IN PSYCHOANALYSIS OF SEXUAL LIFE, VITALI NEGRI, PH.D., STATES: "it must be acknowledged that illicit union, no matter how gratifying, is accompanied by fear of detection and loss of reputation, while legitimate marriage makes mating a publicly respected procedure. In legalized marriage, love may or may not be present, and sense satisfaction may or may not be attained, but there is no secret to guard, unless it be unhappiness, no anxiety regarding public opinion ... Society, failing to lift the cloak of hypocrisy, credits such a union with moral character. Ungratified, Nature then demands compliance with her laws, in which case man's laws are often surreptitiously broken. In such a situation it is hypocrisy that claims the laws of Nature to be immoral and the laws of man to effect morality, whereas just the opposite is true." Alice Dodds found her loveless marriage so intolerable that she ended it by divorce, but once free, she found she wasn't really free at all. She turned for fulfillment to an illicit union with a teen-age boy.
CHAPTER ONE
WHEN MRS. DODDS AWAKENED IN THE morning it was just as she had feared-she still had the aching hunger in her loins.
She sat up and brushed her black hair out of her eyes, giving her pretty head a shake at the same time. With a slight show of temper she kicked the sheet off her nude body and lifted each of her breasts with her hands. She held them up, glanced down at them, sighed and let them drop back in place. There was a trickle of moisture running down her thighs, and she sighed again at the realization that she was still hot and bothered, and there was no man around to do a job on her.
"Damn," she muttered. "I can't stand it."
She placed her hand on her cunt and rubbed it slowly. A thrill ran through her and she stopped the manipulation immediately. That wasn't the way to true satisfaction; she needed a man, preferably a young one, a very young one. Mrs. Dodds was thirty-five years old, divorced, well-fixed financial ly, and thoroughly discontented. None of the men she was accustomed to sleeping with could satisfy her, certainly not the one who had been in her bed the night before, one Horace Blake, a pitiful excuse for a virile man if ever she had seen one. It came to her now about him-how he had fumbled around with her body, had suckled her breasts in the futile hope of creating a hard-on good enough to effect penetration of her in even a halfway decent manner; how he had failed to achieve anything more than a half-erection; how he had sweated and cursed himself and then tried to blame her; how he had irritated her beyond measure with his ineffectiveness and how he had finally gotten up and gone home in a rage, his rage being only about one-half of her own.
She sighed again, got up from the bed and, walking to the full-length mirror, studied her nakedness, noting how youthful her body was; it appeared to be almost that of a teen-age girl. She swore softly.
"I need a young man," she muttered, "one who knows how to please a woman."
She looked at her nudity again, noting the black expanse of hair around her cunt, the way her narrow waist sloped in, the manner in which her flat stomach seemed to quiver. She knew perfectly well why her stomach quivered; it quivered from the need to have an erect penis rammed inside her all the way. Mrs. Dodds made no bones about this.
"I swear," she muttered, "if I see a young boy walk through my yard today, I'm going to run out and drag him in and force him to take me."
Mrs. Dodds began to laugh, almost hysterically. She generally became slightly hysterical when she was deeply frustrated. She wasn't the type of worn an who would go out and buy a young man-that sort of thing left her cold-or at any rate, she was not quite ready to attempt it. She wanted a young man who wanted her. The trouble was, few young men wanted her. They were afraid of her ex-husband. The kind of men who did want her were of the type of Horace Blake and forty-odd years of age. She knew of another reason why she couldn't often attract young men, or thought she knew. Her eyes had little wrinkles around them, and no matter what she tried, she couldn't get rid of them entirely. During the summer months this did not matter too much, for all she had to do was go to a beach wearing a skimpy bikini. This worked fairly well. She sometimes managed to pick up a young man on such occasions, but now, during the fall of the year, it was another story. Young men couldn't see how delectable her body was because, of course, her clothes covered it. All the young men seemed to be aware of were those damnable wrinkles around her eyes, which made her appear too old for them. Actually, the wrinkles were scarcely noticeable, but to Mrs. Dodds they appeared to be as large as a city block.
Slowly she walked to the bathroom, put on her rubber cap and turned on the shower. The water was too hot, so she turned the cold faucet to cool it down a bit. When it was just right she stepped under the stream and stayed there for a long time in the vain hope that a portion of her hunger would go down the drain with the water.
This seldom worked and it didn't work today, but it was worth trying or at least thinking about. Mrs. Dodds could barely stand living when she was in dire need of sex and there was no one about to give it to her. Today was one of those days, one of her most passionate days, and apparently it would be an agonizing one.
She left the shower room without drying her lush, firm body and walked into the bedroom, her damp feet making prints on the carpeting. She didn't notice this, but even if she had she would have paid scant attention to it. Mrs. Dodds wasn't concerned about such trivia, and at present nearly everything was trivia to her in comparison with her need for sex.
She again examined her splendid body in the full-length mirror, noting the beads of water that clung to her pinkish skin. (Her summer tan was beginning to fade now, for it was the last week of October.) She bent her right leg and allowed that knee to cross partway in front of the other one. This, she felt, made her look terribly sexy. Looking at her body was a passion of hers; there was only one other thing she preferred looking at-a handsome young man's body, preferably if he had an erection. Oh, how she loved to see a man with an erection. There was no sight on earth to compare with it.
She went to the door, yanked it open and called, "Marie, get the hell in here!"
Her servant came running. Marie was about thirty years of age, blonde, and not a bad-looking woman, but she didn't compare with Mrs. Dodds in any favorable way. "Yes, Mrs. Dodds," she said breathlessly. "What is it?"
Mrs. Dodds looked hard at her servant. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you'd come when I called. Beat it."
Marie flushed a little. "All right, Mrs. Dodds. Are you sure you don't want me for something?"
"Beat it."
Marie left the room hastily, closing the door carefully.
Mrs. Dodds kicked at an imaginary stool. "What have I got a goddamn female servant for?" she muttered. "What I need is a male around the place working for me. I could use him for stud purposes." She had no more than uttered the words when the idea of inserting an ad in the paper for a male servant came to her. She considered it for several minutes, then shrugged it off for the time being.
Mrs. Dodds (she still thought of herself as being Mrs. Dodds, though her divorce had taken, place over a year ago) took one more look at her body and decided it was dry enough for her to get dressed. She selected her underthings with great care, and then, oddly enough, put on the first dress she found in the closet. Underthings were very important to her.
She left the room, walked to the front door and out onto the porch. Taking the mail from the box, she looked it over without interest and reentered the house. Going to the kitchen, she told Marie what she wanted for breakfast and then went to the dining room and sat down to smoke her first cigarette of the day.
Immediately, she felt moisture running down her legs from her cunt. She leaned back in her chair, not quite sure if she enjoyed this or not. "What the hell's wrong with me today?" she muttered. "I'm like a sixteen-year-old girl aching for her first piece."
The time passed and she scarcley noticed it. Marie brought her breakfast and she ate it without quite realizing it. Marie had left the room and a few minutes later returned.
"Mrs. Dodds," she said, her tone respectful.
"There's a dirty-looking tramp at the rear door. Says he's hungry and will work for his breakfast. What shall I tell him?"
Mrs. Dodds sat up straighter on her chair, a gleam in her eye that she, had she been aware of it, wouldn't have tried to conceal. "At the rear door, did you say?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dodds, at the rear door. He's very dirty."
Mrs. Dodds studied Marie's face speculatively. "How old would you say he is, Marie?"
Marie worked her mouth around as if in distaste, stopping it when she saw the hard look in her employer's eyes. "It's hard to say, Mrs. Dodds, he's so dirty. Maybe thirty or so, maybe younger."
"Let him in the kitchen. Make him wash up first. Give him a good breakfast. I'll come and take a look at him later."
Marie worked her mouth around again. "By ... er ... washing up, do you mean a complete job? I mean, shall I make him take a shower, or what?"
"Is he really that dirty, Marie?"
"Tin afraid so, Mrs. Dodds."
"Tell you what. Get him to take a shower, give him some clean clothing-some of Charles' old things are still around. Give him whatever he needs."
Marie bit her lips. "Excuse me for saying this, Mrs. Dodds, but this man is disreputable-looking. He might be a dangerous character. Do you think it wise to allow him inside with just us two women?"
"Marie," Mrs. Dodds said, "how much do I pay you?"
Marie swallowed. "Three hundred a month, Mrs. Dodds."
"Do you consider that adequate?"
Marie's face was crimson. "Yes, Mrs. Dodds, quite so, along with my room and board."
"Then do as I say. Minus the questions."
Marie bowed slightly. "All right, Mrs. Dodds. I will."
Mrs. Dodds leaned back in her chair, lit another cigarette and thought about the tramp. She hoped he would turn out to be fairly presentable. Damn it, she should have told Marie to have him shave. More than likely, he would have a beard along with all that dirt.
She waited with excitement growing in her for about twenty minutes and then went to her room and picked out the sexiest dress she owned. She put it on and stood in front of the mirror, noting the very short skirt and the way it revealed her shapely legs. She turned this way and that, examining herself. She looked good. She knew it.
She walked slowly toward the kitchen and glanced through the doorway at the man seated at the table, eating. She saw he had already taken his bath and shaved. Mrs. Dodds smiled to herself. The fellow wasn't bad at all; in fact, he looked like quite a man. He certainly had strong features, and the width of his shoulders was excellent. She glanced at his hands and wrists. A woman can tell a lot about a man's potential by his hands and wrists, she knew.
She stepped into the room, clearing her throat at the same time. Marie wasn't in the kitchen. The man glanced up quickly and saw her. His mouth was open, and he tried to get to his feet.
"Never mind," she told him. "Don't get up. Continue eating."
He looked down at his plate, back up at her, then back down at his plate. "Thanks," he muttered.
"What's your name?"
"Sam Bruiser." His voice was low in pitch and this, too, was a good sign. And what a name-Bruiser! It almost thrilled her.
"I'm Mrs. Dodds. Alice Dodds."
"Hi," he said, but did not look at her. "Thanks for the meal."
She noticed then that he was wearing some old clothing of her ex-husband's. "You're welcome, Mr. Bruiser. When you've finished eating, please come into the dining room. I want to talk to you."
Now he glanced at her and she saw he had brown eyes, large ones. "Okay," he said. "That one?" He pointed at the door.
"Yes. This room. I'll be waiting to talk to you."
"Suppose you've got a job for me?"
"Yes," she said softly, and turning on her heel left the kitchen. You're damned right I have, Mr. Bruiser, she added to herself.
Five minutes later, as she was silting at her own breakfast table, she saw him enter the room. He was a tall man with a rather large jaw, she noted. No one would have called him handsome, but he had a look of strength about him that she liked.
"Come in," she said crisply.
He came closer to her and stopped. "I'm ready to work now," he told her quietly.
She got to her feet. "Very well. Follow me, please." She went directly to her bedroom, but he stopped at the doorway, looking hesitant and bewildered. "Come in," she said sharply. "Don't stand there. Close the door, Mr. Bruiser."
"All right," he said. He closed the door softly. "What is it you want me to do?" he asked slowly.
She looked at him boldly. There was no point in beating around the bush. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," he said, looking slightly uneasy. "I don't have a husband," she said. He nodded but did not move. "You understand now?" she asked. "I'm not sure."
"Look at me. Do you think I'm pretty?"
His face reddened but only a little. "Yes."
"Well ... do I have to explain what happens next, Mr. Bruiser?"
"No. That is, I'm not sure."
"It's very simple. I need a man."
"Oh ... I see." He paused, looked around the room, looked back at her. "Excuse me for saying this, lady, but are you some kind of a nut?"
Mrs. Dodds smiled, not the least bit offended. "No. Of course not. What a silly thing to ask. Do I look like a nut?"
He shook his head. "But this is ... sort of crazy, ain't it?"
"Most people would think so. I don't, Mr. Bruiser. Do you?"
He grinned and she saw he had good teeth. "Man, I've run into just about everything in my time, but this is the first time...."
"First time you've had an open proposition. Is that what you're saying?"
"Yeah. That's it."
Mrs. Dodds walked around him to the door. She locked it and returned to stand in front of him. "Mr. Bruiser, did you like your breakfast? Do you like the clean clothing?"
He nodded hesitantly.
"Good," she said. "Kindly lower your pants." He stared at her. "W-What?" She drew in her breath. "I said, Mr. Bruiser, kindly lower your pants."
"That's what I thought you said," he returned, gulping. He made no move to do as she had ordered.
"Well, Mr. Bruiser, are you going to or not?"
"I ... er ... I'm afraid to," he stammered. "Why?"
"Your maid. She might think I'm forcing myself on you and call the cops."
"Marie knows better, Mr. Bruiser. You have nothing to be afraid of."
"Just the same...."
"What's the matter with you? Aren't you a man? Have you drunk so much you're no longer able to?"
"I'm ... not much of a drinker," he stammered, "it's just that...."
"I know what it is. I've moved so fast you're wondering if I'm mentally ill. I'm not, Mr. Bruiser. I'm perfectly all right."
He shook his head. "Never saw a woman like you before."
"I daresay. And now ... will you kindly lower your pants?"
Somewhat hesitantly he unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned the top button of the pants and pulled down on the garment, but only a little.
"I wish you would expose yourself, Mr. Bruiser. Come now. Why are you so reticent?"
"Give me time to get used to the idea," he stammered.
"Push your pants lower, damn it. I want to see you."
His face was redder now, but he pushed the pants down almost to his knees.
"I see my servant gave you clean underwear. Good. Pull your shorts down, please."
"Look," he said. "I ... er...."
"You don't want to? You refuse? Is that it?"
"No, I just...."
"Pull down your shorts, Mr. Bruiser. I want to see what you've got."
He slowly pulled down the shorts until he was exposed to her view. Her eyes took on a sudden glint and her lips parted. "Nice...." she said. "Very nice. You look like a man. Are you a man, Mr. Bruiser?"
"Yeah," he said. "What kind of a question is that?"
She smiled thinly. "Look at me, Mr. Bruiser. Look at my legs. Do they do anything to you?"
"Yeah," he said. "They do a lot to me."
She glanced at him, down. "I see no manifestation of it. What's the matter with you?"
He drew himself up a little. "Give me time, lady. I ain't no machine."
"I hope not." Mrs. Dodds reached around behind her head slowly, letting him glimpse more of her body a little at a time. She heard him suck in his her and unzipped her dress. She pulled it off over breath once or twice and then she removed her dress entirely, standing in front of him wearing only her bra, panties and garter belt and nylons.
"You're some woman, lady," he said thickly.
She stole a galnce at him, down again. He was beginning to get an erection. Fine. Wonderful. "Come here, Mr. Bruiser," she said. "I want you to run your hands over me."
He moved across the room so fast that she jumped away from him. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You scared?"
"No. Just don't move so suddenly. Now then ... put your hands on my body, Mr. Bruiser."
"You really mean that? You really-"
"Don't talk. Just do as I tell you."
She felt his rough hands on her hips, felt them run down her thighs and back up over her hips and up around her back. "You want more?" he asked huskily.
"Will you do ... are you willing to do what I ask of you?"
He moved back from her. "Such as what?" he asked, suspicion on his rugged face.
"Did I ask you questions when you wanted something to eat?"
"No," he said.
She saw that he had a genuine erection now. "Take your pants and shorts off, Mr. Bruiser, all the way off. Your shoes, too."
"Okay," he said, his voice hoarse and somewhat odd-sounding. He removed the pants and shorts and shoes, as well as the pair of her husband's socks Marie had given him. He threw the clothes over a chair. "There. This what you want?"
"It's part of it," she said, her voice strained now. "Please come here and remove my bra."
"You mean that?" he asked, rather stupidly.
"Certainly. Take my bra off. Unhook it in the back."
He came to her and she turned and looked at him over her shoulder as he awkwardly unhooked the bra. It fell loose and her breasts were partially uncovered now. She turned and, drawing the bra all the way off, let him feast his eyes on her large, pink tits.
She saw his eyes bulging half out of his head, and this made her smile. Glancing down at the front of him now, she saw his erect cock quivering.
"Take it in your mouth, Mr. Bruiser," she told him, trying not, to sound too excited, but she was nearly out of her mind with desire.
"Your tit?" he asked. "That what you mean?"
"Yes. Yes, take it in your mouth and please me, Mr. Bruiser."
He shook his head. "You're some hot woman," he muttered.
"Never mind the remarks. Suck it," she told him flatly.
He knelt, but when he did so he was a bit too low down for her breasts, for she was a taller than average woman. He got back to his feet immediately. "Sorry," he muttered.
She was curious as to why he had gotten down on his knees but did not speak about it. "Proceed, Mr. Bruiser, and please hurry."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and taking one of her pointed breasts in his rough hand, began to fondle it.
This sent a thrill up her spine that almost drove her crazy. "In your mouth ... please," she gasped. "Hurry!"
She closed her eyes and felt his large mouth closing over her breast. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and squeezed as he sucked on her roughly, biting her flesh from time to time and going from one breast to the other.
Mrs. Dodds was now almost beside herself with rampant passion. Shoving her panties down to her knees, she thrust out her loins until her cunt touched his tool. She moved her loins about frantically against his hard-on until the inevitable happened. She felt herself being knocked to the floor, felt the powerful, hard body of the man crashing down on hers, felt the sudden brutal thrust of his hard cock entering her body. She lay there panting and moaning with wild exultation as the tramp battered her with all the fury of an aroused wild animal. Too soon, she felt the spurt of hot release from his body. Much to her relief, he did not stop but kept on banging away at her until she, too, reached a jarring climax, and he came a second time.
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS NEARLY A MONTH LATER THAT Mrs. Dodds, lying on the sofa watching The Tonight Show on television, heard the doorbell ringing. She made no move to go to the door-that was Marie's job. The bell kept ringing for a long time and then it came to her that Marie was out for the evening.
"The devil," she muttered. "I forgot about her."
Mrs. Dodds got to her feet, pulled her dressing gown tightly about her and walked barefooted to the door. Making sure the chain was on, she opened the door and caught her breath. She had almost completely forgotten the man, but now as he stood in front of her, the light from the room striking his rough face, she drew in her breath sharply.
"Well, Mr. ... er ... Bruiser. What can I do for you?"
"Can I come in?"
"Are you sober?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sober. I told you the other time, I don't drink much. Can I come in?"
She glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was alone. He was, or appeared to be. "All right!" she said, a stirring taking place within her. "Come in."
He came quickly into the house and she saw he wasn't wearing her ex-husband's clothing but had on a fairly decent-looking suit of his own. "Thanks," he said. "I got back in town today, had to come and see you."
"Really," she said. "Why?"
"Well...." he muttered. "You know." He grinned slightly.
"I'm not sure I like you, Mr. Bruiser. Last time you were here, I offered you a job working about the place and you practically told me to go to hell. Remember?"
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I wasn't ready to take a job then."
"I see."
"You sure look pretty," he said. "Your feet all bare and everything. I guess you must be the prettiest woman I ever knew."
"You don't really know me," she said a trifle coldly.
"Excuse me. Didn't mean that. I ... er ... well, you sure are pretty. I just had to see you again."
She walked to the sofa and sat down slowly in the most deliberately sexy manner she could. Bringing her feet up on the sofa, she let her dressing gown fall away from her legs as much as possible. She could see him staring intently at her legs, and it pleased her.
"So," she said, "you just had to see me again. May I ask why?"
"Because," he blurted, "of what we did last time."
"Oh ... and what was it we did, Mr. Bruiser?"
He grinned and took a step toward her and stopped. "Well, you know what we did, don't you?"
"Of course. I merely want to hear you say it. What did we do, Mr. Bruiser?"
"You mean you want me to say it?" he asked.
"Yes. Say it." Under her breath she added, "You fool."
"We ... er ... screwed on the floor. That right?"
"We had intercourse," she said, correcting him just to let him know he couldn't speak in any manner he chose.
"Yeah," he said. "That's what we did. I ... er ... been out of town. I been working."
"So you told me, I believe. What do you want of me?"
He took another step toward her. "Thought maybe you might want to get together with me again."
"No, thank you," she said, though she did. There was no point in letting him think he could arrange matters between them.
His face fell. "Guess you're still mad at me for not coming to work for you, right?"
"I couldn't care less," she lied.
"Guess I better get going then," he muttered, and half turned.
"Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Bruiser. I haven't told you, you could go."
He looked at her in surprise. "What did you say?"
She didn't repeat it. Instead she said, "Come and sit down. By the way, what's your first name?"
"You forgot? It's Sam."
"Come and sit down, Sam. I feel like doing a bit of drinking. How about you?"
"Sure," he said, his face brightening. "I could go for that."
She pointed at the bar, which was at the far end of the room. "Go and get a bottle of Scotch. Bring the container of water, too. It's fresh."
He did so, and when he came to the sofa she moved over. "Sit down," she instructed him.
He sat holding the bottle, having placed the water container on the cocktail table. "You first?" he asked.
"Naturally," she said, and took the bottle. She drank from it and then from the water container. "You forgot to bring glasses, Sammy boy."
He appeared to be paying no attention to her remarks. "I've thought about that time over and over. Every time I think of it I get a ... a ... well, you know. I get hot all over."
"You mean," she said deliberately, "that thinking of me gives you a hard-on. Ts that correct?"
His face reddened a little. "Yeah. That's right." He grinned sheepishly. "You sure say what you feel like saying."
She handed the bottle to him. "Drink," she told him.
He did so and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "You sure are a hot bitch," he remarked.
Her face was a study in anger. "Watch that kind of talk, buster! Just watch it."
He became instantly repentant. "Sorry. Shouldn't have said that, ma'am."
"You're damned right you shouldn't have," she retorted, still angry.
His face fell again. "I got a big mouth," he said, looking down and away from her black-eyed, penetrating gaze.
"Yes, you have," she said drily. "Don't ever speak to me in that manner again."
He lifted his eyes after a moment but still didn't look at her directly. "I was hoping that job was still open, Mrs. Dodds."
"Might be. Thought you said you had a job."
"I did, but not now. Lost it."
Her anger had left her by now and she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. Her gown had come open at the front and she knew her breasts were exposed to his view. She figured he would look them over more readily if she closed her eyes-there was a certain air of shyness about him that didn't quite fit his character, or what she thought was his character.
"You sure are a pretty woman," he said again.
"I'm a very lonely woman," she said softly. "Do you really want a job?"
"Yeah. Sure do, ma'am."
Her eyes still closed, she said, "Don't call 'ma'am.' I hate that term."
"All right. Sorry."
A moment later she felt his rough hand on thigh. She didn't open her eyes. "Sam," she said, "go through that door over there by the bar. You'll find a bathroom. Take a shower."
"What?" he said, lifting his hand from her leg.
"I said," she told him, speaking distinctly, "for you to go take a shower."
"Do I smell?"
She bit her lips. "Yes. You smell like hell."
"All right. I'll go take a bath, Mrs. Dodds. Like last time?"
