"Hey Stretch, let me see that cock of yours grow so long and hard that you live up to your name," Jinny hungrily teased.
With that, Stretch pressed his body against hers, feeling her bare tits and pointed nipples on his chest ... grabbing her ass and pulling her closer so he could feel the moistness of her cunt and she could feel his manhood ... using his big cock to open her pussy lips and rub his aching member up and down her slit ... making Jinny moan and sigh-begging him never to stop.
Stretch knew that no woman could resist him, and once they had a taste of his lust, they were his slave forever.
CHAPTER ONE
I opened the car door, and the girl stood there in the darkness and looked at me.
"I'll fuck," she said. "You take me where I'm going, and I'll screw you good."
"Get in."
She sucked a deep breath, and the lights from the dash flickered across a pale face, with dark lips, a deep V'd yellow sweater, revealing lushly curved swells of smooth breasts.
"Come on, honey," I said.
"What'll I do with my bag?"
"Toss it in the back seat."
She did that, and slid in across the front seat, slamming the door. I still hadn't seen much of her. But the long glance I'd had of that body and that piquant face in the headlights before stopping had been interesting.
I switched on the dome light and took a longer look.
She leaned back against the door and watched me with wide, dark blue eyes. Her hair was brownish blonde, and very straight, over her shoulders. But it looked clean and cared for. Her tits poked at the thin sweater and I knew she wore no bra, the nipples perking in twin juts. I lowered my gaze. She had a slightly convex belly, rounded beautifully, under a thin wisp of greenish skirt that had hiked up across her thighs, binding the flesh. The skirt was above the taut rims of gartered sheer nylons of a grayish tinge, and the sight of that pliant white flesh popped my cock out of its cramped position. It began to rise in short jerks.
"Well?" she said softly. She had a musical voice, rusty around the edges. She licked her lips. "Want to get with it right now?"
I didn't say anything. I turned the light off, shoved the car into drive, and cut on down the highway.
She began to hum.
I tried-not to pay any attention to her. It was difficult, what with the way my prick was behaving. I knew it was because I'd been thinking about Jinny, Tim's wife.
Tim Fuchs had written me in Jacksonville, with this cryptic letter, telling me to come and see him as soon as I could. There was something he hadn't said, that I'd caught between the lines. He gave no reason for calling on me. Actually, he knew he didn't have to have a reason. We'd been through plenty together in Viet Nam, and we'd always had a bargain, that if either of us needed the other, all we had to do was yell. I hadn't seen him in months, even though he only lived downstate, in Gulfport, a few hundred miles from my home.
I wondered if Jinny had finally gotten under his skin. She was too young for him. She emanated sexuality like an obscene billboard. Every time I saw her my prong did handsprings, and I'd been doing a lot of considering on the drive. How it would be to get between those lush thighs, and sink it into her pussy. I'd had a quick look at her hairy twat once, and I'd never been able to get it out of my head. I'd come upon Jinny as she was slipping up a pair of red shorts, and there it was. Glistening and curly and thickly covered, with the flesh of her thighs curving to it. And she'd looked at me, and stood there with her pants half up, and winked and stuck her tongue out. I remembered how my cock had suddenly ached erect. I knew I could fuck her. But it hadn't happened right then. I'd heard Tim coming from the other room. Jinny screwed her hips into the tight shorts, giving her crotch a quick rub for my benefit, and walked away, calm-eyed.
Between the lines......" it's just I want to see you, is all-get together over a crowd of drinks, you know? Well, matter-of-fact, Stretch, something's up. But I won't go into that till I see you."
It was like that. He'd beat all around the bush in that letter, but he hadn't been able to cover the fact that he was worried. It wasn't like Tim. He usually came straight out with what troubled him. Not this time. But what the hell could it be? He had a good home, a hot and horny wife, a job at his brother's glider factory. I couldn't figure it.
"My name's Lori," the girl said.
"Hi."
"What's yours?"
"Stretch."
"Funny name. What you thinking about? You thinking about what I told you?"
She had a warm southern voice, frilled with Alabama around slow, soft words.
She said, "I meant it, Stretch. I'm a very plain girl. I speak my piece. I been standing out there in the night, thinking about how it would be in a nice comfortable car, with some guy. Hell, it could've been any guy, Stretch. Only ... only I'm clean. I want you to know that." She cleared her throat. "Does your cock stretch, Stretch?"
"Keep it up."
"I'm going to." I felt her snuggle closer to me. Her hip rubbed against mine, and I felt her hand on my thigh. Then it drifted up between my legs, and cuddled in my fly. The fingers began probing. "Frankly," she whispered against my ear. "I'm hot as hell, the way I was thinking, and I like my fucking, Stretch. Do anything to you? Or ... need I ask?"
She was fingering the hard length of my dong, now. God damn it, I could feel the sexy swell of heat working up through me. I wanted to get to Tim's place in Gulfport, but I wanted to screw this little bitch, too. Everything about her was sexual and blatant.
I glanced down at her legs. She had her skirt up to her crotch, now. And the sight of those round white thighs above the tight rims of her stockings didn't help. She had her thighs open, and her right hand kept caressing the flesh of her right leg.
"You've got a hard-on," she whispered. "It feels like a big one, too. Jesus, Stretch. My pussy's tingling." She gave a little moan, and the next second she was unzipping my fly. I felt her cool fingers worm inside, and feel for the opening of my shorts. Then her fingers curled around my dong, and began caressing it, squeezing it. It throbbed in her little hand, and I knew I had to get it in her. I couldn't stand it.
"Okay," I said.
"Goody."
Her hand massaged my cock, and I began watching for a turn-off on the highway. It wasn't a moment, and I spotted one, leading directly into a thick copse of pine, darkly shadowed. I wheeled the Merc in there, took it off the dirt road I was on, and braked under a tall pine. The bole was close to my door.
"You won't regret it, honey," she said. "I'm nice ass, any way you like it. And I'm ripe ready. I ain't been fucked for over a week, so you can imagine. Huh?"
"Yeah."
"Let's take our time."
"Get in back."
She didn't say anything, just turned and stuck her ass out as she began climbing over the seat. That ass was lovely. I reached over and ran my hand up between the backs of her thighs, and patted the hot flesh under skimpy, tight panties. She thrust her ass back and forth, then swung her leg over, and slipped into the back seat.
I followed her.
She was lying there on her back, across the seat, leering up at me. The moonlight was heavy through the windows.
"I like to see better," she said. "Turn on a light."
I switched on the dome light, and was happy I had. Christ, what a picture. My prick ached and throbbed and bulled inside my pants, peeking through the open fly. I sprawled next to her, holding her close, and kissed her. Her tongue reamed itself into my mouth, poking and jabbing, and her hand went to my fly again. Her fingers clutched at my cock, and drew it out of my pants. I lay on my side, and she looked down at it and gasped.
"Jesus Christ, what a whang, honey!"
I moved my hips at her hand, curled around my dong, fucking her palm. The long hard expanse of my cock tingled.
She lay back and grabbed the bottom of her sweater, dragging it up over her swollen tits. The tits bobbed out, creamy and bare, with nipples hard and erect, like little tongues. I sprawled on her again, and began sucking one of those tits. She moaned a little, urging herself at me, working her hand on my cock.
"Back off a little, Stretch," she said.
I did.
She yanked her skirt up to her waist, and stripped off the panties. They were tight and blue, and she kicked them over by her suitcase. Her eyes were wicked, and very dark, now, slitted a little. She had her tongue stuck out of the comer of her red lips, and she looked like a young, hot whore, which she probably was. I didn't give a damn. All I wanted to do was fuck her. I could already imagine how it would be to feel her twat around my jerking prick.
"You like my pussy?"
It was right then that I remembered Marcie. I don't know what did it. But there it was. There was something about this girl, Lori, that reminded me of Marcie. My wife. But not any more my wife. Once. Once my wife.
Maybe it was Lori's cunt. Or the way she lay back and lifted her knees, spreading her thighs wide apart, so the cunt nestled in thick curls, with the juicy red lips spread a little, and the slot showing, the hole staring at me. Marcie's had been something like that. Not like an ordinary cunt. More something you'd picture in your mind. The slit and the curly shining cunt hair, and then the hole, not puckered or anything, but very slippery looking. Inviting as hell. And the buns of her ass underneath, and the swell of the thighs, and the shady stockings and garters. The gentle slope of white belly. Well, Marcie was gone, now. She had fucked every man in the county, including the sheriff and his deputies. And I had nearly killed a man because of her-because I'd found the guy with his rod in that tight pussy of hers. But now she was gone.
"Christ," I said, staring down at Lori. She must've been about fifteen or sixteen. Very young. "Christ," I said again.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing ... nothing at all."
"You look kind of funny."
"I don't feel funny."
"You didn't tell me you liked my pussy."
"I like your pussy, you little bitch."
"Yes." She gave a gasp. "Call me that. Call me a bitch, you bastard. You cocksucker. Call me anything you want. I like it, you bastard. Jesus, it gets me hot as hell. I want my cunt reamed out with that rod of yours. I like to fuck, get it? I like it every damned way. Understand?"
"Bitch!"
I was staring down at Marcie.
"Fuck me, you bastard!"
She began working her left hand on her twat, and at the same time slowly jacking at my prong. I could feel the juices drive down into my balls, and my balls tingled.
"Take your pants down, damn you."
I unfastened my belt, and tore my pants down to my knees, then my shorts.
"Ah, God, Jesus," she said. "Look at that cock. I can't stand it."
She had one leg over on the back of the front seat, now, the other knee bent, and her thighs spread wide open. Her twat was awash with sauce as her fingers flitted over the pink, glistening lips.
For a long moment she was Marcie, lying there spread out like that, with some country buck lurking over her ready to sink his weapon. Me the buck, staring down at my wife as she leered wickedly up at me, urging me to fuck her. I wanted to beat the shit out of her. But there was some thread of sanity in what was left of my brain. I clung to that weakly. But even so it seemed that the girl's face changed, and she actually became Marcie, with her black curls, and her slim body, pale in many moonlights.
"Bitch," I said again.
"But you like whores, don't you."
"Bitch."
"Fuck me, then."
I fell between her thighs, then, and grabbed her head and mashed my mouth down on it. Make it not be Marcie, I said inside my head.
Her tongue was in my mouth again, and she was moaning, working her crotch at me. My cock was drooling slime, and it slid across her belly, poking at her. She had her hand down there again, the tight fingers curled around my cock base, fiddling with my balls. I kissed her mushy red wet lips and tasted her spit, and licked her throat, and sucked her left tit nipple. It perked between my lips and against my tongue.
"I can't stand it, you son of a bitch! Stick that cock in my cunt, for Christ's sake."
I lifted my hips and she held my rod poised at her slit. I'd never seen a face like hers right then. She was so engulfed with sex and heat and hot hope and wickedness that it swarmed in her features. Her eyes were like a snake s. She was breathing in little gasps, and her lips shone wetly.
"C'mon," she whispered. "C'mon, damn you!"
"You bitch!"
I shoved my hips at her, and my cock slid into her cunt. I shoved it straight to the hilt, all with one driving effort, and my balls slapped against the buns of her ass. Jesus. She had a cunt. It was tight and greasy against my cock, and I drew a breath that wouldn't quit.
"Ahhhhhhhh," she groaned. "In ... deep in! Fuck me, you cocksucker! Fuck the shit out of me."
Marcie ... Marcie ... Marcie!....
I slowly eased my cock out to the brim of her juicy slit, and she groaned again. She writhed beneath me. And all at once she wasn't Marcie any more. She was Lori Somebody, whom I'd picked up on the highway. And she was hot and willing.
And I had my cock in her cunt.
Her smooth-bunned ass arched off the seat, trying to get me to plow her deeply again. I just held my prong poised at the entrance to her tunnel of love, then slowly, ever so slowly, slipped it into her again. Her thighs clamped around me, and she lifted her legs into the air. I felt her fingernails cut at my shoulders, and her head was back, lips wide open, as she almost gagged with what was happening to her. Her tits swelled and the nipples grew even larger, now.
I took hold of her beautiful ass with both hands, then slid my right hand deep under, till I could feel my slimy cock, and the wet, spread lips of her succulent pussy. I diddled her clitoris, and she began to moan and groan and pant quicker than before.
"Give it to me," she whispered tightly.
I thrust my rod into her till I felt her womb, and then I thrust even deeper. I had close to eight inches of cock, and it should have been plenty. It would never be enough. I wanted to plow her, and stick it out of her mouth, and grab it, and saw her to death. My balls slapped wetly against her ass crack, and I drove it into her still deeper.
She gagged and arched her back, and cursed obscenely. "Ahhhhhh, you bastard! Fuck me! Split me wide open."
I began to slowly drive it into her twat, then drag it out to the lips, and diddle it on her soaked slit. She was a juicy one, all right. Love sauce dribbled out of her pussy, bathing my banana and tickling my nuts. Her smoothly plump thighs and the slick nylons slid and clamped at my hips, and flashes of Tim Fuchs and why I was here, stroked my mind.
"Ahhhhh, God!" Lori gasped.
I began to drive it into her, then. I plowed her good. I gripped that plump round ass, and yanked her to me. She was down there, braced on her shoulders, leering up at me with those eyes, licking her lips and drooling a little on her chin. I fucked her good, sliding the full length of my cock deep into her, then back out to the lips, then all the way in again, working up a steadied rhythm. She loved it. She ate it up. Her ass began to stroke with me, working against me, worming against me. Her heels clung to my ass, dragging me to her, into her. My cock felt like a steel bar, sluiced with oil.
Every time I got it all the way in, she would groan and thrash her head back and forth, now. She was muttering filth all the time, under her breath, so I could just detect a word now and then. "Shit ... fuck ... cock ... suck me, youbastardfucker! Ride me down. Get it in, you shit-off. Ahhhhhh, Jesus I Don't stop. I'll suck, I'll suck it."
Something about the way she half-whispered half whined that got to me. I wanted to drive it straight through her back. I began to really screw that bitch, then. I was up on my knees, and I held her ass up to me, and banged the hell out of her.
She began to writhe and drive her hips against me, choking and sobbing and cursing, and then she came. I could feel the hot juices flood inside her, washing my cock. I continued to fuck the hell out of her, and it was too much. I couldn't hold off any longer.
"DO IT!" she screamed, still coming. Her eyes clenched tightly, her mouth a round, gasping hole. "FUCK ME!"
It came from the back of my head. It drove down my backbone like a lightning flash, and itched in my nuts, and then shot hosing out through the plowing dripping length of my cock, and I shot spurting wads of steamy gism into her luscious cunt. It streamed from my prick, jerking and driving, shooting orgasmic drenches of come into her. I almost went out of my head, and once again I was fucking Marcie. I battered her twat, grinding it into her, plowing her slot. Her ass and thighs were tense.
Then she relaxed with a deep groan, her legs sprawling. I lay on her, with my cock still in her, still spurting little dribbles. Juice ran out of the slit and down the crack of her ass, around my balls.
"Don't ever take it out," she whispered.
"Got to."
"No. Don't ever. Just leave it in my pussy, and let it soak."
"Got to take it out."
"You sure come a bucket, honey."
"Like it?"
She reached up and clutched at me, and tried to kiss me. But there was some aversion now. And I was remembering how I had to get to Tim's place. I had wasted a lot of time with the girl.
But it hadn't been waste. It had been good.
And maybe I'd needed it. For a long time now, I'd been rubbed raw with thinking about Marcie, and how she had behaved, what she had done to me. It was too much on my mind. I hadn't realized how much I needed a good fuck.
I knew I wanted more. It was always that way with me. My cock wasn't drooping, and I could throw at least two more good ones into her. But I knew I wouldn't do that.
I drew my rod out of her. The tip was still jerking and twitching, and tiny spasms of come purled in the slit.
I found a Kleenex, and wiped my cock. But Lori was quick. She sat up, and brushed my hand away, and went down on me like a flash. She licked my cock clean, mouthing it, and tonguing it. She tongued up every drop.
"There," she said, lifting her head. "My, but you can fuck. I haven't come like that in a year."
I grinned at her, and climbed back in the front seat. I got my shorts up, and my pants, and zipped my fly, buckled my belt. I slipped beneath the wheel.
She came over the seat.
"Where we going now?"
"Better yet," I said, as I backed out into the highway, and started off toward Gulfport again, "where are you going?"
"That all you wanted?"
"That's not the question, Lori."
"You just wanted to fuck me. Right?"
I glanced at her. She was beginning to sniffle. A poor beat out little girl of a bitch. Fucking because she was lonely, and no place to go. I didn't like it. I never liked a girl who bawled all the time, and especially I didn't like them when they bawled because they liked to fuck and thought it was wrong.
"I get off in Tampa," she said.
"Okay."
"You want to be rid of me. Right?"
I didn't say anything. I drove fast, then, and when she spoke I didn't answer. I knew I should have. I should have tried to appease her, comfort her. I didn't.
In Tampa, I let her out of the car. She stood there and looked at me. She held her suitcase against her leg, and there was something almost sweet about her.
But then I saw her eyes. They were hard.
"Next time we meet," she said. "I'll suck your cock. You'll like that, huh?"
"If we meet," I told her.
"Yeah. Well, take your cock and go where you're going, you bastard. Thanks for nothing."
She slammed the door and walked off into the night, her ass twitching, her slim legs scissoring.
I heaved a sigh and headed for the Howard Franldand bridge.
Twenty minutes later, I was in Gulfport.
The girl had made me itchy. I decided to drive straight for Tim's home. I knew it was Jinny in my mind making me do that. I was homier than I'd been in months. It was like old times, out to fuck everything on two legs.
I just wanted to see her, even. See her sassy ass, even covered with a skirt. See her red lipped mouth, and wonder whether she blew cock. See her tits under whatever. See her legs, and her hands, and her waist. Jesus. See Jinny, my best friend's wife.
She would rub against me sometimes....
I came down their street, and I saw the lights on at the front of the house. A long, gleaming car, a black Cad, was parked just past their place, in the street.
I braked the Merc, and lit a cigarette, then got out, and started across the lawn. That's when it happened.
The front door burst open, and a man ran out. He was carrying a valise of some kind. He started running off across the lawn, in the other direction. Then a woman came after him. She was naked except for a pair of black panties. Her tits jounced as she ran, but I couldn't make her out. The porch lights were at their backs, and they ran fast.
They reached the Cad, got in, and immediately took off down the street with no lights. They screeched around the first comer to the right.
I stood there.
The front door was open.
I saw the guy. I didn't know who he was, but he was stumbling and moaning by the open door. He stepped outside, onto the small porch, and he was trying to reach up behind his back, clawing. I couldn't see his face. I moved toward the porch.
A woman screamed from out back someplace. The sound of the scream hooded the night. I ran over to where the man was, just as he fell sprawling off the porch onto the walk. He lay on his face.
His head twisted, and he humped, and then lay still.
I reached him just as the woman screamed, closer now. I looked at the man. It was Tim Fuchs. He had a knife in his back. I grabbed the knife, and yanked it out, and turned to the doorway just as Jinny Fuchs stepped onto the porch. She wore a Japanese kimono.
I stood there with the knife.
I said, "Jinny."
Right then two cruisers cut along the street. A siren gave five wooo-wooo-wooo-wooo-wooos and yelped to silence.
They ran up across the lawn with drawn revolvers.
I just stood there.
One of them grabbed me, and another took the knife away. Handcuffs gleamed, and snapped around my wrists coldly.
"Jinny," I said. "I just got here!"
She sobbed and shook her head, her eyes wide. "Put in a call," one of them said. He was a young one, his face pink beneath his peaked cap. Then he turned to me. "You're coming with us."
"But ... wait ... you've got this wrong!"
"Nothing's wrong," he said. "You've just killed a man, but there's nothing wrong."
"I didn't ... I just got here. I saw them ... they must have...."
"Shut it off till we get downtown."
"Jinny!" I said. "Jinny ... wait!"
She was staring at me.
They dragged me across the lawn as two more police cars drew up to the curb.
"You've got this all wrong," I said.
They shoved me into the back seat of a cruiser, and slammed the door.
CHAPTER TWO
One thing. I had made the last four numbers on the license plate of the Cad, when the man and woman ran down across the lawn. Somehow I knew it wouldn't do any good telling the law that.
They took me into the Police Building, down a hall, and the two cops with me were joined by three other plainclothesmen. We came into a long narrow room, and one of the plainclothesmen, a husky, red-faced fellow, shoved me into a chair.
"Get Mollie," he said.
He had a voice like a file dragged across a steel drum. He motioned to the young, pink-faced cop, and took a key, unlocked the handcuffs. He was breathing hard, and his nose was plugged. He wore a stiff gray cloth suit and he looked hot.
I rubbed my wrists, and a dark-haired girl wearing a red mini strolled into the room, holding a notebook and pencil. She had sexual thighs in tan sheers, a slim waist, and thrusting hips. Her tits pushed belligerently, big nipped, at the jersey dress. The neck was a deep slash, and you could see the swell of creamy flesh. You could also see her belly button, and the skirt of the red dress sucked in at her crotch, revealing the beginnings of cunt bun.
She gave me a long stiff look, and drew a chair up in front of me, and blew at a tendril of hair that curled along her face, and sat down.
"I'm Sergeant Bucker," the red-faced man said. "What's your name."
"Look. This is all cockeyed. I did not kill that man. I just...."
"What's your fucking name?"
The young cop snickered, and winked at the girl, Mollie. She lifted her nose in disdain, watching me. She crossed her legs, and it was a hot scene. You could see the curve of her ass, and a dark shadow underneath where her pussy would be encased in black panties, probably. She laid the notebook on her knee, and regarded me with sloe eyes. She looked at my crotch. I glanced down and saw the hump of my prick. I did not move, and against my will my cock began to stiffen.
"Listen, you son of a bitch," Sergeant Bucker said. "You'd damn well better answer me!"
"Stretch Gargan."
"No. Your real name."
"That's my real name, for Christ's sake."
"None of your fucking nasty, Gargan. Gargan.
Gargan." He frowned. "Where the stink have I heard that before?"
A lean, lanky fellow in a brown suit cleared his throat.
"Why did you kill him?" Bucker said.
"I didn't kill him, I tell you."
"Who was he? You know him?"
"Yes. I knew him."
I was staring at the girl as I spoke. Her pencil whistled across the notepad. She had her lips pursed into a ticklish O. She glanced back at my crotch, and then I saw it. The slow working muscles of her thighs. She was masturbating, for hell's sake. Sitting there taking notes of what went on, and crimping her cunt for all she was worth. A tiny film of perspiration began to form on her upper lip. You could see her leg move, underneath, her ass tighten and relax. She was really giving her pussy a thigh job, with steadied, slow, mind-warping rhythm. My cock swelled and she saw it and licked her lips.
I knew then that she was one of those that got the hots for criminals. She obviously couldn't control herself.
Bucker's fist snatched at my hair, whipped my head up so I faced him.
"What was his name, smart ass?"
"Tim. Tim Fuchs."
"Fuchs?"
"Yes."
A comer of the girl's mouth lifted.
"What a pisser of a name," Bucker said.
"Sergeant?" It was the guy in the brown suit.
Bucker turned slowly, exasperated. "What is it, Fisher?"
Fisher swallowed. "I remember him. Gargan. Yeah. Stretch Gargan. How you forget a name like that?"
"Get the hell on with it, Fisher."
"It was in Jacksonville. He beat the shit out of a poor bastard who was laying his wife. Remember?" He turned and said to a plump man in a blue jacket, with a horsy face. "Remember, Charlie?"
Charlie's face lit up. "Sure. Sure, I remember. Christ, he nearly killed the crimp. Gargan. Sure. Stretch Gargan. Her name was ... name was Marcie Gargan. Turns out she was fucking everybody on the Eastern Seaboard, something like that. Anyway, our boy, here, he caught them screwing in a rowboat. Tried to kill him. Tried to drown 'im, f' Chris-sakes."
"Yeah," Fisher said.
"That true?" Bucker asked me.
"You seem to know everything."
"Six months ago ... a little longer," Fisher said. "What's the dame's name?"
"What dame?" I said.
"Was she Mrs. Fuchs?"
"Yes. Jinny Fuchs."
"You know her well?" He lifted his eyebrows.
"Yes. Tim was my best friend."
I looked at the girl, Mollie. She was staring at my covered, humped cock, and working her ass muscles, and thigh muscles. Her lips were parted, and I could imagine her cunt was dripping with it. Momentarily, I thought how it would be to slip my prick into her. She brought the pencil up to her red-lipped mouth, and began sucking on it. Her cheeks hollowed slightly. My cock gave another wicked lurch. Christ. The bitch was putting me on good. There was nothing I could do. She was a god damned tease. She knew I could see what she was doing, and she sucked that pencil like it was a Chinese cock.
"Get your mind on me," Bucker said hoarsely. "What were you doing there with a knife in your hand, and a dead man at your feet."
"How'd you come so quick?" I asked.
"None of your stinking lip," Bucker said. "Answer the question."
I knew I wasn't going to tell them about the license plate numbers. 3682.
"I had a letter from Tim, asking me to come down," I said.
"Where's the letter?"
"I threw it away."
"What did it say?"
"It was personal."
"What's your address in town, here?"
"I don't have one yet."
"When did you get in?"
"Just before you came along."
"Tell it."
"I went directly to Tim's place. I saw a man and a woman run for a car. The woman was nearly naked...."
"How nearly?."
"Panties, was all."
"What did they do, Gargan?"
"Drove off."
"Then what?"
"I saw this guy. I didn't know it was Tim. He came out the door, clawing at his back. I went over there. A woman screamed, then. I saw it was Tim, and he died right then. I pulled the knife, thinking maybe to save him, even though I knew it was too late. Then the woman screamed again, and Jinny came to the door."
Bucker scratched his cheek. It made a raspy sound. He looked at the girl on the chair, who was working away, getting pale now, but writing all the time.
"Shit," he said.
Fisher said, "They thought Gargan was insane, remember, when he killed that bastard. I mean, when he tried to kill him...."
"Get it right, Fisher."
"Anyway," Fisher said, "Gargan used to live here in Gulfport. That's how come they played it up in the newspapers. Jesus."
