Louise... Slut at Last Pt. 03

"Are the photos helping you any?"

He texted back in about five minutes:

"I'm sorry to say, not really. It's hard to explain. Any way we could meet tomorrow?"

They arranged to meet at Mark's house the following day.

"What about Millie?" Louise had asked.

"Oh, not to worry, she won't have stirred from bed yet. We'll have the place to ourselves."

Now she needed and excuse to give Will as to why she'd be meeting with Mark for a second Saturday in a row.

"I guess he's just not confident about that passage yet, Will. He's asked me to come take another look. You won't be mad?"

"Nonsense, dear. Of course you must help your friend!"

Louise drove to Mark's house on Saturday morning with a good deal of trepidation. She had done what she could, and she didn't see how anything more would be possible. Still, she thought of the cruel, mad woman, Millie, that was making her friend's life miserable. She thought of the severe injustice of it all! How maddening it was. Then a thought came which brought her up short. What if he simply didn't find her photos sexy or attractive in any way? What if she was just too plain?

"Well, I guess I'll know soon, one way or the other."

Her trepidation was not relieved one bit when, upon her arrival, Mark ushered her directly into his large bedroom. She'd know for quite some time that Mark and Millie had separate bedrooms. He shut and locked the door behind him. Now it was getting creepy. He had her sit in a leather-trimmed antique chair, while he brought another similar chair over and sat down facing her. The room, though large, seemed cramped because someone had set up a folding room divider (with Japanese art enameled on it) between their current location and the bed. But there was no time to think of that now. Mark was speaking.

"My dear Louise. A lifetime of thanks could not begin to express my gratitude to you for sending those amazing photographs of your perfect, Muse-like image! I really am overcome with gratitude, and I'm sure I shall never be able to fully pay you back."

"But ... I thought you said that the pictures didn't help you?" Louise responded, confused.

"Well, they did and they didn't. If ANY pictures could help me in my torment, those would have been the exact pictures to do it! But, still, they are only pixels on my laptop, when you think about it. And what I lack, in the main, is emotional intimacy. And that, sadly, cannot be got from a photo, no matter how glorious the subject."

Louise reflected in silence. "So, is there nothing to be done?" she asked.

"That's why I've asked you hear, dear Louise. To ask you to try an experiment with me. I've taken the precaution of erecting this sort of room divider, so that you need not be exposed to my tormented attempts to gain release. I've come to respect most highly your ethical principles and your faith, and I believe with some caution, we may be successful with this arrangement."

Louise looked confused, so Mark offered further explanation.

"I shall retreat beyond the screen to my bed, with my laptop, and your fifty glorious photographs, and you shall remain here on this side."

"But how will that help?" Louise asked, now really confused.

"By the intimacy of hearing your voice, friend! While I look at your photos, you will simply talk to me. It needn't be conversation. You can just grab that volume of Oscar Wilde off the shelf and read me any random chapter. That should suffice."

Louise was dubious. It didn't violate her ethics, she supposed. But it didn't seem quite normal. But she looked at Mark's pleading brown eyes, and thought of his five-year drought, and it made her agreeable to his experiment. Mark was careful not to look too joyful when she relented. He'd set up a hidden video camera down low in a corner, to record the experiment for Will's later consumption. Of course, there wouldn't be much to see today. But it would remain there for future experiments.

So Mark retreated behind the screen and opened his laptop, and eventually gave Louise the "all clear" signal, to let her know to begin reading. She launched into "The Picture of Dorian Gray" somewhere in the middle, and read two full chapters before the experiment ended. Mark, for his part, did his due diligence (well, sort of) by stroking his long, thick cock to Louise's sexy photos on the laptop. But he frequently had to look away, or stop stroking so as not to cum. For the whole point of the experiment was that it must fail.

After Louise had read for about 20 minutes, he came round the screen, fully clothed and proclaimed,

"Well, we tried, love! It was much more intimate, hearing your voice, than just looking at the photos by myself. But my torment continues, with no relief. But we made a valiant effort, and that's what counts!"

He looked almost happy as he said this, and suggested that they retreat to the kitchen for coffee. She agreed, glad to be out of the locked room, and away from the failed experiment. Although reading to him had not been so bad. It was just that she felt so bad for him. She let her disappointment show so much that now it was Mark who had to try and cheer her up. He said several witty thing, probably channeling Oscar Wilde, and that, along with the good coffee, did put her in a much better humor for her ride home. Before she left, however, Mark did elicit a promise for her to come back and give the experiment a second try. He suggested the following Saturday morning. Louise thought that was far too long to wait, and they agreed on Tuesday evening. Millie would be at her sister's house that afternoon and evening.