She knew what he meant, of course. "We'll see," me her she said. "Run along now. Take your bath. Use plenty of soap, too. I want you very clean."
"Okay," he said, and as she opened her eyes she saw him get up and leave the room. She smiled.
She knew now what it was she wanted. She wanted to ... take him in a different manner than the last time. She closed her eyes and tried to visualize what it would be like. For a long time she had had this desire, but never had she indulged in it. Well ... perhaps tonight and with this bum she would try it.
Perhaps she would.
She went over and turned off the television set, then came back and had several quick drinks from the bottle. She was feeling a trifle high now, and this was the way she wanted to be-not too high but a trifle high. She sank down on the sofa again and immediately a trickle of moisture ran down her legs. She opened her gown and placed her hand on her bare cunt and sighed.
When she heard a sound she quickly withdrew her hand and closed the gown. It wasn't Sam Bruiser, however. It must have been a sound coming from outside the house. She listened for a movement but didn't hear anything more. She was tempted to feel herself again but didn't do it. She knew she was highly excited and wondered if he had suspected it. She had taken pains not to let him know the extent of her excitement. She didn't want him to start something-she preferred to do the starting.
"I'm going to keep this stupid fool here," she muttered. "He's just perfect. Any time I get the urge I'll make him do it to me."
There was something about having a man in her power so that she could command him to make love to her that thrilled her immensely. If she hired him to work around the place he would be like a slave to her. She smiled again, and again the moisture ran down her thighs.
She looked up and saw him standing fully dressed in the doorway. She frowned. "Why did you get dressed?" she asked.
He seemed puzzled. "Huh?" he said.
"Go back into the bedroom, remove your clothes and lie down on the bed. Understand?"
He didn't reply, but she saw the light go off a moment later. She smiled and lay flat on her back, the bottle in her hand. From time to time, she took a drink and kept on until she felt she was high enough to do what she wanted. She put the bottle on the floor and got to her feet. Walking slowly across the room, she felt a wave of dizziness and for a moment thought she had drunk too much. The dizziness passed soon, however, and she smiled to herself. Pulling her gown off, she went to the door of the bedroom, the gown over her arm. She threw the gown into the room, not caring if it fell on the floor or not.
"Sam," she said softly.
There was no answer. Frowning, she took a step into the room, and that was when she heard him snoring. There was something about this that excited her beyond measure. She lifted her breasts and let them drop down against her chest. Her heart was racing like mad now, and she had to take several deep breaths before moving again. Finally, she went toward the bed, her knee striking the edge of it hard enough to cause her to wince. She waited a moment, then sank down on the bed, taking care not to touch him. She wanted him to remain sleeping for a while.
Carefully, she lowered her head until her lips were only inches from his face. She couldn't see him well-the light from the front room didn't reveal him clearly-but she could see him well enough to know his face was close to hers. She considered kissing his rather thick lips but refrained from it. There was something else she wanted to try while he was sleeping, and she hoped he would remain sleeping while she did it. Sliding down on the bed gently, she lowered her face to his stomach and lightly kissed his flesh. He stirred a little but didn't awaken. She waited for a long moment and then, with her heart beating furiously, again moved her head downward until it was only inches from his limp organ. She moistened her lips a little and kissed him there ever so lightly. Again he stirred but didn't awaken.
Mrs. Dodds was almost beside herself now, just as she had been that first time she was close to him. She wanted to ... but something held her back. How could she know if he was really asleep? Maybe he was only feigning sleep and would do away with the pretense and catch her attempting what she feverishly had in mind. She straightened up and sighed deeply. She knew she didn't have the courage for it-yet.
Perhaps a few more drinks would give her the courage. She started to get up from the bed, thought better of it, and sat quietly beside the sleeping man. His breathing was deep and somewhat irregular. This bothered her.
"Bruiser," she said without realizing she was using his last name, "wake up."
He didn't awaken, though she spoke to him several times. Finally, she touched him, and still he didn't open his eyes.
"Hey," she said in a normal tone of voice. "What's wrong with you?"
He didn't move or answer her.
She got to her feet, turned on the light and looked at his nudity. Something tore her gaze away from him and she glanced about the room hastily. She saw it then-her bottle of sleeping pills on the dresser, where she had left it the night before. There was something wrong: the bottle was uncapped. She stepped across the room, picked up the bottle and examined it. She couldn't be certain, but she thought several of the pills were missing. She recapped the bottle and placed it in a drawer. She walked back to the bed.
"So that's your hang-up, mister. You like pills."
He didn't awaken, of course, when she spoke. He was out.
"You damned fool," she said bitterly. "How'm I going to have any fun with you all knocked out?"
She reached down and shook him hard, but he didn't wake up. Mrs. Dodds swore lustily, picked up her gown, put it on and walked out of the room turning out the light as she left. She went back to the sofa, got the bottle of Scotch and drank from it.
"Damn him," she muttered. "I could brain him, the lousy bum."
Thinking about how she had kissed him, had almost gone down on him, caused her to become sexually agitated all over again. She lay flat on the sofa, her legs spread wide apart, and wished she had a man who was awake. An ache came into her loins and she swore again and got to her feet. She went directly to the bedroom and reached down and slapped his face. He didn't move, only snored. She slapped him again and again, but he didn't come out of his drugged slumber.
"You must have taken a half-dozen of them," she muttered. "Trying to kill yourself, you stupid fool?"
His only response was more heavy breathing.
She touched his arm with her hand and felt of the muscle in it. Even in this relaxed condition the muscle was hard. She ran her hand up his arm to his face, and when she touched his lips, he stirred a little. Sighing, she leaned over and placed her head on his chest and lay there for some time. It was maddening to have a naked man in your bed asleep when you wanted him to be awake and aroused. She ran her hand down between his legs and felt his cock. It was soft, so she let her fingers slide up and down on it in the hopes that it might become hard even in his sleep. To her surprise and delight, it did exactly that, but only got semi-hard.
"Well, what do you know?" she muttered. "Maybe I could have some fun after all."
She bent her head and kissed his partially erect rod.
It became harder immediately, so she kissed it again, running her tongue over it, her heart thumping so furiously inside her that it threatened to jump out.
"Ho boy," she muttered, trying to imitate his speech. "I sure got 'em tonight. Wake up, you," she added loudly to him, but he didn't awaken.
She leaned over and took his penis in her mouth and worked her lips around on it, up and down.
She stopped.
It had gone soft suddenly.
"Damn you," she said angrily. "You stinking bastard. I could kill you for taking those pills." She got up from the bed and flounced back into the front room, her limbs trembling, her heart thumping harder than ever.
"How would it be to throw a pan of cold water on him?" she asked herself aloud. "I must do something. I'm nearly wild with this damned thing going on in me."
Her muttering came to an abrupt end then, for the front door was opened and Marie walked in. Mrs. Dodds drew her legs together and sat up.
"You're back, I see," she said. "Where have you been? It's one o'clock in the morning."
Marie apparently hadn't seen her employer up to this point, for now she started and whirled about. "Oh, Mrs. Dodds ... you're still up. I hope you weren't waiting for me."
"He's back," Mrs. Dodds said.
"What did you say?" Marie walked over closer to her employer.
"I said, damn it, he's back."
Marie looked bewildered. "Who's back?"
"That tramp."
"Mrs. Dodds, there are lots of tramps. Which one?"
"Oh, you know. Sam Bruiser."
"You mean he's been here tonight?" Marie's eyes were wide.
"I mean he's been here and he's still here, passed out on my bed."
"Drunk?"
"You might say that. He got ahold of my sleeping pills and knocked himself out."
Marie gasped. "You don't mean he's dead?"
"No. Just sleeping. I could brain him."
"Do you want me to call the police, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Hell, no. You ought to know better than that."
"Sorry, Mrs. Dodds. I wasn't thinking. It's too bad I didn't know about him sooner, I could have gotten Glen to get rid of him for you." Glen was Marie's boy friend.
"No, that wouldn't do, Marie," Mrs. Dodds said sharply. "Glen would blab it all over town that I had a naked man on my bed."
Marie stuck out her lower lip almost in a pout. "Glen isn't that kind of a man. He wouldn't do anything to harm us, Mrs. Dodds."
Mrs. Dodds waved her hand. "Never mind. Don't defend Glen to me again. I'm sick of hearing about what a noble beast he is."
Marie stood straighter. "Glen isn't a beast, Mrs. Dodds." Her eyes flashed a little.
"All right, Marie, don't get all worked up about it. You can go to bed now."
"But what are you going to do with the tramp?"
Mrs. Dodds' eyes gleamed. "What do you mean by that?"
Marie flushed. "I just meant, how are you going to get rid of him?"
"Don't intend to. I just want him to wake up."
"You mean you're allowing him to remain in the house all night?"
"Yes. Certainly."
Marie looked frightened now. "But, Mrs. Dodds ... the man ... you know nothing about him. He might murder us in our sleep."
"Go to bed, Marie. I won't let him murder you in your sleep."
Marie walked hesitantly across the room. "Mrs. Dodds, I hope you know what you're doing. That man frightens me. I remember him. He's a rough character, you know."
"Stop worrying. I'm not afraid of him."
"Do you still have your gun, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Yes. Good grief, cut it out. He's not going to hurt you. He's not going to do anything to you."
"Just the same, I'm frightened."
"Then lock your bedroom door."
"All right, Mrs. Dodds. But you be careful. Keep your gun handy. Don't let him do anything to you." Marie walked from the room.
When she was well out of earshot, Mrs. Dodds laughed. "Hell, he's not going to do anything to me. That's just the trouble. He's out, and I want him to do something to me." She laughed again. "Something violent, Marie, you insipid little fool."
Her loins aching again, she got to her feet and walked quickly to the bedroom. She threw her gown aside, crawled naked into the bed, pulled the covers over them and pressed her buttocks against his limp but substantial prick. He didn't move, and some time later Mrs. Dodds herself fell into a sound sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN SHE AWAKENED IN THE MORNING she wasn't at all surprised to find him gone. She stretched her arms high above her head, sighed, climbed out of bed and went to the dresser, where she inspected her drawer containing the bottle of sleeping pills. The pills were missing. Mrs. Dodd shrugged. If that was all he wanted, then to hell with him-he was welcome to the pills. She wasn't the kind of woman who worried about such small matters. She could get more pills from her doctor easily enough.
Still ... she wished she could have had some real fun with him. But she hadn't been able to, so that was that. She proceeded to put her man out of her mind.
After breakfast she dressed carefully, left the house and drove downtown in her new Buick. She loved new cars, loved to drive them fast, and had received a great many tickets for speeding. This time, because she was in the city, she drove within the speed limit and arrived in the downtown area some twenty minutes later.
Just as she was about to turn into a parking lot she recalled briefly how it had thrilled her to kiss the man's penis. This nearly caused her to run into another car that was coming out to the street from the lot. The driver, a man, yelled at her, and she came back to the present with a start. She glanced at the driver, frowned, and pulled her car out of the way. He made a face at her and drove away. She parked the car, paid the attendant and walked hurriedly to the main street one block away. She then slowed down and pretended to window-shop, though she was totally unlike most women in this respect-she didn't care much for either window shopping or actual shopping. She preferred, whenever possible, to let Marie make her purchases.
She moved along the street hoping to spot a good-looking young man who appeared to have nothing to do. She could always tell when a man was at loose ends-it was a simple matter; they had a certain look about them.
Apparently, all the men on the street today were busy. Not one seemed to be interested in her. She walked down the street for several blocks and finally stopped in front of a movie house. She considered entering the theater, not because she wanted to see the movie, but because there was always an outside chance that some man would attempt to feel her up in the darkness of the theater.
She rejected the idea as being a waste of time. Mrs. Dodds had often gone into this movie house, but only once had a man made any advances, and that had been more than six months ago.
Instead, she turned and crossed the street, then walked up the other side until she came to her turn-off corner. She turned and recrossed the street and went back to the parking lot. She climbed into her car and drove in the direction of her home. Mrs. Dodds was disappointed because her trip downtown had been a complete bust. What to do now? Wasn't there someone she could call on the phone? She knew there wasn't. No one wanted to go out with Charles Dodds' ex-wife. Charles Dodds was too influential in this city; all the men were afraid of him. In fact, everyone in town was afraid of Charles except berself, and it gave her some temporary satisfaction to realize this.
"If they only knew about Charles the way I do," she muttered as she drove into her driveway, "they wouldn't be afraid of him at all."
She drove the car into the garage, turned off the motor and sat there smoking a cigarette. Finally, she snubbed it out and climbed out of the car, her short skirt creeping high on her thighs. She shut the car door and turned to leave the garage, and that was when she saw him.
A boy about fifteen stood in the driveway near the garage entrance. When he saw her looking at him he started to move away and out of the yard.
"Hey," she called. "Come back here, boy."
The boy stopped and turned and looked at her. He had rather long brown hair and very large brown eyes. "Huh?" he said.
Slowly and sensually she walked toward him, taking care not to be too deliberate about her movements. She stopped a short distance from him, aware that he was trying desperately not to look at her legs.
"Who are you, boy?" she asked calmly.
"J live down the street. I mean in the next block," he told her.
"I never saw you around here before. Did your parents just move to this neighborhood?"
"My parents are dead," he said, pushing his Ion?, brown hair out of his eyes. "I came to live with my grandmother. She's a cripple."
Mrs. Dodds' interest grew. "What is your name, boy?" She was glad now that Marie had told her she was going to visit her sister.
"Robert."
"Robert what?"
"Robert Loring."
"What were you doing in my yard, Robert?"
"Nothing."
"You must have been doing something." He shook his head, his long hair flying about. "Nope, wasn't doing nothing. Just ... looking."
"Don't you go to school?"
"Not yet."
"How long have you lived on this street?"
"Two days."
Mrs. Dodds looked the boy over carefully without appearing to do so. This sort of thing had to be handled ever so carefully. "Do you have a grandfather, too?"
"No. He's dead. Just my grandmother. She's a cripple. She has an old woman who takes care of her."
"No one else lives in your house, just you and your grandmother?"
"The old woman who takes care of her does."
"What's your grandmother's name, Robert?"
"Hart. Mrs. Hart."
Mrs. Dodds walked sensually toward the rear door of her house, then stopped. "Do you like pie and ice cream, Robert?"
He glanced at her strangely, and she knew why. She had caught him looking at her legs again. She smiled nicely. "I asked you a question, Robert."
"What?" He shook the long hair out of his eyes again.
"I asked you if you liked pie and ice cream."
"What kind of pie?"
"Apple."
"Sure. Sure I do. Why?"
She turned sideways so he could see how her breasts jutted out. "I was about to have some myself. Now that we have met, I thought it only neighborly to offer you some. Would you like to come inside and have some pie and ice cream, Robert?"
His brown eyes gleamed. "Sure I would. Thanks."
"My name is Mrs. Dodds," she told him. "Please follow me, Robert."
She timed her move so that they both went through the door at the same time, and her breasts brushed hard against his arm. He jumped back and mumbled something, but she only smiled and didn't look at him, for she knew he would be blushing at having made contact with her body. She went directly to the refrigerator and took out an apple pie and a container of ice cream. Without looking at him, she told him to sit down at the table. She cut the pie and filled to shallow bowls with ice cream and carried them to the table. His face was still flushed, she saw with satisfaction.
"There you are, Robert. Eat all you like."
"Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes cast down at the plate.
She walked around in back of him so he couldn't see her and quickly pulled her blouse open. Glancing down at herself, she saw that her breasts were almost totally exposed, smiled to herself and went back to the opposite side of the table. She sat down and leaned forward so he could see her breasts easily.
He was eating the ice cream and didn't look at her, so she spoke his name. He glanced up, stared at her exposed boobs for a brief instant, then looked away quickly. She noted that his face was crimson.
"Is something wrong, Robert?" she asked softly. "No, ma'am," he mumbled.
"Where you lived before? Did you have a girl, Robert?"
He shook his head and blushed again.
"Nice-looking boy like you-you ought to have a girl, Robert."
He said nothing but continued to eat.
"Robert, look at me, please."
He looked at her then, but at her hair, she noticed. His eyes were strange. There was excitement in them, but she knew he was trying desperately not to let it show.
"What do you see, Robert?" she asked softly.
"You're awful pretty," he blurted.
"Thank you," she said sweetly, "but what do you see?"
He pushed his chair back suddenly. "I gotta go, ma'am," he said, his voice breaking nervously.
"Sit down, Robert," she said firmly. "I'll tell you when you may go. You aren't going to be rude, are you?"
"No, ma'am." He resumed his seat hesitantly.
"Robert, I must tell you something. I want you to promise me you won't tell anyone I invited you in for a snack. Will you do that?"
"I won't tell no one," he said. "Ain't nobody to tell."
"You mustn't mention it to your grandmother, I mean. Or the lady who takes care of her. Promise?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"All right. Now finish your ice cream and pie. I want you to come into the front room with me. I have something I want to show you."
"I'm all finished," he said.
She got to her feet. "All right, Robert, come with me, please."
He followed her into the front room, and she told him to sit on the sofa. She then went into the den and got a box of stamps her husband had once collected. She brought these out and handed them to him.
"Do you like stamp collections, Robert?"
"Yes," he said eagerly.
"You may have them. I want you to have them."
"Gee," he stammered. "Gee, thanks, ma'am."
"You're welcome, Robert, but don't examine them now. Put the box down on the floor."
He did as she told him, then she saw him glance down inside his shirt front. "Darn," he mumbled.
"Something wrong, Robert?" she asked.
"I spilled ice cream down inside the front of my shirt."
Mrs. Dodds knew a stroke of good luck when she saw it. "How awful, Robert, dear. What a mess. You can't go home that way." She paused, bit her lips hard, then added casually, "You'll have to go take a bath, Robert. We can't have you going about with that sticky goo all over you."
"Oh ... it's okay," he said uneasily.
"No, it's not okay. If you go home with that mess on you, they'll want to know where you got the ice cream. Then you'd have to tell them, and that would be breaking your promise to me, wouldn't it, Robert?"
"I guess so, ma'am. Gee, what a stupid thing to do."
"Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is." Mrs. Dodds was fairly quivering with excitement, but she knew he was too young and inexperienced to observe this.
He got to his feet awkwardly. "Why don't you want nobody to know I been here, ma'am?" he blurted.
She thought fast. "Because my husband, who doesn't live here right now, is very mean. He has ... er ... forbidden me to have guests."
The boy looked at her oddly. "Gee, what's he want to be mean to you for? You're awful nice."
"Some people are just naturally mean, Robert. Come now. I'll show you to the shower."
She took his arm and led him through her bedroom to the shower. After turning the water on and adjusting it so it wasn't too hot or too cold for him, she turned to him. "Remove your clothing, Robert."
He didn't make a move.
"I said, remove your clothing, Robert."
"I ... er ... can't, ma'am."
"But you have to, Robert."
"You're here," he blurted, his face reddening again.
"I won't look, Robert. Take off your clothing." He hesitated.
"Come now, Robert. You're not a little boy any more. You should never feel this way. I'm much older than you. I...."
He had taken his shirt off and she stopped talking when she saw he wasn't wearing an under shirt.
She looked at his rather dark skin-it looked as if he had a tan, but actually it was his natural color-and a thrill ran through her.
"Remove your pants now, Robert."
His face grew even redder. "Gee, I can't do that while you're here, ma'am."
"Certainly you can. I told you I wouldn't look."
He bent down and removed his shoes and socks as though trying to stall for time. "Gee," he muttered. "I...."
"Yes, you can," she said, anticipating his remark.
"All right. You look the other way ma'am."
"Sure I will, Robert. Take off your pants and give them to me."
He removed his pants and handed them to her.
"Now ... your shorts, Robert," she said, catching her breath.
He mumbled something or other but pushed his shorts down and stepped out of them, keeping his back turned to her.
She saw he had his hands cupped over his groin and that he was bending over a little. "Robert," she said, "why are you doing that?"
"Doing what?" he mumbled, his back still turned to her.
Mrs. Dodds was just about ready to throw caution to the winds. The excitement in her was growing so much she knew she wasn't going to be able to restrain herself much longer. She sighed deeply, then took a big chance. "Turn around," she said.
He didn't turn around but glanced at her nervously over his shoulder. "Gee," he blurted. "I feel like a fool."
"Don't feel that way. Turn around, please."
"I can't, ma'am. I just can't."
"Yes, you can," she said firmly. "Turn around, Robert."
He turned around, his eyes cast down, his hands still covering himself. His face was much redder now.
"Take your hands away, Robert," she said sharply.
"Gee...." he sobbed. "I feel like a fool."
"Stop that," she told him. "Take your hands away."
He removed his hands and she sucked in her breath sharply at the sight of his erection. "Gee," he stammered. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I couldn't help it."
"Nothing to be ashamed of, Robert. I think it's ... quite ... nice."
He covered himself immediately.
"Take your hands away, Robert," she said patiently. "And leave them away."
He did so, and she moved closer to him. "Now just be calm, Robert. I'm going to touch you there."
His eyes were wild and confused, she noted. She didn't care what was going on inside him; she only cared about her own feelings, which were threatening to get completely out of hand. The hell with it, was her thought, and stepping still closer to him, she reached out and took his erect member in her hand. She ran her hand up and down gently on it while his body jerked and shuddered.
"Don't you like that, Robert?" she asked softly.
"Y-yes. It ... it feels ... wonderful."
She could tell by the way his eyes were bulging and the way he was breathing that she had better stop this or the results would be disaster. She let go of him and took his arm.
"Come with me, Robert," she said, her voice shaking somewhat.
"Where we going?" he asked. "We are going to my bedroom but first you must promise me something more. Will you?"
"Yes, ma'am. Anything," he said excitedly. "You must never tell this to a living soul, Robert. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," he mumbled. "Gee ... I feel so ... funny."
"But you like the feeling, don't you, Robert?" He bin shed. "Yes, ma'am. I like it an awful lot." She led him into her bedroom and told him to lie down on the bed, which he did instantly. "Now I want you to watch me Robert. Watch what I do."
He seem slightly alarmed now. "What you gonna do?"
"Just goin to undress in front of you, Robert." His eyes were ready to pop out of his head. "Gee ... gosh...." he gasped.
When had she had removed her blouse and bra, her breasts tumbled out into full view, and immediately he began to finger himself.
"Stop that," she said loudly. "Keep your hands off it."
He blushed furiously. His action had evidently been an unconscious one. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice breaking.
She threw off her garments one by one, never taking her eyes from his. She knew the boy was at the breaking point, so when she was naked she lay down suddenly beside. him and pulled him on top of her quickly. Even before she could take hold of his straining cock and insert it, he began pumping at her.
"Wait. Robert, wait, till I'm ready for you."
"But I can't," he sobbed.
"Yes, you can," she told him. "Hold still a moment."
He stopped moving and she took hold of his rigid rod and slipped it inside her burning cunt. "Now press, Robert, press down hard," she told him.
He began to pump at her furiously.
Mrs. Dodds raised her loins to aid him, a smile on her face.
