Her voice was smothered as I covered her soft, smooth lips with mine. She was passive, unresisting and limp in my arms as she leaned back against the cabinet and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her.
Hot, fiery hunger for her immediately began to arise in me as I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her back, feeling only the warm softness of her body, with no bra strap.
I slid my tongue between her lips and a tiny quiver raced through her as a small murmur of protest came from her throat. I held her tighter as she started to move away from me, tracing the tip of my tongue around the inside of her lips and feeling the edges of her teeth.
She suddenly came alive in my arms, surging against me, her warm breath fanning my cheek as she bit and sucked at my tongue. I could feel myself hardening as I dug my fingers into her flesh, pulling her tight against me. She relaxed her mouth and opened it wide as I slid my tongue to the back of her throat....
CHAPTER ONE
The laundromat was filthy, but it was warm from the washers and dryers, and from the small, rusty heater up against the ceiling which shook and rattled as it blew a stream of warm, kerosene-smelling air. I settled myself more comfortably on the hard, straight bench and glanced at the Chicano chick again. She had settled her baby on the bench beside her and was looking at a tattered magazine she had picked up. She was young, about twenty or so, and she was attractive enough to make me forget my fatigue. The heavy maxie she wore entirely concealed her figure, but it was pleasant to look at her and guess. She was about five four or so, and probably within a few pounds of a hundred and ten. Her hair was so black it seemed almost blue, and it hung in thick masses over the back and shoulders of the coat. Her ankles and feet were small and dainty, but the shoes she wore were scuffed and old. The maxie was also worn in spots and the ribbon in her hair was faded. She was an attractive girl, but one caught in the treadmill of poverty of East Chicago. A beautiful flowering lily with its roots in muddy swamp water.
A harder gust of wind rattled the plate glass window. It had a long, diagonal crack across it which had been repaired with round pieces of wood held in place with bolts. It had been cracked long ago, because the pieces of wood were warped and weathered, and the grime and soot which covered the rest of the window had built up around them. I could barely see the glow of headlights and neon lights on the street outside through the condensation and filth on the glass. The wind rattled the plate glass window and the sagging door again, and I wrapped my arms around myself, dropping my chin on my chest. I hadn't meant to remain this far north until hard winter had set in, but the chick in Rockford had been beautiful and willing, and the days had slipped by. At least until her father and brother had arrived on the scene to see why she hadn't been attending classes at the City College. Then it had been time to leave. I had left, and my ride had brought me only as far as Chicago. I'd wanted to go on, but night, rain, and the icy wind on the freeway entrance had convinced me to stay over for a few hours to wash my dirty clothes and wait for daylight.
The door burst open, and frigid air poured through it as two teenagers entered, looking around. Their eyes passed over me with a casual glance, then they lighted on the chick and they grinned at each other as one of them kicked the door closed. "Brrrrrrrr, it's a cold motherfucker out there," one of them said to the other in a loud voice, looking at the chick again. "Yeah, it would freeze the balls off a brass monkey," the other agreed. "I'm so cold my pecker is trying to climb up my asshole to stay warm."
They laughed raucously as they moved toward a couple of battered dispensing machines in the corner. One of them brushed against the chick as he passed her, and the chick moved her feet slightly, her eyes fixed on the magazine in her lap. She was trying to act as though she wasn't bothered by their presence or conduct, but I could see a pale line around her full lips, and the small fingers holding the page of the magazine were trembling slightly.
The two dug in their pockets for change, put coins in the candy machine, and finally selected the candy they wanted after a long, loud, and profane conversation about it. One of them pulled the lever below the column, and nothing happened. They beat and pummeled the machine, rocking it from side to side, then finally selected another kind. The candy bar dropped out, then they began wrestling over it. They punched and shoved each other back and forth, and one of them stumbled against the chick, almost knocking her over on top of her baby. He apologized facetiously, acting like a fool as he bowed and scraped, and his friend doubled over in laughter as he watched. The chick gathered up her baby and moved a couple of feet further along the bench, anger and fright making her face pale and her lips tremble.
"See what you did, motherfucker," the one who had bumped against her said, walking toward the other one. "You almost pushed me on top of the lady." He accented the word "lady," looking back at the chick with a sneer.
"You mean you were almost on top of her?" the other one crowed. "Shit, I didn't see it, man."
"Well, the night's not over yet, man," the first one shouted, laughing. "Just stick the fuck around, and you might see a lot of things. Let's get a coke to go with the candy."
They split the candy bar and shoved it in their mouths, chewing noisily and smacking their lips as they beat on the drink machine to see if one would fall out, then they began putting coins into it to buy one when one didn't. I knew their type well, because they were everywhere. Lazy and indolent, nurtured by a society sufficiently affluent to feed its disease. They lacked the initiative to work, yet they were bred in a sick, misdirected philosophy that their shortcomings were the fault of the society, not theirs. They drifted along as the currents of life carried them, envious of what others had earned yet unwilling to exert themselves and existing as parasites on that which they feigned to scorn. Now penniless, they sought recreation in inflicting terror and pain on the helpless.
They handed the can of coke back and forth, drinking it in noisy swallows, then one of them held the empty can between his hands and drop kicked it against the wall with a noise clatter. He was the one who had stumbled deliberately against the chick, and he seemed to be the leader of the two. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he turned toward her again, winked at his companion, then walked toward her.
"Let's see what you have there," he said to her, sitting on the bench by her and jerking the magazine from her hand. He glanced at it, then threw it across the row of washing machines. "Shit, cunt, that's nothing. Come on out to the car, and I'll show you some magazines worth looking at. I've got some that show it all, and maybe they'll give you some ideas."
"Leave me alone," she said in a frightened voice, moving away from him as he tried to put his arm around her.
"It's going to happen, it's going to happen, cunt," he said, seizing the shoulder of her coat. "I'm going to get it off with you, and you can either make it hard on yourself or-"
"Get away from the chick and leave her alone."
All three of them looked at me as though they had forgotten I was there. The girl looked relieved and hopeful, there was a calculating look in the eyes of the one who was mauling her, and the other one was watching him, waiting for his cue. He got it.
"A motherfucking knight in shining armor," the leader snarled, getting up from the bench and standing between the bench and the row of washing machines, his feet splayed apart. His hand moved to his pocket, there was a metallic snap, and the cold gleam of the switchblade shone in the raw, harsh illumination of the flickering fluorescents. "You're going to be a sick cocksucker tonight, Jack. You're going to wish you'd never beat your gums at me."
"Put the knife away and leave. I'll say it one time."
There was a thoughtful look in his eyes for an instant as it occurred to him to wonder why I wasn't afraid. There were two of them and one of me, he had a knife, and it wasn't right that I was coolly sitting and watching him. Still, his mind operated only within the narrow confines of experience which the slums had provided, and the fact that I was alone and unarmed could only be interpreted that I was at a disadvantage. The sneer and greedy anticipation of using the knife on me spread over his face again and he began moving slowly toward me as his companion began moving in. White, stark fear was on the chick's face, and she made an abortive movement to gather up her baby and flee. He heard her slight movement and turned toward her, and she sank back down on the bench as he wordlessly warned her with the point of the knife.
"Stand up and take it motherfucker," he hissed, motioning me up from the bench with his free hand as he inched forward, his companion at his shoulder. "Stand up so I can take my time doing it. First I'm going to cut your face so everyone will know what happened, then you're going to get down on your hands and knees to suck my dick. If you make it good enough, I won't hurt you too bad-"
He broke off in surprise as I darted across the ten feet separating us and my toe dug solidly into his companion's midriff with a meaty thud. He made an abortive attempt to stab at me with the knife, but by the time the point of it was moving toward me I was five feet away. His mouth hung open in astonishment as he looked down at his companion, who was slowly writhing on the floor in convulsive throes which curled his body in a tight knot, then released it. Each time his knees and head snapped toward each other, a gush of blood-tinged vomit burst from his mouth and an anguished groan came from deep in his chest. The thoughtful, unsure light came back into his eyes as he looked down at his companion on the dirty cement floor then looked at me again. His mind was struggling to assimilate something which shouldn't have happened; I shouldn't have attacked, and the nature of the attack had been too quick to be possible.
"No, don't try to leave," I said as his eyes flicked toward the door. "If you do, I'll kill you.
Just keep on coming toward me, and do what you were going to do."
His was the courage of a cur accustomed to attacking his victims as part of a pack. He was now faced with the possibility that his adversary was a wolf, and he was alone. His attempt at a sneering smile was a sickly grimace as he tried to shrug indifferently. "I ain't trying to trip you out, man. I mean, well, fuck, we were just trying to have a little fun and we weren't-"
"No, that won't do. I warned you, and you didn't listen. Now it's too late. Keep on coming toward me."
"I don't know where you're coming from, Jack. I ain't got no beef with you. I don't care if you split out and-"
He broke off again and looked at me, his craven fear plain on his face as I moved toward him. His companion had stopped vomiting, and he was lying in the sour pool of his filth as he vainly tried to catch his breath, his eyes wide and staring and his body shaking all over as choked, rasping sounds came from his lips. I had kicked him harder than I had meant to, because the blood in the foam and slime on his lips indicated internal injuries, possibly serious injuries. The one with the knife suddenly tried to leap over the washing machines to get to the door. He was pitifully slow. I moved forward and caught a handful of his coat, then jerked him back. The knife flew from his hand as he fell heavily to the floor on his back, the wind gushing from his lungs with a hoarse grunt. I bent over him and closed my fingers to grip his nose with the pressure of a vise. His mouth opened wide and tears of pain suddenly flooded his eyes as blood began seeping from his nostrils. I lifted, and he struggled to raise himself to his feet to follow my hand upward. The thick soles and heels of his shoes beat a tattoo on the cement floor as they slipped in the vomit, then he got a grip on one of the washing machines and pulled himself to his feet.
Blood spurted from his nose as I released it. He choked and gasped as he slumped against the washing machine, touching his nose tenderly with the tips of his fingers.
"I warned you to leave and you didn't, so I have to hurt you. You realize that, don't you?"
"No more," he whimpered, shaking his head and cowering against the washing machine. "Don't do no more to me, man. I'll suck your dick for you or do whatever you say, but don't do nothing else to me...."
It was sickening, but again he was falling back on experience. In the rules of the slums, the cur which has just viciously mangled the kitten will lie on his back and spread his legs apart to cower before a larger or more powerful dog in abject submission.
"Don't hurt him anymore," the chick said quietly as I seized his arm, preparing to break it at the elbow. The piece of shit I was preparing to punish uttered a whimper of pain and fright as I held his arm straight, putting pressure on his elbow, and her eyes were wide and frightened from what had happened, but she nodded firmly. "Please. Please don't do it."
I shoved him away and stepped back. "Get the other one up, and get out of here. You have the chick to thank for keeping you out of the hospital, but you might not be so lucky the next time."
My words were wasted. As soon as he knew I was letting him go, he darted for the door, ignoring the one who was still lying on the floor in the puddle of vomit. He was beginning to breathe easier, but he was still in bad shape. I looked at the dryer where I had put my clothes; it had stopped running. I went to the bench where I'd been sitting, picked up the musette bag, and walked toward the dryer with it.
"I haven't thanked you for helping me," the chick said, getting up from the bench and following me to the dryers. "I certainly do appreciate it. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been here."
I shrugged as I opened the dryer and began stuffing the clothes into my musette bag. "Forget it, chick. They made me mad, too."
She took a plastic bag from the pocket of her overcoat and unfolded it as she opened the dryer to get her clothes. The bag was patched in a couple of places with masking tape. "I still appreciate it, for whatever reason you did it," she said, then she giggled. "That's no way to take your clothes out of the dryer-they'll get all wrinkled." She laid the plastic bag across the door of the dryer and reached for my musette bag. "Let me do it for you."
"I'd like for you to, chick, but I don't think it's a very good idea to hang around here too long." I nodded toward the young hoodlum who was still lying on the floor, groaning and panting weakly. "The police might come by just to give the place the once-over, and they'd want to know what happened to him. Also, the other one might return with some friends."
The fright came back in her eyes and she nodded tightly as she jerked the bag off the door and began stuffing her clothes into it. "Yes, you're right-I'd better leave, too."
I glanced at the clothes she was putting in the bag; they all belonged to her or the baby, and there were no men's clothes among them. If I had to leave the washateria, I needed somewhere to wait until morning. I pushed the last of my clothes into my musette bag, zipped it closed, then dropped it and reached for the plastic bag. "Here, I'll do that for you. Get your baby, and I'll walk you to your apartment."
My hand closed over hers, and she looked up at me. The fright faded from her face as she looked up at me, thinking, and I looked back down into her large, dark eyes. Her face relaxed, and she nodded, letting me have the bag. "All right. Thank you."
CHAPTER TWO
The wind bit through my clothes as we went out the door. She held the baby inside the maxie as she trotted along the sidewalk, her eyes narrowed against the stinging droplets of rain. There were a few pedestrians, a couple of hookers and a hype or two looking for a pusher, and an occasional car moving slowly along the street. The stores were all closed, but the bars were humming with life which spilled out onto the sidewalk as groups and couples stumbled out, laughing and stumbling as they shivered in the sudden cold.
She slipped and almost fell as she stepped off a curb, and I caught her arm to hold her up. We crossed the street, and I put her bag of clothes under my arm on the side where I was carrying the bag so I could help her along. She glanced up at me and smiled gratefully as she moved closer to me, and we walked along the street with my arm around her and her face turned toward me so the wind wouldn't blow her hair in her eyes.
It was a multi-story brownstone, one which had been occupied by the modestly well-to-do about fifty years previously but which has since become a warren for derelicts, runaways, welfare indigents, and itinerant workers. The raw stench of stale cooking, urine, cheap disinfectant, and years' accumulation of filth struck me solidly in the face as we entered the foyer, and I could hear the blare of radios and TVs, babies crying, and couples fighting as we walked up the stairs. I could tell that she was ashamed of the place, because there was a self-conscious look on her face, and she was trying to appear nonchalant.
She had worked hard to make her apartment as nice as possible. The linoleum was old, scarred, and cracked, but it was spotlessly clean, and there were a few pictures cut from calendars on the walls, a couple of hand-sewn throw cloths on the sagging old divan and the rickety tables, and a cheap, garishly bright shade on the bare bulb which dangled from the center of the combination living room and kitchenette. She put the baby on the couch as I dropped my musette bag by the door and carried her bag of washing to the kitchen table, then she walked toward the stove, unbuttoning the maxie.
"Would you care for some coffee? I have some instant coffee, and you might like something to warm you up after being out in the cold."
She was talking rapidly, ill at ease because we were alone in her apartment. "I would like some coffee, please. My name's Bob Fowler, by the way."
She smiled and nodded at me as she slipped her coat off and draped it over one of the kitchen chairs. "I am Teresa Montoya. Take off your coat, sit down on the couch, and make yourself comfortable. The coffee will be ready in a moment."
She turned toward the stove, and my eyes moved over her figure. I had been mistaken in guessing that she would be nice-she was breathtaking. She was small and petite, with full breasts which thrust out against the thin, light blouse she wore, and her waist was so tiny it looked as though I could span it with my hands. Her hips swelled out from the waist in a graceful, symmetrical curve, and there was a hint of the line of her thighs under the skirt she wore, full and well developed thighs to match the sturdy line of her calves. I turned and walked to the couch to sit down before she caught me staring at her. "Where is your husband, Teresa?" I asked, dropping my coat over the arm of the couch.
She glanced at me as she bent over in front of the stove, adjusting the flame under the kettle. "Oh, he had to go away for a few days-" She broke off, looking at me again, and shrugged. "I might as well tell the truth. He's in prison. They sentenced him to prison last week."
"How long's he in for?"
"Five to fifteen. It was his third conviction, but I didn't know that until last week. I didn't know that he'd been in jail before."
There was a trace of a flat Western inflection in her speech, along with the lilt of her Spanish accent. "You're not from around here, are you?"
She shook her head. "I'm from Tucson. I met Juan last year when he came through there, and we were married about a week later. I continued to live with my father until he sent for me-that was about six months ago. Then when I got here, I found that it wasn't at all like he said ... well, Juan is from this area, and I suppose he didn't know how it would look to one who hasn't seen it before ... he didn't like the desert, but I do, so I suppose...."
Her voice trailed off into silence as she took a couple of cups from the cabinet. "I'm afraid I don't have any cream."
"That's OK. I like it black, without sugar. Do you have a job lined up or something?"
She shook her head again. "When Juan was arrested, I still had some money my father had given me to come here with, but it's almost gone now. I looked for a job last week, but I couldn't find anything. I suppose I could write or call my father, but he's not well off or anything...."
"A woman with a child has a hard time making it. By the time you hire a babysitter or put the baby in a child care center, there won't be much left unless you're making a lot."
"I know-I've thought about that."
The kettle began boiling. She spooned the instant coffee into a couple of cups, poured in the water, then carried them toward the couch. They were mug cups, without saucers. She put one of them in front of me on the old, battered coffee table, then sat down on the other end of the couch and put the other cup down. I picked mine up and sipped it. "Uramnrthat's good. It was cold outside."
She smiled faintly and nodded, then looked down at her hands in her lap as she picked at her fingernails. Her hands were attractive, small and dainty, with long fingers, but her nails were very short and there were indications of roughness on her palms and the back of her hands.
"Well, what do you think you'll do then, Teresa?"
She sighed and gave a small, despondent shrug. "I haven't really thought about it, Bob. I suppose I haven't wanted to think about it. I want to get away from all this," her wave encompassed the apartment and the street outside, "and I want to be able to feed my baby ... be happy somewhere ... get away from these sidewalks, criminals everywhere, and the awful cold...."
I took another sip of coffee and put the cup back on the coffee table. "Teresa, I don't know exactly how you'll take this and I don't really know how to go about saying it, so I'll just say it and see what you think." She had been reaching for her coffee; her hand froze in midair as she looked at me. "I'm not married or anything and I don't usually make an awful lot of money, but I make more than enough to take care of you and the baby. So how about my moving in with you?"
"But I am already married. A woman can't be married to two men-"
"I'm not talking marriage. I'm talking about just moving in."
Her mouth dropped open and her face flushed. There was confusion at first on her face, then anger. "I'll have you know that I'm not-"
"I'm not either," I broke in. "I'll assure that I'm at least as selective about women as you are about men, but I like you-I like you very much. And let's face facts, Teresa. You're in no position to support yourself and your child, and the baby deserves some consideration at least."
She looked down at her hands again, nervously picking at her short fingernails, then sighed and shook her head. "No. I don't know you-"
"And I don't know you, but I'm willing to take a chance. I know I'm older than you are by quite a bit-"
"It's not that."
"Well, is it because I'm an anglo, then?"
"No," she said, shaking her head firmly. "No, nothing like that. It's just that ... well, this is so sudden ... I hadn't thought...."
"Look, Teresa, I'm just what you see here," I said, spreading my hands. "No more than the usual number of hangups, not much of a drinker, and not in the drug scene at all. I'm a sort of bum, I guess, because guys my age have usually settled down to a job and a family, but I usually manage to keep a job. I don't have one right now, but I have enough money to last until I do get one. And when I can't find a job, I scrounge around and come up with a few dollars."
I could see that I was beginning to convince her, but she didn't want to be convinced. There were tears of helplessness standing in her eyes as she looked down at the floor, thinking about her situation. She thought for a few moments after I stopped talking, then slowly shook her head. "I don't know, Bob. I just don't know."
"Do you have any food in the house?"
She glanced at me from the corners of her eyes and looked down at the floor again. "I have a couple of jars of baby food-nothing else."
I got up from the couch. "OK, I'll tell you what I'll do. I saw a deli down at the end of the block. I'll go and get a few groceries, and you can think about it-"
"No," she said, her voice suddenly firm. "No, just let me think about it for a-"
"Well, hell, what's the big deal about groceries? You'll need them whether I stay or not, and-"
She suddenly stood up and nodded toward the coffee on the coffee table in front of me. "Drink your coffee. I'll put the water on to heat and make you another cup while I think."
"Christ, I'm not going to get lost between here and the deli, honey-"
"You might. I know of four other women in this building alone who do not have men, and two of them are very attractive. One of them is an anglo, and she might be more attractive to you than I. If you go out you might meet one of them-" She broke off and bit her lip as she put her hands on her hips and looked down at the floor. She slowly looked back up at me. "You know, I think it is inevitable that I will either become a whore or I will have to live with a man ... you seem to be better than most men I have seen here, possibly even better than Juan was...." Her voice faded as she looked down at the floor again, then she looked up at me and nodded. "Yes, I think I will do it."
"You'll let me stay with you?"
She nodded, her face flushed. "Yes." Then a hard gleam came into her eyes. "But if you try to give me to another man, or if you mistreat me or my baby-"
"Honey, I'll be good to you and your baby," I said, standing. "And as far as giving you to another man, I'm sort of the jealous type, and I'm not a pimp. Now that that's settled, make me a list of what you want and I'll go get-"
"No, I want you to make love to me first."
It almost startled me. "What?"
"I said there were other women who do not have men, and if I am to have you, then I want to keep you. Before you go out to get the things, I want to go to bed-" Her face turned crimson, and she looked down at the floor once more. "Well," she said defensively in a quiet voice, "you might leave and see someone else...."
I walked to her and put my arms around her, pulling her to me. Her head came up to my chest, and she put her cheek against me and her hands rested tentatively on my waist as I stroked her long, black hair. "I do want you, Teresa, but it'll wait, honey."
"Not if you want to make love," she whispered. "I don't want you to leave and not come back ... need you ... might see some other woman ... scared by myself ... been awful ... men touch me as I walk down the street, then laugh if I say anything to them ... teenagers upstairs come and beat on the door, shouting dirty words at me ... know that Juan is gone...."
"Well, when the bastards come again, I'll take care of them."
"I know you will," she murmured, smiling up at me. "The way you did those in the washateria. You were wonderful, even though I didn't want you to hurt them any more. I could have hugged you."
"Well, you can now."
She giggled, sliding her arms around my waist and smiling up at me as she squeezed me. My lips were suddenly covering hers as my hands moved up and down her back, feeling her warm, firm flesh. Her lips were smooth and soft as I sucked them inside mine and felt them with the tip of my tongue. I pulled her tighter against me as I slowly slid my tongue between her teeth, and she relaxed her mouth to, let me slide it in as far as I wanted. The fresh, clean taste of her mouth filled mine as I felt the sides of her mouth with the tip of my tongue and our saliva mingled between our open lips. I felt a sudden rush of desire for her as I slid my hands further down her back, cupping her buttocks and feeling them. My cock began unfolding and stiffening into an erection as she put her hands against my back and bent her head far back, positioning herself so I could kiss her. I slid one of my hands back up her body, searching for her breasts, and she turned herself slightly so I could cup one of them. It felt firm and resilient through her blouse and bra, and my cock began getting harder as my breath began to come in quick pants and her breath fanned the side of my cheek.
Her lips and chin were damp with saliva as I took my mouth from hers and looked down at her, feeling her breast. Her eyes dropped from mine and fixed on my chest as she put her head against my chest again. She suddenly became conscious of the hard lump in the front of my trousers. "Do you want to go into the bedroom?" she whispered, pressing her body against my hardon.
J nodded, still breathing deeply. "Yes, I want-to."
She made a tentative movement toward the door on the other side of the room. I turned and led her through the door into the bedroom, my arm around her and my hand still massaging her breast. She began unbuttoning her blouse as we approached the bed, and I released her and took the shoulders of the blouse as she shrugged out of it. Her shoulders were small and soft, and her back was a smooth firm curve of delicately shaded brown skin. I leaned over and brushed my lips across her shoulders, savoring the warm scent of her hair and body in my nostrils and the feel of her satin smooth skin against my lips. She tossed her blouse onto a chair, then stopped and stood still to let me feel her as my desire surged to a peak again, making me want to touch and feel her. I cupped one of her breasts and her buttocks as I pulled her to me and buried my face in the thick masses of her hair. She leaned against me and patiently waited for me to satisfy myself as my hands pulled and squeezed her. I slid one hand down inside the waistband of her skirt, feeling for her pussy, and she unsnapped the waistband, unzipped it, then held it open for me. She trembled in my arms as my hand cupped the small bun of curly hair between her thighs, then she began breathing slowly and evenly again as she moved her feet apart to let me feel her vulva.
My desire was a raging force within me, and I began pushing at her skirt to get it down over her hips. "Let me do it, darling," she said, patting my hand. "Take your clothes off, and I'll undress for you."
I released her and jerked at the buttons on my shirt as she moved toward the bed, sliding her skirt down. A powerful wave of fiery lust raced over me as she kicked her shoes off and bent over, stepping out of her skirt. Her buttocks were a firm, smooth curve, so beautifully symmetrical that I felt an overpowering urge to mouth them, fondle them, and enjoy them in every way my imagination could conceive. She jerked the covers back and sat down on the edge of the bed, sliding her panties down over her shapely thighs, then dropped them to the floor and curled her legs as she rolled onto the bed, pulling the covers up over herself.
My shoes rolled across the floor as I kicked them off, and I tugged at my belt and the front of my trousers, unfastening them. They opened, and I pushed my trousers and shorts down with a single shove, and slid my socks off as I lifted my feet out of my trousers and shorts. My cock was standing straight out in front of me in a taut, hard erection as I walked toward the bed.
She looked up at me and smiled shyly as I walked toward the bed, then her eyes moved down to my cock and the smile faded from her face as her mouth opened slightly. Her eyes remained riveted on my cock as I pulled the covers back and looked down at her, then her eyes moved back up to mine. "It's so large," she murmured. "Be careful and don't hurt me, darling, please be gentle with me.
"I'd do anything before I'd hurt you," I breathed hoarsely, bending over and opening my mouth wide. I traced the tip of my tongue around her nipple as I took one of her breasts into my mouth, sliding onto the bed beside her. She put her small arms around my head and began stroking my hair as I pulled her to me. My hands moved over her, touching and caressing her back, her buttocks, and her thighs, then I cupped her other breast in my hand and felt it as I combed the fingers of my other hand through the small nest of hair between her thighs. She spread her thighs apart for me, and I took her soft vulva between my fingers and gently massaged it. A long, deep sigh came from her throat as she spread her thighs wider, and I dragged my fingertip through the crack in her vulva. She moaned softly as I stroked her clitoris with the tip of my finger.
"Darling, you don't have to ... I mean, it doesn't make any difference to me if I ... that is, I just want to make you feel good. You don't have to do anything for me."
I trailed my lips up her soft throat over her chin, then kissed her full, soft lips lightly. "I want you to like it, honey. I'll like it better if you do."
"All right, but just don't bother about me ... I want you to enjoy it, and it'll make me happy as long as you do."
I slid my lips back down her body, then buried my face in her soft, flat stomach as I cupped her pussy with one hand and one of her breasts with the other. I fondled her pussy and breast as I searched for her navel with my tongue, then her body stiffened all over when I found it. I probed my tongue into the tiny opening, and her body shook convulsively. "Bob, take me now, darling. I want you to take me now. Please, darling, do it now."
She spread her legs apart and rolled onto her back as I pushed myself up to my hands and knees, moving on top of her. Desire was a fiery, raging force within me which made my breath come in short, deep pants, and I was filled by a hungry need to jam my throbbing cock deep into her lush, warm body with a single powerful thrust. I controlled myself, touching and caressing her naked body as I got between her legs on my knees, with the tip of my cock touching her soft vulva. She put her legs across my thighs and wriggled closer to me until my cock was pressing firmly against her vulva, and I opened it with my fingers as I guided my cock between the lips of her pussy. She lay quietly, looking up at me as I positioned myself to fuck her, then her face twisted and she sighed deeply as I hunched forward, slipping the head of my cock into her pussy.
Every muscle in my body tightened convulsively from the sensation of the head of my cock sliding into her hot, tight pussy. I paused momentarily, letting her get accustomed to the feel of it as I gently kneaded her vulva to moisten it, then I began rocking my hips back and forth fractionally, easing more of my cock into her. "God, that feels good, honey," I groaned. "Your pussy is so hot and tight."
"Put more of it in," she whispered, her voice shaking as I thrust in and out of her. "You can put it in faster, darling-it's not hurting me at all."
I slowly stroked the tip of my finger across her clitoris in rhythm to the thrusting of my cock, pushing harder. "Is that good, honey?"
She uttered a small, wordless whimper, nodding tightly, and her hips began thrusting up at me as her clitoris tightened and stiffened, becoming a small, hard nub. She spread her legs wider, lifting her thighs from mine and holding her feet up in the air, and her fingers dug into the bed as her eyes closed tightly and her mouth sagged open. I looked down at the beautiful woman lying on the bed in front of me, her arms and legs wide apart as she held herself open for me, then I looked down at my cock sliding in and out of her warm body. Over half of it was entering her, gliding smoothly in with a hot, tight pressure around it which made ecstatic sensations roll over me in waves. She suddenly opened her eyes and looked up at me as she held her arms up toward me. "Lie on me, darling," she whimpered. "Smother me with your body while you do it-I want to feel your body on top of mine, pressing me down and crushing me."
I lay forward on her, cupping her buttocks and continuing the rhythm of my cock sliding in and out of her as her arms clenched around my neck, and her hips responded with a firm, steady rhythm to the probing of my cock as her small feet pressed against the back of my thighs. "Is it feeling good for you, honey?"
"So very good," she sighed in a trembling voice. "It's so long and hard, so big ... never felt so good before ... didn't mean to ... just wanted you to be satisfied so you'd stay ... but it's good, so very good ... warm all over ... put it all in ... now ... all of it now...."
I cupped her buttocks firmly and squeezed them as I thrust harder, pressing more of my cock into her. Within four strokes, I was completely impaling her body on my throbbing cock, spearing it deeply into her body as I withdrew it until only the head remained in her then pressed forward until the hair around the base of my cock was mashed against the bun of hair between her thighs and my balls were touching her vulva.
She gave a small, gagging cry as all of my cock slid into her, and her arms tightened around my neck with a vise-like pressure as waves of motion began rolling through her body from her small shoulders to her hips, whipping her pussy up at me. "Faster," she wailed, her fingernails digging into my neck, "do it faster and faster. "Aaaaagggggghh-hhhhh," she cried as I gripped her buttocks and began fucking her as rapidly as I could. "That's it ... that's what I ... that's ... aaaahhhhh, it's beautiful ... good, so very good ... big and hard in me ... deep in me ... it's good ... I'm going to ... I'm about to ... I'm going to ... I'M GOING TO COME! I'M COMING! I'M COMING NOW! NOW! OH, GOD! AAAAAGGGGG-HHHHH!"
Her small body undulated in wild, convulsive throes, her head tossing from side to side as she moaned and cried, with her fingernails raking my back, and I gripped her thrashing body firmly as I kept thrusting my cock deep into her, driving her on through the orgasm. The convulsions wracked her as she soared to the peak of sensations, then she stiffened all over and a tense, hard, trembling seized her, holding her motionless except for the climactic quivering which gripped her. She expelled her breath with a long, snaking wail and went completely limp.
I slid my cock in and out of her a couple more times, then relaxed on top of her with my cock still buried deep in her warm body as I held her. Her breath came in deep, ragged pants and her heart raced madly, pounding against me. She coughed weakly a couple of times as she drew the back of her hand across her forehead, then she turned her face toward mine, looking into my eyes from the distance of a few inches. "I don't know ... that never ... it's never happened to me like that before...." Her voice died away as she coughed weakly again.
"You had a full, vaginal climax, honey."
"It felt wonderful," she sighed, "but so big and ... and ... like a cloud coming over me ... like I was coming all loose inside ... like-" she blinked and raised one hand to push my hair back from my forehead as she suddenly became conscious of my hard, throbbing cock deep in her body. "You haven't had ... you haven't come, have you?"
"Not yet."
She pulled her other hand up and held my face between her hands as she looked into my eyes. "Come for me now, darling. Please come into me. It'll make it so good for me if you do. Just come quickly for me, darling. Please."
I pushed myself back up to my knees as she whispered urgently, begging me to come, and I looked down at her as I held her calves in my hands, spreading her legs wide apart while I rocked my hips back and forth. She spread her arms out to brace her body and undulated her flat stomach in a rolling movement, responding to my cock thrusting into her. "Does it still feel good, darling? Does it feel good to you?"
"God, yes," I groaned, gripping her calves tighter and holding them far apart as I slid my cock in and out of her, looking down at her.
"Are you going to come, darling? Is it good enough to make you come now?"
"In a minute," I gasped, gripping myself to defer the climax so I could continue to savor the sensation of fucking her.
I held on for long moments, grinding my teeth together to hold the semen back, but it ballooned and swelled within me until it felt as though I were going to burst apart. It was a hard, massive knot within me, aching and straining to break loose in blessed relief. I was being stimulated beyond endurance by the sight of the beautiful woman on the bed in front of me, the sensation of my cock sliding in and out of her hot, tight pussy, and the sound of her small, quivering voice begging me to come. I grimly persevered, keeping a tenuous grip on my control as I fought the overwhelming impulse to let the come break loose each time I thrust into her. Then she began twisting her hips from side to side, her small body writhing on the bed as she wriggled sensuously, making it better for me, and the additional stimulation was too much for my shaky control. I felt the massive swelling of semen burst loose, and I fell forward on her with a hoarse cry and gripped her tightly as it raced out through my cock. She uttered a small, glad cry and began undulating harder against me as she felt it coming. It erupted in hot, thick gushes, and I was enveloped by an ecstatic, numbing cloud of enjoyment as I soared up to the peak of sensation. I continued thrusting into her, driving each spurt of semen deep into her body with my throbbing cock, and she clung to me as she whispered incoherent, broken phrases of gratification. The peak of sensation passed, and my movements became more languid as my strength and semen drained into her.
