Candy reclined on the bed and submitted willingly to the ministrations of the powerful body guard's hands as he massaged and kneaded every inch of her naked flesh ... her thighs ... her hips ... her proud young breasts. Her nipples blushed then hardened as he cupped the ivory fullness of her tits between his two huge palms, causing ripples of desire to tingle through her body.
Candy had to obey these men and do what they wanted so that her husband's debt would be absolved. But, she was going to enjoy her work and let these feelings of desire bring her the ecstasy she needs.
CHAPTER ONE
She was so proud that her smooth breasts refused to rise and fall in a calm manner. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, and she stroked her hair to one side in an aloof manner, as though thinking that the little gesture might take away from the obvious devotion on her face.
Around her, the posh club's audience was entirely intent upon the performer before them. He was the hotest act to hit Chicago since the fire, with the flair of a Liberaci, the poise of an old trooper, though the handsome, brown-haired man at the piano was no more than in his mid-twenties.
The piece he was playing came to its crescendo-like finish and the crowd rose to its feet in applause. The woman's smile broadened with even deeper worship. The young pianist had been adjudged superb by the entertainment critics, and they had run out of adjectives to praise his superb renderings of classical and popular music from all periods including modern jazz and rock. As far as the people from Chicago were concerned, Drew James was their discovery, they had made him an overnight success, at least in the Windy City. But they knew it was only a matter of time before he was known nationally.
Acknowledging the applause with a winning smile that combined both youthful shyness and pleasure, the pianist sat down once more at the baby-grand piano, nodded to the orchestra behind him and proceeded to give his admiring public an encore. As he began to play, there was an audible sigh as every woman in the large, handsomely decorated supper club gazed with longing at the good-looking man. The men, however, although appreciative of Drew's playing, settled on a different attraction-a ravishingly beautiful female sitting alone at the small table not far from "ringside."
Even in the soft light of the club, it was easy to see that the girl was an exceptional example of young womanhood. She was about twenty-two, with long platinum-blonde hair that hung in soft waves around her shoulders, perfectly framing the innocent beauty of her face. Her skin was perfectly clear and white, save for a natural blush of redness in the cheeks. Her eyes were a sparkling sea-green, her full, sensuous lips the color of ripened cherries. Despite the attention of the men, however, the pretty young girl was intent only on the pianist, and her appreciation of his talent was even more apparent than that of the other women.
I'm so lucky, she thought to herself, so wonderfully lucky to have Drew for my husband. He's so talented, and so handsome. Every woman in this club wishes she were me, but oh, my darling, none of them could possibly love you the way I do.
The sound of a chair being moved out from her table suddenly diverted the girl's attention, and she found herself face to face with an unexpected companion. He was a small, stocky man, with close-cropped red hair and the face of an ex-boxer. Smiling somewhat slyly at the blonde girl, he sat down next to her.
"Hello, Candy. Mind if I join you?"
"Why ... no, Lou, not at all."
Although she tried not to show it, a flicker of revulsion passed through the young wife's suddenly tensed body. Even though Lou Grady was Drew's agent, and the manager of the Star Club, she found it hard to like him. It wasn't that he was ugly, although his blunt face and chunky build always reminded Candy of a bulldog, but there was an indefinable air about him, a certain attitude that made him seem as if he was always leering at her or about to suggest something dirty, that made her distrust him instinctively from the first day she had met him. Even though he had given her husband his first big break, the pretty young blonde always felt uneasy in his presence.
Lou Grady was not unaware of Candy James's reaction. He had felt it time and time again in his forty-five years, but it didn't bother him one bit. His power, he knew, did not lie in his looks or personal charm. Casually he adjusted his chair so that it was right next to the pianist's wife.
"The kid's playin' real good tonight," he murmured, looking sharply into Candy's evasive green eyes.
"Yes ... yes he is."
She could feel his thigh touching hers, and the young wife tried to edge her chair further away from the stockily built agent, but each time she moved he was right there, brushing his leg lightly against hers, as if by accident. Despite her feelings, however, Candy knew she had to at least be polite to Grady. After all, he was Drew's agent. He had seen Drew playing weekends in a little suburban bar and given him the contract to play the Star Club, taking him on as a personal client as well.
"Yeah, Candy," the agent said, leaning in toward her, "Drew's gonna go places. And I'm gonna help him every step of the way."
He reached over and patted Candy's hand, curling his thick lips upward in a toothy smile. The young wife had to fight the desire to jerk her hand away, and instead casually reached for a cigarette, using it as an excuse to once again try and keep her distance with the older man.
"I want you to know, Lou," she said, trying to smile warmly, "that Drew and I really appreciate what you're doing for him."
"Don't mention it, kid. Drew's got talent. Real talent. And he's got the looks to back it up, too. Look at the way these old dames just drool over him. That means money in the cash register. Couple of big club dates, Vegas, a few TV spots, a record contract, and he'll be right up there with the big ones."
"You really think so?"
"I know it. 'Course, it all depends on cooperation, if you know what I mean. Nobody gets nowhere in this business without a little cooperation."
His small, gray eyes locked with Candy's, and the agent stared intently at the nervous young wife. At that moment, however, there was another burst of wild applause as Drew James finished his set. The young blonde pulled her attention away from the balding agent and began to clap with the others, watching while her slender husband bowed to the audience.
Oh Drew, she thought, I wish Lou Grady wasn't your agent. I hate it when I have to be alone with him.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw her husband thread his way through the crowd toward the table.
"Darling, you were wonderful tonight," Candy exclaimed as Drew sat down to join them. She kissed him on the cheek, as much for Lou Grady's benefit as for her husband's.
"Thanks, baby. Yeah, it was a good set, wasn't it. And the audience, terrific , ... just terrific. But I could sure use a drink ... yeah, a nice little drink would set me up fine."
As he spoke, Candy realized that her young husband had already had a good deal to drink. His breath had a telltale liquor smell, and his eyes were glazed in a strange sort of way that his blonde wife knew was a clear sign that he had had more than a few slugs of Scotch in the dressing room before the show. It always amazed her that no matter how much he drank it never affected his performance. He could play the most complicated pieces with no problem, even if he was stoned to the gills. Yet it depressed her terribly when he drank so much, and lately, it seemed, he always had a drink in his hand.
"Why don't you have something to eat first."
"Eat?" the young pianist remarked, laughing tipsily, "Hell, why eat when I can have a nice drink. Calms me down after the set, you know?"
"Hey, Drew," Lou interjected, also aware of his client's problem with alcohol, "you better go easy on the booze for a while. You're valuable to me, but I don't want you falling down drunk in the gutter."
"Ah, what are you talking about," the handsome husband replied. "You two are coming on like I'm some kind of alcoholic. I just want a drink, that's all. Keeps me loose." He laughed again, then turned to his pretty wife and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "But if it makes you nervous, baby, then I'll stay cool tonight."
"Thanks, Drew ... I ... I'd feel better if you did."
"Anything for you, Candy. You know that. Besides, he glanced at Lou Grady, winking, "I got something else in mind. I'm in the mood for a little ... shall we say, a spin with Lady Luck?"
Grady smiled at his young client, knowing full well what he meant. As well as having a weakness for alcohol, the handsome pianist also had a weakness for gambling, and he held his booze better than his hunger for the games of chance. Although it was illegal in the State, there was a private room, located two floors above the supper club, reserved strictly for "club members" or "business associates." In that room there was a complete gambling layout, rivaling anything Las Vegas had to offer. Of course it was strictly private, and, Grady knew, would remain that way as long as the right people were paid off.
"So you want to play the wheel, huh?" the agent whispered conspiratorially. "Well, why not. Why not? Let's go upstairs."
The Star Club "Annex," as its privileged patrons often jokingly called it, was a huge room almost as large as the supper club below, only without the genteel-elegance decor of the latter. The Annex was ultramodern, with a gleaming white and silver bar covering one entire wall. Leather couches, chairs, and floor pillows, in black, white and shades of gray, were everywhere. In addition, there was a huge roulette wheel, crap and blackjack tables, and every other conceivable gambling device-a sumptuous Las Vegas in the heart of Chicago, providing a private playground for well-heeled businessmen, gangsters, movie stars, and anyone else "in the know."
Candy James sat at the bar, glancing periodically to the roulette table at the other end of the room where Drew and Lou were involved with the game. She sipped lightly at her Manhattan, trying to sort through the confusion of thoughts that raced through her brain. In so many ways her life was just perfect. She had a handsome husband who was one of the best pianists in the country. Everybody was saying that it was only a matter of time before he would be a star. Yet she didn't like Lou Grady and the whole world of people at the Star Club, particularly at the Annex. And now, with Drew's drinking and gambling getting worse every day, the young blonde wife found herself growing more and more nervous about the future.
"Another drink, Candy?"
It was Bill, the bartender, a pleasant man in his middle thirties.
"No, I think I've had enough. I've got to go home soon anyway. Got to be up by noon to get to work."
"Still working hat-check downstairs?"
"Oh, sure. I've got to. We ... we need the money."
"Money? I thought Drew was making some good dough here."
"Oh, sure ... it's just ... well, you know how he likes to gamble. He gets a little crazy sometimes and...."
"And gambles away his salary, is that it?"
"Yes ... I'm afraid so. But it's only temporary, Bill. It's hard for Drew ... he's under a lot of pressure now, and he says it lets him get his aggression out ... I know when things ease up, after he really makes it ... it won't be the same."
"I sure hope so, Candy. You know I've seen a lot of guys just get hooked in that gambling thing. Worse than booze sometimes. It can be a real killer."
"But not for Drew, believe me. There's one thing that means more to him than drinking or gambling, and that's his talent. He wouldn't do anything that would hurt it, I know that."
"You're probably right. I'll tell you, Drew's one of the best performers I've ever seen. He'll make it, all right. Looks like he's doing okay at the tables tonight, too."
Both Candy and the bartender knew, from the young husband's shouts of glee, that he was having a winning streak.
"Well, I think I'd better get home, Bill. See you tomorrow."
"Bight. Good night, Candy."
The young blonde wife moved through the room toward the table where her husband was enthusiastically, and somewhat drunkenly, gambling. Waiting for a momentary lull in the game, she drew him aside. "Darling, it's late..'."
"Late?" he snapped somewhat sharply, "HelL it's earlyl I don't want to go home yetl"
"I ... I don't want you to leave, Drew ... I ... I just wanted to tell you that I thought I'd go on home because I've got to get up for work in the morning."
"Yeah, sure," he mumbled distractedly, "see you later. I'll be home soon, don't worry."
He turned back to the game, patting her clumsily on her rounded buttocks. Feeling somewhat wounded and ignored, Candy turned and went through the room toward the door. As she moved through the crowd, the men instinctively turned to glance at her ripe young body, fully revealed by the clinging black sheath dress that she wore. Their lust-filled eyes travelled over the thrusting mounds of her unusually large breasts that pressed eagerly against the material of her dress, down the hourglass curves of her waist and hips, and finally admiring the slim, shapely perfection of her legs. As she passed, there were occasional remarks and suggestions, but the pretty young girl was hardly conscious of the attention. She thought only about Drew.
He's so ... so different when he's been drinking, she thought unhappily. I know it's not him, it's the atmosphere of the club ... the need to suceed ... but ... I wish he wouldn't get so cold toward me.
It was ironic, she realized, that it was she who was partly responsible for his big chance. She had been working as a hat-check girl at the Star Club and, on a night off, had seen Drew working at Luci's Hideaway out in Cloverdale. The pretty blonde had been so impressed with his playing that she went backstage one night to compliment him, then one thing led to another and after a few weeks he proposed marriage. After the wedding she brought him down to the Star Club and persuaded Lou Grady to at least give him a tryout.
Was it only three short months ago? she wondered, amazed. So much as changed since then. So much. It started off so beautifully ... like a dream come true. And now....
Now, because of Drew's gambling, they were living on the money she earned as hat-check girl, barely enough to pay expenses. She'd pleaded with him to stop gambling, since at the moment, they were behind in the rent, but it had only led to violent arguments. Finally she reconciled herself to the fact that there was no way to stop him, and that once he was more sure of himself, was more of a success, it would stop. Besides, she knew that there weren't many places like the Star Club "Annex." Once his career got going he would be far away from the temptation. At least she hoped so.
Leaving the club, she walked slowly home, away from the bright lights of the Loop, heading toward a lower-class residential district. Finally she stopped. A short way down a dimly lit street a sign flashed on and off: Palace Hotel.
Palace Hotel, she remarked wryly to herself, that's a laugh. It's certainly no palace. She gazed intently at the building, looking toward the window where she knew the hotel manager lived. Old Mr. Ferguson. He always seemed to be at her heels night and day whenever she left the tiny two-room apartment that Drew and she had rented there. Now, with the rent three weeks behind, she couldn't face seeing him. He had been hounding her for the money, and giving her the same lascivious looks that Lou Grady gave her. He was like all the others, and there was no mistaking what his dark, rat-like eyes were implying.
She stepped back out of the light and watched until she was satisfied that he wasn't awake, and then quickly slipped inside the hotel, went up the narrow, rank-smelling stairs to the rooms.
Ten minutes later the pretty young blonde wife sat on the edge of the old, creaky hotel bed, sipping slowly at a scotch and soda and waiting for the tub to fill. The drink, and the soft music that came from the portable radio on the bed stand, did little to dispel the gloom that had settled over her that night. Her brain reeled with confusion and anxiety about her husband, and now small tears of unhappiness formed in the corners of her eyes as she sat alone in the shabby hotel apartment.
"No," she murmured quietly to herself, "I won't cry. I mustn't. I'm being stupid. Stupid and silly."
Quickly she finished her drink and went into the small kitchenette, putting the glass in the sink. Turning, she went into the bathroom, unaware that her every move was being observed.
The Palace Hotel had once been the private home of a wealthy Chicago businessman, and faded reminders of its former splendor could still be seen in the woodwork and ceilings. But it had been more than forty years since it had been a stately residence, and slowly, as the neighborhood changed, it had fallen into decay until now it functioned as a transient hotel. The once-splendid rooms were carved up into small apartments housing a few old people living alone on pensions, a few travellers, and a few "in-betweens" like Drew and Candy, a temporary dwelling for the homeless. The owner of this crumbling building was old Mr. Ferguson, who lived in the rooms next to Drew and Candy. Now he sat alone, concealed in the darkness of his room except for a glimmer of light on his face: illumination that came from a hole that he had drilled in the wall and through which he could clearly see the James's bedroom.
He was a short, fatty, sloppy man about fifty-five years old, with a few remaining wisps of hair. Hoping that, as usual, Candy would return late with her husband, he waited with suppressed excitement to watch her take her clothes off, to watch her and her young husband fucking. But tonight he had a special treat, the answer to his prayers actually, for the ravishingly slender blonde girl was completely alone, alone to perform just for him. While he waited for her to finish her bath, he drank periodically from a bottle of cheap Muscatel, the sound of his nasal breathing increasing impatiently as he waited for Candy to appear once more. Suddenly, he held his breath. The bathroom door opened and Drew's wife came into the room.
She was wearing only a thin lacy nightie over her brassiere and panties as she moved into the bedroom, unaware that she was being watched. Quickly she mixed herself another drink and then moved to stand in front of a full-length mirror. Sipping the Scotch, she sighed with contentment as the warmth of the liquid spread through her body, easing the anxiety she felt. Gazing at her sleekly rounded young body, the young wife felt a glow of satisfaction as she realized that her appearance was still as fresh and attractive as when she was a teenager. The strain and tension that she felt within was, to her relief, nowhere apparent from the outside.
I still weigh the same as I did five years ago, she thought to herself, experiencing an odd sort of satisfaction that seemed to mitigate her unhappiness. Of course I really can't tell with this nightie....
On the other side of the wall, old Mr. Ferguson watched as if hypnotized while the slender blonde female slowly untied the ribbons of her nightgown. His heart began to pound furiously as he watched her drop the flimsy garment to the floor so that she stood dressed only in her white brassiere and panties. Unconsciously he let his hand travel down to the stiffened shaft of flesh that throbbed hotly in the crotch of his trousers and began to rub it sensuously as the young girl studied herself in the mirror.
In the bedroom Candy was staring intently at her voluptuous figure, checking scrupulously to make sure she hadn't put on any extra weight. She stood at first with both hands on her hips, her legs slightly spread, while her eyes travelled down to her feet.
It's funny, she thought to herself, my ankles are so slim they don't look as if they'd support me.
Her gaze travelled upwards, lingering momentarily on her calves, then upward to her long firm thighs, pleased that her legs still retained the tapering slenderness she had always been so proud of. The young wife let her hands wander over the silken smoothness of her thighs, then up across the taut flatland of her belly, then moved upwards toward the fully thrusting mounds of her brassiere-encased breasts.
In the other room, concealed in the darkness, Mr. Ferguson gasped as he eagerly watched each sensuous move of the pretty young wife. He was pleased with the fact that he had hit upon the idea of boring a hole in the wall and concealing it with ventilator grills, so that he could watch the erotic performance whenever he wanted. Now, as Candy James stood almost ( naked in the bedroom, he could feel heated waves of lewd desire pulsing in his rigidly straining penis as it thudded against the confines of his constricting trousers. He leered intently through the hole in the wall, periodically drinking from the bottle of wine and barely able to conceal his steadily mounting excitement.
Meanwhile, Candy cupped the full flesh of her breasts in both hands, raising them, pleased that they were so firm and jutted proudly outward, even without the help of the brassiere. Drew had always praised her looks, and particularly her sensuously ripened breasts, and it made the young wife proud and happy to know her curvaceous body pleased her man.
Oh Drew, I wish you were here now, she wished inwardly, as her nipples began to grow taut and tingly from her touch. I wish you were here to caress my breasts with your wonderful hands.
There had always been something special to her about her handsome pianist-husband's hands. It wasn't only that he could make incredibly beautiful music with them, but there was a warmth and sensitivity in his fingers that she felt whenever he touched her. It was almost as if the feelings that he often kept inside of him could come out more easily in his hands. Sometimes, when he ran his hands over her naked body, the pretty blonde girl almost had a complete orgasm from the excitement alone. Now she stood with her eyes half-closed, hardly conscious of what she was doing, remembering all the good times she had shared with her handsome spouse, trying to lose herself in memory. Almost as if in a dream, she reached behind her and unsnapped the hooks that held her brassiere in place. The restraining garment fell to the floor, and as the cool evening air brushed across her naked gleaming breasts, the red buds of her nipples quivered erect, shivering with delight.
Still holding her breasts upright for inspection, Candy moved back a little from the mirror until she backed up against the bed. Her head reeled with thoughts of her young husband, and the effects of the Scotch she had been drinking earlier-combined with her dreamy erotic mood-caused waves of warm desire to ripple through her man-hungry body. Unable to resist the rising spell of excitement, she lay back on the bed, and as she did the coolness of the sheets against the rising warmth of her skin seemed to double the surging sense of passion that was overtaking her.
What am I doing, she thought, half-struggling to resist the delicious mood. I mustn't ... I mustn't....
But there was no resisting the raging thrust of desire that now began to take hold of her so relentlessly. It was as if the frustration she had felt the past few weeks, the unhappiness, the worry, were suddenly swept away in a turbulent ocean of passion. In her mind she imagined her young husband when she first met him, before any of the trouble began. They had been happy then, deliriously happy, and the troubled young wife longed to return to those innocent days only three months before.
"Drew," she murmured, "Oh Drew ... Drew ... "
Unconsciously her hands reached down and began to tug at the elastic waistband of her white bikini panties, pulling the sheer nylon garment down over her hips and legs until finally, she lay on the bed completely naked, moaning her husband's name over and over.
From his hiding place, Mr. Ferguson was racked with a lewd hunger as he watched the voluptuous young blonde remove the last of her underclothing. He gasped loudly as he saw Candy run her slender hands down between her thighs and finally come to rest on the raised mound of softly curling, blonde pubic hair. The old man could scarcely believe what he saw, and his painfully straining cock was responding with all the vigor of raw lust. Suddenly he heard her begin to moan aloud, and his ears strained to catch her words.
"Drew ... Drew ... I want you ... please come to me, my darling ... I've got to have somebody now ... I'll go crazy if I don't ... I need you ... Drew ... I want to be fucked ... I want to be fucked ... I need somebody to fuck me...."
Something seemed to snap in the old man's head as he heard her words. Caught in the grip of an overwhelmingly powerful lust, he rose up from the chair, half-dizzy with obscene excitement and, half-stumbling, ran from his room, drawn as if in a trance to the nakedly writhing young girl in the hotel bedroom.
Meanwhile, unaware of anything but her own uncontrollable passion, Candy thrashed around violently on her bed, her eyes closed tightly as she began to thrust her outstretched fingers in and out of her hotly dilating cunt. With her other hand she massaged her erect little clitoris to a mind-blowing sensitivity. Dream images of her young spouse rose up in her brain like a hallucination of frightening reality. It was almost as if Drew were there with her, pistoning his lust-stiffened penis in and out of her warmly welcoming cunt. Faster and faster Candy fucked her eager fingers up into her wetly throbbing vagina. Rampant flashes of almost unbearable thrills tore through her flailing young body. The shamelessly aroused young wife was so overwhelmed that she didn't hear the door open, nor was she aware that the light had been turned off. All she could see, behind her tightly closed eyes, was her husband. Drew. Soon, however, she became aware that someone else had joined her on the bed, somebody was there with her. Oh God! It was Drew. She was sure. It could be no one else. He had come home to her.
"Oh my darling," she cried, "Oh my God, I need you so muchl AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUUUUUCKKK MEEEEEEEE!"
The words burst from her lips in broken, gasping phrases and her hands clawed at the man's back, pulling him with all her strength against her eagerly reaching hips. The passion-drenched young wife moaned incoherently from deep in her throat as she felt the hotly throbbing head of his cock slowly part the moist lips of her pussy and slip rigidly inside.
"Oh YEEEESSSSSS! OH MY DARLING, HURRY!"