"Oh ... this is wonderful" he gasped.
"Yes, Robert, it is very ... nice."
She placed both hands behind her neck, clasping them together, shot her loins up higher, smiled more broadly and closed her eyes. This was beautiful, simply beautiful. How nice to have his hot, young, virginal penis pumping within her. How very nice it was ... how very nice....
Then somehow, in his frenzy, his slippery shaft slipped out of her, but still he moved on her, apparently not knowing contact had been broken. Frantically, she grabbed for his rod and inserted it again, and once more she lay back and smiled as he humped her.
His first release came quickly, but Mrs. Dodds wasn't worried. This was a young boy, and there was almost no limit to the number of times he could come. When he stopped moving, she patted him on the back.
"That was nice, Robert. Now ... do it all over again."
"Oh ... oh ... oh!" he moaned, and began to pump at her again, even faster than before.
This time she held his buttocks down tightly so he couldn't break contact. So far he hadn't really struck her most sensitive spot, but then suddenly he did, and she moaned and shifted her loins about while he continued on at his furious pace. His shaft rubbed her clitoris again and again, and Mrs. Dodds thought she was going to lose her sanity, it felt so terrific.
"Oh, Robert" she cried. "You're wonderful"
"Oh ... oh ... oh," he repeated insensibly, and then he came a second time, and stopped a few moments later.
"You may rest a moment, Robert," she told him, gasping out the words.
He lay still on top of her, but contact hadn't been broken, and he still had a hard-on. He was breathing very fast, and his sweat was running onto her flesh now.
"Did you like it, Robert?" she asked shakily but softly.
His answer was to begin pumping again.
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS MRS. Dodds kept glancing out the windows of her house, trying to see if the boy might have returned, but she saw no sign of him. She was somewhat worried for fear he might have an attack of guilt and blurt out the whole affair to someone, perhaps his grandmother. Her common sense, however, told her this boy would never mention their passionate interlude to his grandmother-he would be too ashamed to do a thing like that. Just the same, there was the danger that he might meet some other boys and start bragging about "his conquest," and this was what really worried Mrs. Dodds.
She wanted to get him alone again and caution him against this sort of thing.
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said from behind her, "are you expecting someone? You keep looking out the window so much."
"No, Marie, I'm not." Mrs. Dodds' voice was low and soft.
Marie had a strange look on her face. Apparently, she wasn't used to having her employer speak so gently to her. "Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Dodds?"
Alice Dodds turned around slowly and surveyed her servant. "Now why on earth do you ask that, Marie?"
Marie smiled. "Oh, no reason. You sound different, if I may say so."
Mrs. Dodds also smiled. "I'm feeling very good these days, better than I have in months." She knew the reason for it, too, though she refrained from telling Marie that her good mood was due to the intense satisfaction she had gotten out of the boy. It had been the most exciting occurrence of her entire life. She wouldn't have believed this possible a few days ago, but now she knew it was a young boy could be intensely exciting, far more so than a grown man. With a grown man the whole thing was fairly predictable, but with a boy ... well, who could tell what would happen? And this was the sort of thing that intrigued Mrs. Dodds deeply-the unknown.
"Did that tramp ever come back?" Marie asked.
"What?" Mrs. Dodds had turned back and was looking through the window again.
"That dirty tramp. Did he ever come back again?"
"No. He never did, Marie. He stole my pills, and I suppose he'll never come back again. Probably afraid I'll have him arrested."
"I hope he doesn't. That man scared me. He looks like a murderer."
Alice Dodds laughed. "You have a vivid imagination, Marie. He's too stupid to kill anyone."
"Do you have to be smart to do that?"
Mrs. Dodds turned and glanced at her servant sharply. "What's with you today, Marie? What are you so jumpy about?"
"I'm not jumpy."
"You look as though you've seen a ghost. What are you frightened about?"
"I-I had a dream last night. I dreamt that man raped me."
"Are you sure you didn't enjoy the dream?"
"Why, Mrs. Dodds, what a terrible thing to say to me"
"Okay, I'm sorry. I take it back."
Marie shuddered. "There was more to the dream, too."
"Oh, and what was that?"
"I wouldn't dare tell you, Mrs. Dodds."
"But you have my curiosity aroused now. Tell me, what else happened in the dream?"
"That man ... the tramp....he forced me...."
"You told me that."
Marie shook her blonde head, her blue eyes flashing. "He forced me in another way."
"And what was that?" Mrs. Dodds inquired, very much interested.
"He forced me to ... er ... suck him."
Mrs. Dodds smiled. "And did you?" She paused. "I mean in the dream?"
Marie flushed. "Oh, I shouldn't have brought this up."
"Tell me, Marie. Did you suck him?"
"Y-yes. It was ... just awful, Mrs. Dodds. I can ... I can ... taste him right now ... almost."
Mrs. Dodds smiled. She knew that Marie was getting a thrill out of talking about her dream, and she suspected the dream had been caused by a suppressed desire on Marie's part. Marie's friend.
Glen, was a timid, meek little man who struck Mrs. Dodds as being the type of guy who never allowed himself to even think about sex.
She thought she would tease Marie a little. "Marie," she said, "they say that a dream like yours is sometimes a forewarning of things to come. When I'm out of the house, you'd better be sure the doors are locked. That tramp might come back and actually force you to do what he did in the dream."
"Mrs. Dodds!" Marie exclaimed. "What a perfectly horrible thing to say! I swear, you frighten the wits out of me with that kind of talk."
"I was just kidding you," her employer said, and turned back to the window.
"Whatever are you looking for, Mrs. Dodds? You just keep on looking out the window all the time."
"Nothing. I just like the fall of the year. The leaves on the ground, all that sort of thing. Autumn is very pretty."
"Yes, it is."
Mrs. Dodds felt the muscles in her stomach tighten. The boy had just emerged from behind a bush and was presently staring at the very window she was peering out of. She felt her pulse racing, and it made her feel slightly absurd. After all, he was only a kid. Could it be that she was cracking up?
"Marie," she said softly. "Do you think I'm cracking up?"
"What?"
"I know it's a crazy question, but do you?"
"Do I what?"
"Never mind."
Robert had seen her and had quickly darted back behind the bush. Mrs. Dodds watched the spot for several long moments, but the boy didn't reappear. She swore softy.
"What did you say, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Nothing," Mrs. Dodds said absently. "Go and pour me a drink, Marie. Scotch. A big one."
"AH right." Marie started from the room but stopped. "Mrs. Dodds, sometimes I wish Glen didn't live with his mother."
Before Mrs. Dodds could answer, Marie had left the room. When she returned, nothing more was said about it. Mrs. Dodds knew what she meant, however. Marie was telling her in her own way that she, too, needed sex and wasn't ever going to get any from her friend Glen.
Mrs. Dodds took the drink from Marie's hands, lifted the glass to her lips and sipped it. Marie had mixed cold water with the Scotch, and Alice liked it this way. She smacked her lips without realizing it.
"Is it good, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Yes, Marie. Very good."
"Would you mind ... if I had one, Mrs. Dodds?"
"No. Help yourself."
"Thank you." Marie walked out of the room again and returned after a minute. She held her glass up and sipped it. "Mrs. Dodds, may I say something personal to you?"
"I guess so," Mrs. Dodds replied. "What is it?"
"You ... you are very nice to me today."
Alice laughed. "I know what you mean. You mean I'm usually hollering at you, and today I'm not. You want to know why. I don't know why. I just seem to be a little more contented, for some reason. I rather like being this way for a change."
"Oh, I didn't mean that you hollered at me, Mrs. Dodds."
"It's okay, Marie. I do holler at you. I know it."
"I was just wondering ... did he ... did that man make the change in you?"
"No," Mrs. Dodds said shortly. "He had nothing to do with it."
"Are you angry with me for asking that?"
Mrs. Dodds shook her head. "Marie, do you have your watch on? What time is it?"
The servant glanced at her watch and frowned. "I don't know. The old thing stopped on me again."
Mrs. Dodds glanced through the window again, then turned to her servant. "Marie, how would you like a new watch? A real nice one?"
"Why ... fine, Mrs. Dodds, but I can't afford one."
"Take my car. Drive down to Wetherford's, the jeweler's, and buy yourself the best watch you can find. On me, Marie. Tell them to put it on my account."
"Why, Mrs. Dodds, how generous of you! Do you really mean it?"
"Of course I do. Go right now, before I change my mind."
"But I have work to do."
"Marie," Mrs. Dodds said firmly, "you will go ... right now."
Marie pressed her hands against her throat. She put her drink down, walked out the room and returned with her coat on. "Thank you, Mrs. Dodds. I'm going to get the watch now."
"Good. Take all the time you want. Don't hurry back."
"All right. Thank you again." After the servant had driven the car out of the driveway and headed it down the street, Alice walked out into the back yard near the bush where she had seen the boy hiding. He wasn't there now, and she pretended to examine the bush and some small trees that had been set out earlier in the year.
She heard a sound at the rear of the garage and, with her pulse racing, looked in that direction. She caught a glimpse of the boy as he ducked behind the garage and out of sight. She walked close to the spot and spoke softly.
"I'm going inside, Robert. If you want to, you may come in the back door after a moment."
She turned and, without looking back, went to the door and entered the house. It seemed an hour before she heard him come up on the porch and turn the door knob. She waited until he was inside.
"Hello, Robert," she said softly. "I've missed you. Where have you been keeping yourself?"
His shirt was open down the front and his hair was just as mussed up as it had been the other time. "I had to go to school. My grandmother made me start here this week. Today is Saturday, so I don't have to go."
"I saw you hiding behind the bush. Would you like some more ... ice cream and pie?" She hoped he would get the significance of her remark.
"Y-yes ... yes ... I would, ma'am." His face was red now.
"Please don't call me that. Call me Mrs. Dodds. Will you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dodds." He looked down at the floor when he observed her smiling sexily at him.
"You may follow me into the other room, Robert."
"No," he said, fear in his eyes.
She turned and stared hard at him. "You don't want to, Robert?" She said it slowly, deliberately, and there was a threat in her tone.
"I thought you meant ... real pie ... real ice cream."
She fought to control herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned her face away from him and put on a small act for his benefit. "You have hurt my feelings, Robert," she said quietly.
"I'm sorry. I'm real sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
"Just the same, you have. I've been kind to you ... and you have hurt me in return."
She thought he was going to burst out crying, but he didn't. She waited a long moment, then asked, "Are you coming with me or aren't you, Robert?"
"I can't. I'm scared to. My grandmother ... she might find out."
She felt like saying, "Oh, the hell with your stupid old grandmother-what can she do for you?" but that would have scared the devil out of him. Instead, she smiled and said, "Very well, Robert. Then you might as well go home to your grandmother."
"But I don't want to," he protested. "I want to ... stay here."
"I thought you said you didn't want to stay here."
His face was redder than before. "I do want tq stay ... but I don't ... want to go to your...."
"To my bedroom, Robert? Is that what you're trying to say?" she asked icily.
His fifteen-year-old face was twisted with agony. "I do ... but I'm scared of ... her ... my grandmother."
"Why should you be? How would she know if you...?" She purposely left the question unfinished.
"I don't know. All I know is she knew I had a ... girl." He glanced away from her quickly. "I don't know how she knew. Maybe I talked in my sleep."
A small pang of fear crept into Mrs. Dodds. "You fool," she said, "did you talk in your sleep?"
"I don't know. I mean, bow would I know that?"
Mrs. Dodds took two deep breaths. "Your grandmother doesn't know anything of the kind, Robert. I can tell by looking at your eyes. You're just imaginging it. You feel guilty, and so you imagine she knows. She doesn't know. She couldn't, not unless you told her. Did you?" She spat out the last two words harshly.
Mrs. Dodds swore inwardly. Damn it, why did she have to say that to him? Walking away from him a few steps, she stopped and turned about. "You may do as you please, Robert. You may be my friend or not. It's up to you, boy." She left the room quickly, not giving him a chance to say anything more.
She went directly to the front room and sat on the sofa and waited. If she had used the wrong psychology, he would run home to his grandmother. Well, she would see what was what.
Ten minutes passed before she was willing to accept the fact that she had failed.
That evening she lay on the sofa, a bottle of Scotch in her hands. Marie came into the room and for the tenth time admired her new watch audibly.
"Marie, damn it, shut up about the watch," Mrs. Dodds said irritably.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Dodds. I just wanted you to know how much I like it."
"What time is it?"
"Ten-thirty, Mrs. Dodds."
"Go to bed, Marie."
"But it's rather early for me to go to bed."
"Then go and take a walk. Anything. I don't feel like talking."
"I'd never take a walk alone at night, Mrs. Dodds. The streets are full of muggers and rapists."
"Then go to bed, damn it."
"All right. Mrs. Dodds, may I ask you something?"
"I guess so," Mrs. Dodds said crossly.
"What happened to you? You were so ... well, kind and gentle today. Now you seem to be...."
"Now I seem to be an angry old bitch, as usual. Is that what you're trying to say?"
"Of course not, Mrs. Dodds."
"Nothing happened," Alice Dodds said. "Please go to bed and leave me alone."
"All right, Mrs. Dodds. I'm sorry you don't feel good."
"I feel fine, damn it. Just fine."
Marie left the room and went to her bedroom. She closed the door as Mrs. Dodds watched her. Mrs. Dodds sat up and stretched her shapely arms high above her head. "Goddamn it," she said. "That stinker of a kid has me all wound up." She had three more lusty belts of Scotch, then went to her bedroom, where she undressed slowly, taking care to leave the light on and the window shade up. She had a feeling the boy would come back and might now be outside the window staring at her.
The thought thrilled her, and when she had removed all of her clothing, she stood naked in the middle of the room studying her body in the full-length mirror. From time to time she glanced quickly at the window, but it was very dark outside, and she couldn't have seen him even if he was there, which she knew was un-likely. Still ... he might be.
She spent twenty minutes parading about the room naked and was about to give up on him when she heard a sound outside the window. Her pulse racing, she walked deliberately to the window, facing it, and thrust her loins outward. She knew that if she let him catch a glimpse of her cunt he would become frantic and signal to her-provided, of course, it was actually the boy. She knew she was taking a big chance; it might be a prowler outside instead. Well ... she had the gun and....
She moved back a little from the window and, as she did so, heard a faint tapping sound on the glass. She grabbed up her gown more by instinct than anything else, slipped it on and stood peering at the window. She couldn't see anyone yet. She waited, and sure enough, the sound was repeated. Slowly and with her heart hammering, she went to the window and quietly raised it.
"Mrs. Dodds," came the whispered words, "can I come in?"
"Who is it?" she asked softly.
"It's me, Robert. Can I crawl through the window?"
She pretended to be uncertain, but then when he repeated the request, she nodded and replied softly, "Yes, but be careful not to make any noise. I don't want my servant to know about us."
The boy came through the window quickly, so quickly it started her. He wore jeans, a dark shirt and tennis shoes, and there was something about this garb that tickled her sense of the ridiculous. Had any other woman ever had such an absurd lover? She smiled broadly. "Hi," he said in a low tone.
She closed the window and pulled the shade down quickly. "Hello, Robert," she whispered. "We must be very quiet." She was still smiling a little.
"What's funny?" he asked, shaking his long hair out of his eyes.
"Nothing, Robert. Please keep your voice down."
"All right," he whispered, his eyes riveted on her partially exposed breasts. "Boy, you sure got some pair," he said. "Can I touch them?"
"Wait, Robert." Mrs. Dodds locked the bedroom door, tested it, and nodded to herself. She glanced about the room. The shade was drawn all the way down. No one could see into the room.
"You gonna turn off the lights?" he asked, boldly for him.
"No."
He surprised her by grinning almost evilly. He surprised her further by unzipping his pants and pulling out his stiff tool. "See," he said. "I got a hard-on."
Mrs. Dodds moistened her lips. "You seem to have gotten over your shyness, Robert. What happened?"
"Nothing," he said, and pointed his erection at her.
This excited her, and she moved close to him, then stopped abruptly. "I know now why you aren't so shy, Robert," she said drily. "You've been drinking beer, haven't you?"
He looked her straight in the eye. "Yeah, I went over to a guy's house, and he sneaked out two bottles of his old man's beer."
"And this guy you're talking about," she said carefully, "did you tell him where you were going when you left him?"
"Oh, gee, no, Mrs. Dodds. I wouldn't do a thing like that."
She searched his face, his eyes. "Are you sure, Robert?"
"Yes. Honest. Can I ... do it to you ... now? I'm sure hot."
She sighed and slipped off her robe, dropping it to the floor deliberately. She went toward the bed, but he sprang across the room before she reached it, grabbed her around the waist and began rubbing his cock across her buttocks.
"Oh, gee, Mrs. Dodds, I'm so horny. Let me get on top of you, please?" he begged.
"Release me, Robert," she said firmly, but her loins were churning witb desire. "I'll tell you when you can. First, you have to take a bath."
He let go of her and stepped back. "Do I have to?" he complained.
"Yes, Robert. I insist on it."
He ground his teeth. "All right. Be right back. You get ready for me."
He left the room, and Mrs. Dodds smiled tensely. She would be ready for him. Would she ever be ready for him! She would show him a time he would never forget, not even if he lived to be a hundred years old.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE FIRST THING SHE DID WAS TO TURN on a small, dim light on a table in the corner. She then switched off the bright main light and looked about the room once again. She tugged the window shade down another inch or two. She went back and tried the door. It was locked, of course. Next she walked to the bathroom door, peered in, and saw Robert standing naked beneath the falling water. His erection had just about disappeared, but this didn't worry her; she knew the water was doing it. He would be all right the moment he stepped out from under it.
"How're you coming, Robert?" she asked softly, but he didn't hear her, apparently because of the sound of the cascading water. She let her gaze linger on his young, smooth body and stepped back away from the door. Her cunt was actually dripping. She sighed, went to the bed, and sat down on it. She found cigarettes on the bedstand and nervously lit one. She took two drags on it and put it out, got to her feet, went quickly to the mirror and looked at her lush body. The dim light made her even more beautiful, she knew. Mrs. Dodds wasn't conceited, but neither was she foolish-she knew she had a beautiful body. She lifted her breasts in characteristic fashion and let them drop back to her chest. She heard a gasping sound and whirled around.
Robert stood in the doorway, looking at her. His body was glistening with water, and his cock was standing straight up. "Gosh, you're pretty," he blurted. "Gosh!"
She turned and walked slowly and sensuously to the bed, looking sexily at him over her shoulder. "Do you really think so, Robert?" she asked, pleased by his remark.
He sprang across the room and once again wrapped his arms about her waist. She could feel his hard-on jabbing at her legs and hips.
"Robert," she said. "Please ... you're still wet. Go dry yourself."
He let go of her without a word, ran to the shower room and returned almost immediately. "Boy, you sure are pretty," he said, his eyes bulging more than previously. "I could look at you for a million years."
She glanced at his erection and an overpowering lust seized her. "Come here, Robert," she said, her voice sounding strange even to her. She sat down on the edge of the bed and he came to her eagerly, standing in front of her and looking down at her breasts in a maddening way-maddening to Mrs. Dodds. She moistened her trembling lips. "Come closer to me, Robert boy," she said softly.
He came closer to her, his penis quivering as she looked at it, only inches from her face. She took hold of it and pulled on it gently. He placed both hands on her shoulders and began to jerk his body.
"No," she told him. "Don't do that yet."
He stopped, and she rubbed his cock a little and then placed her lips about its rosy head. The thrill this gave her almost drove her out of her mind. And then ... something happened that almost caused her to scream.
There was a loud knock on the bedroom door.
Mrs. Dodds jerked back and put her fingers over her lips quickly, indicating to Robert that he wasn't to make a sound. She pointed with shaking fingers at the bathroom. Robert ran to it soundlessly and quietly closed the door behind himself. Mrs. Dodds saw the wet footprints he had made on the carpet and drew a chair over the ones close to the door. As the knock came again, she slipped into her robe and stepped to the door.
"What do you want, Marie?"
"Mrs. Dodds," the answer came back through the door, "that man is here again. He wants to see you. I can't get rid of him. Please come out and take care of him. I mean, well, you can handle him, I can't."
Mrs. Dodds swore savagely but softly. "Tell him to beat it or we'll call the police."
"I did, but he won't leave. I think he's kind of drunk."
"Is he inside the house?"
"Yes. He forced his way in."
Mrs. Dodds swore again and opened the door a crack. "Get out of the way, Marie."
Marie was dressed in her nightgown. Mrs. Dodds had never seen her in anything but daytime dresses, and was surprised, briefly, at how provoca tive Marie looked. An idea came to her immediately. She remembered the dream Marie had had.
"Listen, Marie, I'm rather ill. I don't believe I can do much about him. Can you ... er ... handle him?"
Marie gasped. "What does that mean?" Mrs. Dodds smiled thinly. "You're a woman, aren't you?"
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said harshly, "I don't like for you to speak to me that way."
"I told you, I'm a bit ill. I'm not up to handling him. You'll have to do it. I don't care how you do it, but-oh, just get rid of him, if that's what you want to do, Marie." She looked deeply into her servant's eyes.
Marie's face was white. "Very well, Mrs. Dodds. I'll call the police."
"No," Mrs. Dodds said quickly, "don't do that. The publicity-it would be terrible."
"What are you proposing I do about him them?" Marie's face was stony.
"You know what to do, damn it. You're not a child."
"Are you suggesting that I allow him to make love to me? That's ... what he's here for, you know ... to make love to you."
"I'm not suggesting anything. I simply want you to get rid of him because I'm too ill to do it."
"Mrs. Dodds, I can't. I'm afraid of that man. He looks like a murderer to me." Marie had lowered her voice.
Mrs. Dodds bit down hard on her lips. "All right, damn it." She stepped out of the bedroom quickly, closing the door carefully behind her. She saw him then; he was standing near the front door on the far side of the large room. "Stay with me, Marie," she said, and walked swiftly over to the man.
"Well, Mr. Bruiser," she said acidly, "did you come back to steal something more?"
The man flushed but looked her straight in the eyes. He pulled out her bottle of sleeping pills. "I came to give 'em back to you. I'm sorry I took 'em."
"I don't want them," she told him. "Turn around and march right out of here. You certainly have your nerve!"
He looked deep into her eyes and she easily recognized the extreme lust in his own. Ordinarily, this would have excited her, but at the moment she had something better.
"Mrs. Dodds," he said, "I'm broke and hungry. I need a place to stay. I-"
"I'm not running a charity ward, buster. Beat it."
"Please...." he said, his eyes begging now.
Despite Mrs. Dodds' ruthlessness, she had a heart that sometimes appeared to be made of butter-it had a bad habit of melting when someone was in serious trouble.
"All right." She turned to Marie, who was watching the proceedings tremulously. "Take him to the guest room upstairs, Marie. See to it he has something to eat." She turned back to Bruiser. "If you cause any trouble during the night, I'll have you arrested-do you understand? In other words, you stay in your room."
