Deep Inside (5 page)

The first
time Maureen and Tom got pierced together was right after she got him to ask her out. They were both seventeen.

Getting Tom to ask her out was the biggest triumph of her four years at St. Sebastian Catholic School. Maureen knew she was pretty in a wholesome kind of way, with auburn hair and an athletic figure. She didn't have any trouble getting guys.

But Tom was in an entirely different league from her. He was the school's perfect stud: rich, straight features, an easy way around other guys. Girls did anything to get him into bed.

Tom was headed for prelaw at an Ivy League school while Maureen was headed for the state university. His family lived in Ashford Hills Estates, the only neighborhood in town where you had to pass through security to enter. There was a wall between them—of class, of expectations, of possibilities.

But it was when she saw him in church one Sunday that she knew she could have him. He was kneeling a few rows away from her, and she watched how he looked at the statue of Christ. It was the same way she stared at it, with longing and shame.

Afterwards, Maureen pulled her courage together and walked up to Tom.

“Hi,” she said, “I think we're in the same class at St. Sebastian.”

“Oh, right,” he said.

“Don't you love this church?” she asked. “It's so beautiful. And the statue of Christ must be one of the best anywhere.”

Tom nodded. “It's cool, yeah,” he said nonchalantly.

Maureen smiled. “Ever wonder how it would feel to be pierced like that?”

Tom swallowed hard. He didn't answer. Maureen moved in closer and whispered, “Well, I've imagined what it would feel like.”

Maureen smiled right at Tom, then walked off. She wasn't surprised when, two days later, he called her house.

“How about going out with me next Saturday night?” he said.

She could hear tension in his usually confident voice. After they hung up, Maureen sat by an open window in her bedroom and played with her breasts. She remembered the look she'd seen on his face as he stared at the statue of Christ. She pictured Tom's hands with stigmata in them.

That was it. Her legs parted as her fantasy unfolded before her. The dripping blood…her own tongue pushing through the stigmata as she heard his cries of ecstatic pain.

She held off coming, although she knew she could come when she wanted to.

In her mind, she lingered over every inch of Tom, imagining what she didn't yet know, kissing, sniffing, licking. The taste of blood was vivid in her mind. She waited until the aching was excruciating to let herself come. And when she did, it swept over her in great waves.

 

As Saturday
approached, her plans took shape. She knew that on their first date they'd have to get pierced together.

Tom suggested your typical movie-and-a-soda date when he picked her up. Maureen, though, knew that Tom had a rep for liking to drink, and suggested that after the movie they go to a bar. He looked at her slyly.

“Some girls don't want to risk getting caught,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I'm not one of them. So why don't we just skip the movie and go straight to the bar?” she said.

They swapped wicked smiles.

There was a mob at the door to the bar, and they managed to slip in without being carded. Tom ordered beer after beer, while Maureen matched him with harder stuff—straight tequila shots.

Tom caressed her hand under the table. Maureen, eager to get the evening off to a faster start, shook his hand off and put her own hand on the crotch of his jeans.

She leaned over and, making her voice as breathy, wet, and steamy as she could, said, “Let's go make out in your car.”

A little lick and a bite, and he was ready to do whatever she wanted. They hid their beer bottles under their sweaters and slipped out of the bar and into the car. They necked for a few minutes.

Tom pulled away and smiled at Maureen.

“I bet you give a great blow job,” he said.

“Yeah, I do,” she said.

They necked some more. Maureen let him feel her breasts, and kept brushing her hand over his crotch. Tom was a groaner, she discovered, enjoying the feeling of power she had over him.

Their lips were growing sore and swollen, the car's windows were steamy, and the passenger area smelled of sweat and musk.

“Fuck, Jesus!” Tom said. “You've got to show a boy some mercy. I don't know how long I can keep going before I explode.”

Maureen felt his hand on the back of her head, pressing it down. She squirmed away, giving his crotch a good squeeze as she did so.

“I'll give you the best blow job you've ever had,” she said.

