"You'll find out very quickly it's more like a hot poker."
Her delicate fingers pulled the waistband of his shorts down his legs and waited while he stepped out of them, then pulled his shoes off and removed his pants. Immediately, as he got to his feet, she changed her mind and rolled to the edge of the water bed. She got on to her knees in front of him saying, "Un, un, let me do that."
Looking up at him with seductive eyes, her soft hair falling over her shoulders and curling down to decorate one rich breast, she began unzipping his fly.
CHAPTER ONE
There were six people near the public lockers in the airport when the ear-splitting explosion erupted, sending chunks of twisted metal through the air. The blast was reverberating through the cavernous airport when the first screams from horrified people began filling the air.
Five of the people close to the explosion were dead and a sixth was missing an arm and losing blood so fast the policeman who got to her thought she'd not live. He was right.
Emergency vehicles, police cars, officials, and terrified travelers filled the building like ants, scurrying through the clouds of dust. People were running in all directions trying to go someplace, anyplace; the panic was causing more injuries by the second.
In metropolitan police headquarters Captain McDonald said a silent prayer and spun into action.
"I need manpower! Hazel, get the bomb squad implementation file out and start calling. I want every bomb expert on the eastern seaboard in this station house by nine. Callahan, get on the horn to the Governor, ask him for martial law in New York City. That's the third explosion this month, we've got another mad bomber on the loose."
Burt Showalter took off his uniform and hung it up. He walked on powerful muscular legs to the shower in his apartment and closed the door. Almost immediately the warm water began changing the air in the tiny cubicle to clouds of steam.
When he was through with the shower, he put on sports clothes and combed his hair, then quickly went downstairs and got into his sports car and headed for Chick's place. Chick, his best friend, was giving a bachelor party for Roger Brink. Burt drove hurriedly to Chick's place because he wanted to relax and have a good time and probably get drunk. It had been one helluva week for the police force in the suburban community across the river from New York. Chick was the kind of host who knew where to lay his hands on everything. This party was going to be one of the most ambitious undertakings and promised to be spectacular. He'd hinted what would be on tap for his buddies.
"Come early and watch the look on the others' faces when they see what I've lined up," had been Chick's tantalizing hint.
Twenty minutes after Burt arrived, Chick opened the door on his surprise; two girls. One look at their makeup and Burt knew what kind of entertainment was in store for the bachelor party guests. The two were professional belly dancers. One was chunky, but could she move her hips! The gossamer fabric of her skirt showed her legs. She wore lots of clanky jewelry and tiny cymbals on her fingers. Anyone watching could tell she enjoyed her seductive effects.
The other girl had the better figure but wasn't as talented a performer. During her second dance the fleshier one encouraged the oldest-looking guy there to undo her bra. She lay across his knees and pulled his hand to caress her breasts. The gang cheered. The busty dancer managed to bring her tits within kissing distance of just about everyone.
The beautiful girl twirled and undulated, but at a distance. She could tell she was losing the audience to the other dancer and she grew miffed. She gyrated and dipped and hesitated with more enthusiasm. The response she got was likewise more enthusiastic. When she knelt down on the floor in front of the groom-to-be, then lay on her back and shook her tits, he blushed deeply. When she protruded her pudenda as only a trained belly dancer can, the boys picked up the bridegroom and held him over her. Whistles echoed through the room. She wrapped her snake-like arms around his head and French kissed him. She made sure everyone could see what she was doing.
The second girl straddled his shoulder and lowered her body onto his head in rhythm with the music. Her fingers expertly clicked the cymbals and her tits bounced like generous bowls of jello. The partyers hooted and called. "Throw it to him, baby."
"Don't inhale, Dave, you'll put her out of business."
One hand went to the back of her neck and she pulled her rich shoulder-length hair slowly forward over the top of her head. Her hips were grinding into the back of his head as he held himself on his hands above the undulating body of the other dancer.
Without touching him she slithered her body out from under him and wound her way through the eager onlookers till she came to Chick, the host. He was sitting on a bridge chair and she stood behind him and let her breasts hang on either side of his perspiring forehead. Just as he reached up to hold her delicious flesh, she twirled away and teased another man.
Her companion was moving in a coital display that some of the revelers were never to see again their whole lives. The groom was getting turned on and found it more and more difficult to play the good sport. He downed two stiff drinks in quick succession to incapacitate himself and remain faithful to his bride-to-be. Burt Showalter observed his sly cop-out and grinned.
By one a.m. the girls' contract was up and, blowing kisses and hugging the men, they went to another room to dress. The groom's brother drove him home and the party broke up. Chick was glad everyone had had a good time, but he didn't feel like stopping. He took Burt by the arm and spoke to him in a low voice.
"Listen, I don't feel tired, do you? How about we go out and have ourselves a little fun? I know just the place we should go. It'll only cost $20."
"How can anything top the party you've just thrown?"
"Trust me."
Burt admitted to himself that the girls had gotten him horny. Chick had never failed to deliver on a promise of sensational entertainment. Yeah, he could stand some middle-of-the-night hanky-panky.
They went in Chick's car. The driver was far from sober and Burt found himself clenching his fists as the car straddled the white line or came dangerously near other vehicles. Chick drove to a shopping center. There were cars parked here and there in the vast parking area. Burt noticed a clunker dying of old age in a corner, an occasional teenage couple necking, and an out-of-state camper. Probably the most sensible place for camper travelers to spend the night in a city. Chick drove in a large circle around the camper, then blasted his horn once and stopped the car.
"Why are we stopping in the middle of a parking lot?"
"Just a minute."
Chick kept his eye on the camper. Burt looked that way. The camper's headlights came on, stayed on for a few seconds, then went out. "Okay."
Chick pulled the car up the edge of the parking lot and turned off the ignition. Burt stared at him in wonder as he climbed out of the automobile.
"What's all this clandestine horn and light signal business with a camper in the middle of the night? We're two guys out for a good-time, not Nixon's assistants."
"Got your money?"
"Yeah."
"Come on, then."
As they approached the vehicle the door opened and a young black man, about college age, stepped out. He wore an Indian cotton shirt and had his hair braided in intricate corn rows. One ear was pierced and from it dangled a gold hoop, the kind harem, eunuchs are always pictured as wearing.
"Hey, my man, how yah doing?" The black man and Chick slapped each other's palms. Chick introduced Burt. He stuck out his hand and shook with the Negro, but instead of letting go, the young man clasped Burt's thumb and turned it gently one way then the other, then closed his fist around it. It was friendly enough, but for Burt it was as mysterious as witnessing a sacred ritual of some New Guinea tribe.
Chick led the way into the camper. Inside were two girls about the same age as the man. They were propped up watching a tiny color television. At first, Burt couldn't make out much detail except that one of the girls was rosy and plump, the other sleek and vaguely Oriental. "Polly!"
"Chick! You old fart, welcome back!" The plump girl was off the bed in a minute and flung her arms around him. She wore a brightly colored, loose-fitting man's shirt and nothing else. The other girl was clad only in bright orange panties. Her body was petite like a ballet dancer's. Her breasts were very small and absolutely beautiful. Her skin was the most perfect Burt had ever laid eyes on. Her hair was long, black, and straight. Tear drops of jade hung from her ears. She smiled up at Burt. She was a work of art.
The young driver climbed into the cab and turned over the ignition. Polly closed the door behind them and opened the tiny refrigerator and pulled out miniscule frosted glasses which she filled from an undersized pitcher.
"Let's celebrate your return with a mini-martini, that sound all right to you boys?"
Chick readily agreed but Burt really didn't want to see another drink for the rest of his life. He was afraid after the consumption of the evening that he wouldn't be able to get it up. How would that look-for a he-man cop to fail the force and not be able to rise to the occasion?
"I'll pass, I've had more than usual already."
"Suit yourself. This is Lin Che, she's a Vietnamese refugee. Well, Not exactly a last-minute refugee, she's more of a divorced war bride. It seems her hubby decided she didn't look like all the girls back home so when he got her here he dumped her. She doesn't speak English very well, she used braille."
Burt looked at the young girl. She was utterly lovely. He smiled at her. She smiled back and moved her arm, patted the wall-to-wall bed with the palm of her hand indicating she wanted him to sit beside her.
Chick turned down the light and drew the blinds, others might be able to see in. Lin Che and Polly turned back the blankets on the king-size bed. Chick took off his shirt. He reached for Polly's hand as if he didn't have to say anything. She had a momentary grip in her stomach.
Chick began fondling her big breasts. They sat on the bed and he gradually moved to a lying position, his body against hers. Burt and Lin Che got on the bed from the other side. With a healthy roll they banged into the other couple.
Burt got off the bed and crawled onto the floor near the shapely legs of his woman. One hand went to each pussy. He shared his kisses between each woman's legs. Slowly he inserted a finger into each pussy. They were warm and his cock rose to salute their femininity. Burt's mouth explored Lin Che's sweet lips. He sucked her upper lip between his hot inflamed lips and pressed against her so hard she could feel his teeth. That excited her even more and she wound her hands in back of his head to hold his succulent mouth on hers.
Polly reached across her Oriental friend and grabbed Chick's cock. It was swollen. Motivated as much by her mounting lust as by her memories of their past love-making, she stretched herself forward and took his helmeted cockhead into her mouth. Her large tits rested on Burt's arm as he maneuvered his fingers in Lin Che's moistening cunt. Lin Che's hand went to Polly's knees.
Burt withdrew his wet fingers and got to his feet. He went in back of Polly who stretched herself across Lin Che. He placed both of his hairy hands on Polly's bottom and spread her ass cheeks. His mouth descended to her ass and he worked his tongue into her anal chamber. His head slid up and down vigorously.
Polly let out a groan of surprise and delight.
Lin Che rolled her eyes to see what was causing Polly's joyful moan. The sight of the man eating her ass so. turned her on that she automatically stuck two fingers in her vagina and rubbed her clit. Chick covered her tits with hands that couldn't stop moving. He moved farther away from Lin Che so he could lie flat. He didn't say anything but guided Lin Che to her knees over Polly.
Chick lay on his back with Polly kneeling on the bedding sucking his cock, her generous bosom rubbing his legs. Lin Che straddled Polly with her ass high in the air. This put her face right above the dark-haired woman's ass. She watched Burt eating the ass inches from her face. His eyes looked up to her but he kept his elongated tongue working in her rosette.
A general moan and shudder of exhaled breath came from various members of the human knot. Chick glanced from Polly's sucking to the delectable round smoothness of Lin Che's sexy ass. He sat up. His hands polished her attractive buns. He fingered the slight crop of hair that was visible below them. His mouth began salivating at the mental image he had of sinking his throbbing prick into the soft folds of her cunt. Without thinking, he moved his mouth to the bush above him and stuck out his tongue. Eagerly he stroked her labias and worked his straining tongue into her vagina. Lin Che showed her pleasure with an "Oh, Ah, Yes, Ummm, Ah!" and several things he didn't understand.
Lin Che was smiling so sweetly that Burt gazed at her face and abandoned the warm ass of the Asiatic and got to his feet on the bed. Balancing himself against the wall, he stood towering over her.
Burt's swollen penis stuck straight out from his body. The head was almost one-third of his whole organ. It looked like an Italian tomato. She thought to herself the weight of it must be a burden when it was hard like this. It bobbed while he got his feet into a comfortable position. His balls hung just like a bull's.
Lin Che didn't realize it, but her tongue was rubbing against the bottom of her upper lip as she repeatedly stuck it out in a communication of desire. Burt bent his knees and lowered the blue-veined cock to her hungry lips. She opened her mouth and let his cock slide between her red lips. She closed her mouth around its sizable head. Her mouth was full.
Burt grabbed a handful of her luxuriant hair and rubbed it across his belly. He loved the feel of this beautiful woman servicing his cock on her hands and knees. The sight of another handsome woman's bare body beneath them was even more of a turn on. Chick was feeding his prick to her in increasing fury.
Polly was stimulated by hearing Burt say, "Shit, this is great!"
She drove her head farther down on Chick's hot cock. He started kissing Lin Che's smooth ass, never going beyond the paler flesh left untanned by her bikini.
The quartet was as one body and its undulations had become an orchestrated piece of music.
Burt was turned on by hair. He loved the feel of all the hair he was touching. The attractive ass just below Lin Che's face, however, called to him and he desired to dp something, anything, with it.
Burt's hand went to his mouth and he smeared saliva on his fingers. He gently rubbed the lubricant around the opening in Polly's rectum.
Slowly he inserted one moist finger into her anus. Again he wetted his finger and applied more of it to her glistening ass. The heat from their bodies was rising and his head began to perspire. Lin Che noticed what he was trying to do and spread Polly's ass to facilitate his finger fucking it. Polly squirmed in anticipation. Once more the saliva was oozing into her asshole. Lin Che had half a thought that they must have done this many times before.
Burt bent his knees. His hand was rubbing white foam from his mouth all around his pulsating cock. Its mammoth head was lowering to the expectant , ass. Lin Che watched his body lower itself like an elevator. She impulsively darted her head forward with an open mouth and closed it around his oversized cockhead. She tried to transfer the moisture from her mouth to his cock.
He couldn't wait to get in her ass and pulled his prick from Lin Che. It dropped to the spread ass cheeks. With his free hand he positioned his sturdy organ at the entrance to Polly's ass. Lin Che's eyes dilated to watch his big cockhead begin to eclipse. Burt's cock was disappearing up her ass. Polly moaned with pleasure.
Chick reached for the breasts rubbing against his stomach. His fingers gently pinched her nipples. He nuzzled his face in the opening between Lin Che's legs. Burt drove his straining dick farther into Polly's asshole. The head made a noise when it slipped beyond her tightest muscle. Lin Che felt the shudder which went through Polly's body.
Burt carefully sent his prick deeper. It went slowly into her smooth cavern. He could feel her interior muscles contracting and expanding. It felt like a talented cunt. At first slowly, then with increased speed, he sent his cock into the body on her knees. He looked down on a delicious sight, woman piled on top of woman with a big-cocked man beneath; all of them using their mouths to bring pleasure to themselves and each other. He speeded the tempo of his fucking.
Burt's thrusts were so strong he sent Polly's whole body forward. Chick's cock was completely out of sight with each movement because Polly let his cock slide into her throat when Burt's strokes sent her forward.
Chick was ready to cum. He conveyed the message with a loud expletive.
"Shit, I'm coming!"
Polly hurried her sucking. She sent her fingers into her cunt and worked them around in a circle. Lin Che released the cheeks of Polly's ass. Her pliable flesh eased around the little bit of Burt's cock which wasn't embedded in Polly's ass. She moved her hand to his pendulous balls, cupping them with a tender touch. She could feel his scrotum magically tightening up. Polly's movements caused her body to rub Lin Che's inflamed breasts with each lunge forward to gobble more of Chick's cock.
Burt was out of his head with the thrill of the sight below him on the bed. God, Lin Che was beautiful His eager gropings and the way she rolled her eyes sent his lust surging through his hot body. For some insane reason he wanted to slap her. It was part of the passion. Instead, he decided on another act.
With deliberate slowness he pulled his ass back, towing his cock out of Polly's tight ass in which it was sheathed. Polly gasped as its swollen head popped into view; Burt reached again for a handful of Lin Che's radiant hair. He wiped his cock clean on it.
Lin Che groaned when she realized how her body was being used. Yet it excited her. The strong man standing over her was breathing hard and his cock was involuntarily jerking. It was a magnificent specimen. She reached up and touched it. Her fingers automatically circled it.
She looked up at Burt. His eyes met hers. He grabbed another handful of hair. He looked sinister. She knew what he wanted and she opened her mouth to oblige him. His reddened prick descended to the level where she could swallow it. Its ballooning head came toward her open mouth. She felt its heat as it touched her luscious lips. It smelled good.
She worked her lips over its head. He drove it deep. She thought she'd gag. He held his hips still but pulled on her hair to bring her head farther down his shaft. The veins on it stood out dramatically. Some of them were tiny red lines, others were sizable blue rivers deepening to purple and running the length of it. The whole thing was hot and determined.
Burt's heart was pounding, he knew he'd come if her tongue wrapped around his cock once more in that tender but strong way. He used her hair as reins and pulled the beauty down his cock.
Chick's throat let forth an eruption which signaled his cock was erupting, too. Polly tightened up as his flood of cum belched out of his cock and occupied her mouth and throat. The cum-lava was so voluminous and his cock so swollen she couldn't swallow and his semen forced its way between her lips and cascaded down her chin onto his pubic hairs.
Lin Che ran her hands gently up and down Polly's thighs and Chick's calves. Burt yanked on the reins. His abdomen was against her face and bending her nose to the side. He held his massive organ firmly down her throat and pulled hard on her stretched hair.
Burt's body shook with tension. Lin Che moved one hand up to cradle his ass. That did it. He came with a rush. Lin Che was out of breath and the added pressure of his cum made her upper body turn bright red. Her eyes watered as spurt after spurt of hot cum flooded her mouth. She made a muffled noise in her throat as she heroically worked her muscles to swallow.
Mercifully, his cock quickly subsided. In a moment it was a petite wrinkled protuberance and slipped simply from her warm lips. Burt let himself fall forward and hang like a limp dummy across her back.
When Chick dropped him off at his car he was very tired and very glad no longer to be in a vehicle driven by a man who couldn't see and who nodded at the wheel. Worse, Chick was the type who got belligerent if you even hinted he was drunk. His excessive drinking was the major reason he was no longer on the force.
The phone was ringing as Burt opened his bachelor apartment door. Who the fuck could be calling me at this hour? It's just after three in the morning, he realized, as he glanced at the clock.
"Hello?"
"Burt, get your uniform on and get over here right away." It was his chief. "What's the emergency?"
"Nothing here, but we've got an emergency call from the assholes across the river."
Burt knew the chief meant New York City; he always referred to the big city as "those assholes across the river." Almost everyone in their little town worked in the Big Apple and the chief resented the fact that they only lived in the small city but did their purchasing and entertaining in New York.
As Burt was wishing he had chosen another line of work, he pulled his uniform over his well-defined legs and buckled on his heavy-laden belt with its paraphernalia. His holster had a side pocket for pens; proving, Burt thought, that the pen was at least as mighty as the sword, if not mightier. He suspected that before his days of active service would be over he'd be carrying some kind of miniaturized tape deck with him, too.
He was at the station house in seven minutes. Bud and Jerry were there, too. It was almost one-quarter of the town's police force.
"Sorry, boys, but those assholes across the river put out an emergency call for personnel with a background in explosives."
"What is the job, Chief," asked Bud, a tall lean easy-going patrolman with thirteen years on the local force.
"Bombs."
All three of the policemen got a sickening feeling in their stomachs. They all had seen service in Vietnam and they knew the kind of terror and human suffering unexpected bomb explosions could cause in civilian centers. Manhattan, crowded with office workers and the innumerable visitors it attracted, could be turned into a sea of blood within a few minutes with just one irresponsible bomber on the loose.
Burt thought back to the training he'd received in the Army. He was a demolition expert. He remembered the terror he'd seen at the landmark tavern on Wall Street when a bomb went off during the lunch hour. He'd received an emergency call from New York then, too. There had been bombs found at the UN building.
The metropolitan police, "New York's Finest," had briefed all surrounding communities police forces that the terror might spread, although they expected the actual bombings to be confined to the biggest population centers.
They listened to the radio as they crossed the George Washington Bridge and headed south toward midtown Manhattan. The city was asleep and the concrete canyons allowed them easy access to the heart of the metropolis. In just a matter of hours the streets they sped through would be clogged with pedestrians and drivers on their way to work. Burt looked out the window and thought what it would be like if suddenly a bomb would explode without warning right in front of that drug store advertising a sale on mouthwash in its window. In front of the store was a bus stop. A few feet away was a newspaper seller's little stand. At, say, eight-thirty in the morning, that piece of sidewalk would be crowded with people. Even a small bomb could not help but injure dozens of innocent pedestrians. What could anyone hope to gain by blowing up and maiming innocent men, women, and children? Especially children, thought Burt.
He fought off the growing tiredness he felt and tried to clear his head. Why did the emergency summons have to come today of all days-he wanted to sleep the whole day through. Jerry suggested they stop for coffee.
"Better get it 'to go', the fellas here will need all the help they can get. We don't want to delay."
Near Lincoln Center, pristine and lovely in the early morning light, they saw a coffee shop which was already open. Burt would have loved to stop for a generous helping of ham and eggs but they had to settle for hot coffee in paper cups and Danish. Bud and Burt had finished theirs by the time they pulled into a public parking lot next to the Midtown North precinct house. Burt noticed that someone who couldn't spell very well had scrawled on the side of the building "Pig Stye." It was fading and Burt surmised it must be several years old, probably dating from the time he was in Vietnam.
How times have changed, he mused to himself; had he not been in the military at the time he probably would have denounced that pointless war himself. As it was, he had been an officer in the U.S. Army and had no choice but to serve even though he could never understand what it was he and his companions, many of whom died there, were fighting for.
It had been experiences like those which had driven him to work with kids in his home town. He'd seen so many of his comrades fall in death before they'd had a chance to live. He knew others would do the same in the generations to come so he tried to make life a little nicer for every kid he came across. He was a Little League coach, he taught swimming, he was a Boy Scout leader, and on weekends when he wasn't otherwise occupied, he'd go over to the local playground and play basketball with kids half his height.
He was tired-exhausted, really-but he ignored his fatigue. Maybe he could do something in Manhattan to help remove the insane bomber from society. That would be helping those kids more than anyting he'd ever done.
A Captain McDonald lined all his substitute cops in rows across the steps of the station house. They were in a variety of different uniforms. Burt recognized four New Jersey communities' shields on the upper arms of some of the men and at least three from New York State. Many of the men were summoned so suddenly that they were not in uniform. McDonald made all of them feel his gratitude.
"We've got a bitch of a problem on our hands, men; we don't know where he'll strike next. We don't know what he's after and we don't have a fuckin' clue as to who he or they are. Hell, it could even be a she."
He looked up and down the rows of young men. Several of them looked as if they weren't old enough to have grown the fashionable moustaches on their faces. He remembered his class at the police academy-every head had been all but shaved. It was the early fifties then and military haircuts were the rule of the day. He'd seen things change. He remembered the ribbing he got in the sixties when he and eight other men had donned women's clothes to catch muggers in Central Park. Things change. Now there were real women on that detail.
He gritted his teeth and looked at the young men, two young for this grisly work, he thought.
"I want to thank you men for coming so promptly. We have an emergency of unparalleled proportions on our hands. In the last six hours we have discovered five bombs planted in this city. We suspect they are the product of one bomb factory but we have no idea where that factory is, who is running it, why it's there, or what the objectives are that the bomber hopes to achieve. We're in a hell of a spot. Worse, we don't know how many more bombs there are, the ones we've found all have short timing devices and would have gone off some time between eight a.m. and ten a.m. It is quite possible for this town to turn into a sea of blood by noon today."
CHAPTER TWO
McDonald put his new staff to work reading copies of the report from the detail investigating the explosion at the airport. Burt found the detailed reports uninformative. He figured, because of the number of bombs lying around town, they were all the work of the same person or persons and so well made that no clues would be found. All they had definitely concluded so far was that the device had been placed in a public locker.
The mayor of the city had ordered all public lockers in the whole town closed. Burt remembered when he was in the military, having a three-day pass and dashing with two other soldiers to the Big Apple to taste its high life. They had stowed their gear in lockers and every day went there and changed clothes, got their shaving gear and freshened up.
They didn't bother to rent a hotel room because they figured if any one of them got lucky he could rent his own room when he needed it, why should the three of them share one room? Inevitably when one of them wanted to be alone with some chick in it, the others would be in the way.
Soldiers on the town this weekend would not be able to use the lockers as their base of operations.
Burt was having his third cup of coffee while waiting for a car to take the experts to the lab to examine the two latest explosives that had been located. Suddenly the door of the room opened and an overweight red-faced cop (who had been reassigned to a desk job because his health was no longer good enough for him to pound a beat) burst in with a report.
"Hey, George, a kid out here's reporting a rape."
"Grogan, we're on bomb detail; take it to a matron."
"I know fuckin' procedures, but the man on the beat investigated the site, it happened in an elevator, and he found a timing device on the floor."
Every man in the room was on his feet in an instant. They rushed out of the office and followed the roly-poly cop to another room where a young girl was obviously just getting over the shock of what had happened to her.
She turned out to be a Southern girl who had just arrived in town and who had been in her apartment only a week. She was pretty composed, thanks to the intelligent and patient work of the matron on the new rape squad.
