Each morning just before awakening, Billy Black looked more like a corpse than a living man. Every square inch of his sun-scorched and weather-beaten skin, sorely lacking circulation while he was in a dormant state, took on the ghastly hue of hand-tooled purple leather. He didn't actually sleep at all: he hibernated. His heartbeat, pulse and breathing were almost imperceptible and his body temperature was reptilian.
One of his paramours, trying to arouse him sexually one morning, shrieked upon touching his sleeping serpent and Billy responded by kicking her down a flight of stairs. He liked to wake up slowly.
On this particular morning his long-lashed coffin lids creaked open, revealing two badly bloodshot orbs, reposing in pain under heavily thatched salt-and-pepper brows. The deeply etched lines in his face grew deeper when his eyes began to ache' from the harsh sunlight, and he slammed them shut. His long, greying dark hair looked as though someone had poured eggs and flour into it and beaten it to peaks with an electric mixer.
The girl lying next to him touched him on the arm. He squinted out of one eye in her direction. To his knowledge he had never seen her before.
"You're cold, lover," she said, rubbing his shoulder.
He opened his other eye and glanced over the rich curves of her plump young body and down to the thatch of red hair between her legs. Her identity still remained a mystery.
"I know how to take care of that little problem," she said, batting her big brown eyes and rolling over on top of him.
She's pretty, he thought, liking the texture of her skin and the warmth of her smile. Her full breasts had the feel of growing rubber on his chest-that resilience found only in young flesh. She leaned up to kiss him.
"Don't ... don't do that."
"Why?"
"Because your mouth smells like a dirty diaper."
Her jaw dropped a full three inches. "That's a terrible thing to say." Her face froze in a pout.
They stared at each other for a full minute. "You can eat me if you want to," he said, breaking the silence. "That doesn't bother me, no matter how bad your breath is."
Infuriated, she bridged herself away from him. "Why, you egotistical pervert!"
He smiled. "It is a good idea though, isn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess it is," she said, returning his smile and nibbling at the hair on his chest. Moving her wet lips down his stomach and over his navel, she stuck out her tongue, captured his cock and drew it into her mouth with the lightning-quick deftness of a frog snaring an insect in flight.
Touching his balls with both hands, she worked her mouth over the ample but limber organ. Frustrated because she could not bring it to life, she created more suction and worked harder. "Come on. What's the matter?"
"I'm controlling it with my mind," he said, smiling smugly with his hands cupped behind his head to improve his view of the proceedings.
"You can't do that." She rested her head against his knee. "No man can do that."
"Really? Watch." His brow furrowed in concentration, and his lifeless member began to raise its droopy head and grow tall and straight.
"My gracious!" she gasped. "I've never seen anything like that. Are you through?"
"Not quite," he replied, the strain of his efforts being transmitted in his voice, and the size of his rod increasing steadily.
"Wow, just look at that! It's like watching time-lapse photography. Up, up and away! like a blooming flower. That's got to be the end," she said, watching his cock grow to a full eight and a half inches, with the circumference of a small bracelet.
"That's it."
"How did you do it?"
"And they shall have dominion over the birds in the sky and the fish in the sea and ... "
"Silly," she giggled, returning to work.
Who the hell is she? he thought. Having given up trying to recognize her, he intently watched her lovely head bobbing up and down over him, hoping to discover a telltale sign in her technique.
"Who the hell are you?"
Without breaking her rhythm she reached into her purse near the bed and fished out a card. It read:
STUDLEY HUNGWELL Appreciative Ladies Entertained Nightly VI 2-8149 Bring Groceries
Billy Black chuckled, remembering that he had had these cards printed and had circulated a hundred of them at a Hollywood party over a year before to win a bet with a friend, who wagered no one would respond. Slowly, one by one, some worn and tattered from circulation, they were all finding their way back to him.
The young lady, working feverishly over his lower extremities, began to perspire; and Billy, feeling what to him was a pang of intense compassion, screamed Go! in his mind; and a rivulet of hot semen rushed into the surprised but delighted young woman's hungry mouth.
"Well, you may be able to make it go up," she said, licking her lips and looking quite pleased with herself, "but it still takes a well-trained mouth and pair of experienced hands to finish the job."
He yawned. "Anything you say, kid. Did I give you this card at the party?"
"Oh, no. My mother never lets me go to those parties. She says all sorts of terrible things happen at them. You know how it is; everybody gets drunk, and if a woman is having fun just talking to some guy, her old man gets all bent out of shape and wants to break his nose."
"Then where did you get it?"
"Remember Mrs. Thompson? Black hair, tall, pretty. A little mole right here," she pointed to her cheek. "Husband's a television director. She came over about six months ago."
"Wait, does she sing a lot?"
"Yeah."
"That's right, Thompson. Fantastic fuck; unbelievably bad voice."
"That's Mom."
"I see. Well ... uh ... how is she?"
"Oh, fine. She sends her love. I was about to run off to Mexico with this teenager I had hot pants for, and she thought I might forget all about him after a session with you.
"Have you?"
"What?"
"Forgotten him?"
She kissed him on the ribs and chest. "Forgotten who?" She kissed his mouth and tried, but failed, to force her tongue through his clenched teeth.
"Brush your teeth and fix breakfast. Did you bring food?"
"No."
"There's a grocery store just around the corner in Hamburger Square."
"Yes, master," she said, wiggling into her dress and sandals and racing for the door.
"Wait. You don't know what I want."
She curtsied. "What, pray tell, wilt thou have, sire?"
"A slab of ham, hash browns, and four eggs, basted gently."
"Got it. Hey, how old are you?"
"Thirty-five," he said, lying by ten years. "And you?"
"Twenty," she answered, missing the mark by three. "I was all wrong about older men. You were completely out of it when I came in last night, and still you were better than all my previous simple-minded seducers rolled up into one."
"Thank you for saying so."
"Don't mention it." She left.
His bones creaked as Billy slipped into his bathing suit and walked out onto the balcony off the bedroom. The white sand below and the ocean beyond reflected the noonday sun like an infinite mirror. He focused his telescope on the huge fishing pier under construction a hundred yards down the beach.
"Filthy motherfuckers," he mumbled. "You're not going to ruin my town and my beach. I'll kill every goddamned one of you if I have to."
Dick Horton stood up in his white Fiat convertible and stepped out without opening the door. Standing almost seven feet tall, he made the car look like a toy. Dolly, his wife, looked like another kind of toy as she sat behind the wheel and blew inside the V-neck of her flimsy summer shell onto large, perfectly formed, perspiring breasts. Her hair was blonde and up. Her slacks were white silk and clung to her lovely legs like wet paint.
The clothes were new: a gift of apology from her husband, who, misunderstanding her intentions (so she had led him to believe once the incident was over), had broken the jaw of the man he had found sleeping in his bed a few weeks before in Dallas. When the lights came on, Dick had realized that his victim was Buck Johnson, owner of the Dallas Drillers, the pro basketball team for which Dick was trying out.
Dolly's tits were new, too: silicone gifts from the very same Buck Johnson, who, understanding her intentions perfectly, did a little drilling of his own into the deep hot recesses of Dolly's hungry pussy during practice sessions.
Explaining to Dick's satisfaction that Buck was simply sleeping off an all-night poker game, Dolly had tried to undo the damage; but it was too late. Dolly had made the team, but Dick was cut from the roster, and they left Big D to try their luck in Los Angeles.
"Honey, are you sure this is the place?" Dick asked, squinting at the address on the grocery store window.
"That's what the paper said." She got out of the car and pulled at her slacks which had ridden up into the crevices of her crotch. "Go on in. I need a drink."
Just as Dick ducked under the rotting door frame of the store, he collided with Billy Black's teen-age house guest.
"Thank you ... I mean, excuse me," she said, moving her head back from the area of his navel and looking up at him. She blushed, her face turning almost the shade of her hair.
"You're welcome. It was my pleasure." He bent down and helped her pick up the groceries. His cheek brushed against hers and she smiled, excited by his touch.
"You're very tall, aren't you?"
"Oh, no. I just have exceptionally good posture."
"Well ... bye." She darted past him and disappeared around the corner.
"Nice," Dick said, watching her bounce out of sight.
"Spunky little cunt, ain't she?" The Walter Brennan-like voice came from behind a counter piled high with cans and boxes, which looked as though they had stood there since the turn of the century.
"That's one way of putting it, I suppose," Dick answered, moving to see if the man looked as much like the actor as he sounded. He did.
"We git a lot of 'em down here. Rich kids mostly. All they're lookin' fer is pot and big dicks."
"Was she stoned?"
"Naw, jist well fucked. She's sleepin' over at Billy Black's. Had to tell me all about it. Gettin' fucked ain't kicky enough fer these youngsters. They gotta tell everbody about it-even perfect strangers, like me. But if you got notions about her, fergit it. Billy Black don't share his pussy with nobody."
"And just who is Billy Black?"
"Among other things, he's our greeter."
Dick remembered a long-bearded old man he and Dolly had seen waving at all the passing traffic earlier that morning. "You mean like that old guy down in Laguna
Beach?"
"Sorta. Only Billy Black lays in his hammock out there on the speedway, wearin' his Fuck-the-Establishment T-shirt, and instead of wavin', he gives everbody the finger." The old man laughed so hard that the orange crate he was sitting on gave way, and he disappeared behind the counter.
"I understand you have an apartment for rent."
"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," said the old man, pulling himself up off the floor.
"Well, maybe I'm interested and maybe I'm not. Why don't we take a look?"
"What kinda job you got?"
"I've got a tryout with the Lakers."
"But you ain't exactly workin' yet."
"No. However, my wife's a cocktail waitress, and she makes good money."
"But she ain't exactly workin' yet, either."
"No."
"Okay, follow me."
Dick followed the old man out of the back door. It opened up on a courtyard surrounded by seven apartments contained within an old Spanish-style two-story building. The stucco was badly chipped, and the red tile roof needed to be completely replaced.
"What do you want, an upper or a lower?"
"What's the difference?"
"Well, the uppers are bigger but the roof leaks. It don't rain that often, but when it does you gotta be a pretty good swimmer if you take one of them."
"Let's see one on the ground floor."
The old man opened the nearest door and a heavy urine stench hit them. Dick grabbed his nose and looked inside. The furniture was old broken pieces of junk. There was garbage on the floor, and the walls were covered with a greasy muck.
"Good God, who's been living in there, a bunch of animals?"
"You could call 'em that, I guess. Seven hippies shared this room until a couple of days ago. Don't pay any attention to the smell. We can hose her out and spray a little deodorant around." Dick gagged, then tightened his throat muscles to hold back his lunch. "It's only $175 a month. It's a steal, being the summer and all."
"No, it won't do. Dolly wouldn't spend five minutes in there."
"The wife?"
"Yeah, we've been drivin' up and down the beach for three days. It's hopeless. Santa Monica, Manhattan Beach, Redondo, Hermosa-everything's full. People are swarming all over the place. This is the only relatively quiet place we've found."
"That's because of all the crime and dope down here. So-called decent people don't want any part of it. But that will all change soon. They're buildin' a new Marina behind us and a multi-million dollar fishin' pier over there. There's even talk of rebuildin' the canals. Big money people like Hughes own most of the land. They'll make Venus a showplace again, like it was in the thirties when I came here."
"Is that what they call this place: Venus?"
"Yeah, California, you know?"
"Yeah, I know. What's your name?"
"Oh, I got a name, but I haven't used it in years. Don't like it. Everybody calls me Fingers. See?" The old man showed him his right hand. All of the fingers were missing. "Oh, I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed."
"It don't bother me. My Pappy was a Bible-thumpin' preacher back in Oklahoma. He cut off a finger ever'time he caught me beatin' my meat."
"That's the cruelest thing I've ever heard."
Fingers smiled through empty gums. "Yeah, I guess it was kinda strong. He didn't mean no harm. Thought God told him to do it. Maybe He did, I don't know. Anyway, I left the night he cut off my thumb. Didn't mind switchin' to a southpaw, but never could get the hang of it with my feet. Tell you what, go get your old lady and I'll show you Number Three."
"No thanks, Fingers, but I don't think she'll be interested."
"It's a very nice place, and I'm real fussy about who I rent it to."
"Well, show it to me."
"Nope, can't do that. Ever hear of Fair Housing? If you wanted the place and I didn't want you to have it, you could have me thrown in jail. You could tell 'em I was prejudiced because you were tall."
"Okay, I'll get her."
"She ain't colored, is she?"
"No."
"That's good. You see, I'm a bigot. I tried like hell not to be, but ... well, like religion, it jist never took."
It was cool and dark in the Sandpiper, the bar next door to Fingers' store. It was right on the beach, and the ocean breeze was cool at any hour of the day. Two strikingly handsome Greek brothers, John and Nick Mykonos, owned and operated the place. These athletic, personable, dark, wavy-haired young men were identical twins. Nick liked girls, and John liked boys. Theirs was the only business in town which showed a substantial profit at the end of the year.
Dolly mounted one of the bar stools and breathed a sigh of relief in the cool atmosphere. Her ass, a nearly perfect sphere of sensuousness, felt good as she lifted first one cheek then the other onto the deep cushion of the stool. All the tension and rigors of solo driving for the past few days left her.
"What can I do for you?" asked Nick, smiling through perfect white teeth, which immediately suggested an invitation to cunnilingus.
"Scotch, rocks, soda top, hurry."
Nick placed the glass in front of her before she had a chance to take a breath. "Anything else?"
Dolly pulled her clinging shell back and forth from her bosom to create an air flow, and Nick got a few flickering peeks at those heavenly orbs. "No, I just need to rest until the vibrations go away. I feel as though I'm still driving the car."
"Come back here a minute."
"What for?"
"Don't ask questions, just follow me into the back room."
"My husband is next door."
"And my mother, may God bless her, is selling fruit in New York City. Now, come on, you want to catch a cold from exhaustion and the sudden temperature change?" He whisked her drink off the bar and stood near the curtained doorway to the back room. Dolly smiled, then slowly climbed off the stool, walked behind the bar and past Nick, through the curtain.
"Hey, Nick," called a customer, "how about another round?"
"Get it yourself, Harry; I'm doing my good deed for today." He disappeared behind the curtain and led Dolly into a very small room, a few degrees warmer. The bed was covered with a lavender satin spread over yellow silk sheets. The deep, lush carpet was red, and the light was very dim and indirect.
Nick flipped on the tape player which produced soft, restful sounds. "Like it? My brother was the decorator."
"He's an athlete."
"My brother."
"No, my husband."
"I see, I think."
"Pro basketball."
"That's nice. Kick off your shoes and crawl under the covers. I'll be right back." Nick went into the even smaller bathroom and dampened a washcloth with warm water. When he returned Dolly was resting under the covers, a little frightened and excited by the possibilities dancing through her head.
Sitting on the floor, Nick dabbed at her forehead with the cloth. "How does that feel?"
"Very refreshing. Do all your customers get such royal treatment?"
"No, just the women, and then only those who turn me on. Are you going to be in town long?" He moved the cloth to her chest. "If we find a place. Eeeeeasy."
"I'll help you." He reached inside the shell and lightly stroked her breasts, tapping both nipples as though he were sending messages on a telegraph key.
"I'm sure you would. Take away your hand, little boy."
"And if I don't?"
"I'll scream."
"How loud can you scream?" Nick asked, massaging the quickly hardening nipples faster and harder.
Dolly took a deep breath and opened her mouth as wide as she could; but before she could scream, Nick covered her mouth with his own. She tried to twist away from him, but he wouldn't budge. She dug her nails into his neck, which only caused him to become more passionate. Even a sharp bite on his lower lip brought no response.
Exhausted, she quit struggling, and Nick slowly moved his body on top of hers without breaking the kiss. She felt his semierection as it passed over her thigh. Even through the two thicknesses of cloth it felt like a young python slithering across her leg. Tilting her sex downward she pressed her legs tightly together; but Nick, bridging her body with his, gyrated over her until, to Dolly's surprise, her legs involuntarily opened to him, and her cunt sprang back into place to meet that irritating stimulus teasing the perimeter of her sex.
Nick pressed on, taking long, slow passes at her pussy. like a swing gaining momentum, each sweeping motion rose higher and ground harder into the target area than the one before.
Dolly let go. The cock digging into her silk-covered sex seemed as big as a baseball bat and hotter than ten thousand hells. Her box was on fire, and her love juices began to splash against her rigid panic button like waves of boiling oil. like a hooked fish she thrashed in total abandon and shoved her tongue into Nick's mouth. He sucked it back to his throat and kept pulling. The pleasure and pain of it were too much for her, she tore her face from his and panted for fresh air. Nick made his deepest penetration and, knowing he had pinned her excited clit with the head of his throbbing cock, he held that position firmly.
"Oh, God," she moaned. "You ... whatever your name is ... get those pants off and fuck me! Fuck me now!"
Nick rolled over on his back and a bell rang in the room. "Ah, shit!"
Dolly shot to a sitting position. "What's that."
"Your old man just walked in."
"What'll we do?"
Nick got up and pulled open the pink crushed-velvet drapes, uncovering a door. "Out this way. You can walk around the corner and meet him coming out."
"Must I?"
"House rules. Come on, hit it!"
With a frustrated pout she pulled her shoes on and walked to the door. "What's your name."
"Nick."
"I'm Dolly."
"Hello, Dolly," he sang. "Come see me when you get settled."
"All right," she said, walking past him, shading her eyes from the harsh sunlight.
"Oh, and one more thing."
"What?"
"Stay away from a character called Billy Black."
"Why?"
"No time to explain now. To be kind, let's just say he's a bad news mother-fucker. He eats little girls like you for breakfast."
"Sounds like fun," she grinned.
"Yeah, like World War II was a ball." He slapped her on the ass and squeezed the cheek. "Run." He closed the door behind her.
Just as Nick had predicted, Dick and Dolly almost collided at the door of the Sandpiper. He led her into the grocery store and introduced her to Fingers. After one eyeful of those bouncing jugs, the old man started to drool all over himself.
"I think I'm gonna like you ... I mean, I think yer gonna like the place," he stammered, as he led them to the apartment. His hand shook as he finally found the right key and opened the door.
The young couple gasped as they stepped inside. Each piece of furniture was a work of art, all hand-hewn by a master carpenter. A dozen or so original paintings, all of excellent quality and having to do with the sea, hung in the living room and the extra-large bedroom with its king-sized bed and richly carved headboard. The dressing table was Spanish, centuries old, and a huge silver-framed mirror hung over it. In the dining area was a beautiful bar made of hatch covers, and a round teakwood table complete with four red leather-upholstered captain's chairs. The kitchen was spotless and compact, yet contained all the major appliances. The fittings throughout the apartment were highly polished brass.
"Very nice, Fingers. How much?"
"One-fifty; that includes the utilities."
"But ... "
"Okay, one-twenty. Look, don't ask me why, but I really want you kids to have the place. It's not a question of bein' responsible for damage-this stuff can't be replaced. I jist have a feelin' that you would like it here and not damage anythin' in the first place."
"Well take it," Dolly said, studying a painting of naked fishermen manning their nets.
While Dick was writing the old man a check, Dolly popped into the shower. The water felt warm and refreshing as she lathered the rich curves of her body. She glided her soapy fingers up and down the silky inner lining of her vagina. The ultra-smooth flesh there was still tender from Nick's onslaught. Waves of electric excitement spread throughout her loins as she gently rubbed her clit between her thumb and forefinger. She increased the pressure, rushing toward a climax to release her from the tension within.
"Room for one more?" Dick smiled as he stuck his head inside the shower, but his smile quickly vanished when Dolly pulled him toward her. He lost his balance and plopped on his butt on the shower floor. Dolly dove between his long legs and sucked the entirety of his tool into her mouth. "Hey, what's happening?" he asked in surprise.
"Shut up and play!" she demanded.
Dick reached over the entire length of her back and entered her throbbing pussy from behind. She immediately tightened her cunt muscles around his probing fingers, and her whole body became as tense and rigid as a railroad tie. He found her clit with his other hand; and this first long-awaited climax hit her with the wild, raw force of a herd of stampeding cattle.
"Oh, my God!" she screamed, unable to continue licking his long, slender shaft. She mouthed the head of his prick, but couldn't find the strength to tighten her lips around it as every muscle and fiber in her body gave way to the mighty orgasm which completely overpowered her.
They lay still for a long time. Uncomfortable, Dick tried to extricate himself from her, but she looked up at him with drugged eyes and begged him not to move. Her being was diffused, splattered all over the Universe, and she had to pause until it came back to her.
Slowly she began to move as life returned to her limbs. For the first time she became aware of the stimulating sting of the water jetting onto her skin. She moved back and rested against the opposite wall, letting the forceful streams of water bounce off her chest and tits and form small rivulets which tickled her stomach and ribs as they rolled downward and flooded her satiated sex.
Dick pushed his legs through the curtain to give himself room to crawl between hers. She was almost asleep when he eased his tongue into her slit. Had she the strength she might have objected, but all she could do was just loll there and moan as he lapped and sucked her up still another mountain of passion. Again she peaked and screamed. Again he pushed her over the edge. Again she lazily floated down, down until she fell back to reality again.
Tenderly taking his head in her hands, she opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment, then kissed him. It was a long, beautiful kiss. Without speaking she pulled herself onto wobbly legs and led him to the bed. She stood over him and stroked him playfully, touching every area of his body with light, loving fingers. like a child with the world's largest candy bar, the size of him filling up the huge bed excited her; and the longer she stroked him, the quicker her breathing became and the more her salivary glands secreted.
Sensing it was about to be tended to, his cock rose and was rewarded with a kiss. Then, teasing his balls with her nails, she kissed the inner sides of his thighs and planted a trail of kisses across his hips, over his touchy abdomen, across his stomach and up to his ribs and nipples, which was as far as she could extend herself. Behind her kisses came the warm, welcome sensation created by rock-hard nipples tracing lines of excitement across his flesh.
His body intoxicated her, and she became drunker with each touch and nibble. Dick reached up to caress her breasts, but she coaxed him to lie back and enjoy her lovemaking. Returning to his tool, she clasped it tightly with one free hand while continuing to massage his balls and the hole beneath with the other. She leaned forward and rotated his rod into and over the delicate flesh of her bosom, then lowered her wet mouth over him and sucked his rubbery head far back into her throat.
"Oh, yes, Baby, yes," Dick moaned, crossing his forehead with his hand and writhing his hips, pushing himself closer to her, aching for her to take all of him inside the silk-lined vacuum of her anxious mouth.
Dolly got her finger past the sphincter muscle and plunged it deep inside him, all the way to his prostate. He moaned again, and his drawn legs fell to either side like felled trees. Working her tongue over his cock faster, and letting her hands increase their busy work, she could feel his juices churning within him and began to pump them out.
"Oh, God, that feels good! Don't stop! Take me, Love! Take all of me!"
"Oooo oh!" she screamed as the first drop of jism touched her lips. She bore down on her cunt muscles, for his orgasm had triggered one within her, and she pulled on his spurting prick like a milking-machine turned up full blast.
Though unseen by them, they were joined in this moment of passion by Fingers, who was watching the entire proceedings from behind the one-way glass of the dressing mirror. He sat in the dark cubicle he had constructed expressly for this purpose and, jerking away madly at his withered tool, he managed to ejaculate a meager driblet of come onto his bare, scrawny knee at the precise moment his new tenants hit their mutual orgasm.
It was late afternoon of the same day, and the Pink Lady was slowly making her way down the speedway toward Hamburger Square. The pink poodle on the pink leash stopped every twenty feet to pee, and this somewhat slowed her daily journey; but these interruptions didn't ruffle her patience in the least, for her early English upbringing had fortified her with a great deal of that virtue, as well as impeccable diction and grand stature.
On first glance one would think the Pink Lady was just another affluent, middle-aged woman (a Southern California commodity as plentiful as oranges); but on closer inspection her elegant clothes looked more like costumes which had been mended many times, and all the hand cream in the world couldn't have removed the calluses from those once lily-white hands. During the week (and this was discovered only because Billy Black followed her one day) she scrubbed floors in downtown office buildings; but on weekends she was the Zza Zza Gabor of Venus society.
"Good afternoon!" Billy Black's greeting was shouted right in the woman's ear as he suddenly materialized from under the hammock.
Shock and surprise were words not to be found in her vocabulary, and she registered neither emotion. "And a good afternoon to you, Mr. Black," was her casual reply as she picked up her dog.
"You look positively beautiful this afternoon," he said, thrusting a piece of paper and pen into her hand.
"Why, thank you. What have we here?"
"It's a petition to get them to stop work on the pier."
"Whyever would you want that?"
