Oral Master

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

The thick, polished beams on the ceiling of the room were high. A mosquito left the center beam to fly down and settle on the left horn of the bull's head.

The nostrils of the black beast still glistened, and the brown eyes were fixed just right. The ink-black hairs still had a lifelike brilliance. And why not? Senor Pepe Benavidez was the best taxidermist in all Mexico, and he had done the stuffing and mounting personally, as a gesture of esteem for Memo Contera.

Now, Marta, still known as Madam s*x, watched the mosquito crawl slowly off the horn and onto the Miura's forehead.

She sat in a high-backed chair in the luxurious room, now and then fanning herself. August was almost over - it had been a brutally hot month, and she hoped September would be cooler.

She dropped the fan onto the oriental rug at her feet. The mosquito had left the Miura and had flown to her nose. She brushed it away, and the insect went straight back to the safer confines of the bull's head. Marta followed the mosquito's return with her eyes, and, as they focused on the impassive head on the wall, she shuddered a little.

"Please, God," she said, "let it be his last bull. Let there be no more."

She got up and opened the shuttered windows, letting the hot sun in. Rita Serrano, the Cuban girl whom she had hired for her specialty, was out in the courtyard with a man. She looked again and recognized the man as Memo Contera.

He was working out with cape and muleta, faithfully performing his toreo de salon, as he did each day.

Memo had recently told her, "Of course, I'm not thinking of fighting the bulls again. I am retired, no? But a man must keep in shape for other activities. I'm only thirty-one, and I've got plenty of time to grow old."

Marta Mendoza nodded and smiled just a little. She hoped Memo had finished with the ring forever. She wanted desperately to believe that after a dozen dangerous years in the ring, he would be happy to retire. He was still young, and very rich, and he had already achieved a degree of immortality. His name would go down with Joselito, Manolete, and Belmonte as one of the greatest bullfighters in all the world.

But she could not quite believe it. A year of retirement had changed him, and it disturbed her.

It was nothing she could put her finger on. Small things at first, the tone of his voice, the way he carried his head. But gradually, she'd seen his confidence give way to increasing periods of silence and brooding.

Only when he practiced in the courtyard of her establishment, with the scarlet cloth in his hands, passing, weaving at an imaginary bull, was he then the old Memo Contera.

She kept watching him through the window. She saw that Rita was getting impatient. Rita and she had seen only one corrida, and they'd gone because Memo had insisted. It had been a brutal sight. Marta had half-closed her eyes in fear as the bull had thundered by Memo's cape. She'd heard the cheers and talk of the fighter's classic style and grace and courage. And when he had achieved the victory, cheated death once again, he'd toured the ring to receive thanks from the roaring stands, holding the awarded two ears high in his bloody hands. The idol of all Mexico had circled the sand, exalted and proud.

Marta had observed that there was something sexually exciting about the killing of the bull. Memo's tight costume had showed his ample c**k to be very stiff. He'd told her later, "Running the sword into the bull's neck is something like taking a virgin. It's bloody as hell, but it's terribly exciting."

Watching through the window, Marta began remembering her move to Acapulco, the resort city on the west coast of Mexico.

First, there had been the rehiring of Rita Serrano, who had been with her in Rome. Marta had been wanting a girl with special talents.

"Ever since I was eighteen," Rita had told her, "I've realized I was different from other girls. I've been bewildered and frightened, unable to understand what made me different, but I think I understand now."

"Si, I've wanted - yes, needed - a girl of your particular skills," Marta had answered. "I'm glad you left Cuba and came back to me."

They'd been interrupted by Elmo Gibbs, the young coastguardsman. He'd come to talk to Marta. Rita had given him a shameless gaze, measuring him exactly as a man measures an attractive girl when he first becomes aware of her. Rita's gaze had been glued to the bulge in the front of his tight sailor pants, and she couldn't look away.

Gibbs, tall and lean, with a good, honest face, had told Marta he was going to be shipped back to the States.

"That means," Marta had asked despondently, "that we won't get the House you promised?"

"I'm afraid it does," Elmo Gibbs had confessed, "and I'm terribly sorry. But there's to be a complete change at the base."

Marta had said gloomily, "They're releasing Mateo Caray tomorrow. That means we'll be moved out into the street. I don't know what to do."

"Oh, come, now," Gibbs had chided, "you give up too easily. A girl with your endowments can always find a job!"

"Yes, perhaps I can find work in a crib." Then she'd whirled on Gibbs and had said in a strong, confident voice, "There isn't a House in the world better than those I've run! If somebody would only stake me - "

"How much?" Gibbs had asked.

"A couple of grand."

Gibbs had whistled through his teeth. "That's a lot of bread," he'd told Marta. "But, with the help of some pals, maybe I can make you the loan."

"Oh, would you? That would be wonderful!"

Gibbs grinned. "There's just one stipulation. You must hire a girl who likes to go down on a man. A lot of us guys want it that way!"

Rita had said, "I'm good at cocksucking! Why don't you try me?" She'd looked quickly over at Marta.

Marta nodded her approval.

Now, down in the courtyard, Memo had ended his capework for the day with a well-executed recorte. With a perspiring palm, he smacked his stomach and seemed satisfied that it was still hard as steel.

He felt the long-healed scar just above the line of his trousers where a bull had caught him in the abdomen. Marta, who had gone to bed with him, knew that his body carried other identifications from various corridas. Beneath his full head of black hair, there was another scar, on his scalp, the mark of a bull who had struck him down with the flat of a horn.

