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Loser's Wife, The (MF, cuckold, wife)
by Anonymous Author
Originally published by TheEditor
Chapter 1
The lights in the cabaret lounge brightened again and the spots
centered on the casual figure on the stage. As Johnny Dutton finished
another number the applause was spontaneous and enthusiastic.
The lounge was almost completely filled, though more with middle-aged
women than others and the young singer had a way of capturing the audience
completely. His delivery was ultra-casual and the smooth richness of his
voice was a portent of the great star many figured him soon to become.
As the orchestration behind him launched into a Bossa Nova medley,
the man singing in the center of the stage had the total attention of the
women in the audience, but many of the men had settled on a different
attraction.
To these men the stunningly beautiful girl seated alone at a small
table held more fascination for them than any male singer could ever have.
Even in the dimness of the showroom it was evident that the leggy
brunette was extraordinarily lovely. Her glossy ebony hair was very long
and draped casually over one shoulder, so black and glistening that it
seemed to be a deep royal purple. The darkness of her hair was strikingly
contrasted with the china white of her skin and the light grey-blue eyes.
She sat oblivious to the stares of the men in the audience, intent
only on the singer, and as he finished his song her applause was even more
enthusiastic than any other.
Johnny, if he hadn't been blinded by the spotlights and could have
seen the distraction the girl was causing, might have been filled with a
combination of annoyance and pride. He wouldn't have liked the influence
she had on his audience, he wanted them to see and hear no one but him---
but the girl was Laura, his wife. And there were times when he wanted to
stand and shout, "Look, you unfortunate people! Look at what's mine, all
mine!"
At the small table the same desire was passing through the girl's
proud admiring thoughts.
He's so wonderful, she thought silently, so talented and handsome.
Oh, Johnny, they all love you so much, but no one can ever love you the
way I do! No one can ever want you the way I do, from the moment I first
saw you! . . .
She was jolted suddenly from her silent reverie by the scrape of a
chair that was moved out from her table. She looked up into the oily
slickness of the man's face who was joining her without invitation and
felt a chill of revulsion pass quickly through her.
Deke Vito! Johnny's boss, and the man who controlled the hiring of
all the talent that was booked into the cabaret shows in the three major
clubs in downtown Reno.
Anyone seated nearby would immediately have noticed the distaste on
her face, but it went unseen by the swarthy man as he joined her. He
wasn't unhandsome in a Latin sort of way, but the small sharply trimmed
mustache and his slick oiled appearance caused an unpleasant reaction in
almost anyone who met him.
Perhaps he had sensed this so many times in his fifty two years that
his subconscious had built in an automatic screening device and he no
longer even noticed the adverse reactions.
Laura slid her chair to the side slightly to make more room for him
only to have him move closer still, until their thighs were touching.
He's so repulsive, she thought. So Goddamned sneaky! But, for
Johnny's sake I can't offend him.
She nodded at him, trying to affect a warm smile, and returned her
attention to her husband as he began another number. Deke Vito glanced at
her half-filled drink and snapped his fingers at a passing waitress.
As he gave the girl the order, Laura watched him fondle the woman's
leg.
That Pig! He'd never get away with it if he didn't have so much
control in this casino. And he thinks the girls let him touch them
because he's so attractive!
"Laura, Baby . . . that chick's got nice wheels, but they ain't
nowhere as gorgeous as your legs." He leered at her in what she thought he
figured was a seductive glance. "Yes sir, Johnny's got himself a nice
little thing going hasn't he?"
He leaned over to pat her hand as he spoke, and she had to fight the
desire to jerk it away from him. She reached for a cigarette, using it as
an excuse to remove her hand, and tried to change the direction the
conversation was definitely heading.
"Deke. What do you think of Johnny? Isn't he great! He sure has
this crowd wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he?"
"What, oh yeah. 'Course they're just a bunch of frustrated ol bags
hungerin' for a young guy." He chewed on his cigar as he gazed
contemptuously around the people filled room. "Hey, don't get me wrong.
Your boy's alright. Someday he might just get somewhere. Yeah, someday,
if he's got the right influence behind him." He nudged her painfully.
Yeah, I might just decide to give the kid the right push . . . if I had a
little cooperation. Know what I mean . . .?"
Good God! she thought. He's finally come right out with it. She
tried frantically to think of something to say that would avoid
acknowledging his question.