Burt's heart went out to the young girl the moment he saw the mascara streaks on her cheeks. She was a pretty young thing, probably eighteen or nineteen, he could understand why the men had let their lust run wild when they encountered her.
Bud and Jerry went with the officer to examine the timing device found in the elevator. Others began copying down the description of the rapists to put out an all-points bulletin for their apprehension. Burt sat down next to the frightened girl and introduced himself.
Her name was Susan and she had lovely eyes, in addition to her other charms-glowing auburn hair, shapely legs, trim hips, and a delectable waist. Her breasts were shapely and moved softly whenever she turned her body. The only distraction affecting her beauty was the red around her eyes and her nose which was all swollen from crying.
"I'm really not hurt, just shaken up. The doctor said a sedative and a good night's sleep and I'll be fine, physically."
"Before they give you the sedative, Susan, I'd like to ask you a few questions. It's very important," said Burt in a consoling manner.
"I gave the sergeant the fullest description I could of the men."
"No, I'm not interested in the rapists, I'm on the bomb squad. Did you know they found an explosive's timing device in the elevator when the officers went to investigate?"
"No. Oh, God, you mean they might be involved in those horrible bombings?"
She seemed more scared than ever. Burt took her by the wrist and patted her hand.
"It's not likely, bombers don't have time for other types of crime, but in this emergency, we can't let any lead go unchecked."
The matron interrupted them with a cup of broth for the shaken girl.
As she drank the hearty brew he continued in a soft voice to reassure her and to try and pull from her confused brain any little bit of information which might help them locate the two suspects.
"Can you tell me everything that happened, every detail, every word that was said? I need all the little straggly ends of detail which might, when put together, add up to something. Let's go into the captain's office, there's a couch there and you can stretch out and relax. Try to give me all the details you can."
"But I've told it twice already."
"Yes, but those officers were after the men, I'm after something else; what, I don't know, but any nuance of information might be just the link we need."
"I'll try, Officer Showalter."
"Call me Burt."
She finished her broth and allowed him to guide her to the captain's couch. Burt tucked a military blanket around her body and offered her a cigarette.
"I don't smoke."
"I'd offer you a joint, but perhaps that's not the most prudent thing to do here in the station house."
"I appreciate the thought, anyway."
While the computers whirled and the radios transmitted report after report and prowl cars cruised up and down the streets of the East Side and the West Side, officers checked the identification of thousands of men. Telephone operators in the police department and fire departments recorded every lame-brained call that came in, nothing could be overlooked.
Burt listened to the story the victimized girl related.
"I live in what was once an elegant apartment house near Riverside Drive on the Upper West Side. Now it's owned by a cheap old koot who won't make any repairs until you get the city inspectors after him-you know the type.
"As a result of his penny-pinching and indifference to the well-being of the tenants who are making him rich, the elevators are in rotten shape. You have to wait three, four, maybe five minutes for the thing to clank its way to the lobby before it can take you upstairs. I live on the twelfth floor and more than once I've given up waiting for the thing and climbed the stairs.
"Last night, though, I was too tired to climb, and f waited. I could see through the slit in its doors that it came up from the basement, but I didn't pay much attention.
"When its tired doors slid open I was so exhausted I stepped in without looking up. If I had, I would have seen the two Puerto Rican youths in the back of the elevator. By the time I did see them I was half way into the elevator and I stayed. Even though they were staring at me and not registering that bored indifference I've come to expect from Manhattan elevator passengers."
Burt listened to her narrative, looking for clues. The doors had closed behind her and she pushed the button for her floor. The ancient engine moaned as the box-like car bounced back and forth in its ascent to the twelfth floor. Casually she was aware of the young men behind her shifting their weight. It surprised her to have one of them suddenly standing at her side, looking at her.
Being an out-of-towner, she responded politely. She smiled. The dark-eyed youth was quick to press his advantage. His mouth spread into a big grin and a mouthful of white even teeth smiled back at her. Instantly, his hands were on her wrists and that smiling mouth was pressed against hers.
She tensed but he increased the pressure of his face against hers and she automatically bent backward. That was when she felt the second youth against her back. His hands were unbuttoning the three buttons that held her cotton halter. She tried to cry out. The pressure of his firm lips against her mouth prevented anything but a muffled moan to be heard. It flashed across her mind that she was going to be raped but that thought was surpassed by the realization that the one in back of her was unbuttoning rather than ripping the garment off her. As a result she wasn't taken over with a fear or panic. She was angry.
She kicked back and hit a shin with her platform shoe. She kicked backward again and made a useless effort to free her wrists. The curly-haired young man pulled his mouth away from her and smiled.
"Oh, babe!"
He smiled broadly and brought his face back to hers, softly murmuring "buena. "
As she squirmed and kicked to get away from them, Susan thought rape should be rougher, the tenderness of their handling didn't seem like what she'd imagined it would be.
The Spanish shawl she had over her shoulders was on the floor and the halter was hanging from her neck. The hands that had undone it were flat against her sides and sliding toward her soft breasts. A new energy rose in her and she bent and twisted to get away, but their strong bodies had her sandwiched between them.
The one in front still held her wrists by her sides and was aggressively running his tongue between her lips. The man she hadn't seen yet slid his hands to her breasts. At his first touch she bent her knees and sunk to the floor, it was the only direction she could move. The one kissing her lost his balance and fell over, but the one in back went, down with her and kept hold of her around the waist.
Susan's legs were bent under her and the youth holding on to her was in a sitting position with his legs straight out in front on either side of her. His companion was getting to his feet when she opened her mouth to scream. His hand flashed from her waist to cover her mouth and because he pulled her head back, she was unable to utter a sound.
The youth who'd kissed her was quickly on his feet and ignoring Susan as he took a screwdriver from his pocket and did something with the elevator buttons. The car stopped. It was between the eleventh and twelfth floors. Oh, God, she thought, the elevators often get stuck. No one will think anything unusual if it isn't working.
He replaced the screwdriver in his pocket and turned to face the petrified Susan held in the relentless grip of her captor. Neither of them noticed the timing device which came out of his pocket and rolled into the corner.
"You're pretty and smart, too, yes? You won't make any noise, will you? I would have to make you keep quiet and that would hurt. You be smart, huh, no scream," warned her seducer.
He then undid his belt with Walt Disney figures stamped into the leather, painted in pink and green and blue. Susan couldn't help registering that he was dressed in the height of Bethesda Fountain fashion: his faded blue jeans and Arrowsmith shoes were in pastel colors which were with it that summer.
As Pluto and Snow White slipped through the belt loops of his jeans and his zipper slid down, Susan was horrified to find herself wondering what kind of underwear he had on. It was bright yellow nylon with a navy band on the legs and waist. Black curly hair rose from behind the material and snaked up to his navel which was a tiny indenture on a flat smooth stomach. His sense of color was good.
The yellow nylon was bulging against the strain of his swelling cock. She could just see the outline of his circumcision through the material before he slipped the bright garment down to his thighs and his organ flopped into full view. Susan didn't see more because he was instantly flat on his stomach and pulling her legs from under her.
His fingers had pulled her hip huggers over her well-formed buttocks and they were wrinkled at her knees when she was able to scratch the hand over her mouth enough to have him yank it away. Again, before she could scream, it was in her hair and her head was jerked backward to a painful degree. The young rapist in front of her quickly crawled on his knees so he was astride her and looking down at her up-turned face. She could feel his penis against her breast.
"Don't be foolish, muchacha. We are gentlemen. We are not interested in hurting you. Be smart, huh?"
She felt something cold against her throat and realized it was the screwdriver. She knew what he meant and decided further struggle was foolish.
He scooted backward and knelt over her trembling body. He had a stern look on his face and his eyes seemed to be questioning her, as if he was waiting to see if she was going to cooperate. The grip on her hair relaxed a bit and there was a pause while they waited to see what she was going to do.
She kept looking at him and then her eyes betrayed her. Curiosity caused her to glance at his erect cock. He understood the meaning of her involuntary glance and broke into a huge smile. Slowly he reached for the fabric of her halter. Even more slowly he moved it over her breasts and let it hang over her right arm.
It was the first time her breasts had ever been exposed to the view of someone she didn't know and her embarrassment was total. The thought came to her that nothing worse could happen to her. Broke, alone, surrounded by filth and avarice in New York, and now she was being raped in an elevator by two Puerto Rican punks. This was the absolute pits.
Anything that happened now would have to be an improvement. The thought steeled her and she subdued her swelling tears. She'd be damned if she'd lose her cool. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
Susan set her jaw and let her body relax.
The young man, he was about her age, let his smile take on the characteristics of a sneer and he nodded his head up and down.
"She's smart."
He handed the screwdriver to the one behind her and casually pulled her paisley panties down to her knees. He took one leg out of her pants and panties. This gave him the mobility he needed to spread her legs. It unsettled Susan to be conscious of the softness of his touch.
He was lifting her hips and sliding her flat on the floor, her head now rested between the thighs of his companion. She could feel the heat radiating from his muscular legs which served as her pillow. The one facing her crawled up her body and moved his legs between hers. Propped up on his elbow, he guided his instrument to her protruding vulva. It searched back and forth for the proper angle and then slowly moved into her. He's being awfully gentle with me, she thought.
It wasn't the ripping and tearing that she'd always thought constituted a rape. As the head of his fat sex organ began to part the resigned lips of her cunt, she felt that familiar tinge. She was excited. Her heart was beating like a drum, it had been since their first moves; she knew this was sexual excitement!
She hoped they weren't aware of it. That would be an insult as bad as being raped, to let them know she was aroused by their masculinity.
As his firm organ slid farther into her body and the warmth of his torso came closer to her own, she became apprehensive that she couldn't hide her excitement. Why was she so sexual? God, why couldn't she have been a nun or something?
His erect prick was completely inside her. He exhaled. His breath was sweet and soft against her cheek. She liked it. His body was tightly muscled, he was in perfect physical condition and that made his breath sweet to smell.
Without realizing it, she was exhaling, too. His cheek was softly sliding back and forth against hers, a gentle contact of two soft young textures totally appreciative of each other. His cock was doing the same thing inside her body, sliding back and forth, gently arousing the tissue it touched as it slid. A magic lubricant divinely appeared to prepare the path of his firm straight cock as it explored new regions within her.
A church aisle decorated for a wedding came to her mind. She thought of her vagina as the aisle. The lubricant was a flower girl dropping rose petals on a white cloth as the billowing gown slowly advanced farther and farther up the aisle. Her full white skirt filling the aisle was his cock, its thickness occupying the whole opening of her vagina. He moved farther into her. Each nerve ending was like a pew and as his cock passed each one a new thrill ricocheted through the temple of her body.
Her hands were around his back, and she was lifting her hips to meet his forward thrusts before she realized it. He was murmuring something and his body twisted to let his mouth engulf the reddish tip of her pink breast.
The dark tones of his smooth skin contrasted beautifully against the pink and white softness of her breast. The sensations that were rampaging through her body as his mouth tugged gently at her nipple were like someone had suddenly opened shutters in a dark room and let blazing daylight explode into it. She opened her eyes as his energetic pumping increased in tempo.
It was then that she realized her temples were being massaged ever so softly; so softly she hadn't been aware it was going on. The second youth was soothing any hurt she might be feeling. He bent down and kissed her brow. Susan was all confused. This wasn't supposed to happen in a rape. What were these Puerto Ricans like? They raped but they didn't tear clothes or hurt their victims?
The urgency of the prying penis within her dispelled any thoughts at all, and all she could sense was the jerking her hips were doing. He was fucking faster now, driving his cock faster. His mouth was off her firm breast and he was holding his shoulders and head high above her as he let his hips do all the moving, going quicker and quicker in jabbing assaults.
He was taking quick short breaths as it moved faster with a dizzying monotony that surpassed every other feeling as she tried to meet and anticipate each thrust. He gritted his teeth, squinted his eyes, and held his breath as the fat vein on the underside of his cock thickened and a stream of hot flood threw itself down the passage and burst like a volcanic eruption into her vagina.
Involuntary jerks convulsed his body and a nerve reaction made his whole frame shudder. Gradually he went limp. He kissed her on the cheek and instantly was on his feet tucking his penis into his yellow nylon briefs.
Susan was still befogged by the fucking she'd received. She'd liked it. She knew she'd liked it. Oh, god, it was good. Why was it over so soon?
But it wasn't over. The other young man was turning her over on her stomach. She didn't know what was happening. The question of what was happening was all over her face as she looked up at him. She hadn't even seen what he looked like yet. He had held her inert while his buddy fucked her and he had soothed her during the rape. He'd cradled her head and petted her hair but she hadn't seen what he looked like.
She looked straight into his face as he knelt with her face resting on his knees.
He was beautiful. Where his gentle companion was ordinary looking, albeit attractive, this rapist was not typical at all. He was taller than most Puerto Ricans, had a sensitive and classic face and raven hair cut perfectly to set off his features. His torso seemed long and his carriage was aristocratic, she could tell that even though he was on his knees.
His long slender fingers were brushing a lock of hair from her forehead and he was smiling with a great understanding in his eyes.
"You do not love me," he said, "and I am very conceited. I want a woman to love me. Without that I do not want to give my all. I make love very well and I hope someday to make you happy to make love to me, but this is not the place. Beautiful muchacha mia, I am not perfect. I want to cum. I want to spill my seed. I am a man. So you suck me, yes?"
All Susan could think of was the soft brown eyes and the elegant features. She thought he was magnificent looking and she was actually anxious to be under him. He had a strange sense of ethics and didn't want to fuck her, yet he wanted to reach a climax in her mouth. Was he crazy? His hand still stroked her hair and his soft look was caressing her.
"You make love to my cock."
He took his hand off her hair and undid his jeans. All Susan could see was his cock, hard and pointing straight at her head. His hands were under her arms and he dragged her forward. Then he held her hair above her face so it wouldn't brush the dirty floor.
"Suck."
Susan had never had her mouth on a man's sex organ before. She'd touched one or two but never practiced fellatio. She'd often wondered if she could. Other girls had admitted they'd done it.
"Now."
His stern command brought Susan back to reality. She was in the hands of men who would rape a girl in an elevator, and she shouldn't trust a handsome face. This was an attack and she'd better cooperate or she'd probably get hurt.
She closed her eyes and put her mouth on the tip of the jutting flesh. It didn't have any taste. When she had some of it in her mouth she realized she didn't know what to do with it. Suck, he'd said. She thought of an ice cream soda and pretended his cock was a straw. She pursed her lips and tried to draw in air. Where was the air to go?
"Up and down," came his instruction.
He didn't sound impatient, but it was definitely an order. She tried to slide her mouth farther down his shaft. It was too dry. She felt his hand pulling her hair straight up. She opened her mouth and raised her head. With his free hand he swathed saliva all over his palm and then wrapped it around his cock, moistening it so her parched mouth could slide along its erect flesh.
Susan thought this was to replace the fluid her own body so generously manufactured when she was being fucked in a normal fashion. Homosexuals, she thought, must have a problem.
Her seducer's hand pushed her head down on his rampant rod. She licked the inside of her mouth to increase the moisture it desperately needed if she was to do what he ordered.
Her lips parted and the head of his cock, it seemed gigantic-fat and bulbous-disappeared between her lips. This time it slid a little more easily. She tried to slide her mouth down the length of it, but the fat head hit the back of her mouth.
Her chin was against the zipper of his pants. She felt the cold metal of his belt buckle on her forehead. She backed off. His palm on the back of her head drove her forward again. She started moving in rhythm, as if her head was a rocking chair. Back and forth she went.
"Tighten your lips."
She didn't even think about it. She did it.
His hand relaxed on her head and she found her own hands were laying their palms against his buttocks. She was caressing them the way he caressed her hair. She arched her head higher and pushed down farther on his big, protruding cock as she tried to take even more of it into her mouth.
She was operating at a steady rhythm, subconsciously trying to duplicate the rhythm a man would develop when he was making love to her. She wished now she'd gone to see "Deep Throat" when she'd had a chance. She knew she couldn't take the whole length of this cock, but for no reason at all she wanted to think about doing a good job. It wouldn't go any deeper but she wanted to increase the sensation. With that she started moving her head in a circular motion. It was easy to do. She did it faster.
"Eyee!"
His utterance meant he liked it. She stopped doing it. She remembered Corinne Calvert saying in an interview the way to keep a man is to find out what he likes-and then not give him too much of it.
Her neck began to hurt after a few more up and down movements. He must have realized this because he pulled her face to his crotch and raised himself from a squat to a kneeling position.
Susan had to sit on her ankles to keep his hard cock in her mouth. To keep her balance, she grabbed his thighs and began working her head back and forth, then around as she strained to make him reach a climax.
His body was tensing and his hands cupped around her head. As an uncontrollable spasm grabbed his body he moved his hips forward and held her head tightly as he thrust his expanding penis deep into her throat. It was shooting its juice into her throat so quickly she was unable to breathe. Gobs of his fluid were gagging her but still his firm hands held her head to his abdomen. Still his hot cock spat its cum into her.
Susan pushed with all her force against his pelvis bone to get her mouth off his organ. She couldn't breathe. The convulsions his cock was going through slowed; abruptly one gigantic spasm jerked him. When another didn't follow it, he pulled his elongated and rapidly-softening penis from her mouth. She was aware of the sound of machinery. The elevator must be moving.
He stood up, quickly fastening his pants. Susan was on all fours, gagging and trying to spit up the gluey product that was gagging her. Her halter top hung from her neck and as she gagged, spit, and tried to take in great lungfuls of air. Her halter was covered with his white sticky cum.
Susan opened her eyes as she heard the grinding metal of the ancient elevator door open. The two of them were between her and the door.
Her hair hanging over her face, her pants around her knees, she looked up to see the one who'd fucked her pulling a Boy Scout knife out of his pocket and straightening out its blade. Her heart stopped.
He adroitly swung his leg over her and stood with her head in the vise of his knees. She thought he was going to stab her in the back.
"I won't tell anybody, please don't kill me!" She felt nothing. "Please don't kill me."
Then she did feel something, his hand on her ass.
She felt his knife blade against her leg. He cut the side of her paisley panties and pulled the material away from her.
He swung his leg over her and moved to the door. The elevator was still moving. Susan looked up from the floor; he was stuffing her panties into his trousers.
"I always take a souvenir, muchacha."
"We would not kill you; we are not murderers, pretty one."
The elevator doors slid open in their slow metallic grind and the two Puerto Ricans shot out of the cage into the lobby. The one who fucked her was out the door into the street as Susan, still on all fours, looked after them through her disarrayed hair. At the street door the elegant slender one who'd put his cock into her mouth turned, smiled, blew her a kiss and said, "I hope we meet again."
An all-points bulletin on the two rapists had been zinging through police radios within minutes of Susan giving their descriptions. Nothing she had said gave any hint as to why the guy had a timing device. Fortunately New York's Finest had the suspect in custody an hour later.
The moment Burt saw him he realized he had to be the same person. He was tall, elegant, natural with intent intelligent eyes. After Susan had identified him he became cooperative, probably figuring that was the safest way to keep his face from being redecorated by persuasive tactics.
"Where did you get this?"
"I stole it."
"Where?"
"It's just a part to a cheap flashlight, I'll give it back."
The intenseness of the boy's face told Burt the kid didn't really know what it was. Burt asked his first question.
"Look, son, right now you're only wanted on the rape charge; this item is important to another investigation. Come clean with us and you'll save yourself from being involved in another crime I'm sure you are not part of."
The city cops sneered at the out-of-town, and small-town at that, cop who was being so polite in his questioning. The suspect, from El Barrio, wasn't used to a policeman asking a question that politely either. He looked at the cop in the strange uniform and studied his face. The cop seemed on the level. He had only stolen the damn thing after all; how much could it be worth? He decided it was best to trust the decent cop.
"Okay, I copped it from the apartment of a broad I fucked. She's married so I'm on the Q.T, savvy? Her old man's at work by now. The address is 838 Park Avenue, apartment 65. Her name's Charmaine."
Burt stopped scribbling on his notebook and was on his feet. The Puerto Rican youth, all defense gone, pleaded with Burt with his eyes. Burt waited for him to speak.
"Look, man, when you confront her with it, can't you say something like, 'We found it on his person', do you have to come right out and say, 'He stole it'? Like she's been, you know, generous to me. I don't want her to hate me. Could you kind of finesse it?"
Burt was in a squad car headed for Park Avenue in thirty seconds.
CHAPTER THREE
"You may go, Ludmila," said the Park Avenue matron to her aged European maid. The older woman trod across the living room on orthopedic shoes and closed the door behind her.
Burt sat on the edge of the matron's couch with his cap in his hands, moving it in tiny circles. The room was a show place and so was Charmaine Van Zoot. She moved with more grace than any woman he'd ever seen. She was tall, fully built, and obviously took a great deal of pride in her body because she looked as if she exercised every morning and night and spent hours each day perfecting her makeup to make it look as if she wasn't wearing any.
She slunk into a chair and arranged the lace folds of her peignoir about her shapely legs.
Beneath the fragile garment she was wearing a floor-length satin nightgown. It was cut quite low in front, so low it was obvious that the gown had been manufactured, not to keep a lady warm at night, but to show off her body before she got into bed. The nightgown was a success, at least the way she wore it, it was.
Charmaine Van Zoot stretched her long legs so the shiny fabric caught the light. Burt couldn't help but notice her shapely form. She purred.
"I'll come directly to the point," Burt began.
"Oh, must you, officer? Couldn't I offer you a cup of coffee or a drink; so what if you're on duty, I won't snitch."
"Thanks, no, time is important."
"As you wish, you stubborn man, you."
She was toying with the lace of her peignoir. It unnerved Burt and he held his hat at an angle that he hoped would mask his growing hard-on; he considered giving in to distraction unprofessional.
Burt quickly camouflaged his embarrassment by diving into the details of why he was there at ten in the morning, waking the lovely big-breasted beauty from her slumber. He related how the suspect had given her name and address as the place where he got the timing device.
Her expression changed but little as the suspect's name was mentioned. Burt realized Charmaine Van Zoot didn't want it to be known she was making use of gigolos, so he was as subtle and roundabout as he could manage.
Even though he was going out of his way to avoid the sexual nature of her relationship with the young Puerto Ricans, he had to find out how she came to have a timing device in her apartment for the kid to steal.
Charmaine gave a deep sigh and faced Burt squarely.
"Okay, officer, here's the story. I was a show girl, you know, the kind they have in Vegas and Miami, all tits and sequins, know what I mean? I had nice clothes, got asked to a lot of fancy places, the whole schmeer. got me? I got to like it. Anyone will tell you money is nicer than a lack of money. So I got to seeing the richer guys, not the best looking or the studs, I went for the charge plates, catch my drift?
"Along comes Huburt Van Zoot who takes me everywhere in his limousine, gives the most luxurious jewels, arranges picnics on the best yachts and, in short, sweeps me off my feet. He's seventy-three at the time.
"The wedding was discreet but the headlines weren't. Suddenly out of the woodwork crawled every Tom, Dick, and Harry I ever knew. Van Zoot was no dummy and he knew I was being shaken down so he hired a cop, a private cop, to protect me.
"The bodyguard was thirty and Van Zoot was seventy-four. You don't look dumb, you can imagine what happened. One day Van Zoot comes into the changing room by our pool at an unaccustomed time and-voila! There's his young bride getting it up the ass from Gus, her strapping bodyguard. Van Zoot gets a heart attack on the spot, topples over into the swimming pool, and by the time Gus can get him out, it's too late.
"Suddenly, instead of me, as all the newspapers implied, turning into the Merry Widow and blazing a trail across the jet set heavens, what happens. I'm controlling interest in a dozen fuckin' corporations. My life isn't my own! I'm at this meeting, I'm at that meeting. I have to sit on this board, that board, I have to chair this fund-raising drive; Christmas comes and I have to arrange a traditional party, traditional, mind you, for the orphans at the Van Zoot Foundling Home. Right now I have two secretaries if you please, and they're over-worked!"
"Why don't you put your holdings in the hands of a manager and lead your own life?"
"I know how those blood-suckers operate! Too many times a stage-door Johnny who is a banker or a lawyer or, what do they call themselves now?-'Investment Counselors'. They've wined me and dined me and presented me with stocking stuffers from Cartier. I'd get baubles like an emerald necklace because it's St. Patrick's Day or amethyst bracelets because it's the opening of Lent or something. All from guys like that.
"Once I got the deed to a coal mine because it happened to be Groundhog Day. Ha! You think those guys were spending their own money? Don't be naive! Once they have your power of attorney you can kiss your kitty goodbye. No, thank you, if I want to hang on to my nest egg left me by sweet old Van Zootie, I have to manage it myself. Do you know I had to be fitted for glasses, I do so much fuckin' reading nowadays?"
