In their book, The Swinging Set, William and Jerrye Breedlove write: "... approximately five million couples in the U. S. have at one time or another mutually agreed to exchange partners... Furthermore, one out of every ten married couples under age 35 will participate (or have participated) in spouse swapping. One out of every five couples, regardless of age, will question each other about this situation, and one out of ten couples will feel out their friends to see how they feel about it, hoping for sympathetic hearings. All these figures are increasing." Young attorney Casey Tomkins and his attractive wife, Judy, had no particular propensity for depravity. It just seemed that one day life was suddenly too dull -- and that was all the excuse their free-swinging friends needed to involve the couple in one of the most bizarre groups ewer formed...
CHAPTER ONE
It was definitely not the weather for a black-tie affair. It was only early April, yet the evening temperature was above seventy. The women, with their bared shoulders and half-hare bosoms, were far more comfortable than were the men. All a woman had to wear was a gown. Fresh air could circulate coolingly over her exposed breasts and beneath the hem of her floor-length gown. Men, on the other hand, wore stifling high-necked collars, stiffly starched shirts, ties, jackets, cummerbunds, trousers, and then, beneath all that, undershorts and undershirts.
Casey Tompkins smiled sympathetically at a fellow sufferer, mopped his brow with a soggy handkerchief, and took another long pull at his tall glass. The cool, sweet concoction of liquor and flavoring slipped down his throat, gave briefly the impression of coolness, then exploded warmly in the pit of his stomach.
Casey knew he was drinking too much, too He also knew he was bored. The music was good. The women were beautiful and friendly; and some of them were even available. The liquor was free and of high quality. Yet, he was bored, terribly bored.
Casey was bored because he didn't belong. These people were neither his social nor his economic equals. He would have much preferred to be at home with his bride of less than two years. The only reason he'd accepted the invitation to this upper-echelon social bash was because Judy wouldn't be at home, anyway.
Judy Tompkins was, Casey glanced at his watch, at that very moment on stage at the Durrenmatt Theater. It was almost time for the second-act curtain, and she was probably in the arms of her stage lover.
Judy Tompkins -- actress, wife of Casey Tompkins -- rising young lawyer, had a good supporting role in Broadway's latest hit. Casey, having seen the damned play so often he could quote all the actors' lines in his sleep, had balked at continued attendance at the theater. He'd also balked at the idea of sitting at home alone in the apartment The invitation to the ball had seemed a good idea at the time. It might serve two purposes. First, Casey would not have to sit home alone all evening. Second, he might make some valuable contacts. These people were all wealthy. They were directors of corporations, big Wall Street investors, publishers of magazines and newspapers. Such people continually required the services of good lawyers. Casey thought it might be possible to cut himself a piece of the action.
Casey dropped his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter, snared another drink from the tray of another waiter, and, bored with standing in one place so long, moved to another spot on the wall and leaned back to watch the proceedings.
The six-piece orchestra, having played the proper number of waltzes and fox trots, now began something with a little more tempo. Casey smiled as he watched these aloof and superior beings now wriggle and writhe about as they did the Watusi, the frug, the monkey, and all the other faddist dance crazes.
His interest perked up. Some of them weren't too bad. There was one blonde in the middle of the floor who was quite an eyeful. Her strapless gown fought valiantly to contain her massive breasts. Every wriggle of her shoulders or toss of her hips sent waves shimmering across her soft flesh. Each movement of her body threatened to toss her breasts free of their confinement.
The blonde's eyes were half closed as she moved her body to the suggestive rhythm. Her lips were parted slightly and the pink tip of her tongue peeked through. Tendrils of hair had escaped the curve of her coiffure, and her make-up was beginning to run under all that perspiration. The exposed and jiggling surfaces of her breasts glistened with sweat.
Casey knew he was becoming too interested in the blonde. It would serve no purpose for him to get himself all excited watching her and thinking about her. This wasn't that sort of party.
He got another fresh drink and wandered off in search of fresh air. He came to the open French doors which faced out onto the terrace and stepped outside. It was only slightly cooler out in the darkness, but it was much more quiet.
Casey stood at the edge of the flagstone terrace and looked out into the night. A hundred yards away Long Island Sound lapped softly at the shore. This immense estate also had a dock, and tied at that dock were a forty-foot inboard cabin cruiser and an eighteen-foot speedboat.
The Sound was calm on this soft spring night. The full moon and the stars were reflected in the water. Far out Casey could see the running lights of a slow-moving boat and further out, across the Sound, was the glow in the night sky which was the rights of the city of Hartford, Connecticut, clear across the body of water.
Casey took another sip from his drink and ran his forefinger under the edge of his collar. He walked down the four stone steps from the terrace and strolled casually through the garden.
It was a beautiful garden -- a tribute to both the art of the gardener and the money of the owner. A small fortune had gone into this garden. Everywhere there were nooks and crannies filled with statuary.
Casey paused before a pedestal which held an eighteen-inch figure of a girl. It was a marble piece. The girl, nude, was captured in full flight --hair tossing wildly, legs pumping with each lunging step, breasts swaying. The girl's face was twisted in horror and fear.
It was good piece of work. Casey set his glass down on the pedestal while he lit a cigarette. The full moon gave more than enough fight for him to be able to fully appreciate all the art.
The cigarette lit, Casey started his stroll once again. He walked quietly, his shoes silent on the thick manicured grass. He came to a stone bench beside a fountain and sat down.
He'd been sitting there only a moment or two when he heard the murmur of approaching voices. Casey didn't want anyone to see him sitting there alone. He would look foolish.
He rose from the bench and stepped behind a bush to let the approaching people, whoever they were, pass in the night.
The voices grew louder, and he was able to identify a man's and a woman's voice. The couple came into view, slowed, and sat down on the bench Casey had vacated only a moment before.
He didn't recognize either of them, but they were obviously guests. And neither of them was aware that he stood in the shadows less than five feet away.
The man put his arm about the woman's shoulders, and she turned her face toward him to be kissed. But she murmured disapproval when he reached to cup one of her half-bared breasts.
The young man, who was about twenty-four and had the look of belonging to the right clubs, ended the kiss with an explosive sigh of frustration. The woman, about thirty, small and solidly built, laughed softly.
"You're too impetuous, darling," she said, reaching a hand to stroke one of his cheeks.
"I can't help it," the young man replied. "You don't know hew badly I want you."
"I do," she said. "But not here. Are you mad?"
"You told me your husband doesn't give a damn what you do."
"He doesn't. But what if someone else were to find us?"
"No one will find us. They're all busy inside."
"My husband's leaving for two weeks of conferences out on the West Coast. We'll have lots of fun then."
"When is he leaving?"
"Oh, next week some time. You can wait until then, surely?"
"I tell you I can't wait. I'm going out of my mind wanting you. I can't think about anything else. I can't sleep at night. Every time I close my eyes I see us together that first time when it almost happened. I see you standing there without your clothes. I remember the way I felt when our eyes met and held for so long. And the way you opened your arms as I walked toward you.
"I remember everything about that time. The way your skin feels. The way your nipples harden and the way they taste. The heat of your lips and the soft sound of your moans."
The woman smiled, and her white teeth flashed in the night. When she spoke her voice had a low, throbbing quality. "I remember, too. You were as excited as a little puppy. I only barely touched you, and you exploded all over the place."
The young man turned his face away in embarrassment. "I couldn't help it. I was so excited."
"Oh, I didn't mind. You were very nice to me afterward. I remember that, too."
"Oh, God!" The young man thrust both hands into his lap and hunched forward. "You're driving me out of my mind."
Casey looked about for an avenue of escape, but he couldn't move without making noise and betraying his presence.
The woman pulled herself closer and crooned soothingly to the young man as she stroked his shoulder and cheek. "There, there now. Don't get upset. You... " Before she could finish the younger man whirled, took her in his arms, and kissed her. She struggled for a moment, then relaxed with a sigh. Her arms went around his neck and pulled him tight against her.
The young man, encouraged by her lack of objection, kissed harder and shoved one hand into the bodice of her gown. She hunched her shoulders to make it easier for him. After a moment or two the young man had the top of the gown down to her waist.
Her breasts were bare in the moonlight -- alabaster cones tipped with dark circles and hard buds. The young man's mouth slid down from her lips to her throat, then out onto the trembling surfaces of her breast. He captured one lively breast in his hand, squeezing so his fingers sank deep into the soft firmness, and covered the end of the other breast with his greedy mouth.
The woman let out a soft moan of desire and let her head hang back on her neck. Casey could see her face quite clearly in the moonlight. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks and lips trembled with desire. Her mouth was open, and she gasped softly for every breath.
She cupped the back of the young man's head with one of her hands, and pulled him tighter to her breast. Her other hand went to his lap and moved strongly there.
"Baby, baby, baby," she crooned in the night. "You know how sensitive I am there. Your mouth, it's so wonderful. I love your mouth. Harder! Bite me. Let me feel your teeth."
The young man, encouraged by her lack of ob-breasts, and at the same time he slid his hand up beneath the hem of her dress. As he reached high under the dress the hem rose up along the length of her rounded legs.
In a moment bare flesh above the tops of her stockings appeared. From his hiding place Casey could see she was wearing black lace panties which were extremely sheer, and a black lace garter belt. Her white flesh seemed to have an incandescence which glowed through the sheer material of her nether garments.
The young man stroked her legs until they fell limply apart and quivered beneath his touch. Then his hand rose high between them and cupped to the sharp curve of her torso. He rolled his hand against her there, and his moaning took on a more frantic tone. The woman was not completely passive. While she enjoyed the young man's kisses and caresses her own hand was busy at the front of his trousers. The sound of his zipper was loud in the darkness. Her hand disappeared into the front of his trousers for a moment, then reappeared.
The young man was as excited as he could possibly be, and that stroking hand did nothing to quiet him. Even as he kissed and stroked her more feverishly he wriggled in his seat and pumped slightly with his hips.
Then the young man was trying to push the woman down flat on her back on the stone bench. She resisted and tore herself from his embrace.
"Don't, darling," she said when she'd caught her breath. "You'll muss me."
"Damn it! I can't stand much more of this. You can't leave me this way."
"All right. But you'll have to do something for me, too. Here, come to momma."
The excitement of the scene he was witnessing transmitted itself to Casey. He could feel the fires of desire growing in the pit of his stomach. His body was hard and tingling, and his legs trembled. He was completely enraptured and could not have torn himself away.
The woman, with her skirt up about her hips, and with the bodice of her dress down around her waist, reached both hands into the young man's lap.
"Relax now," she crooned. "Let momma take care of you. I'm going to make you so happy. Sooo happy. And then you can do for me. Easy now, just let it happen and enjoy it."
The young man caught her wrists for a moment and stilled the movement of her hands. "But that's not what I want," he said in a high-pitched whine. "I want to make love to you."
"I know what you want. But not here. Not tonight. We'll have time soon. Now let me do this for you. We have to get back before we're missed, and you don't want to go back like that, do you?"
The young man resigned himself to his fate. He released her wrists and grabbed the bench on either side of his hips to support himself. The woman leaned over his lap for a moment and kissed him. He tried to grab her head and keep it there, but she was too quick for him.
Once again her hands gripped and moved.
Casey stared with lust-glazed eyes. He saw the wild expression on her face as the young man grew more and more excited. He watched her breasts bounce and shake with every movement of her hands.
Finally the young man cried out softly and her hands stopped moving. She gave him a moment or two to recover himself, then said, "Give me your handkerchief.
He found a handkerchief in the hip pocket of his trousers and gave it to her. She was busy for a moment.
"It's your turn now," she said in a hushed tone.
The young man took her in his arms once again, kissed her on the mouth, and stroked one of her breasts. After a moment she took his hand and guided it to her quivering legs.
With a soft cry of desire she tore her mouth from his. "Darling, take them off. Take my panties off."
The young man dropped to his knees on the ground before the bench and reached both hands up under the hem of her dress. She raised her buttocks from the bench for a moment to let him draw her panties down and off.
When the young man tried to rise again she put both her hands on his shoulders to stop him. He remained sitting on his heels.
"Don't get up," she said in a hoarse voice. "I want you down there. I want you to kiss me."
As she spoke the woman slid her hands up from his shoulders to his neck, then up to his cheeks. She stared deep into his eyes as her hands slipped around behind his head and pulled him gently but firmly toward her.
He resisted for only a moment, then, with a soft cry, he leaned eagerly forward. His lips smacked firmly against the quivering inner surface of one delicate thigh.
"Oh, yes, baby. That's the way. More, more. Momma likes it so much."
His lips traveled up the inner side of her thigh until they could move no higher. She no longer had to hold his head. Instead she let the fingers of one hand trail lightly from his cheek to her body and back again.
Her body heaved and her legs went over his shoulders and locked behind his back. She moaned and sighed and twisted her hips against him.
"Kiss me, darling. Kiss me. Yes. That's it. Yes, yes."
Casey could scarcely believe neither his eyes nor his ears. Here was a married woman in her thirties taking the love of a much younger man at a party being given on a plush Long Island estate. Her husband was probably right inside the house, but she didn't seem to care.
She had the young man completely under her spell. She'd forced him to settle for a rather poor substitute for lovemaking and yet had him perform for her a most intimate and enjoyable function. She was getting the thrill of her life.
At her peak the woman let out a high, keening cry of desire. She clutched the young man violently to her body. All her muscles locked in rigid spasm. Her back arched.
With a long loud sigh she relaxed and released the young man. Her legs unlocked from behind his back and came down from his shoulders.
But he didn't rise immediately. Instead he palmed the inner sides of her thighs and spread her legs even wider apart. He kissed her gently again and again, and they were kisses of gratitude.
The damned fool was grateful to her for allowing him the privilege of serving her in that perverted manner.
She gave a soft, husky laugh of satisfaction, pushed him away with the toe of one high-heeled pump, and reached for her panties. The young man took them from her hands and knelt once again before her to help her dress. She stood up when she had the panties on over her ankles, and he drew them up to her hips, patting them into place with loving touches.
She smoothed her skirt down, hunched her shoulders, and inserted her breasts into the brassiere built into the bodice of the strapless gown. From her small purse she took a compact, opened it, and fixed her make-up and hair in the mirror.
When she was finished she took the young man's hand, and they strolled casually back toward the house. Casey waited until they were quite out of sight, then came out of his place of concealment.
He sat down on the same bench, wiped his brow, and waited for some of the excitement to leave him.
CHAPTER TWO
Casey smoked a cigarette down to the roach before he decided it was safe to return to the party. He fixed his collar, straightened his tie, and brushed the jacket and trousers of his tuxedo as he walked rapidly back toward the house.
The music was still playing, and the other guests were still drinking and dancing. Casey blinked his eyes against the sudden brightness of the interior of the house and went quickly toward the bar. He needed another drink very badly after his experience out in the garden.
When he had his drink he wandered around until he again saw the woman. The young man was not with her. Casey spotted him out on the dance floor with a girl more his own age.
IS The woman was sitting beside a broadly-built man of medium height. The man appeared to be in his early forties. He had a round bear-like body. He had the dark shadow of beard beneath his cleanly-shaven cheeks, and the backs of his hands were matted with thick, dark, curly hair. From the way the woman was sitting beside him and joining in the conversation Casey assumed this was the husband.
But Casey was more interested in the woman. She was small and lean and dark, very self-assured, very cool. Every hair was in place. Her make-up was perfect. She gave not the slightest hint that only a few moments before a man had been making perverted love to her.
Her cheekbones were high and her lips were thin. She had a look of authority in her smoky eyes, as though she was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
Casey smiled to himself and wondered how she would look if she was aware he knew of her relationship with the young man. She wouldn't be so damned sure of herself then, he knew.
Casey wandered on, searching among the guests until he found the man who'd invited him. Jack Hass was an old friend from law school. He and Casey had always planned on opening an office together. But after graduation Jack's parents had arranged a position for him with one of the biggest law firms in the city. Their old dream had died. Yet, they'd remained good friends. When six months after graduation Jack had married, Casey had been his best man. They still saw one another several times a week and spoke frequently over the phone. Jack had even tried to get Casey to come into the big firm. But Casey had refused. He'd told Jack he wasn't interested in corporation law, that he preferred instead to practice criminal law. But that was only part of the reason. Casey knew he didn't belong with a big, rich, conservative law firm. He didn't have the background, the breeding, the ivy-league polish.
"Hi," Jack said, when Casey approached. "Having a good time?"
Casey gave his friend a rueful grin. "It's kind of dull, old pal."
Jack wasn't offended. "At least it's better than hanging around an empty apartment all night. Anyway, Arlene and I are leaving pretty soon. We'll give you a ride back to the city."
"Good, good. Tell me something. Do you know everybody here?"
"Most of them, I guess. Why?"
"Just curious. Who is that guy sitting over there -- the one next to the small dark woman?"
"Him? His name's Ben Dover. Owns a shipping line."
"Dover Steamships?"
"That's the one. The woman is his wife, Eileen.
Why?"
"No special reason. I just thought it would be nice to know all the faces and the names that go along with them. Who knows, I might make some valuable contacts."
Jack laughed. "These aren't the sort of people who are likely to need the services of a criminal lawyer."
"You never know. The rich break just as many laws as the poor. But they get away with it a lot more often."
"It's not only a matter of money."
"Watch it, old friend. You're beginning to sound like the rich young snob who showed up to be my roommate."
Jack hesitated for a moment, then gave Casey a sheepish grin. "You're right. I thought you knocked all that out of me back in school."
"I did the best I could," Casey said lightly. "That first month we fought almost every day."
Arlene, Jack's wife, showed up to claim her husband for one more dance. Casey watched them move out onto the floor. Arlene was a tall, willowy redhead who was much too beautiful for her own good. At any social gathering she was always the object of much attention. Hungry male eyes always followed her. And she was a flirt and a tease.
The music stopped. Jack and Arlene returned. With Casey they went to thank the hostess. One of the servants had Jack's big silver Imperial brought around to the front door.
While they waited for the car Casey noticed Arlene was a little unsteady on her feet. He looked closer. She was also having difficulty focusing her eyes.
The girl was very quietly and very thoroughly stoned. She held her liquor very well. Only the closest scrutiny betrayed her inebriation. And, drunk as she was, she managed to retain a regal air.
The big Imperial was brought to the front door.
Casey and Jack helped Arlene out to the car and into the front seat. Casey got in beside her and Jack went around to slip behind the wheel.
It was only about eleven o'clock, and the roads were not yet empty. Ten minutes of slow driving took them to the main road back to the city. Once on the main road Jack opened up the big car a little. But he couldn't go too fast, there were too many cars on the road. Still, he was able to cruise at about sixty-five miles an hour.
It was one of those wine-like nights when it was too warm to keep the windows rolled up and too cool for the car's air-conditioning unit. So they rode with the windows open and the roaring of the wind.
After they hit the main road Arlene fell asleep. Jack and Casey talked about some of the people Casey had met at the party. Very subtly Casey steered the conversation around to Eileen Dover.
Jack had no real information for him. He didn't know the Dovers very well. And there was no gossip connected with Eileen. Which meant she was usually very careful and very discreet.
Well, Casey thought, she slipped tonight. It was a very bad idea to make love in the garden.
Jack wheeled the big car around a long, slow curve. Arlene, asleep in the middle of the front seat, slumped against Casey. Her cheek rested against his shoulder and one breast was mashed against the side of his arm.
Casey tried to ignore the warm softness of her, the smell of her perfume, the faint odor of fresh perspiration. He turned his memory to the activities in the garden.
That was just as bad.
In her sleep, almost as though she was reading his thoughts, Arlene turned more toward Casey. She threw one arm across his lap and cuddled herself closer.
Casey tensed and glanced at Jack out of the corner of his eye. The driver hadn't noticed anything at all.
Arlene, in her sleep, seemed to think Casey was her husband. She murmured something unintelligible and rubbed her thigh against Casey's leg. The arm across his lap moved until her hand was resting fully upon him.
Casey responded. Only a statue would not have responded. It had been a very erotic evening. The memory of the recently-witnessed sights and the stimulation of Arlene's hand were too much for Casey's self-control.
Instinctively, her hand gripped his response. She squeezed him, murmured again, and pulled closer.
They were in heavier traffic now, traffic which required all of Jack's concentration. He wasn't at all aware of what was happening between his wife and his friend.
Arlene's hand stroked and kneaded and squeezed. Casey's presence seemed to penetrate the alcoholic sleep. She moaned again, a little louder this time, and with unmistakable desire.
Her eyes opened and blinked several times. Confusion wrinkled her brow as she stared up into Casey's face. She looked down from his face to her gripping hand. Her fingers tightened to confirm what she already knew.
Her eyes widened and a dull blush suffused her pretty face. She quickly drew her hand back and sat up straight.
"You were asleep," Casey said softly. "I didn't want to wake you."
"I'm sorry," she told him in an agonized voice. "I thought... "
"You don't have to explain."
"But... "
"It's quite all right. I didn't mind at all. In fact, I enjoyed it."
Anger replaced Arlene's embarrassed confusion. Her lips set in a firm line, and she stared straight ahead. Casey smiled. For the first time since he'd known Arlene he'd managed to pierce her self-confident shell. This was the kind of girl who was always sure of herself, always in control of any situation. It was quite pleasant to see her embarrassed, disturbed, and even angry for a change.
There was no further conversation. Jack stopped to pay a toll, drove through the midtown tunnel, and turned uptown on Third Avenue. As they approached Forty-second Street Casey spoke.
"Hey, look, it's too early yet for me to go back to the apartment. Drop me off right here. Maybe I'll go over to the theater and meet Judy. The performance should just be ending right now."
"I'll take you right to the front door," Jack said. "It's not very much out of the way."
"Please, I wish you wouldn't. I'll grab a cab from here. I want to stop and pick up a newspaper, anyhow."
"Suit yourself, chum," Jack said, swinging in to the curb and applying the brakes.
Casey got out and walked around to Jack's side of the car. "I had a good time tonight. Thanks for the invitation."
"Glad you could make it. We both are."
"Oh! Yes, of course," Arlene said. "It's always nice to have you along." Her words were friendly, but the tone was glacier-like.
"Yeah, well, I'll talk to you during the week," Casey said. "Good night, now. And thanks again."
"Good night," Jack said.
"Good night," said Arlene.
The traffic signal changed, and Jack eased the big car back into traffic.
Casey waited until the car was out of sight, then crossed the street and flagged down the first empty cross-town taxi. It was a relief to be rid of Jack and Arlene. And it had been relatively easy to talk them out of driving him directly to the theater.
He didn't want to go to the theater. Judy would still be keyed up from her performance. The dressing rooms and the entire backstage area of the theater would be full of friends and actors complimenting one another. It was the same way every night.
Casey had something else in mind. Arlene's stimulating hand and the erotic activities in the garden had built the fires of his passion. But they were very special fires. Ones which could not be extinguished by a quick sex session with his own wife before she turned over and went to sleep.
Casey needed something different, something raw and lustful and perverted. He wanted only mindless, unemotional sex -- not tender lovemaking. For what he had in mind he needed the services of a professional.
The cab turned uptown on Sixth Avenue, then turned left again on Fifty-first Street, and stopped at the corner of Seventh Avenue. Casey paid the driver, overtipped him, and got out.
He stood on the corner for a moment. It was ten minutes of midnight, and the sidewalks were still jammed with people. All the neon signs blazed and most of time shops and restaurants were still open.
Casey turned left on Seventh Avenue and strolled casually down toward Forty-second Street. At this time of year the nine blocks between Fifty-first and Forty-second was where the tramps strolled.
It was quite easy to spot the professionals. They strolled slowly, singly or in pairs, and they signaled men with their eyes. Casey watched them coming past him in the opposite direction as they mingled with the legitimate tourists.
One by one they would catch his eye and raise an eyebrow in question. And one after another he would give an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Then he saw something that struck his fancy. There were two of them -- two Negro girls, young, slender, and pretty. They were strolling slowly side by side, and their eyes were carefully evaluating every man they passed.
Casey caught the eye of the one on the outside and nodded his head. She nodded back but gave no other sign. She and her friend strolled past him. He stopped and turned to watch them. They went on twenty or thirty feet, then turned and went to look into a store window. The one who'd answered his nod looked back at him and nodded again.
Nonchalantly, Casey started toward the two girls. They whispered together for a moment. The other one looked at him and said something to her friend. Before Casey reached them the two girls turned and continued their stroll. He followed at a discreet distance.
They walked all the way to Fifty-second Street before turning off Seventh Avenue. Casey turned the corner a couple of minutes later. The side street was dark and quiet. There were no pedestrians. Both girls were several doors down from the corner, leaning against a building and smoking cigarettes.
As Casey approached he pulled out a fresh cigarette. "Got a light?" he asked, stopping before them.
One of them opened her purse, took out a book of matches, and struck a light for him. He cupped her slim brown hand as he lit his cigarette.
"I'm looking for some action," he said. "You girls in the trade?"
