In his book, the sexually promiscuous male, Benjamin Morse writes: inline, to a degree, with the overemphasis on sex in modem society is the tendency to view sexual promiscuity as the mark of the well-rounded man, a component of sophistication and basic in the picture of a man who gets the most out of life. We tend to equate happiness and well-being for males with promiscuity." The CIA however, regarded Genghis' promiscuity as the mark of a good agent-he had all the qualifications, and some intriguing equipment as well ...!
CHAPTER ONE
With me and more than a hundred other not-so-fearless young G.I.s trapped in her belly, the thunder and fire-belching Boeing 707 screamed away from Travis Air Force Base on her way to Saigon. The huge, winged dragon ex machina made three short fuel stops along the great-circle route-Anchorage, Tokyo, and Manila but we poor slobs were allowed to stretch our legs and get our blood recirculating only at Anchorage's small airport, where it was cold enough to make a polar bear shiver and where the terminal was an out-and-out abortion, with a souvenir shop that peddled nothing but junk at shaft-the-visitor prices and with a john that was stuffed with stunted, woolly Eskimos, for Chrissake.
Twenty-two butt-busting hours after taking off from Travis, the Boeing 707 touched down at Saigon's Tan Son Nhut Airport. Officers, then civilians, then we G.I.s deplaned, and gladly so, all of us being pretty sick of just sitting and sitting, until we found out what we were stepping out into: an oven. The air was so hot and humid it was like a liquid being poured continuously over us, getting into our clothes and soaking into our pores.
We were formed into columns and led into the huge terminal to stand, still in columns, and wait. We didn't know just what we were waiting for. Curiosity's a concept foreign to the military mind; you're not supposed to wonder why you're waiting. Only if you have to know are you told, and we didn't have to know.
With nearly a year of army service behind me, I'd already done plenty of seemingly purposeless waiting, so I didn't particularly mind waiting this time. You get used to doing it. I guess it's a sort of tradition; you do more waiting in the army than you do doing.
We were allowed to put our duffel bags down on the floor beside ourselves, which was a relief. Holding two duffel bags-one filled with outfits and personal effects, the other with combat items-gets to be a drag on the arm muscles pretty fast.
After about ten minutes of just standing and waiting, I was tempted to sit down on the softer of my duffel bags.
Like I said, I don't mind waiting; but I do mind wailing in a standing position like a goddamn status.
Knowing it was a mistake, that I'd wind up getting screamed at by some sergeant with the strength and the face and the brains of a retarded gorilla, I nevertheless did start to sit down; but one of the natives a girl, and a damned good-looking one-saved me from doing so.
I happened to be at the butt end of the one of the columns, which made it easy for the girl to approach me. Just as I was about to plant my ass, she tapped me on the shoulder from behind. I did a fast, thoroughly unmilitary about-face and stared at her-or rather, to be precise, stared down at her.
The people of Vietnam tend to be short, and this girl was no exception. The top of her head didn't reach any higher than the middle of my chest, and my height's not a lot greater than the height of the average American guy.
Short as she was, the girl was far from scrawny. I felt that before confirming it with my eyes; the girl was standing flush against me, and her ample tits were pressing against my stomach.
The third thing I noticed about the girl was that, as I mentioned before, she was damned good-looking. Her hair-black, of course-was so long that in back it reached down all the way to her plump, shapely butt. Her face, in an almost child-like way, was all softness and warmth and let-me-be-nice-to-you. Her complexion was olive-tan, smooth almost to the point of flawlessness, and sensually appealing in a low-keyed, undemanding sort of way.
I wondered briefly if she were a Viet Cong or a Cong sympathizer. I decided that she wasn't likely to be either, because if she were, lacking proper identification, she'd have had to have sneaked through one of the airport gates and into the terminal, and with all the military police around that wouldn't have been easy.
"Whadaya want?" I asked.
I smiled warmly at her ... very warmly. With her right up against me as she was, I was fast getting the hots for her. I could feel the heat of her flat tummy against my loins, and it felt good. In fact, it felt a little too good. My love tube was quivering tentatively, and I knew it was getting ready to point the way west.
"I love you, G.I.," the girls said, returning my smile. "You love me, no?"
"Of course," I told her, in a voice as even and as quietly intense as hers had been.
Her left hand touched my right hand. She pressed a small slip of paper between my fingers.
"What's that?" I asked.
"I go," the girl said, the smile on her lips dying. "You read him."
She started to step back, but I quickly pushed the slip of paper into my pocket then grabbed her wrists.
"Where you go?" I asked her. "I mean, where're you going?" I silently laughed at myself for having slipped into her exotic brand of English "You read him," she repeated.
And then the inevitable happened: "Hey!" screamed the sergeant I'd already prophetically described in my mind. "What's going on back there?"
"I go," the girl again told me, nervously this time, as she managed to wrench free of my grasp. "You read him." The tone of her voice told me she was awfully anxious to impress me with the need to read the note she'd slipped me.
Hurrying toward us, the sergeant bellowed, "Hey, you! Stay right where you are, girl!"
"She wasn't doing anything, sarge," I said, when the sergeant had come close enough so that I could speak to him in a reasonably quiet, civilized voice.
"I'll be the judge of that, soldier. Just what the hell were you and her doing?"
"I motioned for her to come to me." A bald-faced lie, I admit it, but I wasn't about to tell the ape the truth. "I asked her if she could speak English, I just wanted to talk to one of the natives is all."
"Funny way you were talking to her, if you ask me. Looked to me more like you were trying to feel her up. And lemme tell you something, soldier; this ain't no goddamn whorehouse here. You find you a whore when you get to your unit."
"It wasn't anything like that, sarge. All I was doing was talking to her."
"Yeah, well, don't let it happen again ... hear?"
"Anything you say, sarge. I can't tell you how sorry I am about getting out of line. I'm so ashamed of myself."
"You smart-mouthing me, punk?"
"Why, no, sarge. What makes you think I'm doing that?"
"Bet you're one of them Berkeley creeps, aren't you?"
"I've never been to Berkeley in my life, sarge."
"Yeah, well, that may be, but I still think you're a punk. I bet you think you're smarter than me, don't you?"
"I refuse to answer that question on the grounds that I might incriminate myself."
"What? What're you talking about, punk?"
"Look, sarge, I wasn't doing anything to the girl, and the girl wasn't doing anything to me. Why don't you let her be on her way?"
The sergeant muttered something I couldn't catch, then faced the girl. "Go peddle your ass somewhere else," he told her, his eyes sweeping over her figure.
I watched the intriguing twitch-twitch-twitch of the girl's butt as she walked away. I hope I'd get a chance to see those sizable cheeks naked, the press of them against the native silk-looking black "pajamas" she was wearing fired my imagination-and not just my imagination.
Nolens volens-ask your lawyer, pal-I shifted the line of my vision from the girl's butt to the sergeant's face. "Why do you keep calling the girl a prostitute, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked.
"I didn't call her no pross-tee-toot, punk. I called her a whore. And that's what she is."
"And how the hell do you know that?" I was getting mad at the pea-brained dope.
"How the hell do I know? 'Cause I got brains, punk. That's how the hell I know. They're all whores, every last one of 'em. All these gook girls is whores. They turn into 'em the minute they see a hair growing on their pussies."
"That's, a pretty stupid statement."
"Yeah? Like hell it is. I been in this here country a lot longer than you have, punk; I know what I'm talking about. They don't none of 'em know nothing but whoring. Their mothers bring 'em up that way, teach 'em how to peddle it for as much money as they can get."
"That's even stupider than what you said before."
"Hell, I don't think you'd know what to do with a whore if she pushed it into your face."
That comment really angered me. I wasn't a virgin, and I didn't like being called one. I'd gone the hole route plenty of times.
"Just get away from here and stop bothering me," I said.
"What you're looking for, punk, is a fist in the face, and I've a good mind to give it to you."
"Good mind? Hell, sarge, you haven't got any kind of mind."
"You're asking for it, punk," the sergeant said, his face reddening.
"I wouldn't try anything stupid, sarge. I'd have you knocked out on the floor before you knew what happened to you."
Like most big mouths this ape was only a blustering coward. What I said scared him.
"Hell, you're not worth the trouble, anyway," he said, and turned around and walked off.
I fished in my pocket for the note the girl had given me. It read, "Meet me in the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel tonight at nine." I put the note back into my pocket. Tonight at nine ... I hoped I'd get the chance.
"All right, everybody," the sergeant called out, "I'm gonna start calling out your names one at a time. Everybody's name'll be followed by a number. The number tells you what truck to go to-right outside; each truck has a number marked on its back. As soon as your name's called, go outside and climb into the back of your truck, and take your gear with you.
"Everybody understand?"
The truck, I and a dozen or so other G.I.s were sardined into was a small military pickup. In the pickup's bed, near the cab and at each side, were three wooden benches for us to sit on. Wire netting reached up about six feet from the sides, front, and back of the bed, and the "roof' was covered with the same wire netting-to protect us from terrorists' grenades, I guessed.
We were driven to a place called Camp Alpha, a group of squat, makeshift buildings inside a tall wire fence on the outskirts of Saigon. After turning in our records, which we'd brought over from the States, and going through a lot of bureaucratic paper work, we were issued bedding and assigned bunks in the crowded buildings, then told to turn in our greenbacks and coins for military scrip.
Before leaving the States, I'd learned from a buddy of mine who'd already been to Vietnam that greenbacks could be exchanged on the black market in Saigon at the rate of a hundred ninety to two hundred piasters per buck. Since I knew too that the official exchange rate was only a hundred eighteen piasters per buck, I kept most of my greenbacks, turning in only a few-to get my name on the list of those who'd exchanged their money-for military scrip.
At the same time that I traded some of my money for military scrip, I also traded some of it for piasters, since I wanted enough piasters to keep me until I could get to Saigon and buy piasters at the black-market rate. I knew that dealing with the black market was illegal, but I knew too that I didn't intend to cheat myself; and, to my way of thinking, anybody's cheating himself who pays a buck for a hundred eighteen piasters when he can get as many as two hundred piasters to the same buck.
After making up my bunk, I showered, shaved, put on civilian clothes in place of the khaki dress uniform I'd been wearing, then walked through the front gates and out of Camp Alpha. We'd all been told we couldn't leave Camp Alpha, but I never had been one to obey what I considered unnecessary orders if I could help it. The buddy of mine I've already mentioned had told me I'd be at Camp Alpha at least three days awaiting assignment to a permanent outfit, and he'd also told me I'd have no trouble getting past the guards and walking out of Camp Alpha if I did my damnedest to look as if I "owned the crummy joint." It worked like a charm-to coin a cliche. Both of the guards, recent arrivals in Vietnam themselves, were too afraid I might be a temperamental officer permanently assigned to Camp Alpha to halt me and ask to see identification proving I was assigned to Camp Alpha.
Outside the camp I walked up the dirt road to a beer bar. Well, it wasn't exactly a beer bar-or any other kind of bar, for that matter-at least, not by American standards. It was an enclosed area behind and adjacent to a native home. Several rickety wicker chairs on the dirt floor were provided for G.I.s wishing to stop in and drink a few Ba Muoi Bas or "Cocas."
I had my choice of the chairs, since no other G.I.s were in the "bar" at the time. A tasty-looking little beauty came out of the house proper, and I paid her thirty ps for a Ba Muoi Ba, which was promptly lifted out of a top-opening cooler and given to me along with a smile.
I returned the smile then took a quick swig of the beer.
The girl sat down in the wicker chair next to the one I was sitting in. "You long time Vietnam?" she asked.
I took another swig of the beer then set the bottle down in the dirt beside my chair. My eyes took in the girl's figure, lingering over the diminutive but alluring curves of her hips and titties.
"Me no do," she said, knowing what I had in mind.
At that moment a little boy came into the "bar" and asked me, "You want girl, G.I.?"
"Sure do," I told him.
"You come me; I take you. Okay?"
"Okay."
I quickly finished my beer then followed the little boy across and farther up the road. He led me into a run-down house. Two young girls were sitting on the floor playing some sort of card game; they looked up at me and smiled.
"Hi," I said.
They returned my greeting.
"Which one you like?" the little boy asked me.
I nodded at the smaller of the two, who was the cutest, though the other one was by no means homely.
"You no like me?" the one I hadn't chosen said, frowning.
"Of course, I do, beautiful."
"Why you pick Mai Lan? You like me; you pick Mai Lan. I no unnerstand."
"I didn't pick Mai Lan for any special reason. I just did. Understand?"
"I unnerstand; you no like me." She was pretending to be angry. "You like Mai Lan."
"I like you," I said emphatically. "I love you. Take my word for it."
"You lie, G.I."
"Never happen."
"Alla time happen. G.I. alla time pick Mai Lan. G.I. love Mai Lan. G.I. no love Em Bao."
"She jealous," the little boy told me. "G.I. alla time pick Mai Lan. Mai Lan beaucoup dep, no?"
"Beaucoup dep?" I didn't understand.
"How you say ... purrrty. Mai lan beaucoup purrrty."
"Yes, she is."
"Em Bao no purrrty?" Em Bao asked.
"Sure," I said. "Em Bao very pretty."
"You lie, G.I. G.I. alla time lie."
"You gimme ten p. Okay?" the little boy asked me. "Okay." I reached into my pocket, pulled out a ten-p note and handed it to him.
"Thank you, G.I." He turned around and left me alone with the two girls.
"You come me," Mai Lan said, standing.
I followed her into a small back room that was bare but for a mattress on the floor.
"We take off clothes," Mai Lan said.
"Wait a minute, doll. How much is this gonna cost me?"
"Four hundred p."
"Four hundred ps ... Okay."
Four hundred ps was only about three dollars and fifty cents even at the official exchange rate. I didn't like paying for sex, but I figured I'd have to while I was in Vietnam. And four hundred ps certainly wasn't expensive; Mai Lan looked well worth it.
"We take off clothes now?" she asked.
"Sure, doll. But first I'll pay you the four hundred ps."
"Okay." She held out her hand.
I pulled four hundred-p notes out of my pocket and handed them to her.
"I love you, G.I." She tucked the money under the mattress, then began to strip.
I began to strip myself, while I watched her. She was naked before I was, and what I saw made me hurry.
"You love me?" she asked.
"I damned sure do." I dropped my pants and shorts and stepped out of them. I already had a hard-on.
Staring at my blood-heavy, sex-hungry shaft, Mai Lan said, "We no do." She actually looked frightened. "You too big, G.I.; I too small. We no can do."
"What're you talking about, Mai Lan? I paid you; now I screw you. Understand?"
"No!" Her eyes were wide with fear. "We no can do. You too big, G.I."
"Christ!" I swore. "I'm not that goddamn big!"
"You too big."
"Then get your sister, if that's who she is, in here. I didn't pay you four hundred ps for nothing."
"Okay. I go get Em Bao."
She left me alone in the little room ... alone, naked, and feeling more than a little foolish. But I felt more angry than foolish. Never before had a girl been scared off by my dong. It's big, I admit it, but girls usually like big ones.
Em Bao came in and said, "Mai Lan say you too big, G.I."
"Mai Lan is crazy. Mai Lan is out of her cotton-picking head."
"Mai Lan dien cai dau, huh?"
"Yeah ... dien cai dau. That's what she is."
"Mai Lan no like too big; no can do, she say. Mai Lan baby-san, huh?"
"Yeah ... baby-san."
"You, me. Okay?"
"Okay. Why not?"
"Why not?" Em Bao repeated, smiling.
"Take off your clothes."
"What'sa hurry, G.I.? I take off. I take off, you bet. Don't have to worry, huh? You can wait, huh?"
"I can't wait." I closed one of my hands around my stiff cock. "I got a heavy load I'm anxious to get rid of."
"You very big, G.I."
"So I'm told. Take off your clothes."
"What'sa hurry, G.I.? I take off. What is heavy load? I no unnerstand; I very stupid girl."
"Very. Take off your clothes."
"Okay, G.I. Don't have to worry, huh?"
"I'm a natural-born worrier. Worry all the time."
"Alla time, huh?" Em Bao said, pushing her" pajamas" down her voluptuous hips.
"Very pretty," I said.
"You like, G.I.?"
"Very much."
Staring at my cock, she said, "I like you, too. Mai Lan baby-san; Em Bao like big."
"Congratulations. Em Bao very smart girl."
Naked now, Em Bao lay down on the mattress, her legs arched and opened. The moist pink interior of her pussy stared up at me, an invitation to screw.
Not one to turn down such a pleasant invitation, I got down on my knees between Em Bao's legs and thrust a curious finger up into her.
"You make me happy. Okay, G.I.?"
"Okay."
I bent over and kissed her lips, and her mouth opened to admit my searching tongue. I licked all over inside the dark pink cavern. And my penetrating finger pumped and pumped her tight young cunt-hole.
Em Bao moaned, which pleased me. I don't like giving it to a girl who just lies there like a dog gone piece of meat. I like the girls I screw to show me they're alive.
I pulled my tongue out of her mouth and lifted my lips away from hers. She was breathing hard; I could tell I was getting her really hot.
"Oh, G.I.! I love you too much!"
"I love you too much, too," I said, pumping and pumping her with my finger.
"You make me feel so-Oh, oh, oh!"
"I do, huh?"
With my free hand I began playing with her small titties. The girls of Vietnam, as I've said before, aren't very big. The same goes for their titties, and Em Bao was no exception; her titties were about the size of a thirteen-year-old American girl's. I didn't mind, though. There was enough there to get a grip on, and that's all I cared about at the moment.
I took turns with her firm, fleshy little hemispheres, giving each a thorough workout. I was glad to see their plump, pink-brown tips stick out hard and hot. Em Bao was beginning to moan much more loudly now; she was one hot whore, lemme tell you. But I wasn't about to let up. In fact, I had another good trick up my sleeve-to coin another cliche.
I pulled my pumping fingers out of her dewy cunt and backed up on my knees to get into position to go down on her. Another thing about the girls of Vietnam is that they haven't got much hair on their cunts. Again, Em Bao was no exception; so I knew I'd be able to get a good mouthful of her precious little bulge. And a good mouthful is just what I got.
"Oh, G.I., oh, oh! OH!" she moaned, as she wrapped her legs tightly around my head.
I poked my tongue out of my mouth again. I licked the little tuft of black hair at the top of her cunt then sent the tip of my tongue up and down the fat, hot lips of her hungry slit.
"Oh, no, G.I.!" she squealed, her ass beginning to bounce on the mattress. "You kill me! I die! Oh, no, no, no! I die!"
I would've raised my face and disagreed with her prediction, but her legs were holding my head in place pretty securely.
My tongue entered her slit and slowly traced its honeyed length. Locating her tiny hard-on, I gave the shaft a vigorous workout, tonguing and tonguing it forcefully.
"Screw now! Please, G.I. screw now!" To add emphasis to her pleas, she dropped her legs away from my head.
I pulled my mouth away from her delicious sex meat and quickly got into position to screw her. The swollen, rosy head of my cock made contact with the small mouth of her bone-warmer, and she bucked beneath me, wanting me to ram my full-bodies erection home. But I wanted to take my time. I wanted the thrill of feeling her cunt slowly swallowing every inch of what I had for her; and I wanted her to feel every inch of it as I penetrated her.
Slowly, very slowly, I fed her a couple of inches of my cock. And she groaned and sweated and bucked and rolled her head from side to side. And I fed her another couple of inches of my thick, throbbing tube of male meat. And she begged and whined and squealed and bucked and bucked.
"Gimme him! Oh, G.I., G.I., gimme alla him!"
And still I took my own good time. I fed her yet another couple of inches of my burning cunt-stretcher, then I stopped penetrating her for a few moments, letting her thrill at the feel of the first half of what I had for her.
"Push him in!" she pleaded, bucking wildly. "Push him all in!" She closed her legs across my back and squeezed, trying to force me to give her the rest of my boiling bone.
"Don't be so impatient," I told her. "What's your hurry?"
"I want him!" Her eyes were squeezed shut; her face was contorted by passionate longing for my cock.
"You'll get him. Don't you worry about that."
Her juicy internal muscles were drawing on and seemingly trying to suck that part of my cock that I had pushed up into her. The sensation was an exquisite one, and it increased my horniness so fast that I knew I wouldn't long be able to resist giving her my full length.
"Give!" she whisper-screamed, and I could tell by the raw sound of her voice that she was teetering on the edge of release.
As last I did it. Putting all my power into it, I rammed home. The swollen head of my cock slammed against the cherry-like neck of her womb, and she screamed wildly, joyously, as her trim, ripe rear slid nearly a foot along the mattress.
I began to take her, pumping and pumping my thick tube into the honey-sleek, wonderfully tight depths of her precious little pussy, going slowly at first but gaining more and more speed as each second shot past.
Her eyes were squeezed as tightly shut as she could get them. Little beads of sweat were coalescing into steamy rivulets that ran down her forehead, her cheeks, her neck. The look on her face was one of raw, intense passion. I knew she couldn't take much more of the pounding I was giving her delicious love tube.
And I knew I couldn't take much more, either; but I did do my best to keep from feeding her the fruit of my lust for as long as I could hold off squirting it into her.
Each of the flesh-stretching, hotly frictioning strokes I gave her exotic pussy was as thorough and as brutal as I could make it. I rammed and rammed my blood-gorged poker far up into her belly, and I pulled back so far each time that my knob nearly popped out of her.
"Unh, unh, unh!" she grunted, her legs churning about me, her cunt spasming and spasming, giving my shaft a wonderful workout.
Her teeth were now chewing on her upper lip. She was so wild I was afraid she'd bite herself so forcefully she'd make herself bleed, but I needn't have worried, because "Ah! Ahhh! Ahhh!" she groaned.
And still I screwed her throbbing channel of ecstasy with my bone. Her wet tissues were squeezing and squeezing the full length of my shaft, and I was so close, so close ... I penetrated her as thoroughly as I could and stopped. I was dizzy; everything I saw was washed in a brilliant red; in my ears a thousand bells were clanging, clanging.
And it was: Boom! Boom! Boom! I was squirting the fruit of my lust into her depths. Bullets of liquid fire were escaping from the flared "eye" of my cock, so many of them that it seemed as if they'd keep coming forever.
At last I collapsed on top of Em Bao, my shriveled, damp meat slipping, with a plorp, out of her pussy.
"Oh, G.I., I love you too much! I love you too much!" Her lips found mine; she kissed me warmly and tenderly. "Now me," came Mai Lan's voice from behind us.
I pulled my lips away from Em Bao's and turned to look at Mai Lan. "I thought you said I was too big." I smiled teasingly at her.
"Who say?" Her answering smile was bright and impish. "I no say. You no too big."
"Changed your mind, huh?"
"Never happen, G.I." Her disproportionately large black eyes twinkled. "I no say you too big. You get him wrong. Somebody tell you lie. Somebody very bad person, tell you I say too big. Who say, huh?"
"Search me." I grinned happily. "I guess, like you said, I got it wrong."
"You sure do musta did. Mai Lan like too much so big like you have. Mai La.. crazy for big. Okay, G.I.?"
"Okay. Whatever you say."
"I say you, me, we do now. How you like? Very okay, huh?"
"Very. But you'll have to gimme a few minutes to catch my breath. Can do?"
"Can do. Not too long."
"Not too long. How 'about you go get me a beer?"
"Okay. I do." She disappeared back through the door, and I turned to face Em Bao again.
"Mai Lan dien cai dao, no?" she said.
"She sure is. But she's a pretty little thing."
"Beaucoup dep, huh?"
"Yeah ... yeah, that's what she is."
"Em Bao no beaucoup dep, huh?"
"Em Bao beaucoup dep, too."
"You lie, G.I."
"Never happen." I dropped my lips to hers and kissed her easily, tenderly, as she had kissed me.
"G.I., I love you too much ... you know?" she said, when I had released her lips.
"So I've heard."
At that moment Mai Lan returned with a beer and handed it to me. I started to go for my pants to get her the money for the beer, but she stopped me.
"No money," she said. "I give."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." She grinned, proud of her knowledge of English.
