It had been the hottest night of the entire summer in Manhattan, a real dog day in the truest sense. The temperature on Saturday afternoon had hit nearly one hundred degrees with similar humidity, and by four o'clock there was no relief in sight. The prediction for Sunday was just as grim and Labor Day fell early this year. Some holiday weekend!
Ed Braggert was counting the minutes till he would finish his eight p.m. to four a.m. shift as chief dispatcher for Ace Ambulance Service. The temperature outside was still in the nineties and it wasn't much better in his own office, which was not air-conditioned. The cheap management of the company ran the air-conditioners during the regular work day, but as an economy measure shut the machines off with a timing device every afternoon at five o'clock. The small desk fan blowing on him was making a feeble attempt to keep him cool, but his white orderly uniform was sweated through.
Braggert was a good-looking black man in his early thirties. He had a sturdy build, wore a trim, tiny moustache and had flashing black eyes. He was married to a woman he no longer cared for and was burdened with too many bills, too many responsibilities and too many kids. Recently he had had the good fortune to meet a beautiful black girl named Cassie Charles. She had a body you had to see to believe. She was tall and stacked with long black hair which she wore in an Afro. When she smiled, she flashed the most dazzling white teeth you could ever hope to see. She, too, was married, but her husband was an older man who worked the midnight to eight o'clock in the morning shift in a midtown factory as a watchman. She was in her mid-twenties and had married the guy when she was very young out of a desire to escape her unhappy home life.
Tonight Braggert had dreamed up an excuse to stay out late saying he had to cover for the shift following his, though he was not at all sure his wife believed him, and had made a date with Cassie for four o'clock in the morning-quitting time for him.
Cassie Charles worked for Manhattan Fifth Avenue Hospital as a night unit clerk and finished work at three o'clock in the morning. So she just had time to freshen up and meet Braggert at his office at Fifth Avenue and 112th Street. They had agreed to meet at the back entrance to the ambulance yard. Ed had not told Cassie what plans he had for their "evening," but she was as impressed with him as he had been with her, and she felt like a young girl rushing out on her first date.
The Ace Ambulance Service was a small, private ambulance service. The entire fleet consisted of only three vehicles, one of them referred to as "Old Red," which was seldom used. The two newer ambulances were kept in excellent condition and ready to go at any time. Old Red was kept in the rear of the lot out back and was only pressed into service in cases of dire emergency.
Tonight, thankfully, thought Ed, had been extremely quiet. Not a single emergency call had come in during his shift, so not only had Numbers One and Two stayed parked where they were, but Old Red was not even considered. That was a good omen, Ed thought to himself, because he had plans for Old Red tonight.
Bill Bunker, an elderly Irishman, came in at a quarter to four to get ready to relieve Braggert. There was no regular dispatcher in the office downstairs between four o'clock and eight o'clock in the morning. Two relief men were on standby emergency and allowed to sleep in the small area on the second floor of the building during those hours while Bunker manned the phones.
Braggert .turned the evening's report over to Bunker to review. Bunker was moving especially slow tonight.
"It sure is a hot one," Bunker said.
"Yeah, outside and inside," Braggert replied. ""You're really in for it, old-timer." As Braggert got up to leave, he headed for the back exit rather than using the front door. The two "sleepers" had already checked in upstairs. "Keep cool, Bunker!"
Braggert was beginning to forget about the heat in his rising anticipation of seeing Cassie, but when he stepped outside and was flooded with the almost unbearable humidity, his spirits dropped a bit.
"Wow, man, this is some hot mother-fuckin' night," he said to no one in particular. He was praying to himself that Cassie would be able to make it. He made his way to the gate at the rear of the ambulance yard and sure enough, there in the moonlight stood Cassie. She looked dynamite with her tall, youthful body encased in only a white midriff bra and a very thin skirt and sandals. She, too, had been bothered by the heat-and by her own self-doubts as to what she was letting herself in for.
As he approached, she flashed a winning smile and started to call out.
"Shhhhh," cautioned Ed. "Follow me, baby, but be careful."
Suddenly losing her aplomb, she whispered, "What's the matter, Ed?"
"Don't worry," he cautioned in a low voice. "Everything's cool-except this fucking weather. We can talk in a minute."
He took her hand and led her toward the rear of the ambulance yard where Old Red was parked. Quietly, he extracted a set of keys from his pocket and opened the rear door to the vehicle.
"Step right into my limousine, honey, for the ride of your life," he said laughingly as he helped her inside.
Somewhat bewildered, she said, "Ed, what the hell is this?"
"Don't worry, honey. This is the scene of the party."
When they got inside, Ed closed the door behind them. In the pale moonlight, she could discern a movable, full-length stretcher covered with fresh white sheets, two side chairs and various medical appliances. It was a lot roomier than it looked from outside, but it sure was hot. Her body was covered with sweat. She found she could even stand up straight.
Braggert reached over and flicked a switch and the sound of the air-conditioning equipment starting up startled her. Swiftly, the space began to cool to a delightful temperature. He glanced out the side windows and saw that Numbers One and Two were standing ready for any emergency that might possibly occur. No way would Old Red be pressed into service now.
He produced a hip flask that gleamed in the moonlight and two glasses. He poured two shots of hundred proof vodka into them and handed one to Cassie.
Not much of a drinker, but desperate to relax, Cassie said, "Thanks, Ed. This all seems a little strange."
"Well, honey, we both can't take the chance of being seen in public together, and I thought this might be just a fine place for our rendezvous. We both want to get it on, and this ought to be ideal. So, cheers, baby!" With that he downed his glass of vodka.
Still ill at ease, Cassie did the same and choked as it burned its way down her throat. Ed surveyed her great body with the well-formed breasts, small waist, round buttocks and shapely legs. He wanted her like a child longing for a new toy at Christmas.
The first drink seemed to have a relaxing effect on Cassie. Ed poured a second drink for himself and pulled Cassie toward him. He poured his drink into his mouth and then kissed Cassie, pushing his tongue into her throat and spraying the vodka in, letting it trickle down her throat. She made a gurgling sound, but he kept pressing his lips against hers to make certain the vodka went on down to loosen her up even more.
Even though her clothes were summer thin, the hot summer sweat combined with the cooled air in the van had caused them to stick to her body. Deftly he unhooked the thin midriff top, and her ample breasts fell free.
"Baby, baby, do I dig those tits," he said as he shifted his hands to fondle her well-shaped breasts. He flicked her nipples with his thumbs. They perked to attention immediately.
Cassie backed up and bumped into the stretcher. "But, Ed, what if somebody finds us in here?" she said protesting half-heartedly as the vodka began to rush to her head and the hardness of Ed's stimulated prick pushed against her thin skirt.
"Baby, trust me, don't worry," he answered as he covered her ears, throat and neck with kisses.
Suddenly she reached up to the front of his white orderly's jacket and with strength she didn't know she had, she ripped it wide open. In the silence of the night, the clatter of the popped buttons falling to the floor was startlingly loud. Ed's well-developed chest was revealed heaving up and down.
"Damn, baby, you're hotter than I thought."
"I can't help it, honey. I'm afraid, but feeling that prick of yours is starting to drive me crazy."
In another instant she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and let his white pants fall to the floor, exposing his semi-erect cock. Laughing quietly, she observed, "Ed, honey, you must have been in a hurry. You're not wearing any shorts."
"And you must have been in more than the heat from this weather," he countered. "I just didn't want anything to hold me back from you."
Cassie undid the hook of her thin skirt and slid down the white nylon bikini panties she wore and with that Ed lifted her onto the stretcher covered with the white linen sheets. The crispness of the sheets combined with the coolness of the air-conditioning, plus the jolt of the vodka, caused Cassie to moan and fall back, leaving Ed with unobstructed access to the mound of her pussy. In spite of the heat of the night, Cassie had thoughtfully used her raspberry plum douche and the aroma made Ed's nostrils flare with delight.
Even in the subdued darkness of the ambulance, Cassie's body drove him crazy as he panned down from her enticing breasts to her beautiful cunt.
"Spread your legs, honey," he said, his voice tight with emotion. He was sweating again even in the cool air.
Slowly Cassie relaxed and let her legs spread open. Ed could resist no longer and he reached out and touched her pussy, his fingers gingerly probing at the lips of her cunt. Cassie wiggled with delight.
Ed was breathing hard, his exhalations coming out in wheezing blasts. His hands trembled as he spread her cunt lips and probed deeper into her snatch. Cassie was stimulated, too, and opened her legs even farther. Not being all that experienced, she wondered what it was that he was looking for that he couldn't have found by this time. He couldn't restrain himself and he plunged his face down to her cunt. His tongue darted out, delicately flicking her clitoris. The black woman moaned and raised her legs off the stretcher so that Ed could suck even better.
"Mmmmmmmmm, good, Ed, suck me good," Cassie sighed, surprised at how thrilling this new sensation was for her.
Ed started nibbling on her clit and it almost drove Cassie out of her mind.
She moaned with delight, "Ed, baby, eat that snatch! Oh, honey, eat me, eat me, eat me."
Ed needed no further urging. He slid his hands under Cassie's round buttocks and pulled her up to his face. His head was bobbing up and down as he went at the mouthful of slippery cunt, lapping it gleefully, inhaling the raspberry aroma. Cassie's labial lips seemed to fly open in a wide-on and she threw her legs up even higher. Now Ed was squeezing her buttocks as he sucked. Cassie's clit was distended and Ed sucked the little organ into his mouth, tonguing it and chewing it gently. He was going at it with such intensity that Cassie was beginning to feel her juices swelling up toward orgasm.
"Oh, Ed," she cried, "that's driving me out of my fucking mind." She tried to reach from the position she was in down to his enlarged uncircumcised cock. In the darkness it appeared huge. Its thick head was covered by a foreskin, and she wanted desperately to grasp it in her hand.
"Not so fast, honey. Ain't nobody gonna' bother us here," he said, caressingly pulling his lips from her cunt and starting to run his tongue slowly up her body over her stomach, licking around her navel.
Cassie allowed her legs to drop a little as the ecstasy of Ed's talented tongue moved up her body, and he started to lick circles around her breasts. Her cunt was hot and moist, but she had eased off her orgasm anxiety. Her hand reached for his cock and held onto its hot, thick head which gave off drops of pre-cum as she squeezed the foreskin back.
Ed moved right on to the nipples and started to nibble and chew them. Cassie screamed in protest, but the intense pleasure shooting through her made them stand up harder.
He was now kneeling over her on the full-length stretcher. She had shifted her hands to grasp his solid buttocks, letting go of his pulsing dick. She had never had her arms around such a hunk of man.
"I want that beautiful cock in my burning, hot cunt. Honey, I want you to split me right up the middle," she said.
Suddenly Ed battered against her, and Cassie's hand guided his cock between the wet lips of her pulsing vagina. He knew ecstasy as he felt his cock cleave the squeezing mouth.
Cassie cried out, "Oh, it's so big. So fucking big. Oh, God, ram it in." Never in her life had Cassie dreamed sex could be so thrilling.
Ed plunged deep into the moist opening between her thighs. He groaned with delight as his shaft drove into her. He grunted and groaned as his cock relentlessly corkscrewed home, the friction of her tight vagina nearly driving him insane. Cassie's legs locked around Ed's waist as if she never wanted to let him go. Nevertheless, he drove himself into her slot, inch by inch. He was sure he'd grazed her backbone or split her cervix when finally he was buried up to his balls in her. Her soft curling pubic hairs grazed against his, and he lashed again and again with his hips, cruelly slamming into her, wild to drive himself right out of the top of her skull. Cassie almost blacked out at the combination of pleasure and pain.
"Baby," she groaned, "you're driving me crazy!"
Ed started to slow off a little bit. "Slow, baby, slow. I want this to last," he whispered to Cassie.
"Oh, Ed, that cock, give it all to me now."
"Honey, you've got it all, but let me take the lead and make it last and you'll love it even more."
Gradually the first gray light of dawn was beginning to filter into the interior of the ambulance. In his delirium Ed reflected on what a beautiful sight the nude black body of Cassie was against the stark white sheets. They matched their rhythms together and the fucking seemed to go on forever. Their bodies shook as they seemed melded into one love-making machine-his cock plunging in and out of her dripping cunt and her pelvis bouncing up and back to match every thrust. She was delirious with the feeling of his balls flailing her ass as she dug her fingers deeper into his buttocks holding onto her new man.
They were so caught up in their love-making that they did not hear the sudden commotion in the ambulance yard. Nor were they aware of an orderly getting into the driver's seat of Old Red. He started the vehicle's ignition and as it lurched ahead, it provided the final thrust that sent them into a paroxysm of double orgasm. Ed's hot come seemed to fill her entire being as her own juices were unleashed.
As Old Red careened around the corner and out into the street, reality hit the two of them like ice water thrown on a sizzling skillet. As the driver turned on the alarm, panic seized them. They were roaring down Fifth Avenue with the whole world, for all they knew, staring at their interlocked naked bodies.
Ed could hear the clang of fire engines in the distance. He realized that a major catastrophe had occurred. The one thing he swore would never happen, had. He pulled out of Cassie roughly. Her eyes registered fear.
Ed's years of training took hold. He planted a kiss on Cassie's open mouth to smother the scream that was forming there and then he slapped her hard to bring her out of shock. Then quickly he said, "Listen to me, Cassie. Do exactly as I say."
Cassie's wide eyes filled with fear looked up at him imploringly. She whimpered, "I'm scared."
"Don't be. Just do what I say and be quick about it. Get up, wipe yourself off with these sheets." He was shouting commands rapidly now. Quickly he closed the shades of the van's interior. He wiped himself off and pulled on his pants, happy to note he'd never taken his shoes off. He grabbed a spare white smock.
"Put your clothes on and put this on over them," he yelled to her.
Cassie did as she was told. Swiftly he grabbed a fresh set of sheets and started to recover the stretcher in the efficient manner taught by his years of training.
"Throw me that spare jacket."
Cassie did.
"And for God's sake, woman, pick up those buttons off the floor and throw them and the dirty sheets in that hamper. Now sit in that jump seat and try to pull yourself together."
Cassie's body trembled, but she tried to calm herself. To have been so ecstatic and now this, she thought!
Ed raised the curtains just as the ambulance screeched to a stop. Numbers One and Two had already arrived on the scene. A large apartment building at Fifth Avenue and 70th Street was spouting flames and belching smoke. An array of fire engines, police cars and ambulances were converging on the scene creating as much chaos as if World War III had suddenly broken out. All of this on the hottest night of the entire summer. Only it wasn't night anymore; it was now five minutes after five o'clock in the morning.
Ambulances One and Two had been fully staffed, but Old Red had only a driver, Bill Bunker, the elderly night watchman. He was too old to do much. He got out of the driver's seat and as he slowly came around to the rear of the ambulance, he was almost flattened by Ed Braggert swinging open the rear door.
Bill's jaw dropped open as if to ask, "Why?"
Ed brushed him aside as he dragged Cassie from the ambulance.
"Bill, check the firemen and find out which detail we are to take. Miss Charles, stand by."
"Miss Who?" Bunker asked.
"Move, dammit! Can't you see this is more than an emergency? Move, Bunker." Braggert's authoritarian tone surprised even him.
Bunker moved.
Braggert groped in his pocket for a bill, pressed it into Cassie's hand and said, "Walk quietly toward Madison Avenue-no, all the way over to Third-and take a taxi. You'll still beat your husband home. I loved it, honey, but just get the hell out of here now. I'll call you when I can!"
Watching all of this was a young intern from Manhattan Fifth Avenue Hospital. He thought he recognized the black girl, but he couldn't be sure. This was his first emergency, his first week in New York, and he just couldn't believe it all. In the heat of the morning and the fire, his rumpled hospital whites felt like soggy Kleenex clinging to him. Still Chaz Arnold found himself signaling to Braggert to bring the stretcher on the double to pick up the very beautiful, obviously very rich, blonde lady to whom he had just given mouth to mouth resuscitation.
CHAPTER TWO
Swiftly Braggert wheeled the portable stretcher to the young doctor. His experience told him at a glance that she had either been overcome by smoke inhalation or had suffered a coronary. He looked at the young doctor and could see the inexperience and distress reflected in his eyes.
The powerful black man yelled at the doctor, "Help me keep her absolutely flat and get her onto the stretcher."
The doctor did exactly as he had been commanded. He then remembered to grab his medical bag and helped move the stretcher back to the ambulance. Bunker had disappeared into the crowd somewhere. With deft ability Braggert engineered the stretcher back into the ambulance, shoved the doctor in beside the blonde lady and asked, "Where to?"
"Manhattan Fifth Avenue Hospital Emergency Entrance," the young doctor snapped almost by reflex.
Braggert slammed the rear door behind the doctor and ran to the front of Old Red, jumped into the driver's seat, backed the ambulance out of the melee, and headed toward Madison Avenue to swing left uptown.
"Can all this be happening to me?" thought Chaz Arnold.
The young doctor had just arrived in Manhattan that week to start his internship at Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center, one of the largest hospitals in the United States. He had been born in Arkansas, one of eleven children. He was now twenty-five years old and not particularly handsome with brown hair, brown eyes, and a normally developed body. His face was certainly not the model or billboard variety. In fact you probably wouldn't look twice at him, but if you did, one would see a kind face that exuded trustworthiness.
Back in Arkansas he had more or less outgrown his family or more specifically, grown up in spite of it. When he was a young boy, he had hated his alcoholic father as well as the fact that his mother had to work at the local Montgomery Ward to keep them alive. The children were left to shift for themselves. As soon as each child was old enough or looked old enough to work, he or she had to quit school and get some meager job to help the others. He had been the sixth from the eldest and to escape his horrid home life, he had studied extra hard in his early years at school, reading constantly, knowing full well that-judging from his older brothers and sisters-he would never be allowed to finish high school.
Surprisingly enough, just at the age when he was sure he would be yanked from the tenth grade and sent to the local mill to work, his father died of a heart attack. He hated his father, but yet he cried at the realization that he had never known what a father could have meant to him. His teachers in school, knowing what lay ahead for young Charles Arnold-for that was his name-the Chaz came later-joined forces and petitioned the local newspaper to keep this bright young honor student in school. He was given a part-time job with the paper and allowed to finish school. He graduated with top honors, valedictorian of his class.
By this time, the editor of the local paper, a widower with no children of his own, had become quite fond of Charles. He counseled him as if he were his own son, and by dropping a careful hint or two to the right politicians, got Charles a full scholarship to the University of Arkansas. To Charles it meant an escape and he plunged even harder into college studies. He had always been an outstanding science student, but socially he was zero. He grew up to be rather gangly and awkward. He was chided by the local jocks for his clumsiness and by the campus belles for his bashful, bumptious manner.
He lived off campus in a rooming house and managed to keep a part-time job to allow himself a few little extras that the scholarship didn't cover. Along with brain power, it might be added that Charles Arnold had penis power. He was always so shy that when he discovered masturbation at the age of twelve, he became his own best friend-like a kid in a candy store. He masturbated at every possible opportunity and always keeping to himself, loved it. His organ grew to truly outstanding proportions. It eventually got to be an embarrassment for him. For years he had worn boxer shorts and his prick banged between his legs uncomfortably and quite noticeably. In his senior year in high school he had wanted to join the swimming team since he was not good in any other sport, but then he discovered they worked out in the nude. When he would crouch on the side of the pool in the swimmer's stance ready to dive into the pool, his dick almost touched the ground. The other fellows kidded him, calling him "Tripod," and he was so embarrassed that he quit the team and never revealed himself to anyone again for a long, long time.
However, in college in the quiet of his small room he went right on masturbating while piling up Dean's List grades. One person who couldn't keep her eyes off the bulge between his legs was his slatternly landlady, Reba Touchet. Sometimes he knew she was staring, but he tried to avoid her gaze.
One night when she knew he was up in his room, she came up the stairs very quietly with a stack of fresh towels on the pretext of changing the ones he had. Knowing full well what she was doing, she opened the door without knocking and there was young Charles in bed, nude, beating his huge piece of meat. The sight sent an electric shock through her whole body. She had never seen anything like it before.
"It's simply beautiful, simply beautiful," Reba chanted as the stack of towels tumbled to the floor. The frowzy red-headed woman walked right over to the bed, her eyes glazed, her face absolutely sappy with lust. "The most beautiful cock in the whole world. Oh, honey, I want that between my legs. I want you to split me right up the middle."
Charles was absolutely bewildered and he immediately recoiled. But there was no escaping the dominating Reba. She ripped off her dress. Her eyes became greedy and demented, and her tongue crept from her mouth, hungrily slithering across her lips in a thrillingly obscene way. She sprang like a panther. Her mouth opened and her pink, wet, serpentine tongue vibrated. She dropped onto his cock and began sucking and licking it as if she were famished.
Charles didn't know what had hit him.
Reba could hardly get it inside her mouth, but she gurgled gleefully as she drew back, grinning down at him. "I want that in my hot, cocksucking mouth."
Her puckered lips attached themselves to the first curve of his glans; they actually sipped the tip, sucked and pressured it, wiggling in the tiny opening at the tip. With her fingers she dragged the flaps of his cock-eye apart and held it open so she could insert the hot tip of her tongue into the narrow channel.
It was inconceivable to Charles that this could be happening to him. He tolerated the insane treatment as long as he could. It seemed like an eternity. Unconsciously, he squirmed on the sheets. Reba mistook this for his wanting to ram the shaft up her cunt. She flattened herself out on the bed and actually held her cunt lips open with her own evil, eager fingers, guiding him in. But then, as he got the head of his cock into her cunt, he felt a galling frustration-psychologically something was blocking him. He hated looking at the woman's ugly face and body. He was aroused, but try as he might, he was just too huge, and he couldn't get his cock in any deeper. He pushed and grunted. She pushed and grunted even more desperately, determined to have him, but the more he tried, the more insane the whole thing seemed.
He was beginning to deflate and she could see from the look on his face that he wanted to withdraw. Reba gave one last plunge against him and incredibly, he went crashing to the depths of her cunt, ejaculating like a prick exploding, jetting shot after shot of his cum into her interior. Reba was dazed and weakened, but Charles was sickened by the experience-for the first time in his life, he felt dirty.
Reba was furious with his reaction. Often she tried for a repeat performance, for she was insatiable, but she always found his door locked. Gradually the thought of her lurking about drove him crazy and for awhile it seemed it would interfere with his studies. So one day he simply moved out.
Charles won still another scholarship to the University of Arkansas School of Medicine. He was still as awkward socially as ever, but he knew he could make the grades to become a doctor. He also thought that his study of medicine and the human body would answer some of his problems, mentally if not physically. He did extremely well in his four years of med school. The anatomy books verified for him that he was one of nature's rare examples of out-sized penises. He also learned a thing or two about the make-up of the female anatomy and decided that obstetrics and gynecology would eventually be his specialty. He even learned to feign a certain sophistication because he seemed to stun everyone with his academic brilliance. Yet the stigma of his early home life and his lack of love and experience made him yearn to escape once again.
So when it came time for the matching program for internships, he applied to the largest medical center in the largest city in the United States, and not surprisingly to him, he was accepted. But once he was accepted, he inherited the problem of figuring out if he could really cope with life in this great metropolis.
He had spent the earlier part of the summer after graduating from medical school in Arkansas, quietly gathering his clothes and personal possessions together, reading about New York, and dreaming of what it might be like. He also gave himself a nickname, "Chaz," which sounded kind of jazzy to him. He hoped that he could carry it off in his new adventure.
He had arrived in Manhattan a week ago and he was dazzled by the size of it. The Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center complex was so large that he kept getting lost. It ran for four blocks north and south and for one wide block from Fifth Avenue to Madison Avenue. It was all connected by a maze of tunnels that would surely have confused even the British during the blitz of World War II. He'd had little time to explore the city.
He was assigned a room in Granger hall, which had at one time been the nurses' residence exclusively, but was now available to male and female medical students as well. The first few days seemed like a razzle-dazzle nightmare because of the new schedules given to him and the ambitious routine charted for him. It all seemed very cold, clinical and ruthless. He began to fear that his search for love and experience might well never take place.
Then on came the heat wave that nearly destroyed the life of the city. He was used to the heat of the country where he could escape to the local swimming hole or sit in the shade of a tree, but never had he experienced this, plus the noise and the hostility. He was certainly not used to the mixture of blacks, Puerto Ricans and Jews. He really felt he was a minority. But yet, here he was and he would make the attempt, although his nickname Chaz now filled him with doubt.
Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by the erratic; breathing of his patient. He turned to look at her and for the first time realized she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He had no idea who she was, but she appeared to be in her early thirties, with movie star good looks, blonde hair and huge green eyes which had fluttered open momentarily, but were now closed. She had tried to speak, but was gasping for breath. He felt her pulse. It was minimal. He grabbed his stethoscope and listened to her heartbeat. It was faint, irregular and slow. He feared that the worst might be happening, and as he listened the heart seemed to stop altogether.
He ripped open the top of her beaded chiffon evening gown. He had found her lying in front of the apartment building still dressed in evening clothes. He placed his fist over her right breast and pounded it hard with his left hand hoping to shock her heart. He tried several times. Then he grabbed his bag, filtered through it and extracted an ampoule of amyl nitrite, snapped it and held it under her nostrils. She responded almost immediately. Her arms flew out and she grabbed for him, for anything to hold on to. Her right arm caught his groin area and latched onto his free-swinging cock. She squeezed it with desperation. Slowly her breathing eased and began to be regular once again. With relief he mopped her sweating forehead. Then he quickly filled a syringe for a glycerin injection and pumped it into her left arm. He suddenly looked down as he folded the arm across her chest and realized that she had the most exquisite breasts he had ever seen, judging strictly on a clinical basis. Except for his masturbating and the attack by Reba Touchet, he was still something of a virgin.
Her hand relaxed a bit, but never let go of his cock which began to stiffen. Slowly he bent over and kissed the luscious mouth, not removing the amyl nitrite from under her nose. Her mouth responded with such passion that he gasped, but in doing so, he, too, inhaled the amyl and was filled with a rushing sensation. He almost collapsed, and he leaned forward. In doing so, he fell across her. She responded automatically and their bodies began to embrace slowly, lugubriously in a passionate kiss.
At this point the ambulance screeched to a halt and Braggert jumped out of the driver's seat, ran around and opened the rear door and said, "Okay, doctor, let's move her."
Half-conscious, the woman would not let go of his hand as she was rolled into the emergency room. Chaz had made up his mind. He would find out who this woman was and, if at all possible, see that she got the best attention he could give her.
The woman revived momentarily and whispered, "Your name, your name.. . "
He leaned over and said, "Arnold, Chaz Arnold," but he was not sure she had heard him before she lapsed into unconsciousness.
He was brushed aside by the tough, mannish nurse in the Emergency Room, but only momentarily, because he was determined to stick close by. When queried as to her identity, he answered that he didn't know. The nurse noted the expensive summer evening dress and from years of finding identifying marks, she looked at the label inside the torn top of the dress. It was from Bergdorf Goodman and was labeled, "Especially designed for Mrs. Rex Hershey."
"My God," the nurse cried, "the ex-movie actress and wife of Rex Hershey, Chairman of the Board of the Medical Center!"
Suddenly there was a flurry of activity around the woman. An inventory of her personal things was quickly but carefully made, and working with the emergency room resident, Chaz told what had happened. Immediate plans were made to transport her to the Hershey Coronary Unit, donated to the Medical Center by the woman's husband, on the double. Her eyes opened and filled with terror. She would not let go of Chaz.
She screamed, "Chaz, don't leave me! Don't leave me!"
Chaz was stunned. She had heard him. "Don't worry, Mrs. Hershey, I'm right with you all the way."
This seemed to relax her and she closed her eyes, but she was not asleep as they wheeled her to the fifth floor coronary unit with Dr. Arnold following along.
Mrs. Rex Hershey, indeed, the woman lying on the stretcher thought to herself. That was a laugh. Her marriage to the great Rex-the conglomerate billionaire-was nothing but a facade. She was no more than an ornament to him now-a beautiful showpiece-an expensive possession.