"You a cop?"
Casey grinned and shook his head.
"We'll check that later," said the one who'd first spotted him and who seemed to be the spokesman for the pair. "What kind of action you lookin' for?"
"I'm in the mood for a real wild party. I feel like going around the world. I want a really good time."
"Something like that's expensive," the girl said.
"How much?"
"If you found it, it would probably cost you fifty dollars. That's if you wanted two girls."
"Why not? The more the merrier."
The girl grinned at him. "You're a real swinger, huh?"
"I want a real good time. How about it?"
"We're thinking it over," she said.
They looked at one another and both nodded at the same time. Casey let out a pleased sigh of relief. "Where?" he asked.
"There's a hotel a couple of blocks from here," the girl said.
Casey shook his head. "I don't like those hotels. There's not enough privacy to really relax and have a good time. Besides, I don't want this to be one of those twenty-minute deals. Not at these prices."
"Well, we got an apartment uptown, but it will cost you ten dollars more."
"I don't care about the money as long as I get what I want. Let's go."
"Not so fast," the girl said. "First let me see your wallet."
"What for?"
"We got to make sure you're not a cop."
Casey took out his wallet and handed it to her. She stepped closer to the street light and looked quickly through the papers, licenses, and credit cards. While she was doing that the other one ran her hands over his jacket and trousers to make sure he wasn't carrying another wallet... one that might contain a badge.
When the second girl found nothing she smiled at Casey and pressed her hand to the front of his trousers. He grinned back and leaned against her hand.
"Man, you ready to go right now," the second girl said.
"That's why I'm here."
The first girl returned his wallet and nodded her approval. "Let's go," she said.
CHAPTER THREE
They went back to the brightly-lit intersection of Fifty-second Street and Seventh Avenue and waited for an empty cab to come by. Casey looked at them more closely. The spokesman was a little taller and a year or two older. They were both wearing elaborate wigs and very red lipstick. The younger one's wig was a dark auburn color. The other one wore a black wig.
"You saw my wallet, and you know my name," Casey said. "What are your names?"
"Mister, in this business we don't give our names."
"I don't care what your real names are," he told them both.
The younger one flashed him a quick, white-toothed grin. "I'm Oralie," she said. "She's Pam."
"I'm Casey," he said to the younger one.
A cruising taxi came by and stopped for them. They got into the back seat, Casey in the middle. The driver glanced at the three of them in the mirror and shrugged his shoulders.
"Broadway and West Eighty-fourth," Pam told the cabby.
Casey settled back for the ride flanked by the two young hookers. They were both sitting quite close to him, and their thighs pressed against the sides of his legs. There was no conversation in the cab.
The driver cut over to Sixth Avenue at Fiftieth Street, then turned uptown. He skirted the southwestern end of Central Park and turned up Broadway where it became a two-way street.
Casey felt the brush of fingers lightly on his thigh and looked down to see Oralie's hand on his leg. She looked up at him and smiled. Her hand went to his lap and pressed firmly. Pam had both her hands in her own lap and was staring out the window.
Casey reached and put his hand on Oralie's knee. Her short skirt rode high on her thighs, and his fingers felt the smoothness of her nylon stockings. She made no protest when he slipped his hand beneath the hem of her skirt and stroked the smooth, warm flesh above the tops of her stockings. Under her skirt there was a kind of humid heat. The flesh of her inner thighs quivered to his touch. He reached higher, and she opened her legs as wide as the tight skirt would permit. She was wearing panties, but he could feel the rich flesh through the sheer material.
He poked with his fingers. She leaned her shoulder against him and squeezed him with her hand.
The cab stopped at the intersection of Broadway and Eighty-fourth Streets.
"Let's go," Pam said, giving Casey a nudge with her shoulder.
Oralie got out first, then Casey, and finally Pam. Casey paid the driver and tipped him half a dollar for the short ride. The cabby grinned and shot away from the curb with a squeal of protesting tires.
"Where to now?" Casey asked.
"Down there," Pam told him, pointing down Eighty-fourth Street. "It's the Dunstead Apartment Hotel. You go in first. Don't stop at the desk. Go right to the elevator and ride up to the twelfth floor. Take the stairs down to the eleventh floor and wait for us. We'll give you a minute or two, then follow you in."
"All right. I'll see you inside. Don't make me wait too long."
Casey started down the block toward the hotel. When he turned in he glanced back out of the corner of his eye and saw them begin to follow. He entered the lobby through the plate glass doors.
The Dunstead Apartment Hotel had seen better days, but was not yet a fleabag. The lobby carpeting was worn and thin, and the leather arm chairs and sofas had sagging springs. There were some potted plants and ash-tray stands scattered about.
The desk was on the left as Casey entered, and the elevator was straight ahead at the back of the lobby. Casey walked quickly to the elevator without glancing at the clerk behind the desk. The clerk didn't call to him, and just as he reached for the elevator button the door opened and an elderly couple stepped out.
Casey stepped into the elevator, turned around, and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. Just as the doors slid closed he saw the two girls entering the lobby.
Casey got off at twelve, hurried down to the eleventh floor and stopped in front of the elevator. He watched the floor indicator go down, stop at lobby, then start up again almost immediately. The elevator doors opened and the girls were alone in the car. Pam smiled at him for the first time and led the way to the apartment. There were two locks requiring separate keys. Pam got the door opened, turned on a light, and led the way inside.
They were in a small living room with a tiny kitchen alcove. Through an open door Casey could see the bedroom. The apartment was hot and stuffy.
"Sit down. Relax," Pam said as she crossed the room to open a window.
Casey sat down. Oralie grinned at him and disappeared into the bedroom. Pam came to Casey's chair, perched on the arm, and reached down into his lap.
"Good," she murmured when she felt the firmness there. Then, "You can pay me now."
Casey took out his wallet and handed her three twenty-dollar bills. Pam held them up to the light to make sure they weren't counterfeit. Casey grinned.
"It's not funny," she told him. "Lots of girls get stuck with queer money."
"Let's get one thing straight," he told her. "This is no short-time deal."
"For this kind of money you can stay as long as you like," she told him. "But, no funny business. No specialty stuff."
"Wait a minute, what do you mean?"
"No spanking, stuff like that. Nothing painful. We don't go that route."
"I don't, either. But I do like to speak French and Greek."
She grinned at him and made a lewd mouth. "That stuff's all right."
Holding the sixty dollars in her fist, Pam slid off the arm of the chair and disappeared through the bedroom door. A moment later Oralie came into the room.
She'd removed her wig and dress, and now wore red lace panties, black lace bra, black garter belt, and stockings. Her natural hair was a kinky wool skullcap. She seemed surprised to find him sitting in the chair still fully dressed.
"Come on," she said. "Get outa them clothes. Can't have no fun that way."
"You first," he said, pointing to her. "Then you can come over here and do me."
She grinned at him, bent her arms up behind her back, and unhooked her bra. Her breasts were dark and small and firm. She glanced at him, then looked down at herself and cupped her own breasts. She bounced them in her palms and smiled. The aureoles were darker black circles against her dark brown flesh, and the nipples held promise of being large and thick. He could see them growing against the tips of her fingers.
"You haven't been in this business too long, have you?" Casey asked as she bent forward to strip off her panties.
She stopped in a leaning posture with her panties down around her knees, and looked up at him. "How'd you know?"
He grinned at her. "You're enjoying all this too much to be a long-time pro."
She returned his smile, finished removing her panties, and pressed the palm of one hand flat against her smoothly-rounded belly. "Only a couple of weeks."
"Leave the garter belt and stockings on," he said. "They make you look more naked."
She shrugged, and her breasts bounced. "You're paying the tab. Anyway, I was giving it away free until I met Pam at a party. I'm a gal who likes my lovin', and she convinced me there wasn't no reason why I shouldn't get my kicks and get paid for it, too. You like?" She posed for him, arms raised, turning slowly in place.
Her slim thighs were pressed tightly together, and the elastic of the garter belt framed and emphasized the black tufted center of her body. When her back was toward him he saw her buttocks were smooth and sweetly curved.
"Come over here," he said in a husky voice when she'd turned full circle. "Undress me. Make it fun for both of us."
She stood right in front of him and bent forward to open his jacket. He reached up and cupped the hanging fruit of her hard, small breasts. She laughed and wriggled her shoulders, making her breasts dance in his hands. He squeezed them and plucked at the nipples, then released her.
"It must have been some party," she said.
"How'd you know?"
"Well, I didn't figure you went out looking for hookers in a tuxedo. And it must have been some wild party to get you turned on like you are."
Casey leaned forward so she could slip his jacket off and began to tell her about the party. He mentioned no names or locations, but told her what he'd seen in the garden.
She undressed him while she listened. Her eyes grew bright, and her breathing became labored. The things he was telling her excited her very much.
Oralie pulled his suspenders down off his shoulders, opened his shirt, and drew it off. Casey remained seated. Next she pulled his undershirt up and off. Her hot, smooth hands pressed against his bare chest and slipped down to his beltline. She leaned over further and pressed her wet, hot, open lips to his bare chest.
He stroked her shoulders and reached under to cup her breasts for a moment. Her hands found the button of his trousers and opened it. Then she dropped to her knees, unlaced his shoes, and removed them.
He lifted himself from the seat so she could pull his trousers down to his knees. Then she reached up once again and yanked down his shorts. He sat back and lifted his feet so she could pull his trousers and shorts off.
She stood up, the trousers and shorts in her hand, and looked down into his lap, then up from his lap and all the way down to his feet. "You're pretty," she said in a soft voice. "And big. You shouldn't have to buy your women."
"I don't have to," he told her. "But tonight I wanted to."
She understood and nodded. He watched her cross to a chair, fold his trousers carefully to avoid wrinkles, then drape his shirt and jacket over the back of the chair.
She returned to him, eased into his lap, and looped one arm around his neck. The hot curves of her bottom pressed against his feverish flesh. He cupped one breast and claimed the other with his lips. He was rewarded by her soft moan of desire at the contact.
Pam returned from the bedroom, completely naked now, except that she still wore her wig. Her body was softer and fuller than Oralie's but no more exciting.
Casey eased the younger girl from his lap and rose to his feet. "Let's go into the bedroom," he said. "We'll need, lots of room."
The bed was big and soft, with an expensive mattress. The bedspread had been removed, and the blanket turned down. The sheets were fresh and cool as Casey climbed up and stretched out on his back in the center of the bed.
Oralie crawled up after him and stretched out beside him. Pam walked around the foot of the bed and climbed up on the other side.
"All right," Pam said. "How do you want it?"
"I don't want it any way, right now," he told her. "Let's just have a little fun first."
"Yeah, yeah," Oralie said in a husky voice. She pressed herself against his side and reached one hot black hand to the center of his body. Her fingers wrapped around him, and he looked down, enjoying the contrast between his white flesh and her dark skin. Her clever hand made his passion and desire soar skyward. He put his hand to her body, smoothing it down from her breasts to her hot trembling loins. And at the same time he turned his face toward Pam.
He nuzzled between her large, soft breasts. She responded mechanically, putting one arm around his neck and adjusting herself so his mouth had access to her nipples.
But after a few moments of furious kissing he felt her nipples begin to swell and harden. A tremor ran through her body, and he could feel her soften and relax beside him.
Oralie was not satisfied with only the contact between her hand and his body. She pulled herself closer, flattening her breasts against his side, and pressed her mouth to his chest.
Her lips encircled one of his flat male nipples. She sucked hard and nibbled with her teeth. Casey was surprised at the pleasurable sensation. She continued to manipulate him with one hand, while the other traveled all over his body.
She slipped that other hand beneath one of his hard buttocks. The tips of her fingers pressed into his flesh, found their way to the crevice between his buttocks.
Her fingers caressed and her lips kissed, and the dull heat of desire began to suffuse his entire body. His skin tingled and burned. The soles of his feet itched.
Oralie's mouth swept down to descend over him, and he cried out with passion when he felt the warm, wet giving of her lips.
He used both hands on Pam now, turning her over onto her stomach. And he bent at the waist so he could take her rich, smooth buttocks in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded those twin mounds of softness, pressed them tightly together, pried them wide apart.
The living flame of lust completely enveloped him. He cast aside the last of his inhibitions and gave himself up entirely to the available pleasures.
He kissed each of Pam's buttocks with a loud, wet smack. Her rump was smooth and warm to his lips, and she betrayed her pleasure at the kiss by a soft, low groan.
Oralie raised her head from him, and he rose to his knees. He reached down, caught Pam by the hips and raised her to her hands and knees, then crawled around to kneel behind her.
Oralie drew herself closer.
Casey filled his hands with Pam's buttocks and pried them wide apart. Oralie reached for him and guided him to Pam's body. He thrilled to the touch of her hand and to the smooth warmth of Pam's rump against his loins.
Oralie made the necessary adjustments and insertion, and he lunged forward. Pam groaned deeply and shoved her buttocks back against him to increase the contact.
Once Pam and Casey were joined Oralie moved around behind Casey and planted her lips firmly against one buttock. Her teeth scraped, and her tongue danced over his flesh. Each kiss drove him to lunge harder against Pam.
He released her buttocks, fitted himself over the curve of her back, and reached around and under her with both hands. One hand found the ripe hanging fruit of her bosom. The other gently caressed the heaving bowl of her underbelly.
Pam cried out and began to buck like an unbroken mare. Casey held on as best he could, thrilling to her movements and to Oralie's wilder and wilder kisses and caresses.
Every time he pulled back, Oralie would reach between them, grasp him for a moment, and touch Pam at the same time. Those touches were driving them all crazy. And every time he was ready to slam into Pam again, Oralie would encourage him with a kiss to his pumping buttocks.
Casey lost all sense of time and place. All he knew was his own passion and the pleasure of their bodies.
Oralie rolled over onto her back so she was at right angles to Pam's kneeling figure. Then she skidded back on her shoulders so her head disappeared beneath the kneeling girl. And finally she swung her hips around so they were directly beneath Pam's head. Casey only understood part of what was going to happen. He saw Pam's head drop forward and disappear between Oralie's parted thighs. And he heard the girl on her back give a long, low moan of pleasure at the Sapphic contact.
But he was really surprised when he felt Oralie's head come up under Pam and her wet glorious mouth pressed against his body.
This fantastic kiss, both of them at the same time, added an entirely new dimension to the pleasure.
He whinnied like a stallion, strained to Pam, and felt himself pulse and throb within her as the white-hot jet of his passion exploded. Skyrockets went off inside his skull and her muscles gripped and relaxed in a rapid rhythm as she, too, reached a glorious peak.
Beneath them, Oralie writhed and kissed until several moments later she reached her own conclusion.
Casey pulled away from Pam and rolled onto his back. They stretched out on either side of him, and it was many long minutes before any of them could speak.
"Mmmmm," Casey said finally. "That was great. Are you girls Lesbians?"
Pam laughed. "You mean that last part? We're not really dykes. We just swing both ways. Girls can be as much fun as boys... in a different sort of way. And it wasn't fair for Oralie to be left out while you and I were havin' a ball."
Casey grinned. "I don't mind. In fact it kind of turns me on."
Pam returned his smile and reached her hand for him. "You talk like you want to go again, but you're not ready."
"You make me ready. Go ahead."
She smiled once more and leaned over his belly. For a moment he felt the smooth caress of her cheek against his flesh and the hot excitement of her breath. Then she was kissing him, and the fires of passion once again leaped high.
"Are you a one-way swinger?" Oralie asked, pulling herself closer to him.
"Huh?"
"You like to give as well as get?"
"I guess so," he said, not understanding completely until she rose to straddle his chest.
She sat down on his chest and her buttocks were smooth and warm. Her feet were above his shoulders, and her thighs were on either side of his cheeks. He closed his eyes, saw the scene in the garden again with the young man kneeling before the woman on the bench, and understood completely.
It was not something he ordinarily did, but he was too excited to refuse. Oralie reached down, took his head between her hands, and slid upward on his chest.
All sights and sounds were cut off, and he knew only the softness. He slipped his hands over her hips and pulled her even tighter to him. He could feel the muscles in her belly and thighs work as she rolled her hips and forced herself harder against his kissing lips and stabbing tongue.
And at the same time his own hips were bouncing on the bed to the tempo of Pam's greedy mouth.
Before he lost himself entirely to the lust he thought, "It's going to be a long and wild night."
And it was.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was four a.m. When Casey left the hotel. He was completely drained of passion. There was a hollowness in his belly and a weakness in his upper thighs. He was completely satisfied with the transaction. He'd gotten more than his money's worth from the two avid prostitutes. And they'd gotten more than they'd bargained for, too. Casey had given as much pleasure as he'd received. In all possible ways.
At three a.m. he'd staggered from the rumpled, sweat-soaked bed to shower before dressing. He didn't want to go home with the smell of lust still upon him. But the girls had insisted on joining him in the shower. They'd washed him. He'd washed them. One thing had led to another, and pretty soon the three of them had been making love in the tub under the running water.
Every time Casey'd thought he was completely finished they'd found another way to interest and arouse him. Once, in the middle of the evening, he'd rolled to one side of the bed and watched them make love to one another. Another time he'd made love to Oralie while she was on her hands and knees.
The room clerk was asleep behind the desk when Casey stepped from the elevator and crossed the lobby. Out on the street Casey turned back toward Broadway. He hailed a cruising taxi and gave the driver his East Side address.
The cabby cut through the park, and, since there was very little traffic on the road at that hour, had Casey home in less than ten minutes. Casey paid and tipped him and entered the modern and luxurious apartment building.
He used his key on the lobby door and crossed to the elevator. The apartment was far more than he could afford on the earnings from his young law business. But Judy insisted they use the money she was paid. And after a while Casey had become used to the luxury and no longer minded having his wife pay the bills.
The elevator whisked him to the eighteenth floor, and he went down the carpeted corridor to his apartment. He stepped inside, turned on the foyer light, locked the door from the inside, and kicked off his shoes.
He undressed in the foyer and hung his clothes in the hall closet so he wouldn't have to awaken Judy in the bedroom. But when he went into the bedroom she stirred and sat up.
"What time is it?" she asked in a sleepy voice.
"A little after four."
"Kind of late for a society party, isn't it?"
"A bunch of us got to talking and nobody noticed the time," Casey lied. "How'd the performance go?"
"Fine. I had three curtain calls for myself."
"What time did you come in?" Casey asked as he slipped into bed.
"About two. I missed you tonight."
"I missed you, too. But you know how dull it can be hanging around the theater night after night."
"I know, darling," she answered, leaning over to kiss him softly on the cheek, then lying back again. "I don't mind about the party."
"Anyway, I think I might have made some good business contacts tonight," he said, adding to the lie. "Met a man named Dover -- Dover Steamships? --who said he wanted to talk to me about some kind of business He said he'd call in a day or two."
"Hmmm," she said sleepily. "Maybe you'll be able to get out of criminal law."
"Go back to sleep," he said.
"Good night."
"Good night."
It was ten in the morning when Casey awakened. He was wide awake immediately, with no period of half-sleep between. He sat up in bed, threw back the sheet, and got up. He felt alive and vital and full of energy.
In the bathroom he took a hot shower, then a cold one. He shaved, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair.
On his way out of the bedroom he slipped into a robe.
Judy was in the kitchen reading the morning paper and drinking coffee.
"Good morning, darling," he said, stooping to kiss her on the cheek, then crossing to get a cup and saucer from the cupboard.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down across from her. She was deeply engrossed in some juicy tidbit in one of the gossip columns in the Daily News.
"Any calls this morning?" he asked.
"What?" She looked up at him and frowned slightly. "Oh, no -- no calls." Judy turned her attention back to the newspaper. Casey drank his coffee and looked at his wife.
Judy Tompkins was tall
nearly five-feet-eight inches in her stocking feet. Her face was oval, with prominent cheekbones, an aquiline nose and a strong jaw. Her complexion was clear and fresh and light and, there was a most attractive cleft in her chin. Sometimes, in subdued lighting she reminded Casey of a very young and beautiful Ava Gardner. And though she was willowy rather than full bodied, there was something about the way she moved that reminded him strongly of Sophia Loren -- it was something of grace and cerebral beauty combined with a strong earthiness, a very basic animal passion.
This suggestion of powerful passion, Casey knew, was borne out in Judy's make-up. There were times when she was making love when she became absolutely wild. Those were the best times, but they weren't too frequent any longer.
Her shoulders sloped gentry beneath the diaphanous peignoir that had cost her eighty-five dollars at one of the exclusive women's shops on the East Side. Through the sheer material the globes of her wonderful breasts were quite visible. They were large and firm and rode high on her chest. And they did not require the support of a brassiere.
Judy despised confining undergarments and only wore them when absolutely necessary. She only wore the bra when it was necessary to keep her breasts from bouncing beneath her blouse or dress, and she only wore a girdle when she felt it would be in poor taste to have her lyre-shaped buttocks jiggling and shifting with every step.
In repose her face was empty. But it was a highly mobile face, and any change of expression gave it life and vitality. It was an actress' face. She could say more with a lift of her eyebrow than many women with a thousand words. Sometimes, when the mood was just right, she could turn him into a ravening lustful beast merely by pursing her lips and sticking the pink point of her tongue out at him while her eyes glinted merrily.
She finished the column and put the paper aside. Now she smiled and the whole room seemed to light up with the flash of her even white teeth. Her blue-green eyes were soft and full of love.
"What axe your plans for the day, Darling?" she asked.
"I've got to be in court this afternoon for a couple of bouts," he told bar.
"More of those public defender things?" He nodded.
"They don't pay very much. How can you ever expect to make a living with poor clients?"
He smiled at her. "In the first place, I have no choice about these cases. The court assigns the lawyer, and the only way he can get out of it is if the client turns him down. The city pays the fees -- small as they are. But this is the way you build a reputation. You save a couple of these bums from a year or two or whatever it is, and the word gets around that you're a pretty good lawyer. When you help them, they send then-friends and relatives."
"Who also can't pay," Judy cracked.
"Now you're being difficult, dear. Besides, my practice isn't limited to defending poverty-stricken criminals. I merely refuse to limit myself only to corporation law. Why just the other day I had a retired couple come in to have their wills made out."
"And how much did you charge them?"
"Fifty dollars. They didn't have very much money to begin with."
"Well, you do as you please, darling. I know I can't talk you out of it."
"Just give me a little time, honey. Some day I'll be bigger than The Biggest."
Judy smiled and reached across the table to pat the back of his hand. "I'm going shopping," she said as she rose. "And I'll probably go straight to the theater this afternoon. Will I see you there tonight?"
"I don't think so," he told her. "I'll be waiting for you when you get home."
"I wish you'd change your mind," she said. "I hate dunking of you all alone here all evening. You could pick me up at the theater after the curtain, and we could go somewhere. There are always parties going on."
"I don't know," he told her. "I'll can you at the theater this evening."
She turned and walked through the kitchen doorway, and her filmy garment billowed out about her. He watched the twin hemispheres of her buttocks clench and spring back with every step.
It was only when she was out of sight that he let himself think about the two tramps the night before. He was surprised that even now, the morning after, he felt no guilt at having betrayed his wife. What he'd needed last night she would never have been able to give him. And in taking his pleasure with the two professionals he had denied Judy nothing. He hadn't hurt her or taken anything away from her. If she didn't know about it, nothing between them would have to be different.
Casey poured another cup of coffee and pulled the newspaper over. He was in the middle of a report about a newly-wed bride who'd been murdered when Judy came back into the kitchen. She was fully dressed and ready to leave.
Casey turned his face up to her. She leaned over to kiss him on the mouth. He slipped one hand around behind her and cupped one of her sweet haunches. She waggled her hips and pulled her mouth away. A smile spread across her face.
"None of that, now," she said lightly. "If you get me started, I'll never get out of here. We've been married too long for you to be a sex maniac."
"My good woman, I resent the implications of your statement. When was I ever a sex maniac?"
Judy giggled. "When? Why, from the first day I met you. You just couldn't get into my pants quick enough. The only reason you married me was because I wouldn't let you make love to me."
"Slander!" he cried in mock seriousness. "Slander, I say."
"Oh, yeah? Remember our wedding night?"
He smiled softly. "How could I ever forget our wedding night?"
"Well, then, you remember you made love to me eight times between midnight and dawn. Anybody who makes love eight times in one night is, in my book, a raving sex maniac."
"It seems I remember something else about that night. Right up to the eighth time you were with me all the way. In fact, and I'm pretty sure about this, I wanted to quit along around number five or six, and you were the one who wanted to continue."
Now Judy grinned impishly. "Well, I never said I wasn't a sex maniac, too."
He smacked her smartly on the rump. She kissed him lightly on the forehead and left. He heard the front door close and turned his attention back to the newspaper account of the murder.
When he finished he put the paper to one side and called his telephone answering service. Half a dozen people had called, but none of them had requested he call back. Evidently none of the calls was anything important.