He folded the silk and percale cape neatly and carried it, together with the muleta, into the house. Rita followed.

Marta opened the door. "Hungry?" she asked.

"For food, no," he said. "For some s*x, si." He winked at Rita.

Marta took his cape and called to the servant to bring him a cold glass of water. "You did very nice veronicas this morning," she told him. "I was watching from the window. How about the three of us having s*x together? Let's see how you can perform in bed!"

Marta led Memo and Rita to the large, airy bedroom on the second floor of the House. Quickly, the three of them got undressed.

Marta simply stood and watched when Rita bent over the bullfighter's hairy loins. Her breasts were full and heavy, and her n*****s grazed his thighs. Her long hair raked his belly, but he seemed to like it.

Rita ran her hand over his belly, down along his naked hips. She moved until his stiff c**k was just below her mouth. It was big, dark, long and throbbing, and Marta expected the girl immediately to gobble it up. It was capped with a silky head that had a drop of lubricant trembling at its tip.

Marta got wet between the legs, just watching. Rita lowered her head and opened her hungry mouth. She grasped the thick, hairy base of the c**k with her small right hand and raised the hard, blood-filled shaft to her eager lips.

Watching, Marta tried to shut out the sounds of the busy Mexican streets. Memo began moaning as Rita made wet sounds over his c**k with her lips. She let him sink his c**k deep into her throat. He withdrew it slowly, then sank it in again.

Rita gagged at the size and depth of it. Marta got so hot she almost climaxed. She began holding her hand over her p***y, trying to keep back her climax.

Memo said huskily, "Come on, querida, suck! Suck it hard!"

His big hands came to her head and pushed down until her lips spread over the crown of his rigid c**k. Her mouth filled with its thickness and heat.

Rita closed her eyes and seemed content. She'd told Marta that she was happiest when she had a man's sensitive flesh in her mouth. She clasped the c**k with both hands and began working her tongue. Memo made pleased grunts. Marta knew that the feel of a big c**k in Rita's mouth satisfied some psychotic need in her she couldn't still.

Memo moaned, "Jesus, you're great!" He worked his hips to thrust his c**k deeper, and Rita let it in to the very back of her throat.

Her lips slid down his hot column of flesh until she had all of it. Oh, Christ, how Marta wished she had the wonderful thing in her cunt! Rita squeezed with her lips and tickled his ass with her fingertips. Memo went wild.

"Jesus!" he panted, his belly rigid, the muscles in his thighs rock hard.

He was coming! It excited Rita. She plunged her head faster and faster, and her tongue lashed the underside of his glans.

A groan ripped from Memo's throat as his or- gasm exploded. Marta knew that he was shooting spurts of semen deep into Rita's throat. She felt herself climaxing. Rita swallowed and whimpered and kept her mouth on the big c**k during Memo's frantic, sweet agony. She milked him with her lips even after he'd quieted down. She sucked his softening c**k clean as he relaxed and sighed and watched.

He said weakly, "You're really something, Rita. You dig a c**k, don't you?"

She lifted her head and nodded. She moved up his body and cuddled against him, and he put his powerful arm around her shoulder and held her.

They lay together for a long time.

Then Memo wanted to f**k Marta. Rita moved over, and she got onto the bed. Memo positioned her on her back and ran his still-hard c**k into her defenseless cunt. He f****d her in the position authorized by the Church, woman on her back and man on top. Memo gasped and lunged and went in deep, slapping tight and hard with each move. Looking up, Marta watched his face and saw she was giving him pleasure each time he came into her. She began sobbing with the utter joy of it. "Oh, not yet, Memo! Don't go off yet, not yet - wait for me!" He whispered, "You like to f**k?"

"Oh, si, si!"

Memo's hand played with her right breast, and his fingers tweaked her n****e. A new current of excitement arched through her. She begged, "Suck my n****e, please - "

"I'll go down on you if you want."

"No - like I said, just suck my tit!"

Memo shifted and lowered his head to her breast. His left hand slid down her belly.

She cried, "Oooh - oooh - "

She was on the edge of a climax. His c**k head found her swollen c******s, and she moaned at the sensations he was giving her. His mouth found her n****e, and she was in heaven. Two different kinds of erotic pleasure whipped her body to a swift climax. She moaned. She was possessed, loved ...

Suddenly, she was spasming, clawing, babbling. Memo was shooting into her. His face, above hers, was a distorted mask.

She felt her own swift accumulation of pleasure. She was beyond control.

Memo's c**k eeled over her c**t as his mouth sucked her n****e. It was wonderful. She closed her eyes and arched her back as her pleasure boiled up and overflowed. She couldn't contain a soft, "Aaaah."

Later, she was reluctant to leave the bed and Memo's closeness. But, finally, she sat up and reached for her dress.

Memo sat up, too, and took his shoes and socks from under the bed. All three of them dressed and left the bedroom. ^

They walked together down the wide staircase, into the sitting room.

"Would anyone care for rolls and choco- late?" Marta asked.

Memo said, "No. How about coffee?"

"All right."

Memo Contera became unusually gloomy that morning as he drank his coffee.

"What is it, Memo?" Marta inquired.

"I have a problem," he told her. "In fact, I have two problems. Chucho, my brother, wants to enter the ring next Sunday, and he's not ready. And Dolores Delgado called me from La Capital early this morning. I don't know what to do about her."