The Adventures of Holly White and the Incredible Sex Machine (20 page)

‘Nick,' she said, trying out the sound of his name. He moved his fingers to the side
of her throat, testing the vibrations of his name with his fingertips. ‘Nick. There
is something I probably should tell you.'

‘Tell me after,' he whispered, and then he murmured her name, aiming the breath of
the word right into her ear. She was filled with the sound of herself, stretched
tight as a balloon. Penetration, surely, would burst her. She reached out with her
fingertips to find his prick, but he twisted away from her and her fingers fell instead
on his clothed hip.

He leaned closer then and the soft touch of his fingers
tracked down across her neck
past the nape of her throat to trace the gentle swell of her breast. Her nipple responded,
reaching up like a single stretched finger to touch. The tiniest movement of his
hand seemed huge in the close dark.

‘Nick, I really have to tell you something. I have to tell you before we go any further.'

When O was first taken to Roissy she was told to remove her underwear. She experienced
the feel of the leather couch on her bare skin, a dramatic concentration of sensation.
Holly, deciding to follow in O's footsteps, was not wearing any knickers. The smell
of her was intense, the smell of desire. The smell of sex, with that faint overlay
of electrical burning. She felt Nick breathe in. His face still pressed to her ear,
his intake of breath seemed to empty her chest completely. When she breathed in he
exhaled and she was filled with the scent of his desire too. Barely touching, as
they were, they were so intimately and irretrievably connected.

‘I want you to look. Down. Between my legs,' she said, and Nick took these words
in as a sponge would suck liquid. He looked down at her crotch and she pulled her
dress up, revealing the glint of her kindled desire. His mouth opened as if he had
just been let into a room full of gold. His eyes sparkled, greedy. He reached down
with his finger and touched the glowing blue ember of her sex. He pressed his finger
to his brow, leaving a faint sparkling print in the centre of his head.

‘You are marvellous,' he said. ‘Truly awesome.'

Relief rushed out of her and joy surged in. Holly felt herself swelling up with it.
He wasn't afraid of her. Nick had seen her secret and he wasn't afraid. She moved
her hand across his hip, caressing. Coming to rest on the soft swelling at his groin.

‘I can't believe you still want to have sex with me.' The swelling began to firm
up under her fingers.

‘I have been searching for you since I was seven years old. I have been ready to
have you since I was thirteen. I am desperate for you now.'

‘I can see that.' Holly unzipped him. His cock leaped out, straining the soft cotton
of his underwear. She circled it with her fingers, found the vent in the fabric and
pushed his underwear back, assisting his penis to spring free. She pressed her hand
to her own slit, slippery as split fruit, bright as a star. She dipped her fingers
inside and the shimmering wetness soaked her fingers.

When she touched his cock again her fingers slipped down along the shaft, painting
it with luminous blue streaks like the Milky Way. His groan felt like a shriek, his
lips pressed to her earlobe. It was as if he had bitten her, the shock of his mouth,
the terrible amplification of his breath. He pressed his hand to her breast and her
nerve endings leaped.

She inched forward in the dark guided only by the light of her cunt until her breasts
rubbed at his chest, sharp through the layers of interfering clothes.

She leaned forward and he leaned back, she kissed him and their breath became twinned,
the air passing back and forth between them, the pace increasing as their excitement
grew. They were poised at the point of collapse, his cock straining towards the lodestar
of her cunt as if it were true north. The wet trembling drop at the edge of her labia
quivered above the head of his cock.

‘I have been waiting for you for so long, I had begun to wonder if you truly existed.'

‘I'm here,' she said.

He nodded.

‘I'm flesh,' she said. And plunged her hips down onto him. He tipped back. His head
thudded into a hillock of pillows as his hips thrust up into her.