While he was still on the telephone he heard the front door open. It had to be Pearl -- the cleaning girl who came in three afternoons a week. Just as he was hanging up the phone Pearl came into the kitchen.
"Oh!" she said, startled to find him there. "I didn't expect nobody was home, Mr. Tompkins."
"It's all right, Pearl. Ill be gone and out of your way in a few minutes."
He stood up from the kitchen chair, and his robe gaped open for a moment. Before he could pull it closed he saw her eyes dart to his middle.
"I'm sorry," he said.
The Negro woman shrugged her lean shoulders. "I seen it all before. You don't have nothin' to be sorry about."
Casey brushed past her and went into the bedroom to dress. Pearl was a real character. She was somewhere around thirty, slim, and very dark, and not really very attractive. But she had big, soft buttocks that filled the seats of her skirts almost to the bursting point.
Casey knew she nipped at the liquor supply while she worked. But finding good household help these days was so difficult he'd never said anything about it. It was just another part of the expense of employing her.
She'd worked for them for over a year, and in that time Casey had found out very little about her. She was not married -- that much he knew for sure. But she had been living with a man for almost a year and just a few months ago she'd changed lovers.
When she was working and Casey was around the house, she didn't mind talking quite frankly with him. Once she'd told him about the husband of another employer who'd made advances. And from the tone of her voice he'd gathered she hadn't resisted very much. Casey shook his head as he dressed. Except for that big behind of hers there was nothing attractive about Pearl. This other guy must have been pretty hard up if he tried her. But, then, there was always the possibility it was only a tall tale.
Casey dressed in his dark gray Ivy League suit -- the one with the vest. But when he left the apartment he neither wore a hat nor carried an overcoat. The doorman greeted him and whistled up a cab. Casey gave the driver the downtown address of his office and settled back for the ride.
As he got off the elevator and headed for his office he heard his phone ringing. But by the time he got the door unlocked and got inside it had stopped. He waited a moment or two, then called his answering service. The caller had not left a name or phone number.
Casey busied himself with paperwork for the next half hour. When he was prepared for the two court cases that afternoon he shoved the papers into his attache case. These court referral jobs were usually quite simple. Most of the time, after interviewing the client and hearing his story, you convinced him to plead guilty, and that was the end of it.
He glanced at his watch. It was just noon. The afternoon court session would not begin until two o'clock. He settled back in his chair and let himself think about Eileen Dover and her young lover.
He couldn't get her out of his mind. There was something totally fascinating about her. He found the dominant nature of her personality curiously attractive. She looked like she would enjoy being cruel to a man.
On impulse Casey picked up the telephone and dialed Harry Forest's number. Harry was another old school chum. Harry had graduated two years before Casey. And after graduation he'd gone straight to the F. B. I. Academy. Harry had put in two years as an agent, and then had resigned to open his own firm.
After struggling along for nearly a year as a starving lawyer, he'd switched over to the investigative end of the business. With his training he was a good investigator. And because of his law background he was very popular with New York law firms. They could always depend on him to turn up solid evidence.
Harry's secretary put Casey right through to her boss.
"Hi," Casey said. "I guess you're not too busy to talk."
Harry Forest laughed. "I run this place. I'm never too busy. It's great having other people to do all the legwork while I sit back here and collect the fees. What's on your little mind this morning?"
"I want a background on someone."
"General information or in-depth study?"
"I suppose I want everything you can possibly turn up."
"You suppose? Is this for you or for a client?"
"It's personal, Harry. It's for me."
Harry laughed again. "I will not ran a complete dossier on that beautiful wife of yours, if that's what you have in mind. I refuse. Husbands are always better off if they don't know too much about their wives' backgrounds."
It was Casey's turn to laugh. "No. It's nothing like that."
"In that case I'd have to charge you the full rate. Personal or not. Unless you need this stuff pretty badly, ifs not worth turning my bloodhounds loose."
"You must have a mind-reading machine over there," Casey said. "How'd you know ft was unimportant?"
"Brother, when you've been in tins business as long as I have, you'll know, too. I could tell from your tone of voice right at the beginning. And then you said you supposed you wanted everything we could turn up. You just didn't sound like a man who really needed information."
"Do you read everyone's mind so easily?"
"It's tougher with strangers. You were easy because I know you so well. Now, when are we going to see you and that wife of yours out to the house?"
"I don't know, Harry. Judy just opened in this play a while ago. Things are pretty hectic right now. I'll call you when we get some free time, and we can set something up."
"Right, chum. And you keep in touch, hear? And how about giving me some business."
"Ill have to find some for myself, first You want a lawyer with a rich client and no brains."
"Now all you have to do is find the rich client."
"Stabbed in the back," Casey said. "I'll call you soon. Take it easy, now."
"Easy. Hard. Anyway I can get it. So long, buddy."
"So long, Harry."
Casey returned the receiver to its cradle and made a face. Getting Harry Forest to run a check on Eileen Dover had been a stupid idea to begin with. What was he going to do with whatever he found out about her? It was a good thing Harry had talked him out of it.
He tried to push all thoughts of the dark, slim woman out of his mind as he locked up the office and left the building. There was a bar and grill only a block from the courthouse that was frequented by lawyers, bondsmen, and court personnel. Casey spotted some people he knew and joined them.
He had a plate of corned beef and cabbage and a bottle of beer for lunch, then went back to the courthouse with the others. There was still half an hour before the afternoon session, and he planned to use it to see both of his clients.
He couldn't do much for them. They both admitted their guilt, and they were going to plead guilty when called. But, at least he could talk to them and perhaps make them feel a little easier about the mystery and confusion of court procedure.
Before he went down to see the prisoners Casey checked the docket. He was pleasantly surprised. He'd be finished early today. His cases were numbers one and two. It was the first pleasant thing that had happened around the courthouse since he'd had his first case thrown out for lack of evidence.
The first case was a Billy Sprague. Forty-two, married, no children, a longshoreman. He'd come home drunk once too often and had beaten up his wife. Fed up to her toothless gums with his beatings she'd finally called the police. Except for the wife-beating, Sprague was a solid citizen. No prior arrests. Not even a traffic ticket.
When he'd been assigned the case Casey had gone to see the wife to try and convince her to drop the charges. She'd been adamant. Billy Sprague had been beating her up for nearly twenty years. This time she wanted him punished.
Sprague had already spent eight days in the city jail. Casey was pretty sure he could get him off with a ninety-day suspended sentence. It all depended upon what sort of mood the judge was in. If the judge had had a pleasant lunch and was not suffering from heart-bran or gas, it would be easy.
The second case was a little more serious. A nineteen-year-old Negro boy named Jimmy Webb. Four arrests as a juvenile offender -- records not available to the court Jimmy Webb was on the District Attorney's list of suspected narcotics addicts and pushers.
Webb had been arrested on a Saturday night in Harlem when he'd become involved in a street fracas between a bunch of Black Muslims and the police. When they searched him on the spot, they'd found nearly two full ounces of Marijuana in a plastic sack in his right hip pocket.
At first Webb had told Casey he knew nothing about the pot... that someone must have slipped it into his pocket during the scrambling. It was all a frame, he'd claimed. The cops had put that stuff on him.
But after a while Webb had admitted prior knowledge of the stuff. It wasn't his, though, he'd claimed. He was just delivering it for a friend. It was just a favor.
Again there wasn't much Casey could do. Possession of that much narcotics was considered proof of intent to sell. And they were cracking down on pushers all over the city.
The one small factor to Webb's advantage was that he was not an addict. He hadn't been screaming for a fix after the first couple of hours in jail. That would do something to dispute the D.A.'s claim that he was an addict and a pusher.
Casey intended to pull all the strings on this one. Plead Webb guilty and throw him on the mercy of the court. It wouldn't be too tough to do the deprived, slum-kid bit. And the four arrests as a juvenile could not be considered against Webb.
If they were very lucky, the judge would give Webb a year in the workhouse. And if he kept his nose clean there, he could be out on the streets in less than three months -- figuring the two weeks he'd already been in jail.
Casey talked to them one at a time, explained carefully what was going to happen once they got into the courtroom, and wished them each luck. They were both very grateful for his visit, and he was glad he'd thought of it.
Once the court session opened things went quite rapidly. The Sprague case took less than five minutes. But the judge wasn't in the best of moods, and Billy Sprague drew a severe reprimand, a ninety-day sentence with forty-five days suspended.
Casey was surprised. Forty-five days in jail for beating up your own wife was a little heavy. But the wife had given the D. A.'s man the full story, and the judge had responded to the picture of a sulking hulk of a man who'd been beating up his wife for twenty years.
The big surprise, though, was the Webb case. Casey gave it the full treatment -- sad violin music and all. The judge listened impassively and then questioned the boy.
Webb was smart. He used just the right combination of hangdog expression and youthful sincerity. It was to his further credit that he'd had a legitimate job before his arrest. By the time the judge was through asking questions the picture wasn't as black as it had seemed.
Somehow the judge was convinced that Jimmy Webb was neither an addict nor a pusher. The old man on the bench actually seemed to believe the story that Webb had merely been carrying the package to a friend.
The boy got off with two years probation, and Casey almost fell over when the judge announced the sentence.
And that was it for the day. By a quarter of three Casey was able to extricate himself from the grateful clutches of Webb's mother and family.
During the cab ride back to the apartment Casey once again turned his thoughts to Eileen Dover. He couldn't get the woman out of his mind. He wondered what her reaction would be if he were to phone and tell her he'd been in the garden the night before.
That was as dumb an idea as turning Harry Forest loose on her.
Pearl was vacuuming in the living room when Casey entered the apartment. He could tell from the glassy look in her eyes and from the way she moved that she'd been at the liquor cabinet.
And at that moment a drink didn't sound like such a bad idea. Casey poured himself a drink and shouted at her until she turned off the vacuum cleaner.
"You want a drink?" he asked in the sudden silence.
She looked at the bottle, hesitated, then shook her head. "I guess I better not."
"Why not? You've probably been nipping at it since I walked out of here this morning."
Pearl gave him a sheepish grin. "Well, maybe I will, then." She came over and poured herself a drink.
"I got to say," she said after the first long swallow. "You're a lot better than some folks. You don't mark the bottles."
Casey laughed. "I don't mark the bottles because I don't want you adding water to bring it back up to the line. I don't care if you drink as long as you get your work done."
This time she gave him an honest smile. Carrying his drink with him, Casey went into the bedroom. The beds were still unmade, which meant Pearl hadn't been in there yet.
He closed the bedroom door and undressed to go in and shower. When he came out again he finished the drink and paused to survey himself in the mirror on the back of the door.
The naked man who looked back at him was six-feet-two-inches tall, with wide sloping shoulders, a deep chest, and narrow hips. The dark hair was cut short, and the eyes were slate gray.
Casey pinched the roll of flesh at his waist and made a dissatisfied face. He would have to do something about it. Membership in an athletic dub would be worth the fee. Once you let yourself go too far it was tough getting back in shape.
Before Casey could turn around the door opened. Pearl was standing there with her arms full of vacuum cleaner and rags and clean sheets for the bed. Casey covered himself with his hand and turned quickly away. He grabbed his robe and slipped it on.
Behind him Pearl laughed. "I told you this morning you ain't got nothin' to be ashamed of. Fine lookin' man like you shouldn't hide what he's got."
Casey, embarrassed by her frankness, said nothing.
"I got to clean in here now," she said.
"All right, go ahead. I've got to make a phone call, anyway."
He left her in the bedroom and went to use the phone in the kitchen. He called the theater. Judy had just cone in, and they were about to go to work on one of the second-act scenes to sharpen it up. She couldn't talk.
He told her he'd pick her up at the theater at a quarter of twelve and hung up. He went into the living room, switched on the television set, and poured himself another drink.
He stared at the screen without really seeing it. The pictures in his mind were of a night scene in a garden and a beautiful woman in the throes of ecstasy. He emptied and refilled his glass twice.
Pearl came back into the living room and coughed to get his attention. He looked up at her.
"Mind if I take me another short one?"
"No. Go ahead. Help yourself."
As she crossed the room she looked at him, hesitated in mid-stride, then continued almost immediately. She poured herself a good three ounces of whisky and came toward him. She looked down into his lap and waved her hand at him.
"How'd you get that way?" she asked. Confused for a moment, Casey glanced down at his lap. Then he understood. His erotic thoughts had worked their magic upon his body and his robe had parted over his lap to reveal him in an excited condition.
He pulled the robe closed and it made a bulge in his lap. "I guess I was thinking about something," he said.
"I guess so," she answered. "What you going to do about it?"
"If I ignore it, it'll go away," he told her.
"That seem like a shame an' an awful waste," she said quickly.
He looked up and saw the expression on her face. And he thought suddenly about the two hookers in the hotel room. She was standing very close to the chair and her legs were trembling. Her glassy eyes stared at his lap, and her chest heaved with every breath.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Casey asked, fighting to keep his own excitement down. "Maybe it's just the liquor talking."
"I'm not drunk," she said. "And I know what I want. You a nice man. We could have us a little fun. I'm a woman needs a lot of lovin' and I don't hardly ever get enough."
She moved closer and reached out towards him, watching him out of the corner of her eye. When he made no protest her hand disturbed the front of his robe and closed about him.
He groaned softly and leaned back in his chair. His eyes squeezed shut, and he gave himself up entirely to the wonderful sensations coursing through his body.
Casey opened his eyes again when she released him and stepped back to put her drink down. "Why don't you take off your clothes?" he suggested in a suddenly hoarse voice.
She nodded. The cotton dress she wore had buttons down the front to the waist. One by one she opened those buttons. And Casey grew more excited as each button opened.
She shrugged out of the top of the dress and shoved it down over her hips to step out of it. Beneath the dress she was wearing only a plain white cotton bra and panties. She took the panties off first and smoothed her hand against her belly.
"Turn around!" he told her as she reached for the hooks of the bra.
She turned her back to him and walked backward toward the chair. He leaned forward and put his hands on her heavy naked buttocks and she stopped. Her flesh was smooth and hot and damp with sweat.
She was close enough so he could smell the heady musk of her perspiration. The scent filled his nostrils and made him dizzy with desire. She trembled from head to foot and moaned softly when he squeezed both cheeks.
After a long moment Casey reached up and unfastened her bra. She slipped the straps down off her shoulders and threw the bra to one side. He put his hands on her hips and drew her back closer.
"Sit down," he whispered hotly.
She sat down on his knees and slid her hot rump back along the tops of his thighs until she was resting against his belly. He reached both arms around her and filled his hands with her full, drooping breasts. The nipples were as hard and thick as twigs.
She slumped back against him, moaned deeply, and writhed slowly in his lap. He dropped one hand from her breast down the front of her body. His fingers spanned her lean flat belly and stroked her quivering thighs.
She moaned again and grasped both arms of the chair as hard as she could. Her legs fell limply apart and his hand had full access to her. He found her fully aroused.
She gasped when his finger sought the most intimate contact and her thighs closed about his hand once again. Her hips began to pump slowly and powerfully.
But they couldn't go on like that for very long.
"Come on," she said. "Come on. I got to have it.
Casey pushed himself out of the chair and took her in his arms.
The heat of her skin seared him and seeped deep into his body. She hugged herself tightly to him and pumped her hips against him. He dropped his hands from her back to her buttocks and pulled her loins tighter to him.
She gyrated wildly against him, her belly bumping his loins and his aroused masculinity.
"Let's go into the bedroom," he said.
"No. Right here. On the floor."
Her legs buckled beneath her, and he eased her down to the floor. Her arms opened wide to receive him. "Hurry!" she gasped, He hurried.
He knelt on the floor below her and eased himself to her. She stiffened with expectation at the first contact, and her legs went behind his back.
"Come on," she pleaded in a high-pitched whine. "Split me open. Gimme all you got."
Her harsh words were like a trigger. Casey fell down upon her and lunged with all his strength. She screamed with pleasure as he lunged.
"Oh, that's good," she said with a long, loud sigh.
His brain was sizzling in his skull, and he knew only pleasure as her muscles worked on him. "Come on," she urged. "Work. Work." He worked.
His back arched and his hips pumped. Again and again he slid to her. And she was not idle beneath him. She timed herself to his tempo, and their bellies met with the loud sweaty slap of flesh on flesh.
Letting her bear the full brunt of his weight, he moved his hands to grasp her soft breasts. She screamed when he squeezed. And she screamed again when he pinched the thick hard nipples.
When she reached her peak her legs squeezed him in a death grip and her back arched until their combined weight was supported only by her massive rump and the back of her neck.
But he was still not finished. He pounded away at her again and again and she began to rise toward a second peak. His hands left her breasts, slid down her sides, and slipped beneath the soft hot cushions of her rump.
He filled his hands with her buttocks and squeezed as he lunged to her. Suddenly the pleasure detonated deep inside his body. When she knew the extent of his love offering she reached her second climax.
When it was over he withdrew and rolled away from her. She sat up beside him, smiled, reached down to fondle his body and then kissed him appreciatively.
When she rose to get a damp washcloth for him she smiled again, looked down at him, and said, "Now I know you one of the best."
CHAPTER FIVE
Casey was astonished at the passion of the cleaning woman. Once begun, she refused to stop. It was nearly six o'clock before Pearl finally had enough to satisfy her.
After that first time they took cigarettes and drinks. Neither seemed hi any particular hurry to dress. After a short rest they became interested in one another all over again.
But this time they went into the bedroom. Pearl was completely uninhibited. No caress, no kiss, no touch was too intimate for her to give or to receive. Each time they came together they tried a new position. And each position was thoroughly satisfying.
At six o'clock, with much praise for Casey's vigor, Pearl finally admitted she'd had enough. While he went in to shower again she finished cleaning the bedroom.
And when he was finished in the bathroom she cleaned in there.
It was after seven before she left the apartment. What was most astonishing of all was her gratitude to Casey for the pleasure he'd given her. Never in his life had a woman thanked him so sincerely and so profusely for lovemaking.
Women usually accepted his efforts as part of their due. If any thanks were forthcoming Casey was expected to make them.
Casey shaved again, dressed in a dark, light-weight suit, and went out to get some dinner. He had Wiener-shnitzel and dark beer at the Steuben House in mid-town, then strolled along Broadway until he found a movie that seemed interesting.
The movie let out at eleven o'clock. Casey stopped for one drink, then headed for the theater. The old man let him in the stage door. The actors were still on stage. Casey stood in the wings and watched the last few minutes of the performance.
It was a good audience. They appreciated the production. The applause following the final curtain continued for nearly six minutes. And Judy got a special ovation when she took her solo curtain call.
It is always absolutely quiet backstage while a performance is in progress. And after the performance, except on closing night, there is usually complete bedlam. This night was no different.
The stage manager wag lecturing certain of the performers on late cues and mishandled props. The producer came back and talked to the stars. The playwright was there trying to get a date with one of the bit players. And soon people from the audience -- friends, V.I.P.'s -- began to fill the wings.
Casey found Judy in all that mob and confusion, and they went to her dressing room. Since she was not one of the leads she shared a dressing room with another actress -- Patty Taylor.
Patty was already in the dressing room, seated at one of the two make-up tables removing her make-up, when Casey and Judy came in.
"Hi, Casey."
"Hello, Patty."
"Did you see much of the show?"
"Only the last five minutes, or so."
"Then you were here for the curtain calls. Did you hear them cheer when Judy went out there?"
Casey grinned proudly. "I heard." He slipped his arm around his wife's waist and kissed her shoulder, avoiding the face with its thick, greasy make-up.
"There are some people who think she's stealing the show."
"I think so, too."
"Yeah, well our stars don't like the idea of our second woman getting so much applause. I overheard them talking about cutting down her part."
"What!" Judy said. "They can't. I won't let them."
"Honey," Patty said. "You won't have much to say about it."
"They can't cut my part. Ill quit, that's what I'll do."
"Take it easy, honey," Casey said. "Nobody's going to cut your part. The audiences like you and they're the ones who buy the tickets. The producers would have to be crazy to do something like that."
"Don't be so sure," Patty said. "This is a funny business. Crazier things than that have happened."
"Well, let's just forget about it, huh Patty?" Casey said. He could see Judy getting upset over the idea. Patty shrugged and shut her mouth. Judy sat down at the other make-up table and began to work on the grease paint. Casey sat in a corner on an old wooden kitchen chair and waited. Patty finished with her make-up, rose to remove her costume.
She completely ignored Casey's presence. Without the slightest hesitation or show of embarrassment, she stripped off her dress and quickly followed with bra, stockings, garter belt, and panties.
And when she was completely naked she seemed in no hurry to dress. Casey, familiar as he was with the ways of the theater, could never get used to this acceptance of nudity backstage.
He watched the slim, red-headed actress inspect her body in the mirror. Her breasts were large and round and milk-white. Without the support of a brassiere they sagged slightly beneath their own weight but they were not unattractive. Her flesh was very smooth and very clear. The large globular ends of her breasts were webbed with a network of fine blue veins. Her aureoles were small, surprisingly small for those big breasts. The nipples, stimulated by the flow of air over them, raised their sleepy little heads and slowly hardened.
Patty moved closer to the mirror and inspected a small bruise on the side of her left breast. She surveyed it critically and tested it with one finger.
"An over-anxious lover?" Casey asked.
"No such luck," she answered, giving him a wry grin in the mirror. "I banged myself against something yesterday."
The inspection of the breast completed, Patty now put her hands on her hips and turned from side to side. Casey was quite interested in her tear-shaped, under-slung buttocks. Unlike most women Patty's buttocks did not protrude to the rear. Instead they were tucked in under her hips.
In front her belly, dimpled by the navel, was slightly convex. When her feet were together her solid thighs pressed tightly to one another with no space between. And the lush arrowhead at her loins was almost the same shade as the hair on her head. Her legs and underarms were smoothly shaven.
Patty finished with her complete inspection and turned away from the mirror. She picked up a large towel and used it to wipe her underarms, breasts, and belly. She sprayed herself with deodorant and began to dress in her street clothes.
"You two going to the party?" she asked.
"What party?"
"I don't know the people, but they're friends of the producer. Dover is their name and I understand they're very rich. Shipping or something. The producer passed the word anybody wants to go is invited. The address is up on the call board."
"I don't know," Casey said. "We'll have to talk it over."
"Okay, if you decide to go, look for me. I love all the free food and booze at parties." Patty left them alone in the dressing room.
Judy finished removing her make-up, slipped out of her costume, and struck a naked and pretty pose for Casey.
"Well," she said. "How do I compare?"
"To whom?"
"Why, to that red-headed witch."
Casey shrugged. "I didn't notice," he said tactfully.
"Didn't notice? You were sitting there with your eyes bugging out all the time she was showing herself off."
"Oh, come on."
"I was watching you. I thought your eyes were going to fall right out of their sockets. And that witch was doing it on purpose. She didn't have to do that routine in front of the mirror."
"What do you want from me? She took her clothes off, and I looked at her. That's all there was to it."
Judy let her shoulders slump, came forward, and eased herself down onto Casey's lap. "I'm sorry," she said softly, looping her arm behind his neck and leaning forward to kiss him lightly on the mouth. "She burns me up. She only said that stuff about getting my part cut to get a rise out of me. But I wouldn't give her the satisfaction."
Casey stroked Judy's naked thigh and kissed the side of her neck. "Take it easy. You shouldn't let her get under your skin. Ignore her. And get this bouncy bottom of yours off my lap before I get turned on. We'll never get to that party."
"Oh, we're going then?"
"Sure. Why not? I told you I met the Dovers at that party on The Island the other night. But we won't stay too late."
"We'd better not stay too late. I don't want to go right to sleep when we get home."
"Oh, you've got something in mind for when we get home?"
"I sure have." And with that she ground her buttocks down into his lap. He could feel the smooth heat of them through the cloth of his trousers.
Before he became too interested, Casey pinched her sharply on the rump. Judy squealed with the pain and leaped from his lap. As she scampered across the room he reached out and smacked her once on the right buttock.
"What's that for?" she asked, pouting and rubbing her rump.
That's for being a shameless hussy," he told her, kiddingly.
She made a face at trim and began to dress. She slipped into a pair of sheer frilly black panties, then put her arms through the straps of her brassiere. She leaned forward to capture her breasts in the cups, then, holding the straps tight against her sides with her arms she came back to him and asked him to hook her up.
He was tempted to slip his arms around her and fill his hands with the live, hot nakedness of her breasts.
But he resisted the temptation. Instead, after hooking her bra, he kissed her softly in the middle of her spine.
She groaned deeply and bounced away from him. "Now you're the one who's trying to get something started," she complained.
"That's my privilege. I'm the husband."
"And I'm glad you are," she said gently, and with love. "But this is not the best place. There are no locks on the doors. What if someone came in while we were making love?"
Casey gave her a sly smile. "I'm sure whoever it was would wait until we'd finished and then applaud and yell for an encore."
"If we're that good maybe we ought to sell tickets and put on a show."