The incoherent young blonde felt a great, roaring heat filling her belly, swelling and expanding the sensuously undulating walls of her vaginal canal as the long hard cock drove up into her cunt like a blazing log. Her mind spun deliriously; whirling pinwheels of color and light blinded her to everything but the raging torrent of desire in her loins. Throwing her frantically kicking legs wide into the air, her fingernails dug into his naked buttocks and aided his pounding rhythm as the man began to thrust into her with savage force. An explosion was building inside of the mindlessly aroused young wife, with each new thrust of his stiff, ramming cock she felt a new wave of ecstasy ripple outward from from deep within her grinding hips.
"UUUUUUUUNNNNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!" she cried wildly, "YEEEEESSSSS! harder, harder! FUCK ME HARDER, DREW!"
Old man Ferguson was nearly berserk from the lewd excitement that rocked through him, and he knew he couldn't hold back his orgasm much longer. He strained against the naked young blonde, driving himself as deeply as he could and trying desperately to hold back as long as possible.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Candy suddenly screamed, "FASTER! FASTER!" Her fingernails raked his back as she strove to reach her torrid climax, "I'M GOING TO CUM SOON ... SOON...."
Candy clung to him, arching her back higher and higher as the impending explosion grew and churned deep in her belly. The lust-crazed female cried over and over like a wounded animal, her face distorted into a mask of unbridled passion. Then, in the next moment, like a blinding, searing thunderbolt, she was there! I'm cumming ... YES ... YEEEESSSSS ... CUUUUUMMMIIINNGG."
At the same time the old man also reached the pinnacle of his desire, and grunting like an animal, he suddenly jetted scalding white streams of his sperm into her body convulsing pussy. His lust-swollen cock jerked within her clasping cuntal walls, each convulsive shudder spewing out new streams of male seed into her hot buttery depths. Candy strained against him, hanging on with all her strength as she throbbed and cried out her own passion. Foaming streams of creamy liquid bubbled out from her hair-lined vaginal hips and rolled down the quivering crevice of her buttocks to the sheets below. Moments later, the roaring tide of her mindless passion ebbed away and Candy fell back against the bed, her head lolling to one side and soft mewling sounds of contentment escaping from her lax mouth. The man collapsed next to her, panting with exhaustion.
"Oh, Drew," the young wife murmured, "thank you so much...."
In the next moment, however, the young blonde wife froze as she began to realize, for the first time, that the man was not her husband!
"My God! MY GOD!" she screamed. "Who are you?"
Hysterically, she jumped from the bed, stumbled across the room to the light switch and flicked it on. The room was suddenly filled with a blinding brightness. Moments later, her eyes adjusted to the glare.
"Oh no ... no ... NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Not believing what her eyes saw, Candy frantically grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her now-trembling body. It was impossible! How could old Mr. Ferguson have come in and ... and fucked her without her realizing it! A violent chill of horror ran through the delirious young wife and she suddenly ran for the dressing table, picking up a huge glass ashtray. Meanwhile the old man hastily began to dress himself.
"Get out of here! GET OUT OF HERE!" the girl screamed, running toward him and aiming the ashtray at his head. But Ferguson quickly ducked, so that the heavy object shattered instead against the bedroom wall. Then, turning, he quickly grabbed the girl's arm and threw her to the bed. Then he stood over her, glowering in triumph.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. James," he sneered, "but when I heard you calling for someone to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours I just couldn't help myself, now could I? And I gave you what you wanted," he added proudly. "I made you cum!"
"You filthy animal," she hissed, her eyes flashing hate, "I'll call the police! I'll have you arrested for rape."
"Now that would be a good one," he replied, laughing cruelly, "an old man like me raping you. More likely the police would believe me when I tell them that you offered yourself to me...."
"I wouldn't ever do that. Ever!"
"Oh ... you might, Mrs. James ... to pay for the back rent you owe me. That happens all the time. But it's much more rare to find old men like me raping hotel guests. Hard to believe, isn't it? But for a pretty young thing to offer her pussy in lieu of payment, well, that's not so unusual."
Tears of anguish formed in Candy's eyes, and though she tried to hold them back it was useless. Soon her body was racked with sobs and she huddled on the bed in terror and anguish.
"What am I going to do?" she moaned piteously.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. It's best not to make any trouble. And besides, I'll just consider your rent paid in full. That will make your husband happy, and that's what you really want, isn't it?" He turned and started for the door, then, at the last minute, turned back to face the miserably weeping young bride. "You know, I always like to help out a young married couple. It gives me a nice warm feeling, deep down inside. Know what I mean?"
CHAPTER TWO
It was five-thirty by the time Drew came home. Candy had lain in the bed wide awake, sobbing and trembling from the time old man Ferguson had left. There was no possibility of sleeping. The old man's rape had been like the climax of misery, one more horrible turn of events, and the unhappy young wife lay confused and numb from the experience. The only ray of hope she had was that at least when her husband came home she could hold him tightly, perhaps even cry a little and gain some measure of comfort. It seemed forever before the hotel room door opened and she saw her young spouse framed in the hall light. Silently she watched him as he lurched into the bed room, trying to appear as if he wasn't drunk. He slammed the door behind him, and his anxious young wife heard him undressing in the dark, clumsily trying to remove his trousers.
"Drew ... turn on the light. I'm not asleep."
"You're ... you're awake? Don't you have to work in the morning?" His voice was thick and fuzzy from the alcohol.
"I was ... I was just waiting for you ... I had a hard time falling asleep." How could she tell him what had happened? It didn't even seem to matter now; all she wanted was to hold him. "Come to me, darling." She held out her arms and he slipped into her embrace, snuggling next to her on the bed like a small child.
"Candy ... I...." His voice was heartbreakingly pathetic.
"Yes, darling. I'm here ... what is it?"
"I ... I just couldn't win. I tried ... I tried as best as I could ... but goddammit, I just couldn't win!"
He seemed so hurt and helpless that his blonde wife's own problems seemed to vanish. She held him closer, trying to soothe away his care.
"Oh darling, don't worry. It doesn't matter. You've lost before ... it just doesn't matter.
It'll all be better in the morning. Believe me, everything's going to be fine."
"Oh ... ooh Candy...." His voice sounded far away, and his wife knew he was drifting into a heavy, drunken sleep. "I ... I'm so ashamed ... I ... tried ... I really tried...."
Candy was awake at ten, and when she came out of the kitchen with morning coffee she was surprised to find her young husband already awake and sitting at the table.
"Oh honey, why don't you just sleep for the whole morning. You look exhausted."
"Candy, I have to talk to you about something."
The blonde bride set the coffee down, poured two cups, then sat across from him. The tone of his voice disturbed her; there was an edge of panic in it that she noticed right away, and his face seemed ashen, as if something was really wrong.
"What is it, darling?"
"Something ... something happened last night. I don't even know how it happened. Maybe all the goddamned booze or something ... or the excitement...."
He was trying to be calm, but his hand was shaking so much that he spilled coffee every time he raised the cup to his lips. Candy felt her heart begin to beat heavily in her chest in anticipation of what he was going to say.
"Tell me Drew ... what happened?"
"It's ... it's the gambling...."
"I thought you were winning last night? When I left...."
"Yes, I was winning ... for a while. But ... I don't know ... my luck just seemed to change. I had three thousand dollars right in my hand ... three thousand dollars! Then ... my luck just changed. I started to lose with every spin of the wheel. I started losing. I tried everything but nothing worked. Goddammit, nothing worked! Everybody kept patting me on the back and telling me I was just on a losing streak, that it would change. Even Lou ... hell, he kept giving me more and more chips to play."
The young bride began to get frightened. There was a painful look deep in her husband's eyes, and she knew instinctively that something terrible had happened at the gambling table. And when he mentioned Lou Grady, she was convinced that her husband was in trouble.
"Where did the chips come from, Drew? The ones that Lou kept giving you. Where did the money come from?"
"It was Lou's money...."
Candy held her breath and the tips of her fingers grew cold as ice. "How much ... how much was it?" There was a long silence as Drew put his head in his hands, shaking it slowly from side to side. Finally he mumbled something, but it was too low to hear.
"I can't hear you, Drew."
"It was ... six thousand dollars, and ... I've got to pay it back ... today!"
Candy couldn't believe what he said, and at first she just stared at him as if he hadn't said a thing. But slowly the enormity of the sum hit her like a ton of bricks.
"Oh my God! My God!" she said, her voice shaking with disbelief. "How could you do it? How? We haven't got enough money to buy groceries! How are we ever going to pay back six thousand dollars! Oh my God ... Drew!"
Suddenly her anxious young husband rose up from the table, and he stumbled over to his wife, kneeling before her and burying his face in her lap.
"I'm sorry, honey, I'm so sorry ... so sorry...."
She could feel him trembling against her, holding her tightly, begging for help. But her mind was still stunned by the revelation of how much he had lost at the tables. It was more money than she had ever remotely had at one time in her life. How could they ever pay it back? Neither of their parents had any money at all, and there was nobody left to borrow from.
"I don't know how it happened ... He pulled away from her, his eyes wild with confusion, as the words came tumbling out of him. "It was all going so well ... honey, Lou told me he has a contract from Arcade Records. They want to sign me to a big contract, big advance, everything. I couldn't wait to tell you, I was so goddamned happy. It's the chance we've been waiting for ... and then I screwed the whole thing up ... threw it all away with a few spins of the wheel."
"But ... but Drew, what do you mean? If you have a contract with Arcade Becords, that means you can pay Lou back. There's no question of it!"
"No ... it's funny. I said that to Lou ... but ... I don't know, he got kind of crazy and said that it was no soap, that he was tired of waiting around for me to get it together."
"What? I don't understand? Drew, that doesn't make sense to me; he's your agent. He knows you're going to make big money for him. Why does he want the money today?"
"How the hell do I know? All I know is he said if I didn't pay him back, he'd have ... he'd have Carlos work me over."
"Carlos? You mean ... Mr. Haver's bodyguard?" At once an image flashed into the young wife's mind of the huge Puerto Rican bodyguard who worked for Walter Haver, the owner of the Star Club, and it was rumored, a businessman worth millions. Carlos was over six feet tall, every inch packed with muscle like a steel machine.
"Lou said ... that if I didn't get smart and pay up, he'd have Carlos ... break every finger in both my hands."
A stab of pain, as sharp as if she'd been slashed with a knife, tore through Candy as he spoke. If Drew's hands were broken, it would mean the end of everything. His career would be ruined, and she knew, he would be destroyed as a human being. His music, his piano playing, meant everything to him, and to her as well.
"Honey," the young husband said nervously "I don't know what to do. I think these guys are gangsters ... really big-time gangsters, and I'm afraid now what they'll do to me. I didn't realize it at first; I thought ... hell, Lou was going to make me a star, everything was fine. I didn't even think anything about the Annex, and the gambling, or wonder why the cops didn't bother them ... it all just seemed like a terrific dream come true. But, my God, it's awful."
"Yes ... yes," his blonde spouse murmured numbly, "it is awful."
They sat quietly for several moments, the room darkened except for a brilliant shaft of sunlight that came through a half-opened window. Candy's mind spun in anxious turmoil. First it had been the old man the night before and now it was this. Her entire world was falling away like a pack of cards; everything she had hoped for, believed in, was over-finished, like a horrible nightmare suddenly come true.
"Drew," she said almost listlessly, "what are we going to do?"
"Candy ... there ... there might be a way out" There was something in his tone of voice that made his young wife grow suspicious, for she instinctively sensed that he had thought about what he was going to say right now; there was a falseness in his emotion that she recognized right away. "Honey, maybe if you talked to Grady ... tell him to let me have more time ... maybe until after I've got that record contract...."
Candy stiffened and drew slightly away from her clinging young husband.
"Drew ... what are you asking me to do?
You know how I feel about Lou Grady ... and you know how he feels about me."
"Jesus, what are you thinking of?" he asked, with a slightly wounded tone to his voice. "My God, I don't want you to pull any funny business with him; what kind of a man do you think I am? Just ... just talk to him ... you know, with tears and stuff ... you know how men are; they can't refuse a woman who's crying. Lou's got to give in! I know he will! Just get him to give me that contract and wait a while for the money. I can't do a thing with the guy, but I know you could! He's a pushover! Candy ... for me ... please ... it's ... it's our only chance."
His wife watched him carefully and saw that there were tears forming in his eyes. She wondered if they were real or not, whether her husband was "performing" to get her to get him out of a tight spot. Did he really think that Lou Grady wouldn't want more than a few tears and a little pleading to satisfy him?
Drew seemed to sense what his wife was thinking, and he changed his tone with her.
"Look, I'm not going to pretend that Lou wouldn't gladly jump in the sack with you, but I'm certain you can stall him just until he gives me the contract to sign. Then, once I get a copy of it, it won't matter what he wants."
Candy looked at him. His voice was stronger, and for the first time, she felt he was being honest with her.
"Don't you see, baby? Once I have that contract, I've got the connection with the record company, and if he tries to make trouble, I'll raise such a big stink that the publicity alone will cover us, take us right where we want to go. Grady and Haver aren't that big. Once I'm known, they wouldn't dare try anything; I'm sure of it."
"I'm ... I'm not so sure, Drew..
"Candy ... it's our only chance."
The young blonde wife looked away from the pleading eyes of her pianist-husband, staring for a long time at a water-stain on the wall. Everything that had happened in the past two days seemed totally unreal, a bizarre hallucination, and she couldn't think clearly any more. Her husband was asking her to do something that instinctively she felt was wrong. But there was no other way. Maybe ... just maybe she could do it, manage to stall Grady long enough at least to give them some time to get the money. And with a little luck maybe she could even get that contract. It was a long shot, but there was no alternative. Finally, she took her husband's hand.
"All right ... I'll try. I'll do what I can."
"Thanks honey ... thanks a million."
Candy went to work that day as usual at the Star Club, working the hat-check concession for the twelve to eight shift. She tried to think of different approaches to Grady, stories she could tell him to play on his sympathy, but she finally decided that the best thing to do would be to play it fairly straight and hope that the man's desire for her was great enough to keep him satisfied with promises for the future. Finally, at about four-thirty, at the time when there were few customers, he came in. Seeing him, the young blonde wife's heart sank, for there was that old deep feeling of dislike she had for him, particularly him dressed in a black silk suit, black shirt and white tie. At first he didn't even glance her way, almost as if he knew she wanted to see him, but finally he came sauntering by the hat-check concession.
"Hi, baby, how's it goin' today?"
"Oh, same as usual. It's always slow between lunch and dinner." She tried to keep her voice as steady as possible.
"Guess Drew came home pretty late last night. Hope it didn't make you mad. I know how it is when a guy comes home late, and the wife gets all upset,"
"Well, I do my best to try and understand my husband. You and he had quite a time, from what he told me."
"He told you, did he?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you everything?"
"You mean ... about the money?"
"Yeah. The money. My money."
He leaned over the counter and stared into Candy's green eyes.
"Yes ... I ... I know ... he said ... he said it was quite a lot."
"Yeah. Six thousand bucks."
"Lou ... you know that's an awful lot of money, and...."
"Yeah, to you and Lou it's a lot, but for me it ain't so much. Still, a debt is a debt."
He let his hand rest on the counter separating them and began drawing lazy circles on the shiny surface.
"Lou ... I want to talk to you. ..."
"Has Drew got the money for me like he said?"
At first the pianist's wife thought of giving the hulking agent a story about her family sending her the money, but she knew it wouldn't work. He knew she came from poor people, just like he did.
"No, he doesn't have it, Lou." Slowly, she let her hand also fall to the counter and edge very slowly toward his. "Lou, isn't there some way you can give Drew a little more time ... at least ... at least until the contract is signed...."
Grady looked at her sharply and a slow smile spread on his thick lips.
"So, he told you about the contract, huh?" He moved his hand closer to hers until they were finally touching. Slowly, very slowly, he rubbed his fingers lightly against her hand. "Great, isn't it? Arcade Records. Big time, you know. Maybe put out a record of old favorites; that stuff's sellin' real big now, music for dancing and ... romance...." His hand closed suddenly over hers and he held it tightly, too tightly.
"Lou, I ... you're hurting me."
"Oh, sorry, baby, I'd never want to hurt you. You got such pretty hands. Drew's got nice hands, too. Be a shame if anything happened to them, you know?"
Candy felt a chill go through her at his words, and a light film of sweat broke out on her forehead. Finally, Lou released his grip on her hand and instead began stroking it lightly, suggestively.
"Lou, can't we talk it over ... the contract means so much to Drew, and...."
"Sure we can talk it over, baby," he said, smiling. "Why don't you meet me upstairs when you're finished. In Mr. Haver's private suite."
"That'd be fine, Lou..
"Good. I'll look forward to it baby." Sud denly, without warning, he reached up and fully grabbed the supple curve of her left breast, pressing his palm against the white blouse she wore. Then, just as suddenly, he pulled his hand away, smiled slyly, turned and walked away.
At eight, Candy was relieved at the hatcheck concession by the girl who worked the late shift, and the troubled young wife went into the back room to change from her uniform into a modest, yet revealing dress. She had decided that, while she didn't want to "come on" to Lou, she could at least flirt a little, hopefully to bait him just enough to give her whit she wanted. Looking at herself in a full-length mirror, she was pleased at the way the dark green A-line dress molded to the firm curves of her slim young body.
Maybe, she thought to herself, maybe it's time to use what I have to help Drew and me get someplace. Maybe I've been too prim and proper all this time. Of course, I don't want to go too far, but maybe I can go just far enough to get us out of this mess.
The pianist's wife was feeling surprisingly confident, and carefully she began to touch up her makeup. After a few moments there was a knock on the door, and opening it, she came face to face with Carlos, Walter Haver's personal bodyguard. Moving back, she let him come into the room.
Carlos del Valle was an impressive, even terrifying example of masculinity. At age 24, he had been "discovered" by Mr. Haver on a vacation trip to Puerto Rico and had been brought back to Chicago to be Haver's personal bodyguard. He was six feet six inches tall with a noble, almost aristocratic, dark-skinned face set off by two flashing coal-black eyes. His hair was a mass of ebony curls, gleaming with the light oil he always used to groom it. His shoulders and chest were massive, thanks to extensive body-building work, with bulging muscles swollen with exercise. His waist tapered into a surprising narrowness, but his legs were strong and powerful, two thick pillars that supported his impressive frame. He was dressed, as usual, in a clinging white turtleneck jersey that emphasized his rippling physique and a pair of skin-tight electric-blue silk trousers with an enormous bulge in the crotch that always made Drew's wife blush slightly when she glanced at it. There was no doubt that he was a formidable man, and his prowess as a bodyguard was undisputed. Everyone at the Star Club held him in awe and fear, terrified of being his victim.
"Meesus James," he said, speaking in a surprisingly gentle low-pitched voice with a strong Spanish accent, "Meester Grady says he wants to see you now."
"I ... I was just coming," the young wife replied, unable to keep from momentarily glancing at the out-lined male flesh in his trousers. Candy remembered the night a drunk and irate customer had taken a swing at Haver. Carlos had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed the man's fist in midair and crushed it with his own hand until the man had screamed and fainted. Then the huge Puerto Rican had picked him up like a toy and carried him outside to stuff him upside down in the sports-car the doorman had brought around.
Now Carlos signaled to her to follow him, and dutifully Drew's wife let him lead her to the elevator. He pushed a button and the elevator rose silently to the third floor where Walter Haver had his private suite. Stepping out, the dark-skinned giant rang the doorbell next to the set of wide, solid mahogany double doors. Lou Grady answered a few moments later, ushering them in with a broad smile on his face.
"Glad to see you honey, come right in."
Candy found herself in a spacious living room, decorated in expensive Danish modern, bright colors everywhere and a huge bar in one corner. A vast window looked out on the glittering Chicago skyline.
"How about a little drink, kid?" he said, "before we get down to business?"
Without waiting for an answer, he motioned to Carlos who immediately went to the bar and began mixing drinks.
"Sit down, Candy," Lou said, indicating a large black leather sofa. The young wife sat as demurely as she could, trying to mask her nervousness. Grady sat across from her in a matching leather lounge chair. Soon the massive Latin bodyguard brought two tall drinks, gave one to Drew's wife and to Grady, then retired to a stool at the bar. There was no sound in the room except the clinking of ice cubes and the soft music coming from a hidden sound system.
"Don't be nervous, honey," the balding agent said solicitously, "just drink up and relax. Everything's going to be fine." Both sipped quietly for a moment on the drinks, and then Lou got up.
"I'm just gonna freshen up a little, baby," he said. "Get outta this damn suit and into something more comfortable. Be right back."
Candy felt a little better after he disappeared into another room, and she drank almost greedily from her drink. Carlos quickly gave her a second one as soon as she finished the first. The drink seemed to calm her down a bit, and she settled back into the soft plushness of the leather soft. The pretty blonde felt considerably more confident now, so confident that she hadn't noticed the unusual care that Carlos had taken in mixing the drink, nor did she notice the small amount of strange clear liquid that he had used to augment the frosty drink.
A few moments later Lou Grady returned, having changed into a full-length red silk Japanese lounging robe. This time he settled himself on the couch next to Candy, and the pianist's wife could smell the heavy, sweet cologne he had liberally used on himself. Obviously the stocky agent was preparing himself for much more than Candy intended to offer, and the young bride hoped she hadn't let herself in for more than she bargained for.
"Shall we talk about Drew's contract?" Grady began, accepting a drink from Carlos. "And about the money he owes me?"
As he spoke, Candy found herself feeling somewhat strange. She had a hard time focussing her eyes, and her lips seemed a little numb. She tried to concentrate, but found her mind kept wandering away. It was only with great effort that she was able to understand Grady as he spoke to her.
"So tell me, baby-where's Drew gonna get that bread he owes me? Huh?"
"I ... I don't know, Lou. Honestly, don't you think you could give him a little more time?
Is it so important that he pay you right away?"
"Yeah, it's important to me. The kid's gotta learn how to handle himself if he wants to make it in this business. If he's gonna throw money around like that, particularly if it ain't his own, he's gonna get into big trouble, and maybe with guys who ain't so understanding as I am. He's gotta learn his lesson; that's all." Grady watched with sly amusement as Candy glanced down miserably into her drink. "Ah, but listen honey; I got a soft heart. I'm gonna make you a proposition."
