The Adventures of Holly White and the Incredible Sex Machine (23 page)

And Nick bent Holly's head back, and uncapped the lipstick, which was such a dark
red that it was almost purple. She felt the soft touch of the lipstick drawing a
dark O around the glint of her teeth. Then he knelt again by her hips this time,
and reached towards the bright hair. Their visitor tutted.

‘Breasts first,' she said. ‘Open her chemise so that her chest is exposed. We want
dark red nipples. See that you colour them properly.'

It aroused Holly to be spoken of this way, as if she could neither hear nor reply.
She felt the cold air on her chest as Nick pushed her coat off her shoulders and
snapped the buttons open one by one. The bra was the same pale green lace as her
pants, and her dark nipples showed through clearly, pushing the fabric out like little
darts. Nick struggled with the clasp and Mary-Ann laughed at his ineptitude until
he finally moved around behind
her and roughly unclipped the hooks and eyes. Holly's
nipples were so hard they looked like little stones, pointing directly at Mary-Ann,
who took a few steps to get a closer look.

‘Her breasts are too large for her frame,' she said. ‘Look how they sway even when
she just moves her weight from one foot to the next. When they are reddened you could
bite them and the blood would not show.'

Nick touched the tip of one nipple with the lipstick then traced the edge of the
aureole. He carefully filled in the dark nipple till it was the colour of an open
artery and when he was done he moved to the other breast. Mary-Ann reached forward
as he did so. Weighed the first breast in the palm of her hand.

Nick knelt and pushed the hair aside again, exposing the bright flash of cunt. Holly
felt the coldness of the lipstick settle in the hot damp, the slow creep as it traced
the labia downwards then up the other side. Her juices slicked the vulva.

‘She is too wet,' Mary-Ann chided. ‘Mop that up with your sleeve.'

Nick took off his shirt and Holly felt him dab it between her legs. ‘When you fuck
this girl, do you find she is too wet?'

Nick shook his head.

‘No? Doesn't your cock slip into her too easily?'

Again a shake of dissent.

‘Well, rouge her quickly or we will both be blinded. I am going to climb up into
your bed now. You must carry her and lie her down beside me. You must test us, one
at a time, taking your cock and putting it in her cunt hole and then mine. You will
feel the difference when you enter these orifices one after another. You will see
how that wetness makes it too easy for you. Mine will be a labour. A sweet labour,'
Mary-Ann smiled
coldly, ‘and well worthwhile. Hurry and paint her cunt. You will
see.'

‘Who will you pick?' Mary-Ann was unclothed now. Her small breasts pointed up towards
the top of the accumulator, back-lit by the light bulb which had been alight since
she bit down on Holly's breast. She had fingered Holy furiously and Holly had returned
the favour, dipping her head to suck on the little cock, tasting the fruity pre-come
which lingered on her upper palate and contrasting it with the delicate flavour of
cunt that seemed to inflame the tastebuds on the tip of her tongue.

Mary-Ann was lying now, her wet hand aromatic and still glowing, the scent of Holly's
vagina tangled in her hair. There were lipstick traces on Mary-Ann's fingers, her
mouth, her breasts. Holly's breast was damp from where the woman had demanded she
squeeze it between her fingers and insert the whole of it into Mary-Ann's wide pink-rimmed
slit. Holly squeezed Mary-Ann's cock and was rewarded by the arching of her back
as her cunt began to pulsate around Holly's breast. The cock swelling and spitting
out onto her hand.

Nick was red-faced from holding himself back, his cock thick and almost purple. Mary-Ann
lay beside Holly, pinching the girl's nipple between her fingers, demanding that
Nick thrust his sheathed cock into one slit after another. She made him take her
little cock into his mouth and suck the drying come off it before ordering him back
to the task of testing one vulva against the other.

‘Choose,' she said, the word a growl in her throat as yet another climax began to
build in her loins. ‘Choose one girl and shoot inside her now. Shoot in me.'