She had been born Ginger Johnson in Green Cove Springs, Florida, once the end of the line for the East Coast Seaboard Railway and the end of the line for a lot of other things. The town was twenty-six miles from Jacksonville, twenty-six miles from St. Augustine and twenty-six miles from nowhere-the northern part of Florida that the glamorous southern regions filled with sunshine wanted to forget. She had grown up in that miserable little town fatherless, if not in fact a bastard, with a grinning hooker for a mother. The town was located on the St. John's River near a naval base, part of the mothball fleet surrounded by a mothball community. It did, however, provide her mother with customers and she had little competition.
Ginger had blossomed into a beauty at an early age, was deflowered at the age of thirteen and got the hell out of Green Cove Springs by the time she was barely fifteen. The experience had hardened her unbelievably and though it hadn't settled in her face, it had added a maturity and depth to her natural beauty. She looked closer to eighteen than thirteen and nature had filled in the rest of her body as well.
She hitchhiked to New York City where initially she got a job as a waitress in a White Tower hamburger joint. She soon realized she couldn't exist on that kind of money, so eventually she became a part-time hooker. She was so pretty that she was constantly being propositioned-natural blonde hair, green eyes, gorgeous clear skin and a thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six chassis-so even at fifteen she figured she might as well make it pay.
Even now at thirty-three she looked ten years less. By the time she met Rex Hershey she was seventeen and had progressed to hundred dollar Johns and her own East Side apartment. Quite by accident he had spotted her with her face scrubbed, her hair in a pony tail, wearing blue jeans and a sweatshirt. She was just leaving the corner market. When he saw her, he had to have her. Rex was like that. He had his chauffeur pull up to the curb and offered her a lift. She was only going around the corner, but she knew a good thing when she saw it and she played it simple and innocent.
At the time Rex was forty-five. He played Pygmalion to her Galatea and transformed her into a dazzling creature of wit, charm, beauty and education. She had been an eager student and she became Rex's prize possession-only she didn't like being possessed.
She got a part on a daytime television soap opera that catapulted her to Hollywood. Rex didn't object, but he was always lurking in the shadows letting the chain around her neck go just so far before yanking hard on the leash that held her to him.
As he watched her meteoric rise toward stardom in Hollywood, Rex's jealousy got the best of him. Ginger was in the midst of shooting an elaborate, big-budget adventure movie when Rex appeared unannounced one day on the set. She thought he was in Europe. He proposed to her right on the spot in front of the crew, her fellow actors and everyone involved in the production. Word of her extracurricular attraction to her leading man had made him afraid he might be losing her. His proposal of marriage stunned her, and she recognized his desire to lure her away but the comfortable life he offered beat the struggle to stay on top in Hollywood. Besides she was genuinely fond of Rex and his wealth was something she could not resist. It cost Rex two million dollars to buy her out of the picture, but he never counted costs when he wanted something. Their wedding and round-the-world honeymoon turned out to be another two million dollar production.
She had returned to New York and settled into the magnificent apartment on Fifth Avenue that he bought for them although he rarely set foot in it. She had soon fallen into a trap of boredom. She redecorated the apartment; she shopped for beautiful clothes and jewels; she attended dinners, parties, the theatre, but still she was bored. She was strictly for the headlines, "Mrs. Rex Hershey."
Rex played around so much that he gave her a great amount of freedom. So she tried playing around, too, but she made the mistake the first time of falling in love and asking for a divorce. That was more than Rex's ego could tolerate. He told her he would never divorce her and had beaten her up rather badly. She started to drink and the men in her life seemed to get progressively younger. This had led to the experience of last evening from which she had barely escaped alive from her building on this awful hot August morning.
With a wince of pain the events of last evening flashed before her. Her latest stud was a sometime actor named Zack Demetrios. As she thought of it, she tightened her grip on Chaz Arnold's hand, causing him to move as close to her as he could.
Ginger and Zack had been to a new hit Broadway show and then had stopped at one of the new "in" bisexual discos on West 43rd Street. It was so oppressively hot inside that they left almost immediately and went back uptown to her Fifth Avenue apartment. Zack had been impressed with the opulence of the place and found it difficult to believe, as handsome as he thought he was, that he was out with this beautiful ex-movie queen whom he had idolized when he was a teen-ager.
She poured them both a brandy knowing that the tall, dark Zack would probably play with his snifter, but never drink the expensive Remy Martin. Always in control, she thought. My God, can't people ever let go anymore, she asked herself. Still, all things considered, Zack rated "A" plus in the looks department and like all the others, he would probably prove attentive as long as she paid the bills.
Zack looked at Ginger. "You're tense.. . inside, I mean. Can I help?"
Ginger flushed, conscious of his hand on her shoulder and the fact that her irritation was probably showing. "Zack, you're a dear and you're also very perceptive. Things are going to turn out fine. My husband and I have our problems, but we are all grown up now, Zack, and I'll tell you frankly, my only trouble is that I'm horny, horny as hell. I guess it shows on my face." Her sparkling eyes were moist as she continued. "I've found it hard to adjust to my life. Men ask me out, but I don't know.. . I don't enjoy it like I used to. I sleep around, but I feel like a machine." She looked at him searchingly, looking for his reaction, begging him to say something soothing that would make this less awkward.
Zack had seen the desire in her eyes. This beautiful creature-horny? She must be going out with queens, he thought. He remembered the times as a teen-ager when he had masturbated with Ginger's screen image in his mind. She was pink and gold, warm and womanly, and here she was sitting next to him on the couch. One of the world's most desirable women desiring him! Her eyes seemed to be pleading.
Ah, Ginger thought to herself, he's taken the bait. Maybe he doesn't realize what an actress I am.
Zack touched her face and she smiled, "Zack.. .I.. . "
He placed a finger across her lips, silencing her. He then placed a hand on her warm thigh and she sighed, slowly nodding her head and pulled Zack's head to hers. She kissed him and as he kissed back, his hand crept up her thigh and played with her wet cunt, encased in nylon panties. Ginger took Zack's other hand and tenderly placed it on her full breasts.
"Will you suck them, honey? Will you suck Ginger's tits?" she asked in a husky voice while looking into his eyes.
Zack said nothing. A childhood dream was coming true-he was about to do the famous film star blind. With one hand he unbuttoned the halter of her evening gown and pulled it down. Ginger's full breasts, swelling impudently, presented themselves to him. She was lying against the couch, her mouth slightly open, her eyes half closed. Without looking at him, she said, "C'mon, honey, lick my breasts, please."
Zack whipped off his jacket and shirt. "I'll do that later, honey."
With a little effort, Ginger stood up. She let her dress fall down to the floor. She thrust her breasts and body at Zack and closed her eyes.
Zack reached up and pulled her sheer panty hose down her warm thighs. While she arched and waited, he balled the panty hose up and delicately grazed Ginger's right nipple. The sheer material caused the nipple to stiffen. Ginger had been expecting a warm tongue, not the sexy hose on her nipple. She sighed and thrust her breasts out even farther and sank to the couch.
Slowly, agonizingly, Zack grazed her taut nipple with the gossamer material. Her breast seemed to swell into a firmer, sexier cone as he teased the material around the nipple, gently tickling it, then around the full breast.
Ginger was straining now, attempting to catch the nylon with her nipple. But each time she arched and the material brushed her breasts, it slipped away. Damn, she thought, where did this young kid learn how to make me so hot.
Zack drew it up again for another silky caress. While he dangled the panty hose on her firm breasts, Zack eased his other hand between Ginger's legs and gently inserted a finger between her panties and thigh, searching for her cunt. Finding the opening, he slowly slipped his finger into her hot, wet pussy.
Ginger gasped, arched her back to an incredible degree, and gently rocked her hips to allow deeper insertion. Zack stopped teasing her breasts and started to rub the nylon over them. Both nipples were erect now and Zack decided to speed up the proceedings. His cock was pulsating, fully erect-rubbing Ginger's tits had excited him to a fever pitch.
"I'm going to fuck you good. Take off my clothes while my finger's in your cunt," Zack whispered.
Ginger's eyes were fierce slits as she complied readily. She adjusted her body so Zack's finger could remain in her cunt and started to unbutton Zack's shirt. Realizing that removal would necessitate the removal of his finger, Ginger worked on his belt buckle. His finger was thick, not like a cock, but it felt good.. . good to have her cunt invaded.. . soon his cock would be there. Her supple fingers flew and Zack's cock was outlined against his shorts. He raised his legs and Ginger swiftly pulled his pants over his bare feet. She was pleased to find that he'd taken off his shoes.
Zack's thumb found Ginger's clit and he slowly flicked the sensitive flesh as he bent over to kiss her warm mouth. His tongue sought hers and they kissed. He squeezed his thumb and finger together inside her cunt. His face burned. She was flushed. They were about to fuck.
Ginger pulled her mouth from Zack's and left him hanging. She concentrated her gaze on his cock. She placed her hand on his belly and slipped a polished nail between his shorts and his warm flesh. Slowly, she moved her finger along his belly, pulling out the elastic, not pulling down the shorts. Once the tip of her finger brushed the soft head of
Zack's cock and he shuddered in anticipation of the moment when her warm, silky palm would grip his prick and pump it, readying it for insertion. He didn't have long to wait as she slid her hand beneath the elastic and grasped the throbbing shaft.
"Oh, Zack, it's so thick, so big," said Ginger, gazing with her glistening eyes into his and smiling sensually. "I want to make it wet.. . for me, Zack," she continued. "Stand up, honey. I want to sit here on the couch and suck you a little. Get up, honey."
Zack disengaged his finger and Ginger sighed. He stood up, staring down at Ginger. He presented his hard, thick meat to her. She looked up and smiled faintly-for a moment he was transported to all those days in the darkness of the movie theatre when he pulled his cock and thought of her firm, young body. His reverie was extinguished by Ginger. Her full lips were puckered and she was blowing a cool stream of air at his cock. It was bobbing in the air, a scant two inches from her lovely mouth.
Zack's cock was about to burst when Ginger whispered, "I'm going down on you now, honey. I'm going to make you all wet for me., . mmmmmmmm." Ginger slowly moved her head toward Zack's cock. Grasping the stiff shaft in her velvet hand, she kissed the head. Squeezing the shaft at the base to prevent him from coming prematurely, Ginger started to blow him. Gently she enclosed his cockhead in her mouth. Her tongue closed over the hole in the tip as she tried vainly to insert it in the pulsing shaft.
Zack tensed and enjoyed her soft sucking. She was so good, so soft that lie wanted to fill her mouth with cum. Ginger realizing that Zack was too adept to shoot prematurely, commenced a pumping motion on the shaft, feeding the hot prick into her sucking mouth. She bobbed her head rhythmically, sometimes taking the whole cock down her throat, sometimes teasing the tip with her burning tongue, occasionally holding her head still and letting his pre-cum drool mix with her thick saliva. Zack started to pump his hips and Ginger, experienced in these delicate matters, pulled her head off his cock and squeezed the base.
"Easy, honey.. . easy. You don't want to shoot your cum in Ginger's face, do you? Easy, honey. I'm just making you wet so you can fuck me. I'm almost finished, honey.. . almost."
Zack groaned. The bitch! She knew that kind of talk would make him cum. She knew! But she wouldn't stop. Now her wet, hot tongue was licking his shaft, her hand was gently squeezing his balls. She was sighing, making sexy sounds as she bent to her task. She was teasing him, just as he had teased her breasts with the nylon.
Zack responded like an angry child. He pushed her shoulder so her head would leave his cock. She looked up in surprise. Did he detect a glint of triumph in her eyes? Roughly, he pushed her body down onto the couch. In a frenzy he mounted her, his cock couched on her lush pubic hairs.
He guided his cock to the entrance of her wet cunt. Ginger's firm back arched once more. She was burning, flesh against his flesh, belly against his belly, buttery thighs spread wide, begging him to enter her.. . fuck her. He positioned his cock at the entrance to her pussy like a warrior about to throw his spear. His muscles tensed. Like a victim with unseeing eyes, Ginger watched Zack's face, lusty, hungry.. . he was poised ready to fuck her. He teased her.
He pushed his cock against the wet opening of her cunt. He thrust in until the tip was encased in wet warmth. Ginger tensed. Zack pulled out. She spread her legs wider and pushed her hips against his. He drew back and she beat her hips helplessly against him.
"Oh, God, Zack. Give it to me!"
Zack fucked into her, to the base of his cock.
"Aaahhh, baby," Ginger sighed. "That's so good, honey.. . so good."
Zack grunted and sank himself into the warmth and softness of her dripping, sexy cunt. Her breasts were flat against her chest and he bit her neck as their hips rotated rhythmically. His tongue fucked her ear as his cock fucked her cunt. Ginger was frantic beneath him. Her soft hands pulled at his buttocks, then traveled up his back and down again. She ground her hips against his groin, pushing her clit against his hard crotch. The rhythm established, they decided to play.
Zack pulled out until only the tip of his cock was still inside and Ginger held her ass tense, waiting for his plunge. He timed his thrusts irregularly, surprising her with each plunge. She was moaning now and Zack felt himself on the crazy edge of orgasm.
Ginger went into her first cum. Her ankles locked on Zack's lower back; her hands pulled at him. He thrust in deeply, all the way, and kept his cock embedded as she came around it, pumping furiously and finally tensing, moaning meaningless sounds. She was now a creature of sex and Zack was fucking her.
"Mmmmmm.. . baby. Oh, Zack, good, honey. Mmmmmm," she sighed in his ear.
He looked into her big green eyes and smiled at her, pausing and almost withdrawing. His cock was aching for release, his balls were tense in their liquid sac. Ginger came down and Zack started his slow fuck again.
He thrust to the limit and Ginger accepted all the cock he could give her. She placed one hand on the small of his back, edging toward his asshole. Zack started to lose control. He was about to burst, shoot his hot cum into his dream girl's cunt, fill her with the sweet cream of a fulfilled dream. His movements became swift and erratic. Ginger's hand snaked to his balls. She squeezed. His face was twisted. Every muscle was tense. Ginger gasped, "Cum, honey, cum. Baby, give it!"
Zack's jerky pumping sent Ginger into another orgasm. As her body tensed and her mind floated in a haze of pleasure, the first drops of cum spattered in her wet cunt.
"Give it to momma, honey, fuck momma," she moaned as Zack kept cuming and she came around his cock.
The room spun as both reached their peaks. As Zack's spurts turned to dribbles, Ginger still writhed beneath him in the throes of orgasm. He squeezed her with his arms, his body, his legs, to help her eke out every nuance of sensation, every drop of pleasure. Finally, she tensed and her gasps turned to soft cries-they lay on the couch, breathing heavily, waiting their return to reality. His fantasy-come-true had ended.
Ginger opened her eyes and smiled at him. He wondered how she was going to react. His question was answered by a light kiss on the lips, as she reached for her brandy snifter and slowly drained it.
She slipped back into her dress which signaled Zack that he was dismissed for the evening. She refilled her glass and sat down on the couch. She was a little tipsy, but she thought she detected a glint of anger in Zack's eyes.
"What's the matter, Zack," she purred.
"Must you drink so much?"
"You should learn, Zack, and you'd be much better company out in public."
Suddenly furious, Zack slapped her across the face knocking the drink from her hand. She staggered to her feet, twisting her slipper in the plush carpet and fell to the floor. She must have passed out because she vaguely remembered awakening when she smelled the smoke. Her maid was off for the weekend and she half-stumbled, half-fell toward the door. When she opened it she passed out again.
Now here she was being placed in an isolation room in Rex's special ward. How ironic it all was. As she looked up she saw the face of Chaz Arnold looking down at her.
"Thank you, Chaz. Don't forget me. I trust you," were the last words she spoke before she lapsed into unconsciousness.
CHAPTER THREE
When he opened the international edition of the Herald Tribune at the Chateau Bienvenue in Geneva, Switzerland, Ricky Whiting was stunned by a headline on the second page:
MRS. REX HERSHEY SURVIVES FIRE IN
APARTMENT BUILDING. NOW IN HERSHEY CORONARY UNIT OF MANHATTAN FIFTH AVENUE MEDICAL CENTER.
"Jesus," Ricky thought to himself. "What will Rex do when he hears about this?"
Ricky Whiting was Rex Hershey's personal secretary, traveling companion, and perhaps the world's most expensive gofer. He was now thirty-five years old, but he had been with Rex for over seventeen years. He was another of Rex's educational investments. He was just a skinny kid starting his freshman year at New York University when one day as he was leaving a class near Washington Square, he happened to see this well-dressed man crossing the street without noticing that he was going against the light and that in a matter of seconds, a florist's delivery truck rounding the corner would hit him. Ricky dropped his books without another thought, dashed to the curb and tackled the man so that he fell back toward the curb just as the truck careened around the corner missing him by inches.
Rex Hershey was unhurt, but for a moment or two he was a little dazed. Then as a crowd began to gather around him, he recalled what had happened. The driver had stopped his truck by this time, jumped out and run over to see if he was hurt. Ricky helped Rex to his feet, brushing the gentleman off. Rex was indeed flustered and his heart was beating like a tom-tom, not so much from being thrown to the ground, but from the fact that he had just finished a wild fuck session with one of his girlfriends, a famous Broadway musical comedy singing star, in an apartment in Washington Mews. He was still feeling the effects of too many poppers at midday and trying to walk away from the building unnoticed, always keeping his image circumspect.
Once he realized that he was unharmed, he brushed aside any assistance from the people gathered around in the hope that he could get the hell out of there before the police came or anyone discovered who he was and why he was in the neighborhood. He grabbed Ricky by the arm and said, "Follow me, sonny."
Ricky, taken aback by this command, grabbed his books and did as he was told. Rex quickly maneuvered him around the corner on to Eighth Street where the longest car he had ever seen was waiting with a chauffeur inside. Without waiting for the driver to jump out and open the door, Rex grabbed the rear door, opened it, pulled himself inside and yanked Ricky in behind him.
"Drive, dammit!" Rex yelled at the driver. "Head downtown toward Wall Street and then circle back through the traffic uptown, but keep an eye out for anyone who might be following us."
Ricky looked at the man in his expensively tailored suit and then at the plush atmosphere of the limousine's interior. He was absolutely dumbfounded.
Rex took a look at Ricky in his blue jeans, sneakers, and windbreaker, holding his textbooks like a lost puppy. He also noticed his long curly eyelashes, his big brown eyes and his hair which seemed to have been peroxided in recent months, but was fighting to return to its normal mouse brown color. Rex thought to himself, it's September now and that color didn't come from the summer sunshine.
Rex looked straight at Ricky and verbally let fly, "Tell me, son. What's your name?"
"Ricky.. . Ricky Whiting."
"Ricky what? Don't give me that shit. A mess-quite like you wasn't born with the name Whiting. What's your real name?"
Ricky flushed purple and scarlet. "God, does it show that bad?" Ricky had only recently had his first gay experience and was so afraid he had told no one about it.
Further questions revealed that Ricky lived with his parents in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn, had just finished high school, had always wanted to be a movie star like his hero Rock Hudson, but had had to settle for studying business administration at New York University to please his parents. He hated living at home, he had very few friends and apparently just existed from day to day with not a heck of a lot to look forward to.
Rex was amused at how uncomfortable he made Ricky, but he liked the kid's selflessness in risking his life for his own. Rex allayed Ricky's fears about being gay-no, it was not printed on a sign over his head. He simply knew that if he were not gay now, he would be. Rex could never feel indebted to anyone so he immediately started designing a plan of action for Ricky.
He thought to himself that the kid could prove useful. He was business-oriented and fearless with no earthbound connections. Rex had been looking for a personal secretary that could keep his mind on business and become a jack-of-all-trades and this little faggot might just prove to be what he needed.
"Listen, kid, how would you like to work for me?"
"Work for you? I don't even know who you are. You've called me a mess--quite, a liar and a faggot and never even said thank you for helping you. Why would I want to work for you?"
Rex was surprised by his honesty and his quick volley with words. "I'm Rex Hershey and I appreciate the fact that you saved my life. I think you can be of help to me, so I'll help you-if you prove in the long run to be as loyal as you were fearless just now. I'll take you on part-time, sort of as an errand boy or runner, while you go to school. I want you to continue your studies. I'll pay for them. But you double up your schedule and add shorthand and typing."
"I already know how to type," Ricky answered, thinking how he had been the fastest typist in his high school typing class.. . faster than all the girls.
"Great, then it shouldn't burden you too much to learn the other part. You may never have to use it, but don't ever forget what you learn because I may suddenly need the service. I'll move you into a studio where you can be on call when I need you and so that I can keep my eyes on you to make sure that you study and finish your work. Eventually you'll handle my personal business affairs and work for me full-time. But if you ever prove disloyal, the deal is off."
Ricky couldn't believe it What could he possibly do for this obviously very rich man? Sure, he'd seen Rex Hershey's name in the newspapeVs, but he never thought in terms of business on that grand a scale.
"You'll be given a spending allowance. You can continue to see your fag friends as long as they don't interfere with my schedule, and you can be sure I would yank you off your ass on the downstroke if I needed you, and by the way, keep the name Whiting, I like it!"
"Okay, Mr. Hershey. You got yourself a deal, but only if you never ever call me fag, faggot, queer, or any of those other names again."
Ah, the kid has spunk, Rex thought to himself. "Agreed," and so their strange relationship had begun.
Ricky had graduated from New York University cum laude in three years time by doubling up summers. But his real education had come from keeping up with Rex Hershey in his spare time. At first he only did small chores for him, but he kept close watch on all of Rex's activities, and as Rex's trust in him grew, so did his responsibilities. By the time he finished N.Y.U., he handled all of Rex's personal appointments, booked his reservations, handled his correspondence, and wrote his personal checks, the amounts of which dazzled Ricky for a long time. Also, he learned to create an alibi to cover Rex's every move.
On his own Ricky went to a gym and worked out to give his body definition, got his nose fixed at Rex's expense, had his hair reshaped and turned from a meesquite into a rather attractive young man. His loyalty to Rex grew to one hundred percent surety.
The years had flown by and although at times it was wearisome keeping up with Rex, Ricky loved his job. He had occasional time off and with the increasingly large sums of money Rex paid him (and the things he had accumulated thanks to Rex's business advice), he could easily afford to buy any hustler anywhere in the world for just about any price they wanted to ask, but Ricky drove a hard bargain-something Rex had taught him.
They were in Geneva for their annual visit to the Chateau Bienvenue which was a cover name for the Swiss Hospital for Gerontological Study and Experimentation. Rex went there for his annual series of sheep innards injections, his sleep cure for his body weight and whatever cosmetic surgery he felt necessary. The Chateau looked like no other hospital in the world from its perch on the mountainside looking down at Geneva. From the outside it looked more like a baronial estate, but behind that facade were the most sterile, best-equipped laboratories and operating rooms in the world with the most innovative medical research programs into the preservation of youth to be found anywhere.
The problem with the headline in the Herald Tribune was not that Rex might become upset; it was that he was in his ten-day sleep cure and would not be awakened for two more days.
"God, let's hope Ginger doesn't drop dead before he comes to," Ricky muttered to himself. "He wouldn't be able to stand it if she sneaked out on him that way without saying goodbye," which, as Ricky had come to learn, was the way Rex thought about people.
Over the years because of his intimate knowledge of the details of Rex's life, Ricky and Ginger had been almost like brother and sister. He had already cabled Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center and made arrangements for their top corps of specialists to look after Ginger's every need. The hospital had little choice with the enormous amount of money that Rex endowed upon it. He had also arranged for her to have all the extra personal attention that Rex enjoyed in hospitals, including catered meals, redecorating of the room she occupied and any other special treats wanted. Sure there were hospital rules, but they were for the public, not for Rex.
"The patient comes first," was Rex's credo when it came to himself.
It was Monday morning when Ricky read the paper. Rex would not learn the news until he was awakened on Wednesday. He still had to line up the special nurses for Rex's recuperative period at Chateau Bienvenue, so he decided that today was as good a time as any.
He called the special nursing service, Excalibur Registry, which was almost as famous as the clinic itself. The very rich frequented these spas and the very rich often had very peculiar ideas as to what constituted private duty nursing. These nurses were equipped for anything. He arranged to have several candidates sent over at three o'clock that afternoon. He had time to have a light lunch, shower and get ready for the meeting which would take place in the private apartment that Rex always arranged for him to make him comfortable during their stay in Switzerland.
Actually the interviews were more like private auditions and it was never necessary to question their medical nursing capacities. That much was taken for granted. It was their special facility that had to be demonstrated.
The phone rang in his apartment promptly at three o'clock to let Ricky know that the candidates had arrived and were waiting.
"Thank you. Send up the first. I will send word down when I am ready for the next."
Unfortunately, the first candidate was a gorgeous Amazon creature. She was riveting to look at and as she dropped her coat you could see the contours of her statuesque figure breathing against the seams of her thin white nylon uniform. Without a word, she pulled one button and the entire uniform dropped to the floor. She had magnificent breasts encased in a black leather bra and a snatch that looked edible to any gourmet of pussy even though it was covered with a tiny leather G-string. She was also wearing thigh high-laced leather boots.
She whipped out a huge dildo and quickly set it upright on the floor. In an instant she snapped off the bra and G-string and was about to straddle and swoop down on the dildo when Ricky, knowing Rex's disdain for black nurses, interrupted. "I'm terribly sorry, my dear, but you are not what my employer has in mind."
Feeling no embarrassment whatsoever, she bent over, making sure that Ricky was practically sniffing up her asshole, picked up her dress and left. These candidates were well-prepared for their work by the Registry and they were trained to evidence no personal anger or disappointment at any time.
The next time the door opened, in walked two-not one-delightful Oriental girls. They had to be identical twins, Ricky thought. It was incredible. They seemed to be constantly giggling, but it was an infectious kind of laughter that perked Ricky up for the first time that day. They both had pixie faces edged with black hair, ivory white skin, rather wide, open eyes for Orientals, and wonderful bodies. They stood side by side and with one surprise movement yanked each other's uniforms off. Their breasts were small, but their bodies were well-shaped and hairless. They had shaved their cunt hair into the shape of hearts.
Seeing that Ricky did not stop them, they started into their demonstration. In slow motion they kissed each other and then like Chinese acrobats began to maneuver themselves through a series of acrobatic positions. Ricky was fascinated. Slowly they swung into a sixty-nine position and sluiced each other's cunts with relish while finger fucking each other's assholes. They looked so much alike that it was as if the act were being done with mirrors. They worked themselves into an orgasmic climax and lapped each other's cunt juices with extreme joy.
Ricky found that even he was aroused and thought this might be just the sort of tonic for Rex. Heaven knows, thought Ricky, he's tried everything else at least twice. When they finished, they started giggling again. He asked them to wait in the library while he saw some of the others.
The next time the door opened, a male nurse walked in. He was so stunning that Ricky felt his own breath exhale in a gasp. He was nearly six feet tall and blond, with a Robert Redford look right down to his dimpled chin. Ricky knew that Rex would never even consider a male nurse and was surprised that the Registry had sent him over.
"I'm sorry, but there must have been a mistake," Ricky announced, trying to conceal his considerable attraction to this Adonis-like creature. But before he could say anything else, the man had dropped his jacket and trousers and stood there in all his manliness defying Rick to refuse. The light from the windows in back of him seemed to add to his golden glow. His body was perfection. He had wide shoulders, well-formed pectoral muscles tapering to a narrow waist and his chest, covered with golden hair and his narrow hips led Ricky's line of vision right on down to his fat cock and wonderful balls. He was fantastic.
"But, I'm.. . " stuttered Ricky.
With that the blond god turned around and flexed his buttocks in such a way that Ricky's teeth ached to bite them. Suddenly he was struck with a plan. If he hired the twins and used this guy to wheel Rex about, Rex could use the three of them for his kinky demonstrations until he was fully recovered and in the meantime, Ricky could benefit from a little tender loving care of his own.
"What's your name," asked Ricky almost afraid the vision would disappear.
"Eric Vondergaard."
"Eric, wait here. I want to check on something."
He went into the library where the two girls were waiting. Their names were Pearl and Lotus. Ricky explained what he had in mind and the girls started to giggle outrageously. The fact that they did not seem to ever say anything-just giggle-amused Ricky. They shook their heads approvingly at the plan and he asked them to follow him back into the living room.