The look of lust still shone in his eyes, but he nodded and appeared to be grateful. "Thanks," he said. "I won't be no trouble to you."
Mrs. Dodds again turned to Marie. "Well ... you heard what I said, Marie."
Marie was white-faced. "Very well, Mrs. Dodds," she said tightly. "Come with me, mister." There was extreme disapproval in her tone of voice.
Mrs. Dodds watched them as they disappeared from the room. She didn't dare go back to her bedroom until the man had been given something to eat and was safely upstairs in the guest room. She asked herself wby in hell she had weakened and done this thing for a man she didn't know, and the reason came to her immediately. He had laid her, had shown her a wonderful time that day. She was, much to her annoyance, grateful to him, she discovered. Besides ... maybe the boy wouldn't work out as well tonight. Who could tell? It was nice to have a guy upstairs, just in case.
It was ten minutes before she saw Marie and Bruiser return to the room and go up the stairs. He nodded to her, looking at her oddly, but she didn't nod back. When they had disappeared up the stairs, she waited one full minute, then walked back to her bedroom door. Opening it, she immediately felt a draft of air strike her bare legs. She strode across the room to the window where the shade was flailing, and raised it. The window was wide open. She cursed and went hastily to the bathroom. The boy wasn't there. She cursed again and came back into the bedroom and kicked at a hassock in the middle of the floor. The hassock flew across the room and then rolled a few feet. Enraged, she slammed out of the room and went directly to the place where the bottle of Scotch stood. Picking it up, she took a long drink and swore again. She felt like sobbing, but she wasn't a weak woman basically, so she refrained. She sank down on the sofa and tried to control her frustration. It was difficult.
Minutes passed and Marie didn't return from the upstairs part of the house. Mrs. Dodds became at first suspicious, then jealous. "She's up there getting laid and I'm down here with nothing at all," she muttered.
One minute later she got to her feet and strode swiftly to the stairs. She went up them carefully and stopped in front of the guest room. Gently, she pushed the door open.
They were on the bed. Bruiser was on top of Marie, giving her all he had, from the looks of it. Mrs. Dodds stood there watching, her breathing coming very fast. Neither of the people on the bed was aware of her presence.
"Oh ... my goodness!" Marie sobbed.
"That's it, baby," Bruiser grunted. "Push it up to me."
"Oh ... my goodness!" Marie repeated frantically, and when she wrapped her legs around the man's back, Mrs. Dodds closed the door and leaned against it, her heart threatening to jump outside of her.
"Damn it," she muttered furiously. "I'm getting the short end tonight." All the same, it had thrilled her to watch them screwing. She was tempted to open the door and watch again, but she was afraid they would see her spying on them. She reluctantly returned downstairs and had another drink.
Finally, completely frustrated now, she went to bed and tried to sleep. Sleep was a long time in coming, but it did, eventually. She had a wild, strange dream. In it she was walking barefoot through a field, and everywhere she stepped, everywhere she looked, erect penises were protruding from the ground. She began to run joyously about the field until a great white bird swept down from the sky and picked her up in its claws and carried her high into the air. The air became so thin she could scarcely breathe....
She didn't know how long she had slept, but when she awakened with a start there was a breeze blowing across her nude body. She sat up on the bed and tried to remember if she had closed the window. She couldn't remember ir she had or not. Reaching up, she turned on the bed lamp and looked about the room. There was nothing unusual to see except the flapping of the shade against the window. She sighed, got up, went to the window and closed it.
"Is he gone, Mrs. Dodds?" came the question.
She whirled about, startled, and saw Robert standing in the semi-darkened doorway of the bathroom. He was fully dressed.
"Robert," she said, her hand at her throat, "where did you come from? Er ... I mean, why did you leave?"
"I was scared. I heard that man, talking. I thought he was your husband until I-"
"Until what?"
"I forgot. Anyway, I came back. Your lights were off, so I thought you were still out in the other room."
"I was in the bed, sleeping. You startled me just now."
"Gee, I'm sorry. I just had to come back. I'm so...."
Mrs. Dodds felt her pulse quickening again. "You're so what, Robert?" She walked to where her robe was, bent down to pick it up, slipped into it. "You're so what?" she repeated when he didn't answer.
Apparently the beer he had drunk had worn off now, and he had become shy again. She discovered she liked him better this way-it was more thrilling to have him shy and bashful.
"I'm so ... lonely," he said, obviously being evasive.
"Well, Robert, lots of people older than you are lonely, but they manage to get along." Now why in hell had she said that?
"Sure. I know. You want me to beat it?"
"I wasn't very pleased when you left the other time, Robert. I thought that very rude of you."
"Yes," he said, looking down at the floor and then up at her. "It was a dumb move." He straightened his shoulders; then, looking her straight in the eye, he continued, "Mrs. Dodds, you've changed me an awful lot. I don't know how, but I'm different than I was. Will you tell me something if I ask you?"
"Yes." She pulled her robe up around her shoulders as she saw his gaze drop to her half-exposed tits.
"You don't have no husband any more, do you?"
"No, Robert, I don't. I'm divorced."
He took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "And you need a guy ... to ... lay ... you. Is that ... right?"
Now it was her turn to take a deep breath and let it out, though she did it slowly, carefully. "What an odd thing to say, Robert. Whatever made you think that?"
"I don't know. I'm just wondering, I guess. Do you need a guy to...."
"No," she said sharply. "And don't speak that way to me ever again."
His face reddened as it usually did when he was ill at ease. "Gee, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad at me."
"Well, you did, Robert. I'm very angry." She wasn't, but she thought it would do no harm to put him in his proper place, which was down several cuts from her.
"I'm awful sorry. You want me to go now?"
She turned her gaze away from him. "You may suit yourself, Robert. You did run out on me earlier in the evening, you know. You didn't think of me at all, just yourself."
"But I was scared of that guy."
"Robert," she said, intentionally wanting to shock him, "what is it you want from me? Say it in plain language."
"Gee, I can't talk like that to you, Mrs. Dodds."
"Yes, you can. Say it. What is it you want?"
He blushed, looked down. "I want to lay you again, like last time."
"How do I know you haven't already talked about it to your friend, the one who gave you the beer?"
"I haven't said a word," he blurted, and somehow she knew he was telling the truth-he simply wasn't artful enough to lie successfully to her.
"And you want to ... lay me, Robert, like last time?"
His face was very red now, but he stared straight at her. "Yes, Mrs. Dodds. I'm almost going crazy."
She smiled. This was exactly the way she wanted him to be. "Robert," she asked softly, "are you really that hot and bothered?"
He came closer to her, his face twisted out of shape. "Just look at me," he said, his voice shaking. "You can see I'm almost nuts, just looking at you."
Mrs. Dodds went to the bed and sat down in a sexy pose. "Robert, do you have a hard-on now?"
He rushed over to her and fell against her, knocking her down on the bed. In an instant he was on top of her, pumping his loins, not caring, evidently, that his throbbing organ wasn't even inserted.
Mrs. Dodds rolled away from him and held him off, but it took all her strength to do it. "Robert," she said angrily, "I'll tell you when you may begin. Don't you ever rush me like that again. If you do, I'll never let you ... lay me again."
He raised himself up from the bed, looking shamefaced and embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he told her humbly. "I just got so excited I didn't know what I was doing."
She brushed her tangled black hair out of her eyes. "Very well, I accept your apology. You must try to behave yourself, you know."
"I guess I'd better go home," he mumbled, "'fore you get real mad at me."
"No," she said quickly-too quickly, she realized. "I mean ... you may if you wish, Robert." Mrs. Dodds took great pains, however, to allow her robe to fall open, exposing her cunt to him as she lay back against the pillow.
His eyes became mere slits as he stared at her pussy and moistened his lips repeatedly. "I see ... you," he muttered. "I see you." The sweat on his face was running down at a remarkable rate of speed.
"What ... do you see, Robert?" she asked, her lips parted.
"I see you. I see you."
"Yes, but what is it you see?" Her heart was pumping furiously now as she watched him in utter fascination.
"I see your ... thing."
"Robert, it's not a 'thing'. What is it? Say the word."
"I see your ... cunt," he muttered thickly.
Mrs. Dodds smiled with satisfaction. How wonderful it was to force him to say the words he was afraid of saying. "Yes," he said softly. "And what's that you have between your legs, Robert?"
"My thing," he said, breathing harder now.
"No, not your 'thing', Robert. What is it?"
"Cock," he said, but didn't look at her now.
"What ... do ... you ... do ... with your cock, Robert?"
He was blushing so deeply now she thought he was going to melt. "I ... er ... I know what I want to do," he said with sudden fierceness.
Mrs. Dodds' excitement was fully equal to his. "And what is that, Robert?"
He sobbed it. "I want to stick it in!"
"Stick it in what, Robert?" she asked, enjoying teasing him immensely.
"Stick it into your cunt," he blurted.
Mrs. Dodds had risen partially, and now she sank back on the pillow again and looked at the boy from beneath half-closed eyelids. "Come here, boy," she said softly.
Apparently he hadn't heard her. "What?"
"I said, come here, boy."
He moved to her quickly. She held up her hands hastily, indicating she didn't want him to jump all over her again.
"I'm going crazy," he sobbed. "I'm just going crazy."
"Take down your pants, Robert," she told him.
He pulled them down swiftly, also his shorts. She looked at his quivering rod and sighed deeply.
"All right, Robert boy, you may lay me now, as you put it."
She had no sooner spoken the words than something resembling a cyclone struck her, landed on her, and began pumping at her. By sheer luck he had made tbe insertion all the way. Moaning and groaning, he worked in her, and she adjusted her body to receive him better.
"Oh!" he gasped. "Mrs. Dodds ... you ... I love you!"
She did as she had done before. Clasping her hands together behind her neck, she lay there, holding her loins high, smiling strangely and allowing the hot young body to batter hers.
CHAPTER SIX
THERE ARE ALWAYS MANY QUESTIONS to be asked about women of Mrs. Dodds' type. What makes them tick, really? What is it that causes desire to take over in them? Why are they different from most other women in that they will go to any lengths to obtain sexual gratification? What, for example, did Mrs. Dodds find in this young boy that satisfied her far more than any grown man ever had?
Had she been the sort of woman who asked such questions of herself, it is almost a foregone conclusion that she couldn't have found a satisfactory answer. Mrs. Dodds wasn't really interested in understanding herself; her interest lay solely in gratifying her desires. That was it with her, and nothing more.
It was the following noon that she went to the kitchen to speak to Marie. She hadn't seen Sam Bruiser since getting up (the boy had, of course, got up and gone home after their sex session). She was interested in finding out what Marie would have to say about the man.
Marie was busy cooking something when Mrs. Dodds went to the kitchen. The servant turned about when her employer entered.
"Oh, Mrs. Dodds, you finally got up, I see. I'll bet you're hungry after not having any breakfast."
Mrs. Dodds noticed the flushed look on Marie's face. It was a look of guilt, and it caused Mrs. Dodds to smile. She decided to have a little fun with her servant. "I'm just wondering about something, Marie," she said.
"Oh ... what's that?"
"When you took Mr. Bruiser upstairs last evening ... you know, I waited quite a while for you to come back down. You didn't. What on earth were you doing up there so long?"
"I ... er ... had to make the bed, Mrs. Dodds. There were no blankets, pillow slips, nothing. I had taken them off a few days ago."
"I see. What are you cooking?"
"That man ... he ... er ... said he likes chicken soup."
"Wonderful," Mrs. Dodds said drily. "I take it, then, that he's still with us."
"Yes. He's still in bed. He's ... er ... rather ill."
"Really? From overexertion, no doubt."
Marie blushed again. "I don't know what's the matter," she mumbled.
"Well ... you take the soup up to him when it's ready, Marie. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
"He isn't such a bad man after all, Mrs. Dodds. I misjudged him. I...."
"I agree with you ... somewhat."
Marie began dishing up the soup. When she finished, she turned to her employer. "I have to take this up to him now. When I come back, I'll fix some for you, Mrs. Dodds."
Marie blushed again and left the kitchen. Mrs. Dodds sat down and laughed. "Who the hell does she think she's kidding?" she muttered, and laughed again. "I never saw her so excited. I'll bet she hasn't worried about Glen living with his mother since last night."
"What ... did ... you ... say, Mrs. Dodds?" Marie asked from the doorway.
Mrs. Dodds glanced up in something approaching confusion. "Damn it, Marie, you sneaked up on me. Okay, so you heard what I said. It's true, isn't it?"
"What's true, Mrs. Dodds?" Marie asked, her face strained.
"Oh, come off it, Marie. I know you got laid by that bum last night."
"That's not true," the servant replied indignantly.
"The hell it isn't. I saw you."
Marie's eyes went wide. "You didn't!"
"Yes, I did. Sorry. I wondered what was keeping you so long, so I went up to look for you. The door was open a crack, and I saw him on top of you."
Marie flounced out of the room and didn't return for five minutes. When she did, her face was wet.
"Damn it, Marie, don't get into a huff. So I saw you. What about it?"
Marie sank down across the table from her employer. "I don't know what's come over me, Mrs. Dodds. I'm just like ... putty in his hands. He can do anything to me, and I can't resist him."
"Good heavens, how long did you remain in bed with him last night?"
"All night long. I never slept a wink. He wouldn't let me."
Mrs. Dodds considered her next question careful ly, then decided to ask it. "Was it like ... your dream, Marie?"
Marie's face reddened again. "Y-yes ... and more. But it wasn't awful like it was in the dream. It was ... wonderful. I...."
"Good for you, Marie. That's the way to live. You want this guy, you take him. Don't hold back."
"But I ... I thought you'd be very angry. I thought you kind of wanted him."
"Well ... I did once, but not now." Mrs. Dodds paused, thought about what she had said, and nodded. "Yes, that's right. I sort of wanted him once-not very much, though."
"I wish he could live here with us, Mrs. Dodds. Couldn't you give him ajob? "
"I offered him a job once, but he turned if down, as I recall."
"I want him so much," Marie said wistfully.
"What about Glen?"
Marie made a deprecatory sound, with her mouth. "I don't want him. He can stay with his mother, for all I care."
"Funny creatures, we women. Last night you were scared to death of Sam. You thought he looked like a murderer, and I don't know what all. Today ... well, today you're all gone on him. Funny."
"Yes," Marie said softly. "Life is funny, Mrs. Dodds. I know one thing-I never really lived till last night."
"Be careful, Marie. Don't let yourself go too far overboard. You might drown."
Marie rubbed her eyes. "Sure," she sighed. "I know, Mrs. Dodds. I'm probably ten years older than he is."
"I didn't mean that, Marie. I meant ... well, he's a drifter. That type of man comes and goes without reason."
"Yes, I know that, too. I don't care."
Mrs. Dodds shrugged. "It's your life, Marie, enjoy it. That's all I have to say."
"Mrs. Dodds, you're very nice to me. Thank you."
"Oh, the hell with that stuff. I'm not nice. I'm a hollering old bat."
"No, you're not, Mrs. Dodds. You're a nice, kind woman. You've had a lot of trouble, that's all. I know all about you. I know about that louse you were married to, also."
This was the first time Mrs. Dodds had ever heard Marie say anything against Charles, her ex-husband. It pleased her to know that someone understood that the trouble between Charles Dodds and his wife was not altogether of her doing.
"Well, it's all over with, Marie. We're divorced, and I'm glad of it. I don't want to talk about Charles."
"I'm sorry for bringing him up, Mrs. Dodds."
"That's all right. I don't mind, not really."
'I'll say this, then I'll shut up about it-you were too good for Charles Dodds."
"Thanks, Marie, now will you kindly knock it off and give me a bowl of your chicken soup?"
It was Sunday, and Mrs. Dodds was uneasy on Sundays. She never understood why-there was just something about the day that always made it seem dead. Perhaps it was because the shops were closed downtown. Perhaps the traffic outside the house on Smith Street was lighter than usual and made the day seem dreary and lifeless. At any rate, she didn't care for the period between Saturday and Monday, and was always relieved when the day was over and done with.
She sat in the front room that evening watching television but not enjoying it much. The programs were all geared to children, she felt, and she preferred adult fare. There seemed to be nothing else to do, however, so she tried to content herself with watching the screen. After a time, she turned the set off and lay down on the sofa, her favorite spot when alone.
She hadn't seen Sam Bruiser all day. Marie had said he wasn't feeling well, but Mrs. Dodds didn't believe that. Marie had spent a good deal of her time upstairs all day and had told her employer that the place needed cleaning badly, another bit that Mrs. Dodds didn't believe. She knew that Marie was up there letting the man make love to her. Mrs. Dodds smiled now, thinking about it. She was vastly astonished at Marie, who had never, to Mrs. Dodds' knowledge, been sexy or man-crazy.
"I hope she has a ball," she muttered. "I wish I had my ... lover in the house all day long." She smiled, thinking about the boy as her lover, but damn it, that's what it amounted to. He was not only her current lover, but also the most exciting one she had ever known. She had wondered about this a good deal but had arrived at no further conclusions about it. It was just that she liked them young, she supposed, and he was certainly young.
"Too young," she muttered, and was astonished at herself for putting it into words.
Just the same, she knew she was going to have to handle him with extreme care, if she didn't want to end up in prison. This sort of thinking made her nervous, and to conceal it, to cover it up, she got the bottle and had a long drink from it. She knew she was drinking a good deal more than usual these days. This, too, was something that needed to be handled with care.
She heard footsteps, and glanced at the stairs quickly. Bruiser was coming down, so she sat up straight and put the bottle down. He came directly over to her, "I want to thank you for letting me stay all night ... and all day, too," he said, eyeing her oddly.
She looked at him coolly. "You leaving now?" she asked.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "That's what I wanted to talk about. You still have that job open?"
She waved her hand. "You want to stay here with Marie, is that it?" She watched him carefully for his reaction.
"Yeah."
She arched her brows. "Just that? Yeah?"
"I mean ... yes, thank you."
"I happen to know you made love to her last night, Mr. Bruiser. Just don't get any wild ideas about her."
"Such as what?" he asked, his massive jaw sticking out a bit too far.
"I'll tell you when I think of something," she told him. "Right now, please go back upstairs. I prefer being alone."
"You mad at me or something?"
"No. Why should I be?"
"For making love to your maid."
"That's her business, not mine." She had deliberately refrained from saying it was his business.
"Listen, Mrs. Dodds," he said after looking around and at the stairway, "if you want a little, let me know."
"Get the hell out of here!" she yelled. "Hurry up!"
His rugged face fell. "Oh ... sorry ... didn't mean to offend you."
"Get the hell out of here," she repeated.
He bowed and walked quickly to the stairs. She watched him ascend them until he had disappeared from view. "The silly ass," she muttered. "The damn silly ass." He had his nerve, patronizing her in her own house.
Mrs. Dodds had resigned herself to going quietly to bed alone tonight. The boy had told her his grandmother would probably insist upon his going to bed early so as to be rested up for school on Monday morning. At the time, this bit of information had caused her to smile. Now, as the evening wore on in all its dullness, the remark didn't seem so humorous. The truth was, she hated the thought of going to bed without first having the boy. He had become almost an obsession with her. A dozen times a day she would go over in her mind each little detail of his body, and the way he acted and reacted when he was sexually stirred up.
When she finally got up and walked to her bedroom, a great uneasiness had come over her. She was tempted to go for a walk, to pass by his house down the street, to look in and perhaps catch a glimpse of him. She rejected this as being too dangerous. He might see her, might come running to the door and maybe even call out to her. After all, he was only a teen-ager, and he had the judgment of one.
She sighed and drew off her clothing and stood naked in the center of her room. The mirror was near, so she went to it and examined her body without too much interest. She wondered if the boy thought about her body, and she suspected he did. She hoped he did.
She put on a pair of baby-doll pajamas, creamed her face, wiped it off carefully, brushed her hair and went to the bed. She lay there thinking for a time and finally reached up and turned off the light. Turning on her side, she tried to go to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. She had a feeling she had forgotten something. It came to her then and she climbed out of bed, unlocked the window and raised it an inch. She did this just in case Robert would take it into his head to pay her a visit she wanted to make it easy for him should she happen to fall asleep. She returned to bed, closed her eyes and in time did go to sleep. She dreamed.
It was much the same dream as before. She was walking barefoot through a field of erect penises, and each time she stepped on one, moisture spurted on her ankles. In the dream she had become tremendously excited, until she saw the large white bird heading for her. This time the bird didn't try to pick her up and carry her off. This time the bird tried to knock her down and finally succeeded in doing so. She struggled to get out from under the bird, but he was too strong for her. She felt the bird attempting to do something to her and....
And she awakened to feel the heavy, powerful body of a man on top of her. She nearly screamed but held it back. She could tell by the smell of him that it was Sam Bruiser.
"Get off me!" she cried.
"Lie still," he muttered in her ear as she struggled to get out from under him. "Ain't no broad gonna give me the old heave-ho."
He thrust at her, and the penetration was made. She tried fruitlessly to expel the hardened tube of flesh, but couldn't do it.
"Lie still, damn you," he growled. "You want it, I know you do. You're the hottest broad in town."
"Get off me," she said again. "I'll tell Marie if you don't."
"Tell her. Who cares? She don't mean nothing to me, doll."
"Damn you," she said. "I don't want you to."
He paid no attention to her protest but kept on moving within her. In spite of herself, she could feel things slowly beginning to happen to her-little shivers of excitement passed through her body.
"Baby," he growled in her ear. "You're the best. You got the wettest but the tightest cunt I ever stuck it into."
Mrs. Dodds had ceased to struggle. There was no point to it. He was far stronger than she, and besides ... it felt good to her. She tried not to show this, tried to conceal from him that she liked it. She didn't want to give him the upper hand so he could use it in the future. This man was just a bum, and she was a woman of property ... all this ran through her mind, but in the final analysis she knew none of it meant a thing.
"Oh!" she gasped, and could have bitten her tongue off.
"That's it, doll. Enjoy it. I'm gonna fix you up great. Man, what a lay you are. You drive me nuts!"
"Get on with it," she said softly, her face now pressed against his head.
He lifted his head and kissed her on the mouth, darting his tongue at hers in the same in-and-out rhythm he was using below. This nearly drove her frantic. Desire spread through her like wildfire and she found herself helping him by moving her loins up to meet his downward thrust. He battered her unmercifully, and the longer it lasted the better she liked it. Finally, she had a violent, reverberating orgasm that almost made her scream, but somehow she held the scream back and dug her nails into his back, scratching him severely. He paid no attention to this, either, but continued to hump her furiously. Then she felt him hit his high point, and his body-while still pumping-jerked convulsively, and she felt him shudder and release his fluids within her. He kept on pumping for a time, then slowly stopped and lay limply on top of her.
She said nothing. She didn't move.
Suddenly he tore his body away from hers, and she heard him spring off the bed and stumble through the dark to the door. He left the room quickly, and Mrs. Dodds lay there, her body soaked with his perspiration and her own. It was ten minutes before she got up and bathed, noting sourly that the man had had an unpleasant odor about him, as if he hadn't bathed in a week.