"Surely you don't want the kind of riffraff the pier will attract to flood the beach like they do in these other communities? The junior executive with his two point three Volkswagens will bring his snooty wife and his one point seven spoiled brats and deposit them on our recreational facilities. Hamburger Square will get its face lifted to accommodate the tastes of the thousands that will crowd our streets, and we will be driven from our homes by high rise apartment buildings. There will be no place for us to live, no place for us to play, and our merchants will cancel all charge accounts."
"Heaven forbid!" she said, signing the paper. "I had no idea anything like that would happen."
"And there's more," he said, taking the paper. "Much more. But I can't talk now." He disappeared under the hammock.
"Mr. Black?"
"Yes?" he answered, popping back into view.
"Why are you hiding under that hammock?"
"Oh, I'm not hiding. This delightful little girl is sucking my cock, and I don't think it's right to do this sort of thing where children can see."
"You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am. Look." He drew back the hammock, and the Pink Lady looked over the porch railing. The redhead laughed, and Billy's tool flopped out of the side of her mouth.
"My goodness, you were telling it like it is, as the children say." She put her hand over her poodle's eyes.
"Say hello to the Pink Lady, uh ... what's your name, honey?"
"Laurie," she said, blushing as she tried to tuck his hard rod back into his swim trunks.
"Don't stop on my account, my dear," said the Pink Lady. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."
"I am," Laurie said. She took the cock back into her mouth again and started licking the shaft and his balls so the older woman could get a good look at the action.
"Great way to pass the day," Billy said. "This kind of exercise really helps me unwind. But I've been telling you that for years."
The Pink Lady couldn't take her eyes off his cock. "Mr. Black? " she asked after a moment.
"Yes?"
"Do you recall telling me that I had a standing invitation to partake of your services anytime I chose? I think you made that statement about three years ago."
Billy scratched his head. "No, I don't remember; but it sounds like something I'd say."
"Would you mind awfully if I joined in the festivities this afternoon?"
"Not at all. Okay with you, Laurie?"
"I don't care."
"Splendid. Could we go inside? I'm not quite as brave as you, I'm afraid."
"By all means!" Billy replied with a big grin. "Do you want to take the animal home, or shall we let him enjoy the party with us?"
"Oh, good heavens, no. Poopsie would have a stroke. I'll tie him to a table. Shall we go?"
Billy stood up after cramming his bulging muscle back into his trunks. "After you, sweet lady," he said with a sweeping gesture.
"Is she going to want to make it with me?" Laurie whispered to Billy as they went up the stairs to his bedroom.
"I don't know. I've never even seen her knee. Play it by ear."
"Well, I don't want to do that."
"Why?"
"Because I've never done it before."
"It may be your thing."
"Well, I just won't do it, and you can't make me. The whole idea disgusts me."
"Suits the shit out of me. I wouldn't walk across the street to make anybody do anything."
The assembled trio sat facing one another on the king-sized bed. Billy asked if anyone had any suggestions as to where to begin, and the Pink Lady remarked that taking off their clothes would be as good a beginning as any. She stood and removed her light green hat with the outlandish pink feather. Next came the floor-length dress and the old-fashioned petticoat. Her bra and panties were homemade replicas of those worn in the thirties by ladies posing for French postcards. As she slipped out of these (with the composure and dignity of the Queen herself) Billy's lackadaisical grin vanished, and he realized that he might be in for more than a comic fuck with an old broad. The Pink Lady was in fantastic shape for her age (or anyone's age for that matter). Her tits were small but firm, and showed no signs of drooping. In fact, not an inch of loose flesh could be seen anywhere on her tall, slim frame.
"How do you keep so trim?" Laurie asked, slipping out of her bikini. The poise and grace of the other woman had removed all her self-consciousness.
"I dance on the beach," she answered, pirouetting around the room. "In the early morning hours I dance, naked, along the water's edge. I dance a ballet of praise to the beauty of nature, and I'm rewarded with a continuing youthful spirit and body."
Billy Black was mesmerized by the erotic, liquid flow of her movements. "And to think everyone in Venus, myself included, has been laughing at you all these years."
"Oh, no Mr. Black; everyone laughs with me. They may not be conscious of it, but our spirits communicate. Spirits cannot be deceived. Take yours, for instance. You would have us believe that there is little good in you, but I know the opposite to be true."
Billy laughed. "Then all these people I've been fucking have been love objects?"
"Yes. Whether you call it fucking or cock-sucking or cunt-lapping doesn't change the act itself. Words haven't the power to make a beautiful act ugly." She glided to him and pulled his red trunks from his body with the deftness of a conjuror jerking a tablecloth from under dishes. Still moving with the rhythm of the dance she caressed his genitals with her hands; his cock sprang into a full erection and swayed with her movements as though keeping time with unheard music. "Can you say that you feel nothing but lust in your loins when I touch your manhood in this manner, or deliver sweet kisses upon it like this?" She kissed his cock squarely, taking the tip end between her pursed lips, and lightly glazed it with her tongue.
"Nothing else, Pink Lady. There is nothing else." Billy felt as though she were kissing the very insides of him, but he ignored the sensation.
"Ah, but there is more. Much more. But you refuse to accept it. I had a great teacher when I was a little girl in London, and she taught all her children that love was beauty. Perhaps you have heard of her. Her name was Isadora Duncan, and she dedicated her life to all things beautiful and all things loving." She turned her attentions to Laurie. "Like you, my dear." She placed her hands on Laurie's tits and gently pushed her backwards, until she was stretched out across the bed. "You are beautiful. Your body is young and bursting with loveliness. But all that beauty will remain locked up inside of you unless someone who has had the experiences you lack coaxes all that loveliness from you." The Pink Lady brought her body down on top of Laurie's and held it just inches above her. Rotating ever so slowly, she brushed the girl's thigh with the hair of her sex while kissing her neck, chest and shoulders.
Laurie felt all weight leave her body, and she seemed to be swimming in deliciously warm waters. Her pubic area tingled as the older woman brushed her with teasing, circular motions. Cries of objections were made deep in her brain, but they were so weak and so far away that they were quickly overruled by the tender, loving excitement of the moment. The Pink Lady kissed her in both areas simultaneously. Her lips found the girl's panting mouth and filled it with her tongue, while the lips of her pussy descended on Laurie's and seemed to suck the girl's clitoris up into the hot, wet mouth of her sex.
Laurie swooned. She fell into a marvelous trance just this side of unconsciousness, and tiny, orgasmistic explosions ignited, in chain reaction fashion, every nerve in her system. The Pink Lady went into a frenzy of loving assault upon her willing victim. She ground their sexes together, and her kisses grew harder, hotter, more frequent. Laurie was so overcome she couldn't respond. She could only lie there and take her lover's caresses. She wanted to return the warm kisses and replace the love taken from her giving partner. Could it be true that she was actually making love with another woman? she asked herself. No, was her quick answer, for this was not a woman. This was another person-another soul, who needed desperately to love and be loved.
As an athlete will summon up that extra fraction of strength when almost totally exhausted, Laurie rolled the Pink Lady over on her back and changed roles with her. Drunk with waves of warm ecstasy, she kissed the woman's eyes, nose, ears and mouth. She took her taut nipples between her lips and teased them with her teeth. Not being able to contact her with her pussy, as the more experienced woman had been able to do, that area began to itch with want; she spun around quickly and fell upon the beautiful pussy with her mouth. An ocean of wetness flowed from both the lips that kissed and the pussy that ached to be kissed. Exactly the same pattern of stimulus and response was being set at the other end as the Pink Lady plunged her hot tongue into the inviting slit of smooth, pink flesh which hovered over her face.
How long did they continue like that? Laurie couldn't answer that question. There was the feeling of eternity present. It was as though they had always been sharing this great joy, coupled with the fear that their love-making might end. Oh, what a tragedy that would be! What's that? She's touching my other hole. Oh, yes! Oh, that feels so good! And now the fingers go deep inside me! Why doesn't that hurt? She's using something-a cream of some kind. And now deeper! And now more fingers! And now-"Oh, God, that feels good! What are you doing, my darling?"
"I'm fucking you in the ass, my darling," answered Billy Black, standing over them with his cock half buried in Laurie's ass, his balls resting on the Pink Lady's forehead.
"Oh, do it, do it, do it! Love me, suck me, fuck me! Both of you! Both of you, my darlings!"
Billy, holding Laurie by the hips, pushed and pulled her over his throbbing cock as he increased his thrust. "Wow! Oh, shit, that feels good!" he exclaimed, feeling the hot, tight flesh bearing down on his cock, and the Pink Lady's lips and tongue working over his balls and ass-hole, alternately moving from Laurie's clit to Billy's balls as he moved in and out of her range.
Laurie got the Pink Lady's clit in her mouth and closed her teeth around it. "Ummmmmm," moaned the Pink Lady, her face contorting in pleasure. She bore down on Laurie's clit, then pushed her finger into Billy and diddled his prostate.
It was one, two, three: Billy, Laurie, the Pink Lady.
"God damn!" Billy cringed as a truckload of come rushed up from his tormented testicles, through his over-stimulated shaft, enlarging him, making Laurie's ass-hole widen even more before gushing out inside her.
"AGHHHHH!" Laurie screamed. Her clit was on fire. Her ass was on fire. And someone, who knows which one, who cares, maybe both, thrust their fingers into her hot gaping cunt and pushed them all the way to the mouth of her womb.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH! Ohhhhhh." The Pink Lady felt her orgasm all the way to her toes. like a tidal wave of pleasure, it rushed up to her head, and then back down into her feet, and, making several more passes, slowly subsided like a disturbed pond as it rocks back and forth until placid once again.
With shaking knees Billy crawled in between the two women; and they all, using what tiny amount of energy they had left, gently kissed whatever part of whoever anatomy was handy. This affectionate afterplay continued until there was nothing left.
One after the other, the lovers quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Billy was awakened by the excited yapping of Poopsie. He flipped on the bedside lamp, and the perturbed poodle danced over the two sleeping forms, awakening them as he lapped at their nakedness, and his little red pecker came brightly into view.
"Good morning, children," Billy said.
"Hello," grinned Laurie, yawning and stretching her arms and legs. She hugged the Pink Lady around the waist and kissed her stomach.
"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" said the Pink Lady, stroking Laurie's hair, noticing the silkiness of its texture.
"Oh, yes! It was as though I was transported into another world. I never thought sex could be that beautiful with a woman. I know you'll think I'm silly, but I just love you." She grabbed Billy's hand. "Both of you."
"My, how did you get loose?" said the Pink Lady to Poopsie who jealously pushed his nose between Laurie's face and his mistress' stomach. She pulled at the frayed ends of his leash where he had broken loose. "You naughty little man. I know, I know, you wanted to be with your mom. She was having a love-party and you wanted to join." The dog happily licked her hand as she stroked his cock.
"Do you jerk him off?" asked Laurie.
"Oh, yes, quite often."
"And you don't mind?"
"I love him. What else can I tell you?"
"May I?" Laurie reached for Poopsie's genitals.
"Be my guest."
"Here I sit, ladies and gentlemen, between two lovely ladies. I've been told I'm not a bad-looking guy, but these wenches would rather pass the time jerking off an over-anxious poodle." The dog sprang from Laurie's grasp and bounded into Billy's lap.
"He wants you, Billy," Laurie said. "Isn't that sweet?"
"Oh, no, take it to one of the ladies, old man. That's not my thing."
"Please, Mr. Black; he'd enjoy it so."
"I've heard the love-me-love-my-dog line, but this is ridiculous."
"Come on, Billy, make him shoot." She slid closer to him. "Here, make him shoot on my stomach."
"No reasonable request refused-that's my motto." He spit on his hand and massaged the dog's tiny prick. Poopsie started kicking, and nipped him on the cheek. "No kissing, please, I'm just rendering a service, not offering my hand in matrimony." The dog squealed and shot a narrow stream of jism into Laurie's navel.
"Isn't that cute?" Laurie said, leaning over and kissing the dog on the balls. "Just like my little brother."
"You must have some very interesting family picnics."
"Oh, we do," said Laurie, taking Billy's soft cock in her mouth and squeezing it with her lips. "You must come with us sometime."
Billy pulled away from her and stood up. "New game, children. We have work to do." He reached into a drawer and removed a bottle of black liquid, poured some into his hand and transferred it to Laurie's chest.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm painting you black. We've got a little night work ahead of us.
The three of them took turns painting one another until there was not a patch of white on anyone.
"What do we do now?" asked the Pink Lady. "I don't think I've ever played this game before."
Billy ran for the stairs. "Follow me, men!" He bounded down the stairs and out the back door onto the beach. No one was in sight, and he led them to the lifeguard's station and dove under it. Breathless, the two women joined him there.
"What's this all about?" asked Laurie. "See that dozer over there by the pier?"
"Yes."
"I'm going to ride it into the ocean."
"Mr. Black, that's willful destruction of private property."
"It's also a way to halt the construction on the pier."
The Pink Lady touched his black cock, shining in the moonlight. "Don't do that. Come back with us. I'll do anything to give you pleasure, but not this."
"This is what it shall be, ladies. Anyone coming with me?"
"Not I, Mr. Black."
"I'll go with you, Billy. If you're sure that's what you want to do."
"Let's go." He sprang from the station and sprinted to the dozer, hiding behind it. Laurie was soon there with him. "See that hut over there? There are two guards in there." He handed her a padlock. "The door can be locked from the outside. As soon as you snap the lock, wave at me and then get the hell out of here. I'll meet you back at the house."
"But ... "
"No questions. Go!"
Billy watched Laurie's cute little ass as she ran to the hut and hid behind it for a moment to catch her breath. He jumped into the dozer's seat, and Laurie disappeared around the other side of the hut. A moment later she stuck her head back into view and waved. He fired up the machine and released the clutch.
The pier was in its first stages of construction. It jutted about thirty feet over the sand and another thirty over the water. Billy aimed the crawling monster onto the ramp, opened up the big diesel engine full blast and headed through the wooden barricade and over the rough concrete.
Laurie ran back to the pier just as Billy was going over the end. The last section collapsed, and Billy gave a loud rebel yell as he followed the machine into the water. Sirens blasted, and Laurie saw the tiny hut wave back and forth as the men tried to pound their way out. She ran out in the water, looking for a sign of Billy. Only bubbles came forth from where the huge dozer had hit the water. She waited for Billy to surface, but he was nowhere in sight. Five minutes passed. It seemed like five hours. Suddenly she was very cold. Chill bumps rose all over her and she hugged her titties and heard her teeth begin to chatter.
The guards broke out, and Laurie ran crying down the beach and back to the lifeguard's station. She stayed there for another few minutes, then ran back into Billy's house, where she spent a sleepless night being bathed and consoled by the Pink Lady, who assured her Billy would be all right.
Billy Black was indeed all right. He swam underwater as soon as he submerged, and surfaced about twenty yards down the other side of the pier from where Laurie watched for him. There he watched the action: Laurie hesitantly running away, and the guards cussing as they examined the damage.
When the way seemed clear, Billy swam a few more yards down the beach and got out of the water near an old girl friend's house. Her name was Gloria, and even though she had sworn to spit in Billy's face if he ever talked to her again (they had had a little misunderstanding over a couple of thousand dollars of hers that Billy spent), she let him into her house, her bed and her body, completely accepting his story that he had narrowly escaped from a band of matimen in KKK garb, who stripped him, painted him black, and were about to lynch him when he broke away.
Gloria was a very trusting person. After an early morning blow job, she gave Billy a thousand dollars for his escape to Mexico.
CHAPTER TWO
The beach was alive with fuzz.
The Channel Nine helicopter hovered over the vestigial remains of the pier and nearly collided with the giant crane brought up from a Pacific Ocean Park apartment project to fish the dozer out of the water.
Laurie was bombarded with questions from newsmen. Her tears were real, and she blamed them on the heat and excitement as she tried to break through the circle of men armed with cameras and microphones in hopes to see if Billy Black's body was still on the dozer. Yes, she had seen a man driving the dozer onto the pier. No, she couldn't see his face. Well, he was fat and short and about fifty. Oh, yes, bald, too, and had a red mustache.
Another of Fingers' tenants, Irish Bob Coffee, was busy snapping shots of the action with his Nikon, wondering why Billy Black wasn't there. This was obviously his work, and it wasn't at all like him to miss a golden opportunity to deliver one of his inspired orations on the police state, corrupt government officials, and inferior construction materials used by the County Supervisor. Billy was particularly sharp in front of TV cameras, and Irish Bob knew that in just five minutes he would have given a convincing argument leading to the conclusion that the pier collapsed of its own volition.
Mayor Conklin, dressed in his usual Liberace-hand-me-down suit, blamed the incident on Communist infiltration, as outlined in his new book, which (luckily he just happened to have a copy in his pocket) he waved before the cameras. He caught up to Irish Bob in the parking lot.
"You seen Billy Black?"
"No, John. You don't suppose he got carried out to sea, do you?"
"If there's a God in Heaven, that's exactly what happened! That son of a bitch is going to ruin everything if we don't stop him!"
"Why don't you and Fats put him away?"
"Funny. Very funny. You should go on the Sullivan Show."
"Or maybe even politics." Irish Bob laughed, remembering some very interesting footage he had shot with a hidden camera in Billy Black's bedroom. At one point in the impromptu little drama, the good Mayor had pushed his pudding between the now-famous-but-then-unknown lips of a French film star, while Charles (Fats) Miller, chief of police, ate out the little lady's box with the gusto of a rooting wild boar.
"I'll give you five thousand for the negative and prints of that thing."
"What, and discontinue our weekly Mayor Conklin Film Festivals? What a loss that would be to Venus culture! And then you would want to close my studio, ending forever the healthy competition between us and Culver City."
"I'll get you one of these days."
"Sure you will. By the way, who does your hair?" asked Irish Bob, biting his tongue to keep from laughing at the aging Mayor's highly-teased white-meringue coiffure.
"I've got this new fellow who works on all the stiffs over at Forest Lawn," he said, vainly gliding his hand over the lacquered surface. "Do you really like it?"
"It's just marvelous!"
The temperature light flashed on the instrument panel of Gloria's Ford convertible, and Billy Black shouted a stream of unrelated obscenities (all of which were directed to the absentee owner of the car) and pulled into a service station.
"She's blown her thermostat," the attendant told him.
"How long will it take to put in a new one?"
"Well, it's Sunday. All the parts houses are closed."
"I'm not here to do research on the fucking work schedules of San Diego merchants! Now, how long will it take to fix it?"
"I dunno. I can phone around, I guess."
"So, do it! Close up the place if you have to. Price is no object. Put it on here." Billy handed the man Gloria's credit card.
"Anything you say, mister."
"What's there to do around here?"
"Well, the zoo's just around the corner."
Billy got out of the car and slammed the door. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. Be sure it's ready by then."
He was amazed at the hordes of people flocking into the zoo. It had become quite an attraction since his days at Hollywood High. He was a tall, slim, pretty kid then, already well aware of his cock's marketing potential. He had assured himself a passing grade in English one Saturday afternoon in Miss Thompson's bed, slowly fucking her into an oblivious state while softly reciting an admixture of Byron, Keats and Henry Miller. Miss Willoughby, the Biology teacher, was the only obstacle that stood between himself and graduation.
As Billy walked through the giant bird house, a foliage-filled superstructure in which man could mingle with his feathered friends, total recall of the incident flooded his mind. Miss Willoughby had been an uptight, thirtyish virgin, unable to look Billy directly in the eyes without being overcome with nervous anxiety. To punish him for turning her on, she had graded his papers unfairly, taking off an inordinate percentage for misspelling and punctuation.
The field trip to the San Diego Zoo had been Billy's last chance to change her mind, and he took full advantage of it. Mr. Twitterham, another teacher, who looked amazingly like a stork, was the co-sponsor that day, and Billy made certain that he did most of the work by guarding Miss Willoughby with the one-on-one determination that won him a letter in basketball.
Billy had worn no underwear that day, and by mid-afternoon he had worked up a formidable bulge in his Levis by casually fouling Miss Willoughby's legs and buttocks with his errant wand; and he had sustained his erection with intermittent bouts of surreptitious pocket pool. The heat of his throbbing muscle had quickly penetrated her flimsy cotton dress, and his repetitions of that action were slowly blowing her mind. When she could stand no more of him, she would turn and face him; but this offered her no avenue of escape, for there, only inches from her own, were the two most perfectly shaped robin's-egg-blue eyes she had ever seen. And to make matters worse, there was such a loud plea in his stare, like the soulful look of a cocker spaniel ready to lay down his life for his master.
"And this is a tapir," she said when they had approached a large compound containing several different kinds of animals. "Billy, please don't stand so close. As you can see, the tapir is a member of the swine family, indigenous to tropical regions. Don't stand so close!" She repeated, rapidly fanning her face. "It's a very warm day."
"What's that?" asked Billy, planting his index finger firmly into the center of Miss Willoughby's right tit. "Oh, sorry," he added casually, dropping his hand.
"That's an aardvark, an African ant-eating mammal and member of the groundhog family."
"Isn't there any danger in having them run around together like that? I mean, that's a pretty mean-looking tapir there. Won't he put the muscle on that little aardvark?"
"Oh, no. The zookeepers are very careful about things like that. These animals are quite compatible."
As if the tapir had heard Miss Willoughby's statement, she plopped to the ground and spread her legs wide open to the aardvark, who immediately shot his tongue the necessary two feet and made a direct hit into the lady tapir's slit. Her organ muscles tightened, and she recoiled from this first advance, but quickly relaxed and opened up again.
"I see what you mean," Billy said, nuzzling up to Miss Willoughby's shapely rear and adjusting his dick between the folds.
Miss Willoughby was torn between rushing the children onto the next exhibit and watching the base act being performed. With all her training, she certainly wasn't aware that such acts of perversion were practiced by lower animals; and although the idea repulsed her, she was somewhat mesmerized (only because of scientific curiosity, of course) by their behavior.
The aardvark lapped away, and the tapir began to squeal in a most unlady-like fashion. He never lingered within her, but maintained a steady succession of machine-gunlike pops onto the specific area which brought her the most satisfaction. His marksmanship was flawless. Though she remained stationary, he kept moving his head in a hypnotic arc, yet still managed to strike the same spot each time his awesome tongue darted out to meet her.
Billy began slowly to rotate his hips and prod deeper into Miss Willoughby's backside, but she was unaware of him. She knew something was happening within her. Her heart and pulse rate increased rapidly, and she could feel the love juices flowing from her virgin pussy, but these sensations were surely caused by the obscenity of what she was watching and certainly had nothing to do with the boy who stood behind her.
Lashing with more fury than ever, the aardvark started mixing his action, bouncing his tongue off the thigh of the other animal once in every four shots at her cunt.
The other students were the quietest they had been all day. They witnessed the event in solemn reverence, afraid that their slightest movement might distract the loving couple.
"What are they doing?" asked a cute little blonde, licking her lips nervously.
Miss Willoughby searched for the proper words to explain the phenomenon. "I haven't the foggiest idea," she answered.
The end was near, and the aardvark sensed it. Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow! His tongue moved so quickly it looked as though he were holding it against her. She began to kick furiously and a translucent liquid flowed from her snatch. POW! That was it-the straw that broke the camel's back. She came apart at the seams, grunted one last deafening oink, then rolled over on her side and went to sleep.
Slowly the aardvark waddled to the small pool and stood in the center of it with his head bowed. Why? Maybe to keep a thundering herd of tapirs from beating a path to his door. Maybe this was his way of doing penance for his sins. All the children thought about this as they slowly made their way into the giant bird house. All, that is, except Billy Black. He was thinking about Miss Willoughby's twat.
The bird house was constructed on the side of a hill, and the children had to wind their way down a twisting concrete path overgrown with trees and various tropical foliage, then exit below. Mr. Twitterham was doing his thing. To every bird that made a sound he would answer with a vocal love call.
Billy Black discovered a storage cove, where they kept food for the birds, about halfway down the path. It was blocked with a saw horse supporting a Keep Out sign. He and Miss Willoughby trailed the others. It was cool and smelled sweet in here. Billy ducked behind the barricade to the cove. "Come here a minute, Miss Willoughby," he whispered.
"What? Where are you?"
"In here," he answered, ducking his head out of the cove.
She went to the mouth of the cove and curiously stuck her head into the darkness behind it. Billy grabbed her arm and pulled her inside and onto the cool earthen floor.
"Billy, what is the meaning of this?! "
"Shh, just relax a moment," he said, putting his arms around her and resting her head on his chest. "It's been a long, hot day. Rest for a moment. I want to talk to you. I want to ask you something, and I brought you in here because I don't want the others to hear."
"Well, this is most uncoventional, but since we are already here, what is it?"