"Eric, may I present Lotus and Pearl. If you are all as talented as you are recommended to be, you will nurse my employer back to health in no time at all."
Eric did not blink an eye. After looking into the faces of the two girls as if summing up the situation, he returned his gaze to Ricky.
"Now, I wonder if the three of you might show me an example of the kind of therapy you have in mind for my-or rather-your future employer."
The girls giggled again and ran toward Eric. He stood with his legs spread apart and held his arms out as if to command them to stop.
"Follow my direction," he said slowly. "First of all, let me lick your cunts and asses for we have work to do and I want you well-lubricated."
The girls went into gales of laughter as they rushed toward him. The three of them lay down on the floor and seemed to become a tangled mass of arms, legs, cunts, bobbing heads and cock. He chewed their snatches, licked their clits and assholes while they devoured his cock, his balls and his asshole. Ricky thought at one point he had seen the girls by-passing Eric for each other, but it was only a fleeting kiss while he was fingering one and sucking the other.
"Okay, now!" Erick commanded. "Up!" and with that he grabbed Lotus, turned her around with his back to him, bent her over forward and thrust his erect cockshaft into her pussy from underneath. She didn't even flinch. It slid in up to the hilt. Then he lifted her up, bent his legs, and she perched on his cock with her feet resting on his knees and her arms thrust backward holding onto his buttocks. Then he grabbed Pearl's hands and with what seemed like superhuman strength hoisted her into the air in a half flip so that her legs went over his shoulders and his tongue went into her snatch. She was facing downward and her head interlocked into a kiss with Lotus. It was like a living circus tableau. Then suddenly the machine started to move. Eric fucked Lotus' snatch while he ate Pearl's pussy. The girls kissed each other and Pearl pinched Lotus' tits. Lotus had her hands on Eric's buttocks and found her way to his asshole. She began to finger fuck him. It was an act that Ricky could not believe.
"Ooooohhhhh," he moaned to himself, barely able to control his visible erection. "My, God, I've never seen anything like it." He now had his dick out and was beginning to jerk it off.
Lotus motioned for him to come near, and still perched on Eric's legs getting fucked, she started to go down on him. They were all in motion now. While Lotus sucked on Ricky's nice Jewish cock, Ricky tweaked Eric's nipples. The hot action peaked and suddenly Ricky's load shot into Lotus' mouth, as Eric's load shot into the folds of Lotus' cunt just as her juices let go and Pearl's orgasm began to drool over the corners of Eric's mouth. It was a quadruple climax and suddenly all four bodies collapsed to the floor in a heap with Lotus and Pearl giggling like crazy. Eric was probably anything to everyone, thought Ricky, but he was convinced that Lotus and Pearl were really lesbians, and that might give Rex a run for his money.
Ricky called down to the concierge and told him to dismiss the rest of the candidates. The four of them fooled around awhile longer and ended up with their male-to-male and female-to-female preferences showing. Then they all showered together.
"I want all of you to report to the Penthouse Suite A of the Chateau on Wednesday morning. You will be working for my employer who shall remain nameless, of course. You will tend to his every need," and Ricky pinched Eric on the butt and said, "and you will do a little overtime for me."
Lotus and Pearl erupted into gales of laughter once again.
On Wednesday morning the professional staff of Chateau Bienvenue assembled about Rex Hershey in one of the brightly lighted operating rooms to begin the slow process of reviving him. For the past two weeks he had been kept asleep under medication being fed a controlled diet to balance his weight properly. He had initially had some ugly reactions to the sheep innards, but the swelling had receded and Rex in his slumber looked well indeed. The bandages had been removed from around his eyes where a bit of cosmetic surgery had removed the bags from his upper lids.
Ricky had been allowed to scrub and be gowned to be with the other physicians near his employer. The situation with Ginger worried him. He had been in constant touch with Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center and knew that she was still alive. She had now regained consciousness. The doctors knew that she had not suffered a heart attack as they had initially suspected. Few young women under the age of forty ever do because of their supply of hormones which protects them. Yet there was the danger of rheumatic fever which might require surgery. A decision on her surgery would be forthcoming soon.
The chief specialist inserted a syringe ipto Rex's arm and they all waited. Within a matter of minutes Rex's eyes began to flicker and then they opened wide. The doctor examined the surgical scars and seemed satisfied, although all of the tiny stitches had yet to dissolve. Rex still seemed to be drugged and did not move. His eyes stared at the overhead ceiling and then his lips began to move tremblingly.
"Ricky," he said.
"Yes, I'm here, Rex."
"Ricky, I've had this terrible recurring dream about Ginger. I couldn't shake it. I feel that something terrible has happened to her."
My God, thought Ricky, does he always know what is happening to his possessions-even when he's asleep?
The doctors had been warned about Ginger Hershey's condition and didn't want the shock to come too rapidly to him not knowing for certain how the patient might react. Another needle was pumped into his arm filled with a mild tranquilizer. Knowing from experience that this was not the usual routine, Rex sought and found Ricky's eyes.
"Something's happened to Ginger. Goddammit! What's wrong?"
From years of experience, Ricky knew that he could not tell Rex a lie. First of all, Rex would know he was lying, and second, he knew the terrible consequences of such an act.
Ricky drew closer to the table and reached out to Rex's arm. "Ginger is going to be all right. She was in a fire in her building.. . "
Before he could finish, Rex screamed, "My beautiful Ginger's not burned-not my beautiful Ginger." He was like a madman.
"No, Rex, no! She was not burned or disfigured in any way. She is at Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center in your Hershey Coronary Unit. At first they thought she might have had a coronary induced by smoke inhalation, but that is not the problem. She is conscious. They might have to do some minor surgery, but she will survive un-marred."
"Oh, my God," Rex moaned and tears filled his eyes. The doctors quickly started to swab them with a chemical saline solution so that no infection would set in.
Rex seemed to withdraw and closed his eyes. He was not asleep, but he was thinking of the first time he ever laid eyes on that beautiful creature.
CHAPTER FOUR
It had been a Saturday afternoon and Rex had been doing some shopping in midtown Manhattan. It had been early fall and he had recently returned from his stay at the hospital in Switzerland. His car was headed east across 50th Street when he saw a dazzling blonde child come bouncing out of a market at the corner of Second Avenue. She was wearing blue jeans, a sweatshirt and her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Even with the sweatshirt on, he could see her boobs dancing up and down. The wiggle of her ass was so appealing, but more than that it was the face-so fresh, so young, so untouched.
He had his chauffeur follow her and pull over. He opened the door and asked, "Miss, can I give you a lift?"
He looked at her startled eyes as they flashed green in front of him-green for "go" he thought to himself.
She looked puzzled at first, but did a quick appraisal of the car and the man and said, "Well, sure," as he extended his hand to help her into the car, "but I honestly don't have far to go. I only live around the corner, but this sure is nice of you to offer to take me there."
Rex was charmed.
Ginger knew it. She played it all wide-eyed and innocent. As the car pulled around the corner to her apartment, she looked up at Rex and smiled, "Well, thanks very much."
Rex was miffed for a moment, wondering what he could do to prevent her leaving him. He couldn't let her get away. "Can't I have my man carry your bundles upstairs for you?"
"Oh, no, that's not necessary," she said as she leaned forward and started to step out of the car making sure mentally that Rex was getting a wide-screen close-up view of her ass as she did so. Then she turned around and said, "I could offer you a cup of coffee, but I'd be so embarrassed for you to see my place. It's such a mess."
"Well, then. If you feel that way, why don't you take your things upstairs, freshen up, and come back down and I'll take you to lunch."
Ginger's brain thought about it for a moment or two quickly trying to juggle her schedule for the rest of the day. She had a date at five o'clock with a special two hundred dollar John, but if she could break it, she knew she had a far richer one on her hook.
"Okay," she said. "That would be just great. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be back down. Now don't you go off and forget me," she cooed.
She ran into her building and went straight up to her apartment. She called her telephone service and was relieved to find the five o'clock John had called and canceled. It was an omen. "All clear. Okay, Mr. Bigstuff, here I come."
She quickly changed her clothes. She had already showered before going out to the market. She did a deft make-up job, adding lip gloss and a blusher along with some eye accent. The effect of the transformation was startling. She picked out a simple mauve silk jersey dress with long fitted sleeves and a low-cut, rounded neckline and matching shoes. She shook her hair loose and bounded back toward the elevator ready to meet her future. She believed in surprises and this was certainly one for the books.
Rex was more than appreciative of Ginger's appearance. He had originally thought of taking her to some low-key place for lunch, but he changed his mind. His eyes were twinkling when he said to the driver, "Call Henri at Lutece and tell him we're on our way."
The driver dialed on the air-radio telephone from the car and then started toward the exclusive French restaurant. Ginger thought she had heard of the place, but at seventeen the name didn't mean much. How was she to know that it was one of the top ten snob restaurants in New York?
Since it was Saturday, the restaurant was not crowded. It was located in a beautifully restored brownstone on East 50th Street between Third and Second Avenues. The maitre d' led them to Rex's regular table on the second floor overlooking the lovely garden out back. When asked what she would like to drink, Ginger answered, "White wine."
Rex was pleased for he thought that quite sensible. At least she wasn't a stupid kid ordering a drink she couldn't handle. At that moment he had no idea that she was only seventeen. They chatted idly for a few minutes and the maitre d' brought them the menu. In such exclusive establishments, only the host's menu has the prices printed on it. The one given to Ginger was in French and without prices. She was confused and didn't want to show it.
"What would you like, my dear?" asked Rex.
"Why don't you order for both of us," she answered holding her breath that she wouldn't be caught with her lack of knowledge showing.
Rex had ordered an expensive, excellent bottle of Chablis. After the first few sips, they both began to relax. She had agreed to the salmon mousse with endive salad. Sitting side by side on the banquette, he moved his knee toward her. Feeling no resistance, he gained momentum and started to slide his hand between her legs.
Ginger's juices were hot, but this wasn't the way she wanted the game to be played. Feigning surprise and toying with the stem of her wine glass, she reacted as if she had been pinched, tipping the wine glass to her left and spilling it into Rex's lap. His napkin covered most of the damage as he jumped up hurriedly, but still he was embarrassed by his miscalculation. When he returned from the men's room, he had regained his poise and a new admiration for Ginger.
After lunch, once again settled in the back of the limousine, Rex suggested they go up to his apartment. He had told her he had a wonderful art collection.
Ginger reacted enthusiastically, "Why, I'd love to. I don't know much about art, but I'd love to learn all I can."
To Rex that was like open sesame. Anyone who was willing to learn, he was willing to help.
The limousine pulled up to the River House at Sutton Place and East 57th Street. Ginger knew she was ready-and willing-but she had to know for what.
Rex's apartment turned out to be a triplex. Ginger wanted to act nonchalant, but she was so awed by the furnishings she audibly gasped when they entered the foyer and she got her first glimpse of the curving stairway leading to the second floor. The black and white marble floor was strictly from a motion picture dream for her and when Rex started leading her about dropping the names of Picasso, Renoir, Monet, and Utrillo, she gave up.
"Rex, I don't know anything about these artists. These paintings are fabulous although I don't understand some of them, but then again this whole place is fabulous."
Rex was struck with her honesty. He rang for the butler and asked him to serve coffee in the upstairs library. This room was less formal than many of the others and was the place where Rex did much of his work.
Ginger settled down into a Chippendale sofa covered in taupe taffeta and sank so far into it she thought she was heading for the floor. She started to laugh at how funny it was and so did Rex. It broke the ice.
"Come here, my baby," said Rex.
Ginger moved closer to him.
"Just how old are you?" asked Rex.
"I'm seventeen," answered Ginger, fully aware of Rex's eyes staring down at her bosom.
Rex exhaled a sigh of relief. At least it wouldn't be statutory rape.
Ginger was actually excited by Rex and felt if he didn't make the first move soon, that she would take the initiative.
Rex took her hand and he pulled her toward him. He planted a slow probing kiss on her exquisite mouth. At first she acted restrained and then suddenly she responded with such force that Rex fell backward on the sofa and they both rolled onto the two-inch thick carpeting. She started bouncing and writhing and clung to him.
"Kiss me, again, Rex. I love it. Touch me, touch my breasts," and with that she reached behind her and unfastened the back of her dress, letting her breasts fall free.
Rex was stupefied. He pulled back. So did she. She stood up and let her dress fall to the floor revealing the pale blonde pubic hair covering her Venus mound. "Rex, take your clothes off-now."
Rex was not used to receiving commands, only giving them, but he responded within seconds.
"Now touch my pussy," she blurted. "Touch my cunt-my hot, aching cunt!"
Rex's immediate reaction was to stop this. These were the words of a common whore. But he couldn't stop. He knew he couldn't stop. He'd already passed the point of no return and tasting Ginger's sweet, moist lips, feeling her hot, pointed tongue slither inside his mouth had set him on fire. He knew he was lost. This could only end one way-in this gorgeous cunt's cunt.
He moved toward her body and placed his lips on the squashy velvet of her cunt. He sank into a deeper, more debilitating trance. He kissed Ginger shamelessly, handled her sweet, puffy pubis, fingered her vulva, found her hard tiny clitoris. As if moving in a dream, he found his finger gliding into Ginger's vagina. He found himself pistoning and swirling it expertly, the motions making her stiffen and whimper with ecstasy.
He was not amazed to find her hymen gone, for he realized that this young lady knew exactly what she was doing and had done it before.
Ginger mewled, adjusted and let her famished cunt begin to clench and suck on the soothing finger-just as if she were milking it with her vaginal muscles. Rex could think of nothing else but the dazzling, thrilling licentious sensations going through him from brain to groin, sensations that made his cock feel like it would explode, the swollen head so savagely agonized that he fought to suppress a thick scream.
Ginger stepped forward and began to touch the head of his cock, to slide her slender, smooth fingers up and down its slippery, heavily veined underside, to graze the puckery flesh of his scrotum with her sharp nails.
Rex groaned and lurched back on the rug, his cock throbbing like someone had just nailed the glans with a sledge hammer. Then Ginger instantly sidled forward and said, "The woman licks it, doesn't she, Rex? She shows her love by licking the man's prick, by taking it in her mouth, sucking it? Isn't that right, Rex?" And with that she slid her luscious lips over the stiff head of his cock.
Rex nearly died as Ginger floated to her knees and crowded between his legs. She took his testicles in her warm hand and let his cock slide out of her mouth. Then her hot, wet, swirling tongue was back and he thought he'd surely suffer a heart attack at the sight of her lovely head working on his phallus, her tongue twinkling and lapping, her mouth gliding up and down its length covering all sides of his gnarled veined pillar of masculinity. He thought he'd lose his mind as he heard her soft, childish humming, the click and slurp of her lips.
He watched in stunned disbelief as she hovered over his prick, licked and sucked and manipulated it. Then Ginger threw her head back and lay with her legs spread before him on the floor. If he didn't bury his cock deep in her hot, wet, female flesh this very moment, he'd be transformed into a slathering, raving maniac!
Rex knelt across Ginger with an imploring look, begging for reassurance as he watched her heaving breasts and undulating thighs. He took his cock in one hand and began corkscrewing it into the outer vaults of her vulva. Then he felt his cockhead contract and narrow to a blunt point as it passed through those first fleshy straits of her vagina. Thgn his entire cockhead was inside, lubricating and stretching.
Ginger moaned.
Rex mistakenly thought he was hurting her. "There, baby, there. Does it hurt so much? Relax, relax, baby. Let your sweet little pussy stretch, let it swallow me up." His voice was pinched and agonized.
Ginger lay back with her eyes closed so he wouldn't know she was laughing. She was doing her utmost to control her passageways, intentionally making it hard for Rex to penetrate. So far he hadn't realized what an actress she was.
"Yes, you're hurting me, but such a good hurt," she groaned.
"Tight, so tight! You've got the tightest cunt I've ever been in."
"Have I, Rex?" she wailed, squeezing out tears of pain as pride streamed across her face. "Oh, I'm so glad. I'm so glad I please you." She frowned determinedly. "Yes, Rex. I'm ready now. Please, Rex. Fuck me! Fuck me now."
And slowly, gently, relentlessly picking up speed moment by moment, Rex began to thrust his cock into her murderously tight vagina. Moment by moment it enlarged, relaxed. Moment by moment Ginger's cries lessened, until now, at the proper time, they were joyful.
"It's good, Rex," she gurgled paganly, "so good, so very gooo-oood! It only hurts a little bit now. I've been waiting for so long. Yes, Rex, yes. Fuck me! Fuck.. . Oh, FUCK MEEEEE!"
Then Rex went into high, and adjusting his body for perfect cant and penetration, he settled down for the run. He knew his own climax was near, but at the same time he resolved to hold himself back as long as he could in an attempt to pleasure Ginger, to trigger her orgasm. What he didn't know was that Ginger was well versed in making herself come at will and having achieved her dream of having this super rich man's prick buried in her belly, she was already making the final adjustments with her own pelvis, that she was, even at that moment, verging on coming!
Then Ginger began to chant, "Pleeeese, Rex!" she howled sluttishly. "Pleeese, put it into me. Spit your sweet milk into me! Into my dirty pussy, into my cunt! Fuck, Rex! Fuck my cunt!"
Her legs came up, locked around his waist and she rode him mercilessly, fucking back with all her sexual instincts at her command. "I'm coming, Rex, commmmiiinnnng! I'm cumming hot and hard and fast! You, too, Rex. Fuck, oh it's marvelous, simply marvelous! Let it come, let it come. Oh, wow!"
Rex felt his cock bang the back of her cunt that last time and he groaned thickly. His prick lashed and throbbed, and his penile shaft felt like raw hamburger where her tight, clinging vaginal cylinder snugged him, sucked and milked him mercilessly. Now his balls constricted and shot hard streams of his come into her vagina, and he felt himself recoil, the back of his cock threatening to spear right out through his asshole. Again it shot forward and spat his milk into Ginger.
"You cunt," he groaned, "You sweet fucking cunt! Oh, God, God, it's good, so fucking good. You cunt! You tight little cunt!" His voice broke into a swinish whinny, "Commiiinnng in your tight little cunt, in your tight little cunt! Aaaahhhhhh!"
Then at last, both bodies lay still in the deep pile of the carpet. Only the sound of Rex's dazed, openmouthed breathing was heard. And then, after what seemed an eternity, Ginger wriggled and pushed Rex from her. Gently she took his hand and pulled him to his feet and half-led, half-followed him to the bathroom where she turned on the shower and pulled him inside into her arms.
Suddenly Rex was awake again on the table and now the doctor was gently swabbing the area of his penis. He had apparently had an ejaculation just at the memory of his first encounter with his beautiful Ginger.
Ricky, even more than the doctors surrounding Rex, was surprised by his reaction to the news as he was wheeled from the room.
It was one o'clock on Friday morning when Cassie Charles looked up to see the white-coated intern step out of the elevator onto the Hershey Coronary Care section of Manhattan Fifth Avenue Medical Center. Having worked as a unit clerk on this exclusive floor for well over a year, she knew his visit was unusual. It was long after visiting hours had ended and there had been no emergency calls. The more serious patients were being watched by the super-nurses that worked the coronary intensive care unit and the other, less serious patients were all asleep, as far as she knew, in their private rooms.
The doctor waved as he passed her desk and did not slow down to say where he was going. He stopped in front of the most exclusive room in the hospital, the Rex Hershey Room-a room used only for the most exclusive VIP-type patients. Chaz Arnold had visited Mrs. Rex Hershey every spare moment since he had brought her from the burning building on Sunday morning. It had been difficult for him to let go of her as she lapsed into unconsciousness upon arrival on the coronary floor, but the demands of his schedule forced him to turn away. Now it was Thursday morning and since she had revived on Sunday evening, the cardiac surgeons had been hovering around her like bees around honey. Not that it was difficult to understand why any normal red-blooded doctor wouldn't give his eye teeth to look at this famous beauty, but more importantly, the word was out at Manhattan Fifth to make Mrs. Hershey well! Actual fear seemed to run through the atmosphere surrounding her condition-not such fear for her life, but fear for theirs.
On Monday Chaz had not been allowed to see her at all, but he had visited the floor several times and left word that he had called. Finally, on Tuesday, since the rules permitted visitors only ten minutes every two hours from four to eight in the afternoon, he had been permitted to see her briefly. Usually such visits were restricted to family members, but apparently she had no family, and had had no visitors. When he had entered the room, she looked pale, but smiled wanly at him. His own face beamed. She was being fed intravenously, but she motioned him to draw near with her free arm and extended her hand. He took it in both of his and he could feel the urgent grasp.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Better, thanks mainly to you."
"I think you look better."
"Do you, Chaz, do you really?"
When she called him Chaz, it sounded right. His awkwardness seemed to disappear and he was at last the Chaz Arnold he dreamed of being. "Yes, I honestly do, and what's more, you're going to get better and better."
She looked tired, but he didn't want her to know that. He said a silent prayer that she would get well quickly. She closed her eyes and seemed to drift off into sleep for her grip relaxed. He stole a quick look at the chart on the end of her bed and as he scanned it, he noted that there was a diagnosis of suspected rheumatic heart condition with possible surgery scheduled. She was to remain under observation for several days before a decision would be made.
Then, as he started to leave the room, he noticed for the first time that the room was like no hospital room he had ever seen. True, there were no flowers-they were prohibited in the coronary area, but the room was carpeted in a deep-pile, fudge-colored rug and the walls were covered with a handsome, silk wall paper in taupe. One window overlooked Central Park and on the wall behind her bed was hanging what looked to him to be a modern Jackson Pollack painting that, if he knew anything about art, would have cost thousands of dollars. Then he turned toward the wall opposite the foot of her bed. There was no television set suspended from the ceiling as in most other rooms, but there was an entire wall unit with a series of buttons that when pressed caused doors to open revealing television, hi-fi, bar, storage, etc. It was fantastic. This place was designed for someone who valued creature comforts very highly.
Ginger moaned and stirred slightly, "Chaz, remember, don't forget me," and then drifted off to sleep again.
He had finished his long Wednesday to Thursday twenty-four hour call in the obstetrics-gynecology section of the hospital, and after having eaten supper in the medical staff dining room, he had decided to sneak an extra visit. If the floor nurse caught him, he would have to leave, but so far he had managed to collide with no one but the unit clerk and that made him feel lucky. He pushed the door open slowly and there she lay in bed like sleeping beauty. He stole inside and in the dim light emanating from a lamp next to her bed, her sleeping face was so beautiful he wanted to cry. He could not control himself. He bent down and very gently kissed her cheek. In her sleep a smile formed on her face and she rolled her face to the other side of the pillow. He reached down once again and started to kiss the other cheek when suddenly she opened her eyes.
"Oh, Chaz, I thought I was dreaming. How nice of you to come again." She reached out with her free arm and accidentally brushed against his white trousers which encased his huge cock.
Gently she stroked his member and said, "Then it really wasn't a dream after all. I'll get well for you, Chaz. Just don't forget me." And she drifted off again.
While Chaz was inside, the elevator door opened a second time. Cassie was really startled by the sudden influx of traffic and wished that the tough head nurse would get her ass out of the can. It was the floating security patrol man and when Cassie got a closer look at him, she didn't mind his being there at all. He was not too tall but powerfully built, and he had the most penetrating eyes.
"Hi, there," he said. "Is everything quiet here tonight?"
She pondered whether she should mention what was going on in the VIP suite and thought better of it. "Yes, it's very quiet."
He seemed to want to relax a minute and bent over the desk and looked into her face. "I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting you before?"
"No, I guess we haven't met, but I don't understand why for I've been here for over a year."
"Well," he laughed, "I guess that's not so hard to understand since I haven't been here long and this is my first seven to three shift on roving security patrol in this area. But I am mighty happy to meet you now. I'm Victor Garcia."
Victor Garcia, she thought to herself. He must be one of the many black Puerto Ricans that she had seen about the hospital. Cassie wasn't very bright, but she was bright enough to recognize another stud, particularly since she was still horny from her crazy encounter with Ed Braggert ,last Sunday morning.
"I'm Cassie Charles," she said.
"Pleased to know you, Miss Charles."
"It's Mrs. Charles," she added with emphasis. Then she thought to herself, why did I do that? I'd like to get ahold of this dude and I shouldn't risk scaring him off by letting him know I'm married. So she boldly said, "Is there a Mrs. Garcia, too?"
He looked down and laughed, "Not yet, honey, but you never know when it might happen?"
Cassie immediately perked up and raised herself to her full height and leaned back in her chair lifting her well-rounded breasts into full view under the blue uniform like banners on parade. "Well, some girl is going to be mighty lucky to get ahold of you, Victor."
"Call me, Vic. And why can't that lucky girl be you, Cassie?"
She was surprised at the swiftness of his move, but she figured she'd set herself up for it. Now she didn't know what to do. She began to stutter, "I.. .I.. . "
"Don't be nervous, honey. I'm not putting you on. What time do you finish here this morning."
"At three o'clock."
"Tell you what. Why don't you meet me when you get off and we'll have a cup of coffee before you head home?"
"A cup of coffee at three o'clock in the morning? Here? Where can you get a cup of coffee around here at that time of the morning where two people can sit and talk?"
"Leave that to old Vic, baby. Just meet me downstairs by the Mail Room at three-fifteen and I'll show you where you can get the best coffee in the hospital plus a lot of privacy. How about that?"
Cassie's cunt was feeling moist with anticipation and she answered, "I'll be there."
At that moment Dr. Arnold emerged quietly from the VIP suite. He was wearing his hospital identification badge in full view and fortunately the security guard did not question his presence on the floor. At the same time, the prim, starchy floor nurse emerged from the can and started back toward the reception desk.
Chaz breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator came at that moment. He got in and pressed "Close" as quickly as he could and started his descent. He was happy and melancholy. He had found someone to love. Whether or not she loved him back didn't matter. He had found someone to receive all his stored-up love. He kept that thought in his mind constantly as he threaded his way through the myriad corridors returning to the room he occupied in Granger Hall.
He wanted to get a good night's rest because he had a heavy day ahead tomorrow followed by a reception given by the Obstetrics-Gynecology Department for the new interns and residents at seven o'clock. He would somehow do his best to sneak in a visit to Mrs. Hershey at some point.
At three o'clock, Cassie Charles signed out in the unit clerk's log and pressed the down button on the elevator. She had not expected any action tonight so she was still wearing her uniform. She kept her hospital I.D. card pinned on to avoid any interference from security. When the doors opened she got in and pressed for the basement level where the Mail Room was located. It was nonstop to the bottom since there was little or no traffic at three o'clock in the morning except for other people coming on or going off shifts. The eerie quiet at this time always freaked her out. She was not a night person, basically, and would have preferred to work days, but in these lean times, she had little choice.
She found her way out past the pharmacy and the outpatient clinics and turned right into the mainstream corridor and headed to the end of the hallway where the Mail Room was located.
When she rounded the corner, there he stood. He certainly was an attractive bull of a man, this Garcia.
"Hi," she called softly.
"Hi, baby. Ready for that coffee now?" he said with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Lead the way, my man," she answered.
This area of the hospital seemed particularly deserted at this hour. It was completely unknown to Cassie. He took her arm and headed toward a double doorway that she had never seen before.
Just as he pushed it open, she caught a glimpse of a small sign which read "Post Mortem." As they passed through the doors, her nostrils were offended by a smell that was new to her.
"My goodness, what's that awful smell?" she asked.
"Formaldehyde," Victor answered. "You'll get used to it."
"I'm not so sure. What does Post Mortem mean, Vic?"
"C'mon, honey, are you putting me on?" At that moment they entered a large, dimly lighted room. They stopped.
"It means the morgue, honey, which is where we are."
The hair on the back of Cassie's neck stood straight up and she was struck with sudden fear.
Realizing that she was about to panic, Victor grabbed her and said, "Relax, honey. You got nothing to fear here. We are all alone-more or less-for none of these people," he said as he made a sweeping gesture to the covered bodies lying about on stretchers, "are going to disturb us."
"Maybe not, Victor, but it sure seems spooky to me."