She continued to lunge her hips at me and twist them from side to side as she sucked the last drop of come from my cock with her pussy, then when I lay numbly on top of her, absolutely drained, she stroked and patted my head with her small hand as she kissed my ear and the side of my face with quick, light pecks.
CHAPTER THREE
The manager of the delicatessen was a miserable, sour-faced cocksucker, but his attitude improved when he saw how much I was buying. He was a fat, balding man with a dirty white apron and a dingy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and brown sweat stains under the arms. Each person who came into the place seemed to be a potential shoplifter to him, and considering where his store was located he was probably right more than half of the time. He growled at an old, dried up looking woman who was squeezing the tomatoes too hard as he eyed me narrowly, then I came back down the aisle and he saw the basket I was carrying.
"You can put that here while you do the rest of your shopping, sir," he said, clearing a space on the counter by the cash register.
I nodded, and he reached for the basket as I lifted it toward the counter. I picked up another basket and walked toward the other side of the store. Teresa had written a small list for me, but I guessed that she had kept it small and had left off things that we might need. The list was mostly staples, so I picked out soups, canned meat, eggs, milk, and other staples. There was a prepared food case at the back of the store, and I felt my mouth water as I looked it over; it had been several hours since I had eaten.
When I returned to the cash register with the second basket, the old woman was paying for a tomato, a potato, and a wilted head of lettuce with a handful of change. The man counted the pennies and nickels, checking them, then dropped the coins in the register, bagged the items, and the old woman left. He almost looked pleasant as he pulled the first basket to one side to make room for the second. "Think this'll be all you'll need?"
"The things in the case in the rear-when were they cooked?"
"They're fresh," he said emphatically. "My wife fixes them every morning, and we eat them ourselves if we don't sell them that day."
"Let me have one of the chickens, then, and a pound of potato salad and some of the cole slaw."
"I've got two chickens," he said, walking around the counter toward the rear of the store. "The large one is enough to feed a good sized family with some left over for lunch, and you can have it for a dollar ninety eight-"
"I don't have a good sized family-I'll take the little one."
"Dollar nineteen," he nodded. "One box of slaw or two?"
"One'll do."
He got the things out of the case and came back to the cash register, then began totalling them up on a pad rather than adding them on the register; apparently he was getting over on his income tax. "Just moving into the area?" he asked, taking the articles out of the baskets and jotting prices on the pad.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'll make you good prices on your groceries if you'll come here all the time. I like to have customers who can spend a few dollars-most of the people around here are either bums, welfare cases, or living on old age pensions."
"Doesn't look as though there's much money here."
He finished writing down the prices and drew a line under the column as he shook his head. "There's not. Most of them come in here and try to trade their shit for groceries-I tell them that this is not a hock shop, but they keep on coming back." He rapidly totalled the figures with the pencil, then looked up at me again as he motioned toward a small TV on the shelf behind him. "Like that. A guy came in here yesterday and talked me into taking it for-say, you don't need a TV, do you? I'll make you a good deal on it."
"How good?"
He shoved out his lower lip and looked at the TV speculatively, then looked back at me. "Fifteen dollars."
I shook my head. "Too much, and it's probably hot, anyway."
"No, the old bastard who brought it in wouldn't be able to steal a piece of candy from a baby." He looked down at the list. "I'll tell you what I'll do, though. Your things come to eighteen dollars and twelve cents, so I'll let you have the groceries and the TV for a total of thirty dollars just to get rid of it-"
"Twenty-five, and I'll take it if it works."
He shook his head with a pained expression. "That would be giving you the TV for less than seven dollars and it's worth more than that. It works good, too, because I tried it-"
"Seven dollars is probably about right for it, because you wouldn't have given more than five dollars worth of groceries for it."
"But it's worth more than that. I'll tell you what, call it twenty seven fifty."
"OK," I said, taking my roll of money out of my pocket.
I was loaded down with the bags and the TV as I left the store, and the manager held the door open for me, saying good night. He looked too happy, so I figured that he had fucked me by a dollar or two. I walked close to the building to keep out of as much of the rain as possible so the bags wouldn't start coming apart on me, and I stood in the shelter of a doorway at the corner to wait for the lights to change so I could cross the street.
Teresa opened the door a crack, then took the chain loose and opened the door wide, smiling up at me. "Why did you get so much-a TV! Where did you get the TV?"
"The guy at the deli had taken it in trade for some things and I bought it from him," I said, walking toward the kitchen table.
She locked the door, then trotted toward me to help me with the bags as I set them down on the kitchen table. "There's things here I didn't have on the list"
"I picked up a few extra things in case we needed them. Let's get this TV plugged in and see if it's going to work. If it don't, I'm going to take it back over there and shove it up his ass."
She giggled as she picked up one of the bags and carried it to the kitchen cabinet, watching me over her shoulder as I pulled the table away from the wall and plugged in the set. I flipped the switch on and pulled the antenna rods up, then stood back and looked at it. There was a mutter of sound from the speaker, then the picture brightened with a crackling sound; it was clear and sharp. "Say, that's a nice one-look how good the picture is," she said, walking back to the table. She leaned over the table and turned the channel selector, knob. "And it gets all the channels nice and clear, too."
I looked down at her as she leaned over the table. She had put on a clean dress, and it was a cotton print which fit her nicely. It hugged her neatly rounded buttocks and the skirt was fairly short, showing half of her firmly curved thighs. I moved closer to her and put my hand on her buttocks, feeling them. "You look nice, too."
She straightened up and turned toward me, sliding her arms around my waist and pressing herself to me. "I took a bath while you were gone. Do you want some more now?"
"After supper," I murmured, holding her close and burrowing my face in her hair.
Her small hand moved around to my stomach, then slid downward and stroked my cock through the front of my trousers. "Good-I'll feel more like doing it, then. I'm hungry."
"If you keep on doing that, you won't get a chance to wait until after supper. In fact, you might not even get as far as the bedroom before I have it in you."
She tossed her head back and her large, brown eyes flashed as she laughed, moving away from me. "I'd better leave you alone, then. What would you like to have for supper? I put ground meat and potatoes on the list, and I could fix-"
"I bought a cooked chicken, some potato salad. and some cole slaw. Let's have that-all you have to do is heat up the chicken in the oven."
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Cooked food costs too much, and I can cook."
I took my coat off and walked over to the couch, dropping it across the arm of the couch and sitting down. "I got it to save the trouble of cooking tonight. We can afford it."
She nodded and smiled at me as she began taking the things from the bags. "I appreciate your thinking of me, but I will do the shopping from now on."
I relaxed on the couch, watching her as she moved back and forth in the kitchenette, putting the things away and preparing supper. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a figure which would incite the passion of any man, and a small, attractive face to match her body. Her eyes were large and expressive, with long, curly lashes, her nose was small and pert, and her lips full and wide. The delicately shaded olive of her skin was perfectly clear, without a single blemish, and her long, shining black hair was so thick and heavy that it fell forward around the sides of her face, framing it. She walked back and forth with a lithe, unaffected gracefulness, occasionally pushing at her hair and tossing it back over her shoulders, and I felt a warm flood of desire mounting in me again as I sat and looked at her. Combined with the desire was a comfortable, satisfying feeling of domesticity and the knowledge that I could have her any time I wanted.
We sat at the kitchen table and ate, watching the TV and chatting casually. After we had finished, she made me another cup of coffee and I sat on the couch and sipped it, watching her as she cleaned up, put away the leftovers, and washed the dishes.
She occasionally smiled at me when her glance met mine, and the warm glow in her dark, flashing eyes promised satiation when we went to bed. My cock stirred as I looked at her and thought about it, unfolding and stretching into a tentative hardon.
A thunderous crash suddenly echoed through the apartment as someone kicked the door, rattling it on its hinges. I jumped, startled, and she dropped a dish in the sink, breaking it. "Come on out and let's fuck, Teresa," a voice came from the hall as someone else laughed raucously. There was another kick on the door. "Come on out and you can suck one of us while the other one dog fucks you."
"It is the teenagers from upstairs," she said quietly, her face tense and pale, and her hands and lips trembling.
I got up from the couch, white hot anger building up within me until it was a seething, searing fire which felt as though it were consuming me. She moved quickly across the room toward me as I walked toward the door. "Be careful, Bob-they can be dangerous," she said, putting her hand on my arm.
"Come on out before we come in there and fuck your baby in the mouth, Teresa. Come on out and make it good for us, and we'll leave you alone. You can tongue us in the asshole and lick our balls for us-" The voice was drowned by the other one shrieking with coarse laughter and another thunderous kick on the door.
Her hand tightened on my arm. "They'll keep it up for a while, then they'll go away, Bob. It happens all the time, but that's all they do. Perhaps it would be better to leave them alone and ignore them until they leave-"
"In a pig's ass it would," I growled, snatching my arm away from her hand and walking toward the door.
It took them completely by surprise. They were kicking and shouting at a door where they thought there was a lone woman inside, and in the next instant I was coming through the door at them. They were brothers, seventeen or eighteen, with pimples and mangy beards, and were dressed in the latest fad, with massive soles and heels on their shoes and garishly checked coats and pants. I kept a rein on the wild fury of my anger, and instead of hitting them I smacked both of them with the back of my hands in a one, two rhythm. The first one went flat on his back, blood bursting from his nose and lips as he shrieked with pain, and the other one made a break for the stairs leading downward. I caught him by the back of his collar and jerked him back. He stumbled backward, then began falling as the back of my hand slashed him across his face. I pivoted, bringing the other hand around, and caught him from the other side with it as he was falling. The first one started to stumble to his feet, then was slammed back to the floor again as I stepped forward and smacked him once more.
Teresa was looking at me through the open doorway, pale and trembling, and I could hear the baby crying in the bedroom. "Where do they live?"
"On the fifth floor. Apartment C."
I leaned over and seized both of them by the backs of their collars and dragged them to their feet. "Close the door and take care of the baby-I'll be back in a minute."
One of them began blubbering as I dragged them to the stairs, pawing and fumbling at his bleeding nose and broken lips as he wept, and the other one-the older one-started to mutter a threat until I stopped and slammed him against the wal! a couple of times. There was an old man coming down the stairs as I dragged them up, and he stumbled back up to the landing and looked at us with his mouth open and his eyes wide and staring as we passed. He was flat against the wall of the landing, his old, wrinkled face looking white and pasty in the glare of the bare bulb hanging from the landing ceiling, and he remained against the wall without moving until we had disappeared on the next landing.
I dragged them to the door of apartment C and kicked on it, then waited, still holding them. A moment passed, and I kicked the door again, harder. An angry voice sounded inside the apartment, then the door was jerked open. It was a middle-aged man, bald and fat, barefoot, and with his suspenders hanging around his waist. He had taken off his shirt, and the tank top undershirt was grey and sweaty looking. "Are these your kids?"
"Yeah, what in hell happened? Have they been fighting, or-"
"I smacked the shit out of them for beating on my door and telling my wife to come out and fuck. If they do it again-"
"Donnie!" screamed a big, fat woman as she looked around the door and saw them. She crowded past the man, shoving him to one side, and threw her arms around the younger of the two. "Donnie, what happened to you?" she cried, jerking him away from my grasp and wrapping her arms around him. He pillowed his head on her shoulder and began blubbering again, louder, as she looked at the other one. "Howie, what happened to you and-" She broke off, looking at me with her face twisting in anger. "You turn my son loose, you son of a bitch! What did you do to them? I'll call the police and tell them what you've done!"
"Go ahead and call them, goddamnit. Call them and tell them that your two kids were standing out in the hall and shouting for my wife to come out and suck their dick. Tell the cops that your two kids were telling my wife that they were going to come in and fuck her baby in the mouth. Go ahead and call them, goddamnit."
"My sons wouldn't do that-you're lying!" she screamed in my face, and her hot fetid breath enveloped my head like a putrid cloud. She was large, much taller than her husband and built heavier, and she looked a hell of a lot meaner.
"Like hell they wouldn't!" I screamed back at her at the top of my voice. "Your fucking brats are a pair of fucking delinquents who roam around terrorizing the whole fucking block, and it won't take the cops ten minutes to find it out!"
"Well, they didn't do what you said," she said, blinking her eyes and moving back fractionally. "There's only your word and the word of that goddamned little spic who prisses around here wagging her ass-"
"You'd better keep your rotten mouth off her," I said, moving toward her. "You might think that your ass is so holy that it can't get kicked around, but I'd rather beat you than your fucking brats because it's your fault that they're a pair of hoods."
"You touch me and I'll have your ass in jail for assault You can't go around making threats...." She moved back, still clutching the younger one, and the older one stood in the middle of the hall, cautiously touching and probing at his lips and nose as he moaned softly. Doors were opening in the hall and people were peeking out as we shouted at each other and as the youngest teenager continued to weep loudly on his mother's shoulder. " ... if you do, you'll go to jail. You can't get away with things like that."
"And you can't get away with letting your kids hard-time everyone on the block. If you don't take them in hand, then they'll wind up with their ass in jail."
"It's not easy to raise kids now," the man began tentatively, and I felt my anger rising to a white hot heat again from the ineffectual, defeatist attitude his tone indicated.
"Horse shit!" I snarled at him, snatching for the eldest of the pair again. I clamped my hand firmly around the back of his neck and began squeezing, and his mouth and eyes opened wide as his knees began folding. "When the cocksucker gets out of line, you just do this," I said, grinding my teeth together as I squeezed harder. "And if he still won't do as you say, you take a fucking club and beat him until he can't walk."
"Get your filthy hands off my son!" the woman screamed, releasing the younger one and charging toward the one I was holding. He was almost on his knees, and she knocked my hand away as she took him in her arms and lifted him, tears of anger in her eyes. She knew that they had done as I said, she knew she wouldn't be able to face me down, yet she felt a mother's anguish at seeing her offspring punished. "If you ever touch one of my sons again, I'll have you put in jail so fast-"
"If they ever again do what they did tonight, I'll throw their fucking asses down the stairwell," I snarled at her. "I mean it, you old whore, so you'd better keep them away from my wife. If one of them so much as looks at her, then I'll kill his ass. And then I'll come looking for you for not keeping it from happening. Their days of terrorizing this building stopped tonight, when I got here."
She put her arms around them and led them through the door, and the man stood back to let them pass. He looked at them, then at me. "I'm sorry this happened, mister-"
"Just keep them away from my wife. If you don't do that, then you really will be sorry."
CHAPTER FOUR
The door to the apartment was closed and locked. I knocked, and there was a rustle of sound behind it. It slowly swung open, and Teresa was smiling up at me. She was barefoot, and in a dressing gown.
"I'm glad you wanted to stay with me, Bob," she said softly, holding up her arms toward me as I closed the door. "I wouldn't have been able to do anything about them tonight, and I wouldn't have ... I wouldn't ... I wouldn't be looking forward to going to bed...."
I took her in my arms and covered her mouth with mine, sliding my tongue between her teeth. The crisp, minty taste of toothpaste was in her mouth, and I could feel her naked skin under the dressing gown. I sucked her lips inside mine, caressing them with the tip of my tongue, then I traced my tongue around the edges of her teeth. She clamped her arms firmly around my neck and held her mouth wide open for me as she pressed herself against me. I took my lips from hers and raised my head, looking down at her. "You taste good. And it feels as though you're already ready for bed."
"You promised me something after we'd finished eating," she said, wrinkling her nose as she smiled up at me.
"And what would you like?"
"You, and this time we get to take our time. I've been to some of the X-rated movies, so I know what all men and women do. We'll do all of them-I want to."
"Everything they do in the X-rated movies?"
"And then some, if we can think of it."
I cupped one of her breasts firmly, kneading it and feeling it yielding under my hand, and she stretched her arms up to pull my lips down to hers again, opening her mouth wide. Our lips met, and her small tongue eagerly pressed between my lips and teeth. She stiffened her tongue, and I could feel the tip of it moving around inside my mouth as our saliva mingled on our lips. I ran my tongue under hers and explored the soft tissue under her tongue with the tip of my tongue, then our tongues entwined as our lips pulled and sucked at each other. Both of her slender arms gripped my neck firmly as we kissed, and I could feel her breathing quicken against my cheek as her heart thumped with a heavy rhythm against my hand fondling her breast.
I pulled my lips from hers and looked down at her, and she smiled languidly up at me, her long, curly eyelashes almost closed together over her large, brown eyes. Slipping one forearm under the bend of her knees and the other around her back, I picked her up. She locked her hands together behind my neck and pillowed her head on my chest as I walked toward the bedroom with her, carrying her slender form effortlessly. I pushed the bedroom door open with my foot and carried her in, then laid her gently on the bed and pulled the dressing gown open. Her dusky, sloe-eyed beauty made my breath catch in my throat as I looked down at her, and she raised herself from the bed to slip her arms out of the dressing gown. She lay for a moment, looking up at me as my eyes drank in her beauty, then she held her arms up toward me. I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over to kiss her. Our tongues probed each other as they met between our open lips, and her head moved from side to side on the pillow as she wrapped her arms firmly around my neck and pulled my lips down against hers. She opened her mouth wide for my tongue, and I put both hands on her breasts and kneaded them as I slid my tongue into her mouth. Her breasts were warm and resilient in my hands, her skin soft and her flesh firm, and my breath began to come in deep gasps as I kissed her and fondled her. I slipped my hands on down her body, feeling her slender chest, flat stomach, and firm buttocks. She slid her fingers into my hair as my hands moved over her, and she murmured deep in her throat as she writhed on the bed under my hands.
I took my lips from hers and slid my hands under her back as I bent over to kiss her breasts, one after the other, then I began running the tip of my tongue around her nipples. She moaned softly and her fingers dug into the back of my neck as her nipples stiffened, and I let them slide slowly in and out of my mouth as I sucked at them gently. I could feel her heart pounding over left breast, and her breath came in quick gasps as I mouthed her nipples. I moved my lips slowly up her chest and neck to cover her mouth with mine again, and her tongue speared between my lips as our mouths met. She kissed me with a firm, quick pressure of her lips, then she pulled her lips away from mine and pressed my face downward, toward her breasts. "Do that again, darling," she murmured softly. "Take my breasts into your mouth."
"Does it feel good, honey?"
"Anything you do feels good to me. Lick my nipples and suck my breasts, darling. Please, do it now."
I moved back and forth between her breasts, licking and sucking at her nipples, then I let more and more of her breasts slide into my mouth as I sucked them. She gasped and bowed her back, pressing her breasts up toward me as I opened my mouth wide to let as much as I could of her left breast slide into my mouth. I massaged her right breast with my palm and gently squeezed her nipple between my thumb and forefinger as I sucked hard at her left breast, and her fingers laced into my hair and pulled my head firmly downward as she pressed her breast up to me, moaning softly.
I let her breast slide from my mouth and sat up again, looking down at her as I put my hands on her breasts and squeezed them. "God, you make me feel good," she sighed. "You're the world's best lover, Bob. Take your clothes off and get on the bed with me-I'm aching for you now, darling."
A button popped from my shirt and rolled across the floor as I tugged at it. I glanced at it, then continued unbuttoning my shirt. "Pull them all off if they're slowing you down, darling, and I'll sew them back on tomorrow-only hurry. Please hurry and get on the bed with me."
Her voice made passion rise in me like a seething tide, and I jerked at my clothes, getting out of them. I finally had my trousers loose, and I pushed them and my shorts off with a single movement. My cock stood straight out in front of me in a long, hard erection as I moved toward the bed, looking at her.
Every nerve in my body screamed for me to spring on her and drive my cock deep in her body with a single lunge, and the iron control I clamped over myself made my body tremble as I sat down on the side of the bed again and took her in my arms. Our lips met, and her teeth nibbled at me as her tongue damply touched my lips. Our mouths opened wide, sucking and pulling at each other, and our lips and chins were damp with each other's saliva as I moved my lips down her chin and throat to her breasts. Her heart pounded madly and her breath came in quick gasps as I sucked her breasts into my mouth, flicking the tip of my tongue around her nipples, and her hands moved over my head with urgent touches. She stiffened and moaned deep in her throat as my lips moved on down her slender body and my tongue moved back and forth across her chest and flat stomach. Her fingernails bit into the back of my head as I traced the tip of my tongue around her navel, then I softly pressed my tongue into the small, round opening. Her stomach tensed and she pressed her body up toward my face as I wriggled my tongue in her navel, and her legs slid apart as my hand moved down over her vulva. "Oh, God, Bob," she whimpered, "You're driving me crazy, darling. Get on me and put it in ... please get on me and fuck me, darling...."
"Not yet," I breathed against her satiny skin, moving my lips further down.
She trembled and writhed as my tongue and lips moved on down her flat stomach, and I could feel the muscles in her thighs moving as my lips reached the small bun of hair. "Ooohhhhhh, darling," she moaned, sitting up and spreading her legs apart. "Will you...? are you going to...? are you ...?" I stuck my tongue far out and dragged it across her vulva, and she threw her legs wide open and fell back on the bed, her arms wide apart. "....that's it, darling ... oh, God, that's it ... that's so good ... so very good...."
She continued whispering small, incoherent snatches of phrases as I stiffened my tongue and dragged it across her vulva again, then I moved up and down the insides of her thighs, kissing and nibbling her smooth skin. She lunged upward and thrust her hips up off the bed each time I moved back up toward her small pussy, and her low, steady whimper was a wordless plea for me to release the pressure I had built up in her with my tongue and lips.
Her knees were flexed and her legs were wide apart, holding her small pussy up to me. I got onto the bed and lay between her legs, with my head over her pussy, and I pulled her legs over my shoulders as I opened my mouth wide and sucked her pussy into it. She gave a muffled shriek and I could hear her fingernails digging at the bedspread as I sucked her pussy and let the tip of my tongue move back and forth along her vulva. Her entire body was trembling uncontrollably as I took her firm thighs in my hands and gripped while I searched for her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. I found it, and it swelled into a tiny knot as I caressed it with my tongue. I slipped my hands under her buttocks and raised her slightly as I dipped my head lower to search for her anus with my tongue. She gave another strangled cry and threw her feet up in the air, curving her back and holding herself wide open for my caresses. I slid my tongue between her firm buttocks and worked it back and forth, pushing the tip of it into her tight anus, and I could feel every muscle in her body shaking, making the bed quiver. I slowly lowered her back down on the bed as I trailed my tongue from her anus to her vulva, then I let the tip of my tongue part her vulva as I searched for her clitoris again. I moved my tongue back and forth between her anus and her clitoris, gripping her buttocks firmly to hold her as she thrashed back and forth.
Her whimpering was a long, steady cry when I began to concentrate on her clitoris. I moved the tip of my tongue back and forth across it as I probed her tight anus with my finger. I worked the tip of my finger into her tiny asshole, then I began fucking her with my finger in rhythm with my tongue flicking across her clitoris. Her hips responded, pressing her pussy up toward me, and I gradually accelerated the pace. Wild cries began to come from deep in her throat each time she thrust upward, and her body began to gyrate wildly. Rippling waves spread through her body in movements which began at her shoulders and ran down through her hips, whipping her pussy up at me. Then she burst into an orgasm. She clenched her legs around my head with a vise-like pressure as her stomach rolled in quick jerks. The orgasm bore her higher and higher, and her body became absolutely motionless for an instant as she bowed up from the bed. She went over the peak in a flurry of motion, whipping her pussy up at my face again, and she collapsed with a low, throaty cry. Her limbs were loose and flaccid as I licked her small pussy with long strokes of my tongue. She began whimpering, protesting, and I crawled up the bed to take her in my arms.
Her heart was pounding madly and her breath was coming in gasps as I pulled her to me. "I've never felt anything like that before," she panted, laying her face against mine on the pillow. "I thought it was good the first time with you, darling, but it was nothing like that-I didn't know anyone could make me feel so good."
"It'll be good with us all the time, honey," I said, feeling one of her breasts and holding her close. "We're naturals together-we just can't miss."
"Do you want me to do the same thing? I'll try, but it's so big...."
I silently shook my head, pushing myself up and moving over to get on top of her.
"Do you want to fuck me, then?"
I nodded. "That's what I want-I want to get my cock in your pussy."
I got on my knees between her legs, and she put her feet on my thighs and spread her pussy wide for me as I guided my cock into her. Her pussy was damp from my tongue and her climax, and the head of my cock glided smoothly in as I pressed on it. The sensation of my cock entering her made a thrill of sensation race through me, knotting every muscle in my body, and she uttered a long, deep sigh of pleasure. "Ohhhhhhhhh, that feels good, darling-it feels so good. Push all of it in, Bob, I'm ready for all of it now. Push it in and fuck me as hard as you can."
I took her thighs in my hands and held them wide apart as I lurched forward with my hips. "All right, baby, here it comes," I grated in a hoarse, strained voice.
"Aaaaaaaggghhhhh," she cried as my throbbing cock speared all the way into her and my balls pressed against her small, firm ass. "God, it went all the way up to my throat," she whispered, her eyes closed tightly. "Pull it out and do it again, darling-make me feel like that again."
I pulled my cock back out until only the head of it remained in her, then I rammed it into her again with a single hard thrust, driving it home in her pussy. She moaned in ecstasy, tossing her head from side to side, and I began fucking her as hard as I could, with long, swift strokes of my trembling cock. She moaned and whimpered each time it sank into her avid body, and I could feel a climax quickly approaching from the sensation of my cock sliding into her and from the sight of her writhing on the bed in front of me. I stopped fucking her and leaned forward to feel her breasts, my cock buried in her pussy. She put her hands on mine and opened her eyes, smiling up at me. "Bob, darling, you're a wonderful lover, you really are."
I breathed deeply, trying to catch my breath as I felt her breasts. "I'm about to be a rabbit lover. If I'd kept that up for a minute longer, I'd have come."
She moved her hands slowly up and down my forearms, stroking them. "If that's what you want to do, I don't mind, darling. Go ahead and come any time you want to."
"I don't want to yet, but I was about to. You're too good-you make me come too quickly."
She giggled. "Complaining?"
I shook my head, leaning further over to kiss her lightly on the lips. "No, not complaining. Let's try it dog style."
"How's that?"
"Get on your hands and knees, and I'll put my cock in your pussy from behind you."
She nodded, and I pulled my cock out of her pussy and moved to one side as she rolled over and pushed herself up to her hands and knees. The sight of her beautiful body on the bed, crouched and waiting for me to fuck her, made passion and desire swell within me until it was a choking, smothering force which made my head swim. I positioned myself behind her, my knees lowered so my cock was on a level with her pussy, and I fumbled with my cock in my haste to get it into her. She braced herself on one arm and reached back between her legs to grasp my cock and help guide it in. It touched the lips of her pussy, and I slammed myself forward, driving it deep into her body.
She uttered a low, moaning whimper as it slid into her pussy, and she let her back sag as she lowered her head and shoulders to the pillow, keeping her firm, shapely buttocks high in the air. I gripped her tiny waist and began dog fucking her, withdrawing my cock and slamming it back into her frantically. I was seized by a ravening passion I couldn't control, an overwhelming need which bore me inexorably toward an orgasm. "I've got to come, honey," I choked, hunching into her madly as I gripped her small, firm body and dug my fingers into her tender flesh. "Go ahead and come, darling," she whimpered. "I want you to come in me now-I'm waiting for it, darling. Go ahead and let it out into my pussy ... want it ... waiting...."
I let out a hoarse grunt as the massive knot of semen burst loose and began streaming out through my cock. My fingers dug deep in her small waist as I gripped her and lifted her knees all the way off the bed, my entire body undulating as I drove my cock into her and let the come spurt out into her. A small, glad whimper came from her as she felt it gushing out into her, bathing her insides, and a hard, continuous shudder gripped me as the final dregs of come were torn from me. I fell onto my side, dragging her with me, and she pressed herself against me, wriggling her hips from side to side and wringing the last drop of come from me with her pussy. My strength suddenly left me and I collapsed limply, hoarsely panting for breath. She turned and crept into my arms, making small, sub-vocal sounds of satisfaction as she pulled the covers up over us. Sleep descended over me like a warm, dark cloud.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day was cold and raw, with the gusty wind driving stinging sheets of half-frozen rain in off Lake Michigan. I was up before dawn and on my way to the docks, because I knew the weather would keep half the longshoremen and all of the day laborers off the job. I was right, and the shippers were paying premium wages for anyone they could find. I worked at Calumet Docks from dawn until noon, then worked on through lunch until three o'clock when my jobber offered me a bonus to get his truck out before dark. He left happy and I left tired, but sixty dollars better off than when f had arrived that morning.
Teresa's face broke into a broad smile when she saw me in the hall, and she jerked the chain off the door and jumped into my arms. I'd been looking forward to a hot meal and some pussy, but when I wriggled my hand into her blouse, she pulled away from me with a smile and a warning nod toward the living room. There was an old woman sitting on the couch. She was so old her hair had turned a spotless white, and I could see glimpses of her pink scalp through it. She looked almost shriveled with age, and she Was watching us in the doorway with bright, beady eyes which almost sparkled in her wrinkled, prune-like face.
"Bob, this is Mrs. Hollister, from upstairs. She came down to see you, because she wanted to thank you for-"
"I can talk for myself, honey," the old woman chirped in a thin, cracked voice. Her eyes fastened on my face as Teresa closed the door and put the chain back into place. "I want to thank you for doing something about those Brody boys. They've had the run of the place here since they've been big enough to cause trouble, and no one has ever had the guts to do anything about it. My husband would have, but he's been dead these twenty-six years next April, and there's not many men like him left."
I nodded, walking across to the easy chair as I slipped out of my coat. "Well, I'm glad you're glad, Ma'am, but I did it for myself. They were hard-timing my wife and got me mad, and that's why-"
"You don't have to call her your wife for my benefit. I know you're not married, and you might as well tell the truth about it."
I felt a sudden flash of irritation. "Well, I don't see as how it's any of your business either way."
She nodded blandly. "It's not until you lie to me about it. Anyway I didn't come down here to argue with you-I came down here to thank you for what you did and to see if you're going to be around to keep them in hand. Are you going to live here now?"
"Yes ma'am, for awhile, I guess we'll-"
"Yes ma'am, yes ma'am," she mimicked, cackling. "You sound just like my husband used to sound. Where are you from?"
"Georgia, originally, but I've-"
"I knew it! I knew it!" she shrieked in her thin voice, slapping her thigh and cackling even louder. "That's where my husband was from, and he was a real man. He'd nail me so hard I wouldn't have enough strength to lift my hand, and he'd still be so horny he'd have to beat off a time or two before he could go to sleep." She uttered another shriek of high-pitched laughter, slapping her thigh again. "And then he'd have a wet dream after he went to sleep."
I exploded with laughter at the old woman's exaggerated claims of her long-dead husband's prowess, immediately taking a liking to her. "He must have been some stud."
She nodded vigorously, her tiny, wrinkled face stretched in a broad smile. "He was that, my boy. He could ball all night and wake up with a hardon. That's why I never got married again. If you've been weaned on filet mignon, you can't get used to cat fish sandwiches."
"I'll heat up your supper," Teresa said, chuckling and smiling as she walked toward the kitchenette.
"I'll bet if I weren't here you'd have some of her before you had your supper," the old woman said, nodding toward Teresa. "Maybe before your supper and after, too, because she's a pretty thing." My eyes met Teresa's and she shook her head slightly, smiling tolerantly. "If she'd lived here when my husband was alive, we might have had trouble," the old woman chattered on, "because he always had an eye for a pretty thing like her." Her smile suddenly faded and she looked down at the floor. "But that's been a long time ago, hasn't it?" she finished in a quiet, almost inaudible voice.
"How long have you lived here?"
"Almost fifty years," she said, looking back up at me. "This was a nice place back then, but it's gone to the dogs now. Most of the people who live here are trash."
"What do you do?"
"Do?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "There's not much a woman my age can do. I have my husband's pension from the Spanish-American War, and I have my old age pension, but after I pay my rent and buy a few groceries I don't have enough to do anything. I spend a lot of time with the Harris children-his wife left him a few months ago, and I can see why. He's a strange man, and he should be seeing a doctor. He doesn't work regularly, and he mistreats his children. He drinks a lot, too. I told him I'd call a welfare worker if he didn't treat his children better, and he told me he'd throw me down the stairs if I didn't mind my own business." She suddenly broke into another shrill peal of laughter. "He called me an old whore, and I thanked him for the compliment. It's been over twenty five years since anyone thought I was young enough to be a whore."
I burst into laughter again, and Teresa laughed as she began taking dishes from the cabinet. The old woman looked at her, then got to her feet. She was smaller than I had first thought, because the long, old fashioned clothes made her appear heavier than her ninety pounds or so. "Well, I'll get back up to my place and leave you to your supper. Thanks again for what you did."
I nodded to her. "All right, Granny, come back and see me any time."
"Listen to him-Granny he calls me," she said to Teresa as she walked toward the door. "Fifty years ago he'd have called me something else, I'll tell you."