I took a swig of the beer then set it down on the floor beside the mattress. Poking a finger into the bottle, I said, "You and me, huh?"
Mai Lan giggled cutely and said, "Okay."
I took several more swigs of the beer, nearly emptying the bottle, then set it aside and told Em Bao to get off the mattress.
Mai Lan stripped quickly then lay down in the place Em Bao had vacated.
"You beaucoup dep, " I said."
"I know," Mai Lan said, and she actually blushed.
"You do, huh?"
"Alla time G.I. tell me."
Leaning over her, I trailed a finger slowly along her almost hairless slit. "You like?" I asked.
"I like too much."
I eased my finger in between the thick outer lips of her cunt and began to stroke her moist red pymphae. "You still like?" I asked.
Lust was written all over her face; I needed no other answer to my question. Nor did I get one, for Mai Lan was too busy enjoying what I was doing to her to listen to me.
The tip of my finger encountered her clit. The delicate shaft was already hard and wet. Mai Lan, I was sure, was thoroughly ready to be screwed, but I had no intention of screwing her yet. My thumb joined my finger in her slit, and I got hold of her clit and started vigorously massaging it, squeezing it, pinching it, yanking outward on it.
Mai Lan moaned and further opened her legs. Her cunt's lips were stretched apart, a quivering, sex-hungry little mouth.
I pulled my hand away from her slit and had her roll over and get up onto her hands and knees.
"What you do?" she asked.
"Wait and see."
I returned to playing with her swollen clit. At the same time my other hand dived into the crack of her butt. I was going to attack her at both ends.
She had a shallow, small-cheeked butt, which pleased me. I would be able to get at her tender rosebud easily with my fingertips. And get at it I did. I ran two fingers all the way down, until they came into contact with the wrinkly little aperture that was tucked away in her butt. With the other fingers and the thumb of my penetrating hand, I wedged the cheeks of her butt as far apart as I could.
She groaned as if in pain, but I knew it wasn't pain she was feeling. I knew what she was feeling was lust. I knew she wanted me to be rough with her, as rough as I could be, and I didn't intend to disappoint her.
Now I could see her lovely, puckered, pink-brown rosebud. My fingers massaged it in a rotary manner, using more and more pressure, trying to get the tight ring to open.
"Oooh, G.I.!" Mai Lan moaned passionately, pushing her butt backward, trying to help me penetrate her the way I wanted to penetrate her.
I rubbed and rubbed her sweet, delightful little anus. And it began to give.
"That's the way, baby doll," I said. "Let it come open. Let it come wide open."
"I do," Mai Lan said raggedly, pushing and pushing with her butt.
The firm ring was becoming wider. I could now get at the inner edges of it. I stroked and stroked the wrinkled skin, and the ring widened and widened.
"Beautiful, baby doll," I said, jabbing one fingertip through her anus into her inner channel.
"Oh, G.I., you hurt me!"
"Don't gimme that, baby doll. I know you dig what I'm doing as much as I dig doing it to you."
"No, no, no!"
"Yes, yes, yes!"
I started working my finger in and out, at the same time imparting to it a corkscrew motion that I knew would drive Mai Lan up to a frenzied state of lustful longing.
"No do!" she moaned. "No do, G.I.! You kill me do that!"
"Nonsense," I told her calmly. And to prove to her that I considered what she was saying nonsense, I jabbed yet another fingertip through her stretched-open anus.
"Owww!" she cried out. "I die! I die!"
"That a fact?"
As I worked my fingers back and forth through the tight ring, I redoubled my efforts to make her burn with desire in front. I twisted and squeezed her throbbing, honey-coated clit almost viciously, until it became so bloated that it threatened to burst. "Oh, oh, oh!" Mai Lan moaned hotly, wildly, as she began to make tight circles with her pussy against my fingers.
I bent down and started licking the perspiration off the cheeks of her butt.
From behind me came Em Bao's voice, deep-throated from voyeuristic passion. "Mai Lan gonna go boom," she told me. "You make happy-happy; she gonna go boom."
I hadn't known Em Bao was still in the room. Now that I did know she was, I ignored her; I was too interested in Mai Lan to pay attention to her at the moment.
I continued to lick the cheeks of Mai Lan's butt, even sending the tip of my tongue into the cleft where my fingers were energetically pumping, pumping. I could feel my cock pulsating; I was nearly as hot as Mai Lan. I opened my mouth wide and bit into one of the upthrust cheeks before me. Very gently, at first, I chewed the tasty flesh.
"Oh, you eat her!" Em Bao squealed, giggling girlishly. "That'sa way, G.I.! You eat all you wanna; I give dog what you no want." She laughed uproariously at her little joke.
I almost laughed myself, but I had a mouthful that kept me from doing so, and I wasn't about to let the mouthful go Mai Lan pushed her hands forward out from under herself, and her forehead settled down against the mattress to support the front part of her body. That change in her position made of her pussy such an open, inviting target that I couldn't resist it.
"Unh! Unh! Unh!" she grunted.
My mouth was a wide open as I could get it and flush with her pussy. I poked my tongue out and into her slit and started working it rapidly up and down, loving all of what she had for me.
"Unnnhh!" Mai Lan grunted, far more wildly now.
I knew she was close to coming, but I didn't care-Let her come while I was sucking her; I could always get her hot again before ramming my bone into her, so that she'd want it as badly as she wanted it now.
I licked all over inside her wet slit, my tongue moving like an epileptic douche. I was really sucking that sweet bulget of hers like crazy, and it was wonderful.
Finally I pulled my tongue back into my mouth, but I still didn't let up in my efforts to stimulate Mai Lan more intensely than she'd ever before been stimulated. Her violently erect clit was poking out from the lips of her cunt, hungry for a workout. The precious hard-on was incredibly swollen; it was nearly as big as a baby boy's penis. But it was all girl, and I knew it was going to be good.
I closed my teeth over the raw tip of it and began to chew on it like a dog chewing on a bone. My teeth scraped and scraped against the extremely sensitive bit of flesh, and it grew even more swollen. I had a perverse, cannibalistic urge to chomp right down and sever the tip of her clit from the organ's main body, but I resisted the urge I didn't, after all, want to mutilate Mai Lan for life
"I die!" she screamed, "I die! I die!"
At last I released the tip of her clit from the grip of my teeth I didn't want my mouth jammed against her crack too long; a guy can lose his head doing something like that and wind up doing something he'll regret afterward. As it was, Mai Lan was going to have one helluva sore clit after a while; but at least her clit would be intact, I quickly got into position to screw her I gave a push, and the head of my cock popped in-to her channel of delight. She was exquisitely tight; but I'd got her so worked up that she wasn't so tight that my penetration of her cunt would hurt her.
Hurt her! Far from it; she screamed for: "More! More! More!"
More is exactly what she got-all I had to give her, in fact.
As soon as I'd rammed my bone all the way home, Em Bao joined us on the mattress.
Hell, I thought Vietnam isn't as bad as I thought it'd be.
CHAPTER TWO
When I finally, reluctantly left Em Bao and Mai Lan, it was getting on toward evening. Going up the road to the nearest intersection, I caught a cab that took me as far as it was allowed to go toward central Saigon: to a military checkpoint.
Camp Alpha is located within what is called a military perimeter. The cabs that operate within the perimeter aren't allowed to take passengers beyond the various checkpoints.
I crossed through the checkpoint on foot and caught another cab into central Saigon. I had the driver let me off in front of a small tailor shop on Pham Hong Thai Street, where, the driver had told me, I could get a good deal for my greenbacks.
The driver proved to be right; I got two hundred ps per buck.
Feeling pleased with myself for having made such a good deal, I ambled east past the Central Market and turned south on Cong Ly Street. I found an open-air restaurant and decided I needed to get some food into my gut. I sat down at a little table and waited for service.
Five minutes later I was eating a bowl of fish-and-chicken soup and a banh mi co-the latter means! "bread have" and is a long sandwich stuffed with whatever a particular restaurant cares to stuff their sandwiches with-and drinking a thin, milky concoction whose name I don't recall, though I do recall it was a rather sweet, definitely palatable drink.
While I was enjoying my supper, a "Buddhist" parade passed by on Cong Ly Street. I put Buddhist in quotes because chances are not one of the bald men dressed in brilliant orange robes was a legitimate Buddhist. Rather, probably all of them were what in the States are called fellow travelers and dupes, trying to "embarrass" the government.
Remember the series of what Mme. Nhu called "Buddhist barbecues," when hardly a day went by without at least one "Buddhist monk" pouring gasoline over himself and burning himself to death? The fact is, Buddhist holds that suicide is a mortal sin; no devout Buddhist layman, much less a monk, would commit suicide to demonstrate against a government.
After finishing my supper, I hailed another cab and had the driver take me to the Ambassador Hotel.
Inside, I paid the desk clerk one thousand then went upstairs and gave room 204 the once-over. It was hardly Statler-Hilton fare, but I figured it would be a comfortable enough place in which to sack out ... and to screw the girl who'd given me the note directing me to meet her in the hotel's lobby at nine.
Since it was still more than two hours before nine. I continued walking, when I got back downstairs, out onto the sidewalk. I wanted to find a bar-a real bar-and I was lucky-there was one, called the Yankee Bar, right next door.
I took a seat in a vacant booth next to one of the walls.
Service wasn't long in coming, but it wasn't the kind of service I'd expected. An attractive native girl dressed in a turquoise Ao Dai-a girl's dress-up outfit consisting of a form-fitting blouse, equally tight pants, and two narrow rectangles of materials that run in front and back, hanging loose, from waist to ankles-came over from the bar and sat down beside me on the semicircular seat that half ringed a tiny, circular table.
"You buy me Saigon tea?" the girl asked.
Before answering her, I took a good look at her figure. The Ao Dai she was wearing was made of a silken material and was almost transparent; I had no trouble at all seeing her panties and bra ... which garments, sad to tell, were not transparent.
"How much'll it cost me?" I asked
"Seventy-five p."
"Okay. I'll buy you one; but only one, so don't bother asking me for any more."
"What you wanna drink?"
"Just a beer."
She called for our drinks. While we were waiting for them, she snuggled up to me and placed one of her hands against the crotch of my pants.
"You, me, we finish drinks go hotel you. Okay, G.I.?"
"I'll think about it."
Our drinks came, but the girl didn't take her hand away from my crotch. Calmly, deliberately, she fingered me, while she guided her drink to her mouth with her free hand.
I downed my beer quickly, all the while pretending not to be stimulated by her intimate caresses. The pretense showed, though, when my ever-ready love engine started to raise its head and stand at attention in response to the fingering it was getting.
The girl finished her drink, then asked me if I wanted another beer.
I told her I did, and she immediately called for another one.
While I was drinking my second beer, the girl managed to work my zipper down. Her soft, talented fingers reached inside and pulled my cock out of my pants.
An involuntary grunt of pleasure escaped my throat; this girl really knew her business.
She peeled back the foreskin of my now fully erect shaft and started gently massaging every square inch of the organ's head. "You very big boy," she said, and she giggled sweetly.
"So I'm told."
She gripped the swollen head of my cock between her thumb and index finger and pinched it.
"Hey, baby!" I protested, wincing. "Don't be so goddamn rough, huh?"
"So sorry."
"You're working with a sensitive piece of equipment there."
She pinched me again, and my butt bucked up from the seat.
"What're you trying to do to me?" I complained. "You trying to pinch the thing off. or what?"
She pinched me yet again, but it wasn't so painful this time; I was getting used to her rough kind of sex play.
"You see?" she said triumphantly. "You like I do, huh?"
"I like," I admitted.
"I know something you like better."
"What might that be?"
She slipped down onto the floor on her knees between my spread thighs. "You know?" she asked.
"I've got a pretty good idea."
And my idea was right. Her parted lips swept in toward my crotch to take the head of my cock. She got it between her teeth and started chewing on it, while at the same time she toyed with my balls with her fingertips.
"Oh, baby!" I groaned. "You better not keep that up too long."
Pulling away for a moment, she looked up at me and said, "I keep do. Everything okay, G.I. I love you too much."
"You asked for it, baby."
"No sweat, huh? Everything okay, G.I. You hear that, huh?"
"I hear that."
"Okay, G.I. Okay. Shutsha mouth, huh?"
I did as told, and she returned her teeth to the head of my cock and went at her task like a pro-which, of course, she was.
"Baby, baby, baby!" I groaned. I felt as if my head were about to blow to pieces. There was a familiar clanging in my ears. I knew I was going to come any second.
The girl became even more wild. She sucked and chewed and bit like a famished baby at a mother's nipple. Her hands squeezed my balls; she was trying to get me to release my hot load.
And release it I did. I thrust my butt forward, sending my shaft into the girl's throat. I grunted ecstatically as the climax slammed into me.
And still the girl kept her mouth in place. She released the head of my cock only when she had worked me back up to a high plateau of lust.
Looking up at me, she said, "You finish beer, we go hotel you. Okay?"
She had me convinced that it would be well worth my while to do as she wanted. I said, "Hell with the beer. Let's go."
She smiled so widely that a pair of pretty dimples blossomed on her cheeks. "Okay. We go now." She stood and led the way as we left the bar.
"What about the drinks?" I asked, now out on the sidewalk with her. "I haven't paid for 'em yet, you know."
"No sweat. Okay you pay me later on."
After we had enter the Ambassador Hotel and gone up to my room, I asked. "Say, how much are you gonna cost me?"
"How much you think I worth?"
"One p," I said, grinning.
"One p! Whatcha talk about, G.I.? Never happen one p. You dien cai dau, "
"I was only kidding. You're worth at least fifty ps."
"Fifty! Crazy boy, you! You must be out of your head!"
"Well, you asked me for my opinion. Why don't you tell me what you think you're worth?"
"One thousand p ... all night long. Very good deal, you bet Fine girl. Worth a lot more, but for you only one thou. Okay?"
"I can't spare the whole night. I'm meeting another girl downstairs in about an hour and a half."
"Okay. Short time only five hundred."
"That's a lot of money."
"Sheeeit! Whatcha talk about? You really dien cai dau. You really some funny boy. Lotsa money! Sheeeit!'
"Yep," I insisted. "Five hundred ps is a lot of money."
"Cheap G.I."
"Cheap? Me. My middle name is Diamond Jim. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Who Diamond Jim? I never know him. He captain you?"
"Never mind who Diamond Jim is." I didn't want to get hung up with a lot of irrelevant talk.
"Five hundred p," the girl reiterated. "I very worth it; got a beautiful body; lotsa fun. How 'bout it, huh, G.I.?"
"Three hundred and not a p more."
"Sheeeit! I think maybe I kill you."
"How would you do that?"
"I bite your head off, you bet."
"What's your name?"
"Meo."
"Well, Meo, you got a deal at five hundred. Couldn't you teH I was just joking with you?"
"You some funny G.I."
"You won't be laughing long, Meo. Now get out of your clothes and get up onto that bed."
"Yes, sir!" She grinned girlishly as she saluted me.
Finally we both began stripping. By the time I had got out of my other things and was pushing down my shorts, Meo was entirely naked, and the sight of her nakedness caused my cock to snap fully erect.
I told her to lie down on her back on the bed and spread her legs. I figured I'd give it to her twice: wham bam the first time, slow and easy the second time.
I climbed up onto the bed and positioned myself between her legs. Her pussy was open, damp, and hungry, and I had just the food it needed. I settled down slowly as I used the fingers of one of my hands to guide my knob toward the mouth of her rosy, succulent hole. Contact was made; I rammed my shaft deep into her.
"Ayiii!" she moaned-a piercing, abandoned, cat-like moan. She closed her legs across my back and started matching my thrusts with shorter thrusts of her own.
At first I screwed her slowly, but I greatly increased the speed of my strokes before long. Still, I kept my strokes long, slamming my knob against the neck of her womb with each inward thrust, nearly uncunting with each pull back.
"Good-bye, G.I.," she said, just after I'd felt the spasming squeeze of her climax.
"What?" I asked unsteadily, still pumping her at full speed. I couldn't understand why she'd said good-bye.
Then I heard two muffled shorts-as if fired from a gun equipped with a silencer-and Meo groaned in agony, "What the-" I began.
"Get off her!" came a screaming female's voice from the doorway to my room.
Not wanting to get killed, I obeyed the order tout de suite, not even turning to see who'd given it.
"She beaucoup like Viet Cong," said the girl in the doorway. "She try kill you."
I saw standing beside the bed. I looked up from Meo-she had a bullet hole through each of her wrists-at the girls in the doorway.
It was the girl I was supposed to have met downstairs at nine!
"What is all this?" I asked, perplexed. "Just what the hell is going on?"
"I already tell you."
"Meo's a Viet Cong?"
"I no say; say she beaucoup like Viet Cong. She no like G.I. You unnerstand?"
"Just who are you ... what are you, anyway? I thought you wanted me to meet you because you wanted some class weenie. Was I wrong?"
"Name Be Tu. What is 'class weenie?' I no unnerstand."
"I thought you wanted me to screw you. You understand that?"
"Much better to unnerstand. You get him wrong. I working for Two Fingers. He show me picture you, tell me go give note say meet me lobby Ambassador Hotel nine o'clock tonight."
"Well, why are you early? And just who the hell is this Two Fingers?"
"Gotta have a reason for early? No can do, G.I. So sorly. Nothing to do, so I come early. Okay? Maybe you got room. Okay? I ask man downstair; he say you two zero four. I come up here, save life you; now you mad on me. You some dien cai dau G.I."
"You saved my life? Just what makes you think my life was in danger?"
Be Tu came over to the bed and grabbed Meo's wrists. Meo screamed briefly from pain then fainted.
Looking up at me, Be Tu said, "I see she gonna poke back you with fingernails. You no hear her say good-bye?"
"I heard her. What of it?"
"She got poison under fingernails; she gonna kill you, but I fix her bicycle, you bet."
"Wagon," I corrected her.
"What?"
"You fixed her wagon ... not her bicycle."
"I make boo-boo?"
"You make boo-boo. Now tell me about Two Fingers; who is he, and what does he want with me?"
"Two Fingers American same-same you, only he have more years."
"And what does he want with me?"
"Don't know. You ask him. Okay? I take you him Okay?"
"You don't know a thing about him?"
"He no like Viet Cong. He very big shot. I take you him. Okay?"
"What about Meo?"
"No sweat." She pressed the end of her gun's barrel against Meo's mons Veneris and squeezed the trigger. "She dead."
"Goddamn, you're cold-hearted!"
"She beaucoup like Viet Cong; I beaucoup hate Viet Con."
"I was gonna finish screwing her. Now look, there's blood dripping all over the main course."
"You wanna screw me?"
"You mean that?"
"You bet. I beaucoup like G.I.S."
"What about this body?"
"I go tell man downstair; he give you 'nother room. You wait here for me. Okay?"
"I'll wait in the hallway, if it's all the same to you."
A few minutes later Be Tu and I were in room 208. Before going out into the hallway to wait for her, I had, of course, put my clothes back on. Now I again began taking them off, as I watched Be Tu take off her things.
By the time I had got out of my other things and was pushing down my shorts, she was entirely naked, and (he sight of her nakedness caused my cock to snap erect.
I told her to lie down on the bed, then I knelt at the side of the bed beside her.
"What you do?" she asked.
"You'll see." I placed one of my hands on the flat plane of her tummy, then edged my fingers down toward and onto the soft, delicious-feeling little bulge of her pussy. Ever so gently I rubbed the lips of her pussy, and she started squirming slightly and making soft, sighing sounds of pleasure.
The sounds she was making encouraged me to be somewhat less gentle. I pressed my fingers more solidly against her cunt, causing the organ's lips to spread. I poked and prodded between the precious little folds of flesh, enjoying the heat and the stickiness of her delicate inner tissues.
She arched her legs and let them hang well open, and this action on her part encouraged me to be still less gentle. I rubbed and rubbed the hot cleft with my palm, delighting in the elastic feel of it, in its wetness and its heat. I fingered open the tender little lips and dipped my fingers inside, and the gaping crack's hot lubricating juices dampened the tips of my fingers.
Be Tu shot her pelvis upward and groaned; I was touching some highly sensitive nerve endings.
I ran my fingertips back and forth along the red inner lips of her intensely stimulated pussy. I found the stiff projection that was the focus of her sensitivity, and I squeezed and massaged it until it grew to be as hard as gold. The wet little nugget twitched violently as I played with it.
"Ahhh!" Be Tu groaned. Her eyes were squeezed shut, I noticed. Sweat pouring off her face. Her hands were cupped over her titties, and she was squeezing the delectable bulges as powerfully as she could.
I pulled my fingers out of her slit and started slapping the bulge of her pussy as if it were a newborn infant's bottom. I slapped harder and harder, and she started pistoning her crotch against the stinging blows of my palm. Faster and faster I slapped her pussy; faster and faster she met the blows with her wildly pumping crotch.
Abruptly she slammed her thighs shut, trapping my hand, and she thrust her middle so high that her butt was two feet off the mattress. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" she grunted. Her tender cunt seemed to be expanding and contracting, expanding and contracting; I knew it was overflowing with intensely pleasurable feelings.
Now she started opening and closing her thighs again and again. I guess that her cunt was on fire with lust, that she wanted to fan the blaze to keep it from going out.
"OH! OHHH!" she groaned, and I could tell by the look on her face that her climax was coming closer and closer.
I slapped and slapped her wet cunt, and she screamed and screamed in rapture.
Her little butt plummeted to the mattress. She stretched out her legs and sighed happily as after-tremors tickled the inflamed-looking area between her thighs.
I wasn't about to let her rest. I located her clit again; it was semi-hard. I felt it thicken and become harder as I massaged it. I dropped my mouth to hers, and she thrust her tongue up between my lips.
Now my fingers slipped back and forth, caressing the wet, raw flesh of her harbor of delight. I tickled and tickled her as vigorously as I could.
And my cock grew harder and harder, as the blood pounded inside it.
My mouth now sought Be Tu's breasts. I kissed her tiny, hard nipples. I sucked on them one after the other, again and again.
She began squirming again as my saliva wet the entire surface of each of her delicately sculptured titties. She squirmed more when my lips traced a slippery trail down to her tummy.
I first covered her slim hips with kisses, then paid homage to her slit, licking the smooth, hot skin.
"Oooh!" she moaned.
I felt really hungry for her now. I straddled her, my butt directly above her face. I bent down and slipped my hands beneath her own butt and lifted its rubber-firm cheeks easily as I moved my mouth into position. My tongue darted into her slit, which opened easily for me. I licked and licked her, awed by the intense pleasure it gave me to do so.
She moaned more loudly and squirmed about more energetically. The sound that came from her lips was like that made by a begging, hungry puppy.
The quivering, throbbing head of my cock hung only an inch or so above the hot-cunted girl's mouth. She lifted her head to take the fleshy plum.
I groaned with delight then jammed my tongue and lips and teeth against her tasty outer parts. I sucked and sucked her tender, overflowing crease, and I even nibbled lightly on the tan lipped bulge of her pussy, causing Be Tu to blow a hot stream of air against and around the bulging, rosy head of my almost painfully erect cock.
I tore my mouth away from her delicious private parts and quickly repositioned myself on her body. I slipped one of my hands between our bodies and found her wet crease again. I pinched it for a few moments then located the mouth of her passion hole and caressed its silken smoothness. I guided the head of my cock along the sticky moistness of her inner thighs and finally pressed it between the yielding outer lips of her pussy, into her hot, wildly stimulated crease. I gave a gentle lunge.
She groaned. She had an exquisitely small-mouthed channel of ecstasy; she promised to be even tighter than Mai Lan had been.
I pushed a little harder.
I kissed her cheeks then licked her tightly closed eyes. A perverse impulse made me lick her nostrils and even push the very tip of my tongue into one of the tiny, hairy orifices.
I propelled my cock forward with greater determination. My swollen knob was immersed in the tight start of her channel.
I let go with a wild moan of delight and pushed still harder; and still I made a little headway.
Oil, was she ever tight! Her cunt was squeezing my knob so solidly and giving me such intense joy that wouldn't have uncunted had my ass been on fire.
