With his wrists tied to his ankles, it took Buck an hour to hobble out onto the highway. The first two cars almost hit him, but the third screeched to a halt, and a robust farmer came to his rescue. "Hey, you don't know how much I appreciate your stopping for me. You won't believe this, but these three girls picked me up and spent the day raping me and making me eat them. And then they took all my money and my clothes and tied me up so I'd be in this ridiculous position with my ass stuck up in the air."
The farmer looked the situation over, scratched his head, unzipped his fly and moved in behind him. "This jist ain't yur day, is it fella?"
Other than that, Buck's trip home was uneventful. When the farmer finished with him, he took pity on Buck and untied him. Buck knocked him out with a rock and stole his car.
CHAPTER ONE
Major Pembroke wasn't the most beautiful woman in Southeast Asia. Nor was she the ugliest. In a poll in which the men rated the sex appeal of some five hundred women in or around Saigon, she finished next to last, General Pine's wife having received three fewer votes.
But these results didn't stop Corporal Buck Riddleman from agreeing to have "intimate relations" with her. The clean-cut soldier, who was always compared in looks to either Clark Gable or David Janssen (depending on whether or not he was wearing a moustache), decided on this course of action for several valid reasons.
One, she was clean. It had been a rough spring. Buck had picked up the clap three times and Doc Douglas had told him his prostate was about to jump ship (Doc was an old Navy man and he had a minor orgasm every time he was afforded a chance to use this kind of lingo in an all-Army environment).
Two, Major Pembroke would be the perfect person to introduce him to the semi-lovely nurse who served under her. Doc Douglas had told most of them that he had recommended Buck for the leading role in the next Army training film, but Buck figured he'd burn that bridge when he came to it.
Three, she had asked him point-blank. Buck liked his job as driver for General Pine and he wanted to keep it. The closest thing he had come to a combat injury in the seventeen months since he'd been drafted was a slightly scalded thumb from an overheated radiator. Mrs. Pine had gotten him the job, but he knew that a word from Major Pembroke could as easily take it away from him.
The jeep crept slowly along the service road in a herky-jerky, stop-and-go fashion. Buck never drove without clutching his cock in a death grip with his left hand. This ounce of prevention made it impossible for him ever to shift gears, and there was not one single jeep in the motor pool with an automatic transmission. To decoy his actions he would run his hand directly to his raw crotch instead of it out of his left sleeve. He had sewn a glove to the end of the sleeve, the thumb and forefinger of which he would always pin together around the steering wheel to look as though he were driving with both hands.
"Sure is ... a lovely day ... for a drive ... isn't it, Major?"
"Yes, Buck ... but whatever's wrong ... with this vehicle?"
"Nothing at all ... ma'am ... it's the road ... mortar pocks ... you know?" He jerked up alongside a dilapidated tent and killed the motor. "Well, here we are. What do you think?"
"This is the NCO club?"
"None other. Dallas and I put it together all by ourselves," he said proudly.
"Who's Dallas?"
"General Pine's other driver. That's his jeep over there." Buck pointed to a clump of bushes on wheels. He unpinned his glove and got out. "I'll see what's happening and be right back. If the V.C. show up, honk the horn."
Buck drew his .45, walked around the tent and through the flap. He saw Dallas sucking the right tit of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. His jaw fell. She was a china doll in every sense of the word. Clad only in a scanty pair of black lace bikini panties, she had the clear, pale yellow skin of a baby spread over the small, curvesome frame of what was definitely a mature woman. Her eyes were like giant almonds, her mouth full and sensuously moist. Long, black, beautiful hair fell past perfectly symmetrical jugs, much larger than the average Asian's.
"Corporal Riddleman!" Dallas barked. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Well, I have to ... I mean, I must tell you ... " Buck stammered, unable to unglue his eyes from the lovely lady on the grass mat.
"Call me sir when you address me, soldier!"
For the first time Buck glanced at Dallas and noticed he was wearing the General's clothes. "Yes, sir. Whatever you say, sir. May I have a word with you, sir? Outside, sir? I assure you, sir, it's most urgent, sir."
"It better be!" Dallas snapped. Then to the woman, "I'll just be a moment, my love." He kissed her shoulder tenderly.
"Hurry," she moaned, grinding her hips slowly. "I don't want to get out of mood."
"Don't do that. Please, don't even think of it. I'll be right back." Dallas stood, but kept his six-foot, four-inch frame bent double to keep from bursting through the top of the tent. He grabbed Buck by the dog tags and yanked him outside, the latter having shown his reluctance to quit gawking at his girl. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Dallas whispered.
"Shhhh, not so loud. I got old lady Pembroke in the jeep. Over here." They both marched a few more yards into the jungle.
"What's Pembroke doing out here, man?"
"She put the muscle on me. Walked right up to my jeep and said, 'Corporal Riddleman, would you be interested in having intimate relations with me?' "
"Sheeeeeit! That's strong, baby. Personally, I'd rather shove old Homer into a dead chicken's ass, but you gotta hand it to the old broad-she's got plenty of hair."
"Imagine my scene! I'm going through a Hershey bar when she said it, so I start coughing almonds all over her uniform. Anyway, I gotta get her inside and service her or I'll be dodging bullets by the end of the week."
"We'll work something out," Dallas said, scratching the side of his head.
"Where, oh where did you find that boss cunt in there, man?"
"I'm at Pine's house making the bed, dig. I look out the window and there she is standing on the porch in this see-through silk handkerchief. Man, those nips were burning holes right through that thing. Then she called for the General. Well, I put my hand on the bedpost, looked up in the sky and said, 'I am a general!' "
"If old Pine Needles catches you in his clothes, you're going to wake up with your big black ass in a sling, Jim."
"I'm hip, but no problems in that department. The Cong mounted a big offensive this morning. They cut through D Company like they were standing still. The old fart didn't know what the fuck to do so he hopped a transport, flew to Hong Kong and checked into a whorehouse.
"Who is she?"
"Calls herself Mishu Oneka. Papers look good. They say she's a film star from Tokyo here to entertain the troops."
"You believe that?"
"If she's Japanese, I'm an American Indian."
"Vietnamese?"
"Oh, sure."
"Probably sent in to knock off Pine."
"No doubt about it. Whoever set it up sure went to a lot of trouble. She even has a forged letter of recommendation from Bob Hope."
"Search her?" Buck asked.
"First thing. She's clean. Not even a nail file."
"Maybe she's dosed."
"Who cares? I'd eat her on network television. I'm so full of penicillin my balls have turned a moldy gray."
"Fuck you! God gives me one allergy and that's the one he picked. You sure she's after Pine?"
"Oh, yeah. I had to identify myself with all kinds of shit before she'd even talk to me. Kept saying she didn't know we had any spade generals. Some nice-guy Americans must have taught her how to speak English. Look, what do you want to do, man? She's the greatest-looking piece these tired old eyes of mine have seen in a coon's age. Naw, I didn't say that. Anyway, I'm going to go back in there and fuck the truth out of her, Major or no Major."
"O.K. I'm going to stall ole Pembroke and join you."
"I can handle this one by myself, buddy."
"I insist, buddy," Buck said through a crocodile smile, slapping the taller man on the back. He walked back to Blanche Pembroke, slipping up on her blind side.
"Oh, don't ever do that again!" she squealed, holding her heart. "I thought you were one of those nasty V.C."
Buck laughed inwardly at the irony of her statement. If one of those skinny little bastards did happen upon this two-hundred-eighty pound WAC, he would be the one to have the heart attack. "Look, Blanche, I've got to-"
"Don't call me that."
"What should I call you?"
"You know." She blushed.
"Oh, yeah." He arched his eyebrow. "Now, see here, Scarlett, I've got to interrogate a prisoner."
"That sends chills all over my body," she said, with a shake. "How long will you be?"
Buck smacked his lips. " 'Bout fifteen minutes, baby. If you need anything, just honk."
"But Rhett, what if Ashley should happen by?"
"Tell him to go fuck himself."
By the time Buck got back into the tent, Dallas had undressed, pulled off the comely Oriental's panties and was lapping the full length of her fleshy box with his excited pink tongue. Mishu lay back with her eyes closed. Massaging her breasts as she pitched her pussy forward against Dallas' mouth, she flicked her goddess-like head from side to side while emitting a variety of soft squeaks and moans.
Seconds later a naked Buck Riddleman knelt at her side and replaced her hands with his own. She opened her big brown eyes and stared up at him through the dopey glaze that covered them. "Do you mind?" he asked.
"You friend to General Pine?"
"Yes. Very close personal friend."
"He General Pine?" she asked, nodding her head toward Dallas.
"Oh, yes ma'am, that's the man."
"You sure?"
"I sure," Buck answered. He leaned forward and captured one of the large, granite-hard nipples in his mouth. "I very sure."
"You work with him on all matters?"
"All matters." The taste and texture of her exquisite knockers set up a nervous flutter throughout Buck's entire system.
"O.K. You can stay." She bit him lightly on the ear-lobe and dug her tongue inside. Buck felt as if a long, wet passionate snake was curling around in his ear, trying to gain access to his brain. He felt faint and began to slip a little.
The next thing he remembered was her touching his cock. This gesture brought him fully awake again. She didn't have to coax it up. It sprang to full size like the time-lapsed shot of the boy growing on the Wonder Bread television commercial. She smiled. "What a nice surprise package!" The difference in size between hard and soft made his cock seem quite a bit larger than its seven inches. Were it not for this optical illusion, Buck's ego wouldn't allow him even to speak to Dallas, much less ball with him. Buck remembered the first time he had seen the ex-football star from Texas. Dallas had casually strolled into the shower twirling his tool like a lasso. To heighten the illusion he whistled The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You. Buck felt sick to his stomach that day. For the first time in his life he had understood how it felt to be prejudiced.
Mishu moistened both of her tiny hands with spittle; and Buck, without releasing the supple breast in his mouth, shifted up on his knees to allow her to reach him easily. There was less friction now as her dainty fingers fluttered over his instrument. She toyed with his balls and traced the underside tube all the way to the head, trying to draw lubricating droplets from him as one might try to coax out that last bit of toothpaste hiding in the bottom of the tube. But none came forth. Reluctance held it back.
Buck had had mental blocks before. He could usually spring himself free from them by concentrating on a particularly bizarre sexual experience from his past. He remembered an especially delightful evening at college. Having learned that he had just flunked Greek for the fourth consecutive semester, he had staged a one man panty raid on the sorority house next door. In doing so he had interrupted their mystical rite of initiation and was subjected to the humiliating punishment of having eight lusty pledges make love to him, all at the same time, on a big bearskin rug in front of a roaring fire and the entire membership of said sorority.
He began to sweat as he always did when recalling this incident, and Mishu was doing her part by increasing the tempo and pressure of her manipulations; but he was losing his battle with himself and his hard-on began to fade.
It was time for the fantasy that never failed. Buck closed his eyes and concentrated. He saw his lovely blonde buxom wife, Gina, sitting on the porch of their home in Pennsylvania. It was the hot time of the day, and Gina was uncomfortable in her clothes. George Matthews, the mailman, delivered a Reader's Digest Condensed Book and asked for a drink of water.
In the kitchen, they spoke of the horrors of war and the lonely lot that befell a soldier's wife. In the bedroom, Gina showed him recent snapshots received from Buck, and George showed her nine inches of raw muscle. As though struck by a thunderbolt, Gina fell to her knees and sucked wantonly on his extended scepter, paying the greatest homage to its owner as she did. As he emptied his seed into Gina's grateful mouth, George bit into the leather strap of his mail pouch and thought about Sophia Loren.
George carried Gina to the bed. As she pulled her dress over her head, he removed her soaking wet panties and began to eat her golden box with great gusto. Seven men, all prominent members of the community of Fletcher Falls, entered and had their turn with Gina (the credibility of Buck's fantasy always fell completely apart at this point).
Pushing George aside, Brice Lee, the grocer, dropped his pants and buried the full length of his cock into the depths of Gina's throbbing cunt. She screamed and hit a major climax the moment he entered her. As Brice worked her into a deeper frenzy, Mike Parker, Fletcher Falls' burly mechanic, walked to the head of the bed and laid his rigid weapon on her lips. Dell Robinson, owner of Robinson's Chevrolet, parked across the bed from Mike and started working on Gina's glorious titties. The huge melon-shaped breasts toppled first this way then that as her thrashing motions shifted their respective centers of gravity. Dell captured one of her taut nipples with his mouth and gently massaged the other with his hand, inadvertently brushing against Brice's chest as he did. Brice gave Dell a dirty look. He had never forgotten the time Dell had offered to suck him off that time they were playing doctor with Debbie Russell. They were both nine years old at the time.
Finding Dell's cock with her hand, Gina held it tightly by the head and swallowed another inch of Mike's seemingly endless pecker. "Oh ... yes ... everybody do it!" she said, breathing like a long distance runner, then immediately going back down on Mike. Her orgasms were of medium intensity, but coming about every thirty seconds.
"Oh, take it baby-take it all!" Mike shouted, trying to dig some of the grease out from under his fingernails with his teeth. "Oh, shit, woman, I'm gushing! Suck it, suck it, suck it!"
Gina was flooded with come from all directions. No sooner had Mike shot off in her mouth than Dell had gone beyond his point of no return. "No, wait, I don't want to ... OHHHHHHHHHHH!" he screamed as his cock exploded in her hand, shooting a wad of come all the way to her shoulder. She opened her eyes just in time to see the source of the semen hitting her on the leg, side, and arm. Jim Christopher (barber), Mason Brooks (Fletcher High principal) and David Long (real estate men) were all standing over her, jerking off. The expressions on their faces ran the gamut of emotions from extreme pleasure to anguish.
The seventh man was doing his thing all by himself. The town banker, Carl Phillips, had slipped into the closet, adjusted the door so he could watch the action through the keyhole, and was beating his meat vigorously. The group orgasm he was watching caused him to shoot all over his two-hundred-dollar suit.
Brice drilled Gina's snatch harder and faster. "Oh yes ... I'm com ... ing too ... right now!" He plunged his cock in to the hilt and sprayed the inside of Gina's oven-like pussy with hot come.
Gina didn't think she had any orgasms left, but she made one more trip to the well and landed a really big one. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!" She flopped all over the bed like a balloon from which the air had been released, slipped over the side of the bed, fell on the floor and fell asleep.
* * *
"You not like Mishu?"
"What?" Buck asked, snapping out of his daydream. "I not pretty enough to make you sexy?"
"Baby, you're pretty enough to make me cream in my britches."
Buck looked down at his cock and was astonished to find that it was as soft as oatmeal. In his mind he had the hard-on of a horse on his first stud date. "Son-of-a-bitch, I don't know, love."
"Concentrate on business. I play and nothing happen. Meantime you a million miles away."
Not hearing any of their conversation, Dallas kept lapping away and sucking her petite pussy like a milking machine left on all night. Buck looked into Mishu's eyes. What the fuck is blocking things? he thought. Here is the most beautiful woman in the whole world, maybe, and you can't even get it up.
Slowly Mishu turned toward his crotch. As she showed him her profile, a flash of recognition hit Buck. It was like a voice way down deep in his brain telling him not to fuck her-to get the hell out of there as fast as he could. Where had he seen her before? Why was his subconscious resisting so strongly? He almost had the answer; but now she had his cock between her soft, fleshy lips. Whatever thought had tried to manifest itself in his brain was washed away by this magnificent creature's warm saliva being spread all over his cock with her tongue. Gone too was the mental block. As though aided by a second wind, his rod sprang to full size again.
Reversing his position on the bed, Buck brought his ass up alongside Mishu's face, making it easier for her to keep sucking him. He kissed her breasts for a little while, then made the long trip down her ribs and belly, tickling every inch of her with his moustache as he nibbled and kissed his way to the soft-haired bush of her sex. "Whatcha doing?" he asked Dallas, eyeball to eyeball.
"My name is Andrew Pine. I'm a two-star general in the United States Army and I don't have the slightest fucking notion what my serial number is." He smiled faintly and returned to his work.
Buck worked his tongue into his friend's territory; and when he got a firm hold on Mishu's clit, Dallas retreated to the lower region and repeatedly worked his tongue in and out of her pussy. Buck closed his eyes and teased Mishu's growing clit with the tip of his tongue.
Drifting again, Buck imagined he was back in his bedroom in Pennsylvania. This time he was a picture hanging on the wall. Gina lay on the bed, naked. She hunched and flailed her arms as though having a torrid wet dream. Roger Stanton burst through the door with a shit-eating grin on his face. This was Congressman Roger Stanton, the best-looking, richest, most intelligent man ever to hail from Fletcher Falls. Buck hated his guts, and now the son-of-a-bitch was leering at his beautiful wife and pulling off his clothes.
Stanton dropped his pants, revealing boxer shorts made out of an American Flag. With a Charles Atlas gesture, he stepped out of them. His cock was big (much bigger than Buck had intended to imagine it) and around it were hundred-dollar bills which clung to him as iron filings cling to a magnet. He brushed them away and more appeared, until the room was raining hundred-dollar bills, and Gina was awakened by this shower of falling money. Stanton finally reached the end of the supply, and now his cock was about the size of a cigarette.
Biting into what he thought was his tongue (it was really Mishu's clit), Buck watched, helplessly hanging on the wall, as Stanton mounted his wife and began fucking her. Gina cried out as though Stanton's cock was tearing her a new pussy, and every time she touched the heap of money on her chest she would reach a climax.
She pulled away and started sucking his tiny organ, complaining that it was too big for her cunt. Buck felt both excitement and revulsion surge through his body as he watched the love of his life sucking off the man he despised more than any other in the world.
Mishu pulled his hair to warn him not to bite her anymore, since he had not responded to her cries. Buck took her gesture to mean she wanted him closer to her, so he turned back around, straddled her with his back to Dallas and reinserted his cock in her mouth. Then he picked up his fantasy where he had left off.
"God bless Dick Nixon!" Roger Stanton bellowed, his little tool recoiling as it ejaculated.
"Mmmm, boy, good!" Gina exclaimed, spitting silver dollars into her hand.
"Oh, shit, baby, I'm coming!" Buck shouted, emptying his load into the smacking lips between his legs.
Dallas pulled himself up on his knees, spread Mishu's legs over his thighs and pushed Homer's huge head into the small opening below Mishu's glistening slit. He was glad Buck was blocking her vision of the gigantic monster.
"Oh, no! Please, General, don't!" she screamed. Buck pinned her arms back over her head. More than once he had helped his buddy in this fashion. The size of Dallas' cock had frightened more than one would-be victory into a sure defeat. Homer was so big, Buck wondered why Dallas didn't take it off his income tax as a dependent.
"Coming through, love," Dallas said. "Get a firm grip on something!"
"No, no! Listen! You don't understand! I -"
Dallas hit it, plunging Homer in as far as he could.
Major Pembroke was the only person to hear the explosion. Smoke was pouring out of the tent, and both men lay unconscious when she got there. They were badly burned, but still alive. Not so the girl. Blanche didn't even bother listening for her heartbeat.
Few men possess either the stamina or the stomach necessary to have gotten those men back to camp and into the medical tent, but Blanche handled the task with ease.
* * *
The nurse was dedicated. She had joined the corps to meet men, not being able to get their attention back home. However, in her new environment Molly was treated like a raving beauty. She was a twenty-seven-year-old virgin when she arrived, but in the last year and a half she had had the pleasure of thirty-two different men. Molly loved the war and prayed nightly that it would never end.
"Your friend wake up yet?" Molly asked Buck.
"Nope. It's been three days now. You sure he's not dead?"
"He'll be all right. He's got a heart like a bass drum." She emptied the bottle of lotion on his charred back and smeared it gently over his wounds.
"What happened out there?"
"We don't know yet. I think Doc Douglas has a report. Turnover on your side."
Painfully Buck obeyed, exposing his naked but uninjured front. Molly continued to massage him with another cream. "Mmmmmm, that's nice. A little lower, please." She moved her hands to his stomach. "Good, good, but just a little lower."
"You mean here?" Molly asked, rubbing his cock.
"I think you just found the heart of problem." Buck reached under her skirt and slid his hand up between her legs. Molly wasn't wearing any panties, a fact which made this conquest a somewhat hollow victory for Buck. After a few dry runs over the area, Buck pried open her lips and discovered she was quite wet under the surface. Her pussy opened and welcomed his finger inside. He slipped another finger past her gate and explored the walls and the cervix while diddling her clit with his thumb.
Coating both her hands with the soothing cream, Molly began to pull and fondle Buck's weapon with more intensity. They were working in unison now, each motivating the other to work faster and harder.
"Where's the motherfucker that turned out the lights?" Dallas mumbled. He was stretched out on his back, wrapped in enough bandage to allow him to gain easy entrance to a KKK meeting.
"Don't stop," Buck whispered, holding her hands in place.
"But he's waking up."
"No, no. He's been talking like that for a couple of days." She resumed her manipulations and Buck's cock reached its full size. With his other hand he reached under her skirt and came up behind her. He lightly teased the surface of her ass while continuing to finger fuck her with his other hand. He was about to come and knew she wasn't far behind. "Eat me," he said softly.
"But I hardly know you."
"I'll tell you the story of my life if you'll eat me. I want to feel the softness of your lips around the head of my cock. I want your mouth, Molly. I want to bathe my throbbing rod in the hot wet pocket of your sucking mouth."
"No."
Buck quickly found her asshole and plunged his finger past the sphincter, digging deeper like a dumdum shell. Before she could react to this, he re-moistened the area of her clit and pinched it with the tenacity of a snapping turtle.
"Oh! Oh, oh!" She bent forward, trying to push her butt out of his reach, but Buck held his ground, digging and pinching, deeper and harder. Her mouth was just above his cock, but she did not move that extra necessary inch.
Buck bucked forward to make contact, and when he did, all the flood gates opened. Her asshole clenched so tightly around his finger he couldn't have withdrawn it had he wanted to. He plunged his fingers into her cunt and it responded the same way. When he ground her clit hard against her pubic bone, with his thumb, her thighs gripped his hand like a vise, both wanting him and wanting to be free of him at the same time. She opened her mouth and closed it around his dick. He was gone. The change in temperature and texture pushed him over the fine edge on which he had been delicately balanced. His come gushed forth like fire from a flamethrower, and she hit still another orgasm-the strongest yet. Her body grew rigid as a railroad tie, cutting off all circulation in both of his wrists. As the thought that amputation might be the only answer flashed through Buck's mind, she relaxed and he quickly withdrew his two bloodless, twisted hands and clapped them together until some color returned. Molly looked under the bed for the bedpan, but it wasn't there.
"Four bells, mates! Let's see those little pink tongues." Doc Douglas' disposition was always so cheerful that everybody hated him. "Well, Molly, how are my swell little sailors this fine day?" She didn't answer. "No trouble aboard, I hope." Still no answer. "Come, come, what is it? Spit it out, girl."
"She can't," said Dallas. "She just sucked off old Bucky's banana and doesn't quite know what to do with the seeds."
"Dallas," Buck chided, "is that a very nice thing to say?"
Molly closed her eyes and swallowed. "It's a lie! A god-damned ... uh oh!" She gagged, covered her mouth and bolted outside.
"Take a few seasick pills next time, my dear," the Doc called after her. "Good for any emergency. Now, you mates know what happened out there?"
"I figure we got hit by a mortar," Buck said.
"I did too when I first saw you," Douglas said. "But I took a ride out there to examine the girl, and the tent is still intact."
"How about a grenade?" Dallas asked. "Since Buck got it on the back and I took it on the chest and stomach, that's the only thing that makes any sense. One of those little motherfuckers just flipped a grenade right between us and ran like hell." Dallas chuckled. "Good thing old Homer was covered."
"Just where was, uh ... old Homer at the time?" the Doc asked.
"Buried in the broad-where else?"
"That's what I thought." The Doc showed them some pictures. "Does she look familiar?"
"Sure," Buck answered, "that's the woman we ... son-of-a-bitch! Dallas, I knew I'd seen her somewhere before. That's Madame Shu! You remember? Pine had her old man shot for selling shit on the black market."