Teresa chuckled merrily, walking with the old woman to the door, then she said good night to her and closed the door behind her. She locked the door and walked back toward the stove, still chuckling. "She's a nice old lady."
"She's lively as hell for her age. I'll bet she was a handful when she was twenty-five or so, and I'll bet her husband was pussy whipped all the time."
Teresa turned from the stove and looked at me, smiling. "If you're hinting that you need an appetizer before supper, I'm willing any time you're able."
I stood up, yawning and stretching. "Well, maybe I'll just .go and get a shave-"
She shook her head, turning the gas jets off. "You don't have to shave for us to make love, Bob. All you have to do is tell me-" She broke off as a knock came at the door.
"Now who in the fuck is it?" I growled, looking at the door.
She patted my arm as she passed me, walking toward the door. "Sit down, darling. I'll see if I can get rid of them, and we'll go to bed. Then I'll fix your supper and we'll watch TV while you eat, and if that revives you again we'll go back to bed. Sit down."
She took the chain off the door and opened it. "Oh, hello, Mr. Baker," she said. "What do you need?"
"I want to talk to the man who's living here," a man's voice said.
"It's the manager," Teresa said, looking over her shoulder at me as she opened the door wider.
I bristled, expecting trouble with him, either because of what had happened the night before or because I had moved in with Teresa. He walked in, nodding casually to me, and I relaxed somewhat. He was a thin, middle-aged man with a weak chin and a self-effacing expression on his face; a man who couldn't make very much trouble for anyone. "What can I do for you?" I asked him.
"Well, I heard the ruckus upstairs last night, when you were having the argument with the Brodys and-"
"They asked for it. Those kids were kicking the door and calling to my wife, so they had a lot more coming than what they got."
He waved his hands, shaking his head. "I'm not arguing the point. In fact, I couldn't agree more. They've been a nuisance and a constant source of trouble for everyone in the building. Up until last night, they were, that is. Today they've been as quiet and polite as anyone could ask."
"Well, what's the big deal, then?"
"There's no big deal, really-" He broke off, nodding toward the couch. "May I sit down?"
"Sit down, sit down," I said, nodding, and Teresa walked back toward the kitchenette, looking at us.
He sat down on the couch with a sigh and crossed his legs. "To come right to the point, Mr-"
"Bob Fowler."...." Mr. Fowler, I wonder if you'd be interested in being the assistant manager for the building."
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, thinking. "No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not going to be up in the middle of the night trying to fix a radiator for someone or listening to some woman bitch because her faucet leaks and keeps her awake at night-"
"Nothing like that," he interrupted, shaking his head. "There'd be no maintenance work involved. It would just be keeping order and settling disputes in the building. Sort of a master at arms, as it were."
"Sounds more like a bouncer to me," I said, shaking my head again. "No, I don't want to wind up involved in a series of pissing contests every night when I come home, either."
"I really don't think it would amount to that. We don't have any really troublesome people here in the building. The Brodys are the worst, I'd say, and after what you did last night I don't think you'd have very much trouble with anyone here."
"Well, from the way it sounds, I'd say that my wages might end up as five or six inches of steel in my back." I shook my head again. "No, I believe I'll pass."
"If it appears as though there's going to be serious trouble, we'd let the police handle it. I very rarely call them, because I want to be sure they'll respond when I do need them. The minor altercations is all I had in mind for you to take care of. Besides, when you hear the entire proposition I'm prepared to offer, it might be somewhat more attractive to you."
"Offer it, then."
"Well, we had a small fire last year and a couple of the first floor apartments were gutted. There wasn't enough money to restore them to their original layout, so we repaired it as best we could. Briefly, they were more or less fixed up as a single apartment, and you could use it free of charge. There's a nice large living room, a large kitchen, two baths, four bedrooms, and a utility room-"
"Jesus Christ, what do I need all that room for? There's me and my wife, and her baby."
"Well, the furniture is nice and it's just been painted, and if you don't want to use some of the rooms you can simply close the doors. That's twelve fifty a week in cash money, when you consider that you wouldn't be paying rent on this apartment. The apartment on the first floor would rent for more than twelve fifty a week, of course, but I'm speaking of cash savings over your present situation."
I started to shake my head again, then glanced at Teresa. Her eyes were shining with contained excitement as she looked at me. It was her womanly instinct, the desire for a better and larger cave. I took in a deep breath and let it back oufcin a long sigh. "Look, that isn't much money, and i have to work every day, and-"
He nodded quickly. "I understand that, and even if you take your ... ah, wife to the movies or something at night, it wouldn't interfere with what I have in mind. I only want the people in the building to have someone who can handle their complaints and their problems with each other. It will be mainly during the evenings and on the weekends when they'll want to see you. If you're not in when they come, they can simply come back when you are in."
Teresa was almost bursting, looking hopefully at me as she clenched her hands together in front of her. I thought for a moment longer, scratching my head, then shrugged. "OK, let's take a look at the apartment, then."
The paint job wasn't too professional and there were still signs of the previous fire, but it was a massive step upward from the other apartment. The furniture was in much better condition, the refrigerator was new, and the stove was in better condition. All the rooms were furnished, including all four of the bedrooms, and there was a console TV in the living room. I didn't have to ask Teresa what she thought about it, because her eyes became larger and her expression more wistful as she went from room to room, looking. I went back into the living room, where Baker was waiting for us. "OK, I'll do it, but when I settle problems, I'll do it my own way."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "As long as you don't kill anyone. And, depending on who you kill, I really don't care about that as long as you get rid of the body. I talked to the owners about it this afternoon, and they said it would be all right with them. It'll certainly be worth it to me."
"You sound so glad about it that I'm beginning to have second thoughts."
"I just don't like to settle trouble between people. You look like the sort of man who could do it without thinking about it."
"I can do it as long as I'm able to do it my way."
"Any way you do it is all right with me, as I said," he shrugged, handing me a pair of keys. "There's the key to this apartment. Let me have the keys to the other one tomorrow or whenever you finish moving."
He went back out the door and closed it quietly behind him, and Teresa raced toward me, holding out her arms. "It's beautiful, Bob," she cried, throwing her arms around my neck and pressing herself to me. "We can bring our things down here and fix it up so nice-"
"Hey, you're forgetting a couple of things. First, we're going to do what we were talking about doing when Baker knocked on the door, then we're going to eat supper. After all that's been taken care of, then we can see about moving down here."
She giggled, nodding and smiling up at me. "We don't even have to wait until we get back upstairs to take care of the first part. There's four beds here-which one would you like to use?"
"Let's try all of them, one at a time."
She giggled again and began unbuttoning her blouse as we walked toward the door of the nearest bedroom.
We made love, rested for a few minutes, then went back upstairs. The baby was crying, and I watched the pans on the stove while Teresa went to change her. She kept jumping up and gathering things from all over the apartment while we ate, and I finally gave up trying to eat and began taking things downstairs. It took less than thirty minutes to move everything, because all she had was a few pictures, pots, pans, dishes, and clothes, and all I had was the clothes I'd brought in my musette bag. She wrapped the baby up in a blanket and we went to the grocery store, where she picked out a few more things. When we got back to the apartment, there was a man knocking on the door. I sighed; it didn't take long for word to get around.
"What is it?" I asked him, unlocking the door so Teresa could go in.
"I'm in apartment two C. The people in two B are playing their stereo too loud."
"Did you tell them to turn it down?"
"No, that's your job."
"It's not my job to try to make up for your lack of guts. If you can't go and tell them to turn it down, I'm not going to do it for you. When and if you work up enough guts to go and knock on their door to tell them, then let me know what happens. If they don't turn it down, let me know and I'll come up and listen to see if I think it's too loud. If I think it's too loud, then I'll tell them to turn it down."
"It's not up to you to decide what's too loud and what's not"
"If I'm going to tell them about it, it is."
"But Mr. Baker said that you'd-"
"I don't give a fuck about who said what about anything. I'm telling you how it is. Now get out of my way so I can get my shit carried in."
He stepped back, and I walked through the door, kicking it closed behind me. "Let me give you a hand," Teresa said, dropping her coat over a kitchen chair and walking toward me to get one of the bags. She took one, and I carried the other two into the kitchen. "Are you going to go tell them to turn down their stereo?"
"Hell, no, not until he does it himself. I don't have any use for people who don't have any guts."
"Everyone isn't like you."
"Everyone isn't like anyone, and anyone isn't like anyone else. I still don't have any use for people who don't have any guts."
"I don't-not like you, anyway."
"That's different. You're a woman."
"I've known women who were forceful and independent, and who could-"
"I've known dykes, too. Come on, and let's get this stuff put away so we can go to bed."
She smiled up at me, putting her hand on my arm. "If that's what you want, let's just put away the things that'll spoil. I can put the rest of it away later, when I get up to take care of the baby."
CHAPTER SIX
The weather had cleared up a little the next morning, although it was still bitterly cold, and the regulars were back on the docks. I got there early to see if I could get in ahead of some of the late regulars, but the gang bosses had the jobbers lined up tight and it didn't do me any good. I caught a bus to go back downtown to see if I could get anything there, and shortly after I got on the bus I noticed a help wanted sign outside a gasoline station. The bus stopped again about four blocks further on, and I got off to walk back.
It was still early, and the owner was just opening the place for business. He was a short, stocky, greyheaded man, red-faced, and with an expression which looked as though he could be friendly enough. He was bundled up in an old pea jacket, bustling from place to place as he got ready for the day's business.
"Say, the sign says you need some help. Did you get anyone yet?"
He turned and looked at me, his eyes moving up and down as he studied me. "No, I haven't hired anyone yet. And the sign means what it says-I want help, not advice, and not someone who wants to collect wages while they sit around on their asses. Have you worked in a gas station before?"
"Yes, I have."
"Where?"
"Well, Columbus, Oklahoma City, Albany, Seattle-"
"A bum? Nope, I can't use you." He started to turn away.
"No, I'm not a bum. I travel around, but that don't make me a bum."
He turned back and looked at me. "It makes you undependable, though, and I want someone I can depend on to be here when I open up in the morning."
"You can depend on me. I'll give you notice if I'm going to leave."
He looked at me narrowly, then shook his head again. "No. I don't think so. I don't know you and I don't know if I can depend on you or not-"
I laughed. "Christ, you'll have to try me before you know anything about me. Look, all you're going to get is either some kid who'll steal you blind or some wino who doesn't know whether oil or water goes in a radiator." I shrugged. "I want a job and I'll work, but I'll have to have a chance to work before I can prove it to you."
"Well, you know how to work your mouth, all right"
"Yeah, well, I go through this all the time. You're not by yourself in thinking guys who move around a lot are bums."
"OK, it's two and a half an hour, and you'll be on from nine in the morning until six at night. I pay on Fridays, and I don't give any advances on wages. Get on in there and clean up the grease rack."
I went in, took off my coat, and started work. It was a good job, a lot better than the one on the dock because I was in out of the weather most of the time, and Simmons-the owner of the station-wasn't a bad man to work for. He wanted things moving all the time, and he didn't like any milling around to finish something while a customer was waiting at the pumps for gasoline, but I would have been the same in his place. It had been a while since he'd had any help around the place, and a lot of things had been let go, like the tools, work areas, and so forth. I soaked the hand tools in a bucket of solvent and spent odd minutes during the day in cleaning them up, cleaning and rearranging the things on the work benches, and a few other odds and ends. By the middle of the afternoon it was finally beginning to get through to him that I would work, and we started getting along a lot better.
There had been the usual row of cars left for lubes and tune ups, and we had been working on them all day. A couple of them had been parked at the side of the station when I got there, others were dropped off later on in the morning, and by the time they stopped coming the owners were beginning to pick up the ones we had finished. By three they were all gone but one, then owners began to drop them off to pick up the next day. Simmons' wife came about five, bringing him his supper on a tray, and I worked the pumps while he sat in the station and ate. They started piling up at the pumps from people stopping for gasoline on their way home from work, and he came out to give me a hand with them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and belching.
"Lady called about the Ford over there," he said as we met on the pump island, both of us reaching for paper towels at the same time.
I looked at the line of cars beside the station; it was a car we'd put a lube job on for a four o'clock pickup by the owner. "What about it?"
"Said her husband wouldn't be able to come by for it-got called out of town or something."
We both went back to the cars we were servicing, then exchanged another couple of words while I was waiting for him to finish with the credit card embossing machine. "Does she want it delivered or something?" I asked as he stepped to one side.
He snapped the credit sales slip and credit card in a clipboard, nodding. "If we have time."
I glanced at the line of waiting cars then looked back at him. "Shit."
He laughed and nodded as he went toward the car he was servicing.
We were both assholes and elbows for forty-five minutes, pushing them by the pumps as fast as we could get them through, then it suddenly stopped shortly before six. A fine, misty rain started falling, and the cars moving along the street kept going on, by-passing the station. I cleaned up the island, preparing to go home, and Simmons went inside to answer the telephone. A couple of minutes later he came back out to help me carry the garbage can to the rear of the station and empty out the discarded oil cans and paper towels. "It was the woman about the Ford again," he said, grunting with effort as he lifted his side of the garbage can.
"Well, I'll take it to her if you want me to," I said as we walked toward the rear of the station.
He glanced at me around the side of the can and grunted. "OK, if you're in no hurry to get home. I'll pay you an hour of overtime. It's over in Westwood."
"Forget the overtime-all I want is bus fare. Put it in with my wages."
There was a car at the pumps when we got back around the station, and I went to take care of it while Simmons washed out the garbage can with the hose at the side of the station. It was a woman, and she wanted a fill up. I plugged the nozzle in and set it, then checked the oil, water and battery. Everything was all right, but I noticed a scrub mark on the windshield as I slammed the hood down and I checked the wiper blades as I cleaned off the windshield. They were rotted and worn, and one of them was beginning to drag sidewards. "You need some new wiper blades," I said to her as she handed me the credit card.
She shook her head, smiling regretfully. "I don't want my husband to get mad at me, and he told me to get gasoline, nothing else. Why did you clean off the windshield? It's raining."
"There were some bugs on it, and you pick up a lot of street grime on a windshield when it's raining."
She nodded and smiled, and I went to the rear of the car to top off the tank. She smiled again and I passed the credit slip through the window to her. "Tell your husband about the wiper blades-it'll ruin your windshield if one of them comes off."
She signed the slip, passed it back to me, and I handed her the customer copy. I'll tell him-thanks."
"Thank you," I said, stepping back from the car.
"Falling in love or something?" Simmons called to me as I stood and looked at the fading tail lights of the car.
I looked at him; he was wrestling the garbage can back into place, looking over his shoulder and smiling at me. I shook my head as I went to help him. "Not me-I have plenty at home."
"Married are you, then?" he asked as we slid the can in place.
"No, not married-I just have plenty at home."
He laughed, wiping his hands on a rag, then reached in his pocket and took out a key ring. "The name's Baker, and they live in Freemont .Apartments, Westwood. Apartment 4A."
I took the keys and nodded. "OK-see you tomorrow."
It began raining harder as soon as I drove out of the station, and I took it easy, keeping plenty of distance between the front of the car and the rear of the car in front. It was a new car, with plenty of power under the hood, so I also applied pressure to the accelerator with judgement as I worked my way from one traffic light to the other, heading toward the freeway. There was still plenty of commuter traffic on the freeway, and everyone was in a hurry to get home. I kept the Ford in the slow lane, keeping a tight rein on my impatience as cars swerved around in front of me and forced me to fall further back to keep a braking interval. An import shot around me, almost taking part of the left front fender with him, and I let up on the gas as I glanced in the rear view mirror to see if I was about to be jammed in the ass. The driver in the car behind had his head up, and he also let up on the accelerator, then the cocksucker who had come too close to me tried the same thing on a guy in the left lane, and it didn't work. I steered the Ford over onto the emergency parking ramp to avoid them as they started skidding after the collision, and I could see the wall of lights in the rear view mirror, traffic being bottled up by the accident.
Freemont Apartments was a large, plush building, and I noted that there was a bus stop sign on the corner across the street as I drove the car into the parking lot and steered it into space 4A.
She opened the door, and it was exactly like getting hit in the guts by a hard, unexpected punch. She was a devastatingly beautiful redhead, tall and slender, dressed in a long, flowing lounging robe. Her blue-green eyes had a direct, level look in them, and there was proud, confident line to her full lips and rounded chin. She looked like a woman who could be bitchy and ill-tempered as hell, but she also looked like the smoldering, fiery disposition could find other outlets, could take in stride all any man could give her.
"Yes?"
"The car," I said, jangling the keys. "I brought the car."
She slowly blinked, then deliberately looked me up and down. "You're not the man who brought it the last time."
"OK, I'm not the man who brought it the last time. That doesn't keep you from wanting it, does it?"
Her lips slowly curled into a smile, and she nodded, stepping back from the door. "All right, come on in." She closed the door behind me and waved me toward an easy chair in the living room area "I'll get the check book."
I dug the bill out of my pocket and put it and the keys on the coffee table, then sat down. She came back along the hall with a checkbook and a pen, and the delicate, tantalizing perfume she wore wafted by me as she sat on the edge of the couch and opened the check book. "It isn't raining outside, is it?"
"Cats and dogs-it's a bad night to be out."
She looked up quickly, her eyes wide, then she pressed her lips together in irritation as she looked away. "Oh, shit! It would have to be raining tonight, when Harry has to be away." She shrugged and started filling out the check. "Well, I guess I'll just have to change my plans."
"Somewhere you have to go or something?"
She glanced at me, shrugged, then looked at the bill on the coffee table and finished filling out the check. "It doesn't make any difference-it isn't all that important. It's just inconvenient, and I told Harry that I'd leave him if he ever does this to me again."
"If you decide to, let me know where the line forms so I can have an equal chance along with everyone else."
She was tearing the check out of the book. She froze, looking at me quickly, then a dazzling smile spread across her face. A soft, throaty chuckle bubbled from her as she finished pulling the check from the book and stood up to hand it to me. "Would you care for a cup of coffee or a drink, or do you have to get home to your wife?"
"Cup of coffee sounds good, and I don't have a wife," I said, folding the check and shoving it in my pocket
"Swinging bachelor?" she asked lightly, walking toward the kitchen. "What's your name?"
"Bob Fowler."
"I'm Charlene-Charlene Baker. Hi."
"Hi, Charlene."
I could see her as she moved back and forth in the kitchenette, her long lounging robe swinging back and forth. It was tightly belted, and her hips looked firm and smoothly curved, just wide enough to be proportional with the rest of her tall, slender body, and the neckline of the robe was low enough to give a glimpse of the downy, alabaster-white skin above her jutting breasts. I watched her as she fussed with cups and the pot; her movements were almost nervously quick, as though she were trying to occupy herself, keep her hands busy. My instincts nudged me, telling me to get up and go into the kitchenette.
She looked up at me as I walked into the kitchenette, then she quickly looked away, some of her self-assurance evaporating. "You didn't have to come in here-I would have brought it to you," she said, trying to keep her voice light.
"I like to be near you, Charlene."
She quickly shook her head. "Don't think I was being serious about leaving my husband, Bob. We have a good marriage. We're considerate of each other, he's a good provider, and we have a secure, happy home...." She kept babbling as I moved closer to her, putting my arm loosely around her and touching my lips to the edges of the thick, luxurious folds of hair which were piled on her head. " ... not going to jeopardize my marriage, Bob," she continued, pulling away from me. "I'm not going to hurt my husband and ruin my marriage."
I cupped her shoulder firmly in my hand, holding her to me. "I don't want to jeopardize your marriage either, Charlene. In fact, I wouldn't want to do anything which would hurt you, and I'm not going to."
She sighed, and I could feel a slight tremor passing through her body. "Then what are you doing? Go back in the living room and sit down, Bob-"
"No, I don't want to do that, either. We're here alone, and no one knows that I'm here. There's nothing we could do to jeopardize your marriage, because we're the only ones who would know-"
"I'd know."
"And it might make you a little nicer to your husband when he gets back. Easier to get along with. He won't know why you're being so nice to him, but he'll like it."
"No, Bob, please don't-"
Her voice was smothered as I covered her soft, smooth lips with mine. She was passive, unresisting, and limp in my arms as she leaned back against the cabinet and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her. Hot, fiery hunger for her immediately began to arise in me as I dug my fingers into the soft flesh of her back, feeling only the warm softness of her body, with no bra strap. I slid my tongue between her lips, and a tiny quiver raced through her body as a small, subvocal murmur of protest came from her throat. I held her tighter as she started to move away from me, tracing the tip of my tongue around the inside of her lips and feeling the edges of her teeth. She suddenly came alive in my arms, surging against me, her warm breath fanning my cheek as she bit and sucked at my tongue. I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen as I dug my fingers into her harder, pulling her tight against me, and she relaxed her mouth and opened it wide as I slid my tongue to the back of her throat. She turned her head from side to side, sucking at my tongue, then she began edging her tongue around mine to get it into my mouth. I opened my mouth wider, and we embraced passionately, licking at each other's lips and tongues.
She jerked her lips from mine and put the side of her face on my chest, leaning against me. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me," she panted, her jutting breasts heaving. "I don't know why I didn't tell you to leave as soon as you started glaring at me that way, and why-"
"Because you've got it all built up inside you, Charlene. You're all uptight inside, and your body knows how to get it back together even if your mind doesn't."
"Acting like a bitch in heat won't solve any of my problems. You'd better leave, Bob, before I do something I'll regret. I'm not going to sacrifice everything that means anything to me because of a momentary impulse."
I put my finger under her chin and tilted it, turning her face up toward mine. "Stop acting as though the world would come to an end if we got it on together, Charlene. Stop putting labels on everything and acting as though you have to crucify yourself on a cross of holiness." I tightened my arms around her again as she started to move away from me. "Stop fighting it, Charlene, and-"
"I'm not fighting it. The kettle's boiling, and I want to turn it off before it boils dry. Then we'll go into the bedroom."
I looked at her for the space of three heartbeats, completely frozen as my mind assimilated what she had said, then I moved toward her as she walked toward the stove. A wave of mad, ravening lust for her rolled over me as I went to her, wrapping my arms around her as she turned off the gas jet. She leaned her head back against my chest and put her hands on mine, guiding them toward the jutting mounds of her breasts as she looked up at me, smiling. I lowered my lips to hers as I cupped her resilient breasts through her robe, feeling and caressing them. Her lips opened wide for my tongue, then she suddenly turned in my arms, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing herself to me as she sucked at my tongue and undulated slowly against me. My breath came in quick, shuddering gasps as my hands moved up and down her, feeling the soft, warm flesh of her back, caressing the delicate curve where her hips swelled out from her tiny waist, and cupping her buttocks. She slowly pulled away from me, taking my hand in hers and moving toward the hallway. "Come on, Bob. Let's go in the bedroom, darling."
We walked down the hall toward the bedroom, and I put my arm around her waist, feeling the graceful, athletic swaying of her hips from side to side as I inhaled the delicate, tantalizing fragrance of her perfume. She pushed the bedroom door open and untied the belt on her gown as she walked toward the bed, then turned to look at me as I snapped the light on. "Why did you do that?"
"You're a beautiful woman, Charlene. I want to see you, and I want to look at you while I fuck you."
Her eyelashes fluttered, then her lips curled in a slight smile. "Well, look at me, then," she said, shrugging out of her robe and tossing it to one side.
She stood looking at me, her arms spread apart, naked except for a pair of wispy bikini panties. Her satin skin was gleaming white, her shoulders were slim and delicately shaped, and her arms were slender and graceful. I trembled with desire as my eyes moved over her slender chest and the full, jutting orbs of her breasts, then down to the smooth curve where her hips swelled out from her tiny waist. A ravening desire for her body began to pound in my head, and I longed to rip the flimsy panties from her and to thrust my throbbing cock into her pussy. I ached to drive my cock into her mouth, her asshole, and her pussy, and I burned with the need to let my come gush out into her body.
I moved toward her, and she held out her arms to me, sliding them around my neck as I embraced her. I kissed her, driving my tongue deep into her mouth and touching the sides of her mouth with it as I pushed her backwards until we reached the bed, then she slowly lowered herself on it to a reclining position. My hands moved over her body, cupping her breasts and squeezing them, caressing her smooth skin, then moving down to feel her buttocks and pussy through her panties. Our lips parted, and I opened my mouth wide as I sucked one of her breasts into my mouth, flicking the tip of my tongue back and forth across her nipple. Her nipples suddenly became hard and jutting, and she made a soft whimpering sound in her throat as one of her hands pressed the back of my head and the other groped for the front of my pants. My cock was thrusting against the front of my pants in a trembling, throbbing hardon, and she suddenly stiffened as she put her hand on it. Her breath hissed in between her teeth as she felt up and down my cock with quick, soft touches of her fingers, and she slid her hand from the back of my head to my chin, raising my head from her breast. "Bob ... Bob, darling."
I raised my head and looked at her, gruntin' interrogatively.
"Bob, that can't be ... it's so ... Bob, it's ... take your clothes off and let me look at you, darling."
I pushed myself up from the bed, unfastening my belt and pants, then I pulled them open and let my cock expand to its full length. It was so hard that it was almost painful, the head of it shiny and swollen, and her mouth dropped open as she looked at it. "God, it's huge," she gasped, sitting up. "I've never seen anything ... oh, God, it's beautiful, she continued, whispering softly and reaching for it. She touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers, and a fiery lance of sensation shot through me, making every muscle in my body taut. She cupped it between her hands, looking at it, and I put my hand behind her head as I moved closer to her.
"Open your mouth, Charlene."
She looked up at me, still cupping my cock between her hands, then looked back down at my cock and opened her mouth obediently. I held her face between my hands as I moved closer to her, and the head of my cock touched her soft lips. I put my fingers between her lips, opening them wider, then slowly slid the head of my cock into her mouth. The hot, damp feel of her mouth on my cock made ecstatic waves of sensation roll over me, and my legs began trembling as I slowly undulated my hips, pressing more of my cock between her lips. She closed her lips around it and pressed it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth as I held her head between my hands and rocked my hips back and forth, fucking her in the mouth. I slid more and more of it into her mouth until half of its swollen length was sliding between her lips and saliva was beginning to run from the sides of her mouth down her chin. The semen began to swell into a hard, tight knot within me, and the pressure began rapidly building as I looked down at the beautiful redhead sitting on the side of the bed as I fucked her in the mouth.
I pulled my cock back out of her mouth, and she looked up at me interrogatively. Her face was flushed with sympathetic arousal, and her chin shined with the saliva which streamed from her mouth. I pushed her back on the bed, then put my hands in the waistband of her panties. She put her heels on the edge of the bed and raised her hips so I could pull the panties off her, then she held her legs high in the air as I slid them off her feet. I tossed them down, then began taking my clothes off.
She put her heels on the bed again, spreading her legs wide apart. "This is what you're going to get, darling," she said, patting her pussy with her fingers. "You can have all of it you want. You can push all of that big, long, beautiful cock in me and come in me until I'm full."
Her tantalizing words and the sound of her shaking voice made the violent, hungry need arise within me again, and I longed to spear the entire length of my cock into her with a single lunge as I looked down at her, at the small mound of curly red hair and at the beautiful pussy she was holding open with the tips of her fingers. I kicked my shoes off and pushed my pants, shorts, and socks off my feet, then walked toward her naked. She started to squirm back on the bed, and I took her soft, warm thighs in my hands, holding her. "Not yet, Charlene-just stay there."
She raised her head and looked at me as I lowered myself to my knees at the side of the bed, then she gave a muffled cry as I trailed the tip of my tongue down the inside of her thigh, from her knee to her pussy. She stiffened, raising her buttocks off the bed as my tongue approached her pussy, and she spread her legs wider apart as I cupped her buttocks in my hands and opened my mouth wide, covering her entire pussy with it. I sucked her pussy as I flicked the tip of my tongue back and forth through the crack in her vulva, and her hips bounced convulsively as she gave a long, ragged cry. "Oh, God, that's wonderful, darling," she moaned. That's so good ... so good ... that's wonderful ... aaaaaahhhhhhhh...." Her voice trailed off into a wordless murmer of sound as she put her long, slender legs over my shoulders, pressing her heels against my back and thrusting her pussy harder at my mouth as she squeezed my head between her thighs. I squeezed her buttocks in my hands and ran the tip of my tongue over her clitoris, and it swelled into a hard, tight nub as her body began bouncing harder. I flicked the tip of my tongue back and forth across her clitoris, and her legs slid from my shoulders as she sat up, pulling at my head with her hands. "Come on, darling, get on the bed ... got to have you ... want your cock in my mouth ... let me suck your cock while you do that, darling ... come on, come on...."
She rolled over to the center of the bed as I got up, and I crawled on the bed, looking at her. She was panting with passion, her jutting breasts heaving and her damp lips parted, and her face was drawn and flushed. I lay down by her in the 69 position, reaching for her buttocks, and she eagerly grasped at my cock, her mouth wide open in hunger for it. I buried my face between her soft thighs, searching for her clitoris again with my tongue, and she clutched my cock between her hands as she kissed along it with soft, quick pecks of her lips. A shudder ran through her body as my tongue touched her clitoris, and she began lapping at my cock with her tongue, trailing the tip of it up and down it, then circling the head of it. I cupped her buttocks firmly in my hands, then slid one of my fingers down between her buttocks, feeling for her anus. I found it, then began sliding my finger slowly in and out of her tight, tiny asshole in rhythm with my tongue stroking her clitoris. She gave a muffled cry, then I felt the hot, tight pressure of her lips around my cock as she took it into her mouth.
She forced her head down on my cock, taking it in until the head of it was jammed against the back of her throat and she gagged on it, then she began driving her head back and forth, sucking at it and moaning with a low, whimpering noise in her throat. I gradually increased the pressure on her, flicking my tongue back and forth more rapidly and stabbing her tight asshole deeper with my finger, and I moved my head forward, searching for her pussy with my tongue. I found it, and I drove my tongue into it, wriggling the tip of it as it entered her.
"Aaaaahhhhhhh," she cried, letting my cock slide from her mouth and struggling to roll over on her back. "Oh, God ... fuck me, darling ... push it in me now, darling ... fuck me, please fuck me ... got it have it now...."
I released her and pushed myself up, turning, and she wriggled under me, flexing her knees and spreading her legs wide apart as she reached down with both hands for my cock. "Let me have it ... I'll put it in ... come on, darling, just move up a little ... a little more ... closer ... now push it in a little-just push on it ... that's right ... THAT'S RIGHT-THAT'S IT-THAT'S ... FUCK ME-FUCK ME-PUSH! PUSH! HARDER! OH, GOD ... GOD ... AAAAGGGGGHHHHH...."
I gripped her buttocks in my hands as I drove my cock into her, spearing more than half of it into her with a single, hard lunge, and she put her feet behind my thighs and reached further down to cup my balls as she released my cock, letting it slide into her. I held her buttocks up off the bed and pulled my cock back out, then slid it back into her, and she squeezed my balls in her hands with a pressure which was just short of painful as my cock glided back into her. Her blue eyes gleamed behind her slitted eyelids and her mouth was half open as I began fucking her with hard, quick thrusts of my cock, and deep, throaty grunts came from her chest each time it slid into her. She released my balls and threw her arms wide apart, and I lifted her buttocks higher off the bed, driving more of my cock into her. She began undulating in waves which began at her shoulders and travelled down through her beautiful body to her pelvis, and her pussy snapped up at me as my cock slid in and out of it. Her eyes slowly opened wider, and she looked up at me as she lay sprawled in front of me in sensual abandon. "Push it all in, darling-shove all of it into me-drive it into me until it's splitting me apart-" she moaned, doubling her legs up against her belly and holding her knees in her hands.
My cock sank into her up to the base, and my balls pressed against her tight ass as it went all the way in. She hissed through her teeth, closing her eyes, then she slowly opened them again as I fucked her with long, hard strokes of my cock. "That's it ... that's it ... that's good ... so good ... that'll make me come, darling ... I'm going to come, darling. . it's closer ... going to come ... closer ... closer ... I'm going to come ... going to COME ... NOW ... NOW ... I'M COMING ... AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! OH, GOD! OH, GOD!"
Her body writhed in convulsive throes as the sensations reached a peak, and I gripped her thighs, pounding my cock into her to drive her on through the climax. The wild flurry of motion gripped her for long moments as it wrung her, then she collapsed with a long, moaning wail, her body going completely limp. I fell forward on her, my lungs gasping for air and my control shuddering on the brink of rupture, with the ballooning mass of semen bursting, straining to get out. She put her arms loosely around my neck as I held her, and her resilient breasts soft-stabbed me in my chest as she labored for breath. "God, that was good, darling-that was wonderful," she panted, kissing me moistly on the side of my face. I raised my head and looked down at her face, and she smiled weakly as she looked up at me, panting through her parted lips. I covered her mouth with mine, and her warm breath through her nostrils fanned the side of my face as I slid my tongue into her mouth. She sucked and nibbled at it as she combed her fingers through my hair, then she put both her hands on the sides of my face and lifted my head, looking into my eyes. "Would you come in me now, darling? It would make it perfect for me if you would. Just come in me and let it all out inside me."
"I don't want it to end so soon-I want to fuck you for as long as I can."
"Will it get hard again if we rest for a while?"