I pushed a little farther into her slippery, gripping hole, and she bucked beneath me, helping me in my task. I screwed her shallowly, working my knob in and out less than an inch.
I slipped both my hands between our bodies and cupped her titties and squeezed the generous mounds, loving the feel of her hard nipples against my palms.
She moaned and wriggled her hips. My hands on her titties were making her pussy grow more and more juicy.
I rode my cock a little deeper into her.
I kissed her, pushing my tongue into her mouth and licking her lips until her own tongue moved up to join the play.
I screwed my way still farther into her channel, gaining more depth very slowly. But each gain in the depth of my penetration of her made me want to penetrate her entirely all the more strongly; I crammed my bone deeper and deeper into her tight hole with greater and greater wildness.
My bone stretched the honey-wet walls of her tube so forcefully that I was sure she was suffering at least a little, but I didn't care; I pumped away in her, frictioning my meat against her inner tissues.
I slipped my hands under her butt. I dug my fingers in toward her puckered little anus and squeezed the delightfully solid mounds with a violence born of my lust.
My cock was now crammed almost all the way into her, I knew I was about to come, but I knew too that I would have time to ram my knob through that last fraction of an inch.
I yanked ruthlessly on her butt. A muffled grunt escaped my throat; I was right on the edge of coming.
But I continued to screw Be Tu's slippery channel, and she began to match my thrusts with powerful thrusts of her own.
I yanked on her butt still more wildly, causing my knob to slam against the neck other womb.
She gasped.
I groaned.
She cried out passionately.
I rammed my cock so hard into her that her butt was forced out of the grip of my hands and bounced onto the mattress.
I grunted and grunted; my climax was so close, so very close. Something seemed to be tearing open within my crotch, below the root of my cock. The "eye" of my knob flared open, ready to let go the hot jets of my lust.
I jerked spasmodically against Be Tu. I screamed rapturously. The life-giving juice squirted and squirted from my cock. I collapsed on top of Be Tu with a long, weak sigh of completion.
After a while I kissed her lips briefly, tenderly, almost lovingly.
"I no happen," she said, after I had broken the kiss.
"You must be frigid."
"I no unnerstand. What is?"
"Skip it."
Wanting me to finish what I'd started for her, she reached for and took hold of my weenie. She gave it several solid squeezes, causing it to begin to harden. She worked its foreskin back and forth over its knob, and-which amazed me-it became fully erect. I wanted her again!
I kissed her bone-hard nipples one after the other, time after time.
I decided I could use a little more of what I'd got in the bar from the girl who'd bit the dust. I moved up to straddle Be Tu's chest. Resting the cheeks of my butt on her titties, I aimed my shaft toward her mouth.
She kissed the tip of my inflamed knob and then parted her lips to take in the hard plum. :
I listened to her hungry, sucking sounds. I closed my hands in her silk-soft black hair and thrust my knob toward the back of her throat. I started screwing her enfolding mouth.
I stared at her flushed face. Her eyes were squeezed shut; her cheeks were swollen. The look on her face was one of breathless passion.
I jerked my cock out of her mouth. Climbing off her, I directed her to turn over and pull her knees up under her, which she did. I got behind her and stroked the cheeks of her butt with my palms. I moved my hands out of the way and licked her all over. I ran my tongue down into the crease where her fleshy cantaloupes came together. I moved my hands around to explore her tummy and her upper thighs. I pushed my fingers between her thighs and tickled her yawning slit.
At last I poked my cock between her spread thighs and felt its knob contact the beginning of her cunt just below her pretty rosebud. I moved my thumbs down to press the lips of her cunt far apart, stretching her widely open for my purpose. I rammed my hard cock hard into her.
She grunted with pleasure and pushed back to increase my penetration of her cunt.
I banged in and out, in and out; and all the while I massaged Be Tu's delightful pin hard-on with my fingers, causing the sweet prong to grow harder and longer.
She groaned and groaned. Her cunt was spasming around the length of my shaft. She was coming, she was coming, just a little time now, just a few moments, she was coming ... now ... how ... now, now, NOW!
I pinched her twitching clit harder. In fact, though I was Half afraid the intensely sensitive erection might burst open, I pinched the thing between my thumb and index finger as violently as I could.
Be Tu's butt churned back and forth, matching my thrusts, and she moaned and cried and sobbed. And she screamed.
She bit so firmly into her tongue that blood poured out of her mouth. The cunt-exploding climax had full possession of her for long, wonderful moments.
Loving the feel of her spasming cunt, I screwed her and screwed her with ever greater speed. Her climaxing hole seemed about to crush my cock into a bloody pulp, but I nevertheless kept ramming, ramming, ramming.
And then I found out why Be Tu was screaming, and I screamed too as a continuous stream of love juice shot from my knob into her.
CHAPTER THREE
"Now let's go see this two fingers guy," I said, as I pulled up my pants and tucked my shirt into them.
"Be Tu tired," Be Tu said. She had put her things back on, but now she lay back supine on the bed. "Let rest one hour ... maybe two hour. What you say, G.I.?"
I stepped over to the bed and, bending down, kissed Be Tu softly on the lips. "Be Tu very lazy," I said, after breaking the kiss.
"Be Tu no lazy. Be Tu fulla energy. Just tired."
"Well, Be Tu can rest some other time. Right now she's got a job to do."
"Okay, but first you kiss me again. Okay?"
I dropped my lips to hers again, and her tongue wormed its way into my mouth. My suspicion that she was trying to get me horny for her again was confirmed when she wrapped her arms around my head and pushed and kiss well beyond the post-coital tenderness stage.
"All right," I said, breaking away just before it would've become too late, "that'll be enough of that."
"Aww, G.I. get on me again. Boom-boom lotsa fun. I like we do."
"I like we do, too, baby, but right now I wanna meet Two Fingers ... whoever he is. So get the lead out, huh?"
"Kill happy."
"I think you mean killjoy, baby, and you're wrong. It's just that ... too much of a good thing at one time, you know. I need time to get the old love light glowing again, so we might as well head out to see Two Fingers."
Finally Be Tu climbed off the bed. "I still think you kill happy, G.I."
"Killjoy," I reiterated. "And you're wrong."
"We go now. Okay?"
"Say, that sounds like a damned good idea. I wonder why I didn't think of it."
We went downstairs. I expected to be led from there outside, which proves I'm not quite the world's number-one psychic. We joined the desk clerk behind the counter.
"The moon is made of green cheese," Be Tu said.
"Rice taster better than com flakes," the desk clerk said "How many Indians wear blue-striped bikinis?"
"Fifty: twenty-five girls and twenty-five men," Be Tu answered.
"What lives on top of the highest mountain in the world?"
"The bird of paradise."
"What does the bird of paradise eat?"
"Frenchmen, Viet Cong, and bread crumbs."
"What does he use for seasoning?"
"Moonbeams."
"Okay," the desk clerk said, backing away from the counter. "Go ahead."
"What was that bit?" I asked Be Tu.
"Entrance ritual. Now we lie down under counter, him push button, we fall down. Okay by you?"
"How far'll we fall?"
"Not too far. Maybe same tall you. No hurt; floor under got mattress."
"Well, I guess I'm game if you are. Seems to me this Two Fingers character is pretty way-out-living under a hotel." We hit the deck ... the desk clerk pressed a button on the key rack ... the floor beneath us was suddenly no longer beneath us. I didn't have time to wonder where it had gone, because Be Tu and I were falling, and when you're falling you don't think about anything except how you're going to feel-if you're going to feel-after you stop falling.
I needn't have worried; I landed on something that was plenty soft enough to cushion my fall.
"Get offa me, G.I.," Be Tu said. "You supposed to land on mattress, not on Be Tu."
"So sorry," I said, rolling off her. "Where are we?"
It was pitch dark; apparently the part of the floor above us that had gone somewhere to let us drop had returned to is former position. I couldn't see a damned thing.
I felt around myself to get an idea of the nature of my present environment. One of my hands closed over something round and rubbery and warm. I squeezed it.
"Ow!" Be Tu squealed. "You try kill me, G.I.?"
I had grabbed hold of one of her tits. "So sorry, I said again, letting go of the wounded mound.
"Upstair you no wanna boom-boom; now you wanna ... here in dark. You very weird G.I."
"I didn't know it was your tit, Be Tu."
"Maybe doorknob, huh?"
"There's no need to get smart-alecky, Be Tu. I apologized; what more do you want?"
"Kiss make better."
"Oh, so you're starting that stuff up again, huh? Instead of kissing it to make it better, I just might grab onto your other tit and give it a squeeze, too."
"No do, G.I. Be Tu very tender girl ... easy to damage."
"Nonsense, Besides, I didn't really hurt you, and you know damned well that I didn't."
"Whatcha talk about? You hurt very bad. I lucky to be still alive."
"Yeh ... well, don't push your luck."
"Whatcha say? You gonna kill me maybe?"
"I gonna kill you maybe."
"Oh, yeah? Okay, G.I., put up your dukes."
"What?"
"I say put up your dukes. You no hear so good, huh?"
"You can't be serious."
"I very serious. I gonna punch you down, boy."
"I'm already down."
"Was just a figure of talk, dumb G.I."
"Of speech."
"Think you're smart, huh? I gonna punch you up, boy."
"You're asking for it, baby. If it wasn't so goddamn dark in this ... wherever we are ... I'd teach you a lesson about what happens to little girls who sass their superiors."
"Who superior? Whatcha talk about? You think you superior on me?"
"Damned right, I think I'm superior on you. In fact, I know I'm superior on you. So there. Nyaaa. Whadaya think about that?"
"I think phooey. You no such a thing superior on me, boy, boy, boy. Didn't you don't know?"
"Didn't I don't know what?"
"I'm perfect."
"Nobody's perfect."
"I'm perfect, G.I."
"If you're perfect, I'm the King of Siam."
"Glad to meet you, your royal tallness."
"Highness."
"Anyhow, I don't believe it, G.I. I think you lie about Be Tu, boy."
"Me? Lie to you? I wouldn't dream of it. I have too much respect for you; you're the first person I've ever met who's perfect."
"You no fool me, G.I. You think Be Tu no perfect. You think Be Tu only almost perfect."
"I don't even think you're almost perfect, to tell you the truth, but I do think you're a good lay."
"What is?"
"I mean, it's a lot of fun screwing you."
"You wanna do now?"
"No, I don't wanna do now."
"How come why not?"
"It's too dark, and I don't like screwing when it's too dark. And, besides, I wanna get out of this hole and find out what Two Fingers wants to see me about ... not to mention finding out who Two Fingers is."
"You screw me, then we get out of here go see Two Fingers. How you like?"
"I no like one bit, Be Tu."
"Tough shit, G.I."
At that moment something soft and insubstantial collided with my face. "What the hell's this?" I asked.
"My pants."
"Goddamn it, Be Tu, I said I'm not gonna screw you. Can't you take no for an answer?"
"No."
Now that I had pulled Be Tu's black "pajamas" off my face, something else took their place. "Don't tell me," came my muffled voice through the thin silk.
"My panties."
"When you get an idea in your head, you pursue it to the bitter end, don't you?"
"Not bitter. Very sweet."
"I don't get out of here until I screw you. Is that the idea?"
"That's him."
I felt her hand contact my thigh and crawl around in search of my fly. "Lemme do it," I said, pushing her hand away.
"Hurry up; I very hot."
"You're not always hot, by any chance, are you?"
"Just when I with you, you sexy boy."
I unzipped my fly and pulled my cock out of my shorts and pants. Be Tu, seductive little devil that she was, had succeeded in breaking down my resistance.
"Let's go," she said.
"Go? I thought you had your heart set on getting some more of my prime-quality, U.S. Government-inspected weenie."
"I do, silly boy. Was only figure of talk, what I say."
I started to correct her lapsus linguae, but I remembered I hadn't been having a lot of success correcting her so far and decided against it. Instead, I said, "You wanna go on top this time, baby?"
"Okay."
I rolled onto my back and waited for her to straddle my waist and impale her pussy on my antenna.
"Where you at?" she asked.
"I at here."
"Where here?"
"Here, here "
"Bravo."
"Three cheers."
"Hurray."
"For he's a jolly good fellow. I didn't know you were an Elk, Be Tu."
"I got plenty secret, boy."
"I wouldn't doubt it for a minute. Now how 'bout hopping on and doing your part to win this war?"
"Gotta find you."
I felt her hand sliding around on my things. "A little high," I said.
"Here he." Her hand grabbed hold of my cock.
"Right you are, but be a bit more gentle, would you? I don't happen to have a spare."
She straddled me and guided my knob toward the entrance to her love hole. "You ready?" she asked.
"Can't you tell?"
"Plenty hard."
"That means I'm ready."
Whomp! I was into her all the way.
"How you want-fast, slow, what?" she asked.
"A little of everything."
"Okay, but not all at one time."
"Whatever you think is best."
She began humping, her strokes slow and long, her juicy cunt squeezing my cock the way I liked it to be squeezed. My foreskin was being peeled and unpeeled, peeled and unpeeled, giving my knob just the right degree of stimulation to get me extremely horny fast.
"Perfect," I said.
'That's what I already told you, boy."
"Maybe just a teeny mite faster, but don't over-Hey!" Suddenly she was going as if she had a wasp up her ass. My bone was getting one helluva workout; I knew it couldn't take such treatment long without squirting its load.
"Boy, boy, boy!" Be Tu squealed hotly, in time to her wild humping.
"Baby, I hope you're watching where we're going. You keep up this speed, we're liable to crash into a tree."
Be Tu didn't say anything in response to that. She just kept humping and humping and moaning and squealing, until....
One of the walls of our little cubbyhole was opened outward, and light flooded in.
"I thought I heard some noise in here. Why didn't you-" The mouth of the girl who'd been talking opened wide with shock, as the scene that confronted her registered in her mind. "What's going on in here?" she asked-a rather silly question in my opinion.
"Is this Grand Central Station?" I asked.
"My God!"
"No, I'm just a G J. Were you expecting Him?"
"Screwing in a CIA elevator is forbidden! Be Tu, is that you?"
"Yes," Be Tu confessed, climbing off me.
"I'm gonna have to put you on report for this, Be Tu."
"Oh, don't, Miss Funnymoney! Was accident!"
"Accident! Whadaya take me for, Be Tu?"
"We fall, I land on G.I."
"You're naked from the waist down! How do you explain that?"
Facing me, Be Tu asked, "G. I., how I explain that?"
"Search me."
"I know," Be Tu said, again facing the girl standing outside the cubbyhole. "G.I. take off pants, panties; try to rape Be Tu."
"Hey, baby, whoa! Whoa! That's not what happened at all."
"I don't care how it happened," Miss Funnymoney said. "Just don't let me catch either of you screwing in a CIA elevator again. Is that quite clear?"
Shot through with feelings of guilt, Be Tu and I nodded contritely.
"If I ever find out about it happening again, I will put you on report ... both of you. Now get out of there. And, Be Tu, make yourself decent. I must say I never would've expected this sort of behavior from you."
"Never happen again, Miss Funnymoney; I saw error of ways."
"I should hope so," Miss Funnymoney said, a look of relief softening the lines of her pale but pretty face.
Stepping down out of the cubbyhole-or "elevator", as Miss Funnymoney called it-onto the plush carpeted floor of what looked like a reception room, I said, "What's this about the CIA, Miss Laughcash? Is this Two Fingers character Be Tu's been telling me about a CIA agent?"
"Two fingers is the CIA ... at least in Vietnam," Miss Funnymoney said, pushing a few long, silken strands of blonde hair off her forehead.
"Him very big shot," Be Tu put in, pulling up her panties.
"You told me that already," I reminded her.
"Two Fingers has been waiting to see you for some time," Miss Funnymoney said, addressing me. "You two are late."
"We were ... detained."
"I won't ask by what." Indicating with an outstretched finger, she added, "Just go knock on that door."
I did, and from beyond the door I heard come a deep, booming response: "Come in!"
Rather gingerly I opened the door and walked into Two Fingers' office.
"You are ... Lovekill, Genghis?" he asked.
I noticed that when he talked his cheeks jiggled like two bowls of Mexican jumping Jell-O, He was a fat-faced, balding, somehow distinguished-looking man who didn't look nearly as frightening as he sounded. His overall look of distinction was somewhat attenuated by the two rivers of saliva flowing down from the corners of his mouth.
"Genghis Lovekill, sir. People who like me call me Big G."
"You needn't call me sir, Genghis; I asked only respect, not servility."
"Shall I call you Two ... or what?"
"Two Fingers will do. And, if that was a smart crack, let it be the last one I hear from you, Genghis."
"It'll be the last," I said soberly.
"Genghis, you're probably wondering why I'm called Two Fingers ... aren't you?"
"It is a rather unusual name."
"Not for a man with only two fingers," Two Fingers said, raising his hands from behind the desk. The two fingers he had were both middle fingers; it looked as if he were giving me the finger with both barrels, so to speak. "Pinko Commie Reds," Two Fingers explained ... rather excessively, I thought. "And what's worse:"-he started crying-"they got my-Oh, I can't say it! I can't say it!"
"They amputated your ding-dong and your bells?" I ventured, in a spirit of sympathetic helpfulness.
"Yes! Yes! Just thinking about it makes me wanna tear my hair out by the roots and puke my guts up and roll around on the tloor like raving maniac!"
"I don't guess you'd have too much trouble puking your guts up or rolling around on the floor like a raving maniac, Two Fingers, but tearing your hair out by the roots when you've only got two fingers could pre-"
"Don't say it, Genghis. I was only using a figure of ta-Speech, I mean; that Be Tu is beginning to get to me."
"I know what you mean, Two Fingers," I said, smiling understandingly. "Be Tu is one helluva cutup."
"Anyway, Genghis, I'm not important ... and neither are you.
"What is important is for us to defeat the Pinko Commie Reds trying to take over this country."
"Right, Two Fingers."
"And that, Genghis, is why I've had you report to me. I want you on my team. I want you to do your part the best way you can, and that means working under me. Are you game?"
"Well, I'll have to admit it has been some time since I last showered, but-"
"I said game, Genghis, not gamy. Is there something wrong with your hearing, or was that another smart crack?" Evading the question, I said, "I'm game, Two Fingers."
"Good. Now then, Genghis, do you have any idea why I picked you to be a CIA agent?"
"Well, I'm intelligent, resourceful, sneak, and-"
"Another smart crack? Genghis, you've got a little too much cheek for your own good."
"I realize that, Two Fingers."
"Besides, the qualities you've mentioned could easily belong to a Boy Scout."
"Don't keep me in suspense," I said, jumping up and down. "Why did you pick me to be a CIA agent?"
"You are what we in the trade call an ass man."
"What's so special about that?"
"Not many men are as devoted to banging babes as you. We have made a thorough study of you, Genghis: you first engaged in sexual intercourse when you were eleven ... raping your nanny, you little devil; from then on it's been gangbusters."
"I didn't rape my nanny, Two Fingers. I seduced her. She was a damned good piece, too. And so were her two daughters. And so-"
"We needn't discuss your conquests, Genghis. And, as for my saying you raped your nanny, didn't she need a novocaine douche and thirty-two stitches when you were finally finished with her?"
"She just hadn't been used to a hung kind like me; and she was an unusually tight woman ... to begin with."
"Well, I'll take your word for it, Genghis. Anyway, it's unimportant."
"Why is my being an ass man important?"
"In the cause of freedom, Genghis, you'll have to knock off quite a few pieces, and we like things done right."
"Could you be a bit more specific?"
"No."
"No?"
"Not until after you've had your training."
"Training?"
"You'll be flown to the Philippines, Genghis to a secluded complex of ours about a hundred miles north of Manila. There you'll be trained in many phases of CIA work, especially the horizontal phases; we know a few tricks even you don't know. You'll be at the complex two days. You're plane takes off tomorrow morning at seven."
"By horizontal phases you mean screwing, don't you?"
"I do."
"I don't mean to brag, Two Fingers, but I know everything there is to know about screwing."
Two fingers opened one of his desk's drawers and lifted a small contraption out of it. Tossing the contraption to me, he asked. "Whatdaya think that is, Genghis?"
After giving it the once-over, I said, "Looks like some sort of Geiger counter to me."
"It's a hornyometer."
"A what?"
"A hornyometer, Genghis; something our R&D boys whipped up. You simply point that little projection above the dial there at a girl, and you read out how horny she is. I used to put the hornyometer to good use. I ... I ..."
"Two Fingers, please don't cry. I hate seeing a grown man cry."
"I'm sorry Genghis. Forgive me, will you? I'm not often so emotional, but the memories ... the memories ... Ah, but one must buck up, mustn't one?"
"Right, Two Fingers. It's not as if screwing is everything. There's ... there's ... What is there?"
"Getting the Pinko Commie Reds," Two Fingers said valiantly. "And for you, you lucky dog, screwing is gonna be part of doing just that. And you're wrong, you know."
"About what?"
"You don't know everything there is to know about screwing, as will be made clear to you before you've been at our complex in the Philippines very long."
"I'll believe it when I see it, Two Fingers, and-"
"You certainly will. That'll be all, Genghis. Be Tu will come for you in the morning."
"Do I get to keep this hornyometer?"
"Yes. But remember that it's top secret, use it circumspectly, Genghis."
"I will, Two Fingers."
I turned around, left Two Fingers' office, and walked into Miss Funnymoney ... smack into her.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Miss Jokecoin!" I exclaimed indignantly. "Were you listening at the door?" I reached down to help her stand back up, my eyes all the while sweeping over those charms of hers that had become exposed by the disarray of her skirt and half-slip.
"I most certainly was not!" Miss Funnymoney retorted with equal indignation. "And stop staring at my goody box! If you must know, I forgot to wear panties this morning; don't think I'm the sort of girl who never wears them."
"How dare you accuse me of staring at your goody box? Just what makes you think I have the slightest interest in your goody box? As far as I know, you haven't even got a good box."
"You've got a hard-on, haven't you?" she asked pointedly.
"Are you implying that my hard-on came from staring at your goody box-presuming you have one?"
"Are you implying that your hard-on came from something else?"
"It did! I happen to've been thinking about Be Tu. Where is she, anyway?"
"Who knows? She comes and goes."
"She does indeed."
"Take your hand off my goody box!"
"What goody box?"
"My goody box!"
"Are you implying that I have my hand on your goody box? Of all the unmitigated-"
"You do! Just look!"
"Oh." I pulled my hand away from her goody box. "Quite accidental, I assure you."
"A likely story."
"Are you implying that I had my hand on your goody box on purpose, Miss Gigglebuck? Of all the unmitigated-"
"You've got it on again!"
"Oh." Again I pulled my hand away from her goody box. "I hope you don't think I was trying to make a pass at you. I don't know what came over me."
"You're horny; you want my goody box."
"Are you implying that I want your goody box?" I aimed the hornyometer's projection at Miss Gunnyminey, and the needle swung all the way to the right. "You want my cock," I asserted.
'You're as homey as it's possible to be horny."
"Well, after all the feeling of my goody box you've been doing, what did you expect?"
"You admit you want my cock?"
"Just thinking about it gives me goose bumps."
"Since you've been honest enough to admit that you want my cock, Miss Snickercheck, I'll be honest and admit that I want your goody box."
"That's quite obvious; you're bone has grown."
"Where can we go to take care of our problem?"
"Behind my desk. And let's hurry ; I need it bad."
We went behind her desk and stripped. Our clothes flew about as if caught in a tornado.
"Hurry up!" Miss Funnymoney said, flopping down onto her back on the floor.
Naked at last, I joined her on the floor and said, "How do you want it?"
"Hard."
"That's not what I meant. You want it hog-style, dog-style, or what style?"
"I don't know about any of that. All I know is that I want your bone in me, and I want it to move! Now stop wasting time; let's get going!"
"I'm gonna give it to you straight the first time. Will that do?"
"Yes! Yes!"
"Spread your legs."
She did as told, and I stared again at her pussy-her goody box-now open and honey-filled. The sticky red tissues inside looked maddeningly delicious; my cock grew stiffer and longer.
"Ram it home! Ram it home!" Miss Funnymoney implored hotly, her pelvis jabbing at the air and executing tight circles of frenzied lust.