"An interesting idea. But the law, which I'm sworn to uphold and defend, frowns on things like that."
"The law's a party pooper. Takes all the fun out of life."
"We'll discuss the law some other time. Get dressed, will you?"
She pumped her hips lewdly at him and grinned. "What's the matter? Can't take it?"
He made as though to rise and smack her again. She gave a short scream and reached quickly for her dress.
Ben and Eileen Dover owned a fifteen-room apartment in an East Side cooperative building. Casey and Judy were both impressed by the place. They'd seen ads for similar apartments in the Sunday Times. The cost was usually something like two hundred thousand dollars to purchase and fifty or sixty thousand dollars a year as a maintenance fee. Dover Steamships was evidently very successful.
Standing outside the door of apartment 10-C they could hear no sounds at all. But when the maid opened the door music and laughter and the buzz of conversation spilled out into the corridor.
The maid -- a young, very light-skinned Negro girl with a heavy French accent -- admitted them and took their coats. The apartment was magnificent. The huge rooms were very tastefully decorated and the ceilings were a full fifteen feet in the air.
There were no formal introductions to be made. It wasn't that sort of party. Many of the people from the show were present, but there were others, too. Casey saw a couple of people he knew casually. There was a lady advertising executive, a widely known gossip columnist, and a famous musician.
They snared drinks from the tray of a passing waiter and set out in search of something to eat. In another room a buffet was spread. Casey and Judy filled plates, found a quiet corner, and ate.
When they finished they mingled. Judy became involved with a group discussing Hollywood versus Broadway. Casey left her and wandered off on his own.
He spotted Eileen Dover in conversation with another group of people and moved closer. The young man from the garden was beside her. Casey didn't join the group. He watched and he waited.
Eileen Dover wore a green silk cocktail dress that began very low on her ample bosom and ended several inches short of her knees in the current fashion. The dress was very tight across the hips, and Casey looked for a line in the cloth which would indicate a girdle or panties. He saw no such line and concluded she was bare beneath the dress.
After a few minutes one of the servants went to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and took her aside to whisper something in her ear. She turned back to her friends and excused herself for a moment.
Casey followed her to the kitchen door. She went inside, and he stationed himself outside. She came out again after a moment, and he moved to intercept her.
"Mrs. Dover, I'm Casey Tompkins. I was at the party out on Long Island."
She looked at him and frowned in concentration.
"Perhaps you don't remember me," he said. "I don't think we were introduced that night."
The frown left her face.
"My wife is Judy Tompkins."
"Oh, yes, the girl from the play."
Casey smiled again. "That's her. Anyway, I just wanted to say hello and tell you I enjoyed seeing you the other night."
She frowned again at this cryptic remark.
"Yes," Casey continued. "I enjoyed it very much. You see, I became very warm and went for a stroll in the garden."
She had to think a minute to understand. And when she understood she gave a quick start and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed or overheard. Her voice, when she spoke, was even and controlled.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Tompkins."
Casey grinned once again. "I always appreciate a good performance."
"So do I," she returned. "That wasn't one of the better ones."
Casey marveled at her self-assurance and control. He'd just confronted her with an intimate and dangerous piece of information, and she'd hardly turned a hair.
"Perhaps," Eileen Dover continued, "we could get together soon when it's not so hectic and discuss this further."
"I'd like that very much," Casey told her. "Whenever it's convenient for you."
"Phone me around noon tomorrow. We'll set something up. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have other guests."
With that she stepped around him and went back to her party. There was a hard knot of excitement in the pit of Casey's stomach and a feeling of admiration for the woman. He watched her for a moment or two more, then went to find his wife.
Judy was still talking with the same group of people. Casey drew her aside. "I've been thinking," he said. "Let's go home now."
Judy surreptitiously slid her hand against the front of his trousers and grinned. "I know what you've been thinking about."
He withdrew from the contact of her hand, took her wrist, and pulled her toward the front door. They got their coats, hurried down to the street, and waved down the first empty taxi that cruised by.
Once in the taxi Judy sat very close to him. She rubbed her leg against his and put her hand back in his lap. In retaliation he slipped his arm around her shoulder, reached under her arm, and cupped her breast.
By the time they reached their apartment they were both pretty well worked up. In the elevator he pushed her back against the wall, flattened himself against her, and kissed her soundly. She pumped her hips against the front of his body, writhed in his embrace, and twined her tongue about his own.
His hand shook with anticipation when he put the key in the door-lock. Once inside they removed their coats and hurried to the bedroom. They undressed quickly and leaped into bed.
Casey reached for the switch on the bedside lamp.
"No," Judy said softly. "Leave it on tonight."
He turned back to her, took her in his arms, and squeezed the whole hot naked length of her against himself. She put her cheek against his, breathed softly into his ear, and nibbled gently on the lobe.
Casey could feel her hard nipples poking into his chest, and he could feel her belly fluttering against his loins. She threw one bare leg over his hip and pulled herself even closer.
He held her tightly and stroked her back from shoulder to rump, letting his fingers stray lightly across her buttock and into the deep crevice. She cried out softly and quivered from head to toe.
"Oh, God, Casey," she breathed. "I started feeling like this when I saw the way you looked at that witch in the dressing room. I don't know why, but seeing you look at her naked body got me all excited."
Casey laughed from deep in his chest. "I know what to do about that," he said.
"Oh, yes, darling. Do it. Do everything."
He rolled her onto her back, cupped one hot breast, and dropped his mouth to the other. She took advantage of the distance now between their bodies to reach down and take him in her hand.
He held one of her nipples firmly between his lips and bathed it with his tongue. She gave a shuddering sigh and twined the fingers of her other hand in his hair.
"That's good, darling," she murmured. "So good."
He let her feel the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive bud and was rewarded with the sharp hiss of her sudden inhalation. Then he transferred his attention to the other breast.
"Oh, honey, honey," she sighed. "They're so sensitive. I can feel your lips so hot and wet. And your tongue is so wonderfully rough. Harder, darling. Harder."
He did as she asked and at the same time let one of his hands sweep down the front of her body. She hollowed her belly when he poked the tip of one finger into the depression of her navel. His fingers stroked her and her quivering thighs spread slowly apart.
Now he reached lower. His hand caressed the damp inner surfaces of her thighs. She released him and reached her hand down to his to guide it to her most sensitive secrets. Like a flower to the rays of the morning sun her lips parted in a sigh.
In surprisingly short order she was completely ready.
But Casey wanted to give her more. He wanted her aroused as she'd never been before. He wanted her to beg and scream for release.
His lips fluttered down into the deep valley between her breasts. Her back arched and her hand in his hair pulled hard as the sensations exploded in her body.
His fluttering lips and dancing tongue worked their way down the front of her body. He kissed each of her ribs, going down one side, then down the other. He covered her heavy belly with quick fluttering kisses.
She was sighing and groaning now with every tortured breath. When he glanced up at her face he saw that her head was jammed deep into the pillow and her eyes were half rolled back in their sockets. The pink tip of her tongue flicked between her open lips like a snake rising to the sound of the flute.
From her heaving, quivering belly his lips glided out onto the smooth surface of one leg. The heavy muscle of her thigh was tightly clenched.
He kissed all the way down to her knee, then let his lips work their way up the trembling inner surface. He repeated the action on the other leg. Her hips were rolling and pumping and with her hand she was trying to force him toward her mystery.
But he resisted the pressure of her hand, rose to his knees, and rolled her over onto her stomach. Once again he leaned over her. His lips pressed firmly against the nape of her neck, then worked themselves down the ridged line of her spinal cord.
He kissed all the way down to the beginning of the forbidden crevice between her buttocks.
"Yessss!" she hissed. "Yes, yes, yes."
He palmed the cheeks of her rump and squeezed until his fingers sank deep into her softness there. He pried the cheeks apart, pushed them firmly together.
He moved his hands and let his lips cover those quivering roundnesses. He kissed down the backs of both thighs to the hollows behind the knees.
And then he could hold himself back no longer. He let her roll onto her back once again, grabbed a pillow in one hand, and lifted both her legs with the other.
He raised her legs until her rump came up off the bed, then jammed the pillow beneath her hips. Her long white legs went high in the air, kicking and shaking with anticipated ecstasy.
When he knelt below her she reached down, caught him and guided him. He pressed against her and took her with one smooth plunging of his hips.
She locked her arms and legs about him, preventing any movement. "Wait," she cried softly. "Don't move. Just let me feel you like this for a while. Oh, Casey, I love you so much."
"I love you, too," he answered.
"Darling, you're so good, so wonderful. Now, darling, now. Give me everything."
Casey withdrew and lunged, withdrew and lunged. After only four or five strokes he could feel all the muscles in her body begin to clench with the approach of her first spasm of completion.
The magic muscles of her mystery gripped rhythmically in wave-like contractions. His own excitement was much too high. He slowed his pace, stopped for a moment, then began again. This time he moved as slowly as possible, drawing out the strokes to their fullest.
Three of those agonizing strokes was all she could take. Her body began to buck and heave. Her nails sank into his hide and her teeth clamped onto the flesh of his shoulder.
He stopped moving and held on to her until her first peak had passed, then he began to move once again. She was limp and boneless beneath him at first, but very soon she began to rise toward her second completion.
And finally Casey lost his own control. A red haze of pleasure enveloped his brain. His body burned and tingled from head to toe. With the strength and vigor of a stallion he pounded himself against her.
Judy moved with him, encouraging him with caressing hands and hotly whispered words. "Yes, darling. Go, darling. Finish, darling."
And he did.
With one final surge he slipped over the precipice into oblivion, only faintly aware of her final pleasure.
CHAPTER SIX
Casey slept like a log. When he awakened bright fingers of daylight were reaching in around the edges of the bedroom Venetian blind. His first sensation upon awakening was one of smooth damp warmth against his loins, of the presence of Judy snuggled tight against him.
A deep lazy pleasure filled his being. As much as he enjoyed making love to other women there was still no one like Judy. The sensations of the act were pretty much the same with her as with the others. It was the aftermath that was different. With other women there was no fond glow of after pleasure. With other women all pleasure was in the act itself; and when that act was completed, there was nothing left.
With Judy it was almost as though the aftermath was more important than the act itself. With Judy he gave pleasure; and he took pride and fulfillment in the giving. With other women Casey took pleasure. Oh, sure, he always gave a good performance. He always made sure his casual lovers were satisfied. But it was more a matter of personal pride than anything else. Making other women happy fulfilled his ego. By taking them he was asserting his masculinity. But by giving Judy pleasure he was fulfilling his entire being.
The difference, he supposed, was love.
Casey felt a deep stirring as his body responded to the presence and warmth of Judy. She was deep asleep and snoring softly. Very lightly he pulled down the blanket that covered them both.
God, she was beautiful! The sweeping curves and sculptured lines of her body were finer than those of any statue in any museum. And the clear firmness of her white healthy flesh was superior to the purest marble. The finest artist of all time could never create such beauty as she from inanimate material. No reproduction could approach the perfection of her living beauty.
Casey put his hand on the high sweeping curve of her hip and let it rest lightly there. His palm drank up the warmth of her sleeping body. She was not disturbed.
Very lightly he trailed his fingertips down the side of her thigh and up again. His excitement was growing. The tip of his index finger found and explored the dimple in the hollow of her haunch.
She stirred in her sleep, but did not awaken.
He palmed the upper cheek and lifted it slightly away from its mate for a moment while he eased his now excited body to her. When he released the buttock he was completely enfolded in smooth heat.
Casey was fitted very closely to the curve of her back as he lay on his hip behind her. His hand reached over her shoulder and found one firm melon-like breast.
She slept on but her body began to respond to his feather-light caresses. Her nipple hardened. He took it gently between thumb and forefinger and rolled it back and forth.
She sighed deeply and stirred once. The pitch of her soft snoring changed slightly, but he was sure she was still asleep. A grin of pleasure spread over Casey's face. If he was very careful, she would not awaken until she was inextricably caught in the web of full-blown desire.
His hand traveled lightly down the front of her body. The pads of his fingertips brushed ever so lightly over her flesh -- across the bowl of her belly, along the fronts of her thighs.
When his fingers neared the core of her being her hips moved back slightly against him. It was purely reflex. And it was wonderful.
He continued to stroke her. Soon her muscles were working involuntarily and her hips were pumping in an almost imperceptible rhythm. She became even more excited and the strong muscles of her buttocks clenched tightly, gripping him firmly.
His pleasure rose more quickly, became more demanding. It was now a struggle to retain full and complete control.
Judy moaned softly, then her entire body stiffened as she came awake. It took only a moment for her to collect her wits and understand what was happening. Then her body relaxed again and she gave a sleepy giggle.
"Casey, you dirty rat!"
"What's the matter, honey, don't you like it?"
"Ooooh, I love it. But I didn't know what was happening. Let me turn over."
He pulled back from her. She turned completely around to he on her other hip and face him. Their eyes met and held for a moment, then they kissed. Her breasts mashed flat against his chest, and he could feel the stiff nipples against him.
Her hand reached down to grip him and his hand reached for her. Her eyes seemed to glaze over at his touch and a shudder of joy ran through her body.
His clever fingers made the final preparations. When she was ready Judy rolled onto her back and lifted her legs high in the air. Casey moved to her and took her quickly. As always there was that wonderful resistance. And Casey preferred it that way.
"Ohhh!" she groaned, locking her legs about his hips.
He eased his weight full down upon her; felt himself rise and fall with her every deep breath. His hands slipped down her sides and went beneath her spread buttocks. He palmed those straining globes, squeezing and kneading.
Judy closed her eyes. Her head reached up and her lips claimed his mouth. Their tongues battled furiously while their bodies remained perfectly still.
With a gasp of desire she tore her mouth from his. "A little bit," she cried softly. "Give me just a little bit. Fast, darling."
Casey's hips reared back until there was only the briefest contact between them. Then he began to move very rapidly but only a fraction of an inch in each direction.
Judy rolled and pumped her hips beneath him. Her head tossed from side to side. And when the pleasure grew unbearable, she bit sharply at the lobe of his ear.
He plunged to her once again. Varying his tactic he now moved very, very slowly, but he used himself to the fullest. His strokes plunged deep, deep, deep, filling her completely.
In his gripping hands he felt the massive muscles of her buttocks slowly clench. Tighter and tighter those globes drew together. The muscles in her thighs grew taut and her hips lifted right up off the mattress.
Casey balanced precariously on her raised body. Her legs were unlocked from about his hips, and she was supported only by her feet and the backs of her shoulders.
A groan, then a whimper. Her hands became claws and her nails pricked his hide and her teeth scraped his shoulder.
"Now!" she shouted, suddenly. "Now, darling. Now!"
Casey let his control slip. With a grunt he pounded himself against her. She welcomed the fury of his attack, and met his stroke for stroke. When his hips lunged to her and down, she pumped upward to meet him. Their bellies smacked together. The masses of her breasts shifted and yielded beneath his chest.
The muscles in her belly and buttocks and thighs were now clenching rapidly and spasmodically. She no longer had any control over her body. Her eyeballs were rolled back in their sockets and saliva drooled from the corners of her mouth to be whipped about in a fine spray with every violent toss of her head.
Casey felt himself borne up on a swift and mighty wave which was rushing toward some distant and unseen shore. Faster and faster the wave rolled over the surface of the ocean. Higher and higher it mounted over the sea.
Casey was tossed by the power and violence of that wave. He could feel the salt spray stinging his flesh as he fought to keep his head above water, to keep from drowning.
Suddenly there was land in sight and he felt himself being hurled toward it The wave began to crest. And then he was right at the forward tip of the white-spumed wave, thirty or forty feet above the hard-packed sand of tropical beach.
In another moment, he knew, he would be smashed against that beach and inundated beneath tons of water.
The wave seemed to reach even higher for a moment, then hurl him downward with incredible force. He shouted with fear and expectation. The impact forced all the breath from him and there was not time to draw another before the wave fell upon him.
Lungs screaming for air, he battled with his last remaining strength to reach the surface. He could feel the outgoing wave trying to draw him back into the sea and to his death.
But his struggles were successful. His head broke water and he gasped for a breath. All his senses were distorted. He knew only that he was still alive.
And then the awesome power of the tidal wave was gone and he was floating gently on the surface of the sea. The water was warm and comfortable, and he was filled with a lazy peace such as he'd never known.
He was lying beside Judy. Her body was spread-eagled limply. Her eyes were closed and she was still gasping for breath. When she'd recovered she rolled to him and tucked her face into the hollow of his neck and shoulder.
"Darling," she whispered. "That was glorious." He held her in his arms until it became evident that neither of them were going back to sleep. Finally, she slipped from his embrace and went into the bathroom for her morning shower.
Casey rose a moment or two later. He followed her into the bathroom and shaved while she showered. When she was finished he took his shower. The bedroom was empty when he went in to dress. And when he reached the kitchen he found her in a robe standing before the stove.
"Sit down and drink your juice, darling. Your breakfast will be ready in a minute or two."
Casey took his place at the table. Beside his waiting coffee cup was the morning newspaper. Judy did not usually cook his breakfast on a weekday morning and he was pleasantly surprised. He could smell the bacon frying and hear the eggs sizzling in the pan. "What's all this?" he asked.
"You were so wonderful I wanted to do something special for you. Besides, I want to make sure you eat enough to keep up your strength."
Casey grinned at her back and reached across to smack her playfully on the rump. The smack set her buttocks to jiggling and shaking beneath her robe. "Good girl," he said.
He drank his juice and opened the newspaper. It was full of the usual reports of crimes and accidents and rapes. There were several items concerning the crackdown on dope distribution. And there'd been four separate holdups in the last twenty-four hours. Three people had been murdered. There'd been two separate burglaries. A woman in an uptown subway station had been thoroughly raped at two in the morning. And on a Village sidestreet a man had been found who'd been severely beaten and mutilated.
All in all it seemed a normal day.
Casey had his breakfast, an extra cup of coffee, and left for the office. His answering service reported three calls that morning. Only one caller had left a number. He called back.
The phone rang three times before it was picked up at the other end.
"Hello," said an unfamiliar voice.
"Hello. My name is Casey Tompkins. I got a call from you earlier this morning."
"Oh. Yeah. You're the lawyer."
"That's right."
"Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Tompkins. My son was in an automobile accident last night and we picked your name out of the book."
"What can I do for you?"
"Well, nothin', I'm afraid. You see, when you weren't there we picked another number. We've already got a lawyer now. I'm sorry."
"So am I," Casey said as he hung up.
It was a bad break. Accident cases were precisely what a young lawyer needed to get himself established. The money was usually pretty good. In New York State a lawyer is entitled to up to one third of the settlement or judgment. And the work involved was really very limited.
It was unusual, however, to pick up an accident case through the telephone listing. Most times lawyers were referred to cases like that. A relative or friend has had some dealings of one sort or another with a lawyer, and, hearing of the accident, he recommended the lawyer. Once a lawyer wins a few decent judgments he begins to build a reputation. And after that it's all gravy. The cases pile up and the money rolls in.
Casey leaned back in his desk chair and shook his head slowly and sadly. It was beginning to look like he was going to need a full-time secretary. A secretary would have been able to get the pertinent information and get him right onto the case.
But secretaries were a little expensive and unless his practice picked up almost immediately it would put a severe drain on his resources. The investments he'd inherited paid him nearly ten thousand a year. That was just enough to meet his expenses, both business and personal. Without Judy's income they would have to live very frugally, indeed.
Still, the play was a hit. They could count on her income for at least another year. And if he hadn't established a good law practice in a year Casey knew he would never get one established. By working very carefully he might be able to afford a secretary without breaking into the capital of the investment.
It was worth a try. At least he could interview some girls and see how much it would have to cost him.
He got out the telephone book and noted the phone numbers of several employment agencies. Then spent a half hour on the phone arranging to have applicants sent by late that afternoon.
When he finished with the employment agency Casey noticed it was nearly noon. He remembered he'd promised to call Eileen Dover at noon. The mere thought of the icily aloof society woman filled him with tingling anticipation.
He got out the telephone book again but could not find a listing for either Ben or Eileen Dover at the uptown address. And when he tried the information operator she informed him the number was unlisted.
Casey had only one other lead to the woman. He quickly dialed Jack Hass' office number. But Jack was already out to lunch and would not be back until after two o'clock.
Casey was getting desperate. He pulled out his address book and found Jack's home number. The phone rang twice before Arlene answered.
"Arlene? Casey Tompkins. Did I wake you up?"
"Yes. What time is it?"
"Twelve o'clock. I'm sorry I woke you, but I need a favor. I called Jack at the office but he wasn't there."
"That's all right. It's time I got up anyway." Her voice had a deep rich sensuality. Casey pictured her lying in a rumpled bed in a dimly lit bedroom. Her red hair mussed. Her face streaked with sleep. That marvelous body displayed.
He tried to imagine what she would look like in the nude-- that shocking patch of red at the juncture of her slim thighs, the milk-white flesh, perhaps a freckle here or there, the lean willowy body. "What was the favor?" Arlene asked. "I need Eileen Dover's phone number. It's not in the book and the operator says it's unlisted."
"Casey, you're not letting yourself get caught in that bear trap, are you?"
He forced a laugh. "It's nothing like that. This is business. Judy and I were at a party at her house just last night and she asked me to call her today at noon. But she didn't give me the number."
Arlene laughed, too. "A likely story. Eileen has only one kind of business with handsome young men. You know, I think I'm a little jealous. After that business in the car the other night I should think you'd be more interested in me than in her."
Casey had almost forgotten the incident in the car. "I thought you were asleep."
"That's what I wanted you to think. It was fun teasing you like that, Casey. For a whale there I thought you might explode."
"Hey, you'd better be careful, Arlene. This is old Casey, remember? Not some casual friend. And besides, I know you too well. You're all tease and hot air. A big come on and no finish."
"How would you know? You've never tried. And I've given you plenty of opportunity."
"Sorry, baby. Jack and I go too far back. I wouldn't pull something like this on him. Now, if you weren't married to Jack I'd be breaking down your door."
"Thanks, sweetie. For a minute there I was afraid you didn't find me attractive."
"You know better than that. Now how about giving me that phone number?"
"In a minute. Would you be more interested if I told you Jack wouldn't mind?"
"That would be a little hard to believe," Casey told her. "But well have to talk about it some other time. Right now I need that phone number."
"Only if you promise we'll talk about this again."
"I promise."
"All right, lover, hold on a minute."
He heard her put the phone down, and then he heard the riffling of pages of what he supposed was an address book. When she got back on she gave him the number. He thanked her and bung up.
It was several minutes before he could bring himself to dial the number she'd given him. Arlene had been quite Hunt about her interest in him. And some of the things she'd said about Jack were very puzzling. He promised himself he would look into that situation very soon.
He dialed Eileen Dover's number and held his breath until she answered.
"Hello." Her voice sent chills down his spine.
"Hi. This is Casey Tompkins. Last night you said to call you about noon."
"Oh, yes. You're the young man who... "
"That's me," he interrupted.
"I don't know why you spoke to me last night or what you hope to gain with your information. But this is not something I'd want to talk about over the telephone."
"Perhaps we could meet somewhere for lunch," Casey suggested, his heart high in his chest.
"No. In public we would not be able to talk about anything. Could you come over here."
"To your apartment? Yes, of course."
"I'm free most of the afternoon," she told him.
"I could be there in fifteen minutes," he said.
His eagerness brought a quick bark of laughter from her. "All right, Mr. Tompkins, III be expecting you."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The doorman was polite. He asked casey who he wanted to see, then used the house phone to see if Casey was expected. He even accompanied Casey to the elevator and told the elevator operator both the floor and the apartment number.
When Casey got off the elevator the operator waited and watched until he'd been admitted to the apartment. For the kind of money those people were paying every month they were entitled to some sort of security.
The same dark maid with the French accent admitted Casey. She was in a different uniform today and as he followed her through the apartment Casey ran his eyes over her.
Her costume consisted of little more than a knee-length smock of some serviceable green material. But in front the top three buttons were opened and the slopes of her brown young breasts were visible. She wore no stockings but Casey could hear the velvet whisper of the inner sides of her full and rounded thighs rubbing together with every stride. And there was a saucy sway to her projecting rump that was most attractive.
There was something special about her carriage and expression that indicated she was fully aware of her attractions. She knew Casey was looking at her and she liked it.
The maid let Casey out onto a wide, stone-floored terrace. In the center of the terrace there was a small round table with a beach umbrella opened above it Eileen Dover, in dark sunglasses and a thick white terry-cloth robe, sat under the umbrella. She greeted Casey with a brief smile and waved him to a seat "Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
She turned to the maid. "Another cup and saucer, Renee."
The girl nodded and hurried off. Casey looked at Eileen Dover and said nothing. He could not see her eyes through the dark glasses and her body was completely concealed by the heavy robe.
The woman didn't speak, either. She seemed content to wait for him to make the first move. The maid returned with a cup and saucer and spoon, poured coffee for Casey, and set the steaming cup before him.