A slinky looking fellow in a dark suit came into the room from the hallway, carrying an oversized sheaf of papers that threatened to spill from his hands. He looked at me, then at Bucker, then at the girl, Mollie. He winked at Bucker and grabbed his crotch, then left the room.
Bucker cleared his throat. "You know Tim Fuchs' wife real well?"
"Well, I guess you could say ... I haven't actually seen her in quite a while."
"Young, isn't she?"
"Well, she's young, yeah."
"Very young. And very sexy, right? I mean, she's got an ass on her, right?"
I said nothing.
Bucker scratched his cheek again.
"Are you holding me?" I asked.
"Fuck you," Bucker said under his breath.
"I want to know. I'm entitled to a phone call." Bucker barked a laugh. "He's entitled! Shit."
"Buck?" It was Fisher.
"What?"
"It rings."
"So, it rings. So what? I don't like it, just the same. He's a bastard, with a record of beating guys senseless. I don't know. I just don't know."
I heard a tiny, muted whisper of a squeal. It came at the same time Bucker cleared his throat again. I looked at Mollie. She was coming. The orgasm tore at her, and her mouth was open, head down. Her tits heaved and thrust, the nipples jutting. Her thighs worked and her belly heaved in and out. But she clung to it stolidly, and got it off all the way, looking through narrowed eyes straight at the bulge of my pecker. She gave a few last squeezes of those fleshy thighs, smoothed what skirt there was over her leg, and looked straight at me. I winked at her. The tip of her tongue showed between her red, hot lips.
"Gargan?" Bucker said. "I'm going to tell you something. We think you killed him, see? Killed your best friend. We think there wasn't no man and a woman, with the woman half naked, see? But what we have won't stand up." He sighed and scratched his thigh. "So you can get the fuck out of here, Gargan."
I stood up, and plunged one hand in my right pocket and held my cock down. Mollie was staring at me. I couldn't understand what was wrong with my pecker. At a time like this.
Bucker said, "We're going to set you up, Gargan, let you roam till we get you. Think we won't get you solid, Gargan?" He barked a laugh. "We got some checking to do." He thrust his face close to mine and I smelled garlic. It came in hot waves. "You killed him over his wife, Gargan. Cunt. Right?"
"Anything you say."
"You had the knife in your hand."
"Who tipped you?"
"Get the fuck out of my sight, Gargan." Bucker's eyes lidded. "But don't leave town. Understand that clearly. Now ... get."
"But ... Buck?" Fisher said. "Jesus, you can tell he's...."
"Who's in charge?" Bucker said flatly.
"Why, you are, Sergeant."
"Dig it," Bucker said. "That's all I can say."
I grinned at Mollie, who was standing now. Then I got out of there.
My car was in the parking lot. The keys weren't there. I came back and checked at the desk, and a young guy in a police shirt, very neat, handed me my keys. He smiled in a friendly way.
I headed across town, for the Fuchs' home. I got to thinking about Gregg, Tim's brother. He ran a glider factory. He owned it, for that matter. What would he say when he got the news? He'd probably heard already.
Gregg was rather heavy with loot, and Tim had worked for him in one capacity or another for some time. From what I could gather, they were close.
There was an urgency inside me. The police weren't fooling around. I didn't allow Bucker's half-ass attitude to fool me. I made him angry, for some reason. It had been pretty plain. He'd let me go, thinking I would hang myself. It was a difficult spot to be in, and I didn't like it.
I came down Jinny's street, thinking about her. I couldn't help it. I thought about her a lot, and even with Tim just murdered, she was in my head, all ass and tit and cunt, heavy. My cock was semi-hard, and I had no control over it at all since fucking that hitchhiker, Lori. She had started the juices to foaming. "Next time I see you, I'll suck your cock," she'd said. Christ. How would it be if Jinny sucked my cock? Christ.
I knew what I had to do, and it wouldn't be easy. Somehow I had to get this fucking off my mind.
But it was there-solid!....
Then I saw the house.
The front was still well lighted, and there were two police cruisers parked in the street. I saw two harness bulls by the front door. I would not get to talk to Jinny tonight. I craned my neck plenty, trying to catch a look at Jinny as I drove past.
It was a rotten way to be. Lusting after Jinny, with Tim just dead, murdered. But, hell-it didn't change the fact that he'd been my best friend. I couldn't help myself. I felt horny as hell.
What should I do?
"Don't leave town...."
I didn't want to face it, but I knew I had to find who killed Tim. It was my job. It had been handed to me flatly. If I didn't find out who'd done it, Bucker would rig something. I knew his type. He was just waiting.
I drove a few blocks away, searching for a motel, and spotted one that looked right. The Tall Palms. Clean looking, and secluded, brick facade.
I drove in and parked by the sign reading: Office.
There was a big blonde behind the desk. She had tits under a white sweater that wouldn't quit. Her lips were broad and very red, and her eyes stared at you. She breathed through her mouth. After I signed, she came around the desk, and walked to the window and looked out at nothing. She wore a tight blue skirt, and she had one of the biggest asses I'd ever seen.
"Mona will be by with ice," the woman said.
"You the manager?" I asked.
"Yes." She smoothed the skirt over her hips, and breathed at me with a stiff smile. "Pleasant dreams," she said.
I went out and drove to my room, parked, and went inside. Very nice. Neat. Clean. And done in red and gold.
I remembered something, and cursed softly. I stepped outside again, and looked around. There was a liquor store across the street, down half a block. I walked over there and bought a jug of Martell's, and returned to the room.
A red-haired girl in tight black shorts, and a yellow T-shirt, stood by the door holding a pitcher.
"Here's your ice."
I unlocked the door and she went in. I followed.
"You Mona?"
"Yes."
She set the pitcher of ice down, and turned, looking at me. She had long pale legs, and the shorts crimped at her crotch, revealing the twin buns of her cunt. She sucked a deep breath, and her tits stuck out. My cock gave a lurch, but I knew I needed some rest, and I had to think.
She grinned at me, and looked me over, pausing at my fly deliberately.
She ran both hands up the sides of her thighs, and moved her ass to one side, so her hip thrust out.
"What you going to do?" she asked.
"To bed, honey. A drink and then to bed."
"How nice."
She moved slowly to the door, moving her ass in a tight grind. At the door, she turned and looked straight at my fly and said, "Anything else you want?"
"Not right now."
"You sick or something?"
"No. Just tired, and with something on my mind."
"I've got something on my mind, too, darling."
Her red hair was burnished to a high sheen, from brushing. Her face was heart shaped, and there was longing in it, revealed in the eyes, and around the curve of the lips. She was very sober looking, and I knew she didn't smile much. I knew she fucked herself silly every chance she got. She wanted me to fuck her. My cock kept stiffening, and I just let it stick out against my pants. I had Jinny on my mind, and I wished Mona would leave.
"Jesus," she said, licking her upper lip.
"Yeah."
"Maybe later?"
"Maybe."
"I can't stand it," she said softly. She turned with a flirt of her ass, and left the room. She did not close the door. Then she was back again, looking at me, very soberly. "I live in the room right next to yours," she said. She pointed toward the back wall, behind the bed.
"I see."
"Just thought I'd mention it."
"Nice of you."
She stared at me for a long moment, then went away. I heard her heels clicking on the walk.
I closed the door, unwrapped a glass, took a long drink of brandy. It was good. I lit a cigarette, then ground it out in an ash tray. I locked the door.
Undressed, I headed for the shower, my cock still at half mast. It had never acted like this. Not for some time, at least. There was a tingling in it, and my balls felt loaded.
Tim....
Dead.
Jinny. All alone....
I gave my cock a couple of strokes in the shower, and it stiffened straight up, toward my belly. Jesus. I thought about Mona. Then I gritted my teeth, and said, "Fuck you," and finished with the soap, rinsed off, stepped out and toweled with a thick one. They were quite accommodating, these people. The towel was scented. Lavender.
I took a long piss, then, with my cock still a' throb, and half erect.
Back in the room, I poured a glassful of brandy, and stretched out on the bed. I lit a cigarette, and blew smoke at the ceiling.
Bucker. A pure son of a bitch if there ever was.
What did he have in mind?
I knew I had to find who killed Tim, and there was nothing to go on but the last four digits of that license plate number.
I flapped my cock back and forth, and sipped the brandy, and smoked, and then I heard a giggle.
It sounded as if it were in the same room with me. It came again, soft and throaty. I turned on the bed, half expecting to see somebody, but there was nobody.
It came again. Then somebody said in a feminine voice, "Kiss me, baby."
Then I got it. And, for Christ's sake, I could actually see them.
There was a heating unit set into the wall on the right side of the bed. The damned thing was the wall at that point. It separated the two rooms. The real wall came down close to the heating unit, but it did not join with the metal. There was a space of over an inch, revealing lights and bodies in the next room. Mona's room.
"C'mon, honey, I can't stand it."
That was the big blonde, the manager. She stood there feeling of Mona's ass, thrusting her pelvis against the girl.
I could lie on the bed, and sip brandy, and watch. I could see the bed in the other room, quite plainly. They moved over to the bed, and it was Mona who was kissing the hell out of the blonde.
"Feel me up, honey," the blonde panted.
"Christ, I'm hot," Mona said.
Mona slid her hands up the blonde's blue skirt, pulling the cloth up over a bare ass. What an ass! My cock was stiff as hell now, and bouncing back and forth.
"Rub it," the blonde said. "Oh, Jesus, no ... c'mon ... quick. I want it!"
She flung herself on the bed, and spread her thighs wide open, at the same time feeling Mona's leg. Mona unzipped her black shorts, and peeled them down the long, pale legs. She had a cunt the size of a doormat. I'd never seen anything like it. A mash of thick red curls. She rubbed her cunt, and knelt on the bed, with her ass stuck up toward me. Her cunt hung down with the pink lips glistening.
"Lick it," the blonde gurgled. "Eat me, baby. Suck me off.. suck my cunt!"
Mona climbed over the blonde and began sucking a tit. Then she mouthed beneath the wrinkled blue skirt, and licked thigh.
"Turn around," the blonde said.
Mona twisted her ass around, and spread her thighs wide apart.
"Oh, God ... well do it together."
They both dove at each other, and began tonguing and slurping, eating each other's cunt. They began to writhe, and I could see Mona's tongue lap and tear at the juicy slot the blonde urged to her. They were tangled in a juicy sixty-nine. The blonde's ass began to gyrate, the thighs spread open so far it looked as if they might break off. The noises, the slurps and sucks and moans and licking laps, came straight through to me. They were both really built, in their different ways, and here I was with a terrific hard-on, and nothing to put it in.
I stared at their tonguing mouths, and at the asses and the cunts, and took hold of my cock and gave it a couple slow drags. Jesus. The knob was purple and gleaming, and hard as steel. It shone like a mirror.
I quit that, using pure volition, and took another long drink, emptying the glass of brandy. I got up and refilled it, and sank down on the bed again, leaning toward the heating unit, trying to see all I could take in.
"Suck it, you bitch," the blonde said. "Eat me! Suck my cunt. Ahhhhhhh, Jesus!"
Then she was at the other one, licking and sucking and slurping. I could see saliva and cunt sauce drenching their bellies and thighs and asses. It drooled down the crack of the blonde's ass, and Mona licked at it furiously.
I was feeling the brandy a little now. I stepped close to the heating unit, and said, "You girls enjoying yourselves?"
The blonde lifted her dripping mouth. "Fuck you!" she moaned. She reached out, and there was a click, and the lights went out.
Me and my big mouth.
I lay down on the bed with another half glass of brandy, my hard-on jerking, and closed my eyes, listening to the slurps and sucks and moans.
It went on for some time. Finally it was quiet.
I sank into fitful sleep, woke up sharply with sun at the window, and my cock still hard. It had been like an iron bar all night long, straining for pussy, and it ached pleasantly. There was a kind of arousal. The sensation of sticking it into a juicy cunt. It felt as heavy as lead, and eager for fucking.
The place was very quiet now, with morning.
I stared at the heating unit, remembering what had gone on in that room last night.
Immediately vivid traces of dream returned, of cruel nightmare, actually. Tim, lying dead, with a knife in his back. I picked him up and ran staggering with him through the rainy night, the thick warm blood pouring down over my hands and legs.
Straight ahead in blue mists, stood Jinny Fuchs, stark naked, leering, motioning to me lewdly. And behind me thundered Bucker in his stiff gray suit. Sergeant Bucker.
He yelled at me steadily.
"We'll get you, Gargan! We'll get you!"
I knew I needed some breakfast.
CHAPTER THREE
The one thing on my mind now, was Jinny Fuchs. My pecker itched with thoughts of her, and there was a heavy, throbbing tingle in my nuts. At the same time, I was filled with urgency over Tim's death; a steadied nervousness about what could happen, with the irate Sergeant Bucker at the helm. I knew Bucker was after me. He didn't like me. His cop consciousness was probably all the further impelled to action, because of his knowledge over what had happened in Jacksonville when I caught that son of a bitch of a redneck with his greasy cock ramming my wife's snatch.
Thoughts of that alone made me want to do things to blot it out. Marcie ... Marcie....
Jinny, I thought. How will she act when I see her? What had she told the police? Will she look the same as ever-sexy and hot and ready? Will she still want to touch me, to rub her leg against me? Will she...?
My tensing prick was swelling against my will again. All through me was a sensation of heavy sexuality. It was thick, like syrup, in my mind. Visions of thighs, and ass, and large tits, and juicy red lipped mouths, and the "Yes, yes, yes," of a woman pleading for a fuck, were a kind of torture. Again I recalled the sight of Mona and the big blonde manager cunt lapping each other last night in the other room.
I poured a stiff drink of brandy, and knocked it down, then started for the door.
Just as my hand touched the knob, it began to turn, and there was a loud, knuckled knock.
I opened the door. It was Sergeant Bucker, still in the stiff gray suit, a rawness about his red face. Those tight, almost gimlet eyes, surveyed me rigidly.
"Greetings, Gargan," he said hoarsely.
"What d'you want?"
"Just dropped by to let you know we know where you're staying. So you don't have to tell us."
He watched me, sneering slightly.
"Okay, so you know."
He sucked a long breath. "I'm going to tell you something, Gargan. I don't give a shit what you said. I don't give a shit what you think. You're not getting away with it. You knifed a man, killed him ... you did it for a piece of ass, Gargan." He stared directly into my eyes. "Don't say anything. I know your kind. That's what you did, and I'm going to nail you for it."
"Is that all?"
"Yeah." He shrugged. "Go have yourself a time."
He looked at me for a long moment, turned abruptly on his heel, and stalked out to the waiting police cruiser.
I stood there and watched the car move off swiftly.
I locked the door, took my car, drove to the nearest breakfast emporium, and wolfed some fast soft-boiled eggs and toast. There was a bar next door. I went in and drank three port wines. I always liked port wine immediately after breakfast.
Then I headed for Jinny Fuchs' home.
I drove slowly down the street, heaved a gentle sigh. There were no cop cars in evidence. I could feel the wine and the brandy, and if Tim Fuchs hadn't been dead it would have been a perfect day. It wasn't hot, it wasn't cold. There was a soft wind in from the Gulf of Mexico, and it sighed in gesticulant Australian pines, tossing their finger-like tops. The sun raced behind tantalizingly white flower-like clouds, shafting the earth with intermittent golden light.
I stopped the car, got out, and walked toward the porch. My guts were tight. My loins seethed. My prick pressed dutifully against my fly with a kind of excruciating hope. I cursed myself for that, but I couldn't help it. My mind swarmed with thoughts of Jinny, and 'way in the back Marcie memories hovered, and in the middle, was Tim Fuchs.
I glanced at the spot where he'd fallen. It had been scrubbed well, but there was a reddish tinge to the cement.
I pressed the buzzer.
Immediately, the door swung open, and there she was.
Jesus...!
"Hi, Stretch."
She just hovered there. She wore a tight dark green skirt, semi-mini, encasing those lovely, swelling hips. Shady gray stockings clung to her calves, and what I could see of the lush curve of her thighs. She had on a pair of red mules, with enormous pink pom-poms. They made her ankles look very slim and enticing. She had a pencil waist that quickly swelled to tits that perked. They weren't huge tits. But they were big enough, and with obvious nipples under the white lace flimsy with the V neck. Her chestnut hair swarmed around her head in luscious curls, and her deep brown eyes were wide and thoughtful. Her face was a perfect oval, with an upturned nose, and a smallish, but lush-lipped red, glistening mouth that pouted some as she spoke.
Right then she licked her lips with a pink, pointed tongue, and my pecker lurched.
"Don't start talking about how sorry you are," she said. "Don't say too much about it, Stretch. Are you all right?"
"Yes."
"C'mon, honey. Inside."
She didn't move, just slid a little to one side. She watched me as I brushed past her, feeling her tits, and a light brush of her knee. Her hand touched my arm, and she turned and closed the door, looked straight at me, and locked it, smiling gently.
"I'm all alone," she said. "They've all left."
"I see. How are you?"
"Fine. It's so good to see you, Stretch." She looked straight at me and held her hand out. I took it, thinking to shake it if that's what she wanted. That wasn't what she wanted. She clasped my hand, and then I felt her stiff little red-nailed finger scratch deliberately at my palm. I watched her as she did it. She didn't smile and she didn't speak, but her lips were parted and wet, and there was a kind of glaze to her eyes.
Then she took her hand, turned, and walked swiftly over toward a small bar. "You'll want a drink, if I know you. Right?"
Her ass was so tight and beautiful under that green skirt, it set my teeth on edge. I wanted to run after her and ram my cock straight between the bunching cheeks. I was hot as hell, now. I couldn't control my cock at all. It stood straight out, and I let it. I stared at her ass and those lush legs in the gray nylon.
"Brandy?"
I didn't answer her. I went over, and slid my hands around her waist, and kissed the back of her head. She thrust her ass against my cock, and wriggled it around, then turned and handed me a glass.
"Drink up," she said, smiling a little. "And get this. I'm glad he's dead, understand? Glad. It makes me happy. He was a bastard ... him and his hunting. He didn't think of me. He didn't think of anybody but himself. So I'm glad. Glad, you hear?"
"Sure," I said. That was all I needed. A little wifely hysteria. But it wasn't coming, after all.
"Here," she said, taking my hand. "Come with me." I tried to watch her ass as I trailed along with her down a hall, knowing I was going to get fucked by somebody I'd wanted to screw for a long time. She entered a room, waved her hand.
I looked around. Large, pine-paneled, comfortable, with desk and heavy leather chair. The walls were covered with bows and arrows of every description, all neatly arrayed in designs, fanned out. One entire wall was hung with hunting knives. I checked it carefully. One of the knives was missing, the panel lighter where it had hung. The blades gleamed.
"That was his life," Jinny said softly. "Now. What's on your mind?"
With thoughts of Tim and how he had died, I turned on her and took hold of her waist. She grinned and slung her pelvis at me, and roved her bulging cunt around on my cock.
Her teeth were set, her lips parted over them. "Jesus," she said, sucking a wild, gagging breath. "I've wanted to fuck you for so long, Stretch! Jesus, every time I think of you ... I just ... I have to fingerfuck myself. Time after time. My God, Stretch, what is it you do to me?"
I set my glass quickly on a small table, and held her and kissed her. Her lips spread open, and her tongue searched wetly, warmly, in my mouth. I could feel her cunt against my cock. I grabbed her ass, and pulled her to me, and she spread her legs. She reached down and pulled her green skirt up to her waist, and spread her thighs wide. I felt down her hip, and over her hot, fleshy thigh, and touched her wet, slimy cunt. She wore no panties.
She gave a little gasp, and her hand was at my fly. The little fingers worked, and the zipper unzipped, and I felt her hot hand circle my dong. She pulled it out, stepped back, holding her skirt up, and stared at my crotch.
She clenched her eyes shut. "Jesus," she said. Then she opened her eyes, and said, "In the bedroom, quick."
The bedroom was across the hall. All I saw was that there was a big mirror at the far end, and it was all done in pink, and then we sat on the bed, clutching at each other wildly.
"Wait!" She stood up, and tore off her clothes.
I did the same.
Then she was naked, except for the gray nylons, and a black garter belt that bit into the steamy white flesh. Her tits poked straight out, with the nipples hard and pink. She spread her thighs and began rubbing her cunt, fingering the damp slit. Her pussy was bright, gleaming chestnut, too-thick curls, wiry and beautifully bunned.
"Oh, God, Stretch. I've wanted you to fuck me for so long!"
"Me, too, Jinny, baby."
"What'll we do?"
"Let's fuck, then!"
I grabbed her hips, feeling around to her hot bunned ass, and drew her toward me where I sat on the edge of the bed. I kissed her belly, then her twat, and something came over me. I had to eat her cunt. I wanted to sink my teeth into it, and tongue her till she was crazy.
I swung her around, and she lay on the bed, with her knees up, her thighs wide open. I dragged her back, and lay beside her, and stuck my tongue in her mouth. She writhed and moaned, and I sucked her tits, then mouthed her belly, and then I was down there where I wanted to be.
"Ahhhhhh, God," she whispered. "Are you going to...?"
"Spread 'em, baby."
She spread her legs farther apart. I got down between those luscious, white, fleshy thighs, my cock aching and jerking and pulsing, little droplets of gism purling on the tip. I knelt between her thighs, and lowered my head, then plunged.
Her hands grabbed my head just as my tongue licked at the delicious slit. I mouthed the curling hairs, and the buns, the slit, the hole. I sucked at the hole, and felt her thighs squeeze against the sides of my head, hot and sticky now. Oozes of sweet love juice pulsed from her slit, and I began working on her clitoris. I was frenzied, now. I couldn't get enough of her. I wanted to chew her to pieces.
"Ahhh, Stretch. Tongue it. Eat me, baby! Suck my cunt! ... Ahhhhhh, it feels so good, honey. Lick that again. Suck it, honey ... ohhhhhhh, darling, the way you do it."
Her ass was up off the bed, her back arched. I got my hands under her, and took hold of her gorgeous ass, and lifted her straight up to my mouth, and drank of Jinny's wonderful cunt. Her legs waved in the air, and she laid them over my shoulders. I was face-first straight into her sweet bush. The hairs were wiry against my tongue and lips. They sprang beneath my probing.
"Ahhhhhh, Stretch, I'm coming, I'm coming! I'm coming, for Christ's sake! ... LICK IT! SUCK ME!" I could hear her panting like crazy, and I was fighting for breath, too, and she came. Love sauce dripped from her cunt, and her ass was wild. She plunged and lunged and ground her cunt against my mouth, her hands forcing wildly on my head.
Then she gave a long, slow groan, and lay still. I lowered her ass to the bed, and kissed her twat, then snaked up beside her.
She blinked at me. "That was nice. But I'm still hot, Stretch. I'm going to ... I'm going to suck your cock if it's the last thing I ever do."
I was on my back, my long prick stretched toward the ceiling, moving and jerking and dribbling clear liquid from the steel-like, purplish knob.
"You want me to suck you off?" she whispered. "Yeah." I could hardly speak. That mouth. Jinny's beautiful lips and mouth. She was going down on me. She was going to suck my prick.
"You did it for me. I'll do it for you. But, I've a confession, honey." Her hand went down and took hold of my throbbing weapon. "I always wanted to blow you, Stretch. I'd suck bananas, and Tim's cigars ... everything, thinking of your big, fat cock."
I could not speak, just watch her. I nodded, and that was all I could manage. My pecker was in her hot little hand and she was sliding her fist up and down, massaging my dong. Her hand was slippery on my cock, because I'd dribbled a lot of juice.
She leered at me, and licked her lips, then she worked herself down toward the waiting tower. I propped my head on a pillow, so I could watch clearly.
I really wanted to see this, as well as feel it.
Jinny....
She hunched above my crotch, looking straight at my cock, her lips parted. Slowly, she jacked at my hammer, skinning it back over the big, now flaming knob. She gave a moan, and her head began to come down. I watched that beautiful small red-lipped succulent mouth as it descended. I held my breath. She took her tongue and slowly licked the head of my prong, tonguing it, then she gripped the base with one hand, and opened her mouth wide, and engulfed the swollen, burning knob, and sucked the shaft straight into her hot, wet, velvety mouth.
Unbidden, my ass rose from the bed, as I urged the full length of my cock into her mouth. Her red lips bulged around the white shaft. Her cheeks hollowed as she gave a-juicy, mouthing suck clear to the knob again, then dipping down, thrusting it deep to her throat. As she sucked my cock, her little hand slowly masturbated me, close to the base. How she could blow!
Saliva slimed the length of my penis, and I could see it drool from her lips as she sucked. She moaned to herself with each downstroke, and her mouth was so soft and slippery inside. As she drew upward, her lips mushed out, and it was an obscene sight. She had good suction, too. Jacking me off as she blew me.
Her head began to bob over my crotch in a steadied rhythm, and her lips sucked at my hard, pulsing pecker with deep appeasement. I reached down and caressed her neck, under the tendrils of chestnut hair, then I forced her head down on my cock, and another inch or two went into her lovely, sweet, hot, wet mouth.
I couldn't stand it. I reached down, and tore her off, and thrust her back, grinning lewdly, against the head of the bed. Then I straddled her tits, and said, "Open your mouth, Jinny."
"Ahhhh, Jesus," she said.
She grabbed my cock with her right hand, and I thrust it full between her red lips, into her waiting mouth. Her eyes were on me, hot and black now, watching me with a lascivious stare. Watching it sink into her beautiful face nearly sent me off. But I managed to hold back. I began to slowly, earnestly fuck her in the mouth as she sucked and sucked, moaning and gasping tiny bubbles of suck-sauce around my straining, powerful, gleaming whang. It was just like a bar of glass, now. I didn't fuck her in the mouth fast, I eased it in to the hilt, till it poked into her throat. And at the same time, she sucked mightily. Her lips thrust out and in as I screwed her beautiful face.
"Suck it, you bitch," I said. "Suck my cock good, baby, don't stop. I'm going to shoot a load you'll remember."