"Gimme time to get between your legs, Miss Wit wampum."
"Screw me! Screw me! Screw me! Get that big bone of yours into me; make my pussy wussy!"
"Wussy?" I said, not understanding, as I climbed between her legs.
"Split me open!"
I used my thumbs to further open her juicy cunt. "I don't know about making this sweet thing of your wussy, Miss Drolldollar, but I'll do my best to split you open if you want me to."
"Don't talk; do it!"
I bent over and guided my knob to the mouth of her love hole.
"Ram me! Ram me! Ram me!"
"Want me to ram you?"
"Ram me!"
I rammed her. My knob slammed against the neck of her womb with such force that it seemed for a moment as if it were about to tear through, boring its way into her farther than she'd ever before been bored into. Instead, her butt slid and bounced along the carpet.
But I pursued; and I screwed and screwed her exquisitely wet hole, bruising her tender inner meat with the wildness of my strokes and not caring. I was speeding toward a spine-wrenching climax, and I didn't care if Miss Funnymoney's cunt might get a little battered and mangled in the process; anyway, I could tell by the look on her face that she didn't want me to go easy on her-or in her, to be precise.
"You're hurting me! You're hurting me!" she screamed. "It's wonderful! I can't stand it! It's wonderful!" Her legs closed across my back and squeezed, released, squeezed, released, as if she were trying to milk my whole body.
"Baby! Baby! Baby!" I cried out as I rammed and rammed with ever greater speed. "Here it comes! Here it comes!"
"Lemme have it! Lemme have it!"
"I will! I will!"
"Goody! Goody!"
I penetrated her as thoroughly as I could, then abruptly stopped moving. I could feel the syrupy lips of her overflowing pussy stretched about the base of my shaft and smashed against my groin, their juices baptizing my pubic hair and balls. It was so wonderful. It was so wonderful.
"Oh ... oh ... oh ... I'm gonna come!" Miss Funnymoney groaned, her hands now up on my shoulders, her fingernails digging long furrows in my flesh. "I'm gonna come all over the place!"
I could feel her tube starting to spasm around the length of my bone, and the feeling compounded the sense of ecstasy, of urgency, shooting out of control through my veins. The almost painfully swollen head of my cock was throbbing, throbbing; it seemed to be the focus of ... of me. Before my eyes were nothing but a million tongues of fire that seemed to caress, to seduce, my very soul. Nothing mattered ... nothing mattered ... but this moment of pure heaven that I wanted to last forever and knew couldn't last even as long as the breath I was taking.
And it was now, now NOW! The "eye" of my cock seemed to be opening to such an extent that it would surely tear and bleed. I let out of my throat a terrible cry of ecstasy, then dropped my mouth to Miss Funnymoney's shoulder and bit into her smooth, hot, fragile skin. My cock bucked and bucked ; squirts of semen tore out and drenched the inner recesses of Miss Funnymoney's wildly spasming pussy.
"Nghaaa!" she screamed again and again-an unearthly sound that sent shivers up and down my spine. "Nghaaa! Nghaaa!"
My cock was beginning to feel sore. Her cunt kept milking and milking it; the climax that still had possession of her was even more powerful than the one I had experienced.
"Nghaaa! Nghaaa! Nghaaa!"
"Lemme go! Lemme go! Lemme go!"
"Nooo!"
"Lemme go!"
"Ayiii! Ayiii! Owooh! Oooh! Oooh!"
"LET ME GO!"
"Nghaaa! Nghaaa! Nghaaa!"
The situation was getting desperate. I hadn't expected to encounter a menace this soon after becoming a CIA agent, but here I was with my cock trapped in a pussy gone wild. I had to think of something fast. I had to rescue my cock before it met its death in the thick of battle. I had no time to wonder if the Pinko Commie Reds were behind it; action was called for.
I hauled off and punched Miss Funnymoney in the face. 'Take that!" I said, and punched her again.
She whimpered and gasped, coughed and shook, like a car running out of gas. Her legs fell off my back as she went unconscious.
Freedom at last! I thought as I uncunted. Dear, precious, sweet freedom!
To revive Miss Funnymoney I bent down and bit one of her nipples.
"Wha ... what happened?" she mumbled as she opened her eyes. "I feel as if ... as if I've been ... punched in the face."
"You have."
"I have? Who did it?"
"I did."
"You did? What on earth for?"
"I had to, Miss Chucklefunds: you're goody box was about to crush my cock."
"Did you have to punch me so hard?" Miss Funnymoney asked, her hands gingerly feeling her nose and cheeks.
"I had to get you unconscious, didn't I?"
"Well ... I suppose so. I know my goody box does act up something fierce when a climax strikes."
"You're not sore at me then?"
"I'm sore because of you, but I guess I'm not sore at you," Miss Funnymoney answered, smiling.
Standing and beginning to put my clothes back on, I said, "Maybe we can get together again sometimes."
"Are you gonna leave me already?"
"I gotta get up pretty early tomorrow, Miss Hahacheck. I really would like to stay and try my luck again, but a man does have to get his sleep."
"I suppose so. Anyway, I guess I can use my fingers."
"Do that. But watch out they don't get crushed; that goody box of yours is a dangerous toy."
CHAPTER FIVE
I arrived at the Philippine CIA complex at about eleven the next morning. The plane that flew me there-the complex was equipped with a primitive, rather lumpy sheet-metal runway-was a small, business-type jet.
Four other passengers flew with me from Tan Son Nhut to the complex, all remarkably burly guys who looked vaguely shaggy even though they were clean-shaven. During the flight I kept wishing I had a few bones to throw to them as peace offerings in case they decided to attack me. At one point I tried talking to one of them; the guy's bloodshot, brow-shaded eyes focused menacingly on me, and he started breathing hard and fast and going, "Duh, duh, duh...." I apologized, gave him a few calm-down-Rover pats on the back, and returned to reading the magazine in my lap.
I suppose my fellow travelers had been recruited especially for dirty work. Anyway, we parted company-for which I gave profuse thanks-as soon as the jet stopped and we stepped down to the runway.
A nondescript, blend-in-with-the-crowd-type middle-aged man approached me and led me through a guarded gate and, after a short walk, into a solid-looking building so wide and long that even with its three stories it looked decidedly squat.
"A new recruit, huh?" asked a very pretty young blonde, dressed in a semi-topless sarong, from behind what looked more like a computer counsel than like a desk, though the small room the blonde, my keeper, and I were in what seemed to have the air of a reception room.
"Yes," my keeper answered the blonde's question, then left the room via the doorway he and I had come in through.
"Hi," I greeted the blonde. "Doing anything tonight?"
"Hi. I'm Janice Flexner."
"Genghis Lovekill at your service, Jan," I said, then repeated, "doing anything tonight?"
"You're an in-country recruit?"
"A what?"
"You were recruited ... Where're you stationed-Vietnam, Thailand, here in the Philippines, where?"
"Vietnam," I told her. "Doing anything tonight?"
"Were you recruited in Vietnam or back in the States?"
"In Vietnam. Doing anything tonight?"
"Then you're an in-country recruit, so you haven't been through indoctrination. That'll be first on the agenda."
"Doing anything tonight?"
"You keep saying that. Do you have some sort of speech impediment?"
"Jan, I'm just trying to make a date with you."
"We don't have the proper facilities here at the complex for that sort of thing. Genghis Lovekill, did you say? Here, let me check through our records." She pressed several buttons on the "desk", and a sheet of paper came up out of a slot. After quickly skimming what was written on the sheet of paper, she looked back up at me and said, "Now I understand."
"Understand what?"
"It says here that you have an extremely high sex drive. It says you raped your nanny when you were only eleven years old ... you horny, naughty little dickens."
"Listen, Jan, I'll have to go along with what it says there about my sex drive-it's high, no doubt about it-but that bit about my raping my nanny when I was eleven is nothing but a vicious rumor."
"It says here she needed a novocaine douche and thirty-two stitches."
"I'm familiar with what it says. It's obviously some sort of Communist plot. Like I told Two Fingers, I seduced my nanny, and that's the truth. And I resent being smeared."
"You don't have to feel guilty about raping her, Genghis. Kids will be kids, as they say."
"Goddamn it, I didn't rape her! I tell you it's a trumped-up charge! Furthermore, I demand to see my lawyer!"
"Now, now, Genghis, there's no need for you to fly off the handle. We have no intention of bringing charges against you, There's a crying need in the CIA for men with sex drives of the caliber of yours. A man who'd rape his nanny at eleven years of age is just the sort of man we need."
"I'm innocent!" I persisted.
"Well ... let's just let it pass, huh? You don't deny having an extremely high sex drive, anyway, so we're straight all around. By the way, is that why you wanted to date me-in hopes of appeasing your sex drive?"
"Yeah, I wanted some ass," I admitted. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"I'll see if I can work it into my schedule," Jan said, winking promisingly. "But right now you have to go to the indoctrination chamber."
"What happens there?"
"You'll find out the answer to that question when I've taken you there," Jane said, rising and coming around the desk. Standing before me, she asked, "How do you like my dress, by the way? You don't think it's too revealing, do you?"
As I've mentioned, she was wearing a semi-topless sarong. It was a many-colored, tropical thing. A tightly encircling red ribbon just below the breast-line lent emphasis to tits large enough for them not to need emphasis. By semi-topless I mean, of course, that one of Jan's tits was entirely exposed.
"No, I don't think it's too revealing," I told her. Naturally, I would've said the same thing had she been wearing only a pair of earrings ... or nothing at all, for that matter. "I think you look udderly beautiful in it."
"When I first wore it, the big boss complained-said it didn't look dignified. But I managed to get him to change his mind."
"How?"
"I plead the Fifth. Now come along with me."
She turned to lead me out of the reception room and down a hallway. With my keen eye for detail I noticed immediately that her sarong was not only semi-topless but semi-bottomless, too. As she walked, her exposed butt cheek-dimpled, cream-pink, and definitely eye-catching-jiggled temptingly.
I revised my judgment of her look in the sarong: "Udderly buttiful, I should've said."
"What?" Jan said, glancing back over her shoulder as she continued to lead me down the hallway.
"Just thinking aloud. I like what you're not wearing even better than I thought I did."
"You've noticed my southern exposure, huh?"
"Flow-through ventilation. Very smart-looking."
"My right setter sometimes gets a little chapped if I squirm around too much in that chair of mine back in the reception room, but that's a small price to pay for the advantages."
"Such as?"
"Well, for one-I hope you don't mind a girl who calls a spade a spade-it saves a lot of time when I've gotta pay Mother Nature her dues. For another, it really does help me keep cool; this building's not air-conditioned."
While she talked, I watched her lovely mound do everything it could to provoke my better nature. To make a short story long, my dick got hard.
"The indoctrination compartment's just ahead," Jan said.
I chose to interpret her words as meaning, "If you're gonna do anything, you better do it right away."
"Halt!" I commanded.
"What?"
My hand shot out and invaded the crack of her ass. My middle finger quickly located her deep-set, puckered rosebud and started drilling.
"Genghis, what're you doing?"
"Not so loud, sweet bottom; we don't want anyone to hear us."
"Genghis, this is neither the time nor the-Ouch! That hurts, you nasty man!"
I had penetrated her wrinkled treasure. Now I started pumping her shallowly. "I got the hots for you, Jan," I said. "I gotta have you."
"I want your finger out of my ass, Genghis Lovekill, and I want it out now!"
"Baby, baby, don't be like that," I said, imparting a corkscrew movement to my pumping finger.
"If you don't get your finger out of my ass right this second, I'll put you on report, you ... you ... you nanny-raper!"
That "nanny-raper" bit was meant to tick me off, but it didn't work. Far from withdrawing my finger, I slipped my free hand between Jan's thighs and jabbed a finger into her in front. And I pumped her vigorously fore and aft!
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she shotgun gasped.
I could feel her pussy's lubricating juices coating the finger I had in her there. I couldn't be stopped now. She was hot and I was hot, and I knew just what sort of "air-conditioning" we needed.
"Stop, Genghis!" A feeble, last-ditch cry.
"On your knees, baby," I said. "I'm gonna take you dog-style."
I pulled my fingers out and she dropped to her knees. I dropped to my knees behind her and quickly unzipped my fly and pulled my heavy erection out into the open.
"This is definitely against the rules. If the big boss were to catch us, he'd chew us to pieces."
"Relax, baby."
"You just be sure to make it quick."
With my thumbs I peeled apart her pussy's soft little flaps. I knee-stepped closer and aimed my ready shaft for her wetly beckoning channel of bliss. "Here I come, baby!" I said, then rammed in to the hilt with the first thrust.
"Unh!" Jan groaned. "Genghis, you're so big!"
Ahead of us a door opened into the hallway and an old man's round, wrinkled, bespectacled face peeked out. "What's going on out-Janice! Is that young fellow raping you?"
I uncunted so rapidly that Jan moaned in pain from the friction. I tucked my meat back into my pants and zipped my fly back up.
"Shall I call for help?" the old man asked, stepping out into the hallway.
I stood back up, and so did Jan.
"That won't be necessary, Herr Schwanz. Mr. Lovekill was ... he was simply helping me look for a bobby pin that fell out of my hair."
"Are you sure, Janice? It seemed to me the young fellow was-"
"I'm quite sure, Hen Schwanz."
"Well ... if you're sure. Seemed like a rather unusual way to look for a bobby pin ... or anything else. But I suppose you young people do things differently then we did in my day. Would you do an old man a favor, Janice?"
"What?"
"The next time you loose a bobby pin, would you please call on me for assistance in finding it?"
"I'll think about it, Hen Schwanz."
"I really would like to catch up on some of the new-fangled ways of doing things. The way you two were looking for a bobby pin-"
"Herr Schwanz," Jan interrupted, "this is Genghis Lovekill."
"Call me Big G," I said.
"Genghis, this is Hen Schwanz."
"Call me Pierre," Hen Schwanz told me.
"Pierre?" I said, a frown of curiosity on my face.
"My mother-rest her sainted soul-was French."
"Genghis, Hen Schwanz will indoctrinate you," Jan said, then turned and walked back down the hallway toward the reception room.
"Come with me," Hen Schwanz said.
I followed him into the room he had come out of. In the room was a padded, roller-equipped table, the sort of table people are taken to surgery on.
Hen Schwanz approached the table and said, "Lie down up here, Big G."
Feeling a little foolish and a lot ill-at-ease, I did as told. Hen Schwanz leaned over and peered down directly into my eyes. "Big G, I'm not as stupid as Janice thinks," he said. When I made no response, he continued, "Hunting for a bobby pin indeed! I'm not a fool, Big G."
Feeling threatened for some reason, I hastened to remind Herr Schwanz, "I didn't say we were hunting tor a bobby pin, Jan did." Not a very gallant thing for me to say, but I've never made any claim to gallantry.
"Do I frighten you, Big G-me, an old man with glasses and dentures and skin so tired it's ready to fall of my bones like a greased G-string oil' a stripper's crotch? You can't really be frightened of me, can you?"
"I've run into some pretty spunky old geezers in my day, Pierre. I remember one time I was messing around with this girl in her bedroom, and her old man came barging in and damned near did me in with his crutch."
'The reason I'm capable of frightening you despite my ago, Big G, is because I have presence. Look into my eyes. Stare closely into my eyes. I have a commanding personality, Big G. Commanding. Commanding. Do you understand?"
"What're you driving-"
Suddenly Herr Schwanz hauled off and schlagened me in the gut.
"Goddamn! What's the big idea?" I complained vehemently, clutching the area of pain. "You some kind of maniac, Pierre?"
"I asked you if you understood what I meant when I said I have a commanding personality. It was a yes-or-no question, Big G. Kindly answer it properly this time."
"Yes."
"Very good. Now then, we've established that you have a certain fear of me. Could you fear a Communist?"
I started to answer. "Of course," but I caught myself in time. I didn't want another schlagening. "Yes," I said.
I got another schlagening.
"Cut that the hell out, Pierre!" I shouted. "You trying to kill me.
"Answer the question again, Big G, and answer it right this time."
"No, I couldn't fear a Communist."
"Of course not. You're a brave CIA agent now, Big G, and a CIA agent is incapable of fearing Communists. By the way, do you know what a Communist is?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"A Communist is someone who's ready to bring about and maintain by force a system of government wherein the state owns all property, supposedly for the benefit of its citizens. Of course, that's only a brief defi-"
I got still another schlagening.
"For our purposes, Big G, your definition of a Communist must be emotional in nature. Do you understand that?"
"Yes."
"Now look into my eyes. Look closely into my eyes. A Communist, Big G. is a queer ... a no-good, lousy, stinking queer."
"Cela va sans dire."
"You speak French, eh?"
"No."
"And quite well, I must say. But that's neither here nor there. What is important is that you understand the nature of our enemy."
"Nothing but a pack of queers," I ventured.
"Even worse. Big G. Picture in your mind a man capable of sodomizing his own son ... his own immature son ... his own paraplegic immature son. That's a Communist!"
"Horrors!" I exclaimed, knowing some such interjection was expected.
"You think that's bad, Big G; that's not the half of it. The kid has a bad case of hemorrhoids, and the man rubs itching powder all over his Pimmel before doing the dirty deed."
"Good heavens, Pierre! Lemme at 'im! Lemme at the perverted bastard!"
"It's even worse, but I don't know if I have the heart to tell you the rest of it."
"Go on, Pierre. I've got a strong stomach."
"The man sends his kid to bed without any supper, says he was a bad lay. That's a Communist for you!"
"Only one thing bothers me, Pierre; if the man rubs itching powder all over his Pimmel-A Pimmel is what I think it is, isn't it?"
"A Pimmel is a dong, Big G. You know what a dong is, don't you?"
"Certainly. If the man rubs itching powder all over his dong, besides giving the kid an itchy rump, won't his own dong get itchy?" I got yet still another schlagening.
"Big G. your objection is mere technicality. Now then, do you understand the nature of the enemy We face?"
"Yes."
"Baddies, Big G, real baddies. You may get off the table now. I'll buzz Janice to come and take you elsewhere."
Climbing down off the table, I asked, "I'm through being indoctrinated?"
"Just one more thing, Big G."
"What's tha-" I saw his fist rushing toward my gut. I deflected it and shot one of my hands between his legs to grab hold of his Pimmel through the crotch of his baggy pants. "Not this time, Pierre." I gave a twist to my wrap-around hand ... and Herr Schwanz' Pimmel came unscrewed!
"Let go of it!" he demanded.
I did, and it fell down one of his pants legs and rolled across the floor.
"What the hell kind of Pimmel you got, Pierre? I didn't know there was such a thing as a detachable one."
Herr Schwanz went after the item in question. "It's not my Pimmel, you ass! Don't you know a grenade disguised as an erection when you see one ... and feel one?"
He brought the Pimmel-grenade over and handed it to me for my inspection.
"As a matter-of-fact, I don't," I answered his question. "Oh, yes. I'd forgotten you just got here. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you, Big G."
"Don't give it another thought, Pierre, but don't go for my gut again, or I'll get hold of your real Pimmel. How's this thing work, anyway? Looks very life-like."
"You can thank our R&D boys for that, Big G; they're devoted slaves in the cause of freedom, and they're absolute geniuses. As to how this thing works: you merely give a little squeeze to its head, and boom!"
"No delayed reaction?"
"'Fraid not. Our R&D boys are working on one with a delayed reaction, but they haven't perfected it. They like to refer to this one, incidentally, as the Kamikaze cock."
"They have quite a sense of humor."
"In this business, Big G, a sense of humor sometimes comes in mighty handy."
"I'm sure it does."
Hen Schwanz went to his desk in one comer of the room and called Jan, telling her he was through with me. Frankly, I was more than a little glad he was through with me, because I knew my gut couldn't have taken another of his pile drivers.
"Did you enjoy your indoctrination?" Jan asked, out in the hallway with me.
"Oh, yeah," I answered her, smiling. "It was a laugh a minute."
"Hen Schwanz' technique is rather unusual, but we've found that in the majority of cases it's quite successful. It's a Pavlovian thing, you know. Anyway, come along with me."
"Where to now?"
"To Lover-boy."
"Who?"
"He'll give you sexual instruction and issue you some interesting devices ... interesting if you've got a big appetite for sex, and we've established that you do. Lover-boy's not his real name, of course, but that's what everybody calls him."
We came to the end of the end of the hallway and entered an elevator.
"Youj'll like Lover-boy a lot more than you did Herr Schwanz, Gcghis; he's a very popular fellow around here."
"I know someone I like a whole lot better than either of 'em, Jan baby."
"Who?"
"I'll give you three guesses." I again jabbed one of my hands into the crack of her ass.
"Genghis!"
"Let's not go through that hassle again, baby. You know how crazy you are about me."
"I never said that!"
I worked my middle finger through the tight ring of her anus. "You didn't have to. Stoop over a little, could you? Yeah, yeah, that's much better. We don't need words, baby; you should know that. Two young lovers in the night-"
"It's the middle of the day!"
"Not by love time it isn't." I dropped to my knees and, still keeping my finger in place, guided Jan around with my free hand. I lifted the hem of her short sarong and feasted my eyes on the delicious-looking bulge of her cunt, which was covered with a profusion of tantalizing tight blonde curls. "Beautiful," I murmured, my mouth approaching. "Just beautiful."
"Do it!" Jan urged me.
"Say no more, baby."
She spread her legs and, supported by my penetrating finger, leaned back to make for my lips and tongue an even better target of her fast-dampening crease. "Do it, Genghis!" she repeated.
I did it. My parted lips slammed against her sweet flower, and my cheeks immediately hollowed as I suctioned for a kind of honey no bee can manufacture.
Jan quickly reached such an intense degree of stimulation that she threw back her head and cried out like a wounded hyena. The back of her head hit a button on the wall of the elevator, and the elevator was suddenly ascending.
I ignored this new development and continued my voracious sucking. I couldn't get enough of what Jan had for me; I wanted more, more, more!
Well, come to think of it, scratch that last more. I wouldn't want to give the impression I'm a sex fiend.
"Eat me, Genghis! Eat me all up!"
Unnoticed by either of us, the elevator doors quietly slid open on their well-greased tracks.
I thrust my tongue up into Jan's spasming tube and licked all over her inner walls.
"You two having fun?"
I pulled my tongue right back out of Jan's spasming tube and turned to see who'd spoken.
"I'm Lover-boy," said the black-haired young man standing just outside the elevator.
Jan straightened the front of her sarong and said, "We ... we ... we-"
"Two doors down on your left," Lover-boy said, smiling.
"Genghis was just showing me ... What were you just showing me, Genghis?"
"A new method of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," I said, standing back up.
"I don't need to be lied to, Jan and...."
"Genghis Lovekill," I said. "Call me Big G."
"And I'm called Lover boy, Big G. Now then, as I was saying, I don't need to be lied to; I understand and sympathize-and empathize, I might add-with your urges. A man couldn't be more liberal in matters sexual then I am; you need only read my button, and you'll see that."
He was referring to a large, circular button pinned on his shirt, the sort of button popular among hippies. His button read: screw everybody.
"Lover-boy," Jan put in, "you're to give Genghis here the works."
"Oh? Come with me, Big G," Lover-boy said. "By the way, this entire floor is mine; not to brag, but I'm quite an important man to the CIA."
I stepped out of the elevator and Jan pressed the button for the first floor and disappeared. I followed Lover-boy across the huge room we were in to his desk. We sat down, he behind the desk and I beside it, and I said conversationally, "Jan tells me you have some things up here that'll interest me, Lover-boy. Is she giving me the straight dope?"
"Definitely. I'm sure you'll be extremely interested in everything I have to show you. I must warn you, though, that you may at times be rather shocked."
"By what?"
"By the advanced state of some of the things I have to show you, let us say. You see, in many ways the United States is a far more advanced country science-wise than is commonly known. Anyway, I just want you to be prepared. Take off your clothes then come along with me, and you'll see what I mean."
"You want me to take off all my clothes?" I asked, standing and beginning to strip.
"Every stitch. You're not shy, are you?"