"Thank you," he said.
She gave him a brief smile and withdrew.
Casey added a spoon of sugar and a dollop of heavy sweet cream. He stirred the coffee with the silver spoon, set the spoon to one side, and took a sip. The coffee was excellent.
The silence was growing awkward and heavy. Casey began to feel very foolish.
"I don't know what to say," he said finally.
"You had plenty to say last night. You must have had something in mind."
He shook his head. "It was purely an impulse. Ever since that night out on Long Island I haven't been able to get you out of my mind."
The woman gave a short brittle laugh. "I see. Then you didn't come here to blackmail me?"
"Good Lord no! Nothing like that."
The air between them underwent a subtle shift. Now, for the first time, she flashed a warm and sincere smile. "Tell me, Mr. Tompkins... "
"Please, make it Casey."
"Casey, then, how is it we've never met before?"
"The other night was the first time I've ever been to one of those parties."
"Did you crash, or were you invited?"
"I was invited. I went with Jack and Arlene Hass."
She nodded.
"Jack and I were in law school together. Uh, I was there on a scholarship."
"Why did you follow me out into the garden?"
"I didn't follow you." Casey grinned. "Not that I wouldn't have if I'd seen you earlier. But, in this case, I was there first The party was dull and it was quite warm, and I was drinking too much too quickly. I went for a quiet stroll. I heard you and your... ah, friend, approaching and hid behind a bush."
"And you watched."
"And I watched."
She was toying with him. He was completely on the defensive.
"Did you enjoy watching?" To this he could only nod.
"You don't seem very naive. I'm sure it was nothing new to you."
"No," he said. "I found it quite... stimulating." She smiled again.
"And then, when I went back to the party I found out who you were."
"Now we both know. But you still haven't told me why you found it necessary to reveal that you'd spied upon me."
Casey considered it for a moment. "I suppose," he said slowly, "There might have been other ways we could have become acquainted. But this seemed the quickest."
"Do you find me attractive?"
"Very much so."
"And so you thought by revealing yourself you might become my lover?"
"Yes, I suppose that's it. It wasn't very smart or subtle, I admit. But you're a very confusing woman."
She laughed gaily. "I find this very refreshing," she told him. "Most of the people I know are not this direct Can you give me one reason why I should allow you to make love to me?"
"I'm not exactly ugly," he told her. "And while I don't want to brag I've never had any complaints from women. I think we could be very good together."
"What about your wife?"
"What about your husband?"
"Just like a lawyer. Answer a question with another question. My relationship with my husband need not concern you. The other young man likes intrigue so I let him think my husband is unaware of my activities. If he knew the truth he would not be able to function as a lover. The mystery adds just the necessary touch of excitement."
Casey said nothing. This was, without a doubt, the craziest conversation he'd ever heard. With complete frankness and a tone almost of boredom the woman was discussing with him some very intimate subjects.
"You have yet to present one good argument in your cause, Casey."
He gave a short hopeless sigh. "I don't know what more I can tell you. Really, there isn't much more. Except that I'm sure I'm better than that kid in the garden."
"Very probably. His attraction was only his eager youthfulness. Stand up, Casey!"
"What?"
"Stand up, stand up." She waved with her hand.
His brow furrowed with puzzlement, he rose to his feet. She leaned back in her chair, a cigarette in her right hand, and let her eyes explore him.
"Open your clothing," she told him.
"What?"
"Please, you're not hard of hearing. I want to see your body."
Casey glanced about. They were out in the open. More than a hundred windows looked out onto the terrace. And, if that wasn't enough, the maid stood just inside the doors waiting to be called.
"Not out here," he said, almost pleading.
"I don't like men with inhibitions," Eileen said calmly.
"But your maid is standing right there watching us."
"Is she? Very good. Renee!"
The maid hurried forward and Casey felt stupid standing there with his arms dangling at his sides. His legs and spine were very stiff and his posture was terrible.
Eileen snarled something to the girl in rapid-fire French; The girl looked at Casey, smiled, and answered her mistress. Eileen spoke again -- one short phrase.
The maid, grinning, approached Casey. He fought the urge to back away. Standing a little to one side so as not to obstruct her mistress' view, the girl reached for Casey's zipper.
She murmured something soothing in French to him and opened his belt. He was highly excited and she seemed pleased.
The caress of her warm brown hand was agonizing. She examined him and spoke to her mistress. After a moment Eileen rose from her chair and came forward for a closer look for herself. She removed her dark glasses and he could see the glaze of lust in her eyes.
The two women exchanged comments and laughed. Casey felt like a side of beef hanging in a butcher shop window. Eileen reached out, touched with her hand, and nodded to the girl. They both laughed again.
The mistress straightened and looked into Casey's eyes. "I don't know why you were so reticent," she said. "You should be proud."
Casey pushed the maid's hand away, adjusted himself, and zipped up his trousers. "I've had just about enough of this," he said. "I didn't come here to put on an exhibition for you."
"But it's only fair," Eileen retorted. "I put on an exhibition for you."
"That was different."
"This will be different, too. Let's go inside."
The maid led the way, with Casey and Eileen side by side a step or two behind her. Anticipation began to grow in Casey's gut, and it blossomed to full excitement when the maid led them into a large dim bedroom.
The bed was huge -- at least eight feet square. And it had an immense and intricate canopy over it. Casey stopped just inside the door. Eileen brushed past him and followed the maid to the bed. The colored girl turned down the spread, folding it neatly across the foot of the bed.
The mistress, her back still toward Casey, deposited her sunglasses on the night stand, kicked out of her slippers, and shrugged out of her robe.
Casey had only a quick glimpse of her as she slipped into bed and pulled the sheet up to her waist. Her breasts were shaped like tear drops and the nipples were inflamed.
"Come over here," Eileen said in a sultry voice, patting the bed beside her. "You can't have any fun all the way over there."
As he crossed the room Casey opened his tie and slipped out of his jacket. The maid, Renee, took the jacket from him as he sat down beside Eileen. He tried to kiss the mistress but she twisted her head to avoid his lips. He turned his face slightly and pressed his lips against the warm smoothness of one shoulder. At the same time one of his hands sought and found one of her breasts.
That breast was soft and heavy. The rigid nipple scraped his palm. Eileen put her hand on top of his head and shoved downward. She eased up on the pressure when his lips were in line with her bosom.
He kissed where she wanted to be kissed. A long low sighing moan escaped her lips. He let her feel the dance of his tongue and the scrape of his teeth and she liked all of it.
Casey felt Renee's hands on him and didn't think twice about it. It was quite evident from what had already gone on that the colored girl was a willing participant in her mistress' sex life. He continued to kiss Eileen's breasts while Renee removed his shoes and socks, pulled his trousers and shorts down and off, then went to work on his shirt.
By the time Renee had him completely naked Casey was in a fever of desire. She continued to stroke and caress his bare flesh while he addressed himself to her mistress.
Suddenly he stiffened and gasped. Renee's hot wet mouth had closed firmly about him. He gave a sharp cry of passionate surprise as the liquid sensations coursed through him.
With every passing moment it became more and more difficult for him to concentrate on Eileen. He could not ignore the wonderful giving of that mouth and those hands.
The roaring flames of passion numbed his senses. He became less and less aware of peripheral happenings. Renee's greedy act loomed larger and larger.
He felt Eileen slip out from beneath him. Then two pairs of hands were rolling him onto his back. He felt like a helpless whale beached by a thrashing surf -- a great monster with two tiny creatures nipping at him.
On his back, arms and legs spread-eagled, he opened his eyes for a moment and stared straight up. It took several seconds for him to understand what he saw.
The underside of the bed canopy was one tremendous mirror. He could see himself up there, and he could see the two women. While he watched in the mirror he saw the dark woman disengage herself for a moment to strip away her clothes. The white woman substituted for her.
Completely naked, the colored girl returned. Now the mistress withdrew, moving to a far corner of the bed, there to sit and stare with lustful eyes.
Renee knelt beside Casey's shoulder. Her hand reached down the length of his active body to grip him. But the hand was not good enough. He wanted the mouth again.
Holding him and manipulating him, Renee leaned forward so her breasts, black and hard with rock-like nipples, dangled down to his face. He accepted one of the offered fruits and was surprised that the servant girl's body should have an entirely different -- almost more desirable -- flavor.
He felt her shiver at the first touch of his mouth. One nipple was drawn deep between his lips and he bathed it feverishly with his tongue. Her shoulders shifted and the other breast was presented to his face. He kissed that one, too.
Then the nipple was dragged from between his lips as her hips rose in the air and she moved down the length of his body. Her breasts scraped across his chest and moved toward his belly while new and succulent areas were presented to his lips.
He claimed her navel, encircling it and driving deep into it with his tongue. In reflex her belly hollowed and he lifted his head from the pillow to maintain the contact.
Suddenly Casey had had enough of this sort of thing. He had not come here hoping to make love to the servant girl. It was the mistress he wanted. He rolled his head to one side and looked past his own legs toward Eileen.
"Come on," he whispered hotly. "How much of this do you think I can take? I want you. Now."
She answered with a smile and a shake of her head. "Not today, darling. I put on a show for you the other night and now you're going to do the same for me. If I like the way you handle yourself, you'll get your chance with me."
Casey was of a mind to argue. But quick shifting by Renee changed his mind for him. She leaned further down the length of him and he felt her hot breath fan his excited flesh. Then her firm lips were pressed against him.
His hips pumped convulsively lifting and seeking the magnificence he knew awaited him. His eyes squeezed shut and skyrockets went off inside his skull. Multi-colored lights flickered behind 'his closed eyelids.
, Her tongue struck snake-like and her lips captured him. He was in a prison from which he never wanted to escape. His body writhed and his cheek brushed the side of Renee's leg.
His hands reached and found the black velvet of her hips and thighs. He stroked her and urged her to change her position. She understood and complied quickly and eagerly. She lifted one bent leg and placed it on the other side of his head.
Now, for only a moment, he opened his eyes once again. She was directly above him and coming down quickly. He closed his eyes once again.
His hands filled with the ripe contours of her silken rump. His cheeks were caressed by the trembling sweetness of her thighs. Her breasts drilled holes in his belly. Her mouth, like a blast furnace, fed the mounting heat of Ms passion.
He kissed her as she was kissing him, and he heard her muffled cry of delight. Her hips circled and snapped. Her body worked cruelly against his kissing lips and driving tongue.
Somewhere deep inside him a little man pounded a great bass drum. He could feel the echo of every beat throbbing through every part of his being. And each succeeding beat was stronger than the one preceding. His brain seemed to shrivel to much in his skull and his heart raced like a triphammer.
The sweet anguish of completion burst upon him without warning. He cried out his joy but the sounds he made were muffled by Renee's body. She knew his final joy and continued her caress for long moments.
And he continued his caress, too, for the colored girl had not yet reached her peak. Her hips rolled and circled harder and harder, faster and faster. Finally her body stiffened and a series of convulsive shudders shook her to the very core of her being.
She cried out in a kind of pleasure-pain and rolled away from him. After several moments Casey opened Ms eyes. The tableau was clearly reflected in the mirror above the bed.
He was on Ms back, arms and legs spread-eagled limply, face and body shiny with sweat Beside him, also on her back, but with her head down about his knees, lay Renee. She, too, was limp with exhaustion. Her black naked breasts bobbled with her rapid and shallow breathing. Her smooth tummy fluttered. And the heavy muscles in her belly and thighs twitched with occasional uncontrollable spasms.
It had been a wild ride on a Roman candle. The final detonations had been deep and severe. Eileen Dover remained curled in the corner of the big bed. Her eyes were shining with joy. Both her hands were clutched tightly between her legs. A happy smile spread her lips and showed her white teeth.
Finally, with a groan, Casey pulled himself to a sitting position. Renee, too, sat up. She smiled at him and reached out one hand briefly to touch his cheek in a silent gesture of gratitude.
"Well," Casey said to Eileen. "Did I pass the test?"
Before she answered the mistress looked at her servant for approval. Renee nodded quickly and eagerly. "Yes, ma'am. This one is good. Don't let him get away. He really knows how."
Eileen looked back at Casey. Without a word she rolled onto her back, lifted her legs high in the air, and spread them wide apart.
"You passed," she said in a husky tone. "Now come here and get your diploma!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Almost two weeks passed after that incandescent afternoon with Eileen Dover and her maid. During those two weeks Casey phoned Eileen several times. But she was very busy and neither of them could arrange a satisfactory appointment.
Judy was in a foul mood almost all the time. Backstage politics had her nerves shredded. Casey didn't understand how she could continue to work under that sort of pressure. He picked her up at the theater every night after the performance and they went directly home.
Casey was pretty busy, too. After three days of interviewing he'd managed to get himself a secretary. And he'd picked up two cases, both lawsuits. One was an accident case and the other was a suit by a homeowner against the building contractor. He was a little m rusty in those areas and spent many of his evenings poring over the law books.
The secretary, Margaret Broom, was working out quite well. She'd been about the twentieth girl he'd interviewed, and at first glance he hadn't been very impressed.
Maggie, they were already on a first-name basis, was a slender five-feet-five inches tall. She had a good figure under her light-weight suit, but nothing spectacular. And her face was very plain. She was neither attractive nor repulsive. She wore glasses and had large teeth in a wide mouth.
At the beginning of the interview she'd been quietly self-assured. She gave her age as twenty-five, but Casey felt sure she was closer to thirty. She had a good secretarial background and good references. Though she'd never worked for a lawyer before she was well enough acquainted with legal terminology so that she would be able to learn what she had to know very quickly. She was a good typist and took excellent shorthand.
After discussing her qualifications they got down to the important things.
"Why did you leave your last job?" he'd asked.
"To be perfectly frank, Mr. Tompkins, I was bored. The salary was good, but I couldn't stand the dull routine of the job. It was a big company and there just wasn't enough to do that was interesting. I got tired of taking the same dictation and typing the same letters day after day."
"Well, you certainly won't find that sort of thing here," Casey told her. "I expect that once you get to know the ropes you'll become quite involved with some of the cases. But I have to tell you right now that most of my practice is criminal law. You're liable to meet some very unsavory characters."
She smiled at him. "That should make it even more interesting."
"Let me put it this way. If you get the job you'll be a lot more than merely a secretary. You'll be more like a second right hand to me."
"That's the kind of job I want."
"I'm just starting out here so the pay won't be much at first. And you may be working some very odd hours. What about your husband and family?"
"I'm not married. And I have no family here in New York."
"Hmm. I'd expect you to be ready to cancel any social obligations if I should require your services some evening."
"Mr. Tompkins, everything you're telling me makes the job more interesting. This is exactly what I've been looking for."
Casey leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. He was tired of the steady parade of hopefuls through his office door. There'd been three or four he'd have liked to hire but they hadn't been willing to work for the low salary he was prepared to pay. There'd been prettier girls than Margaret Broom, and younger ones, but she was the most efficient and personable who was willing to take the salary he was offering.
"Well, Miss Broom," he'd said finally. "I'm willing to take you on. We'll see how it works out. When can you start?"
"Right now, if you want me. And I'm sure you won't be sorry, Mr. Tompkins."
And she was right. Casey wasn't sorry. She'd gone with him that very afternoon to buy the necessary equipment for the outer office. The telephone company had been called to come and put in the phone in the outer office. While they were shopping for her desk and chair she suggested Casey pick up a tiny little refrigerator and a hot plate.
She had several other suggestions and in less than three days Casey was very glad he'd hired her. She set up a new filing system and spent most of that first week arranging things around the office. She handled correspondence, took calls, made or canceled appointments, and made excellent coffee. It was quite pleasant to arrive at the office in the morning and find her waiting for him. Suddenly the place was no longer a dark, dusty, unattractive hole-in-the-wall office. She kept the place clean and bright and neat. And was extremely efficient.
They'd gone onto a first name basis even before the first week was out. If Casey was around the office at lunchtime they ate together. She was a good conversationalist, and he learned a lot about her.
Maggie Broom had a singularly dull social life. She lived alone in a small apartment on the fringe of the East Village. She had a number of girl friends, most of whom were married. She went out on occasional dates but had no steady boy friend.
It was precisely because of her dull social life that she needed a more interesting job. She needed the kind of job into which she could throw herself completely. Her job had to fill up the empty, lonely hours of her life.
Casey did his best to keep her busy. And he was rewarded for his efforts. He found that with her help his entire attitude toward his practice was changed. He was more aggressive, and his cases were handled more efficiently.
In the short time since he'd hired her, Maggie Broom had come to know him very well. She had hot coffee waiting for him when he came into the office in the morning and she was soon able to anticipate many of his wishes.
Judy had been quite pleased when he'd told her he'd hired a secretary. The simple fact that he now had an employee seemed to make him more substantial. It was as though, until that time, he'd only been playing at being a lawyer. Now, with an office and a secretary and more work she no longer had to feel that she was supporting him.
Judy and Maggie didn't meet until one Sunday morning when Casey called has secretary and asked her to pick up some papers at the office and bring them to him. He would need the papers that afternoon when he had a conference scheduled with one of his clients.
"You don't have to get all dressed up," he told her. "But I would like to go over those papers before I go out there. In fact, if you haven't had breakfast yet you can eat with us."
"All right," Maggie said. "I should be there in half an hour. If you want I can go with you this afternoon and make notes."
"No. That won't be necessary."
Casey was dressed in slacks and a sports shirt and Judy was in a robe when Maggie arrived. The secretary wore a simple skirt and blouse and a light sweater.
Casey took the papers and made the introductions. Maggie didn't want a full breakfast but consented to have coffee with them. The two girls began to gab and Casey studied his papers. After a while he refilled his coffee cup and carried it into the living room where it was quieter.
When he finished with the papers and returned to the kitchen the two women were gabbing furiously. They seemed to have hit it off quite well. When Casey went off to his appointment Maggie stayed behind with Judy.
He got back home late that afternoon and found Judy napping. He made himself a sandwich, opened a can of beer, and settled down before the television set to watch a golf match.
Judy woke up about five and came out to join him.
"She's really very nice," Judy said.
"Who?"
"Who do you think? Your .secretary, Maggie. You're really very lucky to have found her."
Casey turned away from the television set and grinned at his wife. "She was very impressed when she found out who you were."
"Well, I think she's nice. I like her."
"I do, too."
New Judy smiled. "I was sure you were going to hire some seductive little tramp. I had visions of the two of you spending all your office hours making love on top of your desk."
"Don't be so sure that's not exactly what we're doing," Casey teased. "Maggie may not look like much but she's a real tornado when it comes to sex."
"You're joking," Judy said. "But you're probably not very far from the truth."
"Oh? Is that what you two were talking about all day?"
"No. But a woman can tell a lot more about another woman than a man can. And we did talk about a lot of things. Maggie hasn't had much experience with men, but she's no virgin. And she's no prude, either."
"Oh, you can tell all that from one conversation, can you? I spent two weeks with the girl and I don't know that much about her."
Judy laughed. "You'll just have to trust to my feminine intuition, darling. And I'll tell you something else. Maggie is quite stricken with you. She sees you as some sort of real-life Perry Mason."
"Hmmm," Casey said, still teasing. "I didn't know she felt that way. I'll have to find out if I can interest her in an afternoon romp on the sofa once in a while. It'll help to relieve the boredom around the office."
"You're joking again," Judy said. "But, IT! bet if you tried she'd fall right over onto her back for you."
"And how would you feel about that?"
The question, serious after all that teasing, caught Judy by surprise. "Well," she said after a thoughtful moment or two, "as long as it's just an afternoon romp to relieve the boredom you go ahead and be my guest. I wouldn't want my husband to be bored." "Now you're the one who's kidding. If you thought I was fooling around with another woman you'd blow your stack."
"If I thought you were in love with another woman, I would," Judy said seriously. "But as long as I was sure you still loved me and only me, I wouldn't mind."
"You mean that? You wouldn't care if I had other women?"
"No. I don't think so. Really. Not as long as I was sure it was only casual. I know how men are. I know you find yourselves attracted to other women."
"Don't start that business now," Casey said. "Women are no different than men when it comes to sex."
"No, that's true. We feel attractions for other men, too. Every once in a while we get the urge for a little variety. We wonder what it would be like to have some particular man make love to us. And as long as I knew you were having a little fun on the side I'd expect the same privilege."
"Hah! I knew there was a catch to this whole thing. For a minute there it was too good to be true."
"Well, it would only be fair, you know. Would you really want it to be all one sided?"
"If you mean would I like it if I knew other men were making love to you the answer is no. I probably wouldn't like it at all. Maybe that is one sided, but I can't help the way I feel."
"You sound like a typical, petty, middle-class prude. It's all right for you but not for me."
"It may not seem fair, or logical, but that's the way I feel. I don't want to share you with any other men. It's bad enough now."
"What do you mean?"
Casey sighed. "Maybe it's time we did talk about it. I know there were other men before me."
"You knew that before you married me. Sure there were other men. I never tried to make you think differently. But that was before I met you."
"I know, I know. That's why I never mentioned it before. But don't think it hasn't bothered me. A man doesn't like to feel that someone else used his wife."
"Oh so that's it. You're just like all the rest. To you a wife is just another possession. I'm something you own, am I? Well, you'd better think again. Nobody owns me. I belong only to myself. And when I make love I'm not being used. Not by you or by anyone eke."
"Look, how did we get started on this anyway? I'd rather not talk about it."
"But I do not want to talk about it. Either our marriage is a partnership or it isn't. I don't belong to you. You don't own me. If anything, it's the other way around."
"What's that crack supposed to mean?"
"Well, after all, I do pay the bills around here."
"I thought that's what you meant. Nobody twisted your arm. Nobody asked you to pay the bills. As far as I'm concerned you could quit right now. I'd be just as happy living in an apartment we could afford on what I make. You were the one who wanted a plush pad with all the trimmings."
"Every woman wants these things. But they expect their husbands to provide them."
"Yeah, but most women are willing to wait until their husbands can afford them."
"You'd like for me to quit working, wouldn't you? You'd like to keep me locked up in some dark smelly little apartment while you went off to work every day. It would make-you feel more like a man, wouldn't it?"
"You think I need you to make me feel like a man? I could have half the women in this town just with a snap of my fingers. I don't need this. I don't need a three-hundred-and-fifty-dollar-a-month apartment. But you wanted it so I let you pay for it."
"The apartment doesn't mean a damned thing and you know it. What bothers you, and what's been bothering you all along, is that I'm not like other women. I won't let you keep me under your thumb. Damn it, I'm an individual. An actress, and a darned good one. What really kills you is that I'm making five-hundred dollars a week."
"You want to know what really kills me? What really kills me is that you're too damned busy to be a wife."
"I'm a better wife than a lot of women. Your house gets cleaned. Your meals get cooked. Your dirty underwear gets washed."
"My meals get cooked! Some big deal. Every once in a while you make breakfast for me. When's the last time you cooked a dinner? I'm sick and tired of fixing my own or eating in restaurants. And you don't do the cleaning, or the washing. All your money does it for you. Except that we make love every once in a while I might as well be living in a hotel."
They both stopped suddenly, surprised to realize they'd been screaming at one another at the tops of their lungs. Judy's face twisted and her eyes filled up with tears. She leaped to her feet and raced into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Casey, his blood boiling and his heart thumping in his chest, rose to follow her to finish the argument. But he stopped himself, grabbed his jacket, and stormed out of the apartment, making sure he slammed the door as hard as he could.
By the time he hit the street some of the initial rage had subsided. For a moment he almost weakened and returned, but he didn't want to give her the satisfaction.
He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, hunched his shoulders, and walked. He came to a bar and turned in without even thinking about it. He ordered a double and knocked it back in two long swallows, then tapped the glass on the bar for a refill.
Again and again he reviewed the accusations she'd made. And every time he thought about it he got angrier. She'd practically called him a gigolo. And what was all that crap about wanting to sleep with other men?
Casey had a number of drinks, and the liquor helped to calm him. When he realized that standing at the bar and getting roaring drunk would do nothing for either of them he paid his tab and left.
It was seven-thirty in the evening and the city was filled with hazy pink dusk. He wouldn't go back to the apartment that night. Let her stew a while. She'd come around to his way of thinking when she realized he was dead serious.
But he'd need a place to sleep. The office! Why not? The big leather sofa wouldn't be the most comfortable thing in the world but it would do for one night.
And Judy would never think of looking for him there. When she started worrying about him she would call all their friends looking for him. Then, tomorrow, she'd call the office and apologize.
Casey waved down a cruising taxi and gave the driver the downtown address. More and more of the liquor he'd drunk was hitting his bloodstream. He was getting dizzy and nauseous, and he could feel the stuff sloshing around in his belly.
The cab pulled up in front of the office building. Casey paid the driver and staggered to the front door. The building was never locked and the elevators were self-service.
Casey, stumbling as he walked and his head reeling, saw a light through the frosted glass of his office door. He tried the knob and found it unlocked. He threw the door open and heard a sharp scream of surprise.