Drew's wife stiffened slightly in anticipation.
"A ... a proposition? What do you mean?"
"Well, just that I'm gonna give you an opportunity to win back what Drew lost. That is, if you're willing to take a gamble."
"I ... I don't understand."
'You will. Carlos, mix the little lady another drink, will you?" He stood up, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, I'll show you.
Trembling nervously, Candy followed the short, heavy-set agent into the next room. It was a large and beautifully decorated bedroom. Like the living room, it was decorated in luxurious modern design. One wall was completely covered with a smoky glass mirror; another was all windows, again opening onto the Chicago night scene. In the center of the room was a huge circular bed, covered with a gold silk coverlet. The entire room, save for gold trim, was completely black. An enormous roulette table stood near the bed and some slot machines.
"Nice place, huh?" Grady remarked as Carlos handed Candy a third drink. "He always lets me use it when he's away on business. That roulette table is inlaid with ivory."
"Yes ... yes, it's very nice," the young blonde bride said, feeling strangely warm and faintly dizzy. "But what does this have to do with me?"
"Simple. We're going to gamble at the table, just like Drew did last night. Let's see if your luck is any better. All you have to do is pick your color. If you win, the debt is cancelled and the contract is yours."
"And ... and what happens if I lose?" She had trouble getting the words out; there was a strange reaction going on in her mind and body that she didn't understand.
In response to her question, the husky agent walked over to her and traced his finger along the edge of her chin.
-"If you lose ... then I get the prize, Candy. The big prize. That nice furry little pussy you got between your legs. Fair enough?"
His words sent a shiver of shock and fear through the slim young blonde, and she tried to back away from him, but he quickly gripped her shoulder with his hand, pulling her closer to him. The smell of his heavy cologne made her even more dizzy, and she had to suppress a cry of alarm. Despite her anxiety, his touch sent a vibration like high-voltage electricity through her trembling body, and her skin tingled with an odd kind of excitement.
My God, she thought, what's happening to me?
"Don't be shocked, baby," he said soothingly, "you know I've always had a yen for you. And I ain't so bad, am I? Maybe I ain't got Drew's talent, but I got my own charm, don't you think?"
"Lou ... Lou ... I can't ... it would be wrong. I'm Drew's wife ... I've never...."
"Well, there's always a first time, you know. Besides, there's a fifty-fifty chance you'll win. Those are pretty good odds. And I'll tell you what ... even if you lose, I'll knock off a couple of grand from the debt ... and no pressure about paying it right away ... and there's still that contract. Now that ain't so bad, is it? Fair deal, huh?"
He put down his drink and held her with both hands, gently fondling her shoulders and gazing with desire into her sea-green eyes.
Candy swayed in the strength of his hands holding her. Despite her hatred for Grady, she knew that the only chance for her and Drew was to go through with it. And besides, maybe she would win! In one single turn of the wheel she could wipe away the whole horrible ugly mess, and then she and her man could make a whole new start together away from the sordidness of the Star Club. Suddenly her brain seemed to reel slightly out of control and she had trouble concentrating, a cloudiness seemed to fog her vision.
"Well Candy? What do you say?"
Grady let his hands travel down from her shoulders and come to rest on the proudly thrusting mounds of her breasts. Slowly he began to fondle them while a steady throb began to pound in his genitals.
Candy winced, and her lips contorted slightly from the combination of the drink and another man's hands touching her body. It was horrible to have someone other than Drew caressing her that way. In that moment she recalled with a shiver of fright the humiliation she had experienced at the hands of old man Ferguson, and now this! She couldn't go through it again; she just couldn't. Yet, at the same time, she knew she had no choice. Both her life and Drew's depended on her going through to the end.
"It's so easy, baby," Grady was saying, his voice sounding faraway and echo-like, "if the little ball lands on your color, you win. If it lands on mine? Well ... then I get to ram it up your hole. Okay?"
"You ... you don't have to be so vulgar," Drew's wife retorted suddenly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
"I ain't so vulgar as some people, baby. You're gettin' off easy. I could just have Carlos crack your husband's fingers instead of goin' through all this. Your pussy ain't made of gold, you know. It ain't that special."
The anxious young wife shivered once more in revulsion at the thought of the obscene agent touching her nakedly defenseless flesh. It was too horrible to contemplate. Finally she decided to stop thinking about it; it only made things worse. She couldn't let Drew down; she had to go through with it. And besides ... maybe she would win! Just maybe....
"One turn of the wheel Candy, and it's all yours," he goaded her, "you and Drew free and clear. It's practically in your hand, honey."
Finally Candy looked at him squarely in the eyes for the first time that evening and brushed a strand of platinum blonde hair away from her eyes.
"All right, Lou ... I'll do it." Grady grinned triumphantly and turned her toward the waiting table. He had lusted after the pianist's innocent young wife for a long time, and now it had finally arrived. He smiled inwardly also at the secret thought that by the time they had finished the game, she would be ready for anything he wanted to do to her. Carlos had been doctoring her drinks carefully with a special drug from Puerto Rico, an aphrodisiac that was impossible to resist. The effects were already visible in the slightly dizzy blonde girl, and he sensed the telltale tremors of excitement in her voluptuous body when he had been fondling her breasts moments before. It wouldn't be much longer, he knew, before she felt the full force of it. The corrupt agent licked his lips in anticipation as, walking behind her, he watched the sensuous swaying of her smoothly rounded ass cheeks.
Man, oh man, he thought lasciviously; I can't wait to stuff my prick up into that sweet little cunt of hers.
Candy sat down on one of the stools at the roulette table, feeling strangely weak, and yet somehow warm and alive as well. She attributed it to the tension and the certainty she harbored in the back of her mind that she would win. She had to!
"What'll it be, Candy, red or black?"
Carlos stood nearby, waiting for the ravishing blonde's answer. His hand was poised at a panel of concealed buttons that controlled the glittering wheel. If the weight of the ball depressed the wrong color in one of the grooves, the metal rib that separated the red and black would lower just long enough to allow the ball to move over one color. With the wheel still spinning, it was virtually impossible to detect.
"Well, baby? What's it gonna be? Pick your lucky color."
Candy hesitated a minute before answering.
"Red," she said finally. I'll take red."
Carlos quickly pushed the button with the small "B" in the center and moved away from the wall.
"Then that makes me black," Grady said jauntily. Tell you what; why don't we have Carlos here spin the wheel; that way neither of us can cheat."
He moved around next to her and dropped his hand to her thigh. As he moved it all the way up until it was nestled firmly between the juncture of her legs, Candy felt a violent, trembling sensation akin to sexual hunger racing through her.
What's the matter with me? she thought in panic. He touched me and it's arousing me! I can't stand the sight of him ... and yet ... his hands feel so good.
Grady felt the hot moistness of her skin, felt her move beneath his hand and knew then that the drinks were truly taking effect. It wouldn't be long now. He'd have the luscious Mrs. Drew James exactly where he wanted her.
The confused, drugged blonde tried to tear her thoughts away from the strangely erotic feelings that Grady was triggering in her drugged body. She forced her eyes to concentrate as the dark-skinned bodyguard nodded to both of them and casually spun the wheel. At first she could see nothing but an indistinguishable blur, but then as the silvery wheel slowed, she could hear the whirring of the ball turn into clicking as it clacked against the metal grooves. The ball went slower and slower until it started rolling toward the center of the spinning wheel; then it finally stopped.
"Eeet's green!" Carlos remarked, surprising them both.
Grady almost choked on his drink when he realized that the ball had settled into one of the two green grooves fn the wheel. Clearing his throat, he told Carlos to spin again. Looking quickly at Candy, he noticed the glassy-eyed expression on her face. He knew with total certainty now that the drug was working, and he smugly burrowed his hand deeper up between the girl's full firm thighs and the wheel turned once more.
Drew's wife watched intently at the wheel, but her body seemed to be responding out of her control to the agent's every touch. She couldn't seem to resist and found herself involuntarily spreading her legs so that he could touch the silken band of her panties running down between her legs. It felt so good, so incredibly good, that she didn't think to question what was happening. Instead, the drugged young wife squirmed sensuously beneath his touch, craving more of the delicious sensations that were spreading so obscenely through her body. Suddenly she was snapped out of her erotic haze when she heard Carlos announce the winner:
"Black. Black ees the winner!"
The tips of her fingers turned suddenly cold as she watched the wheel stop turning and could see the silver ball nestled in the long triangle of black lacquer. Yet, despite the loss and the fate she knew was certainly in store for her, it didn't seem to matter any longer. Grady's hand, pressed so hotly and lewdly between her legs, had aroused a maelstrom of hungering excitement throughout her helplessly responding body. Slowly, her brain began to grow more and more foggy as if the young wife was being enveloped in a dream. She wasn't even conscious of being picked up like a rag doll by the muscular Puerto Rican as he carried her to the bed. The drug had taken her over completely so that she was only a quivering mass of sexstarved female flesh.
The pianist's young wife lay on the silky cover of the bed, floating on a euphoric cloud of pleasure; a thousand hands seemed to be touching her everywhere at once, and she could dimly sense the clothes being removed from her body. Vaguely, somewhere in the deepest recesses of her consciousness, she knew she should be terrified, that she should struggle and resist, but she didn't care. She could only helplessly surrender to the flowing tide of sensuous pleasure that washed over her in waves of delight.
Grady knelt at the edge of the circular bed, running the tips of his fingers caressingly down the velvet undersides of her naked thighs. Then slowly and with obscene delight, he pulled the sheer nylons from her long, tapered legs, breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with desire.
Carlos had carefully removed her dress, and now, raising her slightly, the dark-skinned bodyguard unhooked the fasteners of her brassiere and carefully pulled it away, tossing it to the floor. Both men grinned in obscene appreciation as they saw for the first time the unbelievable fullness of her rose-tipped white breasts. Then with a conspiratorial smile, they each moved to one side of her to remove the last article of clothing: the flower-patterned, white silk bikini panties. Slowly, almost ritualistically, they hooked their fingers into the tight elastic waistband and then slowly eased the flimsy garment down over the full swell of her hips and peeled the material away from the wetly matted mound of golden pussy hair nestled up between her thighs. Unconsciously, Candy arched her back, trying, in her drug-clouded state, to help them as much as she could. Finally, they pulled the wispy thin panties down the long curving smoothness of her legs until the underwear swung free of her feet. Finally, the garment was tossed onto the pile of clothes on the floor.
Moving almost simultaneously, they began to run their hands over the softly glistening curves of her ripely developed young body, sliding their fingers across the satiny flesh of her sloping shoulders, sensuously moving down each arm and then across the thrusting expanse of her naked breasts.
"Mmmmnnn!" the semiconscious young wife moaned, her tongue darting back and forth to moisten the dryness of her lips. Her body began to tremble as two pairs of male lips began to nibble lewdly at the berry-like buds of her nipples. Hands and mouths, hot and wet, seemed to be everywhere, surrounding her, sliding across the almost-unbearable sensitivity of her erotically tingling skin. "Oooohh yeeesss
...." she groaned uncontrollably, "it feels so goood!"
Grady moved back then, allowing Carlos to continue fondling the nakedly exposed body of the pianist's wife while he hurriedly began to undress. In seconds, he was dropping his shorts to reveal his long, thick cock pulsating in eager anticipation. His cum-swollen balls beneath were aching with lust as he motioned for the big bodyguard to also undress. As Carlos hastened to obey, the naked agent forced Candy's legs wide apart, and with a cry of obscene desire, suddenly buried his face in her softly curling pussy hair. A second later, he thrust his tongue deep up inside her wetly heated cunt.
"Aaaaggghh!"
Drew's young bride was half-mad with passion now, making strange, guttural noises as she tried to reach the. man's head with her hands, trying to hold him there. She had never experienced such overwhelming excitement in her entire life. She didn't believe it was possible. She could feel Grady's long, wetly licking tongue probing and darting into the nerve-filled recesses of her tingling cunt, could feel him take the passion-hardened bud of her sensitive little clitoris between his teeth and nibble at it, sending wave after wave of lewd pleasure shooting through her helplessly writhing young body.
The massive Puerto Rican quickly finished undressing, and his powerful body gleamed in the soft light of the luxurious bedroom as he came back to the bed to join the naked couple. His huge, rigidly thickened cock was swaying stiffly like a steel crane, and his balls bulged tightly beneath as he took the drugged young wife's wildly trembling legs and spread them wider apart so that the pudgy agent could burrow his mouth and tongue even deeper into her gaping hair-rimmed vaginal opening.
Candy's mind and senses were reeling in a whirlpool of passion and forbidden desire. Flames of lewd pleasure rose searingly between her splayed thighs as Grady's tongue probed deeper and deeper into the sweet, throbbing heat of her pussy. Her arms flailed wildly and her hips churned violently in drug-spurred lust as she shamelessly offered up her secret flesh to anyone who would take it.
"Deeper! Stick your tongue in deeper!" she cried over and over, scarcely believing the erotic sensations that enveloped her from head to foot when her husband's business agent grasped the sensitive shaft of her clitoris between his teeth and tongue and rolled it salaciously around in his mouth. Suddenly, she was groaning loudly in disappointment as a cool rush of air passed over her wildly excited pussy. Oh God! Grady had pulled away just as she was reaching for a climax!
Carlos continued to hold the drugged young bride's legs wide apart while the unscrupulous agent quickly repositioned himself in the sixty-nine position over Candy's exposed nakedness so that he straddled her face with his knees. With an obscene moan of hunger, he buried his face once more in the succulent moist warmth of her pussy.
Drew's wife felt something brush across her face, and opening her eyes, saw Lou Grady's huge swolen penis only inches from her lips. The startled blonde gasped at the size of it, almost crying out in fear as he once more plunged his tongue hotly down, sliding it inside her madly throbbing pussy. But then, driven wild by the aphrodisiac, she curled her hands greedily in between his legs and reached for his thickly pulsating rod of male flesh. Raising her head, she ovaled her mouth wide and encircled it with the heated warmth of her lips, trying to draw its entire length into her lust-hungry mouth. Pulling it inside, she began to suck on his penis eagerly, as a child sucks on a lollipop, running her tongue feverishly up and down the soft underside, thrilling as it throbbed and pulsed to her oral ministrations. Tiny fires kept exploding with blinding ferocity in her brain as Grady began to thrust his hotly throbbing shaft in and out of the soft wet heat of her mouth in unison with the strokes of his tongue fucking in and out of her cunt below.
Suddenly, the pianist's drugged wife began to gasp and make little animal-like sounds. There was a fresh, even stronger burst of pleasure in her cuntal passage, resounding waves of an obscene passion that crashed inside her churning cunt like a tempestuous ocean in a storm. Her lips and tongue stopped their greedy sucking of the agent's long thick cock as she felt her climax raging toward a fiery threshold. When she stopped sucking, however, Grady pulled his mouth away. Immediately getting the message and surrendering to the onslaught of a mindless passion, the quivering young girl began to suck the hotly throbbing thickness of his cock with all her might. Her cheeks hollowed and swelled, and her belly rose and fell frantically as her abdominal and vaginal muscles pulled at his tongue. A violent explosion was beginning deep inside of her womb, and in the next moment it happened! Her orgasm erupted, exploded in blinding, searing flashes of uncontrollable pleasure. At the same time, because of her increased sucking, Grady, too, reached orgasm and suddenly hot gushes of his foaming sperm spurted into the voraciously sucking young wife's mouth. "UUUNNNGGGHHH!" the stocky agent groaned into Candy's wetly convulsing vagina, "AAANNNGGGHHH! Suck you bitch. Take it all! Suck ... suck!"
Moments later, as their passion began to abate, Lou pulled away from her, collapsing on the bed near the exhausted young wife. Candy lay half-unconscious, trying to control the quivering in her legs, feeling as if she was enveloped in a soft cocoon of darkness and warmth-calming her and allowing her to drift off into a pleasant state of unknowing peace. Dimly she heard Grady speak.
"Okay Carlos, it's your turn now. Show her how they do things in your country, eh, amigo."
Grinning lewdly, Carlos began to run his hands over the sweat-streaked body of the ravishing blonde girl as he knelt between her widely stretched legs. Grady watched with lewd interest, excited by the contrast of the dark-skinned Puerto Rican's body against the unblemished whiteness of Candy's slender frame. He smiled softly to himself, knowing that by the time the Latin bodyguard got through with her and she regained consciousness, she would be so shamed and humiliated at what she had done that she would never resist him or any demands he wanted to make on her again. And that stupid ass of a husband of hers wouldn't object to a thing. He was too weak to do anything! Chuckling, the agent hurried to the bathroom to take a fast shower.
Candy lay on the bed and submitted willingly to the ministrations of the powerful bodyguard's hands as he massaged and kneaded every inch of her naked flesh: her thighs, her hips, her proud young breasts. Her nipples blushed, then hardened once more as he cupped the ivory fullness of her breasts between his two huge palms, making ripples of new desire tingle through her drugged nervous system. She strained to open her eyes, heavy from the aphrodisiac, so that she could watch the gentleness of the man who was giving her so much pleasure. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, and then she saw him over the swelling curves of her breasts. She saw his hands, the big powerful shoulders and chest and the glistening milk-chocolate darkness of his skin. She hadn't realized that it was Carlos, and for a moment she was terrified, terrified of his strangeness, his darkness ... but then in the next second her fears were washed away by another wave of ecstasy as his hands moved down her body to cup the raised triangular mound up between her legs. He sat at her side now while his hands caressed and molded the sparse, hair-covered mound between her legs as if he was trying to change its shape. Drew's young wife stared in fascination at the broad expanse of his flawlessly muscled back, watching the hard flesh ripple as he moved. Then as he moved his hands tenderly down her sensitive inner thighs, she threw her head back, moaning, closing her eyes once more and reveling in the delicious sensations that raced through her sex-crazed body.
"Don't be afraid, Meessus James," he murmured.
She started to answer him, to tell him that she wasn't afraid, that all she wanted was for him never to stop giving her such exciting pleasure with his warm gentle hands, but no words came because a new wave of trembling desire began to rush through her. Instinctively she reached out her hands and began to explore the giant bodyguard's powerful body. She caressed the furry hardness of his chest, the rippling washboard muscles of his stomach and then finally down until her hands touched the wiry curls of black pubic hair. In the next moment, her fingers enclosed the gigantic throbbing shaft that rose from the center of his loins.
My God! she thought in her drug-induced delirium, I'll never be able to take him. It's so ... so enormous! But she couldn't resist touching the massively swollen cock, and she ran her hand up and down the entire length of it, trying to encircle it with her fingers. But they wouldn't close all the way around itl As she scratched her fingernails across the pulsating hardness of his .upward-jutting penis, it seemed to grow even larger, not steadily, but in a series of slightly jerking motions. Finally, the young bride couldn't wait any longer.
"Carlos," she pleaded, "do it to me ... I want you to come into me ... do it to me, oh God please ... please!"
As she spoke, the dark-skinned Puerto Rican began to slide over on top of her wantonly writhing body and positioned himself between her open thighs. Arching her hair-covered cunt hungrily up to greet him, Candy spread her legs wide, drew her knees up until they touched her breasts and tried to open herself as wide as possible to accept his thick rigid penis that he was slowly lowering toward her wetly pulsing cuntal entrance. Reaching down with her hands, she began to guide him into her, a mixture of fear and desire rippling through her entire being.
"It's so big ... I'm afraid ... I'm afraid I can't take it!"
The words came tumbling out almost incoherently as she tried momentarily to stop him, but it was too late. The giant bodyguard was not going to let her go now.
"Don't you worry, Senora, Carlos won't hurt you," he grinned down at her, "I take it real easy ... nice and easy...."
He lowered himself with the aid of her trembling hands until the smooth rubbery head of his cock touched the moistly heated layers of flesh up between her legs. She felt the long hard shaft begin to part her quivering vaginal slit and insinuate its way between the wide-stretched lips of her pussy already lubricated by the flowing juices of her shamelessly aroused body.
The pianist's young bride groaned, for her entire insides seemed to be stretching and expanding to receive him. There wasn't much pain at first, just a straining belt of tightness spreading through her loins. But then it began to hurt her.
"Nooo ... Nnnooo," she cried in agony. "I can't stand it, it's too much ... Nnooo!!" She screamed in pain over and over again, twisting and writhing beneath him as though he were impaling her with a hard blunt knife. Then just when she thought it would never end, the pain gradually subsided and was replaced with a renewed flood of lustful desire. Carlos thrust his pulsating hardness deeper into her, but so slowly that the increase was almost imperceptible, and the pain that would have otherwise been torturous was erased by the hot slippery liquids oozing from the walls of Candy's frantically aroused pussy.
Still, though, the huge Puerto Rican's cock was too monstrous for her, and he found that he was unable to completely bury his lust-swollen penis all the way down into the straining cuntal cavity. When he found that he had probed as far as he could go up into her belly, there still remained almost two inches of his massive rod of masculinity outside her.
The impaled young blonde held her knees spread apart as far as possible and raised her hips even higher, desperately trying to absorb more of his massive masculinity, but it was no use. Carlos remained motionless for a few seconds, allowing her inexperienced body to become accustomed to the huge shaft skewering her cunt, but she began to claw at his back, pleading for him to move within her.
"Oh please fuck me now, Carlos. Now! I want you to fuck me now. PLEASE!" Her words spurred him immediately into action. With a deep-throated grunt he began to thrust himself into her with great powerful strokes. She strained and squirmed against his thickened hardness as it pounded relentlessly deeper and deeper up into her lewdly arching body.
"AAANNNGGHH!" she wailed with a mixture of agony and masochistic passion, "you're splitting me apart! But I love it! I LOVE IT!" Her cries filled the room as his great glistening brown body, dripping with sweat, began pistoning his long rigid penis in and out of the burning heat of her cunt.