But Nick pulled at Holly's hips instead and lifted her, burying his hand in the bald
slick pussy of their companion and letting his well-lubricated cock slip easily into
Holly's arse. She felt its spasms and resisted, so soon after her most recent climax,
the urge to follow him in his pleasure, looking instead to the light bulb, which
was shining bright and steady. No final glare of impossible brightness, just a steady
angelic pulsing. Holly reached over to tweak at Mary-Ann's cock as Nick's fingers
still thrust inside and the woman came again, growling deep in her throat like a
cat winning a fight. The light at the top of the bed flared as if to signal the latest
orgasm. Holly stared at it in wonder. Perhaps this hermaphroditic woman was another
conduit for orgone. Holly circled Nick's hand with her fingers and felt the pulsing
contractions of the woman's cunt as she came around his hand. The light pulsed along
with the contractions, brighter now, and brighter.

‘Suck me,' Mary-Ann cried out, her voice a deep, rough rasp. ‘Suck me now!' and Holly
felt the pop and suck of the cock slipping out of her mid-thrust as she turned to
push her head onto the woman's little penis. It seemed bigger, suddenly, each pulse
seemed to extend it. And Holly saw the woman's hands reach out towards the still-twitching,
still-hard penis of her lover. Holly sucked her cock and watched the woman push Nick's
cock into her. Nick thrust again, again, again. She knew he was still expending the
last of his seed into this woman's slit and as if in sympathy the cock in her mouth
began to pump its second jet of pleasure, swelling now to a size that she might choke
on. She tried to hang on, to swallow, to suck, and just when she thought she could
take no more the woman reached out and slipped one finger into Holly's cunt, another
into her
arsehole so that Holly could feel the fingers touching through the sensitive
membrane of flesh between these passages. Mary-Ann's thumb pressed out and rubbed
against her clitoris and Holly opened her throat as the orgasm ripped through her,
swallowing the now-sizeable length of cock, milking the last of the juices with the
contractions of her throat.

The light exploded around them. Forced to shut her eyes against the glare, she gagged
and coughed and freed herself from the invading member, feeling the fingers slip
away from her own pulse of flesh. When she opened her eyes she was startled to see
Mary-Ann had transformed. A spray of bearded growth had pushed through the soft skin
of her cheeks. Her cock was a massive hang of meat between her legs, her pussy was
now hidden under a thicket of dark and wiry pubic hair. Mary-Ann still wore lipstick,
she still had the narrow waist of a girl and the petite breasts she had had before,
but her face and her genitals were now all man.

She screamed, touching her beard with sticky, flustered fingers, another of her French
obscenities. She leaped over the edge of the accumulator, landing heavily on the
floor, pulled her dress clumsily over her head and swept her shoes and handbag up
in her fist.

‘Wait!' Nick whispered, breathless, spent. ‘You don't have to go.' But she was gone.
The door slammed shut behind her. The sound of panicked footsteps echoed, diminishing,
on the staircase.

Nick looked stunned. ‘You saw the light?'

Holly nodded.

‘Mary-Ann was another channeller of orgone.'

‘Did you see her beard come through? Is that a thing? Have
you ever heard of that
happening to someone?'

Nick shook his head. ‘Quick, let's check the charge on the battery.' He almost ran
to the side of the bed and reached beneath it, dragging out the large and heavy black
box that he had spent a whole day assembling. He checked the dial on the front and
whistled. ‘That light. Did you see how bright it was? I hope no one could see it
from outside.'

‘The curtains were drawn.'

‘Yes, but they are cheap thin curtains, surely you would still be able to see it.'
He tapped the dials. Whistled. ‘Holly, my darling Holly,' he said, ‘I think we have
done it.' He kissed her full on the mouth, the taste of Mary-Ann's cunt and the dried
come from her cock causing their lips to stick momentarily.

‘You are,' he proclaimed, ‘incendiary.'

Again. She woke and turned. Again he paced between the window and the desk. Scribbling,
peering through the curtain. His leg was jiggling up and down. He was all insomnia
and anxiety.

‘Come to bed, Nick.'

‘Shhhh. Do you think they saw it?'

‘What?'

‘The light. Our light. Your light and Mary-Ann's.'

‘Who? Who would have seen it?'

‘You have no idea, Holly. You are an innocent.' He shook his head. ‘You have absolutely
no idea.'

Holly pulled the bed curtain across and turned away from him. ‘Come to bed soon.'