"Sure, but that's not the point. I want to fuck you for as long as I can each time."
"Please, darling, do it for me. Make it quick this time, and you can take as long as you wish the next time. I want to feel you come in me."
I looked down at her beautiful face as she looked up at me, pleading for me to come in her, and suddenly I wanted to; letting my come spurt out into her seemed to be the most important thing in the world to me. I pushed myself up to a kneeling position, taking her calves in my hands and raising her legs, nodding. "OK, honey," I grated in a voice hoarse with arousal. "If that's what you want, that's what you'll get."
I held her legs wide apart as I undulated my hips, sliding my cock in and out of her hot, tight pussy. The sight of the beautiful woman on the bed in front of me and the sensation of my cock gliding in and out of her damp pussy was exhilarating, stimulating me so that the come immediately began to knot up into a hard, tight pressure in my loins. I looked down at my thick, hard cock sliding in and out of her beautiful pussy, then I looked at her jutting, resilient breasts bobbing from the force of my thrusting into her, and my breath began to come in hoarse, gasping pants. "Harder, darling," she whispered, her voice shaking from the pounding of my body against hers. "Do it harder and faster, and let it spurt out into me."
The ecstatic sensations raging through me suddenly careened to an almost unbearable level as she whispered to me, begging for my come. I gripped her legs tighter and ground my teeth together, straining to keep it back, and it felt as though it were tearing me apart with pressure. She began wriggling her hips from side to side, and the additional stimulation combined with the sight of her slender, lithe body writhing in front of me was too much. The balloon of semen ruptured, and I slammed my cock into her with a wild, uncontrolled pace as it began spurting out of me. She uttered a small, glad cry as she felt the hot stream entering her, and I numbly heard her hot, passionate whispers of gratification as the ecstatic sensations wrung me, draining my come into her body. I fell forward on her, gasping with relief, and she uttered small murmurs of satisfaction as she stroked her fingers through my hair and continued twisting her hips from side to side, sucking the last of the come from me with her tight pussy.
CHAPTER SEVEN
There were a couple of small incidents in the apartment house the next couple of nights, but word had spread around on me and it didn't take more than a couple of words to settle them. I was bothered for the first two or three nights with people like the man from 2C, who'd wanted me to tell the people next door to turn down their stereo before he'd told them himself, but word also got around that I wouldn't make up for what someone else lacked as a man. There was one exception. A woman on the third floor stopped me in the hallway as I was coming back down from the fourth floor, and she told me that the man next door made a nuisance of himself when he came in drunk, which happened three or four times a week. I told her to tell her husband to take care of it and started to turn away, but she was suddenly in front of me, her hand resting against the front of my pants, her breasts more than half revealed at the top of her dressing gown.
I could hear the drunk in the next apartment floundering around and making noise as we went into her apartment. She had a couple of small children and they were sitting in the living room, their eyes glued to the TV screen, and I followed her into the bedroom. I didn't want to ruin myself for the night and get Teresa suspicious, but on the other hand the woman had distinctly aroused my interest and my cock was more than half hard from following her into her apartment with my hand on her firm, shapely ass, feeling it move from side to side. I compromised on a quickie blow job, and made her sit on the side of the bed while I fucked her in the face. She enjoyed it and she was good at it, and when I finally came the hot, thick stream of come filled her mouth more rapidly than she could swallow it, and it flowed out of the sides of her mouth and down her chin as I pumped the last of it into her mouth.
The drunk next door quieted down as soon as I pushed him around a little, and there was an unspoken invitation in his wife's eyes as I left the apartment. The woman next door was also out in the hall, and she smiled up at me as I paused long enough to playfully pinch her tit. She glanced along the hallway to make sure no one was looking, then pulled her gown open and let the smooth, firm orb of her breast slide out. I cupped it in my hand, feeling it, and she leaned against me and smiled up at me as she patted the front of my pants. "Come back up and see me again some time," she said in a low, soft voice.
I sighed and nodded, giving her breast a final squeeze. "Yeah, I'll do that, honey."
I walked back down the stairs, thinking that the apartment building and Chicago in winter wasn't too bad after all. A few minutes later I was sitting on the couch with Teresa on my lap, feeling her pussy and kissing her, then a few minutes after that we were in bed again, our bodies fused together in the fiery heat of passion.
The next day was a hard one at the station, with lines of cars at the pumps all the time and more than enough business in grease jobs and oil changes to keep both of us busy all day. We both went at a dead run all day and managed to get it all done. There was some kind of rumpus going on up on the sixth floor that night, because I could hear the screaming and shouting all the way down to our apartment. But no one called me and I was so tired that I didn't feel like climbing the stairs just to see what was going on.
The following day was Saturday, and I slept in after waking early and getting some pussy from Teresa. It was about nine or ten when she woke me, shaking my shoulder. "Bob, Mrs. Hollister is here-the old lady from upstairs. Something's happened to those children she talks about all the time-the Harris children."
I groaned, then swung my legs out from under the covers and reached for my clothes. "OK. Pour me out some coffee, and I'll be there in a minute."
The old woman was standing in the center of the living room, wringing her hands and shaking with agitation. "Son, you've got to do something about that man Harris," she said as I walked in.
"OK, OK, just settle down, Granny," I said in a soothing tone. I felt genuinely concerned, because she looked as though she might be working herself into a stroke or a heart attack, considering her age, and I like the old woman. "Sit down and have yourself a cup of coffee with me, and we can talk about it."
"Coffee!" she exploded. "How in God's name can you think of coffee after what's happened-"
"Because I don't know what's happened, and there'll be plenty of time to get upset after I do know. Now, the building isn't on fire and I don't hear sirens anywhere, so set your old ass down on that chair because I'm not going to listen to you until you do."
She looked at me for a couple of seconds, completely motionless as she pondered whether or not to get mad at me, then she turned toward the chair with a tight nod and sat down. "Well, he's up there now, and I don't want him to get away before you do something about him."
Teresa handed me a cup of coffee as I sat down. She smiled at me and touched the side of my face with her fingertips, and I caught her hand in mine and pulled her down on the arm of my chair as I took the coffee. I put my arm around her and sipped the coffee, looking at the old woman. "OK, how about some coffee, Granny?"
She shook her head. "I don't want any coffee-I want you to go upstairs and do something about that man."
"What man are we talking about?"
"Harris-that's who I'm talking about."
"What did he do?"
"He raped his daughter-that's what he did," she hissed. I froze, the coffee cup halfway to my lips, and the old woman nodded emphatically, a satisfied expression on her wrinkled face as she saw that she had my undivided attention.
"He raped his oldest daughter, and from what she tells me he tried to assault at least one of his other children. And all this happened in the presence of a street walker he brought home with him last night. That's what the child told me-he had a whore with him who sat and laughed while she watched all this happening."
I thought for a moment, then took a sip of coffee and nodded. "Granny, how well do you know the girl who told you all of this? I mean, are you absolutely sure you can believe her?"
"She's up in my apartment right now. You come up and. talk to her and see if you don't believe her."
"All right, I will talk to her. For right now, I'm asking you-do you believe her?"
The old woman nodded emphatically. "I know Mary Jo, and I know her father. I believe her."
"Well, why didn't you call the police, then? I mean, I can go kick his ass around, but if what the kid says is true, he should be arrested and prosecuted for it."
"Mary Jo is old enough and experienced enough to know what would happen to her and the rest of the children. That's the main reason she's upset-she's afraid they'll all become a ward of the courts and be split up into different homes or something. And they probably will be. I get the idea that this has happened before, and she hasn't done anything about it because of that. She's been thoughtful and moody at times, and it begins to make sense to me now, if this is what she's been going through. Now that he started on one of the other children, though, I guess she just couldn't keep quiet any longer."
I walked to the kitchen table, taking a couple more sips of the coffee, then set the cup on the table and turned toward the door. "All right, let's go talk to Mary Jo."
The old woman bounced up the stairs as though she were a twenty-year-old, scarcely breathing heavy when we got up to her floor, and I revised my ideas about being apprehensive about her having a stroke or heart attack as I panted from the climb and she impatiently led the way down the hall toward the front door of her apartment.
The apartment was austere and bare of the pictures, mementoes, and other garbage I thought the old woman would have had, more like a monk's cell than an old woman's dwelling, but it scarcely registered on my consciousness. As I entered the front door, my eyes fell on the girl sitting on the couch and looking at the floor with a despondent expression on her face. She had been crying and her clothes were old and worn, but that seemed to enhance rather than detract from the first impression she made on me. She was an angel, a teen-aged angel in worn blue jeans and a ragged, ill-fitting sweatshirt. Her face was small and triangular, with massive blue eyes which made her look almost like the novelty pictures of small boys and girls with overly large eyes which are sold in dime stores. She was thin and frail, about five feet tall and well under a hundred pounds, but there was a hint of maturity and independence in the way she held her head and mouth. "So you're the Bob Fowler everyone is talking about," she said quietly, her large, blue eyes staring into my eyes.
It was more a remark one would expect from a thirty-year-old rather than from a fifteen or sixteen year old, and it made me pause. "So you're Mary Jo," I said, recovering myself and walking toward the easy chair in front of the couch.
She nodded easily, then her eyes moved to the old woman. "I guess you want me to tell him about it?"
"Why, of course I do, honey. Someone's got to do something-"
"In that case, I'll tell him all the details. But I don't want you to hear it, Mrs. Hollister. We'll go out in the hall, or we can go in the bedroom-"
"Well, you don't have to do that, Mary Jo," the old woman interrupted her, her voice sharp with pique. "I don't think there's anything you could say that I don't already know, but if you don't want me listening while you talk to him I can go in the bedroom...." The old woman's voice trailed off, inviting a negative reply.
"Thank you. I would appreciate that very much, Mrs. Hollister."
"Well, when you're through talking, let me know so I can come back in and sit in my own living room," the old woman snapped, stamping through the bedroom door and slamming it behind herself.
"Why didn't you want her in here? I mean, she seems to be in on the ground floor of this more than I am-"
My voice broke off as she looked at me, unloading the full force of the massive, limpid blue eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. Everyone has their own idea of what it takes to make a woman attractive in terms of size, color of eyes, length of hair, and so forth, and somehow Mary Jo's characteristics perfectly matched those which I found most attractive. And she knew it, because there was a firm bond of unspoken communication between us, spanning the years which separated us as easily as it did the distance of ten feet. I also knew that she was responding to me, wanting me with a maturity which again went far beyond her years.
"I'll get to that," she said quietly. "First, I want it perfectly understood that the police aren't to be involved. Jimmie, Johnnie, and Tina aren't going to be taken away from me. I promised my mother that I'd look after them and take care of them, and I'd want to even if I hadn't promised, because I love them more than anything on earth. Is that understood?
I thought for a moment; I was actually breaking the law in not reporting a crime of which I knew, and if the courts had jurisdiction over the children before, what had happened the night before might not have taken place. But while the girl was young, just a child really, she had a streak of maturity which was lacking in a lot of mothers. I slowly nodded. "All right-understood."
"Very well, I'll tell you the whole story, then. My father began this several months ago. At first he just seemed to be especially fond of me, then it began to go beyond that. I know enough about things to know what he was doing. When I'd stop him feeling me, or I wouldn't sit on his lap like he wanted, he'd go out and get drunk. He drank a little almost every night, but on those times he'd spend all of his money and occasionally stay away for a day or two. Then one night he told me that if I didn't let him do what he wanted, he'd go away and not come back. That night was the first time we actually, ah ... had sex together."
I listened as the young girl sat and calmly told me of her courtship by her father in a quiet, controlled voice, and I knew why she'd wanted the old woman to leave-she would have been horrified. But I'd heard it all before; all this and more was life in the slums. "This was several months ago?"
"Yes. He wanted to do it once or twice a week, and that seemed to satisfy him. Actually, it was during that time that he didn't drink very much at all, and he brought most of his money home, bought presents for my brothers and sisters, and things like that. I told the school nurse that my period pains were very bad, and she sent me to a doctor who gave me some birth control pills. He was on the county health service program and didn't charge anything, but he tried to get something else for them." She looked down at her hands, rubbing at a mark on the back of one of them. "I didn't let him, though. I don't like to do it, and I won't when I can get out of it." She sighed and looked back up at me. "But anyway I didn't have to worry about getting pregnant, you see. Then he began to get bad again a few weeks ago. I suppose he was getting tired of me. He didn't want to do it as much, and sometimes he whipped me and called me a whore, and things like that." She looked down at her hands again. "Last night split it with me. He brought this old woman home with him, and she sat and watched while he did it to me. Then he tried to make Jimmie ... you know, ah ... suck his thing." She sighed again and shook her head. "That was too much. I don't mind letting him do it to me, but trying to pervert my brother is too much."
"Is he your natural father? I mean, he's not your step-father is he?"
She looked up at me, raising her eyebrows and shaking her head. "No, he's my real father. Why?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, the idea of your turning him on sort of grosses me out."
Her lips tightened, and her tiny nostrils flared slightly. "It grosses me out for someone else to look down their nose at me and tell me how easy it is to do this, that, and yonder when they don't know a fucking thing about the situation. Sure, I could have gone to the social worker and told her about it, and instead of my putting up with something like this it would have been all of us. You don't know what goes on in orphanages and homes-"
"Yes, I know, Mary Jo, and I'm not saying that-"
"You're not saying a fucking thing-you're just running your mouth. If you don't know how my shoes feel, then don't talk about how I limp. I'm not a whore-he's the only one who's ever done it to me, and the only reason I let him was because of what I said...."
She rattled angrily as I got up from the chair and sat down by her on the couch, and I put my hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. "All right, chick, all right-get back out of my shit. I wasn't being critical of you or of what you've done. In fact, I don't know many who'd have the guts to do what you've done, and I've never met anyone who thinks enough of their brothers and sisters to do what you've done."
She looked up at me, the anger fading from her face, then she looked down at the floor. Her shoulders suddenly started shaking as she began crying quietly. "I haven't had anyone to help me," she sobbed, starting to pull away from me. "There's been no one to talk to, no one to tell me what to do...."
I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her to me, and she put her face against my chest, sniffling and gulping as she tried to stop crying. "Don't try to hold it back, honey-just let it all hang out."
She shook her head firmly, pulling away from me and wiping impatiently at her cheeks with the back of her hands. "No, I'm not a baby, Bob. I'll be all right, and I'll manage somehow."
"You'll be all right, because I'll see to that," I said, standing. "As a matter-of-fact, I'll go see about that right now."
"What are you going to do?" she asked, blinking up at me.
"Well, first I'm going to go talk to your old man-"
"But you can't do that. What if he leaves us? What if he just gets mad and leaves? I can't work because I'm not old enough, and we don't have any money or anything. The welfare people will get in on it, and-"
"Mary Jo, we can't let things go on this way. To start with, I wouldn't settle for a situation like this, your screwing your old man so he'll make some effort to support you and the other kids. Apparently even that won't satisfy him any more, from what happened last night, so things are going to hell on a skate for you. Something's got to be done."
She looked down at the floor, struggling to keep from breaking into tears again, and nodded slightly. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she said, shrugging her shoulders hopelessly.
"I know I am." I turned toward the bedroom door. "Granny!"
The door immediately opened; she had apparently had her ear glued to it. "What is it, son?"
"Stay with Mary Jo. I'm going up to talk to her old man."
The old woman smiled broadly, nodding and walking into the room. "All right, go ahead and talk to him. I'll make some tea for her, and we'll have a nice visit with each other-"
"I should see about the children," Mary Jo said, clearing her throat. "Maybe I'd better go up there with you and make sure that they're all right. He's asleep, but when he wakes up-"
"I'll send them down here," I said, walking toward the door.
The little girl opened the door when I knocked on it. She stared up at me, open-mouthed, then stood back as I entered. She was about four or five, her hands and face were grimy, and she was dressed in a ragged, torn and patched shift-like garment. There were two boys sitting on the couch; they were between the small girl and Mary Jo in age, and they also looked dirty, poorly fed, and ill-kempt, with bare feet and ragged blue jeans and shirts. "OK, all of you kids go down to Mrs. Hollister's apartment-you know where that is?"
"Where's Mary Jo?" one of the boys asked as they got off the couch and moved uncertainly toward the door.
"Down at Mrs. Hollister's apartment-go on down there and take your sister with you."
"Has she got something to eat?" the small girl lisped.
"Probably-tell her I said to give you something to eat. Go on down there and stay with Mary Jo."
They filed out the door and walked down the hallway toward the stairs, holding hands and chattering to each other as their bare feet padded on the dirty, bare wooden floor. I closed the door and went to the bedroom doors, pushing them open. There was no one in the first one, which was apparently the children's. I opened the door of the second one, and a strong, foul odor of bad breath and unwashed bodies struck me solidly in the face. It was dim, with the ragged shades pulled down over the windows, but I could see that there were two people in the old brass bed and both of them were snoring sonorously. I walked over to the bed and jerked the dirty, smelly covers back, and both of them protested sleepily, pawing for the covers. The naked woman was fat, middle-aged, and ugly, with veined, pendulous breasts and a large, sagging belly. I wrapped my fingers firmly around a handful of her stringy hair and dragged her out of bed, and she screamed with pain, shock, and surprise as she thudded heavily onto the floor.
"What the fuck?" the man bellowed, sitting up. "What the fuck's going on here? Who are you? What are you-"
"Shut the fuck up, Harris-I'll get to you in a minute." I looked down at the woman. "Get your clothes on and make your break."
"Who are you?" she shrieked, clambering to her feet. "What are you doing-"
"I'm the son of a bitch who's going to kick the living shit out of you if you don't start moving out of here," I snarled at her.
"Like shit you are!" Harris shouted, crawling across the bed. "I'll show you-"
His voice broke off in a ragged cry of pain as I brought my right around, putting all my weight behind it, and it ground into his nose and mouth, rolling him back over on the bed as blood burst from his nostrils. I wheeled toward the woman, bringing my left around in a slap, and my knuckles slashed across her face, knocking her to her knees. I put my foot against her flabby breasts and shoved her, and she toppled over on the floor on her back, her legs spreading apart in a grotesque, obscene parody of sexual invitation. "Now get the fuck up from there, get your goddamned clothes on, and get your flabby ass out of here before I kick you out in the hall without your clothes."
It had finally penetrated, and she was frightened. She gave me a quick, scared glance as she stood beside the chair where she had piled her clothes and put them hurriedly on. It took her only a couple of minutes, then she picked up her purse from the bureau and ran from the bedroom. I looked at Harris as the front door slammed closed behind her. He was sitting crosslegged in the center of the bed, holding the dirty, ragged sheet to his nose. "Mary Jo tells me you've been getting into her panties."
"She's a goddamned liar," he replied, his voice muffled by the sheet. "That kid makes up more shit on me to tell people, and sometimes they believe her-"
He ducked his head under the covers as I swiped at him with the back of my hand. I jerked the covers off his face and slapped him solidly a couple of times, then I wiped the blood off my hands onto the dirty sheet and looked at him as he lay staring wildly up at me, tears of frustration and pain in his eyes. "Let's start over. I think a guy who'd fuck his own daughter is about the lowest thing on earth. The only thing lower than that is a guy who'd try to make one of his kids suck his cock. So we can start out by what I think of you, Harris."
"I won't do it any more," he squealed, cowering on the bed. "I won't do anything like that any more-"
"No, I can't trust you, Harris. I know I can make you do whatever I want when I'm here, but when there's no one but you and those kids here, I'm not sure you'd have enough sense to do what I told you. You might get drunk and get your cock hard, then all you'd have on your mind is dipping it somewhere. No, I" think the only solution is for you to leave here, Harris."
"But how about the kids? What'll they do? Who'll take care of-"
"That's a problem, and I'm not sure, but I can't leave the situation as it is. You've got an hour, and if you're here after that I'll take you down to the docks, kill your ass, and throw you in the lake. People turn up down there every day, and one more won't cause any comment. And I don't mean that you've got an hour to move across the street. You've got an hour to be out of Chicago. Just get on a bus and go somewhere else."
"But where can I go? I've always lived here, and I don't know anyone anywhere else-? He broke off and quailed back on the bed as I moved toward him again. "All right, all right. I'll leave. I'll get on a bus and go somewhere else...."
I nodded, turning toward the door. "An hour-if you're here after that, your fat ass will feed the fish, Harris."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Teresa was waiting for me on the first landing as I went back down the stairs toward the old woman's apartment. "What are you doing here, honey? Christ, it looks as though everyone's getting in on the act."
"Mrs. Hollister came down and told me about it, Bob-isn't that the most horrible thing you've ever heard of? What are you going to do to him? We should call the police in on it, and-"
"And when we do, they'll have the welfare people in here an hour later, then all those kids will go to an orphanage or a home. What's more, they might take a look at us, and you'd be in deep, serious trouble as well."
She thought for a moment, then slowly nodded. "You're right. The only thing to do is to run him off and make him stay away, and we can bring Mary Jo and the children down to our apartment to stay."
The prospect of having an apartment full of children had probably raised a subconscious barrier in my mind, keeping me from seeing the obvious solution. But there were other problems, like taking responsibility for another family when the most responsibility I was accustomed to having was seeing that my musette bag didn't get lost.
"...that is, unless you don't want to take them in," she continued. "It would cost a lot to have them with us, groceries and things like that. It's enough, or more than enough, that you're supporting me and-"
"That's not the big thing, Teresa. Having two women in the house is asking for trouble. I've been there before, and one thing I can't stand is a bunch of picking and nagging between two women all the time-"
"You wouldn't have to worry about that," she said, shaking her head quickly. "Mary Jo and I have known each other for quite a while-she used to come and ask me about things she couldn't talk about with Mrs. Hollister. I didn't know what was going on between her and her father or anything, but she asked me some time ago about getting pregnant. I thought she had a boy friend or something and she was afraid of getting pregnant by him, so I told her to go to the school nurse and tell her that her period pains were bad so she'd help her get some birth control pills."
"She told me about getting the pills, but she didn't tell me that you were involved."
"She might have thought you'd get mad at me or something. She's a good kid, Bob, and the only thing she really thinks about very much is the welfare of her brothers and sisters. There's another thing, too. I wouldn't be jealous of her. I mean, I like her a lot and everything, and if you could get it on with her it wouldn't make me mad. Just as long as you didn't make it with her all the time and forget me, anyway. I'd kill most any other woman you looked at, but like I said, I like her a lot and we get along together. Also, it wouldn't be right for you to take her and the kids in, feed them and buy them things, and not get anything out of it yourself. I mean, it just wouldn't be right to expect you to do something like that."
Suddenly the responsibility for another family didn't seem so foreboding. There was a noise behind us on the stairs, and I turned to look. It was Harris, dressed and with his hat and coat on, and he was carrying a battered suitcase. "Don't say a fucking word, Harris. Just keep on walking down the stairs and out of the building. And don't slow down on your way to the bus station."
He sidled around us on the landing, the suitcase bumping against the bannister, looking at me warily, and went on down the stairs. Teresa looked up at me. "Well, what do you think?"
I shrugged. "Well, we can't leave them by themselves, that's for sure. Go tell them to bring their shit on down, then come on down and fix something to eat-I'm hungry."
She nodded, smiling, and trotted down the stairs toward the old woman's apartment. I went on down to the apartment. The coffee was still on the stove, and I poured myself a cup and sat down on the couch, sipping it. The baby was howling in the bedroom, but it didn't bother me; I was pleased with the way things had turned out, and I kept remembering how Mary Jo's warm, soft body had felt when I had put my arm around her on the couch. Teresa came in, smiling, then glanced toward the bedroom. "They're getting their things sorted out now," she said, walking toward the bedroom. "I'll change the baby, then I'll fix breakfast for you."
The old woman was still in the middle of it, and she led the parade as they filed in through the door, carrying paper bags and cardboard cartons of belongings. Mary Jo gave me a shy smile from behind the box she was carrying, and Teresa left the stove for a moment to show them where to put their things. They didn't have very much, a few clothes, a bundle of soiled linen, and a few pots and pans, and they brought the rest of it down in one more trip. After that, it turned into a gathering. The old woman went back up to her apartment for a package of bacon, Teresa began peeling potatoes, and Mary Jo, Teresa, and the old woman clustered in the kitchenette, cooking and chatting happily. I sat on the couch and sipped coffee, feeling like the lord of a feudal manor, with the children sitting on the floor in front of the TV and watching it with open mouthed concentration.
We ate, and I went to the bathroom to belatedly shave and shower. When I came back out, the old woman had gone back up to her apartment, Mary Jo was finishing the dishes, and Teresa was fussing with the children, getting them dressed in some other clothes. "Bob, there's a matinee of cartoons at the Rialto," she said, looking at me hopefully. "It wouldn't cost much, and they'd really enjoy it. There's been a lot of fighting and fussing going on around them, and they're upset-"
"Sure," I said, reaching into my pocket for a five. "Go ahead and take them if you want to. There's a ball game on TV I want to watch this afternoon."
"That's too much. Mary Jo can't go because she has to clean up the apartment so the manager will take it back, and-"
"Get them some popcorn and candy, or something."
She nodded, taking the five, then stood on tiptoe to kiss me. "All right, let's get ready," she said, turning to the children. "Go get the baby, Johnnie. Jimmie, get the coats and help Tina get hers on."
It suddenly became transparently clear that Teresa had set it up to clear the apartment of everyone except me and Mary Jo. Mary Jo was in one of Teresa's dresses, one on which the skirt was short enough to show much of her smooth, stixrdy thighs, and she was quietly stacking the dishes in the cabinets, her eyes not meeting mine and her face somewhat flushed. Teresa fussed around, getting the children ready and putting on her coat, then she gave me another quick peck on the lips and herded the children out of the apartment. The door closed behind them, and the rattle of the last few dishes going into the cabinet was suddenly loud in the silence. Mary Jo snatched up a dish towel and rubbed furiously at the kitchen sink, drying it, then she shook the towel, folded it, and laid it neatly on the edge of the sink. The silence between us was strained, taut with meaning. She glanced around the kitchenette, looking for something else to do, then almost but not quite glanced at me. Clearing her throat nervously, she turned and walked toward the hallway between the bedrooms, wiping her hands on her dress.
"Mary Jo."
She stopped, glanced at me, then dropped her eyes to the floor. "I'll be in here," she said, waving vaguely at the bedrooms, then she turned again and almost ran into one of the bedrooms.
There was a soft sound of her feet against the floor in the other room as she moved around for a moment, then there was silence. I got up and turned off the TV, then went to the bedroom door and pushed it open. The dress was over a chair by the bed, and she was a small, curved mound under the covers, her back to the door. A glow of anticipation burned slowly within me, a burning, tingling feeling which spread throughout my body. I unbuttoned my shirt as I walked toward the bed, then shrugged out of it and dropped it as I kicked my shoes off. She cleared her throat nervously again and pushed her hair back from her face, then she tugged at the covers, pulling them tighter around her. I unfastened my belt and pushed my pants, shorts, and socks off, then I dropped them on the floor and lifted the edge of the covers, sliding into bed. "You'll be nice to me, won't you?" she asked in a small, timid voice. "Not rough or anything?"
"I won't hurt you, Mary Jo. Come here."
She wriggled backwards toward me, and I put my arm around her. She was naked, and her body felt warm and soft, her skin satin smooth. She flinched away when she felt my half-hard cock against her buttocks, then took a deep breath and pressed herself back against me, lying against me with a soft sigh. I put one arm under and wrapped it around her, cupping one of her small, hard breasts and feeling it as I put my other hand on her soft stomach, holding her to me as I buried my face in her hair. The sweet, pungent scent of her hair and young body filled my nostrils, and my cock began swelling to an erection as it pressed against her firm, smooth buttocks. I squeezed her breast gently, moving my fingers over it, feeling its resilient firmness and her large, jutting nipple. I let my other hand slide slowly down her soft, flat belly to the clutch of thin hair between her thighs. She stiffened, pressing her thighs together, then forced herself to relax and parted her thighs slightly. I combed my fingers through the soft, short hair, moving the tips of them further and further down on her pussy, and she spread her thighs further apart, sliding one of her legs over mine. Her vulva was small and soft under the downy hair, and I stroked it gently, toying with it. I moved my hand further down, stroking her thighs, and slowly dragged the tips of my fingers up the inside of her thigh toward her pussy. She sighed, and a shiver of sensation raced through her with a quiver as my fingers touched her small pussy again. I parted her vulva with my fingers and touched her clitoris, and she trembled all over as she sighed again, pressing herself harder against me.
I stroked her clitoris with the tip of my finger, and it tightened into a small, hard nub under my caresses. Her breathing became deeper and more rapid, and she murmured wordlessly as she twitched, pressing herself harder and harder against me. I raised myself on one elbow, turning her onto her back, and shrugged the covers down with my shoulder. Her eyes were closed, her lips were pressed tightly together, and her face was flushed. I nibbled at her soft throat with my lips, then moved them down toward her breasts, letting my tongue flick from side to side on her skin. She whimpered deep in her throat as my lips moved around on one of her breasts, softly pinching her skin. I touched her nipple with the tip of my tongue, and she jerked all over, moaning softly. Her nipple stiffened and protruded out from her breast as I trailed my tongue around it, then I let it slide between my lips as I gently sucked it. Her small hand groped hesitantly down my belly as I sucked her breast. It touched my cock, and her fingers moved along it, touching and feeling it inquisitively. I began sucking her breast harder, flicking the tip of my tongue back and forth across her nipple, and she moaned louder as she wrapped her fingers around my cock.
She rapidly became aroused as I stroked her clitoris and sucked her breast. It was a new sensation for her; for her, sex had consisted of being a passive vessel for brute, unthinking lust, and her small body began writhing under my caresses as I titillated her. She griped my cock harder and began squirming over to face me, tugging at my cock and spreading her legs further apart. " ... now...." she murmured, her voice strained and shaking. " ... in me now ... want ... want it inside me...."
"Not yet," I said, cupping my hand over her pussy and massaging it gently. "Not yet, honey. Open your eyes and look at me."
Her lids flicked up, and she looked into my eyes. A raging, overwhelming of raw, undiluted lust churned inside me, a ravening desire to leap on her and jam my cock into her pussy, but I gripped myself, steeling myself against the reaction her beauty generated within me. Her massive blue eyes looked up into mine, and she drew in a long, shuddering breath. "You want to, too, don't you?"
"Yes, biit I want you to like it, Mary Jo, so we're going to do it slow and easy."
"But I want you now-I want you to put it in me....
Her voice trailed off into another murmur as I covered her lips with mine. She opened her mouth wide, thrusting her tongue out at mine, and I pressed her tongue back into her mouth with mine, filling her mouth and gorging it with my tongue as I thrust the tip of it to the back of her throat. She tightened her lips around my tongue, and I slowly moved my head up and down, fucking her in the mouth with my tongue. Her sweet breath was warm against my face as she panted through her nose, holding her lips in a tight circle as I slid my tongue in and out. She smiled up at me, her lips and chin damp with saliva, as I raised my head and looked down at her again. "That's what you're going to do here, isn't it?" she asked, touching my hand cupping her pussy. "You're going to put your thing in there and slide it in and out."
"I'm going to put my cock in your pussy and fuck you. Say it."
"You're going to put your big, long, hard cock in my pussy and fuck me with it. And I want you to. I want you to now. I want you to put your cock in my pussy and fuck me with it right now."
I raised myself, moving toward her, and she eagerly parted her legs and wriggled her small ass under me as the covers fell away from me. I looked down at her, at the slender woman-child body on the bed avidly waiting for me to spear my cock into her, and I had to grip myself under a firm control again so I wouldn't hurt her. She spread her legs wide apart and held her small pussy up toward me as I knelt between her thighs, parting her pussy with my fingers and guiding the head of my cock toward her channel. She panted through her parted lips and looked down between her breasts as she put her feet against my thighs and raised her pussy higher for me. I put the tip of my cock in the lips of her pussy and moved it around in a circular motion to spread her pussy open, and she suddenly lurched her small ass up at me, taking the head of my cock into herself. I gasped, and every muscle in my body became taut and hard from the sensation in her hot, tight pussy around the head of my cock, and she closed her eyes tightly together as she opened her mouth wide, groaning with the sensation of my entering her.
"Put more of it in, darling," she sighed. "I want more of it."
I rocked my hips, working the head of my cock in and out of her, and I held her small ass up with one hand to keep my cock pointed straight into her. She moaned and trembled as the swollen, shiny head of my cock slid in and out of the tight lips of her pussy, then her pussy began to moisten and relax around my cock. I began taking slightly longer strokes, easing more of it into her, and she responded, her small ass bobbing up and down as she eagerly met my cock with her pussy. It inched into her until half of it was sliding in and out of her belly, then I cupped her buttocks in my hands and held her thighs apart as I undulated my hips more rapidly, fucking her with a rhythmic pace. She dug at the bedclothes with her fingers, bracing herself and thrusting up at me, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. I held her small ass up with one hand again as I touched her clitoris with my finger, and her small body began undulating in hard, driving throes which began at her shoulders and travelled down through her to her hips. "Ooohhhhhh, do that ... do that more ... that's good ... that way...."