Meanwhile, Lou Grady had returned from taking a shower, dressed once more in the red silk robe, and watched with lewd excitement as Carlos, crying lustily with throaty animal noises, mercilessly fucked his enormously throbbing cock down into the ivory-white body beneath him. The voyeuristic agent felt his own passion rising once more as he watched the salacious spectacle taking place before his eyes. Finally, he began to stroke himself beneath the folds of his robe as the cries and moans from the bed drove him into a near frenzy of passion. The pressure mounted in his body as he closed his eyes and listened to the erotic screams of the flailing young wife.
"OOOOOHHH!" Candy cried in ecstasy, "I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMINNGG!"
As she ground her convulsing young cunt tight up into the loins of the violently fucking Puerto Rican, Carlos began to shake with excitement as he, too, reached the climax of his passion. With a roar of triumphant release he began to buck his massive body with even greater force, suddenly spurting his hot liquid sperm far up into the feverishly thrashing young wife's quivering belly. On and on the thrusting orgasm came, and Carlos grunted in a mindless pleasure as a seemingly endless flow of male seed shot out like bullets from his gargantuan penis. Finally, as he reached the end of his orgasm, he collapsed upon the trembling body of the twice-fucked girl beneath him.
The room quieted as her moans subsided gradually into silence, and there was only the wetly sucking sound of the giant bodyguard withdrawing his flaccid penis from between her legs and rising from the bed. In the stillness, Grady suddenly became aware that the pianist's blonde wife had fainted from exhaustion, her arms and legs spread obscenely out on the mattress as though she was a puppet suddenly cut loose from its strings.
Mrs. James, he thought to himself triumphantly, you are a real fine piece of assl And you're mine, baby, all mine!
When Drew's abused young wife finally awoke from her heavy, drugged sleep there was only one dim light on in the bedroom. At first she had no idea of where she was or what had happened, but when her eyes finally focused clearly and she saw the luxurious bedroom, the memory of what had taken place came flashing back vividly into her mind. Sitting up, Candy found her head was throbbing with a dull ache, and her body ached from all the abuse it had taken, particularly from the torrid coupling with the phenomenally endowed Carlos. Slowly and unsteadily she rose from the bed, shaken by waves of shame and humiliation as she saw streaked stains of semen covering her loins and thighs and the bedcovers in disarray, a sordid reminder of what she had endured at the hands of her husband's agent. Miserably, she dragged her weary frame into the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would wash away some of her shame.
Fifteen minutes later, feeling somewhat fresher and less degraded, she returned to the bedroom. Picking up her clothes from the floor, she slowly began to dress.
Well, she thought bitterly to herself, I did what Drew wanted. I tried to fix things ... and Lou did say he'd take something off the debt and wait a little ... that's something, isn't it? And there's still the contract. Once Drew makes a record, he'll hit it big; I just know it.
As she dressed, she heard raucous laughter coming from the other room, and she recognized Grady's laughter at once. She couldn't identify the other voice, but she assumed it was probably Carlos. Realizing that she would have to face them again, the young blonde bride began to shake and tremble, recalling vividly once more all the degradation she had been subjected to. Tears began to well up in her eyes, but as this happened, she suddenly became angry and wiped them away roughly.
No, dammit, she vowed inwardly, I'm not going to start crying. I'll just get that contract and walk out of here as if nothing happened. And he'll never get within ten feet of me again. I swear to God he won't. Finally dressed, she squared her shoulders and moved toward the door leading to the other room.
Entering, she saw at once that there was a new arrival in the elegantly decorated living room. Seated next to Grady on the sofa, laughing heartily over some joke, was Max Schlessinger, one of the Star Club's best customers. Candy had seen him dozens of times.
Max Schlessinger was a businessman, an enormously successful businessman, although Candy was not sure what his business interests really were. Rumor had it that he was actually involved with the Mob and had interest in a nationwide chain of used car lots, but whatever his source of money, there was no question that he had plenty. The unique thing about Schlessinger was not so much his money as his appearance. Around the club he was generally regarded as an eccentric, and from looking at him it was not hard to see why.
He was extremely thin, unusual for a businessman and about five feet eight inches tall; his narrowness of figure, almost like that of a professional jockey, was doubly emphasized by the fact that he always wore skin-tight custom-made leather clothing. Drew had been startled to see him in a pure white leather Edwardian cut suit that night with a pink shirt and a maroon tie. Another novel feature of the strange customer was that he was completely bald-a fact of which he was extremely proud. His smooth pate was always carefully shaved and polished. His face was narrow, with a long hook nose. His eyes were small, dark and beady with thick black eyebrows above them, and his mouth was thin and tight, a watery pink color. He always wore a diamond earring in his left earlobe. If the young blonde bride hadn't known better she would have almost thought he was a "swish," but she had heard stories from the other girls about his insatiable sexual appetite. Although the voluptuous blonde didn't care much for him, she had to admit he was fascinating.
He and Grady were talking together animatedly, but as Candy entered the room they ceased their conversation and turned their attention onto her. Candy blushed slightly and felt a shiver of humiliation burn through her. After all, she was sure they had been discussing what had happened earlier. She wished she could leave some other way, but it was impossible. She had to see Drew get that contract.
She moved forward, and the men, surprisingly, stood up.
""Candy baby, nice to see you up," Grady said brightly. "How about a drink?" He moved to the bar. "You know Mr. Schlessinger, don't you? He sure knows you."
"Hello Candy," he said in his high-pitched, almost-feminine voice, "Certainly we know each other. God, we've seen each other time and time again downstairs in the club, haven't we?"
"Hello, Mr. Schlessinger," Drew's wife said hesitantly. "Lou ... can I talk to you alone for a minute?"
"Alone? Candy baby, whaddya want to be alone for? I got no secrets from Max here. Not one."
"Well, I hope not, Lou," Schlessinger replied with a raised eyebrow. "I certainly hope not."
"Sure, I tell you everything." The slyly smiling agent handed Candy a drink. Then he fixed her with a penetrating look. "Sometimes in absolute detail, like that beautiful blow-job I just got from little Candy here!"
The pianist's humiliated young wife felt a sudden well of anger surge through her. Oh God! The filthy beast had told Schlessinger all about the sordid scene that had taken place in the bedroom.
"You pig!" she found herself shouting suddenly. In the next instant she threw the contents of her glass into his star led face.
"Why you fuckin' bitch!" he snarled, wiping the liquid from his face. Without warning, he raised his arm and slapped Candy viciously across the face, sending the startled young girl reeling back in shock and surprise, her face stinging painfully from the force of his blow.
"Baby, you just made a big mistake. A very big mistake." The red-haired agent wiped the drink from his coat with a handkerchief and spoke with a voice that was tense and hoarse from his rising anger. "Now you just sit down on that chair, my sweet little cunt. Ol' Lou is gonna mix you a drink, and you're gonna sit quiet and drink it while I talk. And you're gonna listen to me baby, 'cause if you don't, I'm gonna sock you around a little more, understand?"
The humiliated young bride nodded meekly, trying to keep the hot tears from spilling from her eyes. The room was silent for a moment except for the clinking of glass and the girl's soft, anxious breathing. Lou handed her the drink, a sneering smile on his lips, then sat down across from her next to Schlessinger on the couch, crossing his legs and let the folds of his loose kimono fall open to obscenely reveal his hairy testicles. His thin elegant companion only stared at the shivering young bride, his small dark eyes riveted to her ripely curving young frame.
"Mrs. James," Lou began evenly, "nobody throws drinks into Lou Grady's face, get that?"
"Even if it is expensive stuff," Max added, giggling slightly.
"Shut up, Max," the annoyed agent spat. He turned his attention once more to Drew's wife. "It disturbs me, baby, that such a pretty young girl such as yourself would do such a thing. It doesn't really show the proper respect, know what I mean? Respect. It's a pity, isn't it, Max, that she never learned the proper respect."
The eccentric man's thin lips curled back into a leering smile.
"Yes, it is ... but you know ... It isn't only a matter of respect ... it's a matter of discipline as well. Discipline is very, very important, you know. That's something I learned as a child. The importance of discipline. Discipline and respect go hand in hand."
"Exactly, Max," Grady said, smiling conspiratorially at his beak-nosed friend. "Candy, I gotta admit you did a pretty good job in the bedroom. I was telling Max here how good you were. The young blonde winced inwardly and held fiercely back on the tears that threatened at any moment to cascade down her beautiful young face. "In fact you were so good that I almost figured I'd just give you that contract and forget about the debt...." He paused to brush at his kimono again. "But then you did this. It's a pity, my dear, because you've made me angry. Very angry." The bulky agent paused, thinking to himself how perfectly she'd fallen into his hands. He liked being able to humiliate the snotty young blonde, and now that she had thrown the drink in his face, he was even feeling a little self-righteous and felt perfectly justified in doing anything to the wife of his weak-willed pianist-client that he fancied. "Yeah, I was gonna let you go tonight with the contract, and everything but that drink changed all that. Now I gotta think of some way to get my integrity back. You owe me a lot more than money, baby, you owe me my pride. How do you think we can settle the debt, Max?"
Schlessinger thought pensively for a moment, then let his hand fall to the crotch of his tight white leather trousers, and he began to shamelessly rub the huge mound made by his genitals, obscenely pressing his hands against the warmly throbbing area.
"I wouldn't be too hard on her, Lou," the thin man said, staring hungrily at the pretty young blonde. "I'm sure she was just upset about things...."
"But we can't forget about respect ... and discipline," the heavy-set agent interjected, also letting his hands graze over the slowly awakening flesh of his lewdly exposed genitals.
"Yes ... discipline," Max said as he unzipped the fly of his trousers and slowly withdrew the rapidly stiffening thickness of his ample cock. "We should teach this sweet thing some discipline."
Candy shivered and began to sob softly and helplessly. The shame and degradation they were subjecting her to was too much for her shattered nerves. Max leaned across and patted her on the knee.
"Don't worry, my dear, we won't hurt you. We just want to have a little fun. Discipline doesn't have to be drab, after all. And if you're very nice to me, Candy, perhaps I can talk to Lou and make things easier on you and your husband. In fact, I'm sure I could help you out. Of course you'll have to cooperate a little, but that's life, after all Cooperation. And discipline, of course."
"Stop, stop it!" Drew's wife cried suddenly. It's horrible. Why are you doing this to me? I can't ... do what you want. I can't."
Candy knew only too well that Lou and Max were suggesting that if she only submitted to their lewd desires, they would again consider canceling the debt her husband owed the sleazy agent. Confused and miserable, the humiliated young wife began to cry with huge gulping sobs. Slowly Grady rose from the couch and took her trembling hand and lifted her to her feet, quickly slipping his eager hands around her buttocks, squeezing them.
"You don't have to answer right away, Candy. Why don't you go home and think about it. You're a free woman, you know. You can walk out of here of your own free will. You don't ever have to come back. That is, unless you'd like to help your husband. Most wives would be only too happy to do something to help their man's career. I don't see why you're making such a big thing of it. I'm giving you the chance, the second chance, to wipe out that debt, give me back my honor and get a record contract for Drew in the bargain."
"And ... and what happens if I do walk out of here, forever."
"Nothing will happen to you, Candy. You, as I told you, are a free woman. But ... Drew still has a debt to pay ... and if he can't ... well, I'll just have to break his fingers ... just to teach him he can't mess around with the big boys and not expect to get hurt. And maybe I'd have the boys break his face while they're at it. To pay back the integrity that his stupid wife took away from me. So think it over, honey. Think it over."
"Oh God," she moaned. "You can't do anything to him. Please!"
"Does that mean you're going to cooperate?" Grady asked, staring lewdly down at her. "I ... I ... yes."
Max Schlessinger grinned and took two steps toward her. "I knew you were a smart girl, Mrs. James." He stroked his rapidly hardening penis. "Now why don't you come over here and kneel in front of me ... so I can see if you give as good a blow-job as Lou says."
The anguished young wife stood there trembling in fright and indecision. The two men saw her glance once in panic toward the door; then her shoulders slumped and a new stream of tears began flowing down her face.
Like a robot, she walked across the room and knelt before the lewdly grinning thin man.
CHAPTER THREE
Candy James went home that night in a daze of confused thoughts. She had done everything they asked of her, but she still didn't have the contract. That would come, Grady had told her, only after she spent a weekend with Max. The horrible threats from the unscrupulous agent had sent chills of terror coursing through her already-shocked mind, causing alternating currents of anger and fear to ripple outwardly until her body was trembling uncontrollably. She had crossed the crowded streets almost by instinct and it wasn't until she passed an all-night diner near the hotel that she saw a clock and saw that it was almost two o'clock in the morning. With a start she realized that she had spent hours on the bed and in the front room, the most-degrading night of her entire life.
Occasionally a streetlight would reflect against the streaked tears of her face and the softness of her crying would hover in the night darkness. The humiliated young wife wondered if her husband would be waiting up for her, and if he was, how she would be able to tell him the sordid story. She walked on, her legs feeling weighted and heavy, while her mind continued to flash horrible images of all that had taken place that evening on the upper rooms of the Star Club. Vainly she tried to blot out the painful memories of Lou and Carlos making love to her, brutally, and obscenely ... the leering smile on Max Schlessinger's thin face as she was forced to perform oral sex on him. How had it happened? How had this unbelievable nightmare begun? Two days ago she had been almost a virgin, untouched by anyone but her husband and now ... now, she had taken on three other men in quick succession, like a whore off the streets, helplessly forced to submit to their emotionless ravaging.
Soon she found herself at the door to their rooms, and she inwardly hoped that Drew would be asleep. Opening the door she breathed a sigh of relief as she found the room darkened. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she slipped inside and began to take her coat off.
Suddenly the light was switched on and Candy gasped as the room was bright from the overhead bulb. Turning, she saw Drew sitting up in bed, his eyes red from drinking.
"I ... I thought you were asleep," she stammered nervously.
"I couldn't sleep. I was waiting for you." His voice was thick from his drinking. Suddenly Candy began to weep once more, overwhelmed by the unhappiness of their situation.
"Hey ... what's the matter honey?" the half-drunk pianist asked, stretching out his arms to her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh Drew it was awful, awful," she moaned as she quickly ran to him and allowed her shuddering body to be drawn into an embrace.
"Oh Drew, I feel so ashamed of myself. I tried to get him to wait for the money and to give us the contract ... but ... oh, it was horrible."
The young pianist listened to her words tensely. Although he was trying to comfort her and present the picture of the concerned husband, inwardly he was seething with thought. Had she gotten the contract? From the sound of it probably not. And it looked as if that son-of-a-bitch Grady was still insisting on the money. He had been sure if his agent had been given a little access to his young blonde wife he'd be more understanding. Damn! The ambitious young husband tried to remain sympathetic as she continued, but all the time he wondered what he was going to do now.
"Drew...." Candy continued miserably, "we ... we gambled for it and ... and I lost ... and I had to ... to...." Slowly the entire story came out. As she spoke, describing everything that had happened between her with Lou, Carlos and Max, Drew found himself reacting strangely. At first he was shocked, almost horrified, even though in the back of his mind he had suspected that Lou would want more than a few tears to get him to cancel the debt and hand over the contract. Yet, as his wife spoke through her steady tears, he began to find himself growing almost ... almost excited at the thought of her slenderly curving white young body being subjected to the lewd assaults of the two men. But then his forbidden excitement began to dim as he realized, through the haze of his drunkenness, that despite what Candy had done it hadn't worked. He was still at the mercy of Grady and his henchmen, he still had to pay off that debt, and fast. But how? What was he supposed to do now? His attention returned to his wife's words in time to hear her tell him about the incident with Max and the agent.
"... and they told me that if I'd spend this weekend with Schlessinger, I could have everything I wanted. The debt cancelled and the contract in hand. But Drew I can't do it ... Oh God! I just can't."
But her drunken young husband paid no attention to her miserable state. Her last words had made a jolt of excitement surge through his brain. There was still a chance! Grady was offering him another opportunity to get out of the jam he was in. Plus the contract with Arcade Records, a shot at the big time. He knew that once he'd made it he'd never have to worry again; he and Candy could be living on easy street. A couple of big-selling records, a few top club dates, television ... it was all possible now, if only he could convince his wife.
The ravaged young blonde lay in his arms, waiting for him to hold her closer, waiting for his anger at Lou and Max, waiting for him to tell her he'd take her away, that she'd never have to submit to anything like that again. But the words didn't come. A tremor of anxiety ran through the abused blonde's body. Why didn't he say anything? It couldn't be that he ... he....
Drew instinctively knew what was going on in his wife's mind, and he struggled to find the right words, to keep her from getting suspicious.
"Oh Candy, it's all my fault," letting his voice sound remorseful and full of guilt, "I'm the one who forced you to do it. I didn't mean for anything like this to happen. I'm so sorry, honey, so sorry."
His young blonde wife sensed that there was something forced in his words, and in the way he seemed to be stroking her shoulders with a kind of calculated sympathy. She had sensed something of the same thing the previous morning when he had told her about his gambling losses. A chill of revulsion ran through her slim young body and unconsciously she moved away from him, extricating herself from his arms and standing up.
"Drew...." she said, a strange metallic quality in her voice, "I want to get undressed. I'll only be a minute."
He watched her walk into the bathroom, sensing that his hidden thoughts had somehow been transmitted to his wife. Yet his reaction was one of resentment, resentment at her display of emotion. After all, what was so terrible about what they wanted. Christ! In this world you had to pay a price for everything. All she had to do was lie on her back for a few moments and it would solve their problems. He'd be on his way up to the top, and she'd be right there with him. Hell, didn't she want nice clothes and a big house, her husband making hit records and playing Las Vegas and Los Angeles? All she had to do was close her eyes and pretend it was really him, didn't she. One goddamn weekend and it's worth six thousand dollars and a record contract.
I've just got to handle her right, he thought, just got to be a little more convincing. She's just scared, that's all.
He turned off the light once more and lay back in the bed, certain he could bring his uncertain young bride around to his way of thinking.
Candy stood in the tiny bathroom of their hotel apartment, trying to clear her mind. At first she had deeply resented her husband's seeming lack of feeling. Why it was almost as if he didn't care whether or not she had sex with Lou, Carlos, and Max Schlessinger. Did his career mean more to him than his own wife? Even though she knew that he faced the possibility of having his hands permanently ruined, something she didn't want to happen in a million years, the bewildered bride had certainly expected that Drew would at least be genuinely upset. But he seemed almost cold to her situation, almost as if he ... as if he wanted her to go through with it!
But thinking it through she couldn't believe such a thing was possible. She knew Drew too well, didn't she, to believe that his feelings for her were not at least as deep as those she had for him. After all, he was probably as upset as she was, and how could he act naturally, being confronted with such a horrible story. The more she thought about it, the more the confused young bride felt. Drew really did love her and had been too shocked and numbed to respond as lovingly as she would have liked. After all, she couldn't have married him if he wasn't the kind of man she thought he was. No, she'd made a mistake, she decided finally, because she was so overwrought she hadn't really understood Drew's reaction.
Oh darling, she thought, this is all so terrible. But I love you. I love you so much. Maybe for one night we should forget everything ... just make love ... our kind of love ... and wipe all this dirtiness away.
Slowly she took off her clothes until she was completely naked, her roundly sculpted young body gleaming milk-white in the harsh bathroom light. She wanted to make love to her husband, to make love as never before.
She opened the bathroom door and the light spilled out into the darkened room, silhouetting her gently curving body. The naked young wife waited, posing provocatively, her firm breasts high and thrusting. Then Drew called to her, his voice thick with desire. At once a thrill of happiness coursed through her and she felt even more strongly that her pianist-husband loved her truly and deeply. She walked slowly to the bed, then stopped as Drew got up and came to her, his lean, hard-muscled body completely naked. Gently he took her in his arms.
"Darling," he whispered warmly, "I love you so much. Well go away, darling ... go away somewhere ... so far away that nobody can ever find us again."
Candy almost cried out with joy at his tender words. He did love her, she was certain now. Shivers ran through her warm young body as her husband ran his fingers lightly across the sensitive hardness of her nipples. Glancing down, in the light from the bathroom his wife could see that his long thick penis was swelling upwards in hot anticipation. In the next moment he pulled her fiercely against him, crushing her softly trembling breasts against his chest, and began to scrape his fingernails across the tingling surface of her smooth back. His rigidly thickened cock pressed against her naked body as he began to flex his hips suggestively back and forth.
Laughing, the young blonde wife reached down and grasped his hotly throbbing shaft in her hands and began to pull him teasingly toward the bed.
"Come, my darling, my wonderful lover," she murmured, "come make love to me."
There was no mistaking the light happiness in her voice, and Drew knew then that everything would work out just as he wanted. All he had to do now was give her the screwing of her life, the way she liked it, tapping that deep flowing sensual current that he knew she had and bringing her to orgasm after orgasm. He smiled smugly to himself, knowing that when he made love with a purpose he could make himself last as long as he wanted. He had a big cock and he knew how to use it.
"Oh Drew, fuck me, fuck me darling," his excited young wife pleaded hungrily. "Show me how much you love me."
"I love you honey," he replied with conviction. "Oh, do I love you."
Embracing his wife tightly, he eased her down to the bed. They kissed, kissed deeply, their naked bodies pressed tightly, and desire rose between them with an incredible urgency. Their hands began excitedly exploring each other's secret flesh. For a moment Drew pulled away, openingly admiring the cream-whiteness of her skin, the platinum blonde hair and green eyes that had always driven him wild with desire. He considered himself lucky to have such a beautiful wife, not only because she turned him on, but because she turned other men on too. It certainly didn't hurt his career to have a creature like her with him. Her large, firmly rounded breasts gleamed provocatively in the light from the bathroom and as he watched, she cupped the smoothly rounded flesh in her hands squeezing it softly, a warm smile playing on her ruby lips.
"My darling," she whispered, "Oh my darling!"
She's as good as convinced, Drew thought to himself, as good as convinced.
