know anything,” he said, laughing. “I know that I wasn’t too happy when you fucked that runaway in front of me.”

“Oh… Tess.” He felt a pang of sadness. “She left a month ago.”

“Really? How come?”

“She got homesick. Wanted to go back to her parents.”

“I’ll be…”

“Don’t be.”

“Huh?”

Romo laughed. “Look, just come around.”

“When?”

“Anytime at all,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Make it ten.”

“I’ll try.”

Romo hung up, feeling happier than he’d been since Tess had said her tearful, heartfelt good-bye.

He cancelled a GSI meeting so they could be together alone, for the entire evening. Not to mention the entire night.

“Romo?”

“Say it.”

She laughed. “What if you don’t like what I’m going to say?”

“Say it anyway.”

“All right. After I walked out on you, I went to a lesbian bar.”

“And?”

“And I let myself be picked up by a dyke.”

“Butch or femme?”

She smiled wryly. “Butch. Very butch. The Ferdinand the Bull type, you know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do.”

“We went to her apartment. She had this… this dildo kit.”

“With or without vibrator attachment?” He was grinning.

“Both kinds. And in different sizes-small, medium, and large.”

“You took the large, of course.”

“No.” She laughed. “It was even bigger than you.”

Romo faked a God-now-you’ve-hurt-my-feelings expression. “What the hell,” he asked. “Now you’ve got me competing with a goddamn machine?”

“Anyway, she wanted to use the dildoes on me.”

“Did she?”

“Oh, yes. She ate me first, and then she got out this big rubber dildo; it was a sort of light green, and she plugged it into the wall. It made a terrific noise, like one of those barbershop massagers, and then she… ” Lisa giggled. “Are you sure you want me to go on?”

“Co on, damn it.”

“Well, she stuck it in me.”

“And you liked it, of course.”

“Not at first. It hurt a lot, you know. She didn’t have much finesse, I’m afraid. Just got out this big rubber dildo and stuck it in me. It was gigantic, bigger than you’d ever believe.”

Romo attempted a smile. “You came in the end, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Lisa?”

“Yes?”

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” He prided himself on his ability to see through women’s tall stories.

Lisa surprised him when she shook her head and said no.

It was funny how things always went full circle. Life was a series of cycles; you had your good moments, then your bad ones, and then the good ones came along again. Like sunspots, or weather, or earthquakes: Everything was in cycles. It was funny, or at least weird.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he told Lisa at one in the morning, having wakened her from a sound sleep.

“Oh, shit… “

“Dog style.”

“Romo, goddamn it, I was sleeping!”

“Come on, damn it, onto your hands and knees.”

“I won’t, Romo. I was sleeping, and-“

“Onto your hands and knees, damn it!”

“Romo, I-” She sighed and gave in. Moving slowly, she pushed the covers back and crawled into position for the fuck. She was wearing one of his nightshirts- she’d’ borrowed it, she said, because her shoulders were cold-and now -she pulled it up over her hips so he could put his hands on her ass as he fucked her from behind.

“I’m not going to get you, ready,” he warned.

“Why not?”

“I want to see what you feel like dry.”

“Oh, God-“

“Spread your knees wider. Lean forward more.” He spoke sharply.

“Romo, for-“

“Let’s go.”

She sighed and obeyed. Romo grinned as he shoved his cock between her thighs, guided the knob of it into her pussy, and pushed it in as far as it would go. Lisa grimaced with pain, but she ended up moving with him, enjoying it more than he would have thought possible a few months earlier.

“It isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked as he fucked her slowly, almost in relaxation.

“No,” she answered, breathing deeply with each thrust.

“Do you want me to play with you? Touch your clit, tickle your asshole, or-“

“You can touch me,” she said.

Romo grinned. She was obviously talking about her clit. He moved his hand around her right hip, slid it between her thighs, felt around for her glistening cunt lips. He found them; they were stretched around his monster cock. He moved the fingertips upward, searching for the clit. He located it and began to stroke it slowly. “Tell me,” he said quietly, “how does it feel?”

She was breathing harder. “Fine.”

“Tell me if you like it like this.” He strummed the clit lightly, flipping the buried portion from side to side like a guitar string, his fingers moving back and forth against the juice-coated prepuce.

“It’s nice,” she gasped.

“And this…?” He pinched it lightly, just hard enough to make her twitch.

“God!”

“And this…?” He alternately pinched and strummed it, then began to make tiny rotary movements with the ball of his thumb.

His captured prick dove nobly in and out between the fat hillocks of her ass, sensing her delight at being brandished by his glutting, as she squirmed and let her body go frantic for him, sobbing out endearments trading juices now… doing it… holding back a little… ohhh… going under, losing altitude, as he now hammered and plundered in a fresh surge of concentration, his hips pounding and slapping against the moist, creamy flesh of her ass. Her yelling cries were mingling with her deep moans, and be felt her wriggle more fretfully, feeling her oil out at him as she grunted, “Oh… unnn… now!”

He shot his first thunderous load right up into the heart of her, splitting, spraying endless volleys of hot setting bursts that jammed the new flood of her comings that flushed the wet splattered velvet-tipped cock. The bed wheezed and raffled but the sound was muffled by her mad, hedonistic cries, “Ohhhh! Oh, God! I can’t help it, I’m coming! Coming… coming! Here… here’s the rest of it! Ahh! Unng! Unnnnnnccg!”

They clung in silence for long and sheltered moments, unbelieving, letting the cathedral hush of their swindling sighs dwindle away.

“I… I never thought…”

“I know, hon. I know…” he whispered.

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