I stroked her clitoris in rhythm with my cock sliding in and out of her, and the sensations began to mount up within her, battering at her and driving her toward a climax. "....so good...." she moaned in a quavering voice. "That's so ... it's so good ... it's so ... stop, darling ... it's too ... I can't stand ... it's too ... oh, God, stop, darling ... please stop ... please ... OH, GOD, I CAN'T STAND IT ... CAN'T STAND IT ... OH, GOD ... GOD! GOD! AAAAAGGGGGHHHHH-HHHHH...."
She screamed, tossing her head from side to side as her small body launched into the convulsive throes of a full, vaginal climax. I seized her thighs and held them wide apart as I slammed my cock into her up to my balls, then began pumping it rapidly in and out, driving her on through the orgasm. She wailed and shrieked as she writhed on the bed, her small body covered by a thin sheen of sweat and her face drawn and contorted by sensation, then she was over the edge and careening down the slope of emotion. I fell forward on top of her, holding her to me and pillowing her face against my shoulder, with my cock still buried deep in her small body. She gasped and labored for breath, still tossing her head from side to side as she struggled to work her way back out of the numb blindness of the shattering orgasm. The first sobs were quiet, hesitant coughs as her mind and body continued to puzzle with the onslaught which had swept over them, groping for an outlet. Then she began crying with hard, shuddering sobs, shaking and trembling as the tears coursed down her face. She clung to me, her tears dampening my chest and her fingernails biting into my back.
It lasted for a couple of minutes, then her sobs slowly diminished into hiccoughs as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands and pushed her hair back. "What was-what's wrong-" she broke off, sighing, then looked up at me, her eyes large and liquid and her cheeks stained with tears. "What happened, Bob? What was it?"
"You had a climax, honey. It'll be that way every time with us."
She sighed deeply again and put her face against my chest. "I felt for a moment as though it was going to kill me, then everything seemed to break loose inside me. For a moment I felt so good that-well, just really good. Then I felt awful and I started crying ... it'll always be that way?"
"More or less, depending on how you feel. Sometimes better, sometimes not as good."
She started to say something else, then she suddenly became conscious of my cock buried in her pussy. She moved her hips from side to side and blinked. "It's still hard. You haven't...."
"No, I haven't, but I'm going to now." I pulled my cock out of her pussy as I pushed myself up, getting off her.
"What do you want me to do?"
I knelt between her legs, looking down at her, and felt her thighs, running my hands back and forth along their firm, smooth surface. "Roll over on your stomach, then get up on your hands and knees, honey."
She nodded, smiling timidly, and rolled over, raising her small ass on her knees. I got up and crouched behind her, the tip of my cock touching her smoothly curved buttocks, and put my hands on the delicate curve where her waist met her hips. "Let your back sag down, honey."
She pulled her hair to one side and looked back at me over her shoulder as she curved her back, and I groped for her small pussy with my fingers and the head of my cock. She spread her legs wider apart, curving her back deeper, then held herself absolutely still as I eased the head of my cock into her pussy. She hissed through her teeth as it slid into her, and my muscles quivered with the sensation of the head of my cock penetrating her again. I eased more of it into her, then I cupped her pelvic bones in my hands as I began rocking my hips back and forth, dog fucking her. My cock slid into her with a few strokes, and I began fucking her with long, hard strokes, reveling in the warm glow of sensation which roared through me. The sight of her slender body crouching obediently on the bed in front of me made the sensation much more acute, and the semen began to knot up within me, swelling larger and larger.
Long minutes passed as I dog fucked her, my breath coming in hoarse gasps as sweat began to form on my chest and shoulders. She watched me over her shoulder, her large, blue eyes soft with gratification that she was satisfying me. The first tendrils of an approaching orgasm began to build up within me, and I clamped a firm control over it to defer it for as long as possible. The ecstatic sensations and sight of the beautiful woman-child in front of me gnawed at my control, and the ballooning pressure became massive, making me grind my teeth together in the agony of containing it. She suddenly began wriggling her small ass from side to side. "Go ahead and let it out, darling. Let it out into me, darling-don't hold it back, just let it out," she whispered.
It was too much for me, and my control abruptly collapsed. I uttered a hoarse groan as I felt it snap loose, then I gripped her, digging my fingers into her soft flesh, and I lifted her knees all the way off the bed as I undulated my hips in a wild, mad rhythm, jamming my cock into her as deeply as it would go as the hot, thick sperm gushed out into her. I closed my eyes and let the shattering sensations seize me as I pumped the come deep into her belly, my cock spurting a stream of it each time I speared it into her, and she uttered a soft, glad cry as she relaxed her body, letting me grip her and pour my come into her. I fell over on the bed, still holding her as my hips twitched and the last drops of come squeezed out into her pussy.
Her small, gentle hands on my body woke me.
She was kneeling on the bed by my side, still naked, and sponging my cock and balls with a washcloth. I looked at her, then cupped her small buttocks with my hand, feeling them. Her head snapped around, then she smiled. "How do you feel?"
"I'm OK. More importantly, how do you feel?" She blushed and smiled timidly, looking away. "I'm OK."
"What time is it?"
"About two. They'll be back in about an hour."
"That's long enough. Come here."
She looked at me again, then tossed the washcloth to one side as she smiled broadly, creeping into my arms.
CHAPTER NINE
It worked out better than I expected. Despite what Teresa had said, I expected some jealousy and friction between her and Mary Jo, but they seemed to get along better than my most optimistic expectations. They had also apparently worked out some kind of system between them to take care of me. When I came home at night and took my shower, one of them would be casually poking around in the bedroom when I went in to put on my clothes. The other one would be in the kitchenette, fixing dinner and watching the children in the living room, and it would always be thirty or forty-five minutes until dinner would be ready. The inevitable would take place, then we would eat dinner and watch TV. At bedtime, the other one would always be in bed, waiting for me.
The old lady from upstairs spent a lot of time with the children, playing with them and helping them with their school work. She apparently perceived the arrangement between all of us and accepted it with the calm aplomb which seemed to be her attitude toward most things. Teresa still did the household shopping, and I gave her enough money to buy new clothes, school supplies, and toys for all of them. That made everyone happy, including me because it quieted things down quite a bit. Then the old lady started hinting about how hard it was to get up and down the stairs to see the children, how Teresa and Mary Jo needed someone to help them with the children all the time, and a few other gambits designed to get her into the unused bedroom in our apartment. Both Teresa and Mary Jo liked her, and both of them gave me plenty of pillow talk about letting her move in, and when the old lady finally came right out and asked me I agreed to let her. That made seven of us in the apartment, including Teresa's baby, but it was an unusually large apartment and having the old lady there all the time seemed to keep the kids quieter.
Among the other toys Teresa bought was a couple of sets of poster paints, because the kids seemed to be particularly fond of drawing and painting. The old lady helped them with it, and I'd noticed that she seemed to be talented in drawing the things when I watched her. I didn't know just how talented she was until she got out a painting she'd been working on and put it on the table to finish it. It was a riot of colors, with a series of mind-boggling geometrical designs radiating from the center to the sides. The kids clustered around the table as she set out the paints, then she began painting the last corner of the thick square of card stock with slow, careful strokes.
"That's pretty good, Granny," I said, looking over her shoulder.
She took the brush away from the surface of the board and slowly turned her head, looking up at me. "Pretty good, he says," she said dryly. "I'll have you know it's damn good, son." She looked back down at the board and began painting again. "It's also what got me thrown out of the University of Alabama."
"Painting like that?"
She grunted and nodded. "I was before my time."
"When was that?"
"Nineteen twenty-two."
"And they threw you out of art class for painting that way?"
She glanced up at me and looked down again. "Not class. I was an art instructor."
I raised my eyebrows and looked at the painting again, and a knock came at the door. Teresa walked to the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and opened it. It was a short, pudgy man I had seen before; a resident of the sixth or seventh floor. He was in pants, undershirt, and house slippers, with his suspenders hanging around his waist. "Could I talk to you out in the hall, Mr. Fowler?"
"Talk man. We don't keep any secrets here."
"It's something you might not want the kids to hear about."
I went out into the hallway and left the door standing open. He cleared his throat nervously, glancing around. "Well, I don't exactly know how to start...."
"Just begin. I'll let you know if you started wrong."
"Well, it's those people upstairs-"
"Making noise?"
"Well, yes-"
"Have you been up to see them about it?"
"Well, no-"
"Then go see them, and come and tell me if they don't quiet down. If they don't, I'll go up and listen to see if I think it's too loud. If I think it is, then I'll tell them about it."
"Well, it's not only the noise. They're homosexuals, you know, and-"
"And what?"
"Well, they're rolling around on the floor, fighting, screaming, cussing, and everything. Usually it's not too bad, but last night four more came up there to live and they've done nothing but have a party since then."
"How many's up there?"
"Oh, eight or nine, I suppose. It varies from time to time, but there's always four or five of them-"
"What apartment?"
"I'm on the sixth floor in C, and they're directly over me."
I stuck my head in the door and looked at Teresa. "I'll be back in a few minutes." She nodded, and I pulled the door closed, glancing at the man. "Come on."
It was surprising that someone hadn't been bitching at me about it before, because the entire hallway on the seventh floor was a bedlam from the noise coming from apartment C. There was screaming, laughing, cursing, a radio playing too loud, and a solid drumming on the floor which sounded like bare feet being stamped in time to the music. The man with me trailed further and further behind as I walked down the hall. I beat on the door with my fist, waited for a moment, then beat on it harder, making it rattle in its frame. The doorknob rattled, then it opened four or five inches, stopping at the end of a chain. A man looked through the crack at me; his face broke into a smile. "Hello, cutie, did you come to join the party?"
"No, I came to get some quiet going," I growled, backing away from the door then lunging at it with my shoulder.
The chain ripped loose from the door frame, and the man was knocked backwards as the door slammed into him. I recovered my balance in the doorway and looked around. Two men were lying on the couch and sucking each other's cocks, one was bent over an easy chair and sucking another man's cock while a third man stabbed him in the ass, and there were various other postures among the others, as well as two or three who were lying on mattresses and pallets in the corners, apparently exhausted and asleep. The blaring music was coming from an expensive modular stereo set on the kitchen table, and I walked across the room, pushing my way through them, and picked it up. The speakers emitted a squealing noise as I lifted it, then I slammed it to the floor and the speakers fell silent.
They looked startled, scared, and surprised. Then one of them pushed himself up from a mattress against the wall and started walking toward me, and the atmosphere in the room changed to anger and resentment. The one moving toward me was a large, well-muscled man and a couple of the others weren't pissants; it didn't look too good. I snatched up a chair and slammed it to the floor, then snatched up a leg and shook it loose from the rest of the chair. The one walking toward me hesitated, glancing around to see if he was going to get any help, but I didn't wait. I jumped the few feet of distance between us and jammed the end of the stick into his gut, then brought it around in an underhand slap when he bent over, smacking it into his mouth and nose, and throwing him back across the room with blood bursting from his nose and lips. There was a flash of motion on the edge of my vision to my right, and I wheeled; one of them was climbing to his feet, but I brought the club down across his back in a hard, solid blow.
I glanced around again; most of them had taken the hint and were beginning to struggle rapidly into their clothes. "What about our things?" one of them asked from across the room. "You're going to let us gather up our things, aren't you?"
"They'll be waiting for you troublemakers downstairs," I replied, walking across the room to the windows. I opened the window over the alley and dragged the speakers across the floor by the wires, throwing them out. They made a hollow crashing sound as they hit the center of the alley, seven floors below. A couple of them raced out the door and down the hall, half dressed, and others stumbled toward the door as they continued to pull their clothes on. I picked up the broken stereo from the floor and jabbed at a couple of them with the stick. "Don't forget them," I said, motioning toward the ones I'd hit and who were lying addled on the floor, "or you'll be picking them up in the alley, too."
I'd show them to disturb the whole building. I dumped the stereo out the window and went to the kitchen for the dishes. There was a plastic drainboard beside the sink which I used to stack all the dishes and pans on, then I tossed it out the window and went into the bedroom. There were suitcases, boxes, and closets full of the wildly patterned clothes, and I began dragging as many of them as I could handle toward the open window in the living room. I suddenly remembered the man who had come up the stairs with me; he could help.
They jumped out of my way as I walked toward the door and looked out into the hall. The man had left, and the two or three doors which were open with people peeking out slammed closed as I looked around. Then I saw a woman at the end of the hallway, walking toward me; I blinked at her in the dim light, then recognized her. It was the woman from the third floor who'd given me a blow job for quieting down the drunk in the next apartment. I struggled, trying to remember her name, then recalled it; it was Clara.
"Hi," she chuckled as she approached me. "Uncle Bob said he was going to tell you about all the noise, and I thought you'd do something about like this-oops," she finished, jumping back out of the way as someone raced between us.
"Uncle Bob? He's the guy who came downstairs? Where'd the fuck did he go?"
She laughed, and her brilliantly white teeth flashed between her lips as she tossed her head back. "Uncle Bob's a rabbit, like most of the people in this place. He split."
"Well, how about coming in here and giving me a hand then?"
"Sure," she said, nodding. She walked into the living room and looked around. "What were they doing, anyway, besides making all that noise?" she asked with curiosity.
"A couple of them were lying on the couch and sucking each other's cocks, two or three of them were assfucking, and first one thing then another. Come on and I'll show you what I need." She followed me to the bedroom doors and looked in as I shoved them open. "I need to get all that shit thrown out the window," I said, indicating the clothes and other personal belongings.
"OK, if that's what you want, then let's do it," she said, picking up a suitcase and lugging it toward the window.
The last few of them made their break as we walked back and forth between the window and the bedrooms, throwing the things out. The apartment was suddenly quiet, with only the sounds of our footsteps and murmurs of effort as we heaved the things out. She shoved the door closed as she passed it, and it slammed with a hollow boom as she went for another load. Her gown had come open in the front as she carried the things, and she was wearing baby doll pajamas under it. It hadn't been very long since I'd unloaded in Mary Jo and I knew that Teresa's pussy was waiting for me a couple of hours hence, but the confrontation had stimulated me, the sight of her smooth thighs and her breasts jiggling resiliently under the filmy pajamas was captivating, and she had a companionable, eager-to-please attitude. I thought about it as I snatched up the last few clothes from the floor of one of the bedrooms and walked toward the window with them.
"You say one of them was jamming another one in the ass, Bob?" Clara called from the bedroom.
"Yeah," I replied, walking back toward the bedroom. "A couple of them were."
"Well, how were they doing it?"
I paused as I started to pass the bedroom door. "What?" I asked, glancing inside, then I did a double take. Her gown was on the floor, and she was shrugging out of her pajamas. She smiled at me as she walked to the bed, her satin-smooth limbs gleaming in the dim light, and she got on the bed on her hands and knees.
"How were they doing it, Bob? Like this?" She smiled at me as she crouched on the edge of the bed on her hands and knees, then slowly lowered her head to her forearms with her smoothly rounded bottom sticking invitingly up into the air.
"Yeah, something like that," I said, my mouth suddenly dry and my voice hoarse.
"Well, come and show me what else they were doing. I mean, one of them must have been like I am, but what was the other one doing? Come and show me, Bob-I've never seen them doing it."
I walked toward her, my cock swelling to an erection and making the front of my pants bulge out as I looked at her slender body crouched on the edge of the bed in wanton invitation. Her breasts dangled resiliently downward toward the bedspread, and her eyes and teeth gleamed softly as she smiled at me. I put my hand on the back of her thigh, feeling it, and I could detect a responsive quiver in her body as she shivered. I slid my hand up her thigh and touched her vulva, and she hissed in through her teeth as her eyes slowly closed and opened again. "But they don't have one like this, do they?" she asked softly, wriggling her ass slowly from side to side.
"No," I grunted, unfastening my belt and unzipping my pants.
"But don't let that keep you from showing me what they were doing, Bob. There's two places on me where you can put it, and you can have either one you want."
I grunted again as my pants fell around my ankles and my cock stood straight out in front of me in a hard, springy erection. She spread her legs further apart and let her back sag in a deep curve as I moved closer to her, spreading her vulva apart with my fingers and searching for her pussy with the head of my cock. The tip of my cock slid between the lips of her pussy, and I pressed on it gently, sliding it into her. "Oooooohhhhhh," she moaned. "If that's how it feels for them, I can see why they do it."
I ran my hands over her smooth, firm buttocks as I pumped my hips, slowly pressing my cock into her, and the ecstatic sensation of her hot, damp pussy enveloping my cock made every muscle in my body tremble. I pushed more of it into her, savoring the sensation of her body absorbing mine, and I leaned over her, groping for her breasts with one hand. She moved backwards and raised her head from her forearms so I could reach her breasts, and she began twisting her hips slowly from side to side as I pumped my cock into her and felt her. I cupped both of her breasts, squeezing them and caressing them, then I straightened back up, dragging my hands back along her body and feeling her. I had almost all of my cock sinking into her, and I cupped her pelvis bones in my hands, pressing forward with my cock until it was completely embedded in her. She uttered a long, moaning sigh as she lowered her head to her forearms again and let her back sag in a deep curve, and I began dog fucking her with long, hard strokes of my cock.
Her pussy was feverishly hot, and I could feel the head of my cock penetrating far into her body as I pumped it in and out of her. She was a quick come, and she rapidly zoomed through three or four quick orgasms as she crouched in front of me. Each one made her tremble and shake all over as she wriggled her smooth ass madly and pressed herself back against me, then a few strokes of my cock later another orgasm would be rapidly building up within her.-Fucking her lacked the unique novelty of a doll-like Mary Jo, but it was comfortable and satisfying, entirely uncomplicated. She had wanted my cock in her belly and was taking it in with the pleasure and gratification of an adult woman who doesn't expect the earth to turn over because her pussy has been penetrated. I undulated my hips and watched my cock sliding in and out between her buttocks as I felt her thighs and hips, and I could feel the climax inexorably closing in on me. I didn't want to delay the orgasm for so long that I would be shot for the night, but yet it was peculiarly satisfying to fuck her.
"Are you about to come, darling?" she whispered, her voice trembling as I thrust my cock in and out of her.
"Not yet," I gasped hoarsely. "This is good-I want to enjoy it."
"Don't wait too long," she warned me in a whisper. "Don't keep it back too long, baby. I'll be there any time you want me, but I don't want to get that Mexican chick mad at me-I don't want her to find out."
"She won't," I grunted, looking down at my thick cock sliding into her again.
"You can have it the other way if you want it-you should be slick enough to get it in now."
I stopped fucking her for a moment, pressing my cock into her until my balls were touching her pussy, and I put my hands around her waist, feeling her. I was aching to come in her, yet reluctant to end it. "OK," I said, nodding. "Lie down on the bed."
My cock slipped out of her as she moved forward, stretching out on the bed. I took her waist between my hands and pulled her back until her legs were dangling over the edge, with her smooth ass sticking up in the air, then I parted her hips and lowered myself toward her, searching for her anus with the tip of my cock. She involuntarily contracted as the tip of my cock touched her tiny asshole, then she shrugged impatiently, relaxing again. "Sorry, darling," she whispered, reaching behind herself for my cock. "Here-let me help you."
She wrapped her fingers around my cock and twisted her hips from side to side as she guided it toward her asshole, and I held myself over her with my hands on each side of her. My cock touched her anus, and I lowered my weight on it. The head of my cock popped into her tight asshole, and every muscle in my body trembled. "Not too fast," she whispered, hissing through her teeth. "Not too ... that's right ... a little more ... now just a little bit more, darling ... more ... now start ... that's right ... in and out ... a little harder ... faster ... faster ... little more ... faster ... AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!"
She suddenly thrust her ass back, at me and half of my cock sank into her as she broke into a full, vaginal orgasm. Her asshole was incredibly tight, making it feel as though my cock was being skinned as I fucked her, and the thread of pain which shot through me made the sensation much more acute. I lay forward on top of her and slid my hands under her to cup her breasts as I pumped my hips, sliding my cock in and out of her ass, and she writhed under me in the wild throes of her climax. The sensation of her slender body in the convulsions of an orgasm and the feel of my cock being tightly contained in her nether channel was too much, and my climax burst through. My thick cock sank almost all the way into her on the lubrication of my come as it spurted out, and the dizzying waves of sensation washed over me as I undulated on top of her, pumping my come into her. We careened to the exhilarating heights of pleasure together, then the shattering orgasm passed and my movements became slower, more languid. She squeezed her buttocks together and moved them from side to side as she sucked the last of the come from my cock with her tight asshole, then she turned her head and kissed me damply on the lips. "Get up and let's get you washed, darling," she whispered regretfully. "If Teresa came through that door and found us like this, I'd shit."
A couple of hours later I was lying with my head cradled against Teresa's breasts, gasping and panting after another orgasm. She combed her fingers through my hair and patted the side of my face as she kissed me with soft, quick pecks of her lips, then she suddenly giggled. "Mary Jo must have given you a good work-over before dinner tonight. You didn't come enough to make a mouse pregnant"
I nodded, still struggling to catch my breath. "Yeah, she did."
CHAPTER TEN
"You were right about the windshield wiper."
I looked down at the blonde in the driver's seat as I wiped the windshield, trying to place her; I didn't remember her or anything about a windshield wiper, but that was no reason to piss her off. Besides, she was a good-looking head. "Is that right?"
She nodded. "Yes, it came off before I got home that night. And you know what I had to do?"
There were tiny smears of windshield sealant around the edges of the chrome trim. "You had to get a new windshield."
"Yes, but how did you know?"
"I'm smart, that's how."
She giggled, and I walked around the front of the car to wipe the other side of the windshield. Suddenly I remembered her; she'd had rotted wiper blades and I'd told her that they should be replaced, but she'd said her husband had told her to get only gas. There was a tantalizing stretch of smoothly contoured thigh showing below the hem of the miniskirt, and I wiped the side windows to get a better look. To call her a good looking head was an understatement; she was a knockout. A natural peaches and cream complexion below the short, pleasantly mussed blonde ringlets, large blue eyes setting off an unusually attractive face, and a full, well developed body. About five two and a hundred and fifteen or so, and somewhere between twenty-five and thirty. And most of all, a hint of something more than casual, polite friendliness in her smile.
I went around to the rear of the car and topped off the tank, then replaced the nozzle and leaned down at her window again. "Open the hood latch, and I'll check the oil."
She smiled wryly and shrugged. "He told me to get only gasoline-sorry."
"Let me check it anyway. If it's really low, it'll be on the house. I don't want you to throw a rod and get stuck on the freeway somewhere."
She wrinkled her nose at me and reached for the safety catch release. "You're nice."
I checked the oil; it was well within safety limits, less than a quart low. "It's OK, but you'd better watch it after another four or five hundred miles," I said, taking the credit card from her.
She nodded pleasantly, giving me the breathtaking smile again. "That'll be a while-I don't drive more than forty or fifty miles a week. But thanks for checking it for me."
"My pleasure. Is everything else all right?"
She started to shake her head, hesitated, then nodded. "Yes-yes, everything's OK."
It was a slow morning, I had all the shop work done, and it was pleasant talking to her; pleasantly stimulating. "Come on-what's wrong?"
"Well, it isn't anything really...."
"If it bothers you, it bothers me. What is it?"
"Well, sometimes I have to jiggle the gear shift to get it to go into drive, and the accelerator is acting sort of funny. It sticks and won't go down until I press hard on it, then it goes too far. I almost ran into another car down in Macy's parking lot because of it."
Simmons was on the other side of town and wouldn't be back for at least another hour. He wouldn't know that I'd used the shop for freebee work, and he probably wouldn't mind if he found out; he kidded me a lot about tomcatting around, and he seemed to get a sort of amused vicarious pleasure from the frequent response I got from chicks. Besides which, business was unusually slow and it was customer relations to give out freebees when they didn't cost anything. "That sounds sort of serious to me, honey-dangerous, anyway. I'll tell you what, just pull it into the shop and let me take a look at it. There won't be any charge."
"No charge? But-"
"No charge and no buts. Just pull it into the shop."
She cranked it and threw it into drive as I stepped back, and I went to fill out the slip for the gas sale as she drove around the end of the pump island to the shop at the side of the station. The credit card was in her husband's name, Robert Johnson, and they lived on Elm Drive in Riverdale. I ran it through the embosser and took it into the shop for her to sign; her name was Gloria.
"You certainly have a good customer relations program, but I don't see how you stay in business," she said, handing the clipboard back to me.
I jerked her copy out and handed it to her, smiling. "That's simple-we don't have many blondes through here who look like you, and we have a special customer relations program for them. I'm in charge of it, by the way."
She blushed as she laughed, slightly flustered but eating it up. I put the clipboard on the bench and kicked the lift arms in position, then I threw the air control lever over and glanced at her out of the corners of my eyes as I waited for the lift to raise the car. Her situation was common; a few years of marriage and maybe a kid or two, and the doldrums had set in. Gloria was the epitome of the young, attractive suburban housewife. Her husband forgot her birthday and didn't tell her often enough that he loved her, and morning bad breath, evening ill temper, head colds during winter, and sex every Friday night had taken all the magic out of it for her. Her wry smile over not being able to buy anything but gasoline probably had hours of screaming, raging fights over money behind it, walls had been built up around the things they couldn't discuss, and she felt used, mistreated, misunderstood. On the other hand, he had to worry about house payments, insurance payments, income tax, a grouchy boss, the next promotion, and money for winter clothes. He was the one who geared himself to swallow gall and face slights with calm indifference, the one who laid awake nights figuring out approaches for the next project, the one who would suffer a heart attack at about forty or so and might or might not die. He had his treadmill and burdens, which she couldn't understand. But fuck him. Everyone had problems, and while it wasn't fair for him to be slugging away to support his family while I was sniffing around his homework, I wasn't worried about fair. If I could manage to get into her box, I'd do my moralizing later.
The bell clanged as a car pulled up to the pumps. "Are you in a hurry?" I asked her.
She shook her head quickly, smiling. "No, I'm not, as...."
"Bob."
"...Bob, but it wouldn't make any difference if I were. I know that you have to take care of selling gasoline first."
"If you were in a hurry, it would make a difference-I'd just tell them to go somewhere else for gas. Now are you sure you're not in a hurry?"
Her smile was less polite and warmer as she shook her head again. "No, I'm not, Bob. Go ahead."
It was a two dollars worth, one of the last of the big spenders, a guy with a fifty cent cigar and a Cadillac who probably had holes in his shorts. I dumped the gas in, then swiped at the windshield, and went back in the shop. A connecting link in the accelerator linkage was bent, probably from a rock thrown up by a tire or from driving over something, and it was binding. I locked a couple of pairs of vise grips into place and straightened it, then I lubricated it and looked at the shift linkage.
"Will it take any new parts or anything?"
I glanced at her. "I don't think so. You shouldn't get under the car-you'll get grease in your hair."
"It needs shampooing anyway."
"Everyone's hair should need shampooing, then, and it doesn't-it smells clean, like it was shampooed yesterday or this morning."
"Do you like the way it smells?"
"Offhand, I'd say that it would take me at least twenty-five years to find anything about you that I didn't like and then it wouldn't be anything important"
She blushed again, and her smile was slightly strained; she sensed that I was about to get serious. "Your wife wouldn't like you talking to another woman like that."
"I don't talk to just any woman like that, and I don't have a wife. Your husband wouldn't like it, but that doesn't make any difference to me-he's not here."
She looked down at the floor, her eyes dropping from mine, and I felt the shift linkage; a cotter pin had fallen out of a connecting joint, and it was loose. I went to the bench and got a pair of needle nose pliers and a cotter pin, and went back under the car. A few pieces of greasy mud fell from the frame as I twisted the legs of the cotter pin open, and a couple of them fell in her hair. "Something fell in your hair, Gloria-turn around."
She moved closer to me, turning, and I flicked it out of her hair. She was standing less than a foot from me, and she slowly turned her head, looking up into my eyes. Her eyes were soft, vulnerable. I bent down and touched my lips to hers, and her mouth opened under mine, soft, warm, and damp. The tip of her small tongue brushed my lips, and I touched the edges of her teeth with my tongue, savoring the fresh, sweet taste of her saliva in my mouth. The warm breath from her nostrils fanned my face as she sighed, then she pulled away from me and our lips parted with a damp sound, She looked down at the floor, her lips and chin trembling. I looked at her for a moment, debating whether or not to push it, then decided against it. "OK, it's fixed now, Gloria."
She slowly shook her head as she walked from under the car. "No, it was all right before, but now it's broken. Everything's all torn up now."
The car slowly settled toward the floor, and she stood by the bench still looking at the floor, her hands clenched together and a pale, white line around her lips. The lift bottomed on the floor with a solid, metallic sound, and I opened the door for her. She slid in under the wheel without looking at me and started the engine, then she looked up at me through the open window. "It's just not that easy, Bob. I mean, I've never ... I haven't ... I don't go around letting men pick me up. I'm not that kind of-"
She broke off as I put my elbows on the window, looking at her and shaking my head. "You don't have to tell me that, Gloria. I don't think you're an easy woman. Believe me, if I thought that, it wouldn't have happened and you wouldn't have to tell me to start with. I'm sort of funny myself, funny for a guy, at least. It sounds silly for a man to say he's not easy in the same sense that a woman can say it, but I am. It's just that I get it on with you, Gloria, I really do."
"But it wouldn't be right, Bob, it just wouldn't be-"
"I don't know too much about right and wrong, Gloria. I know that life can get in a hell of a rut sometimes, and everything can get a muddy sort of black inside for people. I also know that once in a million times two people can meet who are just sort of meant for each other. I mean it doesn't make a lot of difference whether they're married or not, but something seems to click between them. I know that you're there and I'm here, and the rest of the cold, miserable, heartless world is out there. I know that it would be good between us-it would be something delicate and precious, something that would make the muddy black a little easier to bear. But, on the other hand, I don't want to hurt you, Gloria. I don't want you to do something that would make you feel bad later. I'll tell you whatH;hink about it, Gloria. Maybe something else will go wrong with your car and maybe you'll want to call me. Maybe you won't want to call me, and I'll understand that, too. OK?"
She smiled faintly, nodding. "All right, Bob. I'll think about it."
I put my finger under her chin, raising her lips, and leaned forward, kissing her again. She turned her head sidewards, opening her mouth wide, and her tongue was like a small, wriggling thing with a life of its own as it slid between my lips. I covered her lips with mine, sucking at them and at her tongue, then slid my tongue into her mouth. She sucked at it, then opened her mouth wider, pressing her face toward mine, and my tongue slid to the back of her throat. She pressed it between her tongue and the roof of the mouth, caressing it and sucking it, then our lips slowly parted.
Her face was flushed with arousal and her mouth was damp and shiny with saliva as she jerked the car in gear and slowly backed out of the shop. I walked to the door, watching her drive the car slowly into the street. Her small hand was a flicker of motion as she drove away, and I lifted my hand, returning her wave.
Both Teresa and Mary Jo had started their periods that day, and I was in a hell of a shape that night We usually went to bed before ten and got up about five or so, and I tossed and turned until almost eleven. Then Teresa got out of bed and brought Mary Jo back, and they lay beside me, one of them stroking the inside of my thighs and squeezing my balls while the other one massaged my cock. I lay on my back and felt their breasts while they caressed me, gradually working me up to a climax, and I finally went off. They clutched me, both of them with their small hands wringing the come from my cock, and I drifted into a sound, dreamless sleep, still cupping their breasts.
There was the usual bedlam at breakfast, last minute homework, and getting ready to go to school. The old woman was helping Mary Jo put the last touches on a poster she had to hand in for her class work, and I suddenly noticed how many posters the old woman had hung around the living room as decorations. There was an aquarian shop not far from the gas station, one which I passed on the way to a greasy spoon where I occasionally ate lunch, and they had a selection of posters in the display window, along with the usual hair shirts from Mexico, brass junk from India, incense burners from Japan, and rattan garbage from the Pacific. I was still doing all right as far as money went, but the grocery bill had zoomed to astronomical amounts and the kids still needed more clothes, so I looked at the posters in the living room, thinking.
I wrapped three of the posters in paper bags to protect them from the wind and rain, and I took them with me when I left for work. When I got there, I stored them safely away in the back of the shop on a shelf, and when I went out for lunch I left my greasy overall on, combed my hair down over my face, and took the posters with me, trotting along the sidewalk and protecting them from the rain with my body.
The clerk was a spotty faced youth of eighteen or nineteen who nervously alternated between digging at his crotch and fingering a large cyst behind his ear. I silently put the posters on the counter in front of him, and his face brightened up as I pulled the paper bags off them. "Say, these are all right, man. These are like from now. I mean, they're together." He leaned over them, plucking at his cyst. The old woman had jokingly put "Granny" on them as a signature, and he looked at the scrawl. "Who's Granny, man?"
"That's me, man, who the fuck do you think it is?"
"Well, they're more together than anything else we have. And hand-painted, too. I can't make you a deal on them, though. You'll have to wait until Clarissa comes in."
"You wait until she comes in-I've got to split."
"Yeah, but how much do you want for them, man?"
"I want some bread for grass, man, dig? I mean, if you and this Clarissa chick like give me a break, then we'll work out, dig? I mean, like there's lots of places where I can shed my shit to the straights for bread, and I'm not hung up. You take yours, but don't get like too hungry on me and take all of the action, man. Dig?"
I spat it out like a machine gun, and he hung up halfway through, somewhat resentful that I had outrapped him. He struggled for a moment, wringing at his balls spastically, then he cleared his throat. "You mean you want us to get what we can and just give you your share?"