He let his hand trail lovingly up her long tapering leg until it reached the hairy crevice up between her thighs. At once she spread her legs wide, offering her golden mound to him willingly. Deftly the muscular young pianist slipped his extended middle finger into the warm little mouth of her vaginal sheath and slowly snaked it up inside the gently pulsing passage, widening the muscles, moving deeper and deeper. At the same time he bent down and began to nibble and suck at her rosy nipples.
"Oooohhhhh," she sighed, as waves of erotic warmth cascaded over her body. It was wonderful to have her husband in her arms again, and it seemed to wash away some of the shame she felt from the two previous evenings. Nobody knew how to make her respond the way her husband did, nobody. "Drew ... ooohhhhh Drew...."
Candy was consumed with pleasure as his outstretched finger slipped deeper into her throbbing cuntal sheath and his lips played teasingly with the hardening buds of her tingling breasts. Happily, the young blonde bride placed her hands directly down between his legs and began to fondle his warmly pulsing penis, which was as hard as a rock.
Drew's lips roved hungrily over each of her soft, wide-set breasts, lost in the resilient texture of those supple mounds. Each teasing bite on her nipples and breasts sent shivers of ecstasy through her wantonly twisting body, and the pianist grinned inwardly knowing that with each thrill of pleasure he gave her meat he was closer to his goal of convincing her of his affection. He hoped if he could fuck her as never before she would practically be begging him to let her do what Grady wanted. That was the best way, after all, wasn't it? To let her think it was her own idea. Before he had married her, Candy had been unaware of the depths of her sexuality, and Drew had discovered that once she was aroused there was no stopping her. Well, that suited him just fine. If she had a weakness for sex, he might as well use it for his own ends.
He increased the activity of his middle finger up between her gentle parted thighs, lubricating her pussy by his torrid insinuations, and at the same time Candy responded fully by gripping his cock expertly so that he was growing wildly aroused and eager, yet in the back of his mind he knew he mustn't be so quick to satisfy his own passion. He wanted to make sure Candy believed in him. Suddenly, he changed position, moving down so that his face was directly over her warmly trembling cunt.
"Drew ... Drew?" Candy inquired uncertainly. Usually her pianist-husband always preferred to enter her quickly, yet now ... she gasped as suddenly her husband snaked out his tongue and licked her vaginal flesh lightly. He was making love to her orally, just as that awful Lou Grady had done earlier in the evening. But this was something Drew rarely did! The young blonde's heart swelled with happiness, and eagerly she spread her legs as her husband began to run his tongue up and down her moistly throbbing pussy, probing into every fold of her sensitive outer lips, and nibbling playfully at the silken strands of pubic hair that lined her pussy. He found the ultrasensitive tip of her clitoris and sucked on it until it grew hard, sending excruciating ripples of forbidden delight coursing throughout Candy's body.
His blonde young wife, overcome with pleasure, opened her legs wide to. allow her husband easy entry and pushed her hips upwards eagerly to press her wetly throbbing pussy into his hot hungry mouth. Everything fled from her mind. The sordidness of Grady and Max Schlessinger, the terrible things they were threatening to do to Drew. All she could think about, could care about, was her wonderful husband, and the fantastic way he was making love to her. That was something nobody could take away, that was their precious treasure. Their love! She writhed eagerly beneath Drew's madly licking tongue, her hair-rimmed little cunt grinding hard up against his greedy lips, crushing his mouth hard into her slippery wetness.
"Oh yes, Drew ... thank you, thank you ... it's wonderful ... lick me, darling ... lick me ... aaahhhh yes! Like that! Ahhhhhh!"
Drew, almost trembling now with his own passion, sucked feverishly at her succulent flesh, bringing his writhing young wife closer and closer to orgasm. He felt he could stay hard all night at this rate, and the longer he did, the more chance he had of convincing Candy he loved her, and getting her to help him. He plunged his tongue as far as he could into her wetly clasping vaginal passage, rotating it far up inside her cunt and bringing squeal after squeal of lewd delight from her lust-tautened throat.
"Oh God!" she cried out as her pianist-husband's tongue wiggled like a snake up into her wildly excited pussy. "Ooooohhhhh Goooddd!"
The abandoned young wife groaned and twisted beneath her husband's hot slavering mouth, and it was all he could do to keep from crawling on top of her and ramming his painfully throbbing cock to the hilt in her belly. But he wanted to wait, wait until she had her first climax this way, then he would fuck her properly, bringing her off again and again. Yes, he could wait. By God, it was going to be worth it.
At that moment Candy began to cry out, her senses whipped to a frenzy by Drew's expert tongue-fucking. The wet sluicing sounds his mouth made on her frantically tingling pussy thrilled her even more. And then she groaned once and her body arched up off the bed and stiffened like a board. Her blood roared hotly through her veins and abruptly she was there.
"AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH I" she groaned helplessly. "I'M CUMMMMIIIIING!"
Feverishly Drew redoubled his efforts, burying his mouth into his wife's suddenly convulsing pussy. Hungry flames of passion engulfed the wildly thrashing young blonde as his tongue induced one of the most incredible climaxes of her life. Her lust-heated cuntal walls dilated and shuddered, squeezing out moist streams of warm orgasmic juices that cascaded over her husband's hungrily sucking lips and long licking tongue. Finally the galvanic release began to ebb, and Candy sighed deeply as her husband pulled away from her ecstatically quivering pussy.
"Oh ... oh ... oh Drew, that was lovely ... you've never made such wonderful love to me."
"Thanks, honey ... but you haven't seen anything yet."
"What ... what do you mean?"
Smiling slyly, Drew repositioned himself so that his rigidly throbbing penis was at the saliva-coated entrance to her vagina. Then, savoring every ripple of delight that ran through him, he slowly sank his lust-engorged shaft into the wetly clasping folds of her cunt as she groaned in surprise and passion.
"Drew ... Drew ... I love you."
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Candy. Nothing. Now relax, darling, 'cause we're gonna go all night."
The young blonde wife was ecstatic beyond words. Her husband was fucking her as never before. Deftly he slid his long thick penis deeply up into her vaginal sheath until the tip of his throbbing cockhead brushed against her spongy cervix, the contact sending an electrifying thrill through both of their bodies.
He loves me, Candy thought. He truly loves me.
It seemed then, to the pretty young blonde, that she had never in her life been so profoundly happy. Her husband arched his muscular body over her perfectly and began to fuck slowly in and out of her hungrily clutching pussy, his rock-hard penis moving snugly against the drenched inner walls. Candy began undulating her lips up and down in perfect unison with each stroke he made, and every exciting thrust of their hips seeming to confirm what she felt already.
He loves me ... he loves me ... he loves me ... oh ... I'd do anything for him ... anything!
CHAPTER FOUR
"Would you like some more champagne, Candy?" Max Schlessinger asked politely as he reached for the bottle that sat wrapped in a white towel in an ice bucket.
"Just ... just a little."
It was two nights later, at an intimate restaurant on the outskirts of Chicago. Drew's young blonde wife had made the decision to "play along" with Lou and the thin businessman. After all it would only be for the weekend, and then all their troubles would be over. Even though her husband strongly protested, the pretty bride knew that she had to go through with it-there was too much at stake not to. Now she sat in the dimly lit supper club, dressed in a turquois sheath dress, her blonde hair arranged in softly falling curls around her shoulders, and tried to make conversation with the thin, hawk-nosed man who was her companion for the evening.
"I must say I was delighted when Lou told me you wanted to be with me tonight," Max remarked as he refilled Candy's glass with sparkling champagne. "I'm sure we'll have a fine time together."
He smiled at her, his small, dark eyes glittering strangely as he sipped at his drink. He was dressed in a black leather suit tonight, snugly fitted to make him look even thinner than usual, with a yellow shirt and orange tie.
"The champagne is very good," the slightly nervous blonde girl said, doing her best to sound casual and sophisticated.
"Isn't it, though! Delicious. But I'm afraid I have to go to the restroom for a moment. Will you excuse me?"
"Surely."
"I'll be right back. Don't go away."
Drew's wife watched as the lean-framed eccentric got up from the table and disappeared into the men's room. Then she drank deeply from her glass, hoping that the alcohol would numb her senses and enable her to go through with the evening without breaking down. She was already quite fight-headed from the bubbling drinks, and she noted that it hardly seemed to affect Max at all. He had drank much more than she, and yet seemed as steady and in control as he did at the beginning of the evening.
The troubled blonde felt another surge of warmth wind through her ripely curving young frame, and she leaned back in her chair, grateful for a moment alone. Thanks to all the champagne, she was beginning to feel as if her promise to her husband wouldn't be as hard to keep as she had thought. Remembering Drew, she thought again of the wonderful time they'd had in bed two nights before. It had been almost unbelievable, and she had climaxed again and again. Afterwards, she reflected warmly, Drew had pleaded with her not to see Max or Lou again, but the pretty green-eyed blonde had convinced him that she had no choice but to go through with it. It wasn't only the money or the contract, after all; it was their whole life that was at stake. If Grady ordered his henchmen to break Drew's fingers it would mean the end of everything. She had finally persuaded her handsome husband that it wouldn't hurt her just once more, and she promised him that she would pretend she was making love to him and not to the man who had just left the table.
It was strange, though, for despite her apprehension, Schlessinger had behaved so far like a perfect gentleman, treating her with more kindness and courtesy than anyone she'd ever gone out with. Even her husband, she realized, seemed to pay more attention to his own entertainment, when they went out together, than to hers. But with the thin, strange businessman it was altogether different, and despite her dislike for him, she found herself oddly taken by his deferential, almost-charming manner. He hadn't grabbed at her once, and his conversation had been witty and sometimes even quite delightful.
As she continued to sip from her glass, Candy found herself feeling more and more at ease, less frightened about the prospects for the rest of the evening. After all, it would be over soon, and it wasn't as if she was losing her virginity or anything.
At that moment Schlessinger returned to the table, smiling at the ravishing young blonde as he sat down across from her at the candle-lit table.
"Ah, Candy, what an enchanting creature you are. It must be ... somewhat depressing to be seeing someone like myself. I'm afraid I haven't the looks that your husband has ... and, of course, I haven't got his build. I've always been much too thin, you know. No matter how much I eat I never gain an ounce."
"Oh, you mustn't feel badly about that, Mr. Schlessinger," she replied, feeling almost warm toward him. "You're a very attractive man, honestly."
She thought she could see the appreciation in his eyes at her words, and he reached across the table and tenderly took her hand.
"Thank you, my dear. I actually think you mean that"
"I do, Mr. Schlessinger."
"You must call me Max, all right? I hate being formal."
"All right ... Max."
"Ah, that's better. I think, Candy, you and I are going to be very good friends." He glanced up to see a waiter approaching with a wheeled table loaded with covered dishes. "Ah, here is our dinner. Wonderful. Wonderful."
Two hours later the thin man and Drew's wife were seated in the back of a chauffeur-driven Mercedes Benz, driving away from the city into the most-exclusive suburban area. Candy felt relaxed, strangely content, as she sat close to the thin, well-mannered businessman. Her head was almost giddy from all the champagne and the incredible dinner they had eaten, and they rode in silence through the dark night until finally the car pulled up a long, winding driveway to an immense, old fashioned Victorian house at the edge of a mountain lake. Schlessinger got out first, opened the door to Candy's side of the car, and then escorted her up a long flagstone path to a huge set of double doors. As if by magic, a uniformed butler admitted them, and then disappeared on a sign from the owner. Max led her finally into an enormous room on the second floor, and as Drew's blonde wife entered, she glanced around in awe.
Like the rest of the house, the huge room, a combination bedroom-living room, was a showpiece of Victorian antique furniture and design. The walls were dark, paneled wood, with old-fashioned paintings on them, heavy brocade and velvet drapes covered the windows, and there was a huge canopied bed at one end of the room that looked like an illustration from an old book. There were velvet settees and chairs, a thick oriental rug, and an enormous carved-stone fireplace with a roaring log fire that filled the room with warmth and flickering shadows. Tiffany lamps with colored shades were placed here and there throughout the room.
"Oh, this is lovely," Candy remarked, glancing around.
"Thanks, my dear," he said in appreciation. "It's not to everyone's taste, of course, but I love it"
Candy settled into the softness of a settee as Max busied himself pouring Cognac into two glasses. Then, handing her the drink, he excused himself and left the room.
The young blonde wife sat in the strange, old-fashioned room and wondered what was to come next. Schlessinger had been so gentle with her all night that she knew there was nothing really to fear, except the possibility of making love to him. But the drinks had taken the edge away from her nerves now, and she was convinced that she had to go through with it for her husband, her wonderful husband, and for her marriage. That was all that mattered.
Moments later, Max returned, having exchanged his suit for an old-fashioned velvet dressing gown. He carried with him a white silk, Victorian negligee, with lace and ruffles.
"There's a dressing room through that door, Candy. Why don't you change into this? Then we'll be more comfortable."
With some trepidation, the young blonde bride accepted the soft garment, and went through the door, into the small comfortable dressing room. As she undressed she began to feel a flutter of nervousness in the pit of her stomach.
It'll be over soon, she reminded herself. And after all, it hasn't been so bad. Finally she was completely naked, standing before a full-length mirror. As she slid into the silken nightgown, her roundly curving body tingled from the sensuous material against her skin. Finally, when she secured the garment, she glanced at herself in the mirror and was pleased at how sensual she looked ... in spite of the circumstances. The image in the glass reflected a Victorian damsel, with bright blonde curls and green eyes, dressed in a perfect, period nightdress. The folds of the supple cloth clung to her ripe young body, accentuating every line and curve, like an erotic illustration from the turn of the century. Mr. Schlessinger, she knew, was certainly going to get his money's worth, and she vowed once more that this time she would do nothing to endanger the agreement she had made with Lou to do whatever Max wanted.
Oh Drew, she thought, forgive me, darling. I'm doing this for you. Only for you....
As she turned to go back into the bedroom, she felt again a steady shiver of anxiety take hold of her. But she squared her shoulders and resisted any last minute misgivings, and went to join the thin, hawk-nosed businessman.
"You look exquisite, my dear," Schlessinger exclaimed as she entered the room. "Perfect." He extended his hand and led her to the edge of the old-fashioned canopied bed, indicating that she was to He back on the huge pile of pil lows. The young blonde bride felt wonderfully relaxed as her body eased into the comfortable softness of the silk and velvet pillows. She felt almost like the heroine from an old romance novel. "Now, I'm going to show you something special." Opening a concealed panel in the wall, revealing a row of buttons, Max pushed one of the buttons and, to Candy's amazement, the bed began to vibrate. "Let me know when it's the way you like it," he said, adjusting the power of the vibrations.
"Oh, that's perfect!" she said dreamily as he turned the intensity higher. A delicious, humming sensation rippled through her silk-clad young frame and she lay back, luxuriating in the feeling; there also seemed to be a kind of warmth in the bed too, emanating from within the mattress, that added to her total comfort She was hardly aware that Max positioned himself on the other side of the bed, lying close to her, barely touching. Candy thought of nothing except the tantalizing sensations racing through her body. Soft firelight filled the room. She closed her eyes and let herself drift into the sensuous mood that enveloped her.
Max slowly lifted his hand and placed it on the young bride's thigh, the first overt movement he had made all evening. Candy didn't resist his gesture at all. In fact, she was surprised at the tenderness of his move, and it made her feel oddly comfortable and protected. She put her hand on top of his and moved with him as he slid it softly up and down her leg. It was strange how his touch soothed her, and even more, how disturbingly exciting it was. The combination of his gentle caress and the silken nightgown, coupled with the erotic vibration on the bed, sent low waves of desire coursing through her firm young body. She began to wish that he would hold her more firmly, or at least move the robe out of the way. Finally, Drew's wife reached down and parted the front of the negligee, so that her left leg was uncovered, then lowered Max's hand so that he could move it across the ivory smoothness of her skin.
The eccentric businessman shifted his weight, moving closer to the young bride, and slid his hand into the sensitive inner side of her thighs. Candy's skin prickled with warm jolts of pleasure at his touch, and cool chills raced up and down her back. He touched her so lightly, so tentatively, that it almost seemed as if he was afraid of her.
How funny, Candy thought. At the club he always acts so lewdly, pinching the girls every chance he gets. And now, when he's alone, he's practically like a shy schoolboy.
Smiling inwardly, the blonde wife decided she should hurry things along a little, so that she could get back to Drew as soon as possible. She turned onto her side, letting the robe fall open even more. Suddenly, Max put one arm around her, while he shoved the other roughly between her thighs again. The tentative quality of his lovemaking seemed to vanish, as he held her tightly, with a tremendous strength.
"Max ... Max, please don't hold me so tightly ... you're hurting me," she protested softly. But he did not respond, instead he held her closer, almost crushing her shoulders. Please....
"Shut up, cunt!" he snarled suddenly.
"I ... what ... what's happening ... why are you acting like this?" Candy couldn't believe the sudden change in her companion. His dark eyes seemed to grow smaller, glittering oddly, as he held her in a vise-like grip.
"You keep your mouth shut, you little bitch, and do exactly what I tell you." He brutally pinched the soft flesh of her thighs. "We've played around long enough. Now we get down to the serious business, eh?"
He moved away from her suddenly, got up from the bed and threw off his velvet robe, revealing his scrawny, naked frame. The sex-hungry businessman leered down at the confused, anxious young bride and obscenely stroked the hugely endowed flesh of his cock and balls, swinging between his narrow thighs.
"Now take off that robe, cunt, so I can see that flesh you've been teasing me with all night."
Drew's captive young bride was too startled by his abrupt change in personality to do anything but obey him, and she undid the front of her nightgown completely so that her body was revealed nakedly to his lusty gaze. Slowly Max circled around the bed until he stood by her, never once taking his eyes from her excitingly curved body. His enormous penis, hard as a rock and stiffly extended, jutted toward her like some obscene snake.
"Now get off the bed, kneel down, and suck my cock again!"
The young blonde bride quivered in humiliation at his shocking demand, but she knew she had to do as she was told. There was something in his cruel tone of voice that told her instinctively that if she didn't obey him tonight he would become quite vicious. The humiliated blonde knew now that the gentleness he had exhibited earlier was only a pose, a sadistic trick to fool her into thinking everything would be easy. Miserably, she got up from the bed and sank to her knees before the naked man. Immediately he placed both his hands on her head, holding her face only inches from the hotly swollen shaft of his protruding cock.
"Kiss, my dear, kiss it as though you really loved it!" As she leaned forward, brushing her wetly parted lips against the velvet flesh of the cock head, Max suddenly began to push it into her mouth, shoving it in. Candy almost choked as he forced it deep into her throat. "Now suck it, my sweet, really suck it good."
He pressed his hugely erect rod of male flesh further and further into her tortured mouth while her mind screamed in torment from what was happening to her. The horrified young blonde tried to pull back from him, but each time he moved forward, thrusting his thickened rod further into her futilely resisting mouth. Roughly he began to buck his hips back and forth, holding her head tightly with his hands, and to groan wildly.
My God, she realized in terror, he's going to cum already! He's going to cum in my mouth! The other night when she had done this for him, she had still been slightly under the effects of the aphrodisiac. But tonight?
"Suck it," he cried in ecstasy, bringing himself roughly toward climax, "harder, harder!"
Drew's tortured bride found herself sucking desperately at his enormously swollen, viciously thrusted organ, confused and horrified by the strangeness of his behavior now that he had her alone. He began to force his straining penis faster and faster into her sucking mouth, his fingers clenching tightly to her hair as he moaned in rampant pleasure.
But his words were lost to the wildly sucking young wife as he suddenly erupted hot, rushing spurts of fluid into her mouth. Candy struggled desperately to swallow as quickly as she could to avoid choking, as the thin businessman shot an endless stream of scalding semen deep into her throat. Then, finally the flooding liquid slowed, though his penis remained stiff and throbbing for several moments more. Drew's wife felt weak and dazed as he finally withdrew his dwindling cock from her mouth and the whitish liquid dribbled lewdly from her lips and down across her chin. She collapsed to the floor, crying and sobbing miserably.
Contemptuously, Schlessinger picked the sobbing girl up from the floor and threw her onto the bed as if she was a sack of flour, rolling her onto her stomach so that her naked breasts pressed down into the mattress. Then he ambled to the other side of the bed, licked his lips obscenely and reveled in the sounds of the miserable girl's gasping sobs of humiliation.
As Candy felt the sadistic businessman crawl onto the bed beside her, tremors of shame and revulsion again ran through her savagely abused young body.
Oh please, God, no, she screamed inwardly, can't take any more.
He began to run his hands up and down her back roughly, and Drew's tortured bride shuddered in fear, cursing herself for being so naive to think the evening would go easily. She was trapped, at the mercy of a brute who had nothing on his mind but humiliating her further.
Max Schlessinger slid further down on the bed and then positioned himself so that he straddled the back of her thighs, sitting above her, then bending his lean, bony frame forward to run his grasping hands up her legs until he grabbed the tensely quivering softness of her naked ass cheeks. Lewdly he began to massage them with his fingers, molding them like putty, massaging them, relaxing them. He continued this for almost five minutes without saying a word, hearing nothing but the confused, unhappy moans from the trapped young bride. Finally he could feel her tightened thigh and buttock muscles begin to relax and he smiled darkly to himself.
Candy lay beneath his massaging hands trying to resist any movement he made toward her, but finally found herself succumbing to the warm pleasure his probing hands induced in her abused flesh. She couldn't understand why he was doing this, massaging her buttocks with the same gentleness he had shown her before. Yet even though she hated him, and now completely distrusted every move, his touch was so tender and pleasant that her flesh rippled with warmly erotic sensations. The disgrace that she had experienced only moments ago seemed to be disappearing and the bewildered young wife found herself relaxing as he continued to run his hands and fingers across her resiliently upraised ass cheeks, encircling each in his wide palms and running his thumbs side by side down between the shadowed crevice separating them. Occasionally his fingers would brush teasingly across the small tight circle of her anus and then further down to touch the moistening lips of her vagina, each move sending tremors of warm excitement sizzling through the blonde bride's flesh.