"Come on, Deke," she laughed hesitantly. "You know we'd both
appreciate anything you could do. Johnny thinks you're the greatest
manager in the world." She paused. "Hey, listen, Deke . . . he's going to
do that song everyone likes so much . . ."
But the man just leaned closer, ignoring her. "Johnny? No, Baby, I'm
thinking of a way you and I can help his career . . . you and me."
Just as she started to pull away from him they were interrupted by
the waitress with their drinks. In the moments that it took him to find
his pen and sign the drink tab Johnny finished the last number in the set
and the house lights came on.
She watched her husband finish the song on his knees like Al Jolson,
bowing his head to the standing applause of the audience. He's so
terrific, she thought. I can't hurt his career with Vito. Please, God,
get him over here before Deke gets a chance to continue!
The man at her side turned disappointedly from the waitress to watch
Johnny Dutton thread his way through the milling crowd toward the table.
"Hi, honey . . . Hey, Deke, how'd you like the show! Boy, these
people are great. Man, what a great set! Hey, how did you . . ."
Laura watched her husband's excited gesticulations, heard him
rattling happily to his manager. Her relief at having him break up the
conversation that Vito had started was spoiled by the realization that
Johnny was loaded again.
Whenever he finished a set with a good audience he was always wound
up, but again tonight she recognized the glassiness in his eyes, the soft
slurring in his voice when he spoke, and knew that he'd been drinking
heavily again.
It was strange. He could get up on the stage completely smashed and
it never showed in his singing but as soon as he got away from the lights
and the music it became very obvious to anyone that knew him.
Even Vito saw it. "Johnny, baby . . . you're on the sauce again.
Man, you gotta cool it." There was a cold harshness in his voice, enough
to make itself known to the singer.
"Hey, no Deke, I just had a couple," he said soberly. "My throat was
kinda' sore."
Then he grabbed his manager by the arm. "Come on," he said
cheerfully. "Let's hit the tables, tonight I feel lucky."
Laura reached out for him and he saw the movement, the apprehension
in her eyes. "Don't worry, Honey. Have a quick drink at the bar and I'll
be right back." She started to protest, but before she could answer him,
he shouted to the bartender at the lounge bar. "Hey, Harry, fix this
lovely young lady up with another daiquiri and keep an eye on her for me,
willya."
"Sure thing, Mister Dutton. Great show!"
As she was led to the bar Laura got a little consolation out of the
bartender's remark. She knew everyone was impressed with Johnny and
perhaps she was being a little unfair to him. Every entertainer had to
unwind a little after three hours of constant work. Besides, if Johnny
really was lucky tonight it would make up for some of the money he'd lost
during the past few weeks.
The men at the bar parted to give her a seat with undisguised
admiration in their eyes as she perched herself on the stool and tugged
her short skirt back down to cover the shapely softness of her thighs.
Johnny kissed her lightly on the cheek and then he and Vito wove
their way through the throngs of little old ladies at the slot machines
with their paper cups of nickels, fighting their way to the center crap
table.
Harry, true to his word, moved up to her end of the bar and mixed his
drinks from that side. He stood there and talked to her, protecting her
from the more confident men who had edged up with the hope that they might
be lucky enough to pick her up.
"Laura," said Harry, "that man of yours sure is talented. I hear an
awful lot here at the bar and, just like me, everyone thinks he's going to
be a great star. But," he added thoughtfully, "he's got to watch the
booze."
She turned to the kindly old man behind the bar, thankful for his
company and the advice she knew only too well to be true. Besides, he was
talking about the only thing that really mattered to her anymore. Johnny.
Johnny and his success.
"Thank you, Harry. You know how much it means to him. It's all he's
ever wanted. And . . ." she continued with a sigh, "the drinking's just
temporary." The men standing nearby had heard the bartender's remark and
each of them, if for no other reason than an excuse to talk to the
beautiful girl, moved close enough to say that they agreed.
She sat there for a little over an hour, acknowledging the talk
whenever she had to, and watching her husband at the dice table. She
could tell from his animated expressions and joyous laughter that he was
winning, and also from the trips that the cocktail waitress was making to
the table that he was drinking very heavily. Vito was still there along
with about fifteen other people, but they were all standing back watching
her husband make one winning pass after another with the dice.
As Harry poured another daiquiri for her she thought inwardly that
she really couldn't criticize Johnny's drinking. Sitting there, she had
already had five or six of the rum-flavored cocktails and she could feel
the dizzying warmth spreading through her.