How will I explain this to Will, she thought. I can't just keep saying that I'm helping him edit. That will wear thin. She considered. No, this will require a few more pinches of truth mixed in, to sell it.

So when Will asked her how it had gone at Mark's house, she told a little more of the truth.

"Well, it was odd. He's just so lonely, living there with his invalid wife, and he apparently never has visitors. If you can believe it, all he wanted me to do was to read to him. From Oscar Wilde, as it turned out.

Will tried to look interested, but not shocked.

Louise grimaced as she braced for the next question she had to ask Will.

"And he wants me to come over Tuesday night and read to him again. Do you think that is complete foolishness, Will? Be honest."

"Not at all. You have a friend, a good friend of longstanding, who is in some kind of emotional need, and going through a painful time. I think it is a high virtue for you to sacrifice your time to help assuage his loneliness. I think it's a fine idea. It's a ministry."

Louise was visibly relieved. Will did not object. And he'd even named what she was doing, and it was the word she'd felt if not enunciated all along about her helping Mark: ministry. Ministrations. Now she could actually start to get excited about Tuesday night. Maybe she'd bring something racier to read. Maybe some love sonnets. One way or another, she'd put things right with the world. She would get Mark his much-deserved relief.

******************

She did pack some Shakespeare and Donne with her for Tuesday night. For his part, Will had purchased for Mark two high-resolution web-enabled video cameras, a better one for the current location, and one for a second angle. The second one had better audio, and Mark ended up mounting it high up on the wall, nearly obscured by one wing of a "winged victory" figure atop his tallest bookshelf.

Mark would now get a live feed, so he set up drinks and snacks in his Study, and hunkered down for what he hoped would be a very rewarding evening.

When Louise arrived at Mark's place early Tuesday evening, there was an immediate sense of lightness, ease about the place. She chalked it up to the absence of Millie anywhere about the place. The mood was entirely different, completely upbeat. She was momentarily taken aback when, upon entering Mark's bedroom, she realized that the room divider was completely gone. There was his large bed, all ready for an occupant, and no chairs brought out. Mark had her sit on the edge of the bed, while he remained standing.

"I've thought this over, dear, and I think I see a few reasons why our last experiment failed. For one, even though you were technically in the same room, the divider made two rooms of it, and so you seemed remote. Then, too, I'd much rather look straight at the real Louise than even the best attempts at capturing your beauty through photography. And then, if there could just be some touch. I mean, the touch of another ... of course, behind the screen, well I was touching ..."

"You dolt!" Louise laughed. "I know what you were doing behind the screen! I'm not THAT much of an innocent." This statement about herself gave her boldness to continue, even though she didn't really consider where she was headed, rhetorically.

"I'm not afraid to see your penis, if that's what you think!" she went on. "I've seen a PENIS before!" And she laughed again.

Mark fought back the very hard temptation to say, "Not like this one, you haven't!" But he needed to avoid humor, and consider the long game. So, instead, he simply replied, "Oh, yes, of course. By all means."

"Well, we may as well get to it, eh?" she winked. She had greater expectations of success with this week's ministry experiment than last week's. "Where do you want me?"

It was another loaded question, another trap, which Mark dexterously side-stepped.

"I'll just have my pants off and lie down, and you come lie beside me," he suggested.

"Okay," she said, even though she was not quite so sure. But, as she spoke no word of objection, Mark soon had his pants off, and she got the first look at his dangling cock. She wanted to look away, and at the same time wanted to get closer for a better view. It was ... what? she thought ... MAJESTIC!

"Might as well have this shirt off as well," Mark decided, "just in case the experiment succeeds this week. He chuckled good-naturedly.

He didn't lie all the way back on the bed but rather sat near the edge of it, and Louise sat beside him.

"Shall I read now?" she asked, holding up the two books of poems.

"I don't think that will be necessary. If I can just gaze on you, Louise. You're so beautiful!"

"And that's it, just gaze? That'll do it?"

Mark patiently explained, "That plus the touch. Remember we talked about the intimacy of touch."

"You want me to touch your ... penis?" Louise asked. She was not offended, but didn't know quite what was expected of her.

"Yes, love. Only if you want to, of course!"

She gave his cock a long look and decided that, yes, in the name of ministry, YES, she did want to touch his cock. She tentatively reached out her right hand and tried to close her fingers around it. Her petite fingers could almost, but not quite, encircle his girth. She grabbed on and started pulling up and down. Her hand was near the base of Mark's cock, and so the meat of her hand squished his large, full scrotum at the nadir of each stroke. It made a pleasant little noise. At the zenith of each stroke, her fist was about halfway up his shaft. She gradually gained confidence and settled into a rhythm. She was amazed at how much it grew!