Max Schlessinger relished the control he had over the pianist's desirable young wife. He had always been an unattractive person, too thin and plain to have real success with women. He had been almost twenty, in fact, before he had really touched a girl, and he had had to pay for that one. He had vowed that he would become rich enough one day to have any woman he wanted, with enough money to make up for what he lacked in appearance. Now he had plenty, more than enough to buy any niece of ass he fancied. Yet still his inferiority complex about his looks remained, and he resented all women for being unable to see past his surface appearance. Now, when he had a woman in his power, he always, in some way, made her Day for his torment. His eyes narrowed into knife-like slits as he gazed down at Candy's buttocks, arching and falling beneath his touch, and desire, rough and insistent, began to surge in his loins.
Beneath his hands, Candy was losing control of her senses. The young bride began to squirm excitedly at his almost-magical touch, and a hot rush of pleasure churned in her belly, growing more intense with every moment. She tried desperately to keep hold of herself, to resist the feelings that crept relentlessly into her ravaged flesh, trying to stifle back the lewd guttural moans of rising desire that escaped her lips.
Oh Drew, she thought miserably, what am I going to do?
The tortured wife could not resist the delicious throbs of pleasure that enveloped her naked young body, no matter how much she tried.
"Ahhhhhhhh...." she sighed, involuntarily, hating herself for responding like a common street whore. Why was her body betraying her like this? Was her passion so strong that anyone, even someone as loathsome and vile as Max Schlessinger, could tap the currents of her desire by a few gentle strokes? Was she so weak that she was the prey of any man? But despite her struggle to resist the flames of steadily rising passion, it was no use. Max's expert caresses were driving her wild with lust and suddenly she found herself calling out to him.
"Oh ... oh ... fuck me ... you've got to ..
"What, my dear? What should I do?" he inquired teasingly, knowing full well he was in full possession of her now.
"Fuck me ... I want you to fuck me!" She couldn't stand it a minute longer, her vaginal passage was palpitating with unsatisfied lust; she had to have a hotly throbbing cock to satisfy her and it didn't matter whose! "PLEASE!"
"Well, I'd be glad to oblige, my sweet, glad to." A surge of triumph tore through the businessman's lean, bony body. "If you'll simply put your sweet little ass up in the air. Now!"
Obediendy, half-delirious with insistent sensuality, Candy arched her hips, raising her naked buttocks high into the air. Max reached down with his hands, pulling her to her knees until finally she knelt before him on the old-fashioned canopied bed on all fours, her wildly aroused body trembling in anticipation, desperate for him to cum inside of her and make her cum.
Max probed at her tentatively with his lust-swollen penis, searching for the hotly throbbing moistness of her vaginal lips. Her warmly pulsing buttocks seemed to clasp at his jerking rod of male flesh as he guided it with his hand down the smooth white crevice, past her tiny puckering anus, to the eagerly twitching opening that awaited him. His stiffened shaft brushed across the fleecy golden softness of her pubic hair and finally came to rest at the moist flesh of her love-hungry pussy. His caresses had aroused her to the point where now her vaginal juices had already lubricated her with steaming wetness that made it easy for him to glide his hotly swollen cock into the warmly clasping passage between her legs.
Drew's young wife nearly cried out in delight as he finally slid his pulsating hardness up into her cock-starved vaginal passage. It was as if a huge log was being thrust into her belly, but her greedily receptive pussy quivered and rippled with a lewd pleasure.
"Uuunnnnnngggggh ... yes ... yyeeeessssss ... put it into me ... all of it ... I want to feel every inch of you inside of me! Hurry!"
Max grinned obscenely, his cruel lips curling back over his teeth, as he began to fuck into her with long, powerful strokes, relishing the sight of his wetly glistening penis moving in and out of the kneeling young bride's tight little vagina. He could feel the muscles deep inside of her cunt flexing and constricting against his swollen rod of male flesh as he thrust deeper and deeper into the hot buttery depths of her pussy. Then, teasingly, he began to withdraw from her, chuckling with sadistic pleasure as she squirmed backwards trying to pull him inside of her once more.
"Please Max," she groaned, helplessly dominated by an overwhelming sexual desire, "please come back into me ... you've got to fuck me ... PLEASE!"
But the hotly aroused businessman paid no attention to her pleading groans, and instead he withdrew completely and began to rub his wildly shuddering penis up and down against the white slippery moistness that coated her pussy lips, until finally his rigidly erect cock was covered completely with a thin film of her liquid passion.
"Max, oh Max, I beg you to fuck me," she groaned in animal abandon, oblivious to every thing but the deeply demanding, unsatisfied need that enslaved her. "Oh God, please...."
The lean tormentor took his long hard penis in his hand and guided it carefully towards the tightly clenched ring of her anus. With a lewd grin, he nudged the lust-swollen cock head against her wildly puckering anal hole.
At that moment, through the blinding passion that tormented her, Candy realized what he was going to do and cried out in terror. "No Max, no! I can't take it! It's too big! NOOOOO!"
Ignoring her cry, Max grabbed the cheeks of her buttocks, pulling her hard against him and groaning, thrust his hips viciously forward, forcing his way into the rubbery tightness of her painfully stretched rectum. He paid no attention to her agonized wails as he rammed his thickened hardness deeper and deeper into her tightly constricted channel, relishing the pain he inflicted upon the helplessly kneeling blonde.
Candy thrashed and writhed in anguish, trying to escape the brutal impalement of her virginal rectum; the pain was worse than anything she had ever experienced in her young life, and she thought she was going to faint from the intensity of it. Finally, all movement stopped, and Drew's bride realized his long thick penis was all the way up inside her rectal sheath. As he remained motionless, the pain slowly began to subside, leaving only a heavy, aching fire inside of her cock-filled belly. She felt his hand move down, and his fingers slide under her stomach and into her wetly pulsating vagina. His fingers moved against the thin membrane that separated them from his huge cock that was buried so deeply into her tortured rectum. He stroked her that way for a moment, then used his thumb and forefinger to massage her clitoris. Imperceptibly, she began to feel the return of her earlier wild excitement, and flashes of a savage, not-to-be-denied desire took control of her entire being. Helplessly, ignoring the pain and torment, the submissively kneeling wife began to move back and forth against him, urging him to continue.
"Oh, yes, Max. Do it to me. Hurt me. Rip me to shreds if you want to, only fuck me, fuck me, FUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKK MMMEEEEEEEE!"
Gleefully, Max began to brutally thrust his cock in and out of her wide-stretched little anus, all the while using his fingers to fuck her wetly pulsing pussy. Passion mounted quickly until the furiously copulating pair were grunting and screaming wildly in the throes of their excessive passion, driving themselves into a frenzy of pure animal lust. Max thrust his knifing cock mercilessly into Candy's burning rectal depths, and Drew's brutalized young wife, caught in a maelstrom of passion, writhed and screamed like a madwoman, urging him to fuck her even harder.
"Can you feel me, you filthy cunt?" Max cried out lewdly. "Can you feel my prick in your asshole, cutting you to pieces? DO YOU LIKE IT? DO YOU LIKE IT BITCH?"
"Oh God yessssss, YEEEEESSSSSS! KILL ME WITH YOUR COCK! FUCK MY ASS HARDER, HARDER! Aaaaaiiiieeeeee! LIKE THAT!"
She screamed words at him she'd never said aloud before. She screamed every obscenity she'd ever heard at the vulgar thin man who sodomized her with such pounding ferocity and made her love it!
"More ... more ... ram it into my asshole! Fuck me up the ass until I can't stand it anymore! AAARRRRRGGGHHHHHHHH!"
And Max roared back at her as well, screaming obscenities and yelling out the delicious, savage excitement that rocked hiss bony frame. All the pain and rejection he'd experienced since his youth came out in a vicious tirade. He slammed his naked body without mercy against her defenselessly upturned ass cheeks, pounding against her buttocks like a barbaric animal in a fever of unbridled lust.
"I'm cumming," Candy began to groan finally, "CUUUUUMMMMIINNNGGG! AAAAIIIEEEEEEEEM"
Schlessinger increased the brutual thrusts into her tightly puckering anus until he felt his own seed beginning to boil up in his cum-filled balls. Then, simultaneously, the illicit lovers reached the blinding apex of their passion, explosions of scalding hot sperm shot like cannon blasts out of Max's wildly ejaculating penis and travelled deep into the contracting heat of Candy's sodomized anal passage. Drew's sex-crazed young wife screamed again and again in uncontrollable excitement as the white sperm ricocheted deep in her forever-stretched rectum. It seemed to last forever, a hurricane of unbridled passion, a wild blazing storm of color, pain and masochistic pleasure. Finally, the peak was passed, and Candy fell forward onto the old-fashioned bed, totally exhausted from the excess of forbidden lust.
Max, equally weary, threw himself down onto the soft bed beside her, breathing heavily, drained from his labors. There was no sound in the room save for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace and the ticking of an antique Grandfather's clock that stood nearby, impassively recording the passage of time.
Finally, with a deep sigh of pleasure, Max said, "Okay, kid. You can go now. You can spend the weekend if you want, but we aren't going to top what we just did."
CHAPTER FIVE
An hour later Candy James sat exhausted in the back seat of the chauffered Mercedes Benz on her way to the Star Club. She had fulfilled her promise to Lou Grady, she had let Max do anything he wanted to her, and now she wanted her payment; the cancelled debt and the contract with Arcade Records. The abused young wife knew she could have waited until the next day, but she wanted it now, so she could bring it to Drew. At least that might take the edge off the deep sense of humiliation and shame she felt. The persistent throbbing ache in her buttocks reminded her over and over of what she had done, and she could only sit in the comforting darkness of the spacious car and try and put it all out of her mind.
Finally the sleek auto pulled up in front of the Star Club and Candy stepped out, walking directly into the club without even a backward glance toward the slyly smiling driver. At first she hoped that Drew would still be there, but she soon realized that the last show was finished for the night and that he'd probably gone home. Glancing around, she looked for Lou Grady but he wasn't in the main club and she guessed he was probably in the Annex. Finally she went to the hat-check counter to talk to Adele, who had the late shift.
"Grady? Oh, I think he's in Haver's private suite. He's here tonight ... Haver, I mean, and there's some kind of party going on." .
Walter Haver rarely stayed long at the club, and his presence always seemed to create an air of suppressed excitement among the employees. The wealthy owner of the Star Club was usually flying some place or another taking care of his many interests. Candy went to the house phone and asked that a call be put through to the suite's special switchboard. After giving her name it seemed like several moments before she heard Grady's voice at the other end.
"Well, Candy baby, nice to hear from you. I understand you and Max had a real good time. Got a cherry, didn't he?" A shudder of disgust passed through the blonde wife's compact frame at his voice. "Come on up to the suite, doll, and I'll give you your prize, okay? I'll tell Carlos to let you in."
Moments later Candy rode up in the silent elevator and wondered how it would be to face the muscular Puerto Rican and Lou again. But when Carlos admitted her there was absolutely no sign of recognition. He just nodded slightly and, taking her arm, led her through the crowd to a table where Lou was laughing and talking with several men, men whose faces she recognized from newspapers or from television.
"Candy, nice to see you!" Grady said, smiling, as she came toward them. "I'll be with you in a minute, I got some important deals goin' with these gentlemen here. Only take a minute. Just ask the spic to make you a drink, okay?" At the word "spic" Candy felt the hand at her elbow tense momentarily, and turning, she saw a flicker of hatred pass across Carlos's handsome, usually impassive face. In the next moment, however, it vanished, and he calmly led her to the bar and poured her a drink.
Drew's wife drank slowly and glanced around the luxurious room, her eyes avoiding the bedroom door. It was a select crowd, people important enough to get past the Annex and into Haver's private quarters. She recognized several movies stars and television personalities, plus the usual fat, faceless businessmen that always seemed to show up at these gatherings. And, of course, there were the girls. No wives or girl friends to mar the festive atmosphere, of course, rather these were all heavily made-up females, with provocative clothes and hard, knowing looks in their eyes. Candy knew instinctively that they were call girls, each one looking vaguely like the other, each with a natural ability to be little more than a decoration, a play-toy.
At that moment Candy noticed that one of the men in the room was staring intently at her, a tall man, vastly more distinguished looking than the others, with dark, silver-streaked hair, dressed immaculately in a pearl-grey suit with blue shirt and tie. It was Walter Haver, the legendary Walter Haver! Candy had seen him fleetingly once or twice before, but now he seemed to be staring at her openly. Their eyes met briefly, and there was a strange, electric charge that seemed to pass between them. In the next instant, Haver turned away and resumed talking to someone.
"Well, baby, here you are. For you and Drew. Now scram."
It was Grady, appearing almost out of nowhere and handing Candy a large brown envelope. In the next moment he was gone....
Fifteen minutes later, Candy sat in a small restaurant, sipping slowly on a cup of coffee and staring at the brown envelope before her on the table. It seemed almost impossible to believe that she finally had what she wanted, that after all the heartache and misery Lou Grady had really given her the key to her future, hers and Drew's. But there it was. Finally, she put down the coffee cup and with trembling fingers she tore open the envelope. She wanted to see that contract in black and white. Reaching inside she pulled out the contents.
Oh no ... no, she gasped as she realized that there was no contract at all, but rather some photographs, along with a note. Then she moaned so audibly that several of the patrons of the restaurant turned round to see what was wrong! Candy was oblivious to their curious stares; her eyes were riveted to the pictures: photographs of her being brutally fucked by Carlos! Tears began to stream hotly down her cheeks as she read the note enclosed with the obscene pictures: Come to the suite tomorrow night at 8:30, Mrs. James. Maybe we can make an arrangement about the negatives. P.S. You might do very well in Hollywood.
Blindly she ripped the note and the photographs to shreds, as if to tear them out of her memory and destroy them forever. But she realized, to her unhappiness, that until she had the negatives there would always be more copies of the pictures to haunt her for the rest of her life. Miserably, she put the torn pieces back into the envelope then walked out of the restaurant into the warm Chicago night. The pianist's young wife was numb now. There were no more tears. She walked like a robot back to the hotel.
As she climbed the stairs toward the apartment, she heard low moans, and, reaching the landing, she saw a figure slumped on the floor outside her door. At first she thought it was a drunk, a filthy bum who had passed out, but as she drew closer she realized with a gasp of horror that it was ... Drew!
"Oh God!" She cried, kneeling next to him. He was nearly unconscious, and there was dirt and spots of blood on his face and clothes. "Oh my God, Drew, what happened, what happened!"
"I ... I ... oh Candy ... I'm hurt."
Clumsily his wife struggled to get him to his feet, and finally she managed to get him inside the apartment. Her heart pounded fearfully as she helped him to the bed. Turning on the light she ran to his side.
"Oh darling what happened to you? What is it?" She searched his face frantically for cuts and injuries but there were none. His clothes were filthy, as if he'd been rolling in mud, and through the tears in his shirt she could see bruises on his chest. Then quickly, instinctively, she looked at his hands and breathed a deep sigh of relief to see that nothing had happened to them.
"No ... no, Candy," he said as if he knew what she had been thinking. "They didn't touch my hands. They said they were saving that for the next time. They said that Lou still wanted his money ... and that they were going to take it out in trade with ... with you ... until they were satisfied ... and that if we went to the police or ran away they'd follow us ... oh God, Candy ... oh, God!"
He began to cry and held tightly to his wife, holding her like a lost child.
Candy held him, comforted him, whispered words of endearment, told him it would be all right. But she knew now that it wouldn't be all right. They were trapped. Like flies in a spider's web they were the victims of Lou Grady and his henchmen. They could do anything they wanted now to both of them. They had Drew's hands-and her body. Like property. Like ... like slaves. There were no tears now from the pretty blonde's green eyes. What was the use of tears? It was over. Over and done.
CHAPTER SIX
Drew James played the next night as never before. A single spotlight illuminated him, as his fingers ran deftly over the keyboard keeping his audience spellbound, with a rendition of Harbor Lights. When he finished, and the lights went up, the crowd went crazy, showering the handsome, muscular young pianist with a standing ovation. His wife sat in the rear of the club, with tears in her eyes. She was moved not only by the brilliant, melancholic performance of her husband, but by the misery and unhappiness of their lives as well.
If only this audience knew, she thought, if they only knew the truth about the Star Club, of the brutality of Lou Grady. If they could only see the bruises and wounds on Drew's body, maybe they would be so outraged that they would help.
But then the sad young blonde realized that nobody would believe her. They would think she was making up a story, or was some kind of a nut. That sort of thing only happened in movies didn't it? Or on television. No, there was nothing to be done. They had been foolish and naive, involving themselves with gangsters without realizing it, and now there was nothing to be done, nothing except what Grady wanted them to do.
"Hey, Candy, what's the matter?" It was Bill, the sandy-haired, genial bartender. He had a break from the bar and came over to the pianist's wife's table. "You're crying."
"Oh, don't ask, Bill ... maybe I'll tell you someday. I know I'll have to tell someone." She wiped away her tears and squared her shoulders defiantly. "Sit down, Bill. Have a drink."
"Thanks, Candy, but I've got to get back to the bar. I just thought maybe you were in trouble. Thought I could help."
"Nobody can help, Bill, nobody. But thanks anyway. You're a real friend."
"Well, just remember, if you do want to talk, I'm ready to listen. Anytime."
"Thanks. I'll remember that."
"Good. I've got to go now. Take care, Candy.
Drew was great tonight, wasn't he? Jesus, he plays with such feeling."
"Yes...."
As Bill walked back to the bar he wondered if Candy James's unhappiness had anything to do with her husband's red-haired agent.
I'm sure it is, he thought. Lou's probably holding something on Drew, maybe something about his gambling ... whatever it is he's got Drew and Candy wrapped around his little finger. I like those two a hell of a lot, and if I ever thought that pudgy bastard was putting the screws to them....
The sandy-haired bartender had been at the Star Club a long time, and there wasn't much that went on there that he didn't know about. There wasn't a girl in the place who didn't come to him at one time or another to cry on his shoulder about Lou Grady and what he forced them to do. Bill knew full well that the unscrupulous agent and manager was taking his own little percentage from what the girls made, not just the waitresses and hat-check girls, but the fancy whores who decorated the Annex and even Harver's private suite. He knew that if Harver knew about the dirty business Grady pulled he would make things very unpleasant for the cocky agent. He had always kept what he knew to himself, knowing that one day it would come in handy. And it seemed to the bartender that that day might just be close at hand. Particularly if Grady was hurting Candy James.
Maybe I'd be going out on a limb, he thought to himself, as he cleaned glasses at the bar, but it would do my heart good to see that cheap punk Grady get back a little of what he's always dishing out. Oh, it would do my heart good....
At eight-thirty, Candy arrived, as ordered in the note, to Haver's suite.
I don't care about those photographs, she thought to herself as she touched up her makeup before ringing the doorbell, but I can't let them hurt Drew. I've got to play along until I find some way to get us out of this. And I will find a way. I swear to God I will.
Carlos answered the door when she finally rang, and took her velvet stole as she stepped into the huge living room. It's strange, she thought, as she looked at the powerful Puerto Rican. Even after what happened here that first night, somehow I feel he's my friend. Maybe the only friend I have up here.
"Hello, Carlos," she said warmly, smiling.
"Evening, Messus James," he replied, returning her smile. "Nice to see you."
Glancing into the room, Drew's young wife was surprised to see that there were about ten other girls in the room, many of whom she had seen the previous evening, plus the usual assortment of celebrities and businessmen.
"Carlos, could you make me a drink? A strong one."
"Yes, Senora, weeth pleasure."
"Looks like they're planning quite a party tonight."
"Yes ... always a party. You come with me." He took her by the elbow and led her through the sleek modern room to the bar, where he mixed her a drink. "You take care of yourself," he said, handling it to her, "you take care, yes?"
"I'll try Carlos. I'll do my best."
Candy sat at the barstool, as Carlos moved off with a tray of drinks to distribute, and tried to project a calmness and sophistication she didn't feel. She had no idea what to expect that night, she knew only that she would have to do whatever Lou wanted so there was nothing to do but compose herself and make the best of it.
"Hi, mind if I join you?"
It was one of the girls, a tall girl, with jet black hair that was pulled back into a French twist; she had an aristocratic face, with high cheekbones, and dark, smoldering eyes. Drew's wife guessed that perhaps the girl had American Indian blood, judging from her looks. In any case, the girl was stunning, except for that hardened, somewhat abused quality that the young blonde had noticed in all the girls in the suite.
"Sure, sit down," Candy said.
"My name's Buffy," the girl said, her voice warm and friendly. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
"No ... this ... this is my first time." There was a nervous tremor in her voice as she spoke.
"Hey, you seem a little scared. How the hell did Grady get you into this? 'Course, that's none of my business, you don't have to say anything. I talk too much. But listen, there's nothing to be afraid of. You get used to it after awhile. What's your name, honey?"
"Candy...."
"Nice name. Though I guess that's probably not your real name, huh? Most of the girls don't use their real name. But it doesn't matter, nothing matters up here."
"Buffy ... tell me, what goes on up here? What's going to happen?"
"Oh, the usual. The guys drink and talk and gamble a little. Get drunk, lose money, make deals ... and you just stand around and tell them how cute and sexy they are, make them think they're really something. Same old crap."
"Who are they?"
"Oh, listen we get the cream of the crop up here. Look, that guy over there is Ray Marlow, used to be a big star of "B" pictures in the fifties. He had a television series, too. The Man from Fort Smith, or something like that. And that's Buddy Webster, the singer. Remember "Call Me After Dark?" It was number one for five weeks, 'course it was in 1964, but the guy still does club dates and makes a record now and then. And, honey, last night I was with Randy Hughes, the son of that rich lady who makes all those lipsticks. The racing driver, you know the banking guy from New York. Honey, he sure knows how to use what he's got. He's fat, you know, but it doesn't matter, he gets around just fine. We were right in there," she pointed to the bedroom door, the same bedroom where Candy had been brutally abused by Carlos and Grady. "You haven't seen it yet, I know, but they got quite a setup in there. Even got a gambling table. Crazy, isn't it?"
The nervous young blonde wanted to tell Buffy that, yes, she had been in there already, but decided to stay quiet. Besides, the tall brunette kept on chattering away, relating story after story about the famous men she'd slept with.