She dried her body on a coarse towel and wasn't sure if she was angry or not. Giving the wet towel a toss into the clothes hamper, she returned to the bedroom and switched on the light. Going to the mirror, she looked at her nudity and a moment later turned away from it.
"Mrs. Dodds," came the whisper, "can I come in?"
She whirled about and stared at the window. Robert's face was pressed against it-she could see that much of him and no more. Her heart gave a great leap, and she drew on her robe hastily, went to the window, and raised it.
"Robert," she said softly, "how long have you been standing here?" She was actually fearful that he might have witnessed what had happened even though it had been pitch-dark in the room.
"Couple of minutes. Had to wait till my grandmother went to sleep."
"Come in," she said. "Don't make any noise."
He entered swiftly, and she went to the door and quietly locked it. She placed her finger over her lips, but he appeared not to see this. He stared at her breasts, her robe having fallen open, wet his lips, and pressed on his concealed sexual organs.
"Boy, you sure look pretty," he said loudly.
"Robert," she whispered, "don't talk so loud. Someone might hear you."
"Oh," he said more softly. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Is that man still here?"
She glanced at him sharply. Now what did he mean by that remark? "There are others in the house, Robert," she told him evasively. "We must be very careful and quiet."
"Sure," he said. "Hey, you sure look pretty. Your hair's all wet. You just take a bath?"
"Yes."
"You gonna let me lay you, Mrs. Dodds?"
She smiled at him nicely. "I love the way you say that, Robert. It sends a chill right up my back."
"You send chills up my back, too. You gonna lie down there now and let me?"
She smiled again. "You seemed to have gotten over some of your shyness, Robert. You haven't been drinking beer again, have you?"
"Yeah. Me and Joe had a few bottles."
"Oh ... and who is Joe?"
"Joe's that guy I told you about. He's a swell guy, Mrs. Dodds."
"I see. How old is Joe?"
"I don't know. Older than me."
"Robert," she said carefully, "when you're drinking beer with him, you don't forget yourself and talk about me ... me and you, do you?"
He didn't meet her gaze. "Well ... gee, no ... what do you think I am?"
"Robert," she said carefully again, "don't you ever mention me to him or to anyone else."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because of your age, Robert. You aren't old enough to-well, you know what I mean."
"You mean I ain't old enough to lay you?"
"Not legally," she told him. "There's a law against an older person having sexual relations with a younger one."
"That's a funny law. A guy likes to lay his girl. So she's older than him. What's wrong with that?"
It pleased her immensely to hear him call her his girl, and she almost giggled as she moved toward the bed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE SWITCHED OFF THE LIGHT AND LAY down, after taking off her robe. Her stomach muscles were quivering as they always did when she was anticipating his hot, young body going above hers. She felt the moisture trickling down her thighs, and the feeling came to her that this time it was going to be the best ever.
"Hurry, Robert," she said softly. 'I'm waiting for you."
She heard him gasp, then heard another sound, as though he was lifting the window higher.
"Robert, what are you doing?"
He didn't reply and she heard another gasp from him, then she tbought she saw the outline of his body crawling out the window. She reached up for the bed lamp chain but couldn't find it for a moment or two, and when she did she gave it a pull and sat up straight in bed. She couldn't believe her senses.
Robert wasn't in the room. He had crawled through the window and was gone. Frowning and thoroughly mystified as well as somewhat annoyed, she climbed out of bed and slipped into her robe. Going to the window, she leaned out and tried to see him. It was very dark out and she could see nothing except the street lights and those of several houses on the next block. Puzzled by his strange actions, she pulled her head inside the room and swore softly.
"What's the matter with him?" she muttered. "Did he see something outside that scared him away?"
What else could it be? He must have thought he saw someone at the rear of her house, something of that nature. Mrs. Dodds swore again and stood tapping her teeth with her fingernail. She was extremely annoyed now. Just when she had been thoroughly aroused and ready to take him in wanton abandon, he had cut out on her.
"Crazy thing," she muttered. "The whole damned world is crazy."
She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to return. After twenty minutes, during which time she smoked three or four cigarettes, she knew she wouldn't sleep any more this night. Sighing, she got to her feet and left the room. She found the bottle-she had left the lights on in the front room, she discovered-and had a long pull at it. The whiskey made her feel somewhat better but not enough. She had another drink and still another one. The more she drank, the hotter she became. Mentally, she pictured Robert's erect penis and could almost feel the hardness of it buried inside of her. She threw herself down on the sofa and began to writhe her hips about in an agonized manner.
"I can't stand it," she muttered. "That kid's got me all worked up. I've a notion to go look for him."
She pulled open her robe and ran her hand over her cunt. A thrill passed through her, streaking up and down her spine. Mrs. Dodds became panicky for a moment. "Am I losing my marbles over that kid?" she muttered. "Never felt like this in my life!"
She got up quickly and hurried to the bedroom. Again, she put her head out the window and tried to see. There was nothing to see but the lights on the next street. She swore and yanked her head back inside the room, knocking the top of it against the window. It hurt, and she swore again. She rubbed her head until the pain left, then she stomped angrily back to the front room and once again threw herself prostrate on the sofa. Grabbing up the whiskey bottle, she finished it off, swore still again, and got up to get another bottle from behind the bar. A bottle of Scotch was missing, and she knew who had taken it, of course. Only one person could have done it-Sam Bruiser.
Thinking of him sent her mind to speculating. What if she marched boldly up to his room and brazenly threw her naked body on top of his? How would that be? She knew he could satisfy her somewhat. It wouldn't be as thrilling as the act with the boy, but it was better than nothing, wasn't it?
But what about Marie? Would she be in bed with the man? Mrs. Dodds had a pretty good idea she would be.
She carried the bottle back to the sofa and for the third time lay down, opened the bottle and took a long swallow of the stuff. She was getting high now, but who cared if she got high or not? Certainly not Robert Loring, certainly not Sam Bruiser or Marie ... or-she had to face it-anybody.
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said from the stairway, "are you all right?"
Alice sat up quickly and pulled her robe together. "Of course I'm all right," she snapped. "Why the hell shouldn't I be?"
Marie came all the way down the stairs. "Mr. Bruiser," she said, her voice catching, "has gone, Mrs. Dodds."
"Yeah? Well, he's up to his old tricks. Stole a bottle of my good Scotch."
Marie came close to her, her robe flapping open. Mrs. Dodds averted her eyes when she saw Marie had nothing on beneath the robe.
"I'm so worried about him," Marie said.
Mrs. Dodds eyed her servant sharply. "You're all shook up over that guy, aren't you?"
"I guess so. I guess I'm just a fool, Mrs. Dodds."
"Yeah? Well, who the hell isn't a fool these days?"
Marie sat down nervously on the end of the sofa. Her robe fell open, exposing her breasts. Funny, Mrs. Dodds had never seen her servant like this before. Never once had Marie appeared in front of her dressed only in a robe.
"Here, Marie, damn it. Take a few drinks. It'll help you forget that louse."
"He isn't a louse. He's just irresponsible."
"Call it whatever you like. I say he's a louse." She looked at her servant hard. "Tell me, Marie. How much money did he take from you before he left?"
Marie's eyes grew wide. "Why, how did you know that?"
Mrs. Dodds snorted. "That guy wouldn't leave without money. How much did he take?"
"He didn't take it, Mrs. Dodds. He just borrowed it. Twenty dollars."
Mrs. Dodds nodded. "Well, don't worry about him. Twenty bucks isn't much. Soon as he spends it, he'll be back."
"Do you really think he'll come back?"
Mrs. Dodds reached down and patted Marie's arm. "Sure, he will. Now, stop worrying about that man. He's not worth it."
"I can't help it. He excites me so."
"Sure, I know how it is."
Marie got a strange look in her eyes. "You don't want him, too, do you?" she asked anxiously.
Mrs. Dodds laughed. "Hell no. Stop worrying about him."
"You're so much prettier than I am, Mrs. Dodds."
"Stop talking that way. Don't ever put yourself down."
"That man has got me ... so hot ... I don't know what to do, Mrs. Dodds." Marie began to sob.
Mrs. Dodds said nothing but, reaching down, stroked her servant's hair momentarily. She understood perfectly how Marie felt. Why shouldn't she understand? She felt the same way about the kid.
"Marie," Mrs. Dodds said, "he'll be back, and you can crawl in bed with him plenty of times. So stop crying, will you, please?"
"Oh, Mrs. Dodds, you don't understand. I'm going half mad with desire ... right now." Marie's robe was now all the way open, and Mrs. Dodds was beginning to wonder about her a little.
"Marie," she said, "pull your robe together. I'm not a man."
Marie got a startled look on her plain face. "What?" she mumbled.
"Pull your robe together. You're exposing yourself."
Marie began to cry again. "I don't care if I am. I don't care about anything!"
Mrs. Dodds sighed. Well, why not? "Come here. Marie," she said firmly.
"What?"
"I said, come here, Marie. Maybe I can help you a little. I don't go for queer stuff, but then...."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, the hell with it. I don't want to, anyway." She didn't.
"Mrs. Dodds, thank you just the same. May I ... have that drink now?"
"Help yourself. Get drunk, if you like. I don't mind."
"You're very nice to me, Mrs. Dodds."
"No, I'm not, damn it. I wish you'd stop saving that."
"Just the same," Marie said with surprising firmness, "you are nice. You're the nicest person in the world."
"My husband didn't think so," Mrs. Dodds said without thinking.
"You husband was a mean, cold, vicious man, Mrs. Dodds."
"Oh, the hell with him. Take your drink."
Marie lifted the bottle to her mouth, drank, choked and panted for breath for a few moments. "Whew, that's strong stuff! How do you get it down?"
"Wash it down with water. Go get yourself a glass of it."
The two women sat side by side on the sofa drinking for nearly an hour. Marie, Mrs. Dodds noticed, was becoming very silly and high. Mrs. Dodds herself wasn't as high as she had been at first. Her system seemed to have caught up with her bloodstream's alcoholic content.
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said thickly, "what did you mean when you said you might be able to help me?"
"Forget it. I didn't mean it. I just ... felt sorry for you."
"You're very nice to me."
"Damn it, stop talking like that-and I'm not going to tell you again."
"Is it ... is it wrong for two women to ... do things to ... one another, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Oh, come on now. How the hell would I know if it's wrong or not?"
"Would you ... mind if I touched you?"
Mrs. Dodds sighed. "You start that business and it'll ruin you, Marie."
"I don't care," Marie said fiercely. "I'm going crazy."
"Well, go up to your room and go crazy by yourself. I want no part of it."
A sly look came into Marie's eyes. "You're not fooling me, Mrs. Dodds. You're just as hot as I am. I can tell."
"So what if I am? I have a right to be hot too. You don't have a monopoly on it."
Marie's eyes brightened. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if two big strong burglars broke in and raped both of us?"
"Go to bed, Marie. You're drunk."
"I'm not drunk. I'm just hot and bothered."
"Being drunk is a form of insanity, and being hot and bothered is another form of the same thing, Marie, believe me. When you're highly passionate, you're insane for the moment."
"Is that true?"
"Hell, yes. anybody knows that."
"I didn't know it."
"Why do you think there's so much hatred and killing and bigotry and bloodshed in the world? It's because nature goofed. At the precise moment of a baby's conception both parents are temporarily insane, so we can't expect people to act any better than they do."
"You're awfully smart, Mrs. Dodds."
"No, I'm not. Nothing very smart about what I just said. Any fool ought to know that."
"I never heard that before, about nature goofing, I mean." Marie's tongue seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth.
"Big deal. Probably just a lot of nonsense."
"What?" Marie said thickly.
"Marie," Mrs. Dodds said patiently, "don't you think you'd better go to bed? Your speech is so thick I can hardly understand you."
Marie smiled strangely and suddenly placed her head on her employer's lap. "Let me lie here like this, please?" she begged.
Mrs. Dodds was startled. "Get up, Marie. First thing you know we're going to turn queer. I don't happen to care for it."
Marie didn't move but gazed up at Mrs. Dodds strangely. "What if we do? What else do we have?"
"What is it you want to do, Marie?"
"I think I'd like to ... kiss you, Mrs. Dodds."
"Kiss me, my foot. Say it. What do you want?"
"I'd ... I'd like to run ... my ... tongue over your ... "
Mrs. Dodds felt a trickle of sweat run down her face. "Over my what?" she asked, knowing she was pursuing something that could turn out to be not at all to her liking.
"You want me to say it right out?"
"Don't beat around the bush. Say it?"
"I'd like ... very much ... to suck you, Mrs. Dodds."
Mrs. Dodds stood up suddenly. "Go to bed, you fool!" she said angrily. "You're drunk."
Marie sat up and rubbed her eyes. "You're mad at me, aren't you, Mrs. Dodds? Does this mean you're going to fire me?"
"Go to bed, damn it. I'm not going to fire you."
"Please ... let me sleep with you, please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No. Go to your room, Marie."
Her servant began to cry so loudly that Mrs. Dodds was tempted to strike her. "Marie," she said softly, "come to bed with me, damn it, but don't start any funny stuff or I'll beat your head off."
They lay together in Mrs. Dodds' bed with Mrs. Dodds taking care that her back was turned to the servant. Mrs. Dodds had pajamas on, but Marie was naked and this bothered Mrs. Dodds more than she cared to admit.
Much to her relief, Marie fell asleep almost immediately and in a short time was snoring so loudly it almost drove Mrs. Dodds nuts. She finally got up from the bed, carried a blanket into the front room and lay down on the sofa. She tried to go to sleep but sleep, despite all the whiskey she had consumed, wouldn't come. She wished she had those sleeping pills the bum had stolen from her. She swore for the umpteenth time that evening and finally got up and turned on the TV set. There was a late movie on, and she went back to the sofa and lay watching it. The movie was circa 1940, and the people in it were dressed like nightmares. It had something to do with a newspaper guy who was trying to figure out who killed someone, and he was a hell of a lot smarter than the police, who seemed to be a pack of morons. Mrs. Dodds thought it was one of the worst things she had ever watched, but there was nothing else to do. Or was there?
She rose up quickly. "Hey," she muttered. "Don't start thinking like Marie." She was amazed at herself for having even briefly entertained such an idea. Maybe what she had said was true after all. Maybe extreme passion did make raving maniacs out of people.
Mrs. Dodds knew one thing-if a strange man were to walk into the room at that precise moment., she would do anything to him that he wanted. Anything at all, it made no difference who he was or what he looked like. She was extremely frustrated and passionate. She closed her eyes, and the dream she'd had came to mind. She could see herself walking in the field of erect penises. She opened her eyes and shivered. "I'm cracking up for sure," she said aloud.
She tried to put sex out of her mind and concentrate on the movie, but it wasn't any easy thing for a woman of her type to do. She lived for sex, and she didn't kid herself about it. She couldn't imagine a world in which people lived without sex. Men and women in prison. What did they do? Did they all practice homosexuality? She suspected they did, though she had never known anyone who had been in prison.
She got up and reached for the bottle. She might as well drink. There was nothing else to do, damn it. Robert? Where had he gone? Why had he left in such a hurry? What had happened to him?
"Maybe I'll find out tomorrow," she muttered. With each passing day, Mrs. Dodds was doing more and more muttering to herself. She wondered if this was a form of insanity too.
From out of nowhere Marie's words came back to her. She repeated them aloud, "I'd like very much to suck you, Mrs. Dodds."
Mrs. Dodds took a hasty drink from the bottle, then slammed it down on the floor. She got to her feet and began to pace about the room. Finally, she went to the bedroom door and peered in. She could just barely make out Marie's inert form on the bed. Mrs. Dodds flicked the light on and off all in one quick motion. What she had thought was true. Marie had thrown the sheet off and was lying naked, her legs spread apart.
A bead of sweat appeared on Mrs. Dodds' brow, and she slowly went back to the sofa. No, her mind whispered, stick it out. Don't give in to your sexual longing, not that way. It will harm you in the long run.
She sank down on the sofa, had another drink, recapped the bottle and turned her attention to the movie. A commercial came on, showing a young man and girl on a beach smoking cigarettes. The girl wore a bikini and the man only swim trunks. She stared hard at the man, excited at seeing even a picture of one so nearly nude.
She was disappointed when the commercial was over and the movie took up where it had left off. She lay quietly and watched it for a while, and without realizing it dozed off to sleep for a time. She awakened and shook her head. The whiskey had befuddled her a great deal, and she repeatedly shook her head, trying to clear it.
She heard a sound somewhere; it seemed to be bedsprings creaking. She listened intently and didn't hear it again. She smiled then, for she realized what was taking place in her bedroom. Marie had awakened and was pleasing herself. Mrs. Dodds shrugged. Well, let her do what she wants. There are times when pleasing yourself is a necessity. She knew that many people thought such a thing harmful and even sinful, but she also knew that such people were badly misinformed by those who make a career of misinforming adults as well as children.
She dozed again for a brief time and again awakened. This time the sound of the bedsprings was louder. Marie must be getting desperate, she thought; drunken people often go to absurd lengths to please themselves.
Mrs. Dodds had one more drink and finally fell off into a deep slumber, the television set still playing softly.
When she awakened again it was morning, and Marie was standing near her.
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said, "I feel horrible."
Mrs. Dodds passed her hands over her eyes. "You aren't the only one. I've got a hangover myself."
"Yes," Marie said strangely, then turned and left the room.
A short time later Mrs. Dodds got up, went to the shower and stepped under the warm water. She stayed there for a long time, then dried her body and got dressed. Next she went to the kitchen and told Marie what she wanted for breakfast. It was quite a while before the servant brought the food to her in the dining room.
"Sorry for being so slow, Mrs. Dodds. I can't seem to get organized."
"That's what excessive drinking does to you, Marie."
"Yes, Mrs. Dodds. I don't think I care to try it again real soon."
Mrs. Dodds looked at the bacon and eggs, which were burned. She shrugged and began eating without saying anything.
"Mrs. Dodds, did I do anything strange last night?"
Mrs. Dodds glanced up at her. "No, not particularly. Why?"
'I have this feeling."
"What sort of feeling?" Mrs. Dodds held her breath.
"I can't quite explain it. I guess I was dreaming.
"Possibly." It was just as well to let her think she had dreamt her attempt at Lesbianism. Marie wasn't quite the type to bear up under such knowledge, Mrs. Dodds felt.
"I seemed to be lying in bed," Marie went on. "And the next thing I knew a man was on top of me, doing it to me."
Mrs. Dodds smiled. "Wishful thinking, Marie."
Marie frowned. "I suppose so. I was really all hot and bothered last night, wasn't I?"
"Sort of."
"Funny," Marie said. "This morning when I woke up my ... you know ... was very sore."
Mrs. Dodds laughed. "Maybe you used your hand on it, Marie, and too hard."
"No," Marie said. "The dream I had ... well, it wasn't a man who ... seduced me, it seems."
"Oh ... well, who was it then?"
"A real young boy ... and he had crawled in through the window to do it to me.
Mrs. Dodds felt the blood draining from her face.
"The funniest thing," Marie went on, "is that this morning I found the window wide open, and the dust on the sill had been rubbed off in places."
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS A LONG WEEK FOR ALICE DODDS, and she spent much of the time looking out the window. Catching sight of Robert had become the most important thing in her life, but Robert didn't appear in her yard or in the one adjoining. She began to wonder if he might be ill. At one point she almost called the Hart residence with the idea of making inquiries concerning him-she had contemplated saying she was one of the school authorities checking on new students. She had restrained herself, however, and didn't give in to the impulse. She didn't even know which school he attended, and she was afraid she might give herself away to his grandmother.
When Friday evening rolled around, she was almost beside herself with longing for him. She knew this was an unhealthy situation, being so taken up with a mere boy, but for the life of her she couldn't get him out of her mind.
Marie had gone out for the evening. She had said she was going to visit her sister who lived on the opposite side of the city.
Sam Bruiser hadn't been to the house all week long, and for this Mrs. Dodds was grateful-she could barely tolerate the man these days. There was something about him that bothered her in a way she didn't like.
Shortly after dusk she went to her bedroom, showered, and put on her sexiest dress with a very short skirt. She chose her best nylons and deliberately selected a pair of shoes with very high heels, though she hadn't worn such shoes for quite a while, preferring the lower-heeled type. She wanted the high heels because they made her calves look especially sexy. She wanted to look as sexy as she could for Robert in case he put in an appearance. She turned down all the lights in the house until there was only a dim glow in each room. She even sprayed her bedroom with cologne. Then she went to the side window and watched for Robert.
Marie's "dream" had crossed her mind many times that week. Mrs. Dodds was certain that it had been no dream at all-she suspected that Robert had returned late Sunday night, had crawled into the bedroom through the window and had made love to the knocked-out woman on the bed, with the thought that the woman was Mrs. Dodds. It sounded as though Robert had left ... well, perhaps to get more beer ... and when he had regained his courage....
"Hold it," she said aloud. "Let's not get silly. All of this is too damned far-fetched. He knew who it was but didn't care." She bit her lips. "Well, he should have known, at least, that I wasn't the woman." This slightly annoyed her, but she wasn't really angry. A boy in passion was hardly a thinking person, even less so than an adult. "Oh, the hell with thinking about it," she muttered. "What difference does it make?"
She returned to her bedroom and arranged her hair carefully as she stood looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Then an inspiration came to her. She smiled at the idea and then giggled. She hunted through the chest of drawers until she found a piece of red ribbon. Still giggling, she tied it in her hair and turned sideways to view the effect in the mirror.
"I look like I'm eighteen, almost," she said.
She lay down carefully on the bed to note how high her skirt would creep. It showed her flesh above the nylons. Smiling with satisfaction, she climbed off tbe bed, taking care not to wrinkle her dress. She knew she looked ravishing, and it pleased her greatly. She would show Robert what it was really like to know a woman. She would, that is, if he put in an appearance.
Reaching in under her dress, she pulled down her panties, looked at them-they were snow-whiteand decided to dispense with them altogether. Seeing her without panties would probably drive Robert half mad with desire, which was the way she wanted him. Just thinking about his becoming passionate made her so. She caught her breath in anticipation of his young body joining hers. She sighed then, made a face, looked at herself and giggled.
"I'm getting childish," she said. "But, damn it, it's a hell of a lot of fun."
She went back to the dining room and peered through the side window. It was too dark now to see anything outside except the street and house lights along the block. She thought about turning on the garage light-it was outside the garage and lighted up the back yard considerably. Then she decided it might frighten him away by causing him to think she had company. No, she told herself, it's better to keep the grounds in darkness.
Time passed, and she became nervous waiting for him to show. She glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was nine o'clock. Well, it was too early for him. He would have to wait until his grandmother had gone to bed. She wished she had asked him specifically at what hour his grandmother retired for the night, but she hadn't. All she could do was wait.