"Not in the least, Lover-boy. I just wanted to get things straight is all."
After I had stripped to the bugg, Lover-boy led me to what seemed to be a small room, situated more or less in the middle of the much larger room we were in. The "room" he led me to was surrounded on all sides except the door side by what looked to me like super-modernistic scientific equipment-huge copper coils, dozens of dials, brightly glowing lights of various colors, oddly shaped antennae, things of that nature. The "door" was constructed of some highly polished metal; no light leaked from its edges, which were covered with rubber stripping. "What have we here?" I asked.
"You'll have no use for this out in the field-it's not entirely perfected, and it's hardly portable-but it'll give you some idea of how advanced we are."
"What is it?"
"Just open the door and step inside, and you'll find out."
I did open the door and step inside, and Lover-boy closed the door behind me. As soon as the door was closed, I found myself floating in the small room; it was an anti-gravity chamber! Well, I suppose anti-gravity isn't quite the right word; there simply was no gravity in the room.
I lost my sense of reference almost immediately; within the room there was no up. no down, no sideways. It was a mentally jarring experience to be floating in there in a room seemingly without floor or roof, with only six walls.
After I became somewhat used to the environment I was in, I noticed that the light in the room came from no particular source. Rather, the light seemed to be a natural quality of the air in the room, just as darkness is a natural quality of outer space.
I didn't notice the girl until she called my name.
"Genghis," she said. "Come to me, Genghis. Come to me. Come to me." The words sounded strangely lyrical ... and strangely hypnotic, too.
I whipped my head around to face the direction from which the words had come ... and the force of my sudden movement sent me rolling, rolling, rolling. I collided with a wall-which was soft, as if made of rubber-and rebounded across the room.
And I crashed into the girl! She grabbed my hands and helped me come to a stop in mid-air. She laughed, but there was no ridicule in her laughter; there was a cosmic quality to the gay, reverberating sound, an air of enjoyment purely for the sake of enjoyment.
I stared at her, and my eyes bulged. She was almost too beautiful to look upon. She was the apotheosis of beauty.
She laughed again, apparently sensing my discomfort-a discomfort devoutly to be wished.
Her eyes were-blue doesn't pin down their color, but any other word would be even less fitting. Her hair, which flowed down to her perfect ass, was more than white-it was the color of iron heated to incandescence. Her breasts were-How do you describe heaven with words?
"Genghis, I've been waiting for you."
"How ... how long?" A supremely silly thing to say, but ... well, you had to be there, pal.
She laughed yet again, but this time she broke her laugh short by collapsing her incredibly soft lips against mine. Her mouth opened, and my mouth opened. Her moist pink stinger shot between my lips to play wonderful games with my own stinger and with the walls of my mouth.
When she ended the kiss-what an insufficient, bland word-my cock was a column of concrete jutting out from my tingling groin.
"I love you, Genghis, you lovely man."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Ah, Genghis, what's in a name? A rose by any other-"
"You're a reincarnation of Shakespeare!"
"No, Genghis," she said, giggling this time, "You funny, lovely divine man."
"I love you," I said, meaning it.
"Of course. How could you help yourself?"
"May I ... may I ... screw you?" Rather crudely put, I suppose, but it got the message across.
"If you don't, my love, I'll bite you to pieces and eat you up and digest you." It sounded more like a promise than like a threat.
I reached down and slipped my hand between her thighs. I cupped the tender bulge of her pussy and started gently massaging it.
"Mmm, Genghis, that feels wonderful. You know what you're doing to me? You're making me passionate, you lovely creature. You're making me desperately passionate. And I like it. I love it!"
I spread her cunt's precious, golden-fleeced folds and eased an anxious, feel-hungry finger into her moist slit. I stroked and stroked the length of her slit, pressuring her hot inner tissues ever so gently. "Hotness pretty, I want to eat you. I want so bad to eat you."
"Then do, Genghis!"
I used her arms and her sides and her hips to guide myself slowly "downward", until my face faced the honey-giving treasure of her crotch. My hands cupped the soft, flawless mounds of her ass, and I pulled my mouth toward and to her crack of love.
"Suck hard, Genghis! Make me know you're doing it!" The tip of my tongue breached the line formed by the locus of points where love's lips kissed. Her clitoris was blood-colored, swollen, beautiful; I licked madly at its throbbing, twitching tip.
"Ooh, Genghis! That's so nice! That's so terribly, wonderfully nice!"
-Abruptly I lowered my tongue and sent its full length up into the flaming harbor of her vagina. I began to screw her with my tongue, pumping and pumping for all I was worth.
"Screw me now, Genghis! I want that big cock of yours now! I want it in me! I want it ramming, ramming, ramming!"
I pulled my tongue out of her flower's sweet, hollow stem and asked, "What was that, wetness doll?"
"Don't tease me, Genghis! I said screw me! Get your untamed erection in my meat-grinder and screw the bejesus out of me!"
"Lemme get this straight." I felt light-headed, giddy, like a high school girl (a vast, blue pencil!) with a French tickler up her cranny. "Are you-perish forbid-trying to entice me to fornicate with you?"
"Yes!"
"Illegal, immoral, and habit-forming!" I protested, then ran the tip of my tongue over and through her pelt.
"Do it, Genghis! Do it ... or I'll ... I'll zap your dinkie-doo!"
"Curses! You wouldn't dare!"
"I would!"
"Then do your worst, my Lilith; I cannot forswear my principles."
She grabbed my cock, said, "Zap!" then let go.
"Ouch!" I yelped, then started tumbling backward over and over, faster and faster. "Stop me!" I screamed. "I'm getting diiizzy!"
She grabbed the head of my love limb and gave a powerful yank, ending my tumbles at a terrible cost; my love limb was stretched to a yard's length.
"What have you done to me?" I demanded to know, on the edge of hysteria.
"I've zapped your dinkie-doo, Genghis. Now maybe you realize that it doesn't pay to trifle with me."
"I'm ruined!"
Ignoring my cry, she gave another yank to my cock, stretching it even further. Then, adding insult to injury, she started slying round and round me, firmly clutching my knob. She was lying me up with my own lengthy reproductive tube!
"Ooh, too much!" she squealed, overjoyed.
"By about ten yards, at last count," I put in. "Tenderness hole, you can't do this to me!"
"I am doing it, Genghis!"
"This has gone too far!" I screamed.
"That's what you think." She was behind me now. She was stroking the first foot or so of my cock, making that part of it achingly hard. "You ready?" she asked.
"For what?"
"This!"
"Owoohoohoo!" I groaned.
She was sodomizing me with my cock! "Now will you screw me, Genghis?" she asked, stabbing and stabbing my knob through my pathetically tiny anus.
"Yes! Anything! But stop doooing that!"
"You promise?"
"Cross my heart!"
"Word of honor?" Pumpity pumpity pump.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!"
She yanked my knob out of my butt, clutched it tightly, and said, "Unzap!" Then she let it go, and my cock snapped, with a sharp crack, back to its normal length.
I whipped around, grabbed her, and whipped her around. I jabbed both my hands into her cream-lovely ass. "Genghis!" she shouted angrily. "You promised!"
"Under duress, tightness bottom, so it doesn't count."
"A promise is a promise!"
"You keep thinking that, wrinkled rosebud," I said, jabbing harder with my hands. Suddenly I felt her anus yield, and some kind of force drew my hands completely through the ring and into her rectum.
"Genghis, don't!" she cried out.
"I'm not-" Fffwooop! I was into her up to the elbows! "You're tearing me apart at the seams!"
"I-" Fffwooowooop ... plorerrrrgahgah! It was pitch dark. And so tight! I felt as if my head were being crushed.
From far away I heard a scream of pain, then-Fffwannhowmpahpah! Now my shoulders were trapped in the vise. Slump! Plup! Except for one foot my whole body was embedded within her. And I saw light ahead, light framed by the backs of two rows of teeth! I made a lunge, and my head popped out of her mouth. I felt her lips ringing my neck; it was weird, pal, to say the least.
"Mlfrfrfl."
I didn't even try to understand her. I lunged harder and came out to the waist. But my foot was still wedged outside her anus!
"Frmfldrmfvr."
I lunged still harder. Thork! But for that one foot of mine I was free. I craned my neck and peered over my shoulder. Inside her mouth was my ankle and her anus. I gave one last lunge ... and went sailing across the room. Bouncing back, I turned around ... and gasped.
She was inside out!
I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed in horror. My God, I thought, what've I done to her?
Finally I got up the nerve to reopen my eyes. Instead of her inside out I saw dozens of disembodied cunts! Sets of hairy-lipped labia foaming vaginas were all that were before me.
"Jesus!" I exclaimed.
Suddenly the cunts became animated. Their lips parted and closed, parted and closed, as if the cunts were breathing raggedly. And the slits between the lips became moist, lust-hungry.
My dick snapped erect. I was terrifically horny.
I grabbed the nearest of the cunts. Holding it by the outer surface of its vagina, I rammed my quivering bone home and started screwing it wildly in a desperate drive for release.
And I felt it biting me! I tore it off my shaft and looked down to see that it had grown teeth ... pointed teeth!
"I'm going crazy!" I screamed. "I'm going out of my mind!"
The cunt wrenched free of my hand, then all the cunts started attacking me. All of them had those pointed teeth, and they were biting, biting, biting.
I fainted.
"Well, did you have fun?"
I opened my eyes. I glanced up at Lover-boy's face.
"I'm sorry about the sudden power loss, Big G; I told you the thing wasn't perfected. You got a pretty nasty little bump, I'm afraid."
"They almost got me," I muttered, unable to think very clearly. "They all charged ... all at once. God, it was awful!"
"What're you talking about, Big G? You're not making any sense."
"All those cunts, with those sharp teeth. They-"
"Big G, you're still not making one damned bit of sense. Could you explain yourself?"
I told him in detail about the experiences I'd gone through only a short time before.
"Hnh," he snorted, apparently angry with himself. "I must've gone and injected the wrong combination of drugs into the room. You were supposed to have had an extremely enjoyable series of experiences. Incidentally, you were alone in there the whole time; everything that happened to you was a figment of your imagination, aided, of course, by a few potent dnt drugs ... everything, that is, but the fall and the lack of gravity."
"Well, real or not, Lover-boy, what I went through was far from enjoyable. Take my word for that."
"I'll make it up to you."
"Yeah? How? Whadaya mean?"
We were just outside the small room, I supine and still naked, Lover-boy-fully clothed-kneeling beside me. Suddenly he moved to between my legs and shot his face down toward the dangling equipment at the base of my gut.
"Hey!" I said. "What the hell you think you're gonna do, Lover-boy?"
"Make it up to you, like I said." He grabbed my balls and steered my rubbery' knob up to meet and pass between his parted lips. His hands gently pressured my balls, and his lips and tongue and even his teeth lightly caressed the rosy surface of my knob. My cock grew erect ... and grew and grew; Lover-boy was an expert at what he was doing.
"Lover-boy, you keep that up you're gonna get yourself a hot, heavy load," I warned him, my breathing harsh and jerky.
He didn't let up. In fact, he started sucking more and more vigorously. He even tried to penetrate the "eye" of my cock with the tip of his tongue, and that's what precipitated my release. It was jackpot time, and Old Faithful paid off generously.
After my dick had stopped squirting and calmness had returned to me, I asked, "You a queer?" Silly question on the face of it, but it didn't turn out to be altogether silly.
"Not exclusively," Lover-boy told me. "I'm a pan-sexualist: everything goes. Everything, that is, with one exception: I draw the line at homosexual bestiality-there's such a thing as pushing a good thing too far, after all."
I murmured noncommittally.
"Well, you can get up off your ass now, Big G. I've got a few things more to show you and a few items for you to take along with you when we part company."
I stood and followed him toward and past his desk. Behind the desk was a door; he opened it, and I followed him through the doorway.
"Where we headed?" I asked.
"Here." He opened a door off the hallway we were in.
I followed him into the room, which looked like a very ordinary bedroom. "Now what?" I asked.
"Lie down on the bed," he said, himself sitting down on a chair beside the bed.
"You're not planning on giving me another blow job, are you, Lover-boy?"
"No, no, nothing like that."
"What are you planning on?"
Out of one of the drawers of the bedside table he pulled a gadget that resembled a rectal thermometer. He pressed a button on the end of the gadget and held the gadget against my temple. "Hear it?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered, hearing a faint hum.
"This little thing's a Luster-Lust Unchained by the Stimulated Transmission of Erotic Rays."
"Clever term, Lover-boy."
"I coined it myself. Also, it so happens I invented the Luster. Here, I'll show you what it does." He slipped the hand holding the Luster between my thighs and rammed the Luster's button-less end up into my rectum.
"What the-" I started to protest. Abruptly my cock snapped violently erect. Never before had I felt so overwhelmingly horny. All that mattered now was that I attain release ... and quick!
"I don't have to explain what the Luster does, do I?" Lover-boy asked, grinning.
I ignored him. I gripped my shaft between my hands and started beating my meat frenziedly.
'That's not necessary," Lover-boy said, yanking the Luster out of me. "Don't go working yourself into a sweat over a toy, Big G."
'Toy!" I gasped, watching my cock go limp. "My God, that's some toy!"
"Compared to many of the things I'm presently working on, Big G, it's a toy and nothing more. It and another Luster exactly like it are yours, in any case; you may find some use for them. Lusters work on girls, too, by the way-quite effective in eliminating the need for foreplay." He returned the Luster to the drawer he'd taken it from. "Care for another demonstration of my talents?"
"Yeah, I guess," I answered rather apprehensively.
He flipped a switch on his tie clip. "One of my assistants will be along in a minute," he said. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny red capsule. "Toss this into her mouth, and watch what happens."
The girl who shortly joined us in the room was a buxom, pretty redhead. She was, like me, naked.
"None of my assistants ever wear clothes while on duty," Lover-boy explained. Winking, he added, "Clothes would only interfere with their duties."
"Hi, beautiful," I greeted the redhead.
"Her name is Sonya," Lover-boy said. "Sonya, this young man is Big G."
"Hi, Bi-"
I tossed the red capsule neatly up into her mouth; she gulped then swallowed it.
"Good shot, Big G!" Lover-boy exclaimed.
"It was pretty good, wasn't it?" I replied, proud of myself.
Suddenly Sonya let out of her throat a wild, inhuman cry and dived on top of me.
"She's hot, Big G," Lover-boy said. "That capsule you tossed into her mouth was a Grindgrind capsule-acts somewhat like the Luster, only the Grindgrind capsule lasts through just one orgasm ... which it intensifies at least a dozen fold."
"What ... what am I supposed to do?"
"I shouldn't have to tell you that, Big G."
Later Lover-boy demonstrated for my benefit other capsules and other devices, all of them functioning in their various ways to affect or effect sexual activity of one sort or another. When I left with Jane to be shown to my sleeping quarters-I'd spent many hours with Lover-boy-I was carrying a brief case that contained all the capsules and devices I'd been given.
Jan and I were on the building's third floor and were just entering my deeping quarters when she said, "Genghis, I'm ... I'm off duty."
"So?" I said in return, staring directly into her eyes.
"I could ... if you want me to ... spend the night with you."
I grabbed her into my arms and squeezed her tightly to me. I smashed my lips against hers, making the connection that I knew would really get the electricity flowing.
"Genghis!" she gasped, when I released her lips from the pressure of mine. "You kiss like dynamite!"
"You do things to me, baby," I said hoarsely, knowing the line should've been left dead of old age but breathing life into it with my sincerity, anyway.
Jan pushed the door closed behind us. "Are you gonna use any of those ... things?" she asked.
"With you, baby, I won't need 'em. Now get out of that crazy sarong and get up onto that bed. And spread those beautiful legs of yours wide apart."
"Oh, Genghis, I want you to screw me all night long! I don't want you to stop for even one second!"
"Baby, I'll keep it up as long as I can, and that's a promise," I said, again stripping as I watched Jan pull off her sarong and reveal entirely the voluptuous charms of her body.
Looking at her creamy nakedness was enough to give a man a coronary ... or a heart attack, at least.
Throughout the night the bedspring wasn't silent for a total of more than five minutes. We screwed until we both felt raw, then we went around the world and back again time after time, then we screwed some more.
The honey flowed freely. We had a helluva time.
CHAPTER SIX
Jan's palms were pulled tight against the backs of her knees; her thighs were drawn up and back, held close to her sides. Her unusually large nipples-the pretty plums were bigger than the tits of some of the girls I've screwed-were erect to the point of being bloated. Her face was stained red from achieving sexual satisfaction above and beyond the call of duty ; rivulets of sweat poured off her forehead and cheeks, drenching her hair. Her lips were formed into a thin, uneven line-a living portrait of lust. Her wide eyes were focused intently on my slow and long-stroking cock.
"Fun, huh?" I asked.
She tried to speak, but all that came out of her throat was a sharp, brief gasp of ecstasy. She next tried to smile over her inability to speak, but the curve of her lips grew into a circle before she'd completed the smile. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" she grunted, suddenly squeezing her eyes shut.
I felt the hot, syrupy walls of her man-hole quiver, tremble, spasm, throb. I pumped harder, harder, harder, leaning farther forward so that my bone was pressed more solidly against her blood-red clit. "I'm gonna make you come like crazy this time, baby," I promised her as evenly as I could-I wasn't far from coming myself.
She grunted again and elevated her feet to press them against my shoulders. She was on the edge of coming; just a few more thorough, clit-massaging strokes would send her tumbling and screaming into the abyss of release.
I bit into my lower lip. I invoked my will power to keep from spraying her insides with the jets of my own release. I rammed. I rammed. I rammed.
"AHHH!" Jan screamed, her crotch snapping up to slap hard against mine. "ANNN! AHHH!"
I stopped pumping and buried my cock to the hilt in her delightfully squeezing tube. I felt her wide-stretched, sopping wet cunt lips baptizing my pubic hair. I snorted like a cuckolded rhinoceros on discovering his wife and her lover in flagrante delicto; I squirted, squirted, squirted my hot load into her depths.
"Genghis," she whispered dreamily, "that was wonderful."
"I almost always make it wonderful for the girls I screw."
"Almost?"
"Well, I suppose I was being overly modest. Anyway, it's gonna be even better-"
"There's no time, Genghis. I was supposed to be down in the reception room half an hour ago."
"If you're half an hour late already, baby, another few minutes won't make any difference. Now flip over."
"Again?"
"You don't like getting it in the rear?"
"Yes, I do, but I'm afraid you'll stretch me out of shape back there permanently if you do it again. I wouldn't want my hand slipping in accidentally when I have cause to have my hand back there."
I chuckled and said, "Don't worry, baby. Your anus, like everybody's, is a very elastic port; it'll return to normal no matter how many times I bore my way through it."
"Are you sure? I mean, are you sure? I wouldn't wanna risk such an important thing on just an opin-"
"Sure? Why, I'm almost positive. In fact, I am positive. I happen to hold a B.S. in anal anatomy."
She frowned quizzically. "Aw, I don't believe that. They don't give a degree like that ... do they?"
"B.S.? They sure do; you can get a B.S. in most any-"
"I mean in anal anatomy."
"Oh. well, you should've spoken more precisely in the first place. I happen to hold a B.A. in public speaking."
"Genghis, you're teasing me ... aren't you?"
"Would I tease a beautiful creature like you?"
"I wouldn't put it past you."
"I don't want it past me; I want it around me. Now flip over."
"You're positively certain it's safe?"
"Yes, baby. Now kindly flip over."
She turned over then craned her neck to watch me.
I held my hands back-to-back and slipped them between her butt cheeks. I pried the rubbery mounds apart.
Maneuvering quickly, I worked my cock into the great divide and pushed my knob against her rosebud.
"Don't push it in too fast, Genghis," she cautioned me "The last time you did push it in too fast, and you practically killed me."
"Slow and easy, baby," I said, relieving her of her fear, then jabbed abruptly home.
Jan moaned from pain and yelped, "Hey!" She reached up over her back and tried to push at me. Failing, she dropped her arms back to her sides. "I said not too fast, goddamn it ... and you promised!"
"Promises are made to be broken, baby. Didn't you know that?"
"I'm not made to be broken! It hurts when you do it that way, Genghis."
"It won't hurt long. Now relax and keep your pretty little mouth shut." I started screwing her ass, glorying in the tightness of her anal sphincter.
"It makes me feel funny. You know that?"
"Funny?"
"Well ... it's kind of hard to explain. It's like I'm being stabbed and stabbed-all the way up into my belly-but without any pain."
"I thought you said it hurts."
"It doesn't any more."
"You see? Just like I told you."
"Mmm. You could go maybe just a little faster."
"How much faster?" I asked, increasing the speed of my thrusts but still keeping them deep-reaching.
"Oh, a little."
"Could you be more specific?"
"Well, just somewhat faster. You know."
"That's better. Thanks for pinning it down." I slammed my foot hard against the accelerator, sending my love engine's revs to the red line; I was pumping her lower depths as rapidly as I could.
'That's much better, but could you let me get up onto my hands and knees?"
"I despise back-seat drivers, baby. How 'bout you doing your part and letting me do mine?"
"It so happens you're doing the back-seat driving," Jan said, giggling.
"You got a point there. Wha-"
"And you have the point there."
I joined her in laughing. "It's not exactly a point, baby. Is a cantaloupe pointed?"
"A cantaloupe? Genghis, you bragger, you mean is a pea pointed, don't you?"
"Oh, so it's insult time, is it, Gonorrhea Lea? You happen to be dealing with the expert insulter, in case you didn't know. How do you keep your complexion so nice, by the way? Periodic sandblasting?"
She laughed again and said, "I didn't mean to get you mad, Genghis. I was only joking."
"Nothing makes me mad, baby ... except perhaps being continually accused of having raped my nanny. Now whadaya wanna get up onto your hands and knees for?"
"So you can tickle my fancy, of course."
"Well, I guess that's a satisfactory enough reason. You lift up with your ass as I draw back-I don't wanna break the connection."
"I don't want it broken, either," she said, lifting with me. 'Then you'd have to go and get that monster of yours in me again, and I don't like the way you do it."
"Hell, you're so desperately in love with me you'd gladly endure any pain as long as it resulted in my cock entering your sexcrazed body."
"You think so?"
I didn't reply. We were now in position for some dog-style screwing, so I returned to pumping her hard-gripping port with my already throbbing erection. Without one of the capsules Lover-boy had given me-a Slowcome capsule-I wouldn't be able to hold off the flood very long, but I didn't mind; I didn't want to be the cause of Jan's arriving too late at her post in the reception room.
"Play with my pussy," she said, her voice tinged with irritation over my apparent lack of consideration.
I shot my hands around her hips and sent them between her spread thighs to tackle her meat. I stretched apart the soft, fuzzy lips of her wet crack and started vigorously massaging her tender hard-on.
"Mmm, that feels so good," she murmured.
"It feels better than good, baby," I said throatily, pinching and releasing, pinching and releasing the swollen little tip of her clit as I pumped, pumped, pumped.
"Genghis, I'm already-Oh! Ohhh! I'm coming right now, Genghis!"
"Baby, baby, so am I!" My cock's "eye" flared wide, and from it gushed the hot, wild flow of my lust. "Oooh, baaaby!"
Jan tried to suppress her scream of ecstasy but couldn't; it tore its way out of her throat as her ass executed tight, thrusting circles against my groin. "I'm coming all over the place!" she groaned, then collapsed in a heap beneath me, her whole body quivering from the force of her release.
I jumped up onto my feet on the bed. I placed one of my feet on Jan's blushing butt and pounded my fists against my chest as I gave out with a Tarzan yell. Perhaps I was being a bit melodramatic, but a man had to have some way to express his pride, his sense of accomplishment.
Jan flipped over, sending me tumbling onto the floor. "I do believe you're something of a maniac, Genghis Lovekill," she said, smiling cutely.
"I'm a victim of my profession," I said cryptically. "But enough of talk; love's pleasures await us."
"Genghis, I have to get dressed and get down to the reception room ... but first I've gotta take you to Freddie."