Her voice suddenly modulated to a soft sophisticated purr again. "So you see, dear, young, well-built Officer Showalter, I didn't really have time to let a man pursue me till he catches me, n'est-ce pas?
"Gus was still around then, before he ran off with a topless dancer. He did what he could to keep me from climbing the walls. I must admit he was diligent in performing his tasks, but nothing lasts forever. Thank God before he left he put me onto a good thing.
"He had a friend, she was called The Bird Woman. The Bird Woman had breezed in from Chicago about 1960. and bought herself a town house in Murray Hill, if you please. She also bought a cigar store directly in back of her town house.
"She waited two years and then had the wall of her basement knocked out and a tunnel put through under her garden. Don't look so shocked, I'm telling you the truth. The Bird Woman connected the back of her open 24-hours-a-day cigar store with her town house. She then opened the swingiest whorehouse in town. Cool-there was never any traffic in front of her house; she was a respectable lady living in style.
"The cigar store was doing a land office business day and night. The fellas came in through the tunnel and spent as much time as they wanted, or could afford, sampling the town house's pleasures.
Hell, the place even has a swimming pool in the basement, which, if you stop to think about it, is the dumbest place of all to construct a swimming pool in Manhattan.
"I mean this island is solid rock, isn't it? To dig a pool you have to blast. That's why new apartment houses are putting their pools on the roof; it's cheaper. Of course I'd hate to have the apartment directly under the pool come the leaky season, but life isn't all skittles and beer, is it."
Burt was fascinated by this bewitching woman with the big tits and the curvaceous hips. The enormity of the problem facing the police was such that he couldn't take any more time to listen to her chat. He needed information.
"Mrs. Van Zoot, your biography is fascinating, but I must know about that timing device-where did you get it?"
"Now you won't be cross, and most of all you won't screw up a good thing? I must have your word on that or else I won't cooperate."
"All I'm interested in is that device; I don't give a continental damn about anything else. I'm not a city cop, I'm from Jersey. I was called in because I'm a bomb expert."
"Okay, luscious, I'll squeal, but, by God, if you cause that place to be raided, I'll come after you with acid! Now I'm trusting you.
"The Bird Woman had the best girls in the country, except for a few in circulation in and about Washington, but that's another story; she likes to keep her clients supplied with the best pussy available; that's good business, right? So what happens? We get an epidemic of Hong Kong flu and of course half her staff is down with Le Grippe. By this time she and I have become friends. She calls me and hints that she needs expert help. What do you do for a friend? Well, hell, this way I could get a lot of nookie without spending time seducing some stud, so I go down there and take over one of the rooms.
"I worked a whole weekend and stayed till Tuesday afternoon. During this sojourn I got a little sore-you don't mind my being so blunt, do you? You seem a little green around the gills."
"I'm green with the jealousy I feel for those, er, clients."
"Oh, yeah? You know something, sexy, green isn't your color. Maybe I should do something to take that color off your skin. Replace it with a healthy rosy glow, the kind you get from exercise. What do you say to that?"
"Any other time, Mrs. Van Zoot...."
"Ut, ut!-None of that Mrs. crap, call me Charmaine, or something that smacks of the barn yard, I get off on verbal put-downs from sensuous men. How many times has a woman told you your neck is sexy?"
"None, er, Charmaine, but I'm on an important mission. This bombing thing has the whole city...."
"Okay, you dedicated dick, I think we can come to terms. This way, please."
Charmaine rose like a queen and gracefully undulated to her bedroom, turning around and beckoning Burt to follow her. Down the hall and through the door she led him to a sleeping chamber out of the Arabian nights. Burt gasped when he saw it.
"Gaudy, isn't it, but I love it!"
She expansively spread her arms and displayed the room. It consisted of a king-sized bed elevated from the floor on a dais covered in thick carpeting. Its headboard was an intricately carved Oriental scene of pleasure showing some god or other enjoying, as she explained, "all the pleasures of the earth." Above the fancy carving were yards of heavy brocade in alluring wines and maroons. Directly above the bed was a crown made out of wood which acted as the central point for all the fabric to come together.
"Watch!" she said as she pushed a button at the side of the headboard.
While he watched with his jaw hanging open, Burt saw the crown slide toward the wall and the draperies fold into festoons. When the crown was through sliding along its track a mirror the size of the bed itself was revealed directly overhead.
"See, I like to get my money's worth from the studs I pay to play with me. I'm a selfish broad, I admit it, but honey-no one's ever claimed he was short changed in my bed!"
"Charmaine, I haven't got time to dally here, attractive as the offer is."
"Look, Big Boy Blue, you have no choice. Unless you take advantage of me, I won't tell you anything. Now fair is fair, I give you information, you give me some nice New Jersey dick's dick."
She pulled her peignoir off her shoulders and let it slide to the ground in a heap.
"Come here and take this rag off me."
"Charmaine...."
"No nookie, no knowledge."
"Shit, you're a ball buster, aren't you?"
Charmaine looked very pleased with herself and kind of winked as she responded, in a slow seductive way, "Yeah!"
Burt stepped forward and took the top of her expensive negligee in his two fists and pulled them apart so hard that she momentarily lost her footing. The sexy gown ripped in half under his forceful tear. She was standing naked with the pieces of fabric like soft clouds at her feet next to her sumptuous bed.
"You're a goddamn castrating bitch."
"What else are you going to do about it, copper?"
His hands were instantly on her hips, pulling her to him. His mouth had thoroughly explored hers by the time he let her breathe.
"Would you like a drink?" she asked when she was free.
"No!"
His long arms wrapped around her and as they kissed his big hands wandered all over her back and ass.
"Yeah, you're fine."
He went through her hair like a raiding Indian.
"Wait, wait a minute," she begged. She pulled something he couldn't see from the night table and then brought her mouth slowly to his. His tongue entered her mouth. It only took a moment before she responded with a slight tugging with her mouth. He added suction of his own. Her hands left his body and brought whatever it was she'd taken from the night table to her nostril. "Inhale this, but not too much." It was an aluminum cylinder about two or three inches long. "What is it?"
"You'll see."
"I ... I don't think .
He put it in his nostril while his thumb blocked his other nostril.
"Just a little. Let me have some more."
She drew her breath in through her nose. His mouth was all over hers again and she felt limp. His strong arms held her tightly. She felt like she was going through the air! She actually felt she was floating; then she realized she was because he was carrying her to her bed.
He knelt down with her in his arms and lay her on the mattress still kissing her firmly. Burt was stretched out beside her; she was completely relaxed. Everywhere his big hands moved she felt downright good.
Her deep sigh and the willing angle of her body told him his timing had been perfect. He ran his tongue over her neck, blew in her ear, even tongued her ear. Quite slowly, he approached her bare breasts. He wet his fingertip and touched the side of her breast.
Almost instantly, Charmaine's nipple hardened under his tiny massage. He planted his face between her breasts while she brought her hands into his hair and allowed his sensuous lips to wander over her breasts and anchor themselves on her swelling nipples. A fire burned within her as he placed a single finger against her lips. She was kissing it and trying to suck it into her mouth when he added a second finger.
Both fingers traced back and forth across her lips. Then a third joined them. They moved on her lips as if they were playing piano keys. Delicately, his long soft fingers moved across the contours of her face. His lips and tongue dragged themselves from breast to breast and then-explored her neck, taking tiny nibbles and coming to rest over her jugular vein. The warmth of his mouth resting on her large vein drove heat through her.
"Oh, Copper, un, un, un."
He raised himself up like a cobra and stood erect above her letting her stare up at his long torso. He began unbuttoning the two buttons that closed his shirt at the waist and drew the tails of it out of his trousers. He tossed it to the side without taking his eyes off her. He stood up, his long figure exaggerated by the angle at which she was viewing him. The bulge in his pants was impressive. He stared at her while he unzipped his fly. The tight-fitting uniform pants slid down to leave his muscular legs exposed.
Burt stepped out of his pants on long lean legs and dropped them on top of his shirt. He pulled off his shorts, letting his hard cock bounce. For a moment Charmaine thought it was hairy, but then realized it merely had' pronounced blue veins entwined all around its length.
"I'm warm," he smiled.
"I'm hot," she grinned in return.
"How hot?"
"Hot enough to share everything I have with you."
"That's the temperature I like."
He smiled broadly, and, Charmaine thought, more tenderly than before. He raised his underwear to his face and sniffed it.
"It's a little sweaty. My cock's been hard since I got here. You excite me, so it's your doing that I'm all worked up like this. Smell it."
He tossed his underwear aside. She surprised him by reaching for the shorts and holding them to her nostrils while she inhaled. Before she could get them off her face he was lying on top of her. His face was just above hers and whispering very softly.
"My cock is going to slide into you in a minute. Get used to the pressure of my body and my smell."
He kissed her through the fabric, pressing it against her mouth and nose. What a mind-blowing experience! He was right-it did excite her. If he was entering her mouth with his tongue and maybe his cock and penetrating her cunt with his prick, why shouldn't every other physical phenomenon be shared?
He rubbed his face all over hers through the veil of his masculine-scented skivvies.
Gradually his aroused libido caused him to crawl backward and move his chin up and down the furry mound of her cunt. His tongue began to forage in the soft folds of her opening; all the while his sensitive fingers cruised back and forth across her round ass.
Charmaine let her legs part gradually.
She felt him putting the metal cylinder in her hand. She clasped it eagerly, pulling the sweet-smelling garment from her face and, as her legs parted, further unscrewed the metal capsule and placed it against her nostril, closing her finger over the other.
Charmaine took in so much of it that it was just short of making her cough. A dizzy spell started. Burt reached for the small chamber and its exhilarating gas. She could feel his hands putting it to his nose and then his face resting on her swelling cunt.
His tongue enthusiastically worked its way between the folds of her vagina. He stuck his tongue way out and fished in her soft flesh, sucking with his strong mouth as he delved. He rode up and down inside her with his moist tongue. The secretions of her body were beginning to make her labias wet and slippery. He increased his explorations. Every twist and turn felt like a brand new thrill to her.
Burt's fingers were curling her hairs around themselves. Her hands went to her breasts and she fondled her hard nipples and pinched them slightly, causing throbs of passion to course through her lovely body. Her breathing was heavy and as his expert tongue slid from her opening, deeper and deeper into her womanly folds, she let short throat-deep sighs slide from her mouth into the air.
His sucking mouth enveloped the area around her clit and then his tongue deliberately touched it. Tip to tip, it rubbed. He made strong short sucks and pulled her kriob of nerve ends toward his teeth. He worked his mouth like a rabbit's as his hands wound around her hips and slid over her stomach.
"It's so good!"
Charmaine managed to get the words out between short breaths. Her breasts were exploding with the joy in her body.
He had his whole mouth at the top of her cunt, his face lost between her smooth thighs. His full lips were sucking intently and his teeth touched her titillated clitoris.
Her body began rolling from side to side and her fluid dripped out of her steaming hot cunt. He arched his back and with his strong hands drew her hips into the air without taking his mouth off her pussy. His tongue kept up a constant sandpaper action across her sensitive bud.
This angle made it easier to put strong pressure on her cunt with his face as he buried his busy mouth in her hair. Charmaine was squeezing her breasts so that her finger marks showed red against her golden flesh.
Abruptly, Burt drew his face away and panted for breath as he said-
"Now it's time to fuck the shit out of you."
Instantly, her back was on the bed again. She couldn't tell how, but all at once her legs were in the air. Before she could think, he had grasped his arms around her knees and was sliding his stiff prick into her flesh. He slid it in deeply, as far as it would go!
"God Almighty! Copper!"
Charmaine let out an exclamation of passion and shock. His warm body was on top of her and he was working his hips like fury. He had his hands under her shoulders as he pressed her to him, his weight resting on his elbows, his hips working like a belly dancer's.
Their mouths slid all over each other, abandoning all thought and desire except to feel as much of each other as they could.
She flexed the muscles of her cunt as tightly as she could to swell the stiff cock within her. Each tightening brought a moan of passion from his throat. He pumped forward, she tightened, and he dragged his cock out, then rushed it back in.
His friction excited her so that she thrashed her head back and forth. He not only slid in and out of her grasping vagina, he began to jerk from side to side. His hands pressed harder into her shoulders.
"I want to get deeper into you."
He raised himself up and looked around like a groundhog. He saw what he wanted lying on the floor next to the mattress. It was a gaily covered pillow. He grabbed it savagely and stuffed it under her hips.
"Now spread those legs!"
Charmaine was only too willing to do so.
Passionately, Burt thrust into her once more, the sweat dripping from his brow. He jammed his cock into her dripping cunt.
"Come on, take it all. All of it. C'mon, gobble it up. That's my baby, suck it in there. Twist it, baby, grind it up!"
He was fucking furiously. He fell forward without missing a stroke and sucked hungrily on her reddened breasts. His hands found her hair and he took fistfuls of her soft dark tresses and squeezed them as he shot his hips furiously forward, humping with all his might into her warm moist vulva.
"Hump, bitch, hump!"
At this red-hot pace he'd come in a moment, she knew.
"Make it last, copper, make it last."
Like a flash he let go of her hair and flipped one of her smooth, shapely legs over his head and turned her onto her side, her swollen breast sticking out beneath her arm as her face was pushed into the soft mattress.
He brought one leg toward her back so he was imbedded in her, kneeling over one of her thighs, the other hairless leg sticking to the left over his thigh.
Burt's cock went deeper this way but it was harder for her to work her muscles to enhance the pleasure for both of them. His passionate fury was such that he hardly noticed. He grabbed her sturdy hips and pulled her backward to his cock as he thrust forward with his patient organ.
His thrusts were so physical that each one drove Charmaine an inch or two up the mattress. Her breast was being dragged beneath her chest as he fucked her across the bed. Her head moved off it and she placed her palms on the dais to keep from being fucked off the bed entirely.
This brought her shoulders up and Burt jerked her hips up from the side-saddle position and maneuvered his legs so that his long cock, still deep within her, could rest comfortably in her cunt as he brought her to her knees and knelt behind her. He pumped her this way for a few minutes, their breathing matching in a harmony of passion.
"Now, baby, move your pretty hips backward. Stay on me, hold on with that sassy cunt. Pm going to lie down. Sit on my cock."
Charmaine thought she could do it. She tried. He was able to lie on his back, and she squatted on his blood-filled cock. He pumped up and down. This position rubbed his cock dramatically against her clit and deep moans of pleasure came from her throat as she arched her neck and let sheer passion overtake her once more.
Charmaine began to rotate her full hips, encircling his extended penis, trying to whittle it away with her rings of muscle. She thought she'd die from the good feeling. If she did, she'd go happily.
"Oh, fuck me, fuck me!"
"That's my hot baby, turn and face me. I want to see those bit tits hanging in front of my face. Let 'em flop."
She tried to duck-walk around and swing her leg over his body.
"Don't be afraid to rest your weight on my body."
Charmaine inched her hands and feet around till she got one leg over his stomach. Her full breasts were hanging fleshily free from her delicate but strong young body, and his fingers itched to caress them. His eyes darted from her face to her breasts to the mingling of hair where their crotches pressed avidly together.
"Ummmmm."
Her belly was winding and gyrating in full moist circles as he slid his dick into her, then out again. It was a comfortable smooth fucking, easy to relax with. Her hips seemed fuller because her legs were bent beneath her. Her flesh was smooth and round, a touch of Venus beneath his hands.
The touch of his hot possessive hands on her only excited the mature woman more. She liked his gruff take-charge treatment and the moisture oozing from her hairy gash only proved it.
He smiled as he looked at her full body and said softly-"So much woman."
No one had ever paid her such a compliment. It raised her temperature. She let out an uncontrollable moan of pleasure. His hands moved from her breasts to her hips. He slid one finger along his cock, sending it into her warm folds. He wiggled the tip of his finger against the trigger of her clitoris.
More moans escaped her as dizzy spells swept her mind away. His free hand searched around for the inhaler. He found it with some difficulty.
Charmaine worked her inner muscles more on his extended cock. She could clearly distinguish the bulb on its end and tried to squeeze it extra tightly. He brought the aluminum to her nose again and she arched her neck to catch its rising vapors.
Her full breasts swung as she took short deep breaths through her nostrils, allowing the exciting vapors to transport her out of reality. She was floating and only half heard his voice.
"Chew it up, baby!"
He was drawing the stuff heavily into his own nostrils when she opened her eyes to see his lithe body flexing as he humped his hips to bounce her on his cock.
"Ride, ride."
He was squeezing her tits.
"Ride me!"
She placed her palms on his chest and felt his perspiration-dampened hair. With all her might she tightened and squeezed herself around his penetrating cock.
Burt grabbed a handful of her hair and was dragging her head back, back so she was falling onto her shoulders. His cock pressed hard against her clit. He didn't stop his strokes and the friction was overpowering. As he continued the tugging at her hair, she lost more and more of her balance and her legs shot from under her. She was flat on her back between his outstretched legs with his hand still in her hair.
Cries of passion spewed from her. She couldn't help it, the pressure against her clit felt too good. He made tiny short strokes, rubbing against her clit mercilessly. Inarticulate moans came out of her mouth.
His long body made it possible for him to have his mouth almost on her before he had to move his legs as he raised himself up to plant wet lips on her face and slobber all over her soft skin. He was breathing quickly and his hot breath tingled on her skin. He was flat on top of her and fucking with a capital "F", the bones of his body pressing hard against her soft feminine flesh.
"Now take it, take it, take it!"
She squeezed and rotated and humped. Burt grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms away from her body while he ground his cock into her, panting, sweating, and throbbing. Suddenly his cock swelled. She could feel his hot liquid gushing through his organ and rushing out its head into her body. Its warmth caused a shudder to go all through her. He didn't have to fuck anymore, the throbbing of his penis did all that was necessary to make her feel more content than she ever had felt before.
Burt didn't pull out, but lay exhausted on top of her. His heartbeat kept up its exaggerated pace for several minutes and then began to slow to a normal pace.
When he raised himself off her and headed for the bathroom without looking back, she took a deep breath. He was terrific sex!
When he came back from the bathroom he quickly began putting on his uniform and talking without looking directly at her.
"Now, are you satisfied enough to tell me about the timing device?"
"Oh, all right, you certainly are a one-track man. The Bird Woman and I got to be friends, as I related, and one day we were hitting the martinis and laughing a great deal, and she showed me her collection of dildoes, a goddamn bowl of 'em. One thing led to another and when I left she gave me the thing you're asking about because she didn't know what dildo it was supposed to go into. We thought it was a battery or something to activate a rubber cock, you know? That's the whole story. As to wheije it came from, you'd have to ask her."
When he was completely clothed, he picked up hie timing device. He barked at Charmaine.
"Write down the address."
"All right, all right, don't get professional. God, anyone would think I didn't spend my time spreading joy and good cheer."
Burt left her apartment and hurried to the squad car waiting for him at the curb. He barked the address at the driver and made notations in his book as they hurried through the streets with the siren blaring.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Bird Woman's townhouse was just as Charmaine described it, elegant, sedate, and dignified. Before he went in he had his driver circle the block so he could see the cigar store. As soon as he spotted it a man came out turning his collar up and pulling his hat down over his eyes-a sure giveaway that he felt guilty about something.
Burt wished he was in civvies, but his out-of-town uniform would have to do. A maid in a white dress and house slippers answered the door with a dust mop in her hand.
"Yes?"
"I'm Officer Burt Showalter from the Tableville, New Jersey, police department and I have business with the lady of the house."
The maid did not bother to ask for identification, she was a savvy woman and recognized an honest-to-goodness cop when she saw one. She showed him into a waiting room decorated in pleasant Victorian opulence. He sat on a genuine antique and awaited the Bird Woman.
The ornithological lady had seen his arrival from her upstairs window and had already begun her descent when the maid picked up the intercom to inform her mistress that there was a policeman waiting to see her.
She was just finishing her breakfast tray when she'd seen Burt coming up the front stoop of her house. A policeman in uniform is invariably noticed if he's on the steps of a whorehouse.
She was dressed in her usual morning attire (morning for her was noon till three p.m.). When she entered the little sitting room where Burt waited he was flabbergasted.
The Bird Woman wasn't so well built as Charmaine Van Zoot, but she was clever and knew how to compensate for her lack of physical beauty.
She was a scrawny woman of perhaps fifty or sixty. She wasn't much over five feet tall but she compensated for her height by wearing elevator shoes with additional platforms on the soles and heels. It wasn't the Tony Orlando-type exaggerated footwear which startled Burt; it was the whole outfit. The Bird Woman was something to behold.
She stood in the entrance to the room on her skyscraper boots which laced up to the knee. The boots were green felt and the lacings were orange. Only a patch of legs showed over the top of her boots because around her waist she wore the type of Spanish shawl Susan had described when she was recounting her ordeal of rape in the elevator. It had fringe two feet long and that served as the Bird Woman's skirt.
Her waist was cinched by a black Merry Widow corset with lots of ruffles of black lace at the top. She wore a bright red garter around her upper left arm. Her right wrist was swathed in a myriad of bracelets, noisy and colorful. She wore a diamond choker around her throat and her hair was dyed a theatrical shade of red. Her hair was frizzily curled and looked for all the world like an orange Afro. Her complexion was dead white. Any color it had came from the drug store.
To her ears she had attached long dangly sapphires set in gold. Her eyes were heavily made up in primary colors. Around her shoulders she had twined an electric blue ostrich feather boa which trailed down either side of her till it almost reached the floor. Her hips were wide and her waist narrow but Burt was so shocked by the whole apparition he lost his cool.
The Bird Woman stood in the doorway with both heavily ringed hands on her hips and studied the young cop.
"Don't get up, fella, I like to think I'm taller than the men I talk to; most of the time it doesn't matter how tall they are, I always have to look up to them-they're usually on top of me. What's your pleasure?"
Burt swallowed hard and tried to state his mission clearly without faltering but that was hard because she was such an unbelievable sight.
"A timing device, what the hell's that?"
He showed her the intricate wires and pieces of metal.
"Oh, that old thing. I thought it was something that fell out of a friend's toy. A lot of my, well, my lady friends, tell me they use toys."
"Ma'am, I'm not interested in anything except this piece of machinery and where it came from. Please tell me all you know. Which friend, where did she get it, any detail at all might help."
The Bird Woman studied the young cop carefully. He seemed too naive not to be telling the truth. If he was interested in her money-making operation in the house, he wouldn't come in uniform and he wouldn't be polite. She surmised he was on the level.
"Anything I tell you is off the record?"
"Naturally."
"You're not wearing any bugging devices under that uniform, are you?"
Burt stood up and held his jacket open while he gave her a broad boyish grin.
"You want to search me, ma'am?"
"Twenty years ago I'd have taken you up on that offer, but these days I prefer to feel up my stocks and bonds, though God knows they're worth precious little anymore. Oh, sit down, I'm not about to be turned on just because you've got a bulging chest and a bulging pair of trousers.
"The last time I saw that thing it was on the swimming pool terrace. Let's see, it must have been, oh, easily last summer."
It was mid-December. That put the last time The Bird Woman had seen the timing device at roughly the first of August. That at least didn't conflict with anything he'd heard from the other woman.
"I remember it was summer because Vernon and Jackie were doing their act for a European visitor."
She stopped talking but Burt didn't fill the conversational void. She seemed embarrassed to continue. Burt drew upon his Figure of Authority voice and asked, "What about the device, how did that fit in?"
She twisted her head and looked at him over her drooping eyelids.
"Well ... Oh, shit! In for a penny, in for a pound."
She crossed her bony legs and put her elbow on top of her knee, leaned forward and began ticking off the points on her fingers as she explained the connection to Burt.
"Jackie is one of my girls. She's black, nice tits, good worker, no complaints. This European dude, he's rich as hell, owns Central America or something, he's a regular who used to dig Jackie, but they had some little spat and during the summer he was pissed at her. He wants to humiliate her-you know about that kind of sex, I'm sure.
"To put her down, he comes up with a dude the likes of which I'd never seen. The man had a dong on him big enough to club a horse with. I mean bah-roooom! El Giganto!
"The thing must have weighed ten pounds, empty. He asked if this freak could fuck Jackie while he watched because he wanted to see her fucked down. I must admit I agreed for a very selfish reason: I was pissed at Jackie myself just then. So it's all set up: in comes Jackie expecting her usual routine with the foreigner.