She moaned and sucked. Her cheeks bellowed in as she drew on my pecker. My cock was throbbing now, like a machine, and I was crazy inside. I wanted to smash her head, fuck her through to the bed, tear her apart. I was a stallion. I reached back and fondled her dripping cunt, sticking my finger deep inside, reaming her slit. She was crazy, too, now. The sounds she made were something to hear. Moans, and little throat cries of sexual heat. And gasps. Her nostrils flared, and her mouth slurped and gulped and sucked.
"I'm coming," I whispered. "I'm going to shoot!"
She sucked fiercely then, and I'd never had anything like it ever. I stretched over her head and started pumping my cock at her juicy mouth.
It flamed in my ass and around my balls, and gathered force and began to shoot through my cock. It was like hot pebbles of ecstasy streaming through. I pumped my prick at her lips and hosed gobs of shooting gism into her wildly cocksucking mouth. She swallowed and gulped avidly, never missing a stroke. I was crazily fucking her face, and she blew me to the last dangling dreg. My cock jerked in her mouth, and she gave it a lingering suck, and I lifted myself, and turned on my side, panting, and sweating, the ecstasy diminishing slowly, wrenching every fiber of my being.
"Oh, what a delicious cock you've got," she breathed, snuggling against me. She had her hand on it again. It hadn't gone all the way down, and she was beginning to masturbate me again, her fist sliding in the slime. "If you only knew how I wanted to suck you off," she whispered. "I knew you had a big baby of a prick, honey. I just knew it. I'd dream of it. It's so long and satiny, Stretch. Smooth, like silk. It feels so good in my mouth. I just wanted to have you never stop coming. What a load! It was sweet."
"You like to suck cock, huh?"
She blinked at me, and grinned. "Yes," she breathed. "Could you tell?"
"Had enough?"
"No, Stretch. I want a good fuck, now. My cunt's on fire, and we never fucked yet. Christ, how I'd think of you nights, in bed with that son of a bitch. Once I was in the kitchen, and I used the broom handle. I made believe it was your whang, Stretch. I fucked the shit out of myself with that broom handle, let me tell you."
"You don't need a broom handle, now. Can you get me good and hard again?"
"Baby, look!"
I gazed down at my cock. It was stiff as a crowbar. This little bitch did plenty to me. I had always known she would, and now I was certain.
She dove down, and plunged the head of my cock in her mouth, then lifted her dripping lips and grinned lecherously at me.
She hunched over me, moving one thigh across me, and lifted her ass, and held my prick, and aimed it.
"Now, you're going to get fucked, mister."
She lowered her ass and I watched and felt as my cock slowly eased into her delightful twat. She sank down until it was all the way inside her, then she began rotating her hips in a circle, grinding her ass and cunt down at me, lifting up and down as she-screwed herself on my whang.
Her plump white thighs were widespread, and it was a sight to watch my cock slip slimily up into her stretched, oozing snatch. Christ, I'd never get enough of Jinny. I wanted to fuck her and have her suck me till the world ended. There was nothing like it.
I'd been right in what I'd thought about Jinny. She was something else when it came to cock and cunt. She loved it as much as I did. We would make a beautiful pair. But it would just be fucking all the time, I knew that. Well what was wrong with that?
Plenty, I thought.
She was a whore. That's what she was.
She adored cock. You could see it in her eyes. When she was sucking my whang, her eyes had been all gone with it, praying at the base of the tree, so to speak. It had been in the way she sucked, slavering and drooling and mouthing and moaning and that endless praying with those adoring eyes. I'd never seen anything like it, anywhere.
I reached down and caressed her fleshy thighs. They were so smooth and pliant. I watched my cock drive up into her as she squeezed down, fucking, and her cunt lips spread juicily around my pecker.
"Like it?" she whispered.
"Yes."
"Fuck-suck," she lipped. "Fuck-suck. Cock. Cunt. Shit," she said. Her eyes rolled in her head. "Cock. Big stiff cock. Suck it. Fuck it. Lick it. Ahhhhhh. Jesus. I can feel it, Stretch. I'M SO HOT! Ahhhhhhhhh. Oh, Shit, fuck, cunt. Ahhhhh. Fuck me! Fuck me!"
The doorbell rang.
Jinny was hunched over me now, driving her ass up and down on my cock as if she'd never stop. She hadn't heard the doorbell. It buzzed again. It was loud, and nasty.
"Jinny. There's somebody at the door."
"Let 'em ... be! Fuck, shit!"
She kept her ass working. My cock slid in and out. The doorbell buzzed wildly, and continued to buzz, throbbing through the house. Whoever it was, was leaning against it, and meant business.
"C'mon, Jinny," I said. "We've got to answer it."
"Fuck me!...."
I reached out and tore her off my cock, and she rolled over on the bed, rubbing her hand on her cunt. I quickly slid off the bed, wiped my dripping cock on the spread, and got into my clothes as fast as possible.
The loud, warping sound of the buzzer did not cease.
I looked at Jinny. She stuck her tongue out at me, her eyes glazed with passion as she massaged her oozing pussy.
Dressed, and with a dripping half hard-on, I went down the hall, across the living room to the door. I opened the door.
"Hello, Gargan."
It was Sergeant Bucker. He sneered at me and sniffed. Then he bulled past me.
"Mind if I come in?"
I stood there by the door, holding it open, staring at him.
He turned and looked at me. "You're to stay away from Mrs. Fuchs, understand? Don't bother her. Dig it."
He turned at a sound from the hall.
It was Jinny. She wore a yellow wrap-around, and her face was flushed. Her hair was a ratty mess. Her lipstick was smeared all over her chin, and her mouth shone wetly.
"Get out," she said. "Get out of here, Sergeant!"
He nodded slowly. "So," he said. He glanced at me. His fly was bulging. He had a hard-on, I could tell.
"Get out!" Jinny said loudly.
He walked through the door, turned on the stoop, and said, "Dig it, Gargan. That's all I can say. Just dig it, that's all."
He trudged out to the waiting police car.
CHAPTER FOUR
"Are you going to finish fucking me?"
I looked at her. She held the wrap-around open, and spread her legs, fingering her snatch. Her vagina looked oily and bubbly. Her face was contorted with lust, the eyes staring fixedly.
All of this made my cock come up again, throbbing in my pants. I wanted to screw her blind.
"I'm sorry," I said. "There are things I've got to do."
She ran to me, and grabbed at my pecker through my pants.
"Not now, Jinny. Jinny ... !" I held her away, and looked into her hot brown eyes. "What did the police say to you about Tim?"
"They ... they just asked a bunch of silly questions. Please, Stretch, for God's sake. I'm all pent up. I want that cock in my cunt. Can't you understand? A girl can't stand it, Stretch. I'm on fire for a fuck!"
"What silly questions? What did they ask you?"
"Just ... just ... about you, about everybody ... I mean, oh, God, what do I mean? I can't talk about that now, honey." She grabbed wildly for my cock. "I want to fuck! I want to fuck!"
"Jinny, I'll see you again soon. We can finish it then. Okay?"
I didn't wait for her answer, but went to the door, shoved through, closed the door on her sexual wails, and started down the walk toward my car.
I wasn't looking at the car, really, or I would have seen them. I might have done something. I might have suspected something was wrong. But I was thinking about Jinny, and how she had sucked me off, and the feel of her mouth wrapped around my whang, and how she had looked, slobbering and sucking and slurping, and of how her juicy snatch felt, so it wasn't until I'd put my fingers on the car door handle, that I realized somebody was in the car.
The door swung open, and I saw the gun. It was a .45 automatic, and the fingers that held it were strained and white.
"C'mon, get in."
He was a young guy, with a very white face. The face was long and dour, and the eyes, a very pale blue, almost the color of sea water, regarded me balefully. He wore a black shirt and black slacks.
"Oh, baby," a girl said. "Look at him. For Christ's sake, he's got a hard-on!"
"Shut up," the guy said. He swacked at her with his hand. They were both in the front seat, and I could not see the girl well.
The man got out of the car, and motioned me inside.
"No kidding," he said mildly. "Did you fuck her?" I said nothing.
He rubbed his fly delicately, and said, "Get in the fucking car, you."
I knew he meant it. I slid in under the wheel. He ran around the car, opened the opposite door, and slid in. The girl was between us.
"Now, look," he said. "So we'll understand each other. Screw around, and you get a forty-five slug in your ass. I don't give a shit, see? It don't matter to me what happens. I mean, I don't give a shit what they said. You screw around, and I plug you."
He said all of this with extreme mildness, pawing in his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He got the pack out, knocked one into his thin-lipped mouth, and asked the girl to light it.
"Get going, you," he said. "Drive straight ahead, and I'll tell you when."
The girl's thigh was pressed against mine. Her hand came down and began rubbing my leg. I glanced at her. She was something, all right. A pale blonde, with very thick hair, tumbled around her shoulders. She wore a mini-jumper, in orange, and her tits were like an Amsterdam mama's. She wore a white blouse under the orange mini-jumper, and it was open across the creamy bulges of her breasts, with the cleavage a wild matter to regard.
Her thighs were beautifully rounded, and sexy looking at first glance, as some girls' are. The skirt was nearly up to her crotch, and her fingers were already at my fly.
"Can I jack him off?" she said. "Can I, huh?"
"You can't jack him off, Debbie. Not now, anyway. He's got to tool this thing, and I can't help it how you've got this thing about jacking strange cocks off. Now, get with it, for Christ's sake!" He paused, then said, "Get going, Jack."
I drove off. Her fingers probed at my cock, and her breathing mouth was very close.
"Is Solly coming?" the girl asked.
The guy turned and looked through the rear window.
"Yeah, Solly's with us."
The girl sucked air through her teeth loudly.
The guy said, "Solly wants to get his cock in your mouth, Debbie. You know that. You'd better be careful."
"The nasty thing!"
I looked in the rear view mirror, and saw an Ltd. coming along behind us, sunlight glinting on maroon. So far as I could see, there was only one man, behind the wheel, in the following car. "Look," I said. "What the hell is this all about?"
"Just drive," the guy said.
"But, Winny," the girl, Debbie, said. "I just wanted to jerk this bastard off. What harm can it be to you if I pull his whang?"
"Keep your hands in your god damned lap," Winny said. His voice was very smooth, like a woman's, without any drag at all. He probably had no Adam's apple.
"Can I just unzip his fly, and play with it?"
"No," Winny said. "Keep your fucking fingers to yourself. Stick your fucking fingers up your god damned snatch...!"
"You nasty thing!" Debbie said.
She moved her ass around, rubbing against me.
"I just want to feel his rod, Winny," the girl said. "He's got such a walloping cock, you! I never seen one like that!"
"Feel it through his pants, and let it go."
"But I want to jack him off!" She was breathing heavily, wriggling close to me. I could feel her sexual heat. She smelled good. There was something light and airy about her. She was quite young, maybe sixteen. Her complexion was like ice cream. Vanilla.
"Turn here," Winny said. "And go straight. I'll tell you when."
We were headed out of Gulfport, toward swamp country. I didn't like the feel of this. My cock began to droop, even with Debbie's protracted ministrations.
"Can you explain what this is all about?"
"I can give you a hint," Winny said. He cleared his throat. It was like rubbing two pieces of newspaper together. "You got to learn to stay away from this Fuchs bitch."
"What a name!" Debbie broke in. "Fucky Fuchs!"
"Shut your very stupid spigot," Winny said. Then he said, "An' you got to learn enough to go back where you come from, Gargan. Back to Jax. Where you belong healthy. Understand?"
I didn't say anything.
"We got to teach you the rudiments of how to obey signals," he said. "You had enough signals already."
"Damn it all," Debbie said. "You like to jack off. I seen you. I know about you, Winny. So why can't I jack him off? It gives me kicks to jack a guy off when he's driving a car. I jacked one off once, and he shot all over the windshield. What a son of a bitch he was."
Winny began to hum softly. He had his hand on Debbie's leg, the fingers crimped into the soft flesh of her thigh.
We were already out of town, passing thick pines.
"Turn in the next right, okay?"
In the rear view mirror, the Ltd. was still winging along behind us. I saw the turn-off, and took it, and we bounced on a rutted dirt road, with the pines close to the road shoulder. The trees were thick. We kept driving.
"Wouldn't you like me to jack you off, huh?" Debbie said close to my ear. "You can look at my pussy while I do it to you."
I said nothing. I was plenty worried. For all his mildness, I knew Winny was a bastard. He wouldn't have been here unless he was a bastard. And there was no telling what the other guy was like. But why the hell had they dragged along this girl?
What did they plan?
"Now, turn in there," Winny said, flagging the automatic at an opening in the trees.
"There's no road," I said, slowing the Merc.
"Road smoad. There's grass. You get the hell in there, baby."
I turned in off the road and we jounced on sand and sod, through yellowing knee-high grass.
"Jus' keep going. Over by them trees, through there."
I drove past a tangle of cabbage palms, and around behind them, and toward the trees Winny had pointed out. They were pines. There was a big water oak.
"Stop by that big tree."
He meant the oak. I stopped the car.
"Now, get out."
He was already out, and running around the car, waving the gun. I climbed out and stood there. The girl slid out, her skirt up to her waist. The stockings were light tan, and gartered high on fleshy white thighs. She wore red panties. Her crotch was wet. So were her lips wet. They glistened. She kept licking them. They were bulbous lips, protruding lips, but they didn't look bad. Just strange.
She pulled hair out of her face, and stared at my fly. "I'm gonna jack him off, god damn it!"
The Ltd. came along, and braked, and a fat, squat guy who looked something like a toad, got out and stood there staring at Debbie. He wore a yellow shirt and yellow slacks, and yellow shoes. His thighs were fat and his head rested on his shoulders, without very much, if any, neck, and his mouth was stretched wide and blubbery. His eyes squinted against the sunlight and he was going bald. He had black hair plastered across the bald top of his skull.
He land of squatted as he walked over toward us. "Solly," the girl said. "You've got a bone-on!"
He spoke from deep down, a guttural croak. "It's just for you, baby. You been ignoring me. You gonna get it this time. I got to."
Winny looked at me and smoked his cigarette.
He said, "You, Gargan. Sit down against that tree."
"I don't get you."
Something came over him. It was snake-like, the way he moved toward me and rammed the automatic into my gut. "Sit down by the tree!"
I sat down by the tree and looked at him.
"You piss me off," he said. "Really you do." He was breathing deeply. "I feel like plugging you straight in the heart. You want that? Huh? Huh?"
I said nothing.
"Now," Solly said gutturally. "We here all alone, an' nobody gives a shit, an' we can do wha' we like, huh? I mean, there's no rush-rush about this gig, an' I got to get my cock sucked by this creepy lil bitch, th' way she been putting me on with her ass, an' all."
It was a long speech. His head seemed to recede even further into his shoulders as he spoke. Toward the end, he began to sound more and more like a frog.
"You, Debbie-bitch. You going to suck my cock, get it through your head, you. See it?" He began unzipping his pants, digging inside. He hauled it out along with gobs of black pubic hair, and jacked it at her. It was a very fat, stubby cock. It looked nasty and vicious. He grunted and hauled his balls out, too. They were fat, and suited his pecker, covered with black hair. It looked obscene as hell, the way he stood there, with his fat cock and balls rammed out of those neat yellow pants. He skinned his cock back, and the knob was enormous, flaming red, and a pearl of gism glistened on the tip, then dripped to the ground. It struck his yellow right shoe. "Ahhhh," he said. "You going to blow, baby, blow cock! Understand?"
He started toward Debbie.
"No," she said. "No!" She flung up her hands.
"I say yes!' You going to suck me off, you stinking young bitch. I like that mouth you got there. It's fat an' juicy, and it'll feel nice on my cock. You been layin' around, all spread out, with your pussy hanging out, and you been raising your ass at me, an' you been doing all these fucking things, an' I can't take it. Understand? Now, you got this thing about jacking guys' cocks off, and I got a thing too. It's about that fat mouth of yours, bunny hunch. An' get ready for it, then!"
Debbie wheeled and started running.
I never saw anything like what happened. The toad moved like lightning, and dove, and brought her down right in front of me.
Then he came to his knees, gripping her by the hair. He cuffed her across the face. He got to his feet, panting and grunting, a long string of drool purling like a silken white thread from his rubber lips. He dragged her to her knees, right in front of him, and held her there, so she could stare straight at his cock.
The exertions had done nothing to his steely hard-on.
"Ahh, Jesus," he moaned. "You going to suck my bone, you bitch."
"No. Solly! Please. I don't want to suck that nasty thing!" She turned her head quickly. "Winny, get this slob off of me. I can't ... I won't!...."
"It's your business," Winny said, holding the gun pointed at me, while he unzipped his fly. "It ain't none of mine." He reached in and brought out a long, skinny, flaccid cock. He began caressing it, rubbing it with his fingers as if he were picking up sugar, or something. He held the gun straight at me, and pulled at his cock. It began to come to attention slowly, like a worm straightening out on a sunny sidewalk.
"You're going to jack off!" Debbie yelled.
Solly grabbed her head and twisted her around.
"Now," he said, looking down at her, holding his cock with his right hand, so it was skinned back and the flaming crimson head poked at her, dripping subtly. "You going to suck me off or I'll kill you. Now, Debbie, honey. You know I'd just as soon kill you. You know I mean it. You seen me knock off that asshole in Valdosta, at the garage. Remember, Debbie-girl? Well, all the way from Chicago, I been musing on how it would be veritable paradise to have you suck my cock. And this morning when I woke up, I knew today was the day." He cuffed her brutally across the face. The hoarse voice growled.
"You suck or you die. Make your choice."
"You put it that way," Debbie said. She had tears in her eyes, and one fat droplet trickled down her cheek. She sniffled her nose, and reached up and took hold of the bulbous cock. Her little hand, with those slim, red-nailed fingers, curled around the thick, obscene shaft.
You could tell Solly was nearly passing out with it. He wobbled on his fat legs. He thrust his ass forward with a grunt, and his big cock moved toward her.
"Suck it, you crazy bitch!"
Her voice was small, remote. "All right."
"Say you want to suck it!"
"I want to suck it."
"You want to suck what?"
"Your cock." She shouted it. "I want to suck your god damned fat cock!"
"Nice baby."
He had both hands on her head, the fingers snarled in her rich, thick blonde hair.
"Now. Get to it. You got a lovely mouth, Debbie, honey." He was groaning it, crooning it in that hoarse, frog-like, guttural croaking voice. "I love your lovely lippy luscious mouth, girlie. Suck my cock, now!"
She opened her interesting mouth, looking up at him, and moved in. Her tongue came out first, and licked the tip of his flaming knob. He groaned. She stuck her raw-looking lips out, and completely engulfed the head of his throbbing, jerking muscle of sex. The veins stood out on his rod, and she moved in and in, shoving her head, with his fingers caught in her hair. He arched his back, thrusting his cock at her mouth, and she began to blow the son of a bitch.
You could tell it was a thoroughgoing mouthful, and you could hear her breathe spasmodically through flared nostrils. Her head began to move slowly back and forth, bobbing over Solly's hard cock.
He started moaning, and crooning and groaning in his throat. Spittle drooled from his lips, and strung down onto Debbie's forehead.
I glanced toward Winny. He was jacking off, now. His pecker was long and curling upward sharply. He grimaced and jacked at it, slowly, loosely, allowing his balls to flap and tighten toward his crotch. He held the gun on me, and grinned at me, and winked. "I got thing," he gasped. "Can't help it. Got this thing."
He masturbated with obvious enjoyment, slowly, excruciatingly.
And Debbie sucked Solly's cock. Her lips mushed out around the heavy white protuberance, and he was jerking his ass at her, shoving at her. She gripped his penis tightly at the base, and mouthed the pecker for all she was worth.
"More," Solly groaned. "More, you fucking bitch. Suck it! Take it in! Lick it. Blow me, you whore!"
She took new effort because his fingers crimped wickedly at her scalp. She began to slurp and suck noisily now, and sauce trickled out of her mouth and dripped on Solly's yellow shoes. She was sucking his cock like a madwoman, now. You could hear her breathe and bubble, slavering around the gigantically fat prong.
"Ah, she's a sweet lil girlie an' she's sucking ol' Solly's big fat cock," Solly moaned. "Sweet lil bitchy girl sucking an' sucking, blowing away on my cockie cock. Suck it, you lil lovely cocksucker. Blow it for Solly. You love Solly's cock, don' you, you crazy lil bitching whore of a cocksucker?"
She nodded over his cock, sucking merrily.
She knew she didn't dare stop. She couldn't get her breath properly. She huffed and puffed and slavered blowing bubbles around the edges of her mouth.
I began to get a hard-on. I couldn't help it. I sat there and it just came up in jerks. She was a pretty girl, and very young, and the way she sucked that cock would give anybody a bone.
I looked at Winny and partially envied him. He was just starting to come. His back arched, and he worked his fist in a blur now. His cock swelled and he gasped and cursed and gism shot out of the red end, jerking in gobby spurts up into the air, and onto the ground. He whacked at his dong crazily, his eyes glazed with passion, until the shooting spurts quit, and a thick slimy drool throbbed out of the end, then there was another spurt of cream, and he stood there with his cock getting smaller, shriveling like a raisin in the sun. He still held the automatic on me, and clawed for a handkerchief. He smeared the juice around on his pecker until it was fairly dry, then balled the handkerchief, and tossed it to the ground.
"Try it sometime," he said, still breathing hard. "It's a go."
"I'll bet."
"Ain't you ever jacked off?"
I was regarding Debbie now, my own cock thundering in my pants.
Right then Solly began coming. He grunted loudly, and began wildly fucking Debbie's mouth, holding her head, yelling, "Suck it! Suck it, you bitch! Don't stop now!"
She sucked madly at his cock, and I could see him shoot into her mouth. He must have had a tremendous load, because even though she gulped and swallowed avidly, white juice streamed out of the comers of her lips and ran down her chewing chin. "Ahhhhhhhh! AHHHHH! Suck! ... Ahhhhhhhh!" He stood there. She stared up at him with his prick still in her mouth. He gave her a shove. She fell back on the ground, her mouth soaked with gism, some of it streaming from the right side of her red lips.
Solly sighed and grunted. He looked down at his cock He tucked it away without wiping it off, and looked at me.
"Shall we let her?" he said, cocking his head at Winny.
"Yeh. Tell her to go ahead."
"Then we'll do the rest, huh? She's got to have something." He turned to Debbie, who was crawling on her knees, spitting gism at the ground. "Deb, baby. Get over here and whack this asshole off. He's got a bone on. See it?"
She hesitated, and glanced at me.
Her mouth shone from Solly's come.
She was debating. Should she wallow in self-pity, and tell them she hated them, especially Solly, for making her suck his cock? Or should she forego that balanced pleasure, and think about something better? She looked at my crotch. My cock stood up, perking at my fly. I tried to cover it with my hand, but this did things to her, and she crawled toward me on her hands and knees.
"Yes," she said. She looked at the toad-like man. "Damn you, Solly!"
Solly chuckled and spat to one side.
Debbie sat down, and pulled up her skirt. She thumbed her red panties down over her thighs, and revealed her big, juicy cunt. It was a very hairy nest, and it was soaking wet, so she hadn't entirely detested the cocksucking. She rubbed her wet snatch with her luscious white fleshy thighs spread wide open, sitting there, and said, "Honey, I always let them feel my pussy and look at my legs and ass an' everything when I do it. Okay?"
"I'd just as soon...." I said.
"No." She wriggled closer, and her hand immediately went to my fly, unzipping it. She worked her curling fingers inside my pants, and grabbed my cock, and drew it out.
"God!" she gasped. "Look at it!"
"Jesus," Winny said.
"A rod," Solly agreed. "Can you get your hand around it, bitch?"
"Don't call me that. I done it for you, and you liked it. So call me nice."
Solly spat again.
She lolled beside me with her skirt up by her belly button. She opened her thighs, and took my hand, and laid it on her hairy twat.
-"Go ahead. Fingerfuck me."
It felt good, and what the hell could I do. I looked at Winny, and he still held the automatic pointed at me. He was interested in watching, you could tell.
She held my cock, with her tongue stuck out of the comer of her mouth, and began to slowly jack me off.
"Look," I said. "Let's screw. Wouldn't that be better?"
She shook her head and the blonde hair danced. "No. I got to jerk you off, honey. You'll like it."
"Not saying I won't like it."
"Then just pay attention, and feel me good. Watch my cunt, and it'll be real nice."
She had a nice, small, hot, smooth, girlish hand, and it did feel good. She knew how. She worked slowly, as if her hand were her mouth or her twat, and she began to moan softly to herself.
Then she said gently, with tremulous excitement, "I love to jerk off big cocks. It feels so good. I can't explain it, honey. I just love to feel them all satiny and smooth and stiff, and eager. Oh, it's so good. It just does things to me ... all over! Oh, Jesus Christ, you got a swell cock, baby. I love it! I adore your sweet pecker, Jesus, baby. Just to jerk them off, like this."
Her hand moved rhythmically up and down along my "sweet pecker" and it began to stir like hell inside me, with her thighs open, and my hand on her pussy.
"I knew a broad once," Winny said. "She liked to have you fuck her an piss inside her cunt. It drove her bananas. Just save up a big bladder full an' fuck her an' then piss like hell. She'd do anything then. Eat shit, anything. Her name was Moira. Moira Tennyson. She lived over on Crawford an' Division. "Piss in me,' she'd say. "Piss in me,' and if you pissed in her cunt, an' filled it good, she'd do anything. She had plenty moo. She'd spend it, too. Stinkin'. We went to the Palmer House, even. On her, see, you? An' when we left, I fucked her in the cab, see, an' I pissed in her good. We was going to a place on Clark, see, you? An' we got inside, an' he says, "Two?' An' I say, "Yeah,' an we start out and he looks at Moira, and it leaks out of her." He began to laugh. "All that piss o' mine leaks right out of her down her leg and onto the floor. A bucketful, f' Chrissakes. You shoulda'...."
"I'm coming," I said to Debbie, who was continuing to whack at my dong. I shoved my hips at my dong. Her tender little hand was flying on my cock.
Her eyebrows went up, and she dove for it. She jammed her lips over my cock and I shot in her mouth. Three heavy shots, it was. Then two more. And a heavy third. She gulped it down, then lifted her head and smiled at me, with gism running down her chin again.