She glanced around wondering what time it was but there were no
clocks on the casino walls. "The City Without Clocks." In Reno, as in
any of the other gambling centers in the country, the casinos were open 24
hours a day and none of them displayed any clocks on the walls. Inside
the clubs it was impossible to tell night from day and the casinos had no
desire to remind anyone how long they had been drinking or gambling.
Laura turned to one of the hovering men for the time and was amazed
to find that it was almost three in the morning. She was due back in the
casino at noon in her job as a cocktail waitress. Turning to watch Johnny
again, she realized there was no way to get him peacefully out of there in
his present exuberant condition, particularly while he was ahead.
She called Harry over to say goodnight and rose a little unsteadily
from her stool.
A few moments later, during a lull when the dice were being passed to
another player she pulled Johnny to the side to tell him she was leaving.
When he felt her hand on his arm he jerked away angrily and started
to say something, but she interrupted him . . .
"No, Darling, I'm not asking you to go. I have to, because I'm due
back early in the morning."
He mumbled something unintelligible and turned back to the game,
patting her clumsily on the buttocks.
He's so different so cold, when he's drinking. He never drank so
much before, she thought. It's only been since he started working here.
And the gambling! If only he was working somewhere besides a casino! It
was so much better before.
She and Johnny had only been married a little over three months and
working in the casino just three weeks. His last job had been in Denver
and until they'd reached the gambling areas in Nevada she had never known
he had such an insatiable desire to gamble.
Now, it was only her money as a waitress that kept them going. And
that wasn't enough. Although he was being paid very well to perform in
the cabaret, in the past weeks he'd lost every cent on the tables. She'd
pleaded with him to stop, they couldn't even pay their rent, but it had
only led to violent arguments.
Finally, she had reconciled herself to the fact that there was no way
to stop him, and she only hoped that he'd be through here soon.
His next engagement was supposed to be in either San Francisco or
Hollywood and the temptation of gambling wouldn't exist. Maybe then
they'd be able to get along a little better. She might not even have to
work.
She made her way through the crowded club and out onto the brightly
lit street. Even in the middle of the night the streets were full of
people crossing from one casino to another, the winners smiling and the
losers scowling.
Laura walked through the tunnels of flashing neon lights until she
came to a darkened street several blocks away. She turned there, passing
through a part of Reno the tourists never see. Winos and derelicts
sprawled in blackened comers and row after row of sleazy buildings
offering rooms for the night for those fortunate enough to scrape up fifty
cents or a dollar.
The street always made her uneasy and though the night was warm she
shivered as she pulled her coat a little tighter.
She paused under a street light and stared at the ramshackle box-like
hotel on the other corner. She was looking for a light in the manager's
room. Old Mr. Rogers, the manager, always seemed to be wandering around
at any hour of the day or night, and he was the last person in the world
she wanted to see.
He had been hounding Johnny and her each time they came in for the
overdue rent, and more than that, every time Laura turned around he seemed
to be watching her. He was like all the others and she knew exactly what
he wanted from her. There was no mistaking that evil glint in his eyes.
She stepped back out of the light and waited until she was satisfied
the dirty old man wasn't awake to see her come in and then dashed across
the street to the hotel's front door. Laura opened the door as quietly as
she could and slipped inside. The single bulb hanging from the long cord
in the hallway cast eerie shadows up the narrow flight of stairs to her
and Johnny's rooms.
She walked quickly up to the apartment and locked the door and then
rested on the edge of the bed to let the pounding in her heart slow down a
little.
Even before she removed her coat, she went into the bathroom to run
the water in the tub and then mixed herself a strong drink in the closet-
sized kitchen, happy she had missed their lecherous old landlord and his
obscene looks he always gave her.
Moments later she sat on the creaky bed in her slip and sipped her
drink. The bourbon and the soft music from the radio wasn't enough to
dispel the gloom that had settled over her as she recalled the way Johnny
had been acting lately. Feeling the tears beginning to well up in her
eyes she quickly finished her drink and went back into the kitchen to make
another before going back into the bathroom.
The El Diablo Hotel had once been the private home of a wealthy
Spanish family and remnants of its past glory could still be seen in some
of the fine woodwork that still remained or in the old photographs in the
lobby that depicted it with the great verandah and fluted columns.
But the last of the Spanish owners had died more than twenty years
ago and since that time the house had had many proprietors. It slowly
changed from a fine home into a second-rate hotel, and finally became the
property of Mr. Eloysius Rogers.