"Well, this isn't easy for me to talk about. I've seen you every day for almost a year now, and I think you are the prettiest lady I've ever seen in my life."
"That's very sweet, Billy. I think you are a very good-looking young man."
"And anyway, you know how kids daydream about their teachers and all." He blew lightly into her ear as he talked. "And I was wondering if maybe I could ... well, I mean it would mean a lot to me if I could ... "
The teacher felt good in his arms; she had often wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but never thought she would have the opportunity. "I think I know what you want, Billy," she said, moistening her lips.
"You do?"
"Yes, and it's all right as long as you don't tell the other students."
"Oh, I won't, I promise! Can I do it now?"
She closed her eyes and tilted her face toward his. "Yes, n now.
"Oh, great! I've wanted to eat your cute little box since the first day of school, Miss Willoughby." He had pulled her dress up and' her panties off before she knew what was happening.
"You want to do what to my what? BILLY!"
He spun around and fell face down onto her exposed cunt and immediately sucked her clit into his mouth and tongued it wildly.
"My, God! You can't ... don't! Please! Oh, that feels so good! Stop! Billy Black, stop that this minute!"
"Why?" he mumbled, lapping up the juices flowing from her pussy, keeping constant pressure on her, recalling how the aardvark had done it.
"Oh, shit, I don't know. Mother, you son of a bitch, you lied to me! Turn around, Billy, put your legs back this way so I can get at you!" He obeyed, and she pulled his jeans down around his knees and ran her dainty fingers over the rippling muscles on his young thighs. Taking his stiff prong in her hand, she kissed his hips and lower stomach. Automatically her lips began to nibble away at the base of his cock. She hadn't planned to do that, but then she hadn't planned on her entire being being flooded with the ecstasy and joy which issued forth from this beautiful boy's mouth.
She studied his instrument closely. "Penis Erectus, in its natural habitat," she said, taking his cock between her lips and manipulating its head with her tongue. She liked it. She liked the slightly salty taste of the pre-semen flow, and she sucked greedily, trying to draw out more of the delightful elixir.
"Whoa," Billy moaned softly, and he began to tremble the way a volcano does before eruption. She paid no attention to his plea. "Whoa! Stop!" She stopped sucking and held him firmly in her mouth. He didn't know what to do. If she didn't release him, he knew he would shoot in her mouth; and if he tried to pull out, it would explode before he could get it past her lips. He bit her on the thigh.
"Ouch!" she protested, and he was free. "Why did you do that?"
He swung his body around again and kissed her cheek. "I didn't want to go in your mouth," he said, pecking her face and neck lightly with his lips. "I want to go inside you. I want to feel your lovely body around me, holding me, wanting me; and then I want to flood you with my hot juice."
"No, you mustn't do that."
"Yes, I must!" He kissed her and rolled on top of her. He unbuttoned her dress and removed the bra which was two sizes too small for her. Her tits were voluptuous and sprang into view like twin mounds of rubber compressed in the prison of her bra. Billy Black had never seen such magnificent jugs, and he kissed them tenderly in appreciation of their existence. With his sex in his hand, he probed the entrance to her twitching vagina and plunged through the membrane guarding that passageway.
Miss Willoughby didn't feel a thing, except rapture, as he slowly moved his excited tool inside her. She wished her mother had been there to witness this marvelous event. Look in my eyes, Mother, she thought. Tell me you see the pain you promised I would feel at this time. And just look at Billy's body, moving in and out of me, filling me with more pleasure than I ever thought possible for one human being to give another. Tell me he's ugly, Mother. All men are ugly, rooting beasts who take and never give, remember? This ugly sex maniac is fucking your darling daughter, Mother! What do you think of that? He's fucking, fucking, fucking me; and I'm loving, loving, loving every second of it! Oh, just look at him! His arms and chest are strong and smooth against my excited nipples. His muscle is moving deeper, Mother; and when I tighten my pussy around it, the pleasure increases to a maddening degree. He's plunging still deeper, deeper into virgin territory. Virgin. Oh, how I hate that word!
She is fantastic! Why, oh why have I been wasting my time with the children? Twenty-nine years old, and a virgin to boot! Shit, I'm coming unglued! The top of my head is going to blow off and fall into that big sack of birdseed over there. And those tits! Son of a bitch, they're beautiful! I could spend the rest of my life sucking those sweet things.
How did this happen this way? You were going to show her, remember? You were going to give her a big kick and get a passing grade. Oh, fuck! My darling, I love to fuck you and feel your tits against me and your soft hands playing with my ass. Here I come, my love! The roar in my balls can't be stopped again!
"Oh, yes, Billy, pour your seed into me! I'm com ... com ... COMING WITH YOU! MOTHER, I'M COMING! EGHHHHHH!"
Mr. Twitterham cocked his head near the exit of the bird cage when Miss Willoughby screamed. "Oh, children, we're in luck! That's an African Pussy-feathered Screecher! I thought they were extinct!" He bolted back to cove and ran inside, finding the lovers half dressed. "Is he in here?"
"Who?" Billy asked very coolly.
"The African Pussyfeathered Screecher!? "
"Oh, him. No, he was here, but he got away. Miss Willoughby and I almost lost our clothes trying to catch him."
"Damn! Oh, well, he's got to be here somewhere. I'll find him!" Mr. Twitterham twittered away.
Billy and Miss Willoughby never spoke to one another after that. On the strength of a two-page thesis entitled, "Tapirs I Have Known, by Arnie Aardvark", he received the grade of A in Biology. When all the students had sprinted from the classroom on the last day of school, Billy sauntered up to her desk and paused for a moment. He looked into her eyes; and where before had been nervous anxiety, was now an abundance of warmth and great beauty. No words seem to be right for this occasion. Certainly "goodbye" was the least appropriate thing to say, so he simply smiled and walked out the door.
Now, almost thirty years later, he poked his head back into the same cove, after a brief search for Mr. Twitterham.
He could still smell the lilac powder Miss Willoughby always wore, and he was beginning to form a vision of her lying on the ground in all her naked loveliness, when a guard tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, mate, you can't go in there."
Billy looked back into the cove, and she was gone. "Yeah," he said after a pause, "I guess you're right, male."
After a couple of greasy hamburgers in the square, Irish Bob saw Laurie on the sidewalk with that end-of-the-world look of doom in her tearing eyes.
"He's okay, little girl," he said to her.
"Who?" she replied blankly.
"Billy Black. He's the best swimmer on the beach, so dry your pretty eyes and go home. Hell be back in a few days."
"Who are you, mister?"
"My friends call me Irish Bob. I'm a photographer."
"Are you Billy's friend?"
"Used to be, but not anymore. Billy Black doesn't have any friends. He wears them out quicker than a streetwalker wears out a pair of shoes."
"Can I stay with you until he comes back? The police are watching me, and I can't go back to his house."
Irish Bob thought about his daughter, who would be about the same age as this girl. "Well, I've got some work to do in the studio. Does it bother you to look at naked bodies?"
"Not at all. In fact I rather enjoy it."
"All right. Follow me." He led her through the gate to Fingers' building and into his apartment. The living room was big and light, and the view of the ocean was very good. Irish Bob moved behind the bamboo bar and popped an Alka Seltzer into a glass of water. The hamburgers weren't sitting well in his stomach. He belched and felt much better. "You know, the description you gave of the guy on the dozer fit me to a T."
"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anyone but Billy, so when they asked me, I picked you out of the crowd and gave them your description."
"Thanks a lot. You're a real pal. Come on back." They went into the first bedroom, which was set up for filming: Klieg lights, two Eclairs (one to be hand held and the other mounted on a tripod with a zoom lens), a draped wall, and a big bed. In the middle of the bed were two naked girls in their mid-twenties. Ginger was blonde (bleached, but so was her pussy so it didn't matter), a big strong girl with a fine set of knockers. Karen was a slight, raven-haired girl with a classically beautiful face, small titties, and an unbelievably strong oral fixation. She was gingerly eating Ginger at the moment the couple walked in.
"Hi, girls," Irish Bob said.
"Don't 'hi' me, you fat fart!" Ginger said. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I've been able to tell the difference between the big hand and the little hand since I was a small boy, thank you." He patted Karen on the head. "Hi, sweetheart. You on a busman's holiday?"
Karen looked up and smiled. "I guess you might say that, Mr. Coffee. Don't pay any attention to Ginger this afternoon. Her boyfriend got married yesterday, and I'm afraid she's a little bit of a sourpuss."
"Do you mean that literally, Karen?"
"Oh, no, never," she beamed. "She's the sweetest-tasting thing I've ever laid lips against." She sank back into her work.
"Well, I'm still waiting for an answer, turd-face! Where were you?"
"Fuck you, Ginger! That's your answer. To Karen I'll talk-you I'll just shoot. Karen, I'm sorry I'm late. There was a little excitement on the beach, and I took some shots of it."
"Oh, that's okay," she mumbled into Ginger's hairy snatch.
"Girls, I want you to meet ... uh, what's your name, sweetheart."
"I'm Laurie."
"And this is Karen and (he made a disagreeable face) Ginger."
"Hi, Laurie," Karen said warmly. "I love your hair. It's such a pretty shade. Do you do it yourself?"
"Thank you. No, it's natural."
"It's lovely. In fact all of you is lovely."
"Thank you. Coming from you that's quite a compliment. You're a beautiful woman."
"And I'm the fucking Queen of Sheba," Ginger growled. "Can we cut out all this lez talk and start shooting some shit? This broad's eating all the fire out of me."
"Where's Ronnie?"
"He called about an hour ago. Got his ass busted for trying to rape a white girl in the YWCA pool," Ginger said.
"Aw, shit! Well, I'll just have to get somebody else."
"There's nobody's hung like that black cat," Ginger said.
"Oh, yes, there is. I'll be right back." He went into the other bedroom.
Karen patted the bed. "Sit next to me, Laurie. Do you mind?"
"No, I don't mind," she said, sitting on the bed.
"I can't get over the sheen in your hair," Karen said, stroking. "And it's so silky. Mmmmmm, that's nice."
Irish Bob dialed the Sandpiper and John answered. "Hello, Nick?"
"Nick's out, sweetie. What can I do for you?"
"Hi, John. This is Irish Bob. Where's your brother?"
"Who knows? Out balling some chick's brains out, I guess."
"My boy didn't show up today, and I need him to shoot some sex scenes. You busy?. "
"What's the scene, baby."
"Two girls."
"Not me, daddy. I can't get up for a perversion gig."
"Two hundred bucks. Two hours work. That's not bad, John."
"Don't need the bread, man. Got bread coming out of my ass."
"What about for old time's sake, then? I've spent a small fortune in your place."
"How about this, mother? One 'C' note and a five-minute blow job. I've been aching to shove Homer between those chubby little cheeks of yours."
"Yeah, you say five minutes, and the next thing I know I'm piled up in the hospital with a busted rectum from that side of beef you call little Homer. No way, baby. But I'll do this. Two hundred for today, and next month I'll star you in the biggest, all-color, stereophonic sound, 35mm fag flick ever made on the face of the earth. I'm even flying in talent from New York City. What do you say?"
"Give me ten minutes." He hung up.
Irish Bob walked back into the other room, and Karen had removed Laurie's bikini top and was gobbling her young tits like ice cream cones. "Hey, hey, hey! How many times do I have to tell you? Don't fondle the guests!"
"But I don't mind," Laurie said as she stroked the slim back of her new found friend.
"Karen, don't you ever get tired?"
"No, and besides, my shrink told rne to keep doing it till I got it out of my system."
"And just when did he tell you that?"
"About six years ago."
"Whew! Okay, let's get to work. My boy is coming right over, so let's take the first shots. Get your clothes on."
"Can she do it with us?" Karen asked, slipping into her hose and garter belt.
"No, Karen," Laurie said. "My father sees a lot of these things, and it would be pretty embarrassing for him if I showed up in one."
"Come on, Ginger, get your mind on the business. The blue robe, remember?"
"It's always this same shitty blue robe. Why don't you pry yourself loose from a few dollars and buy us some new threads?"
"Okay, get under the covers. All the way. Now remember, we're going to do the voice-over later, but you have to say the words so we can match it." He turned on the Eclair on the tripod after flipping on the lights. Laurie covered her eyes and watched from behind the camera. "Okay, pick up the book. Flip through the pages. Tilt it a little this way so we can see the pictures. That's right. Now, slowly slide your hand under the covers. Now, play with your cunt. React! Look, you're getting turned on. Good, good, now press a little harder. A little more. Fine. Now turn the page with your tongue. That's good. Lick your lips. Lick your hand. No, not that hand. Your other hand. Okay, put it back under the covers. Coming back. Walk in Karen. Give your line."
"Hi, Mary. The door was open so I just let myself in."
"Oh, you startled me! I didn't hear you."
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Sure, just lazy."
"What are you reading?"
"Nothing. Jerry left it last night. It's just a book."
"May I see it?"
"Oh, you don't want to sec it. It's kind of pornographic."
"Let me decide that for myself, Mary." She plopped on the bed, showing the lop of her stockings.
"That's good," Irish Bob said. "Pick up the book. Look a little shocked. Turn to another page. Open your eyes wider. Line."
"Hey, you're right, this stuff is pretty strong. I haven't seen anything like this since before I was married. It sort of takes your breath away, doesn't it?"
"Not only that, it makes me horny. It makes me want to touch somebody."
"Do you want to touch me, Mary?"
"Oh, yes!"
"I want you to." The girls kiss.
"Oh, I've wanted to do that for a long time."
"I did, too, but I was afraid you didn't want to."
"What are we waiting for?! " Ginger threw back the covers, exposing her pussy. Irish Bob zoomed in for a tight shot as Karen pulled open the lips and began lapping her cunt.
John Mykonas walked in, and Irish Bob motioned for him to be quiet. Silently he started stripping.
"Do you like it when I kiss you there, Mary."
"Oh, yes, but stop. I want to get your clothes off so I can make love to you for a while."
Irish Bob pulled back as Ginger removed Karen's dress, bra, and panties, leaving her stockings and garter belt on. The two girls fondled and kissed each other all over, winding up in a sixty-nine position. Karen was on top, and she looked at the book and ate pussy at the same time.
"Mary?"
"Yes, Sarah?"
"Is Paul as big as the fellow in this book?"
"Uh huh."
"Simon isn't. I sure would like to feel something that big inside me."
"Well, why don't you come over some night when Paul's here. He'd love to make love with you."
"Gee, that sounds good. When could we do it?"
"How about now?" John said, walking right up to Ginger's face, almost touching her with his dong, which hung almost to his knee.
"God damn!" Ginger exclaimed. "Take a look at the club on that boy!"
"Cut!"
"Jesus Christ, fella," she said, instinctively reaching out and touching his super-cock, "where the hell did you get that thing?"
"Yellow pages."
"How long is it when it's hard?" Karen asked, eyes much wider open than they were in the scene she just played.
"I don't know. Whenever it gets hard, it uses so much blood I pass out." Everybody laughed.
"Okay, okay, very funny dialogue; but unfortunately I can't use it in my film. So Ginger, if you'll just let go of that monster, well finish the scene."
"Let go! Honey, I'm in love!"
"Sorry, little girl," John said, "but I'm as queer as a four-humped camel."
She let go. "I knew it was too good to be true! I just knew it! The, way my luck's been running, if I opened a funeral parlor, everyone would quit dying."
"Let's take it from your last line, Karen. Ginger you answer with, 'I think that's him now', and John, all you have to do when they ask you a question is agree with them. And put your socks back on. What do you think this is, an art film? Places, everybody. Rolling the camera. Action. Give your line, sweetheart."
"Gee, that sounds good. When could we do it?"
"Hey, I think that's him, now! Get under the covers and pretend you're asleep!" Karen ducked under the covers and shut her eyes.
"Go, John." John enters.
"Hi, darling," Ginger said, going to him and putting her arms around him. "Did you have a busy day at the office."
"Yes."
She wiped her forehead. "Golly, it sure is a hot day. Is that why you took off all your clothes?" Yes.
"Well, uh ... Sarah's here. See her sleeping in our bed."
"Uh huh."
"She and Simon had this big fight, and maybe you should try to cheer her up."
"Okay."
"Move onto the bed, John. That's right. Freeze right there!" Irish Bob shut off the camera and picked up the other Eclair and turned it on. "Now, pull back the covers slowly. No, don't look at me! Look at her. She's beautiful. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Pretend she's a dude! Rub her stomach very gently. That's right. Honey, don't open your eyes, but move your ass a little like you're having a sex dream. Good, very good. Coming around for another angle. Don't look up, John. Open your legs so we can see your cock. Now, kiss her. Fake it if you like, but make it look real." John leaned over and pressed his cheek against Karen's. The back of his head covered the shot. "Good, now hold that. Wake up, Karen. Slowly. Put your arm around him. Run your fingers through his hair. Good. Start to hunch, baby. Find his cock with your other hand. Perfect! Fuck her fist, John. Come on, baby, get it up. Pretend, John. Think about the prettiest cat you ever balled. That's a good boy. Swipe a little juice from your cunt, Karen, to lube him up. That's it. Up and down and up and down. Not too fast. Hunch, sweetheart." He swung the camera around. "I'm on you now, Ginger. Breathe a little faster-the scene is really turning you on. Let your hands move like they had minds of their own. One on the nipple. Make it hard. Good, good. The other in the snatch. Dig a little deeper. Fine, now slide onto the bed. I got you covered. Keep jerking, Karen. Move between her legs, Ginger. Stick out your tongue and lightly trace her slit. Back and forth. That's right. Okay, John, you're going to Ginger's cunt. Take your hand away, sweetheart. Slowly spin around, John. I can see your face now, Karen. Let's hear some moans and see some ecstatic expressions. Okay, John, head down and cock pointing at the ceiling. Very nice. Go down on him, Karen. Eat him alive, sweetheart. Pretend, John. Eat a little faster, Ginger. Bury your face in her pussy, John. All I've got is the back of your head, so keep your mouth shut so you don't gag. Ginger, let's see some hip action. Okay, everybody, we're going home. A little faster. A little more action. Faster. Faster. Faster. HIT IT!"
The three bodies flailed in wild abandon. Karen tickled John's balls, sucked as hard as she could on his glans penis, and he shot off like a skyrocket. He lost all control and his bones rattled around in jelly-like flesh, like those of a man sitting in an electric chair. He was out of his mind. Everything went haywire; his mouth swung open and he rammed his tongue so far into Ginger's cunt that she swore she could feel him licking the lining of her stomach. Not expecting anything at all, his torrid tongue totally surprised her into the biggest climax of her life, and she nearly bit off the tip of Karen's clit, sending her screaming into orgasmic oblivion. Unable to swallow John's load before she was hit, Karen sprayed the camera lens with his come when this guttural roar erupted from the pit of her stomach. She immediately grabbed his tree with both hands, took the top six inches into her mouth and sucked so hard John envisioned his whole body rushing into her mouth like a soda through a straw. He shot another load: a feat he had never accomplished before, nor even thought possible. The second his lips touched Ginger's clit, she was hit by a succession of machine-gunlike orgasms and transmitted the same sensation into Karen by reaming the walls of her cunt with her tongue. Karen tried for more, sucking even harder, but the cupboard was bare; and John let out a blood-curdling scream, tore himself from Karen's lips, rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a loud crash.
All you could hear now were weak moans and heavy breathing. Karen toppled over, and when she smiled jism rolled out of the side of her mouth and down her rosy cheek. Ginger lay on her back like a decked heavyweight. Slowly, she managed to cover her face with her arm and began to weep.
"Cut! That was pretty good, kids. Take five."
Laurie's head snapped back when Irish Bob spoke. It was as though she were awakened from a deep trance, and she wondered what had become of her bikini bottoms, and why her hands were so wet.
"Queer mother-fucker!" Ginger said, as the tears streamed down her face.
"Perverts!" John shouted from the floor. He tried to wipe the foul taste from his mouth with the bedspread. He wiped and spat and wiped again, but it didn't help.
"Isn't it disgusting?" asked the eighty-year-old white-haired lady, sitting next to Billy Black on the bench.
"Positively. Sometimes I get so upset about it I can't speak."
"Well, it's certainly refreshing to hear you say that, young man. Most of the young people these days are so wild and foolish they can't see the forest for the trees."
"You're absolutely right, ma'am. By the way, what are you talking about?"
"All these naked animals, for God's sake! Just look at 'em! They have no shame. Showing their organs and doin' intimate things to each other in front of little children. Do you know what that hairy gorilla did to me this morning?"
"No, but it sounds exciting."
"He shit in his hand and threw it on me, that's what he did!"
"I see," Billy said, turning his head to keep from laughing in the woman's face.
"I spent my life's savings on clothes for these thankless devils, and do you think they appreciated it?"
"Did they?"
"No, they didn't. Tore 'em off as fast as I put 'em on. Then I decided to sew 'em right onto their skin, and that was workin' fine until some men came and put me away. Nobody cares anymore." There was a pause. "Nobody cares anymore!"
"You said that."
"Just look at her, the shameless hussy."
"Who?" '
"That monkey up there. She's flirtin' with you, can't you tell? Let her out of that cage and in five minutes she'd tear all your clothes off."
Billy looked across the path at the huge monkey cage. There were about two hundred of them, swinging and running, vying for food from the people clustered around the cage. All seemed to be caught up in the spirit of the game, except one lone monkey who sat high in the cage, looking down on Billy and the old lady. She was absent-mindedly fingering her navel; when Billy looked up at her, she quickly glanced away.
"Now the little bitch is playing hard to get. I'll see you later." The little old lady sprang to her feet and almost fell down.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to report her to the zookeeper. Did you hear that, you little slut?" she shouted to the monkey, cupping her hands around her mouth. "It's a sad day when a good-lookin' young fella like you can't go to the zoo without bein' made eyes at by an oversexed simian." She toddled away.
Billy laughed till he cried, and his response brought a high-pitched, laugh-like chattering from the monkey; but again, as soon as he looked up at her, she became silent and looked away. Then the game of who-can-catch-who-looking-at-who began; soon man and beast were staring at each other, and Billy could actually feel communication flowing between them.
"It's ridiculous," he said, walking to a vendor from whom he purchased a bag of grapes. He fed the other monkeys, but kept tabs on her behavior out of the corner of his eye. For half an hour she kept a distance of about fifteen feet between them; but when Billy reached through the bars to pat one of the monkeys on the head, she attacked her adversary and threw the surprised victim to the other side of the cage. She then planted her feet firmly on the ground, stretched her arms out to Billy; and (looking a great deal like Jolson getting ready to break into a few bars of Mammy) she began smacking her lips together. There was so much emotion in her action, Billy wished he could walk through the bars and quiet her with a hug.
He started to move away, but she grabbed his sleeve through the bars and looked up at him with the most beseeching eyes he had ever seen on a female, regardless of her species. Patting her hand tenderly, he spoke to her quietly and offered her some grapes. Pained that he would think that she had the same needs as the others, she threw them away, but quickly forgave him for his faux pas, and placed his hand on her heart. It was beating furiously.
Her child came up to her and tried to climb onto her back, but a well-phrased screech sent it scurrying. Then came her mate, who tried to bite Billy's hand; but she prevented that mishap by getting him in a half-nelson and beating his head against the concrete side of the cage. A little dazed, but still filled with jealousy, the rejected mate continued to try to separate his woman from her new suitor; but the loving couple, tripping on each other's look and touch, completely ignored him. He took Billy's bag of grapes and went away.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and they were soon chatting quite naturally with one another, like a mate visiting his lover in jail. They paid no attention to the other people and monkeys, who responded to this strange alliance with a variety of emotions, ranging from alarm to titillation.
Billy returned to his car and got a motel room nearby. He was with his new girlfriend every minute of the visiting hours for the next ten days, and their relationship grew and flowered. Marks on her face and body told Billy that she was being sorely punished by her irate husband "in his absence, but she never complained, nor tried to hide her feelings for Billy in her mate's presence. They couldn't go on this way, Billy thought toward the end of the tenth day. He had to get her out of there.
"Am I to understand you clearly, Mr. Black? You wish to purchase one of our monkeys?" The zookeeper had a curious arch in his right eyebrow as he spoke.
"Yes, sir. I've become quite fond of her, and I'd like to take her back to L.A. with me."
"One particular monkey, you say?"
"Yes, sir. She's medium height, good build, graceful stature, easily the most attractive one in the cage."
"Uh huh. Out of a culture of almost two hundred monkeys, you have absolutely no trouble recognizing her?"
"No sir, none at all."
"And out of the millions of visitors that pass through these gates, you say that she has no trouble recognizing you?"
"We're quite close."
"I see. You have stated her on your application that you feel she is in danger here."