Her eyes were wild with excitement and she said, "I came too. I had to taste it. See if it was different than Solly's. It was better and hotter." She turned to Solly and stuck her tongue out and said, "Blah!"
Winny came over and leaned down and slammed the automatic against the side of my head. It was a savage blow and it stunned me. Through a blinding red haze, I heard him laugh. I saw Debbie slipping her pants up over her hips, giggling. She kept on giggling and Winny looked at me through the haze. I had fallen over and all I could think was that my prick was out of my pants, and suppose somebody found me like this, dead, with my prick still hard, lying there. They say if you die with a hard-on, it stays hard, and the undertaker has a hell of a job. Even the formaldehyde doesn't take it down. Sometimes they have to cut it off. It would be hell, I kept thinking, to have them cut it off, and walk through the pearly gates without a cock, just a chopped off nub, there. Because you're naked when you go through the pearlies, and St. Peter could see everything.
"Hit him again!" Debbie said, still giggling.
"Now, Gargan, you," Winny said. Then he paused. I began to come around. He turned to Solly. "Take care of the Merc. Get the gas."
"Yeh," Solly said.
"Now, Gargan, you got your nuts off an' everything. So dig this. You're alive, at the moment. But that don't necessarily mean it'll last. So go back to Jax. That's the order from headquarters. To Jax, where the heart is, where the home is. Understand? Get the hell out of Gulfport, and keep your nose out of business that ain't yours. Just understand it. Clearly." He waved the gun and slammed it against my head again. Debbie squealed and giggled and I was in the red haze. It was really a purple haze this time, and my head hurt like blazes. It felt as if something had cracked loose inside. My ear ached. My teeth ached. My eyes ached. My nose was coming off.
He hit me again. "You hear me? You get the hell out!" he shouted. He shouted again, "Back to Jax!"
"Back to Jax!" Debbie yelled.
I heard a rumbling boom, and a vicious crackling, and bellowing.
"Come on," Solly yelled from somewhere. "Let's get the hell out of here!"
"Okay," Winny said. Then he kicked me in the gut. He aimed for my crotch, but missed. I doubled over, lying there on the ground and he let me have it two times that I counted across the back of the head with the steel of the automatic. Then I didn't feel anything else, and I came to, and saw the Merc gushing black smoke and bursting yellow fire, right close, and the heat fanned me, seething against my face, and there was no sign of them.
I must have been out cold for a few minutes. The car was burning wildly. It was totaled. I knew I had to get out of there. I thought of Tim. Why were they doing this? Who was doing it?
The heat from the burning car was wicked. I managed to crawl to my feet, and stood there weaving, still dizzy, and aching in the head something fierce.
My cock felt on fire.
It was still hanging out, and the blast from the heat of the fire was scalding my pecker. I ran crazily to one side, and out around the burning wreck.
I kept running, not knowing where I was going, and I saw the Ltd. For Christ's sake.
I ran to that, and the keys were in it.
I started it up, and gunned off down the dirt road. Why had they left the car? Sure. They had clouted the Ltd., and another man must have picked them up.
Then I heard the siren.
. I looked back and it was a police car, with the dome-light flashing cherry red. My head crackled with pain. I rammed the accelerator to the floor, and we shot out across country, me and the Ltd. I knew I had to make it fast. I had to duck them quickly. I was in no shape for a real chase with the cops.
I struck the main highway, and turned left straight through traffic, narrowly missing a lumbering, smoking semi. I careened wildly, the damned Ltd. nearly out of control, and turned off to the right, and saw an alley, and drove in there. I could still hear the god damned siren wailing in vicious screams, repeating itself: Woooo-woooo-yiiiii-yiiii-yiiiii....
There was a garage with the door open, right off the sandy alley. I swiveled in there with a smoking screech, and braked just in time.
I piled out and snatched the garage doors shut, and I heard the siren go by out on the street. He hadn't made the alley.
I stood there panting hard and hurting bad.
I slowly began to calm down.
The bastards had phoned the cops, and told them something was going on. They had left it up to me. They didn't give a damn.
I opened the garage doors a crack and stared at an old man's sick-looking sticky eye. I closed the doors again.
"What you doing in there?"
He was very old. I could tell that Shit.
I opened the doors again, and looked at him.
He stared at my fly.
"You in there playing with yourself, man? What's the matter with you people today? Youth. Youth," the old man said. "I spit on youth. Fuck youth. Jacking off in my garage."
I went on outside, putting my bent cock away as surreptitiously as possible, which wasn't very much so, because how could you hide it at a time like that.
"I wasn't jacking off in your fucking garage," I said.
He looked at me, mouthing his gums, his chin nearly meeting his beak. He was a grizzled old fart, in suspenders and overalls, with no shirt. His skinny, bone-wracked chest was purple and blotchy. His shoulders hunched like sticks. His eyes were loaded with phlegm. His hair stood on end. Sick dirty hair.
"I seen you," he said. "With your cock out. I caught you red-handed. Now, look here. I don't have a garage for jacking off; And what's that car doing there?"
"A present," I said.
I started walking away.
"Young shits are all the same," he called weakly, panting. "All jerk and no fuck. I used to fuck 'em, by George. You didn't catch me with my peter in my paw. Jack-off. That's what you are. A dirty jack-off!"
I ran down the alley toward the street.
"Jackin' off in my garage!" he screamed. "You young shits! That's what you are. Shits! You stink. You fucking jack-off. I been there an' back, by God, an' I never in all my born days seen the like of it-of today's young-today's youth!" He was running after me, weaving and stumbling. "Cock. Cock crazy. Cunt crazy! But all you do is jack off, you son of a bitch, wait'll I get my hands on you. You won't...."
I couldn't hear him any more, then.
I saw a yellow cab on the comer, hailed it, and he drove me to The Tall Palms.
Inside, I flopped on the bed and stared at the ceiling. There was a rap on the door. I lay there, covered with sweat, shaking all over, my head a blaze of pain. I was sick.
The door opened. It was that god damned Mona.
She stood there.
"Feel like it yet?" she asked gently.
She still wore the black shorts, and they were tighter than ever.
"Give me ten minutes," I said. "I want to catch my breath."
"Ten minutes?"
"Get the god damned hell out of here!"
"Okay. But, well ... if you change your mind?"
I turned and looked at her.
She saw something and went.
CHAPTER FIVE
I soaked in the shower, the water as steaming as I could stand it, and thought about Jinny Fuchs. I could not get her out of my mind. It was as if Marcie herself had returned to me, hot and willing.
The girl hitchhiker, Lori, had reminded me of Marcie. Now it was Jinny. It was as if I were entering a new phase of life.
The way she had sucked my cock.
Steadily soaping under the spouting water, my prick began to jerk erect. I wanted to see Jinny again. I wanted her lovely body pressed against me. I wanted to hear her wild, obscene cries of "Fuck me!"
Because it was as if Marcie and I were together again. Only Jinny wasn't Marcie. Marcie had been a bitch. Yes. But I had loved her. I was beginning to know now that I'd loved her more than I'd realized.
At the same time, with a certain grimness, I knew I did not want Marcie back.
Then why couldn't I rid myself of the near psychotic thought that Jinny was Marcie? Open, her cunt awash with love juice, pleading for my pecker....
I tried singing, dwelling on what had happened to me, with Winny and Solly and Debbie. I went carefully over my battered head, and though it was sore and aching, there were no bad breaks in the scalp. But as I soaped again, I knew I was going to get whoever was behind this. I was in it, now. Up to my neck. They were trying to tell me to leave things alone.
"Stay away from the Fuchs dame. Go back to Jax."
They meant what they said. But who was behind it?
Inside, I was wild with it.
I was going to find out. I had to find out.
Because I was in the middle. And Tim Fuchs was dead.
Why had he died?
If I'd only been able to see the near naked broad, and the guy who had run to the Cad from the house.
I had those four digits of the license number.
Nobody knew that.
Jinny. Could she know something she wasn't telling me?
In the bedroom, I stood by the bed, and poured brandy down my throat. My prick was still sticking out, engorged with blood, jerking in little bounces. When I thought of Jinny Fuchs, I pictured her snatch in my mind, hot and wet and curly, up between those; entrancing white-fleshed thighs. The way she moved her lovely ass. And that obscene mouth of hers, red-lipped, wanton.
I drank a lot of the brandy, thought about phoning Bucker and telling him what had happened, decided against it. He would only try to blame me.
By rights I should have rested. But the urgency inside me was too powerful for that. The brandy was doing its work.
I dressed, went across the street and ate two hamburgers with steaming coffee, then called a cab, and directed him to the nearest Hertz office.
I rented a Fury, checked the directory for Gregg Fuchs' glider factory, and drove over there fast. On the way I bought a pint of Old Granddad, and killed about half of it. I was mad as hell over what had happened, eager as the devil to get between Jinny's legs again. But I knew what I had to do.
It was called: GREGG'S GLIDERS, Inc.
Simplicity.
It was not simple. On the bay, glinting sandstone buildings, modem facades, colorful wind-fluttered banners. Two or three planes stood about on a tarmac. But everywhere were piled varicolored, graceful winged, long-fuselage gliders. Red. Yellow. Green. Gold. Black. Of different sizes and shapes, all embossed with the emblem of a sunburst: GREGG'S. There were hangers, where explosive torches seethed. Men scurried. Cranes swung gliders to stacks. Machines pounded. There was an odor of banana oil and fresh slain wood.
There were showrooms. An office. I entered.
The waiting room was hung with model gliders, maps. A door marked Gregg Fuchs, Pres, faced me.
A girl stood by a row of silver filing cabinets with a sheaf of papers. There was a silver desk and typewriter.
"Hi," the girl said.
She struck like heavy syrup. She wore bright green, a dress that clung to a ripe, lush body, topped with auburn hair, a thick mass. Her ass was revealed in delicious twin buns under the confines of a tight dress. Her tits swelled the thin cloth. What I could see of the fine lush curves of calf and thigh looked smooth and silky. When she moved, it was with the ass and the thighs, deliberately provocative. She sized me up with a long lingering look, and my dong lurched inside my pants. I'd seen more nice cunt since being in Gulfport. And this one was not the lesser.
"I'd like to see Mr. Fuchs."
"He's down by Hanger Number One, inspecting. Mr...."
"Gargan. Stretch Gargan."
"Ah," she said. She plopped the papers on top of a file and came over to me. I could smell her. She had a smooth, sexual, throaty voice.
"If you walk over there, you'll find him. He's the big guy, with the blond hair."
"What's your name?" I asked flatly.
"Betty Braham."
I put out my hand and said, "Nice. Real nice."
She took my hand, held on, looking into my eyes. She tongued her lower lip. The green dress was very tight across the front of her thighs, and it dipped in at her crotch, and you could just see the beginnings of a round, firm, swollen bun. Again my cock lurched, and I saw her checking my fly. She still held my hand and her fingers tightened.
"I've heard Mr. Fuchs mention you," she said.
"Fine."
She tried retrieving her hand, for proprieties' sake, but I held onto it. She flushed slightly. I still held her hand.
"Anything you want?" I asked her.
"What d'you mean?" She was bridling.
I pulled her slightly toward me. "You know," I said. "Just anything."
She heaved a deep breath and her tits swelled, and you could see the nipples. Her lower lip was slightly protruding. The lips parted. I thought how it would be to slide my cock between them. Would her lipstick come off on my whang? Would she like it? She had me going heavy.
I grinned at her, released her hand, turned and walked out the door, and down toward Hangar Number One.
I gripped my dong in my pocket, to keep it from leading the way.
I found Gregg Fuchs beside a freshly painted glider. Two men were fastening on the sunburst emblem.
"Gregg?"
He turned. He was a monster of a man. In all the time I'd known Tim, his brother, I had never met Gregg. He'd been away in South America, doing God only knew what. Then he was studying airplane design in California.
There was a chow dog beside him, with a red, glistening hard-on. The weapon looked wicked. The dog moved with stiff legs, as if its cock were painful. The reddish fur of the animal was thick, and its eyes danced.
Gregg Fuchs frowned. He waited for me to say something.
I sympathized with the dog.
I took my hand out of my pocket. My cock was still at half mast. I poked my hand out and said, "I'm Stretch Gargan."
Gregg Fuchs ignored my hand, and grinned, and nodded. "Well, well."
His voice was from the bottom of the barrel. He had shoulders like an ox, a chest like a bull's, legs straight from Charles Atlas. His hand was a ham. His face was cut from raw beef with a sharp knife, and this was topped with curly, blond hair. The eyes were jet black, glinting like glass, not revealing a thing.
"Figured you'd come here," he said. "That Sergeant Bucker was around. A real fart."
"I'm sorry about Tim," I said.
"Yeah."
"I've seen Jinny."
He eyed me that way. "She all right?"
"As well as expected." I couldn't very well tell him what Jinny had said, or how she had acted.
I looked down at the chow.
"That's Redfish," Gregg said. "You've noticed his condition?"
"Yeah."
"He's got the hots for my secretary, Betty Bra-ham. Wants to give her a tongue job. Chows are like that. He'd fuck her, if she'd let him. Hell, maybe she has and he just wants more. He's a horny bastard. I caught him fucking a knothole in a balsa plank this morning."
We stood there.
"I knew it would happen," he said. "I mean, I felt something would happen to Tim. He was pulling a nasty." He sighed and shook his head.
"What does that mean?"
"He's dead, now. It doesn't matter."
I heard myself speak loudly. "Everything matters."
"Okay. Tim stole my best gliders, sold 'em under price. Repaint jobs, change the company name. Reregister. You know. He did me dirt. He stole them an' sold em' an' made a pile. He cleared an easy three hundred thou."
"From here?"
His jaw muscles worked spasmodically. "Yeah. He took the best. Nothing penny ante about Tim. But-keep it all under your hat, Gargan."
"But ... how?...."
"One night watchman. An old buddy who drinks too much and sleeps a lot, too. I planned to hit Tim with it, but I put it off, hoping he'd change, and now it's too late. I don't know who he dealt with. But that kind are killers. I'm not even "tipping the insurance company to what I know."
"Are you certain Tim did this?"
"I saw him." Flatly. He cleared his throat. "An' don't soft soap me, Gargan. I knew he called you to come down here. Planning to ring you in on the deal. Close buddies. You may know more than I know."
"Get off that stuff."
"Look, Gargan. I'm hip."
The dog whined and licked at its long, gleaming, red pecker, then looked off toward the office.
"Anyway," Gregg said. "You didn't, get a chance to do anything. So we'll let it lay. And, now ... just get the hell out of here. Right?"
I looked at him.
"C'mon," he said. "Move ass."
He turned abruptly and walked off toward the office, with the dog moving stiff legged, cock crazy, beside him.
A bad dream.
I tried to think, and came up with nothing worthwhile.
I tried to picture Tim doing as Gregg had said. It didn't wash. Tim had been a straight guy. He couldn't have changed that much.
Or could he?
Had Jinny been the urge? Did she want rich things?
And Jinny had hated Tim. That was obvious.
I started toward the rented Fury. At the same time, I saw Betty Braham moving toward the gate to the parking area. Her hair gleamed, and those lush legs scissored, her ass bunching.
"Hello," she said mildly as I came up beside her. Again her face flushed. Jesus, what a fuck she would be. You could tell. She was ripe for it. Every step was a bridle, self-conscious as hell. I liked them that way, knowing they had a pussy between their legs. But it was her whole body bothered Betty Braham. She couldn't control it. It moved unbidden. And sex stared at you with every twist of her ass, every jiggle of her tits. It was burning in her eyes. Her red lips were wet with the furious hope inside her. I wanted to bite that lower lip, the way it stuck out.
My cock was dancing with joy, and I could feel the tumultuous heat in my loins. I wanted to shove it straight through that green dress, into her twat.
"Listen," I said. "Could you give me a ride back into town? I came in a cab, and-"
"Sure."
-We walked together.
"Going to lunch?" I asked her.
"Business."
Our hips touched. She was firm.
Her car was a Ford. She slid under the wheel, and I came across the seat, and got close to her, trying not to make it obvious.
She looked at me and tongued her lower lip, started the car, and we headed back into town.
"Betty?"
"Do I know you that well?"
"Let's make believe you do."
I waited. Nothing. She had little hands, firm and white, with red nails. I wondered if she knew I'd driven here in a rented car? I wondered if she cared.
"Like your job with Gregg?"
"Sure."
Her skirt was more than halfway up her thighs. The thighs were spread a little, necessarily, to operate the car. You could see the bare flesh, where her stockings ended. The rims of the stockings bit into the flesh, denting it. My cock ached.
"How about a drink?" I said.
"I'm very busy. Sorry."
"What's Gregg's night watchman's name?"
"Stan Gellers."
I got her to tell me where he lived. On a houseboat. I got the address.
"Betty?" I said.
"Yes."
She was driving steadily. We hit the main business district. She started to slow the car.
She looked at me. "This is as far as I go." She hit a parking space and took it fast.
I took her hand and put it on my cock, holding it there. Sometimes it's necessary to be abrupt. And sometimes it pays off. You can never really tell about a girl. They wear veils. Sometimes they're just itching to spread their legs. But something holds them back.
"Like it?" I said.
Her fingers tightened on my cock, and she looked straight at me. Jesus. She held on.
"That's what you do to me," I said.
She sucked a long breath and chewed that lower lip.
I reached around her neck, and pulled her to me. Our mouths met. She was tight lipped. But her hand was still on my cock. She didn't want to let go. I reached down and unzipped my pants, and grabbed my whang, and yanked it out.
"There," I said. "Take hold of it, Betty."
She stared at it, her eyes big and round and greenish. It was as if she were hypnotized.
"My God!" she said. She breathed in sharp little gusts.
I rammed my hand up between those lush white thighs, and touched her cunt. It was springy and damp under thin, taut panties. I wriggled my finger.
"My God," she said again. "You're a bull!"
"We can't sit here," I said. "Let's go someplace."
"You veritable bastard!"
"Betty ... please!...."
She had her door open. Then she was outside, and walking swiftly away. I sat there with my cock sticking out, hard as a rock. I watched her ass grind. She wasn't fooling me, she had really wanted it. And I was going to get in that lovely snatch. I knew it.
Then, calming down, I thought about her. There was something good about her. Something I hadn't seen in any girl for a long time. Maybe I hadn't been looking?
What was it about her that touched me?
I didn't know.
I tucked my cock away, zipped up, flagged a cab and returned to the glider factory and picked up my rented Fury.
I couldn't get Betty Braham off my mind.
She had gripped my prick plenty hard.
Jinny. Betty.
Marcie....
I killed the half pint of Old Granddad, bought another, and headed for Shore Acres, where Stan Gellers' houseboat was moored.
I was trying to find who had killed Tim Fuchs, and why. Intellectually, I told myself that's all it was.
Inside, where it counts, I knew there was more to it. I was in a sexual tangle. Marcie was in the middle of it.
I couldn't get her out of me. She had her fingers in my heart.
I concentrated on Jinny Fuchs' body.
It didn't do much good....
CHAPTER SIX
Stan Gellers' houseboat, Ecstasy, was moored at Slip 19, Tarpon Marina, Shore Acres. I had some difficulty even finding the marina, because weird dirt roads wound in and among thickly wooded pines and cypress. The area was well built up.
The mix-up between Jinny and Marcie was heavy on my mind. It was as if Jinny had become Marcie. I wondered if I was a little bananas. I couldn't get Jinny's cunt out of my mind, and how she had acted. The feel of her lush red lips on my cock, and the avid manner in which she had sucked me off. I'd been very much ready to fuck her, and that had had to be put off, too. Now it was a thorn in my brain. I wanted to get to her, and what made it all the more urgent was the fact that she waited for just that.
I tried forcing my mind around to Tim, and what I had learned so far. It amounted to nothing, really. Who could have wanted to kill him?
He must have suspected something was going to happen, and that was why he called on me. He had wanted my help.
Well, he was getting it. Albeit, late for him.
I knew I should go to Sergeant Bucker with the four numbers of the license I'd seen on the Caddy. I knew, too, that I wouldn't do that. Bucker was under my skin.
Marcie ... I thought of her right in the middle of thinking other things. What had she been to me? A dream. That's what it was, a dream. Hot and sexual in every respect, she had accommodated herself to my wishes for a time, then given her luscious body to all comers. But I couldn't get her eager eyes and lips out of my mind. And now she had come back, so to speak, in the form of Jinny.
Christ. I had to stop thinking like that. It was a touch of evil, actually, with paranoid frills at the edges. And maybe a touch of slap-happy schiz.
I caught sight of a sign from the comer of my eye, with a red arrow pointing to the right. TARPON MARINA.
I took the narrow macadam street, and in moments burst out into sunlight and water and boats of every description. Masts twinkled and gesticulated in the sunlight. Sails fluttered and folded like table napkins.
I found the correct slip gate, parked the car under a sandstone hood, built to shelter from the blaze of sunshine, and started along the pier.
There were several houseboats here.
I checked for number 19.
"Your ass gets right cuter every day," a man said. "You know how I admire your ass, Mitzie. Wiggle it for me, will ya, huh?"
It was Slip 19.
It was a large houseboat, with red curtains at the windows. Clutter covered the decks. Bottles, beer cans, two or three half eaten sandwiches, old newspapers, knotted rope, a rotted white sneaker, a tom pair of jeans.
"Ho, Ecstasy?" I called.
I had not had much education in maritime linguistics, but recalled an Errol Flynn picture where he had called, "Ho, the ship!" or something like it, and it seemed satisfactory and in proper form.
"What the shit is that?" a man said.
It was the same man who had commented on Mitzie's ass. Two jarring steps shook the houseboat from stem to stem. Then there was a squeal, and I heard running feet-light feet-feminine feet.
A young girl, she must have been fifteen at least, burst from a doorway, and ran halfway along the deck toward me.
I stood there.
She wore two yellow handkerchiefs. One bound around her hips, barely covering her twat, which bulged excruciatingly, and another partially obscuring large pink nipples on mammary glands that would have put a Jersey milk cow to shame. She had waist-length yellow hair, absolutely straight and shining, and a round, young, eager, plump-lipped, hot-eyed face that was disturbing as hell.
"It's a man!" she yelled.
"What the hell about it?" the guy in the houseboat said.
"I never seen him before," the girl said.
She checked my fly deliberately, and slapped her hands against plump white thighs. She moved toward me, and her hips swung from side to side, and I could imagine what this did to her ass.
Then she paused, and turned, and lifted a broom out of the way, bending way down, and tossed it over the side into the drink.
The view of her ass was something to behold. Now there are asses and asses, but this was a particularly terrific ass. The strip of yellow cloth just covered the crack. Not entirely, but some.
The buns were wicked.
She straightened, wriggled the bunched protuberance, then tinned and looked at me again. She blinked. She put her hands up and attempted to straighten the yellow bra. It only pulled down further over the bulging nipples. Her belly button was intriguing.
"Who're you?"
"I'm looking for Mr. Stan Gellers."
She turned. "Stan, get the fuck out here."
I stood there.
The girl licked her lips with a pink tongue.
She did not take her eyes off me now. She kept checking my fly, and to please her, but against my will, my cock began to inch erect. I cursed this action mentally, but there was nothing to do. It would not stop inching up, pressing diabolically against my pants.
Just then, a woman called from the houseboat next door. "Mitzie? What the hell you got there?"
"I dunno," Mitzie said. "He says he wants Stan. But Stan's drunk an' he won't come out to see who it is."
I turned and looked at this other woman.
She was heavier than Mitzie, but much the same age. It was her voice that sounded like a woman, rather than a girl. It was much too throaty for a young girl, and sounded incongruous, once you had a look at her.
Black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a heavy, sexual face, with dark eyes, regarded me steadily. She wore a red housecoat that hung open, revealing her tits, and one thigh. A quick look told you she was built more than satisfactorily. As she stared at me, she suddenly stepped from her houseboat over to the Ecstasy, and walked down the deck toward Mitzie. She patted Mitzie's arm, and went inside.
"That's Grace," Mitzie says. "She's fuck happy." She giggled and covered her mouth with one hand. Sometimes when they do that it's because they're self-conscious about sucking cocks. In other words, they have sucked a lot of cock, and imagine somebody can see a cock sticking out of their mouth, so they try to cover it. Entirely imaginary, of course, and not always true. But sometimes it is true. I always go by the chance guess.
She giggled again, covering her mouth with her hand. The eyes were yellowish, and both sly and somehow bold at the same time.
"Stan," Grace said inside the house. "Get the hell out there an' see what he wants."
"I'm warming some liver," Stan said.
"Fuck the god damned warm liver, and get out there."
"Awright."
The houseboat slapped gently among the waves, and Stan Gellers stuck his head out the door and looked past Mitzie. His gaze went to her ass, and he said, "I tol' you Mitzie. That ass of yours is too damned much." He eyed me. "What the shit you want?"
"Are you Stan Gellers?"
"Yeah." He was tall, gangly, red-faced, drunk. "May I come aboard?"
"Why the fuck not?" Bleared eyes squinted.
I came aboard, and stepped gingerly along the deck until Mitzie stood in front of me, all bare and hanging out everywhere. This close, it was much more pronounced.
"Never mind her," Stan said.
Mitzie made a face. She turned and brushed past Stan Gellers, into the houseboat. I followed her, because Gellers went inside too.
A mess. Two beds, clothes strewn everywhere, empty bottles, and half filled bottles. In the galley, there was a mild odor of liver from the stove. Dishes were stacked in the sink.
Gellers grunted and sat on the edge of a mussed bed. He looked at me. "What is it?"
"You work for Gregg Fuchs?"
Mitzie, who stood at the foot of the bed, began to giggle and cover her mouth. She edged closer to Stan. She said, "Fuchs ... Fuchs. That name always sends me."
"Shut up," Gellers said.
The other girl, Grace, stood in front of the sink, with her red housecoat open even more than before. I glimpsed the shadows of pubic hair.
Mitzie came over to me, and put her hand on my arm, and bumped me with her hip. She placed one hand on my thigh, and slid it around until her fingers were on my fly. She felt my cock. She began fiddling with it through the pants.