This was the man that made Laura so uncomfortable. A short fat,
unkempt man about fifty-five years old. She had complained several times
to Johnny that he always seemed to be watching her but her husband had
just laughed and replied that so was everyone else, that she ought to feel
proud.
Perhaps Johnny Dutton wouldn't have considered the matter so lightly
if he had been fully aware of the old manager's movements whenever Laura
was in the apartment.
Mr. Rogers sat completely concealed in the darkness except for the
rounded mask of light on his face. He has turned off all the lights in
his room and the only illumination came from the next room, through the
hole he had drilled in the wall.
He had lain awake for hours in the blackness of his room, waiting for
Laura Dutton to come home. He felt very pleased with his patience. Most
of the time the young girl came home with her husband and though it was
still exciting to watch her undress, to watch her husband fucking her, he
liked it best when she was alone. Then, in the darkness he could pretend
that she was undressing for him, that he was the man waiting in the bed
for her . . .
He sat nervously in the quietness and took long pulls at the bottle
of cheap wine beside him. Why was she taking so long in that goddamned
bathroom?
* * *
The slim, statuesque brunette wiped the last traces of cold cream
from her face and dried herself with a small towel. The reflection
staring back at her in the mirror made her feel better. She rarely wore
much makeup, and now without it her face was extraordinarily beautiful.
Even in the harshness of the bathroom light her skin was flawless and her
eyes still that strange shade of very light blue. The bourbon had made her
knees a little weak and she steadied herself with one hand as she
carefully brushed her coal-black hair into blue-lighted glossiness.
She was wearing only a sheer silk nighty over her bra and panties and
she stepped back from the mirror, opening it and trying to see the
fullness of her figure in the small mirror. It was no use, the mirror was
too high for her to see more than the tops of her shoulders.
She picked up her empty glass and moved back into the softly lighted
bedroom, closing the bathroom behind her. It took only a moment in the
kitchen to get some ice and make herself another drink and then she came
back to stand before the full-length mirror in the bedroom.
Laura felt the soothing heat of the liquor spreading through her,
numbing the sadness of a life that was going wrong, a husband that drank
and gambled continually.
She often wondered if there was something she was doing wrong. She
wondered if somehow her looks were fading. But, now as she stood before
the mirror she knew nothing had happened to her appearance. If anything,
now at twenty-two she was even more attractive than as a teenager.
If I have gained any weight, she thought, it doesn't seem to show
anywhere. Of course I can't really tell with this lace thing on.
The man in the shadows on the darkened other side of the wall watched
the girl undo the ribboned bow at her neck and tried to stifle a sudden
gasp as the silken negligee slid from her shoulders and fell to the floor.
Laura stepped out of the swirled silk at her feet and returned her
gaze to the reflection in the mirror. She stood at first with both hands
on her hips, her legs slightly spread, and studied the image that faced
her. She went through a checkpoint system that she always followed
whenever she examined her body to make sure that she wasn't sagging or
gaining weight in any area.
First, my feet and ankles, she said to herself, then laughed. There
really isn't much a woman can do to make a foot pretty except cover it.
At least they're small. And my ankles still look too slim to support me.
Her eyes moved a little higher, resting for a moment on her calves
and then upward to her thighs. Her legs were perfect, with just enough
weight to shape their flawless curves but still firm and slender.
I'm awfully lucky, Laura thought as she ran her hands over her thighs
and across the firm flatness of her belly. She slid them past the elastic
ridges of her black silk bikini panties and upward to her breasts . . .
The peeping man sat entranced, leaning forward on the hard chair as
he watched each sensuous move Laura Dutton made. He knew that as long as
he made no noise there was no possibility that she might catch him. The
hole that he had cut in the wall between the two rooms was disguised on
each side by a phony ventilating grill.
When she had come home earlier and he had seen her remove her dress
he had felt the familiar erection beginning beneath his trousers, but it
had disappeared during the long time she had been in the bathroom.
Now, as she stood almost nude in the other room, he could again feel
his penis straining painfully against the confines of his clothing. He
stared intently through the small hole, gulping sloppily at his wine and
trying to anticipate each further move the beautiful girl might make.
Laura cupped her full breasts in both hands and raising them. Even
without the support of the bra she would have been able to raise the
curved globes only slightly. Her breasts were so firm that they sagged
very little, if at all.