"I'm out in the hall hoping I can overhear her reaction. Instead, I hear a yelp as soon as the door closes. It opens right away and out runs Jackie cursing and swearing just as if she'd forgotten all I'd taught her. Right behind her comes the old guy and this freak he's brought, both of 'em buck naked.
"They tear through the hall, down the stairs, Jackie bellowing and screaming her head off, disturbing everybody, and behind her, like it was a greased pig race, comes Vernon, that's the big-tooled freak, and the old geezer.
"Jackie circles the whole parlor, comes right along there and zips down to the pool. They're hot on her tail. By this time, of course, the whole place is out in the halls and wondering what the hell's going on.
"One asshole was struggling into his pants yelling, 'Raid! Raid!' I had to have Bozo knock him out. I chased the three idiots down the stairs. Right behind me comes all the girls, all their clients, Bozo-everybody.
"We'd been having a seepage problem from the pool so I had the pool drained. It's not such a big draw in the summer, anyway, they can swim at home in summer. The door to the tunnel was locked, a precaution I can take with a switch in my office and I use it whenever anything out of the ordinary takes place. I shouldn't be telling you my secrets, should I?"
"It's all right, ma'am, just get to the device."
"Well, Jackie is running in her long gown and can't pull open the door to the tunnel. They're coming behind her. She has to go around the swimming pool to get back to the stairs or even the elevator. They're crafty and split up, each going around one side of the dry pool. Jackie's crafty, too, and waits till they're close to her on either side, closing in, then she jumps into the dry pool and bolts for the shallow end so she can hit the stairs.
"Vernon sprang through the air and landed almost next to her; what a leap! Of course he had her down in nothing flat. We're all lining the side of the pool and people begin laughing. They applaud the dude for catching Jackie and one Western jerk yells, 'Give her what-for right in the pork chops.' Vernon looks around, gets a big charge out of his audience and straight away sets to fuckin' Jackie. The old boy was delighted.
"Since there's no longer any disturbance and nobody is upset, except Jackie, naturally, I decided to finesse the situation. I sent the waiters upstairs for the portable bar and served drinks on the house while we watched the show."
She leaned back in her chair and turned her fingers into church steeples while she looked at Burt as if she'd just given him the whole explanation.
"What about the device, ma'am?"
"That, well, Vernon, this kid, fucked her every which way. She cursed him. She cursed the old fart. She cursed me. I don't think there were too many mortals she didn't curse. He gave her that big thing of his dog-style, on her back; he fed it to her throat; oh, she was definitely violated.
"After he'd tried every opening he could find big enough, he began giving her first one finger, then two, a third until he had his whole hand inside her. You should have heard the customers howl. Jackie didn't deserve their rude remarks, she takes care of herself. I gave a couple of them reprimanding looks-you have to treat men like children in this business-and they shut up.
"The old boy, who was picking up the tab so he could call the shots, invited all the men to come into the swimming pool and give Jackie a finger or two. That's when she bit him. She drew blood and called him every ugly name you could think up.
"He got mad. Up till this time it had all been for laughs, that's what made Jackie so mad. He looked all around for something to shove up her cunt.
"Somebody offered him a broom that was behind the door, but I wouldn't allow that. Jackie's a good worker, I didn't want her hurt. We'd been cleaning out part of the tunnel which had to be shifted a few expensive feet because of the leak, so there was the broom and a dustpan, a box of rubbish, one glove, scraps of wood, that sort of thing. One of the customers found that thing in the box."
"What thing?"
"That."
"You mean this timing device?"
"Yes, because I remember I'd never seen it before and couldn't imagine what it was. The customer who pulled it out of the trash seemed to think it was a motor for a fancy dildo and he grabbed one of those rubber dildoes from the dish, like that One."
Burt turned to where she pointed and was surprised to see on a table behind him a large dish filled with dildoes of varying shapes and sizes. It seemed to have been deliberately arranged, the way one would arrange a vase of flowers.
"Some people have dishes of candy sitting around, I have something that encourages the customers to spend money." She smiled sweetly.
"I had a dish of those down there and this guy grabs one, see, and starts twisting it to that wire there on the bottom. He was drunk and got all fucked up. Finally he throws it down and just sticks the dildo in her, yelling he thought it was a battery to make it vibrate. I remember everyone laughed at that and began drifting back to the upper floors."
"Any one of those people, then, could have walked off with this gadget."
"You could ask Vernon, he used it a lot after that."
"Oh, then it didn't leave here."
"That's right, it stayed and so did Vernon. I'll send him down, he could tell you more. Oh, come on up, you won't startle anybody in your little outfit; they are probably still asleep anyway. If they do see you they'll think your uniform is just another fetish."
The colorfully dressed woman led him up the stairs to the third floor. She climbed at a steady pace which Burt considered remarkable for a woman her age, whatever it was.
"Why, what's this?" exclaimed The Bird Woman as she opened the door of Vernon's room.
Instead of seeing a strapping youth with a joint to end all joints, Burt saw a shapely girl with beautiful pink tits. He knew they were beautiful because they were floating like gentle islands above the satin sheet. It looked like all the women in New York slept on satin sheets.
"Where's Vernon?" asked The Bird Woman who was as surprised as Burt.
"He went to one of the storerooms to find a little television set. Well, don't look at me like that, I'm not on duty till midnight; he and I can stay here and watch television if we want. Besides, I want to follow a continuing real-life drama which is touching all our lives, if you don't mind me sounding like a plug for a soap opera. I mean I want to keep abreast of the bombings. God, do you realize any one of us could be blown up any minute? It makes a girl want to stay in bed. Who's he?"
The Bird Woman introduced Burt who tipped his cap. The girl was on a square, low bed which looked peculiar to Burt. She smiled up at him and arched her chest so her luscious wobbly tits undulated just a trifle. She had the kind of smile they look for to make toothpaste ads. Burt liked that kind of a smile.
"I'm glad three-legged Vernon is out for a few minutes, it will give me a chance to get acquainted with this representative of the law."
"Portia," began The Bird Woman sarcastically, "keep your greedy cunt closed; he's here on business, not pleasure."
"I enjoy my work, why shouldn't he have a chance to enjoy his? Do you want to question me, closely?" purred Portia.
"He's looking for Vernon."
"I'm prettier."
The Bird Woman listened to Portia flirt with her voice and decided it might be the best insurance she had if she let Portia seduce the cop. He wouldn't dare blow the whistle on her if she had a clear photograph or two of him in the sack with one of her girls.
In a moment Burt was alone with Portia, The Bird Woman having discreetly closed the door behind her as she tiptoed out.
"Why don't you sit down on the edge while you wait for Vernon. It's a water bed but I'll save you if you go under."
Burt looked around to ask The Bird Woman if it was all right for him to wait in the girl's bedroom.
His politeness was knocked out of him when he saw that the door was closed and he was the only one in the room with the pretty-titted Portia, He instantly became the professional policeman.
"Something happened here a few weeks ago that I'm charged with investigating. I haven't got time to play games."
"I've been here a while, maybe I could shed some light for you."
As she said it she slid down in the bed making a tent with her knees. As she said "shed" she spread her knees wide apart. Burt blushed. Portia quickly threw the covers off her body and lay spread open and exposed, extending her arms to him.
"I won't volunteer a bit of information unless I'm worked over by a big fat police club. Like yours. When you put the question to me I want to feel it!"
She began humping her box up in the air.
"Question me," she begged.
"You make it sound like 'fuck me'."
"Whoever said cops were dumb?"
"Look, miss, this is a serious matter. Do you know, get your hands off my neck, please, anything about this piece of equipment?"
"How hard are you going to question me, big fella?"
Portia slid over on the water bed and put her hand on his thigh, trying to feel for his cock. The water in the bed shifted and Burt rocked back and forth, making it easy for her to pull him off balance. She wound her naked body around him like a wanton snake. He had to pull at her wrists with both hands but she wouldn't let go of his neck.
Burt was trying to extricate himself from her. He was a guy who was embarrassed. He didn't use his wrestling training, but he was beginning to think about it as she tugged him to her. The warmth of her body came to him through his uniform.
"Question me hard, root it out of me."
"Damn it, lady...."
"Is there any regulation that says you can't do something else while you question me? Drink a cup of coffee or smoke? Haven't you ever tried to make somebody like you while you questioned her? Loosen up. If nothing else, it'll make a nice story you can tell your chums."
Burt realized he could take command of the situation, but she did smell nice and had a luscious body. He was turned on by the nice firm line of her legs. She looked like someone a man would hope to find in a harem, especially now that those sheiks could afford the best from anywhere on earth. A big blond beauty like this must command the highest dollar and end up in the richest beds. It was all heady to Burt and her undulations against him didn't make it any easier to ignore her.
"Please question me," she said twirling a strand of his hair between her fingers. "See how cooperative I can be when I put myself into it."
That did it for Burt. He lost all will power and kissed her on the neck, which she was pressing against his face at the time.
Portia sighed a very satisfied sigh and released him so he could stand up and remove his pants. Immediately, as he got to his feet, she changed her mind and rolled to the edge of the water bed. She got on to her knees in front of him saying, "Un, un, let me do that."
Looking up at him with seductive eyes, her soft hair falling over her shoulders and curling down to decorate one rich breast, she began unzipping his fly.
The cop stood firmly planted on his feet, his legs spread apart, his knuckles on his hips and his jaw set. Portia crawled up to his legs and hung around him as she pulled his zipper down. She used both hands to undo his belt but he stopped her from opening it.
"If you're so set on getting dicked when apparently you've been in bed all day with a man who has a two-by-four between his legs, I guess you'd better have it, but I warn you: I'm pissed off and you're going to know it."
"God, I hope so."
With that he pulled her up to his chest and made her unbutton his shirt. She reached for his cap but he prevented her from taking it off his head.
"Oh, you're hairy," she said as she bared his chest. She pressed herself against him while she worked the shirt down his arms and tugged it out of his belt. He undid his belt, wrapped it around his holster and revolver and laid it to the side. His firm legs stayed steady as she dropped back down to the floor and worked his pants down over the bulge in his shorts.
"I like the feel of a man's cock through his underwear; it feels a little like a heating pad."
"You'll find out very quickly it's more like a hot poker."
Her delicate fingers pulled the waistband of his shorts down his legs and waited while he stepped out of them, then pulled his shoes off by using his toes against his heels. Portia quickly worked his socks off, bending low and kissing one foot when it was naked. Burt smirked and moved his legs apart, putting his clenched fists back on his hip bones and standing like a palace guard while Portia coiled around his sturdy legs and stretched up to plant a kiss on the head of his cock. His meaty cock was swelling so quickly it was rising like an orchestra conductor's arm leading a slow build.
Her lips wet the head of his cock and puckered to pull an inch or two of its shaft into her mouth. He put one hand in her hair and rolled her head gently from side to side. When she finally took her mouth off his fully enlarged organ she played her lips on his balls and then kissed him down the length of his leg.
"If your cunt lips work as well as your other lips, I think I might find a couple of more questions to ask you."
"You can count on my lips telling you everything, verbally or otherwise."
"Put it back in your mouth."
"You want to use your cock to shut me up?
Why? Am I getting to you?"
"It's hard, isn't it?"
"Ummm hmmm, it is. I'm going to put it back in the forge and get it even hotter."
With that she opened her beautiful mouth and pulled his hips to her face, taking his hot cock into her mouth and down into her throat. She held it deep in her and swallowed over and over again. Burt began to break out in a sweat as she toyed with his cock.
Eventually she had to breathe and reluctantly let his cock slide over her tongue and into freedom. Burt liked what she'd done but knew if he let her do it again he'd come and not get to fuck her at all. He wanted to fuck her very badly. He reached down and fondled her plump breast, pinching her nipple not too gently and playing with her pliable flesh as if it were bread dough.
He used both hands to play with her tits, making her sigh happily and contentedly. Portia tossed her head back and forth in her ecstasy, gently whipping his leg with her hair. She scrawled between his legs and stretched her neck by putting her head back as far as she could so that she could stick her tongue straight out and lick him in that practically inaccessible area between the legs.
Burt obliged her by bending his knees, dropping his body down a few inches. He looked at the comely line of her legs and the round voluptuousness of her hips. A little patch of light brown hair rested like smoke above the ruby red of her pussy. As he watched she squeezed her cunt and let one finger disappear into it.
"Lick in there, lady, and inhale."
Portia shuddered all over, she was so excited by his order.
"When did Vernon pick up that device in the basement?"
"Oh, fuck me before you get into that business."
She bit him gently on the ass. Her cheek felt the hairs growing on its round melon-like surface. Her back was against the wooden wall of the water bed and she raised up and scooted her pretty bottom onto the gurgly sack.
"Try it on the water bed, you'll like it."
"One fuck and that's all you get, understand, lady?"
"Give me the credit for being good at what I do; if when I'm through with you, you want to go away, that's okay, but I warn you, you'll be the first man who didn't come back for seconds, if I'd let him. You better be good, or you'll dishonor the men in blue."
"When I fuck, you hot twat, I do what I like, the way I like, and for as long as I like."
"Yeah, come on and show me. I'll grind your meat up and give you back hamburger."
Portia began pulling out all the stops in her attempt to fire up the handsome young cop who still had his cap on his head. She lay flat on her bag of water and began working her pussy and using some of the movements she'd learned in belly dancing class. For a brief period before she came to The Bird Woman she had worked as a belly dancer in clubs in Manhattan.
Due to her inability to leave men alone, she had, according to a judge, "overstepped the bounds of entertainment and descended to wanton and immoral behavior in a public hall." She should never have tried to pick up that five dollar bill with her cunt; it had been the end of her cabaret career. She lost her performer's license.
It all worked out okay for Portia anyway. After she got out of jail, (mercifully the reporters weren't there that day) she was able to go home without the publicity that had attended her arrest and trial. One of her club's customers raved about her to The Bird Woman who made a note on her calendar to get in contact with the well-built nympho as soon as she got out of jail. That's how Portia came to be part of the attractions of The Bird Woman's house.
Belly dancing while lying flat on one's back isn't as stylized as doing it standing up with the noisy jewelry and cymbals and the silken costume, but a beautiful woman undulating her body and diddling her clit right next to you is a temperature riser. Burt's temperature had risen. So had his cock.
"Wow! You tote some gun."
"Yeah, and it's time for target practice."
"Leave your cap on, I like the look of your hair around the edge of it and besides, it sets off your face nicely."
"You probably want me to wear my revolver to bed, too."
"What you've got hanging there will do, as long as it's a repeater."
CHAPTER FIVE
Burt turned his back to the large water-filled plastic bag and sat down, swung his legs up over the frame and lay down flat. His body rolled with the water moving underneath him.
"Will I get seasick?"
"You'd be the first person who ever did if you do. Stretch out."
Burt put one leg up in the air and fell backward. He laughed as he rolled onto the bed on his stomach. For several minutes Burt rolled Portia around and got acquainted with the sleeping device.
Shortly, rolling and making little jokes gave way to some tentative touching, soulful looks, and soft embraces. The two nudes lay silently on the wobbly bed and stared at each other. They gazed into each other's eyes. The muffled noises of a couple fucking next door broke the silence.
Portia stretched herself out on the water bed, lying on her back. He smiled because her breasts were so large she could not lie comfortably on her stomach. He breathed deeply and said to himself, "That's one good-looking chick!"
"Ever-ready Portia" stared at Burt's legs rippling with muscles. His taut ass seemed unreal. His stomach was flat and like a washboard. His chest was sculptured and his shoulders had stimulating definition.
He brought his big hand under his pendulous prick and eased the foreskin around his coronal ridge a few times while he turned and faced Portia luxuriating on the water bed.
In the dim light her body shone, the light making her glow like a jewel in the semi-light. Burt's cock began to grow. The shaft uncoiled and its head began turning like a lazy snake. It moved its weight away from his body and arched as it swung into the air.
Burt raised one knee and half knelt on the edge of the bed. Portia let one hand drift into her hair and felt its soft curls with her fingers. While her hand slowly travelled through her radiant hair, she gazed at the man in the cap staring down at her curvaceous body. Her wet lips parted and she raised the lower part of her face in invitation.
His veiny hands reached toward her. Delicately, his palm slid against her shoulder like a plane effortlessly embracing an airfield. The touch of his skin on her was incendiary, automatically igniting a fire throughout her whole body.
Burt's cock swung heavily as his muscular body moved; Portia smiled at the sight of his manly sex organ. He continued as if his dong were nothing unusual. Her heart beating like a drum, she stole another glance at his swinging prick. It was not completely hard yet, but its length was almost fully realized. Its width made her salivate. The circumcision mark was very deep. Good, she thought.
Burt smiled tenderly as his hands massaged her upper body. He sat down on the edge of the bed, the water gurgling underneath. He placed both of his palms on her hips as if she were a toy. His arms folded tenderly around her, and he pulled her torso down beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder while he hugged her affectionately.
He knew he was undergoing a sexual fantasy and he did nothing to dispel it. She was a beauty and the combination of their perfect bodies and the easy blending of their movements drove Burt into excited breathing and trembling ticks in his skin. His cock was pressing against her body.
Burt rocked her like a baby on the water bed. She hugged him. His chest was broad and hard. It felt wonderful to put her arms around him and she let the warm feeling course through her body. He brought one hand up and held her head to his chest. His other hand softly rubbed her back as he rocked her on the watery pillow.
With a contented "mmmmmmm," Portia snuggled her head and her jug-like tits against his bare skin. She started to pull away. His big arms held her fast to him.
With a purring sigh she let him know she was grateful to him for keeping her body next to his. As the rocking continued Portia gave voice to her innermost feelings.
"Let's really get it down! I want to feel all of my daddy."
His hands were sliding up and down her slender body. When his hands came off her shoulders and began sliding around her breasts, he pulled his head back and held her from moving. She was immobilized as he kept his eyes on her face, lowered his mouth to her stomach and kissed her. The touch of his lips was like raindrops.
Burt's beautiful body slid down the bed. His eyes stayed on hers. His mouth opened, showing perfect teeth. His face was directly over her pudenda, lowering to the hairs crowning her pussy. His pink tongue came out over his lush lips. He lowered his eyelids and his tongue went into the forest surrounding her cunt. The pressure against her leg told her his cock was fully hard.
Burt's lips plunged into her juicy cunt. He licked around the outer edges of her pussy, then her labias. His fingers parted them, he put four fingers on them and pulled them apart with a noisy utterance. Portia drew in her breath quickly. His tongue stretched out of his mouth and laved in her warm flesh. His fingers expertly opened her chamber and by peeling it from the top, exposed her growing clitoris. He worked on her hungry bud with pursed lips.
He sucked her clit slowly at first, then with increasing intensity until over her loud pantings he heard his mouth sucking. His ass twitched as he squirmed on the water bed between her legs.
He ran his tongue back and forth across her inflamed clit. He moved his tongue from clit to cunt, from cunt to clit. Her body was thrashing. Her throat wheezed. Her hands alternately clasped his shoulders desperately and flung through the air and into her hair as her head tossed wildly side to side.
"Oh, stop, stop! I can't stand it, III go crazy unless you stop!" He didn't. "Oh. Oh!"
Burt tortured her with his tongue.
"Yes! Damn it, you fuckin' cop-take me!!!"
He held his tongue stiff and rotated his whole head in her cunt, running his mouth around the inside of it, breathing when he could if he could. If not, he sucked in the juices she generated. He'd never felt this powerful with a woman before. It was better than last time.
"Do it to me! Run your tongue in me. Do it, daddy!"
Her breasts wobbling like bowls of jello, Portia screamed and bubbled. She whined and sputtered and sobbed. Her thighs slapped around his head. Her fingers clung to his shoulders or doubled up into fists and pounded on his hard muscles.
Suddenly she froze. Her clenched knees held his hair and in desperation she forced his face into her cunt. Burt thought he would suffocate but he hung in, his unseen tongue masterfully dancing around, stimulating all her glands.
She thought the world would come to an end sooner than he'd pull out of her cunt. He did, though, and she was able to breathe. As the air rushed back into her collapsed lungs, she let out a long satisfied groan, relaxing her grip on his head. He left her pussy by running his loving tongue around the edges of her clit, her labias, her hairs, and her pudenda. His cheeks were soothing her.
As he crawled up her body, his weighty cock dragged over her legs.
Portia didn't want to come, ever. She wanted to prolong the ecstasy. The only way she could think to extend the passionate activity was to do something completely different. With all the force she had in her, she put a clenched fist under his muscular shoulder and tried to force his body off her. He felt the pressure and let her have her way. He rolled onto his back. She eased herself between his legs and scooted down.
With her luscious red lips right above the head of his thick cock, she paused. After taking in a big breath she lowered her face onto his strutting prick. The head of it filled her mouth. His hands were delicately resting on her shoulders. She advanced her mouth. Her lips slid over the smooth surface of his heavy cock. She was amazed at its width. She let it fill her, touching the back of her throat. She'd never be able to do it, yet she wanted to. Squinting her eyes, the beauty strained her neck and swallowed more and more of his impressive organ.
Her head rose and fell between his legs. Her mouth was crammed with thick, hefty, beefy cock. She tried to cover her teeth with her lips so she wouldn't scrape the skin on his big organ. Only a few inches of it showed. He was amazed at her ability to keep sliding down his huge cock. Her grunts and cries were heathenish. He watched as her head bobbed, up and down, stretching and straining to gobble his hot cock into her throat.
His brain was swimming. When she felt his pubic hairs pressing her lips and then the solid hard flesh of his abdomen pressuring her mouth, she knew she had triumphed. She'd taken it all!
Burt guided her voluptuous hips with his strong hands. She walked around on her knees, pivoting on his straight jutting dick. He maneuvered his hips over his face and craned his neck to put his mouth into her pussy once more. They sixty-nined energetically. Drops of saliva rained down on his body in two places.
Abruptly, Burt asserted himself and rolled up, over and on top of Portia who grunted with pleasure. The additional thrill of his weight on top of her was a turn-on.
Their bodies were rolling side to side on the water bed. They glistened with the sweat their passion was producing. The light accented their dewy sheen; they looked like oiled gods swaying with each other on some Olympian cloud of pleasure.
Burt destroyed the illusion by pulling away from the well-built girl and rising to his knees, stretching his sexy body as he did so.
Like a flash he worked his knees between hers and slid back into the valley between her legs. His pendulous cock hung from his torso. With one hand on her trembling knee, he used his other hand to finger-fuck her pussy. He quickly positioned himself and aimed the head of his cock at her tender cunt.
Taking the care of a honeymooner, he slowly eased his big ship into its anxious berth. He sunk his shaft into her with one continuing stroke.
"Oh! Lover, fuck me hard!"
He pulled his luxury liner of a cock back and drove it forward in a straight line. Her willing body tugged it into her, her clit bowing to its weight and stately passage. When he'd sheathed his cock completely, he retreated and bent her trembling clit in the opposite direction as he withdrew. His coronal ridge was all that was left inside her when he reversed engines again and advanced once more. One hand was in her hair and the other was caressing her shoulder. Her hands were on his bull-like neck and whenever she could reach them, she planted kisses on his mouth, chin, and jaw.
"Fuck me, fuck me, daddy!"
"You'll get fucked!"
His authority thrilled her. She fantasized a rough-tough man fucking her into insensibility. Oh, how she'd love that! "Fuck, stud!"
"I'll fuck you into jelly!"
She snapped her pussy at him. He attacked her insides with his cock. She tried to make his heavy cock a prisoner in her pussy by clasping it shut on him. By sheer force he dragged his cock to freedom. Passionately, he rammed it back into her pink pussy, gripping her tit at the same time and lowering his head onto her nipple and sucking selfishly on her soft tender flesh.
"Come on, get fucked!"
"Ahhhh!"
His hips rose and fell with a speed that looked blurred. The lights seemed to flash to the rhythm of his pumping ass. The shadow their bodies created on the wall was a trip in itself. The water bed kept moving under them in a noisy and exciting wash. Her fingernails cut into his back.
They were too involved in their lust to notice a small four-by-six panel high in the wall slide open. Behind the tiny opening, The Bird Woman with an expensive camera was nonchalantly snapping all exposures on the roll. She calmly closed the panel, climbed down the ladder, and put her film in a safe. It was just a little insurance.
"Give me that tight cunt," ordered Burt.
"It's yours, you fucking stud," panted Portia.
Burt's physique was a blur of perfect muscle as he clutched her to him and flipped onto his back, forcing her into a kneeling position above him with his lengthy cock embedded securely within her. He watched her full breasts bob with the bounce of his strokes into her crowded pussy. Their wobbling motion excited his bright eyes and the bounce of her earrings against her neck would drive any man mad with desire.