"She's like that," Gellers said. "Don't mind her, mister. What's your name?"
I told him.
The girl, Grace, came to me from the other side, and stared at Mitzie's hand which probed at my prick.
I looked at Gellers. I could tell now that the man was very drunk. His eyes were swimming in his head. He couldn't think right. He wore a T-shirt and dirty jeans.
"Now you take what happened," he said. "You jus' take it, and go wherever you like."
"What?"
"I don't really mean that," he said. "I mean, the way Gregg's brother died. It's hell. Pure unadulterated hell. That's all I can say. Never two brothers meant more to one another."
He was staring at Mitzie's ass as he spoke. Then he rubbed his crotch. I could see he had a hard-on. "Gregg said he was missing some gliders," I said. "Huh?"
I said nothing.
"Mitzie, you lil bitch. Get over here."
He leaned forward, clawing for her. Mitzie turned and looked at him, then at me. She went to him, and sat on the bed. He whispered something to her.
Mitzie looked at me, and slitted her eyes. Then she said, "Shit," and reached over and unzipped Gellers' fly. He heaved a great sigh, and sprawled on his back on the bed.
Mitzie took his cock out. It was extremely erect, pulsating. She began to jack his cock, slowly, rubbing the big raw purple head with her thumb. Then she giggled and reached down and unknotted the yellow handkerchief that covered her cunt, and flipped it to the floor. She looked straight at me as she did this. She spread her legs, and there was her big, curly-haired cunt.
"Suck it, Mitz," Gellers said.
Mitzie hunched over Gellers' crotch and poked his cock in her mouth, and began bobbing her head, sucking it. The white shaft vanished between lush red lips, and her cheeks hollowed with the strength of the blow job.
"Jesus," Grace said. "That does things to me." Well, it did things to me, too. All I could see was Mitzie's cunt and those young thighs spread wide apart, the curving buns of her ass. My cock did handsprings.
"Enough!" Gellers said. He was gasping and moaning, now.
Mitzie lifted her head. A string of love-sauce clung to lips and strung down to his palpitant rod. His rod jerked back and forth, glistening.
"Grade," he said, "come here, damn it."
Grace shed her red housecoat very rapidly, and ran jiggling over to the bed.
"Get on me," Gellers said.
"Oh, Stan! Oh, Stan!" Grace exclaimed. She knelt on the bed, and worked her ass in the air, and splayed one thigh across him. She reached between her thighs, and held his cock, aimed at her pussy. He arched his back, grunting, and she said, "Oh, Stan!" and his cock slurped into her cunt.
Her ass began to grind.
I stood there that way. I didn't know what the hell to make of it all, but the main thing was, it was happening.
Mitzie got up and rushed over to me.
"You want to fuck me?"
Well, now.
"C'mon," she said. "We'll use the other bed."
"But-"
"For hell's sake, Mister. Do you or don't you?"
"I do, as a matter-of-fact."
She grabbed my crotch, holding my cock through the pants, and led me over to the bed. She knelt down and unbuckled my pants, and pulled them down, then my shorts. My cock was jouncing like it was having a fit. She took hold of it and skinned it back, and kissed it with those lovely lips.
Then she squirmed up onto the bed.
I reached over and ripped the yellow bra off her tits.
"Oh, wow!" Gellers shouted. "Oh, Christ ... I'm coming. Sock it to me, you crazy bitch!"
"You come too soon, you bastard!" Grace grunted.
"I wanna suck your cock," Mitzie said.
"I thought so," I said.
"Huh?"
"I said, "I thought so.."
"Don't you like it?"
"Certainly I like it."
She wriggled down, and knelt between my thighs, and jerked at my standing prong. Her eyes were glazed with passion, and her lips hung open.
"Mitzie, baby," Grace said.
I turned my head, and Grace was coming across toward our bed. She was stroking her pussy. "I didn't come, yet. Jesus. I got to do something."
"Go fuck yourself," Gellers said.
He was walking toward the kitchen, with his pants strangling his ankles. His cock was long and still hard, dripping cunt juice.
"You're still hard, you bastard!" Grace said.
"Go fuck yourself," Gellers said drunkenly. He staggered and fell against the stove. "Warm liver. Warm liver is the thing. I been having a yearning."
The best idea was just to go along with the whole thing. There was no use disrupting motives, or trying to change minds. And for that matter, I didn't expect to get much information out of Stan Gellers. He was the wildest, drunken-est bastard I'd ever seen.
Muttering to himself, he stirred something in a pan with a long wooden spoon.
Mitzie mouthed my cock. She lipped it. She licked at the head, and then down the shaft. As she did this, she watched me with those yellowish eyes. It was eerie. Her tits hung down as she hunched there, licking at my knob. Then she took the entire head between her lips and rolled it juicily around. Then she just sucked it wetly into her mouth, and jammed her face down on my rod. I felt the back of her throat. She commenced sucking me off, slowly, carefully, obviously trying to give me every ounce of enjoyment she could. I lifted my hips and poked at her mouth.
Grace was standing beside the bed, rubbing her twat. "Jesus," she said. "I got to!"
She lurched onto the bed, and rolled her head between Mitzie's spread thighs. I saw her hands come up and snake around Mitzie's hips.
"Lick it, Gracie!" Mitzie said, lifting her head from my seething cock.
The old adage is, 'Take it when you can get it'. Don't question it.
"Oh, what a sweet cunny you've got," Grace said. She began eating Mitzie's pussy. I could hear her mouth sucking. Mitzie wriggled her hips.
Gellers turned and stared with the dripping spoon in his hand. "Christ almighty. She's eating cunt, now," he said. "What next!"
"Ahhhhhh, baby," Mitzie said, meanwhile jacking at my soaked pecker. Her hand slopped in the saliva.
Then she lowered her head, hunching her shoulders, and took my cock in her mouth again. She sucked it tightly, now. Using her tongue all the time, inside her mouth, swirling it around the sides and top of my steely prong. She shoved her tight-lipped mouth down and down, jacking at the base of my foam-covered crotch as she sucked. I reached down and took hold of her lovely head, and forced still more of my prick into her beautiful sucking mouth. With her left hand, she began wiggling my balls, flapping them, rubbing them, squeezing them gently.
She lifted her head. "I love to suck a cock," she said, admitting something that was at the very core of her being. She looked me straight in the eyes as she said this, and licked her lips. "Can you understand that?" She nodded. "I just love it, baby. And you've got the biggest god damned cock I ever sucked. It's gorgeous. I can't get enough of it. I'm going to blow you off so you'll never forget it. Ahhhhhhhhh. Jesus. Lick it, Gracie. Tongue the shit out of me. Eat my cunt! SUCK MY CUNT!"
She went down on me like it was the last cock of creation, and began sucking wildly. Her head bobbed. I gripped her head, my fingers tangled in that yellow hair, and fucked at her face. I was kind of crazy too, by now. I couldn't control how I felt. There was an odor of cunt in the room so thick you could cut it, and there was also an odor of liver.
I looked at Gellers.
He had his mouth open, his tongue out, and he was handling a dripping piece of liver. The blood dripped to the floor as he held it. He yearned over it, muttering to himself, dribbling saliva from his lower lip. His shoulders trembled, and then he took hold of his long, hard whang and wrapped the liver around it, and began jacking himself off in the warm meat. He held it with both hands, wrapped redly around his juicy pecker, and began to fuck his fists containing the liver. His cock would shoot out the end, seething and dripping with blood. He worked his hips mightily.
"Ah, you livery bitch," he cursed. "So warm an' juicy. Ahhhhh. Jesus Christ, fuck me, you bitch!"
He slowly worked his cock in and out in the mushy warm, wrapped liver. His rod poked out, then retreated in the thick, sloppy, juicy, dripping meat.
I had heard of such things, but never experienced them in any way. Now I was seeing it at first hand. They did jack off in warm liver. There was such a thing. And with Gellers, it was obviously a kind of obsession. He had been warming the god damned liver all the time, preparing for the feast, as it were.
Mitzie was making noises on my cock, now. She slurped and sucked and gurgled. Froth formed around her red lips as she drew the entire length of my trembling dong, and at the same time, she was urging her body back and downward against Grace's face.
I wished I could see Grace's mouth working on Mitzie's cunt, but I couldn't manage it. There were only the sounds, the fuck noises, the suck noises.
These sounds lifted into the confines of the houseboat now. Groans and sucks, and laps and slippery fucks.
Gellers was moaning and muttering over his liver. He worked his hips so his cock fucked the warm purplish red liver like a piston. Both of his dripping, blood-covered hands massaged his swollen peter, holding the meat tightly around it. He was ecstatic. His eyes were all gone with drunkenness and wild pleasure.
Then I had to tend to myself....
Mitzie could suck a cock, for damned certain. Her lovely head worked up and down over my crotch, and her lips mouthed my pecker beautifully. She sucked and blew and then I started to come.
My back arched against my will and my balls tingled. Then the sauce shot hosing from my dick into her pretty mouth. It gushed in jerking, heavy streams from my steely pecker, and blasted into her oral cavity.
She swallowed some of it, but some trickled out of her mouth. The gism curled down my shaft, and she tried to gobble it up. She was jacking at me at the same time. The sensations were fierce. I finally finished coming into her pretty mouth, and lay back, drawing deep breaths.
"You like it, baby?" she said, lifting her head.
Her mouth was plastered with come. It dripped from her chin. Her eyes were wild.
I scrambled out from under her, and stood by the bed, watching Grace tongue the girl's cunt. Mitzie moved her ass in circles, grinding her pussy at the other girl's face.
I found some paper napkins, and wiped my drenched rod, then put it away. It was still throbbing at half mast. I zipped up, and walked over by Stan Gellers.
He hunched above his meat-wrapped cock, working away for all he was worth.
"You want me ... to tell you ... things," he gasped, sweat streaming down his face and neck. The liver made juicy noises. "I ain't telling you nothing, you bas ... bastard!" He was coming. The spasm wrenched at his body, and his back arched, and his cock hammered sloshing through the liver. He jerked wildly. His face was in a tight, hurtful grimace. Spit dribbled from his mouth. His cock's flaming head burst from the liver and shot gobs of white gism across the room in a spurting arch. "Ahhhh! Ah! Uh! ARGH!"
He shuddered and stood there, still holding his dripping cock, with the liver wrapped around it. Then he just lifted his hands, and the sloppy liver dropped to his feet. His cock was all blood covered, and greasy looking.
He stared down at it, and shuddered again.
Then he looked at me.
"You best go now," he said. "You cracked your cookies, and that's all that matters. Mitzie's got to have a strange one, now and then. And I got to ... well, I just got to...."
"Yeah. Sure."
"Suck me!" Mitzie groaned.
"Tim's dead," Gellers said. "It ain't none of mine. Get that straight, pardner."
"Did you ever see Tim around the factory at night, when you were on duty?" I asked the crazy son of a bitch.
"No. Never. He's got a nice piece of ass at home. Why should he come to the factory at night. Now, so long, you."
I gave a sigh, and went outside.
The sun was still shining, and the day was fine. I could just barely believe what had happened. It was crazy. It was like a dream. I could still hear Mitzie and Grace moaning in there, though, and that proved it. It really had happened.
Warm liver. Good Lord.
I walked along the pier, and out toward the car.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My head was in worse shape than I had thought. The subdued aching that had been with me for some time, since Winny battered my skull with the .45, was increasing, and as I drove back toward town, the back of my neck shoved painful clenches into my shoulders. My vision was slightly blurred.
Through all of this, my uncontrollable dong was jerking at half mast. A semi-hard-on can sometimes be more troublesome than the complete erection. There is a meaty sense of heat, and disturbing urgency.
It was only a little after one o'clock in the afternoon, surprisingly enough, and my mind turned to Jinny, and her delicious twat. But even as I progressed in my attunement to her proclivities, her little contrivances, her murmurs that she wanted me to fuck her, I noticed a trembling in my hands. They were sweating on the wheel.
The muscles in my jaws and arms were taut, and this tightness seemed to make my head ache and pain even worse.
I spotted a phone booth, checked a doctor, and finally managed to get one on the horn that promised he would see me right away.
I drove over there. A neat-assed little nurse ushered me into his office. He was a funny character, with blossoms on his face. He squinted behind horn-rimmed glasses as I gave him the business about needing some codeine for pain. I told him I had chronic migraines, and with much business to take care of, needed immediate help.
"Codeine's the one thing that does the job," I told him, feeling guilty, and like a dope addict.
After some persuasion, he agreed, and gave me a prescription. On the way out, I patted the nurse's ass. It was solid and bouncy. She smiled, without alarm, and said, "You've got the hand for it, Mister Gargan."
"And you've got the tail for it," I said.
I went on out, and across the block to a drugstore, had a prescription filled, and swallowed four codeine tablets at the soda counter, washing them down with coke. The doctor had said one every four hours. I would take four every hour. I had a high threshold.
I ordered a ham sandwich, and coffee, and ate it. As I was finishing the coffee, the back of my skull seemed to lift, and a cool breeze blew inside. The pain vanished with exquisite brio.
I spun on the stool, found the phone booth, and checked for private investigators. There were several. I was getting no place on my own, and needed help.
Wallace Trimm. To Your Purpose. Discreet.
Anything They can do. I can do BETTER.
He seemed down my street.
His office was in the Addis Building. I took the side entrance, went up in the elevator to the fifth floor. I came along the hall, and found a red hand with the finger pointing at a door.
I went inside.
A bell bonged as I stepped into the waiting room. It was not a large agency, apparently. Just the one guy.
A skinny broad stepped into the waiting room, and said, "Yes?"
She had tight little knockers under a red sweater, thin legs, with the thrust of her cunt very obvious under a thin blue skirt, just below her rounded belly.
"Like to see Mr. Trimm."
She smiled. "Come in, then."
No shit about it. Come in.
I followed her grinding, neat little ass into another room. She pointed at a door, and said, "Through there."
I went "through there."
He was a roly-poly bird, wearing a shining silk suit with lapels that reached nearly to his shoulder joints. It was a black suit. He wore a black tie, and a yellow shirt. His chin sopped over the yellow collar. His mouth was small, and when he said, "What can it be?" his voice sounded as if he were spitting bee-bees. He slicked his already polished long hair back with his right hand, fat and pudgy like the rest of him.
I sat in the leather chair by the desk, and told him everything. He was that kind of person. He studied me all the time I was talking, clearing his throat repeatedly.
"Is that all?" he asked when I finished.
"Isn't it enough?"
"Are you fucking this Mrs. Fuchs?"
"What makes you ask that?"
"It just sort of adds up. And I saw your face when you spoke of Betty Braham. She's another. You fucking her, too?"
"Jesus," I said. "I didn't ask you for...."
"You get the entire oyster when I work," he said. "But I've got to know everything. Of course, if you don't want to tell me ... if it embarrasses you ... "Okay. So I laid Jinny Fuchs."
"Just that?"
I didn't want to tell him she had sucked my cock. It was somehow outr'. "Yeah," I said.
"And Miss Braham?"
"Not yet."
"But it's close?"
"Well, she ... I mean. Yeah. You might say that."
"And how about this Mitzie. The gal with this Stan Gellers. Did you fuck her?"
"Of course not."
She, too, had sucked me off.
He hemmed and hawed, and finally said, "All right. You've said it all. I'll get right on it. It sounds like something that might interest me. I'm a horny son of a bitch, truth to tell. Maybe I can knock off some strange new cunt, while I'm about it." He grunted and stood up. "I been fucking Mabel too much. I can feel it."
"Who's Mabel?"
"The girl who showed you in."
"Swivel ass," I said.
"Yes, indeed."
He wanted to know where I was staying, what kind of car I'd rented. Then he said, "Are you an addict?"
"Of course not. Why d'you? ..
"You're high, that's why."
I told him about the codeine.
In the waiting room, Mabel checked me over with beady eyes. I would have liked to take a crack at her, under different conditions. There was something hot as hell about her. Maybe it was that "fuck" was in her eyes. There is a lot to say for very skinny broads. Given the proper urges, they can make you come in your pants. Mabel was like that.
"I like you," I said.
"Call me, then."
"Maybe I will."
"We'll see."
Then Trimm came out, wearing a felt hat, and I nodded and went down to the car.
There had been something almost sad about Wallace Trimm. I didn't know exactly what it was. I guessed he did not have a great deal of business. On the other hand, there was something eager, and trustworthy about the man. I had more than sensed this. I felt better, with the thing lying in his fat lap. Then I realized absolutely nothing had been said about what I would owe the fellow.
Christ. He could take me to the cleaners. Maybe he had sized me up as a sucker.
Somehow I could not believe this.
I took two more codeine tablets, and headed for The Tall Palms. I needed a half hour's rest. I was stoned out of my mind. It had not occurred to me to ask how potent the codeine would be. I knew now that it was high powered. No wonder he'd said one every four hours. Well. The hell with it.
Even though things were in Trimm's pudgy hands, now, it did not mean I would call quits to seeing what I could discover.
I parked the car, and went into my room, and found the bed, somehow, and stretched out. I was floating. I thought, Perhaps I will float even better if I take two more, and wash it down with some brandy.
I took one more, remembering what somebody had said about mixing booze with drugs. It did the trick. Really. I flew around the room for a while, then settled on the bed again, and felt rather than heard the door open.
It was Mona. Mona of the Seven Moons.
"Hi, there?" she said.
It sounded like, "Hi-i-i-i-i-i-i-i, t-h-h-h-h-h-e-e-e-e-r-r-r-r-r-r." It dragged out into infinitudes of splendiferous delight. I rolled over on the bed, and thought about taking a crack at Mona, at long last, but my cock was numb. I reached down and unzipped my pants, and took out my cock, mumbling to myself, and felt of it.
"It's soft," I said.
"Oh, God," Mona said.
She was on the bed, then, sitting beside me. She reached over and felt of my whang.
"It is soft," she said. "Sa-y-y-y-y-y. What's the matter with you?"
"Not a thing," I heard myself say from the speaker for the sound system. "Not a single thing is the matter with your darling fucker."
I tried to see her. Actually all I could see at first was a blur, but I did know it was Mona. She was dressed in something soft and blueish.
"Are you Jinny?" I said, knowing very well she was Mona.
"No. You bastard, I'm Mona. Listen, I've got to have you, don't you understand? Listen, certain guys turn me on, and others turn me off. But you turn me on, and I've simply got to fuck you, you bastard."
"Get my cock up, then."
"Oh, Jesus."
She fell on me and shoved her open mouth over my cock, and began slurping at it. It was like a little finger without any bone. She slurped and kissed and licked at it, working her hand at it. Nothing happened. I groaned and felt very lustful. The room was a blue haze. I tried to see her. Her hair sprawled down around my crotch, and she wore this blue thing. It was open over her tits, and it was up to her waist. She was massaging her cuntal lips, while she tried to get me hard by sucking my cock.
"Oh, God," she said. "What is the matter with you? You're stoned, aren't you?"
"I dunno, darling. Prolly."
"Get your fucking cock up!"
"I'm trying."
Her thighs were spread wide open, and I concentrated on her pussy. It was beautiful. It grew straight across her pelvis, thick and curly. I reached for it, and got my finger entwined in the curly curls. I rubbed it. I fingered It. I got my finger in her slit, and fingerfucked her. She began to groan. I was groaning. She spread her thighs even further, and worked her ass like a machine. She was still bent over my cock, sucking to beat hell.
It was like my cock was in a cave. The sides of the cave did not touch my rod, and it just bathed in air, and absolutely nothing happened. There was no sensation at all. Pure numb. I looked down at my cock, lifting my head, and giggled. It was a mess.
"You are a son of a bitch!"
"Giving up?"
"I'll fuck you sometime, so help me."
"Where's the other one. The big blonde?"
"She's not here."--"I saw you sucking her cunt."
"She sucked mine."
"It was pretty hot stuff."
She moaned and groaned, and stood up beside the bed. She had apparently given up on my prick. So had I.
"Watch this," she said. "This'll get you up."
I watched her through the pleasant blur. I was hot as hell, but I could not get a hard-on. I wanted to screw the bitch. But how?
I thought of Jinny.
"You sine you're not Jinny?"
"Fuck you. I'm Mona."
She was undressing. I could see that. She got herself naked, except for sheer gray nylons, and stood there with her thighs wide open. She was caressing her thighs with both hands, running them up between her legs, to her snatch. She tickled the top of her snatch, and I concentrated, and it cleared a little. I was still as bad off as before, but I could at least see some.
Her tits stuck out, and the nipples were very hard, like the tips of little fingers. Christ, how I wanted to plow that piece of ass!
I couldn't even move, now. I just lay there like a zombie, and watched, with the lust driving all through me. In my head, that is. It wasn't in my cock. It didn't disturb the god damned prick at all. I looked at my prick. It lay there, like a sleeping chicken.
"Ahhhhhhh," Mona said.
She had dragged a chair up, and she sat back in the chair with her legs wide open, rubbing her tits and her belly, and her thighs. Her red lips drooped open, and they were wet, glistening. Her tits jiggled as she placed her hands under them, moving them about. I concentrated on her cunt.
Jesus, what a sweet cunt.
There she was. Absolutely naked, and looking like an oversexed whore, if there is such a thing. Her face was all scrunched up with passion, and her body was hot flame. I could tell. She slowly began to caress her cunt.
"Now, just watch," she said. "It'll bring you up. Jesus. I don't care! I don't care! I've got to ... I've got to'...."
She got up and ran across the room, and found my suitcase and began rummaging. She couldn't find what she wanted. She grabbed the brandy bottle, and returned to the chair and spread the thighs open again, moving her ass a little.
I could see the cuntal lips, all pink and gleaming, and the slot, and the buns of her lush ass. Her thighs sloped into her cunt beautifully. Her belly began to palpitate. She lay back in the chair that way, and brought the neck of the bottle up and stuck it slowly into her cunt.
"Ahhhhh," she whispered. "That feels so damned good."
"Bet it does," I said.
"Just like a boy's cock."
"Not like my cock, though," I told her. "I got nearly eight inches. And it's fat, too. Christ, you don't know what you're missing!"
"Damn you," she said. "You bastard!"
I watched the neck of the bottle slide into her juicy slot. The cuntal lips opened around it, lapping at the glass, sliding down it greasily. They opened still further, then. Then it was as if they were sucking at her emit. She moved the bottle very slowly, in and out, gasping and groaning.
"That's how I like to be fucked," she said. "Slowly. Ever so slowly, darling ... d'you dig?"
"Oh, Absolutely."
"Very slowly. In and out, and roundabout. Up and down, and in circles. Think you can do that when you get a hard-on?"
"You bet."
"Try!"
"I am."
"Use your hand."
"Don't believe in it," I lied. "I just want to watch you."
"Oh, you bastard."
"Fuck yourself good."
Her pussy gobbled more of the gleaming bottle, and the brandy sloshed around inside. She took both hands, and lifted her ass, and held the bottle between her palms. Then she rotated the bottle by rubbing her palms back and forth on the sides of the bottle, rolling it in her snatch. Sauce streamed out of her, dripping along the bottle. The pink lips sucked at the glass. She began to writhe and gasp.
"Ah, God," she groaned. "It's so fucking sweet."
"Maybe you like it better than a cock?"
"Don't say that."
"Well...!"
"Ahhhhh, fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck my cunt!"
She was working the bottle in and out again. The buns of her ass squinched up, surrounding the sides of the bottle, and the brandy slopped and sloshed. She was working it steadily now, back and forth, urging her ass forward on the chair. Her thighs lifted high, her feet dangling in the air. The flesh looked hot and steamy. Her mouth was wide open, panting and drooling, and her tits jounced and jiggled. The nipples looked red now, and very hard.
There was a sudden sucking noise. It went on and on. I had never heard anything so obscene in my life. It was a loud smacking.
She began to work in a mad frenzy, hunched over her drooling, flaming cunt, with her legs bent up and her lovely thighs stretched wide open. The smacking, sucking, slurping sounds of the bottle sliding in and out of her lush twat became still louder. A white foam was commencing to form around the neck of the bottle, and those red, luscious lips. Slime dripped from her overflowing twat to the floor, trickling along her ass buns.
"Ahhhh-h-hhh-hh she gasped.
I could barely hold my head up. I wanted a drink. I wanted a fuck. Jinny. Marcie!....
"A-r-r-gh!" she moaned. "FUCK ME! Ahhhhhhh!" She was coming like a banshee. She fucked her cunt like a wild woman with that brandy bottle. She came in a series of crazy knife-like jerks that threw her body to the floor, where she lay, legs apart, still fucking herself, cursing and spitting.
"Whyn't you?" I said. "I said, "Whyn't you...? '" I heard her cries, and I tried to sit up, knowing I could get a hard-on. But I didn't sit up. Something pink and heavy came over my head, and I swam down into a cloud at the bottom of the earth.
I was out cold.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I came awake less than an hour later, with a head like a balloon, and fear all through me. Sweat covered my body in a sheen, and my heart hammered wildly. It had been some kind of nightmare.
My cock was very hard now. I remembered Mona, and glanced around the room, half expecting her to be there, legs spread apart, massaging her pussy.
She was gone.
With the heat of the dream, whatever it had been, and memories of Mona with the brandy bottle between her legs, I was sexually aroused. It was more than mere arousal. I knew I had to have some ass.
At the same time, mixed in with it, were thoughts of Tim and his death. It was a sickening mixture.
I got up, and went to the shower. I was beginning to feel somewhat better. Those codeine tablets were powerful.
Toweled, I returned to the bedroom, and took another codeine, just to urge matters along. For some reason, the bottle of brandy, lying on the floor, did not tempt me.
. I dressed fresh, thinking about Bucker, and then about Wallace Trimm. Would Trimm be able to discover anything I'd somehow missed?
Outside, I glimpsed Mona, wearing yellow shorts, up by the office. I kept my gaze turned away, slid behind the wheel of the rented Fury, and took off for Jinny Fuchs' place.
Approaching her street, my pecker was tingling again. There was promise, I knew that. She had been eager to screw. I hoped she still was. The urgency was strong.