. and he told me that I was the best lay he'd had in twelve years. How about that? Then he gave me this costume to put on ... it was made out of rubber, you know, really tight, and hot as hell, made me look like a scuba diver or something, but it really got him off. Said he dug rubber cause his old man had something to do with Pneumo Tires. Christ I had to wear that rubber outfit for four hours, did all kinds of crazy things. But it was fun, you know?"
Buffy's stories relaxed Candy, and the young blonde bride had to laugh. They were interrupted by the arrival of Lou Grady, dressed in a white summer suit and black shirt. Candy thought he looked like Peter Lorre in some old South Seas movie.
"Well, Candy, what a surprise to see you. Never know who's gonna turn up these days."
Drew's bride had to resist the impulse to once again throw her drink into the repulsive agent's face. She felt nothing but contempt for the crude, red-haired man.
"Hello Lou," she said coolly.
"Hey, Buffy, scram," the agent snapped, "I want to be alone with the lady."
"Okay, okay," the tall brunette said, "you don't have to get huffy."
"Yeah, it's nice to see you Candy," Grady said after Buffy walked away. Sorry about those photos ... and about Drew. But, you know, I gotta let you two know where things stand. You just play along now and you don't have to worry. Just stay in line and nothin's gonna happen.
Despite her decision to play along with Grady, his words made a well of anger rise up in her, and she had to turn away to control it The agent noticed her reaction, grabbed her chin brutally and turned her head around.
"Listen bitch, you pay attention when I'm talking, you got that? Seems to me you need to learn a little more discipline yet. I'd of thought you'd learned your lesson by now."
At that moment there was a hush in the room, as all conversation stopped and all eyes turned to the front door. Walter Haver came into the room.
There was no mistaking that handsome, almost-noble face, and the penetrating clarity of his blue eyes. He was dressed in an expensive, beige-colored suit, with a brown shirt and gold tie. The legendary millionaire walked into the room with an easy nonchalance and silently surveyed his guests, smiling and nodding occasionally. There was no question who the top man was, you could see it in the eyes of everyone in the room. Every man wished he was Walter Haver, wealthy, cultured, distinguished. Every girl wished she was on his arm as his date, his friend, his whore, or his wife. For a moment the handsome millionaire caught sight of Candy, and once more his eyes locked with hers, then he turned his attention back to the crowd.
"Have fun, ladies and gentlemen," he said in a low, masculine voice, "remember you only live once."
Everyone laughed, and at once the talk resumed as Haver walked over to the bar to join Grady.
"Mr. Haver," the heavy-set agent fawned politely, "this is Candy James, the new girl ... the one you asked me about."
"Hello, Candy," Haver said, smiling warmly at the girl. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Thank you," she replied, feeling oddly sheepish in his presence.
In the next moment he was gone, accompanied by Grady, disappearing into the crowd of partygoers.
During the next hour the door seemed to open continuously as new guests arrived, and soon the room was quite crowded. There was plenty of liquor, and as the drinks were passed around the laughter increased, the betting at the gambling tables got heavier, and the crowd loosened up considerably. To Drew's young wife it seemed like any other cocktail party, except for the illicit gambling and the celebrities. In truth, she had to admit it was a rather pleasant gathering. No one had made any overt advances toward her, and the men who spoke to her were actully rather polite and gentlemanly. Yet, there was an undeniable tension in the air, a hushed kind of excitement that promised something more. The apprehensive blonde girl knew that things would change before long, and she wondered how it would be.
She wandered casually around the huge room, making sure her glass was always filled. She knew that the only way she would be able to get through the evening, no matter what was in store, would be to keep her mind numb with alcohol. It seemed so strange; only a few days ago she was the wife of a successful young pianist, with nothing but happiness ahead for both of them. Now she was the victim of blackmail, a slave to a bunch of despicable crooks, forced to do whatever Lou Grady wanted. There seemed no way out. Yet, here at this fancy cocktail party nothing at all seemed, at least on the surface, to be wrong. The naive young wife was surrounded by laughter and merrymaking, an atmosphere that, to the casual observer, was completely harmless, even attractive.
Candy noticed that all of the girls seemed to be drinking champagne and the men bourbon or scotch. But for her, the champagne didn't seem to bring on the alcoholic numbness she desperately wanted and so she switched to brandy. Soon, the stronger drink began to have its effect and the nervous blonde began to feel more at ease. Even when one of the more obnoxious men pinched her rather painfully on the rear, she was able to laugh it off coyly, and slip away from him into the crowd.
There was quite a bit of gambling going on, and Candy knew that one of the prime attractions of both the Annex and the private suite was the illegal practice. As far as she knew this was the only place in all of Chicago where it went on, and she guessed that Haver's fortune allowed him to pay off the right people to keep it going. It amazed her to see how much money the men threw around at the crap and blackjack tables. It was as if they had all they could ever want, and it didn't bother them in the least to throw it away. A far cry, she realized bitterly, from the situation she and Drew faced, where a few thousand dollars meant the difference between freedom and slavery.
Gradually a change began to come over the room, the atmosphere became more freewheeling and frantic. The betting got more reckless, the laughing and shouting increased to an almost-frenzied excitement. Everyone was growing more and more drunk and calling for round after round of drinks. The pianist's young wife was glad she had switched to brandy, for she could feel herself growing extremely lightheaded and drunk.
"Havin' a good time, baby?" It was Grady, appearing almost as if out of nowhere.
"Yes ... yes, I am, Lou," she replied, too intoxicated now to play games with the sleazy agent.
"Great, doll. That's what I like to hear. I brought you a drink."
"I've already got one."
"Aw, that's kid's stuff. You drink this." He handed her a glass. "It's guaranteed to get you off and take the edge off things. Come on, take it. You don't have to be afraid of me."
She took the glass without arguing, wondering why Lou was being so unusually cordial to her. The bulky club manager patted her on the shoulders and walked off.
Sipping the drink, Candy found something familiar about the flavor, although she couldn't remember from where. It made her feel warm and alive, and she began to sway slightly to the party music that came out of hidden speakers on the walls. It was strange, but as she watched the boisterous crowd, she felt almost as if she was really watching a movie. The noise and laughter seemed to be filtered through a softening haze and the people moving almost gracefully, like dancers in slow motion.
A circle of spectators had formed in the center of the enormous room, and Candy noticed that one of the girls had begun to do a parody of a striptease, removing her clothes provocatively as the crowd laughed and clapped in encouragement. Drew's young wife felt almost as if she wanted to join the girl in stripping off her own clothes, the room was so hot and smoky. It would have been pleasant to get out of the snug-fitting cocktail dress she wore. The gambling seemed to take second place now to the beginnings of lovemaking and everywhere the drunk young blonde saw the men begin to paw and caress their female companions, and the sight of so much erotic activity seemed to affect her strongly. A current of erotic desire began to flow through her body.
It must be this drink, she thought to herself, that makes me feel so strange. She noticed that everyone began drinking now from a cut-glass decanter, and she dimly wondered if there was something special in the drink she didn't know about. But her body reeled with pleasant, delicious sensations, and her mind seemed freed of its anxiety. The blackmailed blonde bride felt wonderfully euphoric, and, of course, had no way of knowing she was once more the victim of the powerful, conscience-killing aphrodisiac that Lou had used so liberally the first time she had visited the suite.
Carlos began to toss satin pillows on the floor in the middle of the room, and Candy was curious about what they would be used for. Everyone began to whisper among themselves, giggling. Soon the loud laughter and gambling came to a halt, and everyone settled on chairs and pillows in a circle, leaving a space open in the center of the room. Finally Lou Grady planted himself in the center of the room, grinning obscenely from ear to ear, and began to talk to the crowd.
"Okay gents and ladies, this is the moment we've all been waiting for. Time to get away from the gambling and the money and get into somethin' more basic, if you know what I mean. And just to give everybody a little boost, I thought we'd have a little show, something to get you all in the mood."
The men snickered knowingly, and Candy thought she saw flickers of apprehension, even fear, on the girls' faces.
"Carlos," Grady went on, "why don't you get yourself ready while we have a little drawing." Obediently, the handsome, powerful Puerto Paean left the main room and disappeared into the bedroom. "Now, I have here a bowl with a bunch of names in it. Names from all the chicks in the room." He held the bowl out to a man nearby. "Reach in there and pick out a slip of paper." The man took a paper from out of the bowl and handed it to the red-haired agent. "Okay, the luck winner is Buffyl"
Candy watched as the tall brunette joined Grady in the center of the circle. Everyone murmured approval, and Drew's young wife was curious what would be required of her new-found friend.
"Hello, Buffy," Lou said, leering at the ravishing female's spectacularly rounded frame. "Terrific ain't she, guys?" She kissed him on the cheek, laughing, although Candy could see that the brunette didn't quite know what was coming next. "You'll be great honey, just great. But, I think maybe you're too dressed up, huh? Come on, gents, lets help Buffy get into her birthday suit."
He nudged her toward the man standing just in front of her and she smiled somewhat nervously as the man unzipped her dress. Then other men moved forward anxiously and began to help her remove her clothes. The room was filled once more with loud laughter and cheers as each garment was thrown into the air. Then, there was a hush as the exquisite girl stood there completely naked, the lights making her tawny, roundly curving body glisten like gold.
I ... I wonder what's going to happen next, Candy wondered, feeling concern for the girl she had befriended earlier that evening. But she noted that Buffy seemed to be taking it all in her stride.
The crowd edged forward and waited for Grady to speak again. Tension and suppressed lust hung in the air like a fog as they watched the bulky agent run his fingertips across the brunette girl's firmly erect nipples.
"Okay now, Buffy, you all set?"
"Sure, Lou, you know it. But what's gonna happen tonight? Don't keep me in suspense."
As if in answer to her question, the bedroom door opened and Carlos entered, his powerful body stark naked except for a studded black leather loin cloth that barely covered the huge mound of his cock and balls. The crowd gasped as he entered, and they all realized what was going to happen. Carlos approached the girl and, when he stood only a few feet in front of her, he whipped away the loincloth revealing the massive fullness of his naked penis, already half-erect, and the swollen hairy balls swaying beneath. The crowd was visibly impressed by the Puerto Rican's endowments, and Candy was once more astonished by his size.
Apparently Buffy hadn't quite expected this, for she shrank slightly away from the giant Latin bodyguard, obviously a little concerned about what was going to happen, particularly as she noticed, as well, the mammoth size of the dark-skinned man's shaft of male flesh. But Grady kept her firmly in the center of the room.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, ain't nothing to get frightened of. We won't let Carlos hurt you."
He winked at the crowd, then grinned lewdly as he indicated for Buffy to lay down on her back on the pillows.
As Drew's young wife watched, wide-eyed, the muscular Puerto Rican began to caress the reclining girl's naked body, his dark hands sliding sensuously across the velvety flesh of the ravishing brunette. He touched her everywhere, her full, thrusting breasts, her smooth stomach, the sculpted columns of her thighs, while the crowd watched the lewdly exciting scene in rapt silence. Nobody seemed to want to break the stillness, or interrupt the sensuous act before them.
Then, gradually, Buffy began to groan in mounting excitement as Carlos toyed with the mound of her pink-lipped vaginal flesh. Her mewling groans grew louder and louder, and the crowd began to talk excitedly and move closer to see more of the action. Candy felt her legs grow slightly weak as Buffy began to plead for the muscular bodyguard to fuck her, half-delirious from the excitement and from the drug that she, as well as the others, had imbibed generously at Grady's insistence.
Carlos rolled over on his back and lay there passively as Buffy began to hungrily lick at his dark, shining skin with her long, wetly extended tongue, and to run her hands over every inch of his spectacularly muscled body. A fever of lust seemed to be building up in the room as everyone watched the obscene sight before them. Candy, strongly affected by the drugged drink, felt as if her body was half on fire as she watched Carlos's penis begin to jerk into full erection until it reached its full size. Another audible gasp went through the room when everyone saw exactly how big the Puerto Rican's rod of flesh actually was, then men nodding approval and carefully concealing their jealousy, and the females staring at it greedily, wishing, in their drunken state, that they were Buffy, the lucky recipient of that proudly stiffened spear. The spellbound blonde wife, half-conscious of her actions, found herself drawn toward the circle of onlookers, helplessly fascinated and unaware that Lou Grady was watching her every move with lewd satisfaction, licking his lips in anticipation of what he had in mind for the unsuspecting young bride.
Carlos rolled over once more, this time pinning the brunette beneath him. Quickly, almost hysterically, Buffy reached down and grasped the Peurto Rican's rigidly extended cock and drew it with trembling hands toward her eagerly proffered vaginal entrance. She spread her knees wide open and curled her long lithe legs around his muscled buttocks to give him even greater access to her vaginal opening.
Candy watched breathlessly, unable to believe that Carlos's massive organ could possibly go into Buffy's seemingly narrow entrance. She leaned forward, her eyes seeing nothing except the great, dark, glistening head of his body jerking cock as it began to insinuate its way between the brunette's soft, pink vaginal lips. The room was now in total silence, all eyes upon the lewd couple as the Latin bodyguard edged his straining cock further and further into the hungrily waiting female's cunt, slowly and gently, pushing the hair-lined lips wider and wider apart. Buffy cried in an obscene mixture of pain and pleasure as the massively pulsing shaft sank deeper and deeper up between her straining thighs. Several of the women murmured with anxious concern that the dark-skinned man was too big, that he would hurt the girl, but the men hooted them down with jeers and taunts.
Finally, Carlos held still above the excited female until she could adjust to the hugeness of his powerfully throbbing cock in her belly. Gradually her face relaxed as the pain of his entrance eased.
"Ummmmmmmmmm," Buffy sighed in welcome relief, tightening her ankles behind his back.
As he began to stroke his lust-thickened penis in and out of her wide-stretched cunt, fucking with long slow thrusts, the girl began to groan and thrash in exquisite pleasure. Expertly, Carlos ground his hips with a revolving motion, sawing in and out of her wetly receptive pussy with strength and expertise. Buffy writhed in a wild excitement as her hotly quivering vaginal passage adjusted to the massive intrusion of the thickened cock. As the couple began to copulate faster and faster, the crowd urged them on.
The wildly uninhibited debauch continued for several explosive minutes and drove the audience into a frenzy of uncontrolled desire. Candy looked around in amazement as most of the people in the room began to feverishly strip off their clothes. Although she tried to resist it, the blonde bride had the same feelings, and there was an insistent current of hot desire growing between her legs. Buffy cried out like a wild animal, and everyone turned their attention back to the wildly thrashing couple to see that the sex-crazed brunette was reaching the peak of orgasm. She moaned hysterically, kicking her legs outward furiously, her mouth hanging open like a madwoman as she reached pinnacle after pinnacle of unbelievable excitement. Finally, Carlos threw back his head like a lion in triumph and groaned gutturally, slamming his powerful hips back and forth with machine-gun rapidity, then roaring as he reached his climax as well. In a torrent of contagious lust, the other couples in the room dropped pillows, to begin their own lovemaking. Moments later, Carlos withdrew from the girl and went back into the bedroom. Buffy lay absolutely still, her legs spread wide apart and moaning softy, deliriously. She was wet between her open thighs and trails of whitely glistening sperm ran down the sides of her splayed legs.
The crowd had been aroused to a state of unbelievable desire, and Candy watched as couples grappled all around the room in wild, sensuous embraces. In spite of their unrestrained eagerness, though, everything stopped as Lou once more loudly called for everybody's attention.
"Okay now, I know everybody's really hot to trot, but we still got more floor show for you." He motioned for the waiters to refill everybody's glasses. "Drink up, ladies and gents, and hold your horses, cause the star attraction is about to appear. I know we got a lot of gamblers here tonight, and maybe we ain't as big as a Las Vegas casino, but we got a prize that you ain't never gonna get in Vegas. So, if you think you're on a winning streak, let me show you what you can win."
Candy was startled when Lou came over to her, took her by the arm, and pulled her into the center of the room.
"Okay, here she is. Brand new! The grand prize. Candy, turn around and let the gents see what you got."
"Lou, I ... "
"Do what I say, bitch!" he snapped at the terrified blonde. "Turn around and let 'em see what the prize is." Stifling back tremors of anxiety and fear, Drew's young wife turned to let the men see her compactly rounded frame, well revealed by the navy-blue cocktail dress she wore that amply defined the proudly thrusting fullness of her breasts and the soft curves of her hips. "Now ain't she somethin', boys? Fresh as a daisy."
The room was filled with enthusiastic cheers as the men ogled the extraordinarily beautiful girl at Grady's side.
"Not bad, Grady," one of them called out, "but what's the game? How do we win her?"
The men's shouts and mounting lust terrified the pianist's young wife, and she tried frantically to pull away from the heavy-set agent, but he held her tightly by his side. Then he called one of the waiters and told him to bring the bowl of special liquor and a big glass. Again Candy struggled to free herself and, without realizing what she was doing, she slapped him hard across the face with her hand.
The resounding slap brought absolute silence to the room. Even Grady was taken off guard and had stumbled backwards by the force of her blow. Then slowly, regaining his balance, he approached the terrified girl and, raising his hand, he smacked her hard in the face twice. Candy almost fell over from the force of his brutally painful blows, but he quickly grabbed her dress, brought her upright, then ripped at the garment until, in two or three quick tears, her cocktail dress lay in shreds around her feet.
Paralyzed by humiliation, Drew's young wife could only stand in mortified shame as Lou then proceeded to strip her of her brassiere and panties, leaving her finally totally naked except for her stockings. The others in the room stared in silence at her phenomenal beauty, a few feeling sorry for her, but the others drunkenly gleeful.
"Now drink up, you cunt, the night is young," Grady said as he forced her to swallow drink after drink of the thick, drugged liquor.
Candy kept choking and trying to push his hand away, but he forced the drinks on her again and again. Then, with a contemptuous sneer, he pushed her to her knees onto the cushions and she fell back in a drunken daze as he turned and spoke to the others. Her head still spun from the force of his blows and the drugged drinks made her almost totally unconscious, enveloped in a foggy haze of unreality.
Grady began to tell the men the rules of the game they would play to win access to Candy's ripe young body, but, in truth, the men had a hard time concentrating. Their eyes were riveted to the appetizing creature lying so defenselessly in the pillows in the center of the room. The helpless blonde lay there with her slender, stocking-clad legs spread wide apart, and her full young breasts heaving as though she was in an erotic trance. The pink, hair-rimmed lips of her pussy were nakedly exposed to their salacious gazes, and the texture of the stockings on her legs made the picture even more exciting than if she had been completely nude.
Dimly, Candy could hear Grady outlining the rules for the gambling, and her mind screamed in fear at the thought that she would be given as a sex-slave to the anonymous winner. Through her haze she could hear the game beginning, and the roulette wheel being spun. Then, through her fogged vision, she saw Grady towering over her, looking down at her with a contemptuous look on his face.
"You make any more trouble for me, cunt, and I'll see to it that Drew is mutilated once and for all, you got that?" He leaned down and pinched her painfully on the thigh. "Now just relax and have fun, okay baby? Make it easy on yourself."
As he walked away from her, hot tears of anguish spilled uncontrollably from her eyes. The miserable young wife had thought she had reached the lowest point of degradation, but this was far worse than anything she could have imagined. And yet, through her torture and shame, her body was beginning to ripple with involuntary sexual excitement. The vast amount of the powerful aphrodisiac that Grady had forced her to consume was beginning to spread its insidious effects through her loins like a wildfire. The helpless bride began to twitch erotically, the nerve-endings up between her legs sizzling with hot desire, her succulent young form craving sensual excitement. There was no way she could control the obscene feeling of wantonness that was overtaking her, and she moaned and writhed on the floor as if teased by the licking tongues of a thousand taunting devils.
Time ceased to have any meaning for the drugged girl, and she knew nothing except the irresistible heat that was swirling so relentlessly in her loins. She clung to the pillows, burying her fingers deep into the smooth satin, moaning softly in an erotic world of her own. Then, dimly, she heard wild shouts as the men appeared to have finished the game, and opening her eyes she could see, through her fogged vision, that men were hovering all around her. Hands began to grab at her flesh, touching her everywhere, but rather than being repulsed by it, it seemed that it was just what she needed, yearned for.
"OOOOOOOOhhhhhhhh," she groaned, "Yeeessss ... feel me everywhere ... I want it ... I want it..
"Hey, Harry, you got it made!" a voice cried out, "She's beggin' for it. What a lucky guy!"
One of the men, apparently the winner, was quickly undressing.
"Hurry up, man, hurry up. I'm next, you know."
Candy was confused, bewildered, ravaged by an implacable heat throughout her body. Was there more than one winner? What was happening?
"No ... don't take her stockings off. It gets me off ... "
The drugged young wife felt the weight of a naked man's body crushing against her side, and flashes of sensual excitement rippled through her flesh as his warmly pulsating hardness scraped against her thigh.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," she cried in utter pleasure, "YEEEEESSSSS!"
She groaned mindlessly again and again, in a savage hunger that seemed to feed on itself. It seemed now as if a hundred wonderful men were touching her, stroking, caressing, making her flesh quiver with maddened lust. Tantalizing fingers ran slowly up the inner sides of her thighs and there was a hot, violent moistness between her legs as her wetly throbbing vagina began to open like a flower, trembling with desire.
"Unnn ... fuck me ... fuck me," she heard herself crying obscenely. "Somebody fuck me ... please...."
The man at her side laughed crudely, and then rolled on top of the young wife. His hand dropped again and groped between her thighs, searching for the warm throbbing wetness of her love-crazed pussy. Blinded with lust, Candy reached for him, grasped the swollen thickness of his cock as it throbbed and jerked in her hands. Through her alcoholic daze she could feel the smooth rubbery head of the faceless stranger's extended penis brushing against the soft mound of her pubic hair, teasing her as it touched the wildly charged flesh of her pussy.
"Fuck me now," she pleaded hysterically, "Oh God, please fuck me now. Now!"