"Yeah, I remember. She went over to the V.C. and offered her services as a spy."
"Not a spy, gentlemen, the spy. She's responsible for the death of more men than Helen of Troy. Pine's on his way over to decorate you two wonderful guys. Times sure have changed. In my day you would have been shot for impersonating an officer."
"When are we getting out of here, Doc?" asked Dallas.
"Well, topside you're all right, Dallas, but below the water line you're not worth a shit."
"How bad is it?"
"Didn't Molly tell you?"
"Naw, I haven't even spoken to her. Been playing opossum."
"Well, son," Douglas said, after clearing his throat, "it's like this." Doc wasn't smiling, and Dallas didn't like that a bit. "Madame Shu thought up an ingenious method of smuggling explosives into camp. She had some plastic explosive made up in a package about the size of a bottle cap, put it up her snatch, and came looking for Pine. It was a spin-off on the old kamikaze routine. Somehow you managed to convince her you were Pine, so when old Homer reared his ugly head ... "
"Fuuuuuuuck you, Dick Tracy! I had a wet dream last night. How could that be if what you said was true? Not only that, but just a little while ago when Buck was getting his gun, old Homer got so hard I could have used him for a crowbar."
"That's not at all unusual, Dallas," Doc said. "Sometimes, years after a man has lost a leg he will feel his toes itch. The old skipper wouldn't lie to you about a thing like this, mate. I put you back together with Elmer's glue and chicken wire, so if anyone knows, I do. Homer didn't make the trip back with you. And that's a cold hard fact." Doc Douglas glanced at their charts in silence, then left the tent.
The long silence that followed was broken by Dallas. "He's just lying out there in the mud, Buck, with the rain beating down on him and the sun baking him like a dried-up lizard."
"It's a bad scene, baby, but ... I mean, don't take it so hard, man. Like it's not the end of the world or anything."
"Really? Tell me about it, Jim. Do you really think there's a place in this world for a nigger Myra Breckenridge?"
"Whew! I don't know, Jack. This whole scene is really blowing my mind. Why didn't I stop it? I knew I'd seen her some place before, man, but I didn't follow through on it. That boss cunt on her blinded me like a searchlight." Dallas got out of bed, wavered a bit, then regained his balance. "Hey, where are you going?" Buck got up too, and leaned back against the bed until the room stopped spinning.
"I'm going to go get Homer. He wouldn't leave me out there for the dogs to eat."
"Now, hold on there just a damn minute. You can't go out there. Word is the Cong took that whole section where we put the club. They'll blow your black ass all over the countryside."
Dallas doubled up his bandaged fists as Buck staggered over to him. "You man enough to stop me?"
"Hell no! I just want to see those poor bastards when you get through with them. Besides, this place is beginning to bore the shit out of me. Let's go."
"You're the ... you're the best friend I've ever had, Buck. I've wanted to tell you that for a long time, but ... well, I just never seemed to get around to it."
Buck wasn't paying any attention to Dallas. He was looking at the floor trying to figure out how to react to that last statement when Dallas hit him. It was a clean punch-a crisp right cross to the jaw. Dallas caught him before he fell, carried him back to his bed and laid him on his stomach.
Outside, the first jeep that came along skidded to a stop in front of Dallas, splattering his all-white getup with mud. "Hey, fella," the driver said, with a chuckle, "where you going-to a Halloween party?"
"Yeah, baby," Dallas answered, grabbing the driver straight out of his seat and tossing him into the closest mud puddle. "Trick or treat." He climbed in and roared down the road that led to the club.
* * *
"Donald Duck, this is Apple Company! Come in Donald Duck!" The young lieutenant's head moved from side to side like a spectator at a tennis match, trying to see in all directions at once as he barked into the walkie-talkie.
"Apple Company, this is Donald Duck," came the reply. "Go ahead."
"Looks like I've got us between a rock and a hard place, Chief. They've got us surrounded on three sides and backed against this little piss anthill."
"Give us your exact position, Apple Company."
"We're right in the middle of Boardwalk, about three spaces from the western border. We were pushed out of Park Place about two hours ago and completely cut off from our company."
"What is your number?"
"Rigid fox (forty-five)."
"How big is Victor Charlie?"
"Foxie dumdum (five hundred). I don't think we have a prayer in hell, sir." There was a definite shudder in the lieutenant's voice. "As we try to retreat over the hill, the lousy bastards pop us off from the trees!"
"Get a hold of yourself, Apple Company, and watch your tongue."
"Yes, sir." His voice became more deliberate and dropped in pitch. "Can we have some air cover?"
"Negative. Not for two hours."
"Two hours! Shit, man, we're going to be wearing these motherfuckers in about ten minutes!"
"Hold your position, Apple Company. Over and out."
The lieutenant slammed the walkie-talkie to the ground and leaned forward. "Dig in, Smitty, and pass the word." Smitty whispered the command to the man on his left.
Every sound died. It was the kind of sudden stillness that makes a man tap his ear to be sure he hasn't gone deaf. Five minutes passed-five maddeningly quiet minutes. Then the far edge of the rice paddy that separated the Americans from the enemy began to move. The lieutenant raised his glasses to his eyes with trembling fingers, and all hell broke loose. The paddy suddenly became filled with Cong, all screaming and firing their weapons as they charged forward.
"Hold your fire-they're out of range!" screamed the lieutenant. The second wave of enemy troops closely followed the first. A few of them fell. "Goddammit, I said hold your fire!"
"That wasn't us, Larry," Smitty said.
A few more Cong fell, then they all turned and started firing back into their own troops.
"Larry, what's happening?"
"Damn if I know. They seem to be shooting at each ... Jesus Christ, there's a seven-foot mummy out there with a machine gun!"
"A what?"
"He's charging right through the middle of them, blasting away on both sides, and they're killing each other trying to shoot him! I can't believe he ... look at that son-of-a-bitch run! Let's get 'em!" The lieutenant led the attack, and the recharged band of fifty Americans formed a wall of loud and instant destruction as they sprinted directly into the confused enemy, their automatic rifles and sub-machine guns blazing.
The battle lasted less than five minutes, and when the smoke cloud lifted, the rice paddy looked as though it had been irrigated with blood. One-hundred-forty-five North Vietnamese troops lay dead in the mud and two-hundred-seventy more were wounded and/or captured, the rest having fled in retreat. Only nine Americans were killed, seventeen wounded.
"Here he is, Lieutenant!" shouted one of the soldiers, kneeling over Dallas as he lay face-down in the vestigial remains of the NCO Club. The heavy machine gun he had carried lay smoldering beside him, void of ammunition. The soldier counted thirty-six wounds on his body. Most of the bandages had been blown away.
"Talk about overkill," Smitty said. "They must have thought he was a ghost. And why not?" He pointed down a strip of land lined on both sides with enemy dead. "He started over there-two hundred yards away! It's incredible! Imagine what this dude could have done in a Super Bowl game."
"What's he got in his hand, Smitty?" asked the lieutenant.
Using all his strength to pry open Dallas' fingers, Smitty quickly dropped the hand of the dead man and looked up. Tears were forming in his eyes. "Sir, they ... the dirty bastards shot off his cock!"
"I figure there are about a hundred of those yellow motherfuckers still hiding out there in the bush!" the Lieutenant bellowed to his men. "I'm going after them! Anybody want to come along?!"
"I DO!" answered the rest of the men in unison.
CHAPTER TWO
It took a long time for Dallas to get to his final resting place in Meridian, Mississippi. General Pine accompanied his body to a mammoth patriotic rally in Madison Square Garden. From there, aboard a special red, white and blue train, he and the corpse of his ex-driver made every whistle-stop along the way. The General delivered the same speech, delivered in the same Hawkish manner, on the average of a dozen times a day. His rhetoric was a curious mixture of William Jennings Bryan and General Bullmoose.
A giant replica of the Congressional Medal of Honor was hung on the back of the train after the presentation in Washington D.C.; and the General wanted to tie live American Eagles to the platform, but the N.S.P.C.A. intervened. Armed with the results of this campaign (forty thousand recruits), the General left Dallas in the Meridian depot, jetted back to Washington and made an impassioned pro-escalation speech before a joint meeting of Congress.
* * *
With his wounds completely healed and General Pine in the United States, Buck was faced with the horrible reality of being sent into actual combat, and decided to take matters into his own hands.
"Riddleman, what the hell are you trying to pull?" yelled Doc Douglas, storming into the medical tent, his face livid with anger.
"Why, I can't imagine what you're talking about," Buck answered, pulling his sheet up just under his eyes.
"This is what I'm talking about," snorted Douglas, throwing a medical report on Buck's chest. "This is the report on Dallas. What's your name doing on it?"
"My, my. Molly must have gotten confused and mixed them up."
"I'm not a green ensign, Riddleman. You deliberately forged these papers, and I want to know why!"
Buck thought for a moment. "Would you believe me if I told you that I wanted all the women to think I was castrated so I wouldn't get the clap anymore?"
"No."
Another pause. "Would you believe that I looked it up and discovered I could get a medical discharge?"
"That I'd believe. Why did you do it?"
"It's been a busy war for you, Doc. I didn't think you'd notice."
"Are you a coward?"
"Hell, yes! Look, I'm thirty-four years old. I haven't got any business here with these gung-ho kids. Oh, I used to be brave. When I was nineteen, I used to drink a quart of gin and floorboard my old car all the way to New York City in a blinding snowstorm just to get a piece of ass. But no more."
"You're not thirty-four. You don't look a day over twenty-five."
"The hell I'm not-here's my I.D." Buck handed him his wallet. "Doc, you send me into combat and it's going to be on your conscience. Do you know how many brave men can die because of just one coward? Shit, I might even cause us to lose the war."
"This is ridiculous; they don't draft men in their thirties."
"Tell me about it. Doc, you remember the story about old King David and a broad called Bathsheba?"
"Sure, David sent her husband off to war so he could marry her."
"Well, just call me Uriah. I come from a little town called Fletcher Falls, and there's a big tall hill just outside the city limits. On that hill is a big tall house owned by a big tall cat. And this cat is a congressman-a horny congressman. And he's been trying to ball my old lady for ten years. Any more questions?"
Doc Douglas looked closely at Buck's I.D. to be sure it was authentic. "Just one."
"What?"
"Don't you find it hard to pee with no cock?"
"Thanks, Doc."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen anything or heard anything. Just one examination and your ship will sink. If that happens I won't be aboard." He shook Buck's hand. "Good luck, son. You'll need it."
"Happy sailing, Doc. You'll make Admiral yet."
As soon as Doc left, Molly crawled out from under the next bed. She was completely naked. "Whew, that was close," she said, sealing off the bed visually with two screens, then crawling under the covers. "I thought he'd never leave."
A few moments later the lights went off. Molly brushed back the covers and positioned herself between Buck's legs. With long slow strokes of her tongue, she lapped at his genitals as a dog might leisurely lick his favorite bone. Starting at his asshole, she pressed hard with the broad flat center section of her tongue all the way to the tip of his quickly enlarging prick, letting the tip of her torrid lingual muscle dance teasingly along behind. Only three laps were necessary to produce in him a state of complete erection. At this point she engulfed the head with her mouth and began bobbing up and down. Again the key word best descriptive of her lovemaking was "slow." Her lips and tongue worked over the slippery peak of his cock in agonizing slow motion. It was as though her curiosity for learning the nature of his instrument had increased to the point that she intended to savor every single pore and hair follicle.
Buck's need for release became unbearable. He whispered, "Molly, I want you now. Come up here. I want to go inside you."
"Shhh, in a minute." She continued her oral examination, sucking, kissing, locking the warm flesh, constantly keeping the head under close surveillance. She gave the glands area her special attention, toying that spot with the tip of her tongue, going elsewhere, quickly returning to the glands and planting upon it a passionate kiss which would stir a rumbling in his balls, going elsewhere, returning to toy again.
"I don't ... I don't want to make any noise or anything, Molly, but you ... you better let me in before I have a heart attack." And "heart attack" was the best possible way for Buck accurately to describe what was happening within him. As a man will always have a pronounced heart fluttering at the moment of orgasm, Molly had brought him so close to that point that his heart had passed through the flutter stage and was now beating so wildly that it seemed to be outside his body trying to pound its way in.
The movements were even slower now. Molly knew that a torrent of hot come was only a swift lick away. Her mouth surrounded the head of his cock now, but her lips and tongue touched it as lightly as possible. When she felt the sperm duct enlarge and the surface become as rigid as any solid matter on earth, she would open her mouth slightly, break contact, wait until the symptoms subsided, then repeat the process.
"I'm going to die," Buck moaned, in utmost agony. "There's no doubt about it. I'm just going to die. Do it now, Molly. Please!"
Molly quickly backed to the end of the bed and crawled off. "Do it yourself, you son of a bitch! You almost cost me my job. And nobody loves their work as much as I do." She wrapped a sheet around her and disappeared into the night.
Buck shouldn't have gone to his mouth for saliva; because before he could complete the motion and reach his throbbing cock, it discharged a big glob of semen that arched like a mortar shell and struck him in the left eye. The recoil of this shot sent his cock in the opposite direction, and the second volley produced a driblet of come which hit his knee and rolled down the side of his calf.
The lights flashed on and a hand came through the screen and shook Buck's leg. "Wake up, Riddleman. You've got to get out of here!"
"Who's that?"
Doc Douglas pushed the screen aside and wiped the come off his hand with the bed sheet. "My CO. wants to see a castrated G.I. Claims he's never had the honor. I've got a copter waiting to take you to Saigon. Hit it! Now!"
"But my clothes?"
"Fuck it! Use a sheet. You're a sick man. Run!"
Tossing a sheet over his shoulders, Buck bolted from the tent, made a sharp right turn, crashed into Major Pembroke and bounced back on his ass in a mud puddle. "Buck, darling, I was just coming to see you," she said, helping him up.
"Can't talk to you now, Scarlett," he said, hiking his eyebrow. "Sherman's set fire to Atlanta, and I've got to go put it out." He sprinted off toward the helicopter.
"Wait, Buck! When will I see you again?"
"Personally, my dear," he called back as he reached the door, "I don't give a rotten shit!" He climbed aboard.
"Hey, soldier!" the pilot screamed over the roar. "You get caught out of your uniform and you'll be in big trouble!"
"Mister, you don't know the half of it!" He looked back and Blanche was almost there. "Hey, Jack, get this motherfucker off the ground! You and I put together can't whip this chick."
Just as the whirling monster began to lift off, Blanche got a hold on the side of the ship. Buck thought about kicking her fingers; but no more than fifteen feet off the ground, she lost her grip and hit the mud with a big splat.
* * *
Gertrude Pine offered Buck refuge from the foul Saigon weather and cried audibly nonstop for four hours after he told her of his sexual alteration. He implored her not to let Major Pembroke know he was staying there, fabricating the lie that he didn't have the heart to tell her he was no longer a whole man. She agreed to keep his presence there a secret.
Within a week Doc Douglas had sent him his clothes, personal effects (two Playboy magazines and a carton of amyl nitrate capsules), his medals (among them a Silver Star conferred upon him by General Pine before he left for the United States); and, most important of all, the Doc's statement that Buck had lost his adultery stick in line of duty.
More red tape in Saigon applying for separation-papers. A very pretty WAC secretary picked up on Buck's groovy moustache, put their relationship immediately on a first-name basis, and started playing with her necklace as she nervously awaited his proposition. Thinking him shy, she glanced over his report. "Buck, how long have you been ... uh, suffering from this malady, Mr. Riddleman?"
Her words froze over so quickly that Buck felt like vaulting the desk and fucking her brains out right on the spot. But after a moment of restrained consideration, he reasoned that this might not be the best of all possible times and places to assert his masculinity.
Weeks went by. At first he helped Gertrude with her diplomatic duties, escorting beautiful entertainers and visiting dignitaries to parties. This proved to be most frustrating. Whether consciously or subconsciously, every single one of these enchanting ladies sensed his total lack of interest in sex and wound up making him the boldest propositions he had ever heard. He felt like a diabetic in a candy factory.
He finally confined himself to writing letters in the General's bedroom. On the walls were many photographs of the General under combat conditions (rigged up just behind his house). Buck and Dallas were in many of these shots and while looking at them it dawned on Buck that Dallas was in this very room the first time he saw Madame Shu. He looked out the window where the beautiful but have stood that deadly woman must have stood that day. He felt something on his shoulder and had the eerie feeling that the shade of Dallas was reaffirming their friendship. He was as same phenomenon many times in the future-particularly when watching Japanese movies.
Buck mailed his letter to Gina (more a novella than a letter), telling her how much he missed and loved her-how he longed to be in her arms again and soap her magnificent breasts in the shower-his orders arrived to ship out.
Gina had written him too, but he was gone before her it arrived. By contrast it was a very short letter. Bearing an Acapulco postmark, it read:
Dear Buck,
I divorced you a few days ago and married Roger. I couldn't stand being without a man another minute. It was driving men crazy. Buck, I want you to know I was faithful to you until last night. Roger and I are very much in love.
I hope you are well and getting plenty of nourishing food and are sleeping all right.
Love always,
Gina
P.S.: I hope you've shaved off that awful moustache.
CHAPTER THREE
Fletcher Falls hadn't changed a bit. Old Rosie, the station-master's spaniel, still harked the arrival and departure of every train. Rosie had a few less teeth since the last time Buck saw her, and her voice had lost some of its timbre; but she was still hanging in there.
Zeke Wilson sat on the station steps playing his monica. Zeke was owner and operator of the Fletcher Cab Company, his three sons being the drivers of the rest of the vehicles in the fleet.
"Hi, Zeke," Buck said, putting his bags in the backset of the cab and getting in the front.
"Hello, Buck," Zeke said, with no expression, pocketing his harmonica and sliding behind the wheel. "You know, you were right about old Sarah Mills." Zeke was picking up their last conversation as though two days rather than almost two years had passed since he had last seen the handsome soldier.
"How did you find out?" Buck grinned, playing along with the old man's game.
"Dropped in on her one night. Got the best blow job of my life. Yep, she really had me fooled there for awhile. Some private girl's school that place is. Why, I've hauled as many as forty out-of-towners up there on a Friday night. I meet 'em all here at the station. Some from Philly, some from New York City, even a few up from Baltimore, No telling how many more drive. She sure had me fooled. Why, I was even out trying to hustle up some students for her. Seventeen, that's how many women she has from all over the country. Where to?"
"Home. I want to surprise Gina."
Zeke glanced at him, then quickly started the cab and pulled out of the station. "How long's it been since you heard from her, Buck?"
"Couple of months. Why?"
"A man could get fucked to death up there."
"Where?"
"Sarah Mills' place. She's got a big blonde from California that could swallow the dong of my prize bull. And while she's eating you, this cute little redhead from Dallas licks your balls. Beats anything you've ever seen. One won't fuck or suck without the other. They call 'em the book-ends."
"Whew! I thought you were talking about my place for a minute there. You seen Gina lately?"
"Nope. Looks like the Pirates have a good shot at the pennant."
"What's the matter with you, Zeke?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, for one thing you're driving on the wrong side of the road. Anything happen to Gina?"
"Not that I know of."
"Look, you've got something stuck in your craw and I want to know what it is."
"Let Leo tell you about it, Buck. I swear I really don't know what's going on."
"Leo? He's away at college."
"Not now he ain't. Got kicked out. He's staying at your place. And here we are." Zeke pulled up to Buck's place, a small but well-built rock house on five beautiful acres. There was little grass near the porch since a huge weeping willow shaded that area; but outside that circle the grass was knee-deep and weeds had taken over and strangled the flowers Buck had so tenderly tucked into their beds.
"Jesus Christ," he moaned as he got out of the cab and handed Zeke his money. "What hit this place?"
"Glad to have you home, Buck," Zeke said, pulling away and disappearing in a cloud of dust.
The screen door had several holes shot out of it, and three of the glass panes of the Dutch door were broken. Buck found the door unlocked and walked in. As he scanned the living room he dropped his bags in shock. Vandals had cut the curtains, broken the pictures and paintings, smashed some of the furniture beyond repair and burned the rest in the fireplace.
"That you, Andy?" came a male voice from the bedroom. Seconds later Leo stood in the hallway. He was almost twenty, tall, skinny, shoulder-length hair, traces of a reddish beard, wearing a leather vest, velvet bell bottoms and sandals. His mouth dropped open in surprise. "Buck? What the shit are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same question. Who are you?"
"It's me, man!" Leo moved to hug his brother.
"Don't touch me, creep! Where's my brother?"
"I'm him, Buck! I'm Leo!"
"Sure, and I'm Tom Jones. My brother's a good-looking dude-crew cut, braces on his teeth, plays a lot of tennis."
Leo pulled off his shades. "That was a long time ago, man. Welcome home, baby." Buck froze, staring at him in disbelief. "You should have told me you were coming," Leo said, quickly picking up a few beer cans and tossing them into the fireplace. "I would have cleaned up the place." Buck didn't move or speak. "Hey, don't think I had anything to do with this mess. I caught a bunch of hippies shacked up in here and ran 'em off."
"Where's Gina?"
"You don't know?"
"Would I be asking if I did?"
Leo fired up a joint, took a hit and passed it to Buck. "Hang on, man. This is gonna blow your mind."
Buck refused the cigarette. "Just answer my question."
"Okay, if that's the way you want it. She split, man. Like, gone. After a quickie divorce in Mexico, she married Roger Stanton." Buck took the joint and sucked a puff all the way down to his toes. "I know she wrote you-she called and told me. You must have left before it got to you."
Slowly Buck sank to the carpet, taking another deep draw from the cigarette. It was good grass, moving quickly to his brain, stopping him from having to think about what Leo had just told him.
Leo left the room and returned with a very pretty naked girl. She was only about eighteen, small in stature. Pencil-eraser sized nipples stood out from each perfect handful of delicate breast. Soft brown hair fell all the way to her hips.
Buck couldn't hear what Leo whispered to her before she sat down next to him. He was suspended in time and space-coldcocked like a fighter out on his feet. He looked at the lovely glassy-eyed girl sitting beside him but didn't see her. He was aware that she was touching his hand and toying with hair on the back of his neck, but felt none of the warmth flooding from her.
She touched his face, tracing his eyes, nose and lips. With her hands cupped around his face, she slowly drew him to her and kissed him. Opening her moist soft mouth, she tried to find his tongue with her own, but Buck didn't respond. Abandoning that approach, she took his hands and placed them directly on her breasts; but when she released him, he withdrew.
Leo stood over them now. "Buck, wake up. This is my friend, Laurie. She wants you, man. Think about her for a minute. Gina's gone, but Laurie is here. That's the way the world is, and it's a total groove, man. Let her in. Take it from me, she gives head like she invented the art. And when it comes to fucking, watch out. She can wrap that crazy cunt around your cock as tight as a baby's fist."
"I don't think he's interested," Laurie said. "You must've laid some pretty strong news on this boy." She started rubbing her tits, driving her nipples out of their hiding places. "If I didn't know better, I'd think there was something the matter with me." Her nostrils flared to take in deeper breaths and her hands moved over the flawless surface of her young skin as though they belonged to an invisible lover. Finding her crotch, her fingers parted the lips of her pussy and probed her tender pink slit. She opened her legs to serve the double purpose of allowing her hands easier access and providing Buck with a better view of her autoerotic manipulations.
Buck felt saliva flow into his parched mouth as Laurie reached up and pulled Leo's pants down around his ankles. One of her hands returned to her wet snatch while the other guided Leo's semi-erect cock into her mouth. She toyed with the growing organ, making certain she was open to Buck's vision, as an actress in a fuck film will keep open to the camera. Before she realized it she was caught up in her own game, and the idea of being watched by a disinterested party excited her tremendously. Both hands were free now to do her hedonistic bidding. With one hand firmly established over, on and around her clitoris, she reached under her thigh with the other and entered her hungry cunt with one, then two, then three fingers.