I thought I might question her a little more about Tim, too. There was the possibility that she knew something she didn't know she knew. Not realizing its importance, she might not discuss it. But I had no idea what this might be. It was nothing more than chance.
I parked the car, laid my prick up along my belly, under my pants, and started for the door.
"Hi."
She was standing there. She'd seen me come. "Jinny." I came fast on to the porch, and looked at her. "Thought we might take up where we left off." She didn't say anything. She just looked at me and tongued her lower lip. Her chestnut hair swarmed around her shoulders, sparkling and freshly brushed. Obviously partial to lace blouses, it was red this time, and she wore no bra. Her tits rose splendidly, pressing with the darker nipples rather obvious. Her waist seemed slimmer than ever, swelling out below with those perfect hips, encased in very tight light green shorts. The shorts bit into the tops of her thighs, and I could see the outline of her pussy, the twin buns, and the entrancing crack. Her belly rounded out slightly, intriguingly. She wore sandals. She looked hot, and, watching me, blew a tendril of hair from over her right eye.
Her glance flicked to my fly, and she still did not smile.
"I don't know whether I should let you in, Stretch."
"Why not?"
She shook her head.
"C'mon, for God's sake!"
"Have you evil designs?"
"Yes."
"Well, in that case...." She ushered me into the front room, and closed the door, and now she smiled, leaning against the door. She placed both hands on her thighs, and drew them up along the plump white flesh. "Come here," she said softly.
I went over to her, and held her waist. She leaned in so her hips pressed against me, and I could feel the round lush mound of her cunt.
I sucked a breath.
I said, "Wasn't Tim enough for you?"
"What d'you mean by that?"
"Just a question."
She thrust herself away, turned her back to me. Her shoulders were stiff. "He wasn't even fucking me," she said. "How d'you like that. It was just his hunting all the time, with bow and arrow. Hunting, hunting. It was all he thought of. I could shove my pussy right in his face, and he'd just turn his head."
She wheeled around and looked at me.
She said rapidly, "I'm a hot woman, sexually, Stretch. You know that. Well, Tim knew it, too. But it didn't seem to matter. He wouldn't fuck me, no matter what. I'd grab his damned cock, and he would just pull away. Nothing I did could entice him."
"How long had this been going on?"
"Months."
"You think he was worried about something?"
She drew a long breath and shook her head.
I told her about hiring Wallace Trimm. "He may be able to get to the bottom of this thing. I haven't made any headway."
"A detective?"
"Yes. And I think he's a good one."
"Oh. I hope he can help," she said. She looked at her feet, and shook her head again. "I can't help thinking bad things. But I don't really mean them, Stretch. I mean, I want Tim's killer found as much as you. I don't know. It's just..
"Just what?"
"Oh, come here!"
I took her by the waist again, and she opened her thighs against me, urging her crotch up to me.
I slid my hands down to her round, firm, pliant ass, pulling her tightly against me, and then I kissed her. It was hot, immediately. Her tongue came into my mouth, probing. It was a long, wet, sucking kiss.
She pulled her head away, whispered, "What d'you want t' do?"
My cock was stiff as steel, ramming against her twat.
"D'you want it in?"
She drew a quick breath, and hammered her cunt against me, writhing her thighs, and ass. I found the zipper on her shorts, and pulled it down. She wriggled and thumbed the shorts low on her thighs, then moved her legs so they dropped to the floor. She kicked them away. She wore no panties. Just that wonderful, hairy, chestnut-colored pussy. At the same time, her little hand went to my fly, and unzipped that.
"There," she said, as her fingers reached in and curled around my prong. "Feel good?"
"Yes."
She drew my rod out, and looked down at it, then she lowered her head quickly, and took it into her mouth. She shoved the big swollen purple head in, skinning it back as she did so. Her hot wet lips swarmed around my pecker, and she sucked it two or three times, then straightened and grinned at me, fingering her snatch.
"Well?"
I grabbed her and drew her over to the couch. I loosened my pants and shorts, and sat on the couch, and looked at her. She was peeling off the red blouse. Her fat tits swelled out nakedly. Her mouth was lewd now, twisted, and her eyes were touched with an obscene passion. There was more than just something about this one. She was as hot as they came.
I knew how much I wanted to fuck, now.
It was as if I'd been taking hormones. I hadn't felt quite like this in some time. I wanted to rape the bitch, fill her belly with my come.
I reached for her. She stuck her tongue out, and spread her thighs, and knelt across me on the couch.
"How you like it, huh?"
I lay back, gripping her waist, and stared at those lovely, plump thighs, and her hairy curly nest.
She reached down and her fingers wound around my palpitating rod. I wanted it in her cunt so bad, I was half mad with it. My breath burst in gusts, and so did hers.
"C'mon," I said quickly. "Aim it, Jinny!"
"You want me to suck you off again?"
"Let's screw!"
She was holding herself up on her round knees, her cunt poised just above my steely pecker. The tip of her pink tongue showed between her lips. She began to bite her tongue with very white, even, seed-like teeth. It sent me off, I tell you. I couldn't control myself.
I took her by the hips and lifted her up, and brought her straight down on my rod.
My cock slid into her oily twat, the pink lips engulfing it. Her ass came down fatly against my thighs, and my cock was clear up inside her.
"Ahhhhhhhh, Jesus," she said.
She threw her head back and just sat there, with the obvious ecstasy reaming her. She loved it, and so did I. Her twat was tight, and slippery and it hugged every inch of my reaming prick. It felt so good, I thought the back of my head was going to lift off.
We just sat that way, for a long moment.
Then she began slowly to move her ass in a tight circle, lifting her cunt slightly, then driving it down with a screwdriver-like motion.
Her juicy tits swung right in front of my eyes, and looking down between those marvelous thighs, I could see the perpendicular column of my white shaft easing up into Jinny's beautiful snatch. Her vagina was so accommodating, and so excruciatingly sweet. There was something about Jinny; something nasty, evil, obscene.
She was a cross between a filthy whore, and a very clean, sparkling, church-going, young, vital housewife.
There was another thing.
I had noticed in my many peregrinations that when something bad happened connected with a girl that you might get to screw, it enhanced the act. And I had read about death. When death came-death that was close to the woman, she oftentimes took her fury out with sex.
That's how it seemed.
She had sucked my cock, and I would never forget that-and how she was on me, straddling me with those beautiful thighs, her bare cunt enveloping my stiff prong.
And she loved it. She folded her head back, and moaned softly, and sucked at her lips, and stuck her tongue out, licking her lips, her mouth open, panting, making little throat noises. Her hand was down between us, trying to force more of my cock into her.
"Oh, God, baby! ... Stretch. It's so good!"
She wriggled her ass, lifting it, and moving it down tightly against me, grinding it against me. At the same time, I squeezed my rod up into her, pressing with my hips for all I was worth.
" It was getting to me plenty, too. I was nearly out of my head. I could only take so much of this teasing, then I'd have to really rape this bitch.
I wanted to fuck her forever.
"Let's do it dog style," she gasped. "Wait ... let me!..
It was just what I wanted. I wanted to really get at her, to plow her creamy slot.
She lifted herself off me, making a sexy moue, and rolled onto the couch, rubbing her twat.
I grabbed her and dragged her to the floor.
"Ahhh, Jesus," she said.
She got on her hands and knees, looking back at me over her shoulder. Her beautiful ass stuck up in the air, and I worked myself on my knees, close to her, so I could feel the warmth of those buns.
"Here," she gasped.
She reached down between those widely spread, plump, luscious thighs, and took hold of my cock, aiming it at her juicy slot.
I gripped her ass cheeks, and the bulbous head of my swollen dong slid into her crack. It was exquisite.
"Push, damn it!"
Her cunt was tight. I thrust it all the way into her, and she backed against me forcefully. I had it in to the very hilt. I could feel her throbbing womb, and the taut muscles of her tunnel squeezing around my pecker. It was a well-greased slot, and I loved it as I drew it out nearly to the lips, then plunged it in again, so I knelt close against her pulsating, joy-filled ass.
Her skin was like silk, and her cunt was like wet silk inside, surrounding my ramming prick. I could hear the sucking sounds, the slurps and the tight smacks as I fucked her cunt.
She let a loud cunt fart.
Every stroke brought a return bounce from her thrusting ass. Her head was down and she was moaning, as I screwed her delightfully hot pussy.
I was fucking Jinny ... it was all I could think. For a long time I had wanted to get in her. And now here we were. My rod was stiffer than it had ever felt before. Slime streamed down her thighs. It was love sauce, drooling from her twat.
I went wild with it.
I began to really fuck Jinny's cunt.
I arched my back and drove it into her luscious snatch with everything I had. I made myself into a fucking machine. I couldn't get enough of her. It swarmed redly, hotly in my head. My entire body was a dizzy wrack of screwing, and wanting more and more. I dug my fingers into her ass, and reached up forward, and grabbed her tits, like handles, and rammed my cock into her.
She was squealing for joy. It came from her throat, and her back whammed against me with every punishing stroke. My cock felt like a stallion's, like a crowbar as I fucked her.
I heard the door open, and I knew somebody was standing there, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was I was fucking Jinny, and I wanted to come, and then it started-and at the same time she yelled.
"I'M COMING! SOCK IT TO ME! CHRIST ALMIGHTY! Fuck me ... FUCK ME. Oh, BABY BABY BABY!"
I slammed my cock into her pussy.
The ream of the orgasm twisted my ass up tight, and clutched at my balls, then shot streaming, pouring through my cock, shooting load after spurting load into her cunt. The juice streamed out, and around my cock, and dribbled to the floor. She was bucking her ass for all she was worth.
I didn't think my cock would ever stop spurting gobs of gism into her. But it did. It jerked to a halt, and we eased back and forth, fucking slowly for the last ounce of pleasure. I wanted to slide it clear up into her throat, so she could suck on it backwards. "Christ almighty," a man said.
I turned with my cock still jerking in her sweet slot, and looked up at the fellow.
The door was open. He stood there with a hard-on that bounced up and down, sticking out of his fly. He was a tall, lanky bird, wearing black slacks, and a white shirt. His hair was long and a swarm of it dropped over one eye. His mouth was tight, and his dark blue eyes ogled us there on the floor.
I stared at him, wondering, What the hell?
"Stretch, meet my neighbor, Mr. Williams."
"Howdy; Mr. Williams," I said, slowly drawing my cock from Jinny's dripping, hot cunt.
"Ahhhhh, Jesus," he said.
His eyes were bugged in his head. He had taken his cock out, and I could tell he wanted to grab it and jack off, the way his hands trembled.
"What you want, Mr. Williams?"
"Ahhhhh," he said. "Jesus."
"This is Mr. Gargan," Jinny said. "We were just fucking, as you can see. You really shouldn't have walked in like that."
"I heard noises," Mr. Williams said, breathing hard. "Like a scream, like. I was out puttering in the beds. It sounded like you were hurting, Mrs. Fuchs."
"I was hurting," she said. She slowly stood up and looked at him. Then she went for her shorts, and began sliding them on her legs. "But it was nice hurting, if you know what I mean."
"Jesus," the man said.
I looked around, and saw my pants in a knot on the floor by the couch.
"I can't stand it," the man said. "I can't, I tell you." He whirled and ran out the door, leaving it open. I heard his thundering feet in the yard. He was running out there with his cock hanging from his open fly.
"That was nice," I said. "I mean Mr. Williams. Does he always walk in like that?"
"Sometimes," Jinny said. "We have a thing going, sort of."
"You mean?...."
"Well, yes. What the hell you want me to do. Just sit on it all the time. I told you about Tim."
I looked at her. I wanted her again, but I wasn't going to fuck her now. Mr. Williams had disturbed me.
I turned and headed for the bathroom. I washed my prick. It felt tender. Then I returned to the front room, and dressed.
Jinny stood there in her tight shorts and the red blouse hugging her tits. She watched me.
"I'm sorry about him," she said. "Sorry I didn't tell you before."
"How about a drink?"
She smiled and ran to fetch one. She went to the bar, and poured rapidly. She came back and handed me a strong one.
I sipped it, watching her over the rim of the glass.
"You were good," she said. "We'll have to do that again ... soon....real soon." She eyed my fly. My cock was at half mast again already. "D'you really have to go?"
I frowned, then wiped that off. What the hell did she mean? Did she mean she wanted to fuck again? Or was she trying to get rid of me. I couldn't tell.
I stood there and sipped my drink.
CHAPTER NINE
As I looked at Jinny and finished my drink, I remembered Marcie again. This was how she had acted at times, when she wanted to get out with some guy, keeping the action behind her eyes. Jinny and I had tom off a good piece, but ever since her neighbor, Mr. Williams, had come on the scene, she'd been somehow different. I couldn't put my finger on it. But there it was. The hell of it was, I was swimming in a sea of memory again. Marcie swam beside me. It was as if I had just finished fucking Marcie. And now she was going away again.
* * *
I set my glass down on an end table. My prong was receiving titillation from looking at Jinny, and recalling Marcie. At the same time, I felt puzzled and put off.
There was nothing I could do about that.
"I guess I'll be going," I said.
She frowned slightly, flapped her hand, but said nothing for a moment. Then she said, "I wish you could stay."
It was like a small piece of ice dropped down your neck. She was bridling, too. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to get rid of me.
"Okay, Jinny. I'll be off."
"Get by when you can, huh?"
"Sure."
I grinned and went to the door, wondering how Tim must have felt, knowing about Mr. Williams? Because Tim would have known. He had been wise in many ways.
I went on out, and the door closed.
When you lay a girl, you want a following business of niceties. I wasn't getting them.
I went down to the car, slid behind the wheel, and sat there. I lit a cigarette, and stared at the house. I seemed silent and somehow unreceptive. What had happened hadn't really happened. I hadn't really stuck my cock in her oozy twat, had I? She hadn't been kneeling on the living room floor, flaunting her bare ass, so I could drive it into her dog style.
Sure.
It hadn't happened, had it?
What do they do when they pull the shades.
I glanced at the walk, by the porch.
That's where he'd been lying, where he had fallen, with the knife in his back. I recalled how he had clawed for his back, trying to yank the knife out. It had been too late at that very moment, but he hadn't known it.
You never know it, when you're going to die.
And it's always too late then. Too late for tears. Too late for everything. All the plans you've made, all the thoughts that have been in your mind, waiting for an eager culmination. They're all gone, too. They die with you.
If the man who invented the wheel had died before he could realize his dream, we might still be pulling stone boats down the highway.
I shook my head, and started the engine.
I drove away from there.
My head was aching slightly, and I remembered I'd left the codeine tablets back at The Tall Palms.
I drove toward the motel, still swamped with pictures of Marcie in my mind, all mingled together with Jinny, and what she had done for me. It was strange, because there was no physical resemblance between them.
Why was I remembering Marcie?
Why was my cock so eager?
Why was I in the middle of this murder thing?
Bucker, I thought. The son of a bitch probably had some evil plan for me. He disliked anyone who was free.
I decided to take a couple of the codeine tablets, and maybe a good drink. Only not from the bottle Mona had fucked herself with.
I stopped at the liquor store, and picked up a fresh jug of Martell's, then drove over to the motel. I took the bottle, and walked to the door, unlocked it, thinking how I'd run downtown and check with Wallace Trimm, the private investigator. He would have trouble finding me, and there was the chance he had discovered something that might help.
I shoved the door open, and stood there.
I sucked a deep breath.
Wallace Trimm wouldn't be looking for me. He wouldn't be looking for anybody. And he would never tell what it was he might have found out about Tim's murder.
The fat detective lay sprawled face up on the bed.
He was naked. His eyes glared straight up at the ceiling, and his mouth was wide open.
I walked in and closed the door gently. I set the bottle down, and stepped closer to the bed, not because I wanted to, but because I was drawn.
He was pudgy, all right. But his fat belly would deflate, now. There were at least fifteen, maybe twenty, knife cuts in that belly. They were deep ones. They were puffed around the edges, purplish, and reddish, with not too much blood.
Then I saw his mouth. It seemed to be shining.
It was shining. A pool of blood filled the mouth to the edges of the lips, and it glistened warmly, wetly.
There were no other marks on the man.
He looked curiously obscene, lying there, and at the same time as vulnerable as a newborn baby.
He would never be vulnerable again.
His eyes were filmed, but he hadn't been killed too long ago.
I shivered, and a slow fear wormed its way into my heart and began eating away at the throbbing muscle.
I couldn't think. I couldn't do anything.
Then I went over and picked up the bottle, and stepped outside the motel room. I stood there with the door partially open, and uncapped the bottle, and took a lengthy swig.
"Hi."
I turned and stared at Mona. She had sneaked up on me, and she looked all gone, dizzy in the eyes. She wore yellow shorts, very tight on her plump thighs, and a white shirt that was open across part of her lush, swollen tits. Those boobs looked more impressive than ever.
"It's not that I want to haunt you," she said. "It's that I've got this thing about you. Maybe you can't understand...."
"I think I understand."
"No. You can't understand. Listen!" she came very close, and laid her thigh against me, and pummeled my arm with her fingers. "I want to fuck you. You can at least understand that, can't you? I've got this thing about you. I don't know what it is. I can't help myself, and I thought I may as well tell you. I've got to have you stick your cock in my cunt, understand? I can't stand it. The second I saw you, it was like that. Sex at first sight, see?"
"Go away."
"I won't go away. For God's sake, Mr. Gargan. Can't you take pity on a poor girl? I just want a fuck. I'm going to get it ... from you, if I die try-mg.
Death. I'd had too much death.
Go away.
"I won't go away." She clutched at my arm, and her yearning red mouth was very close. I looked into her eyes and saw sin. It lay hot and wriggling in those eyes. "I've got to fuck you, you bastard. Jesus!" She reached down and rubbed her pussy through the tight yellow shorts, spreading her thighs a little. Her ass worked. Then her hand drifted over and touched my cock, brushing against it. My cock began to lurch. I couldn't understand myself.
Tim was dead, murdered. I was the patsy for his death. I had just screwed his wife. Now Wallace Trimm was dead, murdered, and if I didn't do something, I'd be in the middle for that one, too. And now, here was this bitch, Mona, with lust scrawled all over her face and body, trying to make me.
And what happens-my cock jumps at the chance.
I was disgusted with myself.
"Go away, for Christ's sake!"
"I won't go away. You've got to listen, to understand...."
She stopped talking, because a police car drove up, braking beside the Fury. I stared at it. A man got out and came toward me in a stiff gray cloth suit. His face was as red and meaty as ever. It was Bucker.
"Hello, Gargan." He turned to Mona. "Get lost, whore."
"What d'you mean, calling me that!" She spat it at the sergeant. "You can't get away with that!"
He reached out and put his hand on her face, flatly, and gave her a brutal shove. She flayed backward, her arms milling, and sat down hard on the pavement with her legs wide open, her cunt hairs showing around her twat, because of the tightness of the shorts at the crotch.
"I spit on your kind," Bucker said nastily. "I spit, you bitch, dig it."
She scrambled to her knees, then Her feet, and hurried off in the direction of the office, her ass bunching.
"Now," Bucker said. "Let's go inside. I want a word with you."
I began to shake in my gut.
"What's wrong with right here?"
"Inside, Gargan!"
He shoved past me, and hunched at the door with his shoulder. He stood there, staring at Wallace Trimm on the bed.
I thought of running. It was all I could think.
I turned, taking a step toward the Fury....
Bucker grabbed my arm with a grip of steel. His fingers chewed the flesh and muscle. His face was a wild wrath of anger.
"Get the fuck in here!"
He yanked and I was off balance. I stumbled and staggered into the room, and the sergeant slammed the door viciously.
He was breathing fast and hard. He led me across the room harshly, and we stood by the bed and stared at Wallace Trimm's pudgy, mutilated body.
"Trimm," Bucker said. "He finally got his. He bought it. Sure as shit. I always knew some son of a bitch would end it for the poor shit." He wheeled on me. "Why'd you do it, Gargan?"
"Now, listen, Sergeant. I did not kill this man. He was helping me. I hired him to find what he could about Tim Fuchs' death. This afternoon, I hired him. My God, don't think like you're thinking. I didn't do it, I tell you." I swallowed whatever the hell was trying to choke me, and said, "I just got here a minute or two before you. I found him exactly like that ... just the way you see him. Jesus. Not a minute before...."
"Don't give me that shit!"
"It's the truth!"
His meaty hand came up and whapped me across the jaw. I staggered with it. His face was twisted with anger, the mouth all tom with it. His eyes were ablaze with inner fury.
"I know Trimm ... I knew him, baby. And he wouldn't step into something without he'd been lured. He wouldn't make a mistake. He would trust the guy who killed him. That's how he was. Careful. And thorough. So don't shit me, Gargan."
"Ah, you crud," I said. "It's all you can think. What the hell have you got it in for me for?"
"In for you?"
"Yeah. I come to this god damned town, and look what happens. Two men are murdered. My best friend, and a new business acquaintance. Somebody who was trying to help me-somebody who believed me. Now look. All you can think is how to pin it on me. Why? Tell me why?"
Bucker's face split in an evil grin. "Why? I'll tell you why. Because I know your kind, just like I know that whore's kind, out there in the yellow pants. All she thinks about is fucking her ass off. I know her, I tell you. And you? You're no fucking better, Gargan. You're a shithead. Dig it. You're a smart-ass that's what you are. You think you can get away with murder. Well, you can't. Not in my town. You kill Tim Fuchs, because you want his wife. You did it for a piece of ass, so don't shit me. I know you, Gargan. I know you." He stopped talking and just stared at me, breathing like a god damned steam engine. His face was paler than usual, and blotched with red. His eyes glistened like wet glass. "Then you hire Trimm. Sure, I believe you did hire him, else why would he be in on this vomit? You shit him along. And then you kill him, thinking it'll make a story that'll get me off your ass. But you didn't time things right, and...."
"Why the hell would I kill him in my own room?"
"Why? I'll tell you why. Because you reckoned it'd look good that way. That's why. You thought I'd maybe eat it up, and get a soft for you. Poor son of a bitch getting himself knifed right in your motel room. You probably had that bitch in the yellow pants in on it with you ... she'd do anything ... "She's not mixed up in this!"
"Then you admit it!"
I don't know what it was. Maybe it was just how he looked at me, or how he'd been talking to me. Maybe it was the way he gloated to himself. Maybe it was because he thought he was Christ Almighty. Maybe it was just because I could no longer stomach the lousy son of a bitch. He was too much, that's all.
I went crazy.
A red film came over my eyes, and I wigged.
I drew my arm back and slung the brandy bottle with all my might. If it had struck where I aimed, it would have been all over right then. It would have cracked his stupid skull.
It missed, because Bucker was quick as hell. He just lowered his head, like a bull, and I saw his fingers swipe at his jacket buttons, and ram for his holstered revolver.
I didn't wait. He would kill me in my tracks. I knew that, for sure. I dove at him, putting speed and leverage behind it, and struck him with' my head flat in the gut. His gut was hard. I ran with my feet pushing against the floor, and he sprawled backward across the bed, and onto Trimm's dead body.
He yelled something, and grabbed for my neck with one hand, still trying to get at his gun with the other.
"You bastard!" I shouted. "You won't listen!"
"Killer!" he yelled.
I drove my fist into his face and blood spurted from his nose, streaming down his mouth. His head was full of blood, I knew that now. But it didn't stop him. He came up, with me on top of him, thrusting with the muscled bulk of his body. He was as strong as they came, fashioned from cast iron.
His fists lashed out at me like pistons, and the savage thrust of his hard body pushed me back across the room. The rain of blows from his pummeling arms was diabolical. He had come from a withering school, there was no doubt about that.
But he didn't have frenzy on his side. He didn't have stark fear. He didn't have a kind of insanity.
I did....
I took every damned one of his barrage-like blows, and then I commenced working on him. I wanted to kill him. I knew that. He stood for everything I detested. I was like an animal inside, and it came out into my fisted fingers. I lashed at him, and bucked, and went wild. I kicked and dug and slammed and then I had him going backward, instead of me. There was a light in his eyes, now, a touch of fear. He knew what he was putting up with.
I got one on his jaw, and then two more, fast. I sank one into his middle when he wasn't ready, and he sagged around my fist.
Then I saw the bottle of brandy. It hadn't smashed, and I grabbed it up.
Right then Bucker came at me in a mad rush, head down, eyes crazy.
I was ready. I lifted the fucking jug, and brought it down straight against his skull. He buckled like a planked steer. He plowed into my ankles, and lay there with his head between my feet. He was out cold.
I checked his pulse, a little worried and harried. It was ragged and speedy, but I knew he'd pull through. I checked his head. He was bleeding some, but it was mostly a bad bruise. I opened his eyelids.
His eyes were blank, staring, but he was okay. No concussion.
I grabbed the bottle again, from where I'd dropped it after hitting him, and started for the door. Then I remembered the codeine. I might need it. No telling what would happen now.
I found it on the dresser, snatched it up, and ran outside. It was twilight now. The streetlights had just come on, and a slow wind was coming in off the Gulf, playing among the pines and the palms. Fronds that had drooped all day long were beginning to rustle.
I stood there a moment.
Then I saw Mona. She was starting toward me.
At the same time, the blonde manager ran past her, and came up to me.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing. What d'you mean?"
I hadn't closed the door to the room yet. I turned and reached for it, but she was quick. Her big ass bunched and she twisted into the room.
The scream was wild. It cut into the early evening, roofing the trees, palpitating and shrill.
Mona was up to me now. "What's happened?"
"Nothing."
"Will you fuck me?"
I turned and ran for die Fury. I slipped behind the wheel, and saw the blonde come out of the room, and run like hell for the office. To call the cops, I knew. She ran like a whore, with her legs all awash, her ass wild and rumpy.
Mona was staring at me.
"Please?" she mouthed the word.
I backed the car in a shower of gravel, and turned the wheel, and got out of there.
CHAPTER TEN
Once in the street, I drove slowly. There was no point attracting attention, and there was every reason to know the cops would have an alarm out for this car.
It felt as if a net were thrown above me, descending toward me slowly, enveloping every square inch of my progress. What the hell could I do.