“Now, baby,” said Tom.

“But I'll only give it to you on one condition.”

“Anything, baby.”

“‘Anything, Maureen,'” she corrected him.

“Maureen,” he said dutifully.

Maureen pulled back. “Did you see the tattoo and piercing parlor a few doors down? I'll suck you off, every last drop, after you and I go in there and get pierced together.”

“Whoa,” said Tom. “That's freaky.”

“It isn't freaky,” said Maureen. “It's kinky. And I think we both like that.”

Tom got that look back on his face, that happy and horny look. “All right,” he said. “Let's do it.”

They stumbled over to the parlor a few doors down. They pushed through the door and as they did, Maureen realized that this was the church she had always wanted to worship in.

At first, it didn't seem like much. A cluster of college kids were giggling amongst themselves. A lesbian couple were arguing about what kind of piercing they should get. A gay couple was discussing leather bondage.

Maureen saw the woman who ran the place. She was tall and commanding, with the kind of Amazon stature that would have made her unpopular at St. Sebastian. Yet she was one of the most beautiful women Maureen had ever seen.

The parlor didn't inspire confidence. It didn't seem all that clean—there were sex toys hanging on the walls, chains that were slightly rusty and looked used.

Yet the Amazon was so commanding that Maureen relaxed. And soon, the grunginess of the place gave her a sexual thrill. She led Tom over to a ratty sofa where they awaited their turn. They held hands, whispered, and tongue-kissed.

Finally the Amazon brusquely walked over to them.

“So where do you want to get your new holes?” she barked. The woman's military tones gave Maureen another thrill. The two horny teens staggered up from the couch and followed the Amazon into a back room.

“We'd like our ears pierced. If you can remember which side isn't gay,” Tom said.

“Oh, that's so pathetically Ivy League. Let's go for something more cool,” Maureen said, kissing him. “Let's get our nipples pierced.”

The Amazon said matter-of-factly, “His and her nipple piercings? Is that what you want?”

There was a burst of laughter from behind her. Maureen saw the gay guys looking at them with an appraising, mocking expression. Their look turned her on, especially when she saw Tom looking at them, too, and taking a deep breath.

Tom leaned close to Maureen.

“Should we do this?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” she said dreamily.

“Is this going to hurt?” Tom asked, louder than he intended.

“It sure will, provided I do it right,” the Amazon replied.

“But don't you do something to numb the pain?” he asked.

Maureen looked at him quizzically. Was he embarrassed, or was he aroused?

The Amazon laughed. “Most of my customers like the pain. But if you need something to help you along…” She strode over to a cupboard, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and handed it to Tom. “Here, you first.”

Tom took the whiskey. “Remove your shirt,” the Amazon barked. The gay guys were still playing onlooker.

They decided that he would have his left nipple done, she the right.

Maureen was surprised how much she loved watching the woman administer the sharp pain to Tom. His handsome, dumb-jock looks, always so sure of himself—that was part of what made her go after him. And here he was, wincing, gasping, uncertain of where he was going tonight.

Maureen looked at his crotch. It was bulging even more than it had been back in the car. Her own pussy throbbed, knowing how hot Tom was feeling. She loved the sensation, and loved knowing that she would be next.

And now it was her turn.

Tom held out the bottle of whiskey, but she shook her head. “I want the pain,” she said. He gave her a deep kiss and stepped back.

She removed her T-shirt. As she did, he asked, “Do you want me to close the door to the store?”

Maureen shook her head as she stood in her black bra. She stared at Tom, and then teasingly glanced past him at a new couple who'd entered the store.

They had to be in their forties. They were holding up dog collars to each other's necks and stopped. Maureen knew she was turning them on, could see the man start. The woman licked her lips. Maureen unhooked her bra, and threw it to Tom to catch. She ran her hand over her right breast, and sat down.

The Amazon took Maureen's hand off, and roughly took her breast. Their lips were close to each other's.