"Absolutely. You see, when I leave, her husband beats her. He's a cowardly little devil. He won't confront me with the problem anymore, but takes his frustrations out on her. Probably at night when she's asleep."
"There is also the matter of a child, I understand."
"Well, I think that should be my responsibility. I think children should remain with the mother, don't you?"
"Yes, I agree." The little spectacled man spun his chair around and looked out of the window behind his desk. "Mr. Black, we sometimes release our animals if we feel it is for a good purpose; but in this case I'm afraid there is no reason for it."
"I know you should be repaid for whatever you have invested, and I'm perfectly willing to do that. Say, five hundred dollars?"
"Money is not an issue in this matter, Mr. Black. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"I don't think you realize how important this is to me, sir.
"That is not an issue, either, I'm afraid."
"And that is your final word."
"Yes. Good day."
"Now, you listen to me, you four-eyed, sawed-off cocksucker, I'm taking her out of here if I have to cut my way through those fucking bars to do it!" Billy started climbing over the desk to get at the man, who pulled open a drawer, removed a gun and shook it nervously in his face.
"Don't you come any closer! I get all the nuts in the state of California in this office. If it's not an old woman pressing charges against a gorilla, it's one of you goddamned perverts wanting to elope with a monkey. Now get out of here, and don't come back!" Billy walked toward the door. "Believe me, Mr. Black, these things never work out," he said with compassion. "I know. I had an affair with a lovely chimpanzee I met in West Africa. We had three beautiful years, but the differences in our backgrounds finally caught up with us. She ran away with her third cousin, and I've been searching for her ever since." He turned back to the window and looked out in the distance. "Maybe today a shipment will bring my beautiful Helen back to me. Can you hear me, Sweetheart? Are you ... " Billy slipped out and quietly shut the door behind him.
When he got back to the cage, she sensed that something had gone wrong. Sadly, but bravely she reached out for that final touch-that final squeezing of hands. Billy reached through the bars, pulled her to him, kissed her on the forehead and made his way back to the gates. She climbed to the highest perch in the cage, so she could keep him in her sight as long as possible. Before tripping the turnstile, Billy paused, feeling that she was looking at him. He didn't look back.
CHAPTER THREE
The Sandpiper was jumping. Dolly, looking ever so sharp in her mermaid costume, had already raked in forty dollars in tips and the night was young. The new progressive jazz combo was drawing an older crowd, who probably turned on once in a while, but had not in any way considered the desertion of Mother Booze.
"Fill that up again, sweetie!" demanded a super-slick Caesar Romero type about three drinks this side of the twilight zone. He made the gross error of placing his glass on Dolly's bare bosom, which extended over the tight, sequined garment like a landing strip for 747's.
"That's one. Do that again and you'll be wearing your next drink."
"Hey, don't you know who I am?"
"Hey, no, and believe me I couldn't care less."
"Don't you ever watch television?"
"Oh, of course. How are you, Flipper? I'll get you some raw fish."
She walked to the service bar. "Big night, baby. I don't know if it's you or the group or both," Nick said.
"Give me a Black Russian, two J.B's and soda, a martini up, and a gun for the letch with the black curly hair."
"Don't you know who he is?"
"Who the fuck cares?"
"That's Norman Ginsberg, the big TV star."
"Hooray."
"I wouldn't put him down if I were you. Johnny's had a crush on him for years, but he's straight; and if he-likes you, hell pop for two big ones without batting and eye."
"Interesting. Oh, a woman was looking for you this morning. Thomas, Thompson, something like that."
"How about Thomalson? Good looking brunette about thirty-five, lots of class, dripping with diamonds?"
"That's her. She was asking about Billy Black."
"I'll bet she was. He's been gone over a week, now. Very interesting." His brow furrowed in deep concentration.
"He must treat her very well. She was crying."
"Well? He beats her, pees in her hair, tears off her clothes in public. Is that your definition of 'well'? "
"Sounds like an SM scene."
"Not really. There are a lot of rich broads around who dig that Bogart stuff, and Billy plays the role perfectly. Oh, he's all sweetness and light in the beginning; but once they're hooked, watch out. She bought him that house. The lot is worth eighty grand. Now he's trying to dump her; but the meaner he gets, the better she-likes it. Do me a favor. Get Johnny out of here. I've got to make a phone call."
"I don't like that look in your eye, Nick."
Nick grinned. "Neither would Billy Black."
Nick went back into the apartment behind the bar and closed the door. He looked up a number in the phone book, put his handkerchief over the receiver and dialed.
"Hello," said a female voice on the other end.
"Is this Mrs. Thomalson?" he said, using his gangster accent which fell somewhere between that of Al Capone and Sophia Loren.
"Yes."
"Mrs. G. Thomalson?"
"Well, look lady, I got this creep, Billy Black, here; and he's into me for some real big dough, two thousand bananas to be exact. Anyway, we got your boyfriend up here in this cabin at Big Bear, and we've been knocking him around all week but he don't seem to want to pay us, you know; so I honed my knife down to the thickness of a super stainless razor blade, and I'm about to cut his nuts out, you know, just to teach him a lesson, when he tells me I oughtta give you a ring."
"Oh, my god, don't do that!"
"Then you'll cover his bad paper?"
"Yes, yes, anything you say."
"Okay, then listen. You put two grand in an envelope and put it in your mailbox. My man will pick it up in about an hour."
"But-but-I don't have that much cash in the house."
"Then go door to door till you get it. In your neighborhood that shouldn't take you but about fifteen minutes."
"Let me talk to him."
"I'd love to, but as soon as I pulled those red shorts off him and started nicking away on his cock, he passed out."
"Oh, no, have you ... have you cut off any?"
"Not yet, just waiting for a word from you."
"I'll do what you say ... I'll get the money somehow, only please don't hurt it ... I mean, please don't hurt him!"
"Okay, you got sixty minutes, and no cops, huh lady? If anything goes wrong, I got no choice but to carve this blue-eyed chiseler up into bite-sized pieces."
"All right, all right, no police."
"Thanks, lady. It's a pleasure doing business with you." Nick hung up and rubbed his hands together with glee. "That'll fix that bastard's wagon." He picked up his glass and toasted his reflection in the mirror on the ceiling. "To revenge. How sweet it is." He downed the drink and painfully remembered the time Billy had told him how he had conned two thousand dollars out of Nick's wife with the very same trick, only at that time, Billy pretended to be his own kidnapper on the phone.
"My wife's the best piece of ass in this world," Nick had told him one day.
"You horny Greek bastard, you wouldn't know a decent fuck if you fell over one; you're so goddamned busy looking at your own action in the mirror. Besides, I've been fucking your old lady for years now; and believe me, if it weren't for the bread, I wouldn't let her lick my ass."
Nick's marriage didn't last very long after that; and although the pain had long since left him, how sweet it was going to be to get his money back. He wrapped a scarf halfway around his face, put on his big, woolly coat, and marched out the side door and into his black Lincoln convertible in the parking lot.
Back in the bar, John was doing the best he could to handle the crowd of drinkers, considering he was still asleep. The brothers had a pact to cover for one another in case of emergency; but Nick seemed to find himself in far more matter-of-life-or-death situations than John.
"Mr. Ginsberg, I have a proposition for you," Dolly said serving him a drink she made especially for him.
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?"
"I'm not a hooker, not that it really matters one way or the other; but I need two hundred dollars very badly. Are you interested?"
"Sure, but not if it means any hassle. I don't need that. If somebody doesn't like my action, I can't get turned on no matter how much bread I lay out."
Dolly put her arms around his head and brought his nose directly between her tits, then kissed him on the forehead. "I was rude awhile ago, because I thought you were just another drunk copping a feel. If I let that kind of thing go, every dirty old man in town would be pawing me. I apologize, and if you will help me out of this little spot I'm in; I promise you will leave here tonight feeling feelings you've never felt before."
"Once I had a stewardess in a men's room at eighty thousand feet. Can you top that?"
"Mere child's play."
"Just tell me when and where."
Dolly pointed behind the bar. "Take your drink back there, and shoot a right at the first door you come to. Get completely relaxed. When the people thin out, I'll come curl your toes so badly you'll need to iron them before you'll be able to get them back into your shoes."
Norman stood up. "I miss rehearsals, I can't memorize lines, and I'm usually late getting to the set. But once I'm there, I take direction marvelously." Places, everyone.
Norman walked a very crooked line on his way to the back room. He knocked over two drinks and received a double sexual kick when he wedged himself between two friggers on the dance floor, but he made it to the back room.
The lights dimmed in the old Tijuana movie house which hadn't presented a movie on its premises since Tom Mix hung up his spurs. The scent of mildew was in the air and the pop-eyed patrons twitched nervously in the original chairs which, long ago, had had their anchoring bolts ripped through the wooden floor by overexcited onlookers.
Billy Black liked it here. Maybe it was because the Mexican people had a no-nonsense approach to sex. Maybe it was because of their readiness to sing and laugh under any conditions. Maybe it was because of the clear conscience fashion in which they bilked American tourists. Maybe it was because of the fact that Billy always consumed a pint of tequila during the first hour of each of his many visits to this country.
Earlier in the day he shared his monkey experience with two young senoritas within the confines of his bed in the El Salvador Hotel. As he expected, they fully understood his great loss and they expressed their sympathy with tearful hugs, and fervent kisses all over his body. He was equally certain that no one in the Los Angeles area would believe his story, much less give him their young, succulent, teenage bodies in an effort to divert his attention from it.
A single spot illuminated a narrow table in the center of the stage. A muscular young Mexican lad ran into the spot buck naked from the wings and took several bows, showing gleaming teeth as he grinned sheepishly at the warm response of applause and cheers. He did a few pushups on the table, and then five nude girls joined him and formed a horseshoe around him. They were all quite attractive and were probably chosen for the variety of charms they possessed: different heights, size and shapes of tits, etc.
One girl reached in and fondled his cock, while another spread his cheeks and Frenched his ass-hole. His rod sprang up almost immediately as he continued with his limbering-up exercise. The third girl climbed onto the table and slid under his bobbing body. Not causing him to miss a stroke, she reached down and rammed his cock into her. They continued to fuck while the mouths of the other girls moved up and down them, kissing and sucking their flesh. On his upswing two of the girls would dart their heads under his arms and kiss the nipples of the prone girl, who shrieked and moaned like a sex-starved housewife at her first orgy. Her jet-black hair was so long that it brushed against the floor. Whenever they walked within his range, the durable stud would turn his head to that side and send his hot, wet tongue into their receptive cunts.
Every girl had her chance on the table, and each one tried to out-scream her predecessor as they faked orgasms of gigantic proportions, each of which elicited roars of approval from all except the novices in the crowd.
When the show was over Billy Black stole backstage and rapped softly on the star's dressing room. "Jesus, baby!" Billy greeted the surprised exhibitionist in Spanish, rushing him and giving him a big hug. "Long time, no see, amigo!"
"Do I know you, mister?"
"Know me? Know your old amigo, Billy Black, after that wild night we had together in Mexico City?. "
"I'm sorry, I don't remember."
"Well, you did have a lot to drink; but I can't believe you don't remember me." Billy refused to loosen his grasp on the little fellow, and it was beginning to make him very nervous.
"Why, uh ... what can I do for you?"
"Just saw the show, and I thought you did a real fine job out there. It was sure worth the twenty dollars; but I thought if I came back here and slipped my old amigo, say a hundred dollar bill, I might really get some kicks this evening."
"Why don't you stay for another show? No charge this time," Jesus said, really struggling to free himself from Billy's embrace.
Billy was eyeball to eyeball with the younger man now. He could see the veins on his forehead begin to swell and a large dose of fear in his expression. "You've seen one show and you've seen them all, Jesus."
"Well, just what the fuck do you want, mister?"
"You just hit the nail right on the head."
About an hour later, the stage spot came on again and Billy Black greeted the new audience as he sat naked, in all of his leathery splendor, on the edge of the table, swinging his legs back and forth like a kid perched atop a stool in an ice cream parlor.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we had a little accident backstage awhile ago and our male star had to go to the hospital to get his nose set. However, the show must go on and as a personal favor to Jesus, an old pal of mine from way back, I've agreed to substitute for him. We hope our thinly-plotted little drama will please you. We haven't had any time for rehearsals but if you appreciate effort, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. By the way, my name is Billy Black, and I live in Venus, California. If any of the young ladies present would care to discuss my performance here tonight, feel free to call me."
At this point the five females converged upon Billy and began to work him over with their hands and mouths. The new leading man embarrassed them somewhat and they looked very much out of place with their giggles and blushing as they took turns sucking his cock.
Roughly pulling one of the girls on top of him, he rolled back on the table and guided his muscle into her pre-lubricated pussy. She settled down, then backed off a bit, not being used to the three-inch advantage he had over the man he replaced. He neglected her for the moment and directed his attentions to the others, entering the cunts of the two girls who stood on.either side of him with his middle fingers while massaging their clits with his thumbs.
The fourth girl was behind Billy and he motioned for her to stand over his face, which extended beyond the table, which was obviously designed for a shorter occupant. He gave her a tongue-lashing, the-likes of which she had never known. He tripped from clit-to-cunt-to-ass-hole-to-cunt-to-clit so quickly she felt she was being serviced by three tongues instead of one. Beads of perspiration formed on her little round belly and she started to hunch over that mouth from which flowed such indescribable pleasure.
The fifth girl watched for a moment, then feeling that she was missing something (while actually telling herself that if she didn't get busy, she might be fired), she sat on the stage floor and licked Billy's balls, that portion of his cock that became available when the girl fucking him moved upward, and of course, the rim of her cunt and the tempting rosebud of her ass.
"You know, we don't actually go all the way," the girl being eaten whispered breathlessly, in Spanish.
"No comprehendo," Billy said before sucking her clit into his mouth and bearing down on it with his teeth.
"Oh, shit!" came her response, this time in English. "Do it, you greengo, yankee, cunt-sucking machine!" The sweat poured from her every pore, and her face contorted into a pain/pleasure expression, and an orgasm hit her with the thrust of a charging bull. She tried to walk backwards; but Billy, applying pressure upwards with his face, bit her again, this time even harder than the first. She screamed, jumped straight up in the air, crashed on her ass on the hard stage floor, and just lay there, whimpering.
"Ole!" shouted the audience in one voice.
The two girls being finger-fucked were next. Billy dug his fingers deeply inside them, reamed every area of their cunts' silky lining, then got ah action going between his thumbs and their clits, which could only be compared to Sugar Ray Robinson pounding a speed bag. Their knees became rubber, and they would have crashed to the floor had they not reached over Billy and embraced one another. Without even thinking about it, they kissed, letting their tongues meet in the wild passion of the moment. Billy pulled himself forward and nibbled madly on all four nipples converging above him. Three lightning-quick orgasms rippled through one of the screaming girls, while her cohort was being riddled by four of them. They managed to push off, using each other for impetus, and staggered back to their dressing rooms.
"Ole!" repeated the spectators.
Fascinated by the writhing mass of humanity on all sides of her, the girl impaled upon Billy's cock and fucked by an invisible tongue from behind, had allowed herself to come dangerously close to getting her rocks off several times during the brief, but all-too-intense festivities.
Billy slowly turned his head (like an automated gun turret seeking its target) and stopped when his eyes met hers. A shudder passed over the girl, and she would have liked very much to have been in another place at that moment, for there in Billy's gaze was a clear cut pronouncement of doom-a wordless declaration that transcended ' misunderstanding no matter what the nationality of the recipient. Slowly cupping his hands around the victims trembling breasts, Billy kneaded them with increasing firmness, paying special attention to her crystallized nipples which, given voices, would have cried out in stereophonic terror.
Pulling her down to him, Billy kissed her and let his torrid tongue play about her lips and inside her helpless mouth with the freedom of a child in a playpen. Only when her passion had reached a fever pitch did he begin to move his joint within her flooding box. With muscular control completely foreign to the overheated girl, Billy rotated his cock inside her; she felt as though she were being screwed by the blade of an electric mixer, slowly churning the doughy pulp of her pussy.
She had a mild vaginal orgasm, followed by a stronger one. She sighed at the first, cried at the latter, and then got down to the serious business of actually making love to the tormenting stranger.
Billy was getting bored. He allowed her to hunch over him twice, then bucked upward, crashing into her cervix with his cock head and grinding her clitoris harshly against her pubic bone with his own. Why not? he thought to himself, then released a torrent of semen which French-fried the sensitive inner linings of her cunt as though that portion of her lovely anatomy had been dipped into a deep fat fryer.
The girl on the floor was poised and ready to plunge her tongue deep into the other girl's rectum; but when the latter cracked a mighty fart, the former frog-leapt out of the line of fire, narrowly averting what she had occupied but a split second before.
The ravished woman fell unconscious upon Billy's chest. He spun to the side of the table, planted his feet on the floor, and carried her offstage, draped over his shoulder like a lifeless sack of feed. His ears ached from the thunderous standing ovation given him by the audience-a clamor which had not decreased by the time he returned to take his curtain call. Even the remaining girl applauded, but her smile quickly let him know that his victory was less than complete.
Son of a bitch! he thought, I forgot all about that one! Billy Black, you stupid mother-fucker! continued his thinking behind a false grin of complete confidence, you're a grown man. Seems you would have learned to count to five by now.
"Thank you!" he shouted, raising his arms to quiet the appreciative throng. "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready for the big finish?"
"Yes!" they answered.
"I sure hope I am." Everyone laughed except the girl, a chubby little rascal who looked as though she were invented for the sole purpose of making love.
Billy sauntered over to her, took her hand, pulled her to a standing position and kissed her. She bit his lip hard, drawing blood. "I think the little lady-likes me," Billy said, laughing as he wiped his injured lip. The audience responded with more laughter. "Sweetheart, shall we retire to our love nest?" Billy was still smiling, but his blood was boiling; and he wished that the little bitch had bitten him in private. She, too, was smiling, too proud to show the pain she was feeling in her wrist and hand. Billy led her to the table, holding her hand even tighter, wondering why the bones weren't snapping under his vise-like grasp.
He flipped her onto the table effortlessly, then straddled her body with his own, pinning her arms to the table like a wrestler. He leaned in close to her ear.
"You hurt me," she whispered in Spanish.
"No shit?"
"No man will ever hurt me and get away with it."
"Tell me about it."
"I am not heterosexual. I am not bisexual. I am pure lesbian. No man has ever satisfied me. No man could ever satisfy me. Your touch and your sickening swagger make me want to vomit."
"What did she say?" asked one of the paying customers. "The lady just agreed to give me a blow job to get me fighting fit again!"
"Bravo," said the man.
Billy arched his body forward and swung his joint over her face. She snapped violently at it, but he had expected that reaction and swung it out of her range, narrowly avoiding certain and instant tragedy. "Kind of reminds you of that snapping turtle you had when you were a kid, doesn't it?" he said to the audience, and again they laughed.
Leaning back down to her ear, he whispered softly, "I'm going to bring my cock up to your face once more, my pretty flower, and you will suck hungrily upon it. But you will not bite me. You will love and nurture it back to health with giving lips and tongue; because if you don't, if you so much as graze the sensitive skin of my lovely cock with your teeth, I'll throw you on the floor and kick your brains out."
"I don't believe you."
"There are very few times in a person's life when they desperately need to be bright. Believe me, as far as your young life is concerned, this is one of those times." He repeated the act of bringing his organ to her face. This time she took it in her mouth and sucked lightly upon it. He concentrated, but nothing happened. He thought of all the women in his life as though he were having them all at once. Nothing. He thought of Miss Willoughby and the monkey. Nothing. He thought of the tapir and the aardvark. Still nothing. He thought of how the audience was pulling for him, and how they would cheer if he could haul this belligerent broad's ashes and suddenly he was aware of his cock in the pretty mouth of the golden-skinned girl. The nerve endings in his tool were suddenly exposed, where before had existed only dull sensation and he got a full hard-on.
Slowly, Billy Black crawled between her legs, and, with cautious precision, entered the dry, but ample opening of her cunt. Slowly, he ground his chest into and over the full, firm tits below him. Then he kissed her, and the taste of his blood excited her. Sure, it was wanton, cannibalistic excitement; but excitement can serve cross-purposes, and her vaginal juices began to lubricate the hard, driving weapon of flesh, pumping in and out of her orifice. She caught herself responding and immediately closed her mind to all thoughts of pleasure.
The old mental block trick, eh, Billy thought, biting her on the ear. She responded with another few seconds of sexual response, before again concentrating against it. She thought of all the adverse images she could conjure up: sliding naked down a razor-sharp banister, swimming naked in an ice-encrusted waters brimming with man-eating fish.
Billy moved south and lapped the global circumference of her titties. She secreted a little more moisture below, and Billy made his move. Harder and deeper he plunged his determined tool into her receptacle. With gathering force he nibbled at her nipples, and they began to lose their softness. She was tired and started to relax, but that frightened her into new bursts of energy. The momentum increased. Every member of the audience could hear the sloshing sound of cock in pussy, and they experienced the kind of tension one feels at a championship fight.
Biting harder now, striking deeper into her snatch with every thrust, Billy was aware of what was happening to her every nerve ending. He knew she was as close as she could get. She was breaking down; and when she whimpered, he got both of her nipples in his mouth at the same time and clamped his teeth around them. At the same time, he pushed forward with all his might, striking the deepest boundary of her cunt, and trapping her clit between solid bones, the way he had done to her predecessor. Nothing happened. He put his full weight against her clit. She reacted only by staring directly into his eyes with a look of pure contempt.
Billy pulled her into his arms; and using strength from some unknown source, he stood up on the table. His dick throbbed inside her, and neither was sure that it wasn't going to run right through her and out of the small of her back. She tightened her legs around his waist to relieve the pressure, and Billy looked into her eyes with pure adoration and flooded her pussy with hot come. As the excess squirted out the sides of her cunt and down Billy's legs, a premature wave of applause rippled through the audience. She was hanging on by a thread and she knew it, but it was enough. The last crisis had been met, and she laughed. This beautiful girl actually laughed at Billy Black.
Billy made a beautiful swan dive from the table, and his dick was almost out of her when her ass hit the floor with a thunderous bang, and needless to say, the gap between them was swiftly closed.
"Precious Jesus!" she screamed. "Holy Mary, Mother of God! OOOOOH YEEEEEEES!"
Women react in a variety of ways upon experiencing their first orgasm with a man. This girl was cold-cocked-as stunned as a man with a bullet in his brain. Billy withdrew and helped her to her feet. She was still smiling as they bowed into a shower of flying hats. But when Billy whisked her back into the dressing room, she became fully aware of what had happened.
"You feelthy, dick sucking, motherfucking shit! You've robbed me of my virginity, and I'm going to keel you!" She hit him once with her hairbrush, opening a cut on his forehead. Billy hit her once on the chin with his fist. She lost and lay down to quiet dreams.
"My son, my son!" screamed the fat owner of the theater, stepping over his fallen employee and embracing Billy. "Name your figure. Such a fucking thing I have never seen in my life! The people are throwing money on the stage. Lots of money. You will stay and perform again, yes?"
"No."
"But why?"
Billy pushed him into the corner, and he fell on his broad butt. "Fuck the money! Fuck your performers, fuck your patrons, and fuck you, you spic prick! I'm going somewhere where I'm appreciated!"
Billy pulled on his sombrero with a huff and stomped out the side door and into the alley, where he was detained for thirty minutes by autograph hounds, none of whom noticed he was naked.
Norman Ginsberg thought he was dreaming. Moments after lying upon the satin-covered bed in the small apartment in the Sandpiper, he dropped off to sleep. The coolness and lush sounds around him, plus that last big martini, proved to be too much for him.
His unconscious mind created characters to match the stimulus which was being enacted upon him. He was floating high in the sky and passed a cloud on which were perched three beautiful women. He began to swim through the air; and after banking into a wide left turn, swooped down upon them and landed in their midst. One of the ladies was his first wife, the other was his second wife; and although he knew he had never seen the third gorgeous creature, she was strangely familiar.
"Hello, darling," said his ex-wives simultaneously, "we've been waiting for you."
"Yeah, I'll bet you have. What's the matter, didn't the checks come this month?"
"That doesn't matter," they said, smiling.
Norman looked over the edge of the cloud. He wanted to jump, but felt that his power to fly had left him, and he was shaking with fear. "I mailed them-both of them! Really I did! There is a mail strike going on, you know. Did you ever think of that? Did you ever think you ever think you might not have gotten yo ... your che ... checks because of the mail strike?" He felt trapped and unable to defend himself.
"Don't be silly," cooed his first wife. "We don't care about the money anymore. Linda and I got together and decided we wanted to do something for you."
