The tape recorded voice went on and on, just as though it were reading something interesting. Corky was only half listening to it, anxious to finish the chapter so he could put the "books" aside for a while. Besides, Billie had promised to get away for the evening. He paused the tape to make a note on his braillewriter, then resumed reading. He would never for the life of him figure out why some British guy named Lamb would want to write about a Roast Pig in the first place.
Corky felt his braille wristwatch. After five. Between ten and quarter after. He paused the tape and made another note on his braillewriter. Can't be that much more left. Maybe he could finish the damn thing. The phone rang. There was only one phone, on the kitchen wall. It rang a second time while he went to it. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello," Billie said.
"Hey! Hello yourself!" Corky exclaimed with evident pleasure.
"You doing anything interesting?" she asked.
"No, just boring myself silly with this English Lit." he replied.
"Want some company?" she continued, a little coyly.
"That all depends," Corky answered. "If you mean Joyce, I'd rather be bored with English."
Giggling, Billie said, "Now why would I be calling you if I meant Joyce? I was thinking more like me, you silly goose. Did you forget we had a sort of date tonight?"
"I've hardly thought about anything else for two days now. I got an idea," Corky said. "How about if we get a pizza or something? You know, a pizza for two, only for two?"
"Just what I was thinking! I could call in a delivery for seven, and be there by the time the pizza arrives," she said. "Is that okay?"
"You mean you don't want to go out for the pizza?" Corky teased.
"Jesus, Corky, sometimes I have to wonder about you." she giggled. "What do you like with your pizza? Besides me, I mean?"
With negotiations completed, Corky speeded up the tape and finished his reading assignment, tidied up the apartment a bit, and decided to grab a quick shower before Billie arrived. Six o'clock. Plenty of time. A nice hot shower was one of the real pleasures in life, as far as he was concerned.
The bathroom had an exhaust fan. Between the noise of the fan and the rush of the shower, Corky was in splendid isolation from the rest of his surroundings while he lathered and rinsed, lathered again, rinsed again, and thought about Billie, his very own personal girl teacher." His recent experience being a "blind judge" at his neighbors' party was sort of "extra curricular." He would need to talk to Billie about it, and tonight would be his first chance. He hoped tonight would be his first chance for other things too.
He felt a familiar stirring with the thought of Billie, and found his penis beginning to stretch and wake up. Should he? Better not. But an extra lathering and rinsing wouldn't hurt, would it? Hell, it was his own soap and his own dick, he guessed he could wash it as fast as he wanted.
Better lather up the hairy parts first, including the balls. Then grab the shaft near the bottom with one hand, and scrub up to the action end with the other, using a firm grasp and a steady rhythm.. Cup those hairy balls gently now, they need support too. Man, look at that eager baby grow! Pausing, he carefully touched the very tip with his forefinger, which seemed like a little eye there, with closed lids. If that little eye could only open its lids and see, what secret wonders could it behold?
It was a dick to be proud of, he knew, for Billie had often told him so. The contestants at Rose and Vy's party seemed to approve of it, too. He wished Billie could just lay her eyes on it now! Or her strong hands! Or her soft moist lips and tongue! Or better yet, with her thighs spread wide apart and that sweet other mouth, the mouth down south, pushing up to him, yawning wide and welcoming him inside, and, and, ...
* * *
"I want a medium pizza," Billie said, "crispy crust, with sausage, mushrooms, and extra cheese." She gave them Corky's phone number and address, only a scant three blocks from the nurse's residence at the hospital where Billie was a student nurse. She checked her watch. Five thirty. She would be free to check out at six. That's enough time for a quick shower, one of the real pleasures in life, as far as Billie was concerned.
The noise of the exhaust fan and the rushing stream of water blotted out other sounds of the nurses' residence. No time to shampoo, so a shower cap protected her hair from a serious soaking. No time for a bush trim either, you don't want to do that in a hurry, for sure. A good basic "get it all clean" shower will have to do. She lathered generously and rinsed thoroughly. It felt so good she did it all again. Maybe she wouldn't risk a bush trim, but she'd wash "down there" really well. She knew her Corky, knew what he liked, and loved him for it, too. If only they could spend more time together, it would be a perfect world.
Funny, Billie thought, how so many things in a shower looked a lot like a cock. She blushed at the thought, but considered the tubular soap jell dispenser, the plastic cylinder of shampoo, and the rigid rubberized handle of the handheld shower head. Billie wondered briefly what guys used to spruce up their private pleasures. She squeezed more soap from the head of the cock. Yes, yes, give it to me, baby! Let that big thing come all over my tits and my bush! She blushed again, and slowly worked up a good lather. The sudsy water flowed slowly down over her belly and filled the spreading gap between her pussy lips, and damn, that felt so fucking good! More soap, more chasing the suds around with her fingers, more up close spraying with the shower head to carry the frothy pleasure away, then another ejaculation of soap. She massaged her breasts with her free hand, but wanted somehow to do them both at once.
Before she knew it, she had thrust the soap dispenser between her legs, and held it there firmly, up tight against her pussy. She squeezed her thighs around it to hold it there without using her hands. She could tug on her nipples with both hands now. Good exercise, she thought, a girl needs good exercise to keep in shape. If she couldn't ride her horses, or ride her man, she'd just have to make do. You're not going anywhere, you magnificent little fucker! You're too big to go in, but I'll ride you until I'm through with you, you gorgeous hunk of -- hunk of -- plastic!
Shit! What am I doing? I'm so horny! Maybe I'll just have to make it happen, I mean I'm right here where I can get all squeaky clean again, and I need it, I need it a lot, but I need Corky down there more than I need this stupid can of soap!
Then Billie skillfully brought herself off with a shuddering climax, biting her bottom lip to stifle any cries, and only the shower stall walls to cling to. No more soap. Just running water now. Lots of water. Carry it all away. God that was good! She picked up the soap dispenser, kissed it, thanked it, and put it aside. It was good, yes, but she hoped for something better, and soon.
* * *
Billie arrived just as the pizza delivery person was pulling away. She touched Corky's doorbell, and let herself in without waiting for him to respond. She dropped her tote bag and ran into his outstretched arms, where they shared a huge hug.
"Wow," she said, "that pizza sure smells good, and you smell good too. You're both good enough to eat!"
"I'm so glad you could get away, baby," Corky replied. "What time do you have to be back?"
"Well, let's put it this way," she said, "I brought some cheese Danishes for breakfast. They're in my tote bag with a change of undies and stuff."
"Fantastic!" he replied, and an enormous grin overspread his face. "Do we owe thanks to Aunt Carolyn again?"
"Well," Billie said, "it's my regular monthly overnight, but I had to ask her to cover for me if Mother or Daddy happened to call. Marianne's Aunt Carolyn is on our side, you know."
"Speaking of which, have you heard from Marianne lately?" Corky asked.
"We talked by phone a couple of times," Billie said. "Have you heard from her?"
"Um, no, not since that last night." he replied.