Over on the sidewalk, two young girls paraded along in shorts crimped so tight over their ripe asses and cunts, they both walked with a kind of crotch-bound swivel. How god damned good it would be to be able to pick them up, without a thought about anything. With nothing like death on my mind.
But I couldn't.
Nevertheless, I watched them until I was past. They stood beneath a streetlamp, conversing, bridling in their youth and shapeliness. The long svelte thighs, the rich, determined boobs under taut sweaters, the fine turn of hip and plump, ripe ass. They would probably both get fucked tonight, and maybe they would even go down on some galoot who didn't deserve it, and suck cock. Wasting it in the bushes with a high school kid.
I had been trying to think of everything but what was at hand.
Where could I go? What should I do?
Bucker would come around, and there would be hell to pay. The blonde bitch of a manager at The Tall Palms had, without any doubt, called the cops, told them I'd killed somebody in my room.
And they would find Wallace Trimm.
Bucker would be certain I was guilty of everything, now. He'd had only the hesitance of slamming me in the clink before-now that would be gone.
I decided to drive past Jinny's. That would tell me if the police had been alerted yet. Because they would go to her place immediately, knowing I might show up there.
It was taking a chance, but I had to do it.
I drove over there, and came down the block behind her home. I parked the car, got out, and ran swiftly through the darkness between two houses, through a backyard, and stood for a second in the Fuchs' back entryway. There were no lights on in the house that I could see.
Maybe the cops hadn't shown yet.
Should I tell Jinny about the jam I was in? How it was worse than ever?
I remembered how she had acted before I left last time. I came along the side of the house, and saw a light. It was the bedroom.
The Venetian blinds weren't entirely drawn. I thrust past some bushes, and peeked in.
Well. Mr. Williams had a cock like a bull, and Jinny was sucking it for all she , was worth. Her gorgeous face, with the thick chestnut hair, bobbed over his crotch as he lay stretched naked on the bed. She was kneeling on the other side of him, naked, too, her tits swinging. She gripped his cock at the base, and jacked him off slowly as she blew him. It was an obscene sight, and rousing as hell. My pecker jounced and jerked in my pants, stiffening. I knew how that velvet mouth felt, wrapped around your cock.
Mr. Williams was enjoying it. He arched his back, fucking at her mouth, and she rammed his cock deeply into her luscious lips. Slaver ran down the sides of his white shaft, and her eyes were wide open, beseeching providence to give her more cock, more cock.
With one hand, she rubbed her twat, and then turned her ass around, and spread those beautiful thighs across Mr. Williams' face. I saw his tongue come out, and start lapping at her hairy cunt. They were doing a sweet, vigorous sixty-nine.
I couldn't stand it. My rod was playing hell, and my nuts itched with need. I wheeled at a sound from out front, a squeak of brakes. I could see clear to the street, and it was a police car.
I glanced in the window again. Jinny had heard the sound, too. She lifted her head, her mouth drip ping with come, her chin glistening. Then she leaped from the bed and ran for the door.
I didn't wait for anything else.
I got out of there, made the Fury, and blasted off for other points. My prick was erect, pressing against my fly, and I couldn't get it out of my head how eager Jinny had looked, with her red lips plunging on Mr. Williams' stiff, throbbing penis.
I had an idea, stopped at a phone booth, checked, and called Gregg Fuchs. I told him I was doing what I could to find out everything about Tina, and what he'd actually been doing. "He's not guilty of the things you say he is, Gregg. He's your brother. Certainly you want to find out the truth, right?"
"I know the truth. And from what I hear, you've got yourself into as big a jam as Tim was heading for. Where are you?"
I grinned to myself. "Never mind that."
There was every reason to believe now, that I couldn't really trust Gregg. He believed his brother was guilty of all the things he'd told me. He believed I was guilty, in some way.
"Just let it lay," he said.
"But we've got to straighten this thing out."
"It is straight. Where you calling from?"
That again. "I'd think you'd want to clear your brother. It's what I'm trying to do. Think, man, thinks You've got to be wrong about what you believe."
He laughed nastily. Shit. I hung up.
I turned the car, and headed for Gregg's glider factory. Stan Gellers was the night watchman, and I wanted a real discussion with the man. He might have seen something, and when I'd been with him this afternoon, he'd been in no mood to remember.
I recalled his stiff, turgid cock ramming the warm, bloody liver in his fists. And then there was that damned bitch, Mitzie....
I knew things were tightening for me. I had to act as fast as I could. There wasn't much time. I knew the police would nail me, sooner or later. By now they had checked the car out with Hertz, and any moment I might bump smack into a roving cruiser. Their radios would be working overtime.
I reached the glider factory, parked the car by a copse of cabbage palms, and stared at the big sign, brightened with neon. GREGG'S GLIDERS.
Shit. He had it made. And he didn't give a damn about his own brother.
I kept to the shadows, and went inside, prowled past the office, and started down toward the hangars.
"Gellers?" I called. "Stan Gellers?"
I came along by Hangar Number One. Gliders sat about, glinting against vagrant light, their wings like graceful birds'.
"Gellers?" I shouted.
"Just don't move," Gellers said. "Stand right where you are, and turn around real slow. Get it, fat cock?"
I turned slowly, as he'd said. He sounded as drunk as ever.
He stood there in the pale light that bounced off an eave, and he held a glittering revolver pointed straight at my gut.
"Put die gun away, Stan," I said. "All I want to do is talk with you."
"You come on my houseboat, and you fucked Mitzie. She sucked your cock for you. You seen me jack off in my liver. I can't have that."
"What the hell d'you mean? Have you gone righteous?"
He didn't say anything. I could just make out his eyes, and they were swimming as usual. But the gun was very steady in his big hand.
I sucked a breath. "I want to talk to you about Tim ... Gregg's brother."
"Piss on Tim," Gellers said. "He got his. He got what he deserved."
"How d'you know that?"
"I just know, that's all."
"Gregg said he stole gliders, and sold 'em someplace. How the hell did he steal 'em, fly 'em straight up in the middle of the night? How could he steal anything with you here?"
"Are you trying to make fun of me?"
I realized he was more stupid than I'd thought. "Mitzie sucked your bone," he said. "I can't kiss her now, or I'd be a cocksucker by proxy. I done washed her mouth out with lye soap, though. Maybe that'll fix it."
"Oh, Jesus," I said. I drew another long breath. "When were gliders stolen last, Gellers?"
"Four nights ago. I can't check this whole fucking yard, an' Gregg knows it. He knows I can't keep a eye on everything. It wasn't my fault."
"A wonder he didn't fire you."
Gellers laughed shortly. "He won't fire me."
"What you got on him?"
He stepped close and rammed the gun into my gut. "Knock that off," he said. "Don't play with me."
"Listen," I said. "I knew Tim well. He wouldn't do a thing like that."
"Your story," he said. "Tim did it. I know he done it. An' you're mixed up in it, too. Now, you jest walk slow-like to the office. I'm going to call the cops. They want you."
"Gellers, for Christ's sake!"
"Move that ass!"
I didn't wait. I grabbed his wrist, and twisted with all my might, and sank a fist into his gut, all at one time. I kneed him in the crotch, good.
"Cocksucker!" he howled. He doubled over with the ream of pain, and I dragged the gun from his hand. "You fucking cocksucker!" he screamed.
I caught hold of his head, and brought it down as I lifted my knee again. His face crunched against the bone, and he sprawled back and down flat against the tarmac.
He lay there in agony, bleeding from the mouth, his eyes all gone with it.
"She sucked your cock," he said, mumbling and spitting blood. "Now I can't kiss her on the mouth, damn you, you cocksucker! Can't kiss my lovely lil pretty lil fat ass girl. Mitzie, Mitzie, why did you suck his cock?"
"Don't try to follow me."
"Go ahead. Shoot me," he mumbled, sobbing a little now. "I ain't worth the fuss." He was much drunker than I had imagined. "Go ahead, plug me in the heart, you cocksucker. Take her away from me. She liked your god damned pecker, she did! She tol' me so. She said she wanted to suck you off again, suck on it all night long ... Jesus Christ, shoot me!" Geller was mildly mixed up.
I ran past the office, and over to the car. I threw the gun into the bushes, and drove off. Down the street, I spotted a phone booth. I had to call Jinny. She answered the phone.
"If the cops are there, pretend it's somebody else."
"All right."
"Where was Tim Sunday night ... four nights ago?"
"Hunting, dear. You know that. He's always hunting ... was, that is. Up in north Florida. With his trusty bows and arrows."
"Are they there?"
I heard a brusque voice say, "Who's that?"
Jinny did not speak.
"Who is it ... is it that damned Gargan?"
It was Bucker. He must have recovered.
"Okay, Jinny," I said. "I'm with it, and I'm trying every damned way possible to clear Tim's name, and get myself out of this. Bear up."
"Yes," she said. Then there was a rattle, and Bucker's voice came on, slamming loudly. "Gargan! Gargan? You tell me where you are, you bastard!"
I hung up.
There was one place I could go, and maybe take a breather. Betty Braham's. I checked her address in the directory, and walked out to the car.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
All I could think while driving over there, was how Gregg's secretary's ass had looked as she left me on the street earlier in the day. It seemed like weeks ago, so much had happened. What would she be doing? Would she welcome me? Could she be convinced about things? Would she help me?
I had the notion she would. I didn't know what told me she would listen to me, aid me in any way. It was just something I felt about Betty Braham.
And thinking of her, I remembered that lower lip of hers, how it protruded redly. It had done things to me when I'd first seen it, and now it was worse.
I suppose when there's a lot of action, with really very little hope, you lose a certain perspective. You want release in pleasure. Your mind bends in that direction. Toward women.
Well, she had seen my cock, stiff as hell.
I hope she didn't hold that against me. Most women did not.
I thought how it would be to slide my cock into her mouth, with that protruding red lower lip folding and slipping wetly along the shaft. Jesus.
I began to get a hard-on.
Marcie, I thought. If you could see me now.
Would thoughts of Marcie ever leave me? Would I ever be clear of her? She wasn't worth the hours of thinking I gave over to her. She had played me for a sucker from the first. She had been fucking and sucking every god damned cock she could get her hands on. And still I dreamed of her, daydreamed and night dreamed. Would it ever cease?
Betty Braham lived on the north side of town. I came along her street slowly, but because I had no flashlight, it was difficult spotting the house numbers. A strange eagerness was inside me now.
Betty Braham had made more of an impression than I'd thought. This close to seeing her, I was conscious of how she'd behaved, and of the things she said. She hadn't really revealed any animosity toward me. It had been more a kind of haphazard, girlish spite, when she walked away from the car after I showed her my cock.
The car's headlights flickered over a small sign staked in a broad lawn, beside a queen sago of enormous dimensions. It was the right number. This was her place.
I stopped the car, then thought better of it, and took it in the winding drive, and straight to the rear, by the garage. It wasn't likely that the police would spot it back here.
I got anxiously out of the car, took a cement walk back to the front.
Pink lighting gleamed between thin, gauzy drapes' at a large front window on a broad porch, or gallery. I tiptoed up onto the porch. There was every possibility that Betty lived with somebody, perhaps her mother, or father, or even her sister. I didn't want to take the chance of arousing them, too.
I hesitated by the door, looking at the gleaming white ivory buzzer. If I pushed the buzzer, somebody else might come to answer it. If there was somebody else, and Betty introduced me to them, they might have heard about me, and want to turn me over to the law.
It was a mild chance, and I didn't want to take it.
I stepped quietly along the porch to the picture window, where the pink light gleamed through the gauze draperies.
Just then I heard a peculiar whining sound. It was almost as if somebody was in pain. On the other hand, I couldn't quite place the sound. It was almost as if somebody might be weeping.
I leaned close to the window.
With my nose pressed against the glass, I could see through the gauze draperies. From the street, you couldn't possibly see through them, but this close it was different.
My hand immediately went to my fly, and rubbed my cock. I couldn't help it. It was what I saw. My prong began to jerk to attention, unbidden, and a salacious reaming of sensation touched my loins with new, bright heat.
Christ. The bitch! She was in there, all right. Betty Braham.
She was reclined on a deep chair, with her long, graceful, shapely legs out straight onto the colorful rug. She had her plump, beautifully fleshed thighs spread wide apart, her head thrown back, mouth open. I could just see her eyes. They were gone in her head with ecstasy.
Because between her thighs, burrowing his snout into her bare cunt, was Redfish, Gregg Fuchs' big red-furred chow dog.
From where I stood, I had a perfect view of the proceedings.
Redfish was having the time of his life.
My cock was firmly erect, now, jerking in my pants. I wanted to take it out, and jack off. The scene had me transfixed. I had never seen anything like it, and it did something to me, with its hedonistic proportions.
I was certain now that she was alone in the house. I kept staring at her, my cock turning handsprings.
I went to the door and pressed the ivory buzzer.
I was a bastard. I leaned on it, forcing the thing to ring like crazy. The sound reached me in beating waves, from inside the house.
I didn't stop. I didn't want her to come. I wanted my cock where the dog's tongue was.
Footsteps.
A hall light blinked on, and the door opened a crack, then all the way.
"Hi." I said.
She stood there. The light was behind her, but just the same I could see well enough. She had buttoned the front of her dress, and letting the skirt down had taken care of the rest. But I knew she was seething hot up between those wicked thighs.
She swallowed, and her eyes were still glazed. Her mouth was wet, and she licked her lips.
"What is it?" she asked quickly.
You're not getting rid of me now, I thought I said, "Paying you a visit, my dear. No. Actually, I need some help, Betty. You're the only person I can turn to."
I remembered my cock, then, but it was too late. It stuck out straight from my fly, and she glanced at it. I whipped my hand in my pocket and tried to hold it down, but it just made matters worse.
But something like eagerness had come across her face, and she was hesitating.
"May I come in? You could at least hear me out?
Huh?"
"Well...."
"Pretty please? I'm sorry about what happened in the car earlier."
"All right." She sucked a breath between her teeth, and stepped away from the door. She turned her back on me, and walked toward the living room entrance.
I eyed that marvelous full round ass, those legs. Ah, Jesus. She had me by the curlies.
I closed the door and drifted up behind her, and slid my hands around her waist. I knew she had been close to the throes of an orgasm. If I guessed correctly about her, she would have to go all the way, no matter what.
She was wringing her hands in front of her as I pulled her slowly back, rubbing her ass against my stiff erection. I knew she could feel it.
"What's it all about?" she asked huskily, standing perfectly straight, with my cock pressing between those glorious buns. The heat from her reached me.
I hauled my hands up, and caressed her tits through her dress.
"Tell me," she said, her voice very rusty with emotion. "What are you doing here?"
I talked into her hair and told her everything, about the cops, Wallace Trimm, how Gregg had acted, and how I had just come from seeing Stan Gellers.
"They're after me," I said. "I know that. But I didn't do anything. I've just been trying to find out the score about Tim. He was murdered, Betty ... and not by me, like they think. Will you let me stay here awhile?"
She did not speak.
I drew her still closer. I could hear her breathing now, and it was hot and gaspy. I moved my hands down her front, to her cunt, rubbing her bulging twat through her dress as I worked her ass against my rigid pecker. I worked at her cunt, and slowly lifted the front of her dress until it was up to her belly. I knew her cunt was bare. I touched it, the curly wet hairs, and just then Redfish ran whining into the hall from the other room. He still had a hard-on, the bastard, and was dripping on the floor.
He stared at us.
"What's the dog doing here?" I asked her, knowing oh, so well.
"I'm just...." she stopped and swallowed. "Oh, I'm just keeping him for Gregg. I often do."
"I see, honey."
She started to say something, but did not. Still she hadn't moved. I lowered the hand that was on her snatch, burrowing between her thighs until I found her hot, dripping, juicy cunt hole. I slipped a finger up there and wallowed it around.
She went crazy.
Her thighs opened with a pop, and she ground her ass back against me, muttering and moaning. "Oh, you bastard!" She panted and breathed hard. "Stick it in! Ahhhhh, you bastard! Ahhhhhh, Jesus. That ... that feels so good. Uh. Uh. Ugh!"
Then she twisted around in my arms, and held herself against me, kissing my mouth for all she was worth. Those luscious lips opened and spread across my own, and her tongue probed and she worked her cunt against my cock. At the same time, I felt her hand probing between us, and the fingers discovered the zipper.
It whizzzzzed open.
Clutching fingers wormed into my fly, and found my cock. They circled my dong, and held it in a tight, relentless grip.
She gave a shuddering sigh. She moaned. It was as if she'd discovered gold in her pet flower pot. "Ahhhh," she said. "Ahhhh. Ahhhh. Ahhhhhh."
"It's all right," I said. "I'll fuck you, Betty."
"Ahhhhh, Ahhhhh. Ahhhhh. Ahhhhhh."
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, oh, oh, oh."
"Are you coming?"
"No!"
"Then what's up?"
Her face was contorted. "I want it so bad, I can't stand it!"
She broke loose and ran across the room.
I watched her as she threw her clothes off. All but the dark nylon stockings and a garter belt of black silk. She stood there eyeing me. She looked like something out of hell, or out of paradise. She had the most gorgeous body I'd ever seen.
"Take your pants off," she ordered.
I unbuckled my belt, and dropped my pants, kicked them away.
"Now, your shorts."
I did that. My cock stood out straight and stiff, jerking and throbbing. She had skinned it back and the head was like an enormous plump plum, glistening and rock hard. I peeled off my shirt and threw it, then advanced on her.
"Ahhhhh!" she sang out. She dove at the couch, and sat there with her knees up, rubbing her flaming cunt. I'd never seen such an expression on a woman's face. She was tom with sex. She was wild, and savage, and didn't know what she was doing.
No telling how long she had been in here with the dog, working herself to some intense pitch that could only be imagined.
"Come on!" she shouted through clenched teeth.
T saw you with Redfish," I said. I couldn't help it.
I had to say it. "Through the window."
"Ahhhh, God. Who gives a damn. I'm so hot I'm on fire, I tell you."
I stepped over by her and she fell on my cock with both hands. Her open mouth went for it, and took it in, slurping wildly. I saw that protruding lower lip dip for my shaft, and I watched it bulge redly as she began sucking on my penis.
She had both hands wrapped around it, close to the base, against the pubic hairs. She worked her mouth slowly, grimly, with sexual determination along the length of the white, gleaming shaft, licking and lapping and sucking and blowing.
How she could blow cock.
Her eyes turned up in her head, watching me. It was as if she were praying. Her thick auburn hair swarmed around her shoulders, and fell low on her swollen tits. Her head bobbed over my crazy cock.
She mouthed it, and made deep throat noises as she sucked. She loved it, you could tell. She loved every hot satiny inch of it, and she wanted to get as much of it into her mouth as she possibly could. Ramming it in to her throat, she gagged slightly, but that did not stop her, or even slow down her intense gluttony. She wanted to eat all the erect cock she could get.
She took her mouth away, then, and dove for my balls. She sucked each one of them in turn, putting them into her mouth, and woofing around them, slavering and slobbering and moaning.
Then she wrapped her hands around my ass and drew me closer still toward her all engulfing red, ripe mouth, with that delicious, thought-inspiring lower lip. I watched. The lip seemed to jut even further, now, and she swarmed for my prong.
She inserted it into her mouth, between her ripe lips, and slowly, slowly sucked it as deep as she could.
I couldn't stand it. I grabbed her lovely head and began to ease my cock back and forth, fucking her glorious mouth.
"I woz sugging cog," she mouthed sloppily. "Ah wuv yo big cog you sombidge. I ... ah sug yo off you bazdard, cob id mah mouv ... ahhhh," she lifted her head, her lips shining with sauce, and said, "I love it, you bastard. You've got the sweetest cock I ever blew. Oh, baby, shove it in my mouth ... let me suck you off ... come a bucket, you bastard!"
Again she began sucking my cock. She did not work fast. She did it slowly, working her lips on my pecker, and licking it inside her mouth with her hot twinkling tongue. I slowly, just as slowly, fucked her face.
There is something about fucking a beautiful woman in the mouth. It gets to you. Many times you'll pass them on the street, or see them in a bar, or a supermarket, and there will be those lovely mouths. If you could only get them to blow your cock. But they never would, would they? Especially if they're very beautiful, like Betty Braham. Well, they might, if you could get them alone. But it's in your head that they wouldn't do that sort of thing.
So when you do get a chance to slip your prong between a beautiful woman's lips, then it's something. And it's even better if you help it along by actually fucking them in the mouth. You know then that they love it. You know they are as base, as lecherous, as lewd, as lascivious as you are-and, for Christ's sake, maybe even more so. They love cock. They love to suck cock. They dream of it. I've had them tell me so.
Betty Braham was no exception.
She was giving me the blow job of my young life.
I wanted it to go on forever. But it can't go on forever. God made us so we reach for ecstasy, and we attain it, and then blooey!
That's how it was with me right then.
Here was Betty Braham sucking my cock. It was exceptional, because she was so lovely. The imagination plays a large part. You look down and see those praying eyes watching you as your stiff penis travels in and out between the red gulping lips. And the protruding lower lip alone is enough to make you shoot your wad. You tense your ass, and you try to think about football games, boxing matches, automobile fenders, the deep blue sky and yellow roses-anything to keep from cracking your nuts, because you want this suck to go on till
THE END of time. You are one great big valise of joy, and it's all through you, but starting from everywhere to center down there around your cock, and in your cock. You know once it all gets there you're going to shoot a load that'll make an elephant bow with envy. You watch that jutting lower lip swipe at your pecker, and the upper lips roll back and forth, and the cheeks hollow with effort, and the hair is tumbled around your fingers and you're just fucking that glorious, beautiful, suddenly wanton face with everything you've got. You're moaning and slobbering a little yourself. Drool runs from her mouth and trickles down her chin, and drips to her cunt.
And you see her thighs spread wide open, and her hand is on her cunt, laving it to a froth, and her ass is thumping and you know you're going to screw her, too, and you don't want to come and you do want to come-if you could only come for all eternity.
And you groan and think, Suck it, baby-and then you bark it aloud: "Suck it, you crazy bitch! Don't stop, for Christ's sake! Suck it!" And you come;
Your shoulders shudder, and a spear of white lightning reams along your backbone, and down into your tense balls, and it flowers there, proliferating. And then it shoots as the orgasm screams wildly through you, and your cock pumps hot spurting gism into her sucking mouth, hosing it into her as she sucks and gulps and swallows, and nearly chokes.
Betty didn't stop sucking. She took every shot of love sauce that exploded from my powerful prick. I didn't think it would ever stop. But it did.
My cock was as hard and gleaming as before she'd begun. I was overcome with her. I wanted to fuck her. I had to fuck her. And she wanted it, too.
She took her mouth away, and fell sprawling back on the couch with her knees in the air. She spread them wide apart, and rubbed her cunt, then pointed at it.
I needed no further invitation. I dove between her thighs, and aimed my cock, and shoved it in to the hilt.
Our pubic hairs mingled as we ground our bellies together. I got my hands down on her plump ass, and lifted her to me, screwing my cock in so I felt her pulsating womb, and the tensing throbbing muscles of her inner vagina. What a tunnel she had. Tunnel of Love is right. It was more than that. It was a sucking mouth between her thighs.
"Ahhhh, fuck me," she moaned. "Ohhh, I can't bear it, Gargan. Fuck me god damned good ... promise, promise. I sucked you off ... I blew your cock, and it was good, but now I've got to come like you came. Make me come, Gargan, make me. Fuck me rood!"
She lifted her feet and wrapped her legs around my back, arching her back. Her heels dug into my ass. I held her up by the ass, and put the fucking blocks to her. I wanted to fuck her straight into the couch. I wanted to break her back, make her scream for it, make her know she was getting fucked-make her remember.
Her cunt was a beauty. It squeezed around my prick, but it was slippery as hell. The ridges inside brushed at the shaft, and the palpitant cunt lips nibbled at my. prong. I didn't screw her like a rabbit. I eased it all the way in, and shoved some more, and she ground her ass in a circle, and then I drew it out almost to the cuntal lips, and worked it against her. Then I fucked it into her again, as deep as I could gouge her.
I wanted to suck her tits, and fuck her at the same time. I arched my back, bending low, and reached one tit, and mouthed the hard nipple.
She squealed for joy. Her ass began to hammer at me, then. I increased my fuck speed, driving it into her like a piston. Sensations worked in my nuts and along the entire length of my prick. I'd never felt anything so exquisite as Betty Braham's cunt.
I wanted to eat her cunt and fuck it at the same time. I had to eat it. I couldn't help it. But I couldn't eat it and fuck her at the same time, and I wanted to fuck her, too. I didn't ever want to stop fucking this woman.
She looked at me with the adoring lechery of a woman given to whoredom. She was my whore, that's what she was. And what a whore! I didn't want anything else, ever. Ever.
Her now slick thighs worked against me, and her ass lifted and lifted. I held her ass up, but she pushed it up still further, grinding it against me, moaning and spluttering and squealing with what was inside her. She wanted more than she would ever get, and so did I. So does every man in the world, so does every woman. They can only get so much. Betty and I could only fuck to a standstill.
"I'm coming," she moaned, beginning to writhe worse than before. Then she screamed it, gagging and gulping and yelling at the ceiling'. "I'm cummg . ... I'm coming ... FUCK ME, JESUS! FUCK MY CUNT! Ahhhhhhhhhhh ... sh-i-i-i-t! ARRR-r-r-r-rgh! Oh, slam it! Ah, FUCK MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
She went into violent contortions, and a flood of love sauce surrounded my screwing prick, and my nuts flowered again, and I began hosing the sauce into her as I came too. It shot in vicious spurts, and I wanted to tear her apart, rape her, rip her up the middle, ram it out of her mouth, and toss it around the room.
We sagged against each other.
She thumbed my lip. "That was nice, baby."
"Yes."
"You like?"
"What the hell d'you think?"
"I think you like, yes."
I grinned at her. "Jesus, what a cunt you've got. And what a blow job that was!"
She sucked a breath between her teeth, her eyes dreamy with it. "It was soooooo good. What a cock you've got, Mister. I hope you never go away."
She began to look sad.
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
But tears were in her eyes. "Betty, tell me. What's the trouble?"
"It's just ... it's just that I keep remembering, is all."