"Yeah, I'll bet you did," he stammered, looking down. "Like push me off this fucking cloud!"
"No, sweetheart," Linda said, reaching out to touch his face. "Rita and I decided that our hounding you for the money was just a cover-up."
"Don't touch me! Please don't touch me!" She lowered her hand.
"If that's what you want. We decided that we were both still in love with you, and we only want you to be happy." She slipped her gossamer gown over her shoulders and revealed her milky-white, perfectly shaped breasts, that hung like two magnificent, pear-shaped diamonds. His dreams had often been haunted by Linda's breasts. "You used to like my boobies. Do you still feel the same way?"
Norman's heart began to beat wildly in his chest, and he wanted very much to touch those comely orbs and kiss their smiling faces once again. "Yes, I guess I always will."
"And how about these, Norman," Rita extended her legs to him and lightly stroked his thigh with her foot. "Remember these?" She pulled her gown up to her waist.
Norman had spent many hours mesmerized by Rita's legs. Nowhere in art or his living experience had he ever seen any to match them. They were well-formed and smooth: moreover, the muscles of the thighs and calves had the lusty conditioning of those belonging to young swimmers. As he had always done in the past, his eyes began at the feet and followed upward to the baby-fine hair of her sex. "How could I forget, Rita? You have the greatest set of pins in captivity. Amend that, since you are no longer in captivity."
"We talked about these things, Linda and I, and we came up with a solution to all your problems. Look," she said, pointing to the third woman.
"My name is Dolly."
"Well, of course, I knew I recognized you, but ... but you're different."
"That's because I gave her my eyes," Rita said. "And my lips," Linda said.
'That's right," Norman said in disbelief. "How did you do that?"
" 'Why?' is the proper question, Norman," Rita said. "We did it because we love you; and your happiness means more to us than anything on this earth."
"Well, I'll be damned! Thanks. Thank you both. That's very nice."
"And there's more. Show him, Dolly."
Dolly stood directly in front of him and slowly pulled her gown off over her head. Norman's eyes grew as big as platters as he realized that she had Linda's jugs and Rita's legs. "That's faaantaaastic!"
Rita and Linda stood up. "Well leave you two together, now," Linda said.
"But ... I mean, maybe she doesn't want to."
"Oh, I want to, my darling," Dolly said, putting her arms around him and lowering herself into his lap. "I've been hopelessly in love with you since the first lime I saw you on television. Take me, my love. All of me. Make love to me." She kissed him wantonly and his hands traveled over her lovely body, joyously touching every inch of her enchanting flesh.
He suddenly felt very guilty and looked up but the other two women were gone, and the guilt disappeared as quickly as it came. "Are you sure you love me? You're not playing a cruel joke on me, are you?"
"Does this feel like a joke? She kissed his neck, shoulders, chest and stomach. She held his erected cock in her hand and looked up at him. "I love you, Norman. I am yours to do with as you see fit for as long as you want me." With that she slowly licked a love-drop from his throbbing tool and swallowed it, showing great approval of the taste. She then captured the head of his rod with her mouth and bobbed up and down, sending chills all over his body.
"Oh, Dolly that feels so great! Don't stop. Take it all, baby. Oh, shit!" He woke up as he had so many times in the past, just as he was about to come. Only this time was a little different. He was wide awake. He knew that, yet the sensation remained, and it was just as strong as in the dream.
"Dolly? Dolly, are you here?" he said into the pitch blackness of the room.
"Good morning," she said in her sexiest tone. "You woke up just at the right time."
Norman pulled his hair as hard as he could in reaction to the gigantic orgasm which bombarded his body. The come gushed up from his bursting nuts like oil through a wildcat rig. He almost passed out again, and in his semi-consciousness he saw Linda's corpulent lips, and he was crawling between them. His head became as sensitive as the head on his cock. She sucked with such loving force that the come in his balls reversed its course and spurted from his mouth into hers.
He reached down and pulled Dolly's head to his and kissed her for a long time.
"I ... I thought you were going to suck my insides out, baby! Wow, what a way to wake up!"
"Why, I think you actually liked it, Norman."
"Liked it? Sweetheart, you suck the meanest cock in town. Town, hell! You go down groovier than any chick in the world as far as I'm concerned!"
"Oh, come on, you're making fun of me."
"No shit, baby."
"You mean of all the stage struck teenyboppers and the multitude of depraved young divorcees, you'd pick my blow job over them all?"
"It's no contest. For my money you're the greatest."
"Why, thank you, Norman. I really appreciate that. Speaking of money. Do you mind? I'm late."
"Sure, sure. Where's the light?"
Dolly flipped on the light. Norman looked down and saw his limp cock dripping aftermath onto his expensive black silk trousers. "Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I should have taken your pants off."
"It's no big thing, love. Just a few drops." He grinned. "What do you suppose happened to the rest of it?" Dolly blushed. "Come on, you little rascal, tell me. Where did it go?
"You know," she answered sheepishly. "Down that lovely throat of yours, maybe?" he teased, touching her throat and the tops of her tits. "Maybe."
"Come here, you big flirt." Norman pulled her back to him and started to unzip the back of her costume but she stopped him. "No, Norman, I've got to go. My husband will come looking for me."
"Well, what's another husband, more or less. I want a little nookie."
"He's awful big."
"How big?"
"Seven feet big."
"I just lost a perfectly good hard-on and fear it may never return again." They both laughed. "What's he do?"
"He's trying out for the Lakers. It's been kind of tough lately but we've got our fingers crossed."
"What's his name?"
"Horton. Dick Horton."
"Look, you know I can't promise anything, but I've had a lot of their coaches on my show. How close is he to making the team?"
"Hell never get Chamberlain's spot, but he and a fellow named Chucker Jackson are fighting over the second team center position."
"Jackson. Chucker Jackson," Norman mused. "I'll have the staff do a little research on him. Might find a weakness. In the meantime, I'll put in a good word for your old man. If they're still undecided, a little PR might tip the scales a little."
"That sounds great! Hey, I've got to go."
"Sure, baby, here." He fished two hundred-dollar bills out of his pocket and handed them to her. "Chucker Jackson. I heard something about him. What the hell was it? Oh, well., it will come to me. You going to be working here for a while?"
"Yeah."
"Well, if you split, be sure to tell Nick or Johnny where you are. I want to keep in touch. We pick up a lot of shit putting together the talk show, so don't run away."
"I won't," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, Norman."
"Hey, thank you! You got a lot of talent right there," he said, touching her lips. "If you ever turn out, I want to be the first to know."
"It's a deal. Good night." She kissed him and left.
The beach air felt good, and she kicked off her shoes and waded in the water. "Oh, that's nice," she said. The tiredness began to leave her aching arches, and she considered tearing off her costume and going skinny-dipping in the moonlight. When she reached up to pull off her panties, her hand grazed over her wet crotch; and for the first time since the scene with Norman, she realized that she was horny. She slipped her shoes back on and ran home.
"What ... honey, is that you?" Dick said, waking up.
"It better be me," Dolly said, pulling his limp cock out of her mouth.
"Hey, whatcha doing?"
"Hey, I'm eating you, that's what."
"Not tonight, baby, please. I've got to be on the floor at eight in the morning ready to go all day. They're really shooting at us, baby. Jackson's a big strong boy, but I've been keeping up with him every inch of the way. I swear those coaches are just going to push us till one of us drops dead."
"I made a lot of money tonight," she said proudly.
"Tell me about it in the morning, sweetheart. I gotta crash." He rolled over and fell back to sleep.
Dolly lit a cigarette and yanked down her zipper in anger.
Fingers had dozed off for a moment behind the mirror; but when she pried her delicious-looking tits out of the tight-fitting costume, he came awake with a jolt, fell off his orange crate, and bashed his head on the floor. He climbed back on, and spittle drooled from the toothless side of his mouth as Dolly threw her garment to the floor and walked right up to the mirror, stark naked.
She just stood there, inches from the old man's popping eyes, rubbing her huge jugs where the costume had pinched their undersides. Fingers' pudding started to creak up like a mortally wounded snake, straining every fiber in its body to make one last strike before dying.
Dolly's hand wandered down between her legs; and finding her slit liquid-ready, she teased her clit, flicking at it ever so lightly with her nails.
"Fuck you!" she said, after a moment.
Fingers was certain that she was speaking to him, and he rared backwards, busting the back of his head against a supporting two-by-four.
Dolly ran to the closet and slipped on a pair of Levis, a sweater and her thongs. She then quickly flipped off the light and quietly slipped out the front door.
"Horseshit!" Fingers moaned as his cock fell asleep in his hand. "Jist when it wuz gittin' good."
Cussing all the way, he crawled out of the cubicle and staggered to the bathroom, where he applied first aid to his cuts and bruises.
There were no lights in Nick's house, an old two-story, pink stucco job that had been a brothel par excellence, back in the thirties when Venus had been the playground of all Southern California. Dolly decided to go back home, and then she banged on the door and beat her thong against the front window.
Five minutes later a light came on and Nick slowly opened the front door, hair mussed, and wearing an old, tattered terry cloth bathrobe. "Who is it?" he asked as though asleep on his feet. "DoUy."
"Come in, kid," he said, dropping his sleeping routine. She entered and he shut the door. "I'm sorry if I woke you.
"Don't be silly. I just got home. Thought you might be the wrong people." He threw off his robe, revealing the fact that he was fully-clothed underneath. His pants legs were up around his knees, and he pulled them down and tried to get his hair back into shape with his hands. "Sweetheart, I just pulled the biggest caper of my life. I got Billy Black by the balls and squeezed as hard as I could."
"Oh, is he here? I'd like to meet him."
"No, he isn't here. I was speaking figuratively, but I got him! Wham! After all these years, I finally got him back. Look at me-I'm shaking like a leaf!"
"What did you do?"
"I'll tell you when you're older. Just enjoy it with me, okay? Let's get stoned or loaded or something. Let's run to Santa Monica on the beach naked!"
"That sounds groovy, but I got to get back home."
"What did you come over for?"
"Uh, cigarettes. Have you got an extra pack of cigarettes?"
"Sure, here." He handed them to her. "How did it go tonight?"
"Great. They jammed the place until closing. My aching feet and all that. Well, I gotta go."
"Sure, kid," he said, giving her a peck on the forehead. "See you tomorrow."
"Oh, Nick, there was one more thing."
"What's that?"
"Would it be all right with you if I put my hands around that unbelievable joint of yours and shoved it into my hot, wet cunt? "
Nick looked at her cockeyed for a second, then grinned. "Yes, ma'am! That would be more than all right. That would be a gas!"
He put his arm around her waist and led her upstairs to his bedroom. The house was beautifully decorated in a Spanish motif: heavy, hand-carved furniture, lots of wrought iron and exposed old brick, all very masculine.
"John decorate your place?"
"No, thank you. He's still pouting about it, but fuck him. Being a brother to a sugar box is one thing, living in one is something else again."
"You and he get along well, don't you?" Dolly asked, slipping out of her clothes and sprawling across the deep red spread on the huge bed.
"Perfect. Funny, for the most part, I can't bear fags, and yet Johnny is a screaming queen, and I love him and wouldn't change him for the world."
"Did you and he ever ... I shouldn't ask that."
"Sure, we fooled around when we were kids. Who doesn't? But I guess I grew out of that stage and he didn't." He dropped his shorts and lay down beside her. "This little Mexican girl fucked me nearly out of my mind on my fourteenth birthday, and I've been in love with pussy ever since."
Dolly found his cock with one hand and ran the fingers of the other one over his hairy, well-proportioned chest. "Well, I'm sorry that it's not your birthday or anything, but I've got a very hungry pussy, and I would certainly enjoy your fucking me nearly, if not completely, out of my mind right now."
He kissed her for a long time; and she jerked softly at his dick, running her fingers up the underside tract to produce the lubricating fluid which rolled out of the top. She then smeared it lightly over the head of his cock, and it came up hard as a baseball bat.
"I want to make you feel good, Dolly. I want to eat you.
"No, not now. Maybe later if you still feel like it. I want to feel you inside of me, Nick. AH of you. Fuck me, Nick. Please fuck me."
He fucked her. It was a long, slow, sweat-producing session of straight, man-on-top-of-woman sexual intercourse. And he filled her cunt like it had never been filled before. He loved her tenderly. She hadn't expected that. They fucked like a man and a woman who had been fucking all their life together.
"Darling Nick, oh yes, darling!" she said, hitting one of her many orgasms.
"Hey, baby, you sure know what you're doing! Wow, I love that, Angel!" he said when she tightened her cunt muscles around his cock so hard he knew he wouldn't be able to withdraw at that moment if he were torn away from her with a crane.
Seemingly only minutes afterwards (could two hours really have passed? they both thought later, squinting at the clock in the bright sunlight) Nick looked into her eyes, and his whole body seemed to explode as he flooded her with an almost endless torrent of his seed. His cock contracted as it pumped out the last drops and every time he moved, she squeezed him with all her might.
They lay still for a long time, holding each other as tenaciously as drowning swimmers clinging to a piece of debris.
"How much did you make tonight?" he asked, wanting to break the spell, wanting to come back to reality.
"Well, let's see. Ninety-two dollars in tips."
"Hey, that's great! Easily the most any girl ever made in that room."
"Plus the ten bucks you owe me for the shift. That makes one-o-two."
"You wouldn't consider waiving that in lieu of what just transpired here ... ? "
"Kiss my ass," she said, laughing.
"No, I didn't think you would."
"Then there's the two hundred from Ginsberg. That makes three-o-two."
Nick pulled out of her and rolled over on his back. His hand was shaking as he lit a cigarette. "You made it with Norman, tonight?" he asked coolly.
"Last night."
"Okay, tonight, last night, what the fuck difference does it make!" His anger was apparent. "What are you getting hot about?"
"Who's hot? I'm not hot. What makes you think I'm hot?"
"Well, for starters there's the fact that you have lit the filter tip of your cigarette and haven't even noticed it yet."
Nick threw the cigarette out on the balcony near the bed. "Well, what do you expect! A cat just finishes making love ... yeah, I'll say it ... making about the sweetest love he's ever made with a chick; and she ups and tells him he's just sampled sloppy seconds. You don't know the first fucking thing about the male ego, do you?"
"But you told me I'd be a fool to pass it up."
"That was be fore ... sure, I said it, but I didn't think you'd fuck him."
"I didn't fuck him."
"But you said-"
"All he wanted was a blow job."
"Yeah, that's the way a woman's mind works. Whatever they figure is giving themselves makes it so. If they think balling is the real them, then it's okay to blow every pecker that gets within the range of their mouth; and if oral sex is their bag, they can ball with a conscience as clear as water."
"You asked me how much I made, so I told you. You want to hear the rest?"
"There's more?"
"Yeah, I got another two hundred from John. That makes a grand total of five hundred two dollars, plus change. Not too bad for a night's work, eh, kid rocks?"
"Wait a minute, what did Johnny give you two hundred bucks for?"
"For eating Norman, silly. It was a kind of finder's fee."
Nick stared at her in disbelief. "YouVe putting me on."
"Not in the least. I told Norman to go to the back room, and I'd join him later. He did, and immediately fell to sleep, because I gave him a triple-whammy of a martini. John and I go in, turn off the lights, unzip his fly and put our heads together; only John eats him and I talk to him when he wakes up. I had to pinch John to let him know when I'm going to talk. John sucks him off, and he's screaming like a stuck pig while John is scoffing down his load. Then John slides under the bed, and I turn on the lights."
"Wow! That's a mind blower!"
"You're close."
"I can't believe it. And Norman really dug it, huh?"
"Said it was the best blow job he ever got in his life. He's happy. John's happy. And I'm just thrilled about it. I didn't tell you I was service oriented, did I?"
Nick laughed so hard tears came to his eyes. "And I thought I pulled the biggest caper of the night! Baby, you are too much!"
"I know. I've known that for a long time." She kissed him, and they rolled around on the bed for a while before he sent her downstairs to fix his breakfast.
CHAPTER FOUR
Irish Bob's nightmare had followed the same pattern every night since Laurie had moved in with him. Sitting atop a red satin pillow, wearing sultan's clothes, he was being fed huge chunks of lobster and morsels of sliced pheasant from the lovely fingertips of Laurie, dressed in see-through harem pajamas. When he was stuffed to his limit, she danced for him, seductively removing each piece of her clothing so that when she was finished and stood naked over him, her lovely body sleek with perspiration, Irish Bob had worked himself into a mass of palpitating desire.
Slowly removing his garments, Laurie would then fall upon him; and their sweat and heartbeats would intermingle as she hovered teasingly over his rigid cock, then collapsed upon it, taking it into the deepest recesses of her pussy.
She owned him now: lock, stock and single-shot rifle barrel. Then she would hunch and grind herself into him like a wild animal; and as she brought him closer and closer to an orgasm, she was transformed into a mad, frothing she-wolf with bright red hair and blood-red eyes. As the come was being flushed from his balls, she sunk her ferocious teeth into his neck and broke open his jugular vein, sending a stream of the rich, red fluid into her hungry animal mouth.
"No, I didn't do anything wrong!" Irish Bob screamed, shooting up into a sitting position on his bed, his eyes jumping open as wide as portholes. He flipped on the bedside lamp and squinted at his watch. Four a.m. Precisely the same time this phenomenon had occurred every night for the past two weeks.
The water from the cold jug in the refrigerator tasted very sweet as Irish Bob gulped it down to replace that which had rushed from his pores and soaked through pajamas and sheets all the way into the mattress. He dried his face and hair with a dish towel, sat at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette. The new water began to trace the same path through his body, and he could feel it run down his chest and congregate in a small pool over his fat belly.
Get a grip on yourself, schmuck, he thought. Shell be gone soon, and that will be that. Enjoy her while she's here, but don't even entertain the thought that you might be able to keep her. You can look, touch, even feel for a moment, but never keep. For you, this is life. It's the only one you have and will ever have, so enjoy.
The stream of light from the kitchen fell across Laurie's tender nude form. Her hair spread over the pillow like copper-colored cotton candy, and Irish Bob watched the rise and fall of her breasts, and fixed his gaze upon her nipples as he took the filter tip of his cigarette between his lips and ran his tongue around it.
"Where are you going, Daddy?" echoed his daughter's voice in his head.
"Up in the mountains, sweetheart," he had answered, fighting to hold back the tears.
"I'll come with you," she said, her big, brown eyes brightening.
"No, darling. Daddy has to go all by himself. Do what your Mommy and Frank tell you."
"I don't like him, Daddy." She threw her arms around him.
"I'm not too crazy about him myself, but that's the way it has to be. That's the way your mother wants it. I'll be back soon. I'll be back soon. I'll be back soon . ... " The words trailed off in the distance. They were spoken eight years ago, Irish Bob thought. What happened to those eight years? Nothing. Nothing happened at all.
"Hi," Laurie said, hugging Irish Bob's head to her bare stomach.
"I didn't mean to wake you. I should have turned off the light," he said, snapping out of his daydream. "Want some coffee?"
"No," she yawned. "I want to dance naked on the beach and watch the sun come up."
"So be it. You are a privileged character around here. You can set fire to the place if you like."
Irish Bob slipped on a pair of huge trunks, wrapped a robe around Laurie's shoulders, slung his Nikon around his neck; and they ran out the door and over the sand like children discovering a new world. They ran all the way to the rocks that formed a breakwater for the channel leading to the marina. By the time they reached the top of the ridge and fell exhausted upon a large flat rock, the sun was beginning to rise on the horizon.
Laurie shrugged out of her robe, and Irish Bob clicked his camera at random, catching her in the middle of a yawn, fluffing her hair, and riding an imaginary bicycle upside down. "Put that away," she said, relaxing again, exercising her boobies with her hands. "What for?"
"I want you," she said, stretching her arms in his direction. "Take off your clothes and make love to me."
"Now? Here?"
"Yes, now and especially here. We're all related-you, me, the sun, the sky, the sea-all part of one big, beautiful universe. You're beautiful and I'm beautiful. I want to do something beautiful. Fuck me, Irish Bob. Please?"
He quickly stepped out of his trunks and shirt and fell on top of her, his prong sticking away from its pocket of fat like a popsicle. He had made it with her several times over the last two weeks, but he had always asked her, and she seemed to comply more out of duty than desire. He shifted all his weight directly onto her as he reached down to guide his rod into her.
"Hey, man, I can't breathe. What's the matter with you? If anyone happened to come by, they would think you've never made it before."
"And that's exactly what's the matter with me. Someone might wander by, see me, call the fuzz, and get me busted for performing a lewd and lascivious act in public."
"You're kidding," she said, squirming out from under him and walking around the rock.
"Not at all. They'll put my ass in jail."
"Come on. I know about getting the clap or crabs or pregnant. I even heard my old great-granny say that God will sunburn your twat if you fuck outdoors, but I never knew it was illegal. Have you ever known anyone who went to jail for it?"
"No, but there's always a first time and I'll probably ... Oh! Jesus Christ, baby, take it all!"
Laurie pumped her mouth slowly up and down his skinny pecker; and when Irish Bob lay back on the rock and closed his eyes in total ecstasy, she picked up his camera and started snapping shots of his face. He was too far gone to realize what was happening, and Laurie laughed as she envisioned the look of surprise on his face when he developed the roll.
A seventy-foot yacht eased past the breakwater, entered the channel and made its way toward the marina. A man, dressed in captain's clothes, leaned over the bridge and waved at her. The smile was unmistakable. It was Billy Black.
Laurie could feel a rumbling shudder pass through Irish Bob's body, signaling his oncoming orgasm. As much as she would have liked to finish the blow job, she couldn't spare the time. She pulled on his cock once more, creating as much suction as she possibly could, then released him, dove into the water and swam toward the ship.
"Oh, shit!" Irish Bob screamed, hitting his head back against the rock as his tool exploded. like an unattended fire hose, his cock spurted come in all directions, leaving deposits on his stomach, hips and legs. "Oh, yes, sweetheart, yes! My God, lover, it won't stop!"
"Coffee, what the fuck you doing up there?" said Fats Miller from the base of the breakwater, snapping his head upward when he heard Irish Bob scream.
"Who's that?" he answered, looking around for Laurie and quickly covering his nakedness with his shorts.
Fats huffed and puffed his way up the fifteen-foot climb. He was a pig-faced man, about four hundred pounds, with black stringy hair and corpulent purple lips. "Jesus Christ, man, have you gone completely crazy? There happens to be a law against beating your meat on a public beach."
"Come on, Fats, you know me. better than that. There was a girl here, giving me a blow job."
"Sure there was. What became of her? Did she crawl up your ass-hole? "
"I swear to you, Fats, she was here not five minutes ago-"
"And I swear to you, fella, you screamed, I looked up and saw your cock shooting jism all over you, and there was nobody helping out. Coffee, you're worse than this drunk we found in the park whacking his mule last week. At least he had an excuse. I asked him if he'd been drinking, and he said he was so smashed he didn't even know who he was screwing."
"But Fats, I tell you, there was a girl here."
"You tell me that once more and I'm taking you into see the shrink." Fats was talking right into Irish Bob's face, and his breath smelled terrible. Then his eyes narrowed. "Now, I ask you again, what happened up here a few minutes ago?
"Just like you said, Fats, I was jerking off."
"Why?"
"Well ... I mean, it was a nice day, so I thought what the shit, why not?"
Billy Black watched the two men through a pair of binoculars from the ship. He laughed when Fats tried to put the cuffs on Irish Bob, and almost fell over the side when Coffee tagged Fats with a roundhouse right and dropped him into the drink. Irish Bob said a few obscenities over the edge at him before picking up his gear and stomping away, but Billy couldn't see what he was saying. Fats floated back to the rocks and tried to pull himself out of the water. He was still trying when the ship made the turn into the next channel and Billy lost visual contact.
Laurie was all over Billy before the First Mate, who had fished her out of the water, had had a chance to dry her properly, and Billy kept her at arms's length to avoid getting his pretty clothes all wet.
"Oh, Billy, I was so worried about you when you went underwater and I didn't see you come up and the next morning everybody was asking me what happened and I just knew you were dead and ... "
"Hold it. I'm all right. Take a breath and tell me all about it."
"Where were you?"
"Well, remember when I went over and didn't come up."
"Yes."
"Well, I was carried out a few hundred yards by this undertow, and these fishermen picked me up. Well, I thought they were friendly guys, you know; but they were fiends, and they pulled all this homosexual shit with me and took me to Mexico. By the time we got there, they had had all the fun they wanted with me, so they tied me up in the bilge and I was just about to drown when I broke free and got topside. Then this great big cat came at me with a knife, and we're fighting all over the boat. I'm about to pass out 'cause I haven't had anything to eat in a week, and he is trying to stick me in the eye when I turn it on him. Zap, he gets it right in the heart, his eyes bulge out, and he dies right on top of me. Don't tell anyone about it. He was the President's third cousin, and they're looking for who did it. Well anyway, I'm still trapped 'cause he's so big I can't move him. Then this big storm comes up and washes us both overboard and this good ship happens by and rescues me. Just in time, too."