Her body spread wide above him, her cunt spilled white hot onto his cock, the lips
pierced and parted, the guttural sound in her throat no more or less than the groaning
creak of flesh on flesh. Like a boat she lifted and settled, bobbing on a gentle
tide. She reached down to touch herself. Felt the hot swell of her clitoris, felt
his thick cock and her own stretched lips around it. She knew she should wait but
she couldn't. Holly flicked her finger over the seat of her passion. She felt the
crest of a wave coming, looked up in the lightless air and saw it approaching, a
wall of pleasure, huge and ineluctable, a bright wall of water. She could not run
from it. There was nowhere inside herself or on the bed to escape. She began to scream
or perhaps to whimper before the blaze of water hit her and the sound of the climax
was consumed in a sudden glare of blinding blue light. Not just her light, although
her cunt flooded with juices bright as a falling star. But there was something else,
a flash of something outside herself. She opened her eyes, startled, excited. The
light at the head of the bed was blazing brightly. It was brief and it was gone and
she was here now, limp and wrung out on the hard prong of him, defeated and triumphant
all at once, covered in sweat that she did not realise she had shed, thudding with
the last blood-filled pulsations of an orgasm she barely knew she had had. Still
clothed and yet slippery shiny from crotch to knee with her own emissions.

Nick seemed lit up even though the light from the bulb had
disappeared. It was all
darkness and yet he pulled her down and hugged her tightly and his own face was as
wet as if it had been buried in her sex. Perhaps he had been crying again. She kissed
his damp cheeks and they were salty with the receding memory of some oceanic upset.

‘The light came on,' he said, his voice choked with emotion and, yes, it seemed clear
to her now, tears.

Holly nodded. ‘I don't know why that happens. I always start to glow when I get turned
on. It's a bit embarrassing, to be honest.'

‘No no, not your light,
the
light. The light came on.' He said again. He pointed
to the bulb at the head of the bed. ‘Holly, you are the one.' Nick scrambled up and
over the high edge of the bed. He stood naked, staring over the edge of it, his eyes
wide with awe. ‘My god. Not Orgone Man at all. You are Orgone Woman.'

He dressed; offered her water straight from the tap and she took it, sipping carefully.
She really felt like wine. With the curtains open again she could see the light bulb
at the head of the bed. No fixture, just a naked glass sphere wired roughly to the
high edge of the bed. Instead of a cord there was a funnel of flexible plastic tucked
onto the base of the bulb and the tube disappeared into the wall of the bed.

‘But where's the electricity? There's no plug, no power point,' she said, remembering
the sudden external flare at the peak of orgasm. ‘How did it light up when there's
no electricity?'

Nick grinned. His eyes glistened. He seemed agitated, full of nervous energy, a kind
of excitement that was infectious.
Holly felt her heart racing as if she too was
on the edge of some life-changing discovery.

‘The light came on because it is powered by the bed, and the bed was powered by us.
You, actually, your energy.'

He ran his hand along the wooden surface and then knocked gently. The box sounded
solid enough.

‘This is put together with layers of synthetic materials. The wood attracts the energy
but then we have zinc, which repels it, wool, which attracts it once more and then
more zinc. The orgone is gathered up. It is accumulated. That is why this box is
called an orgone energy accumulator.' Nick tapped the side of the contraption as
if to prove its solidity. ‘The only thing missing is a proper lid. But can you imagine
if I brought girls back here and then pulled a lid shut on top of us? They'd call
the authorities. At the very least they'd talk about it to their friends and the
authorities would get wind of it anyway.'

He was pacing now. Holly sat as calmly as she could in the only chair in the room,
her elbows balanced on the cold surface of the desk.

‘I don't really understand what you're talking about,' she said.

‘You saw the light come on?'

‘I suppose so. I saw a flash of something.'

‘The light in your vulva,' he pointed, ‘that blue light, it is pure orgone energy.
There was enough orgone generated by your pleasure, Holly, to power that light. A
fraction of a second, but we both saw it. I have brought girls back here…Not as often
as I would have liked, but there have been a few.'

She watched as he frowned, thinking back over his conquests, judging his prowess
harshly.

He shook his head and shrugged. ‘You, Holly, are the only one who has generated any
orgone at all. You are unique among women. You are the source! I want to buy a bottle
of champagne to share with you, a celebration. But I am afraid that if I leave you
for a second you would disappear and your powers would be lost to me.'