"You're together, man," I breathed, turning toward the door. I walked toward it, sliding one foot and hopping on the other. "Check it later, man."
I stuffed my hair back under my hat when I got outside, then I went to lunch and took a different route back to the gas station. There were two or three cars parked in the area beside the shop when I got back, and I went in to check the work orders on them. Simmons was at the small desk in the corner of the office, glumly going over the books. "Any calls?"
He shook his head. "Naw, your public's leaving you alone for a change."
"I might be getting a call from a chick-be sure and get her number if she calls."
He chuckled. "You fucking cockster. Does your foreskin ever get healed up?"
"Not if I can help it-besides, pussy juice is the best thing in the world for a raw cock." I counted the work orders and looked at the line of cars through the plate glass window. "There's a work order missing."
He shook his head. "The Dodge isn't in for work. I have a mechanic's lien against it, and the police brought it to me while you were getting your piece of ass or whatever you have for lunch."
I looked at it; it was a van. "Vans are the thing on the West Coast."
"Well, why don't you take it to the West Coast and sell it, then hitch hike back with the money? I'll split it with you."
"Is it yours, then?"
"After next Monday it is. Why? Do you want it?"
I shrugged. "All I have to drive right now is these number tens on the bottom of my feet. They're about all I can afford, though."
"I'll make you a deal on it if you want it, Bob. I have fifty dollars in it, and you can have it for that. After Monday, that is."
"What kind of shape is it in?"
"It's a piece of shit. It needs shocks and a valve job, the transmission is noisy, and the upholstery is fucked up. But for fifty dollars you won't find anything better. It's worth fifty, and then some."
I nodded. "AD right, if the papers clear on it, how about holding it for me?"
He shrugged. "Sure."
It was another slow afternoon, and Gloria didn't call. I thought about her, how her lips had felt between mine, and how her thighs had looked with her skirt hiked halfway up them, and I had another head of steam worked up by the time I got home that evening. There was a small fracas up on the fifth floor, and I dropped in on Clara on the way back down. Her children were in bed and her old man was still on the night shift, so it went fine. I bent her over an easy chair in the living room and dog fucked her, and the relief was glorious as my come spurted into her and she twisted her hips from side to side, whimpering and moaning. Then she took me into the bathroom to wash my cock and balls, and we started playing again. It ended up with her sitting on the edge of the bathtub while I fucked her in the face, but she was frightened of one of the children catching us and she was also more terrified of Teresa than she was hungry for my cock. So I wound up going back downstairs with another load built up, feeling so frustrated I could shit. Teresa got Mary Jo again and went into the same act as the night before, and I thought I would shit when I finally went off. Mary Jo immediately fell into a deep sleep, and Teresa grunted suspiciously as she fingered the small blob of come which had oozed out of my cock. "That wasn't hardly worth all the trouble. You didn't leave any of it somewhere else today, did you?"
"When any of it goes somewhere, you know about it. Maybe my balls are drying up."
"If I catch you fucking around, they'll be more than dried up-they'll be fucking cut off. You have me, and you have Mary Jo. That's more than enough pussy for any man. And when we're having our periods like we are now, we'll still get you off. We'd give you a blow job, but neither of us are big enough to get your cock in our mouth, so we'll do the next best thing. But don't you ever fuck around, Bob."
"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep."
I could see the gleam of her white teeth in the darkness as her head snapped around, and her small, sharp teeth dug painfully into my shoulder. I hissed with pain, trying to shake her loose, then I put my hand against her chest and twisted my shoulder from between her teeth. "You little shit. I ought to get out of bed and whip your ass. It feels like you bit my fucking shoulder off."
"I'll do more than that if I catch you fucking around-I'll cut your goddamned balls-"
"I know, I know, you'll cut my goddamned balls off. Well, I'm not fucking around, and why don' you wait until I am fucking around until you star getting so shitty about it?"
"You're not fucking around?"
"Christ, no, I'm not fucking around."
"Well, why didn't you say that to start with and I wouldn't have bitten you," she murmured cuddling against me, patting my thigh. "I don't want to make you mad at me, but I can't stand the thought of you sticking your cock into some other woman. Your shoulder doesn't hurt too bad, does it?"
"I'll probably catch rabies. Go the fuck to sleep."
"I'm sorry," she whispered contritely, kissing the side of my face and cupping my cock and balls in her hand. "I'll play with you and make you feel good while you go to sleep ... Mary Jo!"
"Umm?" Mary Jo murmured sleepily.
"Stroke his legs-let's make him feel good while he goes to sleep."
Mary Jo yawned, turning toward me, and began stroking the tips of her fingers gently up and down the inside of my thighs while Teresa squeezed and fondled my balls. The pain in my shoulder diminished, and I put my arms around them, fondling their breasts. Mary Jo took her hand away from my thighs to pull her nightgown open and slide my hand onto her naked breast, then she began caressing the inside of my thighs again, leaning her head on my shoulder and pressing herself to me. I drifted off to sleep, and I dreamed that I was fucking Gloria on a merry-go-round, dog fucking her and looking worriedly over my shoulder as Teresa raced around following the merry-go-round, waving a large knife and shouting that she was going to cut off my balls. I woke with a start, my forehead covered with cold sweat. Both Mary Jo and Teresa were breathing heavily, sound asleep, and Teresa still had her hand on my balls. I slowly twisted my hips to one side to move her hand, and she murmured sleepily as she began squeezing and caressing them again. She shifted, settling her head on my shoulder, and sighed deeply as she put one of the legs over mine as she spread her small fingers wider, squeezing my cock and balls. Her hand went limp again, and I drifted back off to sleep.
It was about two o'clock the next afternoon and I was in the office getting another case of oil to put on the pump island when the telephone rang. Simmons had been off sick all morning and I'd worked through lunch, and I'd also just about given up on Gloria, putting her down as a dissatisfied suburban housewife who'd wanted a little flirting so she could close her eyes and think about it when her husband's cock was in her. Then I was suddenly hearing her voice on the other end of the line, and the feeling I'd experienced when I looked at her firm thighs and pert ass returned even stronger, a surge of lust so powerful that I almost got a hardon just talking with her on the telephone.
"Bob?"
"Hi, Gloria."
"How are you?"
"A lot better, now that you've called. The station manager's about to have me locked up, the way I've been jumping for the telephone every time it rings."
She giggled, a husky rattle which sent shivers up my spine. "Ah ... Frank, my husband, that is, is ... ah, out of town...."
"Company business?"
"Ah ... yes, he'll be gone tonight ... left this morning, and he'll be ... ah, returning tomorrow morning...."
"Seven o'clock?"
The silence stretched out for several seconds, then she cleared her throat. "Bob, I don't really know why I called you. I mean, I'm not just leading you on ... I mean, I'm not intentionally leading you on or anything, but I don't think-"
"Seven o'clock, Gloria. OK?"
She sighed. "Bob...."
"And I won't bring a car-I'll take the bus or a taxi. Leave the front light off. OK?"
"Well...."
"See you at seven, Gloria." She sighed again. "All right, Bob," she said quietly. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, honey."
Teresa bought the story about working late, about having to go out on the east freeway and help bring in a broken-down wrecker that didn't even sound too good to me, and she fixed me a quick dinner while I sat in the living room and leafed through the newspaper, trying to act tired and disgusted at having to work late. I ate, went back to the gas station and helped Simmons for a little while, then walked down to the bus stop and caught a downtown bus. I changed at Central and got on a bus to Riverdale, and it was about seven thirty when I located the address. It was deliberate, because fifteen minutes of bad timing can make the difference between having a cup of coffee and a goodnight kiss or having a piece of ass. It was a nice suburban house, brick, with a two-car garage, something between forty and sixty thousand, and the front porch light was off. The thirty minutes had worked, because I could see her through the small panes of frosted glass in the front door as she paced back and forth in the entrance foyer. I tapped lightly on the door with my knuckle, the light in the foyer snapped off, and the door silently opened.
Her body was firm, smooth, and warm under the filmy fabric of the negligee. Her lips were hot and demanding, sucking and tugging at mine, and her saliva tasted sweet and minty in my mouth. She had showered only minutes before, because there were traces of moisture in the roots of her short blonde hair, and her fragrant, alluring perfume had that extra sharp pungency of when it has just been freshened. I could feel her heart racing behind the full breasts soft-stabbing me through my coat, and her breath came in quick, broken rushes through her nostrils as she clung to me, her arms tight around my neck.
Our lips parted, and we pressed ourselves against each other, gasping for breath. I bent down and lifted her. "We can talk later and I can tell you what held me up," I panted hoarsely, "but I can't wait, honey. I'm dying."
She put her lips against my neck, nuzzling me. "It's up the stairs, and the second door to the left."
She was small and light in my arms, and our tongues battled damply between our lips as I climbed the stairway, carrying her. Her arms were tightly clenched around my neck, and her breath fanned my cheek warmly as she lay in my arms and sucked at my lips with hers, her fingers clutching at the hair at the back of my head. She pushed the doorway open; it was a bedroom, softly illuminated with a small lamp on the nightstand, and the covers on the massive, king-size bed had been turned back.
She released her arms from around my neck and silently looked up at me as I laid her on the edge of the bed and stepped back, unbuttoning my coat. I tossed my coat across a chair, along with my jacket, and started unbuttoning my shirt. She gathered up the negligee in her hands, then arched her body and raised her hips off the bed to pull it further upward. She was wearing bikini panties and a bra under the negligee, and my fingers unfastening my clothes were suddenly stiff, numb, and awkward as she sat up, shrugging out of the negligee and tossing it to one side. I looked down at her beautiful body, at the soft sheen of her satin-smooth skin, as she turned onto her side, reaching behind herself to unfasten her bra. She was lithe and slender, with firm, jutting breasts tipped with large, protruding nipples. Her belly was flat and smooth, and the delicately shaped curve of her tiny waist out to her hips was a graceful, symmetrical line. Her thighs were firm, smooth, and sturdy, well-shaped and proportional. I struggled with my belt as she doubled up on the bed, pushing her panties down, and I pushed my pants, shorts, and socks off my feet as she rolled over to the center of the bed, naked.
There had been no sound in the room other than my hoarse panting as I looked down at her and undressed. She uttered a small, quiet sigh of satisfaction as I took her in my arms and thrust my tongue to the back of her throat, then she began wriggling toward me, clutching at my cock and spreading her legs apart. I slid my hand down and cupped her pussy with my hand, keeping my cock away from her pussy, and there was a small, interrogative sound in her throat. I moved my mouth downward, opening it wide over her breast, then sucking her breast between my lips as I flicked the tip of my tongue back and forth across it. She moaned, pressing herself against me and fondling my cock with her small fingers. She gradually became more aroused as I slowly sucked her breast, and her hands on my cock were more demanding as she writhed against me, edging my cock toward her pussy. I continued massaging her pussy in my hand as I moved further down her beautiful body, and she curled around me as I sucked at her navel and stabbed the tip of my tongue into it, stiffening it and driving it into the tiny opening. Then her movements became almost frantic as I moved my lips further down, nibbling at the edge of the small bun of crisp hair between her thighs. She sat up, tugging at my shoulders. "Darling, you don't have to-I mean, I'm ready and I want you-you don't have to do that...."
"I want to," I murmured, my lips moving over the small triangle of hair. "I want to make you in every way I can think of, and I want to make you feel good."
I put my hands behind her thighs, spreading them apart and pulling her toward me, and she lay down facing me, fondling my cock, its swollen, shiny head inches from her beautiful face. Her body jerked and writhed as I nibbled at the skin on the inside of her thighs, pulling at it with my lips and biting it gently between my teeth, and she uttered a deep, shuddering moan as I bent my head down and covered her pussy with my mouth. The warm, pungent taste of her body was in my mouth as I sucked at her pussy and slid my tongue back and forth across it, and she pressed her lips to the base of my cock, her fingers clutching at it and stroking it. I slid the tip of my tongue into the crack in her vulva, and she lurched toward me, sliding her thighs around my head as she began kissing my cock. Her clitoris sprang erect as the tip of my tongue touched it, and I flicked the tip of my tongue back and forth across it.
Her body undulated rapidly as she thrust her pussy at my mouth and tightened her thighs around my head, and a warm, damp feeling enveloped my cock as she took the head of my cock into her mouth. She pressed it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, sucking at it and moving her head rapidly back and forth. I raised my head from her pussy, spreading her thighs apart again and flicking the tip of my tongue up and down the insides of them, then I dipped my head down, stabbing at her pussy with my tongue. The tip of my tongue slid into her pussy, and I began moving my head up and down, fucking her with my tongue. She gave a muffled cry as she thrust her mouth at my cock, taking it in until the head of it was at the back of her throat, gagging her.
She suddenly pulled away from me and sat up again, tugging at my shoulders. "Please do it now, darling," she begged. "I want it in me now...."
I raised my head and looked up at her; her beautiful face was tense and flushed with arousal, her hair mussed and her damp, shining lips parted as she panted breathlessly. I turned on the bed, taking her in my arms, and she opened her mouth wide, sucking greedily at my tongue as she wriggled under me. Her hands grasped at my cock as she guided it and thrust herself at me, then the head of it slipped into her and she quivered all over, moaning deep in her throat. I continued to hold her and fondle her as I kissed her, and she undulated her body with hard, driving thrusts, taking more of my cock into her pussy and fucking herself with it. I put my hands on her buttocks and slowly rolled over onto my back, keeping my cock in her, and she put her hands on my chest, raising herself to a sitting position on my cock.
Her breathing was a quick, gasping panting between her open lips, and her eyes were tightly closed as she poised herself over my cock, half of it in her body and her hips moving rapidly up and down as she took the rest of it in with quick lunges. Her thighs were on each side of my body, and her resilient breasts were jiggling up and down with her movements. I looked up at her, feeling and caressing her thighs as I watched the rest of my cock sink into her body. She gave a small cry as she pressed herself downward, her firm buttocks settling on my thighs, with all of my cock embedded in her body.
She paused for a moment, moving her hips from side to side with small, quick movements, then she began raising herself up and pressing herself back down on my cock, and I slid one of my fingers into the crack in her vulva, caressing her clitoris. Her movements became more urgent, and she bounced madly up and down on my cock, her head thrown back and gasping moans coming from her throat. Her breathing became more labored, her muscles trembled with effort, and a thin film of sweat began to shine softly on her body as she fucked herself on my cock. Long moments passed as she slid up and down on it, striving to bring herself to a climax, and she finally collapsed on me, tugging at my shoulders and moaning. " ... can't do it fast enough," she whimpered, "please get on top of me ... get on me and fuck me ... make me come, darling ... fuck me and make me come, dar-ling...."
I rolled over onto her, cupping her buttocks and sliding my cock in and out of her with long, hard thrusts. She immediately responded, planting her feet against the bed and undulating against me as a long, ragged cry came from her open mouth. "Aaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhh ... that's it ... that's better ... that's ... I'm going to ... I'm coming ... COMING ... I'M COMING ... I'M ... AAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
She exploded into a fury of motion, which dragged out for long minutes as a powerful, long-lasting climax gripped her, an indication that she'd not had a climax for a long time, and I pounded my cock into her, forcing her on through it. Then I was suddenly being torn apart by the agonizing pressure within me, the knot of ballooning semen bursting me with agony. She was still in the wrenching grips of her climax and I couldn't stop fucking her, and I ground my teeth together with the effort of controlling it, keeping it down. She began wriggling her firm hips from side to side, her lithe body writhing under me, and it was too much. The first seep of semen escaped from me, and I gripped her thighs in my hands as I pushed myself up, holding her thighs apart and erupting into her. " ... COME IN ME" she wailed, "FEEL IT NOW ... ooohhhhh, so good ... hot and thick in me ... all the way in me, darling ... push it all the way in me ... fill me with it...." I held her legs high in the air as I speared my spurting cock into her, the ecstatic agony of a wrenching orgasm gripping me, her glad cries echoing in my ears.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Teresa and Mary Jo were in bed together, their arms around each other, and I was so tired that I didn't even think anything of it when I crawled into bed, pushing in between them. Teresa seemed to be slightly defensive the next morning and Mary Jo was busier than usual with her school work, and I was still so numb and tired that I didn't connect it in my mind until later in the morning, when I was at work. Business was slow, and I had time to think about it as I took care of the few grease jobs and oil changes we had in, but it still seemed only slightly unusual, nothing particularly odd. All three of us had been sleeping together the past few days and there was nothing untoward about their being in bed together if I didn't happen to be there or they expected me to be in later.
There were a couple of customers in the aquarian shop when I entered, but the clerk left them and came toward me, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, man, where've you been? Clarissa's been wanting to talk to you, man, but there was no way we could get in touch-"
"Stop fingering the bod, man," I said, shaking his hand off my arm, which happened to be the same hand he used to scratch his balls. "Like have you got something for me, man?"
"Dig it, man," he replied, waving toward the cash register. "Come on, and I'll lay it on you."
The customers glanced at me and moved to one side for me. One of them was a young chick, maybe eighteen or twenty, cute and with a nice body, and the other two were fat, puffy women in their late forties or early fifties, well-dressed, dissatisfied, looking for something to occupy their time since their children had grown up and their husbands' cocks had grown useless as their bank accounts had swelled larger. "This is our artist," the clerk said to them in general, nodding toward me as he took an envelope out of the register and handed it to me. The two older women murmured with interest and the chick gave me another glance as I opened the envelope. There was a hundred and twenty dollars in the envelope, along with a receipt; I almost shit.
"You're the artist who painted those absolutely divine posters, aren't you?" one of the older women gushed, moving toward and engulfing me in a cloud of perfume and antiseptic mouth wash. "I was going to buy one of them today, but they were all gone. I was so disappointed, because I really wanted one of them ... ah...."
I ignored her, scribbling "Granny" on the receipt and handing it back to the clerk. "He's Granny," the clerk said to her, then turned to me. "That's enough, isn't it? I mean, you'll be bringing in some more, won't you?"
"Straight on, man," I replied, shoving the money in my pocket. "Check it later-maybe tomorrow."
The woman with the mouth snatched at my arm as I turned toward the door. "I really wanted to talk to you about your technique-it's very unusual."
I hesitated, then pulled my sleeve out of her grasp. "I dip a brush in paint, then tie it to my cock and hold it against the board while I beat off."
The chick's face turned a bright red and she almost exploded into laughter as she turned away, choking, and the two older women looked at me in open-mouthed horror. The clerk ran around the counter and was calming them, murmuring to them about artistic temperament as I walked out of the store.
I went by a variety store and picked up a large selection of poster paints, a handful of brushes, and a package of poster board on the way home that night. Teresa and Mary Jo were cooking, and Granny was sitting with the other children and watching TV when I came in. Teresa trotted out of the kitchenette and closed the door behind me, looking at the bag and package of poster paper. "What do you have there?"
"Stuff for Granny to make more posters," I said, walking into the living room and shoving the things over on the coffee table to make room for the bag. I put the package of poster board down on the old woman's lap. "There you are, Granny. I found out today that those posters are worth money, so get busy and make us some more."
The old woman's mouth dropped open as I took the bills out of my pocket and waved them. "You got that for some of the posters?" she asked, gasping.
"Yeah, and there's more where that came from. Take all the posters down off the walls and wrap them up, and I'll take them in tomorrow. Meanwhile, you can get started on another bunch."
She nodded, sliding the package of poster board onto the couch, then peering in the bag at the paints and looking around at the posters on the wall. "What kind do you want? I mean, I don't know what to do...."
"Shit, do what you've been doing. I don't know anything about them, and I guess they're all worth something. Don't make any of them the same, though."
She nodded vacantly, looking around at the posters on the wall again, and I followed Teresa into the hallway as she went into the bathroom, turning on the shower faucets. I went into the bedroom and undressed, then crossed the hall into the bathroom and got in the shower. My muscles were stiff and sore from fatigue and the lack of sleep the night before, and the hot water felt good. I lathered and rinsed, then stood under the water for several minutes, letting it drum against my skin. Then I thought of how Teresa had looked, the line of her sturdy thighs and small, shapely body in the sweater and short skirt, and I mentally counted the days since she had started her period. It would be over. A warm tingling enveloped me, and my cock lengthened into a resilient, pendulous tube of flesh as I dried myself.
Teresa was sitting in the chair by the bed, looking thoughtfully at the floor. She stood up with a smile and started pulling her sweater off over her head as I walked into the room. "Say, that's really good about selling the posters, isn't it, Bob? You're really smart-you really are. You know all kinds of ways to make money."
I dropped the towel on the floor and crawled onto the bed, lying down and looking at her as she undressed. "Money isn't the only thing I know how to make-hurry up."
She giggled, stepping out of her skirt and tossing it onto the chair, then she put her hands behind her back and unfastened her bra. I looked at her jutting, resilient breasts as she shrugged out of the bra and tossed it to one side, and my cock slowly began to get harder as the numbly hungry feeling spread over me. She bent over, stepping out of her panties, then crawled onto the bed, flowing into my arms. I seized her, pulling her to me, and my cock brushed against her smooth, firm thighs as she wriggled against me, opening her mouth wide for my tongue. She sucked at my tongue, bobbing her head back and forth to fuck herself in the mouth with it as her fingers combed through my hair, then she pulled her mouth away from mine and nuzzled at my neck. "Bob?"
"Umm?" I grunted, cupping her breasts and feeling her pussy.
"Bob, did you think it was funny that Mary Jo and I were in bed last night?"
"Huh uh."
"Bob-Bob, listen to me."
I raised my head from her breasts and looked at her as she lay on her back, looking up at me. "What is it, honey?"
"You didn't think anything at all? Nothing at all?"
"Hell, what do you mean? What are you trying to say?"
Her eyes moved away from mine, and she sighed. "Well...."
"Teresa, do you and Mary Jo get it on together?"
She blushed and turned her face away, clearing her throat. "Bob, I'm not a goddamned dyke."
"Yes, I know that. But you two get it on together?"
She glanced at me, then dropped her eyes again as she toyed with the hair on my chest. "It's just that ... well, she's like a little doll. She's so pretty, and her big, blue eyes ... got in bed last night, waiting for you, then we were suddenly holding each other and kissing ... don't know, I just don't know." She glanced up at me again. "We haven't even been able to talk to each other today, and I know she's worried sick about what you'd think. I am too, as far as that goes...."
I laughed, pulling her to me again. "Don't be silly, Teresa. If you two can get it on together, then I'm glad for you. I am as long as you don't cut me out, anyway."
She put her hands against my chest and pushed herself away from me, looking up at me. "Are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious, god damn it. What the hell's the big deal? You're both beautiful women, I'm sure as hell attracted to both of you, and I think it's great if you can get it on together. Just as long as you don't cut me out, like I said."
"Oh, we'd never do that!" she exclaimed, shaking her head rapidly. "You know what we both think of you ... but you don't think it's funny or anything? I mean, it doesn't disgust you, or...."
"Christ no." I laughed. "Have at it. Now will you stop beating your gums together so I can get off? It's been days since we've screwed, and-"
"Oh, geez," she squealed, throwing herself against me. "Mary Jo was so worried, and so was I, and she'll be so happy when I tell her-" She suddenly broke off, pressing her lips against mine and opening them wide as she thrust her tongue into my mouth. I tasted and sucked at her small tongue, feeling it move around inside my mouth, then I thrust my tongue into her mouth, forcing it to the back of her throat. She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my cock, and it quickly swelled to a full, throbbing erection as she expertly stroked it. She took her mouth away from mine and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs apart and tugging at my cock. "Do you want it this way, or...."
"Get on your hands and knees."
She rolled over on her stomach, then doubled her slender, lithe body up as she raised her buttocks in the air and rested her head on the pillow. She tossed her hair out of the way and looked back at me over her shoulder as she reached back to take my cock and guide it into her pussy. "She'll be so happy," she murmured, wriggling her hips from side to side as she positioned herself and guided my cock. "We were both so worried."
I grunted, ignoring what she was saying as I cupped her pelvic bones in my hands and looked down at my cock resting between her buttocks, then I lurched forward, and the head of my cock slid into her with a warm, delicious feeling. She sighed, closing her eyes, and I fondled her buttocks as I began pumping my cock into her tight pussy.
Teresa and Mary Jo were whispering quietly in the kitchenette when I came back out, and Mary Jo's massive blue eyes were warm and liquid as she looked at me. Granny refused to leave the poster she was painting on the coffee table, and Mary Jo took her a plate of food which she ate in quick bites, still painting. She moved to the kitchen table after dinner was over, and everyone else gathered in the living room, watching TV. Teresa and Mary Jo sat by each other on the couch, and their occasional glances and touches would have been meaningless to anyone unaware of their new relationship.
Granny had finished one poster and was working on another one when we went to bed. I fucked Mary Jo while Teresa lay by us, squeezing my balls, and massaging Mary Jo's breasts, murmuring to both of us. She reached an orgasm when I did, and I collapsed in a state of semiconsciousness, dimly aware of-what was going on around me. There was a warm, damp cloth sponging my cock and balls, Teresa and Mary Jo were in the bathroom together, taking a shower, then they came back to bed and lay together, kissing and caressing. Later, they lay on either side of me, and their small hands and gentle touches put me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
There were seven posters ready for me to take in the next morning, five which had been taken down from the walls and two which the old woman had painted the night before. They were wrapped in paper bags which had been torn apart, and I trotted through the drizzle of rain and soft snow with them under my arm, hurrying to get on the bus. Simmons was grumpy, worried about how slow the business had been the past couple of days, but his mood improved when we got in three major tune-ups and five lubes and oil changes. He preferred working the customers himself because he was better at jawing them into new wiper blades, oil additives, new air filters, and the rest of the shit he stocked, so I remained in the shop all morning, clearing the work orders which had accumulated.
When I took the posters in, the clerk tried to talk me into staying until Clarissa returned, then when that didn't work he tried to set up an appointment for a meeting between us. I kept it loose and easy and remained evasive, telling him that I was satisfied with the arrangement on the other posters. Then he tried to get my address out of me, following me to the door with a pad and a pencil as he tugged at my sleeve, and I got away without giving it to him; I was sure that exploding the myth of my doing the painting would do me no good, and I was afraid that Clarissa-whoever in hell she was-would try to steal the old woman from me if she met her.
There was a chick sitting morosely in the station when I returned. She was tall and slender, maybe as old as twenty-five, with a pretty face. But her face was drawn with anxiety, and she was chewing her lower lip worriedly. "Her car stalled a few blocks away," Simmons explained, jerking his head toward her. "Go see if you can figure out what's wrong with it."
He didn't want me to use a customer's car and his wife had his car, so we walked. The snow and rain had turned into a slippery slush underfoot, and she slipped a couple of times on her elevated shoes as we hurried along the sidewalk. She smiled at me gratefully as I put my arm around her and caught her. Her raincoat was cold, wet, and slippery, but her body felt warm and firm under it "I'm about to be late for work," she murmured, explaining her hurry. "My boss is a bastard, and I'm afraid he'll fire me if I'm late."
"Well, we'll see if we can get it started for you."
She nodded, pressing her lips together and looking down at the sidewalk. The hood of her raincoat framed her oval face, with tiny wisps of damp brunette hair showing around the edges. She was tall, about five eight or so, and the loose raincoat completely hid her figure. But she appeared to be slender and lithe, with well-formed calves and long, graceful hands.
It was nosed into the curb in a no-parking zone, and the driver of a delivery van was double parked behind it, looking irately around. He marched angrily toward us as she unlocked the door and I stood in front of it, waiting for her to unlatch the hood. "All right, get that piece of shit out of here so I can get unloaded," he snarled. "It's not supposed to be there-"
"Watch your language around the lady," I snapped back. "It's stalled, and I'll get it out of here as soon as I can-"
"I'll call the police and get a fucking wrecker down here to move it, god damn it. This is no fucking place to park a stalled car-"
His voice choked off as I dug my fingers into the pit of his belly, not hard enough to hurt him but just enough to draw his attention. He swung at me wildly, his face going slack, and I seized his wrist, spinning him around and snapping his arm into a hammerlock. I pushed his wrist higher, walking him toward his van, then I snatched the door open and lifted him by his arm and the seat of his pants, throwing him inside. He tumbled across the seat, and I kicked the door closed, turning back to the car.
The engine of the van started and it moved jerkily away as I looked under the hood of the car. The electrical system was completely out, and I looked at the battery. Massive piles of electrolysis corrosion had built up on top of the terminals. I took the small tool kit out of my pocket and started digging it away with a screwdriver.
"What's the problem?"
I glanced up; it was a policeman. The van was back, and the driver was looking over the policeman's shoulder. "The battery leads are corroded and aren't making contact. I'll have it started in a minute if the battery's not too weak."
"OK, that takes care of the car, now what about this guy? He says you shoved him around."
"He was cussing at the lady," I said, nodding toward the girl as she got out of the car. "I told him it wasn't her fault and that I'd have it started as soon as I could, but-"
"That's a fucking lie," the driver snarled. "He hit me-"
"Be quiet and get back in your truck," the policeman snapped, turning toward him. "But-"
"But nothing. Get back in your truck!"
The driver turned away, brushing past the girl, and walked toward his truck, mumbling to himself. The policeman looked at me again. "How about it?"
"He hit Bob first," the girl said, plucking at the policeman's sleeve. "Bob was trying to reason with him-"
"Knock it off," I said to her, shaking my head, then I looked at the policeman. "He was mad and raising hell, which I can understand but which I couldn't do anything about. When he wouldn't be quiet and started hard-timing the chick, I made him get back in his van."
"But you didn't hit him?"
"No."
"The chick says he. hit you first. That means that you did hit him."
I smiled at him, shaking my head. "She doesn't have her story straight yet. In a minute she'll remember that I didn't hit him, and she'd swear to it in court."
The policeman laughed and nodded. "OK. Say you'll have it started in a minute?"
I dug at a terminal and tapped the lead back into place. "Well, I'll know in a minute whether I can or not."
"If you can't, I'll have to give the young lady a ticket."
"Well, let's hope the battery's not too bad off, then," I said, tapping the other lead into place on the terminal. I put the tools back in the canvas bag, rolled it up, and shoved it back in my pocket as I slammed the hood down. "Wait a minute," I said to the chick as she started to get in under the wheel. "I'll start it-if there's anything in this battery, I don't want to waste it by flooding the engine."
I pumped the accelerator once, then held it down as I turned the key. The engine turned over agonizingly slow, popped, coughed, then fired and ran. I raced it, nodding toward the other side of the front seat as I glanced at the chick. "Get in." She trotted around the car and I looked at the policeman. "OK?"
He nodded. "OK." He stood back and held up his hand to block the traffic as he waved me away from the curb, and I gunned the engine, slipping the clutch and letting it move away.
The chick sighed with relief as I shifted gears and turned on the windshield wipers. "This has been one miserable day-turn right at the next intersection, and it's four blocks further, on the right."
"OK, I'll take the car back to the station and charge the battery. Are you late?"
She glanced at her watch and shook her head. "No, I should just about make it. I really appreciate all this. You knew exactly what was wrong with it, and you sure know how to handle people."
"The secret is not to handle them. What's your name?"
"Kathy-Kathy Robbins. Can you bring the car to me, or will I have to come and get it?"
"I can bring it to you if you like." .
"I hate to be so much trouble, but I'd sure appreciate it if you would. Once I get changed for work I don't like to change again until I get home, and it's turned so cold now, hasn't it?"
The comment had more meaning when she told me to pull over to the curb, pointing, and I saw that she worked in a massage parlor. I steered the car to the curb, braking, and she gathered up her purse. "Hey, thanks," she said, smiling at me and opening the door.
"No sweat. What time do you want me to bring the car back?"
"Well, I don't get off until two o'clock. Any time before that."
I nodded emphatically. "It'll be before that."
She laughed and let the door swing open. "Thanks again. 'Bye."
I nodded. "Later."
I drove the car back to the station and put the charger on the battery, then checked out the rest of the ignition; everything was in more or less poor condition because of neglect, but it didn't have to have anything in order to run and it was in no worse shape than the rest of the car. Simmons was working on the lubes and oil changes, and I went into the shop to help him. "Business is getting really slow lately, Bob," he said as I came in.
"Are you telling me that you're going to have to lay me off?"
"Not yet, but if this keeps up I might have to. Sorry."
I shrugged. "If you have to, you have to. You were worried that I'd split on you, and it looks like the job is leaving instead."
"Yeah, I guess you convinced me that an itinerant isn't necessarily a bum. Not all itinerants, anyway. Did you make a work order on that Plymouth?"
"No, all it needs is a battery charge. Why don't you let her have it free? Maybe she'll start buying her gas here."
"Gas," he snorted, laughing and shaking his head. "You fucking cockster. OK, go ahead and let her have it, as long as we're only using the charger. I'm not so hard up for a couple of dollars that I'd cheat you out of a chance for some pussy because of it."
The day dragged on, and the five o'clock rush only amounted to a few cars. I cleaned up and emptied the garbage cans, locked the shop, then went to the toilet behind the station to change clothes and wash up. Simmons waved to me through the plate glass window as I went to the Plymouth at the side of the station.