CHAPTER NINE
Maggie Broom, in the same skirt and blouse she'd worn earlier, was sitting behind her desk.
"Oh, Casey," she gasped, one hand to her bosom. "You frightened me."
"What are you doing here?" Casey mumbled, staggering into the office and closing the door behind him.
"I just wanted to catch up on a few little things. But you look terrible. Is something wrong? Did something happen?"
"Judy and I had a fight. A real screamer. I got a little drunk. She didn't call here looking for me, did she?"
"No. Nobody called. Here, let me help you before you fall flat on your face."
She got up and came around the desk to help him. He let her slip her shoulder under has arm and he leaned his weight against her.
"The other room. The couch," he s- .id.
She opened the inner door, turned on the light in the inner office, and helped him toward the sofa.
"I think I'm going to be sick," he mumbled thickly.
"Wait! Wait!"
She hurried him toward the bathroom. They got there just in time. He dropped to his knees, leaned over the bowl, and puked his guts up. He retched until he had nothing more in his stomach to bring up. Maggie held his head and crooned soothingly to him. His stomach continued in a series of dry heaves that left him quite weak.
Maggie wet a towel, wiped his face, and helped him out to the sofa. He flopped down on his back and threw a forearm across his eyes.
"God, am I sick! That light hurts my eyes. Turn it off."
She snapped off the bright overhead light and turned on the small desk lamp. The room was dark except for the circle of light in the center of the desk and the square of light coming in through the door.
"God, I feel like I'm dying," Casey groaned.
"Here, let me make you more comfortable," Maggie said.
She opened his jacket, then unbuttoned his collar and opened his belt and the top button of his trousers. She removed ins shoes and brought a small pillow to slip under his head.
"There, how's that?"
"Better. Thank you."
"Would you like me to make some coffee?"
"I guess I could use some."
"When did you last eat?"
"I had a sandwich and a beer a couple of hours ago, but I guess I threw it all up."
"You need food in your stomach. I'll go out and get you something."
"Good. Get some aspirin, too. There's money in my left-hand pants pocket. Take what you need. I'm afraid to move. My head will drop right off my shoulders."
She put one knee on the edge of the sofa and leaned across him. Her hand slipped into his pocket and he could feel her fingers working around while she felt for the money.
"You just he there and rest," she told him. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Don't worry. I'm in no shape to go anywhere."
With his eyes closed he heard her go out into the outer office and move around as she put the pot of coffee up. Then the office door opened and closed when she went out for the food.
Waves of sick vertigo washed over Casey as he lay on the sofa and his mouth was full of the bitter taste of bile. When his eyes were closed it felt like the whole world was spinning around in crazy circles.
Maggie returned in a surprisingly short time. She came straight in to the inner office and rattled the paper bag.
"I got some grilled cheese sandwiches," she said. "That's all they had that was bland enough."
"Grilled cheese will be fine," he told her.
She helped him sit up, put the sandwiches in his lap, and went to get his coffee. He took four aspirin and a sip of scalding coffee, then tried the sandwich. The first mouthful stayed down and he tried another.
Casey finished the two sandwiches and Maggie brought him another cup of coffee. His head still ached, but he was no longer drunk and didn't feel like he was about to die. The world had stopped spinning around his head.
"Thanks, Maggie," he said, patting her hand. "I'm glad you were here to help me."
"Nonsense. Do you want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing to talk about. I don't even know how the argument started. I came home and she was asleep. Then she woke up and joined me in the living room. One minute we were talking about you and the next minute we were screaming at each other."
"You had a fight about me?"
"No. That's the funny part. You didn't have anything to do with it. Judy was saying that she was glad she'd met you. She liked you and thought you were very nice. I agreed with her, and then all of a sudden we were arguing. I guess it's been coming for a long time. We've never had a real argument before. We both said a lot of things that needed saying."
Maggie was about to speak when the ringing of the phone interrupted her.
"Don't answer it," Casey said, catching her as she was rising. "It might be Judy. I don't want her to know where I am. Not tonight. Ill talk to her in the morning."
"Are you going to spend the night here?"
Casey nodded. "It was the only place I could think of where she wouldn't be able to get through to me. I just don't want to talk to her until tomorrow. If that was her on the phone she's probably already called all our friends to look for me. Let her worry a little. It'll do her good."
"You won't be very comfortable here," Maggie said.
"I'll be all right. It's only for tonight."
"But Judy might decide to come looking for you here."
"I never thought of that. Maybe I'd better go to a hotel."
"You're in no condition to spend the night in a hotel," Maggie said quickly. "But if you want to, you could spend the night on the sofa in my living room. It opens into a bed and you'd be more comfortable than you are here."
"I wouldn't want to put you to all that trouble," Casey said.
"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble. And this way you wouldn't have to spend the evening alone. You think you can make it downstairs to a taxi?"
"I can make it."
She stood up and helped him to his feet. Casey grabbed wildly as his open trousers began to slither down about his hips. But his numbed and trembling fingers wouldn't obey well enough for him to fasten his clothes.
"Here," Maggie said, reaching. "I'll do that," He felt very foolish standing there rocking on the balls of his feet while she zipped him up and fastened his button and belt Maggie's apartment was small and tastefully furnished. There was a tiny kitchen alcove and a large room with one corner furnished as a dining room and the rest as a living room. And there was a separate room that she used as a bedroom.
Casey's clothes were soaked with the sickly perspiration of his drunkenness. After another cup of coffee in her living room he asked Maggie if he could take a shower.
"Of course," she said, and even offered to help him out of his clothes.
He turned down the offer. His head didn't hurt nearly so badly any more and he was steadier on his feet. She brought him a fresh towel and he went into the bedroom to undress, and then into the bathroom to take his shower.
The shower helped quite a bit, and he felt almost normal again when he came out with the towel wrapped modestly about his hips. His clothes had disappeared from the bed and he went out to the other room to find her washing his socks and shorts and T-shirt.
"You didn't have to do that," he said.
"You'll have to wear them in the morning," she told him.
"But now I don't have anything to wear."
"I know," she said with a soft giggle. "I sort of like you that way. I'd offer you something of mine but you'd look awfully silly in a frilly housecoat." Casey returned to the sofa and lit a cigarette. "This is a little embarrassing," he told her. "Anyone seeing us now would get the wrong idea."
"Nobody will see us," she said. "And nobody will ever have to know you spent the night here."
She finished washing his things and hung them up to dry. "I'm going to go in and take my shower," she said. "Do you want to watch television or something?"
"I'll turn it on if I want," he answered.
She went into the bedroom and turned on the light. He heard her moving about and when he looked up he noticed the bedroom door was not completely closed. He had quick glimpses of her as she passed back and forth across the small opening.
The first time she was in her bra and half-slip. The next time she was in panties and bra. The third time she was wearing only the panties. And the fourth time she stopped with her back to the opening and drew the panties off.
She seemed completely unaware of the open door and was viewing herself in the mirror over her dresser. She turned slightly and he caught a glimpse of one pink-tipped breast.
Naked, she was far more attractive than when she was dressed. Her body had a smooth flowing symmetry and her flesh was firm and clear. Her buttocks were high and round and firm, and they thrust jauntily from below the small of her back. And her legs were slender and well-formed.
She stepped out of sight and a moment later he heard the hiss of the shower. He was content to sit on the sofa, a cigarette clenched between the forefinger and middle finger of his right hand, listening to the hiss of the shower and watching the blue smoke from the cigarette curl lazily toward the ceiling. The apartment was warm and comfortable and brightly lit. Though he'd never been there before he felt completely at ease.
When the shower stopped Casey raised his eyes again toward the partially open bedroom door. He saw her come into view again. She went to the dresser, opened a drawer, and leaned over. The position drew her buttocks taut and displayed everything.
Casey smiled, feeling the first stirrings of desire for Maggie. She knew the door was open. And she knew he was looking. She wanted him to look. She wanted him.
From the dresser drawer she selected a long filmy garment. He watched her unfold the thing and hold it in front of her while she checked her reflection in the mirror. She hesitated, watching herself, as though she couldn't make up her mind.
Casey decided to make up her mind for her. He stubbed out the cigarette, rose, and on silent bare feet made his way to the bedroom. He pushed the door wide.
Maggie was still looking at herself in the mirror, and she seemed unaware of his presence. He unwrapped the towel from about his waist and let it drop to the floor.
Completely naked now, he stepped up behind her and pressed himself firmly against her smooth naked back and buttocks. She gasped and stiffened as though in surprise. He wrapped his arms about her and cupped the ripe melons of her breasts.
After a moment Maggie let out a long groaning sigh and sagged back against him. "We shouldn't," she murmured in a weak voice. "We really shouldn't."
"You want me. I want you. It was time to stop all that foolishness with the open door and you parading around in here."
Maggie giggled. "Was it that obvious?"
"Yes," he murmured, directly into her ear.
The explosion of his warm breath in her ear made her shiver against him. He felt her nipples grow against his stroking fingertips and her wide hot buttocks ground back against his aroused loins.
She stepped to the side with one leg and he felt himself slip between her buttocks. She gave a short grunt of pleasure and quickly closed her legs once again. Now he was trapped and she teased him by flexing and relaxing the massive muscles of her buttocks.
But Casey could tease, too. He dropped one of his hands down the front of her body and cupped between her legs. His fingers rolled against her, prodding and seeking and finding.
"Ah, Casey!" she cried. "That's good. It's sooo good."
She was aroused very easily.
Finally neither of them could take any more of the teasing. Casey stepped back from her and spun her about to face him. They were about two feet apart, held immobile for a moment by the powerful aura of mutual desire.
Her eyes traveled down the length of has body and stared hard at the mightiness of his passion. And he could see the ripples of excitement coursing through her.
"Oh, Casey," she murmured, reaching out one hand to touch him with awe and wonder.
He stood straighter and felt her fingers slide over him. She explored completely, then gripped him tightly and backed toward the bed, pulling him after her.
When she felt the edge of the mattress against the backs of her legs she sat down and pulled him in close. Both hands filled with him and she leaned forward to bestow a moist and lingering kiss.
"Mmmm," he groaned. "That's nice."
He reached down to take her face between his hands. But it wasn't necessary to guide her. She knew what she wanted to do. And he let her do it.
After an eternity of jolting spasms she raised her lips from him, straightened and arched her back, and swung her heavy breasts against him where he was most sensitive. The slap of those melons against him caused a wonderful tingling. The smooth flesh rubbed against him. The hard nipples dragged back and forth over him.
"Easy," he murmured when he felt himself approaching too near to completion. "Easy, baby."
She stopped immediately, turned, and crawled up onto the bed to stretch out. Casey did not follow. He stood exactly as he'd been standing. He watched her roll over onto her back. His eyes roamed the hills and valleys of her body.
"I love it when you look at me like that," she said hotly. "I can almost feel your eyes on me like a touch."
She put her hands against her hips and swept them upward to cup her breasts. "Look at me here," she gasped.
He looked and she writhed beneath his gaze.
"And here, too," she said, one of her hands leading his eyes down the center of her body to the lush juncture of her thighs.
He looked there, too. He saw her part her legs. He watched her writhe as she caressed herself. He could almost hear the friction.
Aroused almost beyond belief, Casey took a half step toward the bed "No!" she cried. "Not yet. Just stand there. Watch me."
He watched as she brought herself to the very brink of completion. He reached down and gripped himself to try to still the tremors of excitement which flooded his body.
Her glazed eyes widened when she saw him holding himself. "Oh, God!" she cried. "I can't wait any longer. Come to me, Case. Now!"
He needed no further urging. In one leap he was beside her on the bed. And with one smooth plunge he entered her.
From that moment on she was in complete control. She varied the tempo of his attack with the pressure of her thighs about his waist. She controlled him completely with the muscles only women have. She whispered instructions, cooed words of love.
"Easy now, darling... Slow, slow... A little bit.
Just a little bit... Fast, fast... Harder now. Deeper. Rip me open, darling. Tear me apart."
He heard and he obeyed, and it made it better for both of them. Her control was so good, her timing so perfect, that they reached the prime moment at precisely the same time.
Just as his own passion surged he heard her give a full throaty scream and felt her grip him in an embrace of surprising strength. They strained together and held while they slid down from that glorious moment.
A few moments later he lay on his back smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling while she cuddled against him.
"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him tenderly on the chest.
"You shouldn't thank a man for making love to you."
"Yes. Yes, I should. I don't fool myself. I know what I am. I'm a plain girl. Men aren't attracted to me. Oh, I know I'm not ugly, but there's something missing."
"That's nonsense."
"No, it's not. But I'm a hot-blooded woman, Casey. I need loving and lots of it. I wanted you from the first minute I saw you in your office the day of the interview. Oh, I don't care about your wife. I don't expect you to marry me. All I want from you is a little loving now and then. I'll work for you. I'll work hard. And I'll make you very happy."
Casey couldn't answer her. Instead he stubbed out his cigarette and gathered her in his arms. She sighed with pleasure and reached one hand between them to hold him.
"I love to hold you like this," she whispered. "I love to feel you grow when you become excited. Oh, Casey, Casey, I want you again. I need you."
"Not yet," he told her. "It's too soon."
"I'll make you ready."
She slithered out of his embrace and rose to her knees on the bed. "Turn over, Casey. Onto your belly."
"What... "
"No questions. Just do what I tell you and I'll make you very, very happy."
He rolled over onto his stomach. She crawled closer and he could feel her knees hitting him just above the waist. Her hands came to rest on the backs of his shoulders. Very lightly she drew those hands downward, the fingertips trailing like burning brands.
Her fingertips rose onto the swell of his lean haunches, then trailed down the backs of his legs to the hollows behind the knees. Again and again she repeated the gesture until he was filled with a glowing, lazy sensuality.
He felt like some Oriental potentate being serviced by one of the harem girls. Blood rose to the surface of his skin and his flesh became moist with perspiration.
He stiffened and gasped when he felt her lips press warmly against the nape of his neck. Those lips moved slowly down the length of his back. Her hands gripped the cheeks of his buttocks and she kissed. He felt her tongue slither against his flesh.
Her cheeks brushed his cheeks and she drove him wild.
He reached back and down with his hand to push her away so he could roll over onto his back once again. Her eyes gleamed when she saw the success of her behavior.
"Now, darling, now for both of us," she said as she straddled his hips and lowered herself to him.
CHAPTER TEN
Casey spent the entire morning tn the office waiting for Judy's call. That call never came. He sat brooding at his desk, work piled high awaiting his attention. Every time the telephone rang he would snap erect and wait for Maggie to announce who was calling.
By one in the afternoon Casey was having second thoughts. After all, he was the one who walked out. Perhaps he should be the one to phone. But it seemed to him that making the overture would be an admission that he had been wrong from the very beginning.
Wrong? Wrong about what? Now, less than twenty-four hours after the argument Casey could barely remember what it had all been about. He couldn't remember the words or the accusations, only the anger and aggression. He could remember quite clearly how he felt, but not -why he felt that way.
At two o'clock Casey reached for the phone and dialed his home number. On the fourth ring Pearl, the cleaning woman, answered.
"Let me speak to Mrs. Tompkins," he told her.
"She not here."
"Now look, I know that's what she told you to say. But put her on the phone."
"No, she really not here. She wasn't here when I come in this morning."
"What time was that?"
"About ten. And from the look of it hadn't nobody been here all night."
"What do you mean?"
"The beds was all made up. Hadn't neither of them been slept in." What!" be shouted.
"Don't yell, Mr. Tompkins. I only tellin' what I found when I come in."
Without another word Casey slammed down the receiver. He leaped up from behind his desk, grabbed his suit jacket, and slipped it on as he hurried out.
In the outer office he stopped for only a moment. "Maggie, I've got something I've got to look into. I don't know when I'll be back or where I can be reached. Hold things down here as best you can. I'll call you later."
"If it's after five you can reach me at home," she told him just before he closed the outer office door behind him.
It was two-thirty when he reached the theater. None of the cast or crew had yet arrived for the evening performance. Only the old man who guarded the stage door was there.
"Was Mrs. Tompkins here last night?" Casey asked.
"Of course. Everybody was here," the old man told him.
"How about after the performance? Did anyone go back to her dressing room to see her?"
The old man shrugged. "There were lots of people here last night I don't know where all of them went. Come to think of it, though, there was some people who asked for her. Seems like I've seen them before. Sure, I remember now. It was a man and a woman. They came backstage with you on opening night. I remember because you brought them back both before and after the performance. A red-headed lady and her husband. They wasn't supposed to be back here before the curtain."
A red-headed woman and her husband on opening night. It only took Casey a moment to remember. On opening night Jack and Arlene had been with him.
Casey left the theater and went into the bar next door. He phoned Jack's office. Jack's secretary informed him her boss was in conference and could not be disturbed.
Next Casey phoned Maggie and had her get him Jack's home number from the address book in the center drawer of his desk. He scribbled the number on a bar napkin, dropped another dime in the phone, and dialed.
"Arlene?" he said, when the phone at the other end was picked up. "This is Casey. I want to talk to Judy."
"Casey. What makes you think she's here?"
"Come on, Arlene. Don't play funny games with me. She wasn't home all last night and I just learned you and Jack were at the theater last night after the performance."
"How would you know she wasn't home?" Arlene countered. "The way I understand it you weren't there, either."
"Look, I don't want to discuss this with you now. Just put her on. I want to talk to her."
"She's not here now, Casey. She called early last evening. Said you two had had a fight and that you'd walked out. She didn't want to go home to an empty apartment. We picked her up and brought her here. She was very low and I guess maybe we all had a little too much to drink."
"What are you talking about?"
Arlene hesitated. "Well, you'll have to find out eventually. But this isn't something we should talk about over the phone."
"What do you mean you had too much to drink?"
"Maybe you'd better come over here," Arlene said.
"Do you know where Judy is right now?"
"No, I don't. Honestly. She was here. She left about an hour ago. She didn't tell me where she was going. I didn't ask."
Ten minutes later Casey was seated in Arlene Hass' living room. He sat tense in his chair and she was curled on the sofa across from him. She was wearing a pair of skin-tight gold lame trousers that clung lovingly to every curve of her body. Those pants were so tight he could see outlined beneath them every fold of flesh. She was wearing no panties. The slacks were too tight for that. Her blouse was white with long billowy sleeves and a deep plunging neckline which showed off her breasts to good advantage.
"Now, you'd better tell me what this is all about," Casey said.
"Casey Tompkins, you're a fool!"
"I didn't ask for an evaluation of my personality. What happened here last night?"
"We picked Judy up at the theater after the performance and came straight back here. She was miserable. I fixed her a sandwich and we all had drinks. She told us about the fight you two had had."
"You meant something else over the phone," Casey told her.
"I'm coming to that. We had more drinks, lots of them. The three of us talked for a while, then Jack went in to bed. I told Judy it was too bad you weren't more like Jack."
"What do you mean?"
"That's what she asked. Jack and I are swingers. Do you know what that term means?"
"The same thing it's always meant, I guess."
Arlene smiled briefly and shook her head. "It means people who... Oh, hell, this is awkward. Maybe I'd better try and explain another way."
"I don't care how you do it. Just explain."
"By the time Jack and I had been married a year we were both bored with one another. He was playing around and I found out about it. I offered him a divorce, but he didn't want it. And, after I thought about it a while, I didn't wont one, either. But we couldn't go on like we were, with him, cheating and his feeling guilty all the time.
"Well, one night we sat down to discuss it openly and frankly. We both tried to be as honest as we could. It wasn't that Jack had stopped loving me. Or I, him. He was attracted to this other woman only because she offered variety. She was somebody different and that enticed him. I finally admitted that I'd been attracted to other men more than once since we'd been married, but I'd never done anything about it. After a long discussion we agreed that he could go on seeing other women, but that I could have the same privilege."
Casey was stunned. "You mean... "
Arlene nodded. "That's right. And it was great. It opened up a whole new world for both of us. Casey, it saved our marriage. We weren't jealous of one another. On nights when we didn't have outside dates we'd tell one another the things we'd done. It would get us both very excited and we'd make love half the night."
"I don't believe it," Casey said in a hollow voice. "I just don't believe it."
"It's true, all right."
"And you told Judy about all this?"
"That's right. Just the way I'm telling you. But there's more."
"Go on."
"We met other married couples who had had the same problem. And soon we'd dropped all our old friends for the new ones. It was even better when two or three couples would get together and have a party. The first time I watched Jack with another woman I got so hot I nearly went out of my mind. I wore out the other two husbands that night and then made love to Jack when we got home."
"That's what you were talking about when I called a couple of weeks ago to get Eileen Dover's phone number?"
Arlene nodded. "Ben and Eileen are members of our little group. When you wanted her phone number I naturally assumed you and Judy had swapped with them and were going to join our happy little group. That's why I hinted... But when you sounded so shocked I knew I was wrong."
"You're sick. All of you are sick."
"No, Casey. You're the one who's sick. You're the one who's full of guilts and doubts and inhibitions. The swinging life is wonderful. Jack and I don't get jealous of one another. We have a ball. We have all the fun without any of the problems. This way there's never any danger of sticky emotional involvements. All the other couples are married, too. Neither of us has to worry about the other falling in love with somebody else. And sex has never been so good."
Casey was shocked and confused and a little frightened at the tingling of his own body. In some strange way Arlene's confession had excited him.
"What did Judy say when you told her all this?"
"At first she refused to believe me. But when I showed her the pictures she had no choice."
"Pictures?"
"Of course. We like to take polaroid pictures when we have a party. Besides the fun of looking at the pictures they're insurance against anyone suddenly trying to blackmail us. Would you like to see some of them?"
"Maybe later. Right now I'd like to find out what you meant when you said you'd had too much to drink."
"Well, we'd both had quite a bit by then. And the pictures sort of got Judy excited. She confessed that the idea of watching you with another woman got her excited, too. We giggled together and talked about sex for a while. We compared notes. Then one of us, I don't even remember which one it was, suggested we see if Jack could tell us apart in the dark when he was awakened from sleep."
Casey could see what was coming and it was like a hot knife slipping silently and slowly into his vitals.
Arlene paused, watching the expression on his face. "Can you figure out what happened? Or do I have to spell it out?"
"Maybe you'd better tell me everything."
"Well, we both took off our clothes and went into Jack's bedroom. We didn't turn on the light. I sat in the chair and Judy crawled into bed with him. She played with him in the dark and without waking up all the way he turned to her and made love to her. And all the time he kept whispering my name. It was really very funny. I tried to keep from laughing but when I couldn't control myself any longer I turned on the light "Jack was on top of her. The light froze him in mid-stroke. He was too far gone then to stop for very long. Judy rolled her hips once and he started again. When it was over for them he wasn't really very mad. I got out the camera. We took some pictures and had another party. Then the three of us fell asleep all in the same bed."
"Let me get this straight," Casey said. "You're telling me my wife and your husband made love and you helped them?"
Arlene nodded.
"I hope you're proud of yourself," he said viciously. "You greedy little witch, you ruined my marriage"
"Oh, don't be such a damned fool. Your marriage isn't ruined. So your wife got boffed and she enjoyed it. So what? Besides, you're in no position to throw any rocks. Eileen told me all about that afternoon at her apartment"
"Did you tell Judy about that, too?"
"No. She doesn't know about that yet. But if you try to make trouble about last night, I'll tell her everything."
"What am I supposed to do, just calmly accept the fact that my wife prefers other men?"
"Didn't you hear anything I've said? Judy doesn't prefer other men. What she wants is in addition to what she already has. She still loves you. But sometimes she's attracted to other men. And she knows you're attracted to other women. She wants for both of you to have everything without feeling guilty. Don't say anything. Think about it for a minute. How does it really hurt you if she makes it with another man when you're sure it's nothing but a Utile light-hearted fun? It doesn't cost you money. It doesn't take anything away from you.
"Jack and Judy made it last night. But if you didn't know about it, and if you hadn't had that stupid fight, she'd still be the same wife she's always been and you wouldn't be so miserable."
"But I do know about it, thanks to you."
"I only told you because I thought I could make you see things from her point of view. I didn't know you were a pig-headed obstinate fool. You'd better be careful or you're going to lose that girl."
Casey leaned back in his seat and slumped low. His brain was whirling inside his skull. His anger was gone. He wanted to feel angry but there wasn't anything left inside him. What hurt worst of all was the knowledge that while Judy had been making love with Jack Hass, he, Casey, had been in the writhing embrace of Maggie Broom.
"You look like you need a drink," Arlene said.
Casey nodded. "A stiff one, please."
She got up, crossed the room, and brought back half a tumbler full of liquor. Casey choked down a big gulp. Arlene perched on the arm of his chair.
"I know it's difficult to accept at first," she said. "But after a while it begins to make sense. And it can be a wonderful way to live."
"What am I going to do about Judy?"
"I suggest you tell her everything when you find her. Tell her about being here and finding out what happened. And tell her you're not angry with her about it. It might not hurt if you made some confessions of your own."