"But first you've gotta get dressed," I said, correcting her linguistic imprecision. I spread my arms before me. "To think that the delights of the gods should be pushed aside to make room for such mundane matters; It's enough to drive a man to drink, fair Beatrice."
"Who's Beatrice? What're you up on, Genghis?"
"Beatrice, my heart, is a literary allusion, but you wouldn't know of such things, of course And what I'm up on is-I could say life, but I think it's the after effects of Lover-boy's drugs. Anyway, who's Freddie?"
"Freddie's in charge of weapons and propaganda. He's a fat little guy with a very large cock."
"Not larger than mine?"
"Oh, much larger."
"He must be a freak."
Later, Freddie answered Jan's knock and said, "Yes? What is it?"
"Another agent," Jan explained briefly. "His name is Genghis Lovekill."
"Oh? Fine. Come in, would you, Mr. Lovekill? I'm happy to meet you."
I entered the small office, and Jan, from outside the office, pulled the door shut. "Call me Big G," I said, returning Freddie's friendly smile.
"Big G, huh? All right. And feel free to call me Freddie; everybody does. It's not very professional-sounding, but what the hell? Sit down on the couch there, would you, Big G? Make yourself comfortable."
I sat down on the couch beside his desk, and he sat down beside me.
"Big G, I have some weapons to show you the likes of which you've never seen before. I'm rather proud of my babies, so I hope you'll show the proper interest in them."
"I can assure you I will. But what about this propaganda stuff? Jan told me you're in charge of it."
"And so I am. Nothing very big-deal, actually; I might as well get it out of the way before we get on the more important matters, eh?"
"Whatever you think is best, Freddie."
"Mm. Yes. Quite. Of course. Now then ... uh ... what were we talking about?"
"Propaganda," I reminded him, grinning at his absent-mindedness.
"Ah, yes, of course. You're a very sharp lad, Big G; I like that in boys. You wouldn't believe some of the boys we get here-not nearly of your caliber."
"Thank you, Freddie."
"You remind me of my son. He was a sharp lad, too. Pity they got him ... real pity. Did I ever tell you about my-No, no, of course not; how silly of me. Well, it's not important. What is important-What were we talking about?"
"Propaganda."
"Mm. Of course. Propaganda. Well, you gotta fight fire with fire, eh, Big G?"
"I guess so."
"Absolutely necessary, Big G: freedom depends on it. Now then, from time to time it may be necessary for you to dispatch people."
"Dispatch?"
"Do in, Big G; but we prefer the term dispatch. Anyway, there is the possibility these people on occasion may be women, children, what have you. Do you understand?"
"Of course."
"Good. Very good. You're a very sharp lad, Big G ... but I've already told you that, haven't I? Well, no matter. Now then, you will never report having killed women or children; you will report them as men, Big G-vicious, wild-eyed, murderous men. Do you understand?"
"You want me to lie?"
"That's a layman's naive term, Big G; we prefer selective misidentification. And we have our reasons for selective misidentification-good reasons; it's a matter of propaganda, Big G, just as Janice said: the incidental results of espionage and counterespionage-including what we call black operations-must be made to fit the mold of public acceptability ... even if that requires a little harmless trimming. In any event, the age and sex of a dead person-a dispatched person. Do you see what I'm driving at? There's no harm in selective misidentification, but good can and does come from it."
"It sounds kind of ... well, unethical."
"If freedom doesn't survive, Big G, of what importance will ethics be? Just trust the decisions of your higher-ups; they're intelligent men; they know what they're doing."
"If you say so, Freddie."
"I do. Now then shall we get on to my babies?"
"Why not?"
"Mm," he murmured, standing. "Come with me."
I followed him through the door opposite the one I'd come into the office through. What we entered was a shooting gallery. Freddie led me to the counter and picked up off it a small pistol of some kind that looked like a derringer, but this pistol had a bulbous, grape-sized projection extending from each of its lateral sides.
"Some sort of derringer?" I ventured as Freddie handed the pistol to me.
"Not at all; this little baby fires sound, Big G."
"Sound?" I said, not sure I'd heard him correctly. "Do you mean-"
"That's exactly what I mean; you merely squeeze the trigger, and the Boomer-that's what the little baby's called-fires an extremely loud ... call it a sound 'bullet'. Go ahead and give it a try."
"At what?"
"At one of those targets, of course," Freddie said, gesturing with an outstretched finger at the line-up of cardboard animals fifty or so feet beyond the counter.
"Should I ... will I have to cover my ears ... or anything? I mean, sound 'bullets', like you said ... and extremely loud ... won't they-"
"You have nothing to fear, Big G; the sound 'bullets' are unidirectional; they cover no more area than a normal bullet does. In fact, that's one of the chief values of the Boomer: its virtually total silence beyond the area traversed by the sound 'bullet'. Now go on and try it."
I aimed between the challenging eyes of a tiger and squeezed the Boomer's trigger. I didn't hear anything, but I knew the Boomer had accomplished its task; a fire broke out between the tiger's eyes and quickly spread to engulf the entire head of the creature. "Jesus!" I exclaimed. "Amazing!"
"Quite. It has the same effect on people; it's all part of the nature of extremely loud sound. Incidentally, the Boomer is much more accurate than any conventional hand weapon and has a much greater range. Unlike normal bullets, sound 'bullets' are virtually unaffected by the pull of gravity."
"Interesting," I said.
"I thought you'd think so, Big G. But the Boomer is, in most circumstances, no match for the pretty baby sitting on the counter there before you ... as you'll discover."
"Oh?" I said, pocketing the Boomer. I looked down at the weapon he'd referred to save for its metal handle-and-trigger assembly-at one end of it-it looked like a simple cylinder of blue glass about four inches long and half an inch in diameter. "What is it?" I asked.
"In science fiction stories it would, I suppose, be called a ray gun. Essentially it's only an advanced raser. You do know what a raser is, don't you?"
"I'm afraid not, Freddie."
"Well, a Roentgen ray is another name of an X-ray. You know that, don't you?"
"I do now."
"Okay. Now then, a raser is akin to a laser, only a raser is the product of Roentgen ray amplification through the stimulated emission of radiation as opposed to light amplification ... and so on. Actually, the difference between the raser and the laser is rather more complicated than that, but you needn't concern yourself about such things. That baby is called a Raserizer, by the way. Pick it up, and I'll demonstrate how to work it and what it does." I picked up the Raserizer and looked it over closely. "It's a neat-looking weapon," I commented, "if you can call a weapon neat."
"It is indeed, Big G. But the Raserizer's neatness is of no importance; its deadliness is."
"Naturally. You were going to demonstrate it," I prompted him, sensing that he was about to have another attack of forgetfulness.
"Yes." He pressed a button on the counter, and a living rabbit scooted out from under the line-up of cardboard animals. "See that rabbit?"
"Cute little thing," I said in reply.
"That rabbit, Big G, is not a rabbit; it's a vicious, wild eyed, murderous Viet Cong."
"Sure does look like a rabbit."
"Well, it is, as far as that goes, but can't you pretend? Where's the child in you, for heaven's sake?"
"'And the child's cly in the silence curses deeper than the strong man in his wrath,' " I quoted cryptically.
"What? What is that, Big G?"
"A quote. One of my favorites. You made me think of it."
"Sounds kind of subversive."
"It's from Browning ... Elizabeth."
"Mm. Better watch those new-fangled poets, Big G; some of 'em-most of 'em, in fact-are on our list."
"What list?"
"Skip it. I shouldn't've brought that up, anyway. Now then ... where were we?"
"You were talking about ... about that Viet Cong there ... with the fuzzy ears."
"Well, pretend it's a Viet Cong. And shoot it with this-Here, give it to me; I'll set it for you."
I handed him the Raserizer and watched him fiddle with a couple of dials on one side of its handle.
"There we are," he said, returning the Raserizer to me. "Now blast that Viet Cong."
I squeezed the Raserizer's trigger. The rabbit abruptly stopped moving, but nothing seemed to be wrong with him. "You sure you got this thing set right, Freddie?" I asked.
"I know my babies, Big G. There is goes! Look at him! He's rotting!"
"I can smell him," I said, closely watching the rabbit rot to pieces. "What the hell kind of weapon is this?"
"Isn't it beautiful, BigG.?" Freddie said excitedly. "Oh, it makes me shiver! The Raserizer is my greatest success in life, my boy! It never ceases to thrill me!"
"Calm down, Freddie, and tell me a little more about this thing."
"Dear me, I guess I got carried away," Freddie said. tearing his eyes away from the pile of rotten flesh that had been a rabbit. "I shouldn't show my pride so, should I? Not becoming, I don't suppose. What was that you said?"
"What're these dials for?"
"The lower one is for setting the approximate distance to the target; the upper one is for setting the circumference of rot you wish."
"Circumference of rot?"
"Say three people standing pretty close together are coming at you, and they're about twenty feet from you when you're ready to let 'em have it. In that situation you'd want the Raserizer's lower dial set for a distance of twenty feet and you'd want its upper dial set for a circumference of rot of about eight feet or so-to be sure you'd rot all three of 'em."
Suddenly there came a buzzing sound from Freddie's office.
"What's that?" I asked.
"A buzzing sound from my office."
"What's it mean, I mean?"
"A call for me. Wait here, would you?"
"Sure."
Only a couple of minutes after leaving, he returned. "I'm afraid I won't be able to show you any more of my babies, BigG."
"Oh?"
"Take the Raserizer and the Boomer with you. You're to get your things from your sleeping quarters-she said something about a very hot brief case-and report downstairs to Janice as quickly as possible. She mentioned a character named Two Fingers, said he'd sent a jet here to pick you up right away."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Be Tu met me at Tan Son Nhut and led me into the terminal. I trusted that she was doing the right thing until she led me into a storage room; when she started stripping, I knew she had on her mind something Two Fingers hadn't told her to have on her mind.
"What're you doing?" I asked.
"Taking off clothes."
"I know that!" I said sharply. "I mean, what's the big idea? Two Fingers wants to see me about something urgent, you horny little thing, or he wouldn't have whisked me so abruptly away from where I was."
"Okay, Two Fingers, wait. This more important, G.I."
"This?"
"Boom-boom. What you? Dumb?"
"Goddamn, Be Tu, we can't do this!"
"Bullshit! You got a cock; I got a pussy-we can do sure thing, that's right."
"We shouldn't, I mean. Damn, Be Tu, you with your sexy body, always leading me off the path of duty. You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Take off clothes, talk-talk boy. I very want we boom-boom, okay?"
Well, what could I do? When you've got an extremely high sex drive, as I do, you're easily seduced. I tried to fight it-I really did-but my dick got hard, anyway.
"What you got in suitcase, G.I.?" Be Tu asked, as she pushed down her panties and stepped out of them.
"Brief case. And what's in it is no concern of yours," I stepped out of the pile of my pants and shorts and began unbuttoning my shirt. "Whadaya wanna know for?"
"Gotta have reason? Just curious. Okay? You put it down; we boom-boom now."
"Gimme a second to get my shirt off, huh?"
"Hurry, boy. You alla time you very too slow, make Be Tu wait so long she gonna be old lady. How come is?"
"I just don't have your spunk," I said, tossing my shirt to the floor. "But I'm ready now."
Be Tu rushed into my arms and said, "Kiss me, boy."
"What's Two Fingers wanna see me about?"
"Funny way of kissing-ask a question. That American way?"
"Don't be silly. Just answer the question, then I'll kiss you."
"Can't answer. You think Two Finger tell me everything? I just a messenger boy."
"Messenger girl."
"Same thing."
"Not quite," I said, then cupped her hot young tits with my hands as I smashed my lips against hers.
When the kiss was broken, Be Tu stared up at me and said, "I love you like crazy, G.I. You know that?"
"You love my cock."
"You betcha life. You got a very fine cock, best one I ever know."
"That a fact?"
"Biggest, too."
"That you didn't have to tell me; I happen to hold the world record."
"Enough talk, eh, boy? Now we boom-boom."
"I'm ready if you are."
She grabbed the head of my shaft and guided it to the mouth of her vagina. "I plenty ready," she said, hunching down to trap my knob in her wet warmth.
"We gonna do it standing up?"
"Got to, floor too messy."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." I pushed up, penetrating her completely.
"Ooh, that's good, big boy."
I held her by the small of her back. "Throw your legs up around my waist," I said.
She did, locking her ankles together behind me.
"Fine," I said. "Now put your arms around me and hold on tight, 'cause I'm gonna give it to you fast and furious."
"Just how Be Tu like," she said, her hands snaking under my arms.
"Be Tu likes it any way, and you know it. But she's really gonna like it this way."
She moaned. I had started thrusting my bone in her honeyed tube, and her hard little clit was getting rubbed vigorously in this position. "Faster, boy!" she squealed. "I like so fast you can go!"
I pumped faster, stinging her hot meat with my hard-stabbing erection. I gripped her far back on her hips and squeezed open the cheeks of her butt to make room between them for my fingers. I rammed my fingers quickly into her great divide and pinched and tickled the entire length of the tender crack.
"Oh, you huri me!" she groaned, her ecstasy showing through her weak smile. "You gonna pinch me up, boy!" Faster and faster I plunged my thick shaft along the stretched walls of her vagina. I added a new twist to my movements-or her movements, rather-working her middle circularly as I stabbed, stabbed, stabbed her delightful hole.
"Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy! You hurt me go gooood, you wonnerful G.I.! I love you too much! I love you to pieces! Unh! Unh! Unnnh!" She was close to coming; her pussy was beginning to spasm around, grip, milk my wild bone. "Ahhh!" she moaned, then began biting my shoulder in a fit of lust.
Now I pried the cheeks of her butt almost sadistically far apart, and I crammed my throbbing cock into her depths and gritted my teeth. "Eeyiii!" I gasped, my load gushing as her pussy squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.
"BOOOY!" she grunted, then sighed long and low, the side of her face resting against my shoulder, her lips repeatedly kissing my neck.
"Enough, Be Tu. Time to get down off your daddy."
"Too comfortable up here, G.I. You carry me, we go Two Finger, okay?"
"Baby, we're both naked. It wouldn't look right."
"Yeah, I guess you right on that, G.I. You better let me get down, we get dressed."
"I'm not holding you up, baby."
"You got hands in ass still, boy you, you."
She was right; removing my hands from the friendly warmth of her rump had slipped my mind. I took them out now and let her climb down to the floor.
"I think maybe you ruin my ass, G.I.-stretch him all apart. I gonna have to go bae-si, have him take a look, see if okay or gonna need help."
"Bac-si? Baby, keep in mind I don't speak the language, would you?"
"Bac-si is doctor, crazy boy. How come you alla time so stupid?"
"Born that way, I guess," I said, slapping her solidly on the ass. "I don't think you'll have to go to any doctor; I think you've got about the healthiest ass I've ever run across."
"Don't you bang my ass, G.I.! Didn't I didn't tell you I very tender girl ... easy to damage?"
I laughed, slapped her again, then started putting my clothes back on. "Two Fingers is gonna be pissed, baby, if I don't report to him soon."
"What is pissed?" Be Tu asked, putting her clothes back on. "Speak English, stupid."
"It means angry. And quit being so sharp-tongued if you don't wanna get belted."
"Hey, boy, I already punch you up once. Boy, boy, you're asking for it again, you know? But I nice girl, very sweet, let you go with a warning this time. Don't let him happen again, or...." She punched me lightly.
I returned her light punch and said, "Knock off the clowning, baby, and finish dressing."
Finally we left Tan Son Nhut and taxied to the Ambassador Hotel. We descended the "elevator" under the front desk-after Be Tu and the clerk had gone through the "entrance ritual"-and jumped down into the reception room. Miss Funnymoney wasn't in sight, so we went directly to the office door. I cracked it open to see if Two Fingers was in.
"My God!" I gasped.
He lay prone by his desk, the blade of a knife buried in his bloodied neck. On her knees leaning over him was Miss Funnymoney, her hands wrapped around the knife's handle.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I Threw the door completely open and ran to where Two Fingers lay-I pried Miss Funnymoney's fingers from about the knife's handle and roughly shoved her away, sending her tumbling onto her back. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that I could see right up to her naked crotch; I fought off desire, an inner sense telling me that now was no time to be entertaining thought of screwing.
Standing behind me, Be Tu gasped from shock. "How come Miss Funnymoney...?" The question died in her throat.
I pulled the knife blade slowly out of Two Fingers' neck then tossed the knife aside.
Miss Funnymoney screamed.
I looked at her and saw that I had inadvertently stabbed her in the left butt cheek. Thinking quickly, I said, "Be Tu, see to Miss Funnymoney ; she's been hurt."
I rolled Two Fingers over and tried to check his pulse; he had no pulse to check. "He's dead," I announced.
"I ... I ... I killed him," Miss Funnymoney said, then began crying.
"Why?" I demanded to know, staring at her crotch-having assured myself that Two Fingers was beyond help, I couldn't think of any reason why I shouldn't now entertain thoughts of screwing.
"I ... I ... I don't know why-Ouch! Be Tu! Please be more careful!"
"Sorry, Miss Funnymoney; hand slip."
I climbed over Two Fingers' body and knelt between Miss Funny money's arched and spread legs. While rubbing her love lips, I shouted, "You don't know why! That's crazy!"
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I think I ... I remember ... something."
"What?"
"Only flesh wound," Be Tu told Miss Funnymoney. "You ass gonna be very okay. Just put maybe a little patch-"
"Quiet, Be Tu. Let Miss Funnymoney tell me what she remembers."
"I was at a little restaurant, grabbing a bite to-No, no, I never got around to eating. The waiter came over and-Ooh, Genghis, you're tickling me!"
I glanced at my hands at the base of her tummy and saw that, true enough, I was tickling her-tickling her clitoris, to be precise. Reluctantly I drew my hands away from her pussy and said, "Go on with your story."
"What you want I do with knife?" Be Tu asked me.
"Oh, just toss it a-No, don't do that; set it down on the desk there," Miss Funnymoney continued, "The waiter came over and smiled this awful, hideous smile-his teeth were in terrible shape-and said, 'You're under my power. You're under my power. You're under my power.' He said it again and again. And he was holding this shiny round thing-holding it by a chain-and swinging it before my eyes, and he kept saying, 'You're under my power. You're under my-' "
"The bastard hypnotized you!"
"Yes!"
"And he told you to kill Two-But I thought it was impossible to make a person do anything against his or her will with hypnosis."
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Yes. Yes, I remember now how he got around that; he told me it wasn't a knife, what he gave me; he told me it was a love prod, and he told me I was madly in love with Two Fingers and would have to prod him with the love prod to get him to be madly in love with me. And that's what I did, only it wasn't really a love pro-The bastard!"
"Two Fingers?"
"No, stupid; I mean the waiter. My God, he made me kill my boss!"
"Of all the diabolical, ruthless, treacherous-You gotta help me get him, Miss Humordough; we must avenge the untimely demise of our beloved leader."
"Vengeance! Yes."
"By the way-I hope you don't mind my asking-why aren't you wearing any panties? When I was here before, you weren't wearing any because-this is what you told me-you'd forgotten to wear them. Did you forget again?"
"Oh, no!"
"What's wrong?"
"I was wearing 'em! Genghis, I had 'em on! You ... you don't think-Oh, no!"
"The bastard!"
"Raped me! Oh, no!"
"Probably told you he was giving you a penicillin shot."
"Of all the diabolical, ruthless-Genghis, let's go get the bastard!"
I stood up and helped Miss Funnymoney to her feet.
She looked at Be Tu and said, "Be Tu, you wait at the desk up in the lobby and tell any agents who wanna report in that there's no one below. Tell 'em to wait around, that I'll be back in an hour or so. Can you do that?"
"Yes Miss Funnymoney."
After we'd left Two Fingers' office-the late Two Fingers' office-and piled into the "Elevator", we climbed up into the lobby.
"Oh, by the way, Genghis," Miss Funnymoney said "we had all your things brought over from Camp Alpha; they up in room 208."
"Good. I haven't had a shower or a shave or changed my clothes since I left Camp Alpha; I've been feeling pretty funky lately, lemme tell you. Let's go up right now, huh? That waiter can wait."
"You won't go making another pass at me up in the room, will you?"
"Not if you don't want me to."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
Ten minutes later I stepped quietly out of the bathroom in room 208, having showered and shaved. Naked, I tiptoed across the bedroom to where Miss Funnymoney was sitting on the bed. She was facing away from me, apparently deep in thought, as I leaned over the bed and shot my hands around the cup her tits through her blouse.
"Genghis!" she yelped, whipping her head around to stare up at me.
"Yes, Miss Titterwad, my precious?" I said, beginning to massage her tits with light squeezes.
"You promised not to!"
"Not to what?"
"Not to make a pass at me up here!"
"It's your body, Miss Treasuretoken; it drives me out of my mind with mad, passionate desire. Lemme screw you. Lemme! Lemme! Lemme! Or I'll die of disappointment."
"Genghis, we've gotta do something about your incredible sex drive."
"You'll submit to my needs, huh?"
"I didn't say-Oooch! Not so hard, Genghis!"
"Sorry," I said, then I yanked backward, pulling her onto her back. Her skirt slipped down her thighs, revealing the glory of her crotch; before she could protest, both my hands attacked her soft center.
"Genghis, this has got to stop!"
"My precious, why fight destiny?"
"We are government employees, Genghis; we must do what we're paid to do!"
"And so we shall, you hot thing, but not until we've tasted love's sweet delights."
"This isn't love; it's lust!"
I climbed up onto the bed and used Miss Funnymoney's crotch as a handle to reposition her body on the bed. I moved between her legs as I said, "You shouldn't allow mere words to get in the way of what we feel for each other."
"I never said-Genghis, you shouldn't!"
I had moved my hands out of the way and was now rubbing the head of my cock up and down in her wet crack. "Don't fight it," I said then abruptly rammed home, bringing an ecstatic groan from Miss Funnymoney.
Just as my knob slammed against the neck of her womb, there came a knock at the door.
"Goddamn!" I exclaimed angrily, uncunting. "What a time to be interrupted." Climbing off the bed, I said to Miss Funnymoney, "You stay right where you are, my precious; me and my hard-on'll be back in just a moment."
"You're not gonna answer it, are you?"
"And why shouldn't I?"
"You're naked, Genghis ... and your weenie is sticking out and all."
"Oh, hell, don't be such a prude," I said, turning to go to the door. "Besides, if it's who I think it is, she's seen me naked before ... and seen my weenie sticking out and all, too; so don't work yourself up into a sweat."
My expectation was fulfilled: it was Be Tu. I opened the door wide and told her to come on in.
"Be Tu, what're you doing up here?" Miss Funnymoney asked, irritated that the lovely native girl had disobeyed her.
"I ask desk man to watch for agents, tell 'em like you say, Miss Funnymoney. Okay, huh? Be Tu pretty smart girl, got a big brain inside head, you bet."
"The fact remains that you disobeyed me."
"I gonna help you get waiter person. Don't be mad on me, Miss Funnymoney."
"She might be able to give us a little help, at that," I put in.
"I should put her on report."
"Oh, no!" Be Tu yelped fearfully.
"But she won't, Be Tu," I said, taking her by the hand and leading her toward the bed. "Now take off your thiiigs; pleasure before business."
"Genghis, three's a crowd," Miss Funnymoney said, frowning.
"True, but I like crowds."
"Well, do you see the guilty waiter anywhere?" I asked Miss Funnymoney.
We were sitting about a small table in the open-air restaurant-Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and I. Besides hoping to find the waiter who'd hypnotized Miss Funnymoney, we were anxious to get some service; back in room 208 we'd all worked up a pretty good appetite.
"No," Miss Funnymoney answered my question.
"We'll have to ask one of the other waiters about him, if one of 'em'll ever come over to our table." I grabbed up a dirty steak knife that had been left on the table and started gesturing angrily with it. "This place has lousy service," I said. "Is it always this bad?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is," Miss Funnymoney said. "But this is the only restaurant near the Ambassador Hotel, so this is where I generally eat."
"Waiter there," Be Tu said.
"Where?" I looked in the direction Be Tu was looking. At the same time I swung the steak knife in a wide half circle, forgetting that I had it in my hand.