Victor was carrying a large thermos and some styro-insulated cups. He poured two cups of what looked to be steaming hot coffee. "Here, take a swig of this and you'll feel a lot better."
Her hands were shaking as she took the proffered cup, but she sipped it as quickly as she could. It tasted like coffee all right, but it was laced with brandy. At first it sent a flame through her system, but as he stroked the back of her neck and she continued to sip the coffee, she began to feel betters
"Here, Cassie, sit down over here," Victor said motioning her onto a strangely shaped table which seemed to have corner pockets like a pool table.
He lifted her up and sat her on the table. He perched himself alongside her and resumed stroking the back of her neck.
"My, what a strange-shaped table this is. What are these side holes for?"
Victor parried the question for a moment or two trying to decide whether or not he should tell her. "If you promise you won't jump out of your bloomers, Cassie, I'll let you in on a little secret."
The coffee and brandy were beginning to calm her down and make her feel very good and Victor's strong wide hands were doing even more. "Okay, I promise."
"It's an autopsy table."
"You mean where they cut up corpses?" Cassie cried, jumping off it immediately.
"Yeah, honey, but calm down. Can't you see it's scrubbed clean? When they do the autopsies they have to have a quick exit passage for the inside parts of the body to flow through."
Cassie looked at it closely. She was weighing in her mind which was more important, having a go at Victor or getting the hell out of that place. It was all so strange. Why couldn't they meet in some normal spot?
Victor pulled Cassie toward him and enclosed his open legs around her waist while he stroked her breasts through her uniform.
"Honest, honey, I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."
"Well, okay, but God, it gives me the creeps."
He poured another cup of his special coffee and they began to relax and joke a little. He wanted her in the worst way and he knew she was hot to go, too.
He let his hands roam down toward her buttocks and reached up under her skirt. He could feel that her pussy was hot and moist. She could feel his manliness beginning to jump to attention as she leaned against his crotch. Slowly she unzipped his fly and let her hand go fishing inside to get a feel of what was in store for her. She was having difficulty trying to wiggle against his probing hands up her skirt and get his cock out at the same time, so she undid his belt buckle and then unbuttoned her uniform and let it fall to the floor.
He obliged her by standing up and letting his pants fall to the floor as he removed his shirt and tie. The belt buckle hit the floor with a clattering sound which echoed in a weird fashion in this place. She pulled his jockey shorts down and his large tool jumped out at her. It was uncircumcised and beginning to swell. He reached behind her, slipped his thumbs into the elastic of her bikini panties and pulled them to the floor. Since she wasn't wearing a brassiere, they both stood facing each other, completely naked. Suddenly she didn't feel like waiting around for all the foreplay in this spooky place. She remembered only too well what had happened last Sunday morning.
She stood there for an instant, took one long look in his eyes and bent her head down and licked the end of his cock, knocking off a drop of pre-cum. She pushed the foreskin back with her lips and sucked it into her mouth. The coffee had made her hot and she wanted to try on that dick for size. His thick, bull-like fingers were probing her pussy as she gave him head and he could feel her cunt juice was making it squishy. He leaned back against the table and she gained momentum. She was going at it rather hesitantly when he thrust his hand behind her head and pushed her head down on it. She almost gagged, but he released her head long enough for her to breath and then forced it down on his dick again. She began to get the hang of it and was now taking his cockshaft in full gulps right up to the hilt where her nose became buried in his crinkly pubic hair. She grabbed ahold of his balls with her right hand and massaged and squeezed them. With her other hand she inched her finger up the line from the scrotum toward his asshole and began to finger her way in. She kept sucking all the harder and Victor raised his legs in joy. If she keeps this up, he thought, I'll come for sure.
So he quickly pulled his cock out of her mouth and lifted her bodily on the table. He bent over her with his knees on either side of her face and his head toward her pussy and started eating her cunt with a vengeance. His dick was dangling right down toward her mouth as his face was lapping her cunt. Cassie sucked up on it and they started going at it fast and loose, cock and cunt, cunt and cock, slurping, lapping, sucking and blowing. They were both on the verge of orgasm and so they speeded up their rhythm all the more. Suddenly they could hold back no more and his cock juice began to explode into her throat while he could taste the orgasm flowing between her legs. They collapsed, panting, onto the table. The only sound in the room was their heavy breathing as they began to cool down.
All of a sudden they heard a sound like a loud thump and looked at the stretcher next to them.
Cassie screamed. Victor almost slid off the table. A cadaver had suffered a spasm of rigor mortis and had suddenly snapped into an upright position throwing back the covering sheet and revealing his blank face staring straight at them.
Victor was the first to realize what had happened, and started to laugh, but Cassie was difficult to calm down.
"Goddamit! Every time I get involved with one of you hot bucks, something peculiar always ruins it for me."
Victor laughed and resumed massaging her neck pulling her close to him. "Honey, if you think this is funny, you should have been here one night when one of the other guards wandered in here and saw this beautiful blonde babe-a corpse of course-lying on one of these stretchers. Her mouth was open like a doll. He was kind of peculiar anyway, but it got him all aroused. So when he was at full erection he decided to stick his cock in the blonde's mouth and started fucking her face. Well, rigor mortis set in there, too, and her mouth closed on his cock like a vice. He had to radio the Security Shack for help and that was some scene when the force arrived with him crying and screaming to get his dick out. They had to summon an orthodontist in the middle of the night to have her jaw opened up or risk losing his dick."
Somehow the whole thing seemed so bizarre that it cracked Cassie up and she broke into laughter leaning against Victor's hairy chest. She looked at the upright corpse and said, "Okay, mother-fucker, just keep on staring at us and we'll let you watch something that will really wake up the dead," as she jumped back on top of Victor and they started at it again. It was nearly five in the morning before all was quiet in Post Mortem.
When Chaz reached his floor in Granger Hall it was almost two o'clock in the morning. He had expected it to be very quiet and he started to tiptoe toward his room so as not to disturb anyone. Then from the room next to his he saw light pouring out from under the door. He knew it was a double room and for both occupants inside to be up at this hour was strange. He could also hear music playing and muffled sounds of raucous laughter.
He was dead tired and went on in to his room. He took a shower and turned out the lights and got in bed hoping to fall asleep right away. He was still thinking about the beautiful Mrs. Hershey. He was suddenly aware that he was bothered by the music and the noise coming from next door. It seemed to be getting louder and if he were not mistaken, he could hear a female voice in the group.
He crept toward the locked door that separated the two adjoining rooms. It was built to open into a larger suite if necessary and had a peephole in the door from his side. He slowly pushed it open and was stunned to see what was happening.
The two interns next door were balling Miss Pauline Roth, the RN from obstetrics. He couldn't believe what he was watching. Miss Roth was always so prim and proper, you would have thought she didn't even have a cunt much less know how to use it.
As Chaz watched, he could see her swirling her tongue around the tiny opening of the cock-eye of the intern named Ken, tasting the sweet spice of his excited outflow. Ken groaned coarsely, his fingers tightening in her hair at the scalding touch of her wet tongue on his bucking cock. She opened her mouth wide to accept the entire knob, moving her tongue in spiraling, progressively faster strokes. She held the base of his dick between her thumb and forefinger while she tantalizingly teased his bursting testicles with her little finger.
"Damn, that's good, Pauline," Ken groaned. "Keep sucking it like that, baby, keep sucking it with your hot, cocksucking mouth."
Now Ken adjusted further, the better to watch the bobbing, twisting head, to watch her vibrant breasts dance and sway from her chest as her mouth rode up and down his prick. He could see her lips clinging to the glans on the upstroke; he could see her puffing cheeks; he could feel the pressure of his impending spurt constricting his testicles in searing agony.
Pauline's loins ached as her need built, became murderous, suffocating. She never dreamed she could climax just from groveling before a man, just from sucking him off like this, but here she was. And she wanted to come as she knew Ken would soon be doing inside her mouth. If only they could come together! She began to suck his cock faster and faster, her head gyrating, her teeth and lips practically whistling with speed.
She was so intent on her self-sacrificing act that she didn't see Ken's roommate, Herb, take his place behind her upraised buttocks. She didn't see the crude finger sign with which Ken indicated to the crazed Herb what he must do next. Too late Pauline felt Herb's rough hands grip her hips and position them. She felt them pull her buttocks wide. Her asshole felt stretched and hot and she heard Herb suck in a thick, lustful breath.
"Christ, Pauline, your asshole's so beautiful," he gasped. "I gotta get in there!" It was at that moment that she realized with agonizing shock what was going to happen. He's going to fuck me in the ass, she screamed inwardly. He's going to put his penis in my rectum!
"No, no, no," Pauline groaned pulling off Ken's cock with a loud plop. "Don't, Herb, don't. You'll kill me, you'll tear me. Ken, tell him. Tell him to stop. I can't, I just can't."
"Just relax, baby," Ken said soothingly. "Easy does it. It may hurt a little at first, but after awhile it won't hurt anymore. You'll like it, Pauline. You'll be crazy about it."
"Crazy about it?" she choked. "You're crazy. I've never even thought of such a sick act. I'm a virgin there. I want to stay a virgin there. God, please, don't do it. He'll kill me!"
The clumsy Herb spread her cheeks cruelly and didn't even know enough to lubricate her. Instead he pressed the slimy knob of his cock into the tight, velvety purse of her anus and began to push. Pauline fought, tried to scream, but Ken grabbed her by the ears, virtually jamming her mouth down on his slippery cock, stifling her outcries. He drove his huge dick deep into her larynx, impaling her on it. Then she felt Herb draw back and batter the taut, virginal mouth of her anus. It felt like someone was shoving a red-hot poker up her. Why she had never even had her temperature taken rectally, she thought in a crazy moment of reflection.
No, no, no.. . oh, please, no, her mind screamed. Don't do this horrible thing to me.
Chaz felt his huge penis involuntarily swelling up as he adjusted his position on the other side of the door.
Pauline tried to scream, but Ken jammed his cock that much more firmly into her throat, aborting any agonized shriek. Herb clutched her hips savagely and thrust his penis deeper into her ass, into her warm, forbidden tunnel. The weight of his body pushed Pauline's head down lower on Ken's cock, and she was truly as helpless as a bird on a spit.
"Suck me, baby, suck me!" Ken was cackling. "Suck the cum right out of my cock!"
Herb was thrusting forward with great sawing thrusts, making sounds like a grunting pig as his cock invaded her asshole, pushing the rubbery, resilient flesh aside until finally, with one last lunge he sank every last inch of his penis into her anus. Both Ken and Herb kept shoving at Pauline from both ends, and pain or no pain, Chaz could see through the keyhole that Pauline was terrorized.
Then, as Pauline felt she was going out of her mind, the pain and degradation started to subside, and a soul-consuming heat leapt through her, searing her vitals, setting fire to her brain.
God, oh, God, she moaned uncomprehendingly to herself. Can this be true? I do like it! I never dreamed anything so vile could be so fantastically good. Oh, yes, Herbie-my sweet Herbie-fuck my ass! And you, Ken, rape my dirty throat. I feel so low, so mean, so dirty-so horribly filthy!
Through the peephole, Chaz was amazed by the change of expression on Pauline's face. He had slowly begun whacking on his tool. His favorite pastime now had a true visual image. He wasn't having to daydream this time.
Suddenly she was moving of her own accord, thrusting her ass back to meet Herb's ramming strokes, her throat down to swallow Ken. The frenzy mounted. Pauline wanted to scream her ecstasy, but could not. It all backed up inside her brain, exploded and ricocheted there-she thought her head would burst.
"Come, you bastards!" she railed. "Both of you at the same time. One in my mouth and one in my asshole! Flood me with your glorious sperm, choke me with it. Oh, God! I feel it myself. It's growing, growing. I'm going to come, come, come. I'm going to come like I've never come before in all my life. Empty it in me. Drown me with your hot, rich cream. With your sticky, sweet cum." All these thoughts were bursting in her brain.
"I'm cooommmiiiinggg!" Ken screamed.
Then Herb joined in. "I'm coming!" he shrieked. "I'm pumping it into her rotten ass!"
Pauline rejoiced in the double ejaculation in her mouth and ass. She screamed to herself, and she had never felt so happy. The taste, so thick and hot and delicious. The feel of it squirting into her ass.. .
She was gulping the last of Ken's cum down her throat and squeezing the last of Herb's out of her anal sphincter, when finally, with a soft moan, she fell into an ecstatic swoon.
In their dazed condition, the threesome did not hear Chaz' body fall and bump against the door as his own load exploded like a cannon. Why, oh, why, did he feel so dirty? All he wanted was the blonde, green-eyed goddess-so clean, so pure. He crawled back to his bed and fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER FIVE
Chaz awoke the next morning feeling depressed and alone. The nightmares he'd had during the night seemed in conflict with the dim memory of what he recalled had happened next door. He slowly pulled himself out of bed and headed for the shower. He turned the water on and as the hot water ran over his body and he began to soap himself, he felt better.
Thus far his cock had been his own best friend, and it didn't let him down now. As he ran the soap over his cockshaft and around his balls, it started to inflate. He was suddenly quite horny. Keeping the soap in his left hand, he started jerking himself off, resoaping himself from time to time as the water washed away the self-made lubrication. He was leaning back against the tiles and running his backside up and down as he jerked, keeping his knees bent slightly. The memory of what he had seen the guys next door do prompted him to move his left hand toward his anus. He soaped his asshole and as he did so, he pumped his cock harder and faster. He slid his forefinger of his left hand timidly into his asshole and found that it suddenly opened up very easily-quite in contrast to poor Pauline's-and then he slid two and finally three fingers up into his ass dropping the soap to the bottom of the shower stall. His right hand was moving like lightning now and in seconds his load spurted against the other wall of the stall. He bent over even further from the release of his semen. His sphincter muscle contracted and expelled his fingers from his rectum. He bent on down to pick up the bar of soap and stood for awhile in this squat position while the water poured over his head and body.
"Whew!" he muttered to himself. "What brought that on?"
Gradually his strength began to return and he stood up and finished showering. He shaved and dressed quickly for he had used up more time than usual. He only had time for a cup of coffee and a croissant before he had to head for the Obstetrical-Gynecological Clinic. He had a long, arduous day ahead doing Pap smears and he wasn't exactly looking forward to it.
When he reached the clinic, the first person he saw was Pauline Roth, all starched and crisp. Her efficiency was so well known that she had earned something of an iron maiden reputation for discipline and coldness.
Pauline looked up when he entered and approached him with a list of his appointments. "Good morning, Dr. Arnold. These are the women you will be seeing. I'm afraid it's a rather long list, but since I'm helping you I'm quite sure we'll get through it easily."
"Thank you, Miss Roth." Chaz looked at her at close range. Her starchiness seemed a little limp today and her eyes revealed a trace of haziness that was not ordinarily there.
They proceeded into the treatment room. All the while Chaz was finding it difficult to keep from laughing at the picture he had in his mind of her thrashing about the night before with his neighbors, Ken and Herbie. Seeing the suppressed smile on his face, Miss Roth looked at him strangely.
"I assume, doctor, that you have done these smears before?" she asked icily.
Yes, yes, many times, he thought to himself, but today he suddenly felt playful. "Well, now, Miss Roth, the truth is, yes, I have seen them done, but I've only been an observer. I'm not sure I understand the workings of the flip table with the stirrups and how to get the patient in the proper position."
"In that case, Dr. Arnold, I'd best call in the Chief." She was already starting for the door.
"Oh, no, Miss Roth. That won't be necessary. I know I can handle the coil, and I'm sure you can show me the workings of the table."
She looked at him closely and decided that he was sincere. His face did seem so trusting and rumor had it that he was a super brain. "All right, Dr. Arnold. I'll demonstrate."
With that she approached the apparatus. "First of all, the patient will have removed her clothing before being brought into the treatment room. So there's no problem there. You merely lead her to the table like this," she said, taking his hand as if he were leading a patient, "turn her back to the end of the table, tell her to lean backward on the table, and then lift both legs, one into each of the right and left stirrups. It's as simple as that," she said without actually lifting her feet into the stirrups. She started to get off the table.
"Oh, just a minute, Miss Roth," he said enjoying calling her "miss" even though he knew her name was Pauline only too well. "Might I ask you to indulge me just a moment more and actually show me how the female patient slides her feet into the stirrups. I simply wouldn't want any accidents to occur."
Really, she thought exasperatedly. How stupid can this brain be? Nonetheless, she resumed her position on the table and without removing her white nursing shoes or her clothing she first lifted her left leg, slid it through the circular stirrup, and then lifted the right one. With her shoes on with their thick rubber heels, she had difficulty getting them through the hole.
Observing all of this, Chaz thought how ridiculous she looked in her starchy uniform and white shoes with her legs in the air in contrast to his peephole image of her from the night before. He moved to the end of the table and placed his hands on top of her feet, securing them there momentarily. "Thank you, Miss Roth. That is quite interesting and the view from here is even more interesting."
Suddenly she realized she'd been tricked. She struggled to free her feet, but even as he lifted his hands, she found she was helplessly stuck. No matter how she squirmed, she only made matters worse.
"Now, Miss Roth," he said, slowly lowering her lacy bikini panties, which were in sharp contrast with her crisp uniform, "since the patients' clothes have been removed I assume their vaginas are free for probing." With that he pulled her panties up till they were stretched wide across the stirrups between her feet.
"How could I have been so stupid, doctor? If you make one more move, I'll scream.. . " Her voice trailed off as she noticed that Dr. Arnold had slowly opened his fly and removed his huge, enormous cock. She had never seen anything like it in her life. It sent a shudder of excitement through her. She no longer had a desire to cry out for help, but was praying that no one would enter the treatment room.
As if reading her thoughts, Chaz walked to the door, snapped the latch and returned for his lecture. "Now, Miss Roth," he said taking a tube of K-Y lubricant from a nearby table and applying it to his fully erect cockshaft, "I assume it helps to lubricate the woman's vagina before inserting the coil."
"Yes, doctor," she said almost in a trance.
"All right, we will proceed thus," he said squeezing some of the K-Y on to his fingers and approaching her cunt. He slid his fingers into the moist lips of the well-used receptacle and with a twirling motion lubricated her pussy quite well.
Miss Roth was breathing heavily but with deep relaxed exhalations. She was mesmerized by his cock. "Doctor," she said, "I know this is all very clinical, but my name is Pauline. It might help if you called me that."
"Why, thank you, Pauline, and you may call me Chaz, please," he said laughing inwardly, but giving her his most trustworthy smile. By now he had all four fingers of his right hand inside and was probing quite freely. He pulled out his fingers, carefully wiped his hands, and so as not to muss her uniform, reached under her skirt after unbuttoning the front of the uniform to her waist, and pulled her forward to the edge of the table by her bare buttocks, forcing the lips of her cunt to stretch wide open.
"Well, Pauline, brace yourself for the Chaz smear-here comes the coil." With that he inserted the large, rubbery head of his dick into her waiting lips.
Her head fell back and the breath left her as the mammoth tool started to probe inward toward her cervix. She used every ounce of control she could muster to relax. Just when she thought she would scream from the painful stretching of her vagina, he would stop and slowly back out, re-lubricate and start again. Slowly he got farther and farther inside and her buttocks were squirming on the edge of the table. He reversed tactics for awhile pulling in and out at the rather shallow depth. This made her angry, because now she wanted him to plunge ahead. She was dying to see if she could take all of it, for she certainly wanted it.
Okay, Miss Roth, Chaz thought to himself, get ready, 'cause here it comes, and with that he plunged full speed ahead right up to the hilt of his scrotum.
"Aaagggghhhh, uuuhhhhhhh, ooooooooeee-eee," gurgled Pauline as she lay stunned on the table with her eyes closed. She didn't dare move for fear she would be split in half.
Chaz waited a few beats, allowing her time to relax and surround his beautiful cock with all her soft vaginal walls. Then slowly, easily, with a technique he had never had an opportunity to practice, he started a slow, rhythmic push and pull and as he gained momentum, he noted that she was squirming on the table bucking her hips up to meet his every lunge. She was ready to come and so was he, but he wanted just a little more opportunity for exploration. He started making circular thrusts that lifted her ass off the table on the insert and banged it down on the outward pull. Bang and bump, bang and bump.
She couldn't hold back anymore. "Chaz," she cried, "I'm cominnnnnggggg." She held onto the table with both hands for dear life.
"Soooooo aaammmm IIIIII," Chaz gasped as he held onto the stirrups circling her ankles and his come showered inside her like an explosion on the fourth of July.
They both were limp. Slowly, but gently, he backed his cock like a mammoth machine out of her juicy chute. Then thoughtfully, tenderly, and carefully, he swabbed her vagina dry.
"I trust that is part of the physician's service to clean his patient after the insertion," he said jokingly to Pauline.
She laughed, "Actually, no, doctor-Chaz, it isn't. Usually you just hand the patient some tissues, tell her to remove her legs from the stirrups and to wipe herself off. However, if the patient is as weak as I am, perhaps your manner is best," she added smiling.
Resuming decorum, he said, "Thank you, Miss Roth," as he removed her shoes so she could free her feet from the stirrups. He then helped her up even helped her put her shoes on. She did seem wobbly.
"Thank you, Dr. Arnold. If I can ever give you any further clinical assistance, don't hesitate to call," she winked.
He grinned and said, "Better show the first patient in now. I think we are a little behind schedule."
After such a rambunctious start, the day seemed to drag on at a snail's pace. He never thought he would ever tire of looking at cunts, but today's batch had proved exasperating. What had been a joke in the morning about the table, now seemed a stupid chore-having to instruct so many women on how to adjust themselves on the examination table and get their feet in the stirrups properly. Then inserting the wire into the cervix to obtain the smear and trying to allay their fears that what he was doing was harmful. He was tempted at one point to tie one particularly brazen cunt into the stirrups and leave her there forever.
The only thing that made it bearable was the unrelenting efficiency of Pauline Roth, nurse extraordinaire.
He arranged a late lunch break and instead of eating he bolted for the Hershey Coronary area to make the two o'clock visiting time. When he dashed out of the elevator and headed toward her room, the Head Floor Nurse stopped him.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, but you cannot go in now." Chaz panicked, "What do you mean? Has something happened? What's wrong?"
The nurse smiled patiently and kindly and said, "No. There is nothing wrong. The top heart surgeons and consultants are in there now and all visitors are temporarily barred. You can come back at four, six or eight o'clock."
Chaz knew she meant well and was embarrassed by the awkward manner in which he had revealed his panic.
"Thank you, Miss.. . ? "
"Miss Brand, Dr. Arnold. Come back another time. I'll leave word with Mrs. Hershey that you were here again."
Strange, Chaz thought. She knows my name. Are they keeping tabs on me?
With a forlorn look on his face, he shrugged his shoulders, waved good-bye to Miss Brand, turned and left. Tears of concern almost blinded him, but he forced himself to take hold. He had work to do.
Pauline Roth noticed that something had changed in Chaz' face during his absence. She was not the type to pry, but she was concerned. During the course of the afternoon, Chaz made several mistakes, but under the careful eye of Miss Roth, they were corrected automatically.
On one break Chaz said, "I don't know what's wrong with me, Pauline. I feel depressed and unhinged. I don't want to burden you with my problems. I certainly do appreciate everything you've done for me today-everything."
She knew that Chaz was shy and that this represented an effort to understand himself and not hide his true feelings. She recognized him as a loner, and as great as the sex had been that morning, she knew inwardly that this dear, sweet, young man was not very experienced.
"Relax, Chaz. A doctor's work is difficult, but he has a personal life, too. Just try to get through the day and remember, there is the reception tonight and after all, as they have said for years, 'thank God it's Friday.' "
"Yeah," said Chaz. "That's true. There's just one hitch. I have to work tomorrow."
They both laughed and did indeed manage to get through the rest of the day. When the clinic closed, he said good-bye to Pauline, thanked her again, and said he expected to see her at the reception later on.
He had a half hour before the six o'clock visiting time, so he stopped by the medical staff lounge and relaxed with a cup of coffee.
He kept his eye on the wall clock in the lounge and kept checking his own wristwatch. He was sure the hands on both mechanisms were not moving. Finally, it was five minutes before six and he got up and headed toward the Hershey floor.
The elevators seemed to take forever to come up, and finally he stepped off onto the coronary floor. He started past the desk, headed for the VIP room. The unit clerk looked up and recognized him from previous visits.
"Doctor, may I ask where you're headed?"
She didn't seem impertinent, but he thought it strange. "I'm going to see Mrs. Hershey."
"Oh, didn't you know, doctor? Miss Hershey isn't here now."
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Has she been taken somewhere for therapy?"
"I mean, doctor," she said firmly, "she simply isn't here. Perhaps you'd like to speak to the Floor Nurse."
"Yes, I certainly would," he answered.
He waited a few minutes until the Floor Nurse came out of a private room. She was not the sweet Miss Brand he had met earlier in the day. His face must have looked wretched he was so twisted with anxiety. He had to fight to control himself to be sure he'd be able to talk.
"Can I help you, doctor?" the nurse asked.
"Yes, I'm looking for Mrs. Hershey," he said in a voice filled with strain.
"Mrs. Hershey is not here now," she said calmly walking around behind the desk. Then she looked down as if to review some charts.
"But where is she?" Chaz pleaded.
"I'm sorry, but are you a family member?"
"No, I'm Dr. Arnold on the staff here."
Suddenly the nurse remembered Miss Brand's instructions. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dr. Arnold. I didn't know you. Miss Brand said to tell you that after the conference this afternoon, the doctors decided that Mrs. Hershey was able to leave the hospital-that she would recuperate much more quickly in her own atmosphere. There was no serious deterioration, as they had suspected, and eventually she will be just fine."
Tears of relief poured out of Chaz' eyes. "Where did she go?"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Arnold, I honestly don't know. She was taken down to the main entrance to the hospital at about five-thirty. I don't know what arrangements were made. Truly, Dr. Arnold. I wish there were something more I could tell you, but believe me, the VIP room is empty."
Five-thirty, he thought to himself in disbelief. At five-thirty he had been sitting in that dumb fucking lounge having a cup of coffee when I could have run right into her had I been walking around. He hated himself.
He thanked the nurse and left the floor. He took the corridor to the main entrance on Fifth Avenue on the outside chance that she might still be there. He simply could not believe that she was nowhere to be found. He stood under the bright blue canopy for awhile, unable to believe any of this.
Then finally he started walking down Fifth Avenue toward Granger Hall. My God! What a week! First the heat wave and now this waiting in anxious agony only to find that she had vaporized, like a creature that had never existed. Her words, "don't forget me, Chaz" kept ringing in his ears. His eyes filled with tears and he thought his heart was breaking. Dumb, stupid, country boy, to fall for someone unattainable!
He broke into a blind run back to his residence hall. Instead of taking the elevator, he ran upstairs because he didn't want anyone to see him like this. As he reached the floor of his room, he slowed down. At that moment Ken and Herb from next door were just coming out.
"Hey, Chaz, aren't you coming to the reception?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah," Chaz mumbled.
"Well, you better hurry," said Herbie.
"See you there shortly, guys."
He went into his room and flopped down on his bed. He glanced at his wristwatch. It was past six-thirty now. Funny how time passed so swiftly when you weren't waiting for anyone.
"Oh, well," he said aloud to himself, "like Pauline said, 'thank God it's Friday.' "
He undressed and walked into his bathroom and showered and shaved. His wardrobe selection was limited, he realized after seeing what Ken and Herbie were wearing, but what did he care? No one cared about him. He was really feeling sorry for himself.
He sat down on the bed and lay back on the pillows staring at the ceiling. The vision of her beautiful face with her green eyes and her beautiful breasts came to him as if Sunday morning were only yesterday. Slowly his cock began to inflate itself and he was quickly aroused at the very thought of her. He couldn't resist jerking off as he grabbed his tool. "Fuck you, lady," he said aloud, "you're just a cunt like all the others." He beat his meat until it was practically raw before he lay panting with his ejaculation spread all over him. He was exhausted.
He didn't want to go to the reception, but he thought to himself, you're only two weeks old in New York, so move your ass and get into things.