Finally, she went to her bedroom and checked the window for the third or fourth time. It was unlocked and up a few inches. He could easily crawl in just as he had before. Perhaps she should stay in the bedroom-he might come to the window and call out softly to her, and if she was in the dining room she wouldn't be able to hear him.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed in the darkness, she waited some more. She smoked several cigarettes before she heard what sounded like a footstep outside the window. Immediately, her pulse began to race.
She went to the window quickly and leaned over. "Yes?" she said.
"Mrs. Dodds," came his soft request, "can I come in?"
Her heart leaped. "Yes, Robert, come in."
He came through the window swiftly, and she pulled the shade all the way down. Then she turned on the dim lamp on the table and looked at him.
"Hi, Mrs. Dodds," he said, looking sheepish.
"Hello, Robert," she said formally. "How are you?"
"Just fine." He glanced quickly at her hemline, his face turning red. "Boy, you're pretty tonight. Gee."
She smiled inwardly. "Why, thank you, Robert. That's very sweet of you. I've missed you. Where did you go Sunday night? You left so unexpectedly."
He looked momentarily puzzled. "Oh, you mean the first time. Why, I ... I got scared, I guess. I'm an awful coward, Mrs. Dodds. I just got scared and beat it."
She considered her next remark carefully, then said, "But you came back later, didn't you?"
He flushed. "Well ... not exactly. I ... er ... started to come in the window, but I didn't. I went home instead. I...."
The question was, should she pin him down about it or not? She knew perfectly well-his manner seemed to indicate it-that he had returned and crawled on top of Marie, but perhaps he really didn't know it was her.
"Robert, when you left the first time ... did you go and drink more beer?"
"Yes. How did you know that?"
"I guessed it."
"You're awful smart, Mrs. Dodds."
She smiled at him. "Thank you, Robert. How did school go this week?"
He made a face. "I don't like school. Kid stuff."
She arched a brow at him and looked at him seductively from beneath her dark lashes. "You like adult stuff better, Robert?"
"Yes. I like being with you, Mrs. Dodds."
She turned around slowly so that he could look at her, every inch of her. Purposely, she turned her back to him so he might steal a long glance at her legs. When she turned back around to face him, she knew she had scored. His face was a study in youthful lust.
"You like the way I look, don't you, Robert?"
"Oh boy, I'll say I do. You're so pretty."
"You mean, don't you, that I'm sexy-looking?"
"Yes. Sexy-looking. Looking at you makes me ... hard."
She smiled again. He had said it of his own accord. "How nice, Robert. May I see it?"
He surprised her a little by unzipping himself and pulling out his stiff staff. She drew in her breath at the sight of it-it seemed ages since she had seen it-then she was astonished when he quickly put it back in his pants and rezipped himself.
"Why did you do that, Robert?"
"I get all embarrassed standing here in front, of you like that," he said lamely.
"Oh ... I see...."
"You ain't mad, are you?"
"Of course not, Robert. You just surprised me, I guess."
"Mrs. Dodds," he blurted, "I told my friend Joe I'd ask you something."
A feeling of shock passed through her. "You did what, Robert?" she asked evenly, though her heart was hammering.
"Oh, don't worry. I didn't tell him who you was. I just said I had me a girl, a girl who ... let me. He wants to know if he ... can too ... sometime."
She looked at him levelly. "Certainly not, Robert. You ought to know better. I'm your girl. You wouldn't want to share me with ... some other boy, would you?"
He was blushing furiously. "No. No, I wouldn't. Not ever. I just promised Joe I'd ask. I didn't mean I wanted him to ... do it ... to you. I'll tell him I asked my girl, and she got mad at me for asking."
"Robert, you must never discuss me with him again. Do you understand? Not ever. It's very dangerous for us, both of us."
"I didn't talk about you. He doesn't know who my girl is. Honest."
"All right, Robert. We'll drop the subject, shall we?"
"Mrs. Dodds, I got to go home for a while. My grandmother ain't gone to bed yet. She's got company, and I just ran out for a few minutes. I'll come back after her company goes and she's asleep. Ts that all right?"
Mrs. Dodds felt her heart sinking, but she kept her feelings under control. What if his grandmother missed him and sent the woman who took care of her out looking for him?
"Robert, don't ever come here until she's sleeping. You'd better hurry back home right now." She hated to say that, but knew it was the wisest thing.
"All right, Mrs. Dodds. I won't be very long. Maybe I'll be right back." He went to the window and crawled through it. "Wait up for me," he said softly, and disappeared into the darkness.
Mrs. Dodds sighed and turned off the lights. She went into the front room, grabbed the bottle of Scotch, sank down on the sofa and swore. She took a drink and then another. She felt strangely uneasy but couldn't understand why. Perhaps it was because of what he had told her concerning his friend Joe. She hoped that Robert wasn't a liar. She didn't really believe he was, but he might be. Suppose he had told his friend that she was his girl. She could be in serious trouble if that was the case.
She had no more time to turn the matter over in her mind. Someone was banging on the front door. Immediately, she suspected it was Sam Bruiser. Carefully, she went to the window beside the front door and drew the curtain out of the way a bit. She didn't want to turn on the light in case it was Bruiser-that would tell him she was at home, or that someone was. (She often left her lights on when away from the house, and she thought he had probably noticed this.) She let the curtain fall back in place and moved away from the door. The banging started up again, and she swore softly.
"Might as well find out who it is," she muttered.
Opening the door a crack, she peered out.
"Mrs. Dodds, let me in." It was Sam Bruiser.
"Sorry, Mr. Bruiser. You aren't welcome here any more."
"Please, Mrs. Dodds. I'm sorry for what I did. Please let me in. I'm hungry."
"Get a job, then!" she cried angrily, and slammed the door in his face.
A moment later she heard him walk off the porch. She went back to the sofa, had another drink and lay down flat, keeping her ears tuned to any sounds that might come from the bedroom window. Robert might be here soon, or he might not be back for an hour or more. She didn't want to miss him when he came to the window again.
About five minutes later, she heard a distinct sound in the vicinity of the bedroom. Jumping up, she ran to the room in time to see Bruiser crawling through the window. She caught her breath at the nerve of the man.
"Mr. Bruiser, you climb the hell right back out that window, or I'll call the police!"
But he was already inside. He turned and leered at her. "Don't think I'd do that if I was you, Mrs. Dodds."
She turned and headed for the phone, but he caught up with her and, grabbing her, spun her around.
"Get your hands off me!" she cried angrily.
"Don't call the cops, Mrs. Dodds. Not unless you want me to tell 'em about your playmate."
Again she caught her breath but didn't change her expression. "You're out of your mind. What are you talking about?"
He grinned and worked his massive jaw around. "Your kid lover, that's what I'm talking about. I seen him leaving your bedroom by way of the window."
"Get out of my house, you scum!" she retorted. "Get out, or so help me...."
"You ain't gonna do nothin' to me, baby. I got you all wrapped up tight."
"Let go of me ... please?"
He released her. "Don't go near that goddamn phone, baby."
"I don't intend to ... now." She went to the sofa, sank down on it and looked up at him. "So ... you know. What do you want? Money?"
"Maybe. Maybe a lot of things, baby."
"Such as what?"
"Well, a little dough never hurt anyone. Then, there's you, doll. I'd like a little of you every now and then."
"How much money do you want?"
"Don't be in such a hurry, Mrs. Dodds. There's lots of time."
She bit her lips. "I want to get rid of you. How much do you want?"
"Well, you might write me a check for, say, a hundred bucks as a starter."
"This is blackmail!"
"Sure it is. You're doing something illegal too, you know."
"I'll get my checkbook."
She got the checkbook, wrote out a check and gave it to him, hating him as much as it was possible for her to hate anyone.
He stuck it in his pants pocket. "Thanks, baby. Don't worry, I ain't gonna tell no one about your screwin' the kid."
"Shut up!" she cried. "You have a filthy mouth."
He laughed. "Right you are. And how about yours?"
"I don't want to listen to you. Please leave now."
He laughed again. "You'd better say please, baby." Once again he laughed, then he walked close to her and pushed her back down on the sofa. He pointed at the front of his pants. She glanced there and saw the protrusion. It did nothing to her this time except annoy her.
"Please leave," she said stiffly.
"Why, Mrs. Dodds, you mean to tell me you're kick me out with this hard-on? Ain't you gonna do nothin' about it?"
"No. Get out of here."
"You saving yourself for the kid?"
"Will you get out of my house?" she flared.
He shrugged and rubbed his massive jaw. "Hey, what am I gonna do? Can't walk around with this thing throbbin' all over the place."
"You have money now. Go buy yourself a woman.
"Never spend money for cunt. That's somethin' my old man taught me."
She turned her face away from his leering one. He reached down and grabbed her chin and turned her face back toward him.
"Please ... leave me alone, Bruiser."
"Sure, baby, soon's I get what I want."
"I gave you money. Leave me alone."
"What's the matter? You expecting the kid back?'
"Y-yes. I can't have him seeing you here."
"He's seen me here before."
"Please ... won't you leave ... please?"
"Just as soon as you do something about this." He tapped the bulge in his pants.
"I can't," she said. "He'll be here any moment."
"That's tough, baby. That's real tough."
She bit her lips and tried to think of a way out. There appeared to be none. "I've been good to you, Mr. Bruiser," she said, changing her tone of voice. "Why can't you be good to me?"
"I'll be good to you. I'll show you a better time than any damned kid ever could."
She shook her head. "I don't want you to," she said, her voice breaking from the anger she was trying to hold back.
"The hell you don't, baby. You're always ready for a good hard cock."
"Please ... go," she said, really pleading with him now.
He laughed and shook his head. "I'll go just as soon as you've satisfied me, baby, not until."
"I can't," she wailed. "Don't you understand?"
"Sure you can. It's easy. You just go lay down on your bed, and I'll come and rap it to you. Simple stuff."
"The boy," she said hurriedly. "I don't want him ... I wouldn't want him to find out."
"Okay. We'll do it right here in the front room. Right on the sofa. How's that?"
"No."
"Yes."
She shook her head vigorously. "No!" He slapped her face so hard it almost knocked her off the sofa. "Yes," he said. "No."
He struck her again. "Yes, damn you, yes!"
She sighed. "All right. I can't fight with you. Do whatever you want to."
"That's the way to talk, baby. Now you're making sense. Where you want it?"
She misunderstood him. "Here, I guess, on the sofa."
"That ain't what I mean, baby. I mean, where?"
She was startled. "Oh ... no. I don't want to do that! Please?"
He laughed and grabbed one of her breasts, thrusting his hand inside her dress. "You wanna screw, right, baby?"
She could have cheerfully killed him had she had the means of doing it. She didn't reply to his question but looked away from him.
"I asked you a question, baby." He squeezed her breast so hard she cried out from the pain.
"I don't care what you do-just do it and get out of her," she sobbed.
"That's the way I like to hear you talk. Come on, we gotta get on your bed, baby. I'm gonna fix you up."
"Please ... do it here ... not in there."
"Nope. In the bedroom. That's where T want it."
He dragged her to the bed and slammed her down on it, hard. She lay there and watched him get ready. He lay down roughly on top of her, yanked her dress up and made a brutal insertion. He seemed to go wild then, and started slapping her face as he moved rapidly inside of her.
"Please," she begged. "Don't hurt me."
He stopped slapping her and moved even faster in her. The sweat ran off him and onto her. She would have to bathe when he finished-he smelled terrible. "How you like them apples, baby?" he grunted a few moments later, but Mrs. Dodds didn't hear him. She heard another sound, coming from the open window-the sound of Robert moaning like a wounded puppy. She had just time to catch a glimpse of the agony on his young face before he cried out and ran from her view.
CHAPTER NINE
IT WAS MIDNIGHT NOW AND MRS. DODDS was quite drunk. She had killed off the remainder of the bottle and most of another one. She lay on the sofa, one arm hanging down to the floor, her hair mussed, her dress half torn off her, the way Bruiser had left her. Her face was slightly bruised where he had cuffed her about, for he had drunk a great deal too, and was now in the shower trying to sober up, though she was hardly aware of this. Mrs. Dodds was trying to erase the memory of the boy's agony from her mind, but so far she hadn't done it. She belched and tried to sit up straight but only succeeded in falling to the floor. She remembered then that she had some Benzedrine pills somewhere in her bedroom-and that these, when taken in sufficient quantity, would sober her up. She had to crawl to the bedroom, but finally, after many attempts located the bottle of pills. She swallowed them down, using no chaser other than her own saliva. She lay on the bedroom floor for perhaps twenty minutes before the pills began to take effect. Her head cleared and her sense of balance returned, she stood up and stumbled back to the sofa and sat down. She recalled then that Bruiser had gone into the bathroom. She wished there was a lock on the outside of the bathroom door. If there had been, she would have locked the bastard in and left him there to starve to death.
Marie hadn't returned home.
Now that Mrs. Dodds was beginning to sober up, she wished she hadn't taken the pills, because the first thing she began to worry about was the boy and the fact that he had seen her getting laid by Bruiser. She knew his fifteen-year-old mind would never believe she had been forced-he would believe that she had done it willingly, and without question would hate her with all the fire of his young being.
Alice didn't want Robert to hate her-just thinking about it made her ill.
"Hey, how you doin', baby?" Bruiser called from her bedroom doorway.
She didn't answer but glanced at him quickly and saw he was naked.
"Hey, baby, what's the matter with you? You still mad at me?" He staggered into the room and fell onto the sofa, nearly crushing her. His arms went about her.
She managed to extricate herself from his grasp and get to her feet. She walked away from him, her shoulders heaving. Funny, she wanted to cry, but she couldn't. She had gone too many years without crying to be able to do so now when she needed to.
She turned to him. "You've had your fun. Will you please get the hell out of here?"
"No, I'm staying. I wanna see old Marie."
Marie took that precise moment to walk in the front door. Apparently, she took in the situation at a glance, for she walked past both of them without saying a word and started up the stairs.
"Hey, Marie," Bruiser bellowed. "Wait for me. I'm coming with you."
"No, thank you," Marie said coldly, and ascended the stairs.
"You stay right there, baby," he said to Mrs. Dodds. "I'm gonna fool around with her, and then I'll come back and please you, too."
"Don't bother, buster," she said angrily. "You ever touch me again, so help me, I'll kill you."
"Huh?"
"You heard me."
He said nothing more to her, but lurched up the stairs. When she was certain he was all the way up, she followed him to the top. There was a door at the top, with a key in it. She locked the door and smiled grimly. He would have a hard time getting back downstairs this night, unless he jumped out of an upstairs window.
Mrs. Dodds waited for thirty minutes, until she felt completely sober. Then she took a shower and put on a black dress. She applied make-up over the bruises on her face, studied herself in the mirror and decided she looked fairly presentable.
She waited a few more minutes, then left the house by the back door, walking carefully in the darkness so as not to stumble over anything. She was somewhat frightened at what she was about to do, but determined to do it anyway.
She was going to Robert's house on the chance she might see him inside, or perhaps see a light burning in an upstairs window which might indicate where he slept. She had no idea what she would do if she did find a lighted room on the second floor, but she could at least go there and see the house. Maybe she could call up to him. She wasn't positive which house it was, but she thought she knew. He had told her once that it was the third house in the next block, or at least she thought he had told her this.
Suddenly she realized she was doing a foolish thing, but she had to do it anyway-something was driving her to it. She considered walking behind the house but rejected this as too dangerous, there might be a dog. Mrs. Dodds was afraid of dogs, having been badly bitten by one when she was twelve. Heading for the street, she stopped and looked back at her house. Except for the lights downstairs, the place was dark. She wondered what Bruiser was doing to Marie in the dark and smiled grimly. That was Marie's problem, not hers.
The Benzedrine was now working on her at full tilt, and she knew it. She could tell by the way she felt. The Benzedrine gave her a great feeling of security and well-being, so much so that she had just about stopped worrying about the boy having seen her during the sexual act with Bruiser. She was certain now that if she could talk to Robert, she could convince him that she had been raped.
She walked up her driveway, her feet striking the cement making a loud noise, but she knew this was only because of the stillness of the night. When she came to the sidewalk she paused and looked up the street. There were no pedestrians or cars in sight. She proceeded up the street. She counted the houses as she walked to be sure the drug wasn't befuddling her. When she arrived in front of the third house, she glanced in. There were no lights on upstairs, but she thought she saw one at the rear of the place. She hesitated only an instant before turning up the drive.
When she arrived at the back of the house, she stopped and looked around. It was, of course, very dark, and all she could see was a light shining through a downstairs window. She went close to the window and looked in, her heart leaping when she saw Robert in his pajamas. He was lying on the bed, one hand behind his head, smoking a cigarette. He smoked awkwardly, she noted, and for some reason this endeared him to her more than ever. Perhaps because it accentuated his extreme youth.
She screwed up her courage and tapped lightly on the window glass. She saw him glance quickly at the window and snub out the cigarette. His long Hair was mussed, and he brushed it away from his eyes as he got up slowly from the bed and approached the window. He stopped short of it and leaned over to look at her. She didn't know if he saw her or not. She pressed her face against the window and saw him jump. She knew then he had seen her. He scowled and started to move away, so she tapped on the window again. He turned and came to the window, fumbled with the lock, and opened it.
"Robert," she said softly, "I must talk to you."
"Don't want to talk to you, Mrs. Dodds." His young face was defiant.
"Robert, you must try to understand. What you saw ... that man ... he forced me. I fought with him, but he was too strong."
"I don't believe it," he said flatly, still scowling.
"It's true, Robert. Please. You must believe me.
"How'd you find out where I live?"
"I remembered, you told me once."
He brushed his hair out of his eyes again, and she noted he wasn't scowling as hard. "Is that true, what you just told me-he forced you?"
"Yes, Robert. It's true."
"What was he doing in your house? Is he some relation?"
"He was supposed to be working for me, but not any more. I've fired him."
"I never saw him doing any work around there."
"I'm afraid he's just a lazy bum, Robert. He ... raped me."
"You gonna have him arrested?"
"No. I can't do that. The police might find out about us."
He scratched his head. "What you want me to do, Mrs. Dodds?"
"I want to hear you say you believe me."
His eyes looked odd. "Okay, I believe you. I'd like to kill that guy."
"You mustn't talk like that, Robert."
"I'd like to kill him," he repeated, his face flushing.
"Please," she said. "Do you suppose you could get out of the house at this hour?"
"What?" He looked puzzled.
"I mean, could you crawl out this window and come over to my place soon?"
"I don't know. Maybe I could."
"Please say you'll try."
"All right, I'll try to, Mrs. Dodds. You sure he forced you?"
"Yes, Robert, I'm sure. It's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you."
"I believe you," he said.
"Good. I'll go back to my place and wait for you. Be careful. Don't let anyone see you."
"I'll be careful. Good-bye for now, Mrs. Dodds."
"Good-bye, Robert. Remember, I'll be waiting for you."
"All right," he said. "Won't take me long."
"Good."
Mrs. Dodds moved away from the window, walked around the house carefully and out to the sidewalk. A few minutes later she entered her house through the back door and went to her bedroom. She examined the bed, decided it needed clean sheets, and made the change hurriedly. She removed her black dress and put on a shortie nightgown. She looked at herself in the mirror and thought she looked pretty good, except for the bruises on her skin.
She left the black nylons on because they made her legs look extremely sexy, and this was, of course, the effect she wanted. She brushed her hair first one way and then another and finally left it the way it had been originally. She turned off all the lights downstairs except for the dim one on the table in her bedroom.
Then she lay down on the bed and waited for her young lover. The thought came to her that she was going to have to do something drastic about Sam Bruiser, but she put this out of her mind for now. She wanted to be in the right mood for Robert, and thinking about Bruiser and what she would have to do about him didn't fit in with the mood.
It seemed like hours before she heard Robert crawling over the window sill, but actually it was less than twenty minutes.
"Robert," she said softly, "I'm on the bed." It was rather dark in the room.
He came to the bed and began to strip off his clothing. She saw he had left his pajamas on and she liked this-it made everything so cozy and sexy.
Robert closed and locked the bedroom door without her having to tell him to, then he came to the bed and knelt on it with one knee.
"Boy, I thought I'd never get to do this again," he said.
"I'm so glad you're here, Robert. Lie down beside me, darling." It was the first time, insofar as she could recall, that she had used that term of endearment with him.
He lay down beside her and clasped one of her breasts immediately.
"You're so pretty, Mrs. Dodds. Wish I could see you better. Is that all the light we can have?"
"Yes. It's better to have the lights turned down, Robert."
He pulled her nightie all the way up to her neck and buried his face in her breasts. She felt him running his tongue over the nipples and heard him breathing hard. She turned on her side facing him and, seizing his face with her hands, kissed him wetly, snaking her tongue into his mouth. He moved his body closer to hers, and she felt his hard rod as it touched her thighs. She reached down and rubbed it lovingly. It was extremely hard, she noted with satisfaction. Oh, there was nothing like a very young lover-their cocks were always very hard, always. She briefly thought of the man, Horace Blake, who had been with her that night some time ago, recalling his ineffectiveness, his fumbling, his attempts to raise a hard-on. A half-sneer came over her face without her knowing it.
"Robert, it's so hard and nice, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I really got a good one for you tonight, Mrs. Dodds. You want me to use it now?"
"Pretty soon, Robert. Right now, I'd like you to do something else. Would you?"
"Anything you want, I'll do, Mrs. Dodds."
"Get down lower. I want you to kiss me there."
"What? You mean ... between your ... legs?"
"Yes, Robert. Do you object to it?"
'I'll do anything you want me to, Mrs. Dodds."
"Get down lower then, Robert. Run your ... tongue over ... it ... lightly. Make me feel ... good ... please?"
She felt him lowering himself on the bed, felt his hands grasping her hips, felt his face against her. A moment later she felt the soft, wet warmth of his tongue going into the crease of her cunt. It made her flow a little, and he pulled his mouth away.
"Whew," he muttered. "I like this!"
"So ... do ... I ... Robert!" she gasped.
He placed both hands beneath her buttocks, lifted her a little and buried his face in her snatch again. Again she felt his wet, warm tongue going deep inside her. He kept this up and she stiffened, moaned, stroked his head, pulled his hair ... and had a magnificent orgasm that left her breathless and wanting more, much more.
"Oh ... Robert...." she sighed. "Wonderful, darling, just wonderful."
He kept it up for some time, and finally she had to ask him to stop. She had had several orgasms, and they had made her unbelievably weak.
He straightened up on the bed and lay down beside her, his arm over her breasts. "Mrs. Dodds," he said breathlessly, "you're the most wonderful girl in the world. I'm goofy about you. Can I get on top when you're rested?"
Mrs. Dodds was still panting hard. "Yes, Robert, first give me a few moments to catch my breath. That was beautiful, Robert, simply beautiful."
"I want to do that to you again sometime. Can I?"
"Any time, Robert," she said weakly. "Any time you feel like it."
"Boy," he said, and squeezed her, "I sure do love you."
"I'm so glad you do, Robert, darling."
"I like for you to call me that."