"Darling, I'm so glad you got out all right," she said, trying to put her arms around him.
He pushed her away. "Don't 'darling' mc. I saw what you were doing with Irish Bob when we came in the channel."
"But that didn't mean anything. I've been staying with him, waiting for you to come home." Billy scooped her up in his arms. "I know, you were just giving him a form of resuscitation, weren't you?"
"But he was nice to me, and I had-" Billy dropped her over the side. She surfaced, sputtering, and swam for shore.
"Darling, look!" said the beautiful Mexican heiress, Juanita Montez, when she came up from below. "There's a naked girl swimming out there."
"Yes, my dear," Billy said, putting his arm around her tiny waist. "Didn't I tell you? This is the only nudist marina in the United States. We better get undressed so we won't look out of place."
"Undressed?"
"Yes, my darling. When in Rome, one should always order spaghetti." Billy unfastened her bikini top, then pulled down the bottoms. She was a gorgeous woman, about forty, tiny, yet very curvaceous. Her breasts pointed upward and the nipples were almost black, like her eyes. Billy undressed and motioned for one of the sailors to do the same.
"The crew, too?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, anything less would be in extreme bad taste."
Mayor Conklin, his wife, daughter and guests sat in his Chris Craft drinking martinis when the Juamo came by.
"Everyone else seems to be dressed," Juanita said, waving.
"That's because the season just started today," Billy said. "Well be a good reminder for everybody to get with it." He waved madly at Conklin's boat.
"Who are they, John?" one of Conklin's guests asked. "That fellow seems to know you."
"No, I never saw him before in my life. It's probably a publicity stunt to promote a new movie."
"Ahoy there, John! It's me, Billy Black! How are you and your friends today?"
"He seems to know you, dear," said his wife.
"No, no! He must think I'm someone else named John."
"So that's Billy Black," mused Jane, Conklin's anything-but-plain daughter. She beamed as she fixed her binoculars on his rugged face, and the animal magnetism reflected in his smile came through to her like lightning cutting into the base of a tree. She slowly panned his naked torso. Whatever his age, she thought, he is certainly in good shape. She was fascinated by his cock. This surprised her very much since her previous reactions upon seeing male genitalia had been to giggle. Her salivary glands, reacting as though set off by a conditioned response, flooded her mouth and she had to swallow to prevent an overflow of spittle. Aware that a similar outpouring was occurring below, she uncrossed her legs and glanced down to be certain the love juice wasn't running out the side of her bikini. She had heard Billy Black stories all of her life and now, having seen him, was ready to accept as fact much of what she had dismissed as fiction. She liked him. All of him.
"Let me see the glasses, Jane," Conklin asked. She handed them over, and he zeroed in on Juanita's charms. "Yeah, I think I've seen him on the beach. He's a big show-off. Called me by my first name to impress the woman. Where are you going, Jane?"
"I feel kind of dizzy. I think I'll lie down for a minute."
When she got up, her size and sensuality became apparent to all. She was a big girl, five-nine, broad chest and hips. She had experimented with sex most of her twenty-five years and anyone with any awareness at all could tell by looking at her that she had experienced great physical satisfaction with a man. She wore her sensuality like a multi-colored cloak, and the woman in her always looked as though it were scratching to get out.
Jane descended the short flight of stairs and paused at the door to the head. She glanced at the bunk ahead of her, then made up her mind and entered the small head and bolted the door behind her. Removing her swimsuit, she stood in front of the mirror and stroked her breasts. It was hot in the closed cubicle, and so was she. Her hands wandered to her sex and she traced the triangle of hair, converging upon her clitoris with both thumbs and forefingers. Her knees became weak and she leaned back against the wall for support, then slid down and sat on the stool. After propping her long legs, one upon the wash basin and the other on the lip of the porthole, her manipulations became faster and more intense. Keeping constant pressure applied on her clit with her left hand, she plowed the fingers of her right hand through her hot, slick slit and toyed with the entrance to her cunt for a moment before plunging them inside.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned, and a vision of Billy Black became fixed in her mind. She saw the whole man first, standing in front of her, neither flaunting nor ashamed of his nakedness. Next flashed a close-up of his face, laughing like a free spirit with the wind blowing his hair in all directions. Then came a tight shot of his cock, and in her mind it became hard. Now its pulsating head was only inches from her mouth, begging to be sucked. Jane, with eyes tightly closed, pushed up her left breast with the crook of her arm and took the nipple into her mouth. In her vision she heard Billy moan, and his hands took the place of hers and they massaged and finger-fucked her royally; she sucked his cock harder, parched for the quenching liquid it contained. It could be hers if she sucked harder and she did, and when his tool exploded in her mouth, her cunt erupted in his hands. She was beside herself with lusty joy. Her right leg jumped upward by its own volition, and her knee struck a brass fitting. It was a painful blow, but the pain didn't register in her brain until she woke up about an hour later to the anxious pounding of her father on the head door.
Billy Black told Juanita to wait for him while he went ashore to get some beer. She never saw him again.
It was always good to be home. Nothing had changed but the pier. It was now almost two hundred feet long, and Billy wished he could uproot it like a turnip and hurl it fifteen miles out to sea. Instead, he placed both his hands upon the cement railing, closed his eyes, and tried to establish contact with the essence of the structure.
"You are anathema," he chanted. "An evil, worthless, motherfucking eyesore! I'm going to destroy you, because you are defacing nature; and she will give me the power to do so, because she is as pissed off at you as I am. I shall visit you every night, and we shall talk about your worthlessness and the danger you bring to my world. Fuck you, pier! Die! Crumble in your shame!"
Whistling as he walked back to his house, Billy felt that he had properly humiliated his foe, and he reveled in the prospect of completely destroying the pier.
"Oh, darling, I was so worried about you'll shouted Grace Tomalsen, flinging her arms around Billy as he walked through the door. "I was sure those men had done something awful to you. Did they hurt you, darling? Are you all right?"
Billy looked very somber. "It was rough, sweetheart. There were times when I really didn't expect to get out of it alive."
"I had a terrible time getting the money on such a short notice; and then when you didn't come home, I thought they had killed you, or worse I thought ... Billy, that awful man said he was going to ... going to cut your thing off!"
Billy hung his head in his hands and began to weep; softly, bravely at first; but then, as though he could no longer control it, he began to bawl as loudly as a cow in the midst of calving.
"Oh, God, no!" Grace shrieked, covering her mouth with her hands. "Not ... not all of it."
Billy looked up at her. Tears were streaming down his face. He took the hem of her powder-blue cashmere sweater and blew his nose on it. "I ... I ... ca ... CANT TALK ABOUT IT!" He lapsed into uncontrollable weeping again.
"But they promised!"
"How ... how much money did you give them."
"Two thousand dollars."
Billy burst into tears again. These were of a much more genuine variety. "Did you ... did you see them."
"But you know who they are."
"Yes, but I don't know who got the money. He's the most important man in my life right now."
"You're not going to try to fight it out with these men? Billy, they're animals! They'll kill you!"
After a long pause during which Billy stared coolly into her eyes, he said, "What possible difference could that make now?" Grace broke into tears. "Did you see them?"
"No, only their car."
"What was it?"
"A black convertible-Lincoln, I think. I didn't get the number-I was afraid to do anything but peek through the curtains when they took the money from the mailbox."
Two thousand dollars, black Lincoln, Billy mused. Nick! Of course, that cocksucker has been waiting for this for years. Okay, buddy, if that's the way you want it. Now, it's my turn.
"Billy, maybe we can get a doctor. Maybe it isn't too late."
"Wait here." He went up to the bedroom and returned a few minutes later, wearing his robe. He stood with his legs two feel apart, and his hands trembled on the lapels of the garment. The strain of the decision as whether to open it or not was clearly etched in his expression of deep concentration. A shudder flushed through Grace. Her anxiety was as intense, though not the same kind of intensity, as it was the time she saw the Mona Lisa unveiled at a private showing.
Billy took a deep breath, flung the robe open for a moment, then quickly closed it again. For all intents and purposes, his cock was gone. When Grace looked at his naked groin, all she saw was hair and a small band aid over that area where his genitals usually hung.
She held back her tears and went to embrace him. He held her away from him and spoke softly: "When you speak of this, and you will, be kind." He kissed her sweetly and she left.' From the front porch she could hear his howling start up again, and she ran the rest of the way to her Rolls and told the chauffeur to step on it.
Billy watched her leave through the window and broke up with laughter. As he doubled over he felt a sharp pain below. He quickly straightened up and broke the string around his neck which had been hidden from Grace's view by the string of his cloak-like robe. His joint flopped into view, revealing that the other end of the string had been securely fastened around the head of his cock, then run up his back and tied around his neck. He used the band aid to tape the string in his scrapbook.
"Hi, Norman," Dolly said, sighing deeply as she sat beside him during a momentary lull in the Sandpiper. "What's happening?"
"A lot. I've been keeping close tabs on our friend Quicker Jackson. Not many chinks in that boy's armor. He doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, doesn't make bets on sporting events, doesn't stay up late watching Johnny Carson."
"What does he like to do?"
"One thing: fucking. He is a seven-foot phallus, and left to his own devices he would eat, sleep with, kiss, fondle and fuck pussy twenty-four hours a day. The problem is he puts so much heart and soul into each piece of ass that it takes him a full day to recover from it. You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I'm way ahead of you. Thursday will be the final workout. The coaches will make their decision Thursday night. Could you arrange for me to meet this minx, say Wednesday night?"
"I'll try. Where do you want him?"
"My place. Eight o'clock at night."
"Where's your husband?"
"I sent him off to a hotel until this thing is over. I can't sleep next to a naked man and not be allowed to kiss and touch his body."
"Have you ever seen Jackson?"
"Nope."
"Good. I'll tell him Martin Wilson wants to see him. He's one of the Laker owners but Jackson hasn't had a chance to meet him because Wilson's been in Europe for the past six months."
"Okay, and who am I, Wilson's wife."
"No, no, Jackson wouldn't go for that. He's a very religious cat."
"Who do I say I am?"
"His daughter, Helen. She's a good-looking blonde about your age and the most talked-about nymphomaniac in the league. Her old man bought a piece of the club just so she would have a reason to hang around the team. She's completely wacko for basketball players, so I'm sure Jackson knows all about her. I asked her for a date once, and she said she'd see me in a week when she had recovered. I asked her what from, and she said she had just realized a life-long goal. In less than a week she had made it with every NBA All-Star, both divisions."
"Well, if Jackson's heard of her, I shouldn't have much trouble getting him in the mood. She sounds like a status symbol for rookies."
"She is, but it still won't be that easy. I'll give you a call about nine o'clock. You tell him it's your father, and he can't make it. At least that will give you a clear shot at him."
"Norman, you're a dream," Dolly said, giving him a big kiss. "What can I do to repay you?"
"Come home with me after work tonight. I've been having wet dreams about you."
"I'd love to, but I can't. I'm having my period."
"I failed biology three times in college, so this might sound like a silly question, but how can menstruation knock a woman's mouth out of commission?"
"I'd be miserable company. I'm such a bitch during this time, Richard won't even let me talk to him."
"Well, how about, uh, just a quiet dinner somewhere?"
"No sex?" she asked in disbelief. "No sex," he answered in a very low tone. "What was that? I didn't hear you."
"I said, no sex!"
"Why, Norman," she teased, "I believe you're smitten with me."
"Maybe," he said, looking away.
"Hey, Johnny, did you hear what the world famous Norman Ginsberg just said to little ole me?" She winked at him.
"Yeah, I heard," Johnny said, wiping the bar near their table. He had hung on to every word, but didn't think Dolly's flippant attitude was very funny.
"Norman, you can have your pick of any girl in town. You don't care anything about me. You just like the way I suck cock."
"Don't talk like that."
Dolly hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Oh, shit! I can't believe you said that."
"Listen, Dolly, don't make fun of me. All right, so I'm out of line. I'm just a trick to you. Tricks can never be anything but tricks, and when they try, they blow every fuse in the joint. I'm aware of that, and who I am, and who you are." He looked into her eyes with a cold, intense glare. "But don't you ever tell me I don't care about you. And don't you ever make fun of me for it. No woman in this world has so many admirers that she can afford to put them down for liking her."
After a pause Dolly leaned over and kissed him. "I'm sorry, Norman. I really thought you were making fun of me.
"Okay, fella. Outside!" Dick Horton towered over Norman and his wife like a giant thundercloud, and his eyes smoldered like burning coals.
"Go away, mister," Norman responded. "You're making too much noise."
"You heard what I said, mother-fucker! Hit the pavement!"
"And you, no doubt, heard me, ass-hole! Take a walk!"
"Okay, dip-shit, if that's the way you want it," Dick said, pulling him out of the chair by his lapels. "I'm going to drop-kick your butt all the way to the water!"
Norman pulled a blackjack out of his hip pocket. "Tell me about it, cocksucker! That is if you have any face left to talk through!"
Dolly pushed her way between the two men. "That's all! Sit down! Both of you!"
"Who the hell is this guy?" both men asked in unison.
"Norman, meet my husband. Dick, say hello to the best friend you have in this world right now."
"If he's my best friend, how come I don't know about it?"
"Because you don't have enough goddamn sense to ask a question before you show your ass, that's why! NOW SIT DOWN!" The men dropped sullenly into chairs. "Dick, this is Norman Ginsberg, the television star."
"Big fucking deal."
"And he knows the Laker owners, and he has offered to try to help you make the team."
"You mean he's trying to help himself make you, don't you? Tell me, bigshot, who are the Laker owners?"
"Ryan, Meyers, O'Conner and Wilson."
Dick's jaw dropped slightly open and he swallowed hard. "Whatcha drinking, Norman?"
"Martinis."
"John, another round please. Look, I'm sorry, man, but I'm ... well, I'm pretty jealous, and when I came in I saw you two and ... went ... I apologize."
"Forget it. If Dolly were my wife, I'd probably do the same thing."
"What did you mean by that?"
"He didn't mean anything, Richard. Goddamn, you're dense tonight."
"All right, all right, but how can he help me?"
"I've been trying to give you a boost in the front office. Told them I've known you for a long time and all that good shit. The word came back was that you're doing a great job, but Jackson seems to have a slight edge in the coaches' minds in the area of endurance."
"They're right. Chucker's stronger than I am."
"Okay, so we're going to have to make him weaker for the workout on Thursday. You're going to have to play your balls off, and he's going to have to look bad, and that's all there is to it."
"And how do we go about that?"
"Dolly could keep him up late the night before. I can arrange it."
"Dick, I told him you wouldn't go for it," Dolly said.
"I don't know," Dick said. "It might work."
"Then you don't mind?" she asked.
"Honey, all our marbles are riding on this one day. If I bomb out, I'm going to have to get a job climbing telephone poles. Chucker loves the women, there's no doubt of that. The other day I asked him how he developed such an accurate hook shot, and he tells me he pretends the hoop is a great big pussy. Swish. 'That's all there is to it, man. I jist lob my ball up at that mutherfuckin' hole and swish! Two points, Jack.' He told me he sent the president of the NBA a letter requesting they put black fur around the hoop instead of net."
"You better keep your eye on him," said Norman, laughing. "Before you know it, hell be rubbing the ball down with fish oil."
"Yeah. Dolly, would you be willing to go out with him?"
"If you want me to."
"Fine, it's all settled." Dick got up and shook hands with Norman. "Nice meeting you, Norman. Thanks for everything."
"Don't mention it, Dick. Good luck."
Dolly walked outside with Dick, and he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Dick, what if he gets fresh?"
"Norman?"
"No, Chucker Jackson."
"You know he's going to make a pass at you."
"What do I do then?"
"What can I say? You know how important it is. Do what you have to do." He snickered nervously. "You know, it's like if a guy slips into your kitchen and swipes a slice of bread. It's no big thing really, unless you catch him at it. What's a slice of bread, one way or the other?"
"We're not talking about bread. I think meat is the issue."
"No, bread is the issue. Money. Without it there is no meat or potatoes or anything. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Going to the apartment?"
"Naw, I think I'll go back to the hotel. I don't think I'll have any trouble sleeping, now that I've heard the good news."
"Good night," she said.
"Good night, dear," he said and walked away.
Suddenly Dolly was very cold. It was more than the cool California night air. She was cold inside where she lived. The marrow in her bones seemed to be gradually freezing.
Anything you say, sweetheart, she thought. You'll get the job, but it won't come cheap. I hope you've got enough emotional bread to cover it.
Looking like an acid-inspired version of the painting Blue Boy, Billy Black, wearing a powder-blue silk suit and a pale yellow ruffled shirt, strutted past Dolly with a gait that suggested he had taken walking lessons from God. He stood at the door, glanced back at her, panned her slowly from toes to nose, said, "Bitchin', " gave her a half smile and walked in.
"Hey!"
He came back outside. "Were you addressing me."
"Yeah, you're Billy Black, aren't you."
"That's correct. How did you know."
"I don't know, I sensed it, I suppose."
"What's your name?"
"It doesn't matter. I haven't got any room for you right m now.
"I didn't ask for the key to your lunch box. I simply asked you for your name."
"It's Dolly."
" 'Tis a pity you're such a wise-ass, my dear, because you really look bitchin'. "
"And you certainly live up-to your publicity, Mr. Black."
"Thank you. What a shame that we shall never again speak to one another. You might have been a decent fuck. Good day." Billy tipped his matching top hat and walked back inside and up to the bar.
"My good man," he said to John, "I wish to speak with the proprietor." A tinge of W.C. Fields had slipped into Billy's accent while he was talking to Dolly and he left it in.
"So talk, Billy. What's on your ... Jesus Christ! Where did you get those threads, love?"
"Don't waste your endearing language on me, my gay caballero. Fetch me your better half, Stanley Straightarrow."
"Just a minute. He's asleep. I'll get him. You're just too fucking much, Billy. Somebody's going to put you away one of these days and throw away the key."
"Ah, but you'll find it and come to my rescue, won't you my sweet-lipped friend?"
"You can bet your banana on that. And if you keep dressing so pretty, you better not let me catch you sleeping with your mouth open."
"You may share my hammock with me anytime, my boy. You can peel the grapes, and I'll recite Spencer's Faerie Queen. I know it by heart."
John raced into the back room, cackling like a chicken and woke his brother. "I've got a present for you, Nick. Hurry up."
Nick staggered through the curtain, rubbing his eyes. He looked at Billy, and it took a few seconds for his brain to register what he saw. "Oh, boy," he said facetiously, "just what I've always wanted."
"Suh," Billy drawled, switching to the accent of a deep Southerner, "I'm heah to avenge my honah."
"What's you problem, Colonel?"
"It has been called to my attention that you are nothin' but a lowly, crawlin', slimy, prick-lickin', two-bit sneak thief."
"I'm glad you didn't hear any of the bad things they are saying about me."
Billy took out a velvet glove. "No jokes, please. This is serious traditional business we are conductin'. "
"Oh, sorry. Do continue."
"Nicholas Mykonos, I considah yoh stealin' two thousand dollahs from my woman an act of total depravity, and I hea' by challenge you to a doo-ell." He slapped Nick across the face with the glove, and he crashed back into the back bar.
"You son of a bitch! What the shit have you got in that thing?"
Billy smiled sheepishly. "A roll of quarters."
"Oh, that's funny. That's very funny, you cocksucker!" Nick smashed a bottle against the bar and climbed up on the surface. "I'm going to cut your nuts out!"
"Twice in one week?"
Nick glared at him for a moment with the bottle cocked back behind his head, then flung it against the wall. The crash broke the tension and Nick laughed. "How did you find out?"
"The car, stupid. You're too flashy for this line of work."
"You serious about the duel."
"You betchum, Red Rider."
"Guns or knives?"
"Okay, I'll take a gun, and you take a knife."
"You just farting around with me or what ... what do you want?"
"I want a piece of your ass, that's what."
"Okay, when and where?"
"Tomorrow at high noon, near the pier. And bring your book."
"What book?"
Billy plopped a small red leather-bound volume on the bar. "Your address book. Winner takes all."
"You serious?"
"Dead serious. You trying to crawl out of it."
"Oh, no. In fact I'm going to mass tonight to thank God for the opportunity to break your fucking neck."
"You'd best pray for your immortal soul, my son."
"What are the rules?"
"The formal dress will be swim trunks. No shirt and no shoes. No weapons, but anything goes: kicking, biting, pinching, hair-pulling, eye-gouging; you name it, it's legal."
John picked up Billy's book. "And I'll hold the books," he said excitedly.
Billy tipped his hat to Nick. "Until the morrow, Mr. Mykonos. I congratulate you on yoh gentlemanly demeanah while we discussed this mattah."
Nick bowed to Billy. "Yes, Mr. Black, until tomorrow. Enjoy the morning, sir. You might not see another for a long, long time."
"Are you two really going to fight tomorrow?" Dolly asked.
"That's what the man said," said Nick.
"I've got something to throw into the pot," she said.
"What?"
"Me, for twenty-four hours." Norman choked on his drink.
"Surely you jest, my dear," Billy said. "Would Sir Lancelot soil his hands on a maid of the tavern? Good night, everybody." Billy swaggered out the door.
The bar was very quiet. Billy had the power to take all the vitality out of a room when he left it. "Can you dig the nerve of the son of a bitch?" Dolly said to Nick.
"All drinks are on the house, everybody!" John yelled. "We're going to have a party!"
"Damn!" Irish Bob said, easing into the big bamboo chair in his living room. "My tush hurts. Got too much sun."
"What's a tush?" Laurie asked.
"Tush is Jewish for butt. I didn't think I was out there long enough to get burned."
Laurie knelt beside him and kissed his hand. "You were a tiger when I swam back," she said, beaming. "I don't think anyone ever screwed me that long before. I can barely walk, and certainly not very straight."
"You going home in the morning?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Who knows, the folks may have even noticed I'm gone by now."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too. I know it hasn't been much fun for you the way I've been making a fool of myself over Billy Black, but that's all over now. I'll come down and see you from time to time if you like."
"I'd like."
The door bell rang and Irish Bob answered it. Billy Black stuck his foot in the door. "Hey, Bob, what's happening."
"Not much. Now that's what I call a blue suit."
"Like it."
"No."
"Sorry about that." He pushed his head past Irish Bob. "Hey, baby," he said to Laurie, "Let's go."
"Where?" she asked. "Home, that's where. I'm hungry."
"Well, I'm not. I'm very comfortable here, thank you."
"I said come on. NOW!"
Laurie grabbed her purse and coat and walked to the door. She didn't want to look at Irish Bob, but he blocked her way and she had to. "May I pass, please?" she said.
He looked at her for a moment, and then let her go by. "I'm sure glad things aren't all over between you two."
"What did he mean by that?" Billy asked.
"Nothing," she said as Irish Bob closed the door.
"What's a dumb shit like that know, anyway? I don't approve of your seeing him."
"Well, please tell me, great white father, just what the hell do you expect?"
"Not much, just exactly what I tell you."
"Fuck you."
Laurie didn't even see the blow coming. She was flat on her face on the sand before she knew what had hit her. Sitting up, she spat out a mouthful of sand which had become bloodied from the cut on the inside of her mouth. She crawled a bit on all fours, determined not to show any emotion; but Billy sat beside her and put his arms around her. "I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn't have done that." She broke into tears. "Now, now, don't cry. I called some friends to meet us at the house. We're going to have a party. Here, I'll kiss away the pain." Billy gently licked the blood from her lip and kissed her with great tenderness. Laurie felt herself going out to him. All of a sudden she became very dizzy, and she could feel her heart thump under her breast.
She pulled away from his hungry mouth and looked out at the ocean. "I think I like you better the other way."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't know. There's something ... urgent about you. I like the communication, but I don't think I like what you're communicating. I think I like you better when you're doing your thing."
There was a long pause, and Billy looked down at the sand, scooped up a handful, and watched the grains flutter through his fingers back to earth. "Why is it that everybody in this universe can have a serious moment and gel away with it? Everybody, that is, except Billy Black?"
"Do I detect a slight chink in this paragon's armor?" Laurie asked in complete amazement.
"Yeth," Billy answered without smiling, letting a big glob of spittle run out of his mouth, over his chin and onto his twenty-dollar shirt. They both laughed, Billy grabbed
Laurie's hand and they ran to his house.