He took another quick shower and got dressed in the one decent blazer and gray slacks he owned. He looked in the mirror and thought to himself, "Ole, Chaz, you don't look bad, but the lady just didn't like you. Sorry 'bout that, ole' man. Better luck next time."
He headed for the door. Just then the telephone rang. He knew he was late and started to go on out without answering it. After all, no one ever called him, but then he thought that it might be an emergency. So he turned around and went over to the phone. He picked up the instrument and in a low voice said, "Hello?"
"Hello, Chaz, I hope you didn't forget me?"
It was his dream, she hadn't forgotten him. "No, no, no, but I've been crazy! I thought you'd gone forever." He was almost crying with tears of joy.
"I'm sorry, Chaz, but it has taken me until now to locate you. I tried to have you paged, but on Friday so late, no one seemed to be able to find you. Maybe you had your beeper turned off."
His hand automatically felt his pocket. My, God, he thought. I left it in the clinic. He was so relieved, he just blubbered into the phone. "Are you all right, Mrs. Hershey?"
"Yes, Chaz, and please, please call me Ginger," she said.
"Anything you say, Ginger, is all right with me!"
"All right, then, Chaz. I have a favor to ask you.
"Name it and it's yours," he cried.
"I'm at a suite in the Regency while my apartment is being renovated and I'm all alone. Would it be too much to ask you to baby sit with me later this evening?" she cooed.
"Too much? Too much! Just tell me when and I'll be there," he yelled with happiness.
"All right. Then come about nine o'clock and we'll have supper here together. And, oh, yes, Chaz, I wouldn't have forgotten you-ever," and with that she hung up her receiver.
He held his telephone in his hand staring at it in disbelief. God worked in funny ways, but he sure made him happy tonight.
He walked out of the room and headed for the reception. Chaz Arnold was truly a happy young man.
CHAPTER SIX
As Ginger placed the receiver back on its cradle, she smiled to herself. All her life she had been a pawn used by men. Certainly with Rex she had been showered with luxuries beyond her most fantastic dreams, but hers had been an empty life and she had always searched for someone to love, and more importantly, someone who could make her feel loved. In her teen-age days in New York, sex had been a means of making money, plain and simple. Love had never entered her mind. The core hardness she had developed as a young girl, one raped in Green Cove Springs, Florida, had given her the drive to survive. Sex to her was mechanical and she felt nothing except elation at her increasing ability to satisfy her customers and to make more money. Perhaps it had been a combination of desperation and greed that drove her on, but in the two years before she met Rex, she never gave love a thought.
Then with Rex everything became like a fairytale. She enjoyed balling with Rex and she lacked for nothing materially. More than that, partially because of gratitude, she began to think she was in love with him. He had moved her into a luxury apartment and had a super decorator "do" it up for her in exquisite taste, in a contemporary feminine austerity that might have mirrored her own style if she had developed any at that point. All of this took place during her educational period. Rex had made her attend courses-in speech, music appreciation, modern education, and many other subjects, in an attempt to cram into her a lifetime's missed education. She was like a blotter, excelling in every subject she was taught as easily as she had excelled in learning the art of fucking. Through it all she grew fonder and fonder of Rex and began genuinely to believe she was in love with him. Perhaps it was a father complex, but she wasn't educated enough to understand that.
One evening she had invited Rex to her apartment for dinner. She had never cooked for him before and she wanted to show off some of her newly learned talents for cooking, hosting and being charming. Rex had provided her with a full-time maid who offered to do the cooking, but she did it all herself from scratch, making a delicious meal of Beef Stroganoff with noodles, spinach salad, and ambrosia for dessert.
She dressed very carefully wearing a long Mandarin jade green hostess gown that was slit up above the knee on both sides. Her blonde hair was freshly washed and hung loose, framing her beautiful face. As she checked herself in the mirror, she was thrilled with her image. She wanted to please Rex so much. It was certainly going to be a switch since Rex, a gourmet cook, always cooked for her or else he took her to the most fashionable restaurants in town.
The table was beautifully set and everything seemed in perfect order. Rex was right on time as usual. She was chomping at the bit to hear his praise. Instead he took it all in his stride. He was used to her beauty; moreover, he expected it. He ate the food and commented that it was satisfactory, but perhaps a bit too heavy for his palate. She simply had tried too hard, expected too much, and now she had to face the disappointment.
Later as they lay in bed following their perfunctory sexual ritual, Ginger put her arms around Rex's waist and as she toyed with the hair on his chest with one of her fingers, she said, "Rex, do you like me? I mean really like me?"
"Why, yes, honey. Of Course, I do. Don't I show you I do?"
"Yes, in material ways, you do."
Finally she let it slip out, "You see, Rex, I think I'm in love with you."
Rex had reacted like a tree struck with a thunderbolt-he was ready to split. As long as she was a prized possession, that was fine, but when the pretty objects started making possessive moves of their own, that wasn't the way Rex played the game.
Ginger knew she had somehow done the wrong thing, again, and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, Rex. I guess I'm just naive."
"Honey, you're not naive-you're just plain stupid. I don't fall in love with anyone. I care for you very much and you belong to me, but love is not in my vocabulary. It's all right if you want to love me. I expect gratitude, but I don't love anyone, except Rex!"
She was stunned. She should have known that that was the way it would always be. She was just a whore, a very expensive, prized one, but still a whore. She knew he played around with other girls, but she also knew how well off she was, so she didn't mope about the situation. She simply made a vow to herself, "Be patient, Ginger, one day you will come first."
She threw herself full tilt into acting lessons as part of her training program. She enrolled full-time at the Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre and during those all-too-brief years before she was twenty, worked like a demon. She had always thought acting was a matter of inspiration, but she soon found out that it was a craft like any other and to succeed you had to work like a sonofabitch. And work she did! She was easily one of the best-looking girls in the school, but looks weren't everything. So she worked hard in every phase: acting, dancing, singing, speech, movement, improvisations-the whole bit. She learned some make-up tricks from a professional that were genuinely wonderful. No matter how late she stayed out with Rex, she managed to drag herself to East 54th Street every day and did the required work.
During the summer break, even though she spent a lot of time with Rex on weekends and a jaunt to Paris and the south of France, she managed to continue her voice and dancing lessons sporadically to keep in shape. She also became an avid reader, particularly of biographies, plays and theatre material. In the little jerkwater town in Florida where she had been a young girl, all she had had were movies, and some early, bad television, but here in the creative center of the world, theatre was live and fascinating.
She was one of the twenty-five percent of her first year class to be asked back to the second year at the Playhouse. In the spring of her second year she got a plum part in one of the showcases that the school put on for the avowed purpose of displaying their students' talent to agents and other theatrical people. She played the young girl in Thornton Wilder's "The Long Christmas Dinner." When she made her entrance and the stage lighting hit her, an audible gasp went through the audience. Perhaps she was typecast as a pretty young thing, but she brought an added dimension of warmth, dignity and inner vitality to the part and her speaking voice had become a beautifully honed instrument. In the audience that night was Paul Morrison, a top agent from William Morris, who had guided the careers of many young people from their beginning to later stardom. He sent her his card and asked her to call him.
Rex had not seen the showcase because she told him it might inhibit her. In reality she didn't want anyone at the school to know of their relationship. It had been difficult enough to keep some of the straight young actors at arm's length because many of them were as gorgeous in their manliness as she was in her femininity. She called Paul Morrison and, true to his word, he made an appointment to see her. She dressed simply for the appointment, keeping her look low-key so that he wouldn't question her source of income. He was as impressed with her offstage as he had been in the showcase.
He sent her out on a number of interviews after arranging for her to be photographed and gather a book of pictures together. She photographed like the camera was having a romance with her. She simply wasn't afraid of looking it straight in the eye-after all, she was used to being stared at, and she treated the camera's eye just like any other.
As a result of her first interview, she landed a part on a daytime television soap opera called "Forbidden Love," in which she played the rich young daughter of a millionaire who was in love with a poor but industrious young man making his way to the top, but from her TV father's point-of-view, too far beneath her to touch her. The show caught on and she became something of a local New York celebrity, being stopped in stores and markets by many people who would ask, "Aren't you Ginger Johnson from 'Forbidden Love'? " She loved the attention.
She told Rex about it very matter-of-factly only after it had all become definite and, as usual, he took it completely in his stride. He was proud of her having done it all on her own. So long as it didn't interfere with their lifestyle, he didn't care. It even amused him that when they made the rounds of the cafe society restaurants, progressively more and more people began to recognize her and approach her for autographs. He was, after all, proud of his selection. She was his prize possession.
Then the film offers began to come in. Things were moving very quickly for Ginger. She told Rex and asked, "Would you mind?"
"Mind? No, not at all. I'll always have an eye on you-you know I travel to the West Coast at least once a week, so go ahead and give it a try."
"Thank you, Rex," she said quietly. Actually she was a bit disappointed that he had not asked her to stay home because she truly was fond of him. But when he said okay, she began to dream of having a little freedom in the California sunshine.
Motion picture work turned out to be much more demanding than she had ever dreamed. The impossibly early hours were difficult and the constant fight to keep off the many pawing hands was not easy either. Still she survived and worked like a true professional, watching everything that happened, learning every minute. She made three pictures in one year and was being groomed for stardom. She had her contracts negotiated and renegotiated by Paul Morrison and her income kept on increasing! She really didn't need the money since Rex paid all her bills, so she socked it away for a rainy day. She had her own bungalow at the swank Beverly Hills Hotel. Ricky, Rex's secretary, handled her tax problems, and when Rex himself wasn't around, Rex had Ricky constantly checking on her. She knew how loyal Ricky was to Rex, but she also knew that Ricky was gay and that he liked her. They had developed a very close bond between them.
Ricky loved .the festive atmosphere of Hollywood where so many gorgeous gays abounded and he had carte blanche entry to all the parties as Ginger's escort. Rex saw her privately when he was in Los Angeles and never made himself a public figure in the life of Ginger Johnson. Ginger did not go out with anyone other than Ricky except for an occasional studio-promoted date for a premier or benefit. She was a busy girl and she kept herself in check. She had Rex for sex and money and Ricky for laughs and parties. She was fast becoming a household word and the Hollywood word was out that she was a comer-a star on the rise.
Then the opportunity came to play the lead in an important, super-colossal, big budget film based on a best-selling novel telling of the adventurous rise of a female fashion designer in the business jungle of Seventh Avenue. Everything about the film reeked of success. And her leading man was to be Chase Ramsay, one of the best-looking studs in the entire cinema population. She was in awe at the thought of even meeting him. She could barely believe that she was in the picture playing the lead, much less with Chase Ramsay as her leading man. Talk about the frosting on the cake! She was a little afraid he wouldn't like her, but there was no backing out once the contracts were signed.-
On the first day of shooting, Ginger was to play a scene with Chase Ramsay where the eager, young clothes designer was applying for a job with his clothing firm. She had not met him before and in the rush to get through make-up, costume fittings, etc., they had only a few minutes for a quick hello, a run-through of dialogue and the blocking instructions. Both of them were pros, but Ginger was thrown off guard. He was so fantastically good looking she couldn't calm down. His photographs could never reveal how good looking he was. The words "tall, dark and handsome" had been coined for his type. His dark eyes made her knees weak. All her control was leaving her and she could feel her juices start to flow. It should have been a simple scene, but Ginger kept flubbing her lines and they didn't get one good take all morning long.
When the lunch break was called, Chase knew that Ginger was not relaxed and he took her aside and asked her to join him in his dressing room for lunch where they could talk and get to know each other. She beamed with gratitude and also with fear because her juices started to flow even faster at the thought of being alone with him for even a second. Ricky had been standing about the set that day and noticed what was taking place. He watched them disappear into Chase's portable dressing room and slowly eased himself to that area unnoticed and positioned himself in back of the trailer where he could watch what he knew would happen.
Once inside there was an awkward silence. Two lunch trays were set up, but Chase Ramsay immediately dismissed his valet. "Call me exactly ten minutes before shooting resumes and let no one, no one, disturb me. I want to talk in quiet to Miss Johnson."
As soon as the valet had left, he took her hands in his big powerful fingers and pulled her toward him. He raised her hands to his lips and as her green eyes looked up questioningly, he kissed the back of her fingers.
All he said was, "Take off everything and put your things carefully on that clothes rack. Remember, we have to go back out looking just as we did when we came in!"
She unfastened her dress, pushing it back off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She picked it up carefully and placed it on the clothes rack. She wore no bra under it. and she stood there with her ample breasts heaving with anticipation. Slowly, she removed her shoes and stockings and then she slid down her bikini panties.
Naked, she was a sight to behold. No black and white photo could do her justice, Chase thought. She stood there waiting for him and he came toward her, slowly taking off his jacket and tie and carefully placing them on another clothes rack so they wouldn't wrinkle. Then he sat down on the oversized chaise lounge and started to untie one of his shoes. Unexpectedly Ginger dropped to her knees and pulled the shoe off for him and then the sock. She repeated the action with the other shoe and sock. He enjoyed the little service and when it was over, she knelt looking up at him, waiting for him to make the next move. He rose and unbuckled his belt, then opened his pants and let them drop to the floor. He stepped out of them, and then placed them on the clothes rack with his other things. He took off his shirt almost teasingly and placed it on the rack, too. He wore no undershirt. His chest was bare, hairy and beautifully proportioned, tapering to a narrow waist and trim hips, and he knew she liked what she was seeing.
Chase shoved his briefs down and let them drop, then stepped out of them. She put them next to his shoes on the floor. He sat on the chaise, expecting her to come up and sit next to him, but instead she nestled forward, moving on her knees and placed herself between his thighs. He was surprised, but then he saw the lust and longing pouring forth from her gorgeous green eyes, devouring him adoringly.
She took his prick in her hands and he gasped at the touch of her cool, smooth fingers. She kissed the tip of his cock lightly, barely touching it with her tongue, and then drew her head back and blew a puff of warm air on it. Chase sat looking down at her with rapturous enjoyment, seeing her wonderful blonde hair, watching her mouth open and that wet pink tongue come out to flick over the tip of his cock. Her face was slightly contorted by the act of stretching her tongue out that way. In Chase's mind, that slight contortion of her features only served to make her all the more beautiful. There was no sight quite like that of a beautiful naked woman, her legs spread for you, he thought, unless it was the sight of a beautiful woman with her tongue stuck out and ready to lick your dong. He leaned back on the chaise, bracing his arms behind him and placing his palms flat against the bed's covering. Settling back that way, he prepared to enjoy a nice blow job.
And enjoy it he did. This was no novice between his legs. Ginger gave him the works, raking her soft wet tongue over the head of his cock again and again, then over the shaft, but careful not to touch the cockhead. Not yet. She was saving that for later, obviously, and Chase was content to leave the timing to her.
His cock was so stiff it was painful and throbbing, but she was just beginning. He already felt a strong tingle of pleasure running through his prick and up into his abdomen. He looked down at her, still enjoying the sight. She began licking his cockhead now, running her tongue over it lightly at first and then with a steadily increasing pressure. She ran low on spit and threw her head back and worked up a fresh supply of saliva. The noise as she did that was exciting, and he let his head fall back and looked up at the cool ceiling as her tongue continued its job of moving over that sensitive little crown. The tingle of pleasure had become more intense now, and he was beginning to gasp from time to time, his teeth gritting and his lips pursing in between the gasps. Sweat was starting to stand out on his body in separate drops.
"Uhhhhhhhh!" he grunted and gasped as her tongue continued after a short pause to work up more saliva. Then her mouth closed gently, caressingly, over the tip of his cock, covering its head. Her teeth grazed the cockhead lightly, and he grunted again. She was more careful after that, taking great care not to make him come any sooner than necessary.
Her lips closed behind the head of his prick and her tongue pressed gently against the tip of it, digging into the slot in the eye of his cock. She held everything like that for a moment, and then began to move her tongue, sliding it over the tender, sensitive skin of his cockhead. Chase bit his lip and grunted with exquisite pleasure, and she eased off, letting him regain control of himself, keeping things going for as long as possible.
While Chase got command of himself again, she let things hold and then, slowly, giving him plenty of time to figure out what she was going to do and to ready himself for the sensation, she placed her hand between his thighs and grasped his balls lightly, playing with them, petting them, squeezing them just enough to give him a thrill without causing him any pain from the pressure.
He lay all the way back on the chaise, already tired from the tension of his body, covered with a fine sheen of sweat, letting her do her best for him. She held off for awhile, letting things float along with just a mild stroking of her tongue over the head of his cock, and now and then a little movement of her hands down below on his balls. Then she slipped her mouth forward along the shaft of his cock, taking more and more of the organ into her mouth. He felt it rub against the roof of her mouth and then come to rest softly against the back of her throat. He felt her body contort briefly, and then settle down as she gained control of herself. She moved her tongue over the shaft now, up and down the length of it as far as she could manage with her mouth in that position, and then her hands did their thing, moving under his balls and up the crevice of his ass till her fingers grazed his asshole. He raised his head and looked at her for a moment in surprise, but she did not look up. The sight of her face buried in his crotch, the hair of his abdomen against her cheeks and nose made his temperature rise even higher.
He felt himself about to come and knew that they had reached the-point at which it couldn't be stopped by any skill of his, or any artful maneuver of hers. She obviously saw it coming, too, because she suddenly pulled her head back, running her lips and, very lightly, her teeth, over the length of his cock. Then she pursed her lips, pulling them in over the edges of her teeth, and began to move her body back and forth quickly, using her neck to increase the motion. It was a masterpiece of timing and coordination. Her fingers inched their way into his asshole acting like a trip switch. His cock filled with wild pleasure and his belly quivered and he just tried to hold back for as long as he could, but it was just too late now for any of that.
Her lips rubbing back and forth over the head of his cock were stroking him to a fever of pleasure, and when the orgasm hit it was like a truck running over him. It shook him, wrung him out, flattening him with its power."
His jism shot into her mouth with fire hose force, driving back into her throat. The come filled her mouth, coming out between her lips and running down her face and over the inside of his legs. His body twisted and turned and contorted with the pleasure that dominated it. He shut his eyes and let the incoherent sounds in his throat come gurgling out. His come gave one last spurt and then it was over.
He reached forward, took her under the armpits and slid her upon onto the chiase alongside him. She put her arms around him and they kissed each other passionately. He could still taste the residue of his own come in her mouth as he probed the inside. They began to roll and hug each other letting every inch of their surface flesh touch, push and squeeze. Slowly but surely his cock began to inflate again as he ran his hand over her belly and slid it down over the smooth expanse of skin to the hairy nest at the bottom of her abdomen. She smiled up at him like a lovely child and he slid his hand lower still, until his fingers extended between her legs. She squirmed involuntarily and her breathing grew quick and shallow. Chase adored this girl already.
He slid down farther until he could feel Ginger's cunt lips with his fingertips. He pushed his finger between the lips of her pussy, just a little way, feeling the dampness inside. She gasped and squirmed again, hugging his chest even closer. He let his thumb move over her clitoris just above his fingers and that got a real reaction from her. Her body shuddered and her face contorted with pleasure. Then she smiled at him again, and her hand went tight on his prick. Her pussy was starting to gush its juices, and he knew she was as ready as she had to be.
He turned onto his side, placing his free hand on her hip, his fingers pressing lightly into the soft, luxurious flesh of her ass. He pulled her onto her side facing him, and she came to him willingly. He was praying they wouldn't roll off the chaise. Her pussy, sopping wet now, pressed against him, making a damp spot on his skin. He could feel the fevered heat of her body as desire grew in her, and he knew that his own body heat was matching hers. He slid his hand down from her hip to her thigh and pulled forward. The thigh moved under the urging of his hand and her leg came up onto his body, the knee bent and the thigh and calf resting on his hip and thigh while the knee extended beyond his body. Chase thrust his leg between hers, pushing himself closer to her. His prick, as stiff as steel now, went between her legs. Before he could move a hand down and manipulate it, she slipped one of her own hands down and took the cock in it, inserting it between her cunt lips. She thrust her ass forward, driving the stiff rod deeply into her snatch.
Her breath sucked in audibly and caught, and then she made a little sound, half in jest, that said she was pleased. Suddenly Chase felt a brimming-up of emotion. He circled her waist with his arm and drew her close. She circled her arms around him and placed her hands on his buttocks. He could feel the stiffened nipples of her tits against him. She could feel his buttocks flex and tighten as her fingers probed near his asshole.
His whole body came alive with desire and with a tender emotion he hadn't expected. He held her close for a long time, not making a move, just clinging to her and enjoying the feeling of his stiff prick in her wet snatch. Then he let his hand slide down over the small of her back to her ass, cupping one cheek, and began to move her in time to his own body, now pumping and thrusting with luxurious slowness. He drove into her and pulled back, and she made a low moaning sound deep in her throat. He caught a glimpse of her face, a curious mixture at the moment of contorted pleasure and deep affection. She opened her eyes briefly, and he was certain he saw something in her expression that went deeper than the necessity of pleasing him.
"Yes, baby, yes," he purred as he nibbled her ears and kissed her briefly. Her arm went up around his neck and pulled his face against her own. The other arm remained down on his buttock.
"Oh, Chase," she murmured. "Oh, my darling Chase!"
Then her ass was moving in its own time, more quickly than his demands, making demands of its own. Their bodies were slick with sweat. His prick slid through her pussy like a torpedo with wet sounds and their bellies banged and slapped together loudly. Every feeling, every sound, seemed to excite them more, and to draw them closer together. The whole experience was a surprise to Chase. He hadn't expected more from this than a means of easing a working relationship. This was more than he had bargained for. Ginger was ecstatic that he was such a great lover.
They made it last as long as they dared. His cock slid through her with greased ease, and his body tightened inside, and he slacked off and then fucked her again. Her body seemed to respond directly to his feelings as if their nerve ends were intertwined. She reacted instantly without need of any signal from him.
Her face, flushed with pleasure and need, pressed against his. He could feel the rigidity of her nipples and the tightness of her cunt as it caressed his cock. Her hips moved in perfect counterpoint to his. But they both knew it couldn't last as long as they wished for, in addition to skipping lunch, they would have to dress and repair the damage to their make-up and be ready when the call came.
They stroked and plunged against each other, bringing themselves to a full orgasm within a second of each other. She cried out in his ear, her voice filled with pleasure and emotion, her body rigid against his, and then he grunted back at her as his cock spewed its load of come into her snatch, and their bodies were locked together like two clasped hands, rigid with the intense, unbearable pleasure.
When it was over they lay together for seconds and then rose reluctantly. Her face was incredibly lovely with the radiance of perfect fulfillment.
They swabbed themselves down as quickly as they could, for there was no time for a shower and a complete body remake-up job. Chase examined Ginger to be sure her costume was exactly the way it was when she left the set. They were both repairing their make-up when Case's valet knocked at the door and entered. He was used to quickies and observing the two untouched lunch trays, he was glad he had taken the liberty to fetch Ginger's hairdresser to make any necessary repairs.
After the lunch break, there was a noticeable change in the working relationship of Ginger and Chase. They were suddenly moving like Rogers and Astaire at their tap-happy best. The director was amazed at the change that had come over Ginger, and he got scene after scene on the first take. He only took a second take for insurance. The afternoon sped by. They didn't even feel the fatigue from the lack of not having eaten lunch.
Chase asked Ginger to dine with him that evening and she was thrilled. She knew she had to confide in Ricky what she was doing and she begged him not to tell Rex. She was so happy. She felt really alive as a woman for the first time in such a long time.
Ricky had observed their lunch encounter. He knew what was happening, but he promised he wouldn't tell a soul, especially not Rex. She threw her arms around him and hugged and kissed him.
"Oh, you are such a doll, Rick. Thanks, darling!"
But doll or not, Ricky was not stupid. Sure it was okay for Ginger to play around, but two things bothered him. He knew that Rex would find out about it eventually because Chase Ramsay was well known and, second the gay community had spread the word that the famous Chase Ramsay was double-sprocketed-a switch-hitter. So Ricky decided he'd find out for himself. That night he followed Ginger and Chase very discreetly. He waited outside the restaurant where they dined and then parked his car in the lot of the Beverly Hills Hotel and waited in his own cottage until Ginger and Chase had finished their assignation. He watched Chase leave and judging from the insecure way he walked, he knew that Chase was quite high. Ricky eased his car out of the lot and followed Chase who was weaving slightly. Slowly Ricky became aware that Chase was headed for El Toreador Drive which could mean only one thing-since he lived in Bellaire which was in the opposite direction-that Chase was headed for the Beverly Baths, the most exclusive male bath house on. the West Coast. Ricky had joined practically the minute he had stepped off the plane in Los Angeles.
Rather blatantly, Chase parked right in front and tuxedo and all, staggered up to the front door and went inside. Ricky took his time and parked some distance away and slowly made his way to the entrance allowing time for Chase to get inside, get a room and get undressed. The beefy bodybuilder at the desk recognized Ricky and whispered confidentially, "You probably won't believe this, but we've got a real live one here tonight. Chase Ramsay, the movie star. Probably means he's been out and laid some Hollywood starlet. The first thing he usually does thereafter is to come here and get himself fucked like an army was marching over him."
Ricky, amused, said "Which room is his?"
"Okay, Ricky, I know what you mean. Try 336," he said handing him the key to 337. "And good luck!"
So the big he-man likes to get his ass fucked, does he, Ricky thought to himself. Among the things that Ricky had learned in his travels was to do it all and do it all well. If they had handed out degrees, the ex-little-meesquite from Brooklyn would have graduated cum laude in the sex technique department as well as the books and brains division.
He managed to get to his room and undress quickly. He wrapped a towel around himself and was just stepping out of his room when he noticed the door to 336 was open a few inches. He took a look inside. It was dark, but as his vision cleared, he could see the great Chase Ramsay, all six feet two inches of tall black-haired, manliness lying on his stomach on the bed with a pillow wedged under his hips. As his vision cleared even further, he could discern the tube of lubricant and the popper inhaler on the tiny nightstand next to the bed.
Ricky eased into the room, shut the door and locked it behind him. Chase never once moved, but lay with his head down and his long muscular legs spread apart. Ricky leaned over and kissed him on the back of the neck. Chase flexed his buttocks and moaned lightly. Without turning around, he reached back and felt Ricky's hot, hard cock.
Obviously, Ricky would do.
Ricky reached for the vaseline and put some on his linger and moved it down to Chase's ass. As his hand brushed across his buttocks, Chase raised his ass slightly. Surprisingly enough, he found that the hole had already been lubricated. Mr. Ramsay was wasting no time. Ricky was hot now and fully erect, so he merely smeared the vaseline on his dick and climbed on board. He entered Chase Ramsay's asshole with one full lunge as if he were falling into a dark velvet room. He fucked him from every angle, making Chase beg for more, popping the amyl nitrite under both their noses and floating in time. He even screwed Chase upside down holding onto his ankles. He knew how to make it last and had Chase screaming and beggging him to never stop.
When it was over, the two of them lay there for a moment, panting. Chase turned around and faced Ricky for the first time. In the dim light, Ricky knew he had the advantage because he was not as handsome as the movie star, but he did possess a good body and he had successfully played the necessary role.
"Gee, that was great. I'd love to have you do that again."
"Anytime," replied Ricky.
"Can I call you?"
"Sure," Ricky answered. "I'll give you my number. By the way, what's your name?" certain that Chase wouldn't tell him the truth.
"Don't you know?" Chase said somewhat taken aback.
"No, why should I?" Ricky lied.
Chase's vanity was wrecked, as Ricky suspected it would be. It made Ricky all the more attractive to him. "I'm Chase Ramsay, the movie star."
"Oh," answered Ricky.
" 'Oh, is that all you can say-'oh?'" Chase was fuming, but then he calmed down. It had been too great a fuck to get pissed off because the guy didn't know who he was.
Ricky told him how to reach him at the Beverly Hills Hotel which surprised Chase even. more. What if the guy knew he had been there earlier tonight screwing a beautiful blonde movie star? He probably didn't even know who she was either.
They made a date to meet the following evening. Chase said he would call him as soon as he was free.
Ricky smiled to himself. It was a strange triangle to be in, but he relished it. Rex wouldn't allow it to continue, but for the time being it was sensational.