Holly stared at him calmly. It excited her to see the effect she could have on a
man. She felt a smile break open. ‘If I were O and you were René, you would find
ways to keep me here.'

She stood and walked across to the bed. Rattled the frame, which seemed solid enough
to take any binding. Tapped on the wooden sides and heard the dull thud of all those
layers.

She hoisted herself over the edge of the bed and bounced gently on the soft mattress.
‘This really is the most extraordinary bed.'

‘Accumulator. Orgone energy accumulator. Wilhelm Reich outlined it all but the authorities…The
FDA burned all his books so that we wouldn't know the secret.' His animated features
became handsome with his growing excitement. ‘I have a single volume of the lost
notebooks, my father gave it to me. I am reconstructing the designs from scratch,
testing them, as any scientist must test their theories.'

Holly ran her hand along the thick wooden sides. ‘And you think this orgone is the
reason my cunt glows?'

‘Of course. Orgone is everywhere but it is over-abundant in that light in your sexual
parts. It is exactly the same as the stuff that makes your pleasure so intense. Did
you imagine that bucking and pulsing and gushing in your body was an accident? Orgone
is the single most powerful force in the universe.'

‘I powered your light?'

‘That was you. The intensity of the orgone channelled through your pleasure. Don't
you see? You are the one I have been looking for all these years. I smelled it the
moment I saw you. My father used to talk about a superhero, Orgone Man, capable of
focusing and gathering energy. I wish my father was alive now. He would be astounded
to know that his Orgone Man is actually an orgone woman.'

‘A superhero? Me? All because of a little flash of light?'

‘Of course. That little flash of light is just a tiny burst of power. Imagine if
this accumulator could trap the full force of every orgasm you had and store it like
a battery. We could light a whole city. A city powered completely by pleasure. It
would change our whole relationship to sex. And think of the environment! Global
warming? Fixed!'

‘But what if it can't be repeated?' She rested her fingers on the bulb at the head
of the bed, cold now and dark. ‘Isn't it true that scientists need to prove their
results by repeating their experiments a number of times?'

She could feel the soft brush of cotton against her bare bottom as she leaned back
against the high side of the bed.

He grinned. ‘I think we have depleted all the orgone in the accumulator. It takes
time to regenerate when it is spent.'

She moved forward, leaned against the side of the bed closest to where he stood.
She lifted her skirt, hidden now by the tall panel of wood. Her thighs were still
damp with her spilled juices, she slipped her fingers up to the cleft between them.
So slippery, her fingers played at the curls of dark hair there. Her cunt was warm
and open and it seemed impossible to stop her fingers from slipping inside. She stared
at Nick's trousers, noticed the shadow of the fabric peaking there.

‘I have time,' she said. ‘And by the look of you the orgone is beginning to accumulate
already.' She leaned against the side of the bed, slipped a second, then a third
finger into the slippery O of her vagina. She moaned a little, felt her eyelids growing
heavy, her nipples hardening against the wood.

‘What are you doing?'

She opened her eyes a fraction. The lump in his crotch was growing larger. ‘Take
off your pants,' she told him, surprised by the force behind her words.

‘Why? What are you doing to yourself behind there?'

‘Take off your pants and I'll tell you.'

She watched as he fumbled with his belt, unzipped his fly. The hard protrusion spilled
out immediately, hidden only by the flimsy cotton of his underwear. He hopped and
shuffled his way out of his pants. When he was free of them she nodded to his crotch
and he removed his underwear.

‘I've got three of my fingers inside myself.' She rewarded him with this information.
‘They are in right up to the knuckles. I'm so wet I can feel it dripping down my
hand.'

‘Really?'

She could see his hands trembling slightly as they hung uselessly at his side.

‘Look,' she said, removing her hand from her crotch and holding it out towards him.
The wet trail of juice spilled down over her wrist, glistening with that wonderful
light. As if she had dipped her hand into a fire and pulled it white hot out of the
furnace.