It was beginning to snow heavily, and I drove carefully as I worked my way through the rush hour traffic toward the massage parlor. There were a couple of fender benders on the way, and once I stopped in a traffic snarl to get out and help unlock a couple of bumpers as the drivers of the cars, both women, screamed and cursed at each other while a weary policeman tried to get them back in their cars. I got in the Plymouth and pulled back out into the stream of traffic as the policeman lost his temper and began writing both of them a ticket, then they both started screaming at him.
I parked the Plymouth in front of the massage parlor and went in. It was warm inside the entrance foyer, almost too warm. It was a small room, expensively decorated with heavy drapes and large, overstuffed couches, and the lighting was dim. A drape at one side of the foyer stirred, and a woman entered, smiling at me. She was an Asian, young and good-looking, and she was barefoot and dressed in a bikini; her body was slick and shiny with some kind of lotion, giving it an earthly, sensuous appearance. "Hi. Like a rub?"
"I'm looking for Kathy."
"I can do anything for you that Kathy can."
"Yeah, but I can do something for Kathy that I can't do for you. I can give her the keys to her car."
She laughed, showing the edges of her small, even teeth, and tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder as she turned back toward the drape. "OK, I'll send her out. I'm Kim, and if you ever want to know what I can do for you, just come in and ask for me. You'll remember my name, won't you?"
"How can I forget, Kim?"
I looked at her small, pert ass in the skimpy bikini as she went back through the drape, and a moment later it stirred again. I knew it was Kathy because I recognized her face, but nothing else was the same. She was wearing filmy, transparent baby doll pajamas, and the only thing she was wearing under them was a pair of bikini panties. Her small, resilient breasts were completely visible through the thin fabric, and her nipples were large, almost covering half of her breasts. She was tall and slender, just shapely enough to not be thin, with long, graceful limbs. Her hair was tied up on top of her head, making the most of her long, slender neck, and she was barefoot. A warm glow spread over me as I looked at her.
"Hi, Bob. Hey, I really appreciate your bringing it to me."
I smiled and handed her the keys. "My pleasure, and I see why you don't like to go out in the cold without changing."
She giggled. "Like it?"
"Like it. All over you I like it."
She turned toward the drape. "Sit down, and I'll go get my purse. How much is it, anyway?"
"It was on the house."
She stopped and turned back. "On the house. Hey, I can't do that to you. You have to make a living too."
I shrugged. "It didn't cost anything but a little effort, so no sweat. Forget it, honey."
She frowned and bit her lip, jangling the keys in her hand, then her face suddenly brightened. "Hey, how about a rub? This has been the slowest day I've ever seen around here, and I can give you one on the house-the boss won't mind. How about it?"
I shrugged and nodded. "Let's do it."
She pulled the drape to one side, revealing a small doorway. "Come on into my parlor, then."
I followed her along a narrow, dimly lit corridor which had doors on each side of it, watching her hips swinging from side to side as her bare feet padded softly on the carpeted floor. There was a sound of conversation and feminine laughter from behind one of the doors, and Kathy glanced at it, shaking her head and smiling at me over her shoulder. "That Kim," she said, opening a door further along the corridor, "she's a character. What did you think of her?"
I followed her into the small room. "She's a character all right."
"Yeah, and I think she and Terri have something going between them-they're always giving each other massages when we're not busy." She waved at a small clothes rack in the corner as she took a towel from a shelf and dropped it on the long, narrow table. "OK, get naked and hang your clothes there. I'll start the shower running for you."
The shower room was at the far end of the corridor, and I could hear the water running as I stepped out of the room with the towel over my shoulder. She was leaning into the shower closet and adjusting the temperature as I entered, and she smiled at me over her shoulder. Watching her and looking at her in the skimpy costume had made my cock lengthen and swell, and it swung resiliently from side to side as I moved. Her eyes involuntarily fell toward it, then her mouth opened slightly as her eyes became riveted on it. The water splashed up her arm to her shoulder, dampening the top of the pajamas, and she jumped back from the shower closet, holding the fabric away from her skin. "Damn!"
"Take it off-I won't mind."
Her smile faded as she looked up at me, and she slowly gathered the pajama top in her fingers then pulled it off over her head. I took her in my arms and held her to me as I bent down, mouthing her breast. Her breath hissed in through her teeth as the tip of my tongue moved over her large nipple, and it suddenly became hard and stiff between my lips. Then she stiffened, trying to pull herself away from me as she patted my head and softly kissed the side of my face. "Hey, stop it darling-we're not supposed to get sexy with the customers, and someone might see us."
I raised my head and looked down into her eyes, still holding her. "I don't see how anyone could keep from getting sexy with you."
"Well, if the boss starts thinking that, I'll be looking for a job," she said, pulling herself out of my arms. She patted my face and turned toward the doorway. "Take your shower, and come on in."
My cock had subsided by the time I showered and dried off, and she was filling a squeeze bottle from a large plastic jug of body lotion as I came back into the room. My cock began stirring again; she was still topless. She smiled at me and patted the table as she walked toward the door. "Hop on there and lie on your stomach."
She slid the latch into place as I stretched out on the table, then she went to the foot of the table, squeezing some of the lotion out on her hands and rubbing them briskly together. Her long, graceful hands felt soothing and relaxing as they began rubbing my foot
"How can anyone keep from getting sexy with you girls the way you're all dressed?"
Her strong hands moved up to the calf of my leg, kneading and wringing my muscles. "Well, in a sense, it's always a sexual experience for a man when a woman gives him a massage. I mean, from the standpoint of being sensual it is. He's naked and she's putting her hands on his body, stroking him, so it's always a sexual experience. I've had men have a climax while I was massaging their feet, for example."
"What if he doesn't? If you rub your hands all over a guy and get him all stormed up, you wouldn't send him back out to face the world with a hardon, would you?"
Her hands reached my thigh. She put more of the lotion on them, then began firmly stroking my thigh from my buttocks to my knee, wrapping her fingers around my thigh and pressing. The tips of her fingers brushed my cock and balls as her hands moved back up. "No," she laughed. "I mean, it's no big deal to give a guy a mainline, is it?"
"Do you let them feel you while you do it?"
"Oh, no, that's going a little too far. Kim does, though. We were talking a while ago, and she was telling me about a customer she had yesterday-she said his finger must have been a foot long."
I grunted with pleasure as her hands moved across my shoulders, pulling the kinks out of my muscles, then she moved to the other side of the table, working back down to my other foot. "What does Terri do?"
"I don't know. I guess it depends on the guy. It does with most of the girls." She finished massaging my other foot and patted my calf. "OK, roll over."
I turned on the table, a numb glow of satisfaction filled me, and my cock had started stiffening again. It lay on my stomach, twitching, as she started moving back up my leg with her hands, then it began raising to a full, throbbing erection as her hands touched my thigh. "I've got to say that you're fixed up better than most guys," she said quietly.
I put my hand on her buttocks, squeezing them gently as I looked up at her. "Are you going to take care of me, honey?"
"If you want me to-do you want me to do it now?"
"Am I just another customer?"
Her hand gently cupped my balls and squeezed them as she shook her head. "No. No, you're not just another customer, Bob. But someone might hear us if I get on the table with you."
"We can be quiet."
"Maybe I can do something else that'll make you feel just as good."
"OK, honey."
She put her fingers in the waistband of the pajama bottom and her panties and smiled at me, pushing them down her legs. She stepped out of them and tossed them to one side as she moved back to the table, reaching for my cock and balls. She cupped my balls in one hand and squeezed them firmly as she wrapped her other hand around my cock, stroking it and bending over it. It swelled to an almost painfully hard erection from the sensation of her hand on it, and she bent lower, softly kissing around the head of it. I groaned with pleasure and every muscle in my body stiffened from the feel of her lips on the head of my cock, and I reached toward her, groping for her. She felt my fingers brush against her side, and she edged closer to me, opening her legs slightly. I combed my fingers through the small bun of crisp hair between her thighs as she stuck her pink tongue out, lapping around the head of my cock, and my body lurched upward as I fondled her vulva between my fingers. She opened her mouth wide, then lowered her head, taking my swollen cock between her lips.
Damp, sticky sounds came from her mouth as her head bobbed up and down, and every muscle in my body was taut from the ecstatic sensations as I watched the beautiful woman sucking my cock. My hand moved frantically over her slim buttocks, then moved back to her pussy, caressing and fondling her. Her hand moved up and down the inside of my thighs, titillating me, then moved back up to cup and squeeze my balls. She forced her head further down until the head of my cock was touching the back of her throat, almost gagging her, and she pressed it firmly between her tongue and the roof of her mouth as she continued fucking herself with it. The sensation of her hot, damp mouth on my cock was heavenly, and it was made more acute by the sight of her naked body and the feel of her satin smooth skin under my hands.
I sat up on the table, taking her in my arms, and she looked up at me, her face flushed and tense with arousal, saliva running from the corners of her mouth and down her chin. "Honey, I've got to get it in you," I whispered. "I've got to come in your pussy."
She nodded, pushing my hair back from my forehead. "All right, but please be quiet, darling. I don't want to get fired."
I sat up on the table as she climbed on it, spreading her long, slender legs wide for me to get between them. I poised myself over her, fumbling with my cock, and she reached down with both hands to guide it in. "Just lie down on me, darling-I'll get it in."
I cupped her buttocks in my hands and she wrapped her long legs around mine as she shifted slightly, guiding my cock with one hand, then she lurched upward with her hips and the head of it slid smoothly into her. She gasped, then sighed deeply. "God, it's so big ... it's so-be careful, darling, please don't hurt me."
"I won't, honey," I whispered tautly as I started bobbing my hips.
I slowly pumped it into her, and she spread her legs wider, turning her pussy up toward me and holding her feet high in the air. "Please make it a quickie, darling," she gasped. "There'll be other times...."
The feel of her hot, tight pussy enveloping my cock was delicious, and I wanted to savor it, make it last for hours. On the other hand, I didn't want to make her lose her job and there would be other times for us. I pumped my cock in and out of her with long, firm strokes, completely relaxing my control and letting the orgasm build and move inexorably forward. She went off, clutching the back of her hand between her teeth and holding her breath to keep from crying out, and it brought me that much closer. I took her thighs between my hands and hunched over her, slamming my cock deep into her slender body as I looked down at her on the table, then the come was a hard, massive knot, aching to get out. I turned it loose, and she pressed her lips together and closed her eyes tightly to keep from crying out again as she felt the hot, thick come bathing her insides. Spurt after spurt erupted from me, and I drove it deep into her body as I ground my teeth together in my effort to keep from making a noise.
She peeked into the corridor, then waved at me as she darted through the door and raced for the shower room. She slammed the door behind us, locked it, then breathed a sigh of relief as she turned toward the shower closet. "Home safe," she chuckled, turning the knobs. She felt the temperature, then nodded and stepped back. "Do you want to go first?"
I cupped her buttocks in my hands and squeezed them. "What do you mean? We're going to shower together."
She giggled, stepping into the shower, and I stepped in behind her, wrapping my arms around her and cupping her damp pussy with my hand as I pressed my limp cock against her firm ass. "Maybe we can get something going here-the water would keep anyone from hearing us."
She shook her head, looking up at me as she patted my cock. "No, we can't darling. But I'll tell you what, come in next Wednesday afternoon. That's always a slow day. I'll be here by myself, and the boss never comes around. I can put out the sign that I'm busy, and we can take our time."
I looked down at her small, oval face, damp and shiny from the shower, and nodded as I lowered my lips toward hers. She put her head against my chest and opened her mouth wide for my tongue.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The papers on the Dodge van cleared early, and Simmons got them on Friday. We finalized our deal on it, and I got him to pick up some parts for it when he made his run to the distributor for parts and supplies for the weekend. I checked it out good and decided to give it a valve job, a rebuilt transmission, shocks, universal joints, and a new muffler and tail pipe, and he got the parts for me at wholesale from the distributor. On Saturday, a day off for me, I drove it into the shop and pulled the heads to have a machine shop do them, then started in on the rest of it. I had it all finished and made it to the machine shop just before closing time to pick up the heads, and parked it in front of the apartment house at eight that night.
The upholstery was still bad, both on the two front seats and on the bench seats along the sides in the rear, but it ran like a sewing machine. We all loaded into it and went to the zoo the next day, and everyone enjoyed the day out. I felt more than ever like a lord of a feudal manor, with Teresa and Mary Jo hanging onto me, the kids darting around us like playful puppies, and the old woman trudging along behind us, occasionally snapping at one of the children who ventured too far.
The skies had cleared, but it was cold and the streets were slick with ice. I drove carefully on the way back, taking the corners slowly because of the unstable, top-heavy feel of the van. There was another van in the next lane for several blocks, and we stopped abreast of each other at a couple of traffic lights. It was a real doll, a West Coast job, with portholes, thirteen-inch-wide oval tires, extra chrome, and several coats of lacquer over a large scene painted on the sides. A real beauty, a surfer's dream. Teresa was in the passenger bucket seat in front, and I called her attention to it. The old woman heaved herself off the bench seat behind me and put her hand on my shoulder, peering through my window, then she sat back down with a sigh.
"Looks like some kids got loose with paint on it."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You're not with it, Granny. That's a West Coast surf van, and all of them are fixed up that way-"
"I know what it is-I've seen them before. I still say it looks like a bunch of kids painted it. The figures are all out of proportion, and the colors aren't harmonious. They didn't try to paint a scene, they just wanted something flashy. Also, the lacquer wasn't put on right-the coats weren't cured and rubbed before the next one was put on. It looks muddy."
"What do you know about painting cars?"
"I don't know anything about cars, but I know about painting. I can paint anything that will stay in one place long enough."
"Could you paint this van up like that one?"
"Sure. Just get me the paint and get it in somewhere where it'll warm up to room temperature. I'll do a better job than that one."
"I could fix up the upholstery, Bob," Teresa added. "I used to work in a trailer factory after school, and I know how to cut and sew upholstery fabric."
"Well, shit, maybe we can make this a family project. If we could get it fixed up, I'd be able to sell it for a hell of a lot more than I paid for it."
"Then we wouldn't have a car," Teresa said. "I don't want to gripe about things, but it's nice to be able to get out now and then, and be able to go somewhere other than the movies."
"I'd get a station wagon or something. This thing is big enough for everyone, but it's like driving a bus. I don't have a surf board to cart around with me, so I'd like something a little easier to drive."
"A station wagon would be nice. When the weather clears, we could go out for picnics and things, couldn't we?"
I grunted, thinking; things were going OK for me and I had a good setup, but I couldn't help remembering the beaches in Florida and the clear, crisp desert air in Nevada.
The old woman began sketching some ideas for a scene to go on the side of the van as soon as we got back to the apartment. She had finished eight more posters and it had been two or three days since I'd checked on the others, so I wrapped the ones she'd finished so I could take them to the store the next day and see if I had any money coming.
Teresa and Mary Jo woke me in the middle of the night, murmuring softly to each other as they kissed. It was warm in the bedroom and they had pushed the covers down, and I looked at them as they lay in a tangle of limbs and small, soft bodies, caressing and feeling each other. The dim illumination of the streetlight coming through the cracked and torn shade on their satin-smooth skin as they writhed on the bed, their hands moving over each other, and despite the fact that I had exploded into Teresa's eager body only a short time before, I felt myself becoming aroused from watching them. Teresa was the dominant partner, as I had thought, and she raised her head and shoulders from the bed as she pushed Mary Jo down on her back. "I'll show you what Bob does to me sometimes," she whispered sibilantly.
Mary Jo giggled softly. "Maybe he does the same thing to me, darling."
"Then you can see if I do it any better."
Teresa's long, dark hair fell over Mary Jo's head and shoulders as she bent down, kissing and sucking Mary Jo's breasts, and the small girl relaxed with a deep sigh of contentment, her hand fondling Teresa's buttocks. Her body tensed and her knees slowly flexed as Teresa's head moved down her body, her lips and tongue moving from side to side. Mary Jo whimpered softly as Teresa's mouth moved from side to side on her small stomach. "Teresa, are you going to ... are you ... will you...."
"Don't be in such a hurry," Teresa giggled, kissing the inside of her thighs. "Take your time."
Mary Jo moaned, spreading her legs further apart and flexing her knees until her heels were pressed against her small ass. "Oh, God, do something for me, Teresa. I'm all ... I'm hot ... I want ... you've made me want to get it off. Bob just took care of you and you're all right, but I'm-"
"Like hell I'm all right. I'm so hot and bothered that I could bite your little pussy off-like this!"
Mary Jo's slender body arched upward and she Uttered a small shriek of shock and surprise as Teresa's mouth closed over her pussy, then she began moaning and writhing as Teresa held her thighs wide apart and moved her head, up and down, sucking her pussy. Teresa pulled her closer, turning her onto her side and pressing her head deep between Mary Jo's thighs, and Mary Jo's small face was twisted and flushed in the dim light. "Oh, that's good, Teresa," she panted in a choking, trembling voice. "That's so good ... just like that ... yes, that's it. . there ... no, back where you ... yes, that's ... oooohhhhhh...."
My cock slowly unfolded and began to stiffen as I watched them. Mary Jo was lying with her arms thrown wide apart, her small, hard breasts jutting up in the air, and Teresa's dark head moved from side to side, with minute, tense motions as she tongued and sucked Mary Jo's pussy. Mary Jo's hands began to move up and down Teresa's thighs, then Teresa slowly parted her thighs as Mary Jo's fingers probed at her pussy. She cupped Teresa's pussy, feeling and fondling it as her other hand continued to move over Teresa's thighs and buttocks, then she curled around, pulling at Teresa's thighs. "Come here, Teresa," she whispered. "I need to ... I want to ... I want to do it to you, too ... I want to taste you...."
Teresa wriggled toward her, and Mary Jo's brown head moved from side to side as she pressed her head between Teresa's thighs. Teresa's body jerked convulsively, then she spread her thighs wider, wrapping them around Mary Jo's head. Mary Jo's small hands cupped Teresa's buttocks, then her head moved slowly up and down as they relaxed on their sides, facing each other in the 69 position.
Several moments passed as they titillated each other with their mouths, and I became more and more aroused from watching them as their movements gained momentum, becoming more forceful and urgent. Their hands moved up and down each other's backs, squeezing and feeling, and their ecstatic murmurs were muffled as they buried their faces between each other's thighs. A thin sheen of sweat began to show on their entwined bodies as their gasps of pleasure became louder, and the bed began to tremble from the movements of their bodies as they writhed against each other. Mary Jo suddenly jerked her head from between Teresa's thighs, sitting up and pulling at Teresa's shoulder. "Wait a minute, Teresa, wait a minute. It's getting too good ... I'm about to ... I want to ... let me get you ready so we can both get off at the same time ... I want both of us to get off together...."
Teresa withdrew her head from between Mary Jo's thighs, sighing and nodding as she patted her buttocks. "All right, Mary Jo, all right. Go ahead and I'll ... I'll slow down on you."
They both buried their faces between each other's thighs again, Mary Jo licking and probing frantically at Teresa's pussy with her tongue. Teresa raised her head again, reaching down to put her hand on the back of Mary Jo's head as she spread her legs wider. "No, stick your tongue ... that's right. . more of it ... deeper ... make it stiffer, like ... that's right, now fuck me with it, fuck me as hard as you can with it."
Mary Jo's small head bobbed back and forth as Teresa held her thighs wide apart and pressed her face between Mary Jo's thighs again. Both of them rapidly began to escalate toward an orgasm. Their bodies were taut and trembling from the sensations racing through them, and they gasped and moaned with pleasure as they writhed together. Their hips began responding, undulating with quick, short movements as they lurched toward each other and their hands moved frantically over each other. Mary Jo uttered a choked cry as her entire body began undulating in waves which began at her shoulders and travelled down to her small ass, and Teresa suddenly rolled her over on her back, seizing Mary Jo's thighs and dragging them wide apart as she hunched her hips, driving her pussy down at Mary Mo's face. The mattress shook as they pounded their bodies together, both of them seized in the grip of a shuddering climax. It began to ebb, and their movements became more languorous, causing shudders to pass through both of them. Teresa finally raised her head, pushing herself up with her hands on either side of Mary Jo's thighs, and she slowly turned. Mary Jo held her arms up to Teresa as she turned around, and they melted together, wrapping their arms around each other and kissing.
I reached over and patted Teresa's small ass. "OK, if you're through with each other, you can take care of me now."
They both jerked, startled, and looked at me open-mouthed. "Were you watching?" Teresa stuttered.
"Yes, and it's got me as hot as hell. Come here." . "Oh, he was watching," Mary Jo whimpered, burying her face in Teresa's hair. "He saw us ... he was looking ... he was...."
Teresa sighed and chuckled softly. "OK, he was watching. Come on, and let's get him off."
"I don't want him to see me," Mary Jo murmured. "I don't want him looking at me ... I'm so ... I'm so ... I'm tired...."
"I'm tired, too," Teresa said. "Come on."
"But I'm ashamed, I'm so ashamed ... I didn't know he ... I thought he was asleep...."
"Come on, Mary Jo," I said, moving toward them. "There's nothing to be ashamed of-it doesn't make any difference to me, it sure as hell doesn't make any difference to Teresa, and we're the only ones here."
"I'm still ashamed," Mary Jo muttered, her hands over her face.
"Oh, come on, Mary Jo-"
"Don't bug her," Teresa said, crawling toward me on her hands and knees. "She'll be all right tomorrow. Just hold her and feel her, if you want to, and I'll see if I can find somewhere to put this big thing I see sticking up here."
I pulled Mary Jo toward me, and she kept her face averted from mine as Teresa knelt on the bed by me, watching us with a smile and stroking my cock between her hands. Mary Jo pressed her face into the hollow of my shoulder and lay against me as I cupped one of her small, hard breasts in my hand and felt her damp pussy with my other hand, and Teresa straddled me, kneeling over my cock and guiding it toward her pussy with one hand. Mary Jo felt warm and soft under my hands, and the sensation of Teresa's fingers holding my cock was made much more acute by the sight of her slender, naked body crouching over me and by the feel of Mary Jo in my arms. Teresa lowered herself further, moving my cock from side to side, and the tip of it brushed against the soft hair covering her damp pussy. She pressed downward, and I felt the head of my cock poised between the lips of her pussy. I lurched, surging upward with my hips, and the head of my cock penetrated her. She hissed between her teeth, and every muscle in my body tightened convulsively from the sensation.
I lay watching Teresa fucking herself on my hard, throbbing cock while I felt and caressed Mary Jo, and Mary Jo began to respond, her small hands moving over my chest and shoulders as she kissed my neck. Mary Jo finally began kissing the side of my face, and I turned my head to kiss her lips. She flowed toward me, opening her small mouth, and I could detect the warm, pungent taste of Teresa's pussy in her mouth as I slid my tongue to the back of her throat. A moment later, as I was writhing in the throes of an orgasm and spurting my come into Teresa's hot pussy, Mary Jo had her arms wrapped firmly around my head and our tongues were battling wetly between our open lips.
I talked to Simmons the next day about painting the van, and after thinking about it for a while he remembered a small warehouse in the next block which wasn't being used. He made several calls on the telephone and traced down the agency which had it, and I drove to the office during my lunch hour. They didn't want to let it out for anything less than a six-month period, and then on a lease, but I finally talked them into renting it to me for a month. I signed all the papers, got the keys, then drove back, trying to decide whether to take a look at the warehouse or go by the shop which had my posters. I didn't have time to do both, so I decided to go to the shop and leave the warehouse until later. My lunch hour was rapidly running out by the time I got there, but it was worth the trip. They had sold four of the posters, and the envelope had a hundred and sixty dollars in it. I was so pleased over the money and hard-pressed for time that I agreed to be back on Wednesday to meet Clarissa, although I didn't really want to; I could picture her, an overweight frustrated grandmother with a floppy hat, too much makeup, and fringed leather coat with beads. Incense rather than perfume, fat rather than body, and a need to satisfy some remote, obscure quirk in her mind rather than sexual enjoyment. But I agreed, left the other posters with him, and raced back to the station.
I needn't have hurried, because the business was nothing and Simmons was deep in the dumps, poring over his books again. We had to make another run across the city to the parts distributor again, and he let me go. While I was there, I picked out several quarts of green, brown, yellow, and orange enamel, two gallons of clear lacquer, five gallons of primer, five gallons of solvent, and an assortment of upholstery material scraps. Things had picked up while I was gone, and Simmons was swamped by a line of cars on both sides of the pump islands. It was almost to the street, and some of the drivers at the rear of the line were getting impatient, almost ready to go somewhere else.
I pitched in, and we pushed them out. By the time the line was beginning to thin out, Simmons had to take work orders on a couple of oil changes and lube jobs. He had to promise delivery that afternoon on both of them in order to get them, and the drivers were hardly out of the station before a major tune up came in and he promised the same thing. I knew he needed the business and I needed it in order to keep my job, but I groaned inwardly; I had spent my lunch time in running around rather than eating, and my guts were beginning to fold up on me. I knew he'd give me a few minutes to go for a sandwich if I asked him, but I didn't want to ask and I kept on pushing the cars by the pump islands, hunching my shoulders in the cold wind.
They were finally all gone, and I went into the station to box the credit slips before going to help Simmons with the work orders. The phone rang, and I picked it up; it was Teresa. The children were home from school and wanted to go see a magic show at the theater down the street.
"Sure, if they want to. Let Granny take them."
"But it'll last for three or four hours, and you want to work on your truck tonight, don't you?"
"No sweat, it's not something that has to be done tonight. Anyway, there's other things that I have to do to it before she can start-there's some dents I have to take out of the fenders, and a couple of other things. Hey, while you're on the phone, I didn't have any lunch today. Could someone bring me something?"
"Sure. Mary Jo's not going to the show, so she could take a bus down there. What would you like? A hamburger or something?"
"A hamburger's fine. I'll get the something after I get home tonight."
She laughed. "Well, Mary Jo can take care of you if you change your mind while she's on her way there. See you tonight, darling."
"Later."
A couple more cars pulled up to the pumps and Simmons went out to take care of them while I started working on the oil changes and lubes. He had one of them almost finished, and I got it out and the other one in while he was taking care of the gas sales. We worked together on the second one and got it out in a few minutes, then two more cars came in while I was pulling the major tune-up into the shop. I groaned again as I heard Simmons talking to them in the station, telling them they would be ready by quitting time.
The gas sales died away to nothing, and the major tune-up moved along as we both worked on it. I pulled the carburetor and put it on the bench, rebuilding it, and Simmons worked on the distributor and plugs. There was a movement on the edge of my vision and a tug at my sleeve, and I looked down. It was Mary Jo, standing on her tiptoes with her mouth puckered for a kiss. I bent down and kissed her. "Hi. Where's my sandwich?"
"Here," she said, putting a paper bag on the bench. "What are you doing?"
"Fixing this," I replied, nodding toward the carburetor spread out on the bench. "It's part of that car, there." I glanced at the car as I nodded toward it and saw Simmons looking at us open-mouthed. "Oh, by the way Mary Jo, this is Mr. Simmons. This is my girl, Mary Jo."
"Hello, Mr. Simmons," she piped in her thin, soprano voice.
"Uh ... yeah, hi," he gulped. "Glad t'meecha." His mouth opened again as he looked at her once more, then he closed his mouth with a snap, snatched a screwdriver off the fender, and burrowed into the engine again.
"Well, I'll be getting back home."
"OK, thanks for bringing the sandwich. Will you be OK on the bus by yourself?"
She tossed her head back, laughing. "Silly, of course I will. Gimmie a kiss."
I kissed her again, and she walked to the door, turned and waved, then left, tugging her collar up around her neck. The reason for Simmons' staring at her was obvious. For one thing, she looked like a little china doll, with a delicate, fragile beauty. For another, she was still dressed in her school clothes, and the flared slacks and hooded coat made her look even younger than she actually was. The silence between us was pregnant as he worked under the hood of the car and I worked on the carburetor. He cleared his throat a couple of times, then finally spoke. "That's your girl, you say?"
I thought about Teresa, then decided not to tell him; no point in pissing him off or making him jealous. "Yeah, that's her. Cute, isn't she?"
"God damn it, she's just a kid. Yeah, she's cute all right, and she'll be a knockout when she grows up, but right now she's a kid. Christ, the next thing I know you'll be picked up by the cops for fingering your cock while you look at the babies in the maternity ward down at County General."
"Aw, come on. She's not that young-"
"What the hell do you mean? That kid's not fifteen yet. I don't know what her folks are thinking about to let her-"
"They're not thinking about her, that's for sure. Her old lady split, and I took her away from her old man because he was fucking her. I took her away from him and ran him off because she came to me and told me that he was fucking her and had tried to get one of her little brothers to give him a blow job. So much for her fucking folks."
Simmons blinked, looking at me in horror and disbelief. "You can't be telling me the truth-"
"Like shit I'm not. You drive home to your nice house on a nice, quiet street every night, and you don't know how it is in the slums. It's a fucking jungle, man, and I've been there. It pissed me off when Mary Jo told me about it, but it didn't shake me-I've seen the same thing and worse too many times."
"But God damn it, we have social workers and government agencies who take care of things like that-"
"Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, the kids would all be split up into different homes or places, and Mary Jo didn't want that. So she moved in with me, along with the other three kids."
"But, Bob, she's so God damned young-"
"So what? I'm not going to hurt her-I'm not even going to make her pregnant, because she takes the pill. And another thing-that's the only kind of pill she takes, which is more than anyone can say for three quarters of the kids she goes to school with. She doesn't sniff coke, she doesn't spring on speed, she's not on uppers or downers, she doesn't fool with horse, and she doesn't even smoke jane. She's also got plenty of clothes to wear, good food, and a comfortable place to live, which is more than she had when I met her. What's more, her two brothers and her little sister are better off than they've ever been. Do you want to ask her if she'd like to swap what she has now for what she had before? If you do, I'll call her down here and you can ask her. I know what she'll say. She'll say, shit no, I won't swap, that's what she'll say, because she doesn't stutter."
"All right, all right, don't get your shit hot. It's your business, anyway, not mine."
"And she's not as young as she looks."
"How old is she?"
I thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know exactly. She's a sophomore in high school, though."
"Well, hell, she's already saving up to buy herself some crutches, then isn't she?"
"Smartass."
"Cockster. Six, sixteen, or sixty, blind, drunk, or crazy, you'll fuck any of them, right? Come on, let's get this son of a bitch put together-we have a lot more facing us."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The warehouse was almost perfectly suited for what I needed. I checked it over and spent a couple of hours in beating the worst of the dents out of the fenders, then I leaded, sanded, and primed them. There were also a few spots of rust here and there, and I sanded them down and primed them. By the time I drove the van home that night, its surface was a crazy patchwork of the old, dead paint and spots of yellow primer. Teresa looked over the pieces of upholstery material I brought home and selected one, then made out a list of the tools and other materials she needed to upholster the seat and put in a new headliner.
I picked up the things during my lunch break the next day, and as soon as I was off work I drove home to get Teresa and the old woman. We went back to the warehouse and I parked the van outside to wash it down with solvent, then I drove it in the warehouse and we primed it. The old woman began sketching in the scene on the side as I took out the seats for Teresa to work on. She had to cut the material and sew it by hand, so it was a slow, tedious job, and I spent the time in taking off the bumpers and straightening the supports. By ten o'clock Teresa had part of one seat finished and the old woman had completed her sketch on about half of one side of the van, and we took a bus back to the apartment to keep from getting the van out in the shitty weather.
Teresa and the old woman left the house at the same time as I did the next morning, taking the baby along with them. I went to check on them and eat a sandwich with them during my lunch break. The work was progressing rapidly; the old woman had both sides sketched in and was already painting with enamel on one side, and Teresa had finished the seats and was working on the head-liner. I walked around the van, looking at it and eating a sandwich, highly pleased; the desert scene the old woman had sketched in was good, and it would be bright enough without being flashy. I was so involved with the van that it was the middle of the afternoon before I remembered that I'd made an appointment to meet the woman named Clarissa at the shop which had my posters. I mentally shrugged, dismissing it.
I thought about it the next day, though, when I paid sixty dollars for new chrome strips and to have the bumpers rechromed. Also, the enamel I picked for a base color on the van, a burnt copper, cost twenty-six dollars and I had to pay another thirty dollars for a couple of four-inch foxhair brushes to put on the base color and lacquer. I could have bought cheaper ones, but the old woman would have raised hell and they would have left brush streaks in the paint. It would have been false economy, but I had still spent enough money that I began thinking about the poster shop again, wondering how the posters were selling.
Then it was Friday already. The old woman had managed to do a couple more posters, and I took them with me when I went to the shop during my lunch break. It was empty when I went in, and I looked around as the bell over the door gradually stopped jingling back and forth. The curtain over the door to the rear of the place stirred, then it moved to one side and a woman walked in. She was a raving beauty, and I stared at her, paralyzed. She looked to be either Chicano, Italian, or of some Mediterranean ancestry mixed with anglo, with smooth, delicate skin just a little too light to be called olive, and with long, black hair and large, dark eyes. She was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, about five six and a hundred and twenty-five or so, and she was wearing a chic, expensive dress which hugged her, displaying her beautiful figure without being too obvious about it. All the little touches were there, too; her makeup was just enough to enhance her beauty and dramatize it, and her hair was expertly arranged, piled high on top and falling down on her shoulders and back in neat, thick folds and coils.
"Can I help you?"
"You're not Clarissa, are you?" I managed to choke out.