The days passed with ever-increasing affection between Ginger and Chase on the set. Their nightly dates made the Hollywood Reporter and eventually reached the eyes-and ears-of the great Rex himself. Ricky kept a low profile while on the set, completely out of the stars' line of vision, for he didn't want to tip Chase off to how close he was to Ginger or that he even knew her.
The picture was progressing smoothly, with each day's shooting proving to be a real pleasure for all involved because of the fireworks between the two stars. Ginger was so happy she could have burst. Ricky was tired, but amused. It was a wonder that Chase Ramsay was able to drag himself to the set everyday because of the tremendous amount of energy he expended every night. He had his personal physician standing by every morning to administer large doses of Vitamin B-12 before he started the day's work.
One night Chase had had a particularly thrilling evening with Ginger, and they had discussed marriage. After he left and headed off to Ricky's bungalow, Ginger was restless. She was in love with Chase, and she was in a quandary as to what to do, particularly about Rex. She needed to talk to Ricky. On an impulse, without bothering to call, she put on a caftan and sandals and headed for Ricky's bungalow. It seemed dark from outside, but she was sure he was in for he hadn't said he was going out anywhere. She didn't want to disturb him, so she tried the knob rather than knocking. The door was open.
She let herself in and not seeing any sign of life in the living room, headed for the bedroom. Suddenly she was aware of the fact that she heard heavy breathing and moaning emanating from not one, but two people. She was embarrassed and started to leave when suddenly she heard a voice say, "Oh, yes, baby, fuck me, that's it, that's so good!"
She would have recognized that voice anywhere for she had been listening to it for weeks. Rage surged through her body and she switched on the lights and stared at the naked figure of Chase lying there being fucked to the wall by Ricky. She was so furious she was speechless. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't blame Ricky because Chase was so handsome that anyone would have desired him, but she had never thought of him as even remotely gay. She believed that he was in love with her only and wanted to marry her. Rex's words of long ago, "Honey, you're not naive, you're just plain stupid," ran through her head over and over again.
Chase yelled, "Ginger, what are you doing here?"
"I came to see Ricky, but I didn't know I'd have to wait in line."
"You two know each other?" Chase asked in wonderment, as if he were the third party to a bad joke.
"Yes," Ricky said. "You see, Ginger, I was just protecting your investment and your future. You' wouldn't have wanted half a man, would you? You'll see, you'll come out of this smelling like a rose."
Ginger turned and fled, her body shaking, her eyes wet with tears.
Ricky couldn't have planned it more perfectly. He had already learned that Rex was flying to Hollywood and would arrive the next day, back unexpectedly from Europe. He had called Ricky and asked what the hell was going on. Ricky had been partially honest in letting Rex know that indeed Ginger was seeing a lot of Chase and that rumor had it that wedding bells might be forthcoming. That was all Rex needed. Ricky had not counted on Ginger's dramatic entrance tonight to set the whole thing into motion.
The next day when Rex appeared on the set and proposed marriage, Ginger was angry, happy, emotionally fucked up, and relieved. She didn't know what to do, but she knew that she would consent to anything to get out of this mess. And so she and Rex were married. Eventually Ginger forgave Ricky for what he had done because after all, she thought in her simple way, he was just trying to show me that old Chasey wasn't the straight arrow headed for my heart.
But that was all so long ago, Ginger now mused. The young doctor would be here at nine o'clock. She could hardly wait. She rang for her private duty nurse who was also doubling as her maid.
Meanwhile, at seven o'clock Chaz had made his way to the vacant gynecological research lab on the twentieth floor of the new Applebaum Tower. What a strange place for a party, he thought. There wasn't a solitary soul on the floor other than those inside the lab. The reception in honor of the new people in the Obstetrics-Gynecology section sounded as if it were in full swing and he was struck with fear. He was afraid of crowds and being left alone. He could no more strike up a conversation with a stranger than he could kiss a rattlesnake. He pulled himself up to his full height, took a deep breath, counted to ten and slowly exhaled as he pushed his way into the laboratory. The place had been transformed into a psychedelic delivery room with blinking lights, progressive projections of women in pregnancy and fetuses flying through the air on the walls, and acid rock music.
It was crowded. In his brief two weeks he hadn't had an opportunity to meet too many of the people in the department. The first familiar face he saw was that of Pauline Roth who was animatedly talking to Ken and Herbie, his next door neighbors. She looked up, caught his eye and motioned for him to come on over. He felt relieved and a little more relaxed.
Pauline asked, "Have you met Herb Edelman and Ken Boyer?"
Both of them looked at Pauline with amazement. They didn't think a swinger like her would know the recluse in the room next to them.
Chaz explained to Pauline, seeing the strange looks on their faces, that he knew them since they lived next door. To them he said, "Pauline assisted me in the clinic today."
Pauline felt a rush of curiosity as to whether or not Chaz knew about the previous evening's happenings, but he looked so trusting that she simply dismissed the idea.
"C'mon, Chaz-er, Dr. Arnold?"
"Chaz, by all means, Miss Roth," he smiled.
"Pauline! C'mon, Chaz. Let me get you a cup of the famous Pharmacy Punch."
Standing next to what looked like an enormous aluminum deep fry vat from Food Service was one of the registered pharmacists in his white uniform ladling out the punch into plastic glasses. The vat was smoking like a witch's brew. The pharmacist was grinningly giving it out right and left to all comers knowing how lethal it was. After all it was his own concoction and had become quite famous throughout the hospital at such parties. It was guaranteed to get people's juices rolling because it was made of grain alcohol, one hundred proof vodka and fruit juice. The smoking effect came from a large lump of dry ice that was floating on top of the pale pink mixture.
Chaz was not a drinker at all, but thinking it might help him to calm down before his big date, he decided to try it. Pauline was already into her third cup and was warm and ready for just about anything.
Chaz took a sip and almost exhaled flames. My God, he thought, to himself, if a person drank enough of this, he wouldn't have any bone marrow left the next day. He eyed the pharmacist who was staring at the bulge in his crotch and suddenly, he winked. "You know, if you served this as prescription medicine to enough patients, it would cure a lot of them-forever!"
The pharmacist laughed and made a mental note to find out who this young doctor was. Pauline and Chaz rejoined Herb and Ken who had been pondering during their absence if the two of them had made it together at some point. Knowing how quiet Chaz had been so far, they thought it highly unlikely.
Pauline wheeled him around the room and as he sipped the punch very slowly. He seemed to be whirling in ever-increasing circles. The noise and the blinking lights made it difficult to focus. Some people already felt the effects far more seriously and a great deal of soul kissing and groping was going on among groups of two, three and more. At one point he was introduced to the two Chiefs of Service of Obstetrics and Gynecology, Arnold and Irving Sabsevitz. They were twin brothers, one of whom had been married at one time, but they were now both single and sharing an apartment together. Chaz sensed from the glazed looks in their eyes and the absence of a drink in their hands, that they were on something. They were high but so controlled. He didn't know that much about drugs, but he knew they were stoned. He had read their definitive textbooks on obstetrics and gynecology in his medical school days. In his mind they had always been superheroes and to find them here as real flesh and blood, and perhaps addicts to boot, was a disappointment.
Before long the party was really swinging. The guys outnumbered the girls, mostly nurses plus a few female interns and residents. The rock music blared forth and a lot of inhibitions were being lost as the punch continued to flow and the temperature in the room continued to rise.
Chaz finished his drink, but he dared not have another for he could already feel the effect of this one. In the back of his mind he promised himself he was not going to get wrecked before meeting Ginger at nine. Pauline wanted to dance, but Chaz declined saying he was too tired. The real reason was that he didn't know how. So she grabbed Ken and Herbie and the three of them started moving and getting a lot of attention from the other dancers. All three of them were as hot again as they had been the night before. Pauline was wearing a long, white gown with a full skirt and a halter top. Ken and Herbie's jackets and ties came off and they were grinding their asses at top speed. Suddenly Pauline slumped forward and grabbed the bottom of her skirt and without losing a beat kept on dancing gradually pulling the skirt right on up slowly until it passed her hips. Much to Chaz' surprise, but to the bravos of most of the onlookers, it was revealed she was wearing nothing underneath. She held her skirt in the air and with her free hand untied the ribbon around her hair and let her hair cascade loosely down her back. Ken and Herbie were sweating and tore their shirts off while they continued to dance. The blinking lights fairly bounced off their glistening, sweaty bodies.
Pauline started doing a figure eight around Herb and Ken as she kept sinking lower and lower, bending her knees, to the ground. Ken and Herb kept making passing swipes at her cunt as she continued swinging her ass in rhythm with the music. They had now become the center of attention. Ken and Herbie's cocks were throbbing to be released from the confines of their pants. Suddenly Ken grabbed Pauline's legs, stopped her and buried his face in her pussy. She just stood with her legs straight again, gyrating to the music and waving her skirt in the air. Herbie did a knee slide to her backside and slid his tongue into her rectum and she danced even faster. Poor Herbie had a hard time keeping his tongue in her cheeks. She was hot and crazed and loving it-and so was everyone else. A cheer went up from the crowd. Obviously there was no shyness in sexual matters among people here. Soon the group began to expand and more dancers joined the action with other guys doffing their shirts and the girls matching Pauline's bravado. Chaz understood now why the party was being held in such a remote part of the hospital.
Slowly, Chaz eased himself toward the door. He knew he was getting excited and he also knew that it wouldn't have taken much persuasion to get him to stay. The last thing he saw as he looked back into the room were the two Chiefs of Service with their arms around each other smiling at all their trainees. How many babies might be conceived that night was a question that Chaz didn't even want to consider. He trusted they were all in capable hands. Only the pharmacist watched Chaz leave. After all, he was the only other sober person there!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Chaz hailed a taxi on Fifth Avenue in front of the medical center. "The Regency, Park Avenue and 61st Street," he said to the driver. It was eight forty-five now, and with luck he should be there promptly at nine o'clock. At this time of night even on Friday night, there was practically no traffic on northern Fifth Avenue. It was amazing what a difference a week had made in the weather. It was cool and comfortable now, in the upper sixties, when only the week before it had been unbearably hot. Maybe it was a forecast of a pleasant fall lying ahead. He hoped so. The drink had relaxed him and the uninhibited carryings-on had turned him on so that he was truly horny. And here he was, little Chaz Arnold on his way to meet the most beautiful creature in Manhattan.
Ginger had been in a quandary ever since she hung up the phone as to what she should wear to greet Chaz. She wanted to look her best, but yet she didn't want to overwhelm the nice young man. She sensed that, like herself, he had started out as a poor kid, and though he could probably learn to love the good life in time, he might be intimidated by too much lavishness now. She had driven her nursemaid-companion nearly to distraction because she did not seem to be satisfied with anything she put on. She had changed clothes so far at least six times and it was almost eight-forty-five and he would be arriving shortly.
Finally she called to Dora Dunlop to bring her the mint green caftan with the darker green embroidery work on it.
Dora rummaged through the closet to find the garment. She had helped remove some of Mrs. Hershey's clothes to the Regency, but even if what was here was only a small sampling of her entire wardrobe, it was far more than she could keep up with. Dora was short and plain, with cropped brown hair, almost mannish in her tailor-made pantsuit. She was immediately attracted to her employer, and would love to be her date for tonight, but she was forced to suppress herself for fear of offending. After she had picked up every discarded piece of clothing that Ginger had shucked and thrown to the floor, she held it to her nose breathing in the fabulous aroma of her body as she returned it to the closet-the body that she longed to touch herself. She knew that Mrs. Hershey was well on her way to recovery and that a little rest would make her good as new, and she hoped that somehow during that period the opportunity would present itself for a go at her employer.
She felt relieved when she found the green caftan and carried it immediately into her boudoir. "Is this what you wanted, Mrs. Hershey?" she asked holding it forward in her arms.
Ginger was standing in the middle of the bedroom in nothing but a pair of sheer nylon panties idly daubing Bal de Versailles cologne between her breasts. She was surveying her body in the full length mirror, checking to see how she was holding up after the last week. Not bad, she thought to herself, as she turned almost one hundred eighty degrees around, surveying herself from every angle. A suntan would help, but, well, that would come in time. The important thing was that she knew she was still a very appealing package. At that particular moment she caught Dora's bulging eyes staring at her practically naked body. She'd heard her come in and ask about the garment, but she hadn't looked up till now. Slowly and provocatively she turned around and in doing so took a wide-legged stance and looked straight into Dora's face.
"That's exactly what I want," she said seductively, enjoying the blush that seemed to flood from Dora's neck right up to her forehead. Ginger had encountered more than one dyke in her time, particularly in Hollywood in the costume design world. Dora wasn't too attractive, but still, you never could tell where hidden talent might pop up in a time of need.
"Would you mind helping me, Dora?" Ginger asked. "Just hold it up and slip it over my head while I try to keep my hair from getting all tangled up in the neckline."
Dora came forward with the caftan and seemed at a loss as to how to start.
Ginger said, "First, take it from the bottom, turn it almost inside out and slide my arms into the sleeves above my head." As she gave instructions she took a step forward till her naked breasts grazed Dora's extended hands. As Dora's hands touched her nipples, they automatically stiffened. Dora's face was a picture for Ginger to marvel at. Ginger, girl, you've still got it, she thought to herself.
Dora lifted the dress up and Ginger stepped even closer to Dora as she slid her arms into the caftan. Then Ginger grabbed her hair and eased it through the neck of the gown as Dora helped slide it on down her body.
Ginger couldn't resist. She put her arms on Dora's shoulders and kissed her square on the mouth. "Thank you, Dora, you've been very kind to me."
Dora gasped and was speechless.
Ginger said that if she would now bring her gold kid sandals from the dressing area and she would be about ready.
Dora found them quickly and slid to her knees to strap them one at a time around Ginger's petite ankles. If she'd had the courage she would have reached up at that very moment and kissed Ginger's snatch, and somehow she sensed that Ginger knew this, too, and wouldn't have stopped her. Oh, well, another time.
The suite that Ginger occupied was quite deluxe. It was more like an apartment, really, with an entrance foyer, a large living room, a library, a bedroom, dressing room and large luxurious bathroom, small kitchen and a maid's room and bath. Rex had been in constant touch with the hospital and he had had Ricky make all the necessary arrangements for her comfortable evacuation from the hospital to the Regency until such time as her Fifth Avenue apartment could be renovated. She had to admit it, Rex was a dear when it came to taking care of things, and Ricky was a dependable darling to carry out his every wish.
She had arranged with the catering department of the hotel to have dinner served in the library of her suite. She had ordered a simple, nourishing meal of steak, salad, scalloped potatoes and ice cream cake with zabaglione sauce for dessert. All things that one doesn't eat when one is watching his or her weight, but she had starved all week and she was sure that Chaz would appreciate simple, good food without the gourmet flair that Rex exhibited.
She checked the library and its table setting and gave last minute instructions to Dora. "Keep all four bottles of champagne ice cold and never, do you hear, never let Dr. Arnold's glass remain empty."
She went back into the bedroom and took a final survey of herself. She was pleased. Her blonde hair was soft and fell naturally about her shoulders, and the mint green caftan set off her green eyes perfectly. Yeah, Ginger girl, you certainly don't look thirty-three.
At that moment the house phone rang and a moment later Dora came in to announce that Dr. Arnold was on his way up.
"Thank you, Dora. When he arrives seat him comfortable in the living room and pour him a glass of champagne. Tell him I'll be right in and be ready with a glass of champagne for me, too, when I get there. What the hell, Dora, have one yourself. It may help you relax," she said laughing and giving her a wicked .wink.
Within minutes Ginger heard the doorbell chime and knew that Dora would get Chaz settled. She went to her vanity and took one last appraising look. She was flushed with excitement. As a last minute thought, she lifted her skirt and daubed an extra bit of Bal de Versailles on her snatch for good luck. She counted to ten, turned around and headed for the living room.
As the door opened and she swept toward her young doctor, the look of joy in his face filled her with happiness and made her beauty more spectacular than ever.
"Chaz, how very dear of you to spend your free night babysitting with me. I'll try to be a good patient, but I must admit I have been waiting anxiously to see you again and that I feel very well indeed tonight."
Chaz had managed to stagger to his feet. He was dazzled by her entrance, but he had the presence of mind to take her outstretched hands and pull her toward him. The peck on the mouth turned into a deep searching kiss and only Dora's grunt while standing by with a second glass of champagne for Ginger broke the tie.
"I can only tell you, Mrs. Hershey, that I am the one who is thrilled to be here."
"Chaz, darling. Don't ever do that again-call me Mrs. Hershey. I am Ginger to you at all times. You didn't forget me and I won't soon forget you. I'll be your best patient, your best friend and your best everything, if you'll let me," she said teasingly.
As they sat sipping the ice cold champagne, Ginger drew from Chaz his life story and was impressed how from his humble beginnings he had managed to work, study and progress so far. They were both achievers and she liked him immensely.
The dinner was delicious, and true to her instructions, Dora never let Chaz' glass grow empty. Ginger, a little high herself, could tell that the champagne was having the desired effect on Chaz. Whether she wanted to or not, she had him eating out of the palm of her hand.
"Would you serve the coffee in the living room, Dora?" she said to Dora as they finished the super-rich ice cream cake. "And, oh, please open another bottle of champagne."
Chaz weakly tried to protest, "Ginger, I think I've had my limit."
She cut him off quickly. "Nonsense, darling, this is a celebration. I'm alive, thanks to you, and now you're here. We simply must make this evening festive."
"I can't ever recall a more festive time in my life," Chaz laughed, "but remember I do have to be at work in the morning."
"Don't worry, darling. I'll see that you make it," she answered.
Sitting side by side on one of the large couches in the living room, they continued sipping champagne after "having a cup of coffee. Ginger was giggling almost girlishly and telling Chaz about some of her experiences in Hollywood. Slowly, she moved her hand to his thigh and let it slide toward the massive penis that she desired so very much. Without taking her face away from his, she started to caress it and she could feel it slowly start to inflate.
Chaz seemed distraught at first, but reached for another slug of champagne and smiled. Ginger did the same and made a silent toast to him as they both drained their glasses.
"Come, darling. It's time we got to know each other even better," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the bedroom.
Dora had dimmed the lights somewhat, turned down the bed, and placed an iced bottle of champagne and two fresh glasses on the table near the bedside.
Chaz followed Ginger into the bedroom. He was slightly unsteady on his feet, but feeling more wonderful than he had ever felt in his entire life. She helped him remove his jacket and tie, and then slowly, button by button, she undid his shirt. She leaned forward and kissed the nipples on his chest and he flinched with excitement. Next she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and let his trousers fall to the floor. He almost fell trying to get them off because he still had his shoes on, but with a little help he managed and finally his pants lay on the floor. In just his boxer shorts and his short socks, he did look like a hick, but what a hick, she thought. She reached her hands inside the waistband of his shorts and pulled them to the floor. It was like unveiling a marvelous work of art. His dong hung in all its glory, faintly erect, uncircumcised with huge balls beneath it, to a length of roughly ten inches.
It made Ginger's entire body quiver. She managed to get his socks off and eased him toward the bed. With very little coaxing, he fell back across the bed. The sight of him lying there, stretched out, was the most exciting thing she had ever seen. She eased her caftan over her head and shucked her panties. They lay in a heap on the floor. She had already taken off her sandals in the living room. She walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down.
Chaz looked panicky. The feel of the satin sheets on the bed was something that he had never experienced before in his life. For a moment he had a laughable notion that if they weren't careful, they would slide right off onto the floor. But lying there nude in his state of euphoria and watching the naked Ginger with her breasts swinging free-those same lovely breasts that he had first seen in the ambulance on the grim hot Sunday morning-he sensed that something was about to happen to him that would leave nothing in his life unchanged.
Ginger smiled down at him encouragingly, tenderly, and then reached out with both hands to touch his cock, which was standing up stiffly from his belly. She couldn't believe its size. At the touch of her hands, Chaz' cock twitched. She ran her fingers down along the outside of it lightly, tickling it and he winced. His entire body was shaking with pleasure. Ginger was more excited than she had ever been in her life, even more than during those early days with Rex when everything seemed a big adventure. It was all she could do to hide her intense excitement from Chaz. She knew she had to remain in complete control of everything this first time. After that it would be all right, she sensed.
"How do you like that?" she purred in her trained theatrical voice, not betraying any of the excitement she felt.
Chaz clenched his fists, "I love it." His balls were drawn up with excitement.
"Of course you do," Ginger said as she ran her fingers up and down the cock once more. Then she took it in both hands with a firmer grasp, holding it like that for a while. It pulsed in her palms. She felt her crotch seeping wetness, and her breathing was turning into gasping in spite of her efforts to control it. But she could see Chaz was so turned on by all of this that there seemed no danger that he would realize how hot she was.
"Now I'm going to do something you'll like even better, Chaz, honey," she breathed, and bent down to touch her lips to the tip of his dick. Chaz's body jerked spasmodically, responding to her manipulations.
She licked the head of the cock until it was sopping wet with saliva. Then she filled her drying mouth with more saliva and pushed back his foreskin, as if she were uncovering a treasure. Then she began to lick the cockshaft, running her tongue up and down it, over one side and down the other, then back up again, following any path that appealed to her imagine, and leaving drooling patterns of saliva along the flesh of his shaft.
Chaz moaned with delight. She shifted from his cock and started licking and kissing his balls, tasting the sharp tang of sweat. It was a delicious taste that excited her all the more and made her face flush. She chewed around his scrotum and then sucked one of his big balls into her mouth. His legs flew farther apart and she released the ball and sucked under the scrotum toward his asshole and then reversed her course. She made her way back to his cock again, moving her tongue over it in long, slow delicious licking motions. Chaz was a pincushion of tenseness now, and she knew she was giving him pleasures such as he had never dreamed of before.
She started to move her head up and down on the cockshaft, and he growled in time with her lip movements. She felt his fingers tangle in her hair as the pleasure became too great for him. He couldn't lie still any longer. Ginger leaned her arms across his thighs and belly and pinned him in place as she continued to suck him off. She thought her lips might split to contain it all, but she was delirious. She could feel his body slick with sweat, trembling from within and the pitching and shaking in his prick told her that he was about to come.
"Oh, GOD, Giinnnnggggeeerrr," his voice came out in a prolonged grunt and she could taste the spill of come into her mouth, all that beautiful juice from his body, stinging and spurting its way back into her throat.
"Oh, Christ," he moaned and another glob spurted into her throat.
Ginger swallowed quickly and made ready for more to come, and come it did, spilling into her mouth like a fountain. Chaz' body was as hard and tense as a drawn bow. His hips pushed up against her face, plastering his stomach and thighs against her like a mask in spite of her efforts to keep him pinned down. He spurted one last time and Ginger swallowed and then it was all over except for the last remaining stiffness in his wavering prick. She didn't release his cock for that last few seconds, hanging on for all the pleasure she could give.
Chaz lay there panting and heaving. The experience had almost knocked him out and he fought to get control of himself.
Ginger casually released him, reached over to the bedside table and filled the two glasses with champagne.
"Here, darling, this should help cool you down," she said extending the glass to him.
The two of them sipped as she watched his cock deflate to its normally huge, non-erect size. She knew now that she had found the definitive sex object for herself and if she could only hold onto his love, she would never be lonely again.
Chaz pulled himself up beside her and stroked her body and dripped champagne droplets across her tits, causing them to stand erect. Between sips he sucked and chewed on them and they stiffened noticeably. She loved the feeling and the rush of the champagne. Combined with this wonderful lovemaking it was the best tonic for an empty heart that she could imagine.
Ginger dimmed the lights even lower, knowing the champagne had given them both a powerful glow. He looked at her with that glazed look of desire she had caught long ago in Rex's eyes, once when the great man had lost his cool.
Chaz put his glass down and got between her thighs, holding them apart before she could do anything. She really didn't want to do anything just now. She no longer had to be in control. She wanted to prolong every moment of this adventure. She knew somehow that after this night, nothing would ever be the same for her again. She couldn't believe it was real-this wonderful young man with this enormous cock who obviously adored the ground she walked on.
Then he rolled over and was on top of her, his body pressing her down against the satin sheets. Ginger was a marvelous picture with her blonde hair scattered back on the pale pink sheets, her marvelous green eyes sparkling. Chaz almost gasped when he beheld her beauty. He fumbled for his cock and her hands reached to his assistance. Her body wanted it, again, again, and again.
Ginger helped him place his cock between the lips of her pussy, and as he started to press into her, she opened her legs wider. As it slid past the tight lips and through the channel, she felt a sudden jolt of pleasure that was not to be denied or resisted and she wanted to scream her exhilaration. Chaz was fucking her, his body moving up and down on top of her, his weight driving her into the mattress, and his huge enormous cock sliding through her with a slow and steady rhythm.
She had been worked up to a high pitch of desire now and she responded immediately. Her tiny body began to rock and pump along with his, fucking back as she was being fucked, moving with him in perfect unison that made them both grunt and groan with satisfaction.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close to her, feeling the stubble on his cheek brush against her own and reveling in the touch. His cock was setting off sparks of dynamite in her cunt and radiating to all the different parts of her body at once, tingling through her thighs and her stomach and up into her breasts.
She raised her legs, cradling Chaz between them, and he groaned now louder than before.
Dora had positioned herself inside the dressing room and when she heard these latest grunts and groans, she could stand it no longer. She slipped the door open and knew that in their frantic fucking they would not see her. She had three of her fingers slid up her own cunt, probing deeply and occasionally tweaking her clitoris. She dreamed that she was the mammoth dick between her mistress' legs.
Chaz' huge cock seemed to straighten and grow inside Ginger with the increase of contact. The softness of her thighs caressing his waist seemed to reach down into him in a way that the touch of her hands on the back of his neck reinforced. He accelerated his movements and grunted with fresh passion, his enormous ramrod driving through Ginger like a battering ram.
Ginger wanted to scream out like a mad woman at the almost painful way in which he shoved the huge monster through her tight channel of a cunt, but she would have died if he had stopped. She gripped him tightly, crying in his ear, and smothering his face with kisses, "Oh, Chaz, Oh, God, Chaz, yes, darling! Fuck me!"
The pleasure reached a peak and drove her into a cry of joy too great to be contained. She screamed out loud. This was the best fucking of her lifetime.
"Oh, uh, oh," Chaz's voice grunted in her ear, "Oh, God, Ginger!"
His cock seemed to tremble inside her. She felt him tighten and then he slowed his movements, as though trying to hold for awhile. He slowed down and finally stopped altogether, his cock motionless in her, a big, hard, wonderful swollen, throbbing shaft of flesh not moving, but just throbbing.
Ginger almost panicked that he was going to stop, but he began to kiss her neck and ears, and then pulling her hips up against his cock, he started to suck on her breasts and bit the tits. It shot daggers of pleasure and pain throughout her chest and up into her head. She was riding the whirlwind.
When he had regained his control, he began to fuck her again, more slowly and carefully this time, moving his cock through her in a studied and careful rhythm.
Ginger tried to match his new and more subdued rhythm, but it was impossible. Her body was too hot, too tied up in her own passion which kept accelerating in spite of her best determination to control it.
Chaz grunted, trying to convey to her to hold off, but the grunt also had the heat of passion in it. His excitement was sparked and kindled by this evidence of her own need and joy. If this is what she desires, thought Chaz, she shall have it.
He gave up and accelerated, giving her a faster rhythm to match. His cock started to tremble again. He tried vainly to slow himself down one more time, but by this time Ginger had his neck in a stranglehold and her legs were clamped around his waist, hugging and squeezing him against her. It was useless for him to try to hold for a second time.
His cock slid through her cunt with renewed vigor as he realized that this was it. He shoved and pulled and shoved and pulled until she felt as though the top of her head were going to blow off with the pressure of the heated joy that was running through her vessels and up through her scorched brain.
Her body met his blow for blow and battered him back, and she held on to him with greater force than ever, and then his come spewed into her, sending a harsh, quaking shudder of sheer ecstasy through her whole body as her orgasm erupted inside like a flood. His hips continued to buck as she shot what seemed to be an unending stream of come into her vagina.