At the beginning, it seemed only slightly longer than Will's cock (if much thicker), but now, after a minute of stroking, it seemed twice as long. And it was very hard. The semi-cylindrical bump on the bottom of his penis shaft (she forgot what it was even called) swelled out so much, and was springy under the gentle pressure of her moving fingers.

But what amazed her most was the size of the head. This was in sharp contradistinction to Will's head. Will's cock was of medium girth at its base, and just kept getting narrower the further out you went on it. Not that there was that far to go out. But, the point is, his head was a tiny little baby cone. By contrast, the head of Mark's cock, now beginning to assume a purple-ish hue, was like some kind of tomato, or like a human heart. Yes, like a heart, for it was very full of blood at the moment.

"Is the experiment succeeding?" Louise dared to ask him.

"It may," Mark answered with uncertainty in his voice. But do you see how your hand can only cover about a third of the length of my shaft? Two hand would be better. Louise immediately saw the sense of this and tried to reach her left hand over and place it above the right. She made a few two-handed strokes this way, but it was very awkward, seated beside him as she was.

"I think, love, that it'll work better if you get down between my legs. Here let's just throw this pillow on the floor for your knees."

Mark was right! She could now stack her fists one over the other and cover most of his shaft, with only the swollen heart/head sticking out at the top of each stroke. Suddenly, she realized that if the experiment succeeded, her own clothing would be in danger.

"Do you think I should do something to protect my clothing?" she asked.

"I would. Ministry stains can be hard to explain to husbands."

Louise took off her blouse and bra, then slipped out of her skirt. She kicked off her shoes, but left her panties on.

She resumed her position between Mark's legs, using both hands on his erect manhood.

"That's more like it," Mark said, seeming very pleased.

Louise was lost in thought about the enormous difference in men's cocks that apparently existed. Will's was like a miniature replica, so that it was hard to even really study the parts separately. But Mark's huge and swollen member was like an enlargement, suitable for educational purposes, for serious study.

"How is it now?" Louise checked with Mark.

"Almost getting it now," he replied. In truth, he had to rally his entire supply of self-control not to cum immediately. She was doing a fantastic job. But, a hand job, nonetheless. He wanted a bit more. And he knew that the two hungry video cameras concurred in that desire.

He approached the subject gently. "Louise, love, you see how that now the entire shaft of my cock is getting attention, but the poor head is just, well, hung out to dry, as it were. If there was only some way to get him some of that goodness." He pretended to be thinking of a way.

"I've only got two hands, Mark!" Louise laughed. And immediately upon saying it, she realized the obvious solution. She would minister to Mark's cock with her mouth. Then the entire male apparatus would be getting its fair share of attention.

Still, she was a bit tentative. "You won't ... " she began.

"What, dear?"

"I mean, you won't ... if the experiment should prove successful, you'll warn me so I don't ..."

He took pity on her and stepped in with assurance.

"Oh, upon my honour. You absolutely have my word! A few seconds before I know that the experiment is about to succeed, I am going to tap you smartly on the shoulder. That is your signal to back off and stop polishing my knob for a moment. Get your head clear back, but keep stroking with both hands, and I think you'll have a glorious view of the fruit of your ministerial labors."

If she hadn't already been inclined to go down on Mark, just for the sake of ministry, hearing well-constructed sentences like that from a man whose enormous cock she was pistoning up and down ...well, for a writing geek like her, it was just too much. Now she wanted, no HAD to have his cock head in her mouth. She opened wide and started sucking it as best she could.

Mark was elated. He was not going to make her work long. He had already achieved his goal for the evening. He felt sure that the video cameras (and their owner, hornily watching from his Study at home) would feel the same way. So, in what seemed to Louise Irwin like only a few short seconds, there was a sharp rap on her right shoulder ... the signal! She reluctantly took her head off Mark's cock and remembered to keep pumping with both hands. What happened next, though it may not surprise the adventurous reader, was a most welcome and astonishing surprise to Louise. For the experiment succeeded in the most glorious possible way. Huge, long ropes of cum shot out of Mark's engorged meat, the first landing on her bangs and dripping down onto one cheek. The second went straight up in the air and came down on his cock head, then rolled down, glazing her fingers. The third did likewise. The fourth landed on Mark's chest, making him glad that he had removed his shirt. After that, she didn't care or notice where the cum landed. There was an abundance of it.

"Yay! We did it! The experiment succeeded!"

Will, for his part, viewing the high-resolution video on the large computer screen in his Study, had no choice but to concur. Like Louise's, his hands were also glazed with sticky cum. If he hurried, he'd have time for another drink and one more viewing of the night's "ministry" before Mark's ministering angel returned home.