"Oh, un, oh, please, oh, un, Ahhhh!"
Burt was beside himself with a drive to kiss her or stuff his cock into her mouth or lick her tits or something. Maybe he'd work his mouth into the crack in her ass to kiss at the sphincter hidden there; he didn't know, he just knew he was perspiring and his cock was throbbing.
"Ye-ye-ye-yes!!!! Fuck! Oh, give it to me," she bleated.
Burt was squeezing her tits for all he was worth and she was staring right at his sweaty face and begging him to do it harder. His hips flew upward. Her pussy clutched. Her round smooth hips bounced on his dark skin.
In one motion he fucked her up into the air, raised himself up on his knees, caught her under the buttocks, pushed them forward, braced himself with one arm, clutched her with the other, and lowered her onto her back and was lying on top of her fucking violently and going "un, un, un" in his throat.
Portia tried to clutch him around the neck and whisper in his ear but he was fucking so hard all the sound she could make was part of a syllable when he stroked out of her.
"Pl-ease f-fuck m-eee so-some ... ahhhhh!"
Her cum dribbled out of her cunt and washed over the base of his pistoning cock as she hopelessly clopped on the water bed beneath him. The big dimples in his ass came and went with his drives into her wet warm pussy.
He put one hand in back of her head and pressed her willing mouth to his, ramming his body into the bed.
"That's-IT!"
His body shook as his cum exploded out of the head of his cock and shotgunned into her cunt. He came and came and came. Again the juices flowed out around his fat organ and found their way down the plumpness of her ass onto the covering of the water bed. I
"You're magnificent, cop."
Burt was so inflamed by her body and ability to fuck that he had forgotten about his mission.
"When did that device turn up here?"
"Huh?"
"The device, the timing device; there's a fuckin' danger to this city and we've got to track it down."
At that moment the door opened and Vernon entered only to realize Portia had a customer so he stepped backward. Funny, he thought, she's not on duty till midnight. He knew Portia though and he realized she couldn't ever get enough and that the man on top of her was athletic and attractive, wearing a cop's cap yet; no wonder she was fucking him even during her rest period.
Portia caught sight of him before he closed the door.
"Vernon, don't go away! Come in."
Burt turned to look at the door. Young Vernon of the Fantastic Cock stood there a little sheepishly. Portia extended one arm and beckoned the stud to her side with her finger. Hope leaped in her breast because she thought she might be able to get two wonderful fuckers in her bed at once.
"My friend here wants to ask you something." Vernon's heart sank. He was afraid the guy would want to play with his cock, a lot of the customers did.
"You are Vernon?"
"Yeah."
"Come over here."
There was command in the man's voice. The cop's cap on his head, albeit askew, gave him an air of authority. Vernon quickly came into the room.
Burt began to withdraw his spent cock but Portia refused to release it. She clung to him, trying to lock her ankles behind him. Vernon looked down on the round moons of Burt's ass. He saw it dimple slightly as sympathetic strokes lazily came and went while his limp cock nominally fucked Portia.
The happy look on Portia's face told him the cop had fucked her well; no wonder she wouldn't let him out of her pussy.
"See that contraption over there?" the cop nodded to a piece of metal with some wires on it and what looked like the face of a clock. Vernon vaguely recognized it as the motor for a dildo.
"Yeah."
"You picked it up from the basement area some time back; they were blasting a tunnel down by the swimming pool or something?"
"Yeah, sure, but it doesn't work; I couldn't figure how to attach it to the prod."
"When did all this happen?-Hold still, bitch."
Portia stopped swiveling her hips and refrained from opening and closing her cunt lips on his cock.
"It happened a couple of months ago. Why?"
"It's an investigation I'm assigned to, that's all you need to know about it. You are not suspected of anything, so don't get defensive. You think I'd ask you questions from this position if I was here to take you in?"
Vernon wasn't brilliant but he wasn't totally without brains and he knew a cop from some place else, out of state yet, could not arrest him in New York. A cop is a cop, however, and Vernon lived his life too close to the border line between legal and illegal not to be apprehensive when one asked him direct questions.
"Now, what light can you shed on this thing? Did you see any workmen with it? Were there any others lying around when they finished? Has anybody talked about this thing, even in passing?"
Vernon sat down on the bed next to the cop between Portia's legs. While Vernon tried to think the couple began fucking once again, a slow casual undulation which was more play than anything else. Vernon tried to concentrate but he was distracted by the smooth body of Portia being pushed into the water bed by the tight-bodied cop.
"There were a couple of others in the box I got that one out of. It was like a cardboard box of shit, crap they had left behind when they swept up the debris, you know what I mean? The Bird Woman was down there, there were a lot of people around at the .time, the pool was drained."
The bodies were moving rhythmically. Vernon strained to think clearly. There was something he'd never told anyone. He thought it might be important to the cop's investigation but he didn't want to tell it in front of Portia.
"Play with my tits while you do that," Portia begged as Vernon sat silently trying to think. Burt began to fuck with more enthusiasm. Portia threw her hips into it and and the whole water bed began to rock just like her tits.
The heat in her pussy was getting to Burt who couldn't stop moving. Her body heat, the tightness of her exquisite pussy and the softness of her body was heating him up again. His cock, which was only slightly enlarged, had returned to full strength and was asserting itself in her warm body. He raised his hips and drove his cock into her. Vernon felt his cock harden. His hand unconsciously stole to his organ and he began moving it along the considerable expanse of his freakisly big cock.
All conversation stopped. There was so much cum in Portia's pussy that it was extra hot. The heat worked on Burt and while Vernon stroked his cock with his hand, the fucking couple next to him began to grunt and moan in unison. Burt's hips crashed down on Portia hard! The bed sloshed. Burt's chest turned red and his cock spat out its cum into her flooded pussy. "Un, un, un, oh, yes, yes."
"Umph! Ah! Get it!"
Burt pulled his spent cock out of her cunt-still oozing pearly cum and hard as ever. Vernon couldn't help himself; as Burt rolled over on his back, Vernon dived down between Portia's legs and greedily began sucking Burt's cum out of her cunt. His lips and tongue were so busy he was unaware of the fact that his hands were clasping her thighs so tightly that he was leaving bright red marks on her legs.
Burt watched the hungry cunt-lapping with fascination. Vernon could really suck it up. Portia squeezed her hefty breasts and Burt saw one dark nipple pop out between her fingers. He stretched over and sucked it.
"Oh, God, you men are sent from heaven!"
Vernon lapped and sucked and when he had drained her pussy, he stuck his nose in it and tried to fuck her with it. Portia almost cried with happiness. Eventually it had to stop, and when it did Portia reluctantly closed her legs. Fortunately it wouldn't be long till she was on duty and then there would be a procession of cocks to keep her happy.
When she looked around she saw Burt slipping into his uniform again. Somehow a drop of cunt juice had gotten onto the visor of his cap. Portia was the only one who noticed it and she decided not to tell him. She got off on the idea that a cop was walking around with her love gel sticking to his cap. She wished he'd stick his meaty cock to her again.
Vernon was entertaining some lustful thoughts of his own while watching the policeman bring his pants up over his buns. Quickly, the heavily-hung youth got up off the bed and stood by the door. He picked up the television set he'd quickly set down when he burst in on Portia being fucked.
When Portia reached for her hairbrush, sat up and began brushing her hair, Vernon tapped Burt on the arm and jerked his head to the side. Burt realized Vernon wanted him to go outside the room with him.
"I hope I'll have the pleasure of, er, interrogating you again, lady. That was first rate."
"That was nothing, Johnny Law, you should see me when I'm in season."
Vernon thought to himself that Portia was constantly in season. Dressed, Burt blew Portia a kiss and stepped into the hall. Vernon followed him and when the door had been closed behind him, he put his finger to his lips arid led Burt down the hall to an empty room.
"There's something I think you should know but I didn't want Portia to hear."
"Let's have it," ordered Burt, fully in command of himself once more. Vernon felt a tightening in his chest, he was dealing with a cop for sure.
"About that thing, I know something that might help you."
"Spill it."
"Before The Bird Woman hired me to hang around here as a little novelty for her patrons, I used to work a private night club, one of those expensive places where you can be entertained or take one of the performers to a private room, you know the kind of place I mean?"
"Go on."
"About a month before I left there the manager hired two girls to work the place. They used to play with each other in a room fixed up to look like a Turkish harem, big pillows, heavy with perfume, lots of hash in the air, you get the picture. They used to make love to each other by the hour in there and the customers would watch them. Oh, sometimes the guys used to pile in and fuck 'em, but mostly they'd just stand around and watch.
"One night a rich gay guy came in asking for me. He watched me give my show with one of the girls and then put a hundred dollar bill in her snatch and led me to the room he'd reserved. Luckily I can come many times, so I got in there and fucked him for hours. About every ten minutes he'd ask me to stop so he could take a breather. He'd light up a cigarette, smoke it, stub it out, and lie face down again. I'd hop aboard and plow away for another ten minutes. In the morning he counted the cigarette butts, in the ashtray and gave me a fifty dollar bill for each one. There were seventeen butts in the ashtray. I bought a car.
"The point is, every now and then he asks me up to his pad for a session. I don't get as much money, but I come away with a few bills. It's a good sideline. The reason I didn't want Portia to hear this is that she doesn't know I get it on with men and she's got a big mouth. When she isn't fucking, which is seldom, or sleeping, which is even less frequent, she's talking.
"She tells everything! She'll even tell you were here, but then we get about six or eight cops a week. They get paid off for something, no offense, can't bank the dough, don't want to bring it home to the little woman who'll know how he got it so they look for a way to spend it fast.
"What better way than to knock off a piece with one of the best pussies in town? Anyway, I don't want everyone to know my business."
"I'm not interested in the details of your private life, you got any info for me or not?"
"This guy, the gay guy, he has me up to his house often. A lot of people show up there. We smoke and blow, you know, we get down. One night he had the Asiatic guy up there. He's Malayan or something. All I know about him is that he's an addict. I don't know to what but he carries it in a little marble jar. I know its marble because it has veins running through it. It's about this size."
Vernon held up his index finger and his thumb to show that the object was about two inches high.
"It's all fancily carved and he keeps it on a gold chain around his neck. He's about fifty, very hefty, and he doesn't have a hair on his body. It's weird. I've seen the gay guy cover himself with baby oil and lie down on a rubber blanket and let this fat guy pour a whole bottle more of oil on him and then sit down on him, lie on him, slip and slide all over him. The gay guy keeps stuffing poppers into his nose and grunting and lets the fattie squash him and rub him and slide him around. It's freaky.
"He had a friend with him, a Puerto Rican cat named Paco. Some day Paco's going to poke himself to death."
Vernon illustrated his point by holding three fingers next to the vein in his arm and imitating a hypodermic needle being emptied into the vein. Burt understood his meaning.
"Paco is a stud; he's a hot fuck so the gay guy gets off on him. Since he and I were the only big cocks and we're both professionals, we didn't have sex with each other-we just serviced the gay guy, the Oriental, and another dude they had there. Paco came with a khaki knapsack, the kind students carry their shit in. They are war surplus for gas masks or something like that.
"He offered me a cigarette but discovered he'd run out. Naturally he went to his kit for another pack; that's when I saw them."
"Saw what?"
"A whole bunch of those things." Vernon pointed to the timing device. Burt's heart leaped in his chest. Instantly he had his note pad out and was writing.
"What's his full name?"
"All I know is that he's Paco, he's a head, and that he gets fifty dollars an hour from his Johns."
"You'd better come up with more information than that," threatened Burt, "or I'll have to take you in for withholding evidence."
Vernon's past was well documented in police files and he didn't want to add to his dossier.
"Man, I'm not withholding anything, I'm volunteering this information."
"Where can I reach this Paco?"
"I honestly don't know, I could put you in touch with my John, he might know; at least he'd know where to reach the fat Oriental who probably is keeping Paco."
The maid opened the door for Burt as he was ready to leave. Instantly the fantastically attired madam was in the hall. She spoke sharply.
"Officer!"
Burt wheeled around, his hand on his revolver's handle through instinct. The Bird Woman smiled, her aging hands on her hips, the Spanish shawl's fringe swaying with her movement.
"Would you mind leaving by the tunnel entrance? I try to maintain a low profile on this street. A policeman coming out in broad daylight would not enhance my image with the old biddies who live on the block."
Burt smiled back. Why not accommodate the old gal? She'd provided him with a chance to knock off a piece upstairs.
"Thank you, Officer."
She took his arm and walked him downstairs and through the tunnel while chatting pleasantly about this and that. Just before she got to the rear entrance of the cigar store, she stopped, smiled again, and suggested he come back in civilian clothes one night when he would be in Manhattan again, off duty.
"Come back and have one on the house. It's a decided pleasure to have a good-looking young man around for a change."
Burt put his fingers to his visor, smiled, and left.
CHAPTER SIX
The older gay man had a private elevator to his apartment on the Upper East Side, one of Manhattan's chic neighborhoods. He opened the door himself. His eyes betrayed no surprise when he saw a cop in uniform.
"I didn't ask the service to send anyone this afternoon."
"I'm not from any service, I'm a police officer and I want to ask you a few questions. May I come in?"
The older man moved his head as if to say "Why not" and opened the door wider. It was then that Burt got the full impact of the man. His host closed the door with one hand, the other held a crystal long-stemmed wine glass half full of sherry. He was covered from the neck down in a caftan with dyed ostrich feathers around the bottom. He wore sapphire rings, Burt counted three, and couldn't help but notice that they matched the man's eyes, at least they would if his eyes weren't reddened by drink.
"Might I offer you some sherry?"
"Thanks, no, I'm on duty."
"Yes, of course; you police officers have something to do all day. I'm afraid I don't work, happily I am situated so that I can spend all my time enjoying myself. Well, sit down.
"I suppose," the esthete queen went on, "you're here because I've transgressed the law in some outrageous manner. Everything I do is outrageous, according to my family; they find me an embarrassment. Poor dears, I'm too tender-hearted to let them know how utterly prefabricated I find them. I'd rather eat a plate of scabs than even be in their presence. But you couldn't possibly find them interesting, nobody could."
He rolled his eyes heavenward, meaning he included God in his last phrase. Burt couldn't help but find him amusing.
Quickly Burt outlined what he'd heard from Vernon and the fact that he was interested exclusively in tracing the timing device which he showed to the man.
The queen crossed his legs. Burt saw for the first time that the man had bare feet and that there was a diamond set in the center of each of his toenails. Burt's mouth fell open as he leaned forward in disbelief. The queen noticed and smiled; he loved to astound people.
"Pretty, aren't they," he said, wiggling his toes. "I lose a lot of them because my toenails keep growing. Fortunately I have a charge account at Cartier."
He sipped his wine.
Burt got over his surprise and changed his expression to a stern business-like look. The queen gracefully put his wine glass on the coffee table and leaned back into the deep cushions of his luxurious couch.
"Let me see, Paco's real name is Francisco Jesus, I think it's Jesus; I know it's something messianic, ah! Emanuel, that's right, Francisco Emanuel Lopez. Do you want his address?" he added blithely.
Burt was losing patience, not because he didn't find the elegant enfante terrible entertaining, but because of the importance of his investigation. The queen noticed this and decided to tone down his affectation. He picked up a silver bell from the table and rang it patiently. From the kitchen area appeared the houseboy. One look at him and Burt knew the whole story.
He was in his late teens, well built, sexy, and arrogant. His pimply skin marred the fine line of his jaw and the one missing tooth bespoke his uneducated background. The home-made tattoo of the letters H-A-R-D across the fingers of his left hand rounded out his image completely.
"Philip, would you fetch my address book?"
Philip turned slowly away from his employer in a studied sexual way which had become second nature. Burt realized the look in Philip's eye was doing several things at once as it took him in. He was trying to make the queen pant for his manly sexuality, show Burt that he was really the one in charge of the old guy, and at the same time his eyes showed a great fear that Burt might be the stud who would replace him, cutting him off from the best meal ticket he'd ever had.
When he was around the corner out of sight, he took his chewing gum from the door jamb and put it back in his mouth.
Once the queen had his address book, he read out Paco's phone number and address. Next Burt wanted the address on the Oriental.
"Actually he's Indonesian, a very sensuous race. He's the one who taught me to eat food off a human body. Drinking, of course, is only indulged in by those of us who are fated to be precious."
When he had what he wanted, Burt folded his notebook, replaced it, stood and thanked his host who offered him his sapphired hand, palm down.
"Might we have the pleasure of your company again? You look delicious in that smart outfit; it clings so to your flesh."
Burt, who had seen "Jaws" and knew when he was about to be eaten alive, thanked him again and left.
On his way to the Indonesian's house, Burt wondered if his uniform didn't have an erotic effect on people. He'd never thought about that in Tablesville.
He found out that a police uniform, even though official, was just odd enough in Manhattan to arouse people's curiosity. He'd been used to noticing women looking at him on the street by now, but the women of New York seemed to have a sexier eye than those he was used to.
A tiny Asiatic girl, fully grown but doll-like in her daintiness, opened the door for him with a bow. She eyed the uniform and half smiled, bowed again and padded on silk-covered feet down the highly polished hall saying in a squeaky voice, "Misser in there. You go. Pretty time."
The odor of incense was overpowering.
He went through the door. Beyond it was only darkness. Apparently this was an ante-chamber to a larger room. He almost gagged on the incense. Cautiously he stepped into the darkness, then he realized why it was dark. There was a heavy dark drape separating the entrance from whatever lay beyond.
He saw lights from candles and shadowy figures. The first thing he recognized was one of the Oriental's henchmen holding a scaffold arrangement mounted on wheels. It looked like a very tall tripod. The henchman had his hat on. At the other side of the room was a dragon throne covered in pillows and jungle animal hides. Obviously, whoever sat there watched the rest of the room from an excellent vantage point.
At the moment no one was in the wide seat surrounded by pillows and hanging brocade.
Against the wall was the recumbent figure of the Indonesian lavishly clothed in a full-length dressing gown of Mandarin design. His one earring and bald head gleamed. He smiled broadly and touched his fingertips to each other. At his side stood another assistant; surprisingly he was in his shirt sleeves without a tie, no coat or hat. He snarled. Burt always thought such people could do nothing but snarl.
They didn't seem surprised to see Burt. One of the henchmen gestured to him to approach the obese man.
"Stand there."
Burt advanced to the spot indicated; he began to have a feeling that he was in the center of some kind of ritual. The fat man spoke.
"I love beautiful things, young man. Beautiful ceramics, beautiful paintings, beautiful women. If I may say so, I delight in beautiful performances, too. I believe this young lady, the exquisite Miss LaMont, can give a beautiful performance. I have given her several encouragements, haven't I, my dear?"
The obese hedonist looked to his right. Burt followed the line of his eye. Before the henchman's legs was a round black object. Staring at it Burt realized it was a black felt cloth covering some object.
At a nod from Mr. Five-By-Five, his flunky ripped the black cloth off the object. Beneath it was a wicker cage. It looked like a gigantic bird cage. Inside, crouched on all fours was a luscious girl, stripped naked.
She was hugging her knees, her head on the floor, her hair hanging over her face. The line of her pale back and the roundness of her curves, her thighs pressed against her tummy and breasts, was alluring to Burt, even in the press of his duty.
"You do want to see this delectable blossom plucked, don't you?"
"I'm on business. There are some questions...."
"They'll have to wait, now is time for pleasure. I'm going to enjoy this damsel and you'll have the vicarious satisfaction of watching me. Later we'll talk."
One of the assistants retreated only to return with the noisy tripod of metal. It looked like a child's swing framework, one of those baby swings that can be set up in an apartment. A large metal box at the top had a long electrical cord extending to an outlet. The metal frame was much sturdier and much larger than anything Burt had seen outside a body shop. Certainly it was bigger than the equipment at the playground where he did volunteer work. It was peculiar, too. Burt was about to learn what its unusual shape was designed for. The tough assistant brought the girl out of her cage, her arms pinned behind her back. The two men maneuvered the well-built teenager into the framework and pressed her back against the canvas web which wasn't exactly a seat, more of a back rest.
"Careful, boys. We don't want to mar the delicate epidermis."
The young girl's generous breasts bounced as she was pushed and bent into the canvas. A leather strap went around her neck and her head was held iback while it was buckled tightly in place. The men roughly pinned her arms away from her body in restraints. Her bare feet were still on the floor but the men picked them up and buckled heavy leather bridles around them, forcing her legs apart as if she were on a medical examining table. Her weight forced her to lie back on the canvas web.
All the leather was attached to a criss-cross of metal piping which hung from a central source at the top of the frame. Above it the motor was ready. The space below her was wide enough for a single bed to fit beneath.
The fat man rose from his throne and stepped down from the platforms elevating it. He was wrapped in a brocade garment which was part robe and part blanket. Burt had never seen such beautiful material with such intricate needle work. The heavy fat of his host's chest showed beneath the thick rolls of his neck. His one earring glistened in the candle light.
He waddled to a chaise-like settee. He was facing Burt, sitting with his back slightly supported and easily nesting in a mountain of pillows. He opened his robe. Behind him, one of the henchmen helped the obese man out of his garment. Burt stared at the naked man. He was hairless, except for a sparse few hairs struggling to grow above his crotch. His breasts sagged like one of those inexpensive statues sold as incense holders. He grinned from ear to ear.
"Boys, I don't believe our guest can see sufficiently. If he is to learn anything he should have a better vantage point. See what you can do."
The polite but aggressive assistant indicated the throne. Burt moved to it, sitting down so he had a perfect line of vision of the chaise on which the overfed Oriental was now resting his naked bulk.
The host sniffed something. He put the small vial aside and reached for his cock. It was not small, but looked undersized because of the rolls of fat surrounding it above and below, and on the sides too. His face turned red from the effects of whatever it was he had inhaled.
Burt's heart pounded as the boys went to the rack holding the girl. They rolled the structure with its beautiful prisoner to the chaise. The fatty licked his chops.
"Child, this is to be a night of pleasure," he whispered. "Perhaps more pleasure for me than for you, but the theme of our party is nonetheless pleasure."
The girl held her body tense. The men worked the metal frame over the chaise so she was suspended, ass hanging lowest, above the Oriental's mid-section.
He grinned up at her and blew a little of the smoke he was greedily taking into his lungs at her. Burt recognized it as a potent drug he'd been trained to identify. He smiled and winked at her.
"Now."
One assistant reached up and began to sway the girl's body in her harness swing. He clicked on the motor and the momentum was kept going by the electrical device on the top.
Her naked body swung fore and aft slowly over the excited Asiatic. Burt could tell this was not a new toy, he'd used it before. The men had easily positioned the contraption so her hanging ass just cleared the fat man as she was moved up to his face. All he had to do was move his head slightly and he could touch her pussy with his mouth.
"You see, young man," the host said to Burt, "a gentleman of my size would defeat himself if he mounted a woman. With a little imagination, however, and a little money, the situation can be worked to everyone's advantage."
He reached over to a table covered with sex supplies. His round finger put some salve or ointment or something on her cunt when the swinging harness brought the hairs of her young pussy up to his face.
The girl at first felt the ointment as ice cold. Almost immediately its effects made her cunt warm and excited.
Her petals began to open and the flower of her cunt blossomed for the luxuriating Oriental.
"Ahhh. You are a sweet Occidental beauty. I am going to consume your loveliness."
She was getting dizzy. The potent ointment and the smoke had made her high. Burt was convinced the reclining man wouldn't hurt her. He wanted her for sex. His goal, as he had said, was pleasure.
"Is this sight nauseating to you? Viewing the precious body of a luscious full-titted beauty used by one not of your race, and physically repugnant in the bargain?"
"Let's say I'm curious to see how you entertain yourself," Burt answered.
The girl watched as Burt firmed his jaw and fire burned in his eyes. Her possessor grinned triumphantly and the little boy in him showed for a moment. He was having big fun! He enjoyed being watched while he fucked but a lot of the fun was her body.
Her pussy swung to him and backed away but would present itself to him again. It swept from his face. It swoshed back to him. She came; she went.
Her fleshy hips hung from the brace with her smooth silken thighs parted. The lips of her pussy seemed to beckon his mouth. Her crotch hairs were dark and framed the pink softness glistening in the candle light. Her belly was round and looked like something to be kissed and touched.
Her fresh full mamillary rounds rolled with her sway. The dark caps cresting them looked like lone chocolate candies. He had a sweet tooth. The delectable offering was coming only to him. This was his.