Leo began to purr like an over loved kitten as Laurie licked his balls and the sides of his shaft. When his excitement produced a drop of spermless lubricant, she sucked his dripping weapon into the depths of her throat and drew out as much of the clear liquid as she could, then came off him again and tickled the slippery head of his tool with her fully extended tongue. Never-not for one instant-did she lose eye contact with Buck.
"Hey, you can't ... you can't do that," Buck said, feeling very warm under the collar. He squirmed into another position. The erotic demonstration he was watching caused within him simultaneous feelings of discomfort and great pleasure.
"Wha?" Laurie asked, meaning "what?"
"I mean you can't ... just sit there and suck off my own brother while ... I just sit here and watch you."
Laurie was playing a spin-off of the children's game in which each participant tries to stare down the other, and wild horses couldn't have gotten her to unglue her eyes from Buck's. She freed her lips from Leo's highly excited muscle. "Why not? I tried to get your attention and failed, so now I'm not bothering you anymore." She refused to break eye contact with Buck even as Leo pushed her down on her back and shoved his aching cock into her over ready cunt. "Oh ... oh yes." The glaze over her eyes became more pronounced as Leo fucked her, and she found it difficult to continue her conversation with Buck. "You're a ... very attractive man, Buck. The moment I saw you I knew I ... I wanted you. I knew I wanted to eat you and ... and feel your cock inside my hungry body. Like, you turned me on, man."
"How did I turn you on? I didn't do a thing."
"You didn't have to. There's ... oh, yes, Leo, harder! ... there's an electricity about you, and that moustache ... oh, how I'd love to feel your moustache brush against my clit."
"But this ... this is wrong. I turn you on and you fuck my brother."
"What should I do ... put my clothes on and go home? I hate clothes and I love to fuck and suck cock. It makes me happy. If you think it's wrong, you should leave, not me."
Buck touched his brother on the shoulder. "Leo, get off that girl right now!"
"Laurie, sweetheart, my balls are screaming!"
"Leo, if you don't climb off her, I'll pull you off!"
"Spare me, great white father! Can't you see I'm fuck-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG!!" Leo's cock exploded; and Laurie applied so much pressure with her cunt muscles that his come shot into her in an endless tiny stream, stabbing her walls and cervix like a stinging jet of water from a hot shower turned on full blast.
"OH, YES ... OH, GOD, YES ... I CAN FEEL IT CUTTING INTO ME LIKE ... AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!"
Buck let go of Leo's waist as the couple rolled away from him. They knocked over a few standing beer cans, and felt their bodies stiffen for a moment, then go completely lax.
They lay motionless for a few minutes. Leo was afraid he was crushing the breath out of Laurie, but he didn't have enough energy to get up. Laurie's head was spinning way off in space and she wasn't even aware of Leo's body weight. Slowly the couple untwined like two accident victims crawling out of a totally wrecked automobile.
"I would never have believed you would do such a thing, Leo," Buck said. "What would mom say if she walked in on you right now?"
"She did, man. Last week. Why do you think Laurie and I came over here? We were just having a little fun in the shower, and Mom came in and started whipping us with a wet towel. The whole scene really upset her." Leo went about the difficult task of getting dressed.
"And why shouldn't it? Must have really blown her mind to have seen her favorite son making out in the bathtub."
"Favorite son? Shit. She turned on me the day my voice changed. You too, if you think back on it. The day the old man left, she began to hate hard-ons with a passion. Why, she's even started a women's lib movement. Old man Phillips doesn't know what to do with her. She's been putting up all these anti-men posters in the bank. He'd fire her, but he's afraid the women would withdraw their money, and he's right. She has him right where she wants him-by the balls.
"I got to go find Andy. Probably fell in a hole or something. Oh, Andy's a friend from college. The three of us got kicked out at the same time. We set fire to the R.O.T.C. building. You should have been there, Buck. It was beautiful. It was such a turn-on we fucked for three days nonstop, didn't we, sweetheart?"
Laurie sat on the floor, combing her hair. "We'd still be there if you hadn't given up," she said with a grin, reestablishing contact with Buck's eyes.
Leo moved toward the door, dragging one leg as though he had been the victim of a devastating clip. "I'll be right back." He stumbled out onto the front porch and called his friend.
There was a moment of very loud silence for Buck as Laurie sat there staring at him as she combed her hair, making no attempt to cover her nakedness. "Where, uh ... where do you come from, Laurie?"
"Montana. Does it make you nervous for me to sit here like this, knowing how much I want to make it with you?"
Buck cleared his throat. "Yes ... yes it does. Look, I don't want you to think I'm a prude or anything. Any other time and I'd be panting after you like a dog after a bitch in heat."
"Why would you want to do a thing like that?" she said, teasing him by changing her poses.
"Because you are a ... very beautiful girl."
"Do you really think so?" She put down the comb and crawled over to where he was sitting.
"Yes I do. But you have to understand that I just found out that my wife has left me. We were married for almost twelve years and ... "
"That's a long time to be married to one person," Laurie said, leaning over and unbuckling his belt. "You are very lucky to have had such a long relationship."
"Stop that."
She unzipped his pants. "Most marriages flop in the first year." She reached through his boxer shorts and pulled his cock and balls out into view. "Oh, you feel good in my hand."
"I mean ... uh, a marriage like ours was ... well, it was good, Laurie, really good." There was something terribly feminine about the way she caressed his genitals, tugging at them gently, teasing them with ultra-light strokes, using the tips of her long, well-manicured nails to excite him.
"I'm sure it was, Buck. Why shouldn't it be? Leo has told me a lot about you. You're strong and handsome. A woman would be a fool not to want you to hold her in your arms and explore her body with your own. Surely you're aware of the effect you have on women. Slip out of your clothes."
"I'm very much ... aware of the effect you're having on me right now," he said, unbuttoning his shirt. "It would be kind of silly for me to say otherwise to one holding my fully-erected cock in her dainty hand, now wouldn't it?"
"Don't say anything to Leo, but while boys are great fun to fuck, it takes an experienced man to really spin my generator. Like right now, I'm about to faint just holding you like this. I'm flooded with an overwhelming desire to please you." She kissed him lightly on the lips and this time he responded. "And make you want me as I want you." She kissed his chest and stomach. "I so love the feel of your rigid cock in my hand, Buck. May I take it in my mouth?"
"Well, I guess it ... oh, god! That feels good!" A shudder passed over his body as she closed her lips around his hot tool. "Oh, Laurie, I'm so aware of your lips and tongue right now. Take it, baby. Take it all and let me get at you." Buck got up on his knees and laid Laurie on her back between his legs. Her mouth was sucking his cock and he played with her tits for a moment before leaning forward down the length of her body and pressing his mouth against her beautiful box. He divided his time and his tongue evenly between her clit and her cunt. The torrid tongue-fucking brought a short gasp followed by a long, low hum from Laurie-a hum which caused his prick and balls to vibrate, increasing his pleasure to a maddening degree.
Buck went on short interesting side trips, tonguing her ass and kissing the smooth young skin of her inner thighs. She could feel the hair of his moustache sometimes lead and sometimes follow his kisses all over the lower part of her gyrating body, and she loved the tickling sensation it produced. He spread her lips wide open with his fingers and zeroed in on her clit. It flipped away from its hood and he tested her stamina with a light bite. She came.
"UUUURRRRGGGGHHHHhlihhhhhh!" came a loud guttural sound from her as he bit and licked her over the edge. She came part-way back to earth and concentrated her lips and tongue just on the head of his throbbing weapon, tickling his balls with the nail tips of one hand, while entering and reaming his asshole with one of the fingers on her other hand.
Buck triggered her second orgasm, this one of the vaginal variety as his tongue flashed in and out of her pussy, approximating the speed of a hummingbird's wing. He felt himself dangerously close to coming as Laurie got all three phases of her lovemaking together, regulating the speed and pressure of her sucking, reaming, and tickling so these three separate stages were in unison.
Seeking new ways to increase her pleasure, Buck entered her burning cunt with his finger, and she gripped it firmly with her muscles and hunched against it. He lowered his hot mouth on to her clit again and penetrated the rosebud of her ass with the little finger of his free hand.
"Mummmmmmmmmmmmmmmml" came her high-pitched response as she hit her third and strongest climax. She increased her suction and hand play, pushing Buck right up to the point of no return.
"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOA!" he shouted, trying to stop the rumbling she had started in his balls. She might have released his tortured tool had he not shouted directly onto her over-excited clit, sending her higher than she had thought possible. She went completely out of control, kicking, flailing her arms, and sucking his cock as though her life depended on his coming in her mouth. He did.
"AAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" he yelled, as his load gushed into her mouth and down her throat like molten lava spewing from a volcano. She kept sucking long after the well was dry-long after he could no longer stand it, but didn't possess the strength to voice his objection, much less push her pumping mouth away from him.
Laurie finally relaxed and, still in the reverse position, they hugged one another and fell asleep. The last thing Buck remembered was how secure he felt hugging the delicious curves of Laurie's finely rounded ass. He dreamed he was lost at sea, but the dashing waves didn't frighten him because he held fast to the warm, fully-inflated sides of his rubber raft.
It was dark when he woke up and dressed. Leo had not returned. Buck dressed quietly and ignited a fire in the fireplace. The tongues of firelight danced over Laurie's flawless flesh and gave it a deeply sensuous bronze hue. He thought of awakening the young beauty by entering her with his quickly rising rod, but he changed his mind. What kind of son doesn't come see his mother his first day in town? he thought.
Buck Riddleman kissed his newfound (but most intimate) friend on the cheek and tiptoed out the front door.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next day was one which Buck should have spent in bed. He got to his mother's house too late to see her (Abigail Riddleman retired at 9:30 p.m. every night of her life). Finding the key under the mat, Buck let himself in and slept in Leo's room.
The next morning Abigail, a staunch but attractive woman in her middle fifties, woke her son by beating him about the head and shoulders with a heavy cast-iron skillet. She had mistaken him for Leo; when she realized her error, she greeted him with a lukewarm kiss on the cheek and the admission that she was genuinely glad he had not been shot to death in the war. This blatant (for her) show of a mother's emotions lasted for about a minute and ten seconds.
"When are you going to work?" she asked harshly.
"Mom, I just got home. I thought I'd just relax for a few days. You know, sort of-"
"Why did they let you go? You're not awol, are you?"
"No, Mom, I got shot in the ... uh ... leg, and they gave me a medical discharge."
"You're not a cripple, are you?"
"No, I'm all right, and I'll go back to work just as soon as I get my bearings. Gina's running off kind of shook me up. Didn't you talk to her before she did it?"
"Sure, I did. Told her it was the smartest decision she ever made in her life. She got herself a real good catch in Roger Stanton. Wish I'd had the good sense to marry someone like him instead of your good-for-nothing father. Oh, you men are all alike. Running all over the world shooting Chinese and screwing their women."
"It's Vietnam, not China. And what makes you think I've been screwing anyone?"
"I'm your mother, Buck. I know you better than anyone. Wash your face and limp on down to breakfast."
Dizzy from the blows of the skillet, Buck lumbered into the bathroom and washed the blood from his face. Abigail had opened a two-inch gash over his eye. He touched it up with a styptic pencil and covered it with a Band-aid.
Back in the bedroom, he slipped into his trousers and sat on the bed, hoping his double vision would clear up. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.
"Stanton residence," said the voice on the other end.
"Roger home?"
"Who's calling, please?"
"Senator Fuller."
"No, Senator. Mr. Stanton is still on his honeymoon in Mexico."
"When do you expect him back?"
"Friday of next week. Shall I have him return your call?"
"No, I'll ... I'll get back to him."
"Very good, sir."
Buck slammed the phone onto the cradle, finished dressing and went down to breakfast.
"You really ought to leave town, Buck," Abigail said, plopping a glob of lumpy oatmeal into his bowl. "Why don't you try New York City? They've got a lot of people like you in New York City."
"Oh, no. If I sell out, I might go out to California; but not New York. They ought to sink Manhattan and forget about it."
"Sell? Sell what?"
"The real estate business."
"Oh, that." Abigail broke into wild, uncontrollable laughter. "Haven't you heard about that?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes with the hem of her apron.
"No, I haven't heard about that. Get a hold of yourself and tell me."
"There is no real estate business. Long and Riddleman was sold to Mason Brooks. We handled the transaction for him at the bank."
"Where's David?" Buck felt his face turn red with anger.
"Oh, he left town. Someone said he was going to Texas, but Carl Phillips got a letter from him from Argentina."
"But I had forty thousand dollars in that business!"
"Fifty. Mason's father-in-law paid David an even hundred thousand. They had to fire him as principal of the high school. You know what a letch he is. Couldn't keep his hands off the girls."
"And you just let him ... let him get away with it?!!"
"Hell, no! I tried to get them to arrest the goddamn pervert, but the old man bought off the police."
"I don't mean Mason-I mean David!"
"What business was it of mine? You gave him your power of attorney. That was a dumb thing to do."
"But David's my best friend. We practically raised him. He'll come back and give me the money."
"Suuuuuuure, he will. In the meantime, I think you better leave town. Gina and Roger are coming back soon, and there's bound to be trouble if you're here when they do. Where are you going? You didn't even finish your oatmeal!"
* * *
There were no customers in Robinson Chevrolet when Buck walked into the service area. He was so angry he marched all the way from his mother's house, military fashion. Mike Parker was tinkering with the transmission of a bread truck. He was covered with grease from his gorilla-sized hands to his bulging biceps. "Hi, Mike, how's it going?" Buck asked his huge friend.
"Buck! Good to see you back!" The big mechanic's face broke into an expression of surprise and delight. "I'd shake hands with ya, but ... "
"Sure, sure. Look, uh, Mike, would you do me a favor and go get a cup of coffee or something? I want to see Dell."
"Well, he's right inside, Buck. Go ahead on in."
"No, you see I ... I'm going to call him out here and take a swing at him, you know. If you're here, he'll expect you to take up for him."
Mike grabbed a rag. "Sure, Buck. Anything you say."
"Don't you even want to know what my beef is?"
"Huh uh. You've always treated me right, you know. I figure you got a good reason and that's good enough for me. Glad to see you back." Mike crossed the street and went into a cafe. He took a seat near the window so he could watch.
Buck leaned against the truck horn with his back to the office door. Dell Robinson was huskily built and in his middle forties, though he looked much younger. He ignored the horn for a moment, then jumped up, swung the door open, and shouted into the garage, "Hey, lay off that horn, Mac!"
Buck pretended not to hear him, still making sure to keep turned so that Dell couldn't see his face.
"Listen, you jerk, I said lay off that horn!" Dell shouted, running toward him at full speed. Buck timed his move perfectly. Dell was right where Buck wanted him when he spun around and caught the bigger man with a vicious straight right hand to the face. He felt the bones and cartilage of Dell's nose splinter like soft wood against his knuckles. The combined velocity of Buck's body speed as he turned around and his arm and hand speed as he swung, versus Dell's speed coming at him, produced an impact similar in nature to a head-on train collision. Blood gushed from Dell's nose as he fell through the window of the bread truck and hung over the door like a limp piece of laundry on a clothes line.
To get a better look at his handiwork Buck swung the door open and watched Dell's blood mingle with the grease on the garage floor. "Lock up your daughter, cock-sucker!" Buck screamed into the unconscious man's ear. Then he spat on his victim, stormed out of the shop and walked toward Main Street.
About an hour later Dell came to, coughing on the water from Mike's sponge that had collected in his mouth. "What the fuck are you doing?!" he sputtered.
"Just trying to clean the wound, Dell," answered his burly employee. "I think it's broken," he added, wiggling the loose bone.
"Stop it, you son-of-a-bitch, that hurts!" Dell shouted, twisting his head away from Mike. "Where the hell were you?"
"In the coffee shop."
"You're never around when I need you, you moron! Help me get to the phone!"
The veins in Mike's forehead bulged with anger, but he didn't show it in his voice. "Sure, Dell. Anything you say."
Inside his office, Dell called the hospital and told them he was on the way over for treatment. He then placed a long distance call and waited in agony for the operator to complete it. Mike brought him a bottle of Dristan, and Dell threw it at him, shattering it against the wall near Mike's head. Mike left, not letting Dell see the broad grin on his face.
"Ready on your call," said the operator.
"Roger?"
"Yes, who's this?"
"Dell. We've got troubles. Buck Riddleman's here in Fletcher Falls."
"How?"
"I don't know. The little fart caught me off guard and busted the shit out of my nose. You better get back here quick. I'm going over to the draft board and destroy any record that I ever worked there."
"No! That won't do any good, Dell. Some of those papers you signed are in Washington."
"I'm not going to Leavenworth. If the shit hits the fan, I'm taking you down with me!"
"Shut up! Don't do anything until I get there!"
"But what if he starts nosing around?"
"I said shut up! Call that number I left with you."
"You mean-"
"Use your head, asshole! I left a number with you, right?"
"Right."
"I'll be home in five days. Do you understand what I'm saying, Dell? I'll be there in five days."
"Yeah, I gotcha." Both men hung up and Dell quickly dialed another number. He waited through seven rings.
"Huh?" asked the sleepy voice on the other end.
"Rafe?"
"Yeah, who's this?"
"Dell Robinson. Meet me at midnight in the park. I'll be at the swings." He hung up, went into the bathroom and looked at his mangled nose. Feeling a sneeze coming on, he said a silent prayer that it wouldn't; but his prayer wasn't answered.
* * *
"So, what are your plans, Buck?" Jim Christopher asked, holding one of Buck's large ears back as he shaved the inside edge of his sideburn.
"I don't know. If I survive my homecoming, I guess I'll try to get a job at the bank." Buck's jumping nerves settled down as he relaxed in his prone position in the barber chair. The cool breeze from the air conditioner was as refreshing as the hot shave; and he closed his eyes, hoping his throbbing headache would subside. "How's Sandy and the kids?"
"Fine, just fine. Sandy talks about you all the time." The barber, a tall skinny fellow about Buck's age, kicked the pedal on the chair, hoping to raise it a notch higher. Jim constantly had a sore back from bending over his customers, and even though the chair was fixed in its highest position and had been for the last fifteen years, he hopefully kicked that pedal at least five times every day.
"Remember those hayrides we used to go on? Sandy was a real sweetheart in those days. She still as pretty as ever?"
"Prettier."
"Let's get together for dinner tonight. You know, have a few drinks-talk about the good old days."
"Can't make it tonight, Buck."
"Okay, how about tomorrow?"
"Nope."
"When, then?"
"I'll be honest with you, Buck. It was different when you and Gina were together, but now ... well, let me put it this way: every time Sandy and I have an argument, she tells me what a great lay you used to be and what a lousy lover I am. Over the years that's weighed on my head pretty strong."
"Why, that's ridiculous! I wouldn't do anything to your old lady."
"I believe you ... you wouldn't go out of your way to try anything, but what would you do if she made a pass at you?"
"Well, I'd ... I mean, I ... "
"You'd fuck her. And why not? You've taken yours right out of the middle of the watermelon since you were a little kid. I went along with it. Everybody went along with it. Hell, I can't think of one single woman under sixty and over thirty within a hundred mile radius of Fletcher Falls that you haven't fucked at least once. You laughed about it at the time, but more than one jealous husband seriously considered blowing your brains out before Gina took you off the open market."
"Thanks a lot, buddy," Buck said, his inflection showing his irritation. "If you're so goddamned pussy-whipped that you're afraid to be seen with me in public, then I feel sorry for you and you're no longer a friend of mine."
"Pussy-whipped? Maybe, I don't know. All I know is that I happen to love my wife very much. A lot more than she loves me, I'm sure. If you make up your mind to make it with her, I believe you'll succeed; but don't expect me to set it up for you. You'll just have to do your drinking and reminiscing with somebody else."
Throwing the sheet on the floor, Buck jumped out of the chair and wiped off the remaining shaving cream with a towel. "Fuck you, man! If I'd given you one reason to be distrustful of me-just one single reason in all these years, I'd say maybe you had something. But if you're going to snub me for something I might do, then all I have to say to you is that you just blew a twenty-five year friendship right out the window!"
"Did you ball Sandy that time I went to Chicago a couple of weeks after our wedding?"
"Who told you that?"
"She did."
"Well, it's a damn lie!" he lied. He threw a dollar bill on the cash register and walked to the door. "I don't like people accusing me of things I didn't do, Jim. It makes me want to go out and do them."
"Let your conscience be your guide, Buck. However, let me add one piece of advice if I may. If you do make a play for Sandy, it wouldn't be too smart for you to come sit in this chair and ask for another shave." Jim was giving his razor strop a good workout as Buck left.
About a hundred yards from the barber shop, Buck bumped into an old friend and held on to her waist, crushing their pelvic regions together. "Martha Douglas! How's the most beautiful woman in the world?"
Martha gave him a quick guilty peck on the cheek and whispered, "Buck, what are you doing home?"
"I'm free. They shot me and let me go."
"Oooooo," she squeaked, "that's marvelous. I mean, I hope it's nothing serious." She dropped her suitcases on the sidewalk and strained to break his grip on her.
"Just a nick. Hey, what's the matter, don't you love me anymore!
"Buck, please let me go." He released her. "Brice is having me followed."
"Where are you off to?"
"My mother's. Brice stormed in last night and said it's time for me to go visit my mother. I think those long hours in the grocery store are causing him to lose his mind."
"Last night, you say. Did he see Zeke yesterday or go by the railroad station?"
"Yes, he delivered some groceries to the station master. Why?"
"He found out I was here. And that's why you're going to visit your mother."
"That's silly."
"Is it? Let me look at you." Buck gave her the once over. She was his kind of woman-a chubby little rascal with curly black hair who oozed femininity. Every time Martha's tantalizingly plump lips said "hello," her deep green hungry eyes said "let's fuck."
"I'd love to," Buck cooed.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. You sure you have to go?"
"Not if you promise to come over and tell me about all your hairy war experiences." Martha's way of flirting always cut right through to the marrow of Buck's bones. On lonesome nights in Vietnam, he used to get a hard-on just thinking about the way she ate an ice cream cone.
"What about your secret admirer?" Buck spotted the young detective tailing her. He was nonchalantly leaning against the bank, reading a newspaper. Upside down.
"I'll invite him in, too. Kinda cute, isn't he? Do you think he could resist my invitation?"
"Not unless he's deaf and blind."
"It's a date, then. Say seven o'clock? Brice doesn't leave the store till eleven. I think we can get a lot of things discussed in that length of time, don't you?"
"Ooooooh, yeeeees, I think we could. But not tonight, sweetheart. You go on to mother's."
"Why?"
"I've got a headache."
"That's the worst line I've ever heard in my life!"
"I'm serious. It's bad. You go ahead now. I won't kiss you goodbye, but I'll be screwing that lovely ass of yours with my eyes until you walk out of sight."
Martha picked up her bags and whispered near his ear, "Just looking at you makes me all wet down there, Buck. I want to eat you until you cry uncle."
"Uncle. See how low my resistance is?"
"You're not going to send me into the dark night knowing how much I want you to fuck me, are you?"
"It's not dark yet, Martha," he said, starting to tremble all over. "Go, before I rape you right here in front of God and the Fletcher Falls branch of the Tri-State National Bank."
"You're going to stick to that stupid headache excuse?"
"That's right."
"Bastard," she said softly, triggering a small emission in Buck's pants. She assumed an air of sophistication, threw her cute little nose upward and walked away. She wore a black silk pants suit, and the clearly outlined cheeks of her ass ground and bumped together sensuously with each step she took. Fearing he would shoot off in his pants, he broke his word and stopped watching after a few steps.
Inside the bank, Buck's mouth dropped open. Women's lib posters were everywhere. There was even an uptight, mousey-looking little old lady sitting at a card table in the corner, taking names for a petition making it a misdemeanor for a man to whistle at a woman on the streets of Fletcher Falls. Buck couldn't help thinking how disappointed the old fossil must have been when the other "girls" told her it would be unrealistic to try to make it a felony.
"What do you want?" barked a short-haired amazon wearing a Brooks Brothers suit. She was so dykish Buck didn't know whether to address her as a woman or a man.