"Tell her about Eileen Dover?"
"Yes. And anything else you might have on your conscience."
Casey knocked back the remainder of his drink and pushed himself out of his chair. "I guess I should thank you," he said.
"Where are you going?"
"Out to get drunk again, I guess. And to think."
"There's nothing to think about," Arlene told him. "You really don't have much choice. Either you give in to her or you divorce her."
"I know, I know. I suppose I'll have to find her and have a long talk with her."
"You won't be able to find her this afternoon. There's no telling where she is. Why not wait and call her later at the theater? She's bound to be there."
"You're right. I guess I'll go home."
"You don't have to do that, either."
Arlene rose from the arm of the chair and stepped in close to Casey. He could feel the tips of her breasts against his chest and the light brushing of her belly against the front of his trousers.
Her mouth was very close to his when she said, "Maybe you'd like to take a look at some of those pictures now."
"Yeah, why not? What the hell, why should I care?"
He slipped his arm about her waist and pulled her hard against him. She reached her arms up and locked her hands behind his neck. Her red mouth opened wetly beneath his lips and her tongue thrust up.
She moaned softly and squirmed against him. He could feel the yielding shifting masses of her belly and breasts against has body. He dropped his hands from her waist to the swells of her buttocks.
She scraped his tongue with her teeth when she felt him squeeze her buttocks. The kiss ended when they were both out of breath. Her wet hot mouth slid from his lips to his ear.
"I like to be touched back there," she whispered. "I'm especially sensitive there. Squeeze me hard. Hurt me."
That was exactly what he wanted to do. He squeezed with all his strength, his fingers sinking deep into the softness of her rump. Her eyes opened wide then squinted with the pain.
"Good," she groaned. "Oh, so good."
After a moment he released her and pushed her back from him. "You said something about some pictures."
"Yes," she said with a laugh, reaching to take his hand. "Come with me."
He followed her into the bedroom. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, releasing his hand and waving toward the huge bed.
Casey slipped out of his jacket, removed his tie, and kicked off his shoes. He clambered up onto the bed and stretched out. Arlene went to a closet, opened it, and took down a shoebox from the shelf.
The whole box was full of pictures. He watched her finger through them, stopping every few seconds to select one or another. When she returned the box to the shelf she had a sheaf of perhaps twenty pictures in her hand.
She came to the edge of the bed and looked down at him, a smile playing about her lips. "It doesn't look like you need these to get you interested," she said.
Casey looked down at himself. He was tense with excitement Arlene tossed the pictures onto his chest "You look at these while I get ready, lover." As she turned away from the bed she reached down to snap on the lamp on the bedside table.
Casey grabbed the pictures, squared them up, and looked at the first one. It was a full front shot of Arlene and Jack. They were both naked and both of them were smiling into the camera. Jack was aroused to a state of full potency and Arlene was reaching across to hold him with one hand.
Casey was more interested in Arlene than in Jack. The polaroid snap was in color. He saw the red hair on her head and at her loins. Her naked body was very white and very lovely. Her long legs were straight and smooth and attractive. Above them flared her rounded hips. Her waist was narrow and her firm breasts rode high on her chest.
The breasts were big. Both nipples were hard and thrusting and they were surrounded by aureoles of unusual size and color. The saucer-sized aureoles were dark brown. The hard nipples looked almost black. Her breasts, big as they were, were not shaped like melons. Instead they tapered sharply to points. They were twin cones of passion-meat.
Casey looked up from the pictures and saw Arlene on the other side of the room in the act of disrobing. She had her pants and blouse off and was reaching up behind to unfasten her brassiere. Her brief bikini panties were very sheer and left nothing whatever to the imagination.
Casey looked quickly through the sheaf of pictures. Most of them were shots of Arlene with her various lovers. He was particularly struck by one shot of her with Eileen Dover's husband, Ben. Naked, the man looked like a bear. He had a thick fuzz of hair all over his body. He was barrel-torsoed, bandy-legged, and heavy-armed. The camera had frozen them in a moment near to completion. Ben Dover's face was screwed up with concentration and effort. Arlene's eyes were wide -- almost frightened. Her mouth hung open. Casey could see the lines of strained muscles beneath her fine flesh.
There were more pictures. Arlene did not return to the bed until Casey'd had plenty of time to look at them all. And they worked their magic on him. The viewing of each photograph added to his excitement.
He was startled by the sudden nearness of her and put the snap-shots to one side. She was standing naked beside the bed, only inches away from him, smiling down at his frown of concentration. "You like?" she asked.
"Yeah. I like. These things really pot a guy in the mood."
She laughed and put her hand on the front of his trousers. "You were in the mood before you saw them. Are you going to make love with your clothes on?"
He gave her a wide grin. "This was as much your idea as mine. You do some of the work. Undress me."
He reached to palm one breast when she leaned over him to open the buttons of his shirt. He stroked the silken globe and pricked the nipple with his fingertip.
She helped him out of his shirt, then pulled his T-shirt up and off. She perched on the edge of the mattress, her naked hip close to his. Both her hands stroked the bare flesh of his chest, her fingers tracing the ridges of muscle.
She tickled his washboard belly and slipped one hand beneath the waistband of his trousers. He felt her hot slim fingers searching beneath the several layers of his clothing. Her fingers found him and brushed him excitedly while she used her other hand to open his belt and button and zipper.
He raised his hips from the bed so she could pull his trousers and shorts down. Fully exposed, he waited breathlessly for her reaction.
For a long moment she stared at his mighty passion. Her nostrils flared, showing white around the rims with every breath. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and her erect nipples weaved invisible patterns in the air.
He reached for her bosom again with one hand and placed the other hand in her warm and naked lap. She groaned softly, squirmed closer, and captured him with both her hands.
She kissed, once, quickly. He groaned with disappointment when she did not continue. Instead, she moved down toward the foot of the bed to pull his trousers and shorts down over his ankles and off.
Merely being naked with this voluptuous redhead was somehow in itself very exciting. Casey stretched his limbs, spread-eagling himself. She lay down beside him and rolled her hot softness against him.
He wrapped his arms about her and they kissed. Her tongue was a wild bird flitting about inside his mouth and her hands sent electric sparks shooting through him wherever they touched.
Casey touched, too. One of his hands slipped down her back, explored the twin-richnesses of her buttocks, then moved over the curve of her hip and learned the contours of her heaving belly.
Her thighs quivered and parted slightly to permit his hand greater freedom. He touched her and was pleased. Already she was warm with desire.
"Oh, God," she groaned as his fingers claimed her.
"Yeah, baby. Yeah," be told her. "You want me, don't you? You really want me."
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Here I come."
He rolled her onto her back and flattened her with his own body. Her legs spread wide beneath him and rose on either side of his hips. There was no fumbling, no misdirection. He moved to her and touched lightly. She adjusted the angle of her hips and tightened her legs and arms about him.
With one smooth plunge, he took her.
She screamed and sank her teeth into the flesh of his shoulder. On the third stroke she reached her first peak and raked him from buttocks to back with her fingernails. He could feel the furrows of raw flesh and the oozing of blood into the gouges she left with her nails.
On the fifth stroke she climaxed again. "God, God, God!" she screamed when she realized he was not yet done with her.
Casey let all the anger and frustration well up inside him. He held her hips and beat himself savagely against her. He lunged to her with fury and violence, trying, with every stroke to hurt her, to tear her open, to rip her apart.
But the violence of his act only made it better for her. Heels drumming at his buttocks, nails gouging him, teeth nipping, she encouraged him to greater effort.
He grunted and plunged, each movement bringing him closer to completion. Finally his supreme moment came. He stabbed deep and locked himself to her. A moment later she reached her third peak.
Her arms and legs tightened about him when he sought to roll away.
"Don't move," she whispered harshly. "Stay with me. Stay just like this. I love to feel you like this. It was good, Casey. Very good. The third time is always the best for me."
"You really like this sort of thing, don't you?"
She smiled softly at him, her eyes swimming with the lassitude of after pleasure. "You do, too," she told him. "Admit it."
"It's different for a man."
"That's one of the great myths of all time. Sure men and women are different, but they both like sex. It's just that damned few women are willing to be completely honest with themselves and their husbands."
"Is Judy like this, too?"
"You're her husband. You should know."
"I know how she is with me. I want to know how she was with Jack."
"I don't- think we'd better talk about that."
"Well, then, tell me something else. Are you like this with all the men who make love to you?"
Arlene thought for a moment "Casey, one of the greatest things about sex is that it's always different. For me it's never really the same twice in a row even with the same man. Oh, sure, some men affect me differently than others. Sometimes it's just a quiet, pleasant little thing with no histrionics. Sometimes, when I'm in that sort of mood, kind of lazy and relaxed, I just sigh once or twice, then roll over and go to sleep. It depends on the mood and the man, I guess."
Casey withdrew and rolled away from her. He rose to get his cigarettes, then returned to the bed to light two of them. They smoked and rested, with her curled close beside him.
"You said you took pictures last night," Casey said softly.
"You mean of Judy and Jack?" He nodded.
"I did. But I don't think you're quite ready to see things like that yet. Don't make it any harder on yourself than it has to be. The first time you see her in action it should be at a party when you're excited, too. When everybody's excited. It will be easier for you to accept."
"I guess you're right," he said, sitting up and reaching for his shorts.
"And, darling, when you find Judy I suggest you tell her about us this afternoon, too."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Casey finished dressing and sat down on the edge of the bed to use the telephone. He called his office and spoke to Maggie.
"Casey Tompkins, Attorney at Law," she said when she answered.
"Hi, Maggie. Any calls?"
"Several," she said. "But not the one you're asking about."
"My wife didn't call?"
"No, Casey. I'm sorry."
"All right, I'll find her. Tell me about the other calls. Anything interesting?"
"There was one that sounds like it might be quite lucrative."
"Give me all the disgusting details."
Arlene had listened to Casey's end of the conversation for a few moments, then slid closer on the bed. Still naked, and enjoying her nakedness, she took his free hand and placed it against her sweet warm flesh.
Holding his wrist with both hands she guided his hand all over her body. At first Casey concentrated on the conversation with his secretary. But before very long he'd become distracted. Arlene had his hand clutched tightly between her thighs. Her hips were pumping and rolling and she was working herself toward a climax.
"Uh, look Maggie," Casey said, interrupting her. "I can't talk to you now. Stall them all as long as you can. I'll call you later or see you tomorrow in the office."
He hung up the phone and turned to smile down at Arlene. "You witch. You've got me all worked up again."
"Me, too, darling," she gasped, shuddering when Casey began to cooperate by manipulating her.
He changed hands and leaned over, resting on the other arm, so he could press his cheek against one of her smooth dimpled flanks. He kissed with his lips and she cried out softly.
Both her hands dived into his lap and in a moment she had him bared and prepared. Her lips closed about him. His eyes squeezed shut and he groaned lasciviously, his hand working her more feverishly.
She rolled over further so his hand was trapped between her pumping loins and the bed. Her mouth continued to caress him Now his lips had full access to the ice cream scoops of her buttocks. He kissed her everywhere.
"Ah, Casey, Casey. That's good. Soooo good."
"Hmmm," he mumbled directly into her flesh.
Her greedy mouth returned to him and her tongue whipped him to a frenzy. One of her hands clutched him tightly.
Casey leaped from her when the bedroom door swung open. Uncontrollable panic filled him as he tried desperately to fix his clothing. Standing in the doorway was Arlene's husband, Casey's best friend.
And Jack seemed just as embarrassed as Casey. "Oh!" he said, startled. He began to back out of the room.
"Wait Jack," Casey said. "This is not what... I mean... "
Casey couldn't find the words and the two men stared at one another across the space of the bedroom for an interminable time. Then the tension between them was broken by Arlene's high-pitched giggle.
"If you two could see yourselves now," she said between gasps of laughter. "Jack, you look like the eye who sees another eye through the keyhole. And Casey looks like he wants to die."
Casey's expression didn't change. He didn't know what to do. His mind seemed suddenly unable to function. But Jack gave him a sheepish grin and stepped into the room.
"Relax, Casey," Jack said. "I'm not going to play the outraged husband bit. If you've gotten this far Arlene has already explained about us. It's just that I didn't expect to find anyone here at this hour."
Casey wiped his suddenly feverish brow. "I don't know what to say, Jack."
"You don't have to say anything. I'm sorry I interrupted. I'll leave you two alone if you'd prefer."
"No! Don't go. We were just fooling around a little."
"Yeah," Arlene said. "But you should have seen us fifteen minutes ago."
Casey wanted to kill her. She didn't have to make things more awkward and difficult.
Jack said, "Casey, you'd better sit down before you collapse. And stop looking like you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar."
"Oh, I like that," Arlene crowed.
"Maybe we'd better go into the other room to discuss this," Casey said.
Jack shrugged and stepped aside to let Casey pass.
In the living room Jack poured drinks and waited for Casey to speak.
"I was looking for Judy," Casey began. "At the theater the doorman told me you and Arlene picked her up last night I called your office but you were in conference. So I called here. Arlene let something slip about you all having had too much to drink last night. Then she wouldn't tell me anything more over the phone so I came here."
Jack nodded. "Arlene is a blabbermouth. Judy should have been the one to tell you."
Casey shook his head. "No. I think it was better this way. If Judy had told me I would have reacted without thinking.,"
"Maybe. Anyway, now you know the whole story."
"Yes. And Arlene has me just about convinced that I'm the one who's all wrong. I don't know how it happened, Jack. Honestly. We just sort of ended up in the bedroom."
"Look, you don't have to apologize to me. Hell, especially not after last night. But that wasn't my fault either. By the time I found out it was Judy and not Arlene in my bed it was too late."
"I know. Arlene told me all about it. You know, this has got to be the craziest conversations ever to occur between two married men. Here we are both trying to apologize for making love to the other guy's wife."
"It is silly," Jack agreed. "And by the way, your wife is one hell of a fine broad in bed."
"Your wife isn't exactly an old-maid prude," Casey countered.
"Arlene certainly gave you her vote of confidence. Any time you want to dip into the old cookie jar again, feel free."
Before Casey could think of anything to say Arlene came stalking out of the bedroom. She was still fully naked. She crossed the room and plumped herself down on Casey's lap.
"If you two are finished discussing this thing like two British gentlemen," she said, "I've got some unfinished business." She squirmed in Casey's lap and buried his face between her firm fragrant breasts.
Casey, no longer embarrassed, pushed her off his lap and stood up. "You get your husband to take care of you," he said. "I've got to go find my wife."
Arlene shrugged and her breasts babbled. "I don't care who takes care of me," she said. "Just so long as I get taken care of." She went to her husband and slid into his lap.
Casey headed for the front door. He turned back for a moment and saw Arlene and her husband kissing passionately. Jack had one hand buried between her legs and with the other was kneading and squeezing one of her breasts. Casey grinned, shook his head, and left.
In a bar on the corner he phoned the apartment once again. Pearl informed him that Judy had neither come to the apartment, nor had she called. Casey checked his watch. It was almost five o'clock. He dialed the backstage phone at the theater but the line was busy.
It was the evening rush hour. The ant-like hordes filled the streets with bodies and automobiles. Finding a taxi was no cinch. Casey stood on the corner for ten minutes before he found an empty cab. He gave the driver the address of the theater.
The short ride took almost twenty minutes. Casey hardly noticed the time. He was too busy thinking about the surprising turn of events. It was still a shock to have discovered that Jack and Arlene and the others were swingers. Strangely, that was more shocking than the knowledge that Judy had participated the night before. He'd already accepted that bit of information. Maybe Arlene was right after all. Perhaps he could come to accept the swinging life.
Casey gave the cabby a dollar and a quarter for the eighty-five cent ride, went down the alley and entered the theater by the stage door. The old man was busy with one of the stage hands. He looked up when the door opened, then turned back to his task.
Casey went directly to Judy's dressing room. If she wasn't there she would soon be arriving and he was determined to wait for her. He opened the door without knocking and stepped inside.
A surprised gasp stopped him in his tracks. After a shocked second he slammed the door closed. On one side of the room there was an old beat-up sofa. On that sofa, as naked as a jaybird, was Patty Taylor.
The young actress had both her naked quivering legs high in the air and was reaching down between them with both hands. In her hands she was holding a peculiar piece of rubber molding.
She stared at Casey, frozen by surprise.
He stared back at her.
When the moment of shock had passed Patty Taylor rolled over to hide herself from his gaze. At precisely the same moment Casey turned his back.
"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry," he said. "I guess I should have knocked." He heard her moving behind him.
"Yeah," she snarled. "You should have knocked."
"I'm looking for Judy."
"She's not here."
"That's obvious. I want to wait for her. Should I leave for a minute?"
Patty sighed heavily. "It's a little late for that. You can turn around now."
Casey turned around Patty was sitting erect on the sofa clutching a light robe about her naked body.
Casey's eyes wandered about the room. He couldn't look at the girl or her awful implement. He fumbled in his jacket until he found his cigarettes.
"I'll take one of those," she said.
He shook one out of the pack for her and struck a light.
"Stop looking so damned foolish," Patty said. "If anyone should be embarrassed, it's me. What's the matter, didn't you ever hear of a girl taking care of herself before? We're no different from men. We do it, too."
Casey, at last, was able to look at the device. "I've never seen one of those before," he said.
"A friend of mine toured with a troupe in the Far East," Patty explained. "She brought back half a dozen of them and sold them around. It's not as good as the real thing, but it's the best substitute I ever tried. And believe me, I've tried some pretty weird things."
"Uh... maybe we ought to talk about something else," Casey said. He'd had too much of that sort of frank discussion for one day.
"What's the matter, lawyer man, is it getting to you?"
"No, no. It's just not the kind of thing you talk about with strangers."
"If I don't care why should you?"
"Maybe I'd better wait outside."
"Oh, stick around. Nobody's going to bite you.
I'm just sorry you didn't show up five minutes later, that's all."
"Well, you know, if I went out you could... ah... finish up."
"It wouldn't be the same now. Besides, I sort of enjoy an audience."
Casey gave her a small smile. "I gathered that much. You like to show off, don't you?"
"All actors are exhibitionists," she said. The hand holding the robe together relaxed. Patty changed position and the robe fell open all the way down. She made no move to draw her garment closed once again.
Casey looked away.
"Am I that ugly?" she asked.
"No."
"Don't you like to look at naked girls?"
"Yes."
"Then look and enjoy it."
"No. This is stupid. It can't lead to anything. What would be the point in getting excited?"
"If you don't know I can't tell you. And if you're not going to do anything for me, I'll have to take care of myself."
Without another word Patty slumped lower on the sofa, moving until her buttocks were right at the edge of tie cushion. She opened the robe wide, closed her eyes, and began to caress her breasts and loins.
"Uh, don't you want me to go?" Casey asked.
"I don't care what you do."
She spread her thighs wide. Casey stared, fascinated. He'd never heard of anything like this in his life.
First a group of marrieds who enjoy swapping wives and making love with relative strangers. Then a single girl who doesn't mind being watched while she pleasures herself.
Patty once again worked herself into a fever pitch. Casey, watching, could feel the heat rising in his body. She reached blindly, found the item of her desire, and brought it to herself.
Casey could not suppress a shocked gasp.
Her hips pumped and circled, and she worked with frantic speed.
Her sighing grew louder and louder, rising until it became a muffled cry of pleasure. Her body stiffened and arched. He could see the muscles of her belly and loins and things clenched spasmodically.
With a soft groan of satisfaction Patty sank back to the sofa. Her eyes opened, fixed on Casey, and her lips spread in a smile.
"You look like you're getting interested," Patty said in a deep throaty murmur.
Casey said nothing. He could not tear his eyes away from that object.
"Wish it was you?"
Still Casey didn't answer.
Patty reached down and put the thing to one side. Her legs remained opened.
"Come on, Casey," she urged softly. "Come on over here and get a little for yourself."
Casey was tempted but the temptation didn't last very long. A moment later Judy's clear voice cut through the air.
"I hope you two are enjoying yourselves," she said.
Patty snatched her robe closed about her body and Casey whirled in his chair to see his wife standing inside the door of the dressing room.
Judy, in complete control of herself and the situation, crossed the room while Casey and Patty watched and waited. Slowly and deliberately, she removed her coat and hat and placed them neatly on a chair. She opened her purse, took out a cigarette, lit it, and sat down.
"Do me a favor, Patty," she said finally. "Leave us alone for a while. We have something to discuss."
"Yeah, sure," Patty said, rising and belting the robe about her. At the door she turned back for a moment. "I know it looked kind of funny. But he never laid a finger on me. And it wasn't 'cause I didn't ask him to."
"It's all right, Patty," Casey said. "Just leave us alone."
The actress shrugged her shoulders and stepped out of the dressing room. For a long time Casey and Judy stared at one another, neither of them speaking.
Finally Judy asked, "Where'd you go last night?"
"First I got good and drunk. Then I figured I'd hide from you in the office."
"I called there."
"I didn't stay very long. Maggie was doing some work when I got there. I was sick. She helped me. She took me to her place. I spent the night."
"How'd you like her? Was she good?"
"I could ask you the same thing about Jack Hass."
"Oh,"
"Yeah, I know all about that. I came here this afternoon looking for you when I found out you hadn't been home all night. The doorman told me Jack and Arlene had been here. Arlene spilled the beans."
There was another long silence.
"Well," Judy said. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know."
"You have grounds for divorce," she said.
"So do you."
"Maggie?"
"Yes. And this afternoon there was Arlene. A couple of weeks ago there was Pearl. And before that a couple of hookers. And there's another woman you don't even know."
"You mean Eileen Dover?"
"How'd you know about her?"
"Arlene talked to her. She told me about it last night."
"Now you know about all of them."
"Jack wasn't the only one," Judy said. "Who were the others?"
"Does it really matter?"
"I don't know. How long has this been going on?"
"Not long. A couple of months, I guess."
"What happened to us, Judy? How did we get into this situation?"
"I've been trying to figure it out," she said "I guess we were both fooling ourselves. We were never honest with ourselves or with each other. You're the lawyer. What's the easiest way for us to get the divorce?"
"Will you stop talking about that? I don't want a 'divorce. That's too easy and it won't really solve anything."
"What else can we do?"
"Right now we can talk this whole thing out," Casey said. "Do you still love me?"
Judy nodded. "That's the awful part of it. I do still love you."
"It wasn't a bad marriage," Casey said. "Before we found out we were both cheating we were pretty good together. And nothing's really changed except now we both know the truth. The facts are still the same."
"Are you saying you want to try again?"
Casey nodded.
"But it can't be the way it was before," Judy said. "We've changed too much. We both know too much now."
"Arlene spent a couple of hours this afternoon trying to convince me how stupid I've been. She warned me if I didn't see the light I'd lose you. I don't want to lose you, Judy."
"It'll have to be a new relationship. Like Jack and Arlene have."
"I know," Casey said. "I think I can accept that, now. It's funny. I wasn't convinced until after Jack walked in on Arlene and me in the bedroom. It was kind of awkward at first. Then he and I had a long talk. He didn't try to convince me, or anything. But his whole attitude sort of changed my opinion. To tell you the truth I was more shocked by what he told me about the way he and Arlene lived than by the fact that you crawled into bed with him."
"Did Arlene show you the pictures?"
"Not the ones she took last night. She didn't think I was ready for them. Maybe she was right."
"How do you honestly feel about it? Jack and me, I mean."
"I don't know. I guess it's going to take a white for me to sort everything out. But I can tell you this. I don't feel the way I thought I'd feel. It hurt at first, then I saw how stupid that was."
"I told you how I felt about you and other women the other night," Judy said. "But I am surprised about Pearl. I thought you had better taste than that."
Casey grinned sheepishly. "She kind of caught me by surprise one afternoon when she was cleaning. I'd let her have a couple of drinks. The next thing I knew she had hold of me and wouldn't let go. She begged me for it."
Judy gave a short sharp bark of laughter. "Poor Casey, everybody uses him."
"I'll tell you. Pearl wasn't bad. A lot better than some women I've had."
"Including present company?"
"Certainly not."
"Good."
"It's not a matter of better," Casey said. "You always were the best and you still are. With other women it's like a different thing entirely."
"That's what I was trying to tell you the other night," Judy said. "And I'm sorry for some of the things I said. I was mad. I would have said anything to hurt you. I don't really feel that way."
"You mean about the apartment and the money?"
Judy nodded.
"Forget about that. What do we do now? Shake hands?"
"No, silly," Judy said, coming up out of her chair and gliding over to him. She bent forward from the hips and put both her hands in his lap. "I saw the expression on your face when Patty was giving you the business. You'd like to have her, wouldn't you?" "No," he said quickly. Then, "I don't know."
"Remember, from now on we have to be completely honest. Anyway, you're still showing some of the effects of her." Judy's hand tightened about him, gripping him through the material of his trousers.