The waiter groaned then collapsed to the floor.
"Genghis, you've killed him!" Miss Funnymoney gasped. "Oh, no!" I looked at the blood on the blade of the steak knife then, horrified by the sight, tossed the knife into the air. "What've I done!"
"You shouldn't have been so careless," Miss Funnymoney reprimanded me.
I heard a groan from behind me. I whipped my head around and groaned myself, shocked by the sight confronting me; the steak knife had come down, its blade piercing into the top of a native gentleman's head. The man was sitting with a young native girl-his daughter, I guessed-at the table next to the one Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and I were at. The man was slumped over, his face buried in a bowl of some sort of soup. "Oh, no!" I said again. "What've I done?"
"Genghis," Miss Funnymoney said firmly, "You've got to be more careful!"
The girl sitting next to the man with the impaled head stared angrily at me and shouted, "Yankee pig! You kill my papasan! What'sa big idea, huh?"
"I'm sorry," I said contritely. "I really am. It was an accident."
"You make me orphan, wild dog! I hate you! I hate you!"
"You're still got a mother, haven't you?"
"She die when I born. I all alone now ... vicious madman!"
"Look, girl, I'm getting tired of being called names. You act like I killed him on purpose, and I've already told you I did no such thing. Besides, we don't yet know for sure he's dead."
"He got knife in head, no?"
"Well, he could still be alive, anyway." I reached around and gripped the knife's handle to pull the blade out of the man's head. The blade was buried pretty deep; I had to use all my strength to pull it out. Finally I got the task done, but the knife slipped out of my hand as its blade suddenly came free.
The man's daughter groaned then slumped down over the table, driving the knife deeper into her chest.
"Oh, no!" I said yet again. "What've I done?"
"Genghis," Miss Funnymoney shouted a little hysterically at me, "You've got to stop doooing that!"
"What?" I asked, turning to look at her.
"Killing people right and left!"
'There's no need to be melodramatic about it, Miss Riddlebank. After all, it's not as if I meant to kill any of em.
"Well, I know you didn't mean to, of course, but just the same-"
I interrupted her. "Be Tu, how 'bout going and getting the manager of this place."
"You gonna turn in you?"
"No, I'm not gonna turn in me!" I shouted. "My God, a guy has a few little accidents, and people start treating him like a damned murderer or something! Just do as I say, would you, and don't gimme any back talk?"
"Whatever you think is best," she answered, then stood and walked off to find the manager.
'That girl is entirely too sassy," I said conversationally to Miss Funnymoney.
"I can't get over it. I just can't get over it."
"Be Tu's sassiness?"
"No. What you've done here. Couldn't you've been more careful, Genghis? Did you have to go gesturing with that knife? There's just no excuse for killing innocent-"
"I didn't kill 'em ... exactly; they ... they sort of got killed. Anyway, you're hardly the one to talk, Miss Comedyquarter."
"And just whadaya mean by that?"
"Who was it that killed Two Fingers? Just answer me that, will you?"
"That is hardly the same, Genghis! You weren't hypnotized! Of all the lousy nerve, comparing my killing with yours!"
"Well, hell, let's just drop the whole thing, huh? I don't feel like talking about it. I didn't mean to do any killing, and that's all there-"
"Manager here," Be Tu interrupted.
I looked up at the man standing next to her. "We'd like to know about-"
"He no talking English, G.I.," Be Tu said. "I be happy to can interpret."
I told Miss Funnymoney to describe to Be Tu the waiter who'd hypnotized her. After she did so, I told Be Tu to relay the description and ask the manager where the waiter was.
"Waiter quit all of a suddenly," Be Tu said after a moment.
"Why?" I asked.
Be Tu again talked in Vietnamese with the manager. Then she glanced once more at me and said, "Waiter no give reason to quit. He beaucoup nervous, say he gotta quit. That's all. Then he go and don't come back."
"Ask for his address-the waiter's address, I mean; we'll have to look him up at his home."
The manager wrote the name and address of the waiter in question on a napkin he grabbed up from a nearby table. He handed the napkin to me then, after exchanging words with Be Tu, stared at the dispatched man and daughter and at the dispatched waiter at his feet.
"He wanna know what the hell is big idea all these dead people, boy," Be Tu said. "He mad on you."
"Tell him I'm a secret agent, that all three of 'em were vicious Viet Cong."
"He no gonna believe, I think; lie pretty sharp cookie, talk real swift, you bet."
"I don't give a shit whether he believes me or not.., and you can tell him that, too. And you can tell him one other thing; we'd like to get some food and drink at this table-any thing decent for three."
"Whatever you think is best."
"And stop saying that!"
"Whatever you think is best."
When we finally left the restaurant, we couldn't go directly to the waiter's house because I'd left my official, top-of-the-line CIA screw-and-dispatch kit back in room 208 in the Ambassador Hotel. We hurried back to the hotel, wanting to waste as little time as possible.
"Seems to me the only weapon you need is a knife," Miss Funnymoney said.
"Are you gonna start in on that again?" I asked, not amused by her cruel sarcasm. "Anyway, I have more than just kill things back in the hotel, as you well know."
"Oh, don't be so touchy, Genghis. I was only joking with you."
"Funny way you have of joking."
"All of our agents dispatch a few innocent people once in a while. Three in one day, though, I think, gives you the record for this month."
I muttered irritably at her then locked my hands together behind my back and started whistling Dixie.
Ten minutes later she, Be Tu, and I were stuffed into one of the tiny Vietnam-style taxis and heading out to where the waiter lived.
Ten more minutes later we were piling out of the taxi a few hundred feet up the street from his house-we didn't want him to see a taxi pulling up in front of his house, fearing the sight would cause him to split before we could stop him.
"We gonna kill waiter?" Be Tu asked, as we walked stealthily toward the waiter's house.
"After what he did to me, Be Tu," Miss Funnymoney said, "we certainly are."
"But not before we get as much information out of him as we can," I put in.
We were now at the comer of the front yard of the waiter's house. Half standing, half kneeling-very, very stealthy-we made our way slowly toward the front door. "All right, imperialist cowards, put 'em up all hands!"
CHAPTER NINE
Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and I spun around to face the man who'd accosted us.
"Capitalist lackeys, I say put 'em up all hands! You no unnerstand simple orders?"
"That's him-the waiter who hypnotized me and raped me!" Miss Funnymoney shouted, as she shot her hands straight up into the air so forcefully she lifted her feet from the ground for a moment.
The waiter had a rifle trained on the three of us, and the look on his face convinced me that he'd use it without hesitation if any of us provoked him. Following Miss Funnymoney's lead, Be Tu and I raised our hands.
"Craven scum gonna kill Tung, huh?" the waiter said, grinning evilly. "Ha! Tung get drop on, gonna fix bicycles alla you boot-licking pimps."
"Wagons," I corrected him.
"Huh?"
"You're gonna fix our wagons, " I said.
"Damn tootin', Yankee turd."
"Now just wait a minute there. I don't mind being called a Capitalist lackey, but being called a Yankee turd riled me.
"Shut up now! You wanna get killed, insane enemy of the proletariat?"
"Well, when you put it that-"
"Shut up now! Alla you, turn around and go in house ... and make it snappy.", "What he gonna do on us?" Be Tu asked me fearfully as all four of us proceeded into the house.
"Says he's gonna fix our bicycles," I told her. "I think he means he's goona kill us."
"But little, sweet Be Tu too young to die!" Be Tu shrieked, dramatically clutching her tits. "I wanna live, G.I.! Don't let him kill me dead!"
"That's sure right I'm gonna kill you. But first I'm gonna pump alla you."
"Pump us?" I said, wanting clarification.
"For information, crazy dumb fool pig. Alla you gonna sing, or I torture you, then kill you! Now sit down on couch there, alla you, before my dander goes up."
"You wouldn't shoot women, would you?" I asked, taking my place between Be Tu and Miss Funnymoney on the couch. "It would be uncivilized."
"I am uncivilized," the waiter proclaimed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Civilization no good, too much smog, bad for sinuses. Now sing, pig!"
"What would you like to hear?"
"Oh ho, gonna be a smarty-trousers, huh? You really asking for trouble, viperous leech; Tung got a very big hate for smarty-trousers. You just better tell me everything you know-who's in charge, things like that-or such an awful fate it makes Tung shiver for you. Unnerstand?"
"Listen, Tung, old boy, I'm not sure I understand just what sort of information you're after. Could you straighten things out on that point?"
"Didn't I already ask you who's in charge, you no-account cattle-rustier?"
"You're in charge at the moment."
"Oh ho, again, huh? You better learn to toe the line, or its curtains for you. Now who's your leader?"
"He was Two Fingers, but you engineered his demise."
"Who's his leader?"
"I haven't the foggiest idea. Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder who I am-something to do with my line of work, I think."
"Vee haff vays of making you talk."
"What is that bit? You're not German ... are you?"
"Ha! Pretty good, huh? I learn that on one of your immoral Yankee-dog movies. Vee haff ways of making you talk. Ha! You know something, treacherous ravager? That tickles my laughing bone."
"You're the ravager!" Miss Funnymoney accused angrily. "You hypnotized me then raped me!"
"For the good of my countrymen," Tung said solemnly, giving us his I'm-a-saint look.
"That's ridiculous!" Miss Funnymoney said. "What good did your raping me do your countrymen?"
"Question, question, question! I want answers! Besides, Yetat c'est moi, uncultured slut. Dig?"
"Genghis," Miss Funnymoney shouted at me, "he called me an uncultured slut! Are you gonna let him get away with it?"
"Uh-huh."
"You are?"
"You heard me the first time, my precious. What is it that you object to, by the way; being called uncultured or being called a slut?"
"Both! And I don't think that was funny."
"Well, I'll ask Tung to apologize. Will that do?"
"I guess it'll have to."
"Tung," I said, "I'm gonna have to ask you to apologize to this woman."
"Tung refuses!"
"Says he refuses," I told Miss Funnymomey.
"I heard him!"
"Enough of decadent mumbo jumbo," Tung said. "I want the facts, and nothing but the facts. Unnerstand?"
"Do you want all three of us to answer that individually?" I asked. "Or may I speak as group leader?"
"What you got in bag?" Tung asked, nodding in the direction of the brief case between my feet that contained my official, top-of-the-line CIA screw-and-dispatch kit. "None of your business," I told him curtly.
"Sing, Yankee turd!"
"I'm gonna ask you one more time to refrain from calling me that."
"I said sing, Yankee turd!"
"All right, be that way ... but I must tell you I think you're about the rudest man I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."
"Sing!"
"Did anyone ever tell you, you've got a one-track mind?"
"Cutthroat spoiler, my patience is nearing its end! What you got in bag? Tell me!"
"I can't; it's strictly against the rules, Tung. All the stuff in this brief case is top secret. You wouldn't want me to break the rules, would you?"
"You wouldn't want me to chop off your focky-focky, would you?" Tung retorted.
"Well, when you put it that-"
"Open bag!"
I opened bag.
"Whatcha got?" Tung asked impatiently.
I pulled one of my two Lusters out of the brief case and held it up for Tung's visual inspection.
"What is?" he asked. "Look like nhiet-ke ty."
I asked Be Tu what a nhiet-ke ty was.
"Thernamomo for ass," she told me. "You know?"
"Thernamomo for for ass, huh? Yeh, that's what it looks like."
"What is?" Tung persisted.
"It's a revolutionary new weapon," I told him. "It will allow the forces of good to vanquish the forces of evil finally and forever."
"Revolutionary weapon, huh?" Tung said, smiling his vicious, evil smile. "We could use such a weapon. How he work? And you better not talk with a forked tongue, dung heap of history."
"I can't tell you how it works? I can only show you how it works."
"Okay. Show me, and be quick about it."
"You'll have to take off your clothes."
"Take off clothes? That's so crazy to be true I can't even believe it a bit."
"Look, Tung, just look at my face. Don't I look like an honest man?"
"No."
"Well, all I can say is I'm telling you the truth. There's no way of getting around it; you've gotta take off all your clothes before I can show you how this revolutionary weapon works, and that's all there is to it."
"Must be a pretty crazy weapon."
"It's unusual," I admitted. "But even so it's the greatest weapon ever invented. Now take your clothes off and lemme show you how it works."
"You gimme word of honor you no gonna trick Tung huh, stinking cesspool?"
"Yes."
"Crossing heart?"
"Crossing heart."
"Hoping to die?"
"Hoping to die."
"And you gimme promise you no gonna laugh on Tung when he naked?"
"Why would I laugh on you?" I asked. "I don't think there's anything particularly funny about a nude man's body."
"I having just a little focky-focky," Tung explained. "But still I very much man; boom-boom lotsa girls, having lotsa fun, practically a full-time lover."
"I don't doubt it for a second. Tung, I have no intention of laughing at you; after all, it's quality that counts, not quantity. Now take off your clothes, huh?"
He backed away from the three of us on the couch then set his rifle on the floor at his feet before quickly stripping. Fearfully covering his private parts with his hands before any of us could see them, he asked, "You sure you no gonna laugh on me, you lousy American bastard?"
"I'm positive," I told him.
"Okay. Tung gonna trust you." He moved his hands to his hips.
Joined by Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu, I broke out laughing despite himself; never in my life had I seen such a pathetically puny cock-not even on a baby. I laughed so long and hard tears came to my eyes.
Tung grabbed up his rifle and aimed squarely between my eyes. "You say you no gonna laugh on me!" he screamed. "What'sa big idea, huh?"
I suppressed my own laughter then slapped Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu to shut off their laughter. "I just couldn't help myself, Tung. I'm sorry. But that's such a teeny little thing ... I'm sorry, Tung. It won't happen again. To tell you the truth, I think your little dong is kind of ... kind of cute. You're not mad at me, are you?"
"Shut up now! Stand up and bring weapon over here and show Tung how he work-And if I hear another laugh out of you I gonna fill you fulla lead. Understand?"
I nodded as I stood. Approaching him, I extended the Luster toward him, 'Take it," I said.
Taking it, he said, "How he work? How many time I gotta ask you?"
"Press the little button there on the end of it," I told him, "then hold the thing-it's called a Luster, by the way-against the side of your head."
Carefully watching me and keeping his rifle trained on me, he followed my directions.
"Can you hear the faint hum?" I asked He nodded.
"That hum is the power-you could say-of the Luster."
"You still didn't telling me how he work," Tung said, drawing the Luster away from his temple.
"Push the Luster up into your rear end, with the end with the button poking out."
"That's crazy!"
"Do what I say, Tung; you'll have the strength of a hundred men,"
"No lie?"
"No lie. But first press the button again to turn off the power; press it again to turn it back on after you have the Luster rammed in real good "
Pressing the button, Tung said. "You sure you telling the truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"Yes"
"I trust you before; remember what happen?"
"I didn't intentionally violate your trust, Tung; I'd never violate your trust intentionally. Now do as I say, and don't be afraid."
With his free hand he reached around and started working the Luster up into his rectum. "Very cold," he said. "Tickles, too."
"Don't you worry the least little bit about the cold," I said, grinning, "or the tickling. Have you got the Luster in real good-as far in as you can get it ... in keeping with a reasonable level of comfort, of course?"
"Yes."
"Then press the button."
He pressed the button on the protruding end of the Luster then said, 'Tung no fee-Oh! Oh! Ohhh! OHHH!" His tiny cock snapped erect and started throbbing wildly. "Oh, Buddha, help meee!" He dropped his rifle.
Before he could even so much as think about stopping me, I bent down and snatched the rifle up from the floor. Quickly standing back up, I trained it on him and exclaimed, "The worm has turned! Now I'm in charge of the show, you Pinko Commie, and I mean to stay in charge!"
Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu jumped up off the couch behind me and rushed toward me. They threw their arms around me and congratulated me excitedly.
I had only one question to ask Tung. Miss Funnymoney hadn't been able to tell me why Two Fingers had had me rushed back from the CIA complex in the Philippines; I figured Tung might be able to shed a little light in that area. "Why was I called back so suddenly from the Philippines?" I demanded to know as I gestured menacingly-if a little melodramatically-with the rifle. 'Talk, you goddamn pederast!"
Tung didn't talk; he moaned and moaned and moaned. He was beating his meat so rapidly his hands were mere blurs. If he kept at it much longer, I was sure, he'd rip his cock out by the roots, I stepped closer to him and reached around and down to yank the Luster out of him. Shoving it into my shirt pocket, I said, "Now talk!"
Between gasps Tung screamed determinedly, "Never!"
"I'm not gonna take that for an answer. I mean business, Tung."
"How come you lie on me? You gimme word of honor no trick, and now look. You make me lose faith in humanity."
"I had my fingers crossed when I gave you my word of honor," I said evenly. "Now shut up and talk!"
"I never talk!"
I kicked him in the groin, and ne tumbled over onto his back. "Still not gonna talk?" I asked.
"Never, dog!"
Again I kicked him in the groin. But I saw that kind of torture would get me nowhere. I dropped onto my knees between his legs and grabbed him by his cock and nuts. I squeezed. "Talk, you pin-dicked Commie!"
He screamed ... but he didn't talk.
I told Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu to move around and sit down on his arms and hold his hands tightly. Pushing his legs far apart, I pulled the Luster out of my pocket and quickly rammed it up into his rectum, I pressed the Luster's button and waited.
"Oh, no!" Tung groaned, raising his head to watch his cock stiffen. "Lemme at him! Lemme at him!"
"Hold tight to his hands, girls," I said, "Oh, my focky-focky going crazy!" Tung squealed. "Let hands go! Please! Please!"
"They're not gonna let you go, Tung; you might as well face that fact, 'cause there's no getting around it. Now are you gonna talk or aren't you?"
"Ayiii! Oohoooohooo! Buddha! BUDDHA! Oh, my focky-focky, my poor focky-focky, looka him!"
"Look, you vicious Pinko Commie Red bastard, my patience is wearing thin! Talk!"
"No talk! Tung no talk! Tung never talk! Never, never, ne-Ooh, no, no, no! Let hands go! Please! Let hands go! My focky-focky gonna explosion!"
"You're not showing the right attitude, Tung baby; that's all there is to it. Don't make me so mad I'll do something I might regret. Now talk! Talk! Talk, Tung, and I promise you your hands'll be released."
"OOH!"
I dodged just in time; the substance of his climax shot past my left ear.
He gasped and sighed. The look on his face revealed that he believed the worst had passed.
But his dick regained erection almost immediately! "Tung, there's no escape," I said. "Summers and winters may come and go, but you will forever be here, the horniness you feel now never leaving ... unless you talk!" I hoped he appreciated my poetic bent.
"Unh! Unh! Unh!"
Glancing at his hard-on, I noticed that its head was swollen to the size of a cherry pit-bigger, I was sure, than it had ever before been, "You want Be Tu make him talk?" Be Tu asked me. "Can make him talk so fast you won't even believe it "
"And just how're you gonna do that?" I asked doubtfully, glancing at her lust-contorted face.
"Very easy to do, boy. Very easy. Only Miss Funnymoney gotta hold both his hands."
"What's your plan?"
"You know how I'm such a sexy little thing, okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay. So I'm gonna ride on him only for a little bit of time, make him fall crazy in love with me, then I'm gonna get off; he gonna want me back on so bad he tell you everything you wanna know. Okay?"
"Well, it's worth a try," I agreed.
A few moments later Be Tu was naked from the waist down and straddling Tung. When she took hold of his bone to guide its head to the mouth of her vagina, the throbbing little shaft let fly another load of semen. The shrinking shaft snapped hard again as Be Tu's vagina came down around it.
"Enemy of your own people!" Tung screamed, "Slut for the slave-master class! Buddha will get you for this!"
Ignoring his words, Be Tu started humping, making him grunt and groan and shiver ecstatically..
"Talk!" I commanded again.
"No!"
"Goddamn stubborn bastard, can't you see that you can't get away with keeping silent?"
Be Tu abruptly jerked her hips up high, causing Tung's cock to slide out of her vagina
"Let him back in!" Tung cried impotently. "Please, sweet, lovely princess of love, let him back in!"
"You gonna talk how G.I. want you?" Be Tu asked, lightly drawing her fingertips along the moist sides of Tung's twitching shaft.
"Never do! Let him back in, finest woman of all the earth, goddess of goodness and joy!"
"No can do. Maybe you talk how G.I. want you, maybe I let him back in; no talk, no dice Unnerstand?"
"I worship you, tender maiden! You gotta let him back in, or he gonna die for lonely!"
"Talk, Tung," I said gently, "and she'll put it back in. All I want from you is a little information,"
"No!"
"Give him another taste of it, Be Tu," I said. "We'll break him yet."
Be Tu returned Tung's cock to the heavenly prison of her vagina and again humped expertly, going fast then slow, then fast then slow, making Tung groan more and more desperately.
"Now let it back out again," I said.
"Oh, no!" Tung protested.
"Yes," I told him. "Give up, Tung."
"Oh, my precious, beloved darling," Tung said to Be Tu, "put him back in, you trecherous whore!"
"So sorry, boy," Be Tu said tauntingly, "Buddha, forgive me, forgive me," Tung intoned. Then to me: "What you wanna know?"
"Why'd you have Miss Funnymoney kill Two Fingers . besides as a matter of general principle?"
"I have kill him 'cause ... 'cause-Pull thing out of ass! I going crazy!"
I pulled the Luster out of his rectum then said, "Finish what you started to say."
"I only follow orders-just one small cog in big machine; orders say have slut with white hair stabbing to death man with two finger."
"Now just a goddamn-" Miss Funnymoney began to protest, apparently resenting being called a slut earlier.
"Tung," I interrupted her, "you're gonna have to do a lot better than that. Why were you ordered to have Miss Funnymoney stab Two Fingers?"
"'Cause he ... he ... he-"
"Just what the hell's so funny?"
"He find out ... find out something."
"What?" I prompted irritably. "Stop stalling, damn it, and start answering me properly!"
"Okay. Okay. Don't get up your dander."
"You're the one's taking orders, Tung; not me. Now spill the beans."
"We got lotsa whores work for us. They get lotsa information from drunk G.I.s-what kind of defense, when they gonna attack, all kind of information-and the information goes to head man of ring. You dig?"
"Yes. Go on."
"Man with two finger ... he find ... he find out head of ring is one of you."
"One of me?'.
"CIA man like you."
"Impossible!" Miss Funnymoney exclaimed. "All of our men are absolutely loyal!"
"What's this CIA man's name?" I asked.
"Tung doesn't know; man with two finger doesn't know. So man with two finger want you find out, 'cause for sure you not who he wanna find out. Okay?"
"Where can I find the traitor?"
"How come should I know? You maybe think I know everything, huh? Pretty smart, okay, but don't know everything."
"You must know something more. How do I go about finding out where I can find the traitor?"
"I tell you ... only you gotta promise something."
"What? Anything."
"You gotta promise you no gonna kill Tung after he tell you what you wanna know."
"You have my word of honor."
"Pretty punky to have; I hope you honest on me this time."
"I swear it, Tung."
"Okay. CIA man working for us got men working for him. You dig?"
"Go on."
"I know where is one."
"Where?"
"In Lai Khe. Name Kim Dao,"
"And you think we can find out where the traitorous CIA man is through this Kim Dao?"
"That's very right."
"I hope so."
Before Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and I left the house, I gave my Raserizer its first real test. You should've heard the string of curses Tung flung at me before the creeping rot got to his vocal cords.
CHAPTER TEN
Lai Kne is about thirty-five kilometers or twenty-two miles, northwest of Tan Son Nhut Airport. Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and I caught a vintage Caribou shortly after taxiing to Tan Son Nhut; we touched down on the packed-dirt runway adjacent to Highway One about fifteen minutes after taking off.
Stepping down from the Caribou's gaping asshole, we hurried across Highway One and south half a block to the dirt road that leads west into Lai Khe.
Lai Khe. once a french rubber plantation, is a small town entirely surrounded by troops of the First Infantry Division-the "Big Red One." The MP at the sole entrance to the town proper was enjoying a snooze. Being kindly folks, we didn't bother waking him to identify ourselves; we simply walked on into town, "What's our plan?" Miss Funnymoney asked me, "Our plan is to locate the Kim Dao creep Tung-rest his soul-told us about."
