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It was educational, right enough, because when I didn't understand what was going on, Miss Charlotte explained it all most carefully. Among other things, I found out, after all, how women can do it to one another; not to mention the things that men do together, and how groups of both men and women and boys and girls can enjoy themselves in strange fashions. But I still couldn't believe - and I told Miss Charlotte so, too - in some of those postures as depicted in that book. In fact, I told her, you'd have to be as limber as a snake to fuck like that. Which made her laugh.
The dirty book got us through the day, but that afternoon Miss Sally got a terrible surprise, because I didn't last but about half a minute. It made her mad, too, but I couldn't tell her the reason for it; Miss charlotte had sworn me to secrecy about our artistic project.
But looking at pictures of people doing it, or even just pictures of naked women, never did do a whole lot for me. I never had even taken much interest in the fuck books - Maggie and Jiggs, Popeye and Olive Oyl, and so on - that always circulated in school at such high price.
So the very next day, our fourth morning at work, He come out stubborn again. For the first time, too, Miss Charlotte wanted to work in clay, which is, of its nature, a slower process than sketching in charcoal, and she got so impatient and upset I thought she was going to explode.
Her nice hand would get Him to standing pose, all right; but by the time she'd start thumping at the lump of clay with her fists, He'd droop again. Which caused her to speak cuss words. I tell you, it was something else to hear that lady curse in her elegant, clipped voice; she put thought into it, and imagination; and then finally she slapped down the handful of wet clay and came over to me.
With a sudden quick gesture, she knelt down and put her mouth on Him. Oh, my, that was something else! That was what He had been looking for! He throbbed up to full size, just as ready as ever in His lifetime, and when she went smiling back to her work stand, He held it for a good thirty minutes.
But the next time . . . well, it wasn't my fault, I don't believe. Of course, He did falter after that long while. This time she didn't hesitate, but came over, wiping her hands, to take the head gently between her lips, doing Him so lovingly it was just real nice, that's all, and He was throbbing and jumping all over again. But then, getting too experimental, she raked the raw edge of her teeth over the tender head - and He shot it so quick she barely had time to get her head out of the way.
"Now you've ruined it!" she snapped furiously. "The whole morning's work just shot to hell. For god's sake, boy, you must learn to control yourself."
"Well, you're being pretty mean to Him," I said, as mad as she was with me. "You just ain't treating Him right, Miss Charlotte. So what do you expect?"
She checked her anger. "What do you mean?"
"You just can't do Him no such a way," I told her. "You expect Him to stand ready for hours at a time, and yet you don't offer Him nothing for all His hard work. If He can't feel there's something good in the offing, why should He do your bidding?"
I shook my head at her. "No, sir, ma'am. You don't understand Him, not the least little bit. How can you expect to make such a great thing of Him as you say you're going to do, when you don't know how He looks on life?"
She sighed. "You're right, boy." She studied me seriously. "You see, I haven't had anything to do with a man's cock for so many years." She was suddenly depressed. "Maybe I'm not the person meant to do this work. Maybe it's not in me . . ."
"You can do it, Miss Charlotte," I said urgently. "You've just got to be patient, that's all, you've just got to learn His good times and His bad times. You've got to give him the house room he deserves."
She sighed again. "I'll try. I'll try." She put one hand on the unfinished model she had been working at, mashed it into a shapeless lump that was nothing but clay. "We'll try again tomorrow."
"Now, there you go," I said. "Sometimes I think you don't want to understand Him."
She turned quickly toward me. "What do you mean? He just lost it, didn't He? He can't possibly . . ."
"You just come over here and do that nice thing again and see what he can do." I spoke with all the confidence in the world. "You'll see what I'm talking about. Why, Miss charlotte, you've done woke Him up for good, giving Him a whole new interest in life."
She stared into my eyes. She came close, put her right hand under His head, gazed upon Him. He perked up, stirring in her palm with His own life, which she smiled to see. Then, very carefully, very gently, she kissed Him, putting the tip of her tongue into His eye to taste Him. He was nearly there already, just with the notion that in the next minute she was going to swallow Him whole.
She meant to do it. But first, making a bellows of her cheeks, she blew her warm breath on Him, until when she did take Him whole He was at a fuller stand than she had ever seen before.
So we worked happily the rest of the morning, and she got down a free-standing model of Him that seemed to satisfy her, at least to some extent.
When she wiped her hands and said she was finished for the day, I stepped off the pedestal to put on my clothes.
"Wait a minute," she said. "Are you seeing one of your ladies this afternoon?"
"No, ma'am, I reckon not," I said.
She stood looking at me for a minute. "Then go over there and lie down on that daybed," she said. "I intend to let Him know there are rewards for all His labor."
Oh, He heard the news. I hadn't realized that He had yearned to get inside of Miss Charlotte. Hadn't really thought about it, to tell the truth, since she had told me all about how she liked women as well as I did. But of course He had kept his own notions, and He meant to do her proud.
However, Miss Charlotte had something else in mind. Without taking off her clothes, she laid herself down between my legs and treated Him for about ten minutes to the best blow-job it had ever been His fortune to enjoy. She just put Mr. William in the shade in that department, though maybe that was because she was a woman after all, even if a lesbian, and I had always felt a mite uneasy about putting Him in the mouth of a man, nice as Mr. William was about it all; though nearly every time getting so excited he'd end up hurting Him a little, in spite of everything.
Miss Charlotte didn't get excited. But she made a fine job of it, I can tell you. And when it come to the end, she didn't back off, either, but took it most nicely, and stayed with Him in the afterpart when it's just the best of all. Then she snuggled her cheek into my crotch and laid so for a while, breathing deeply and saying, "You smell so nice. Did you know that you have a nice wonderful clean smell?"
She was sort of whispering the words, so they didn't need no answer. We laid so for some minutes, at peace with ourselves and at peace with Him.
Finally she got to her feet with her usual briskness. "This is all very pleasant, but you told me things today I must think about." She paused to look at me most thoughtfully. "I think I'll call Vi tonight, tell her to come on down and join me right away. I think . . . I think we need Vi to help us do the great thing we've set out to do."
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