"I'd, uh ... like to see Mr. Phillips."
"What's your name?" Her expression was deadpan and her manner condescending.
"Buck Riddleman."
"Oh, yes." Her Green-Bay-Packer face broke into a friendly smile. "I'm Dorothy Sears." She offered her hand and Buck took it.
"How do you do?" Buck couldn't be sure whether the loud sounds coming from his hand were the cracking of knuckles or the fracturing of fingers.
"I'm your mother's private secretary." Pride oozed from her. "She's the greatest woman who ever lived."
"The Virgin Mary and Joan of Arc will be glad to know that mystery has finally been solved."
"Tell me, Mr. Riddleman, don't you think women should be allowed to fight in the front lines?"
"Oh, yes ma'am. I believe anyone old enough to vote in his country ought to be given the right to die for it."
"I could tell the moment you walked in that you weren't like most (excuse the expression) men. I'll see if Baldy is here. The old turd is probably goofing off in the men's room." She disappeared, and Buck hit the side of his aching head with his palm, certain that his hearing had been affected by this morning's blow on his head. Miss Sears returned. "You can go back now." Buck came around the corner and headed toward the big glass-enclosed office. "No, no, not that one," Dorothy said. "Your mother's old office."
Buck changed his course and entered a small four-by-five cubicle. "Carl, how are you?" he said, smiling as he extended his hand to the man who had been his father substitute for most of his life.
Carl Phillips, a man in his middle sixties, had aged twenty years in the last two. He had always been a folksy man with great control over his emotions, a man who patterned his life around the philosophies of Mark Twain and intentionally resembled the great humorist by copying his gestures, dress and hair style. But since Buck had last seen him, that great shock of glorious white hair had fallen out, and the man who cowered behind the ledger had nothing at all in common with the man Buck had so loved, admired and respected.
"Who's that?" There was a hint of fear in the old man's voice as he squinted to see his visitor in the bad light.
"It's me, Carl, your old friend Buck."
"Buck? Buckie? Heh, heh, heh, sure I remember! Sure do! How are you, son?" Carl offered his bony trembling hand, and Buck shook it heartily. It felt like a handful of pencils.
"Fine, Carl, just fine. And yourself?"
"Oh, fine ... just fine."
"You look ... you look just ... just fine."
"Haven't seen you for a while, Buckie. Where you been?"
"In the war."
"Oh, yes, I remember. They tell me Korea is a nasty country."
"The war in Vietnam, Carl."
"Oh, yes. Forgive me, George, my mind wanders from time to time. It's the business, I think. I've let the business get the better of me. But I've had help. I sure as hell didn't get this way all by myself. That son-of-a-bitch in there did this to me, Larry! That Riddleman woman! Stay away from women, Johnny. Believe this old man when I tell you a cunt will ruin your life every time!"
"What happened?"
"Don't tell her I said anything. She'll put me out. I'm still the president here, make no mistake about that. But if you tell her what I say, she'll get rid of me. I can't trust anybody."
"You can trust me."
"Women have all the money. Took me fifty years in this business to learn that. All I wanted was a piece of ass. Nothing wrong with that. A little harmless poontang now and then is what makes the world go round. Listen to me, son, if you never take any advice from anyone in your life, always remember this: never shit where you eat."
"I'll try to remember that."
"I ask you, do cats shit where they eat?"
"I wouldn't know about that. I hate cats."
"After ten years of chasing that bad news broad around this very desk, I finally caught her. Took her in the vault and fucked her on a pile of mortgages. The whole thing lasted about ten minutes. Next day she's not the same person. First it was the little loans, then she was making the big ones. When I tried to get my authority back, she threw a fit and I fired her. Next thing I know is every woman in the county is picketing my place. I couldn't even get in my office without them beating the shit out of me with those damn signs. Beware of the cunt who puts one hand through your fly and the other in your pocket."
"That's all very interesting, Carl. Look, I came in to ask you about a job."
"Love to have you with the firm, Louis. See Mrs. Riddleman. She takes care of the hiring and firing."
"Thank you, sir." Buck stood and shook Carl's hand again. "Good to see you again."
"My pleasure, son. Give those Japs hell!"
Buck returned to the front of the bank and waited two hours to see his mother. Miss Sears suggested he sign the seventeen petitions the bank was sponsoring. She said this was required of all prospective employees.
"Wait a minute, Dorothy. This one says a law should be passed to involuntarily sterilize all males. You can't be serious."
"Why not?" she asked, cracking a walnut with her teeth. "Our motto is: Why get ill from the pill when you can cut the nut?"
"That's insane!"
"Insane! Did you say insane?" Her eyes narrowed and her face flushed with anger. "I don't think you are Tri-State National Bank timber, Mr. Riddleman."
"All right. I'll sign."
"That's better. You can see your mother now."
Buck walked into his mother's office. She had had the back wall knocked out to enlarge the office to three times its original size. There was a big bay window in the back, and the huge room was filled with homey antiques, bric-a-brac, furniture and enough potted plants to stock a florist shop.
Abigail sat in a rocking chair behind a cluttered desk. "Mr. Riddleman, I've been going over your application. Tell me in your own words why you would like to become a member of our organization."
Buck laughed. "Mom, I can't believe -"
"Mom? There is no mom here, young man. As long as you are sitting on that side of the desk and I on this side, you are a nonentity applying for employment, and I am your prospective employer. Is that clear?"
"All right. Uh, I want to work for Tri-State National Bank because I can perform the duties required of me adequately."
"Adequately? Adequate employees are a dime a dozen, Mr. Riddleman. Here at Tri-State, we want dedication."
"For six hundred dollars a month, you'll get six hundred dollars worth of dedication!"
"All right. Continue."
"That's it. I can do the work and I can't make ends meet on the two-hundred-eighty-five dollar disability check I get from the government."
Miss Sears entered with some papers. "Excuse me, Mrs. Riddleman, but Mrs. Thompson is here for her loan."
"Mrs. Thompson?"
"You know, the widow with four children that was just forced off the welfare rolls?"
"Oh, yes. I'll sign them."
"I apologize for the interruption."
"You weren't interrupting anything important, Miss Sears. I was just about to tell Mr. Riddleman that we don't have any openings."
Buck exploded from his chair and beat on the desk. "Now you listen to me, you dizzy bitch!"
"Mr. Riddleman!" Dorothy gasped. "You can't talk to your mother like that."
"Bullshit! As long as I'm standing on this side of the desk, I'm an American citizen with full Constitutional rights of free speech! And as long as she sits on that side, she's a dizzy bitch who doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground!"
"Young man," Abigail said very calmly, "if you don't leave of your own accord, I shall have to ask Miss Sears to show you the way. By the way Miss Sears has a black belt in karate."
"I don't care if she's Wonder Woman! I'm not ready to leave!" Dorothy grabbed Buck's shoulder, almost pulling it out of joint. He slipped away and picked up a poker from the fireplace. "Touch me again, you goddamn freak, and I'll break every tooth in that lesbian mouth of yours!" He pointed at his mother. "I'm going to sue you for unfair labor practices-for refusing me employment because of my ... gender, number and sex! And I'm going to have you arrested for extortion and blackmail!"
"Who have I blackmailed?" Abigail asked.
"That sweet old man in there, that's who!"
"You mean that dirty, lecherous rapist?"
"Rape? You couldn't be raped by the entire United States Army!" The room began to spin around Buck and his legs buckled. A hundred anvils were being pounded inside his head. He dropped the poker and crashed against the brick wall next to the fireplace. "And that's not all," he mumbled, "no, that's not all." The room was getting darker and the two women were grotesquely shaped. "I'm going to have you arrested for bashing out my fucking brains with that frying pan, and if I die ... I'll testify against you ... on the charge of ... infanticide." Buck took one step toward the door and fell flat on his face.
CHAPTER FIVE
One lone pigeon stood on unsteady legs, watching Rafe Miller sitting on the swing. Rafe was a very small, pretty young man in his mid-twenties. His body was almost hairless. When in his teens, he had concentrated on physical fitness and self defense to ward off bullies. More than one cock-of-the-walk had leaned against this seemingly easy mark only to quickly find his own teeth bouncing on the sidewalk.
By the time he was eighteen, he found himself in Madison Square Garden facing a tall skinny kid from Omaha for the Golden Gloves Featherweight Championship of the United States. His blazing hand speed proved to be too much for his opponent, and Rafe knocked him out in the first round. Promises from a quick money promoter made more sense than returning to school, so he signed a pro contract.
After two years of either being in the tank or grossly overmatched, Rafe found himself broke, punchy and a has-been. He came back to Fletcher Falls, and Roger Stanton gave him a job as a bodyguard, mostly watching out for the drunks and weirdos who tend to congregate around political rallies and sometimes get out of hand.
"What's the matter with you? Why aren't you home sleeping with the rest of them stupid pigeons? I ain't got a thing for you ... wait a minute." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of peanuts left over from a Pirate-Met game the week before. "Guess you ain't as stupid as you look," he said, smiling as he cracked open the shells and tossed the nuts near the groggy bird. The pigeon looked at his offering for a moment, then leaned over and began to eat.
A car pulled up about a hundred yards away and stopped. Rafe glanced at his watch. It was five minutes past midnight. Dell's own mother wouldn't have recognized him with the heavily bandaged nose and the two black eyes, and Rafe had to exchange greetings with the man walking toward him before he was certain who it was.
After looking around the well-lit area, Dell sat on one of the swings. "Anybody know you're here?"
"Not a soul," Rafe answered.
"I don't like it here. It's too light."
"It's all right. I checked it out a half an hour ago. Even searched the pigeon to see if he was bugged. What's so hush-hush we can't talk about it on the phone?"
"Roger's in trouble. I talked to him in Mexico, and he told me to give you the job. It's Buck Riddleman. He's here, shooting off his mouth about how we got him drafted."
Rafe sprang off the swing and hit his palm in disgust. "I knew it! I told him that cunt wasn't worth the chance he'd be taking. Ya ... ya ... you guys get a whiff of pu ... pu ... pussy juice, and you go era ... era ... crazy!"
"Well, it's done now and you've got to undo it."
"How?"
Dell looked uneasily at the ground, then scanned the area again before reaching into his coat pocket and removing a small revolver with a silencer attached. He passed it to Rafe without looking at it.
The gun was cold in Rafe's hand and heavier than it looked. As soon as he realized what it was, his heart began to race and he felt cold sweat forming on his brow. The gun was a statement that made several passes through his brain before he rejected it. "You're shitting me, man. This isn't Roger's style-this is your idea! Buck gave you that nose, didn't he?"
"That doesn't have anything to do with it."
"The fuck it doesn't! That and that kid of yours. You know Buck's rep with the chicks, and you're thinking he might try to get to you through her. I may be punchy but I'm not stupid."
"You're wrong. Maria doesn't have anything to do with this decision."
"Maria. Just listen to the name, man. She's a farm girl-a Mary Lou, maybe, or a Betty Jane, but not a Maria. Just a hick kid from a hick town."
Dell reached up with both hands and grabbed Rafe around the throat. "Don't you ever even speak her name! You hear me, cocksucker!" He shook the little man, but quickly released him when he heard him cock the gun hammer.
Rubbing his throat with one hand, Rafe pressed the tip of the silencer against Dell's forehead. "I've never killed anyone before, Dell," he said very quietly, "but I'd really get a kick out of seeing your brains rush out the back of your head."
"Don't ... don't be a fool. You got this all wrong, Rafe. This idiot could get us all busted."
"Stanton doesn't have to shoot people to get 'em to do what he wants. With his bread and power he doesn't have to."
"Sure, if he has the time, but he doesn't. He'll be home in five days. It's got to be done now while he has an alibi."
Rafe didn't move the gun from Dell's forehead and the pressure added greatly to his already aching sinuses. "Buck's a friend of mine. I think I'd rather shoot you and take my chances."
"How much of a friend?"
"We shot a lot of pool together. He's a good cat."
"Ten thousand dollars worth? That's what Roger said it was worth." Rafe relaxed his grip a little. "And I'll throw in a new Chevy convertible. What do you say?"
There was a long pause. Rafe sighed and let the gun fall to his side. "He's na ... na ... not that good a friend. When and where do you want it?"
"Now!"
"Not with this piece of shit," Rafe said, bringing the gun back into view. "You gotta be right on top of a guy to put his lights out with a .22."
"And that's exactly where you'll be. See that window over there?"
"Where?"
"There, in the hospital," Dell said, pointing to a complex of buildings just beyond the park. "The only one on the ground floor that's lit up."
"Yeah, what about it?"
"He's in there. He's got something wrong with his head. They were bringing him in as I was going out. All you have to do is wait till the light goes out, lean in the window and ... " He snapped his fingers. "Pow! That's all there is to it." Dell got up and dabbed his neck and forehead with his handkerchief. "You sit here for a while and think about it. Roger always gets his way. I'd hate to be in your shoes if you disappoint him. Think about it till the light goes out. Talk it over with the pigeon." Dell laughed and walked slowly back to his car.
* * *
The nurse's uniform didn't do justice to Debbie Russell's fine figure. The little redhead's ass was a double handful of creamy curves, and her tits were like twin ski-jumps arching over hard-packed globes of snow. Both of these outstanding features of her anatomy were overshadowed by a uniform two sizes too large for her. She sat beside Buck's bed reading a confession magazine.
"No, no, don't touch me, Dorothy Sears!" Buck mumbled deliriously. "If you think you're going to cut off my nuts, you got another think coming! No, no, keep away! Oh, my god, nooooooooo!" He sat straight up in bed. "Who, what ... where am I?"
"Hi, stranger. Remember me?" Debbie said, coming to him.
"Debbie? Hey, love, what happened?" He touched his bandaged head. "Oh, that hurts!"
"Want me to kiss it and make it well again like I did when we were kids?"
Buck managed a grin. "I think you're thinking about another kind of head, sweetheart. What's the matter with me?"
"Nothing serious. Somebody fractured your skull. You'll live." She leaned over him and kissed him, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth, then pulling away before he had time really to enjoy it. "Welcome home."
"Whew! You never kissed me like that behind old man Tucker's barn."
"No, but we made up for it in other ways. You were the first boy I ever went down on. You sure taught me a lot."
Buck started working on the buttons that ran the full length of the front of her uniform. "Me? I thought you were the teacher. I just kissed and sucked every inch of your teen-age body. I figured if I didn't leave anything out you wouldn't know it was my first time."
"I've had a lot of practice since then, Buck. Want to see if I did my homework?"
He flipped off the light and took one of her quivering tits into his mouth. She moaned and leaned over to kiss his ear. Gooseflesh covered his body as she plunged her tongue downward, cutting off his hearing with a layer of hot saliva. Buck bit her hardening nipple and ran his hand down the front of her bikini panties. Debbie put her knee on the side of the bed to allow him easy access. His first two fingers slid easily into her wet cunt; and when they struck bottom, she bore down on her pussy muscles and drove her tongue deeper into his ear.
"Come here, Debbie," he said weakly, trying to pull her on top of him. "I want you. I want to eat you until my headache goes away."
She kissed him again; and as he squeezed her other breast, he could feel her heart beating wildly under his touch. She finally broke the intoxicating soul kiss and pushed away from him. "Don't you dare move. I'll be right back. I better call Mike and tell him I'm working overtime." She walked toward the door, buttoning up as she went.
"Mike? Mike who?"
"Parker. We got married last year." She left.
Even though she hadn't touched him, Buck had the hard-on of a young bull in a dairy farm. What should I do? he thought. One person showed me it mattered that I was alive today, and that was Mike Parker. Do I get dressed and slip out of here, or ball his wife? Why did she have to tell me? All I can see are the smiling blue eyes of eleven-year-old Debbie Russell just before she goes down on my cock. What a kick it would be to fuck her now after all these years. It'd be like going back to the time when Mother used to hug and kiss me like I was the greatest kid in the world. A time of hiding in the bushes over near Silver Lake and window peeking. Used to lay over there all summer and pull my pudding till it got sore.
Everything was better in those days. We knew the country would be fit to live in just as soon as we got those damn newspapers away from Edward Arnold. Boy, were we dumb! And so were the girls. And how we did fuck away our troubles!
Shit, do it! Mike won't know. No, but I will. Why did he have to show up at work this morning, the son-of-a-bitch! That motherfucker will never touch another car of mine!
Buck got out of bed, threw off the fits-all-sizes nightshirt, and stuck his pillows under the sheet so that Debbie might think he had fallen asleep, cursed Mike again under his breath, stomped over to the closet and took out his clothes. Then he heard the window opening and pressed himself flat against the wall.
There was a long silence. Buck was afraid to breathe and quite certain that the intruder could hear his heart pounding. He saw the gun first, then Rafe's hand came through the window only inches from Buck's leg.
Rafe fired into the bed five times. The quiet thumps of the weapon sickened Buck to his stomach. In a sudden burst of energy motivated more by survival than any bravery on his part. Buck reached over and slammed the window down with terrible force upon Rafe's hand. The gun fell on the floor and Buck looked through the glass directly into the eyes of his attacker. The look of agony on Rafe's face told him that he had broken every bone in his hand.
Without thinking Buck threw open the window. Rafe fell back on his butt, and Buck jumped on top of him and began beating him in the face. Unable to use his right hand, Rafe grabbed Buck's naked balls with his left and squeezed as hard as he could. Buck screamed at the top of his lungs, and Rafe rolled him over on the ground, released his nuts and knocked him into a state of semi-consciousness with four lightning-fast left crosses to Buck's jaw.
By the time Buck got to his feet again, he saw Rafe running through the park toward his car. He reached inside the window, picked up the gun and fired. The shot narrowly missed Rafe's head and zinged off the side of a large tree. Rafe ducked around the tree and watched Buck running toward him at full speed, gun in hand and cock flopping from side to side.
Rafe looked to see how far it was to his car, decided against trying to make it and, with the deftness of a cat, he climbed into the pitch black top of the huge oak.
Buck whizzed by and ran to the car, which he searched thoroughly before returning to tree where he last saw his would-be assassin. He circled the tree three times, completely befuddled by Rafe's sudden disappearance. The fourth time around Rafe waited until Buck stood still right under him, then he sprang from the top like a high diver. Buck heard the rustle of leaves and instinctively raised his weapon and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell on an empty chamber, but Rafe's mind never had a chance to absorb that stroke of good luck, for he misjudged the distance he would have to spring out to clear the last big branch on the tree. His chin lodged right in the apex of a fork and stuck there. As Rafe's neck broke, Buck heard the sickening crunch of snapping vertebrae. For a moment he was completely mesmerized by the tiny lifeless feet dangling just a few inches over his head.
After regaining a little of his composure, Buck lifted Rafe's body free from the tree and carried it to the dead man's car. He didn't have any trouble strapping the body in an upright position with the body belt on the passenger's side; but there was no way to secure the head, which flopped about in all directions as Buck drove.
His first inclination was to dump the body in Silver Lake, but then decided that it would better serve his purposes if the body were to be found somewhere on the Stanton estate. That plan also had problems. Roger was out of the country. Buck needed time. An idea flashed in his mind; and he speeded to his house, killed the lights as he pulled into the driveway, and parked near the screened-in back porch.
Very quietly, he carried the body inside, flipped open his long freezer and deposited Rafe among a few packages of frozen vegetables. Lights came on inside the house, and Buck quickly searched through a tool box on the porch floor. He found the padlock he was looking for, snapped it closed through the loop on the freezer and turned around just as a very frightened Laurie was about to smack him over the head with a crowbar.
"Buck? You scared me to death!"
"Haven't you ever seen a naked burglar with a fractured skull before?"
"Can't say that I have." Her robe had come open when she had raised her arms to strike Buck, and she didn't bother closing it. One glance at her inviting nipples and her cozy triangular bush triggered responses in his brain which sent a full pint of blood rushing toward his cock. He pulled her close to him so that she wouldn't see it growing, but the moment his rising rod made contact with the soft warm flesh of her upper thighs, his purpose was completely defeated.
"Where's Leo?"
"He's sleeping with Andy. Want me to wake him?"
"No, no. I've got to get some clothes and leave. Why's he sleeping with Andy?"
"He likes it. Says Andy gives better head than I do."
"Oh, shit, no! That's too strong for my battered old brain to handle. I'll just pretend you didn't say that. Look, do me a big favor and get me some clothes. Just tiptoe into my closet and grab a suit and a pair of shoes."
"Anything else you want me to grab?"
"Like what?"
"Like this." Laurie reached down, took Buck's cock in her hand and rubbed the head up and down her wet slit. "You've had a hectic day. Couldn't you use a little rest?"
"I ... I haven't got time, Laurie." Even after all the bizarre sexual experiences Buck had had in his life, the simple, direct act of a woman taking his cock in her hand never failed to render him helpless. And the more feminine her touch, the more reduced were his defenses. Laurie had a way of communicating every last bit of her femininity through her fingertips.
"Can't you tell how much I want you, Buck?" she asked in a whisper, brushing his lips with hers, tugging on the ends of his moustache with her teeth. "All day I've had the taste of you in my mouth. I've been walking around in a daydream, wondering how marvelous it must feel to be fucked by you." Her eyes showed true longing, and her voice suggested she would surely die if he didn't satisfy her craving hunger for him. "Buuuuuuck, put me someplace and fuck me. Pleeeeeeease."
Lifting her under the arms, Buck spun around and sat her upon the freezer. She wrapped her legs around him tightly as he kissed her hot wet mouth and drove his tongue deep inside. Panting furiously, she circled his tongue with her lips and sucked it like a cock, while her hands toyed with his ears and the hair on the back of his neck just below the bandages. She inhaled deeply the heavy masculine odor which rose from his armpits, and it affected her like a drug.
Buck found his cock with his hand. His knuckles were excited by the juices flowing from her torrid box, and he guided his weeping weapon through her bush, pushed it into the deep recesses of her cunt and fucked her savagely with hard fast thrusts. His energy burst from a secret source. He was flying high with his second wind and, if anything, she was soaring even higher.
Neither of them was conscious of Laurie digging her nails into his back and plowing bright red streaks all the way to the cheeks of his ass. He pulled her knees up close to her body, spreading her cunt open wider and collapsing her vagina so that every stroke of her erratic fucking motion drove the distance, allowing him to crash his cock to her limits with every downward push.
Still fucking furiously as she covered his face and upper chest with wanton kisses, he slid his hand onto her heavily perspiring stomach and found her clit with his thumb. When she was aroused to the point where she was certain he could drive no deeper or faster or put another micro-fraction of an ounce of pressure on her devastated clit, he did.
All the muscles in her face contracted at once. " AYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Oh! Oh! AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Shhh! You're going ... to wake ... OH, FUCK! OH, SHIT! OOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!"
Buck plopped down on the floor and hugged the side of the freezer. His head and his cock throbbed alternately, and his brain was so disheveled he didn't know where he was.
Lying prone on the freezer, Laurie felt as though she were clinging to a raft far out at sea. She was afraid to leave her legs hanging over the side because of the sharks, but she was too wasted to pull them out of the water.
Buck touched her foot and she kicked him in the nose. His painful moan brought her back to reality. "I'm sorry, Buck. I thought you were ... something else. I'll get your clothes." She slid off the freezer, but her legs were too weak to support her and she crashed to the floor.
"You okay?" Buck asked, trying to blot his bleeding nose with a loose head bandage.
"I think so. Hey, Jack, you fuck like a wild man. How long you been in the jungle?"
"I gotta ... I gotta get out of here, little girl. Try to get my stuff."
"Yes, master." She rolled over onto her stomach and pushed herself up on her hands and knees. She crawled through the door and into the kitchen. By the time she reached the hall, she was on her feet again, moving toward the bedroom, balancing herself first against one wall, then the other.
Buck was still holding his head when she returned with the clothing he had requested. "Did you wake them?" he asked, slipping into his pants.
"Them? No way. They smoked enough shit last night to stone the entire population of Helena. Funny thing, though. The way Andy's sleeping. I never could sleep with a cock in my mouth. I tried it once and dreamed I'd swallowed a telephone pole."