Maureen looked over at Tom defiantly. He glared back at her, touching his left nipple.

Now the Amazon pinched Maureen's nipple.

“Gotta make it stand up so we can drive the needle through,” she said.

Maureen didn't cry out, though she did gasp. Tom was staring at her chest as though hypnotized. The Amazon brought the piercing instrument close to Maureen's nipple. Maureen watched, feeling proud of the way the nipple only got harder. The needle entered.

“This is more than just a piercing,” Maureen found herself saying.

“This is your first step into the next world,” the Amazon said.

The metal bit in, there was a push…and then her breasts were sweaty and heaving. She had always been self-conscious about their small size and the enormous aureoles. Now, feeling the needle move through her nipple, she felt a rush of pride. The Amazon gave her an appreciative look—Maureen felt they were swapping secrets.

Tom stared in rapture at the tip of silver as it appeared again on the other side. It was the way he had stared at the statue of Christ. In a flash she could see that his universe of respectable schools, manicured lawns, and exclusive country clubs had been punctured, too.

The grungy old walls of the tattoo and piercing parlor were melting, the chains and leather growing and surging. The whole place shone.

Maureen saw that the Amazon was about to kiss her. She searched for Tom and found him in the shiny white distance making out with the gay couple. They were unzipping Tom's pants and stroking him in a way that Maureen knew she couldn't compete with.

Tom looked so beautiful that she began to cry.

She opened her mouth to the Amazon. As their tongues met, Maureen felt a spiky pain and tasted something delicious—it was her own blood.

When they both pulled back from the kiss Maureen saw a long needle retract into the tall woman's mouth.

The Amazon raised her hands slowly, lovingly. Out of the end of each finger was a long piercing instrument where nails should be.

Maureen lay back. She closed her eyes, as she tried to catch her breath. When she opened them, she saw that her body wasn't clothed, and she was lying on a white bunk bed.

The Amazon ran her silvery fingers over Maureen's neck, stomach, thighs, and the tiny sliver of pubic hair. Maureen's flesh had never felt more alive.

Then the Amazon swiftly brought her fingers down, with swift exquisite little stabs, again and again, all over Maureen's body.

Writhing in ecstatic pain, Maureen turned her head. There was a spaceship's portal-like window. Through it she could see Earth where the moon should be.

It was as though she was hovering above her own pain. A woman's voice screamed. Maureen realized it was her own cries.

And then she was back in the grungy parlor, Tom by her side, holding her hand.

She looked at her breasts and saw a silvery flower on her right breast. There was a hook for a chain in the center of it.

Maureen didn't remember choosing this piece of jewelry. But she loved her new nipple shield. It was prettier than the one Janet Jackson wore.

Five minutes later, the Amazon stood behind the cash register, gruff and businesslike again. Maureen tried to make eye contact with her, but the tall woman was only interested in Tom's credit card.

“You both handled that very well,” was all she said.

Back in the car, Maureen and Tom drove to the empty high school parking lot.

They fucked three times.

“How am I ever going to get undressed in gym now?” Tom said.

Maureen laughed as she ran her fingers over his nipple ring. “Guess you'll have to hide your body from everyone except me.”

 

For the
rest of senior year, Maureen and Tom enjoyed playing with their piercings.

One time, when they were alone at his parents' place, she brought a couple of tiny chains. They swam in the pool, his ring tied to hers. The tug of the chain and the chilly water licking their pierced nipples added to their ecstasy.

When Tom went off to the East Coast, they didn't promise to be faithful to each other.

“That would be so freshman,” Maureen sneered.

Instead they vowed never to get pierced except together.

During that first semester, they wrote each other numerous e-mails, comparing notes about how other people responded to their piercings. Tom IMed Maureen one night that he was surprised to find out how much girls liked it.

For a few months, they enjoyed exchanging e-mails about their sex lives.

Then there was a puzzling silence. But one night a lonely e-mail from Tom arrived.

“I'm finding that I just can't get as aroused as I first did,” his note said.