"Yeah, but how're we gonna do that?"
"Be Tu's gonna ask the first native we come across where Kim Dao lives "
"Genghis, you're brilliant! How'd you ever think of a perfect plan like that so quickly?"
"Well, all I can say is that some have it and some don't," I said modestly.
We came to a roadside stand. The betel nut-chewing old woman behind the counter said in a confidential tone of voice, "Got very nice dirty pictures-make you so horny you gonna be crazy for some fun." She winked.
"How much?" Be Tu asked.
"Four hundred p for twenty-five. Very good deal; other mamasan charge five hundred p "
"Four hundred p too much; you gotta come way down, mamasan, or no soap."
"Whadaya think you're doing?" I asked Be Tu. "We're not here to buy dirty pictures; we're here to hunt up Kim Dao. Why in heaven's name do you want a bunch of dirty pictures, anyway?"
"Like to get hot, boy."
"You don't need any dirty pictures to do that, and you know it."
"That's vely right, but dirty pictures make me very, very hot, though. Don't you want your sweet little wonderful Be Tu to be very, very hot?"
"Not just now, I don't. Now kindly ask this woman where we can locate Kim Dao."
"Kim Dao o dau, ba?" Be Tu asked the woman.
"Khong biet."
"She say she no know," Be Tu told me. "She mean she want money to tell where is."
"Tell her I'll give her five hundred ps and not a p more."
"Noi Kim Dao o dau, ban anh cua toi cho ba mm tram dong. Ba noi, khong?"
The woman nodded then said, "cho mm tram dong."
"She say okay," Be Tu told me, "only she want five hundred p first."
I gave the woman five hundred ps, and she pointed to a house across and down the road "Kim Dao Live there," she told me. "Why you want him?"
"None of your business," I said curtly. 'Thanks for the information."
I and my fellow travelers quickly made our way across the road and hurried toward the house the woman had indicated.
"You better have a weapon ready," Miss Funnymoney warned me. "Some of these Viet Cong are pretty sneaky."
"You don't have to tell me that," I said. Tapping the bulge in my side pocket, I added, "Don't worry about a thing; got my trusty Boomer in my pocket."
Half a minute later I was opening the front door then rushing in, Boomer drawn, with Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu following closely behind me.
"What'sa big idea?" squealed a hippy native woman, quickly hiding the intriguing front of her water-dripping body behind a towel.
"Where's Kim Dao?" I demanded to know, threatening the woman with my Boomer.
"I ask you what'sa big idea first," the woman pointed out.
"I'm the one with the Boomer."
"What'sa Boomer?"
"Never you mind. Just drop that towel before I shoot."
"Why I gotta drop towel?"
"Because you don't wanna die, and I'll kill you if you don't drop it. Is that clear?"
She dropped the towel.
"That's better," I said, my eyes feasting on her pubic delicacy and her sizable-for a Vietnamese woman-tits.
"Genghis," Miss Funnymoney said, piqued, "how come you had her drop her towel? We're here to find Kim Dao, not to stare at a naked woman."
"There's nothing wrong with combining business with pleasure," I asserted. "Besides, I'll probably have to seduce her into telling us where Kim Dao is."
"Where's Kim Dao?" Miss Funnymoney asked the woman.
"He gonna have to seduce me into telling," the woman replied, grinning slyly.
"You see?" I proclaimed, handing Miss Funnymoney my Boomer. "Cover me while I do what must be done."
"This is ridiculous."
"Everyone to their own opinion," I said generously, as I crossed to the native woman and began massaging her tits. "Myself, I don't see a thing ridiculous about it."
"Harder," the woman said. "I like they be rub very hard."
"Now will you tell me where Kim Dao is?" I asked. "Ye-"
"Not yet," I interrupted in a sharp whisper. "Wait till I give you the cue."
"What's the cue?"
"When I come in your sweet pussy, of course."
"What?" Miss Funnymoney said. "Would you kindly speak a little louder?"
"I wasn't talking to you."
"You're not gonna screw her, are you, Genghis?"
"Not unless it's absolutely necessary, but I'm afraid it's gonna-"
"Wouldn't it be a lot easier for us to just threaten to kill her?"
"Why should we do that? I think threatening to dispatch her would be cruel."
"You didn't mind threatening to dispatch Tung," Miss Funnymoney coldly reminded me. "In fact, you didn't mind actually dispatching him."
"That was a different situation entirely."
"Oh? Why do you say that? As if I didn't know."
"Do I detect a note of jealousy in your voice, my precious? It's not as if I'll get any joy out of screwing her."
"Oh, sure."
"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to tell me you think I will get some joy out of screwing her?"
"Something like that"
"Of all the unmitigated-I must say I'm surprised at you, my precious, and a little disappointed, too. Here I stand, ready to sacrifice some of my priceless essence in the cause of freedom, and you accuse me of a base motive."
"Genghis, you know something? You should be a lawyer."
"Are you implying that I'm insincere? Of all the unmitigated-Here I stand, ready to sac-"
"You already said that."
"No talk; screw," the native woman put in.
I dropped one of my hands to the juncture of her thighs and started vigorously rubbing the lips of her cunt.
She moaned.
"Disgusting," Miss Funnymoney said.
I paid no attention to her.
I slipped my fingers into the native woman's slit and stroked her nymphae.
Her moans grew louder.
I located her clitoris and started pinching the tender, slippery hard-on.
"She getting very hot," Be Tu said excitedly, her face flushed.
Glancing defiantly at Miss Funnymoney, I unzipped my fly and pulled my dick out into the open.
"Disgusting," Miss Funnymoney said.
"Do you have to keep saying that?'
"It is disgusting."
"My dick?"
"What you plan on doing."
"Screwing?"
"Genghis, you know damned well that's not what I mean."
"If you mean it's disgusting that I should be screwing this woman," I said, bending my knees then thrusting up hard, "I don't agree."
Nor did the woman agree. She grunted ecstatically as my cock rode up into her snug channel of bliss.
"You don't love me," Miss Funnymoney said, pouting. "My precious, I love you with all my heart and all my soul."
"If you loved-"
"I hear man coming outside, G.I.," Be Tu interrupted.
I uncunted and said sharply, "Aim the Boomer at the doorway, Miss-"
"You don't have to tell me," Miss Funnymoney said condescendingly; "I've been in this business longer than you have."
"He home early," the native woman said. "He gonna kill me if he know you have screwing me; he gonna kill you, too"
"He won't be killing anyone if he's who I think he is," I said "It is Kim Dao, isn't it?"
"That's so true. He husband me. He got a very bad temper."
"I couldn't care less about his temper."
Abruptly the door was pushed open and a gray-bearded, very short man hardly more than a midget-stepped into the house. His eyes widened as he took in the presence of Miss Funnymoney, Be Tu, and me. Seeing the weapon pointed at him, he shot his hands up into the air.
"Kim Dao?" I said, wanting confirmation of what the native woman had told me.
"Glad to meet you," the man said, "You got the same name like I got."
"My name's not Kim Dao, you lousy little shrimp of a Commie," I said. "I was asking you if your name's Kim Dao,"
"I look maybe like Clark Gable?"
"Don't gimme any of that inscrutable stuff, unless you wanna get killed fast."
"You some kina crazy maniac?"
"I'm warning you, shorty; keep it up and I'll have my assistant blast you off the face of the earth."
"You what?" Miss Funnymoney said, glancing angrily at me.
"My fellow lover of freedom."
"Don't blast me," Kim Dao pleaded, suddenly no longer cocky-having decided, apparently, that further cockiness would be the death of him. "I willing to talk."
"Smart man," I said. "Just tell me who the ringleader is and where I can get hold of him. The rest of what I wanna know I'll learn from the horse's mouth."
"Got name Pierre Schwanz; he in Philippines."
"You're kidding!" I exclaimed.
"You're kidding!" Miss Funnymoney exclaimed "Anh dm dm!" Be Tu exclaimed.
After a little more interrogation of the pinko scum on my part, we decided that-contrary to our exclamations-he was quite sincere Nevertheless, as a matter of principle, we dispatched both him and his wife.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
At Tan Son Nhut airport Miss Funnymoney and Be Tu wished me luck. They were a little too demonstrative; I had a hard-on as I climbed into the jet.
Several hours later, climbing down to the runway at the Philippine CIA complex, I still had a hard-on.
With my Boomer in one hand and the rest of my official, top-of-the-line CIA screw-and-dispatch kit in the briefcase in my other hand, I crossed the runway in the gathering darkness and headed toward the gate beyond which was the building in which I'd received my training.
Abruptly the beam of a flashlight hit me.
"Halt!" shouted the guard at the gate.
I cursed. Only now did it occur to me that I should've had Miss Funnymoney call Jan from Tan Son Nhut and tell her to tell the guard I'd be arriving and to let me through the gate.
The flashlight's beam came to rest on the bulging crotch of my pants.
"Oh, goodness, you awful, naughty savage!" the guard exclaimed. "Your dicky-poo is just poking out like craaazy!"
Even though he was a queer-live and let live is my motto-I hated to dispatch him; but I didn't want to waste time trying to argue my way through the gate. I loaded his gut with sound "bullets," and he collapsed to the ground and turned into a bonfire.
Cold evening that it was, I would've taken a few moments to warm myself beside him, but bringing Herr Schwanz to justice meant more to me than a selfish concern for my comfort.
I hurried past the blazing guard and through the gate.
"Genghis!" Jan said, seeing me enter the reception room. "What brings you back-You've got a hard-on!"
"Never mind that," I said. "Is Herr Schwanz in?"
"Why do you ask?"
"He's a traitor, Jan."
"He's not!"
"Are you calling me a liar?"
"No. I'm just so shocked. Why do you say he's a traitor?
What makes you think-"
"Two Fingers found out about him; that's why he had me leave here so suddenly. How Two Fingers found out I don't know, because I wasn't able to ask him."
"You don't mean-"
"I do. Miss Funnymoney did the deed."
"She's a traitor, too?"
"No. She was hypnotized and didn't know what she was doing when she killed him. It's too complicated for me to tell you everything right now, Jan, but I have found out Herr Schwanz is a traitor. Now tell me if he's here."
"You're not gonna let that hard-on go to waste, are you?"
"Jan-"
"I mean, with your terrific sex drive and all, I'd think you'd wanna put it to good use." She stood and came around the desk and unzipped my fly before I had a chance to stop her.
"Jan, this is important! Is Herr Schwanz in?"
"You talk too much," she said, tugging my cock out of my pants. "First things first, Genghis, lover, honey."
"You've changed, Jan. What's come over you?"
"When we screwed all night, Genghis ... that's what changed me. I used to be something of a prude, but our screw-a-thon made me see the light. Now screw me, Genghis, before I go out of my mind with mad, passionate desire. Make me raw with your huge, wonderful tool." To lend emphasis to her words, she started pumping my cock as rapidly as she could.
"Jan," I implored throatily, "please cut out this nonsense and tell me if Herr Schwanz is in."
"He's not in," she said, then climbed up my legs and yanked the hem of her sarong up out of the way. "He's never in after around five-thirty or six."
"Where is he?"
"Well, there's only one town near here, so that's probably where he is." She guided my cock up into her damp channel, sighing ecstatically as the connection was made. "No doubt he's getting himself some ass," she added, winking. She started to hump and moan.
"Jan, I'm not gonna let you do this!" I said sharply. "I must track down Herr Schwanz and bring him to justice! Now stop, you hot-bottomed thing!"
"Herr Schwanz can wait," Jan said, humping frenziedly. "Get the lead out, Genghis. Where's your spirit? Are you gonna make me do all the work?"
"This is insane!"
"And fun!"
"Crazeee!"
I wrapped my arms around her, deciding that it was useless for me to try to fight destiny. I started screwing the soft, gripping pocket of her loins with rapid, deep-reaching strokes that made her grunt and groan.
"Now you're doing your stuff!" she exclaimed hotly, matching my hard thrusts with jerky counterthrusts of her own.
"We really shouldn't be doing this," I reaffirmed in a hoarse whisper.
"I know, but what the hell. Now shut up, Genghis, and ram me, ram me, ram me!"
We came together a few moments later and collapsed to the floor in an undignified heap.
"Now tell me where this town you mentioned is," I said, after regaining my breath.
Jan gasped.
"Stop gasping," I said.
She gasped again.
"This is no time for gasping."
"I'll gasp if I want to," she said, gasping again.
"Look, can you come along with me? That way you won't have to explain to me how to get there."
"I'll come with you on one condition. Gasp."
"What?"
"Gasp."
"Seems like a pretty weird condition, but here goes: gasp"
"That's not the condition; I was just gasping."
"What is the condition?"
"'You gotta promise to spend the night with me after we round up Herr Schwanz, Ever since our last wonderful night together, Genghis, darling, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. You're in my system-you and your beautiful tool-and I want more, more, more!"
"Calm down," I said, slapping her hard across the face. "Thank you, darling; I needed-"
"I'll spend the night with you again," I said solemnly. "Anything for freedom's sake."
"You don't have to make it sound like a fate worse than death, darling. As I recall, you rather enjoyed yourself the last time."
"Mm," I mmed. "Who's gonna take your place here while we're away on the dangerous assignment that awaits us?"
"No one. I was just about to close up shop when you ..howed up."
"Well, let's go then." I grabbed her hand. "Is this town the traitor Schwanz is visiting within walking distance?"
"Uh-huh. But we can't go yet."
"Why not?"
"You're dick's still hanging out, darling. I don't mind, understand, but the townspeople might not approve."
"Mm," I mmed again, then returned my cock to the confines of my pants and zipped back up.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The bleeding entrails of day ... read, sunset ... had long since faded by the time Jan and I emerged from the side of the small forest opposite the CIA complex.
"Would you please get down now?" Jan asked, her voice tinged with irritation.
I removed my hands from the exciting warmth of her tits and drew my arms back out from under hers. Dropping off her back to the ground, I said, "Can I help it if I have a morbid fear of snakes and other crawly creatures?"
"It's not carrying you through the forest that bothered me, darling."
"Then what is it?"
"About ten minutes ago your dick went and got hard, and from then until now the thing's been poking me painfully."
"I just couldn't keep it down," I said apologetically. "Your back rubbing against it made it get hard. And holding your sweet titties-"
"Made my clitoris get hard. Genghis, darling, why don't we?"
"Not till after we've captured Herr Schwanz," I said determinedly.
"Oh, you're just a stick in the mud."
"I'm not; I'm a courageous, patriotic secret agent," I said proudly. "Now lead on."
"All right," she said, starting along the path through the tall grass toward the town, "but keep your voice down, darling, if you don't wanna alert Herr Schwanz to our approach."
Shortly we were at the edge of the town.
Above us the full moon shone brightly, its cold, silver rays giving Jan's exposed, dimpled butt cheek a ghostly cast. Ghostly cast or not, though, I dropped to my knees and kissed it worshipfully.
"What're you doooing?" Jan asked in a whisper.
I pulled my Raserizer out of her deep valley, where I'd earlier holstered it. Reluctantly I stood back up, an inner sense telling me that now wasn't the time "Shh," Jan whispered sharply.
"I didn't say a thing," I whispered sharply in return.
The only sounds about us were the mournful calls of tik-tik birds, the plaintive crik-criks of crickets, and the gutteral belches of a few horny bullfrogs.
But enough of atmos "Shh," Jan whispered again.
"Damn it, I didn't say a thing!"
I looked right then left down the dirt road we'd come upon. Small, flimsy houses with small, flimsy thatched roofs lined both sides of the small, flimsy road.
"Shh," Jan whispered yet again.
I stifled my urge to clobber her. "Which house is Herr Schwanz in?" I asked.
"How would I know?"
"Well, I sure don't know."
"That makes two of us."
"So I gathered."
Getting bored, I dropped back down on my knees. Whether or not this was the time "Shh," Jan whispered yet still again.
I bit her exposed butt check.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed, whipping around. "What's the big idea?"
"What's that bulge in your sarong there in the general area of your crotch?" I asked in a whisper.
She raised the hem of her sarong and pulled the Boomer I'd given her out of its honeyed holster. "I asked you why you bit me," she whispered angrily, reaching around now to caress the sore spot.
"I'd been wondering what you did with my Boomer," I whispered.
"Are you gonna answer my question?"
"I just got tired of being shushed for no reason."
"It wasn't you I've been hearing moan?"
"It certainly wasn't. I haven't heard anybody moan. You sure your ears haven't been playing tricks with you?"
"You're the only one's been playing tricks with me," she accused in a whisper, threatening me with my Boomer while she continued to caress the spot where I'd bitten her.
"It's wet," I whispered.
"What?"
"The Boomer's barrel. Why'd you go and keep it there?"
"Neither of my nostrils is big enough.'
"I hope it's pussy-proof. What's this about somebody moaning?"
"I can hear it right now," Jan replied, listening again. "You really can't hear it, darling?"
"Didn't I already tell you I can't? You think I was lying or something? I guess you just must have better hearing than me. Anyway, can you tell where it's coming from?"
"Keep very quiet and I'll see." She stood still and listened intently. "I think it's coming from across the road somewhere," she finally announced. "Should we go check it out?"
"Of course. Is it coming from pretty well straight across the road?"
"I think so."
"Well, if it has something to do with Herr Schwanz and his traitorous activities, there may be guards around, so we better head up the road a way before crossing."
"I wonder what it could be," Jan mused aloud, as we made our way up the road, stepping lightly to avoid alerting any possible guards to our presence.
"I thought you knew what it is. I thought you said it's somebody moaning."
"I didn't exactly say it's a person, but it sure doesn't sound like any animal I've ever heard. Anyway, that's not what I meant."
"Just what did you mean?"
"I mean, what's causing it? Why is somebody moaning?"
"I thing I have a pretty good idea why."
"Why?"
"Never mind for now," I said, grabbing her hand and starting across the road. "Let's just find out for sure what's the cause of it ... or who's the cause of it, if my idea is right." I led her back between a couple of the shacks across the road.
"Where're we going?" she asked. "The moaning's coming from back down the road."
"I know, but we're gonna get behind the houses then walk down to find the right one. Safer that way than coming upon the right one from the front."
"I'm scared," Jan said, after we'd turned behind the row of houses.
"Nothing to be afraid of, sweetness." I slipped my arm around her waist. "You've got me with you."
"That's why I'm scared," she said, "Very funny."
"You gonna be a stick in the mud again?"
"Baby, this is hardly the time for comedy. Don't you know we could get killed?"
"You gotta say things like that?"
"It happens to be true. Just keep that Boomer ready; you might have to use it."
We walked on in silence, our ears sharply attuned for suspicious sounds.
"We're almost there," Jan said at last.
"I hear it. Walk very lightly, baby."
"This is it, Genghis; it's coming from inside that house."
"No guards here in back, at least," I noted, relieved. "Look, you go around to the front of the house from this side, and I'll-go around from the other side. And don't make the slightest sound. Don't even breathe any more than you have to."
I crossed the back yard and very slowly made my way along the side of the house.
Jan met me a few moments later before the house's front door. "Darling," she said in a barely audible whisper, "we can't go on meeting like this."
"Shh," I whispered back. "Looks like Herr Schwanz never dreamed anybody'd catch on to his activities. I'm gonna try the door, so be ready."
I turned the knob slowly, patiently, not wanting it to make a sound. After what seemed like several minutes, the door's holding projection cleared its small hollow.
Moonlight spilled into the front room as I pushed the door open. I saw a bed. On the bed was a naked, pale-skinned man. Beneath him was a brown-skinned boy.
The boy was moaning.
"Hey! What's going " the man started to say as he rapidly dismounted.
I saw his face; the man was Herr Schwanz, all light. "Shut your fat mouth, traitor!" I shouted at him. More calmly I added, "And don't make any false moves."
"Or any true moves, either," Jan put in. "In fact, don't move at all."
"Just what the devil is the meaning of this?" Herr Schwanz asked, his voice projecting phony indignation. "Jan, is this some kind of joke?"
"It's no joke, Trout," Jan answered menacingly.
"You mean Kraut, baby," I corrected her, wondering if she were part Vietnamese.
"I demand an explanation for this outrage," Herr Schwanz said. "If you two think I'm gonna put up with-"
"This place got a light?" I asked.
"There's a candle in a holder on the shelf there by the door. There's a book of matches next to it."
I quickly lighted the candle then moved closer to the bed, trailed by Jan. "Get up," I told Herr Schwanz. "And don't try any funny stuff, 'cause I'd as soon kill you as look at you."
"Jan, will you kindly-"
"Cut out the crap," I said. "You and your indoctrination. Jesus. Did you force this kid?"
"I--"
I slapped him hard across the face, knocking him to the floor. I couldn't keep down my anger. I kicked him in the face. I felt like tearing him limb from limb.
Jan saw him shoot his hand under the bed before I did. When his hand reappeared holding a gun, she blasted him in the head with sound "bullets".
He screamed. His head burst into flames.
I grabbed a blanket off the bed then told Jan, "Keep the kid covered." I lifted Herr Schwanz' feet and dragged him out into the front yard. I let his head burn awhile longer before dropping the blanket over it.
"What're we gonna do with the kid?" Jan asked, when I came back into the house.
"Send him on his way."
"But he might know something. Genghis, I don't think Herr Schwanz used any force on him."
"Nor do I. Get up, kid, and get out of here. You understand?"
"You just gonna let him go?" Jan asked, bewildered.
I followed the kid to the door. As soon as he got outside, he started running. But he couldn't outrun a raser beam.
For a few thoughtful moments I stood silently watching him rot.
"Now we won't be able to get any information on Herr Schwanz' activities," Jan said.
I turned and walked over to her. I dropped my Raserizer on the bed then placed my hands lightly on her cheeks. I kissed her forehead, her eyes, her nose. And her lips.
She tossed the Boomer to the bed then wrapped her arms around me and smashed her tits against my chest.
Reluctantly I pulled my lips away from hers. "Baby, I think we'll find all kinds of information on Herr Schwanz' activities."
"Where?"
"He didn't have any guards posted outside, so it's obvious he didn't figure anybody'd come here to give him trouble. Right?"
"Right. So?"
"So I'm pretty sure we'll find plenty of information on his activities right in plain sight here if we just look around a little."
"What sort of information?"
I went for the candle by the door. I returned and grabbed hold of Jan's hand. "Why don't we find out?" I said.
We entered the house's only other room, a primitive kitchen. The only pieces of furniture in the kitchen were a small round table and an old wooden chair that looked about ready to fall apart. On the table were a very sophisticated-looking transceiver, an equally sophisticated-looking cordless tape machine, and a dozen or so notebooks.
"This the sort of stuff you expected to find?" Jan asked. I grabbed up one of the notebooks and started thumbing through it. "More or less," I said. "Look at this; names, addresses, dates ... a regular dossier on what Herr Schwanz has been up to, and all in English."
"Whadaya suppose he used the tape recorder for?"
"I imagine he recorded what he had to send out then sent it out extremely fast to keep from being on the air for more than a second or so at a time. And the same with receiving, recording what came in way too fast for him to understand, then playing it back slow enough so that it made sense."
"Imagine," Jan said thoughtfully.
I nodded but said nothing. I took her hand and led her back into the front room.
"What now?" she asked.
"We gotta put in a report on this."
Jan freed her hand from mine then started stripping. "That can wait till tomorrow," she said.
Beginning to strip myself, I watched the increasing revelation of her body.
At last she lay on her back on the bed, her legs spread wide for all night long.
I joined her on the bed and pushed her hands away from her tits. I sent my mouth down to one of her nipples and lightly sucked the tender bit of flesh "You know something?"
I raised my mouth for only a moment. "What, baby?"
"You'll probably be put in charge of Vietnam. I really think you will, darling. I mean, uncovering a traitor right in the CIA and everything...."
I felt between her legs. I guided the head of my cock to the mouth of her vagina. Raising my mouth again, I said, "Baby, don't talk." I penetrated her snug, silken channel. "Save your talk till morning."
She lifted her legs and brought them together across my back. She moaned....