Buck let her last remark go in one ear and out the other. He tried to kiss her and missed, getting the better part of her nose in his mouth. "Goodnight, love. See you shortly."
"Right." She took a step and almost fell. "Oh, my god! I feel like a broken mustang in a rodeo. You ride pretty good, cowboy."
Buck managed a faint smile. "I try," he said, stumbling out the door and into Rafe's car. Laurie leaned against the freezer and felt something foreign poke her in the ribs. On closer examination she realized that the freezer had been padlocked. She took the crowbar and tried to snap it off, but she was too tired to break it.
* * *
Renumbering that Rafe used to live over the pool hall, Buck parked the car there, hoping he hadn't moved to another apartment. He intended to leave the car and try to get to his mother's house before anyone saw him; but he noticed a light on in Rafe's window and a brand new baby blue Corvette parked outside. A quick glance at the license plate told him what he had hoped was true. It was a dealer's plate. Sweet Dell, he thought to himself. That son of a bitch is up there waiting for Rafe to bring back the good news.
Buck scampered back to the other car and searched the glove compartment for ammunition. Nothing. He decided to fake it. He stuck the gun in his belt and mounted the stairs that led to Rafe's apartment. After pressing his ear against the door, he drew the pistol, kicked the lock with all his might, ripping the inside facing off the door, and bounded inside. "Okay, Robinson, hold it right ... whaaaaaaaaa?"
The girl, woman, broad, whatever, turned her head on the pillow to face her late caller. Her hair looked like the bright red fright wig clowns wear and her mascara was smeared all over her face. The two empty scotch bottles on the night table summed up the cause of her appearance. "Hiiiiiiiii, love. How about a little kissy poo?" Although there was no possible chance that Buck had ever seen this heap of living garbage before, there was something vaguely familiar about her voice. He stepped closer with the curiosity of one approaching an accident victim. "Hey, you ain't Rafe! Rafe's a little bitty fart. Who the fuck are you?"
"Oh, no, it can't be! Maria?"
The one-woman disaster area rubbed her bloodshot eyes, transferring a large quantity of mascara to her knuckles. "Buck? Is that really you?"
"What in the world have you been doing to yourself?"
"Having a party. Is Rafe with you?"
"No."
"Well you better haul ass. He'll beat the shit out of both of us if he finds you here."
"I'll take my chances."
Maria threw back the sheet covering her. She was naked and her body was covered with welts and bruises. "This represents some of his better work. Sure you want to stick around?"
"Why do you put up with it?"
"Got a cigarette?" Buck lit one from his pack and handed it to her. "A body can get used to anything. Ever since I got back from Europe, I been trying to think of the best way to chap my old man's ass. Well, I think I found the way. Only problem is if I tell him about it and he kills Rafe, then I'm right back where I started. On the other hand if Rafe kills him, I win the joyful prize of getting the shit kicked out of me every night."
"Why did you come back home?"
"Bored. The Germans taught me how to drink and the French showed me how to suck a cock. You ever get screwed in the ass in Athens?"
"Not lately."
"It's a real experience. One every naive, shy, small-town girl ought to have. Yes, living abroad can really be very educational. I learned how to fuck and suck and dig a little pain now and then." She took his hand and smiled. "You really look good, Buck. The war must have agreed with you."
"Wish I could say the same thing about you. I just had a wild thought flash through my mind. You were always the princess in my fantasies. You're the only person in my life I ever put on a pedestal. The only girl I ever dated without trying to get in her pants. The only really good girl I ever knew."
"Times have changed, love. I'll give you ten dollars if you'll suck my pussy."
"Come on, get out of that wet bed," Buck said, pulling her up. "You've peed all over yourself."
"Hey, stop it! Quit, that hurts!"
"What hurts?"
"Everything hurts. Take it easy. I'm getting up." She sat on the side of the bed. Buck noticed one of her nipples was bleeding, and she had cigarette burns on her back. She stood up and fell into his arms. "Hey, tell the room to stop spinning."
"When did you eat last?"
"I don't know-yesterday, maybe the day before. I'm in Boston, did you know that? My Daddy told me to go to this very slick society party in Boston and that's where I am 'cause I'm a sweet little girl who always does exactly what her Daddy tells her."
"If Daddy spots your car downstairs he'll buy you a one-way ticket to Hell."
"And that, my handsome childhood sweetheart, is what makes life so exciting. Whoops! Put me down!"
Buck carried her into the bathroom and turned on the cold water tap in the shower. "Milady's bath is ready."
"Don't you put me in there, you motherfucker! I'll drown. OH, SHIT, THAT'S COLD! Okay, okay, you asked for it!" Buck didn't think she had the strength; but the cold water revitalized her and she pulled him in with her. They both started laughing and Buck was unable to keep her from tearing off all his clothes. Then the soap fight began. Each armed with a bar, they fenced in the close quarters, screaming "touch�" when one made a hit on a particularly vital spot, such as a nipple or the head of Buck's cock.
With the cold shower spraying over them, they collapsed into the bathtub and laughed until their ribs hurt. There was a long silence while they relaxed and got back their wind. Maria lifted her head off Buck's chest, looked at him for a moment, and kissed him. "Take me to bed," she said softly.
Buck tried to be diplomatic. "Maria, I ... I can't do that. Some other time maybe."
"Still got me on a pedestal?"
"No, that was a long time ago. I've grown considerably more carnivorous since then."
"Okay, then. Eat me."
"I'm not hungry just now. And if I ever tell you that I am, watch me very closely."
"Is that a word to the wise?"
"Hopefully."
"You want something from me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Well, take it. What the hell, everything I have is yours."
"I'll remember you said that when the time comes."
"Let's get out of here before Napoleon drags his ass in and starts throwing punches," she joked, trying to throw off the effect of having been rejected.
"Where to?"
"Who cares? Let's go to the beach for a couple of days.
"But my clothes are wet and I haven't got any money."
"Put it out of your mind. We'll run naked over the sand and let Daddy pick up the tab for the necessities."
Buck grinned. "I think I'd like that."
They dressed and went down to the car. Half of the sun could be seen popping up at the end of the highway. Maria opened up the Vet full throttle, and Fletcher Falls was soon just a speck in the rear-view mirror.
They started to sing a folk ballad about a little boy who loved to fuck pigs. Halfway through the second verse, Buck's head snapped forward. Morpheus was goofing on his eyeballs.
CHAPTER SIX
The blue Vet streaked south to the Robinson beach property on the Gulf Coast of Florida. Located about twenty miles from Pensacola, the property included a very nice house and about a hundred yards of the most beautiful ocean frontage Buck had ever seen. The sand was as white and fine as granulated sugar, and the water was green in the shallows, all different shades of teal where the depth varied, and deep blue in the deepest areas. The weather was tropically balmy throughout their stay.
The only thing either of them wore was the small ball peen hammer on a chain around Buck's neck. Marla had a great talent for producing bottles of booze, seemingly out of thin air, and he broke each of them on sight. Bottles were discovered in toilet tanks, mattresses, light fixtures, behind loose hoards, and taped to the hulls of the three boats in the boat house. Also there seemed to be an endless number of them buried like land mines all over the beach. Inside a week's time, the elements had coaxed of the foul-smelling alcoholic shit out of Marla's body. She didn't adjust quietly; but Buck remained steadfast throughout her screaming fits of withdrawal, and Maria responded well to regular meals, sunshine, and exercise. Color returned to her pallid cheeks, the bruises disappeared, and she evolved into a good-looking woman.
One night after eating perfect charred/rare steaks which Buck had cooked over an open hickory fire on the beach, Maria lay back against him with her head in his lap. The firelight enhanced the softness of her breasts and the sensuousness of her thighs. The light flickered over her belly, tempting Buck to explore the warm wet jungle which he knew lay just beyond it, hiding in the shadows.
"Buck, I can't remember ever feeling this good before. You don't know how good it feels to ... (she laughed) ... feel good." As she talked, Maria toyed lightly with Buck's navel.
"Let's see those hands." She held them out to him proudly with her fingers extended. "Very nice. You're steady enough to perform brain surgery."
She plopped her hand back onto his belly and teased the line of hair that ran over his navel to the pubic patch below. "I don't feel like performing brain surgery. A nice blow job, maybe, but I think I've had enough pain and blood to last a lifetime." She turned her head sideways and flicked out her tongue, barely grazing the sleeping head of his cock.
"Don't," he said, shifting his weight to get his cock outside the range of her mouth.
"You sure know how to hurt a girl," she said, fighting back the tears with a nervous laugh. "Say something funny, Buck, like there's nothing personal in your rejection."
"But there is. There is something terribly personal in it, Maria. Something that has to do with you only in that you are your father's daughter. You see, I want to exploit you, and I'm fighting the temptation to do so."
"So stop fighting, already! Exploit me!" She opened her legs wide and pulled apart the lips of her pussy with her fingers. "Just look at me, Buck! Look how the love juice glistens on the silky lining of my cunt. Don't you know that I want you to exploit me-that the lips of my mouth yearn to suck your beautiful cock and make it big and hard, and that the lips of my pussy ache to have you push your dick between them? I want you to fuck me, Buck! I can't stand sleeping in the same house with you and not being allowed to have you. I want to feel your hot hard muscle inside me. I want to feel your tongue in my mouth and your balls banging against my ass."
"It's not that, Maria. If it were a simple thing like sex exploitation, I would have been fucking your brains out every night. It's a different scene entirely."
"And I say you're a goddamned liar. I turn you off physically and you don't have the balls to tell me."
"That's not true."
"All right, prove it."
Buck laughed. "I'll be damned if I'll ever understand the workings of a woman's mind. You tell them you're going to do something similar in nature to putting a gun to their head, and they say you don't love them if you don't."
Maria took a diaphragm out of her purse and inserted it in her pussy. "Buck Riddleman, you're either going to fuck me or admit I turn you off."
"What's that thing for?"
"Babies, or to be more specific, the lack of them. Didn't your mother ever tell you about such things?"
"Don't you use pills?"
"Why should I? You are in the company of a very talented piece of passionate pussy. I can tell exactly when I ovulate. I can feel an egg roll down a Fallopian tube as clearly as I can feel a load of hot come roll down my throat. Why take the pill when I only have to use this a few hours a month?"
"And old Humpty Dumpty is sliding down the chute right now?"
"That's right. There, all through." She lay back and began to tease her nipples with her fingertips. "Now, where were we? You said you would want to fuck me if it weren't for this other motive-something to do with my father. And I said prove it. I repeat-prove it."
"You don't care what my ulterior motive might be?"
"Not in the least. As far as I'm concerned you can have any kind of beef you want with ... oh! ... oh, darling, yes, lap away ... stick your tongue ... oh, God, yes, stick it in there! ... deep in my cunt ... deeper ... WORK OUT, LOVE!" Maria threw her legs around Buck's neck and pressed her frantic box against his pleasure-giving mouth. She had built up this meeting so much in her mind that she came almost as soon as he entered her with his tongue. While he reamed the walls of her overheated cunt with his tongue, he pulled her pussy lips apart with his fingers and brushed her revealed clit with horizontal passes of his moustache. "Oh, Buck! Jesus Christ, yes, baby! Do it, do it, DO IT!"
After a few more minutes of wracking orgasms, Maria pleaded with him to move around over her in the sixty-nine position so she could suck him. He came up and around without breaking mouth contact with her pussy and she took his semi-rigid dick into her mouth and sucked it up to full size with three hard pulls. She released his cock and it slapped against his stomach. Then she kissed and licked the underside of his shaft, running her tongue around and over his balls. His scrotum had drawn up tight, and she enjoyed licking the taut skin and pretending it was the ball sac of a small boy. Next, she raised her head off the warm sand and Frenched his ass, ramming her tongue as far inside as it would go. She could feel the muscles in his thighs twitch with excitement as she probed deeper, past the highly sensitive valve.
On the other end, Buck was enthralled with the size of the clit cautiously moving out from under its hood. He sipped it out of its hiding place, knowing that a sudden burst of pressure or bite might scare it out of sight. He moved his lips and tongue slowly and tenderly over the little nub of tissue, coaxing it, humoring it to blossom forth to its full extent. Soon he was faced with a pinkish-red appendage almost an inch long, and he closed his lips around it and bobbed over it, sucking it in and out of his mouth as one would suck a toy cock, which indeed it was.
Maria had the head of his cock between her lips again, and she moaned, feeling as though her pussy had been turned inside out. "Oh, suck it, love, suck it! Mmmmmm, you taste like heaven! Eat me, that's it, don't stop. Please don't stop. Mmmmmmmm. Oh, your head is getting so big! La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la! Shoot in my mouth, darling! I want to feel your come ooze out the side of my mouth so I can lick it up and swallow it. Shoot in me, Buck! Oh, please ... please shoot ... I want you ... I want you ... ga gunt goo! Yes, yes, harder, faster ... your fingers, Buck! Shove your fingers in me!"
Moving over her clit faster now, Buck plunged two fingers into her pussy.
"AARRGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SSHHIIIIIIT!"
As she hit the big orgasm, her legs locked tightly around Buck's hand, and it was easy for him to reach up with his two fingers and remove her diaphragm without her noticing what he was doing. She peaked, and the second she relaxed her grip on his hand, he pulled the rubber oval from her very quickly and buried it in the sand. In a flash he whipped his cock out of her mouth, spun around, and plunged his swollen tool into her unsuspecting pussy, like a matador performing the coup de grace on a winded bull. And like a mortally wounded bull, she was stunned beyond belief as his cock exploded within her, and every nerve in her body flinched hopelessly against the raw brute force of her intruder. She could feel her cervix smashed flat and his hot come jet far beyond its intended limits. Weeks later (far into her pregnancy) she swore to herself that she had actually felt his pointed pecker pass directly into the entrance to her womb.
Buck was on his feet now looking down at her. The excess come, mingled with her juices, glistened on his cock. A few drops fell onto her stomach.
"Bucky? Why did you ... how come I felt your come ... come ... come ... come." She passed out. The last thing she remembered was his smile and a background of shooting stars behind it.
Buck went back to the house, dressed, took some money he had discovered in the sugar bowl a few days before, jogged out to the highway, and started hitchhiking back to his home town.
* * *
The private jet touched down, taxied down the runway and pulled up to a deserted terminal. It was three o'clock in the morning, and Dell had fallen asleep twice before his cigarette had burned away most of the flesh on the first two knuckles on his right hand, putting an end to his catnaps.
Gina, as radiant as a Gabor sister, rushed up to Dell. "Oh, Dell, have you seen him?" There was despair in her voice.
"Who?"
"Poor, sweet Bucky."
He breathed deeply of her perfume, and noted her lovely tanned cleavage in the low-cut Mexican blouse with more than passing interest. She oozed affluence, from the dazzling rock on her finger to the expensive treatment of her exquisite blonde curls. "Well, I ... I mean, he was here a few days ago, but he ... disappeared. Nobody knows where he is."
"I must see him. I haven't slept a wink since I heard."
"Heard what?"
She buried her nose in the soggy Kleenex she carried and wept. "Oh, I ... caaaaaaan't talk about it!"
Roger Stanton entered. He was tall, almost six foot four, dark hair worn in a conservative style, and handsome-not too pretty, not too rugged. He flashed his vote-getting smile strictly from habit, for he had much too much on his mind to be in a pleasant mood. He wore his intelligence and confidence on his face and in his manner. If one were to go into a laboratory for the express purpose of building a political candidate, he would do well to use Roger Stanton for a model. He squeezed his sleepy greeter's hand. "Dell. Have you seen him?"
Thinking the line was for his wife's benefit, Dell wasn't surprised by the question. "A few days ago, but he seems to have dropped out of sight."
"Where's Rafe?"
"I don't know. He's been gone for almost a week now."
"You spoke to him about that matter?"
"Yes, he told me he would take care of it."
"Fine. Let's get home."
After the drive to the Stanton estate, Gina took a sedative. Roger kissed her goodnight and joined Dell in the library. He locked the door behind him, poured himself a drink of Scotch, downed it, then quickly poured another. "What happened to your nose?"
"Like I said on the phone. The little fart caught me off guard and broke it. The splint comes off in a few days."
"Where is he?"
"Where?" Dell laughed. "Why ... dead, I hope."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Wait a minute. I don't like this. You said snuff him and I -"
"I said what?"
"You said five days. Five days to hit him while you had an alibi. Goddamn!" Dell crashed to the floor and grabbed his nose. The glass Roger had thrown knocked off the splint and shattered against the fireplace.
"You stupid son-of-a-bitch! I told you to have Rafe on him for five days until I got back! Okay, what happened?"
"I don't know. I gave Rafe a gun and told him what to do. The next day they were both gone. Rafe's car was still at his place, so I went in. The gun was there. It had been fired. But so was everything else-everything but Rafe. If he was going to skip he would have told me, and I'm positive he would have taken his clothes. Son-of-a-bitch, this thing hurts! You got it bleeding again!"
"If you escape this mess with nothing more than a bloody nose, you'll be number one on my list of the luckiest men who ever lived!"
"What's all the noise about? What was Gina crying about?"
"You've knocked off, if indeed you have succeeded in killing him, a national war hero-silver star with all the trimmings. He got his cock shot off. Voters aren't very sympathetic to Congressmen who murder war heroes."
"How do they feel about Congressmen who steal war heroes' wives while they're risking their lives overseas-especially war heroes who get their cocks shot off?"
"I could have made a deal with him, dumb ass! But I can't very well do that if some hick farmer plows up his body, now can I?"
"What do we do, now?"
"We wait. We sit and we smile and we wait. Don't call me. Don't come by. Don't speak to me on the street. Just keep cool till we find out where we stand. Now, get out of here!"
Dell left and Roger poured himself another drink and carried it up to his bedroom. He drank in the semi-darkness, sitting on the bed, watching his bride's big beautiful tits rise and fall with each breath she took.
There she is, Roger, he thought to himself. The woman you always wanted. There is her lovely face and those great tits and that beautiful ass. She may not be worth a shit in bed, but she's all yours. Better enjoy her, Roger. God knows she was expensive enough.
He finished his drink and tried to sleep, but wasn't able to get Buck's face out of his mind. He just lay there staring at the ceiling. Waiting.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Several times over the next few days Buck wished he had taken along his uniform. Civilians, he decided, were looked upon as being poor risks in the hitchhiking department. He was passed, splattered with mud, and nearly run-over so many times that he was developing a serious rejection complex.
A few miles outside Macon, Georgia, three overripe Cracker farm girls, gnawing on green peaches, picked him up in a vintage pickup truck, stolen for the express purpose of acting out their interpretation of the Women's Liberation Movement.
"Ever been raped before, Yankee?" asked the heavy of the trio. She was a two-hundred-pound beast with dirty fingernails and a whiskey baritone voice. The butt of a .45 automatic hung over the edge of the pocket of her overalls.
"Well, I ... "
"He sure is a purty thang, ain't he?" This question came from the six-foot-three, eighty-two-pound beauty on whose lap Buck was sitting. Her knees were like broom handles and the right one was goosing him. Every time they hit a bump, he felt his prostate tingle. "Don't you think so, Hortense?"
"Heh, heh! Heh, heh, heh, heh," Hortense giggled, unzipping Buck's fly and going down on his cock. Hortense was the prettiest one of the lot. Buck tried to overlook the bumper crop of acne blossoming on her face. Being toothless, she was a natural at giving head.
"What's wrong with yur head?" asked the bean pole nibbling on Buck's ear.
Buck was no fool. He'd seen Cool Hand Luke. He knew the score. "Got kicked in the head by a mule tryin' to lynch a nigger."
"Sheeeet! Listen to that Yankee rave on! There ain't a nigger in this state that couldn't whup you with both hands tied behind his back 'n his cock stuck up a pig's ass. How ya doin', Hortense?"
"Heh heh! Heh, heh, heh!"
The fat driver pulled her gun and pressed it against Buck's temple. "Get it up!" Buck threw up his hands. "Not yur hands, dumb ass, yur cock! Yur pussyfootin' around in the hard-on department is an insult to mah sister's fine blow job. So, git it up 'r I'll blow yur fuckin' head off!"
Buck went through his catalogue of fantasies, but succeeded in raising nothing more than a few gallons of sweat. Fatso started a countdown, and Laurie's face flashed before Buck's eyes. Then he called for and got an instant replay of their first meeting. He watched Laurie watching him with great desire as she sucked Leo's cock, and his own began to rise.
"He gjttin' it up, Hortense?" asked Fatso.
"Heh, heh! Heh, heh, heh, glub, glub!"
"You sure is a lucky shit." Fatso pulled the truck off the road, and the three charmers led Buck to a pecan grove where they had an all around good time treating him as a sex object. It was dark before they decided this turnip had no more blood to give, so they took all his clothes and left him with his wrists tied to his ankles.
It took Buck another hour to hobble back out onto the highway. The first two cars almost hit him, but the third screeched to a halt, and a robust farmer came to his rescue. "Hey, you don't know how much I appreciate your stopping for me. You won't believe this, but these three girls picked me up and spent the day raping me and making me eat them. And then they took all my money and my clothes and tied me up so I'd be in this ridiculous position with my ass stuck up in the air."
The farmer looked the situation over, scratched his head, unzipped his fly and moved in behind him. "This jist ain't yur day, is it, fella?"
Other than that, Buck's trip home was uneventful. When the farmer finished with him, he took pity on Buck and untied him. Buck knocked him out with a rock and stole his car.
* * *
"Wake up, love," Abigail said softly, nudging her weary son.
Buck's eyes popped wide open and he shot straight up in the bed with his arms stretched out in front of him to hold his mother at bay. "Wait! Don't hit me, Mom! I can explain everything! I didn't want to come here. No, ma'am, I really tried to get in my house, but it was locked. I'm not shitting you ... I mean, I'm telling you the truth, Mom, I couldn't get in so I had to come here!"
Honey dripped from her voice. "Now, Bucky, you know you're always welcome here, darling. This is your home." She reached out to hug him and he pushed himself flat against the wall.
"Don't touch me! I'll go! Right now if you like!"
"Don't you see you never have to go, Bucky? We're going to do all the things we used to."
"Mom, you ... you haven't called me Bucky since I was a kid." Her smile was so warm and ingratiating he knew she must have a gun in her bosom.
"Why, that's the way I think about you now."
"Why now ... I mean, why not a couple of weeks ago?"
"That was before I knew you were such a war hero. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I did."
"Not all of it." She reached into her housecoat pocket. Buck dove back in bed and covered up his head. "Bucky, you didn't tell me about this." She stuck the paper under the covers and Buck cautiously came out of hiding. It was a copy of the Fletcher Falls Forum, several days old, and the headline read: BUCK RIDDLEMAN GIVES ALL FOR COUNTRY. The story went on to tell how Buck had lost his manhood on a mission in which he killed the Cong's number one spy moments before the spy would have assassinated General Andrew Pine. For this he had been given the Silver Star. Congressman Roger Stanton, the article went on, has declared Buck Riddleman Day to be observed sometime in the near future.
Your day will come too, Roger, Buck thought. Sometime in the near future. And you'll spend it behind bars.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to have my little boy back home again."
"Mother?"
"It seems like such a long time since we played together. I thought those days were gone forever."
"Mother, don't kiss me like that! It sends cold chills up my spine!"
"But now I've got a second chance. We'll go on picnics and to the zoo and I'll buy you a ... ha, ha, I almost said I'll buy you a sailor suit. Isn't that silly?"
"I could use some clothes," Buck said, pulling the sheet around him. "You see this nutty farmer took everything I had and -"
"Oh, I'll go out right now and get them for you, son. Breakfast is on the table. You help yourself and I'll be back in no time." She danced out of the room like a young girl waltzing home after her first kiss.
Buck picked up the phone and dialed. A man answered. "Mr. Stanton, please."
"Sorry, Mr. Stanton isn't in."
"Is ... is Mrs. Stanton home."
"Yes, she is. Who may I say is calling?"
"Tell her ... tell her an old boy friend."
"Very well, sir." There was a pause.
"Hello?" It was Gina's voice. "Hello, who is this?"