"You mean darling?"
"Yeah. Makes me feel real good."
"What would you like to call me, Robert?"
He laughed softly but uneasily. "I don't know. What's your first name?"
"Didn't I ever tell you? It's Alice."
"Guess I'll call you that, if you don't mind."
"All right, but don't do it in front of anyone."
He stiffened his body. "We won't ever be around anyone else, will we?" he asked, his voice sounding anxious.
"No, of course not. I just forgot myself for a moment."
"You know something, Alice? No, wait ... I don't want to call you that. Guess I'll keep on calling you Mrs. Dodds. You know something? You're the first real girl I ever had. Oh, I've had girls, but not like you. Do you believe that?"
She was tempted to smile but held it back. "I believe anything and everything you tell me, Robert. If you say I'm your first real girl, then I am. How nice, by the way ... how very nice of you to say that."
"It's real easy to be nice to you, Mrs. Dodds. You're so great."
"Thank you, darling. You're my boy, aren't you?"
He stiffened again. "Your boy?"
"My lover, I meant."
He relaxed. "Oh, that, sure I am. Guess I'll always love you, Mrs. Dodds."
"You're very sweet, Robert."
"I'm just crazy about you. You make me feel so wonderful."
"Thank you, Robert. You make me feel very good, too."
"Can I get on top pretty soon?"
"Yes, pretty soon. Just wait a little while longer."
He rubbed his erection against her leg. "See, I'm still that way, Mrs. Dodds."
"That's why you're so wonderful," she breathed. "You're always that way. I love for you to be that way, Robert."
"I like to see you with those black stockings on," he told her. "Boy, do they ever make me hot."
She smiled. "I'm glad they do, Robert. I like for you to be hot."
"Boy," he breathed, "I sure am. Can I get on top now?"
"Yes, Robert. You may get on top of me, darling.
He crawled above her eagerly and began to thrust himself at her. His probing prick struck her everywhere-on the legs, the stomach-everywhere but the right spot. She sighed a little, wishing he could learn to do it for himself, and reached for his cock to insert it. He kept on moving against her, and she had trouble grasping him long enough to accomplish it.
"Robert," she said, "please hold still for a moment."
He stopped his frantic movement. "Oh, okay."
She took his erect penis in her hand and pointed it at her cunt. "Now, Robert, bear down."
He thrust and she felt it entering. She cried out because it hurt her for some reason. This didn't stop him. He came at her savagely, and she winced and bit her lips from the pain of it. He got it in about halfway, then suddenly he thrust harder and was all the way in.
Oh, it was so wonderful. Mrs. Dodds held him there by grasping his buttocks and pressing down hard. Finally, when she thought he had established a good rhythm, she placed her hands behind her neck, clasped them together, and lay motionless, letting him do all the work. A constant, tight smile played about her lips as the boy humped frantically.
"Boy," he breathed. "Wonderful."
"Nice, Robert. Can you go a little slower?"
Immediately he slowed down his frantic movements and, she felt him hitting her clitoris now. Her body stiffened, and she thought she was going to cry out from the sheer ecstasy of it. Repeatedly, he struck her sensitive spot, and Mrs. Dodds found herself drooling like an idiot. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything right now except having his hot young shaft buried deeply within her body.
"Boy," he gasped. "I think I'm gonna...."
Mrs. Dodds' face was tense now. She had never known such a wild feeling before. She wanted to eat the boy up physically.
"Robert," she groaned. "You may move faster now."
He moved faster immediately, and she felt his body go extremely tense, heard him moan and cry out, felt him jerk and almost jump away from her. Immediately, he was back at her without breaking contact, and she felt him going even deeper into her.
"Robert, darling...," she moaned, and said no more.
Robert was pumping away at her again, and she lay back and received him happily.
CHAPTER TEN
BOTH OF THEM MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO a deep sleep afterward, because the next thing Mrs. Dodds knew daylight was streaming in through the windows. She sat up quickly on the bed and saw Robert lying on his back, his mouth slightly open, his face serene, his pajama bottoms off. She knew a moment of alarm, and then remembered it was Saturday and more than likely his grandmother would let him sleep later on the weekend, which meant she wouldn't be going to his room-or sending the woman who worked for her to his room-to awaken him for school.
She started to awaken him, but decided to wait a few moments. She looked at his young body and felt a stirring within her. His cock lay limply between his legs, and caused her to smile lovingly at him.
He looked so damned cute lying there with his mouth open. She hated to send him home, but she knew she must-it would be very dangerous not to.
"Robert," she said softly, "wake up. You must go home before your grandmother misses you."
His eyes opened quickly. He closed them, opened them again, and blinked at the light in the room, a look of fear coming over his face. He jumped up from the bed wildly and pulled on his clothing.
"Oh brother," he said, fear in his tone. "I goofed. My grandmother will know I'm not in bed at home."
"Don't be frightened," she said, trying to reassure him. "Go home quickly, crawl into your bedroom and close the window. If she has already discovered you weren't in bed, tell her you went for a walk to work up an appetite, something like that."
He was already half out the window. "Okay. Good-bye, Mrs. Dodds. Can I come back tonight?"
"Yes, after she goes to sleep, but be very careful not to let anyone see you coming here."
"I'll be careful," he told her, and was gone.
She continued to lie in bed for a time but finally got up, stretched her arms high above her head and went to the bathroom. She removed her nightgown and stepped under a warm shower. It felt good on her skin, and she stayed there for five minutes before stepping out and drying her lush body. She walked to the bedroom and stood looking at her lush nudity in the mirror. She sighed and pressed her hand to her cunt, recalling how it had felt when the boy had inserted his penis in her. A bit of moisture ran down her thighs just from thinking about him.
"Oh ... I don't know what's happened to me," she said aloud. "But it's terrific. I hope I can find a way to make it last."
She got dressed slowly, unlocked the door, and walked into the front room. Marie was sweeping the floor.
"Marie, good morning," Mrs. Dodds said happily. She felt very good.
Marie turned and looked at her employer. "Yes, I suppose so," she said sourly.
"Something wrong, Marie? Is Bruiser still here?"
"Both."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean ... he's upstairs, and he's drunk already." She held up her arm and Mrs. Dodds saw a large welt on it. "My back is like that, too, Mrs. Dodds. That man is ... is a sadist."
"You mean he's been beating you?"
"He knocked me around plenty last night, Mrs. Dodds. We have to get rid of him, and I mean right now!"
Mrs. Dodds remembered that Bruiser knew about her relationship with the boy. "Y-yes," she said. "I suppose we'll have to do something about that man."
"You can do it, Mrs. Dodds. You have lots of courage. Besides, it's your house."
"I had the idea for a time, Marie, that you were quite taken with the man."
"I was a fool, Mrs. Dodds. I thought he was all right for a while, but now I know different. He's a cruel beast, a sadist."
Mrs. Dodds knew she had to extricate herself from this thing somehow. "Maybe if we hide the whiskey from him, he'll be more gentle."
Marie's face fell. "You mean, you aren't going to throw him out?"
Mrs. Dodds bit her lips. "To tell you the truth, Marie, no. Not just yet, anyway."
"Why not? Are you afraid of him too?"
"Y-yes. Yes, I am, Marie. As you say, he's a cruel man. We have to be careful with him."
"You could call the police. They'd get rid of him for us in a hurry."
"But, Marie, stop and think. He's made love to both of us. How will it look if he tells the cops that?"
"I don't care, if you don't."
"But I do care, damn it," Mrs. Dodds snapped, and instantly regretted her manner of saying it.
Marie signed. "I know. You have a certain position in life to maintain. I'm just a servant. With me it's different."
"Rubbish. I have no position any more. I'm not Charles Dodds' wife now."
"But you were, and if he ever found out, he'd...."
"He'd what, Marie?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Dodds. I suspect he'd make things difficult for you, knowing him as I do."
There was some truth in what she had said. "I'm not worried about him, Marie. What can he do to me now?"
"I wouldn't know, Mrs. Dodds. Maybe I shouldn't have brought him up."
"The hell with Charles, Marie. That's my attitude."
Marie went on with her sweeping and then stopped and looked up again at her employer. "What are you going to do about Mr. Bruiser, let him remain here?"
"I have to, for the time being, Marie."
"Then I'll be forced to quit, Mrs. Dodds. I can't take any more from him."
"Please don't do that, Marie. I need you."
"Mrs. Dodds, look at my arm. I'm afraid of him. He'll kill me before he's through. He may kill you, too. Why on earth do you want to keep him here?"
Mrs. Dodds sighed. "All right, Marie. I'm going to tell you. I've seldom had any secrets from you. So ... the trouble is, Sam Bruiser has me over a barrel. You see, I've been carrying on an affair with a fifteen-year-old boy. Bruiser knows about it and is extorting money from me to keep quiet about it. Do you understand?"
Marie's expression didn't change. "What boy are you talking about? I've never seen him around here."
"No, you haven't, Marie. His name is Robert Loring. He lives in the next block with his grandmother."
"A fifteen-year-old," Marie mused. "I've often wondered what it would be like to have a young man do it to me."
Mrs. Dodds smiled at her servant's frankness. "It's wonderful, Marie, simply wonderful. You have no idea what he can do for me. He makes me feel as young as he is."
Marie grinned slightly. "He wouldn't have a friend willing to take on an older woman, would he?"
"Matter of fact, he does have a friend," Mrs. Dodds said cautiously. "Maybe I can fix you up ... if it doesn't seem too dangerous."
There was undisguised lust in Marie's blue eyes. "How old is his friend?"
"I think he's about eighteen. Something like that."
Marie sighed and patted her ample bosom. "I'd like some of that. If you can get him to come here
... and make love to me ... I won't quit you, Mrs. Dodds."
"Wait a minute, Marie. That almost sounds like blackmail."
Marie gave her head a toss. "That's the way it is, Mrs. Dodds. You want me to stay, you get that boy to come here."
Mrs. Dodds wasn't at all sure she liked this new attitude of Marie's. "I'll see," she said. "I'd like something to eat, Marie. Can you finish your sweeping later?"
After she had eaten her breakfast, Mrs. Dodds steeled herself and went up the stairs. When she arrived at the top she saw the door there was still locked. Then how had Marie gotten downstairs? She must remember to ask her.
She unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway. She went straight to the guest room and knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" the man asked thickly.
She didn't reply but pushed open the door. He lay naked on the bed. "Pull the covers over you, Bruiser," she snapped.
He stared at her stupidly. "Oh, it's you, is it? You come up for a piece?"
"Shut up with that kind of talk. I came to ask you how much money you want to clear out for good."
"Well now, ma'am," he said, sneering it, "what makes you think I'll clear out for any amount of money? I got a good thing going here. I'm gonna stay, so you might as well forget about it."
"I'll think of a way to get rid of you, buster," she said, annoyed to the extreme. "You can bet on it."
Insolently, he grinned and fingered his genitals. "Now would you like a little bit of what I got, ma'am?"
"No thanks." She turned to leave.
"Hey," he said. "You like the kid better'n me, right?"
"You're disgusting," she said, and went out, slamming the door after her. "I'll have to see to it," she muttered to herself, "that he gets hold of some more sleeping pills. What with all his drinking, that should take care of him. But how will I do it?"
What she meant was, how could she arrange it so that he would kill himself, but would not die in her house? This would require some planning. There seemed to be no other way of getting rid of the man-unless, of course, she was willing to give up the kid, in which case she could simply call in the cops and let Bruiser say what he wanted to. The trouble with this was that she didn't want to give Robert up, and even if she did, wouldn't Robert be angry and perhaps vengeful enough to corroborate Bruiser's story himself?
Mrs. Dodds went back downstairs. She remembered how Marie had nearly gone queer on her. Had Bruiser somehow or other been responsible for that? Had he treated Marie so brutally that she had resorted to doing an about-face? Such a thing could happen to a woman, but wasn't it a bit far-fetched?
"The hell with it," Mrs. Dodds said aloud. It was one of her most often-used remarks, lately. She was glad, however, that Marie hadn't remembered her attempt at that deviation. This, Mrs. Dodds felt, would have bothered Marie altogether too much for her own good.
Some time later, Marie came into the room from the kitchen and startled her by asking, "Mrs. Dodds, may I borrow your gun?"
"What do you want with it, Marie?"
"I want to keep him away from me tonight."
Mrs. Dodds shook her head. "I won't let you take it. You'd only get yourself into trouble."
Marie sighed and made a face at the same time. "Very well, Mrs. Dodds. I suppose I'll have to let him rape me and beat me all night long again."
"Lock your door when you go to bed. It's that easy to keep him away from you."
"I can't do that. The lock on my door is broken."
"I can understand your not wanting him to beat up on you, but I thought you rather liked having him make love to you, Marie."
Marie blushed. "I did at one time, but that was before he started getting mean."
"Are you asking me indirectly if you can sleep with me tonight?" Mrs. Dodds asked slowly.
Again Marie flushed. "Well, yes, I would like to. Two of us might be able to fight him off."
"Generally, Marie, I don't fight off men," Mrs. Dodds said flatly.
Marie was silent.
"I think you'd better get your lock fixed and sleep in your own room. You can call a locksmith. Look one up in the yellow pages."
"All right, Mrs. Dodds." Marie flounced from the room, and Mrs. Dodds smiled slightly. She was sure there was nothing wrong with the lock on Marie's bedroom door.
She heard a sound and looked up to see Sam Bruiser stumbling down the stairs. His face was mottled, and he needed a shave badly. His hair was mussed and his eyes held a wild look. He was wearing only his briefs.
"Hey," he called to her. "I need another bottle of juice. You got any?"
"You've had enough," she said shortly.
He came up to her, but she moved away from him and lit a cigarette. She knew she would have to give him a bottle, because if she didn't he would tear the place up looking for one.
"How about it?" he asked roughly. "I get a bottle or not?"
"Over there, behind the bar. Help yourself."
He staggered over, got a bottle, uncapped it and took a slug of the stuff. Slamming the bottle down, he stared across the bar at her. "How about it, baby, you and me? You wanna do it, doll? I'm ready for you."
"No thanks," she said. "Take your bottle and go upstairs. Nobody here wants to have anything to do with you."
"Marie does," he sneered. "She says I drive her crazy."
"Not any more, buster. Neither of us likes you very well, to put it mildly. You've become a nuisance."
He laughed coarsely. "Tough, baby. You might as well get used to me. I'm gonna be here a long time."
"Maybe," she said, pressing her lips together. "Maybe not."
"What you gonna do, throw me out bodily?"
"I'd like to."
He came from behind the bar, carrying the bottle. "You know something? I'm gonna take a shower in your bathroom. Right now."
"You have one near your own room upstairs," she said quietly.
"Nope. I'm gonna use yours. I like yours better."
Mrs. Dodds shrugged. "All right, help yourself. You know where it is."
"I sure do," he said, and for a moment he sounded like Robert. "How about you coming in and washing my you-know-what, baby?"
"No thanks," she said, and turned away from him. Out of the comer of her eye she saw him stagger to her bedroom and close the door. It was too bad she couldn't lock her door from the outside, but that wouldn't have solved anything, anyway. He could always crawl out the window, stagger around to the door and bang on it. She couldn't afford to have this half-naked drunk banging on her front door in broad daylight.
After a time she went to her bedroom door and opened it. Making certain he was in the shower, she stepped over to her dresser and removed the gun Charles had left with her. She carried it back to the front room and hid it behind the bar. It would never do to let Bruiser discover the gun. Who could tell what he might do?
She had forgotten and left her bedroom door standing ajar, and when he came out of the room ten minutes later stark naked, he noticed it.
He laughed. "So you came in and took a peek at me in the shower. Good for you, Mrs. Dodds. Maybe you'd like a little, now that I'm clean."
"Shut up," she said angrily. "Don't even talk to me any more. I can't stand the sight or sound of you."
"Where's Marie? I need some lovin'."
Mrs. Dodds swore softly to herself, and at that inopportune moment, Marie entered the room. She stopped, her hand flying to her throat when she saw the naked man.
Bruiser saw her too. "There you are, baby. Come here, I need you. Right here on the sofa will be fine."
"You're drunk," Marie cried. "Leave me alone."
"Sure I'm drunk, and I ain't gonna leave you alone, baby."
"Mrs. Dodds," Marie said, "this is your house. Can't you do something about him?"
Mrs. Dodds said nothing. There was nothing to say.
Bruiser slammed the bottle down on a table and started for Marie, who turned and tried to run from the room. But he caught her, dragged her to the sofa and slammed her down hard.
"There, baby, you just lie there and take it." He threw himself on top of her. She struggled and called to Mrs. Dodds for help.
Mrs. Dodds was at a loss. She couldn't fight this powerful man; it would be idiotic to try. Instead she watched for her chance, and while Bruiser was taking Marie, Mrs. Dodds picked up his bottle-unnoticed by him-and ran upstairs. She found her bottle of sleeping pills on the dresser in his room and dumped all the pills into the whiskey bottle. She went back downstairs and replaced the bottle on the table. She tried not to look at the two of them on the sofa, but she found something wildly exciting about seeing a naked man taking a woman.
Marie, she noted drily, wasn't resisting him at all. She had made believe she was going to fight him off, but now that the man was on top of her, she had a look of undisguised lust on her face.
Mrs. Dodds smiled tightly. People were such fools-including herself. They were full of resistance to sex until it came right down to the wire, and then they were all for it. Funny world.
Mrs. Dodds finally left the room, not because she didn't want to witness the scene any longer, but because she felt a stirring in her own loins, and she was damned if she was going to have anything to do with this man, and especially after he had taken her servant.
She sat at the kitchen table and, in spite of herself, kept straining her ears to hear the sounds of their lovemaking. A trickle of moisture ran down her thighs and she took a deep breath and wished that Robert was with her.
She wondered if she was going to be able to stand it until tonight when he came to her bedroom. Well, she would just have to stand it. There was nothing else she could do.
Or was there?
"No," she muttered. "Stay away from that man. He's a beast. Don't give in to your lust."
She got to her feet and paced the kitchen floor for a minute, then pushed open the door, crossed the dining room and peered into the front room.
Sam Bruiser wasn't on top of Marie now.
He was kneeling over her, and Mrs. Dodds saw that Marie was giving him a blow job. She drew in her breath sharply at the sight. A wild, reckless feeling passed over her, and she had to grasp a chair to keep her balance. More moisture ran down her legs, and she thought her heart was going to hammer itself to death from the sheer excitement of the scene.
Marie was voraciously using her lips and tongue on Bruiser, and evidently liking it, if the lustful look on her face was any indication.
"Marie," Mrs. Dodds said to herself, "you're a damned liar-you're crazy about that bum."
She turned and walked through the kitchen and went to the garage. She knew if she didn't get away from here soon, a daisy-chain would evolve in the front room. Mrs. Dodds wasn't about to indulge in that sort of thing-not yet, anyhow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FORTUNATELY, MARIE HAD LEFT THE key in the car. Mrs. Dodds started the motor and backed out of the garage swiftly. She was trembling all over, and this annoyed her. She wanted no part of Sam Bruiser or Marie, and yet the wildest feeling of desire had crept into her as she'd watched them.
She turned east in the direction of Robert's house and drove the car slowly by the place. There was no sign of him in the yard. She turned at the next corner and drove slowly along that street until she happened to pass a vacant lot where some youths were playing touch football. She saw him immediately. He was carrying the ball and running fast around end. Mrs. Dodds had at one time been a football fan-her husband had introduced her to the game-as a spectator, of course. She slammed on the brakes, and the car came to a halt. She sat there nervously smoking a cigarette and trying to figure out a way to get Robert's attention without the other boys getting wise.
Seeing him run like that, his legs flying, his arm tucking the ball tight to his body, his hair flopping about, did something to her. Instead of getting over her passion, she found she was getting hotter. A drop of perspiration ran down her face, even though it was a cool day. She rolled the car window down, thinking this might help him spot her and perhaps find an excuse for coming to the car, but Robert didn't even glance in her direction. She sighed, took a puff on the cigarette, sighed again and pressed her hand down between her legs, a shudder passing through her.
"I swear," she said softly, "I'm getting psychotic about sex. That's all I can think of any more."
The boys were not at the other end of the lot, a good hundred yards away from her, and she could barely see Robert. Then, just as she turned her head to watch them, a boy threw a long pass and Robert ran downfield, caught it, easily eluded two other boys and scored a touchdown. Mrs. Dodds glowed with pride at this accomplishment. She felt like applauding.
On the next play, the kickoff, the ball flew toward her car and landed just a few feet from her. One of the boys yelled, "Out of bounds," and she saw Robert coming over to pick it up. When he was near the car she spoke to him.
"When you're through, Robert, come to the car, will you?"
He stared at her, blushing and acting embarrassed in general.
"Go on with your game, Robert," she said. "I don't want to interrupt you."
He nodded and ran back onto the field quickly. She smiled, knowing he was embarrassed and afraid the other boys would suspect something. She lit another cigarette and sat smoking it. When it was gone, she began to get impatient. It seemed the game would never end, but then it did, and the boys all took off running-all but one, Robert.
He waited until everyone else was out of sight, then came to the car.
"Hi, Mrs. Dodds," he said, grinning and wiping sweat from his face. "You see the touchdown I made?"
"Yes," she said, smiling. "Good work. You're fast, Robert."
"I'm pretty good," he said a bit proudly. "I'll be real good in a coupla years, maybe."
"Get in, Robert. Let's take a drive somewhere."
He glanced around swiftly-guiltily, she thought-and yanked open the door. He sat down beside her and grinned nervously. "Some set of wheels you got, Mrs. Dodds. Wish I had 'em."
"You like cars, Robert?" she asked as she pulled the big car away from the curb and headed it down the street.
"Like sport jobs best. Saw one the other dayboy, was it cool."
"How would you like to go to a real football game some Saturday?"
"I'd like to. You mean, with you?"
"Yes, of course."
"Gee, I didn't think old women liked football."
The remark cut like a small knife in her heart. "I'm not that old, Robert," she said drily.
His face was even redder now. "Gee, I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"It doesn't matter, Robert. I'm not very sensitive about such things." This wasn't altogether the truth.
He was glancing at her legs and not really listening, apparently. "You sure got pretty legs, Mrs. Dodds."
She smiled and turned a corner. "Thank you, Robert. Do they do anything to you?"
"Pull your dress up a little more and they will," he blurted.
"I'm driving, Robert. You'll have to do it."
He reached over and tugged her dress up several inches, then made a sound with his lips. "Boy," he said, his voice unsteady, "are they ever pretty! Man!"
"Put your hand on me, Robert," she suggested tensely.
"Here ... in the car?"
"Sure. Why not? No one can see in."
"I'd better not," he said. "A police car might drive by us."
"All right, Robert," she said through clenched teeth.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Are we going some place where we can ... diddle around?"
She laughed nervously. "Yes, just as soon as I can think of a place to go."
"How about your garage?"
"Pretty risky in the daytime, Robert."