Her dark hair hung down. It brushed his legs and feet. The delicate brushing stimulated his blood. It raced through his full body and came to attention in his cock. His dwarfed penis grew stronger and stood up for itself. It flexed itself and expanded its chest like a growing man. It strutted, bounced from foot to foot and took possession of its territory. It threw its head back and defied the universe. It was master.
His mouth puckered as her cunt came up to kiss him. His pudgy hands reached up and felt her ass. His other hand pushed a button and the swing took two more pendulum swings, slower than before. It stopped fully in one position, leaving the suspended woman hanging helplessly in his face.
His thin but pulsing lips reached out to taste her precious sugar. They sweetened themselves in the cotton-candy softness of her slippery bon bon. His tongue searched for more in the smooth confection chamber.
The Asiatic lustily worked his tongue to clean her bowl of goodies. His eager fingers imbedded themselves in her soft giving ass. He clutched selfishly at her tender flesh. "Mine, mine," she could hear him mutter to himself. She wasn't sure what he was saying and thought it could be, "More, more!"
He stretched his neck and put his fat hands farther in back of his bulky torso so his head would go farther into her crevice. He twisted his neck frantically, trying to touch all parts of her cunt at once. His tongue and lips worked with maddening speed to keep the tingle of their touch on all the surfaces at once.
"Give me that sweet cunt, it's mine."
The lush girl stopped trying to strain her eyes to see the expression on his face. His cunt eating was pleasurable to her. Burt had no sense of the good feelings she was experiencing. All he saw was her writhing body and the rhythmic contact it made with her master's grossness.
As he watched the beauty's hips move from side to side under the pressure of the Oriental's tongue lashing, he wanted to taste it, too.
The captive woman's eyes filled with joy as she felt the thrill of this expert and experienced man eating her cunt. She hiked one hip, then the other, in attempts to increase contact with his probing tongue. The lack of leverage prevented her from succeeding. Tell-tale moans and mewlings escaped her.
"My pet! My love! I taste your treasure chest."
His conversation was erratic, but she found it stimulating. The fat man was getting flushed in the face. His potent cock was eager for action.
"Now! Now!" he bellowed to his assistants.
The henchmen instantly came from their respective distances and moved the hoist. One pressed a lever which started the motor. The hoist lowered its cargo of female nakedness. He propped his cock up so her descending pussy aligned itself with his jutting organ. It was dripping with the secretions his tongue-wagging had provoked in her. The head of his cock was swollen and even Burt could see the demarcation of the hole in its end. The girl tightened her hips and tried valiantly to grasp his prick.
Using the weight of her own body, the way she was suspended, and her aroused sexual desires, she squirmed for the fat man.
"Ahhhh!"
The beauty felt his cock slip between her lips as he said it. She whimpered. The machinery was lowering her onto his cock which became sheathed to the base in her warm folds. He touched another lever. The engine worked harder and the whole harness apparatus rose and fell, dropping the helpless woman onto his cock at the speed he chose with his controlling fingers.
Her pussy sloshed up and down on his cock. Her thrashing hips added to the thrill for him. He loved to see her struggle above him, helpless. Her exceptional clit was bent and smeared. His fat prick slid against it while her plump ass bounced as the apparatus drove her down onto the fat male.
He rolled his hefty hips a bit to churn her insides with his cock.
"Beautiful, warm, uhhhhh, yeah!"
His puffy fingers went to his own breasts and he twisted the ends of his nipples as his eyes drank in the sight. He had a voluptuous full-breasted woman thrashing up and down on his hard cock.
The pile-driving action forced her invaded pussy down and his eyes were almost round he stared so hard at her bouncing flesh, her breasts plopping.
"Luscious woman!"
She cried and panted and clasped her cunt tightly every time she got all the way down on his cock. Her body responded to the stimulating ointments and the rubbing of tho smooth cock penetrating her tender inner cunt. The pressure against her clit made her no longer responsible for the actions of her impassioned body.
The obese man tickled his tits.
"The oil! Get the oil."
Quickly the henchmen got into action. They put on rubber smocks. Burt couldn't figure out what was going to happen. His mind raced, and he imagined they were covering their clothing because they were going to do some butchering and didn't want blood on their clothes. He felt for his gun.
Their smocks were tight at the wrists, floor length, and high at the neck. The fasteners were in back and they had to buckle each other into the outfits, like doctors preparing for surgery.
In all this specialized opulence the appearance of a giant size plastic bottle of Johnson's baby lotion seemed ludicrous. Yet that was what one of the men picked up from a shadowy corner.
He approached the frame harness, flicked a switch and the machinery stopped. The captive woman was impaled on her owner's prick. He flicked another switch and her harness climbed up, pulling her clutching pussy off his hard cock. Her cunt made a noise as it slipped free. The machine raised her a good three feet above the recumbent figure.
. The lacky opened the bottle of oil and while his employer looked up, poured it over his fat Asiatic body. Breathing heavily, he twisted his tits and let his tongue hang out of his mouth. Each drop falling on his roly-poly body seemed to thrill him. The other henchman bent over the Oriental and spread the oil over his voluminous surface with his palms. He moaned and "ahhed" as the oil spread over his greasy flesh. Burt stopped thinking about everything and watched in fascination, spellbound by the ritual.
While he was being smeared with the spreading oil, the other man was rearranging the girl's harness. He loosened each restraint slightly and then did something with the metal bar which held her weight next to the motor. She felt her feet dropping. She was actually able to stand up. Her arms were still pinned in the heavy leather bands and chained to the machinery.
He twisted her body around, taking care to do it gently. He easily lifted one willing leg and had it clasped in the restraint again but this time she was forced to lie face down. He grasped her other leg and secured it. She was now suspended face down over the chaise which was easily moved under her.
Her pleasure-loving host reached up and smeared generous amounts of oil on the parts of her body he could reach. His slippery fingers went back to his own breasts and he pinched them gently to stimulate his sex glands.
Another deep draft from the pipe and he was set. The machine was activated again and the pendulum commenced. The beauty swayed toward his face and away. One assistant stood beside the machine and adjusted the levers so she was gradually lowered to just the right height. This meant her hanging tits and torso were just rubbing against the rolls of stomach of the man below her.
He lowered it another notch. She pressed against her possessor each time she was swung that way. The man groaned in pleasure. His throat sounds got louder, more urgent. The faithful assistant stepped back into the shadows again.
The slithering of the girl's body onto the mound of flesh made her tits hard. The eyes below her were glassy with sensuality. Each nerve end of his body tingled at the sliding touch of the beautiful woman. He reached for her cunt and poked two fingers in it, letting them drag his hand up and down in the easy sway of his captive woman. His other hand tightened its touch on his rock-hard nipple. , Burt was surprised to hear the fat man wheeze, "Come closer, policeman, witness my ecstasy!"
His voice was too excited to mean anything but that his climax was near.
"Come here. Look!"
His twisting fingers and panting breath drew every eye. The girl's swinging body smeared itself over his oily fat. His rampant cock was much brighter in color than before. Burt stepped closer to gape at the show. The fat voluptuary was making inarticulate noises in his throat. Suddenly his hips began to vibrate. The skin holding his balls crinkled and tightened. Animal grunts came out of his mouth.
"Ahh! Unnn! Ough! Ough!"
His sperm shot into the air. It bounced off the shapely girl's swinging body. It flowed freely over his hand. It splashed when it landed on his belly and legs. Everyone held perfectly still. The woman strained her neck to see the droplets shower the man. She could feel them hit her body.
When the greased man's grunts had subsided, he lay panting heavily, his arm extended.
"Why do you use that contraption?" Burt asked, ignoring the woman in the contraption.
"Alas, my physician has concluded that because of my great bulk I should never attempt to have sex in what is humorously called 'Missionary Position'. I must devise other ways of reaching satisfaction without making my sensuous but imperfect body strain its life-giving heart. Indeed, sex itself has been rationed to weekly moments of joy. Would you like a drink?"
The henchmen brought two glasses of wine.
"We finished our little rendezvous," Burt's host calmly announced, "and I am happy to report this luscious young morsel is happily along the road to adulthood. Thank you for making it an exotic pleasure, my dear. Release her."
An assistant stepped forward and released her chains and restraints. Her oily body was lowered to the floor where she found it difficult to stand; there was oil on the soles of her feet. While the faithful attendants rubbed his great bulk with soft towels to take off the glistening oil, the fat Indonesian asked Burt who he was and how he'd gotten in.
When Burt told him he had simply been greeted and shown in, the man didn't bat an eye. His servant had greeted dozens of men and women who came for sex and she naturally assumed that a handsome young man in a kookie outfit was just one more sex partner for her employer.
It had happened many times; once a door-todoor religious proselytizer had been shown into the inner chamber and fainted dead away at the satanic sight.
Burt questioned the man while his assistants washed his body with soap and water. The girl had been led away to get her clothes and her money and go on to more mundane sexual entertaining.
"These timing devices you are so interested in came from my import shop; I recognize the inventory markings here on the side. I rented a warehouse near the docks and they were stored there. I had to hire a guard, there was a lot of stock missing from time to time. Anyone might have stolen it."
Burt was frustrated. Did the trail end here in this rich Oriental's pleasure dome? He took out his notebook and wrote down the address of the warehouse, asked a few more questions about Paco and began to leave, stumped in his investigation.
The fat man was completely clothed in a shapeless floor-length robe of silk. He was putting his fifth ring on his pudgy fingers when he looked up from the glistening stones.
"There is someone who might be able to shed some light on your inquiry. Lee, give this official gentleman Lars's phone number."
Burt went back to the station house, the other emergency cops were all there. It was an up-dating session MacDonald had arranged on the theory that one man might come across something that by itself might not mean much, but coupled with the information gathered by another investigator, would yield something.
CHAPTER SEVEN
They were ten minutes into the meeting. Bud was flipping through his notebook reading aloud to the others any entry he thought might be useful. Burt was looking around the room at the ragtag group of demolition experts and trained law enforcers who had been brought together by the emergency.
Bud turned over another page and continued reading. " ... a warehouse guard named Lars Engle-heart. There was one more man questioned. He ... "
"Hold it!" barked Burt, jumping to his feet. His fellow officers jerked to look at him. MacDonald blinked.
"You got something, Showalter?"
Burt had stood up so fast he'd toppled his own notebook off his lap onto the floor and had to bend over and pick it up. They all knew about the timing device so Burt went right into the name and location of the warehouse.
"Yeah," said Bud, reading his notes, "that's the place he worked. Must be the same suspect."
Instantly all the cops pooled their thinking. MacDonald made quick and correct judgments. He dispatched a squad car to bring in Lars. Burt volunteered the name of Francisco Emanuel Lopez, "Paco," and another car sped through Manhattan to round him up.
Lars wasn't at home! His neighbor volunteered his whereabouts. The neighbor was an older unkempt woman in a dirty housecoat who saw the policemen when she opened her door to empty garbage into an already-filled container. Her orange peels and coffee grounds spilled across the filthy hallway linoleum. The ritual must have been time-honored because she didn't seem to notice she'd deposited her refuse over a three-foot area.
"Lars? That sick faggot is over at his boyfriend's house. Repulsive perverts! I can hear them right through the wall when they're doing their unnatural acts. They pant and bellow and moan and slurp; it's disgusting."
"These walls seem pretty thick," volunteered one of the policemen, "it's an old building, how can you hear so much through the walls?"
"Well, you have to put a glass to your ear, but then you can hear what it is they're doing. Shameful!"
She knew where Engleheart's boyfriend lived. She led the cops into her aromatic apartment and to a window, which hadn't been washed, inside or out, for several years. She positioned herself at an angle painful to hold and pointed across the street to an equally rundown tenement.
"That's the window, the top one on the left. The blinds are closed now but when it's night and they think nobody can see in, they do the most loathsome things right in public view. Here, use these binoculars, you can see what I'm talking about. You policemen oughta protect society from such depraved freaks. We pay our taxes, yah oughta protect our standards instead of letting those faggots undermine the moral fiber of the nation. I'm a taxpayer, I demand you arrest those disgusting perverts."
"They're taxpayers too, lady."
"Yeah, but we pay more taxes, we should have things our way."
The cops couldn't wait to get away from the stench of her filthy den. An empty tin of cat food was sitting on the armrest of the couch. On the floor below it was a turned over beer can, dusty. The odor of rotten food wafted to their nostrils from the kitchen as they closed the door behind them.
Outside on the street the cops were just crossing to Lars Engleheart's boyfriend's building when the second squad car pulled up. The two officers were surprised to see it contained other bomb team members whom they had just left at MacDonald's briefing. Once they realized that the boyfriend was Paco they were sure they were on the right track.
Upstairs on the top floor, Paco and Lars, a tall blond, were doing what they did best-fucking. On the floor next to their clothing was a brown paper parcel containing six of the timing devices.
Paco had mixed drinks but they never finished them. They left their clothes where they fell and moved toward each other. Lars slid his hands around Paco's waist and pulled him to him. Lars kissed him softly on the face, then on the lips. He took his hand and led him to the bed.
Paco knelt on the bed, propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to bring Lars down on top of him. They put their arms around each other and rolled into the middle of the bed. Paco landed on the top and he crawled all over Lars's body, slowly planting kisses on his neck and shoulders.
Lars spent a lot of time working his tongue around Paco's tits which made him twitch. He crawled up Paco's body dragging his tongue up from his foot to his shin, kneecap, thigh, and then zigzagged across his stomach and ended up in his armpit. He wound his tongue in the hairs there.
Lars softly exhaled in Paco's ear which gave him the shivers. Paco couldn't stand it any more, so to make Lars stop, he kissed him on the mouth. He fell into Paco's exploring mouth with his tongue. When he had learned all he wanted to know about the inside of Paco's mouth he pushed him off. Paco crawled backward on his hands and knees and began sucking his rampant cock.
Paco's technique was to slide slowly down the length of the fat cock then slowly come back up, then down once more. He'd practiced and finally took the length of it with ease. After a deep breath he went back to his deft cocksucking. Instead of just slowly going up and down, he wanted to make it more complicated and pleasurable.
He began twisting his mouth as he descended Lars's shaft. He gave his neck a screwing action. He twisted his head as he came back up. His mouth was turning Lars' cock into a corkscrew. The twisting became more pronounced, firmer, and faster. Paco wound around it as he went down and unwound as he came back up. His well-defined ass was prominently up in the air, his upper legs were straight as he knelt on the huge bed and steadily worked on Lars's throbbing cock.
Paco forgot about the times they'd made it together before. This was a new experience.
"Paco ... Paco."
Paco drew his wet mouth off Lars's reddened and straining prick. "What?"
"Come with me to the bathroom."
"Why?"
"I've got an urge."
Paco was so hot he didn't question Lars's reasons but hopped off the bed and led him to the John.
The bath was Paco's pride and joy. Once, while doing some volunteer work for a charity organization, he'd had occasion to visit a junk shop. There he found a large marble tub casing which had been painted over. He'd been an art major in school and instantly recognized it as an exceptionally fine piece of workmanship. He put something down on it on the spot and hurried home to begin redoing the bathroom around the tub.
It had cost several thousand dollars by the time he was finished. To do it up the way he wanted he had to break out a wall. That was okay with him, he didn't want a breakfast nook anyway. He told friends he "withtook the nook" and had lots of room for a quasi-Roman bath. The big rectangular tub was in the center of the bath. The pot and a stall shower were on one side and a large fancy dressing area was on the other.
Paco had lush green plants suspended on chains from the ceiling. There was even a reading light over the tub for long luxurious soaks.
Lars held Paco by the arms and said, "When I was in the clink Bull Roberts would occasionally get angry with me. I was his doormat from time to time. Once he got so mad he dragged me into the shower, shoved me naked into a corner, had some of his buddies keep the trustee away, and pissed all over me. It was not the disgusting thing I thought it would be. I'd like to do that to you, Paco. Lie down on your back in the tub."
Obediently, Paco did as he was told. Lars mounted the tub and straddled him as if he was the Colossus of Rhodes, his feet planted firmly on either side. The tension in the room was electric. Paco looked up at his friend and Lars gazed down at a man for whom he had real affection. Paco's cock was bouncing with anticipation. His head spun with the implications of what they were about to do. Lars held his meaty cock in his hand pointing its opening at Paco's chest. They both held their breath.
The cops were upstairs by this time and pressed the door buzzer.
A tense Lars, about to piss on his lover, was so startled by the sound of the unexpected buzzer that he turned quickly, slid off the slick edge of the marble, and lost his balance. He had nothing to grab onto and went ass-first into the tub landing on top of Paco.
The trained cops realized the apartment door was open and came in, following the sound to the John, their guns drawn. Paco peered out from under his lover's body over the edge of the tub at the surprise of his life.
"What are you two doing?"
At that particular moment Paco didn't feel like explaining the tradition of water sports. He felt like a child caught stealing from the kitchen jar. He attempted to stammer out some sort of noncommittal explanation.
Lars, struggling to his feet, tried to offer some sort of explanation as well, which only made them feel more foolish. The four cops enjoyed the situation.
At that point, one of the cops noticed the package, became suspicious about its shape, and opened it up. Paco and Lars were in the jailhouse in seven minutes. In nine minutes they were strapped to chairs and being barraged with questions.
"Where'd you get 'em?"
"How long have you been handling explosives?"
"Can you give us proof that you weren't at the airport just before that bomb went off?"
"Where do you get your supplies?"
The two lovers were confused and terrified. Burt realized they could go bananas any minute and freak out so far that the cops wouldn't be able to get coherent information out of them for days.
"All right, fellas, all right. I can handle these two all by myself. Give me some working space. Take a break, all of you."
Burt used his traffic-directing voice to herd the stern-looking cops out of the room. Once he'd emptied the room he closed the door and was alone with the frightened young men bound to office chairs.
"Officer, honest, we don't know nuthin' 'bout explosives."
"I swear to you on my mother's grave...."
"Take it easy, just keep cool."
"What are you going to do to us? We ain't hurt nobody."
"Did my neighbor sic you onto us??? She's a mean bitch, man; she hates my guts! She'll say anything, she crazy, I swear to you...."
"Shut up!"
Burt's drill instructor's voice brought them up with a start. Each let his head drop, resigned to whatever was to happen. Paco, who was particularly good looking in a Latin-lover way, began to form tears. He was afraid he'd be beaten up and not be as good looking once it was all over. He could feel his heart beating violently.
"Now look, you two, you know what's going on in this town, bombs are going off without warning, killing innocent people."
"But, officer, we didn't...."
"Shhhhh. Quiet. I know you didn't do anything with bombs. I have eyes and I can see. You're not demented, either of you, and you're too well adjusted to want to blow things up. Political extremists? Possibly, but I'd say no, the way you dress is too studied for you to be revolutionaries. Bombers aren't chic, so I know you're innocent. What we want is the story behind these things."
He picked up one of the timing devices.
"Where'd you get 'em?"
Lars began to get tears in his eyes this time. His mouth was dry as he tried to speak. "I ... I ... I stole them."
Burt sat back. He instantly felt a surge of relief pass through him; he knew they were near the end of their search.
"From the warehouse where you work?"
"How'd you know?"
"That's our business to know. What'd you do with 'em?"
Lars was silent. He hung his head. Momentarily Burt saw dark spots appear on the front of Lars's cashmere sweater then turn pale as his tears were absorbed by the fabric.
"Answer me, fella, what did you do with 'em?"
Lars was afraid to speak. He was undergoing the tortures of the damned. He could sense Burt's growing impatience and that scared him even more. Burt had been sitting on the corner of a desk in front of him but was beginning to rise. He had to say something quickly.
"Can I tell you alone?"
"Spill it, boy, I want an answer!" The friendliness had left Burt's voice and the drill sergeant had taken over.
Terrified, Lars squeaked out, "Oh God, Paco, forgive me."
A tidal wave of tears rushed from Lars's eyes and his body jerked with a pitiable hopelessness. Burt had to get him a tissue because his nose was draining.
Burt realized there was no need for the restraints and cut them both free. Lars stood up, still crying, his longish blond hair hanging over his face as his body jerked with sobs. He went to Paco, put his arms around him and cried and cried and cried on his shoulder. Burt gave them a respectful moment and then went back to his questioning.
"Tell me."
"Forgive me, Paco. I promised you I'd be faithful and I tried. Officer, see, we're gay, you know that. We're not sposs'd ta get it on with chicks, right? We agreed we'd be faithful. But Pac, sometimes I just want a woman. I mean I really love you, but sometimes I just want to fuck cunt.
Do you see where I'm coming from? Not all the time, but every now and then."
Burt was beginning to wonder what any of this had to do with his connection to the timing device.
"I met this hooker, a prostitute. She liked me even though she knew I was gay, she kept wanting me to take her to bed. She kind of like tried to sell me, you know? Finally she was coming on strong just when I was in one of those gotta-get-me-some-pussy moods. So I went up to her place.
"You ever been in a whore's bedroom? They got pictures of all their favorite Johns. Some of 'em are taken on picnics, at dances, the whole schmeer. They got these souvenir photos and they tell you stories: 'This one had no cock but he was very generous; I had to get an abortion for him; that one had a heart attack right in my bed, God, was I scared'; like that.
"My point is, I got to seeing her steady, once every couple of months. I could talk to her, you know? She understood I loved you but I had these urges. She didn't try to keep me with her, and she never charged me. She likes me. Do you hate me for telling you all this?"
"I don't hate you. I loathe you! You're deceitful! You lied. And with a fish, ugh!"
"But, Pac, I can't help myself...."
"Stay away from me!"
"That's it," shouted Burt, slapping his hand on the desk. "Do I have to bring the whole detail in here to get the facts out of you? I'm out of patience."
"All right, all right. I'm explainin'. I see her a lot and she knows a lot of guys. She knows I'm at a warehouse so she asks me one time, could I bring her some samples of the kind of apparatus we got there. Seems she's got a steady John who had been asking her where to get hold of one of those things. She says we could both make a little money because this John's very rich and doesn't mind paying a finder's fee plus the price of the merchandise."
"That's when we wanted to go to Puerto Rico, remember?" he said, looking at Paco. "So I thought I could use the money and besides, it wasn't really stealing, I was getting rid of some old junk the squint-eyed guy wasn't getting off his shelf anyhow. Recycling, like."
Burt marvelled at the human mind's ability to rationalize.
"So I brought one with me next time I went to see her. A couple of weeks after that I hear Coddie, that's her name, Coddie Striffer, she's hunting high and low for me and she tells me the rich john wants all I can get of those things."
Burt's heart leaped. He quickly opened the door and summoned the others. Lars and Paco became frightened all over again.
MacDonald came in with his men, impatient to know what Burt had learned. Quickly Burt assigned men to details, pissing off MacDonald whose job he was usurping...." and Dawson, bring in a hooker named Coddie Striffer, that one'll give you the description. Sorry, Chief, but I knew you'd want this done fast and it would take longer to explain it to you than to start the ball rolling myself."
"Okay, you're a big fish in a little pond back home and you're hot to be a big fish in the big pond. Forget it, you don't have the footwork for this town. What's the scoop?"
The other officers, seeing that there was no fight coming from MacDonald and that Burt was briefing him succinctly as to what he'd learned from the gay guys, set about their assignments anxious to get the central part of the investigation into high gear.
"...and MacDonald, will you do me a favor?" asked Burt sotto voce. "When you put those two in the clink as material witnesses, don't put them in with a bunch of animals who'll tear up their asses. They're sensitive, decent guys. Give 'em a break."
"Now we have to cater to fags, huh? I don't know what you hick town badges are coming to. I'll take care of 'em," he said in a fatherly tone, his Irish eyes looking mischievous.
"Thanks, Chief."
The two men liked each other.
MacDonald called a special meeting of his detail and briefed them all on the hottest lead they had turned up. Cops all over town were looking for Coddie Striffer. Her hotel room had been gone over with a fine-tooth comb within two hours of Burt learning her name. Paco and Lars, being held as witnesses, were allowed to share the same cell. They were not moved to the overcrowded city prison, but kept in the detention cells in a precinct house. Their bodies would not be violated by other prisoners.
No one could find Coddie Striffer. It was as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth.
By this time the newspaper people had gotten wind that the cops were on to something. Reporters rushed around town trying to track down the story. Their leads were all circumvented through clever reassigning by MacDonald and not one reporter had been able to interview a cop on his emergency staff. Bud and Jerry had been ushered out the rear door of a station house just as a gaggle of reporters charged up the front stairs.
MacDonald spent most of his time at his desk coordinating all that was going on. However, he had to eat, so Burt joined him at a nearby coffee shop where they greedily wolfed down a London Broil dinner. Over their coffee they gave each other ideas and hypothetical possibilities of where the investigation would lead.