"Hi, there."
"Buck? Buck is that you?"
"Yeah, sorry I missed your letter. I would have ... I would have stayed over there."
"Oh, Buck, darling, I'm so sorry! I can't tell you how I feel! I've got to see you!" She was on the verge of tears and Buck knew it.
"Thanks a lot, Gina," he sobbed, faking very well. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you want to see me. Too bad ... too bad you didn't want to see me when ... when I was a whooooooole maaaaaaaan!" He made all the noises that go along with uncontrollable crying.
"Don't say that, Buck! I know I was wrong. I know I should have waited for you, darling. But don't you see, this way it's just as well that I didn't. You wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life without sex, would you?"
"Gina," Buck answered, easing back on the tears a little, "you didn't care about sex when we were together."
"I know, but it was such a comfort to know it was there. When you were gone, I was suddenly filled with all these creepy feelings that nobody wanted me."
"Well then, why for God's sake didn't you go out and get yourself laid?"
"What! And destroy everything we worked so hard to build between us? Buck, I was thinking of us."
"I see," he said, not seeing anything at all.
"Look, I've talked it over with Roger and guess what?"
"Tell me-I can't wait."
"He said we could see each other as often as possible. Sex came between us too much Buck. We never really got to know one another."
"Gina, I've known you for twenty years."
"But in all that time have we ever really talked about anything for the sake of talking about it? I mean, so many times I wanted to talk to you in a non-sexual sense, but we were always either in a state just before having sex or just after. Everything we said and did evolved from sex. Now, I'm really sorry you got hurt the way you did."
"You're just saying that."
"No. No, I mean it. I'm terribly sorry because I know how much you always enjoyed yourself in that way. But it could be a blessing in disguise, Buck."
"If it is, whoever did it did a damn good job on the disguise part."
"Seriously, this could be the way for us to really get close to one another. To come together without ulterior motives."
"When can I see you?"
"This afternoon."
"Fine."
"You want to come out here?"
"No, let's meet in the park, near the creek, remember?"
"Of course I do, darling. About three?"
"Be fine. Goodbye."
Buck hung up, threw off the sheet, climbed out of bed and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the door. As soon as he made eye contact with his own image, he was hit by a sudden blast of power. He felt like Moses must have done the moment God handed him the tablets, or Noah as he built the ark, or Cassius Clay when Liston couldn't get off his stool.
He pushed his cock between his legs and tried to hold it there. Even though it was quite small he couldn't take a step without it flopping forward. He dug through Leo's drawers and came up with a jock strap. It helped, but there was still a bulge when he put it on. Back in the drawer he found what he was looking for-the dancer's belt he and his brother had used when their mother had insisted they take up ballet. Buck slipped into the wide band of elastic and looked back in the mirror. His pubic area was as void of lumps as a girl's. He laughed out loud, put on Leo's robe and raced downstairs to the kitchen. All of his favorite foods had been prepared and put in the oven to warm. There was a rib eye steak, charred on the outside and raw in the middle; soft scrambled eggs with green onions chopped up in them; country fried potatoes; fresh buttermilk; homemade jelly and cathead biscuits. He spread it all out on the table and scoffed it down.
Feeling good, he swaggered into the living room, spread out on the couch and enjoyed a cigarette. He loved to put his feet on the couch because Abigail used to beat the shit out of him when he did it. A passing glance at the mirror showed him a reflection that jolted his mind. There in the looking glass was his father. That's right, he thought, this was his robe before I used it and handed it down to Leo. And he did have a moustache. But when did I see him stretched out like this?
Buck let his mind drift to a time when he would hide at the top of the stairs and peer through the wooden bars when strangers visited. He was always too shy to speak or go down, but he loved to watch from his secret hiding place. Yes, it was coming back to him now. His father had tucked him in bed and told him not to leave his room, but when he heard voices downstairs, he couldn't resist the temptation to see what was happening.
In his little rabbit-suit pajamas with the trap door in back, he snuck to the head of the stairs and looked down. There on the couch was his father, stretched out in this very same position. A woman came in from the dining room. She was completely naked and had red hair in both places. Buck had never seen a naked woman before and he was most impressed with her appearance-the long smooth legs; the symmetry of her lovely ass; the shape, size and mesmerizing bounce of her more than ample titties.
The lady in question stood before Larry Riddleman, posing like a statue. She must be happy, baby Buck thought, because she is smiling. She spread the robe open and Larry's cock stood at half-mast. The look of it delighted her even more; she sat between his legs, licked her hand a few times and began stroking the snakelike growth. It grew, and Buck saw her other hand reach down to fondle his balls. She continued slowly pumping his dick and toying with his balls for a minute or so. It was all very interesting.
Then she did something young Buck thought was most unusual. She leaned over, kissed the swollen staff, then began to suck it like a popsicle. Buck knew she wasn't eating it like a hot dog because of the indentations in her cheeks. His father began to moan and rotate his hips. He reached forward and cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing them until their tips were three times ordinary size. "Up here, baby," Larry said. "Climb aboard."
With that, the radiant redhead spread her legs and straddled Buck's father. Little Buck's mouth fell open when he saw the huge cock slowly disappear into the pretty panting lady's body. They fucked like wild animals. Later when Buck heard the word "fuck" for the first time and was told what it meant, he got a beautiful feeling of warm excitement as he recalled the pretty lady fucking his father.
The couple fucked on and on. Buck felt a stirring he could not explain within his body and his toy cock perked up. Remembering what the woman had done, he licked his hand, stuck it in his pajamas, and started pulling his pudding.
Her face was distorted in pain, and Buck half-expected his father to draw a gun.
"Oh, shit!" shouted his father. "Hang on little girl- I'm ... I'm ... I'm COMING!" To Buck's way of thinking, his father had already arrived.
A young and very beautiful Abigail walked in and the couple jumped up and off the couch. "Now, Abigail," Larry said, as the jism spurted from his cock onto the gold carpet, "don't ... don't get excited. I can explain everything!"
Abigail crashed a big brass lamp over his head, and he slapped her. He shouldn't have done that. Slowly she picked up a poker from the fireplace. Larry covered his face, and she brought the black metal rod down across his extended prick as hard as she could. Larry's scream seemed to shake every wall in the house, and little Buck scampered back to his room and hid under his bed. He never saw his father again.
Buck sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. He didn't want to think about it anymore.
"I took everything he had, Bucky," his mother said, carrying an armload of clothes into the living room and putting them on a chair. "Take what you like and I'll send the rest back." She pinched her startled son on the cheek. "We're going to have so much fun together." She turned on the stereo, pulled Buck to his feet, and started dancing with him. "Yes, there will be music and laughter in this tired old house for a change."
* * *
Gina was beautiful-simply beautiful. She wore a white lace pants-suit and smelled sweeter than the wild flowers around the spot in the park where she placed her blanket and picnic basket.
Buck came out of the high grass and knelt beside her. "Hello, Gina."
"Hello."
"You look magnificent."
"Thank you."
"What's the protocol for such a meeting?" he asked with a nervous laugh. "I don't know whether to kiss you or shake hands."
"Silly." She leaned toward him, put her hand around his neck and kissed him.
"Money becomes you."
"So does a faithful husband."
"Zing! There we are. Right in the middle of it."
"No. No more. We're not married any more. We don't have to fight. Chicken legs?"
"Don't mind if I do." He took the piece of chicken and started nibbling on it. "Very good. Cook it yourself?"
"Good heavens, no. That's what cooks are for."
"How stupid of me. Still fool around in the garden?"
"No, we have a gardener."
"Just what do you do with your time."
"Oh, lots of things. I have teas."
"Served by the maid?"
"Yes, and there's always plenty of stimulating conversation there."
"What does a Congressman's wife talk about?"
"Oh ... world things mostly."
"That's ... that's great. Look, I hate to eat and run, but I've got a million and one things to do this afternoon and ... "
"Don't go! I'd planned to spend the day with you!"
"What would we do?"
Gina moved closer to him. "I've missed you, Buck." She took his hand and put it inside her bosom. "I can't seem to get turned on when Roger touches me, and yet, right now, I'm trembling like a schoolgirl. Maybe it's this place. Remember the night you proposed to me? I was so afraid of you then. Hold me. Make me feel like a woman."
"Here in broad daylight?"
"Yes."
Buck unzipped the back of her garment and pulled it down to her waist. He had forgotten how beautiful her tits were; how her lovely pink nipples flared upwards when he kissed them. He had never quite understood the aerodynamic principle by which such plump items were allowed to defy the law of gravity.
Drawing Gina into his lap, his mouth quickly found hers, then continued down her lovely throat and onto her chest. He bunched her lovely pair of coconuts together and fucked her cleavage with his hard hungry tongue. "Ohhhhh," she cooed, "kiss them, sweetheart! Make them get real hard! Oh, yes, Buck, bite them! Ohhhh, ohh, more, harder, ohhhhhh! Yes, angel, yes!"
"You sure you want me to go on with this?" Buck asked, coming up for air. "You know, I can't go as far as I used to."
"You'll think of something," she moaned. Her voice sounded as though it came from another world. "I trust you completely."
Buck worked the beautiful lace over her hips and down to her knees. And there it was, wasn't it? This was the cunt that launched a thousand ships and so on. He sang to himself: Oh, beautiful for spacious cunts-for amber waves of hair. Not amber; just deliciously golden. From his viewpoint, less than an inch away as he licked the tiny hairs that ran from navel to thatch, her pulchritudinous pussy looked like a glorious wheatfield, shining brightly in the sun and swaying this way and that as it was gently played upon by the wind.
He pushed her forward a little onto her side, and when he dove into her muff, she opened her legs enough for him to wedge his head between her silky thighs. It was a good fit. Buck lapped lazily at first, then increased his tempo and the depth of his stabbings. Her pussy was actually as sweet as the rest of her; and before he knew it, his role changed from giver to taker. Her crotch smelled like an orchid and tasted like wild, sweet, succulent berries. He pursed his lips tightly around the entrance to her cunt; he sucked with all his might and flapped his hungry tongue madly in and out of her tasty orifice. He sucked the delicious nectar from the far folds of her gushing pussy with the deftness of a gourmet eating Chinese snails, and the zest of a starving street urchin.
Neither the eater nor the eaten had any way of calculating how much time had elapsed before Buck came up for a much deserved rest. With his head on her stomach and hers on his hip, they looked directly into one another's eyes but it took a few moments for the glaze to subside sufficiently for them to focus properly. Their collective panting was like that of two boxers who have just finished a hundred-round fight. "How ... how come you ... taste that way?" Buck asked.
"Rasp ... berries."
"In here?" Buck asked, returning to her glistening slit and lapping its length at a leisurely pace. "You have raspberries in here?"
"Not ... whole ones ... silly. It's a raspberry ... flavored ... douche." Buck changed positions, dipping his head under her thigh and popping up between her legs so he could eat her and look at her at the same time. "A lot of things have happened since you went overseas, Buck." Buck pried her open with his fingers and trapped her clit between his lips. "Why, we now have ... AH AHHHHHHHHHHH ... uh, things like vaginal sprays and flavored douches." He took the rigid nub between his teeth and gnawed upon it lightly. "I mean ... YES YES ... uh, there are so many more ways for women to express themselves sexually. Like the ad says, we've come a long way, BAAAAAAABY! OH, SHIT! I'M COMING A LONG WAY RIGHT THIS MINUTE! EAT IT, LOVER! BITE IT HARD ... ER ... OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Gina clamped her legs tightly around Buck's head and neck in an attempt to discourage further tonguings; but Buck hung in there, riding with her bucking motion. Like an expert rodeo rider, he stayed loose in the saddle, flopping about like a sack of potatoes, never fighting her and never relinquishing his tooth-hold on her tender clit. Another orgasm swept over her like a tidal wave, and she bridged her body into as high an arc as possible and held that position. "Oh! OH! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Then she fell all the way back to earth again like a plummeting rock, but Buck made the trip with her and kept biting and sucking. "No, no, no, nononononono! There's no more! There's no more, there's no more! Get up ... please ... stop ... I can't stand ... oh, Oh, OH, ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Gina bucked again, but this time her adrenalin gland came into play. She shot straight up into the air, cleared Buck's head, spun over on her side, came down on the incline of the creek bank and screamed as she rolled the ten feet or so into the icy water.
After thrashing about in the muddy water and calling for help for about five minutes, Gina pulled herself onto a small ledge in the steep bank with the help of a tree root which protruded over the water. Her lovely lace garment had come off in the scuffle, and she watched it cascade over a small waterfall in the distance. She caught her breath and made one more attempt to summon her ex-husband. "Buuuuuuuuck!"
A man in a chauffeur's uniform appeared above her. "Madam, Mr. Riddleman asked me to tell you he had another engagement and begged your pardon for taking leave."
"Franklyn, come down here and help me up!"
"Excuse me, madam, but I couldn't help noticing that you have lost your clothing. It would hardly be proper for me to come any closer."
"Tie your handkerchief around your eyes and come down. I can't hold onto this root much longer."
"As you wish." Franklyn was a tall thin man in his early fifties. He blindfolded himself, sat down on the top of the slope and slowly made his way downward, propelling himself by letting one cheek of his ass follow the other.
"That's right," Gina directed. "A little more to the left. Good. Good. Now, take my hand. No, no, to the left! That's it-I've got it. Now, pull me ... watch out-you're falling!" The two of them splashed into the water. "You clumsy fool! Why didn't you watch where you were going?" she said, returning to her root.
"Sorry, Madam," Franklyn answered very calmly, though he was flailing desperately to keep his head above water. "Would you think ... glub ... it would be impertinent of me ... glub ... to remove the handkerchief from my eyes."
"Whatever for?"
"Because I cannot swim ... glub ... and I am quite certain ... glub ... that I'm in the process of drowning."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Buck Riddleman Day was the most exciting event to happen within the conservative confines of Fletcher Falls since Alf Landon had given an impassioned speech in which he outlined in no uncertain terms his plan to get "that man" out of the White House.
The entire affair had been very hush-hush. Jim Christopher, feeling pretty low for his shabby treatment of Buck that day in his barber shop, invited his old friend to spend a few days with him and his family. What Buck didn't know was that Jim was on the committee in charge of dressing up the town for Buck Riddleman Day.
Jim's house was way out in the country-the perfect place to keep Buck from finding out that he was about to be honored. What Jim didn't know was that Buck had banged his wife Sandy seventeen times during Jim's business hours over the preceding three days.
Everything was set. All the merchants posted American flags, and red, white and blue banners were strung across the major intersections of the town. A speaker's platform with more banners was erected in the park, and the ladies of Fletcher Falls prepared enough picnic food to feed a small army.
Jim looked at the clock. It was time. He left Carl Phillips half-shaven in the chair and called home.
"Sandy? Hey there, wake up!" Buck shook the small raven-haired woman lying next to him in Jim's bed.
"What? Oh, you woke me from the most beautiful dream I've ever had. You see, there was this great-looking man with the most talented moustache in captivity, and he was making mad passionate love to me. Why did you wake me from such a lovely dream?"
"The telephone's ringing."
"So it is. Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you answer it?"
He gave her a loud kiss on her upturned nose. "All right." He picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Buck, this is Jim."
"Hey, baby, what's happening?"
"Look, I'm having car trouble. Why don't you and Sandy come get me in the pickup?"
"But it's ... it's only noon, Jim."
"Yeah, well, I thought I'd take the rest of the day off. It's just too pretty to be cooped up in here all day. Maybe we'll all go fishing. How does that sound?"
"Fine ... that sounds ... just fine, Jimbo."
"Say, you're breathing awfully hard there, fella. You been running?"
"Yeah ... yeah, that's it ... I was out at the well ... ran all the way in. That's why it took so long to answer the phone."
"Well, how about it? Want to go dip a line?"
"Just a second, Jim. Sandy just came in. I'll ask her." He covered the mouthpiece and lay all the way back in bed. "Oh, wow! Look, baby ... I know you give the greatest blow job in ... in the whole world ... but do you have to do it when I'm rapping with your old man?"
Sandy looked up from Buck's rigid cock glistening with her saliva. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she toyed around the pink head of his throbbing prick with the tip of her tongue. "I may never pass this way again. Millions of disasters could befall us before you hung up the phone." She took him deep in her throat and let her lips loll about the base of his cock.
"Wha ... wha ... what disasters?"
"For one, Chicken Little came by this morning and said the sky was falling."
"I ... I didn't know that." He put the receiver back to his ear. "Hello, Jim? Yeah, Sandy says that'll be JUST FINE!"
"Why are you shouting?" Jim asked.
"MUST BE A BAD CONNECTION! I CAAAAAAN'T HEEEEEAR YOOOOOOOU!" Buck slammed the receiver into its cradle, pushed his fingers through Sandy's ebony tresses and hung on for dear life. Her hungry mouth sucked in his gushing semen as frantically as one lost in the desert might suck upon the mouth of a new-found canteen.
Thrashing about on the bed like a tiger in a net, Buck tried to pull her off him by the hair of her head, but couldn't muster up the strength to break her tenacious hold upon him. Red-faced, he turned to one side of the bed and found himself eyeball to eyeball with four-year-old angelic looking Carla Christopher. The precious little girl seemed very much at ease with the situation, and she grinned broadly when Buck noticed her and nonchalantly continued to lick her banana popsicle.
"Seeeee, Mommy!" she said, pointing to her busy mother.
"Hey ... hey, Sandy, have a heart, will you? You're sucking my insides out!" Sandy didn't respond. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be in a catatonic state, though her mouth continued to pump his cock with great vigor.
"In glippo, today?" Carla asked.
"Anything you say, sweetheart. Oh, Lord God, help me! I'm dying!"
Carla moved between her mother's legs which extended over the edge of the bed. Buck had never seen a pussy so dripping wet. It moved with involuntary snapping contractions in time with the sucking action of her mouth.
"Anna lottie beebee!" Carla declared with great conviction.
"God damn, Sandy, stop it! Can't you see Carla is here? You don't want to warp her mind, do you? Oh, shit!"
Sandy continued to suck, if anything, at a faster pace; and Buck resigned himself to the seeming certainty that he was going to have a heart attack and die in this position.
Suddenly Sandy came off him. She shot up into a sitting position. Every muscle in her body was as rigid as cement. Her eyes were as big as portholes and her mouth open in the screaming position, but no sound at all came from her. Carla fell on the floor, wracked by convulsions of moronic laughter. Buck scratched his head in complete wonderment. Then he noticed that the popsicle was missing. Stick and all.
* * *
There was nothing in the Douglas bedroom to indicate that a man shared the room. The round bed was fitted with silk sheets and a satin spread, both in shades of lavender. A multicolored tapestry covered most of the wall near the bed, and ankle-deep carpet, rich scarlet, covered the floor. The huge walk-in closet bulged with Martha's clothes-Brice had long since moved his to the guest room.
Martha sat before the gold-framed mirror on her dressing table, caught up in the tedious process of applying her false eyelashes. Brice paced the full length of the room. He was sweating profusely, all three hundred pounds of him. Sweating was a special talent of Brice's. He could sweat any time or place and under any conditions. Whether working in the meat cooler, building a snowman, or just walking around his air-conditioned home, every pore of his body seemed to be locked in the open position.
"I don't like it, Martha. What if it should leak out that I hired a detective to keep you away from Buck?"
"Put it out of your mind and stop pacing. You're wearing a path in the carpet." She spotted a new wrinkle in her forehead and twisted the rheostat which dimmed the lights around her dressing mirror.
"That's easy enough for you to say. You don't have to face these people. You don't depend on them for your livelihood. This could ruin me-accusing a war hero of fooling around with my wife-especially a war hero who can't fool around anymore and that's why he's a war hero. This is all Jim Christopher's fault. He put those crazy ideas in my head."
"Bullshit! You're so jealous you stay up nights trying to figure out a way to keep me from sleeping with me. Which brings me to another point: why don't you move into the guest room?"
"What do you mean by that?" Brice asked, his eyes narrowing into two little beads.
"It's just stupid for you to sleep in here. You roll out of bed two, sometimes three times every night. Don't you get tired of crashing onto the floor that way?"
"It's those damn sheets and the shape of that idiotic bed that does it. But to answer your question, no, I'm not moving into the guest room. As long as we're married I'm sleeping right here where a husband belongs. What are you trying to say? Give me one good reason why I should move into the other room. Go ahead, give me just one good reason!"
"All right, if you insist. We don't have sex often enough for that to be the reason. Everything has to be perfect- the weather, your mood, the goddamned store. I'm lucky if I get laid two or three times a year. Move into the guest room. When you feel the urge to screw, you can phone it in."
"Funny. Ha, ha, ha, that's very funny. You're a goddamned scream sometimes, Martha."
"And about your snoring."
"Who snores? I don't snore. Don't you think I'd know it if I snored?"
"How could you? You're asleep at the time. Believe me, you sound like a walrus in heat. And then there's that other thing."
"What other thing?"
"You know what other thing."
"Look, if I knew what other thing do you think I'd ask you what other thing?" He paused. "What other thing?"
Martha dropped her eye-liner on the glass top, turned in her swivel chair and looked directly into her husband's eyes. "Brice, you fart too much!"
"That's a nasty thing to say! Have you no respect? Why did you say such a nasty thing as that?"
"Because you asked me to."
"Couldn't you rephrase it so it doesn't sound so nasty?"
"All right." She looked up at him again. "Brice, when you break wind it sounds like a buffalo fart!"
"Well, it's not my fault. I have a nervous stomach."
"I see, and that half a gallon of beer you drink every night before going to bed-that doesn't have anything to do with it?"
"Not at all. Beer doesn't affect me that way. But if it really bothers you, I'll see Doc Harper about it."
"You do that."
Brice picked up a copy of Vogue and thumbed through it. "Besides, it doesn't smell bad. Think how lucky you are. A lot of wives have to put up with husbands that make smelly ones."
"Darling?"
"Yes?"
"When you see Doc Harper, have him take a look at your nose, too."
Brice started pacing again. "Is that all you can think about on a day like this. I'm about to be run out of town and all you can do is make jokes."
"Look, you're not going to be run out of town."
"I got to do something to make up for it."
"You gave all the food for the picnic. What else can you do?"
"Let's invite Buck to go up to the cabin with us for a couple of weeks."
"What for?"
"Aha! I knew it, I knew it! You don't like him anymore, right?"
"Well, of course I like him. That doesn't mean ... "
"If I'd asked you that before he went and got his business shot off, I bet you'd be licking my face with joy, now, wouldn't you?"
"Brice, what possible difference could it make ... ?"
"I'll tell you. We had planned to go with the Christophers. That suited you just fine. What's going on between you and Jim Christopher?"
"Nothing's going on between me and Jim. Carl Phillips was coming along, too. I didn't make a fuss about him. Does that mean there's something going on between me and Carl?"
"Say it's all right with you if we go up with Buck-just the three of us."
"Why?"
"If you love me you'll say it's all right."
"Okay, it's all right."
"Finish it."
"It's all right with me if we go up to the cabin with Buck Riddleman-just the three of us!"
"Right! Thought you could pull a fast one over on me, didn't you? Well, I've got a fat flash for you, Martha. You've got to get up pretty early in the morning to pull a fast one over on me. Yes sir! Now, hurry up and get dressed. It's almost time for the ceremony."
* * *
"I don't like it," Buck said, honking the horn of the pickup as he approached the top of a hill on the narrow country road.
"What?" Sandy asked, slipping into a sweater she found behind the seat.
"The whole thing. Jim's car breaking down. The invitation to go fishing. You don't think he suspects, do you?"
"No, you're imagining things. I've lived with Jim so long I know what he's thinking before he does."
"What if he were to find out I wasn't really castrated?"
"He'd come looking for you with a shotgun; he wouldn't call and invite you to go fishing."
"Maybe you're right."
"Shut the window, will you?"
"What for? It must be close to a hundred degrees."
"Just do it," she said, putting her arms around him. "And turn on the heater. I don't think I'll ever be warm again as long as I live."