At this moment through glistening eyes, Dora felt her own orgasm and she slid to the floor of the dressing room, completely weakened.
As they lay locked in each others arms, Ginger and Chaz gasped for breath. His cock seemed as if it would never deflate, but would remain wedged in her forever.
"Oh, darling, thank you, my darling."
"Ginger, I love you so, I love you so," he cried.
Her heart was touched. It was all so unbelievable.
Slowly he eased his cock out and slid down between her legs to lap the juice of her cunt which was overflowing the sides of her legs. He licked and slurped and drank in the delicious juice mixed with the heady aroma of her perfume.
Ginger reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her glass of champagne and poured it in little trickles over her cunt as Chaz thirstily drank it up from the moist hair of her Venus mound. Then he slid back up and took her in his arms and they locked their arms and legs together, intertwining their bodies as if they had been pieced together by Cupid himself. Then they dropped off into a dead slumber.
Dora pulled" herself up off the dressing room floor, tiptoed into the room, pulled the sheets over their naked bodies, bent over and kissed each of them on the cheek, turned out the lights and left the room.
CHAPTER EIGHT
At six o'clock the next morning Dora crept softly into Ginger's bedroom. The couple were still clinging to each other, just as she had left them the night before. Gently she shook the shoulder of Dr. Arnold. His eyes had to fight to open.
Dora pressed her fingers to lips and said, "Shhhhhh. Quiet, Dr. Arnold. You must get up and go to the hospital. Please try not to wake Mrs. Hershey."
As Chaz disengaged himself from her and slid off the opposite of the bed, Ginger stirred lazily but did not awaken. Dora placed a robe around the young doctor's shoulders and led him toward the bathroom. She thought to herself, that certainly is some cock that guy has, as she noticed it hanging practically to his knees in a distended early morning quasi-erection. , She noticed he grabbed his head under the blinding lights of the bathroom. Dora said to him, "Here, swallow this right down."
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's a Prairie Oyster, and it'll help shake away some of those champagne blues you probably have this morning," Dora answered.
Chaz swallowed the mixture of raw eggs, Lea and Perrins and Tabasco sauce, blanched slightly and belched.
"Now, jump in the shower. There is shaving equipment laid out for you, and when you finish, come into the kitchen and I'll make you some breakfast, give you some hot coffee and send you on your way to the hospital. Mrs. Hershey heeds a lot of rest after last night."
Yawning and scratching his chest, Chaz nodded his head in agreement, staggered into the shower and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. It helped a great deal. By the time he had finished shaving he was beginning to feel a lot better. He walked quietly through Ginger's bedroom and could not resist bending over and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully.
Dora had fixed him a sturdy breakfast of Virginia ham, scrambled eggs, home fried potatoes, toast, jelly and coffee. "You two had quite a bit to drink last night, didn't you?" she said chuckling to herself.
"Yes, Dora, I guess we did," Chaz answered a little embarrassed. "Mrs. Hershey-I mean Ginger-certainly is a wonderful person."
"Agreed," echoed Dora thinking back on the memories she had of the evening just past.
Chaz finished his breakfast and slipped into the clothes that Dora had laid out for him in the living room and left the apartment. It was only six-forty-five, so he had plenty of time before reporting to duty at seven-thirty. Today he was supposed to make rounds of the OB-GYN patients with the two chiefs of service, Drs. Arnold and Irving Sabsevitz, the brothers he had met the night before.
As he headed toward his room in Granger Hall to change clothes, he passed the door of Ken and Herbie. He didn't hear a sound. That's funny, he thought, because they are supposed to be on duty today, too. He decided to knock quietly to see if they were all right. For a minute or two he didn't hear any movement at all.
Then he heard a rasping voice ask, "Who is it?"
"Is that you, Ken? Herbie? It's Chaz. Are you two all right?"
A couple of minutes more passed and then the door opened a crack. Ken stuck his head out, looked around and said, "I feel like the living dead. Take a peek inside."
When Chaz looked inside all he could see were bodies in various stages of disarray scattered about the floor, bundled up in sheets, blankets, coats or nothing at all.
"We kinda' moved the party here. Things got out of hand over in the lab," Ken murmured.
The smell in the room was terrible. It was a heady mixture of dead poppers which smelled like dirty sweat socks, and stale booze and marijuana.
"You must have had some aftermath party," Chaz sniffed.
"Yeah, right," Ken answered.
"Well, I thought I'd better try to get you up so you would make it to the floor on time."
"Thanks, Chaz. We'll try, but I'm not sure we'll be able to," Ken answered.
Chaz changed into his uniform and went to the seventh floor of the Stern Pavilion where he was to start his rounds with the Drs. Sabsevitz. The floor nurse looked up when she saw him come in.
"Good morning, Doctor," she smiled prettily and winked.
"Good morning, Miss.. . ah. I don't think we've met," Chaz answered. "I'm Dr. Arnold."
She was a very pretty redhead about thirty-five years of age with a good body. "I'm Miss Kaye, the Seventh Floor Senior Nurse," and then she gave him another wink, which left him somewhat puzzled. "By the way if you need or want anything, the linen closet is right through that door," and she pointed to a door slightly up the corridor that the ordinary public person getting off the elevator would not see.
"Thanks, Miss Kaye, but what would I need.. . " he started to ask.
"Well, Dr. Arnold, you just never know what you might decide you need on this floor," and she winked lasciviously at him for the third time.
"Is anyone here yet, Miss Kaye?" Chaz asked.
"No, Doctor, you're the first to arrive, except for that new doctor that I've never seen before. He arrived about twenty minutes ago. He said his name was Dr. Sanders and flashed his identification pass so quickly that I barely had time to look at him. I guess he's on the attending staff and looking in on his private patients. Strange, though, that I didn't recognize him. I know nearly every doctor in the hospital, especially those that visit this floor," Miss Kaye said.
And indeed she did. Miss Kaye-Wanda, to those who knew her-was something of an institution on Stern Seven. She had been the senior nurse on the floor for nearly ten years. She had an overdeveloped libido and an appetite for sex that could never be satiated. She lived at home with an invalid mother and found it extremely difficult to go out. Thus, she had developed the simple expedient of on-the-job sex. She discovered there was a back entrance to the very spacious linen closet on the floor that she could enter at the same time a doctor let himself into the front entrance. She would simply excuse herself to the unit clerk, step inside, and take on the doctor standing up, or in whatever position proved expedient. She had learned a lot of tricks since she had first instituted her own "private practice," and now all a doctor had to do was visit the floor, give her a wink, and if she winked back, she would meet him in the linen closet. Some of the doctors never had private patients on the floor at all. They just came for a quickie with Wanda. However, Wanda had always limited her practice exclusively to doctors. No laymen allowed.
Chaz was unaware of all of this. He was standing idly about with his arms crossed as Miss Kaye looked him over in his starched whites. She focused on his crotch and gasped quietly.
"Is something wrong, Miss Kaye?" Chaz asked, startled by her sudden intake of breath.
"Oh, my, no, Dr. Arnold! Definitely not. I would say that there is nothing wrong with you, I mean, nothing wrong at all," she stammered. At that moment the desk phone rang and she answered it.
All the time the two of them had been talking, the unknown Dr. Sanders had been slipping from one room to another. He was not a medical doctor at all, but a very sick man who belonged in the inpatient psychiatric ward of Lieberman Center. He had managed to swipe an identification card and put on a business suit while the nurses on the floor were gathered about for morning coffee.
Unbeknownst to them he slipped off the floor and headed for Stern Seven, picking that floor at random. At every door that was marked with a female patient's name, he knocked and entered.
He would start by saying, "Good morning, Miss or Mrs. (whoever was the occupant of the room). I'm Dr. Sanders and I'm here to take a vaginal smear." He wore a stethoscope hanging around his neck, had his suit covered with a doctor's white smock, and had a pocket full of wrapped wooden spatulas used for spreading the walls of the vagina and swabs for the smear. Most women thought it was part of the hospital routine and didn't question him since he did his work so professionally. Actually, he was a voyeur who loved to look at women's pussies. Thus far this morning he was having a very good day. He had examined the vaginas of four patients, getting them to lift their legs, spread them open while he manipulated the lips of their cunts and took his smear which he carefully placed in a disposable cellophane bag.
As he left, he would say, "There, now that didn't hurt, did it? Have a good day, Mrs. Whoever." In his head he was mentally masturbating a mile a minute.
What he didn't know was that he had just left the room of Mrs. William Allen McCastle, a female patient who was in the hospital merely to have a cyst removed from her eye. When the doctor left, she dialed the floor nurse and asked, "Miss Whatever Your Name Is, can you tell me why in hell's name a doctor has to come in here on Saturday morning to wake me up for a vaginal smear when all I'm in here for is to have a cyst removed from my eye? What do you people think I have-the clap?" She sounded furious.
Miss Kaye held the phone away from her head and thought quickly, "Oh, my, we've got another kook on the floor." She spoke into the receiver as sweetly as she could. "I'm very sorry, Mrs. McCastle, the doctor must have gone into the wrong room. Please accept my apology and try to go back to sleep."
Chaz looked at Miss Kaye and knew that something was amiss.
Miss Kaye quickly dialed the psychiatric inpatient division and got the nursing supervisor on the floor. "Hello, Carla, this is Wanda on Stern Seven. Have any of your nutty pussy freaks been found missing this morning?" she asked point blank.
Chaz' jaw dropped. What did she mean?
Wanda held the receiver waiting while a scurry of activity was taking place in the psychiatry ward.
"Oh, is that so? I figured as much. It seems he's here. I'll call Security at once."
She replaced the telephone and then dialed the emergency response number for Security. "Miss Kaye, Stern Seven, on the double and bring a straight jacket." She slammed the phone down and called to Chaz, "Follow me, doctor, and don't say a word until the Security Guards get here."
They made their way down the corridor in the direction of Mrs. McCastle's room. She stopped there and counted the balance of the rooms on the floor in that direction that housed female patients. There were only four others, so she figured he had to be in one of them.
"Stay right here, Dr. Arnold. And if you see a guy in a white smock come out of a room, act natural and try to engage him in conversation, but for God's sake, don't frighten him. I'll be right back." With that she headed back toward the elevators.
Within minutes three Security guards arrived with two orderlies, a stretcher and a straight-jacket. She told the orderlies to wait there and told the guards to follow her with the straightjacket. She headed back down the hall.
Chaz was beckoning her on. "He came out of that room, just waved good morning and immediately disappeared in there," he said indicating the next room up the hall.
Miss Kaye led the way and slowly cracked open the door. The sickie was doing his thing. He was asking an elderly female patient to draw her legs up so he could take his vaginal smear and she was just about to oblige.
Miss Kaye stuck her head farther through the door and called softly, "Oh, Dr. Sanders, excuse me. There's an emergency telephone call for you."
He tried not to show his fright, but he knew he was trapped. With that Miss Kaye threw open the door and the three Security guards grabbed the now-cowering man. They had the straightjacket on him in seconds and he was led quietly back to the nursing station.
Miss Kaye calmed the elderly patient and asked that she not discuss what had just happened. "It was a simple hospital matter," she chirped, knowing full well when those old biddies started knocking heads in the community lounge later in the day, it would be all over the floor.
By the time she returned to the nursing station, the phony Dr. Sanders had been removed.
"Now, Miss Kaye, would you mind telling me what that was all about?" Chaz grinned.
Since it was early and still quiet, Miss Kaye winked at Chaz and said, "Why don't you join me in the linen closet for a cup of coffee and I'll explain the whole thing." With that she turned and headed for the back entrance.
"The linen closet?" Chaz said to himself. "The linen closet it is." Even Chaz was not so naive to miss sensing that Miss Kaye had something up her sleeve.
He pushed his way into the linen closet and found it to be pitch black inside. He felt a flurry of motion pass him, heard a lock click and then a light came on. Miss Kaye was leering at him in a most engaging way.
"See how nice and quiet it is in here, doctor? No one can disturb us." In a flash she slipped out of her nurse's uniform and slid down her panties. At thirty-five, she still had quite a shape.
Chaz was not beyond reacting physically and
Wanda could-see the bulge in his trousers starting to enlarge. She backed him to a bare wall, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and pulled his pants down to the floor. She yanked his shorts down around his ankles rapidly, because time was of the essence. In seconds she had lubricated his huge cock with some nearby vaseline. And with that she jumped up on his hips, threw one arm around his neck to hold herself up, and with her free hand shoved his cock into her ready-greased gaping cunt and locked her legs around him.
Chaz almost staggered and fell, but he bucked his hips back up and buried his dick into her to the hilt. Then he turned around so her back was to the wall. She was clinging hard to his neck with both arms now, so he slid his arms under her thighs and lifted them slightly to make it more comfortable for him and began to bang her steadily against the wall. It was over in a matter of minutes. Wanda's control of the walls of her vagina was such that she practically sucked the orgasm out of a doctor.
Chaz was left gasping for breath and weak in the knees, but Wanda hopped down as if it were part of a well-practiced routine. "Gee, that was terrific, Dr. Arnold. I hope you will pay many more visits to Stern Seven." She picked up her uniform, slid on her panties and as she left, she called over her shoulder, "Oh, by the way, there are plenty of towels to clean yourself off with. Just throw them in the hamper."
That last fuck slowed Chaz down just a bit after the previous night's heavy session. "God, what a morning so far!" he muttered.
He put his white uniform back on, snapped off the light and unlocked the door to the linen closet. He slowly opened the door and eased out into the corridor trying to appear nonchalant as he walked back toward the nursing station.
Ken and Herbie were standing there watching his every move with big grins on their faces.
"Well, I see you've found the Seventh Floor linen closet, Chaz," Herbie smirked. "For a guy we thought to be such a square and a loner, you certainly do get around."
Chaz blushed beet red. Miss Kaye was busily attending to the morning's business.
By now it was seven-forty-five and there was still no sign of the twin doctors with whom they were supposed to make their rounds.
"I wonder what could be detaining them?" asked Ken.
"Well, they did look pretty bad when they left the party last night," said Herbie.
"How the hell could you see, you were so stoned?" Ken retorted.
"I just remember their falling over some people as if they couldn't see, that's all."
At that point the elevator door opened and one of the associate directors emerged. His face looked grim.
"Good morning, Dr. Lapin," said Ken. "Good morning, gentlemen," he replied. "This morning you will make rounds with me."
"Oh," said Herbie. "Are the Drs. Sabsevitz all right?"
"Why do you ask that?" Dr. Lapin snapped angrily.
"I don't know-I guess because they aren't here-and I just wondered.. . " Herbie stammered.
Dr. Lapin's face was now filled with anguish as if he were almost fighting back tears. "Doctors, I regret to inform you that Arnold and Irving Sabsevitz were found dead this morning. That is all I can tell you now. Follow me, please, we have rounds to make."
The news came out in the afternoon papers about the brothers. At seven o'clock that morning, the doctors' maid had tried to let herself into their apartment. She always cleaned for them on that day of the week because they were up and out and at the hospital. When she unlocked the door, the safety chain was still engaged. This was rare indeed. In fact, it had never happened before. She called out to see if anyone was there and hearing no one, she started to leave, with the idea of calling them later in the day at the hospital to tell them she had been unable to get in.
But this wasn't like them, she thought. So she went downstairs and found the super. They owned the co-op they lived in and the super knew her very well for she had worked for the doctors for a number of years, first for the single brother and then the married one as well after his divorce. He went back up with her, and finding the safety chain latched and hearing no response to his shouts, decided he had best call the police.
When the police arrived, they discovered the nude bodies of the two doctors lying in the bedroom, one on the bed and one face down on the floor. A later autopsy revealed that they had died of an overdose of barbiturates and that their systems were used to a high level intake of the drugs. Apparently, they had been addicted to the drugs for a long time.
The shock of their deaths hit the hospital in its umbilical cord.
CHAPTER NINE
The time had passed so swiftly that it was difficult for Ginger to realize that it was the second week in October. The air in Central Park was cool and crisp and she felt really healthy again. She had been quite busy overseeing the renovation of her apartment. Now it was finished and she was waiting for the movers to take the things she had brought to the Regency with her. She was in a glorious mood. Rex was still in Switzerland, to the best of her knowledge, and she had continued to see the delight of her life, Chaz Arnold. They had kept their meetings very low key, even to the point of his arriving at the hotel in his medical uniform to throw any of Rex's hounds off the scent if he suspected she was up to another serious affair. They never went out in public together. For the time being, she explained, it was the best way.
"Dora, what time did you say they were due here?" she asked for the tenth time in a half hour.
"Any minute now, Mrs. Hershey. Sit down and relax. Let me make you something to drink. Take your mind off it and they'll be here before you know it," Dora said almost pleadingly. She could tell that Mrs. Hershey was getting fidgety and she knew that she did not like to be kept waiting.
"No, thanks, Dora."
At that moment the phone rang. Dora ran to answer it. It was the service manager telling her the moving people were on their way up.
"They'll be here any minute now, Mrs. Hershey. They're on their way up in the elevator. Why don't you go on up to your apartment and look things over there? I'll take care of things here," she said. She was hoping she could get her out from under foot. If she stayed it would delay things twice as much for she was so picky about making decisions.
"It's a lovely day out and the fresh air will do you a lot of good," Dora added persuasively.
Ginger thought about it for a moment and knowing that Dora was fully responsible, said, "Okay, Dora, you handle everything and I'll see you later at the apartment."
She went down in the elevator and as she waited on Park Avenue for the doorman to hail a taxi for her, she thought about Dora. She was a dyke, and she was a nurse, and honestly, she didn't need her anymore, but she obviously adored being around Ginger and right now Ginger needed all the moral support she could muster. Dora didn't seem to mind doing the practical maid-type chores, so she was happy she had decided to keep her on. She had always felt like her previous maid was nothing more than a spy for Rex.
She had done some extensive renovations to her apartment at Fifth Avenue and 70th Street. It was a spacious, twelve-room duplex that had been decorated handsomely before the fire, but was a bit antediluvian structurally. With the fire causing so much damage, she was able to have a great deal of the interior restructured. On the second floor adjacent to her master bedroom she had had a marvelous sunken Japanese tub installed with a Finnish sauna. They were luxury items, but she had some ideas that they might prove to be really sexually therapeutic as well as enjoyable. She could hardly wait to get to the apartment to take a final look. Everything had been finished, according to her designer, and the major part of her furniture installed. Now all that was left were the things, mostly clothing and other personal items, to be removed from the apartment she had occupied at the Regency.
True, she thought, she would never forget the Regency because it had been the scene of her first tryst with her new lover, Chaz, but she had good vibrations about her new home.
She also thought about making an effort to spend some time doing volunteer work at the hospital so she could be near Chaz a little more often during the day. That, too, could be done right under Rex's nose and appear harmless. She could see the gossip columns now: "Mrs. Rex Hershey, formerly Ginger Johnson of Hollywood, is now doing volunteer work at the hospital where her husband is board chairman. Her beauty alone ought to make many patients feel better." She laughed to herself. "I guess any excuse is a good one to be near the man you love."
The subject of love had never been discussed between Ginger and Chaz, and she knew it was probably a matter of how one defined love, but as far as she was concerned, she was falling more in love with him every day, and unless she were a complete idiot, he was returning her feelings measure for measure.
She had been so deep in thought she had not realized the cab had stopped in front of her building and her old doorman was holding the door open for her.
He cleared his throat, "Mrs. Hershey, ma'am, are you all right?"
She looked up startled, "Oh, Leo, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." She paid the driver quickly, feeling somewhat embarrassed, and took Leo's preferred hand as he helped her from the cab.
"Welcome back, Mrs. Hershey, for good now, I hope. You look wonderful," Leo beamed.
"Thank you, Leo. It's good to be home. I've certainly missed this place," she said, turning around slowly and looking across the street into the park. "The weather is splendid now. Much, much nicer than that disastrous Sunday morn-ing."
"It sure is, Mrs. Hershey, but you should put all that out of your pretty head now," he said cheerfully.
As she rode up in the elevator to her apartment, it seemed difficult to believe that so much had happened in seven short weeks. She removed her gloves, took her keys from her bag, inserted the key in the door, closed her eyes and made a wish.
"Oh, God, let it be true that I have found someone to love and that will love me back-please, dear God."
She turned the key and stepped inside. Her heart was filled with joy. All her expectations had been realized. At a glance everything seemed to be in place. She stepped onto the white marble foyer floor and admired the handsome pale green Chinese silk wallpaper. She continued on into the living room which was large, open and sunny, done in beige, white and chocolate with emerald green accents. It was as lovely as she had hoped.
Then she ran upstairs to the special room with the Japanese sunken pool and pushed the door open. She flicked on the silent light switch and the room was illuminated as if by sunshine. The pool was filled and ready and she let out a shriek of joy. She could hardly wait till she tried it out with Chaz.
She would get her chance that night for Chaz was expected there for dinner for their own special housewarming at eight o'clock.
Suddenly she remembered about the volunteer work and went into the bedroom and looked up the number of the Director of Volunteers at the Manhattan-Fifth Avenue Medical Center. She dialed and as she waited for an answer she looked glowingly about the room. She had it all done in antique white with mirrored walls and wall to wall furry white carpeting. It was quite a backdrop for her beauty. There was something wonderful about being in a place that was all new and fresh.
"Oh, hello, Mrs. Blumberg? This is Mrs. Rex Hershey," she said into the receiver, hearing the gasp on the other end of the line.
Immediately on guard for any request, Mrs. Blumberg said, "Why, yes, Mrs. Hershey, what can I do for you?"
"Well, Mrs. Blumberg, I suppose this is one of those instances where it's the other way around, for I want to say, what can I do for you? I mean, I'd like to work one day a week at the hospital as a volunteer and I'm wondering if you have anything that I might be qualified to do," Ginger said, realizing that with her background and experience she could probably even wait on tables in the hospital dining room.
Mrs. Blumberg was stunned. Why, she thought to herself, would Mrs. Hershey want to do this? Oh, well, she thought on, the rich are funny. Very quickly to cover herself, she said, "Well, that would be marvelous. What day would you like to work, Mrs. Hershey?"
"Would Wednesday be all right?" Ginger asked.
"Of course, that would be fine, Mrs. Hershey. We'll expect to see you then," said Mrs. Blumberg, still more excited about talking to Ginger Johnson, the ex-movie queen, than to Mrs. Rex Hershey.
"Wait, Mrs. Blumberg, please don't hang up. You haven't given me any idea of what you want me to do or in what area of the hospital I will be working."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Hershey. How about the Gift Shop? You meet a good cross-section of patients and visitors there and we truly need people with patience to serve them for some are very anxiety-ridden and too upset to make selections for themselves, and I'm certain with your exquisite taste you could help many people," she gushed.
"That's fine, Mrs. Blumberg," Ginger answered. "What time on Wednesday?"
"I'll meet you at the Gift Shop in the Stern Pavilion next Wednesday morning at ten o'clock and introduce you to the staff, and thank you, Mrs. Hershey, for generously volunteering your time," she added putting a little frosting on the cake.
Ginger replaced the telephone on its cradle and turned her thoughts to one other matter that had been on her mind. This was the week for her period and so far it had not occurred. She hadn't been taking her pills since she left the hospital and had been indulging in sex with wild abandon. In her younger days she'd had two abortions because of Rex, but that was years ago. The thought that she might be pregnant seemed impossible to her now. "I'm probably just a couple of days late," she said out loud, trying to reassure herself.
The doorbell chimed downstairs and suddenly she shook herself out of thought and ran downstairs to let Dora in through the servants' entrance so the movers could bring in the balance of her clothing and personal items.
Dora moved with great speed and efficiency and within an hour's time, everything was in its proper place.
Once again, Ginger thought what a marvel Dora was. Perhaps one day she would show her appreciation in the manner that Dora really wanted, but she didn't want to start a habit now.
"Dora, Dr. Arnold is not due here till eight o'clock. I think I'll have a snack and then take a nap. That will still leave me plenty of time to get ready. I want to christen that pool tonight, so we'll have a light supper early and then allow an hour or so before I spring the big surprise on him. Wouldn't it be hell if we both got cramps from getting in the water too soon after eating?" she said laughingly.
"Fine, Mrs. Hershey. I'll fix something for both of us in a jiffy," she said heading for the gleaming new kitchen. With all the imagine equipment, including the new microwave oven, she could probably cook a roast beef in four minutes flat.
The atmosphere in the Obstetrics-Gynecology Department of the medical center had been dismal since the death of the twin doctors. A recruitment search was on to seek replacements for them from outside the hospital, but such a procedure was a slow one and no likely candidates had been produced thus far. Everyone was working harder than ever, but without their central leadership, the department could not work at maximum efficiency or capacity. The teamwork that the two brothers had inspired was sorely missing. Stories had circulated from various medical men that this doctor or that doctor had suspected they were on drugs. Others reported that on several occasions one or both of the doctors had reported to the operating room unable to function, and had had to be replaced during surgery. In retrospect it appeared a great many people had been aware of Arnold and Irving Sabsevitz' problems, but no one had reported them to the Medical Board.
The one person who really knew the true story of the extent of their drug usage was the pharmacist who had served the punch at the wild party, for he was the one who had filled their prescriptions for dangerously large dosages of barbiturates during the last year. His lips were sealed because he was not about to risk his job, and technically he was covered because the prescriptions had been legally written. He just hoped that no one would approach him on the matter. The autopsy had given some hint of the extent of their usage and that should be enough.
Chaz had occasion that afternoon to visit Stern Seven and was surprised to find it very quiet. Wanda Kaye was not behind the desk.
"Oh," he mumbled to himself, "she's probably getting some fresh towels from the linen closet," and went on his way to get the work-up on a female patient that had been admitted to the hospital that afternoon. He had visited the floor often in recent weeks, not for the sole purpose of banging the Seventh Floor heroine but, justifiably, to see patients.
During the last ten days he had noticed a teenage boy named Roy Kingsdorf was a patient in a private room, number 727, with a severely pinched nerve in his neck. He had to wear a collar brace while the doctors tried to discover which nerve would release the pain or return his neck to normal movement. He was practically paralyzed in the neck area. There was a small trapeze rigged above his bed so that he could pull himself into an upright position. He was not allowed to be ambulatory.
In spite of the neck brace, the kid was a handsome devil, probably about eighteen years old. Apparently he came from a very rich family for his room was filled with lots of gifts and flowers, but he never seemed to have any visitors.
He always waved his boyish hello to Chaz when he passed the room. Now, on his way to see his own patient, for the first time he noticed that the door to the room was closed. That's strange, Chaz thought to himself. The kid always keeps his door open. He thought he heard some strange sounds coming from inside the room, but then he thought better of it, figuring the boy was probably watching television or resting, so he continued on down the corridor without knocking.
Wanda Kaye had had a very sparse day. She had not had one caller for "fresh linen" during her entire shift. She had noticed the kid in 727 had the kind of all-American face that made you want to hug him right away. She had found any number of reasons to stop by and see him as often as she could during his stay, and they had become great buddies. On one occasion, she had managed to give him a sponge bath for the sole purpose of taking a look at his equipment. Lying there in a prone position with his neck in a brace, he seemed so helpless, but the rest of his equipment was really something for a teen-ager.
Her relief had arrived a half-hour early that afternoon. In her agitated, horny mood, Wanda's mind moved swiftly. The kid was on her mind, and she had decided to lower her professional standards.
"Honey, would you mind doing me a great big favor by signing in early," she asked the relief nurse. "I want to spend a few minutes with that lonesome kid in Room 727 before I go home. He seems especially sad today, and I thought I'd try to cheer him up," she lied convincingly, knowing all the while it was she who needed cheering up.
Luckily the relief nurse was relatively new on Stern Seven and ignorant of Wanda's work habits, so she agreed. Wanda disappeared from the desk m seconds and missed Chaz Arnold by about five minutes. She went directly to the boy's room and, as usual, the boy gave her his big grin and a wave. "Hello, Miss Kaye. So glad to see yah."
She beamed back. "Hello, Roy, I thought I'd visit with you for a little while before I went off duty today. Would you like that?"
"I sure would, Miss Kaye. You've been so nice to me and I don't have many visitors," he answered winningly.