But he merely grunted once, and then there was the sound of his pen, scratching out
his notes.

She sat at his desk. The chair was too hard, high-backed, severe. She thought it
must hurt him terribly to sit here for hours poring over his notes. He had leather-bound
notebooks. She slid her fingers over the top one, soft as a woman's skin. The paper
was so fine that she lifted it and pressed her cheek to it. There was a certain smell
to the pages, binding-glue, ink. Age. The notebooks had initials embossed in the
soft leather. NB. Nicholson's initials. There were water stains on the pages, a yellowed
edge framing the diagrams. This one in particular looked like a relic. They all looked
old and sacred, of course, even though she knew he had been writing in one of the
notebooks no more than an hour before.

She could hear the steady rush of the shower, through the closed door, the sound
spurring her on. She always felt uncomfortable touching his notes when he was in
the room. He seemed so furtive when he worked, glancing up at the slightest sound,
flinching, slapping the cover shut. Nick let her look over his shoulder, but she
had noticed that he always closed his book when she perched on the desk beside him.

Now she eased the notebook open, flicked over to the last page. The diagram was a
series of interconnected pulses, like a tracing of soundwaves, energy pulsing from
point to point. At the centre of the page was a picture of a woman, her arms outstretched.
The vulva very detailed, each hair individually drawn. The lips slightly parted,
the labia minora exposed. It was a picture of her body, Holly knew it. The face was
a blank, but she recognised her own body. Stretched out, her own vagina at the centre,
drawn as the point at which the lines of energy intersected. It was an almost perfect
representation of her flesh. The picture reminded her of the sketches of Leonardo
da Vinci.
Too much like art to be science—and yet from his diagrams flying machines
had taken shape.

D.O.R:
the letters sketched beside wavy lines, hard-edged, angular. It looked like
the softer soundwaves were emanating from her body. Next to these flowing shapes
Nick had written the word
orgone
. The sharper lines seemed to be attacking the representation
of her body. The orgone energy waves defending it.
Danger from the D.O.R.s
was scribbled
there. And
Dangers: Alien/Government. We are under attack. MUST BE MORE CAUTIOUS,
this last underlined three times. She heard the sound of the shower turned suddenly
off and closed the notebook. She almost ran to climb back into the accumulator.

She had noticed before that reading in the accumulator affected the brightness of
the light. Whenever she lingered over the most erotic passages in her books the light
glowed more strongly. When she was reading less sexual paragraphs—the simple mechanics
of the plot, descriptions of people or places—the light dimmed to almost nothing
so that she had to squint to make out the words. The accumulator fed off sexual energy,
particularly Holly's own sexual energy. As soon as she climbed out of the tall-sided
box the light ceased to glow entirely.

Nick emerged from the bathroom damp-haired, wrapped in a large white bath-towel.
Holly peered over the edge of the bed and the light glowed just a little brighter.

‘Pleased to see me?' Nick grinned.

She watched as he unwrapped the towel from his waist and was treated to the pleasant
sight of his semi-erect penis. He shivered and pulled the towel close around his
shoulders, rubbing one end of it into his hair.

‘I've been wondering why I can power your accumulator,
me and Mary-Ann, when other
girls couldn't. I wonder if it is because you like me a little bit more. Enough to
light you up. The glow of love, perhaps?'

She watched as his cheeks flushed bright red. She liked it when she made him shy.
It filled her with a little rush of power. She knelt just a little bit higher in
the bed.

‘I would say that is a very unscientific observation, Holly. Dare I say romantic?'

‘Well it can't just be my…flesh. My body. I am human, just like every other girl.'

Nick stepped towards her, pulled the towel around his shoulders like a shawl and
rested his fingers on hers.

‘I have a very complex feeling for you, but I am afraid that has little to do with
the work. You saw the light you made using Mary-Ann for sex. Did that mean you loved
her?'

Holly relaxed back into the softness of the bed. Nick dropped the bath towel and
clambered in beside her. The bed smelled gloriously of sex and sleep. His skin was
fresh with the spicy tang of soap. She rested her head on his chest and breathed
an aromatic cocktail. The light glowed brighter. They both glanced up at it and smiled.