She looked closer, then her eyes fell down to the posters I was carrying. She walked toward me, a slow smile spreading across her face. "So you're Granny. Well, at last-where were you Wednesday?"
"I was playing the fool and milling around somewhere else. If you'd given the kid a picture to show me, I'd have been here sooner, believe me."
She laughed softly, and the edges of her white, perfect teeth showed between her full lips as her large, dark eyes flashed. "Well, the next time I'll know. Is that some more posters? I have some more money for you, too."
She held out her hand politely, and I took it, squeezing it slightly then deliberately dropping it as the feel of her warm, smooth skin in my hand made a surge of desire race through me. She was a confident, completely poised woman, and it would be easy to push too hard and probably impossible to get into her panties unless I managed to find and strike some responsive chord which would stir her interest. I handed her the posters and she turned to walk back to the counter; her trim, beautifully molded buttocks moved from side to side with a graceful, tantalizing motion as she walked to the counter, taking the paper bags off the posters. "Well, these are absolutely beautiful, as always, and we won't have any trouble selling them. You know, I've really wanted to talk to you so we could work out some sort of permanent arrangement."
"The one we have suits me fine."
She glanced up at me as she took the envelope out of the cash register and handed it to me. "Does it? Well, I wasn't sure what you expected. I've been selling them for fifty and giving you forty of it. We've sold six since you were in last, so there's two hundred forty dollars in the envelope. But what I'd really like to do is work out a set amount for you to bring in periodically so I'll know how many we'll have at any given time."
"Well, I don't always know how many I'll be doing at any given time-do you have a pen?"
She took a pen from the side of the register and handed it to me, and I scribbled on the receipt and handed it back to her. "Do you do something else as well as paint, then? I didn't know-" She broke off, frowning slightly and looking at me closer. "You know, you're not at all what I expected."
"What did you expect?"
"Well, Bill said you talked so hip that you were almost unintelligible, but now you're-" She broke off again, suddenly stepping forward and snatching my hat off with one hand as she pushed my hair back from my face with the other. "Oh, come on," she laughed, stepping back. "You're as straight as a bank president. Bill said you were in the hype scene and stayed smoked most of the time-who are you, anyway?"
I took my hat from her and pulled it back down on my head. "I'm me, that's who I am, but if it's story time I'll be more than glad to sit down with you and lay it all out."
"Well, you're no beat freak, that's for sure, and you're not in the happy scene at all. You shave and brush your teeth every day, and I'll bet that under that coverall you're as clean as I am."
"Now you're talking my language. What'll you bet?"
A flash of irritation spread over her face, then she smiled coolly and I could have kicked my own ass for the crack; it was flip and out of place for a woman who took herself as seriously as she did. It would now take a lot more work to get into her panties, if it could be done. "Well, in any event, you're a good artist. Your work shows immense control and a depth of understanding which indicates a lot of training and practice. Have you considered doing anything more serious than poster work?"
I shrugged. "Maybe in time, I don't know. When you said you'd like to have a set amount, how many did you have in mind?"
"It's up to you, because I don't want to degrade the quality by rushing you. How about five a week?"
I thought for a moment; the old woman would be through with the van in another day or two, and she could put out two posters a day when I pushed her. "Let's make it a half dozen."
"Fine," she replied, nodding. "I'll need your full name, address, and social security number as well. Income tax reports and the rest of it-you know."
I nodded, mentally shrugging, and wrote it down on a small square of paper for her. I could tell by the minute change in her expression that she recognized the street address and knew it was in the slums. "OK?" I asked her, handing it back to her.
She nodded, smiling politely, a thoughtful look in her eyes as she looked closely at my features for an instant. "Do you know when you'll be coming in to drop the posters off? If you do, I could be sure to be here in event you have any questions or you'd like to talk to me some more about it...."
"Wish I knew, but I don't. If I have any problems, I'll pass them through the kid and you can do the same. Anyway, I might get lucky and run into you again every now and then. Right?"
There seemed to be a touch of disappointment in her smile as she said goodbye and I left. She was interested in me, perhaps a little intrigued, because I didn't fit any of the patterns she knew. The boy had told her that I was a complete dropout from straight, and she knew there was much of it about me or I couldn't have fooled him. On the other hand, she knew I could lay on the straight when I wanted to, as I had with her, and there were many straight characteristics about me, hygiene, for example. Then there was my address, which pointed back to the dropout, and I had no idea of what conclusions she could draw about me from the paintings and I hesitated to think, knowing the zany old woman. I felt satisfied about the meeting; perhaps I had a chance.
The van was almost done, and I spent the money from the posters for a set of twelve-inch mags and wide tires for it. The upholstery was in, a dark brown synthetic leather with gold buttons, both on the seats and the headliner, and the old woman had the first coat of lacquer on. I put the chrome on it, replaced the bumpers, and jacked up the rear end to put in spring blocks so it would set slightly higher in the back, then I began taking the dash down. There were a few scraps of the upholstery material left over, enough to cover the dash, and it would add a little extra touch to it. The old woman looked tired when we left the warehouse that night, so I decided to wait until later to tell her about the posters or she might have been up half the night, trying to get some done.
A kid came by the station the next day trying to flog a stereo he had ripped off somewhere. They came by occasionally and Simmons was hell on them, but I needed one for the van and he was on the other side of the city picking up a few oil filters and things while I watched the place for him. He returned, I took the glue and roll of carpet he had picked up for me, then went to the warehouse. The old woman had finished painting the inside, and she started on the next coat of lacquer while I laid the carpet in the back and Teresa glued the upholstery material on the dash. Both jobs took only a few minutes, then I replaced the instruments in the dash and both of us went to help the old woman. She was touchy and grouchy as hell about how it was to be done, so I left Teresa to put up with her and roamed back over to the gasoline station.
"Nothing to do on your time off?" Simmons asked as I walked in.
"Nothing right now. I've done about all I can do on that van, and I've got someone painting it."
"What are you going to do with it, anyway?"
"Sell it, probably, if I can get a decent price for it. I'd like to buy a station wagon or a big sedan. I don't like driving a van."
"You should get a bug. I've seen bigger guys than you driving one, and it's sure as hell not too small for your girlfriend."
"Nah, I like a wagon."
He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'll talk to my brother and see if he wants to sell his, if you want me to. It's a creampuff, and that I know for sure. But you might not like it. It's a full-size Chewy, but it's got a six-cylinder engine and a stick shift."
"I don't mind the stick, but it's sort of odd for a full-size wagon to have a six."
"Yeah. He's a salesman, and he wrecked his wagon about a year ago. He needed one that day, and he took the first one he could find. After one trip in it, he gave it to his wife and she rarely drives anywhere while he's gone. It's a good car, but it just doesn't have the pickup of an eight."
"How much do you think he'd want for it?"
"Well, it's hard to say. The last time we talked about it he said he wanted to get it out of his garage, but it's only two years old so you wouldn't get it for what you paid for the van. That's for sure."
"I didn't expect so. How about talking to him about it and letting me know."
"Sure, be glad to."
I sat around and talked with him a few more minutes, then went back to the warehouse. The old woman was talking about wanting more lacquer and some rubbing compound to seat the first two coats before we put more on, but I shook my head in a firm negative. "No hand rubbing, Granny, it'll take too long. And two coats of lacquer is enough."
"But it won't look much better than the one we saw the other night."
"If it looks that good, then I'll be satisfied. Besides, we need to get some more posters done. That store wants six of them each week now."
She stopped brushing on the lacquer and looked at me over the top of her glasses. "When does the week start? I mean, when do they want the first six? If it's Monday, I can't possibly-"
"No, not that quick. Wednesday or Thursday will be fine."
She nodded, turning back to her work. "All right-I can get them done by then if we finish here today."
"All right, let's get done. What can I do to help?"
"You can mix another quart of lacquer, if you want to. Put in two ounces of thinner and stir it good. Teresa, you can touch up behind the rear bumper if you want to, honey."
We finished it off about eight that night and took home four large pizza pies for supper. We ate, watched TV for awhile, then went to bed. Teresa, Mary Jo, and I remained in bed the next morning, playing, talking, and dozing, and at about ten o'clock the old woman stormed into the bedroom and demanded that one of us come to watch the children so she could work on the posters without being bothered. Both Teresa and Mary Jo got up, and I lay in sodden laziness, smelling the bacon frying and the coffee perking. There was a squabble going on up on the fifth floor, and I went up to settle it after I had eaten. I saw Clara out of the corner of my eyes as I went back down the stairs; she was walking along the hallway, trying to catch me without calling out, but I hurried on. My cock was beginning to feel as though it had been sandpapered, and the way my balls felt the next time I came it would be a little puff of dust.
I laid around the apartment all day, resting and eating, and I finally got so bored that I was looking forward to going back to work the next day. I was also thinking speculatively about Clarissa and wondering when the old woman would have the posters done, but after Teresa and Mary Jo had finished with me that night I stopped thinking about Clarissa and thought only of the money the posters would bring.
Teresa and I dug through my musette bag the next morning, trying to find my Maltese cross, and I finally found it in the pocket of an old pair of dungarees. She shortened the cord so it would hang just below my neck, visible in the collar opening of my shirt, and I left a little early to go get the van and drive it to the station. I parked where it was visible to traffic coming from both directions but where no one would bump into it without trying to. Simmons did a doubletake at it through the plate glass window of the station, then stood staring at it. It was a doll, with the new chrome, the mags and wides, and the watery sparkle of the lacquer over the burnt copper and the scene on the sides. "You sure did a job on that one, didn't you?" he commented as I walked in.
"Yeah. Did you ask your brother about the wagon?"
"Yes, he said he'd take sixteen for it just to get rid of it. You'll never find a better buy."
"Well, let's see how the van does and maybe we can do some dealing."
Simmons liked the idea of having the van there, because it drew a lot of business for him. It's a theory in the gasoline station business that cars won't pull into a station which is completely empty, which may or may not be true, but the van kept kids hanging around most of the day with their cars parked all over the place, and business was brisk all day. Late in the afternoon a Stingray cruised into the station and parked by the van, and a couple of youths got out of it. I smelled money. Their clothes weren't that much different from those of others their age, and there were plenty of kids with Stingrays, but they didn't try to display them; they were accustomed to them and whatever else they wanted.
The bell jangled over the door as they came in. "Who owns the West Coast?" one of them asked.
I turned from the shelf where I was stacking oil filters. "Aloha. Who wants to know?"
His eyes moved over me, taking in the Maltese cross, my greasy coverall, my age, my size, and his computer spat out a card that said surf bum. "Hi, I'm Rog Phillister." He waved toward the other one. "This is Wes Haley."
"Rog, Wes," I acknowledged, nodding. "I'm Bob Fowler. So where it is."
"Good-looking van."
"It's my baby, but it's happier on Monterey Bay than in Chicago."
"How'd you happen to turn up here?"
"Got fucked around, man, story of my life. I'm supposed to be in San Jose, but here I am. I'll make it, though."
"I could take the van and fix you up to go back to San Jose tomorrow, if you want to."
I winced, shaking my head. "That's cold, man. That's my baby."
"I'd spring three big ones for it. You could go back and get another one for that-it wouldn't be a new one, but yours isn't either."
"That's still cold, but I'll think about it, man."
"OK," he nodded amiably. "I'll come back tomorrow and see you about it. Don't sell it in the meantime, though. OK?"
I nodded and started stacking the filters again. "Later."
Simmons looked in through the connecting door to the shop as they walked back toward the Stingray. "Am I losing my mind, or did that kid offer you three thousand for that van?"
"You heard it."
"Shit, I'm in the wrong business. I should be painting vans."
"Yeah, just try to get a picture like that on the side of one. There's where the gold is."
He looked at the van through the plate glass window, shrugged, and turned back toward the shop, still shrugging. "Yeah, I guess so."
A couple more kids came in, running their mouth, but I wouldn't set a price on the van and they weren't as direct as Phillister had been. It was close to quitting time when I saw a Cadillac cruise slowly along the street, then come back from the other direction, pause, and go on. I didn't look directly at the Cadillac or act as though I had noticed it, but I saw Phillister in the front passenger seat, talking to an older man under the wheel; he was showing the van to daddy. I felt almost light hearted as I cleaned the place up and got ready to go home. I drove the van to the warehouse and locked it up, because I didn't want to park it in front of the apartment building; I wanted the mags and stereo to still be there the next day.
When I came to work the next morning, Simmons told me that the kid had been in the station after I'd left the night before, looking for me, and he came in again after school was out. I still put him off, but I gave him the keys and let him drive it around for a while. He came back, parked it where it had been, and sat in it for almost an hour with the engine idling, listening to the stereo. He backed it to the pumps and filled it with gasoline, then brought the keys back to me and left. Business was really bad again that day, the van was one of about ten cars which we filled up, and there were no work orders. I spent most of the day in cleaning up the place, cleaning and sorting out the tools, and taking care of the odds and ends of work which had accumulated. Simmons was in a glum mood all day, morose and uncommunicative, and it began to look more and more as though I'd be laid off.
The next day was Wednesday, and the old woman had six posters wrapped, ready for me to deliver. The early morning business of cars stopping in on their way to work didn't amount to much, and we picked up only two oil changes and lubes in the way of work orders. I got them out of the way, and it was about ten o'clock when I was cleaning up the pump island. A Cadillac pulled up to the pumps, and a man got out of the driver's seat as I walked toward it. "Fill it up?"
He nodded, pulled his coat collar up around his neck, and buried his hands deep in his pockets. "Are you the one who owns the van?"
I looked at the Cadillac again; it could have been the one I saw cruising by the station. "Yes, I'm Bob Fowler."
"I'm Roger Phillister. My son's been talking about it, and I'd like to buy it for him. His birthday's next week, and I haven't been able to find anything that he'd-well, how much do you want for it?"
"I'll take thirty-five hundred, cash."
He sighed and moved his shoulders irritably. "It's not worth that much."
"No, it's not, but that's what I'll take."
He gave me a sour look, then turned and walked slowly toward the van. He walked around it, unwrapping a cigar, then put the cigar back in his mouth, and walked back as I put the filler nozzle back in the pump. "How's the oil?"
"It's all right, you don't have to check it. Do you have a clean title on the van?"
"Sure do."
"All right, let's go in and I'll write you a check for it. I'll send someone after it this afternoon-" He broke off as I slowly shook my head.
"When I said cash, I meant green."
"My checks are good anywhere in the country," he snapped.
"Your checks might be, but I'm not. I don't have an account in any bank, and I don't have a permanent address, and-well, what I'm trying to say is that your check is probably good but I wouldn't be able to cash it. If you're going to send someone after it, just send the money with them."
He nodded, mollified. "I don't like to have that much in cash floating around, but if that's what you want...." He took his credit card case out, selected one, and handed it to me. "Have the title ready."
I nodded, and he got back in the car as I took the credit card to the embosser on the island. He signed the slip with a flourish, took his copy, then rolled the window up and gunned the Cadillac away from the island.
I remained at the station during my lunch break in event the man came with the money, but he didn't show up until almost two thirty. He looked like a lawyer or possibly some kind of business manager, and he gave the title a close scrutiny and used the telephone in the office to call the DMV on it while I counted the money. He had brought some kind of gardener or workman in the car with him to drive the van, and they pulled slowly away from the station and into the flow of traffic as I fingered the money in my pocket. "Well, you made a killing on that one," Simmons said from behind me.
"Yeah. Do you think your brother would bring that station wagon on over here, or will I have to take a bus over there?"
"If he wants to sell it he'll bring it. I'll give him a call."
Simmons' brother came at just after five, and Simmons had been right about the wagon; it was a creampuff. It looked virtually new, except for a few thousand showing on the odometer, and it ran like a sewing machine. I paid him for it, took the keys and title, then put the posters in the back seat and left.
The small engine was sluggish on pickup, but it did all right once the wagon was moving and it was much easier to control on corners then the ungainly van had been. I drove around for a few blocks, then went to the aquarian shop. The lights in the shop were off, but I saw a movement in the back of the shop and rapped on the door with my knuckles, peering in. There was another movement, then in the dim light of the night light I saw Clarissa walking toward the door. She unlocked it and held it open for me. "You came just in time-I was closing early tonight."
"Something special going on?"
"No, I just didn't feel like keeping the place open. We don't get very much business after six, anyway, during the week. Are those the posters?"
"Yeah, six of them."
She relocked the door and turned to take the posters from me, and I caught her with my arm around her shoulders as she stumbled slightly. "Hey, are you all right?"
She chuckled. "A little bit too much, perhaps. That's why I was closing the shop before someone came in and I gave it to them."
There was a distinct odor of jane in her hair and clothes under the scent of the delicate, tantalizing perfume she wore. "Get some bad grass or something?"
"I got some, that's the problem-I'm not used to it. A woman who makes macrame for me came in and had some, and ... well, I thought I had to play the role or something...."
I put my posters on the counter, taking her arm. "What you need is some coffee, babes. Come on, and-"
"Oh, my apartment's upstairs," she replied, waving vaguely toward the back of the shop, "but I don't know-" She broke off and looked up at me in the darkness. "Would you like some coffee? I just don't want to be alone, to tell you the truth about it."
"I won't leave you alone, don't worry about it. Come on."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She wasn't smoked, but she'd had just enough jane to break down her inhibitions and to make her introspective and melancholy. At the same time, she sought an escape from the despondency which gripped her, an anchor for her mind as it wildly flitted back and forth. If there was a question of ethics involved in what I intended, it was overruled by the powerful, gripping desire which swept through me as I walked up the stairs with her, my arm around her waist, feeling the graceful movements of her beautiful body.
"I don't feel like coffee," she said, flipping on the light and closing the door behind us. "How about a drink or a beer?"
I glanced around the living room; it was a nice apartment, expensively furnished and tastefully decorated. "Shouldn't mix booze with grass. It might freak you out."
She looked solemnly up at me, blinking. "Well, how about some suggestions, then?"
I put my hands on her shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "I know what you want, Clarissa, but I'm just not sure whether or not you know it."
She took a deep breath and swallowed. "Try me."
A fiery, raging desire was roaring within me, and I clamped a firm control over the impulse to rip her clothes from her and ram my cock deep into her alluring body as I gently took her in my arms and lowered my mouth toward hers. Her lips parted, soft and damp between mine, and the tip of her tongue brushed back and forth across my lips. I kept it soft and easy, coaxing her with a warm, gentle caress, and she sighed softly as I took my lips from hers and held her to me. "That's nice," she breathed, "makes me feel so warm and comfortable ... numb and fuzzy inside...."
I bent down and picked her up, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder as I walked to the couch with her. I sat down with her on my lap, and she kicked her shoes off as she curled up on my lap, kissing the side of my neck. I kissed her again, sliding my tongue into her mouth and caressing the inside of her mouth with it, and she combed her fingers through my hair as our lips sucked and pulled at each other. She nibbled at my tongue with the edges of her teeth, then she sucked at it, rolling her tongue around it. She was panting softly when I took my lips from her again. "Do you want to see me here?" she asked softly, putting her hand on her breasts.
I nodded, and she leaned forward as I unfastened the snap at the back of her dress and pulled the zipper down. She wasn't wearing a slip under the dress, and my fingers felt thick and clumsy as I fumbled with the fastener on her bra. It finally fell loose, and she leaned back in my arms again, tugging at her dress and bra to pull them away from her. Her breasts slowly came into view, firm, resilient, and silky smooth. I cupped one of them with my trembling hand and lowered my lips toward the other one. She cupped it in her hands and held it up to me as I kissed it gently, then she shuddered as I stuck my tongue out and traced the tip of it around her nipple. The nipple hardened and protruded, and I took it between my lips, sucking it and flicking my tongue back and forth across it. She wrapped her arms around my head, and her hands moved over my head in quick caresses as I sucked her breast, taking more and more of it into my mouth. Her naked back felt warm, soft, and smooth under my hands as I moved them up and down, feeling and caressing her.
"We're going to make love, aren't we, Bob?" she asked quietly.
I let her breast slide from my mouth and moved my lips up to her neck in soft kisses. "I'd like to, and it's what you need, Clarissa."
"Let me up, then, please."
She slid off my lap, pushed her dress down, and stepped out of it as she tossed her bra onto the couch. My cock was thrusting against the confines of my pants in a hard, throbbing erection as I looked at her pushing her panty hose down and stepping out of them, then she pushed her panties down, took them off, and turned to face me, naked. "Do you like me? Am I beautiful?"
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," I replied hoarsely, glaring at her soft, warm, naked body.
She smiled, a slow sad smile, and turned toward the hallway, and I followed her, jerking my clothes off and watching the graceful, sensuous movement of her hips from side to side.
The bed made a soft sound as she lay down on it, and she spread her legs open and flexed her knees as I got on the bed, hovering over her. "Please be gentle with me, Bob. You're so ... so big, and you might ... please don't hurt me."
"I won't hurt you, honey. I'll make you feel good."
She trembled and murmured softly as I cupped her pussy in my hand, then she relaxed with a sigh and opened her lips wide for my tongue as I gently massaged her vulva between my fingers, opening it and moistening it. Her breath fanned my cheek warmly as I lay between her legs, caressing her pussy and kissing her, and her small hands moved over my shoulders and back, touching and fondling me. She jerked and groaned deep in her throat as the tip of my finger slid into her pussy, then she spread her legs wider as I slid my finger in and out of her, fucking her with it. Every muscle in my body was taut and I was shaking with desire as I moved closer to her, guiding the head of my cock toward her pussy. I pulled my finger back out of her pussy and guided the tip of my cock between the soft, damp lips, working it around to spread her apart, then I eased the head of my cock into her. A shudder passed through her, and she sucked frantically at my tongue, wrapping her arms around my neck. I continued to move my cock around in a tight, circular motion and began to ease more of my cock into her.
When I had half of it in her, I began fucking her with slow, firm movement as I stroked her clitoris with the tip of my finger. She dug her fingernails into my back as she spread her legs as wide as she could get them and thrust her hips at me in quick, surging snaps, suddenly breaking into an orgasm. "NOW! ALL OF IT! AGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
I seized her buttocks and slammed my cock all the way into her, feeling the head of it probing deep into her warm, alluring body, then I began fucking her with long, hard strokes, pulling my cock out until only the head of it was in her and ramming it back into her until my balls were pressed against her vulva. She scratched at my back and bit at my shoulder as my throbbing cock speared her, driving her on through her climax, and she continued to utter whimper cries as she thrashed convulsively about under me. She finally fell limply back on the bed, relaxing and panting breathlessly, and I lay on her, gasping for breath, my cock still buried deep in her body. "Please go ahead and do it," she choked, plucking at my shoulders. "I can't stand it much longer, and you still haven't ... please go ahead and do it, and don't take too long, darling ... please...."
It had been a wrenching climax, completely draining her, and she was barely able to stand the sensation as I began fucking her again. But she gripped herself and held her legs wide open for me as my cock slid in and out of her, my climax inexorably approaching. I didn't hold it back, because I knew what it was costing her. As soon as the come had formed into a hard, tight knot, I let it erupt into her body. She felt the hot, thick fluid spruting deep into her, and she uttered a long, trembling wall of relief as I hunched into her, grunting hoarsely as the come boiled from me.
She was laying on her side, sound asleep, and I pulled the covers over her as I got up to dress. The keys to her apartment were on the coffee table in the living room, and I bounced them in my hand, thinking, then put them in my pocket and left.
It was almost nine o'clock, Teresa was irritated and suspicious, and Mary Jo gave me a reproachful glance as I came in. "Where've you been?" Teresa snapped. "It's hours after you're supposed to be here, and-"
"Shut up and find somewhere to hide this," I said, shoving the roll of money into her hand, then I looked at Mary Jo. "Fix me something to eat-I've got to go back out."
Teresa looked at the money open-mouthed, shuffling the bills. "Where'd you get all this money, Bob? You've not been stealing anything, have-"
"I sold the van and bought a station wagon, and I've got to go get it. I don't trust the cocksucker I bought it from, and he might split with it after taking my money."
"But how much did-"
"We'll talk about it later. Get me something to eat-I'm hungry."
It worked, giving her the money to worry about, and she completely dismissed the possibility of my bun having been in another oven as she sat at the table with me while I ate, talking about places to hide the money. She gave me a preoccupied kiss when I got up to leave, and she was still plucking at her lip and frowning about it as I went out the door.
The apartment was dark and quiet, and Clarissa was lying on her stomach, breathing deeply. I quietly undressed and got into bed, and she snapped awake as I moved on top of her, my cock pressing against her firm, shapely buttocks. "What is ... what are ... you're not going to do it again, are you? You've already done it and come in me...."
I want it again, I said, fondling her body and kissing her shoulders, pressing her down on the bed so she couldn't turn over. My stiff cock was lying between her thighs, the head of it between her buttocks, and I slid my hand under her, feeling the crisp hair below her flat belly. I raised her slightly, feeling her pussy, and her thighs slid apart, allowing the head of my cock to press against her vulva.
"Please don't do it to me again ... I'm sore, and ... please don't ... you've already done it to me and come in me, and ... wait until tomorrow, and I'll let you do it again ... please wait, and I'll let you do it to me every day, if you want to...."
I raised her higher, and her buttocks were thrusting up in the air, with my cock lying between them, pointed at her pussy. Her pussy was damp and soft, warm and tempting, and I opened her vulva, feeling for her channel with the tip of my cock.
"...please don't ... it's too much, I can't stand it any more ... I'll let you come up here and do it to me every night if you'll just be patient and not do it too much at one time-aaaggggghhhhhhHH-HHHHH!"
She wailed as the head of my cock slid into her, then her shoulders shook with gasping sobs as I cupped her pelvic bones in my hands and riased her buttocks high in the air, sliding more of my cock into her. " ... don't take too long," she choked in a trembling voice, "just hurry and do it to me, and don't take too long ... it's tearing me apart ... yes, touch me there ... not so hard ... that's better ... now more of it ... go ahead, put it all in me, now ... touch me ... that's right, there...."
I stroked her clitoris, titillating her, and the sensation of sexual gratification became the predominant stimulus, erasing her reluctance over being penetrated, her revulsion of her body's being invaded by my long, hard cock. She put her elbows wide apart and braced her knees on the bed, raising her buttocks higher for me, and I knelt between her thighs, gripping her around her tiny waist and sliding my cock in and out of her hot, tight pussy. She arched her back, trembling with pleasure, then suddenly exploded into an orgasm, twisting her hips from side to side and thrusting herself back at me. " ... harder ... faster ... FASTER! DO IT! OH, GOD! GOD! GOD! AGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!
The come was an irresistible pressure within me, impossible to contain, and I gripped her tightly, digging my fingers into her soft flesh as the semen burst from me in a flood, spurting deep into her warm body as I drove my cock into her. The waves of sensation washed over me, making me numbly aware of her whimpering protests as she tried to pull away from me, her body again surfeit with sensation, but I gripped her tightly and kept shooting come into her, lancing my cock into her tight pussy. I was finally drained and I collapsed on top of her, holding her to me as she trembled and sobbed, gasping for breath. " ... let you do it to me any time, but please don't do it more than once ... can't stand it more than once ... do something else to get you over, but can't do that more than once. Promise?"
I nodded, panting. "OK, I promise. Nothing but quickies from now on."
Simmons was waiting for me when I got to work the next morning, and he laid me off. He was sincerely sorry, but he had no option. The business at the station had taken a nosedive, as it occasionally will at gasoline stations, and I was costing him more than I was able to produce.
We shook hands and he told me to check back in event things picked up again, then I got in the station wagon and left. I wasn't worried about money because I had more than enough to last for a while, as well as a steady income from the posters if nothing else developed, but I hated to have the lost, footloose feeling of not having a job.
The weather wasn't too bad, but it was cold and cloudy, and a stinging wind was blowing in from the lake. I drove back down to the docks and poked around. The wind was blowing along the streets and around the warehouses in gusts, driving papers and bits of trash along in front of it, and there wasn't a lot of activity going on. A truck had overturned by the loading dock of one of the warehouses, blocking the street and the dock, and I picked up a couple of hours of work there, then I found another little job in an adjacent warehouse, where everything was being moved around for an inventory. Then I couldn't find anything else, and about twelve I got back in the station wagon to drive over to the railyards.
My best bet seemed to be a fruit and grain jobber, a small pudgy man who kept taking his glasses off to wipe the condensation from them as he moved nervously back and forth, trying to hurry his gang. I pulled at his sleeve and asked him, and he wheeled, looking up at me and wiping his red nose. "Yeah, if you'll work. It's four bucks an hour, and I don't pay while you're sitting on your ass. How about it? Do you want to work or not?"
"I want to work."
"Then get on over there." He started to walk away, then wheeled back as I moved toward the truck the men were loading from the dock. "What's your name?" I told him, he jotted it down in a small notebook, then put the notebook back in his pocket and walked on, and I went toward the truck, pulling my gloves on.
It was a good job, and the jobber was an easy man to work for when he found out that I could work. There were some funny things about it, though. A couple of the men on the gang were more the gangster type than laborer type, from their clothes, talk, and appearance, and when I saw the car of melons was from Mexico I pegged them as shills for a grass or even a sugar ring. Then when we had most of the crates unloaded, they found the one they were looking for. Melon juice was dripping from it, and they dragged it to one side, pulling a couple of the slats up. They tried to act nonchalant about it, and it appeared that the other dumb shits on the gang didn't see what was going on, but I spotted the small package they took out of the broken melon. It was about half the size of a cigarette carton and sealed up in wax paper, which pegged it as either sugar or coke; it was too small to hold enough grass to make it worth the effort.
They put the package on a ledge under the loading dock, then when we formed up again after the break they were nowhere to be found. The jobber was all pissed off, because we still had another car to unload, and he buzzed around, trying to locate more help. He couldn't find anyone, but while he was gone I buckled down and began pushing the winos myself, and it looked as though we would probably make it by dark.
The jobber returned and even moved a couple of crates himself, then a man started bending his ear, trying to buy a couple of crates of the melons from him. It happened all the time, someone trying to cut out the middleman and buy a bunch of something for a party, and the jobber stood talking to him, patiently explaining why he couldn't. Then I noticed that another man got out of the car by the truck we were loading, and he was poking around under the dock where the men had stashed the junk. He found it, looked around to see if anyone was watching, then switched it for an envelope. That captured my interest; I couldn't use the junk, but I would be able to use what was in the envelope, if its contents were what I expected.
The men left, it began to get dark and colder, and the winos started complaining loudly. The jobber went after a bottle to keep them happy and warm, then he went and found some floodlights to put on the dock when it got too dark to see. I carried one of the crates along the edge of the dock and brushed it against a floodlight, then set the crate down and jumped down from the dock. I reached for the floodlight as I ran my hand along the ledge under the dock. My hand brushed against the envelope, then closed on it; it was filled with crisp bills.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The snow banked up on each side of the freeway was a white shadow in the gleam of the headlights, and the chains crunched solidly under the station wagon as I drove at a steady forty-five miles an hour. The radio muttered with the blurred, wavery sound of a car radio late at night, and there was the sound of deep, heavy breathing from the back seat.
Teresa stirred and yawned, then looked at her watch and stretched. "What's it like there?"
"It rains sometimes, but it never snows and it's never cold. There's miles of beach and sand. I know a place where we can rent a cabin that's miles from nowhere, and there's a bus the kids can catch to school. It'll be nice."
"We were doing all right where we were."
I reached inside my coat and touched the envelope, then put both hands on the wheel. "We were freezing our asses off, too. Wait 'till you see it-you'll like it."
"Who did you rip off?"
A drug ring. I saw their drop, and I made the guy switching money for the junk. It must have been horse, from the amount he left, and good stuff at that."
"You were out of your mind."
"Maybe, but we're ten thousand better off now."
"We didn't need it-we were doing all right."
"We'll do better there. We have a good bankroll now, and we can set up a shop to paint a couple of vans now and then. We'll do fine."
She sighed and yawned again. "Well, it's done now, in any event, and we're on our way. I almost had a heart attack when you came running in the apartment and told us to get everything together."
"I almost had ten heart attacks before we got underway. Those people don't fuck around when someone rips them off. They'd have found me by tomorrow."
"Do you think they'll be able to trace us?"
"Not a chance. Once we were out of the city limits, we were home free."
She turned and looked at the back seat, where the old woman, Mary Jo, and the children were sprawled in a tangle of limbs, sleeping, then she turned and looked back toward the windshield. She was silent for a moment, then she looked at me again, her small face shadowy and mysterious in the dim light of the dashboard. "Are you all right? I mean, do you want anything, or ... you know, anything?"
"How in the fuck can I get anything when I'm driving this car?"
She snorted. "I'm no dumbass-I know how to keep you from getting too bad off, and it'll probably be several more hours before Mary Jo or I get a chance to take care of you." She opened the glove compartment, peered at it in the darkness as she rummaged in it, then took out a small pack of tissues and slid across the seat toward me. "Spread your legs a little more."
I parted my legs and settled myself in the seat as she fumbled with the front of my pants, unzipping them, then she took my cock out and began slowly stroking it. I put my arm around her and fumbled at the front of her blouse as I steered with one hand, and she took her hands away from my cock long enough to open the front of her blouse and shrug her bra out of the way. My hand closed over her small, firm breast, squeezing and fondling it, and she wrapped her fingers around my cock again as she slowly stroked it.