Drew's drugged wife strained for the stranger, arching her hips and throwing her quivering legs out into the air as her hands grasped and tugged at his warmly pulsating thickness.
The crowd watched in breathless excitement as the perspiring man slowly began sliding his long hard penis into her tightly clasping cunt, grinding against her with his hips, pushing and probing further into her lust-maddened pussy until finally his rock-hard shaft was buried in her up to the hilt, and his sperm-bloated balls were scraping her nakedly upturned ass cheeks. Candy began to gyrate frantically in a wild dance of passion beneath him, and the man tried to hold back, not wanting to climax so quickly. But the young bride was so caught in the raging whirlpool of her lust that she could only writhe in total abandon. The man began to fuck furiously into her, as he was nearing the point of orgasm already. The spectators laughed lewdly and urged him on.
"No, don't cum yet," Candy cried, realizing that he was about to climax. "No ... not yet ... not yet...."
But it was too late, and suddenly she felt his impatient semen squirting body into her, pulsing deep into her belly. She moaned in both excitement and frustration. She wasn't ready yet, and she hadn't reached climax. Moments later the man collapsed on top of her, his body still trembling with lust.
"You didn't wait, you didn't wait for me," the tortured blonde moaned incoherently.
The crowd laughed and jeered as the man rolled away from her. Abruptly a second man began to strip himself, his eyes fixed hungrily on the hysterically moaning girl on the floor. As soon as he was naked, he began to run his hands across her quivering hips, knowing she was fully prepared for a second fuck.
As the man positioned himself over her, Candy was overjoyed at the prospect of reaching her orgasm at last, and desperately she reached out and guided the second, anonymous penis down toward her eagerly waiting pussy.
"God, yes ... oh yes ... I need to cum ... cum...." she groaned.
In one violent thrust, the man, a heavy-set businessman, plunged his thickly throbbing cock all the way up into the wetly burning depths of Candy James's hungrily throbbing vaginal passage. With merciless thrusts, he fucked in and out of her greedily clasping cunt, and she undulated so wildly under him that it wasn't long before he, too, felt the aching sensation in his balls as his climax approached. This time, however, the pianist's delirious wife was finally approaching her own orgasm, and she screamed with delight.
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHI I'm CUUUMMMMMIIIINNNGGG!"
The sex-crazed young wife began to buckle even more violently beneath him, arching and rearing like an untamed bitch in heat, her wild gyrations bringing the rapidly fucking businessman to the peak of excitement. Then it came, and his entire, bulky body began to tremble and jerk from the spasms of release. He ground his pelvis down into her wildly churning crotch with brutual, merciless force. Candy writhed insanely beneath him, carried to heights of unbelievable passion as her vaginal walls trembled and shook in seismic waves of delight, releasing hot female fluids in torrents. An image of Drew seemed to flash into the tormented wife's brain as she soared on the titanic flight of climax.
"Drew ... oh Drew forgive me," she moaned piteously. "I love you darling ... I love you...." Her inner vision exploded into a kaleidoscope of whirling colors as the anonymous man's rapidly thrusting cock plunged deep in her belly, ejaculating a flood of heated sperm into the wildly contracting channel of her pussy. She was cumming as never before, every inch of her ripe young body shaking as if jolted by a thousand volts of raw electrical energy. Finally, with one last burst of strength she kicked her quivering legs far out into the air on either side of the heavily shaking buttocks of the man fucking her, and then she collapsed, totally unsatisfied, beneath him.
Once more, the huge room was totally silent except for the heavy breathing of the lovemakers. Finally, the man pulled himself away, and Candy lay exhausted, trying to regain her senses after the torrid orgasm. But the drugged drink still held sway over her mind and body, and though she tried to rise, to open her eyes, she found she had no strength. She seemed to be pulled down into a euphoric dream state, an exquisite sensual afterglow that she couldn't resist.
Then she gasped as yet a third man began to caress her persipring body. It was over, wasn't it? She had reached orgasm. Was there yet more to come? She felt herself being pulled bodily over on top of the new stranger, another anonymous lover different to the delirious young wife only in that she could tell he was thinner than the last man. She moaned vaguely in protest but it was useless; the man simply positioned her like a helpless rag doll so that she was half-sitting on top of him, with his fully erect penis nestling at the opening of her sperm-bathed vagina. Holding her up by her shoulders, he suddenly plunged his lust-thickened penis up into her, then quickly gripped her hips and pulled her down against his belly until he was buried in her completely.
Candy operated totally by instinct, somehow managing to remain in her semi-sitting position, while the man beneath her held her hips and pushed her up and down, rising to meet her each time. But this time it hurt the sex-weary young bride. She had been totally drained by the violence of the two previous fucks and the man below her was scraping roughly against the inside of her tortured pussy as he jammed her down onto him again and again.
"Arrrggghhhh ... no ... NOOOOOO!" she cried in protest. But it was no use. He kept pounding up into her, raising himself with cruelly driving thrusts, boring up into the ravaged young wife's cock-weary cunt until she thought she would faint from the agony of it. Then, astonishingly, the pain began to subside and in its place once again came the familiar torrents of unbridled passion. Hypnotically Candy began to rise and fall to the rhythm of the strange man's thrusting strokes, his hotly stiffened penis plunging up into her like a loaded gun ready to explode. Vaguely she could hear the noise of the wildly enthusiastic crowd all around her, and there seemed to be thousands of hands once more exploring her sex-mad young body, driving her into an even greater fever of sensual passion.
Suddenly the helpless bride of the pianist was pushed forward, her breasts pressed hard against the man's chest beneath her, and someone began to probe at her buttocks, parting the quivering half-moons of flesh, probing at the defenselessly raised circle of her anus. Then a thick finger began to worm its way into the tightly clenched ring and a sting of pain shot through the captive wife's loins. She struggled against it momentarily, but it was no use. She couldn't stop the torrent of drug-induced passion that pervaded her, she could only submit to anything that happened. The sodomizing finger inched deeper and deeper into her tortured rectum and the young wife was consumed by both the pain of the rough intrusion and the staggering thrills of the still upward-thrusting cock of the man beneath her.
"AAAIIIIEEEEEEEE!" she cried, confused and dazed by the wild mixture of feelings that pervaded her ravaged body. "Don't ... DON'T!"
But her protests were useless. The impaling finger drove relentlessly inward, filling her rear with shafts of agonizing pain. Then, suddenly, the finger was removed and there was a soothing wash of cool air across her nakedly uplifted buttocks. But in the next moment the dazed young bride felt a larger object nestling against her anal ring. Oh God! She felt and recognized the sensation ... a penis! She squirmed violently, trying to get away from the intruding pressure, but the man kept pushing against her wildly puckering anal entrance until suddenly she felt the tight elastic ring pop slightly and encircle the head of the warmly throbbing cock. It began to move inside of her, worming its way relentlessly far up into her forbidden channel. Candy could feel the thickness of this second penis rub against the upward driving shaft that was still fucking in and out of her lust-moistened pussy from below. The two rods of rock-hard male flesh were separated only by the thin fleshy membrane which separated her anal and vaginal cavities.
An eruption of volcanic passion crashed over the tortured young wife, and in that moment she succumbed completely to the brutal invasion of her anus. Like a she-animal, she cried out to the two of them, urging the faceless strangers to make love to her as hard as they possibly could. Candy wanted to scream to the world about the deliciously wild masochistic pleasure these two men were bringing to her. A whirpool of erotic passion surrounded her on all sides and sucked her soul into its swirling depths. Hands grabbed and caressed every part of her lust-electrified body, two massively thrusting cocks were fucking her simultaneously in the pussy and the anus, every last trace of inhibition fled from her sex-brutalized body as once more a galvanic climax began to throb in her helplessly quivering pussy.
"YYEEEEESSSSSSSS!" she screamed in total abandon, her head shaking like a puppet, her long blonde hair flailing across the face of the laboring man beneath her. "FUUUUUUUCC CCCKKKKK MMMEEEEEEl! Everyone ... fuck me!"
The room echoed with the sounds of her obscene cries and the crowd of men and women, as if hypnotized by her banshee-like screams of pleasure, were caught up in a frenzied orgy of lust. Clothes were torn off in rampant haste, and couples began to make love in every corner in every conceivable way. But Candy was aware of nothing except the titanic, steaming pleasure that inundated her drugged and drunken body. She was cumming, cumming as never before, cumming with a force so explosive that she felt as if she would be blown apart into a million fleshy fragments, scattered across the universe like a shattered star, spun into the farthest reaches of space in an orgasm that lasted until the end of time.
And then, moaning, she fainted.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Candy? Candy can you hear me?"
Drew's young blonde wife began to writhe as if in a nightmare as the tall, distinguished man began to shake gently on her shoulder, trying to wake her. The pianist's bride tried to pull away from his hand, mumbling words of protest and fear. Then suddenly her eyes flew open, a look of anxiety in the depths of them, and she sat up, drawing the cover to hide her naked breasts.
"No ... no ... stay away from me," she cried, still half-groggy from her heavy sleep, trying to focus her eyes wildly.
"It's all right, Candy. You don't have to worry. You're safe now."
Gradually Drew's wife began to think clearly, and glancing around she realized she was on the huge circular bed of Haver's suite. Sun was filtering through the windows. How long had she been asleep? Suddenly she remembered what had taken place the evening before; her nakedly abused body ached all over and there was a searing pain up between her thighs. Then, as her vision clearly focused, she saw who had awakened her. A handsome man with black hair streaked with silver at the crown and temples. Walter Haver!
"Oh ... Mr. Haver," she gasped, not knowing whether to laugh or cry or run away. In the next moment she burst into tears and buried her face in the pillow, ashamed of what had happened to her and frightened of the legendary man in the room with her.
"Go ahead and cry, Candy," Haver said gently. Then he turned to another man by the door. "Bill, get some coffee, will you? There's a fresh pot in the other room. And maybe put a little brandy in it." The friendly, sandy-haired bartender glanced with concern at the weeping blonde girl, then went into the other room. "It's all right now, nobody's going to hurt you," Haver said softly to her as she wept. "Go ahead and let it out."
Moments later Bill returned with a steaming cup of coffee.
"Here, Candy, drink this," the bartender said.
Hearing his voice, Candy stopped crying and slowly sat up, brushing strands of her platinum blonde hair from her eyes.
"Thanks," she said in a quiet voice, accepting the cup. She drank slowly, and as she did her consciousness seemed to return. Finally she sat up fully in the bed, drawing up her knees to protect her nakedness, and glanced at Bill and Haver who stood nearby.
"Candy, you don't have to talk now if you don't want to," the distinguished club owner said. "I know what happened; Bill explained it all to me, and a few other things besides. I'm sorry you had to go through what you did; believe me if I'd have known about what Grady was doing, you wouldn't have had this problem."
"Then ... then you know ... everything?" Drew's wife inquired.
"Candy," the bartender said, "I've been doing a little investigating around the club. I knew there was something wrong between you and Drew and Lou, and I asked Adele and a couple of the other girls and they filled me in."
"It's a terrible story, Candy," Haver offered, "but I want you to know that you're out of danger now. Lou Grady and his boys won't hurt you ever again."
"Oh, I'm so glad to hear you say that," the young blonde said with relief. "I ... I had to do what I did because Grady threatened ... he threatened...."
"He threatened to break Drew's hands, I know," the club owner remarked. "He's a cheap hoodlum. Frankly, I don't know why I was so blind to what he was doing before this, but I guess it's my fault for not keeping closer tabs on this place. Maybe I've got more interests than I can really handle. Anyway, you can thank Bill for helping you out. If he hadn't come to me, I wouldn't be here now."
"Thanks Bill ... thanks a million."
"Oh, it's nothin'." The sandy haired bartender smiled sheepishly. "That guy just made my blood boil."
"I ... I should go home and tell Drew," Candy offered, starting to rise from the bed.
Haver and the bartender exchanged quick looks.
"Candy," the club owner said, pushing her gently back, "I think you should wait here a little before you get up. You still need your rest. And there's a few more things I have to tell you."
As Candy tried to get up she felt a throbbing ache in the back of her head, and she didn't resist Haver's suggestion to stay in bed for awhile.
"Maybe you're right. I feel a little dizzy ... and my head aches."
"Probably from that goddamn stuff in the drinks," Bill said contemptuously. "Christ that stuff's enough to get a stone elephant horny."
"You mean ... the drinks were drugged?" the young blonde asked incredulously."
"I'll say," the bartender remarked sarcastically. "And you got a double dose."
"I hate him ... I hate that man," Candy hissed, thinking of Grady.
"You're not the only one," Haver said. "But I've seen to it that he's been taken care of."
"Hey boss, I've got to get downstairs. Okay if I check out?"
"Sure, Bill, go ahead. And thanks for the help."
"No trouble. You'll take care of Candy?"
"I will. I'll see you later."
"Right." With a friendly wink, the genial man left the room, closing the door behind him."
Haver and Candy glanced at each other. It was the first time they had been alone together, and once more there seemed to be an electric current that passed between them as their eyes met. Then Haver turned away and walked to the window. Standing with his back to the young blonde wife, he began to speak.
"You know, Candy, when I found out what Grady had been doing here, I felt like a damned fool. I never wanted to hire him in the first place. Unfortunately, as you know, the Star Club has some ... well, shall we say questionable activities ... activities that sometimes require consorting with a shadier element of society. When I was a younger man, I had hoped to do everything properly. Oh, I was very moral, you know. I knew what was right and wrong, and I was determined to be successful without doing anything ... anything immoral or shall we say ... shady. But I soon found out that there is no such thing as success without a little dirty business. I think you would be surprised to find out how much dirty business goes on even in the most sacred of our institutions here in America.
"So I thought to myself, well, then I'll have to play along with the game, won't I? But at least I can stay as far enough away from the dirty business as I can. You know the Star Club exists primarily for the Annex and my private parties. Without it I wouldn't have any place to entertain my important clients. Chicago is an important city for me, and I've always been able to make many business friends here by having a place for them to let off a little steam. So there's gambling, and girls. The best of everything. They stay happy, and my profits soar.
But naturally I preferred staying in cleaner waters, myself, and so I let Lou Grady run the place for me. A poor judgment on my part, I think. But useful in that it points out a flaw in my way of working. You can be sure it won't happen again.
"I'm just sorry that you became his victim. It reflects badly on me, and I hate that most of all. I don't want you to think badly of me. It's strange, I know, for me to be saying this. We hardly know each other. But somehow ... from the first moment I knew there was something special about you. You know, I'm not an emotional man, but when I found out what Grady was doing to you ... I exploded. Frankly, I was surprised by that reaction. As I say, I am not easily given to emotional states or feelings like that. Well, in any case, I just want you to know that I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry. Honestly, Mr. Haver...."
"Please ... call me Walt."
"Walt." Candy smiled at him warmly, grateful for his humanity and his concern. "Walt, maybe we've both learned something out of all this. Anyway I'm grateful to you for what you've done, really. And ... when Drew finds out I'm sure he'll be grateful too."
Haver turned to look at her directly, then, his brow furrowing with concern; he began to pace around the large room.
"Candy, there's something I have to tell you about Drew. He does know what's happened. I told him about it earlier today."
"You've seen him? At the hotel?"
"No. I called him here. Actually I wanted to find out what he knew about Grady. And also ... I wanted to find out how much he was responsible for what happened to you. Frankly, I wanted to see if he had encouraged Grady into using you to get himself out of the jam he was in."
"You ... you what?" For the first time Candy felt herself growing angry with the wealthy man. "Walt, you don't have to worry about Drew. He loves me, I know it."
The tall man looked pensive for a moment, then took out a gold cigarette case, withdrew a cigarette and lit it, replacing the case in his jacket pocket, "Candy ... I had to find that out for myself. So I tested him."
"You ... you tested him? How?"
"I gave him an offer. I told him that if he wanted, he could stay here with you and keep playing at the Star Club at a raise, or he could have the contract with Arcade Records, providing he went immediately to New York, leaving you with me."
Candy stared at the tall man with anxious eyes.
"What ... what did he choose?"
"He's halfway to New York right now."
For a moment the betrayed young wife couldn't believe her ears. Then suddenly the reality of what her young husband had done, and what he was, hit her with the force of an exploding bomb. Tears suddenly poured out of her sea-green eyes.
"No ... no ... no!" she cried. "How could he do it ... how could he do that to me? Oh, Goddamn him! Goddamn him!"
"I'm sorry Candy ... but at least you know now."
"Yes ... at least I know. I might have gone on for years giving everything I had for the sake of his career ... for his talent." . "Nobody could play "Harbor Lights" like he did."
"Yes ... well ... it's done now. Finished. I ... I think I'd better go."
"As you wish, Candy."
The shattered young blonde rose wearily from the bed and wrapped the sheet around her aching body, on her way to the bathroom. She started to move past Haver when all of a sudden tears once more came pouring from her eyes. With a moan of unhappiness she began to sway, dropping the sheet from around her whitely sculpted body. Haver reached out to support her and she fell into his arms, burying her head on his chest and weeping uncontrollably.
"There, there," Haver said, stroking her hair, "it's going to be all right."
"What am I going to do?" she sobbed. "I have no place to go ... no one to turn to."
"No, Candy, that's not true." The tall, muscular millionaire lifted her chin so that he could look in her sparkling, tear-dimmed eyes. "You have me. You can stay here with me."
The young blonde couldn't believe her ears. It was like a dream, to have Walter Haver saying that to her.
"I ... I couldn't...."
"Yes you could. You can ... and you will. At least I hope you will. Candy, I'm a lonely man. I ... I need somebody to take the edge off my loneliness when I'm in Chicago-somebody like you. Maybe this is the wrong time to ask ... but ... well, for what it's worth I'm asking you to stay here with me ... for as long as you want. I ... can't ask you to be my wife; I have one on the West Coast. But ... will you be my woman?"
Candy looked away from his deep brown eyes for a moment. The sun was pouring radiant beams through the windows, filling the elegant bedroom with brilliant fight. For a moment she gazed as if hypnotized into the sunlight, then turned back to the handsome man. Why not, she thought. Why not? "Yes ... oh, yes Walt ... I will."
"Oh Carlos, thank you for picking me up," Candy said as she came out of the beauty salon and the dark-skinned chauffeur opened the rear door of the Chrysler Imperial for her. "Take me to the suite. I should have been back hours ago."
"At your service," the handsome Latin bodyguard grinned.
Soon they were driving through the busy streets of Chicago, the air-conditioned car protecting them from the summer heat. Candy still found it hard to believe that her life had changed so suddenly. After the darkest hour of her life, everything had become wonderful again, absolutely wonderful. She had been living with Walter Haver for a month now, the most fantastic month of her life. He had showered her with clothes, jewels, anything she wanted, and gave her incredible nights of lovemaking. She still found it all hard to believed.
At that moment an image of her husband, Drew, flashed into her mind. It was as if she could see him playing, not at the Star Club, but before that, at Luci's Hideaway, when he just sat at an old upright, playing the songs the customers called for. Those had been happy times, the only happy time of their marriage. A touch of success had changed Drew totally, so much so that he had been willing to sacrifice his wife for his career. She knew that he had cut a record for Arcade in New York, and the rumor was that he was going to be a hot property very soon, nationally known. He had already appeared on a couple of talk shows and the response was good.
Well, let him go his own way, she thought to herself. The divorce is underway now, thanks to Walt. Soon Drew will be another memory, a rather unpleasant memory at that.
Carlos let her out at the entrance to the Star Club, and, walking inside, she saw Bill sitting at a table and she decided to join him.
"Hello, Candy," he smiled as she sat across from him.
"Hi. How's everything going?"
"Great. I never thought Haver would make me the boss. That's fate, I guess. Anyway, I'm enjoying the work. Haver seems satisfied too."
"Oh, Walt loves how you're handling the job. Bill, it's wonderful the way everything has worked out, isn't it? We all seem to have gotten what we really wanted."
"Guess so. Life is funny sometimes, isn't it?"
"Yes. Funny and wonderful."
"Want a drink?"
"No ... I've got to go upstairs and change. Walt should be coming back soon and I want to be ready for him."
"See you later then."
"Fine."
Moments later she waited for the small, private elevator to take her up to the suite, the suite she'd come to love, the place she'd learned to call home. Inserting the key into the door she thought she heard music.
Oh, no, he's home already. And I wasn't there to meet him.
She stepped into the softly lighted living room and looked around for him.
"Walt! Walt? I'm home." Hearing the shower, she decided to fix them both a drink while he was in the bathroom. She iced the glasses while she made martinis and then took them into the bedroom.
She put the glasses and the shaker into the ice bucket by the bed and then smiled at an inspiration that came to her. She quickly went into the other bathroom, her private bathroom, and turned on the shower. Moments later she felt the sting of the warm water falling sensuously over her body, and she hummed happily as she washed herself with a thick washcloth.
The happy young blonde thought briefly of Grady and of Schlessinger and the humiliation she had suffered at their hands. That was all a thing of the past now, she knew, yet she still shuddered slightly remembering the red-haired, pudgy agent, the eccentric businessman, and then that obscene orgy Lou had blackmailed her into.
Candy, you were one lucky girl to have Walter Haver walk into your life.
A few minutes later she stepped out of the bath, dried herself with a thick towel, brushed her platinum hair into place, dusted and powdered the milk-whiteness of her firm young body. Finally, after touching up her makeup, she slipped into a black lace negligee that gave revealing glimpses of her curvaceous body beneath the clinging folds. Then, satisfied that she looked just right she went back into the bedroom.
She was disappointed to find that Walt wasn't yet out of the bathroom, but she could hear the clinking of bottles of cologne and aftershave, so she knew he must be preparing for exactly the same thing she was. Smiling happily to herself, she moved the ice bucket closer to the bed and poured herself a martini. She knew that he'd be out any minute, so she hurriedly jumped under the covers, then, jumped out again to lower the lighting until it was soft and romantic. She had barely climbed once again under the silken sheets when she heard the bathroom door open. Smiling slyly, she turned and held the glass out to him.
"Good evening darling," she whispered.
Candy smiled to herself, knowing the happiness Walt would bring her tonight ... and always.