The meal did more than clear their minds and nourish their bodies, it cemented a growing friendship. The waitress had just brought them a second cup of coffee when one of the men from the station house burst in the cafe, looked anxiously around till he found Burt and MacDonald in a booth and walked quickly to their table.
"Chief, there's been another blast."
The cops threw money on the table and left so quickly they upset a coffee cup.
The phone on MacDonald's desk was ringing when he opened his door. A handful of reporters was being held at bay in another part of the building. The police radio was flashing and buzzing to beat the band. Men were running throughout the building. Squad cars slipped in and out of the station house parking lot.
"Where was the explosion?"
"In the Soho area; a loft building used by a sculptor is on the second floor, a bakery on the street. The top floor was unoccupied."
"It doesn't sound like the usual pattern for our maniac, usually they go off at public gathering places. Could it have been an explosion caused by a faulty gas connection?"
"We're investigating that possibility, Chief, but my guess is that the bomber was trying for the building next door. It's a school."
"Holy shit! We've got to do an even more intense public relations thing to keep people oTf our backs. Has the mayor been notified?"
"The local precinct captain down there is showing him the damage right now. There's photographers all over the place."
"The morning papers will crucify us. Shit, pull another detail off illegal parking and put them on the search for that hooker. She's our best lead right now. We've got to find her. Anyone who is even a little reluctant to answer questions, bring 'em in. It's not impossible that one of them is our man. Get going!"
Burt went to the John. While he was relieving himself he thought. He began listing all the places that had been the sites of explosions. He counted an airport, that artist's loft, a shopping center in Queens, two apartment buildings in the Bronx, a restaurant in Wall Street, a garage down by the docks in Brooklyn, and an office building in Manhattan.
He strained his brain to think of some connection between them. There didn't seem to be any. He heard a lot of commotion in the hall, finished up, and hurried out to see what the excitement was all about.
It turned out that an unexploded bomb had been defused by the demolition men and was being examined in the lab. MacDonald explained to him that it had exactly the same kind of timing device they'd found in the gay guys' bedroom and in the elevator.
"Where was this bomb planted?"
"In the basement of a church."
"A church! We're in big trouble."
"Sir, the governor is on the phone."
MacDonald turned ashen and picked up the receiver. Those around him stood with bated breath while the experienced officer listened. Burt formed the impression that MacDonald was acting just like a grammar school student who was being called on the carpet. The short conversation concluded with MacDonald saying, "Yes, sir ... yes, sir ... yes, sir....Thank you, Governor, good-bye."
Every eye was on MacDonald as he returned the receiver to its cradle.
"He's mobilizing the national guard. They'll be guarding every public building in town by midnight. He didn't dump on us, men, he just wanted us to know how concerned he was. He thinks we are doing everything we can. Nevertheless, the ultimatum is clear: solve this damn thing or the state will step in."
The arrival of the uniformed guard would make the city look as if it were under martial law. It hurt the pride of the force to think there was something going on in their city which they were unable to handle. MacDonald was determined to press the investigation hard so they could clear it up before soldiers took up their posts.
"I want every man on the force to look for that woman. Haul in every hooker within fifty miles if you have to. Blast her description over the radio, television, out of town, everywhere-only find her!"
The head of every major party in the state was on the phone to the commissioner of police. The commissioner's wife had to move over to her sister's because her whole house had become virtually another police station. She had migraine anyway, and the constant ringing of the phones was too much. Her busy husband didn't wonder where she was for twelve hours. He didn't inquire for sixteen.
The phone company appealed to the public to stop calling the police department; they were clogging the lines and real emergency calls were not getting through.
Public figures went before the television cameras to appeal to the citizens not to make the job of finding the bomber more difficult by reporting false explosions. News bulletins interrputed every television show.
It took six hours but the city police finally came up with Coddie Striffer. She was found, embarrassingly enough, in the city jail.
Faces were red, but not for long because the facts soon came out that Coddie was not recognized because her fingerprints were not on file. She had never been busted. Further, she was in the medical unit, bruised quite unrecognizably over her entire face and swathed in bandages.
Coddie had gotten into that state on a busy avenue at rush hour where she was run over by a unicycle. The one-wheeled bicycle was ridden by a dwarf who had undeveloped arms. He usually carried his belongings in a knapsack and whizzed through pedestrian traffic in a manner often called miraculous. This time, however, Coddie was looking over her shoulder for a John and the man on the unicycle had to quickly dodge a toddler, so they collided.
The unicycle man was quite vocal in his accusations as a result of his collision with Coddie because in the spilling and sprawling he lost a tooth. To a malformed dwarf the loss of a tooth is quite a blow.
"That top-heavy broad didn't look where she was going; she walked against the light."
Coddie was only a semi-hardened streetwalker so she had been embarrassed when she fell down, skidded, rolled onto her back, and came to a stop with her skirt up over her face. She was all the more embarrassed because the laughing crowd observed clearly that she wore no panties. They roared and gave cat calls.
"Yah motherfuckers can kiss my ass!" had been her rejoinder.
The injured dwarf demanded that she be arrested because he fully intended to sue her for the price of a new tooth. If she was arrested at the scene it would strengthen his case. In the half-comic confusion that ensued no one seemed to notice the injuries to Coddie's face till she discovered she had a bloody nose. Her "wahhhhahah" curdled blood for thirty-five feet in all directions.
An ambulance delivered them both to the same hospital. The attendants figured he's so short, why mess up a whole fresh linen stretcher just for him, so they popped him right up next to Coddie, his face right at her tit.
The dwarf berated her the whole trip to the hospital, getting angrier and angrier as he bounced at every bump in the road. When the attendants opened the doors to remove the stretcher, he was so fire-breathing mad that he was jumping up on top of Coddie and biting her tit.
"Ouuuu! Get the earwig off me!"
One attendant, who had children, picked the squirming man off her and held him up in the air while others took Coddie away on the stretcher, her face now beginning to feel the painful burning the skid across the sidewalk had caused her.
Because the unicyclist created such a disturbance, the police ultimately booked both injured parties till it could be untangled. By the time it was decided to book her, Coddie was so bandaged up it was impossible to identify her by sight.
Burt was among the team which went to interview her in the hospital.
Because so many people who obviously weren't doctors were hovering around, Coddie eventually concluded that she was some kind of V.I.P.; everyone was anxious to please her. She decided to use that as her trump.
"Sure, I'll answer some questions for yuse officers, if'n you'll do one teeny little favor fer me-git that fuckin' dwarf off my back! I won't answer no questions unless all them charges he made are taken off and my arrest record is like erased, huh. Is it a deal?"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Coddie was sipping water through a clear glass straw as Burt pulled up a straight-backed chair and began his interrogation. Her eyes kept searching his face for some telltale sign that he was trying to trip her up or make her confess to something. She had stayed out of jail her whole career and for a hooker that was some achievement. She wasn't about to have herself arrested because of a stupid accident with a freak on a fuckin' one-wheeled bicycle!
He skipped the preliminary questions he was trained to ask first off, he figured the hospital had all the vital statistics already and he could get that information from their files. His intent was to save time and get to the heart of the matter.
Coddie got the picture. She was just about to tell him about the John who was interested in the funny-looking clock with all the works showing when the hospital room door flew open and a newspaper man with a camera burst into the room. He had, snapped two pictures before Burt was off the chair and had wrestled the camera from his hand.
Coddie was favorably impressed by the speed with which Burt had moved. He was some cop, cute too. In spite of her bandaged condition and her pain she began to feel sexy toward the good-looking cop. Burt showed the reporter out into the hall and yelled loudly for the guard who was supposed to be stationed right outside Cod-die's door to get back to his post. The cop had been flirting with one of the nurses. He left her in mid-sentence and rushed back to his post. If it had been MacDonald who had caught him off station he would have been brought up on departmental charges. Burt gave him a look that shamed, him thoroughly.
Coddie squirmed in her hospital bed.
"Officer," she cooed, "I know I don't look like much right now, but I'm really a very attractive girl under all this gauze. Would you do a bedridden girl a favor?"
"I'll do anything I can to help you but I must get some information first."
"See, I figure it this way. I'm helping you, you can do the same for me. I'm going to be stuck here for some time, aren't I? Well, how about easing my pain with a little relaxation? Why don't you climb in here and soothe my jangled nerves?"
Burt was a little taken aback. Coddie ran her arm up and down her body, showing him clearly how well she was built. Behind her bandaged face she was smiling as best she could under the circumstances. Burt was amused but not excited sexually. He had too many important pressures burdening his head to think about screwing.
Coddie sensed that she wasn't going to get any dick from him. He stood up, put his notebook down on the bed and ran his hands around his belt, stuffing a little more of his shirt into his trousers. He laid his proposition on the line.
"Tell you what I'll do, miss: I'll see you get a little romance after you've answered all my questions. Deal?"
"Deal, but I don't want a little, I want a lot."
"Fair enough."
Eagerly, Coddie began telling him all he wanted to know. She gave color of eyes, height, weight, frequency of visits, bits of conversation, anything she thought might be helpful. One thing she said struck Burt's ear as not exactly important, but he couldn't get it out of his mind.
"I don't keep a record when this John appears but it seems to me that the visits coincide with the full moon. I noticed because getting up the rent every month is a bitch and it seems to me this John shows up just when I need the money."
Coddie stopped talking and lay silently in the bed.
"Is that all?"
"That's all, now do I get some action?"
Burt was on his feet and barking, "Sergeant!" Instantly the door to the hall opened and the officer who was very much on duty now came in. "Yes, sir?"
Coddie wondered what the good-looking cop was pulling, he'd promised she'd get fucked.
"Sergeant, get all the male orderlies on this floor in here pronto."
"Yes, sir."
The sergeant disappeared and within ninety seconds every male attendant on the floor was in Coddie's room. Burt made them line up in a row. Coddie had sat up in bed and stared at the display of mostly young good-looking men in white tunics.
"Okay, Coddie, as a reward for your cooperation, pick the one you want."
Coddie was savvy enough to realize she'd been outsmarted, but a dick was a dick. She looked over the display and selected a well-proportioned black orderly with a sexy jaw. The fact that he was prematurely bald only accentuated his attractiveness; she was a big fan of Kojak on television.
"Him," she said pointing.
The orderly caught his breath, what was he being accused of?
"The rest of you, beat it," ordered Burt. The balding young man became nervous. Burt closed the door after the others had left.
"She's hot and I promised her a good lay. A good lay. I'll square it with your supervisor, you stay in here and fuck her."
The orderly was shocked but Burt whispered in the sergeant's ear and left the room, the sergeant locking the door once out in the hall.
The shocked orderly didn't know what to do. He'd only had this job a month and was still bewildered by the goings on of the place. Only last week one of the nurses had cornered him in the linen room. He was an immigrant from the Caribbean and conscientiously tried to live up to the rules, but there was so much sex going on he was becoming confused by the United States.
Coddie threw back the blanket and invited him to her bed.
"I hope you're hung, fella, I'm used to some pretty talented men. Well, don't just stand there like a jerk, get your ass into bed, let's get it on."
He started to move but stopped, uncertain as to what he was supposed to do, get into bed with his uniform on or take it off, first. His hands moved first down, then up and wandered around not knowing where to go. Coddie, a very accomplished hostess when inviting a man into bed, tugged at her hospital gown and had it off her bruised and scratched flesh in a flash.
The youthful balding orderly began peeling off his clothing.
Coddie licked her lips, about the only part of her face he could see. He studied her breasts-nice big nipples, he liked that. She had full tits, he salivated at the sight of them.
The tall, well-built man pulled his socks off standing up. He undid his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. As he stretched his body, Coddie was impressed with his well-proportioned physique. His undershorts were the brief kind and he slowly pulled them off his buttocks and, bringing his fingers to his abdomen, he lowered them over his cock and balls. Quickly he stepped out of them. There he was, naked before her.
His penis was a plump lengthy exaggeration of a cock. He was letting her admire it. He reached under it and flounced it with a free finger. It bounced. His elastic flesh began to expand. His instrument grew longer. It was standing out straight now as he gazed at her on the bed.
Jesus, can I pick 'em or can't I? Coddie thought to herself.
She thought it best to get with it and not think about the mysterious police questions and the whole adventure she was on. Her orderly moved to the bed slowly and knelt over her, gently pushing back the sheet and exposing her shapely legs.
When he had exposed all of her body he gazed down at his good fortune. She was one of the loveliest girls he had ever seen. Her big breasts tended to arch towards their points. Her torso was solid and slender, her waist was tiny and her sensuous hips were wide and curvaceous. Her legs were nicely trim, her feet tapered delicately to toes that were even and attractive. Few people have beautiful feet, but Coddie's were as beautiful as a painting by Titian..
He grabbed his tool in his hand and advanced to the bed. She tried to smile but the menacing way he held his cock frightened her. Instead of mounting her, he got to the side of the bed and turned his back on her. He sat down on the floor and rested his back against the bed.
"Dangle your feet on either side of my head."
She swung around and did what he requested. She placed a foot on either side of his face. He turned his head from side to side and kissed them. He then placed each hand on an ankle and pulled her delicate feet together in ront of his face. Uuhhing and aahhing, he kissed them. He secured his hold on the young girl's legs and dragged her body further off the bed so her knees were against his ears and her feet hung down and rested on his stomach. Coddie flexed her toes and played in the hair on his abdomen.
His voice expressed satisfaction. She continued the movements with her toes. He ran his hands over her knees and calves. Gently, like a pigeon primping, he slid his head back and forth, rubbing his cheek against her smooth skin.
Slowly, so as not to surprise her, he got on his knees and turned around. His face was right before her cunt and he kissed her legs as he brought his mouth closer to her mound of Venus. His male organ was as stiff as it could get while he gazed into her blond pubic hair.
His tongue darted out from its hiding place between his lips. Like an anxious insect's, it explored the hairs on her pudenda. It slipped below to the soft pink flesh between her legs. He inhaled and smelled the body odors of the beautiful young girl. His hands curled into weak fists and he polished his fingernails on her ass. Coddie could not help letting out a deep moan. Encouraged, he moved his sensual lips to her labias which hung like two uncooked pie crusts before him.
Wetting his upper lip as it advanced, his tongue came forth to serve her body. It approached her as a pilgrim, after a long journey, approaches a basilica-totally and with reverence. It rubbed the portal it was about to enter. It wandered back and forth in the entrance way. With caution and anticipation it advanced to the vestibule of her shrine of pleasure. It rubbed the walls. It slid along the floor. It inspected the ceiling. It wandered from place to place. It circled her whole interior. It withdrew to the entranceway. It ran straight back to the full extent it could go.
As if climbing a spiral staircase it wandered upward, climbing higher and higher to the dome of the cathedral and even further to the steeple of this church his tongue was worshipping in. At the top of the climb was the bell. He rang it with his tongue and the clarion sound came out of her mouth in the form of a gasp and an extended moan of pleasure.
He closed his lips around her clitoris; he had managed to get that far into her. Her body tossed and turned in delight. She was possessed by this man and glad of it. Her fingers twisted in the little of his hair she could capture. Her whole body strained so he could pleasure her more. Her very breathing coordinated with his.
"Ahhhh, lover!"
The black orderly's eager tongue worked back and forth on her clit. Ecstasy was the only word to describe his feeling. His fingers traced little trails on the mountains of her breasts and the valley between, then broke a new path to her ass. He circled and crossed and recrossed her soft flesh with his fingertips.
All the time his tongue kept flicking at her love bud. His strained tongue was bright red and the blue vein under it stood out as he strained to get as far into her cunt as he could. Each time he managed to move her hard clit with his tongue Coddie would shudder and exhale with joy.
Her fingers tied knots in his sparse hair and occasionally would depart from his head to grab a handful of the bedsheet and pull on it, visualizing the invisible pleasure their bodies were providing each other.
The naked orderly eventually got off the floor to crawl onto the bed and form a tent over her prone body. Coddie looked up at him with large wonder-filled eyes. She never realized a man could be so subtle in his love-making. It was a trip!
He knelt on the bed and bent his head, not to her tits or cunt, or even her lips; he started kissing her toes. He sucked each one into his mouth and then began kissing her arch. Coddie had never been shrimped before.
His kissed moved up her legs, around her ass and cunt, up her torso and carefully around her breasts. He then made little suctions on her neck. He couldn't plant his mouth on her chin and cheeks, her eyes, nose, or ears, so he loved her hair very tenderly.
Once astride her, his large cock standing out so she could plainly see its blue veins, he lifted her delicate knees into the air. When her legs were thus propped, he explored her cunt with his fingers. Inching forward on his knees, he guided his sturdy sex organ to her soft folds. Her flanges were quickly parted by the straining head of his penis. Easily and softly, he worked its head back and forth, spreading the juices it found there back and forth and around. As Coddie sighed with passion, his swollen cock began to slide deeper. She was breathing fast. Excitement was beginning to appear in the form of flushed cheeks, shorter breaths and uncontrollable little moans.
He smiled as he moved his first soft stroke into her. She could feel the hairs of his crotch press against those in hers. His cock was well into her now. She wanted more. She wanted him to move fast and slow, both at once, if he could. She wanted to tell him to fuck her. She wanted to scream it, yet she was afraid to open her mouth.
Instead she dug her fingernails into his arms. The experienced fucker knew what her fingernails meant and he put his back into his forward strokes and kept up the deep penetration. Coddie could feel his prick finding new areas to explore within her. She was grateful and kissed the air while he watched so the kiss would float up to his mouth which was curling into a sweet smile. His cock slid just a little farther into her.
The young handsome stud began to withdraw his large cock. She allowed him to do so, hoping it would only be a prelude to an even deeper thrust. Her hands slid on his arms. His face came toward hers. His mouth was on her and suddenly his cock began to return to the inner folds of her warm body.
Coddie felt wonderful. He was great! He clasped her ass in his big hands and clutched it to his pelvis as he shot forward again and again, pounding, thrusting, shoving, stuffing, pushing his cock into her quivering cunt.
His smile left his face as passion took over. Energy, pent up for many weeks, escaped with a grating sound from between his clenched teeth. His hands tightened, his shoulders went higher, his ass tucked itself in more tightly and his hips shot forward. His hands were on her thighs and he was pinning them to the bed on either side of her body.
Almost slowly he pulled his hips backward as Coddie opened her eyes in wonder. Fast! He shot forward. Again he pulled far back and rammed with speed into her. All the way.
Depth, depth was what he sought. His weight was supported by his hands as he drew back those powerful hips and threw them home. His expanding cock occupied her insides, owned them, possessed them. Once more he pulled his fat dick out so its tip was visible and then-wham!
She breathed with him. He pulled out, shot home. Out. Home. "Do it," she heard herself saying. "Do it! Do it! DO IT!" He saw lights. Stars.
Flashes. He came. Gush! Gush! Spew!
"Ohhhhhh."
It escaped his mouth as he fell forward on his hands, the victim of his own passion. His cock was still throbbing as he lay on top of her. Climax. That was the perfect word for it.
Coddie involuntarily clenched and unclenched her cunt. The moisture swelled up in her eyes and roiled out in a little grateful tear. They napped.
The stud orderly was dressed and Coddie was blowing him a kiss good-bye when she began to think about the consequences of her description to Burt. The orderly was down the hall when she called out, "Officer!"
Instantly the policeman on duty outside her door came into the room. He was surprised to see her naked except for the bandages around her face; she hadn't bothered to put her robe back on, she was hoping another male orderly would come in once the word got around that the Caribbean fellow had gotten a piece of ass. She hoped he would be cad enough to kiss and tell but she was afraid he was a gentleman and that would put the burden of getting another dick on her.
"What do you want, lady?"
"I have some more information I think might be helpful in locating that person."
"Spill it!"
The cop took out his notebook and pised his ballpoint.
"Oh, no, you don't. I'm only talking to that cute one with the blond hair and the funny uniform. He's the only cop I'll talk to."
"Look, sister, we're all trying to crack this case. What have you got?"
"I've been a hooker too long not to know you can't trust a cop. I'm only speaking to that blond one."
Apprehensive about brow-beating her while she was in a hospital bed, he muttered an epithet and closed his book, went to the nurses' station desk and called the precinct. MacDonald's private line was answered instantly by the chief himself.
"...and she won't say a word except to that Jersey guy, Showalter."
MacDonald muttered, too, but sent for Burt.
Once back at the hospital, Burt was worried. The whole force had been combing the city for three hours and no sign of the person Coddie had described had turned up. They'd questioned thousands of middle-aged men.
"First of all, Officer," Coddie began once he was alone with her, "thanks for the little entertainment you provided. He wasn't bad, for a spade dude. I might move my operations uptown a little to see if he's representative or not. I asked you back for a little more bargaining."
She paused to see how her approach was being received. It was not going over too well. Burt was exhausted from an extremely long and busy day, not to mention the tension and ignoring entirely the fact that he'd lost a night's sleep.
"Goddamn it, bitch, we're busting our balls to crack this case and you play coy. If you've withheld any information, I'll see to it that they throw the book at you. If you've got any more dope, spill it now or, by God, you'll regret it. You understand that, whore?"
Coddie was genuinely frightened.
"Don't get mad, Officer, I was only trying to do a little negotiating."
"You've gotten all the leeway you're going to get from us. What is it you want to mouth?"
Coddie had definite plans about what she wanted to mouth, it was parts of his body. Did she dare press her luck and demand another romp in the hay before she told what she had to tell?
Coddie was a gutsy girl; she had to be in her business. What the hell, she said, he's only a man. I'm in the hospital for a while anyway, it'll be weeks before I can work the streets again, might as well let the state support me while I'm waiting out the time. If they book me, so what? I'm long overdue for a stretch in the pokie anyway, it's the odds.
"Couldn't I have just a little more cock, please?" Burt was fatigued and about at the end of his endurance.
"Bitch! You're asking for trouble. I've had about enough of your stalling. You want dick? I'll give you dick. Injured or not, get out of that bed."
Burt's voice was an order. He didn't wait for her to respond, he grabbed her wrist with the clear plastic identification tag on it and pulled her bodily out of the bed. Once on the floor he continued to hold fast to her wrist. He turned her arm till the big-chested woman was cringing and dropping to the floor, her long hair going every which way over the bandages around her bruised face.
"Hungry for cock, huh? Well, take some of mine."
She was on her knees facing him. He raised the toe of one foot and began working it between her labias. Coddie was beginning to be afraid she'd pushed her luck too far.
He released her wrist once she was kneeling in front of him and quickly was pulling his shirt out of his trousers. Quickly his uniform pants slid down his legs and landed on the floor. Burt pulled off his underwear.
Coddie saw a sizable penis. It had been netted in by his underwear but now was free and fell from its shelf of balls to hang down like the stud phallus it was. Behind her bandages, Coddie smiled. She reached over and took his soft meat in her hand and brought its club-like head to her lips.
Burt stood before her, well balanced on his feet placed wide apart. His heavy shoulders were slightly pushed forward, merging his huge pectoral muscles together. He gazed down on the bandaged prostitute bobbing her head and straining her neck to get his cock into her mouth.
"Selfish bitch! People may be dying out in the streets because you're so fuckin' cock-happy you don't give a damn about anyone or anything except your stinkin' hungry pussy. Stuff a bedpan up there for all I care, I hope you choke to death on my cock." He shoved his organ into her throat roughly.
Coddie looked up to his eyes to try and understand what made him so angry. His teeth were grinding together and fire burned in his eyes. As she stared up at him he put his big hand behind her head and pulled her bandaged face to his crotch.
Coddie's tongue came from between her lips and she began licking his belly, running the tip of her tongue into his navel. The saliva left a trail on his abdomen. She let her tongue drift down to his thigh. It flicked over his slightly hairy legs.
The greedy prostitute knelt, holding on to his muscular legs. He slipped his hand down her bandages and held her chin up with his bent index finger. Her eyes rolled upward to his face again. He put one finger in her mouth and forced her to open it wider.
Coddie surprised Burt. Instead of going right down on his jutting prick she opened her ruby lips against his balls and let one half of his sack slip between her lips. Burt groaned in surprise. Feeling cocky as hell, Coddie sucked them gently and expertly. Again her eyes rolled up, this time to marvel at the miracle of the underside of his hard penis.
Stretching her neck, Coddie opened her mouth and took his powerfully-veined cock into her mouth. At first she almost gagged on it. He must have had a good eight inches of fat prick, she surmised. It was not as big as the handsome genitals of the black orderly, but it was still a challenge.
The full fat head of his cock was past her lips and she could feel her cheeks puffing out as its hard shaft edged over her tongue. It hit the back of her throat and she tried to draw breath in. Coddie was only partially successful. Her lips crawled forward along the smooth surface of his warm prick. More of it went past her tonsils and she felt the dryness of it in her throat.