Billy Black had a shower in his house that was as big as a small bedroom. A hidden color wheel indirectly flooded the room with soft, ever-changing light. There was also piped-in music and one of the large tile panels rotated into the wall, revealing a complete bar stock on the other side. Billy's shower sported twelve heads; and when he and Laurie stepped inside, they were casually greeted by thirteen party guests. They all greeted their host and his girl cheerfully, splashing water on them and soaping their private parts as they passed.
"Sorry we're late," Billy said, "but you bums weren't very shy about starting the party without me."
"Oh, we haven't started yet," said one of the men. He was being eaten by a girl who sat at his feet.
Laurie had often thought of what group sex would be like, in her fantasies, but to have it thrust upon her full blast just by opening a door was too much for her to absorb all at once. Suddenly she was hit by stage fright, and not only did she not know what to do with her hands, she didn't know what to do with any of the rest of her.
"Hi, there," said a young, athletic male, who stepped in front of her. A soapy, roaring hard-on protruded from his groin and when he stepped forward to make contact with her, she backed into another soapy, roaring hard-on and screamed.
"Trick or treat," said the voice behind her, and its owner bent his knees slightly and drove his cock into her ass. No sooner had that happened, startling her nearly out of her wits, than the other fellow drove his weapon into her pussy. The men then each fucked his own passageway, rocking the girl back and forth between them, sometimes lifting her by the ribs and armpits to get a longer thrust. Gradually they built towards climaxes and hit them without uttering a sound. Laurie clung to the man in front of her, but he didn't respond. The newness of the situation and the intensity of the sensation excited her towards a quick climax, but as she was about to hit it, she got an even bigger surprise. As soon as she began to moan, the men, having had their pleasure, nonchalantly withdrew with nary a "thank you" or "goodbye", leaving the poor girl standing there, with her eyes rolling around aimlessly in their sockets. Infuriated, she started to finish the job by hand, when another strange voice said, "Here, let me do that for you." She thought it was a man speaking; but when she looked down at the face pressed against her anxious cunt, it was that of a short-haired, stockily-built woman, who sucked her off neatly with a minimum of time and effort.
"Anybody seen the Pink Lady?" asked Billy Black. "She said she'd be here tonight."
"Don't hold your breath, Billy," said an unidentified voice. "She's dead. The lifeguard found her this morning on the beach." x "That's a shame," Billy said with no emotion. "She was a nice person." Laurie collapsed into a yoga position on the floor and wept softly. "How did it happen?" Billy asked.
"Nobody knows for sure. She was naked, so naturally the papers picked up on the sex fiend slant; but there weren't any marks on her. Doesn't sound like rape, huh?"
"Naw," Billy said, "she wasn't raped. She danced herself to death."
"What's that?"
"It Isn't important. Hey, children, let's get out of here and have some fun. Anyone bring a rubber sheet."
"I did," chirped a woman.
"Good. Let's go play Golden Showers. That's always a good way to start a party."
Everybody filed out of the shower except Billy and
Laurie, who didn't move from the tile floor. Billy flipped out the bar and downed a couple of straight shots. Laurie bawled. "What's the matter, kid?"
"Billy, she's dead. That ... that beautiful woman died, just like that. Doesn't that hurt you when someone beautiful dies?"
"Can't say that it does. Hey, everybody dies. It's as easy as falling off a log. Come on, let's join the party."
"I think I'll wait here for awhile."
"Suit yourself." He left.
Laurie recreated every moment of her encounter with the Pink Lady, and the more she thought about it, the more she cried. She closed her eyes and envisioned the woman making love to her. When she opened them again, she saw a dark form in the corner of the shower. Her body crawled with goose flesh, and she set what was probably the all-time world's record for shower leaving.
More people had arrived, and smoking, fucking, drinking, sucking, laughing bodies were strewn all over the house. Laurie stepped over them, looking for Billy, pausing once in awhile when a new twist caught her attention. Hands reached up from the floor and touched her throughout her journey. They were not warm hands. They were cold and clammy on her flesh, like the hands of the dead, trying to pull her down from the living.
She finally found Billy upstairs in bed. It hadn't occurred to her to ask what Golden Showers were, but it became very apparent to her when she saw Billy and his six (or was it sick? she thought) friends chug-a-lugging beer and spraying one another about the face and shoulders with urine.
Billy trained his stream at Laurie, and she jumped back and brushed away the few drops that hit her stomach.
"Come join us," he said wiping his eyes with a towel. "Thanks, but no thanks."
"I know, you're waiting for the real excitement to begin. We're going into the leather scene in a few minutes. You'll love that."
"What's a leather scene?"
"You know, the S&M bag: whips, belts, brass knucks. Anything interesting going on downstairs?"
"That depends on your definition of the word. There's a couple fucking in the kitchen with their tongues stuck to the freezing compartment in the refrigerator."
"Yeah, that's kinda nutty."
Laurie started dressing. "I hate to be a party pooper, but I have to go."
"Why? We're just getting started! You don't want to miss all the excitement, do you?"
"I think I've had just about all the excitement anyone could stand for one evening."
"Don't go. I haven't done anything to turn you off, have I?"
"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind. Let's just say I want to see my folks. I've been gone too long. Much too long."
"Now, that you know where we are, don't make a stranger of yourself."
The walls began to close in on Laurie. She bolted down the stairs, tripped over a loving couple in the living room and sprinted out the door. If it had been locked, she probably would have run right through it.
Billy watched her run down the Speedway from the balcony off his bedroom. When she was out of sight, he returned to his friends. "I thought she'd never leave," he said. "Come on, everybody. Get dressed and I'll get the scrabble sets."
"I don't want to play scrabble," protested one of the girls. "You cheat."
"Of course, that's why I always win."
"Well, I want to play bridge!"
"When the party's at your house, well play bridge. But this isn't your house, and this isn't your party, so we're going to play scrabble, and that's that!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Girl Scouts? No, they were too old. A DAR convention, maybe. Not a chance ... too much skin was showing. Who, then, were the five hundred plus lovely ladies congregated near the nearly completed Venus Municipal Pier? Lovers, that's who. John Mykonos rented a phone room and ten women to phone all the names listed in the two books left in his safe keeping. Very few, judging from the turnout, had declined the invitation to see Billy Black and brother Nick square off for the battle which, at least in the minds of the inhabitants of that microcosm, erased forever any memory of other such trivialities such as the Dempsy Tunney fiasco.
"Hi, Helen," said a well-built redhead to a similarly constructed blonde. "How nice you look this morning. That's last year's bikini, isn't it?"
"Yes, it has great sentimental value to me. Doing your hair yourself these days? The roots are peeking through a bit. No, no, the other side, dear."
"Who are you pulling for?"
"Me? Why, I just saw the crowd and wondered what it was all about."
"But I thought you were going to New York this morning."
"Cancelled. Which one is yours?"
"Why, whatever are you talking about?"
Nick and Billy entered the area at the same time, so it was impossible to tell from the ovation who was favored. Nick had purchased a pair of black satin trunks with white trim and his monogram especially for the event, while Billy appeared in his trademark outfit: the faded red trunks and the "Fuck-the-Establishment" T-shirt. The two smiling men met and shook hands. They brought on more ovations by waving at the throng.
"Friends of yours?" Billy said through his smile without moving his lips.
"It looks about your way."
"I agree, but don't feel badly about it. I've had a few years on you. Nervous?"
"Yeah, but I don't know whether it's because I'm so graphically faced by the fruits of all that labor, or the fact that I want a piece of your ass so badly."
"They're still coming in. Goddamn, there's a lot of pussy. Makes my nuts ache to think about all the effort that went into it."
"It completely rattles my brain," Nick said, scanning the crowd again. "Each familiar face triggers the experience I had with that particular person. My whole life is being flashed before my eyes. It's so mind-shattering, I might switch over to Johnny's way of thinking after today."
"Assuming, of course, that you'll be here after today."
"Oh, III be here, old man. It's you I'm worried about."
"What do you say we take it easy for ten minutes or so? You know, just to be sure they get their money's worth."
"Okay with me."
Johnny came up between the men and quieted the crowd. "May I have your attention, please? Ladies and Gentlemen!" Everybody laughed since Irish Bob seemed to be the only male in the crowd. "This is the time when I should be giving instructions to the fighters; but since there are no instructions to give, this being a no-holds barred contest, I shall instruct you, instead. When the men need room, give it to them. Don't press too close. There is plenty of room, so hang loose. The only time I will interfere will be in case one of you lovely ladies (a shudder passed over him) gets caught up in the heat of the battle and starts hitting or kicking the man other than her champion. If that happens, I will stop you. Believe me, I'm not the least bit squeamish about hitting a woman." Another laugh went up from the gathering. "Gentlemen, are you ready?" Both men nodded. "Commence!"
Bill sprung toward Nick and nearly broke his jaw with a vicious right hook. Surprised by the blow, Nick fell on all fours and Billy kicked him in the balls from the rear. He kicked him so hard, he fractured the big toe on his right foot and Nick fell on his side and held his groin, screaming from the pain.
After delivering a kick to Nick's ribs, Billy aimed one at his face; but Nick grabbed his leg, spun him down and sunk his teeth into his calf. "Hey, mother-fucker, that hurts!" shouted Billy, removing his foe by yanking a handful of black curly locks out of the top of his head.
Both men got back to their feet, and Billy tried to spring at him again; but his injured leg and broken toe caused him to fall short, and Nick crushed Billy's nose with a perfectly timed kick to the falling man's face.
Billy was hurt. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and for the first time was aware of the reaction of the spectators. Most were in a state of shock. Some of the others cheered. Some cried. A few lost their breakfast. Nick rushed him and sent him sprawling once more with a knee to his chin. Billy didn't think he could get up; but he did, and the fight continued for another fifteen minutes in the traditional boxing manner.
Little more than staggering pulps of bleeding flesh the two men did the best they could with very little in reserve. Nick missed with a wild right hand and Billy got lucky. He stuck his man with a stiff jab and followed through with a classic right cross that knocked out three of Nick's teeth and broke Billy's hand. Nick fell at the base of the pier and disappeared under it. Billy hoped he wouldn't come out. He didn't. John came out, wearing his brother's trunks and smeared with enough of his blood to fool everybody.
The end came quickly. John doubled over with a hard right to the stomach and straightened him with a ferocious uppercut. Billy just stood there as John turned Billy's chin a little to the right. "Goodnight, sweets," John whispered.
"It's ... it's the cocksucker," Billy managed to say. "The ... the real one!" He saw the punch coming, but he didn't have enough strength left to raise his guard.
About two hours later he woke up in his bed. A very beautiful, but unfamiliar face came into focus. "Who are you?" he mumbled.
"Jane Conklin. You know my father."
"You're very pretty."
"Thank you. You used to be." She dabbed his eyes with a cold washcloth.
"I don't feel anything."
"You're full of dope."
"What's this?" he asked, touching the splint on his face.
"That used to be your nose. The doctor set what was left of it."
"How many women hung around to see if I was all right?"
"One. Me. The others left you on the beach. Get some sleep. You need a lot of it. I'll stay with you."
"Why?"
"I want to. A fellow named Bob Coffee helped me get you home."
"That's very funny. All it all boils down to is no friends, a kind stranger, and a compassionate enemy."
"What did you ever do to him?"
"I introduced a friend of mine to his old lady. It was a bad scene."
"Is he really Irish?"
"Who, Bob? Naw, he's Jewish."
"I feel a straight line coming on, but here goes: Why does everybody call him Irish Bob?"
"Because," Billy yawned, "he gets very pissed off when someone calls him Irish Coffee." He turned his head slightly and fell asleep.
Her bell rang three times before Dolly answered it. She dabbed one more dab of perfume, turned the light down one more notch and slightly backed off the volume control on the stereo, "Why, come in, Mr. Jackson," she said ever so sweetly. "I've been expecting you."
Chucker heard an alarm go off in his head. A lot of things in this world confused him, but one of them was definitely not the intent of the tone in a woman's voice. He could determine with uncanny accuracy exactly what a woman was after by listening closely to her voice and looking into her eyes; and those few simple words told him in no uncertain terms that the lovely creature standing before him wanted to get in his britches. Dolly was wearing a wispy, pale green arnel shift that clung to her as though it were applied with an oil gun. Chucker didn't know arnel from asbestos, but he never had any trouble recognizing nipples; and the two aroused ones minting directly at him were as inviting as any he had ever seen. The alarm told him to ask her to have Mr. Wilson meet him in his car.
"Thank you," he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Is Mr. Wilson here?"
"He had to go out for a minute. Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you. Are you Mrs. Wilson?"
"No, Mother passed away a couple of years ago."
"Sorry to hear that."
"That's very thoughtful of you to show concern. Thoughtfulness is a trait rarely found these days."
"Your name wouldn't be Helen, would it?" His face furrowed with worry.
"Why, yes, how did you know?"
Perspiration popped out on his palms. "Oh, somebody mentioned that Mr. Wilson had a daughter named Helen, that's all." He shot out of his chair. "When Mr. Wilson comes, would you tell him I had to run?"
Dolly went to him and took his hands. "Please, don't go. Daddy will be back in just a few minutes. How about a drink?"
'No, thank you."
"What can I get for you?"
"Nothin', but if you really want to do something, you could let go of my hands. I'm about to jump out of my skin."
"Why, whatever for?"
"Lady, I'm supposed to be in training, and you don't have no idea what just lookin' at you is doin' to my metabolism."
"Well, then," she said, sliding her arms around his waist, "don't look at me."
"Please, let go," he pleaded. She could feel him getting an erection, for her knockers were striking him just above his cock and muscle spasms developed on that area of his stomach.
"Don't be silly. What could possibly happen? My father is going to walk in at any moment. Bend down."
"What for?"
"Do it." He did; she kissed him, and he thought the top of his head was coming off. She put her hand on his cock and pulled it around so it was pointing straight up, then rubbed her nipples across the head.
"Miss Wilson?"
"Yes, Mr. Jackson?"
"Would it be all right if we went into the bedroom and fucked for a few hours?" He kissed her hair, eyes, forehead, nose, and ears, before returning to her delicious mouth. If a cobra had crawled out of her bosom, he would have kissed that too.
"What if my father were to walk in?"
"Hell just have to wait his turn ... I mean, we could bolt the door, and I could jump out the window when he comes."
"All right, Chucker. You're a very persuasive person. Get undressed and get into bed. I'll be right in."
Chucker ran to the bedroom as fast as he could and by the time he reached the bed, he was completely naked. He lay back, stuffed one pillow between his legs and gathered up the other in his arms. The alarm in his head sounded again, this time louder than an atomic attack warning. He touched his cock, and it felt so good he didn't want to let go. Then a preview of the next day's workout flashed through his mind. He could see himself too weak to hold the ball, and every time he shot, the ball would travel about two feet and fall right into Dick Horton's hands. Dick would then fire the ball the entire length of the court and hit the shot, laughing as he did and receiving a standing ovation from the coaches. "He's our great white hope!" they shouted. Chucker tried to run after the ball, but he could barely move, and when he looked down he saw his legs were fettered in heavy lead boots, like the television commercial about school dropouts. When the workout was over, the coaches lifted Dick onto their shoulders and presented him with a giant gift-wrapped box. When he opened it, Helen jumped into his arms. She was naked except for a big red ribbon tied around her pussy. As Dick hurriedly unwrapped his present, Chucker dejectedly made his way back to the showers.
The showers! That's it, he thought. A nice cold shower. He ran into the bathroom and, forgetting to duck, bumped his head above the shower compartment and fell inside. His hand groped for the cold water side and he flipped it on. The icy water shocked him back to reality. His muscles, hot from sweat, contracted severely at the sudden change of temperature. Soon even his hard-on disappeared and his respiration returned to normal.
"Chucker, I'm ready for you," Dolly cooed on the other side of the curtain.
Chucker looked up and saw her naked outline through the translucent curtain. He ducked his head back between his knees. "I ... I have to go home, Miss Wilson."
She knelt down so he could hear her clearly. "But lover, I want you. My pussy is all hot and juicy. It aches to hold your magnificent cock inside it."
"Oh, shit, lady!" he shouted, covering his ears. "For God's sake, don't talk that way!"
"I can't help telling you how I feel. I want you to fuck me, lover. I want you to fuck me until I pass out. And I want to eat you. I want to take your cock in my mouth and run my tongue around the head of it. I want to suck it wantonly and feel your hot come gush into my mouth and down my throat."
"You ... you might as well save your breath, Helen. I can't hear a cock ... I mean a word you say."
She threw back the curtain. Chucker didn't look up. Dolly turned on the hot tap and tood behind him, rubbing her tits across his back. He didn't respond. She got the soap, lathered her palm and started jerking him off very slowly. His cock jumped to attention. The civil war within Chucker was taking such a heavy toll on his emotions that tears came to his eyes. "But ... but your father?"
"He just called. He said he was sorry, but he can't make it."
"He's sorry? He's not half as sorry as I am."
Dolly pouted. "You sure know how to hurt a girl."
"Come here, angel. I didn't mean that." He pulled her around and into his lap. "You look fantastic," he said, kissing one of her nipples.
She found his rigid cock with her left hand and, twisting her body slightly, fed it into her cunt and nestled down upon it, like a mother hen settling over her eggs. "I feel fantastic!"
Fingers kept a schedule on Dolly's work and shopping habits, then would monitor the mirror every hour or so when she was home. He saw her dressing earlier in the evening and knew he was going to be in for a great show, because of the way she primped and made over herself in the mirror.
About the time Chucker arrived, Fingers heard a woman screaming out front and went to investigate. A man had a woman pinned up against the front of his store and was slapping the shit out of her. Fingers ran out to her rescue, judo chopped the assailant a couple of times on the back of his neck and threw him to the ground. "Run," he told the woman, keeping his eye on the fallen man.
"Why don't you mind your own goddamned business, you stupid old fart!" shouted the woman, banging Fingers on the head with the spiked heel of her shoe. Fingers went down, and she knelt over her attacker and smothered him with kisses and words of comfort.
It took the doctor about an hour to stitch up the gash in Fingers' head and by the time he got back home, Chucker and Dolly were just about finished with their lovemaking. They lay in the semi-dark room, stroking each other. Fingers strained his eyes, trying to make out the identity of the man, and decided it must be Dick on account of his height (or length as was the case in this instance). Ain't that nice, he thought. Gittin' all spruced up that way, and jist for her old man.
Dolly made the long journey from Chucker's chin to his cock and dotted his torso with kisses en route. She had never made it with a Negro before, and was somewhat surprised to find no difference between Chucker and any other capable lover she had shared her bed with. She really didn't know what she had expected. In her fantasies, she had sometimes imagined a big black stud arousing desires within her that had been heretofore untapped by whitey. If anything, she was saddened by this encounter, for she hadn't the slightest idea what she could find to replace the black lover in her fantasy. She covered Chucker's cock with her mouth and he quickly sprang back to life.
Fingers began to sweat. The poor lighting made the act even more alluring to him, as he played both parts of the lovers he was watching and conjured up, what for him, was an amazing erection. It was self-lubricating enough that he didn't even have to use any spittle, and he was soon whacking away as well as he had since he was a kid. He pretended to be Dick and imagined Dolly's beautiful lips upon the head of his cock. He could actually feel the warmth and silky wetness of her mouth upon him and his ancient rod got even harder. The pain in the back of his head went away, and he pretended he was Dolly, and he moved his head up and down over Dick's imaginary cock while stroking himself in perfect time.
Chucker exploded in Dolly's mouth, but it was Fingers who felt the fiery semen in his throat, as his own poured out into his hand. He had never thought of sucking a cock before, and the excitement of the new experience flooded him with the turbulent wonder of new discovery. His moment of great joy, however, was very short lived.
Nick stepped into Dolly's bedroom and flipped on the light.
Dolly screamed.
Chucker jumped to his feet and prepared to defend himself.
Fingers, spat, gagged and vomited. He wiped his mouth so vigorously with his sleeve that he lost his balance and crashed through the mirror.
Nick said he had heard from Norman what was going on and became so jealous that he couldn't stand it.
Dolly responded by smashing a lamp over Nick's already bruised and bandaged head.
Fingers, cut and bleeding all over, screamed 'Nigger lover' a few hundred times in Dolly's ear and informed her that she no longer lived there.
Dolly called Fingers a perverted, scummy, decrepit, old one-handed turd and kicked him in the balls.
No one seemed to be paying any attention to Chucker, so he casually got dressed and went home.
There was absolutely no communication between Dolly and Nick the next night at the Sandpiper, except when Dolly had to order a drink from him. But even within the limitations of bar vocabulary, she managed to let him know what was on her mind. Whether she ordered a scotch and soda or seven and seven or whatever, "you son of a bitch" was intoned in every order, and everyone in the room picked it up. Nick was helpless. like a whipped dog, he tended bar with his tail between his legs. Several times he tried to apologize for breaking in on her, but her nose was high in the air all night, and she would immediately say something warm to a customer the moment he tried to get her attention.
"Have you heard anything yet?" asked Norman for the tenth time.
"Nothing yet," was always her reply. The workout had been over for hours, but she hadn't seen or heard a word from Dick.
About one a.m. he burst into the bar, dead drunk. He walked up behind Dolly and pinched her on the ass. Thinking it was a customer, she turned to slap him, but caught herself in time to pull her punch. "Come on, baby, let's blow this joint! We've got some celebrating to do!" Dick shouted.
Dolly let him to a table and pushed him into a chair. She sat down beside him. Her mood was very clinical. "Dick, I'm very happy you got what you wanted. Now, it's my turn. I want a divorce. By letting me know how badly you wanted to make the team, you caused me to lose all respect for you. I want out, and the sooner the better."
"Well that suits me just fine, Dolly wolly. Who wants to take sloppy seconds to a nigger anyway?"
"I don't want to make a scene."
"So who's making a scene? I'm just stating a fact. That black mother-fucker got my job and my woman. What am I supposed to do, like it?"
"But you said you were celebrating."
"Sure I'm cellar ... celery ... celebrating. I'm blowing this fucking town. Why shouldn't I be celerybrating?"
"What happened?"
"They like the coon's action, that's what."
"Where will you go."
"Down the road. I'll find something."
"I'll go with you."
"No you won't. Oh, you may be able to forgive me, but I couldn't forgive myself. You should have seen us out there. The blind leading the blind. That cocksucker was so bushed he had trouble walking."
"Then what went wrong?"
"I couldn't walk at all. I couldn't sleep last night, I was so excited about today. About three in the morning I get a knock at the door and there's this chick. I let her in and we balled all night." He staggered to his feet. "She's waiting for me outside, so I gotta go. When I sober up in the morning I'll cry like a baby, but no tears tonight. Take care of yourself."
"Do I know her?"
"Maybe. The name Helen Wilson mean anything to you: "No."
"Well, that's it. Wish me luck."
"No."
"Well, I do." He grabbed a drink. "Here's to me, everybody! Good luck, Dick Horton! You'll need it!" He downed the drink and staggered out.
Norman came to the table. "What happened?"
"He lost. I'll tell you about it when you're older."
"Come home with me?"
"Fuck you." She hurried up to the bar. "Double scotch."
Nick poured and she downed it. "All over between you two?"
"That's about the size of it."
"Dolly, I ... "
Johnny laughed. "Methinks the lady is uptight."
"And fuck you, you queer son of a bitch." She turned to the rest of the crowd. "And fuck you all! And to all a goodnight!" She grabbed a bottle and ran from the room.
Norman closed the joint slobbering all over Johnny. "Why won't she have anything to do with me?"
"She just doesn't dig you, man. When are you going to wise up to that?" , "But she does. I can tell. When a person gives you a blow job, you can tell how they feel about you by the way they do it."
Johnny, just this side of oblivion himself, started crying and put his arms around Norman, who let it pass. "Oh, you're right," he sobbed. "You're so right. I do love you, Norman."
"What does that have to do with Dolly?"
"She didn't eat you that night. I did."
Norman excused himself to go to the head. Most men Norman's size could not have gotten out the little window in the John, but he did and never came back.
CHAPTER SIX
Billy Black's convalescence was a very slow process, and Jane Conklin was with him throughout it. They took long walks down the beach when Billy was able and stayed up all night on many occasions talking, mostly about Billy and his life and his town. It was obvious to everyone, except Billy, that she was very much in love with him. She played his game well. Every conquest he talked about, she fabricated one to match it. He felt safe with her. She was a good friend. He even made a couple of passes at her, but she declined in such a friendly way that he was certain that she wanted nothing of him but companionship.
Their nightly journeys inevitably wound up at the pier. It was finished, all one thousand feet of it. In two weeks it would be open to the public, and Billy vowed that no one, at least as long as he was alive, would ever fish from it.