"No, it ain't. The safest place is right there in your garage. Who's gonna look there?"
"Maybe you're right." She turned right at the next comer and swung the car around a six-block square. When they arrived back near Smith Street, she told him to duck low on the seat, which he did. She pulled the car into her driveway a few moments later and drove it into the garage.
"I'll get the garage doors," he said.
"No, let me do it, Robert. The people across the street might see you." She climbed out quickly and closed the garage doors, her heart hammering furiously as it always did when she was about to take him. She got back in the car and passed her hands over her eyes unconsciously.
"You got a headache, Mrs. Dodds?"
"No, Robert, I'm just excited."
"So'm I. I'm always excited when I'm getting ready to lay you."
She smiled tensely. "That word ... I've gotten so I love to hear you use it."
"You mean, lay? Well, that's what all the other guys call it, only them other guys don't get any, like I do."
She smiled again. "Are you telling me you're fortunate?"
"Boy, am I. How many guys my age got girls who let them screw 'em?"
Mrs. Dodds nearly jumped at his use of the coarse word. It thrilled her. "Robert," she said, "you're awfully cute."
"Cute?" he said, rather harshly. "I ain't cute. Don't call me cute, Mrs. Dodds. That's a sissy word."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Robert. I didn't know you considered it a sissy word."
"That's okay."
"Are you ... hot, Robert?" she asked a moment later.
"Yeah. I really got a terrific hard-on. Want to see it?"
"Yes, Robert, of course I do."
He took his rigid penis out of his pants, and she caught her breath at the sight of it. "It's lovely, Robert," she murmured, and slumped down on the seat, her legs spread apart.
"Want me to get on my knees to stick it into you, Mrs. Dodds?"
"Any way you wish, Robert-just hurry!"
He ran his hand up under her dress and down inside her panties and inserted his forefinger in her cunt. She moaned and slumped down farther on the seat. He poked his finger in and out a few times, and she thought she was going to have an orgasm from just that. He withdrew his finger.
"Guess you'd rather have the real thing, huh, Mrs. Dodds?"
She sighed. "Oh ... yes ... Robert...."
He got between her leg;, yanked down her panties and made the insertion all by himself. "How's that?" he asked, his voice breaking. "I did it myself."
"Oh ... yes ... Robert...."
He began humping furiously, but she had to slow him down because he wasn't rubbing her clit. Then, when he moved more slowly, she felt his penis stroking that sensitive button, and again she slumped down on the seat and closed her eyes this time.
It was wonderful, the best ever from him.
But it ended all too soon. She sighed and patted him on the back when he had finished. He pulled himself off her and sat back against the seat, looking at his wet, limp prick. Then he put it back in his pants.
"Mrs. Dodds," he said thickly, "you ain't gonna like this, but I played a trick on you."
She pulled her panties up partway. "What did you say, Robert?"
He was blushing again. "I pulled a dirty trick on you. I told the other guys you was my girl."
"You didn't, did you? Not really?" she choked.
He hung his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Dodds. Me and my big mouth. I just had to brag to them when I saw you sitting in the car watching us play football."
"Oh, Robert. That was a mistake. Do they know my name?"
He shook his head. "No, I didn't tell them that."
"What did you tell them?"
"I just told 'em you was my girl."
"Didn't they ask a lot of questions?"
"Sort of. Wanted to know who you was, where I met you. Stuff like that."
"But you didn't tell them who I was?"
"No."
She breathed more easily. "Then I suppose it's all right, Robert, though I'm very angry at you for bragging." She pulled her panties up into place and smoothed down her skirt.
"I'm awful sorry, Mrs. Dodds. I won't never tell 'em nothin' like that again."
"All right. I believe you. May I say something to you?"
"Sure."
"Next time we make love, please take a little more time at it. You were much too quick today."
He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that a woman requires a longer ... it takes more time for a woman to enjoy herself sometimes."
"Oh, I didn't know that. Gee, I didn't know women even liked it. I just thought you were being nice to me."
"Well ... I am being nice to you, Robert, and I expect you to be nice to me, too."
"Sure I will, Mrs. Dodds. You want me to do it all over again?"
"Oh ... Robert ... could you? I mean, will you? I'd love that."
"Sure, I will. I'd do anything for you, Mrs. Dodds."
"You're a nice boy, Robert."
"I ain't no boy," he said fiercely, startling her.
"Well ... man, then."
"I ain't no man, either."
"Then what are you?"
"I'm a ... guy."
"Oh, a guy. All right, you're a nice guy, Robert."
"Give me a cigarette, will you?"
"Certainly, Robert."
"Soon's I have me a smoke, I'll take care of you, baby."
Mrs. Dodds smiled. "You sound very sophisticated." She handed the pack of cigarettes to him, and he lit one.
"You sure like screwing, don't you?" he remarked as he puffed awkwardly on the cigarette.
"Yes, Robert, I do. You do, too, don't you?"
"Yep. I'm all for it. A guy needs to lay his girl every day. Makes him feel good." He choked on the smoke then, but tried to cover it up. "I swallowed my spit the wrong way," he explained, his face red again.
"Oh...." She kept her own face straight; it wouldn't do to smile. He would be offended if she did.
"Bunch of us guys gonna drink beer tonight," he stated.
"Oh, Robert, does that mean you won't be coming to my house?"
"Well ... I'll be around later. You know, after the party breaks up. I can't just get up and walk out on the guys."
"I understand," she said.
"Boy, you sure are a swell girl. I never knew anybody who understood a guy like you do."
"Thank you, Robert. That's very sweet of you."
"I guess I've smoked enough. I'll put it out now." He snubbed the cigarette in the ash tray and turned to her. "You want to make it again now?"
For some reason she giggled. "If you want to, Robert."
He laughed. "Hey, you almost sounded like one of them stupid high school girls for a minute."
"Did I? What makes you say that?"
"You giggled. I never heard you giggle before."
"I just felt like it, I suppose."
He reached over and slipped his hand under her dress. She saw the sudden lust in his eyes. "You got real nice legs, baby," he told her boldly.
"Thank you, Robert."
"You mind if I kiss you down there?"
"I'd like that, Robert."
He lifted her dress high, pulled down her panties and lowered his head to her thighs. He kissed her legs repeatedly, finally moving up higher. When he kissed her cunt she thought she was going to explode. A wild tingling sensation ran up and down her spine, and she grabbed his head and closed her eyes tightly. His tongue began to drive her almost mad, and she pulled his hair hard. Immediately, he stopped what he was doing.
"Hey," he complained. "Don't pull my hair out. That hurts."
She was breathing hard. "Oh, I'm sorry, Robert," she mumbled. "That drives me mad."
He rubbed his head. "Boy, are you ever strong. Gee, my head hurts."
"Oh, Robert, don't stop now, please." She was almost begging him.
He pulled her dress down roughly, then reached under it and yanked her panties up. "I'm going home now," he announced.
She was startled. "Why, Robert ... you're angry with me."
He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I just don't like to have my hair pulled."
She was taken aback. "I didn't realize what I was doing."
"I'm going home. I'm getting hungry."
"You can't leave me this way. I...."
"Who says I can't?" he retorted.
"Robert," she said, shocked, "you never talked this way to me before."
He started to open the car door. "I'll see you," he said.
"Robert, wait. You can go home if you like, but you'd better let me drive you around the block. People might see you leaving my garage."
"I don't care if they do." He climbed out of the car and closed the door. "I'll see you," he repeated, not looking at her.
"All right, Robert, go. Will you be over tonight?"
"I told you," he said sullenly, "I'm going to a beer bust."
"Will you come afterward?" she persisted.
"I'll think about it." He rubbed his head.
"Robert, you're being positively rude to me. Why?"
"You pulled my hair. My mother was always pulling my hair." She moistened her lips. "I ... I'm sorry."
"Yeah."
"Robert, get back in the car. You promised to love me once more."
"No, I'm going home."
"Please. I need you so."
"You got a guy in the house. What do you need me for?"
She stiffened. "Robert, I do think you better go home."
"That's what I said I was gonna do."
"And ... don't come to see me tonight. I don't like you when you're rude."
"Okay."
She was startled when he strode out of the garage, lifting the garage doors quickly and leaving them up. In the rear-view mirror she saw him cut across the next door neighbor's yard and pass from view. Mrs. Dodds sighed. What on earth had come over him? She couldn't believe that having his hair pulled would make him that rude.
Perhaps he was growing tired of her. After all, he was very young, and perhaps he'd had his fill of her sexually, at least for the present....
"No," she muttered, "I refuse to believe that."
She got out of the car and walked slowly into the house. She pushed open the kitchen door carefully, wondering if Bruiser and Marie were still on the sofa.
She entered the front room quietly, but saw they were no longer there. She breathed a sigh of relief and for the first time wished she lived alone. It was too much trouble having other people about the place, even Marie. She wondered what it would be like to live alone, entirely alone.
She felt tired for some reason, and to perk herself up, as she often did, she went to her bedroom and stripped off her clothing. She examined her body in the mirror, looking at her cunt in particular. Women were odd-looking things, weren't they? she mused. All round and pear-shaped in the rear and about the same in front. Her navel, she thought, looked kind of cute.
Mrs. Dodds giggled like a schoolgirl. "I swear," she muttered, "I'm getting childish."
Then she remembered something.
She stepped to the doorway and looked into the front room just to make certain no one was there. No one was. She glanced at the table near the safe. The whiskey bottle-the one she had dumped the sleeping pills into-stood there uncapped. Walking across the room naked, she bent over and picked up the bottle to examine it. It was almost empty. That meant Bruiser had drunk the whiskey with enough of the drug in it to put him to sleep, possibly to put him to sleep permanently. She had him figured for a pill addict, so she thought he probably had a great tolerance for sleeping pills. She wondered if he and Marie were upstairs. Perhaps she had taken in some of the juice too, in which case she would be fairly well knocked out.
She walked to the foot of the stairs and called up to them, first using Marie's name and then Bruiser's. No one answered. Should she go up and investigate? she wondered. After all, she didn't want anything to happen to Marie.
She decided to take a shower first. Going back to the bedroom, she hesitated before entering the bathroom. Then, changing her mind, she put on her robe and went upstairs to Marie's room. She found her servant lying on the bed, her eyes red.
"Marie," she said, "what's wrong?"
Marie looked at her oddly. "He's gone, Mrs. Dodds."
"Bruiser is gone?"
"Yes. Sam's gone." She was calling him Sam again.
Mrs. Dodds was relieved. "Well, you knew it was going to happen, Marie," she said gently. "That kind never stays put for long. Don't cry."
Marie sobbed harder. "You don't understand, Mrs. Dodds. Sam is gone."
"No, I don't understand. Can you be more specific?"
"He's dead!" Marie sobbed. "He's dead, on his bed!"
CHAPTER TWELVE
MRS. DODDS WASN'T AT ALL EXCITED, much to her surprise. She simply stared at Marie, turned, and walked from the room. She went into the guest room and saw Sam Bruiser lying on his back, naked. The first thing she did was to go through his wallet and remove the check she had written. She stuffed it into the pocket of her robe, then looked at the man's body again. Strange, she thought, how death can rob a body of ... everything, including excitement.
She ground her teeth, then decided to go back and get Marie, which she did. She had to half drag the woman into the guest room.
"I don't want to look at him like this," Marie sobbed.
"Stop talking so foolishly. We have to get his clothing on him."
"But, Mrs. Dodds, we have to call the police."
"Are you out of your mind? We're going to wait till dark, then drive him out into the country and leave him in a ditch."
Marie began to get hysterical, and Mrs. Dodds was obliged to slap her face repeatedly. "Stop that yelling, Marie," she said sternly. "We have things to do."
"You dress him, Mrs. Dodds. I can't bear to touch him."
"The hell you can't. You were touching him pretty well a couple of hours ago."
"That was different," Marie wailed. "He was alive then. What killed him? What happened to my poor guy?"
"Your poor guy, my foot. Half the time you hated him. He was a bum, a beast, a blackmailer, and just plain no good, so don't give me that 'poor guy' stuff. Come on. Lend me a hand. We have to dress him."
"I won't do it. I refuse to touch him."
Mrs. Dodds held her temper. "You're going to have to touch him as soon as it gets dark. You'll have to help me carry him to the car."
"Let's call the police, let them take care of him."
Mrs. Dodds frowned. "I can't allow you to do that, Marie. You see, I put the sleeping pills in the whiskey bottle. That's what killed him."
"You did what?" Marie backed away from her employer, her eyes wide.
"Come off it, damn it. How else could I get rid of an extortionist?"
"You killed him! You killed Sam!"
Mrs. Dodds kept her gaze steady on Marie. "That's right. I killed him. Now help me get his clothes on."
"I can't. You do it, Mrs. Dodds. You're stronger than I am."
"You mean to tell me that you really loved this bum that much?"
"N-no. I didn't love him, not really. It's just that he sort of made a woman out of me. I...."
"Nuts. You don't want to be a real woman, Marie. Don't kid me."
"What?"
"I said, you don't want to be a real woman-you never did. You just thought you'd try it with him, that's all."
Marie's face was white. "I don't understand what you're saying, Mrs. Dodds."
"Don't try to. Just help me get his clothes on."
"All right, I'll try."
They got Bruiser's body dressed, with a lot of struggle and effort. "We'll leave him here on the bed until it gets dark," Mrs. Dodds said. "You're not to leave the house today, Marie. Don't use the phone. Don't even answer it. I will, if it's necessary."
"All right, Mrs. Dodds." Marie looked badly shaken.
"Come downstairs. What we both need is a drink."
"Not from the same bottle," Marie said.
"Certainly not. I'll empty that one out and wash it before I throw it away. Come on."
They closed the door and went downstairs. There was nothing to do but drink and wait for darkness. It came, finally.
Together they half-dragged the body from the house and placed it in the trunk of the Buick. They climbed into the car, and Mrs. Dodds drove far out into the country. She turned onto a side road and drove for miles until she thought they had found the right spot. She had trouble persuading Marie to help her again, but finally got her to, and they lifted the heavy body of the man to the ground and dragged it behind a clump of bushes. Mrs. Dodds had taken care to remove everything from his person that might serve to identify him.
"That's about it, Marie," she said. "Let's go back home."
"I'm frightened, Mrs. Dodds. What if the police come to the house sometime and ask me if he's ever been there? What will I say?"
"Tell them you never heard of him. Stick to it. They won't be able to prove anything. No one but us knows he's been here."
"What about your ... young lover?"
Mrs. Dodds bit her lips. "I'll handle him. Don't worry."
They drove back into the city and to the house. Mrs. Dodds put the car in the garage and told Marie to go inside by herself.
"I don't want to go in by myself, Mrs. Dodds. It scares me to be alone."
Mrs. Dodds had wanted to sit there alone for a time and recall how she had felt when Robert was making her. She sighed and said, "All right, we'll both go inside."
Inside the house, Mrs. Dodds poured herself a shot of Scotch and gave one to Marie. They sat together on the sofa, and Marie whimpered from time to time.
"Will you please pull yourself together, Marie? I'm getting tired of your acting like a baby."
Marie leaned against Mrs. Dodds, and Mrs. Dodds didn't object. A moment later Marie ran her hand over Mrs. Dodds' breasts. "Let me, Mrs. Dodds. It'll make me feel better."
"Hell, no. Knock it off, Marie." The attempt at Lesbianism annoyed Mrs. Dodds.
"But you're all I have, Mrs. Dodds."
"Sorry, Marie. I'm your employer, not your lover."
Marie jumped to her feet angrily. "You killed the only lover I had. You could do something for me in exchange."
"Some lover he was, knocked you around, beat you. Don't kid me."
"I'm going to bed," Marie said fiercely. "I'm tired of talking to you."
"Very well, Marie. Good night."
Marie marched up the stairs and Mrs. Dodds heard the door of her room slam a moment later. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Mrs. Dodds was surprised to discover it was eleven o'clock. She was also surprised to discover that the killing of Sam Bruiser didn't upset her much. He had been a nuisance, an extortionist, and a fool. Such people didn't have any rights, in Mrs. Dodds' opinion.
She glanced at the clock again. Robert should be coming around any time now. She drooled, thinking about the boy. What was it about him that obsessed her so much?
"He's so young," she murmured. "So young, and always capable." She had answered her own question.
She went to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes as she had done previously. Not one to relinquish a pleasure, she studied her body in the mirror, but only momentarily. She walked into the bathroom and took a shower, lathering her lush body with nicely scented soap. She stepped out of the shower five minutes later and walked to the bedroom without drying herself.
Once again she looked at her body in the mirror, noting the beads of water on her skin. Her hair was wet, because she hadn't thought to use a shower cap.
She laughed. "I look kind of nice with my hair wet." But what good was it to look nice if there was no one about to see her?
She moved away from the mirror and had a sudden thought. The window-was it unlocked? She tried it and found it locked. Quickly, she unlocked it and wondered if Robert might have been here already, found the window locked and gone home. Her heart jumped within her.
"Damn it," she said. "I should have thought of it before."
She heard a sound then, and it seemed to have come from outside. She lifted the shade a little and peered out into the darkness. She couldn't see anything or anyone, but she thought she heard a footstep.
"Robert," she said softly, "here I am."
There was the sound of a footstep again.
"Robert," she said, a bit louder. "What are you doing? Come in through the window, darling."
Robert didn't appear at the window. Mrs. Dodds waited a long minute and then let the shade fall back into place. It was just a cat or something, she reasoned. If it had been Robert, he would have crawled through the window.
She went to the bed and sat down and looked at her navel. She smiled. Funny, she thought, it really is cute.
"Oh, damn," she muttered. "Where is that boy?"
She lay flat on the bed and pressed her hand over her cunt. Wouldn't it be wonderful if a person could make love to himself, herself, and not have to depend on someone else to do it? Mrs. Dodds smiled again. "I'm getting real goofy, as Robert would say. I'm talking to myself, having nutty thoughts. I'll have to watch myself, or they'll come and get me one of these days."
She got up from the bed, went back to the window and peered outside again. She couldn't hear a sound now. Moving away from the window, she stepped from the bedroom into the bathroom for a few moments.
When she returned naked to the bedroom, her heart almost stopped beating. Robert wasn't there-but somebody else was.
Two youths, both with wild, drunken lust in their eyes.
"What's the meaning of this?" she cried, as she grabbed for her robe and drew it about her body.
One was a red-haired youth, the other a blond. Both were about nineteen and had long hair. They wore leather jackets and tight-fitting jeans.
"Hi, baby," the red-haired one said, sneering it. "Your boy Robert got drunk, so he sent us in his place. You gonna give us a little, like you do for Robert?"
"Get out of here," she yelled, "or I'll call the police!"
The blond youth sneered. "You ain't gonna call no cops, doll. We know all about you. Robert told us. You're ready to get it any time, anywhere."
"Yeah, we figured we was about ripe to get a little of you, baby," the redhead said, moving closer to her.
"Get out of here," Mrs. Dodds said. "Get out right now, and I won't say anything to anybody. You touch me, and I'll report you both."
"Aw, come on, doll. Give us a little pussy," the blond wheedled.
The redhead said, "I'm Joe, Robert's friend. You ain't gonna turn down no friend of Robert's are you, baby?"
Mrs. Dodds sprang across the room and yanked open the door. She ran across the front room toward the bar where the gun was. She didn't get there. One of them tackled her from behind and ripped her rope off. The other grabbed her, and they held her down on the floor, her arms pinioned above her head.
"Which one of us is first, baby?" the redhead asked, his face close to hers, his eyes half-crazed with lust.
"I'll have you both arrested!" she cried. Then she screamed. "Marie, get down here! Help me!"
Marie didn't come, as Mrs. Dodds had known she wouldn't. She stopped screaming for help and looked up at the two would-be rapists.
"Well boys," she said, "looks like you got me. I can't fight off two of you, can I?"
"Now you're talking sense, baby," Joe said. He turned to the other youth. "How about those tits? You ever seen anything like 'em, Bert?"
Bert shook his head and grinned. "They're the greatest, just the greatest. You know, lady, Robert told us you were the best piece he'd ever had. We all thought he was just doing some big boy talking, but I see now he was right. I'll bet you are the best piece he's ever had."
"Did Robert really tell you boys ... where I lived?"
"Sure did, baby," Joe said, feeling of her breast.
"Told us you kept that window unlocked for him, too."
Mrs. Dodds didn't struggle or try to pull away from them. "I think," she said, "that I'll punish Robert just a little for telling you about me and about my unlocked window."
"What you talking about?" Joe wanted to know.
"I just mean, boys, that I'm going to let you do whatever you want. Then I want you to tell Robert all about it. Will you?"
"Sure, baby, we'll tell him. We don't have to, though. We got you anyway. You can't do nothing, whether we make any promises or not."
Mrs. Dodds sighed. "I know it, boys. I'm at your mercy, but let me tell you something. My ex-husband is Judge Charles Dodds. Did you know that?"
Their faces fell. "You're lying," the redhead said, his face going white. "You weren't married to no judge."
"Yes, I was boys. He's still insanely jealous, even though he divorced me because he caught me having an affair. He told me he'd crucify any man who ever made love to me, if he found out about it."
The blond youth got up and walked away from her. "She's right, Joe. We better get the hell out of here. Her husband-I've heard of that guy. That judge. He's a tough bastard. He's real tough on teen-agers."
Joe released Mrs. Dodds and also got to his feet. "Damn it," he growled. "Just when we could have had some fun."
"Come on, Joe. We gotta get out of here. If she tells the judge, we're in a hell of a spot."
"You're showing very good judgment, boys," Mrs. Dodds said as she got calmly to her feet and walked behind the bar.
The youths started for the bedroom door, but Mrs. Dodds yanked the gun out, pointed it at them and called out to them.
"Just hold it right there, boys, or I'll shoot you."
The youths halted in their tracks.
"We didn't hurt you. You can't turn us over to the cops, lady-it wouldn't be fair."
"I could if I wanted to."
They both took a step in her direction. "Hold it right there, boys."
They stopped and looked at her.
"You can't leave, boys. I won't let you."
"Look, lady ... Mrs. Dodds, I mean. Let us go. We don't want no trouble with no judge."
Keeping the gun trained on them, Mrs. Dodds smiled and walked past them to her bedroom door. "Come here, boys. Into my bedroom."
They entered the room behind her and she lay down naked on the bed and spread her legs wide. Pointing the gun straight at them, she said, "I told you I was going to punish that little sneak, Robert. I meant it. And you two are going to tell him about what happens now."
"What?" the redhead asked, looking puzzled.
"What the hell you talking about, lady?" the blond boy asked, his jaw going slack.
"Both of you," she said, "are going to take me. Either that, or I'll shoot you. All right, Joe, you're first. Get on me."
"You crazy or something, lady?" the redhead asked.
"Maybe, but if you two don't please me as much as Robert did, I'm going to make a hole in each of you."
The two youths looked at one another with excitement and began to strip off their clothing hurriedly.
Mrs. Dodds smiled and this time placed only one hand behind her head.