Buck continued to drive toward town. Sandy saw the first banner and nudged him. "There's your answer."
"Welcome to ... Buck Riddleman day," he read, and laughed. "Hey, that's all right!"
As he drove through town, children started running after the truck screaming for him to go to the park. Everyone waved and smiled at him and he smiled and waved back. He stopped in front of the barber shop and Jim hopped into the back of the truck. "Keep going!" he shouted through the cab window. "They'll mob you if you stop here! Drive on to the park!"
As the truck pulled up behind the platform, the Fletcher Falls High School Band broke into a loud off key rendition of For He's a Jolly Good Fellow, and Buck could see that most of the town's population was sitting on the grass. He climbed the steps leading up to the platform and was greeted by a thunderous ovation. There were about twenty people on the platform, Buck's mother being one of them.
Buck maintained his dumbstruck smile as Roger Stanton shook his hand and showed him where to sit. Roger then walked to the podium and waved his hands for quiet. The crowd obeyed. "Ladies and gentlemen, young people of Fletcher Falls, today is a day for us all to long remember: because today is Buck Riddleman Day!"
Another wave of applause swept over the park and subsided. "Almost two years ago this young man went into battle in the defense of his country. When called upon to do his duty, did he waver? No! Did he try to wiggle his way out because he was well past the draft age? No! Did he burn his draft card? No! He took his responsibility squarely on his shoulders like all God-fearing, red-blooded Americans should do and marched right into the face of the enemy!" More crowd reaction.
"Our country said: 'Buck Riddleman, we got a war going on in Southeast Asia. It's not a romantic war. The country's ugly. The enemy's hard to spot. After a rain the jungle gets so hot you feel like you're being baked in an oven. But we need you over there to fight Communism and help those decent people in South Vietnam hold onto their land. Will you go?' And Buck Riddleman said: 'Yes.' " More applause.
"And when Buck got there, he didn't featherbed, no sir! He took every chance to do his best to serve his country. To protect you and you and you and me. And one day ... the filthy Cong infiltrated our ranks to assassinate no less a personage than General Andrew Pine. And Buck Riddleman took his place. And his body was torn in the most hideous manner imaginable. That day in the jungle Buck Riddleman showed us how much he loved us. And today, we're going to show him how much we love Aim!" Everyone stood and applauded.
"I'm not going to make a big long speech, but before the actual presentation of the gifts, let's hear a few words from Buck's mother, Abigail Riddleman!"
Buck's mother walked to the stand. There was a halo-like aura of light around her head. "I can't tell you how pleased I am that you have given up the better part of a working day to honor my little Bucky. Our family has not been without problems, as you all know. It hasn't been easy raising two boys without a father; but the old saying is certainly true: God works in strange ways.
"If anything, this apparent tragedy has brought our family closer together. I didn't know the extent of Bucky's injuries when he first came back-that's how brave he really is-he didn't want to worry his mother. Now that I do know, all I can say is, thank God it wasn't worse! I have my little boy back again, and that's all that matters.
"Bucky, your brother has a surprise for you now. Leo, come up, son."
Leo stood and walked to the center of the platform. Buck's eyes widened in disbelief. He hadn't even been aware that his brother was seated on the stage. The boy he looked at now bore absolutely no resemblance to the his dude he had seen on his homecoming. He was clean shaven, his hair was in a crew cut, and he was wearing an Army uniform. "Hi, Buck?"
"Hello, Leo," Buck answered in a daze. The audience laughed.
"If Buck seems a little shocked it's because he didn't know I had enlisted. When I heard the news-when I heard what those dirty bastards ... excuse me, Mom ... had done to my brother, I realized that hope of peaceful negotiation was nothing but a pipe dream. Now, I've got a score to settle with those slant-eyed little mother ... gooses, and I'm going to help settle it!" A roar went up from the crowd.
"Things look different on this side of the action. We, who are here in the safety and warmth of our beds, don't get a very clear picture of what's happening, and we tend to think in abstractions-at least that's what happened to me. But no more. My eyes are open now. When Charlie showed his ass and cut down my brother, he got a whole lot more than he bargained for! That's all I have to say." Leo received a standing ovation and Roger took over.
"Thank you. Thank you, Leo and Mrs. Riddleman. Buck, come on up." Buck rose and went to the stand, and Roger put his arm around him. "As most of you know, Buck was given the Silver Star for his heroism." More applause. "Buck, we wouldn't feel right unless you let us show you our appreciation. We took up a collection and here's the result-a check for fifteen thousand dollars!" More applause.
"Thank you, Roger. And thank you all! I ... I really don't know what to say."
"And there's more. I made a couple of phone calls to Washington. The insurance agency for the government has decided that your injury should be interpreted as a loss of a limb and they are awarding you ten thousand dollars!"
"That's marvelous, Roger. I really appreciate it."
"And ... you don't know it, but General Pine promoted you when you were in the hospital. So, instead of a couple of hundred dollars a month, your life pension will be eight hundred dollars a month! What do you think about that?"
"That's really something, Roger. I really don't know what to say or how to thank you enough."
"Dell? What have you got for our hero?"
Dell Robinson joined them, eyeing Buck very carefully as he walked to his side and warily put his arm around him. "It's nothing really, considering how much you have given us, Buck ... but ... well, here are the keys to a brand new red Impala convertible." Dell handed Buck the keys and looked into his eyes for the first time, instinctively covering his bandaged nose. "I ... I hope you like it."
"Wow! Thank you, Dell. I really don't know how to thank you all. This ... this really is a day for surprises! One that I will remember for the rest of my life. I don't know what heroes are supposed to say ... I haven't really had much experience." Everyone laughed. "But I do know this: it sure is good to be home. What happened to me could happen to anyone. I love my country and especially my home town. My only regret is that ... I can't join Leo and do it all over again. Thank you very much!"
The band blared out the high school football song and people of Fletcher Falls carried Buck all over the park on their shoulders.
There was much singing and dancing to follow as the picnic lasted far into the night. There seemed to be no end to the food, beer, and kind words Buck's neighbors had for him.
Every woman on the scene gave Buck at least one tearful kiss before the party was over. Many of the women's husbands stood nearby as they did so, applauding them on.
Buck finally passed out at three in the morning. Leo and Abigail carried him home and put him in her bed as she had done so many times when he was a child. She, too, was quite exhausted from all the festivities. She slipped out of her clothes, into bed, pulled Buck's head to her bosom and fell asleep.
CHAPTER NINE
"I don't like it!" Dell barked. He was watching Roger toss darts in his game room. In this case the word "game" had a double meaning, for in addition to the pinball machines, slot machines, pool table, etcetera, the walls of the room were covered with animal heads, fish, and other sports trophies.
"You don't like what?"
"None of it! Particularly the way Riddleman looked at me when I gave him the car."
"He seemed to be smiling from where I was standing."
"That's just it. Why was he smiling if he wasn't trying to tell me something?"
"Maybe he was glad to get the car. Did you ever think of that?" Roger retrieved the darts.
"No, no, it was a smug smile. I know the difference between a happy smile and a smug smile. I tell you he's up to something. What happens if he goes to the papers with that draft board story?"
"I'll stop him."
"How?"
"Like this!" Roger turned and threw in one lightning-quick motion. The dart tore the cigarette out of Dell's mouth and pinned it to the neck of the moose mounted on the wall behind him.
"Son of a bitch! You could have killed me!"
"That's right, and that's one of the major differences between you and me, Dell. I hit what I aim at. When I decide to kill something, I kill it."
"Don't blame me for what happened to Rafe."
Roger pointed another dart directly at Dell's nose and cocked his arm. "Tell me, Dell, what did happen to Rafe?"
"Well, I ... I don't know for sure. I figure he tried to hit Riddleman, and ... and Buck killed him! Yeah, that's probably what happened."
"What did he do with the body?"
"Buried it, I guess."
"Where?"
"How the hell do I know?" Sweat started to flow down Dell's cheek, but he was afraid to wipe. "Hey, put that thing down, will you?"
"Think about it. If you were Buck, what would you do with the body?"
"Well, let's see ... I guess ... I guess I'd try to frame me for it, or maybe you. Yeah, I'd bury the body near one of us so we'd get the blame."
"Good thinking. But I've combed every inch of both our properties and there's no grave."
"So, he buried it someplace else."
"I see. Now, let's see if I've got this straight. Buck's lying in his hospital bed, and Rafe shoots at close range and misses. Then Buck overpowers the ex-boxer and kills him. Then he carries him out in the country and buries him. And he did it all with a fractured skull. Anybody who believes a story like that would have to be a damn fool."
"Well, what do you think happened?"
Roger turned his back and threw at the target, hitting the bulls eye. "I think you killed him, Dell."
"Why?"
"Because he was fooling around with Maria."
"That's a goddamned lie!"
"Oh, no. Sprague found her prints all over Rafe's apartment. She must have spent a couple of weeks in there."
Dell turned livid with anger and collapsed onto the couch. "Why didn't Sprague tell me about it?"
"He's my cop, not yours. I told him not to."
"I'll kill that bitch with my own hands! I never suspected."
"I know." Roger went to the phone and dialed.
"You took a big chance, Roger. If I had killed Rafe, I probably would have drawn my gun and shot you on the spot."
"That's not an easy thing to do with four darts sticking out of your forehead."
"You really think you could beat me to it?"
"Anytime you want a demonstration, just let me know." The party on the other end of the phone answered. "Hello, Manny? I found out the name of that place where the fishing is so good. It's called Lake Archer. Up in the northeast corner of the state. Fine, fine. Bring me back a few. We'll have a fish fry." He hung up.
"Manny Ross?" Dell asked.
"Yeah."
"Well, that's that."
"Yeah." The front door chimes rang. "Cheer up, our friends are here."
Roger went to the front door and opened it. Three beautiful women, dressed to the teeth, stood on the porch. He invited them in and they followed him to the game room.
"Muhammad wouldn't come to the mountain, so here we are," said the most beautiful, a ravishing brunette wearing enough diamonds to finance a small revolution. "I must say though, Roger, I didn't expect you to answer the door. Very bad form."
"Lucky for Madam Pompadour you didn't live in the Eighteenth Century, Sarah. You would have put her out of business."
"Golly, Bev, just look at the size of this place. Sure would make a groovy cathouse," said one of the ladies, a very healthy-looking copper-haired Texan.
"Don't pay any attention to Stella, Mr. Stanton. She said the same thing the day we went through the White House," said the third member of the trio, a very small, but built, ex-Miss California Wine. Bev was a sun-bleached blonde with the big, gorgeous eyes, almost lavender in color.
Dell mixed a pitcher of martinis behind the bar. "Good evening ladies and Miss Mills."
"Why, Dell," Sarah said, "I believe I detect a note of bitchiness in your greeting."
"What do you expect after kicking me out of your whorehouse?"
Roger laughed. "Come, come, Dell, you've been kicked out of just about every place you've visited."
"Maybe, but not from a second story window."
"There seemed to be no other way to convince you that you'd strayed into the wrong bedroom."
"All I did was tell her she looked like Elizabeth Taylor."
"True. But you're one of those poor unfortunate cretins who can't talk without using his hands."
"Shit, I can remember when you were hustling for quarters around the mines over at Dixon."
"Some of us rise above our environment. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"How come I didn't see you at the big picnic? Buck sort of turned you out, didn't he? Somebody told me you didn't get into this business until he busted up with you."
Sarah's eyes seethed with fury, but she bit her tongue and remained silent.
"Say hello to the Bookends, Dell," Roger said, pouring everyone a drink.
"Hello, girls."
"Hello," they answered in unison.
"I've heard a lot about you. That's why I asked for you." Dell sucked down the entire martini and poured another one. "I'm a pretty jaded son-of-a-bitch. Think you can show me anything new?"
"We can try," Bev answered with a smile.
"When did you aim to find out?" Stella asked.
"How about now?"
With the speed of a thunderbolt, each girl grabbed one of Dell's arms and legs and tossed him onto the pool table. A school of piranha couldn't have removed his clothes any faster, and before Sarah and Roger could get out the door, Stella had sucked his cock up and Bev had plunged a greased vibrator up his ass, which tickled his prostate toward an early ejaculation.
"Funny, being here like this," Sarah said. Roger took her mink stole and she sat on the velvet spread covering the king-sized bed.
"Tell me about it?" Roger asked, sitting beside her and kissing her gently on the shoulder. "I haven't had a good laugh all day."
"I had a fantasy about making love in Gina's bed. In the dream, Buck and I would be together when she came in and-"
"Point of order. Speaking of a man when in the arms of another is considered extremely bad form."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Roger. But don't feel slighted. After all, why do you suppose I came? You know I don't make it with the customers."
"I thought it was my irresistible charms."
"Partly."
"Or my devastating good looks, exciting steel trap mind and the terribly healthy color of my money."
"Those qualities helped me make the decision, there's no doubting that." She unloosened his tie and the top buttons of his shirt.
"What was the clincher?"
She kissed his throat and playfully wound a few of his chest hairs around her beautifully manicured nails. "You're the man who, forgive the gross expression, shot Buck Riddleman out of the saddle. I can think of no finer credentials for a prospective lover." She kissed him and he immediately sucked her sensually fleshy lower lip into his mouth, something he had wanted to do for years. Her beautifully sculptured mouth had always mesmerized him; and now that he had captured it with his own, he was not disappointed. Her lip tasted like a warm, sweet, living ruby. His brain immediately fell into the dazed state usually reserved only for very young lovers.
As he sucked gently on first one lip, then the other, then her darting tongue, she lowered his zipper and drew out his cock. The pro in her came out as she touched and pressed areas that caused an immediate and intense erection. She placed the tip of her finger firmly in the crevice of his sperm duct and traced it slowly forward to the head like a bubble, and she spread it over the rubbery head and massaged gently with one hand while returning to repeat the process with the other.
His hands lacked coordination, but he managed to find the hook and zipper on the back of her strapless gown and to bring it down low enough for him to cup his hands around her succulent twin globes of flesh and free them from the binding prison of her garment.
"Oh, yes, Roger," she moaned, as she licked the corners of his mouth with lazy laps of her tongue. "Make them hard, darling." He held the delicate weight of her lovely titties on his fingers and nudged her nipples with his thumbs. They jutted forward like the hard noses of small bullets. "Oh, God, yes," she moaned, matching the tempo of her hands on his cock to that of his on her trembling breasts. "Let's get out of our clothes," she cooed softly.
Roger smiled with his eyes closed. "I ... I don't want to let go. How can we ... get undressed ... without letting go?"
"It ... takes longer ... but I think we can do it." She returned to his mouth for more deep kisses, and he drifted back into a trance. While lightly squeezing and releasing the head of his dick with one hand, she unfastened his belt with the other, pulled his shirt out of his pants, and undid the remaining buttons.
Having completed that task, she gently pushed one of his hands away from her breast, pulled his shift and jacket sleeve over that arm, replaced his hand on her bosom, then did the same thing on the other side.
After throwing these garments to the floor, she wallowed her lips over the hair on his naked chest and tip-tongued his nipples until they responded. She kissed his lips again and slowly stood up beside the bed and pushed him down on his back.
He increased the motion of his hands on her tits as she kissed her way down his torso and replaced her cock-pumping hand with her mouth. Roger's body contracted as though a bolt of electricity had passed through him the moment her lips touched his rigid member. In his mind he pictured her lips a hundred times life size. He crawled between them, hugged them with his naked body, and almost fell into her mouth but was saved that fate by her giant tongue.
Sarah sucked steadily, drawing him deep into her throat, while removing his shoes, socks, pants and shorts, and then her own clothing. The job had been completed, and not once had she broken contact with his cock, or he with her soft warm titties.
She took his cock in her hand once again, climbed over him and guided his dick into the hot furnace of her cunt. Roger's eyes flapped wide open and a guttural "OH!" erupted from his mid-section as she settled over him, stretched out upon his chest, kissed him, fondled his ears, and moved her ass slowly up and down. She had every part of his tormented tool locked tightly in the vise-like grip of her talented pussy muscles. There was not a square millimeter of his cock that did not feel the penetration, nor the tiniest nook or cranny of her creamy cunt that didn't feel that it was being penetrated.
The teacher lost her place and forgot where she was. A whiff of Gina's perfume triggered it. It was the same smell Buck had on his shoulder the night he told Sarah he was getting married.
Suddenly the whole room began to spin, and Roger instantly became Buck. She could even feel his moustache brush against her cheek, and she could hear him call her "baby" just like Clark Gable did Claudette Colbert in It Happened One Night. "Baby, I guess the thing I like about you better than anything else is the way you fuck! You've got a way of holding my cock with your pussy muscles that drives me slap out of my mind."
"Oh, I want to make it good for you. All I want is to please you, darling. To please you more than she does."
"Compared to you, Gina fucks like a poor, underfed boy. I was wrong, baby. I shouldn't have married her. Will you take me back?"
"Will I? Oh, yes, darling, yes. That's all I want to do-to have you all to myself again. To love you and suck your delicious cock. To feel it pushing deeper and deeper inside me, ramming and shooting and flooding me with your come."
"Oh, shit, baby! Get off! She's coming into the room!"
"I don't care! I want her to find us this way. I don't want to hurt her, but she must know how much we love each other. Let her find us fucking like wild animals. It will make it easier for her to let go."
"You're right, baby. You're absolutely right. Hang on, kid. Here she comes."
Sarah looked up and the sight of Gina standing there caused a mighty orgasm to wrack her cunt with the impact of an avalanche. "OH, BUCK, DARLING, I'M COMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMING! I ... I ... OHHH OHHH AHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Roger slapped her hard. "Sarah, wake up! Come out of it!"
"What ... where am ... Oh, Roger, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. It was unforgivable me dropping off that way. Did you come?"
"No, no I didn't. Please, please get off!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you hear me call Buck's name?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I did."
"I'm sorry, darling. No man could come when a woman calls him by another name."
"That's part of the reason, but there was more."
"What?"
Roger winced as he touched the back of his head and showed her his hand. It was covered with blood. "Just as I was about to get my rocks off, Gina marched in here and broke a lamp over my skull. Now, will you kindly get off me so I can get dressed and go to the hospital?"
* * *
The combined weight of Brice Douglas and the motor pushed the back of the boat dangerously close to the water line. Buck tried to counterbalance the boat by sitting as close as he possibly could to the bow, but it did little to alleviate the problem. Buck felt very much the way he did the day he was trapped on the high end of a teeter totter in the park in Fletcher Falls. He was only seven years old at the time. A man wearing sunglasses and a big black overcoat had given Buck a candy bar one hot July evening just as it was getting dark. Buck said he had to get home, but the friendly stranger talked him into getting on the teeter totter.
As soon as Buck got on his end, the man pushed him up and left him there. Buck yelled for him to let him down, and the man said he would if Buck would expose himself. Feeling absolutely no sense of outrage, since the older girls had often requested the same thing of him, Buck pulled his black bathing trunks down to his knees. The man's face lit up with glee. He jumped off the board, squealed excitedly as Buck crashed to the ground, and ran off into the darkness cackling.
"They get pretty big out here, Buck," Brice said, shutting down the motor and leveling the boat by moving to the center plank. "You use plugs?"
"Sometimes, but most of these bass seem to prefer flies."
"Wet or dry?"
"I use dry ones mostly, like this big bug here." Brice showed him a big red and yellow feathered bug.
"I've got to go to the bathroom."
"Oh, no! Buck, why didn't you go back in the cabin?"
"I didn't have to go there. I think all this water has something to do with it."
"Okay, we'll go back."
"No, no, I can go over the side."
"You can?"
"Sure. No problem." Buck unzipped his pants and pulled out a piece of hose he had cut off a douche bag. The other end was tucked inside his dancer's belt and tied inside a rubber which Buck had over his cock.
"I don't want to embarrass you, Buck, but ... do you mind if I watch?"
"Oh no, of course not. This tubing is sewn inside my bladder." Brice felt a stabbing pain in his genital region. "And since I have no control to shut it off, I use this little metal clip to pinch or release the pressure on the tube. Watch." He hung the tube over the side and released the clip. Brice leaned over and watched the urine splash against the side of his boat and fall into the water. "Oh ... oh, boy ... I needed that." Buck refastened the clip, shook the tube and replaced it in his pants.
"Seems like a pretty handy gadget you've got there," Brice said, with a nervous laugh.
"Oh, it's terrific. Very convenient at movies."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, say the movie's really exciting and I've got to pee. I don't have to leave the seat. I just lean forward like I'm caught up in the excitement of the flick and drain off in a Coke cup."
"Terrific." Brice pulled out some slack on his fly rod, made a few short casts to get the line out, then dropped the big bug right beside a rock near the bank. "You see the dry fly can be used both ways. I can let it float there and jiggle it, or I can give it a tug and pull it under like a wet one." Just as he demonstrated a six-pounder hit his line. "There he is! Oh, shit, I love to tie in to these big devils on a fly rod!"
Brice fought the valiant bass for about ten minutes before he guided him close enough to the boat for Buck to net him. Buck hadn't held a fly rod since he was a kid and he couldn't get the rhythm at first.
"Look, you throw it behind you, give it about a two count, then whip it forward, directly at the water. Right, that's better. Pull a little more line. That's it. Perfect."
On Buck's first good cast, another six-pounder broke water and swallowed the bug. There was little chance of losing him since the hook was lodged deep in his gut, but Buck gave him every chance to get away since he was overcome with excitement. He got all tangled up in the line and couldn't keep a taut line on the fish.
About a half an hour later he disregarded the rod and pulled the perplexed bass aboard, using the line as a hand line. "Take me back to the cabin, Brice."
"Why?"
"I'm too excited for this kind of thing. You know, high strung, shot nerves, a little shell shocked from the war." Brice motored Buck back to the boat landing. "You sure you don't mind if I go back?"
"No, Brice, don't be silly. It's your vacation. Go have a good time. Martha and I will find something to do to amuse ourselves."
"I don't know-I feel so guilty about leaving you like this. You sure it will be all right?"
"Look, Brice, our friendship goes back too far for us to start standing on ceremony. Believe me, this is what I want you to do. I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, go on and ... have fun!"
"Okay, I will and ... hey, thanks for being so understanding." He reached up and shook Buck's hand.
"Don't mention it."
"See you in a couple of hours." He roared off, his small fishing skiff at a forty-five degree angle with the water.
The grin, firmly established on Buck's face, didn't disappear when he entered the cabin. Martha was asleep on the small bed built into the alcove across from the fireplace. She was lying across the bed, propped up on pillows, with her feet on the floor. Her simple cotton dress was pulled up around her waist, and her fingers played in the black curly hair of her beautiful crotch. A paperback book with a blank cover was balanced on her stomach. Buck picked up the book and thumbed through it. It was a Danish import showing high quality color shots of a plethora of beautiful young people demonstrating the art of fucking and sucking.
The combined effects of the book and Martha's automatic masturbating was blowing Buck's mind and causing excruciating pain in his lower region. He quickly got out of his clothes and examined his rigid cock for friction wounds.
"Oh ... oh, yes ... now, darling, now," Martha moaned. Buck thought she had awakened, but soon realized that she was merely responding to a very intense dream.
He put a pillow on the floor and knelt between Martha's legs, extending out over the bed. He spat in his hand and worked the saliva over the head of his dick. His first thought was to lubricate himself so he wouldn't hurt Martha, but he quickly discovered there was much pleasure in the application of the lubricant. To watch a woman give herself a hand job, Buck deduced, was a very stimulating pastime. Especially when the woman wasn't aware that you were watching her.
"Yes, darling, deeper. Give me more. Harder. Fuck me harder!"
Being service-oriented by nature, Buck decided to forego his own pleasure and tend to the lady in distress. It had been a very frustrating couple of days for Martha. She enjoyed Buck's company, but was constantly reminded of their balling sessions of the past. Her nights had been moody, nervous hours of horny frustration. Now, she was getting both-sleep and sex.
Buck gently opened the lips of her flowing cunt with his thumbs and steered his cock inside her. The walls of her pussy felt like hot velvet against his excited tool, and beads of sweat burst out on his forehead.