"How does that feel, you evil cocksucker?" he said one night as he peed into one of the pier's many drinking fountains. "Hey Jane, did you feel that?" he added excitedly. "What?"
"She shook. She trembled a little. I'm getting to her. That's right, you whore, I'm pissing down your mouth."
"I didn't feel anything."
"Oh, but I did," he said, shaking his cock dry and folding it back inside his slacks. "I'm going to make it. If there was ever a doubt before, it's all erased now. I've broken through."
"I don't understand."
"Look at it this way. Everything in the Universe is made of matter. You, me, trees, dirt, even this fucking pier, everything has atoms. And the atoms float around one another. And they communicate, or at least, they all have the power to communicate with one another. Now, people communicate with words, which is a shitty, meaningless way to communicate; because words can mean anything you want them to mean. Feelings, emotions, are the only true way to communicate. But when people feel, it scares the shit out of them; and they start talking and explain everything away.
"Now. I have a feeling of intense hatred for this pier. Every night for the past month I have come out here, and my atoms have communicated hatred to the atoms of this pier. I'm breaking her spirit. How does a cowboy break a horse?"
"I don't know. Tell me, Lone Ranger, how does a cowboy break a horse?"
"Through feeling. Through emotion. Oh, sure he rides her, and she gets a little pissed because she can't throw him, but that's secondary. Everyday he comes out he looks at her, and without speaking he says, I'm going to beat you.
I'm going to make you submit. And that's what does it. The power of one will over another. Boxers win before they get into the ring. Pitchers strike men out and sluggers hit home runs before they go to the ball park. And I'm going to destroy this bridge. I'm stronger and smarter and prettier than she is."
"And that's going to keep the funny people away?"
"Sure. Look, it isn't easy to keep any area unspoiled these days. We've got a crime rate second to none, except maybe New York's Lower East Side; and that takes a lot of work."
"I don't follow you."
"Me and my friends constantly report robberies that never happen. like I don't own a television set, yet I've reported the theft of seventeen television sets during the last year. And the dope thing. We all talk about dope, but you don't really see very much of it."
"Does Daddy know about that?"
"Know about it? He helps us. How else do you think we manage to get all of that money in reform programs from the state? Every time your old man puts on one of his Hollywood suits and makes an impassioned plea on television, our economy jumps up like a jack rabbit."
They started walking back to Billy's house. He saw Gloria near his back door and pulled Jane under the lifeguard station. "Stay here for about thirty minutes, then come around to the front door and bang on it as hard as you can." He ran to Gloria. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead at her feet. "Gloria, darling!" he shouted, embracing her with a bear hug so she couldn't hit him.
"Where have you been, you son of a bitch."
"In Mexico, like I said. You wouldn't believe what happened down there!"
"And furthermore, I don't want to hear about it. Where's my car?"
"Your car? How can you think about your car at a time like this? I tell you, I was almost killed. I got off the main road, and these four banditos attacked me from horseback."
"Banditos? You're fucking crazy."
"I swear to you. It was just like being in a Pancho Villa movie. They blocked the road and pulled me out of the car and beat the shit out of me. Where do you think I got these scars:
"I heard you had a big fight with Nick Mykonos."
"Big fight? Nonsense. Oh, we had a little misunderstanding, but these Mexican bastards really meant business. Big fellows, all six of them, with busy mustaches and ammunition belts across their chests. First they tear off all my clothes and tie me to this motherfucking anthill with the biggest goddamned red ants you ever saw. I swear they were the size of small mice, and they just bit the shit out of me. I nearly passed out from the pain, but I concentrated on you. I thought about your beautiful face and lovely body, and I imagined we were making love." As he talked, Billy spread his hand over her tits and massaged both of her nipples at the same time. His other hand strayed to her snatch and he grabbed her and hung on with the tenacity of a crab.
"I don't believe a word you say," Gloria said, panting like a winded runner, "but I sure like to hear you talk." She kissed him hard, nearly sucking his tongue right out of his mouth.
Billy felt the muscles anchoring his tongue begin to tear, and he pulled away from her. "Then, this big, wise-ass ant found my dick and took a healthy bite out of the head. He must have liked it, because he called in all his budies and they had a feast.
"I passed out, and when I woke up, they beat me with whips and clubs. Then they all took turns fucking me, and they really tore me a new ass-hole. When they got tired, one of them shoved his cold rifle barrel up my bleeding ass and was about to pull the trigger, when one of the others decided it would be a big kick to throw me off this cliff and into the rampaging rapids of the river about a half mile below. Miraculously I was washed out to sea.
"Now, here's the bad part of the story: These fishermen picked me up ... evil motherfuckers, every one of them. And they ... "
Gloria kissed him again, unzipping his fly as she explored the inside of his mouth with her hungry tongue. "Take me to bed," she moaned. "I want to examine your ant bites."
"But what about the rest of the story?"
"Some other time, perhaps."
They went upstairs, undressed and got into bed. Gloria ate him. She had a special way of applying just the right amount of pressure to his glans penis. If there had ever been a World Cocksucking competition, Billy would have entered Gloria without a second thought. But tonight, something was wrong. She pulled and sucked as usual, but his tool remained soft. She even gave him a hand job with baby oil. Still nothing.
"This is ridiculous," Billy said. He directed all of his concentration onto the head of his cock. Then, the strain of his efforts clearly showing on his face, he willed it to rise. It came up about an inch, wavered, then fell back into a completely limp state. He was worried, but made no reference to his fear that something might be drastically wrong with him.
"What's wrong, lover?" Gloria said with a frown.
"Nothing. I'm a little tired, that's all. Well screw in a minute, but first, I got this great attachment for my vibrator. Here, let me show you." He took his vibrator out of the drawer in the nightstand. It had a latex phallus fixed upon it. Billy flipped it on and nosed it into her slit and up against her clit.
"Oh, my! That's nice," she said, hunching around the buzzing machine.
"Like it?" His knees were on the floor and he serviced Gloria from that position, while secretly beating his sleeping meat with his other hand.
"It's so tingly. Nothing like you, but it ll do till you come around, sweetheart."
"You're just saying that to make me feel good." He grinned broadly, but his heart wasn't in it, since he hadn't managed to get any expansion at all out of his pecker. Where the hell is Jane? he thought.
He pushed the rubber dick into her cunt, and she screamed the scream usually reserved for rape and roller coaster rides. The damn thing was fourteen inches long, and Billy thought he should be hitting bottom; but Gloria's pussy (as though it had a mind of its own) kept reaching out for another fraction of an inch, like a young bird determined to swallow the longest worm it had ever encountered.
"Oh, yes, darling, more! Just a little more!"
"But there's nothing left but the motor!"
"That ll be fine."
"Gloria, the damn thing's hot, and it's as big as a Softball."
"I didn't ask for a list of specifications. Push!"
Billy pushed and his expression turned to one of horror as the mouth of her snatch gobbled up the small appliance. The only evidence remaining was the electric cord running out of her pussy. Ah, Billy thought, what Mattel wouldn't give for the blueprint to that one.
"That's enough," Gloria said. "Feels just right."
"Shit, is that all you can take? I was hoping you had room for me, too."
"Always willing to try a new twist. Climb on."
Billy looked down at the withered tool in his hand and wished he had kept his mouth shut. Jane bailed him out by banging on the front door. Billy ran to the front window flung it open, looked out, then ducked back in. "Oh, my God, I've got to get you out of here!"
"What's wrong?"
"No time to discuss it now," he shouted, yanking the plug to the vibrator out of the wall. "Move!"
"I can't get it out! It's stuck! Turn it back on again. Maybe I can work it out if it's moving."
"Sorry," he said, gathering up her clothes, "you'll just have to take it with you." He grabbed her hand, pulled her down the stairs, pushed her out the back door and handed her her clothes. "I'll call you in a few minutes," he said and slammed the door.
An old retired couple, taking a moonlight stroll, eyed Gloria curiously as she ran past them, the cord trailing behind her. "What in tarnation do you suppose that is, George?" asked the woman.
"Beats me, Martha," answered the old fellow. "I told you would've renewed our subscription to Screw. The world is passin' us by."
Billy slipped on his pants and let Jane in, laughing hysterically. "What in the world was going on in here? It sounded like a herd of stampeding cattle."
Billy explained what he had done and after enough time had elapsed for Gloria to get home, he fell on the floor and did about fifty pushups, then dialed Gloria's number. She answered.
"Hey, baby," he said, huffing and puffing, "this guy's going to put my lights out. No! No, don't! Baby, he's got a gun in one hand and a whip in the other, and he's beating the living shit out of me! You got to help me out."
"What can I do, Billy?"
"Look, now, don't get jealous, but I balled his old lady a couple of years ago, and she just told him about it this morning. Well, she also told him that she had lent me some bread and I didn't pay her back, which was true. It had slipped my mind. Anyway, he's beating me 'cause he's hot about me making it with her; but if I don't come up with the money, he's going to kill me!"
"How much?"
"I gave him everything I had, but I'm short."
"How much?"
"Glo, you don't know how it hurts me to involve you in this thing, sweetheart. I'd cut off my right arm to keep from having to ... "
"For God's sake, Billy, how much does the man want?"
"Uh, five hundred."
"I don't have that much. Ask him if he will wait till the bank opens in the morning."
"He doesn't look like he's in a waiting mood. I swear this man has the meanest eyes I've ever seen."
"Plead with him! Beg him!"
"Okay, hold on." He didn't cover the receiver as he talked to Jane. "Hey, man, this chick will come up with the bread; but she can't get it until tomorrow morning. Give me a break, huh? I'm begging you. Oh, goddamn! Son of a bitch, don't hit me again!" He got back on the phone. "He said he'd wait. Which bank is that?"
"First National. The one on Culver Boulevard."
"Right. See you in the morning. Sleep well." He hung up, very pleased with himself.
"She didn't go for that string of bullshit, did she?" Jane asked.
"Hook, line and five-hundred dollar bill. I'm going to quit fucking with Gloria's mind one of these days. It's getting too easy." He grinned like a little boy who had just stolen a box of rubbers from the drugstore. "But it sure is fun."
Jane laughed. "If you can get away with it, more power to you. She must enjoy it."
"Oh, she does. Her old man worked himself to death and left her more money than she knows what to do with. If she'd think about that call just now, she wouldn't believe a word of it. But she wants to believe that she is of some value in this world. Every once in a while I help her out and let her do something nice for me."
"Under that veneer of rudeness, you're really an evil son of a bitch."
"I know. I've known that for a long time." They both laughed until their sides hurt. "I like you," Billy said after their roaring had subsided.
"I like you, too."
There was a pause. "Let's ball."
Jane's mood switched like a bolt of lightning. She sat up in her chair and glared at him. "No way, Charlie!"
"Not because I like you. Just for fun."
"Yeah, I've heard that one before. Let's do it just for kicks. Then come the flowers and the phone calls and pretty soon this goon is slobbering all over himself just for a chance to smell your armpit. Who needs it? Not me."
"Some cat must have hurt you real good."
"Wrong. Look, I was born selfish, grew up selfish, and I'm still selfish. No man can give me what I want, because I want everything. If you don't believe me, just ask my father. He's paid plenty."
"Now, now, seriously. I really don't like you that way. I like you like a sister."
"If you had a sister, would you want to ball her?"
"Probably. Incest can be fun. We used to call it 'rolling your own'. " Jane laughed and Billy kissed her, catching her off guard. It was their first kiss; and Billy who had only wanted to give her pleasure, got a lot more than he bargained for. He felt as though he were falling into a deep, dark well, and he pulled away from her before he hit bottom, then quickly covered his feelings by saying, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Jane slowly pulled his head back to her and kissed him. In a moment they were both as high as dope fiends. The next thing either remembers was Billy entering her with great tenderness. How they got out of their clothes and how they got from the couch to the floor were questions that would forever remain a mystery to them.
Simultaneously he worked his tongue inside her sweet mouth and his cock inside the hot, gripping satin of her vagina. His mind wasn't so far gone that he didn't have a chance to concentrate on his erection. It was so hard a cat couldn't have scratched it, and that fact brought him all sorts of gratifying reassurances.
They were working together as though they had invented fucking. Jane's moans were soft, little releases of pent up emotion. She imagined herself back on ship, looking at Billy through the glasses. This was the biggest fantasy of all: to have him inside of her, holding her, kissing her, giving pleasure to and (maybe most of all) getting pleasure from her.
Billy couldn't account for the inordinate amount of sweat pouring from his body. His life juices seemed to be flowing into the tall, beautiful girl in his arms. He knew he was having her, yet he wanted more. He could feel his cock expanding to an even greater size, drawing his skin so tight he was afraid it would tear. And he could feel her responding to him, bearing down against his thrusting weapon with adrenalin-fed, super-human pressure.
They reached the edge of climax at the same time, and Billy stopped moving. He wasn't holding back as he had so often done to prolong the experience. He stopped moving so he could devote his full attention to what was about to happen. Everything froze: time, space, Jane; and he savored all that was about him. He reveled in his own excitement, he enjoyed the glassy-eyed look of total contentment in Jane's eyes. He noticed the way her hair flowed around her shoulders and the scarlet flush building up in her cheeks. He was aware of her heartbeat, her long fingernails on his arm and the magnificent sculptured quality of her mouth.
"Oh. Ohhhh. Oh, Billy. OHHHHH!"
Billy moved a fraction of an inch and upset the delicate balance between this world and the other. In getting their rocks off they created an avalanche and clung to one another in desperate fear of losing their lives. Billy, crushing Jane with a bear hug, rolled her over on top of him, screaming at the top of his lungs as his rod exploded again and again. He feared a chain reaction had been set off, and his machine gun would never stop firing.
Jane had been told by experts that the woman never feels semen shooting into her body. As Billy's bullets of come riddled the waiting walls of her cunt, the thought flashed through her mind that these same experts had never been properly fucked. She felt every drop of him as vividly as she would have had he gone off in her mouth. She was being ripped apart by orgasm after orgasm, each one more exciting and stronger than the last. All systems screamed go! Her sweat glands, her salivary glands, and her bowels all let go at the same moment and she collapsed upon Billy's chest.
They lay motionless for a long time.
"See, Virginia," Billy said, "there is recreational value in sex."
"Do you think it will ever replace night baseball?"
"No, but leap frog is in jeopardy. Nobody I know has been able to complete their jump lately."
Jane stood and gave the room a minute to stop spinning. "You do this sort of thing pretty well, Billy Black," she said, damming the small river of come running down her leg with a Kleenex.
"Pretty well? Shit."
"I think I can give you a B-plus."
"Bring me the cat who made an A, and I'll kiss his ass."
"Oh, there have been a few. I had to deduct from your score because you forgot to say thank you."
"Dig this," Billy said, reaching for the phone and started dialing.
"Who are you calling?"
"Listen. Hello, John? Billy Black." Pause. "Same to you, fella. Listen, I'm sending Jane home to get her shit." Pause. "Yeah, she's here." Pause. "Nothing much. Just fucking around." Pause. "You moronic cocksucker, if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times, the word is pervert, not prevert!" Pause. "Shut up and listen, you old fart. We're going to get married!" Pause. "What do you mean you're not surprised?" As Billy listened, his expression changed to one of intense hatred, and he glared at Jane and hung up.
"What ... what did he say?" Jane said nervously, wishing she had pockets in which to put her hands. "He said he knew all about it."
"All about what?"
"He said you told him you were in love with me."
"It's a lie!"
"I don't think so. All that shit about how you didn't give a damn about men. That was a lie, wasn't it."
"What the fuck does he know?"
Billy jumped up and grabbed her by the hair on her head and yanked. "Wasn't it?"
"No, I don't give a shit about any of you bastards! And that goes for my old man! Stop! You're hurting me."
"Tell me you don't love me."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Say it!" He yanked harder. "I don't love you!"
He released her and she started crying. I don't believe you, Jane. You've been making a fool of me."
"You hardly need any help from anyone for that."
"Take a walk."
"No cat ever had to invite me out of his pad twice."
She dressed in silence, fighting back the tears. She looked like a little girl whose dog had just been run over. Without looking at him, she ran toward the stairs.
"Wait!" Billy shouted. She stopped. "You want to stay?"
"Yes."
"And you still insist that you think of me only as a friend?"
"That's right."
"Want to prove it."
"How?"
"Let's have another couple over. Sort of a toy orgy."
"Suits me. Who do you want?"
"Dolly Horton. How about you?"
"I have a choice?"
"Sure. What else are friends for?"
"All right. I want Nick Mykonos."
"So be it."
Jane took a shower while Billy made the phone calls. She didn't see or hear him slip in behind her. He started to lather her back, and she pulled away as though touched by something unclean. "Get them?"
"Yeah." He laughed. "I don't know what's gotten into Nick. He acted as though he didn't want to see me. I told him you'd meet him at his house at three a.m."
"Fine. And what did Dolly say?"
"She said yes. I didn't even have to work or. her."
"Must be nice to be so irresistible."
"It has its good points."
They dressed and Jane left, passing Dolly on the front porch. "My, business is good tonight," Dolly said.
Billy took her coat and threw it in the corner. "Look, do you want to talk or fuck?"
"You sure are a romantic son of a bitch!"
"I took your coat. What the shit do you want, a 'hello' kiss?"
"Nope. I just want to get laid." She was out of her costume in a flash and struck a Playboy centerfold pose. "Do you think you can handle it?"
Even Billy was impressed by Dolly's custom-made tits, but he didn't show any appreciation. He liked her trim waist and the roll of her belly. This was just what the doctor ordered. "Does a wild bear shit in the woods?" was his delayed answer.
Nick was a bit more gracious. He mixed Jane a drink and they talked trivia on his couch for a few minutes. "Was she over there?" he said, when the conversation lagged.
"Who?"
"Dolly. She's a well-built blonde."
"Yeah, she was there. Why?"
"No reason." He downed his drink. "Someday I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."
"Why didn't you when you had the chance."
"You can't say I didn't give it a whirl." There was a pause. "You ready."
"Sure."
They went upstairs and undressed, looking forward to what was about to take place with the excitement of condemned prisoners going to a double hanging. They lay on opposite sides of the bed for a long time before Nick put his arms around her and kissed the soft hollow between her breasts. She became tense. She was still trembling from Billy's kisses; and she tried to imagine that these new lips were his, but it didn't work.
"Jane, would it be all right if ... if I just held you?"
"Give me a few minutes, Nick. I can make it. I know I can."
"I wasn't talking about you. It's Dolly. I'm so strung out on that chick, I don't know my own name."
Jane hugged him tightly. "You think you've got problems. I'm in love with Billy."
Nick shook his head in sympathy and returned her embrace. "Oh, you poor, poor soul. And I think I've got problems. Jane, you're a beautiful girl. You're intelligent, from a good family. How did you manage to get your head so fucked up?"
"There's a good side to him. I may be the only one to have ever seen it."
"So what? I understand Hitler was very good to his dog. Put him out of your mind. He'll kill you."
"Maybe. But there is a chance. He responds to me, Nick. I know he doesn't want to, but he can't help it."
"He will! And you can bet everything you own on that."
"Where did he come from? Have you ever seen his parents?"
"Nobody knows. As far as his parents are concerned, it is unlikely that he ever had any. He just appeared on the beach one day, wearing that T-shirt and those funky red trunks. I was playing volley ball, and he asked if he could join us and I said sure. He's a flawless volley ball player, the best I've ever seen. I asked him where he learned to play so well, and he said here in Venus, that this was his home. I hadn't been here very long at the time, so I let it pass. Came to fine out later that no one had ever seen him before that morning.
"We played most of the day. I wasn't married at the time, but I was pretty serious about this sharp-looking coed from UCLA. She followed me around like a puppy dog. She was so love-sick I dated her for a while out of pity, and we had planned to make it for the first time. Anyway, I noticed something happening between them. You know how you can tell when something's in the air. You can pick up on the vibes when somebody's getting zonked. I didn't think anything bout it, but I turn around and they're gone. I asked this guy what had happened, and he said Billy offered to let her take a shower at his place, and they went off together. That's the last time I ever saw her. The boy has talent. I've never doubted that for a minute."
The phone rang and Nick picked it up. "Hello."
"Nick, can I come over?" It was Dolly.
"What for?" he answered coolly. "You want to bust up a few of my lamps?"
"No. I want you, Nick. The girl doesn't have to leave or anything. I won't get in the way, I promise. Please, let me come over."
"Dolly, I told you in the bar that there was only one person on the face of this earth that would cause me to turn sour on you, and you picked him. I'm busy. Why don't you go back to your party? "
"There is no party. Lover boy couldn't get it up. Not that I could have done him any good if he had. Please forgive me, darling. I'm just a stupid, stubborn little fool."
"Put Black on the line!" Nick said with a grin.
"He's gone."
"Where?"
"I don't know. He said he had a date with a pier."
Jane ran all the way from Nick's house, and when she got to the pier, Billy was nowhere in sight. She ran up and down the full length of it several times, calling his name. It was still pitch black and she sat on the sand, waiting for the sun to come up.
About an hour later, just as the dawn was beginning to break, she saw something move in the water and ran toward it, forgetting to take off her shoes. It was Billy, wearing a black rubber suit, stringing wire to one of the posts.
"Billy, what are you doing?"
"Go home, Jane," he whispered, running the wire to a plunge-type detonator. "The old girl is tired. I'm going to put her out of her misery."
"No, you can't! They ll put you in jail!"
"How? There's a boat waiting for me about a hundred yards out there. I'll be in Mexico in the morning."
"Take me with you."
"No."
"Please, Billy."
"Forget it. There might have been a chance for us. Slim, but a chance. Then you had to go fuck things up. Broads! Who the shit needs them?" He pushed the plunger, and Jane held her ears. Billy laughed. "You idiot. Do you think there would be a bite-sized piece of you left if this thing went off?"
"I wouldn't care. And don't tell me I'm being dramatic. I didn't lie to you when I told you I was selfish. I love you, Billy Black. I'm going to follow you to Mexico, and I'll rip every hair out of the head of any woman who makes a pass at you, or you try to take to bed with you."
"You're going to wind up with enough hair to start your own mattress company."
"But you need me. I'mthe only friend you have left in the world."
He laughed. "Tell me another one. But hurry, showtime is in ten minutes."
"You love me."
"You should see a doctor, you know that?"
With tears streaming out of her eyes, she put her arms around him. "Okay, it's your turn. Tell me you don't love me."
"Get away from me, Jane!"
"No, I'm not moving until you tell me!"
"Hey, this thing is going to blow!"
"So let it blow! Who GIVES A FUCK?! "
He hit her with a hard closed-fisted right, and she fell. Blood gushed from her lip, and she smiled at him.
"Jane, I ... " Billy took one step toward her, got his feet tangled in the wire and fell, striking his head on the base of the last post. He didn't move. Jane slapped him to revive him, but he was unconscious. She took the two wires running into the detonator, shut her eyes, gritted her teeth and pulled! It was over. She opened her eyes very slowly and saw four guards running toward her.
A few minutes later, a doctor came and examined Billy Black. "What happened?"
"He hit his head on that post," Jane said.
"There's no blood. Not even a bump."
"It was just a glancing blow. Hell be all right."
"Lady, this man is dead." She didn't speak. "Look, I have to make out a report. What's his name?" She couldn't answer.
"That's Billy Black," said one of the guards. "Everybody knows that son of a bitch."
It was a beautiful day for the ceremony.
Fingers, dressed in new clothes, kept pulling at the bow tie that irritated his throat. With the new front and all new fixtures, no one recognized his store. He had just rented Dolly and Dick's apartment to newly weds, but he was so swamped with business he couldn't take a break to see how they were doing. Several times that day he spat on the floor in disgust and quickly bent over and wiped it up with his handkerchief.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is indeed a great day for our little city." Mayor Conklin, dressed entirely in white, spoke through his best smile into the television cameras and to thousands gathered around the pier. "This is the beginning of a new Venus. One that can stand shoulder to shoulder with any decent community in the world."
He took the oversized scissors and placed them over the ribbon stretched across the entry to the pier. "This will certainly be a day we shall remember for a ... " He froze. The ground began to shake. "What's that?" he asked Fats.
"Just a tremor."
The tremor stopped, but the pier kept vibrating. The men jumped to the ground as the mighty structure crumbled and collapsed into the ocean.
All hell broke lose on the beach. Women screaming "Graft!" hit the city fathers with their purses. A religious cultist group chanted the world was coming to an end, stripped off all their clothes and swam to meet their maker. Irish Bob was almost trampled to death as he snapped pictures.
Jane Conklin kicked off her shoes and started walking North, following the shoreline. Although tears were rolling down her face, she smiled and kept walking. She walked all day and all night. Around noon of the next day, she sat down on the sand to rest and fell asleep.