Her hands clutched his knees as she twisted her head slightly to facilitate his cock's journey down her throat. His pubic hairs were touching her lips. She had done it. The big cop's hands were fingering her bandaged head.
She concentrated with all the care and precision of an Olympic athlete, imagining herself to be working to win a gold medal in cocksucking.
After a few tentative strokes she was able to relax her throat muscles. This enabled Burt to arch his hips and drive his blood-filled prick across her tongue faster and sink it in her quaking throat. He held it there. Coddie tried to breathe through her nose; her mouth was too full of cock to open any wider.
Burt patiently waited till she found a breathing pattern which made it possible for her to keep his swollen organ in her throat.
Their breathing was brought into synchronization by the patient stroking of her excited throat by the fat head of his cock. Her heart beat at the same tempo his did. She was growing hotter, the heat under her bandage was making her uncomfortable.
"Cum-eating bitch, I'm warning you, if you're pulling a fast one, believe me this is the last cock you'll get near for five to ten years. I'll personally see to it you don't get dicked till you're too old to enjoy it. You'd better make this good, honey, it may be your very last sexual experience."
His inflammatory words only made Coddie that much hotter. She felt his legs stiffen under her hands. From deep in his barrel chest a low moan of passion began and increased in volume. She raced her mouth up and down his cock. Her face was bright red, if he could have seen it. Her head was hotter than ever. She could feel beads of perspiration forming on her brow. They itched. Her hair was growing damp from the moisture building up under the gauze and tape.
Her over-crowded throat moved sensuously on its own lubricant along the swollen shaft of his cock.
Burt's hand tightened on her fast-bobbing head. He let out an animal grunt. Coddie felt his whole body vibrate as he tensed every muscle. His cum raced through his hard cock and rushed into her mouth. Gob after gob of it flooded her. Sucking ferociously, she tried to swallow his hot cream. She worked her throat muscles so his cock was sheathed tightly while it exploded with cum. She contracted her throat to pull his hot blasts of sticky fluid into her belly.
When his convulsions of pleasure subsided and his legs stopped quivering, she released his quickly softening cock. It retreated over her lovely lips and hung free, glistening in the light.
Burt sighed deeply and held out his hand to help her up. When she was on her feet he put one big hand at her throat and made her stand on her tiptoes as he squeezed his hand around her throat.
"Now you cum-stuffed harlot, give!"
"Let ... let me breathe."
Burt released some of the pressure on her Adam's apple. She sank down so she was able to stand flat on her feet. She took a much-needed deep breath and looked into his stern business-like face.
"There was one detail I neglected to mention about the John you asked me about."
There was a rap at the door.
Frustrated and angry, Burt forgot he was standing with his pants down around his ankles, his shorts hobbling his ankles and his shirt open to the neck exposing his flat stomach and the tiny indenture of his navel. His pendulous cock and balls swung slightly as he jerked his head and yelled over his shoulder, "Come in!"
MacDonald opened the door and stared incredulously at Burt's bare ass.
"Showalter! What the fuck's going on here???"
Burt was embarrassed but only slightly. He swung around to stare into the fuming face of his boss.
"Sorry, Chief," Burt said as he bent to retrieve his pants. Stuffing his equipment into them again he explained what Coddie had summoned him for.
"I figured it would be faster to give her some dick than to get the info out of her by booking her on a seven nineteen."
MacDonald, close to retirement age but no fool, realized Coddie was playing her importance for all she could get out of it. He ignored Burt, brushing past him to deliver a tongue lashing directly to Coddie. He spat out only three declarative sentences but when he was finished she was shaking like a leaf.
He and Burt stood by the side of her bed as she sheepisly pulled the covers up around her chin and slid down under them. She looked for all the world like the World War II graffiti always portrayed with the legend, "Kilroy was here."
"Now what's your additional information?"
"I only wanted to tell you," she said in an almost inaudible voice, "that in the description of the John who wanted to know about those devices you are so interested in, I left out one small detail.
"What detail?"
"My John is a woman."
CHAPTER NINE
"I didn't want to tell you before," Coddie went on, "because I was afraid the girls on the street would learn about me having a woman client and they'd turn on me. You will keep my secret, won't you?"
He left the hospital with MacDonald, both men thinking as hard and as fast as they could about the new development in the case.
When they returned to the station house the sergeant met them with a grim face.
"Chief, another bomb has gone off."
MacDonald was ready for anything. He set his jaw and asked the one-word question.
"Where?"
"Ninth Avenue and Fifty-fifth Street, in a supermarket. There are several injuries."
Burt noticed the afternoon papers sitting on the sergeant's desk. The headlines told the whole story: "Bomber Still At Large; City In Panic."
Another cop came up with the message that the governor had mobilized the national guard. MacDonald shot a look at Burt, Burt followed him into his office and closed the door behind them.
They briefly outlined their change of approach. Policeman scurried in and out of the office. Radio transmission relayed the new description. Reporters were banned from any information at all. This set up a howl of protest from the Fourth Estate but some city editors realized the safety of the metropolis depended upon cooperation with the police so they calmed down their irate reporters.
The phone company put personnel on overtime to service information lines. Parents made plans to keep their children home from school the next day. Old maids thought better about going out of their apartments. Television sets all over the five boroughs were on to catch the latest development in the crisis.
As MacDonald issued his orders and smoked one cigarette after another, Burt kept feeling ill at ease about something. He couldn't place his finger on it but something was gnawing at the back of his brain.
He took a pornographic magazine labeled Exhibit 23-N, Case NY 136-77, and went to the John.
Sitting on the pot, his holster hanging down along the side of the bowl, Burt leafed through the picture book only half seeing the exceptional genitals and details of hair and flesh in full color.
Something was still bothering his head.
He turned one more page. He stared at a picture of a woman lying on her back, her feet thrust well behind her head and holding her pussy open with four fingers, making it look like the Grand Canyon. He thought if she let her pussy flesh slide free her cunt would look like a half moon.
The something eating away at the back of his brain suddenly became clear. He jumped up and started to run, but because his pants were around his ankles he fell face first on the John floor tiles. Other policemen taking a leak or washing their hands were surprised as the out-of-town cop lay there yelling "Eureka! Eureka!"
He wasn't even embarrassed but merely scrambled to his feet and dressed as he moved down the hall. Behind him in the John one cop looked at another and said, "Must be some hot book he was getting off on in there."
He burst into MacDonald's office with his fly still open.
"I got it, Chief, I got it!"
MacDonald saw Burt's open fly.
"Jesus H. God, don't you Jersey cops ever keep your pants on?"
"Chief," Burt bubbled as he zipped his fly, "that hooker in the hospital said something and I just put two and two together. Look."
Burt quickly stepped to the blackboard on the far wall of MacDonald's office and pointed to the list of explosions, a list which had almost doubled in two days.
"Look at the pattern, Chief."
MacDonald had been studying that listing for days trying to decipher a pattern.
"The first explosion was on the twenty-sixth of the month. The second occurred a month later on the twenty-seventh. There was a third the following day. There are no more explosions till the twenty-seventh of the next month, there were two that day and two the next. There were three after that.
"Now look. There's no explosions till three days ago. They all come together in a group, once a month. Chief, she said the John was a woman and the explosions come about every twenty-eight days."
MacDonald's eyes lit up. His wife had behaved very oddly once a month during her change.
"My God, Showalter, I think you've hit on something."
The two men's minds worked like computers. MacDonald pushed his desk buzzer frantically. Secretaries and junior officers crowded his office in a matter of seconds. He called for a listing of all the gynecologists in the greater metropolitan area. He sent for the records of all the mental hospitals within a hundred miles.
"If she's that sick," he explained, "it can't have happened over night, she may have left a trail of mental illness that we can pick up on."
With the smell of victory in their nostrils, the exhausted policemen found new energy and set to their tasks with renewed vigor. Microfilm rolled on scanning screens in dozens of hospitals. A quick call to the governor produced the records of every licensed psychiatrist and psychologist in the state. Neighboring states cooperated by furnishing their files.
The press cooperated by not printing what they were beginning to learn.
Fortunately, during the next twelve hours, no new bombings were reported. The city sat tense and waiting. Public appeals for calm and cooperation produced the desired results. MacDonald's team of specialists were augmented by strategists and police psychologists.
The men on the force suddenly realized there were a lot of expert women who suddenly appeared from offices all over town. They were policewomen, trained social workers and psychologists who went over volume after volume of names, calling doctors to see if one of their patients could be the woman they sought.
When twenty-four hours had passed without a single explosion, they thought Burt had been right. By this time the department had compiled a list of four hundred and seventy some names of women they wanted to interview.
Another twenty-four hours and they had eliminated nearly three hundred of the suspects. Many of the women on the list had died; eleven had been permanently hospitalized; dozens had recovered from the conditions which had disturbed them, and about half of those talked freely and directly to police. For some of them it took coaxing and the firm hand of the law to produce results but they all came up with alibis and witnesses to prove they were not near the bomb sites during the times the devices were planted.
The force had reduced its list to thirty-two women by the end of the week.
Coddie had been given every medical help available to speed her recovery and by the ninth day she was back in business. The police monitored her phone twenty-four hours a day and the detail that staked out her apartment was the hottest assignment in the department. All the cops got a kick out of watching her turn trick after trick and most of them made up their minds to get a piece when this was all over.
The woman who bought Coddie's favors didn't call.
One day Burt was huddled with MacDonald, looking at the calendar. "Chief, I think we can start expecting trouble tomorrow or the next day. It's been twenty-six days since the last bomb."
MacDonald knew it was true. Their list had dwindled to seventeen by this time; most of the names they had eliminated belonged to women who had moved out of town, the great majority to retirement in Florida.
One cop on Staten Island had made a big stink because his mother, in her eighties, had been taken down to the station house and questioned for nearly two hours. It took the promise of a better beat to shut him up.
The pressure was building up. Burt was staying with a city cop in his apartment just three blocks from the station house where MacDonald had established his headquarters. His host, a big bull of a man named Finnigan, was a jolly soul who delighted in relaxing with a beer in front of his television set, yelling instructions to the hometown teams on the sports shows he watched.
Finnigan was not unaware of the nervousness creeping over Burt as the phases of the moon changed and the twenty-eight day cycle came round again.
"Look, Burt, ole buddy, you're getting all tensed up. How about you and I going out on the town together?"
"Nah, Finn, something's going to happen soon. I can feel it."
"You'll be a helluva lot more ready for it, buddy, if you relax. Ha! I know just the change of pace for you. Get your coat, come on."
His good-natured friend all but dragged Burt out of the apartment. Finnigan hailed a taxi and they sped up Riverside Drive.
The sun was just setting over New Jersey and the Hudson looked almost clean in the twilight. Burt was surprised when Finn directed the cab driver to turn into the yacht harbor and let them out on the banks of the river.
Finnigan led him to a sizable yacht where a cocktail party seemed in progress. Finnigan introduced him to a rich old man who obviously liked to surround himself with pretty young girls. They one and all had exaggerated pelvises and narrow, narrow waists. Most of them were chesty. All of them were displaying their charms as much as possible. Their smoldering eyes sent unmistakable messages. Burt's cock got the message.
Finnigan spoke quietly to the yachtsman. Drinks were served to the newcomers. Introductions were kept to a first-name exchange and a stereo played sensuous music.
One of the girls with big eyes, big tits, and a big appetite let her glance linger on Burt. He was so stupefied by the beguiling creature he didn't realize it, but he rubbed his cock through his pants unconsciously, like a high school kid on a street corner. The sharp-eyed host didn't miss it and discreetly suggested to his other guests that perhaps they'd like to visit below deck.
Some of them didn't want to, they were enjoying the soft breezes and the fresh air. He herded them all below anyway. As he entered the hatch he glanced back at Burt and the full-bodied brunette who were alone on the deck.
"Not too subtle, was he?"
"Not very, but since we're alone, we might as well take advantage of his kindness, Burt. By the way, I'm Roxy, short for Roxanne."
"Okay, Roxy, it looks like you and I are going to get it on."
Roxy sat on the thick padding of a lounge, brought her shapely legs up and stretched out on the comfortable chaise. Burt stood over her a brief moment gazing down at her lush body. Roxy was not apprehensive but she was slightly perplexed by the fact that he had hardly addressed a complete sentence to her. All they had exchanged was a few words of greeting and the usual cliches people who meet at cocktail parties bore each other with.
As he glided to her side on the chaise his strong hand went in back of her neck. Roxy felt her heart double its beating rate as his skin touched hers. She wanted him to make love. She'd never been fucked by a cop before. In an act of self-preservation she rolled away from his approaching embrace and got to her feet. Burt was surprised.
Roxy walked back and forth across the deck. He patiently let her pace. When she stood still he got off the lounge and came up in back of her and held her upper arms in his hands. He gently kissed her on the back of the neck. She could feel the warmth of his muscular body. Her body went limp.
Cooly he led her back to the chaise. As they lay flat he took her into his arms and embraced her. While kissing her he pushed his right leg between her thighs, his knees against her slit, doing his best to do it gently.
Burt kissed her for some minutes. It was obvious that their tongues were soon moving in and out of each other's mouths and his cock was swelling rapidly.
Burt's hands moved up her legs and around her shapely hips. She twinged. He had 'the touch of an archangel. His lips were clamped to hers most of the time but he had lifted his mouth from hers to look into her eyes. Her eyes returned his lust.
"I want that big cock inside me."
His hands were rubbing against her thighs. She felt a thrill of pleasure as his fingers came into contact with the flesh close to her buttocks.
A moment later he was pulling her down on the chaise and running his talented hands over her legs. He moved them over her rounded knees and then up her fleshy thighs. He emitted a kind of pleasure grunt as his hands played with the soft flesh between them before he reached up to start feeling her pussy.
He reached his hand up under her bathing suit and began to guide it around her pudenda. He brought her into a sitting position and undid its fasteners in the back. When her round lush breasts came into view he could not disguise the low moan of pleasure he let escape his lips. Those lips eagerly closed on one pointy nipple and Roxy felt electricity flow through her body.
Instantly her fingers were in his hair and she fondled his well-shaped head. His lips and tongue were busy on her breast but his hands were not idle. They maneuvered her bathing suit down her trim legs and off her feet. She lay stretched out before him like Goya's painting "The Naked Maja."
Inasmuch as she was naked and he would have to become so, he gallantly got to his feet and began peeling off his clothing. With widening eyes Roxy watched him strip on the deck of the yacht. His body was so beautiful she had to let out her own moan of appreciation. When his underwear was off she saw a semi-hard cock of generous proportions swinging menacingly from his abdomen. Her hand automatically reached out to clutch it.
His penis was warm and felt weighty. Roxy told herself she'd get every bit of it into her mouth. He was smiling at her but it was more of a gloat than a smile.
Burt bent one knee and dropped down onto the padding and stretched out bare-ass naked next to the girl.
He lightly stroked her mound of Venus before parting her cunt's lips with his fingers. Roxy breathed heavily to encourage him. His finger was in her vagina and was working in and out a few times before continuing his rolling movements.
Roxy lay back and waited to offer her body to his hard prick.
There was passion in Burt's eyes as he looked at her with the head of his cock standing some nine inches from his body. His heavy balls hung below. He lay on his right side and rested on his elbow as he looked at her. His free hand was roving over her body. He was too eager to be able to concentrate on any one part of her.
After feasting his eyes he fixed his attention on her right breast and, twisting her nipple between his finger and thumb, drew moans of pleasure from her. He leaned over and took her large erect nipple into his mouth and sucked at it avidly as his hand strayed to her pussy.
He sucked on her nipples while his hand delicately fingered her soft, silky pussy hairs. His long finger reached down, felt for her slit, parted her fleshy lips and trailed along her wet fissure. When he'had moistened his finger, he moved it up until he found her clit and then began to titillate it vigorously.
"Oh, you long-fingered fuck. Take me!"
Roxy was eagerly responding to his finger by allowing her legs to part, even arching her body a little to press herself against his finger. Gradually he increased the speed and pressure of his touch on her sensitive bud. It was not long before she was writhing to his caresses, moaning loudly and muttering words that he did not quite hear but which were requests. Then he heard them.
"Fuck me, oh, fuck me hard. Jesus, you're exciting."
"You'll get it."
His eyes were fixed on hers as he spoke and continued to finger her clit. He had her gasping for breath.
Burt clambered between Roxy's thighs. He felt them for a moment or two, then said in a hoarse voice, "Turn it over!"
Excited, she obeyed. He instantly was feeling for her cunt between the crack of her ass. Bending over her, he moved forward on his knees, pushing his straining prick between her thighs and guiding it into her fleshy vulva. He bent right over her smooth lovely buttocks and thrust forward. He was lowering his body onto hers and forced his prick into her waiting quivering flesh.
A moan of pleasure escaped her hot lips.
Burt lay on top of Roxy and reached under to take her breasts in his hands. His prick went deep inside her clinging cunt possessing her completely. She gave herself to him, feeling his large hands reach under to cup her breasts as he thrust into her cunt and drove his prick deep inside her. She moaned and gave voice to her pleasure as he repeatedly invaded her. She wanted to remain passive to him but found herself offering her body to his possessive lust and wanting him to use her at his pleasure.
"Take me. Take me."
"Move your ass!"
"Unnnn!"
"That's it! Fuck me."
Burt's hairy chest pressed against her back. Her tits wobbled lusciously. Her hair fell forward over the crown of her head. The lounge was creaking noisily as the mounted couple thrashed and pumped. He banged her forward inch by inch until her sweating and gasping body was straining to attack him back. He shoved his cock and she twisted her pelvis. She took great deep breaths and flexed her stomach to give even more sensation to his strokes of passion.
As Burt gripped her shoulders in strong hands and rode her mercilessly, she mewled and grunted and tossed. He pounded her with his hips. She was forced to straighten out her arms and brace herself against the deck. That only made it possible for him to drive his cock that much deeper into her.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"
He pumped the breath out of her. Throaty noises spewed from him in a way he was helpless to control.
Burt's sweat smelled strong as he perspired freely riding the beautiful young girl. The squelchy noises their sweaty bodies were making only accented his passion.
Roxy was overwhelmed with ecstasy as she realized what was happening to her. "I'm coming!"
As his scrotum swacked against the underside of her stretched pussy, he came with a roar.
"Ahgggghhh! Jesus! Ohhhhhhh! Um! Ahhh."
His yells grew quieter as his body slowed like a locomotive gradually coming to a standstill. The love juices began seeping out of Roxy's exercised pussy. They dripped onto the deck lounge. The couple collapsed and rolled into each other's arms. They kissed tenderly. Burt fondled her boobs and rubbed her hip. He smiled at her a lot and kissed her gently on the cheeks, forehead, neck and shoulders. She smiled back and twisted the hairs on his chest around her fingertips.
Burt was a little startled to be jolted from the arms of Aphrodite by the earthy sound of Finnigan pounding up the ladder to the hatch and bursting onto the deck with the exclamation.
"Burt, Burt! MacDonald wants you-fast!"
Burt lost no time in getting dressed and rushing down the companion way. Once on the dock he looked back apologetically at Roxy who leaned naked over the railing and waved good-bye to the best fuck she'd had in a long time. She wondered if she'd ever meet him again.
Burt didn't have time to think of how good it had been. Once inside MacDonald's office he learned that the tap on Coddie's phone had produced a conversation which Coddie said was the woman. Those listening in thought she sounded very throaty, sensuous almost.
By telling the woman that she had to find her apointment book, Coddie was able to keep her on the line long enough for the police to trace the call. MacDonald and Burt paced the office waiting for the technicians to report on the address of the phone they were tracing. They used the time to outfit themselves with everything from tear gas to chemical mace. They donned bullet-proof vests. Unmarked cars lined up outside the precinct house. Helicopters were alerted.
A fire department truck was requested in the event a ladder would be needed. Hundreds of policemen waited breathlessly to be assigned lookout posts once the address was established.
It turned out to be an old brownstone on the West Side, a building which had seen much, much better days. The graffiti in the halls, the broken glass, the run-down condition told Burt all he needed to know.
The apartment they were interested in was on the third floor. Stealthily, policemen with rifles began filtering into the neighboring buildings, working their way up ta the roof. Police matrons and rescue officers went quietly from apartment to apartment in the building telling people a gas leak had been reported and that they were being evacuated merely as a precaution.
Whole families moved quietly into the street and were held in back of hastily erected barricades. The police department's disposal truck for explosives rolled into the street. It looked like a covered wagon on the back of a pick-up, except instead of a canvas top it was covered with layer after layer of heavy-duty steel cable.
Thank God her apartment is in back, thought Burt, she can't see what's going on in the street.
Crowds began to gather. An ice cream vendor set up shop and did a land-office business. Neighbors missed their favorite television shows in favor of the drama in the street.
MacDonald, satisfied that every possible precaution had been taken and that his men were in position, saw his last man gain the fire escape outside the window they thought she was behind. He chose Burt to go with him and began to mount the steps of the now-empty tenement.
Inside the third floor rear apartment it was almost dark. Filth and litter covered the floor. The place had not been cleaned in at least fifteen years. The sink was black. Piles of yellowing newspapers were everywhere. Some of them had fallen over and had never been straightened up. Bits of rag and unidentifiable debris were everywhere.
On a smelly lumpy daybed, which sagged almost to the floor, a sad-eyed woman in her late fifties sat in a stained bathrobe with one finger in her unwashed cunt.
She was mumbling to herself.
On a kitchen table not far away sat one of the timing devices and several sticks of dynamite. A roll of masking tape, pliers, wire, a fuse, and a shoebox littered its surface, but the table was actually the cleanest place in the house.
MacDonald and Burt, revolvers drawn, approached the door. MacDonald twisted the knob. The door opened. Carefully the two policemen, sweat trickling down their sides, stepped into the darkened apartment.
Burt was the first to see her. She was carrying on a full conversation with herself. They were not noticed. Burt concluded that she didn't know they were there, her eyes seemed glazed over. As they tiptoed closer they could make out what the crazed woman was muttering.
"...leave me penniless. I should be rich. I showed those banks, I showed 'em, and I'll show the rest of 'em too. If Harvey had lived I wouldn't be poor. No sir, not me. Harvey, why didn't you buy that land when we could have? They built an airport on the site. We could have made the profit, not the banks. I got even though, I blew it up! Ha ha ha, I showed 'em.
"That supermarket, we could have bought that property too. Somebody else made the profit, but I fixed 'em, blew it off the face of the earth. Ha ha ha."
Burt's heart was pounding so loudly he was sure she must hear it. The old woman in the dirty bathrobe, her sagging breasts flat against her stomach, kept on muttering.
"Why'd they build a church there? That should have been my land. Had to get rid of it, blew it to Kingdom Come."
Burt was only four feet from her and was about to make a leap for her when she unexpectedly stretched out her hand and reached for one of the sticks of dynamite from the table. As her hand closed around it she pushed her legs apart. Burt froze. MacDonald didn't even dare to breathe.
The woman leaned back and began working the stick of dynamite into her flabby cunt. Burt felt so sorry for her he wanted to cry. She began stirring the dynamite around in her cunt, muttering softly.
"...we could have owned the lot where they're putting up that apartment building now. I'll get even, I'll blast their nice new buildings to rubble. Heh, heh. Oh, Harvey, why'd you leave me? It's been so long."
Burt took a tentative step forward. The poor demented woman saw nothing. Burt realized she was lost in her fantasies because the stick of dynamite moved faster and faster within her pussy. Softly he stepped forward, gently dropped to his knees and put his hand on the stick. He was as calm as he had ever been. She sensed his hand and stared at him, seeing him out of focus.
"What?? Who? Harvey, is that you?"
"Yes, it's Harvey. I've come back. We're going to go away together, you and I."
"Harvey, I didn't want to be unfaithful to you, but you've been away so long. I did something clever, though, I went with a woman. That wasn't being unfaithful, was it?"
Burt was holding her wrinkled hands in his gently and MacDonald lost no time in getting the cuffs around her wrists. She almost didn't notice. She quietly went on telling "Harvey" how much she'd missed him, did he know the cat died? Where was her red pocketbook, she couldn't find it anymore. Where had he been?
MacDonald and Burt eased her into the ambulance, the vehicle pulled quietly away and the bomb scare was over.
One neighbor watched all the cops leaving and said, "Humph. I bet it cost the taxpayers a pretty penny to muster all those cops-and what for, to cart one crazy old lady to the funny farm. Ain't that nuthin'?"