"Remembering what?"
"Tim."
"Tim?"
She nodded. "Yes. It was Tim and me, all the time. See? He would say he was going on hunting trips, he'd tell her that, Jinny. And we'd be together. Just the two of us. He ... he ... could fuck, too."
"So," I said. "Sunday, he's supposed to have gone on a hunting trip Sunday, and of course it'll work out that he was robbing Gregg's gliders at the time." She shook her head. "He was with me. Right here. With his cock in me, see?"
"What made you so hot tonight?"
"It was that damned, bleeding dog. He's been after me, and after me, and I finally gave in, that's all. And I was ready to come, when the doorbell rang, and it was you. I was never so hot before in my life. But, Tim ... Tim is gone. He's dead. He was murdered."
"Who did it?"
"I don't know. I don't know.
"Who could've stolen Gregg's missing gliders?"
"I don't know. But not Tim ... not Tim. He could never have done that. He didn't really like his brother, but he respected him for the business he built up."
It was silent in the room. I lay there on top of her with my prick still in her, thinking. Could she and Tim have planned it together? Could he have somehow managed to steal gliders and sell them, planning to put the money away, somehow, so they would have enough loot for a getaway? Tim might do a thing like that for a woman. But what about Jinny?
I couldn't figure it.
"Then he really wasn't such a hot man with a bow and arrow?"
She laughed through her tears. "Hell," she said. "He could shoot, all right. But the bow and arrows always stood in the comer, over there. See, now?"
"The police should know about this whole thing," I said.
"Please, no."
"Are you afraid of Gregg?"
"No. Of course not."
"Listen, Betty. Will you drive me to Gregg's home, in your car? There's something I want to check."
"But ... he'll call the police, Gargan. He surely will. He doesn't like you. He thinks you were in on the robberies with Tim. Honest." She swallowed. "He told me that, after you came to the factory today. He said he would only turn you in if worse came to worst. See?"
"Will you drive me over there? I can't take my rented car, Betty. They're sure to have an alarm out for that. I wouldn't stand a chance."
"You mean it? Right now?"
"Right now."
We looked at each other. I had something in the back of my mind that would not quit gnawing.
"All right," she said. "Take that big fat forget-me-not of a cock out of my cunt, and we'll get dressed."
"You mean it?"
She grinned. "Yes. Damn you. It's little enough for what you did for me."
I eased my cock out of her cunt, and slid to my feet. She gave her pussy a pat, and grinned lewdly.
"Any time," she whispered. "Please remember that, Gargan."
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Shall we bring Redfish?" Betty asked.
I glanced at the chow, who stood in the hallway, licking his chops. The son of a pup had a hard-on again. What a god damned dog, he was. He was waiting for another chance to get his hot little tongue in Betty's snatch, and I wouldn't put it past the animal to throw a fuck into her if she let him. "You want him along?"
"Honey," she said. "If you hang around, I'll never again have dreams about doggies at night, all alone in bed. I'll never have to wonder again."
"You're just saying that," I told her. "He got to you, and you're satisfied for the nonce. But what if you get hot and he's there ... what then?"
She grinned and patted her ass. "It's up to you. Shall we bring him along?"
"Seriously, he might get in the way, Betty."
She turned to Redfish. She waved a finger. "You just sit, now ... sit!"
He sat and waited, but he began to whine.
"Let's go," I said.
We went out and she locked the door on the whining, and we went for her car. In moments, we were speeding down the street, and I was wondering if I would have any luck with what I thought, at Tim's brother's place.
"So it was you and Tim, eh?"
"Yes."
"Was it the real thing?"
She hesitated. Then she said, "It wasn't love, Gargan. It wasn't like ... like it might be between you and me. But it was good. And I had a certain soft feeling for Tim. He was one hell of a nice guy."
"I know that," I said.
"What's this about your being beat up?"
I told her extensively about Winny and Solly and the girl, Debbie. "They were hired by somebody, Betty. You can bet on that. They were called in from Chicago, probably to scare me once, then kill me. That's how I figure it. Whoever hired them killed Tim. I'm sure of that."
Her skirt was up to her waist, and her plump, nylon sheathed thighs were faintly separated. My dong began to harden again. I couldn't help it, and I marveled at it. But she had a hot snatch and I loved it. I kept recalling how she had sucked my cock. I'd never had it done so thoroughly, so perfectly. But I knew it was more than that. It was because I was drawn to her.
Then I remembered Jinny, and thinking of her, I thought of Marcie. Because Jinny was Marcie in my mind. It was all tangled up. I knew I was a mess, and I wondered if everything would ever straighten out again.
Because this Betty Braham somehow was getting to the bottom of things, as far as I was concerned. "You know where Gregg lives?" I asked.
"Sure. Been there. Right on the bay. Big dock, boats, everything. He has an island place, too ... out among the keys. Not far away. He takes girls there. I know about that."
"But not you?"
She glanced at me.
I said, "Well?"
"We never fucked. There was something about him that turned me off, Gargan. I don't know what. But that's how it is. He's always sniffing around, like Redfish, but I never gave him a tumble."
"Right in the same office and all?"
"Right."
"How much farther?"
"Just a little longer and we'll be there."
For the remainder of the time it took us to arrive at Gregg Fuchs' home. I stared at Betty's thighs, and felt my prick inch up and inch up. I knew I would have to fuck her again tonight, or I wouldn't be able to sleep.
Then I thought, Sleep. What makes you think you'll have a chance to sleep, Gargan. And even if you do have the chance, where the hell will it be.
"This Sergeant Bucker," Betty said. "Is he really as mean as all that?"
"He wants to nail me. He'd trump up anything, believe it."
"Here we are."
We swept through tall white gates, and I could smell a distinct odor of sulphur from the bay. The house itself rose against the paler sky, among huge oak trees covered with Spanish moss. The moss somehow made the scene dreary and sere. The house was enormous, with large lawns, gardens, shrubbery.
We approached a four car garage.
"He's not home," she said. "He lives here all alone, so he can make it with the girls, see? A sumptuous pad, believe it."
"How d'you know he's not here?"
"The car he uses mostly, the runabout ... a Type E Jag, is gone. And the lights are out at the house. He never leaves 'em on like other people, when he's out."
"That makes it perfect," I said.
"What you want to do?"
"Park the car."
She did, in a shadow from an oak. I got out, and she got out, and I started toward the garage. I looked over at her, and saw her ass move as she walked, and thought again about her lips on my cock.
"What're you trying to do, Gargan?"
"I want to have a look at the cars in that garage."
"It might be locked. All but the one."
But they weren't locked. As I threw the first door open, a light came on in the garage. Betty pressed against me with her plump thigh, and touched my cock through my pants, giggling nervously.
It was a Bentley. For God's sake. I stared at it, glinting in the yellow shadows. Money. The guy was loaded with it. I closed the door and moved down to the next opening, and opened that door.
My heart sank a little. I was staring at a beautiful '30s Cord, with a supercharger. The thing was done in gold leaf, for Christ's sake. What a jewel. I didn't want to stop looking, and once again Betty's hand found my cock through my pants, rubbing it.
"I'll rape you on the spot, you don't quit it," I told her.
"That's what I want, you idiot!"
I closed the door, grinning at her in the dim moonlight, and went to the last door. I opened it, and a yellow light came on, and I was staring at a big black Cadillac, with the wreath, and then I was staring at the license plate, and my heart leaped in my throat.
"This is it, Betty."
"What'd you mean "it'?"
"This is the car the man and woman ran for from Tim's house, the night he was murdered. The numbers. I memorized the last four. "3682.' That's it, I tell you. Is this Gregg's buggy?"
"Yes." She breathed it.
I turned on her and took her by the waist, grinning for all I was worth. "It's all I need, baby." She urged her cunt against my stiffening cock, and I pressed back. But there was no time for that now. "You've got to run to town and get the cops," I said. "You can phone if you like, from a booth. But go ... now!"
"But ... Gargan ... I'm all over hot!"
"That's for later."
"Are you certain about this?"
"Yes."
"But ... Gregg. It couldn't be Gregg."
"It's his car, and that's all I know. Now, get going, and ask for Sergeant Bucker. Tell him as levelly as you can. Coming from somebody else, I may stand a chance. He'll listen, because he wants me. But basically, he's an honest cop," I said, hoping I was right. "Okay. But keep that cock primed for me."
"You know it."
I slapped her on the luscious ass, and she toddled off toward her car.
I closed the garage door, and started for the rear of the big, dark house. Moonlight filtered thinly, silvery, upon the scene. Could I get inside?
The place fronted on the bay, so I was at the rear. I tried several windows, then went up on a small stoop, and tried another. It was open. I slammed it up silently, and moments later stood in a dark room. It smelled like a kitchen. I wished I had a flash, because I didn't want to turn any lights on. There was no telling who might spot them.
Moonlight washed through a window, and I saw some huge cupboards, and drawers. I rummaged through them, searching for the flashlight. Then my hand struck some candles. At the same instant, thinking I would have to be satisfied with candlelight, I found the flashlight. I flicked it on. It worked.
I roamed through the house. There were immense, over-furnished rooms. Wealth was everywhere. Cushions lay on the floor, on soggy rugs, and there were Chinese screens, and mirrors everywhere. It was a fuck palace.
I entered a large den and saw some photographs on the gleaming desk top. I went over there.
Jinny.
Jinny was in every photograph, and they were something. Fucking herself with a candle. Sucking the candle. Naked. Her gorgeous body bared to brilliant lighting. She had a big cock in her mouth, sucking merrily away, in one of them. But you couldn't tell who the man was. It only showed his bare body from the waist down. He was fingering her slot. In other photos she was perched on a chair, with her legs stretched wide apart, tongue out, lapping, as she screwed herself with a banana.
Somehow I knew it. I had it all.
It was Jinny whom I'd seen run nearly naked to the Cadillac with the man. And the man must have been Gregg. Christ, it was a natural. It was so obvious, now.
They had killed, or stabbed Tim, with the knife. Then they'd run out, because they saw me coming. Then he'd taken her around the block and let her run in the back way. She had screamed, grabbed that yellow wrap around, the Japanese kimono I recalled. She'd come out on the porch, and I'd thought she was inside all the time. What a thing. It was a beauty.
I went upstairs, then, and found the master bedroom. It was walled and ceilinged with mirrors. I checked around, found the closet in one of the mirrored walls, and opened the door. Stacked with valises.
I began opening them. They were empty. All but one. One of them was loaded to the edges with crisp new money. Green and beautiful.
I stood there and sighed. It was all so pat.
And I stood there like that and didn't hear a thing, and the room lights came on brightly, blinding me.
"Oh, Gargan!"
It was Betty.
She ran staggering into the room, wiping her mouth where it was marked with red.
"Hello, Gargan."
And that was Gregg Fuchs.
Betty sat on the edge of the bed, and Gregg stood in the doorway holding a medium-sized automatic. It looked deadly as hell. He was big and mean with those eyes, and the thick blond hair. The red face looked more like fresh hewn beef than ever.
He began laughing. He just stood there with the gun on me, and roared with it. He wore a yellow T-shirt, and I saw his belly suck in with the laughter.
Then it stopped, as if it were sliced with a knife.
"Drop the flash," he said.
I dropped it. It clanked on the floor. I looked at Betty. She sat there with her skirt up to her waist, and shook her head. I looked at Gregg again. He had a hard-on, and was passing his glance from me to Betty.
"She didn't get anywhere," he said. "Was she going for the police, chum? That it? I nailed her right at the entrance. She tried to lie to me, only it didn't wash."
"I checked the numbers on the Cadillac license plate," I told him. "I remembered them from the night I came, when you and Jinny ran out of the house."
"Very neat I'll bust a gut with it." He wandered over by Betty, still holding the gun steady, and stared down at her thighs. She moved the skirt to cover them. He grabbed it back, tore it from her waist. Her cunt was still bare from the fucking we'd had at her house. "Jesus," he said. "A real nice snatch."
"I'm right, aren't I?" I said.
"Yeh. You're right. A lot of good it'll do you." He left Betty's side, and went to a drawer in a cabinet. He came up with some rope, twirled it around, and walked toward me. "Turn around," he said gently.
I did as he asked.
"Now bring your hands back."
I did that.
He bound my wrists tight as hell behind my back. I knew I couldn't get loose. I immediately began trying to stretch the rope. It would not budge.
"Very neat," he muttered, mostly to himself. Then he walked over to Betty again, loose with the gun, now. It didn't matter now. And I knew he planned to kill me. There was no getting around that. He put his hand on Betty's face and thrust her so she lay on the bed, with her bare belly and thighs and cunt exposed.
"Know something, Betty, baby?" he said. "I always wanted to sink my cock in that uppity cunt of yours, you bitch. Never wanted me to, did you? Well, now it's different, because you'll never be telling anybody."
He unzipped his fly, leaned down a little, and fished his prick out. It was a bludgeon. It was hard as a rock, and he skinned it back so that flaming head stood out, glistening wet with lubricant. He stared at Betty, and grinned, and jacked it at her.
"I'm gonna stick this in your cunt, Betty, girl. How you like that?"
"No," Betty said. She tried to sit up, but he slapped her across the face and pushed her down again. He leaned and reamed a finger fatly in her cunt. He wriggled it, and laughed.
He was the biggest son of a bitch I'd ever seen, and all raw meat. His cock was a nasty looking implement, and he was going to rape her, and there wasn't a thing I'd be able to do about it.
"Well, Gregg ... trying to get yours?"
I whirled around toward the door. Jinny stood there, all dressed in white. She had the chow, Redfish, on a leash. She let the dog go, and he toddled over to where Betty lay on the bed, and licked her leg. His cock was hard again, and dripping.
"Where'd you get him?" Gregg asked.
"I picked him up at her place. She wasn't there, and so I came here, and what do I find."
"Jinny," I said. "Think of Tim ... remember him?"
"Fuck you," she said, and gave a Bronx cheer.
I heard footsteps. Gregg stiffened. The footsteps were running up the stairs, and then they came down the hall. Mona burst into the room. She eyed me, and ran at me.
"I followed you enough," she said. "I followed you all night. You're all having a fuck party, and I got the hots for you, you bastard. I'm gonna have you!" Gregg stepped over and lashed the gun across her shoulder. "Just who the fuck are you?"
Mona was drunk. She staggered around, and looked at Gregg, and then winked. "He's got a big fat cock. Wow."
I knew then that Mona had lost whatever marbles she had, and was stoned out of the remaining part of her mind. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
She started tearing her clothes off. There wasn't much to go. Just the yellow shorts, and a white blouse.
Gregg yelled it. "Fuck her, then ... Gargan! Fuck the crazy bitch, whoever she is! She wants a party. Well, by Christ, I'll give you all a party. Because I'm gonna screw Betty. An' by Christ, Betty's gonna tongue Jinny. Right, Jinny, baby?"
"Well, I hardly...."
"Get your ass over here," he said to her.
Mona was clutching at me.
"You try to untie him, honey," Gregg said softly. "And I'll shoot you right in the twat. Understand."
But Mona didn't even hear him. She wasn't conscious that I was tied up. She was only after one thing, and determination was in every move she made.
I saw Jinny lifting her skirts. She peeled her panties off, looking with a weird expression at Betty, who still lay on the bed. I saw her bare thighs, and her ass, and her juicy pussy.
I whispered fast to Mona, "Run for it, for God's sake. He'll kill you. Run while you can make it."
She silenced me with her lips. Her hot mouth engulfed mine, and I felt her tongue. She began pulling at me, and though I tried to stand up, I realized I may as well play along. I got on the floor, and she was over my fly, unzipping it with crazed fingers. She was trembling all over. Her naked body was something to see. There was a fine tune to it, and she kept rubbing her snatch.
"Now," Gregg said. "If anybody makes a run for the door while I'm screwing this bitch, I'll shoot him in the gut."
He meant it. He eyed everybody except Jinny, who now was kneeling on the bed, naked, her ass in the air.
Redfish saw her ass and plunged for it. He began licking her anus in great lollops.
"Gregg, Gregg," Betty called. "Do something. Don't let him...!"
He dove at her, got between her thighs, and rammed his cock into her cunt, holding the gun on the bed. I never saw such brutality. She screamed with pain, but he began raping the hell out of her, and his brutal cock worked in and out of her tight pussy.
Then I saw Jinny, Mona had my cock out now, and I lay back, watching Jinny. Mona got on top of me, and lowered her ass.
"Now, I've got you," she moaned, shuddering.
My cock slid into her pussy.
Jinny was just lowering her ass with her cunt over Betty's mouth.
"Lick me," Jinny said in a small voice. "C'mon, do like Gregg asks. Lick my cunny, you little bitch. That's what you're here for, right? Right, Gregg?"
"Yes."
He was plowing Betty with his turgid cock, and I could see that she couldn't help herself now. No matter what she thought, that big swollen pecker was feeling good in her twat, and I saw her ass lift to receive Gregg Fuchs' enlarged bone.
The dog, Redfish, with nowhere to put his prick, and nothing to lick, was running in circles. Then he spotted Gregg Fuchs' ass, and leaped to the bed. He began tonguing the man's asshole, the red flesh streaming with saliva.
"Ahhh, Christ," Gregg shouted. "Lick it, you bloody beast."
"Fuck me," Mona gasped. "C'mon, you bastard ... I can't stand it. You've got to fuck me good."
I had a hard-on, and it was in Mona's cunt. It might be the last fuck of my life. I knew that. So I decided to enjoy it.
But it was rough on my bound hands. I sat half up and she worked her ass. She was coming already, I could tell. She was on fire with it. She was so hot, she couldn't contain herself. She worked madly, drooling onto my chest, and her eyes were all shot to hell. She drove her ass at me like a battering ram, and I knew I wasn't going to get to enjoy this fuck. She suddenly gave a yell, and collapsed on me, gasping, wriggling her cunt up and down.
"You come?"
"Yes."
"Mona. You've got to run for it. This guy's insane. Can't you tell? You'll never get out of here, you don't make it now."
"What d'you mean."
I glanced over at Gregg. Redfish was tonguing his asshole, and Gregg was driving his cock into Betty. But then it was too late for everything, because Gregg was coming. You could see it, long and drawn out, and love sauce drooled from her cunt. She hadn't come, either. And she was licking Jinny's slit.
"You mean he isn't kidding?" Mona asked.
I sighed. "No. He's not kidding, damn it."
Fright began to show in her eyes. She was sobering a little. The orgasm had done that for her. She looked at Gregg, and came to her feet. Juice ran down the inside of her left thigh. She pawed for her shorts.
Gregg turned and stood up with the gun in his hand. He eyed Mona. "Going someplace?"
"Yes. I'm going home."
He laughed, throwing his head back. The laughter pulsed in his meaty throat. He tucked his cock away, and zipped up his pants.
"You're going nowhere, girlie. Who the hell are you, anyway?"
"I'm ... I'm just ... a...."
"A fart-faced whore. Right?"
"Don't you dare call me that."
She had her shorts on now.
"Don't, Mona," I said, reading her mind.
She held her shirt in one hand and ran for the bedroom door.
Gregg shot her in the ass. Then in the back, between the shoulder blades. She fell sprawling to the floor, gave a single moan, and shuddered to stillness.
Gregg wiped his forehead. "Get it over with, Jinny. We're taking a boat ride."
It was a blur for a time. I was thinking of poor Mona. All she had wanted was a fuck from me, and she'd gotten it, and now look.
Then Jinny was finishing over Betty's face. And Gregg picked Mona up like a bleeding sack of flour, and he handed the gun to Jinny, and we all went down and outside to a waiting cruiser.
Greg flopped Mona's body into the stem, off the dockside. And I was looking at Jinny, and thinking of Marcie.
Things were still a blur. I couldn't help it. I couldn't snap out of it. I was going to die, I knew that. And so was Betty Braham. She was weeping. I was conscious of her tears, and the small moans that came from her throat, and the way she kept wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She had sucked Jinny's cunt, and it was probably a first time. She hadn't liked it ... or she thought she hadn't.
Jinny was smiling through it all.
Into the boat, under the gun in Gregg's hand again. And out into the bay. Into the night. The moon came down and washed over the dead form of Mona, the girl who had wanted only to fuck.
In deep water, by the channel, near a marker, Gregg dumped Mona overboard. She sank with a swirl. He tossed her shirt after her. A tit bobbed to the surface, then vanished.
She was gone. Gone for good.
Gregg laughed.
I knew why he laughed. Everything was perfect for him. So they found bodies. Who would ever connect dead bodies with Gregg Fuchs?
"What about Winny and Solly and the girl?" I said, as he wheeled the tiller toward the dark shape of an island. The engines throbbed, and phosphorescent waves lapped rushing against the sides.
"I hired 'em," Gregg said. "Neat, eh? They would've killed you, anyway. But I'm saving them the job. And, in case you're going to ask about Wallace Trimm, Winny did that for me. They tailed you, and found you hired him ... and he was a snooping son of a bitch. So I had him put away. Now. Know what I'm going to do?"
"No. I couldn't guess."
"Well, we're going to my place on the island, and I'm going to kill you and Betty, see? I'm going to say you followed me for some damned reason, and then I'll say how you had a gun, and admitted killing Tim. For Jinny. That's why you did it. But I got the gun and killed you in a fight. And Betty was killed by a ricochet. Neat? Nobody'll ever question that."
I didn't say anything.
"What'll we do?" Betty asked. Her voice was cold.
"Nothing," I said.
Jinny was staging at Betty. "You sure can lick a cunt," she said. "I swear, I never had a cunt linked like you did it. With a little practice you could be really good."
Betty didn't even glance toward her.
We came in beside a long pier, then. A house loomed back on the shore, among tall Washingtonian palms. The palms looked good against the sky, but I knew it was an evil night. A bird called from somewhere on the island, and then a mullet jumped.
"Get up there, you!"
He held the gun on us, and herded us off the pier to the shore. We stood there. "I think we'll do it right here." He eyed Jinny. "Okay with you?"
"Sure, Gregg, honey. It's perfect."
But I saw something in her face I couldn't figure. I was working hard at the ropes on my wrists now, and they were nearly loose. My wrists were covered with blood, and this made the rope stickier, but it made it slippery, too. I was managing to squeeze them off over my hands.
"But there's one thing I haven't told you," Gregg said. "First. I stole my own gliders an' sold 'em. Just so you'll know. And Jinny and I have that money. Right, baby?"
"Right, Gregg," Jinny said lightly.
"Well, here's something you don't know, sweetheart. You're going with them. Get the fact, bitch. I couldn't swing it with you. I'll have the money. The business has gone on the rocks. But I'm loaded. I want to be alone, and there're plenty broads out there, who aren't fucked out from somebody else's scratching. That means you, sweetheart."
"What d'you mean, Gregg?"
She looked at him with her mouth open. She stood there in the white dress, and the moonlight fell on her.
She said, "I killed Tim for you ... I stabbed him. I've gone to hell for you. I've done everything for you. What do you mean?"
"I'm going to plug you, just like the rest. That's what I mean."
She just stood there, her mouth sagging. There was that beautiful body under that dress, but it suddenly didn't mean anything to Gregg. He didn't want her ass any more. Because that's what she had bought him with. I knew that.
The ropes came loose, and I went at him head down, with all my might. I grabbed his wrist, and thrust it out of the way, and slugged him on the jaw. It was a powerful blow and a perfect one. He sank down to the wet earth, and lay there, moaning. Betty gave a yell.
I looked at Jinny. She was standing in the same spot, but she was changed now. She held a gun. She began tearing at her clothes, ripping them from her body, until she stood there naked in the moonlight, with her big, swollen tits sticking out, and her cunt revealed, a thick, hairy mass. She spread her legs, and rubbed her cunt.
"This is what I like," she said. I knew she was crazy, then. I should have seen it in her before. Mona had thought a lot about her pussy, but it had been a healthy lust. Jinny's was wrong, somehow. She had slipped gears, now. She had been put down by the one man she'd counted on. Betrayed. Hell had no fury like a woman scorned. And even I'd know enough not to scorn Jinny Fuchs.
"What are you going to do?" I asked, steadily, moving toward her.
"Just stand still," she said, continuing to rub her cunt. Her quick eyes flashed back and forth between Betty and me. "I always carry a gun," she said. "You can never tell ... you can never count on anything." She laughed. It spouted from her lips and she whaled away at her cunt with her other hand. Then she began yelling it at the sky. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all! I know where the money is, and I'll have it for myself. All of it." She laughed again and it was wild sick laughter. "And I'll kill him first, and then, you, Stretch ... and then Betty can tongue me off again, because I admire that sweet little tongue. And then ... then I'll kill her!"
She fired at Gregg. But at the same time, there was answering fire.
Gregg had come to. He was sitting half up. Slugs took him in the chest. He kept the automatic up, firing at Jinny. I looked at Jinny.
He had aimed carefully. He had riddled her cunt. Blood gushed from between her legs. It was her last, her final, orgasm. She spouted blood from her lovely twat, and sank with a groan to the ground. She was dead.
I looked at Gregg. I saw his last shudder, and he, too, was gone.
I went over and stood above Jinny. I felt a sudden sense of freedom, and didn't know what it was. Then I knew. It was Marcie. Marcie was gone from me. I could think her name, and there was no pull, no torture. When Jinny died, Marcie died with her.
I wouldn't try to figure it out.
It happened.
That was enough for me.
"Gargan?"
I turned slowly and looked at Betty Braham.
She walked toward me.
"We'd better get back to town, and tell the police," she said. "Don't you think?"
"Yes."
"What's the matter, Gargan?"
"I just lost somebody I've been trying to lose for a long, long time."
"You mean ... her?"
"No. No, Betty ... not her. Somebody else. I'll tell it all to you one day."
"Shall we go?"
"Are you all right?"
She snuggled an arm around my waist, and bumped me with her hip. "I'm fine," she said.
We walked toward the pier. I, too, was fine. I let my hand lay against Betty's ass, and she let it lay there, too. It was a good feeling. I knew where I would be later tonight.
I had lost and I had gained.
I had lost Marcie-and gained my life.
There would be new days, now, with hope at the helm.
"Think we'll make it to the mainland?" I asked her.