"That's an automatic physical thing. I have no control over it. Patty's all right, I guess. But I'd rather have you."
"Why not both, darling?"
"You mean now? Right here?"
Judy nodded, her eyes gleaming. "I've told you how excited I get when I think about you with another woman. Do it for me, darling. It really drives me wild."
Casey let himself respond to the idea and to Judy's clever hands. He licked his passion-dried lips and nodded his head. Judy headed for the door.
"We'll surprise her," Judy said. "You go into the bathroom and take off your clothes. After you hear us come in wait a minute or two for her to take off her robe. Then come on out."
Judy left the room and Casey went into the bathroom. He trembled with excitement and expectation as he slipped out of his clothing. It was cool and damp in the bathroom and he felt a little funny standing there barefoot and naked.
He had his ear to the door and he heard them come into the dressing room.
"Maybe you'd better lock the door if we're going to change," Judy said.
"I don't care," Patty said. "I'm no prude."
"I'll feel better," Judy said.
"Oh, all right. Did you and Casey get things ironed out?"
"Yes."
"It was funny. When he walked in he caught me. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his skull. But he wouldn't touch me."
Casey didn't wait to hear any more. He silently opened the bathroom door. Patty, naked, had her back to him. Judy, seated in bra and panties, garterbelt and hose, saw him but didn't change her expression.
Casey stepped up behind Patty, fitted himself between her naked buttocks and reached both arms around her body. She stiffened and gave out with a muffled scream. Then, turning her head to look over her shoulder, she saw him and relaxed.
Excitement pounded through Casey. Patty's hot nakedness and her sudden willingness added fuel to the flames of his desire.
Patty turned her head and looked at Judy. "I don't understand what's happening," she said. "But I don't care. I've wanted some of this man for a long time, and if you don't mind, I'm going to enjoy it."
"You enjoy it, darling," Judy said. "I'm going to watch for a while, then maybe I'll join you."
With a soft shuddering sigh Patty turned to face Casey. She pressed the front of her body against him. He could feel the hard points of her breasts and the flaxen wisp between her hips.
"Come on, lover," she growled, pushing him back toward the couch. "Let's make it" She stretched out and pulled him down beside her. It took him only a moment to learn that she was fully aroused.
"Don't waste any time," she cried softly, opening her body to him. "It's only a little more than an hour to curtain time."
Casey, peculiarly and acutely aware of his watching wife, lowered himself to Patty. She cocked her hips and accepted him with a passionate groan. One lunge of his hips and he went deeply to her.
They began to move together, slowly, savoring every moment of the delightful friction. Casey turned his head and saw Judy tearing off her clothes as she stared with hot and hungry eyes.
When Judy was naked she came and knelt beside the couch. "Lift yourself up on your arms," she ordered.
And when Casey lifted himself Judy reached between him and Patty and cupped one of Patty's quivering breasts. Casey dropped his head and watched his wife's hand clutching and caressing the other girl's breast. Judy's slim fingers stroked the nipple, caressed the entire curved surface.
"Oh, God!" Patty groaned. "This is too much. I love it. I can't stand it." A quick series of clenching spasms struck her body as she experienced her first peak.
Judy leaned closer and pressed her hot naked breasts against Casey's side. Her other hand went to his buttocks and caressed there.
He thought the top of his head was going to come right off, so intense was the sensation of pleasure.
And Judy wasn't finished yet. While she pleased him with one hand and Patty with the other she leaned her head forward and placed her firm moist lips against his bobbing flank.
It was more than Casey could bear. "Look out," he groaned. "Look out. Here I come."
The entire center section of his body, his whole torso, seemed to explode all at once. And there was an echo of the detonation inside his skull. He felt himself pulse and throb deep inside Patty. Skyrockets went off inside his head.
When she felt the hot surge of has passion Patty reached a second orgasm. At the peak of her ecstasy she turned her face to Judy and reached up to kiss Judy full on the mouth.
Casey, limp and exhausted, rolled away. Judy leaped into the position he'd just vacated. She lay between Patty's bent legs and ground herself down against the willing girl. Their breasts crushed together, nipples mingling. They kissed wildly, groaning, writhing, touching.
The sight of the two pretty women in Sapphic embrace had a curious effect on Casey. He became immediately aroused again. He rose to his feet and approached the sofa.
His hands reached down and palmed Judy's buttocks. He spread the cheeks apart, put himself between them, and lunged with all his strength. Judy screamed but the sound was muffled by Patty's mouth.
Casey stabbed deep. After a moment or two her initial pain subsided and she began to enjoy the double sensation.
All three of them took pleasure together. And the culmination burst upon them all at the same time. For Judy the sensation was so great that she passed out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Casey Tompkins was greeted by a strange and peculiar lethargy. It was as though he were completely enveloped in an invisible blanket of insulation. At the office and at home he merely went through the motions.
Judy hadn't noticed. But Maggie had questioned him several times, even suggesting he see a doctor.
Casey didn't want to see a doctor. He didn't want to see anyone. With the enormous change in his personal life nothing seemed important in his business life.
For more than ten days following the torrid session in the dressing room Casey was content to remain at home in the evenings. Judy would take a taxi from the theater after the performance. Immediately upon her arrival she and Casey would make wild, violent love. Then, once again before they went to sleep they would love.
Casey filled his role. He made his wife very happy. And he, himself, was not unhappy. But he was tired much of the time and his fatigue had nothing whatever to do with any daily activity. He was dog tired even when he spent an entire Sunday lazing around the house.
And he could sleep like never before. Almost every evening he would sleep for two or three hours before Judy came home. And, after they would finish with their lovemaking he was good for another eight or nine hours. Not enough, he'd taken to napping for twenty minutes to an hour on the couch in his office in the middle of the afternoon.
With dull mechanical gestures he moved through the day. No enthusiasm. No drive. No real interest in anything. A couple of juicy cases slipped right through his fingers and he only shrugged.
And then, one Friday afternoon at two, Judy phoned him at the office.
"Darling, there's going to be a party tomorrow night"
"That's nice."
"Casey, this is going to be a swinging party at Eileen Dover's country house. Half a dozen couples including us. We're going to ride up with Jack and Arlene after the show. The others will have been there for a couple of hours."
"Sounds like fun," Casey said.
"It will be, darling. Arlene tells me these parties are the wildest things in the world. Don't make any plans for Sunday, or for Monday morning. If things go well, we may be there a while."
"Yes, darling."
Casey hung up and buzzed for Maggie. The secretary came in with her notebook and pencil. Ever since that night he'd spent with her she'd taken to wearing provocative clothing. And at every opportunity during working hours she was close to him, pressing herself against him, letting him smell her perfume, crossing her legs, arching her back. But they'd never spoken about that night, nor had they made any plans for future nights.
This day Maggie was wearing one of the new short skirts that came only to mid-thigh. Her blouse was short-sleeved and had a neckline that plunged deep between her breasts.
She came into the office with an expectant smile, sat down across the desk from him, and crossed her legs. The extremely short skirt rode higher on her legs, revealing bare flesh above the dark tops of her stockings, and showing the frilly garters attached to her stocking tops and to her garter belt.
Casey glanced at her, hardly noticing the display she put on for him. He sat tilted back in his swivel chair, staring at a crack in the ceiling.
"Do I have any appointments for the weekend?" he asked.
"One interview for Sunday afternoon. It's the suit for damages. You remember, that plate glass window that shattered?"
"Oh, yeah, I remember. Change it. Any day next week except Monday. My wife and I are going away for the weekend and might not be back until Monday afternoon."
Maggie scribbled a note. "Is that all?" Casey nodded.
But Maggie didn't get up from her chair and leave the office. She sat and stared at her employer for a long time. Finally, she spoke.
"Casey, look at me."
He dropped his head down and looked at her.
"No, I mean really look. See me. Something's happened to you, and I don't like it. I don't know what it is and you're certainly not obligated to tell me. But it's not like it was before. I don't like working for you any more."
Something in the tone of her voice seemed to get through to him. He sat up straight in his chair and leaned forward with his elbows on the desk.
"You're not thinking about quitting?"
"I am."
"But, Maggie, why... Oh, I think I understand. It's about that night at your apartment."
"That's part of it, but not the way you think," she told him. "I'm not mad at you for that night. I wanted you and it was wonderful. But you just haven't been the same man since that night. I don't know if it's me or that argument you had with your wife. It doesn't matter which. Even when you're here in the office I might as well be alone. I don't expect you to love me or marry me or anything like that. I explained once before that I'd be satisfied with a little attention now and then. But you don't even notice me."
"Of course I notice you. That's nonsense."
"Is it? Have I changed my hairdo in the last two weeks? Do you notice anything different about me at all?"
Casey looked at her and tried to see something new. He failed. She saw that failure written across his face.
"See?"
Casey swiveled his chair around, smiled warmly at her, and patted has leg. "Come over here and sit on your boss' lap," he told her.
She hesitated and be could see a blush of desire suffuse her cheeks.
"Come on," he cajoled.
"Maybe I'd better lock the door, first. How would it look if a client came in?"
He nodded and she crossed the room to close and lock the inner office door. When she crossed back toward him she licked her lips nervously. She slid the tight skirt higher on her legs and dropped gently into his lap.
He put one hand on the curve of her rump and the other on the thrust of one breast. She trembled slightly.
"I guess I haven't been very pleasant, Maggie. And I can't really explain it -- even to myself. But it's not your fault. It has nothing to do with you. I don't want you to quit. I need you."
"There must be hundreds of other girls who could do my job."
"No. It's you I need, Maggie. And it's more than just the job. You haven't been with me very long. What is it? A month? Two months?"
"Six weeks," she said a little breathlessly as she leaned her breast harder into his cupping palm.
"All right, six weeks. But if you walked out on me now I might as well close the office. I couldn't get along without you. If it's a matter of money, maybe I could find some way to give you a raise."
"Oh Casey, it's not the money. It never was the money. It's you."
He dropped his hand from her breast, put it on her leg, and slid it up beneath her skirt. The damp smooth flesh of her inner thighs quivered to the caress of his fingertips. She gave a short cry of need and slumped against him.
"Then don't leave me, Maggie. Stay. Give me a chance to work myself out of this muddle."
"Oh, God, Casey, I want you so badly. I'm burning up. I won't leave. I couldn't leave. But don't talk anymore, darling.. Kiss me. Take off my clothes. Make love to me."
He removed her blouse and bra and she arched her back to pop one breast into his mouth. At the first touch of his lips against the sensitive bud of the nipple she began to sigh and groan. While he kissed and sucked one breast he squeezed the other. Then he switched.
She twined her fingers in his hair, caressed his cheeks, kissed his face, and murmured words of love and passion.
They moved from the chair to the leather sofa. He removed the rest of her clothing and she lay back on the squeaky cushions nude and exposed and trembling with eagerness.
He removed his own clothing and went to her. His hand explored and told him she was ready. Her arms and legs embraced him. With one smooth stroke he sheathed himself.
Moments later she shrieked with pleasure as her body experienced a series of hunching spasms.
Casey wasn't sure what it was about it, but making love to Maggie that afternoon seemed to free him from the doldrums in which he'd languored. He made love to her three times in the course of the afternoon, and each time it was better. After the third and final time Maggie's eyes were swimming with pleasure.
Casey could not help laughing when she suggested they get a larger sofa, even perhaps a sleeper for the inner office.
Friday night was uneventful except that Judy did not demand loving when she came home from the theater.
Casey slept late Saturday morning and spent most of the afternoon watching a ball game on television. He took Judy to the theater at six that evening, went to get himself some dinner, then returned about nine. He waited backstage in the dressing room for the performance to end.
Patty Taylor, who had a much smaller part than Judy's was in and out of the dressing room a half dozen times. And she took every opportunity to expose and offer herself to Casey. He was aroused but not interested. He didn't want to deplete himself with such an important party in the offing. It wouldn't do for him to put on a poor performance the first time they swung.
The two and one-half hours from nine to eleven-thirty seemed to take a year and a week. Finally he heard the applause signaling the final curtain and a few minutes later Judy came back to the dressing room.
Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation and excitement. She kissed him briefly on the cheek and proceeded to slip out of her costume. She donned a light robe to sit down and remove her make-up.
There was a knock at the door. Casey, thinking it was Jack and Arlene, opened the door and a stranger entered.
Judy looked up at him in the mirror and said, "Yes? What can I do for you?"
The man reached into his inner jacket pocket and took out a business card. Judy looked at it and Casey could see sudden interest in her demeanor.
"My name is Gold, Benjamin Gold," the man said. "And, as you can see from my card, I represent International Pictures. I was very impressed with your performance. International would like you to take a screen test. But it's merely a formality. We're prepared to offer you a two-year exclusive contract."
"At what pay?" Casey asked.
"Are you her agent?" Gold wanted to know.
"I'm her husband," Casey said.
"I'm permitted to offer eight hundred a week, plus certain expenses."
"What about her contract with this show?"
"I'm sure we can get her out of that. International has quite a chunk invested in this production." Gold laughed. "In fact, in a way, we already employ her."
"You two are talking like I'm not even here," Judy said. "In the first place, Mr. Gold, I'm not even sure I'm interested in a contract with a movie company. And in the second, you'd have to discuss all the details with my agent. A lot would depend, I'm sure, on the specific terms of the contract. You know -- how many movies, publicity obligations, choice of script, things like that. I'm doing very well here on Broadway, Mr. Gold. And unless the offer is very attractive indeed I really don't see why I should make a change."
Gold grinned at her reflection in the mirror. "You're a shrewd business woman. I'll contact your agent and work out the details with him. Thank you for seeing me."
When he was gone Judy gave a small shriek of excited pleasure, leaped up off her chair, and threw herself into his arms.
"Oh, darling, this is it. A contract! Hollywood!" She kissed his face and smeared him with grease paint.
Casey's reaction was entirely different. But he didn't spoil the moment for Judy. He didn't want her to sign the contract. He didn't want her to go off to Hollywood and leave him alone here in the city. He wanted to be more important in her life than her career.
Jack and Arlene arrived a few moments later. Arlene, in a nearly topless cocktail dress, came over to Casey to be kissed. And during the kiss she rubbed her hand against the front of his trousers. Jack, meanwhile, went over to stand behind Judy. He reached one hand over her shoulder, reached down to push her robe aside, and cupped one beautiful breast.
Casey could see the whole thing in the mirror. He saw that alien hand and he saw Judy's eyes go smoky with desire.
Judy dressed and they hurried out to Jack's car. On the long ride up to Eileen Dover's country house Judy sat up front with Jack and Arlene sat in back with Casey. Once they were out of heavy traffic the redhead pulled the top of her dress down to bare her breasts and insisted on opening Casey's trousers. They toyed with one another, neither of them wanting to finish before they got to the party.
Up front Judy was telling Jack about Mr. Gold and the contract offer.
The Dover country house was a Tudor-style mansion set well back from a narrow side road and concealed from view by a thick grove of trees which seemed to run the perimeter of the property.
There was a gate and a phone and a ten-foot chain link fence. The gate was looked and Jack got out to phone up to the house. A moment later there was a loud whirr of an electric motor and the gate opened.
Jack drove in and Casey looked out the back window to see the gate closing again. There were two cars already parked in the driveway and the house was ablaze with light. When they neared the front door they could hear music and laughter and noise.
Jack didn't bother to knock. He'd been at these parties before. He pushed the front door open and ushered the others inside. The house seemed even bigger inside. They were in a two-story, stone-floored entrance hallway. The walls were paneled in oiled ancient woods, intricately carved. Each panel was a complete mural. There were hunting scenes, pastorals. In one panel a troubadour was serenading a lady in her bath. It was almost erotic.
All the noise was coming from somewhere off to the right. But Jack led them to the foot of the staircase leading up. "Let's go up and get ready before we meet the others," he said.
They went upstairs.
"Find yourselves empty bedrooms and take off your clothes, gang. We'll meet back here in a couple of minutes and all go down together."
"I like that idea," Arlene said with a licentious giggle.
They all went into separate bedrooms. Casey crossed to the bed and sat down. There was still time to change his mind. He and Judy could still back out.
Before he'd so much as opened his tie the door opened and Judy came into the room. She was stripped to the skin and he could see the lust and excitement in her eyes.
"Come on, darling. Hurry. They're waiting for us."
"We don't have to do this," he told her. "It's not too late."
"Oh, Casey," she wailed softly. "I thought we had all this settled."
"All right, all right, give me a minute."
He stripped off his clothes. Judy smiled, came to him, pressed her smooth hot naked body against him, and kissed him full on the mouth. One of her hands found him and toyed with him.
Just before they stepped out of the room she whispered, "Have a good time, darling. The more you enjoy it, the more I will."
Jack and Arlene were waiting for them at the head of the stairs. The two couples went down together. Jack led them through the center hallway and down a short corridor. He pushed open a pair of double doors and there were shouts of greeting.
The other eight people were all naked, too. Eileen and two of the other women Casey had seen or met before at various social functions. The fourth woman was a total stranger. All the women were over thirty. But they were all in good condition. There wasn't a dog in the bunch.
The four men were another story. They were all in their early to middle forties. Ben Dover, with his hairy bear-like body was by far in the best physical condition. The others were fatter, flabbier, balder.
Casey glanced at Judy. Her face betrayed no sign of regret at toe sight of the four middle-aged men.
Ben and Eileen came over to them. Ben shook hands with the two men, then took both girls off to introduce them to the other men. Eileen took Casey's hand and with Jack following close behind, led him over to introduce him to the other women.
Casey smiled at them and promptly forgot their names. The impact of all that nakedness had his senses whirling. And the others were ail more than a Utile drunk.
The last woman to whom Casey was introduced was the one he'd never seen before. She was sitting on a sofa. She smiled when she heard his name, then very calmly reached out, took him in her hand, and drew him toward her.
Before Casey realized what was happening her hands were behind him clutching his buttocks and she was caressing him with a hot kiss. The shock of such blatant behavior was almost more than he could bear.
One of the others spotted what she was doing, called it to everyone's attention. There were cheers of encouragement and shouted words of advice to both Casey and the woman.
Eileen Dover came to Casey's rescue. She extricated him from the woman's clutches, claiming that since he was new to the group she would have first honors with him.
She drew him off to one side. "You don't look like you're enjoying all this," she said.
"It's a little too much to take all at once."
"Come with me," she said. "You'll be more comfortable if we're alone for a while."
They went back upstairs and down the corridor to the master bedroom. It was exquisitely furnished. The only thing out of place was the large blank television set banging from brackets in the ceiling.
Casey's passion was well aroused. He needed no urging to take Eileen Dover in his arms and ease her down to the bed.
"TMs time," he growled, "there's no maid around to get between us."
She laughed throatily and drew his face down to her breasts. She let him linger there only a moment. His hand found her drenched with lust. She put her hands on top of his head and pushed downward.
He did not resist, knowing what she wanted of him. It was the same service he'd seen performed for her that evening so long ago. Her thighs were smooth and soft against his cheeks. His nostrils were filled with the musk of her aroused womanhood.
His lips kissed and his tongue drove deep.
She cried out with pleasure, released his head, and reached down with both hands.
Casey enjoyed pleasuring her, but not to the extent that he forgot his own needs. He twisted his hips around on the bed and nudged her shoulder with his knee.
She got the idea. She lifted one of his legs and brought it over her face to the other side.
He waited expectantly for her to begin.
There was the warmth of her breath upon his sensitive flesh. And then the sharp spasm and she flicked him with her tongue. Finally her hands reached up to cover his buttocks and she pulled him down.
Her expert mouth drove him to renewed vigor. His body tingled and burned as he pleasured her and was pleasured in return.
They worked themselves quickly to climax. For Casey it wasn't the way he'd expected. There was no soft period of relaxation afterward. He sat up immediately.
"Maybe we ought to go down and join the others," he said.
Eileen laughed. "You're worried about that wife of yours, aren't you?"
"No. Not at all. I'd just like to see what's happening down there."
"We can do that from here, darling," Eileen told him. " Closed-circuit television. There are cameras in every room of the house and they're all hooked into a master recorder. What's happening down there is being taped right now."
Casey was shocked. "Do the others know?"
"Not all of them. But it shouldn't make any difference. People perform better when they don't think they're being photographed. Afterward we'll show the tape and they'll all howl with laughter."
"You said we could watch from here."
"Yes. Are you sure you want to watch? Arlene has explained most of the situation to me."
"I don't know what I want," Casey said. "But there's no point in putting it off any longer."
Casey leaned back against the pillows at the head of the bed. Eileen rolled over and touched a many-dialed control panel on the nightstand on her side of the bed.
The television set hanging from the ceiling came on. The screen began to glow as the set warmed up. The sound came on first but without the accompanying picture the sounds were meaningless.
There was a moment or two of flickering, then the image on the screen cleared and settled down. Eileen rolled over against him and reached down to hold him in her hand.
The first thing Casey saw was three naked female bodies. They were writhing together and when they parted for a moment Casey saw that Jack Hass was happily trapped among them. One of the women was straddling his hips and riding like it was the Kentucky Derby. Her fat buttocks were jiggling and her breasts were bouncing. Another woman was straddling Jack's face and there was a look of complete and utter bliss written across her expression.
The third woman, Casey saw, was Jack's wife, Arlene. She was standing beside the shoulder of the woman straddling Jack's hips. That woman's head was turned toward her and the face was hidden between the redhead's quivering thighs.
The sight was monstrously erotic. Casey felt himself responding to the visual stimulation as well as to the caress of Eileen's rhythmically gripping hand. He reached down to cup one of her breasts, then rolled slightly on his hip and buried his other hand between her thighs.
Then he turned back to the screen. The three men and his own wife were nowhere in sight.
"Where are the others?" he asked.
"Let's find out." she answered.
Her hand reached for the control panel. She pressed button after button and the scene on the screen shifted from room to room.
Finally they found them. Casey gasped and stared.
He forgot all about Eileen. He forgot everything but the scene before him.
There was a big bed. One of the men, Casey didn't know which one, was stretched out on his back in the center. Judy, smiling with anticipation, her eyes blazing with lust was straddling his hips. She was in the act of lowering herself to the man.
There was still space between them. She lowered further and they touched.
"No!" Casey cried out, unable to control himself.
But they didn't hear.
"Hush," Eileen said, taking a tight hold on him. There's nothing you can do now. It's too late."
And it was indeed, too late. In another half second Judy had impaled herself upon the rampant lust of the supine man. Her eyes were half-lidded and a look of drugged passion spread across her face. She was very obviously enjoying every moment of it.
Suddenly Casey realized he could hear, too.
"You're hot as hell," the man was saying. "You witch, you're driving me crazy. I don't know how long I can hold back."
"Don't hold back," Judy shrilled. "Give me everything."
"Oh, you're going to get everything, all right," another masculine voice said. "Yes, yes!"
Another man, it was Ben Dover, came into the picture. He pushed Judy forward until she was stretched out along the length of the man beneath her. Ben Dover knelt behind Judy, caressed her buttocks for a brief moment, then eased himself to her.
"Oh God!" she screamed. "Oh God."
And Casey could hear that scream echoing silently inside his skull.
But it wasn't a scream of pain or protest. Judy was merely giving voice to the intensity of the sensation.
When Dover had buried himself completely in her the three of them formed a kind of sandwich. Judy was the slab of meat and the two men were the slices of bread.
They all moved together and Judy continued to scream out her pleasure and need.
Now the third man came into the picture. He crawled up onto the bed, and lay down on his hip beside the shoulder of the man on the bottom. Judy turned her head toward him, stared into his loins for a moment, then leaned toward him. Her mouth opened.
The man lifted himself closer to help her.
She gave a loud greedy moan when her mouth closed about the third man. And at the sound of that moan something snapped inside Casey.
There was no rage, no anger, only a deep, painful disappointment. He felt as though some invisible hand had scooped all the insides out of his body, leaving him hollow and empty. Only the pain rattled about inside his empty body.
He knew then that it was irretrievably and permanently finished.
Casey disengaged himself from Eileen's embrace and slipped from the bed. He ignored her pleas and demands as she followed Mm down the corridor to the room where he'd left his clothes.
Mechanically. Casey dressed. He found the room where Jack's clothes were and took the car keys.
"You'd better open the gate," he told Eileen.
"I won't."
"I'll drive right through the damned thing."
"I'll open the gate."
None of the others saw him go out to the car, get in, and drive slowly away. He was in complete control of himself. The big gate swung closed behind him, and he turned toward the highway.
It was a long drive back to town and Casey had plenty of time to think.
It was finished and the best way was a clean break. The divorce would hurt them both, but they'd recover. Judy could take her Hollywood contract.
Casey would find himself a small apartment somewhere. Eventually there would be another woman. There would be children and a home. He would forget Judy.
At three in the morning he pulled into a service area on the turnpike. While the car was being gassed he made a phone call. The phone rang four times before it was answered.
"Hello," came Maggie's sleepy voice from the other end. "Hello. Hello."