He fucked her very slowly, trying to see how far he could go before she woke up. Her lush thighs came up around his waist and she locked her feet together above his buttocks and pulled him against her in rhythm with his humping motion.
After unbuttoning the front of her dress and pushing it aside, Buck manipulated her perspiring breasts. They were large and a little floppy-the kind that drive their owners crazy because they think they are ugly, and drive the men who touch them crazy because they think they are superb. She broke into a broad grin. "Don't stop. That feels so wonderful."
Buck kissed her very tenderly; she sighed and opened her eyes. "Oh, yes, Buck, yes." Her eyelids floated shut again and she put her arms around his back. "What a dream, what a dream." There was the lilt of music as she continued talking to herself. "It's so niiiiice here. It ... seems ... so ... real."
Buck hit it! He rammed his cock all the way to the limits of her, and she squealed. Then he sucked one of her nipples between his teeth and squeezed the other with his thumb and forefinger. She woke up for good this time. "What ... Buck ... is that really you?"
He hit it again. His bone banged in and out of her with lightning thrusts, and he screamed as he climaxed, flooding her surprised pussy with a hot gush of semen.
Her eyes got as big as steak platters. "What kind of ... FUCKING DREAM IS THIIIIIIIIIS? Oh, OH, AWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
Her arms and legs went crazy. She scratched his back and bit his shoulder, drawing blood. "Just one ... just one ... just one MOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRe!" Every muscle in her body contracted, then went totally limp.
Buck pulled out, then fell onto his back on the floor. "Oh ... oh, my God. I thought I ... was coming unglued there for a minute!"
"And all the king's horses and all the king's men somehow put Bucky together again. Whew! All I can say is, boy, what a way to wake up!"
"You all right?" Buck asked, getting back up on his knees and crawling back to her. He pushed himself up onto the bed and held her in his arms.
"Me? Yeah, I think so. My head seems to still be in place. I don't know about the rest of me-I'm afraid to look."
"I just did, and I'm happy to report that you are just fine. Beautifully intact and gorgeous as ever."
"You know something? You fuck pretty good for a eunuch."
"Shhh. My little secret. You wouldn't be telling big Brice about it, now would you?" He gave her a playful peck on the cheek.
"What, and kill the goose that gives the golden lays? I may not be the brightest woman in the world, but I'm not stupid." She reached down and cupped her hands around his balls and pushed back the curtain at the same time. "Look, you can see Brice on the other side of the lake. He's happy, I'm happy, and I think you're happy." Buck's cock began to rise as though to belie any doubts she might have. She laughed. "He's happy."
Martha bent over and took his cock into her mouth. Her hair was soft and jet black. It tickled and excited the insides of his thighs. He pushed her back on the bed and twisted her torso around so he could reach her pussy with his mouth. They had no idea how long they were together in that position; but when they heard the boat motor, they both had long juicy orgasms and got dressed.
* * *
For the next three days, Buck and Martha continued their joyous sexual activities during the day; and when Brice joined them, they had drinks, gourmet meals (as only Brice could prepare them), more drinks, singing by the fireplace, gossip concerning who was screwing who in Fletcher Falls, and more drinks followed by deep uninterrupted, nightmare-free sleep. It was the way vacations should be, with fun being had by all.
"Hey, you're pretty good at that," Buck said to Brice, concerning his fish-cleaning ability.
"I should be. Butchered for my old man for twenty years."
"Is that thing as sharp as it looks?"
"See for yourself," Brice answered, holding up the machete-sized knife for Buck's inspection.
"Wow! Like a razor," Buck said, lightly touching the edge of the awesome-looking blade. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
"How about bringing in some wood for the fire?"
Buck bowed. "Anything you say, master." He opened the door and took a couple of steps out onto the patio.
Brice heard a couple of cracking sounds that seemed to come from the hill next to the cabin. He wiped off his hands and walked to the door. Buck was sprawled out on the concrete floor face down. Blood trickled down his temple and formed a small pool under his nose. Brice froze in his tracks. "Martha, look. He ... he ... he ... "
Martha put down the book she was reading and went to her husband. "For God's sake, Brice, speak up. Don't just stand there stammering like a ... Oh, my God! He's been shot!"
"We better see ... if he's ... you know." Brice started to walk out.
"No, wait! Stay in here for a minute. Let's see if anybody comes!"
With great care, Manny Ross worked his way toward the cabin. He was a huge man, well over six feet tall, with the broad powerful build of a lumberjack. He put his arm through the rifle strap, swung it across his back, and drew his pistol when he got to the patio. He kicked Buck over onto his back to see if he were playing possum; and when he saw no signs of life in his victim, he cautiously stepped through the open door.
Martha sat on the hearth, shaking like a leaf. "Who ... who are you?"
"Hello, there, ma'am," Manny said, grinning as he tipped his hat to the lady. "Where's your old man?"
"He's ... he's out fishing."
"Suuuuure, he is. And I'm a blind man, right? Heh, heh, heh! I've been watchin' you three all day from the next hill. Or I should say the two of you before Fatso showed up. You all have a real nice time down here, don't you? I wuz really enjoyin' watchin' you through my bi-nocs. Heh, heh, heh! You sure do know how to -"
"What do you want?"
"Nothin' much. Jist your life. That's not askin' too much, now is it? Heh, heh. Now I wonder where I'd try to hide if I wuz the fattest slob in the world. Let's see, there's the bathroom and the bedroom and that draped closet over yonder. Let's start with the bathroom." Manny fired two shots through the bathroom door. The silenced pistol made sickening thumps as it recoiled in his hand. They heard the sound of something falling in the bathroom. It made a loud thud. "Well, what do you know? Got lucky."
Martha screamed and burst into tears. "Who are you? Why do you want to kill us?"
"I don't want to-it's not my idea. Heh, heh. See there, I've started our hopefully pleasant relationship with a lie. I do want to kill you. True, it's my job, but I enjoy it. Really I do. Very much."
"Look, whatever they offered to pay you, I'll double it. I don't want to die."
"And I don't double cross my clients." He raised the gun and pointed it at her head. "Sorry I have to shoot and run, but it's getting late."
Martha tore open the top of her dress, exposing her breasts. "Look, I have nice tits, don't I?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am, you certainly do." Manny lowered his gun and moved closer for a better view.
"Wouldn't you like to touch them?"
Manny scratched his head and moved in front of the curtained closet. Brice stepped out behind him, raised the huge butcher knife over his head, then froze in that position like a boy being confronted with his first deer. Brice had buck fever at the worst possible time in his life.
"I think that would be real nice, playin' with those lovely titties, but I can do that jist as well when you're dead, now can't I?" He smiled and raised his weapon again.
"But ... but there are some things you can't do with me after I'm dead!"
"Like what, ma'am?" Manny stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, getting a perfect aim right between her eyes.
"Like ... like fucking! You can't very well do that if I'm dead!"
Manny didn't lower his gun. "Don't be too sure about that, ma'am. Look, would you mind holdin' still? It's kinda hard keepin' that purty nose of yours right on the edge of my sight." Brice looked like a statue. He didn't even seem to be breathing.
Martha closed her eyes and conjured up some false confidence. She tore off the other buttons and threw her dress to the floor. "All right, big fella, how about a nice blow job? My friends tell me I give the best head in the state. Just let me get that fat cock of yours in my mouth for ten seconds, and you'll forget all about killing."
"That's a very interestin' proposition, ma'am, but somehow the idea of you goin' down on me jist now seems somewhat dangerous to me. Heh, heh, heh. You look like a bitter."
"OKAY THEN, YOU YELLOW COCKSUCKER, GO AHEAD AND SHOOT!"
"As you wish, ma'am. Say hello to your fat husband if you see-"
Brice waved the knife once, the way a baseball player will wave the bat just as a pitch is thrown, and swung the blade into Manny's neck. The young Goliath's head crashed to the hardwood floor like a bowling ball, bounced once, then rolled under the coffee table. Manny's body shot to attention, teetered one way, tottered the other, then toppled back against Brice like a felled oak tree.
"Noooooooooo!" Brice screamed, trying to extricate himself from under Manny's torso. "Get away! Get away from me!" He pushed and struggled to work himself free, but all his strength had been expended in the act of killing the intruder. His face turned an ashen gray and he passed out.
Martha had closed her eyes the moment Brice swung. Blindly she groped across the room, fell prone onto the couch and sobbed lightly. After a few moments of self-pity she ventured a peek to see if her husband was all right. From her position on the couch, her first glance was in the direction of the coffee table; and seeing the frozen face of death, she tried to scream, let out only a slight peep, and fainted.
About thirty minutes later Buck came to. He staggered into the cabin, holding his right temple. The blood from the finger-long gash along the side of his head had already begun to coagulate. His mind cleared much faster than it would have done had bodies not been strewn all over the room. He checked his friends' pulses and heartbeats, then to the bathroom in search of smelling salts. He noticed the bullet holes in the door and was then confronted by a very curious thing: the long string of Brice's three-day catch, which Buck had so carefully tied across the length of the tub from the towel rack to the shower head, had broken loose. The entire eighty-pound batch of fish had fallen into the tub.
Buck took the loose end of the string. It was frayed. He scratched his head and looked back at the door. One of the bullet holes was in a direct line with the shower head.
CHAPTER TEN
The phone rang seventeen times before Laurie knocked over the lamp and answered it. "What?"
"Hi, baby. What's happening?"
"Buck? Where the hell are you?"
Buck looked at Maria's sleeping form and tried to unclasp her grip around his waist, but couldn't. "I'm in a motel a few minutes from Fletcher Falls. Anybody call?"
"I'll say."
"Who?"
"It would be easier to list those who didn't. Your mother just heard the news about what happened at Lake Archer. She thinks you're dead and can't stop crying."
"Who else?"
"A girl named Maria. She said she wanted you to-"
"I got that message."
"Then a man named Robinson came by. He had a gun and when he didn't find you, he started cussing a blue streak and drove his car into the tree out front. Oh, yes, Roger Stanton called about a dozen times and your ex-wife about fifteen. They're no longer living together it seems. She wants you back, and Roger said he wanted to get in my britches. He said he saw me at the picnic and couldn't get me out of his mind. That's just so much bullshit. He really wants to come stay here a few days. Why would he want to do that?"
"Search me. I've seen Roger do some pretty strange things. Probably wants to put on your underwear and dance around the house. Look, don't let anybody know I'm in town. I'm in big trouble and I've got to stay out of sight. Put Leo on."
"He's not here."
"Then go find him. I've got a very important job for him. It's a matter of life and death, tell him."
"Buck, he's gone. He's in Georgia in basic training. He and Andy got married yesterday and off they went."
"Huh? Married?"
Laurie laughed and squinted at the clock. It was four in the morning. "Yeah, Andrea said she was going to land him and she did. I'd take my hat off to her, but she got married in it."
"Andrea?"
"Yes, Andrea-Andy. You know, the great blow job."
"Oh, sure. Shit, that's terrible. I don't mean it's terrible that Andy's a girl or they're married, I mean it's terrible that he's gone. I need him. Desperately."
"Won't I do?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"Don't you trust me?"
"Yeah, but ... no. No, I don't. This is too important."
"I don't care what it is. I promise I'll do it and I'll do it well."
"That's a dumb thing to say! You could get in big trouble if you get caught!"
"I don't care. You know how I feel about you. Let me help. Please!"
There was a long pause. "Okay, I really don't have any choice. Call Roger. Tell him you've changed your mind and you want to make it with him. Be convincing. Tell him the door will be open. Just to walk in and hop in bed with you."
Laurie began to sniffle. "All right. If that's what you want, that's what I'll do." She was fighting to hold back the tears.
"Then as soon as you hang up, drive over here. I'm at the Trail End Motel, room 216. Got that?"
Her voice perked up. "Do I? You mean I don't have to sleep with him?"
"No."
"Oh, that's great! Sure I'll do it, and don't worry about Roger. I'll get him so steamed up over the phone, he'll be creaming all the way over here. Anything else?"
"Uh, yeah ... there is one other thing. I want you to bring something with you when you come."
"Sure, what?"
"You sure you don't mind?"
"Of course not, darling. What is it?"
"Take the crowbar and break the lock off the freezer, and ... "
"Yeah?"
"And, uh, bring me what you find inside."
"What is it?"
Another pause. "Well, uh, it's a ... Laurie, it's kind of hard to describe."
"Come on, sweetheart, don't play games with me. What is it?"
"It's a man. Or more specifically, the corpse of a man. I'll see you in about a half an hour. Bye, dear." He hung up before she could speak.
Laurie laughed and jiggled the hook switch, clearing the line so she could call Roger. Her laugh stopped half way through the dial and she hung up. "Noooo, that's silly." She dialed again.
"Hello?" Roger said, barely awake.
"Hi, lover."
"Who's this?"
"Well, just how many lovers do you have, stud?"
"Look, who the hell is this?!"
"Just one of your fans. A little girl with a hot juicy cunt just dying to wrap herself around that big cock you've told me so much about."
"Laurie?"
"How long are you going to leave me here playing with myself?"
"Give me twenty minutes."
"Okay, cocksman, but if you're not here by then, I'll start without you. The door's open. Just pull off your clothes and jump in bed with me. I can't wait to see your action." She hung up and slipped into a dress and sandals.
She ran out the back door, stopped, went back in and turned on the porch light. She found the crowbar and quickly snapped off the lock, slowly leaned over and peeked inside. Rafe looked like a Santa Claus elf who had played too long in the snow. Laurie quickly shut the lid, then looked again. "Wow, little man, what the fuck are you doing in there?"
* * *
Maria didn't want to wake up, so Buck poured ice water on her neck. "Wha ... no ... don't!" she shouted and shot straight up in bed.
"Morning, sunshine."
"Morning, hell, it's still dark out there!"
"I've got work for you, my love."
She collapsed back on the pillow, but Buck brought her to attention again by waving the pitcher over her. "What ... what work?"
"I want you to fuck a Congressman for me."
"Literally or figuratively?"
"Both."
"At this hour?"
"Yes; get dressed."
"You're not kidding, are you?" She touched her eye and winced. It was black and blue and swollen shut.
"Nope. You said you wanted to fix your old man for beating you up. I've arranged it for you."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Go to my house, get in my bed, call your father and tell him where you are. He said he wanted to kill the son of a bitch that knocked you up. Let's see the size of his balls."
"And Roger Stanton will come get in bed with me, right?"
"That's right."
"And this is what everything's led up to-everything between you and me?"
"Yes."
She put her arms around him. "Can I see you when it's over?"
"No."
She tried to smile but it didn't quite make it. "That's pretty cold. You mean, never?"
"Never's a long time.'
Maria's eyes filled with tears. "And that ... and that, girls, is what is referred to as the small glimmer of hope." She dressed in silence and stood by the open door. "Do I get a nice big sloppy kiss goodbye and a slap on the fanny?"
"Of course." Buck went to her and kissed her.
Maria held the kiss as long as she could, then tore her mouth away from his and held him tightly. A few seconds went by; she broke the embrace, pushed away from him, and managed a small laugh. "Who knows, I might get lucky. At another place, in another time, I might run into you again, Buck Riddleman. Sometime ... when you're not mad at anybody." She lingered for another moment. "Where ... where's my slap?"
Buck popped her on the rear with the palm of his hand and she was gone. He lit a cigarette and watched her burn rubber going out onto the highway.
Minutes later Laurie drove up in Buck's convertible and he raced out to meet her. "Hey, baby, everything go all right?"
"Yes, but when you said that about the, uh ... "
"Did you talk Stanton into coming?"
"Yes, but the other thing ... the freezer ... inside ... "
"Where is it?"
"In the trunk, but that kind of thing is ... how did he get ... you didn't, did you?"
"No." Buck helped her out of the car. "Go inside, baby. I'll see you in a couple of hours." He jumped behind the wheel and drove off.
Less than an hour later Buck pulled up in front of the Stanton mansion and ran to the door. Franklyn let him in and led him to the game room. Gina was sitting at the bar crying into a gin and tonic. She ran to greet him and tripped over the foot of a stuffed grizzly bear. Buck picked her up and carried her to a sofa.
"Oh, Buck, you should have been here," she wept, refusing to let go of his neck. "I walked in and there they were-the two of them-just going away at it! Right in my very own bed!"
"Going away at what?"
"Each other-they were ... making loooooove!" Her loud bawl set off a ringing in Buck's ear. "Who?"
"Roger and ... that whore, Sarah Mills."
"I never heard of her."
"Well, I wish I never had. Why didn't I stay at the concert? It's all Wagner's fault. Those damn Russians write such loud music, it's a miracle anybody can sit through a whole concert. Oh, if he comes crawling back to me, I swear I'll shoot him with his own elephant gun!"
"Wagner?"
"No! What's his name? Roger, the goddamned lecher."
Buck finally freed himself and walked around the room turning out lights. "What are you drinking?"
"Gin and tonic. Hey, it's getting dark in here!"
"I don't want anyone to see us together. It might affect your settlement."
"Good thinking."
Buck went to the bar and poured Gina a double shot, knowing it would put her out, and came back to the couch. "Here, drink this. It'll let you sleep."
"I've tried to sleep for days. Maybe if you gave me a good massage like you used to." She pulled open her dressing gown and wiggled out of it.
Moonlight poured across the room and splashed over Gina's ripe tits. Buck never tired of looking at her, and though he had a lot of work ahead of him, he couldn't keep his hands from touching her magnificent body.
He rubbed her breasts, then her belly, then lower. He got on his knees and lapped at her nipples as he buried two fingers into her waiting snatch. "Oh, yes, darling, I've missed your massages. Now that I'm divorcing Roger, you must promise to come by often and ... Oh, my God, yes, Buck! ... deeper, my love ... wind ... your fingers ... around and around!"
Buck started to sweat and his tie seemed to be choking him. He flipped it open and threw off his coat, then quickly placed his hand back on her hot silken pussy and plunged his fingers inside.
Gina unbuttoned his shirt, pulled herself up, and kissed his ribs and stomach. "Oh, my God, my God, what have they done to your beautiful body? How could God have let them rip you apart like that? You have no idea how much I want you!"
"There's a first time for everything."
"But I do. Oh, how I wish your cock could somehow come back to you. It was so beautiful. I know I never told you before, but you had the loveliest cock I've ever seen."
"From such a large sample as that, I'm flattered."
"Eat me, darling, please eat me," she moaned, leaning back on the couch.
Buck moved between her legs, lowered his mouth directly onto the entrance to her cunt and sucked out as much juice as he could manage. He thanked God he had not worn the binding belt that night and unfastened his trousers to free his aching cock. It sprung from his fly like the long-necked head of a suffocating goose.
"That's it, darling. Plunge your tongue in deep, my sweet. Deeper into my hot cunt! Oh, yes, lick my ass and my clitORIS! OHHHHHHH! AGAIN, BUCK! DO IT AGAIN!"
"Gina?"
"WHAT?"
"Do you still like surprises?"
"Oh, yes, darling!"
"May I give you one?"
"Certainly, sweetheart, only KEEP EATING! DON'T STOP EATING!" Buck sat up. "Oh, don't stop," she pouted. "Go back down. Please go back down!" She tried to force his head to her loins, but he didn't budge.
"In a minute. First, I want to give you your surprise." He held his cock near her head but out of her sight. "Open your mouth and close your eyes."
"Oh, all right," Gina said, with a sigh of frustration. "But this better be a good one."
* * *
Roger didn't know he was fucking Maria until Dell slipped on the bedroom light.
"All right, Buck," Dell shouted, "turn around and take your medicine!" He wore a mad grin until the man in the bed showed his face. "You! You dirty cocksucker!"
"Take it easy, Dell! I didn't know it was her. I thought-"
"Good! Good thinking! Tell stupid old Dell it was a case of mistaken identity! He's such a fucking moron, he'll believe anything!"
Roger got out of bed and started toward him. That was a big mistake. His dick was still hard and Dell cracked him a good lick across the pecker with his weapon. Roger screamed and fell back on the floor. He felt something hard under his naked ass and glanced down. He was sitting on his coat, and his gun was goosing him.
"You no-good, dicklickin' son of a bitch! That story about Maria and Rafe. You made that up to cover your own tracks, and I fell for it. To think that I've been kissing your ass all these years."
"Put it down, Dell. Put it down. We can talk it out."
"Some other time, turdface! Right now, I'm gonna glow your fuckin' brains right out the back of your head!"
Roger's hand flashed under him and it came up firing. His first shot missed completely, but the next two passed through Dell's massive chest and out his back.
Dell got off one shot that hit Roger in the shoulder before he slumped over onto the bed. His eyes looked as though they were going to pop out of his head and he held on to the last thread of life with all his might so that he might say something to his daughter. "You ... you're ... an ... evil bitch!"
"I know, Poppa," she said, with no emotion. "I've known that for a long time. You see, I had a good teacher."
Dell looked back at Roger and fell dead across Maria's legs.
* * *
Lieutenant Sprague was one of Roger's first visitors when he woke up the next morning at Fletcher Falls Memorial Hospital. He had flowers and a box of candy for his injured friend. "How are you feeling, old man?"
"Pretty shaky, old man. They give you enough dope around here to make you sick at your stomach but not enough to make you high."
"Need anything?"
"Yes. Better-looking nurses. What's on your mind?"
"Nothing much. Doc Harper says we can move you over to the jail this afternoon."
"Aw, come on. You can't book me for killing Robinson."
"Who said we were?"
"Somebody saw me spitting on the sidewalk?"
"Your house almost burned down last night. Small fire on the second floor. The firemen got there in time to prevent much damage, but they ... well, they checked the attic."
"And?"
"They found him."
"Who?"
"Roger, this is me. You know who. Rafe."
"And just what was he doing in my attic?"
"Hanging there, the way you left him. With his hands tied behind his back."
"That's ridiculous. Rafe's been dead for weeks and I didn't do it."
"That's not what the coroner said. The body hadn't decayed at all. He fixed the time of death sometime during the past twenty-four hours."
"That's impossible!"
"Why such a sloppy job? And a bum like Rafe! You should've come to me about it."
"Harry. I'll pay you a hundred thousand dollars to kill Buck Riddleman."
"Thanks, but no thanks. Bums, yes. War heroes, no. That's like shooting the President of the United States." He got up. "Well, I gotta go now. See you in a couple of hours for the transfer."
Roger was in deep concentration. "I'll be here. By the way, why the candy and flowers?"
"For old time's sake," Harry answered, with a shrug. "And who knows, you might even beat the rap. I wouldn't want to be on your bad side, if you know what I mean."
* * *
Buck looked out of the big bay window in Gina's bedroom and saw a cab pull up in front of the house. "Zeke's here."
"Well, he'll just have to wait. I haven't even begun to pack."
"How long will it take to get to Rio?"
"Just a few hours. I can't wait. I'll introduce you to all the right people. The Morrisons from Boston. The Handys from Chicago. You'll just love them all, Buck. They're all top drawer people."
"That's marvelous."
"Then it's off to Paris for more parties. Oh, where are those other lashes? You don't know how exciting life can be when you travel in the right circles."
"And dine with the right people and eat with the right fork."
"Oh, you know what I mean. Then it's on to Cannes, if we don't have to come back for Roger's trial, and loafing about Bill Lyons' yacht. You'll just love him. He does the best card tricks."
"Applause, applause. Look, I'll be right back. I'm going to tell Zeke we'll be awhile."
"Let him wait. All he wants is his money. Why waste your time talking to him? I'm going to have to break you of your bad habits of talking to the wrong people. I can see that right now."
"I'll be right back." Buck sprinted downstairs and jumped into the cab.
"Hi, Buck. I understand you and the missus are flying down to Rio."
"We were, but I changed my mind. Take me home, Zeke."
Zeke didn't react at all as he started his engine and drove out of the half-mile drive. Buck thought about Laurie. She had told him she wouldn't leave until after his plane had taken off.
"Yep, I think the Pirates might sneak into the pennant this year, Buck. What do you think?"
"I don't know, Zeke. The whole world's gone so crazy these days, nothing would surprise me."