She closed the door, seemingly unintentionally, and locked it-against all hospital rules-with her back against the door so he didn't notice. If she were to get caught in here with the door locked, she would lose her license. Wanda moved right over to the edge of Roy's bed and sat down adjacent to his pelvis.
"Tell me, Roy, what do you plan to be when you graduate from high school?"
"Oh, my folks will probably make me study law or even try to get me into medical school. I dunno for sure. I'd like to play football and basketball and enjoy college before I have to come to terms with that decision."
Wanda had a few visions of field goals and rim shots running through her head at the moment, too.
"I think that's great, and you should take your time. Isn't that light from the lamp a little bright in your eyes?" she said as she leaned across him and flicked it out, at the same time placing her supporting hand square on his groin area for a little feel of his cock. As she pulled herself back upright, she left her hand squarely on his cock. She felt it start to become erect and looked into Roy's face. He was blushing, but it was impossible for him to move his neck, so there was nothing he could do but return her gaze, which made his cock get all the more erect.
"You like that, don't you, Roy?"
The boy didn't answer.
"Why, of course you do. You love it, don't you? Come on, don't be shy with Wanda. You want to feel my tits, Roy? You'll like that, too," she purred, like a pussy in heat.
That was more than Roy could cope with. He covered his eyes with both hands to avoid looking at her and to keep her from seeing the embarrassment on his face.
She reached back and opened the zipper on her white uniform, stood up and shrugged out of it.
In doing so, she let go of Roy's prick, and he peeked out between his fingers to see what she was doing now. The sound of her uniform falling to the floor made him jerk his hands away from his eyes. He gasped at what he saw.
Wanda knew she had him now as she reached back and unsnapped her bra, letting her large, firm breasts spill out. The bra slid down her arms toward him. Roy's cock was standing straight up under the sheets. His wonderful anxiety made Wanda all the more excited. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips, being careful not to move the head held in the neck brace. Roy's lips parted as she probed inside with her tongue. Slowly, she slipped her fingers inside the elastic of her panties and pulled them down and stood stark naked in front of him. Roy's eyes were as big as saucers. She ran her hands over his young body and carefully untied the white gown that covered the top of him and pulled it down revealing his body in its full nudity.
She was delighted to see his firmly developed, hairless chest, narrow waist and slim hips, but the sight that pleased her the most was the straining erection standing at attention in front of her.
Very carefully, Wanda climbed up on the bed and threw one leg over him, straddling him with the lips of her cunt facing him. She centered herself over him, hovering above his upright dick, getting herself comfortable before the plunge.
Roy looked at her with eyes filled with shock. He was still unable to believe what was happening and unable to do anything to prevent it.
Wanda slowly placed her hand firmly on his cock, adjusted herself slightly and stuck the head of it into the lips of her cunt. Slowly she let herself descend on it as if she were sliding down a pole. What a delicious feeling it was! She moaned with delight, threw her head back and closed her eyes to savor the sensation of this young boy inside her.
She hadn't realized just how excited she was. She started to move her body slowly, up and down, fucking in a rhythmic, leisurely fashion, letting his hammer-hard cock drag through her cunt slowly. She loved it. Her pussy was dripping with juice now, running down her legs and onto his body. She continued to move as slowly as she could, just enjoying the feeling of his dick wedged up there and the slight friction of her cunt walls clasping around his prick.
Roy moaned and tried to move his head, but the pinched nerve would not let him. His lips drooled from the excitement of watching what Wanda was doing to him. He was sweating inside the neck brace from his elevated body heat. As she moved up and down, he began to move his body slowly responding to hers, his cock moving through her in slow thrusts of pleasure.
Wanda could tell from the gurgles from his throat that they were almost in perfect rhythm together. She was amazed how well their timing matched. She was so used to being stood up against a wall and being banged by the older doctors, controlling the entire operation with little or no feeling of her own, that this was an entire new territory to her. She was certain this was the first time the kid had ever fucked anything, man, woman, or beast.
Her body was dripping sweat. She leaned forward slightly and grabbed the trapeze for balance, and started working her hips back and forth, rotating them gently, making love to his cock with every movement of her body.
"Golly, gee whiz, Miss Kaye," he mumbled, his hips moving with hers, "that's terrific."
At this response, this overt proof that she was pleasing him, Wanda felt a fresh thrill of excitement. It was all she could do to keep her rhythm slow and measured. She was filled with an intense desire to speed up her movements, to drive her ass back and forth in a hard, pounding, plunging motion. But she knew that it might be dangerous for him and that it might also be all over in a moment. It was her intention to keep this fuck going for as long as she could possibly make it last.
She hung forward at arms' length on the trapeze, and her breasts brushed across his bare chest. Her hardened, tingling nipples grazed across his smooth, hairless, sweating body. Her nurse's hat clipped pertly on top of her head had fallen off and her red hair fell down in his face. He could not move his neck to spit it out of the way. She lifted her head so that it would not get in his mouth and she could see his shining eyes looking up into her own, and his jaws clinching and unclinching with an intensity that exuded ecstasy.
She dropped her arms from the trapeze, leaning all the way forward, but not letting his dick pull out of her cunt. Lying on top of him, her tits mashed flat against his chest, she continued to work her hips back and forth, her ass clenching with each movement. She felt his hands move along the bed out of sheer excess energy, grazing her thighs lightly, and she reached down and took hold of them and brought them around to her ass. His palms cupped her buttocks firmly, eagerly. She wanted him to touch her there. Wanda pressed his hands with hers as she clinched her ass again, driving her cunt grindingly against his belly, and his hands got the message.
They began to pull and then relax alternately, drawing her to him in slow, but massive thrusts, forcing her down on him, shoving his cock deeply into her, so deep that she found herself making little yips of pure delight. Roy's cock was majestically hard, so strong, alive and manly. The pleasure was so intense in her now that it came out through her skin, making her quiver with goose-bumps, tingling and prickly all over.
"Oooohhhhh," she moaned.
"Aaaaahhhh," groaned Roy.
She was barely aware of her own sounds or his as he hips moved in and out, up and down, and back and forth, driving against his pelvis with one sopping thrust after another. Her face was a tight mask of pleasure and she gritted her teeth with the agonizing thrill of it.
This was better than anything she had experienced in her entire life. She was in a peak of pleasure so strong she couldn't think, except in the terms of the joy that this young, handsome boy was sending through her. The pleasure that emanated from her cunt, ran up into her belly and breasts and down into her thighs and wrung her out like a wet rag.
Still she kept going and so did he. She paused, straightening up a bit, back to the trapeze with her arms, waiting for both of them to calm down a bit to keep things going. She could feel his chest heaving, so heavily it almost pulled his cock out of her. But their bodies were tightly connected, and she squeezed the lips of her cunt even tighter to keep his dick locked in her cunt.
Gradually they began to fuck again, their hips moving in slow deliberate movements, just enough to strike sparks of delight in both of them. She could feel Roy's cock stiffen and harden in her at the resurgence of movement. Her pussy was throwing out floods of juice again, lubricating her and making her ready for a fresh round of fucking.
Suddenly Roy's arms went up and he grabbed the trapeze. He pulled himself up to face her and pressed his mouth against hers. Their hips began to surge and pump in quickening response as her tits slid across his sweaty chest, their tongues sucking into each other, and she found that the harder his prick rammed through her, the more she needed and wanted it. Her own body was pounding harder than ever, ramming itself down on his cock, and their rhythm was perfect. They were locked together now. Since his arms were on the trapeze, Wanda threw her arms around Roy's neck now, holding him to her tightly, clasping him hard, her breathing loud against his, his breathing hot on her neck. Her hands kneaded the muscles in his back.
And then they both went wild all at once.
Things went off inside Wanda like cannons driving her crazy. She was blinded by pleasure and she crushed her arms around his neck, snapping it tightly and twisting his head. She felt her belly slap against Roy's, heard the sound of it and felt the pleasure bite through the inner walls of her cunt with the sharpness of pain.
When the peak came, it was the greatest thrill she had ever known in her life. It seemed as if her head were blowing off the top of her neck and she was vaguely aware that someone was screaming, and it was her own voice, but she wasn't aware that she was doing it herself. It seemed far away on the other side of the thick wall of sensation that surrounded her and Roy, locking them off from the world. Her cunt throbbed with pleasure and she felt his come spurt into her like a fountain, driving into her in a surge of power that seemed to match the intensity of the feelings they were sharing.
"Ooooooohhhhh, golly, Wanda," Roy yelled as his come shot into her, and she answered him in a shrill cry of delight, hugging his neck all the harder.
"Uuuhhhhh, uuuhhhh, yeah, gods," Roy moaned and his neck fell backward. Her nails dug into his back afresh and she clutched at him, pulling his head forward, unable to get close enough to him as the pleasure drove them over the edge, and she was filled with maddening desire and fulfillment all at once, both mixed together until she wasn't sure which was which.
When it was over, she stayed on top of him, holding him in her arms, feeling his cock beginning to soften inside her. It felt wonderful there even though it was limp and useless now. She loved it.
Slowly her vision began to clear and she turned white as she realized that Roy's head was hanging backward as he gasped almost convulsively.
"Oh, my God," she thought. "What have I done? Have I broken his neck?" She pulled herself off quickly and screamed, "Roy, Roy, speak to me."
"Just a minute, Miss Kaye, I gotta' catch my breath," he said slowly lifting his head voluntarily. Then he shook his head from left to right as if he were clearing his vision. He reached up and yanked the neck brace off with both hands.
"Could this be?" Wanda said aloud.
"Could what be?" Roy said as he held his head straight up sitting up in bed, his chest still heaving in deep pants, then the thought struck him, too.
"My goodness, don't tell me," as he tried successfully moving his neck around in a full circle. Then he threw his arms around Wanda's neck and hugged and kissed her and clung to her with glee.
It was only then they heard the pounding on the locked door and Wanda recognized the voice of Dr. Arnold asking if they were all right.
"All right," she laughed. "It's a fucking miracle or vice-versa," she cried, holding the dear boy close to her. She had done more for that young boy than all the doctors and therapists in the hospital.
During dinner at Ginger's that night, Chaz recounted the story of the nurse and the boy on Stern Seven and both of them laughed. Even Dora joined in, chuckling at the irony of it all.
"I guess she crimped the right nerve, all right," Dora said.
Chaz had been greatly impressed with the beautiful job that Ginger had done on her apartment.
After dinner they lingered for what seemed an extra long time over coffee. Chaz was wondering why he hadn't been given a tour of the place. Ginger had promised Chaz a surprise, but he could not imagine what she had in store for him, but leave it to Ginger, she would think of something. Finally, after Ginger gauged that enough time had gone by for their food to have digested, she took Chaz by the hand and said, "Come along, honey."
Chaz thought it was just going to be another wonderful night in bed only this time in her new apartment. She gave him a tour of the downstairs area and then slowly they started to climb the stairs.
"I gotta' hand it to you, Ginger. It looks like a million dollars-just like you, beautiful," he said kissing her on the ear.
She prolonged the upstairs tour of the bedrooms and baths saving her own bedroom till last.
Ah-ha, Chaz thought, we're here at last.
But he was wrong again. Ginger did not head for the huge king-size bed or make any overtures about sex. She merely turned on the lights, and adjusted the dimmer switch so he could see how magnificent it was.
"What else can there be?" he said. "You'll see," she replied.
Again she took his hand and slowly led him toward the unopened door to the adjacent room. "Okay, honey, close your eyes."
He obeyed without question, and she opened the door and led him inside.
As she turned on the lights, she screamed, "Surprise!"
Chaz was astounded when he saw the new room with the Japanese pool and the sauna. "My, God, honey, it's a knockout!"
"Okay, Doctor, drop the laundry, or isn't that what you say to your patients, Doctor, honey?" she said laughingly, pulling away at his clothes.
She also peeled out of her clothes, grabbing his hand again and they ran to the edge of the pool and slipped into the warm water. It felt heavenly. So soothing and relaxing. Her hair got wet and fell in strings across her face. She pushed it back from her forehead. The sight of her with her breasts floating on top of the water, made him more excited than ever. His cock was standing straight out in front of him in spite of the warmth of the water.
"Okay, Chaz, darling, let's play submarine," she teased. "I'm the big enemy ship and you've got to torpedo and sink me."
Chaz got the picture right away and slowly sank under water, straightening out on his back, and then sliding between her spread open legs. Then he slowly surfaced shoving his cock up into her cunt.
"The enemy has arrived. Here's to Pearl Harbor," he said and they both laughed before starting into a wild, wet, thrashing fuck session.
CHAPTER TEN
The following Wednesday morning when Ginger awoke, she was feeling queasy. She went into the bathroom and threw up. She could not imagine why, but she felt better after she had done it. She took a long time soaking in her bathtub, luxuriating in the bubbles, steeped in lethargy. This was unusual for her; ordinarily a quick shower in the morning got her going right away. She finally managed to get herself dressed and then went down to the kitchen.
Seeing her come into the kitchen, Dora asked routinely, "What would you like for breakfast, Mrs. Hershey?"
The thought of food turned her stomach. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick again.
"Nothing, thanks, Dora. I'll just have a cup of tea, if you please." Then she added, "I've been eating too much lately," trying to cover up her lack of ability.
Dora sensed something was wrong. "If you're not feeling well, Mrs. Hershey, why don't you call the hospital and cancel? You can always start next week."
"No, I'll be all right just as soon as I get moving," Ginger answered half-admitting that she was not feeling well.
She arrived on time at the medical center. She was wearing a long-sleeved, beige wool dress and a cloth coat. It took Mrs. Blumberg but a fraction of a second to spot her as she came through the Stern Pavilion's main entrance revolving doors. She practically shouted across the lobby, "Why, good morning, Mrs. Hershey, how glad I am to see you!"
Ginger was somewhat taken aback by her gushy display. She didn't like calling attention to herself in public and after all, hadn't she been expected? She checked her temper, though, blaming it on her not feeling fit today, and said, "Good morning, Mrs. Blumberg. How very nice of you to come to meet me personally," returning gush for gush. "Where do I start?"
Mrs. Blumberg led her to the Gift Shop and as she introduced Ginger to everyone; she practically preened like a peacock showing off its prized feathers. Then she led her into a small office in back of the shop and handed Ginger a pink smock to wear explaining that it was meant to protect her clothing.
Ginger had noticed that everyone in the shop wore them and she hoped it might give her a hint of anonymity. But then Mrs. Blumberg handed her a nameplate reading, "Mrs. Rex Hershey."
Oh, well, Ginger thought, maybe the people that come in the shop won't recognize the name.
Shortly thereafter Mrs. Blumberg left and Ginger settled into the routine of the morning's work. She found it quite easy and the customers, not knowing who she was, were delighted with her courtesy and her helpful suggestions.
One woman about forty years old did stare at her for a long while and Ginger found herself looking down at her smock to see if she had stained it or something. Then the lady finally asked, "Could it be? You look so much like that beautiful actress who used to be in the movies, Ginger Johnson, but, well, oh, no. She wouldn't be working in a place like this. I'm so sorry." Then the lady left without buying anything.
Ginger smiled, glad that that was as far as it had gone and she didn't have to explain that she really was Ginger Johnson of the movies. About eleven-thirty, she felt strange again. Her period still had not come and she was over a week late now. Slowly it began to seep into her head what she had tried not to consider that yes, indeed, she was probably pregnant.
At her lunch break, Ginger excused herself from the other ladies. She knew the layout of the medical center fairly well having accompanied Rex there on a number of dedications, investitures and other social occasions. She found her way to the Obstetrical Out-patient Clinic. She approached the clerk, an elderly lady, and asked timidly, "Would it be possible to see a doctor now?"
The clerk was an old-timer at the hospital and sized up the beautiful woman very closely, realizing from the pink smock that she was a volunteer and seeing the name, Mrs. Rex Hershey, on her nameplate, she knew exactly who she was. The name Hershey carried a great deal of weight to people who really knew the hospital. She answered, "Of course. Won't you come this way?"
Avoiding the usual routine of asking for a clinic card, filling out forms, and making an appointment, she led Mrs. Hershey into an empty treatment room, asked her to have a seat, and then immediately disappeared. The little lady moved with great alacrity back to her desk and called the Director's office. She explained who was in the treatment room, and suggested firmly that they get one of their best obstetricians down there right away.
Then she went back to look in on Mrs. Hershey. "A doctor will be right with you, madam. Just be patient."
While she waited, Ginger prayed that she would not run into Chaz because if it were true that she was pregnant, she didn't want to impart a sense of guilt or responsibility on him that he might not be ready to accept.
Within minutes a senior staff doctor appeared and introduced himself. After examining her, he said, "Congratulations, Mrs. Hershey! You are indeed pregnant and I'm sure that Mr. Hershey will be delighted."
She had to bite her tongue from snapping out, "How the hell did you come to that conclusion?"
The doctor continued, "And by the way, you seem to be in very good health. You can continue to come here for treatment, or, if you prefer, use your own private physician."
She thanked the doctor for his courtesy and headed back toward the Gift Shop. She hadn't eaten during her break, but she wasn't hungry. She had too many things on her mind to think of food now. She tried to hide how distracted she felt for the rest of the afternoon, but she thought four o'clock would never arrive.
She couldn't wait to get out of there and get home. She was torn between the joy of knowing that she was pregnant with Chaz' baby, and wondering what on earth she would tell Rex and what he would do when she did tell him. The last time she had wanted to split, he had pulled the strings up tight and beaten her up. And in her condition she didn't want to go through that now. She wanted this child. She wanted Chaz. And she was going to have both of them, some way, somehow!
She got a taxi right outside the Stern Pavilion and they headed straight down Fifth Avenue to her building.
When the taxi stopped in front of her apartment house, Leo, the doorman, rushed forward to greet her.
"Hello, Mrs. Hershey. Why didn't you tell me Mr. Hershey was coming in?"
"What?" she said, as if someone had spat in her face. She stood frozen on the spot.
"Why, yes, Mrs. Hershey. He just went up a few minutes ago with two lady friends," Leo muttered seeing that Mrs. Hershey evidently had not expected Mr. Hershey at all.
"Shit," she said aloud, "wouldn't you know it?"
"What, Mrs. Hershey?" Leo asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Leo," she said pushing past him and running into the building. As she went up in the elevator, she said aloud to herself, "Goddammit, Rex! It's just like you to come here now and spoil everything."
She let herself into the apartment as quietly as possible. She could hear voices and laughter emanating from the library. As the door closed behind her, Dora came running out of the library followed by two giggling Oriental girls, who seemed to be delightedly poking and pushing her around.
Seeing Ginger, Dora ran toward her, swatting off the Oriental girls as if they were bothersome gnats. "My, God, Mrs. Hershey, why didn't you tell me Mr. Hershey was coming home-and with these two-Orientals?" she cried, her eyes filled with dismay.
Ginger had to control her urge to laugh for she wanted to keep her anger at the ready for Rex, but it was a funny picture. She sized up the situation rapidly. The two girls were obviously little dykes and apparently Dora didn't get the full impact yet. They were probably either new toys of Rex's or his new nursemaids from Switzerland. She dropped her coat on a chair and headed into the library.
Rex rose, drink in hand, to greet her the moment she entered the room and Ginger thought to herself, the sonofabitch looks as marvelous as ever.
"Hello, darling, surprise, surprise," he said.
"Surprise, my ass, Rex. Why on earth didn't you let me know you were coming? You know how I hate surprises like this!" Ginger snapped. "And where is Ricky?"
"Temper, temper, baby. One thing at a time. Am I interrupting something?" he smirked. "After all, I am your husband and it's been a long, long time," he answered coolly. "By the way Ricky is on vacation in the south of France with his own nursemaid-the kind of nursemaid even you would like!"
Ginger read the meaning of that little message and was determined to keep her cool. He came toward her and tried to give her a soul-searching kiss. Ginger pushed him away with disgust.
"Sit down, honey. Apparently something is going on around here that I am interrupting," Rex said. "You've never tried pushing me away like that before!"
"Rex, I don't want to sit down, but there are a few things I do want to say," she answered almost spitting the words out at him.
Rex decided to try again. "Baby, can't we let it go until we have a little tour of the bedroom?" and he tried once again to embrace her.
With that, Ginger mustered all her strength and shoved him away. He fell backward, tripped and just missed hitting his head on a sharp-edged coffee table. Rex was seething with rage now and his eyes were almost shooting out steam.
"Okay, Ginger, what is all this shit about?"
"I want a divorce, Rex. I am in love with somebody else, and I want a divorce."
Rex's rage turned to laughter which only increased Ginger's vexation.
"Divorce me, darling? Are you kidding? Haven't we played this little scene before," he chuckled recalling how he had beaten her up and put her in her place when she tried to walk out on him before. "How would you live, my darling, without me?"
"Can your conceit, Rex. I'd manage. I don't need you any more. All these years I've been stashing away the excess money you lavished on me. With Ricky's advice I invested very wisely all the money I made from motion pictures and I have a guaranteed income for life, plus the millions of dollars worth of jewelry you bought me through the years to keep me in line. Now I want my own life!"
"You know what happened the last time you tried to split," he said as he started advancing toward her.
"Keep away from me, Rex. I'm really in love this time and what's more, I'm pregnant and.. . "
At that point Rex had raised his arm ready to strike her when suddenly his color turned white, pain shot through his arm and he fell to the floor, rolling over grabbing his chest and gasping for breath. His chest felt like it was banded with steel cables and then the pressure increased till he thought that elephants were standing on his chest. He tried to speak, but he couldn't.
Ginger screamed, "Dora, come quickly."
Dora came running into the room followed by the Oriental twins, Pearl and Lotus. All three of them seemed to recognize immediately what had happened. Rex had had a severe heart attack.
Dora ran to call an ambulance and one of the Oriental girls pounded Rex's chest while the other tried mouth to mouth resuscitation to bring him around. Nothing worked.
The Oriental dykes were surprisingly strong and alert. As soon as the attendant arrived with the stretcher, they lifted him bodily in an instant onto the stretcher and picked it up themselves and commanded the attendant to get a move on.
Ginger rode with Dora, the twins and Rex to the hospital. She was stunned that she somehow recognized this as the same red ambulance from the Ace Ambulance Company that had transported her to the hospital such a short time ago.
Meanwhile at the end of the day in his routine duties at the Obstetrics Out-patient Clinic, Chaz was reviewing the charts of the patients seen that day and writing up any necessary reports. Suddenly the name Hershey jumped out at him. Only a cursory glance was needed to tell him all that had happened. Ginger was pregnant. He checked the expected date of arrival and said to himself, why hadn't she called me? Then he realized she had only found out today and perhaps she wanted to see him and tell him quietly at home. He ran for the telephone. Joy and elation flooded through him as he let the phone ring and ring.. . for nearly fifty times, but no one answered.
"That's funny," he said. "If she isn't there, I wonder where Dora is?"
The ambulance sped up Madison Avenue toward Manhattan-Fifth Avenue Medical Center. The hospital had already been alerted that their number one benefactor was on his way in and it was no slow repeat of the treatment that Mrs. Hershey and received when she had arrived unknown. All hands were standing by. It was almost like a battle station alert during wartime.
Ginger's eyes were dry. So much had happened that day, and she felt absolutely nothing. She could not concentrate on any one thing. All she could remember was the terrible sound of the ambulance siren on that Labor Day weekend when she thought she was going to die and that thought flooded her with the memory of Chaz' face bending over her.
An army of medical hands took over when the ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance driveway. Rex was immediately transferred into a waiting stretcher. Monitors were attached and he was moved swiftly to the Hershey Coronary Care Unit. The two Oriental nurses went along on either side of him. Their giggling had ceased now and they were giving orders in impeccable English to everyone within earshot. They wanted their employer to stay alive.
Dora stayed with Mrs. Hershey and walked with her as she followed at a much slower place making their way to the Intensive Care Unit. When they arrived, the head cardiologist who had examined Rex came out and told Mrs. Hershey in simple terms that Rex had suffered a massive coronary, and that there was very little hope for his survival.
Ginger just nodded her head in acknowledgement. She could see Rex attached to the wires and monitors through the glass wall from where she sat.
All this time Chaz had continued to call Ginger every five minutes. Finally, he started to leave the obstetrics clinic and was headed out the door when he ran into Pauline Roth.
"Why so glum, chum? You look like you lost your best friend," Pauline said cheerfully. "Oh, by the way, Chaz, did you hear the news?"
"What news?" Chaz asked paying little attention to what she was saying.
"They just brought in the Chairman of the Board, Rex Hershey. He's suffered a massive coronary."
Before Pauline could finish the sentence, Chaz had turned on his heel and sped in the direction of the Hershey Coronary Unit.
"So that was it!" he said to himself. "Rex had come home." He wasn't sure what had happened. All he cared about was Ginger's welfare. God, he prayed that she was all right. He thought the elevator would never arrive to take him up to the floor of the Hershey unit. Finally, it came and every time it stopped on another floor, it seemed like an eternity. It had been a long-time since his Visits there to see Ginger.
Finally the elevator reached his floor and as the doors opened, he looked to the right and left, searching for some clue as to where she might be. Then he spotted her through the inside glass windows of the Intensive Care Unit with Dora beside her with her arm around her shoulder.
He raced past the unit clerk, and Cassie Charles thought she recognized him. At that point, her telephone rang. She picked it up and when she answered, Ed Braggert's voice said, "Hello, baby, Old Red has brought me back here again. What ya' doin' later, honey bunch?"
She slammed the phone down in disbelief.
Nothing could have held Chaz back. He rushed into the Intensive Care and went straight to Ginger. He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. He rocked her back and forth, crying, "My darling, my darling, I love you so much. Why didn't you let me know?"
Ginger could have sworn that at that exact moment Rex came to, lifted his head, and looked her square in the eye. Then when she blinked and looked again, his head was back on the pillow.
The cardiologist came out immediately thereafter and said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hershey, we couldn't save your husband."
Ginger broke into sobs, not of mourning, or hysteria, but of relief as Dora and Chaz led her to the privacy of the Hershey VIP suite to rest.
The death of Rex Hershey received a great deal of publicity. Ricky flew to New York within twelve hours of receiving the news of his employer's death accompanied by his own nurse, Erick Vondergaard. He knew he would be needed to comfort Ginger and to handle the details of Rex's funeral and his final business affairs.
He soon recognized that Ginger needed no additional comfort in mourning when he met the delightful Dr. Arnold. Ricky felt no intense mourning himself, for after all the years of subservience he had paid to him, he suddenly felt free and alive.
The funeral was held the very next day and was indeed a majestic occasion. Ginger, the bereaved widow, was seated down front at Congregation Emanuel for the service with Ricky on her right. Behind them sat the three nurses, Dora, Pearl, and Lotus. Dr. Arnold in his medical whites sat to Ginger's left as if giving life-sustaining support, and Eric Vondergaard, also in white, sat to Ricky's right.
Ginger's face was heavily veiled. Chaz had confessed his love for her and had scolded her for not allowing him to be the first one to know of the baby that was on the way. In spite of Rex lying there in state, Ginger simply felt nothing. It had all been fabulous, but none of it seemed real or meaningful. But her new life did.
Following the services, Ginger was escorted to a waiting limousine where they were driven to the burial grounds of Mount Eden Cemetery in Valhalla, New York. The body was placed in a monumental crypt that had been commissioned long before Rex's death.
On the way back to Manhattan, Ricky tried to explain to Ginger the terms of Rex's will. She barely listened as he told her that her income for life would be roughly a million dollars a year. Ricky, too, had received a generous inheritance, for Rex had no immediate family. However, the biggest benefactor of all was Manhattan-Fifth Avenue Medical Center.
Ginger murmured quietly, "That's all right with me," for it was at that very medical center that she had found such happiness.
Later that night, back at her apartment after dinner, in the soothing warm water of the Japanese pool, Ginger asked, "Will I still be your number one patient when I get fat from this pregnancy?"
"You bet you will," he answered patting her stomach with his hand.
"Well, Doctor, then just remember that the patient comes first and I think it's time for the submarine to torpedo me again.. . "
With a cry of "Banzai," Chaz once again sank into the water to make the woman of his dreams happy.