My God!, if only Johnny were here, she moaned aloud as she felt her
nipples respond to the caresses of her hands. My breasts feel so
sensitive, so eager to be touched. I want to feel his hands on me. I want
him here to put his hands on me! . . .
She stood there with her eyes half closed, not consciously realizing
what she was doing, and reached behind her to unsnap the small hooks that
held her straining bra. As it fell to the floor and the cool air washed
across her reddened, erectile nipples she shivered in quick delight.
Christ! Why isn't he here! It feels so wonderful when he kisses me
there, when I can feel his tongue on my breasts . . . when he bites me so
tenderly.
She had moved back slightly from the mirror while holding herself and
now she felt the edge of the bed against the backs of her calves. The
combination of the liquor and the sudden desire that had been racing
through her made her feel a little weak and she threw the covers back and
lay down on the bed.
The coldness of the sheets was doing nothing to counteract the raging
heat in her body and her legs strained as she stretched spread-eagled on
the cool linen . . .
I've got to stop this, she thought, I'm driving myself crazy. It's
these goddamn panties, they're so hot! I'm going to take them off and try
to relax.
The old man's breath echoed back at him, coming in huge explosive
gasps, as he watched her slowly inching the last remaining strip of sheer
black silk from her raised hips.
She kicked the panties from her feet. Oh God! Where's Johnny! I
want him here! I want to feel his hands here . . . between my legs . . .
holding me . . . inside me!
Laura's hands were between her thighs, lightly probing their way up
and down and finally coming to rest on the raised mound of softly curled
pubic hair . . .
Mr. Rogers felt his blood boiling into a great pounding pressure in
his brain. He couldn't believe it! Right before his eyes she was holding
herself like that! Then he heard those strange moaning sounds coming from
her lips. He tried to get closer, to hear was she was saying. Slowly he
tried to calm the roaring noises in his head until he was able to make out
her words.
"Johnny, where are you . . . Ohhhhhhhhhhhh . . . Johnny, please hurry
. . . I want you . . . I need somebody . . . anybody! .. . I need
somebody Now! . . . Ahhhhhhhhhhhh . . . Johnny, SOMEBODY . . . please,
please help me! . . ."
She was begging! The old man heard her. She's begging!, that little
bitch! I'll help her. I'll help her right now!
The man moved back so quickly he knocked over the chair but neither
he nor the girl in the other room heard it as it fell to the floor. Or
the door slam as he hurried from his room.
Laura writhed violently on her bed, straining in unfulfilled desire.
Her eyes were closed tightly as she drove her fingers faster and faster in
and out of her eager, heated vagina . . . she didn't hear her door open .
. . and the click of the light being turned off meant nothing to her
crazed, lust-filled mind . . .
It wasn't until moments later when she felt the weight of someone on
the bed, felt the mattress sag, that she realized someone was here with
her.
"Johnny! . . . Oh, Johnny! Darling . . . you came . . . Oh, I want
you so much, I need you now!" . . .
"AHhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she felt the fiery shock spread through her as his
body touched hers.
"Oh yes! . . . please, put it in me! . . . please, I want you to
make love to me now . . . I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME! . . ."
The words burst from her lips in broken sentences, and her hands
clawed at the man's back, pulling him with all her strength against her
eager, reaching hips. She moaned from deep in her throat as she felt the
hot, blood-filled head of his cock slowly part the slit of her cunt and
slip wetly inside.
"OHhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . YES! . . . inside me . . . more . . . More . .
. MORE! . . . Oh my God! . . . hurry, Darling . . . HURRY! . . ."
She felt a great, roaring heat filling her, swelling and expanding
inside the hot, stretched walls of her pussy . . . not going deeper, but
saturating her entire being with a flowing wall of fire and hardened
flesh.
Her mind spun in huge, whirling circles---spinning colors blinding her
to everything but the raging torrent of desire in her loins. Throwing her
legs out wide into the air, her hands dug into his buttocks and aided his
pounding rhythm.
An explosion was building in her she couldn't control. With each
massive plunge of his throbbing cock she felt a new wave of ecstasy crash
thunderously deep within her grinding hips.
"Aaaarrrggghhhhh! Yes, yes . . . harder . . . that's it!" she
screamed in his ear. "Oh my God! Oh, yes, Johnny."
It was more than the old man could take. After watching her for
almost an hour from the other room, the excitement was becoming too much
for him and he couldn't wait much longer. He strained against her,
driving himself as deeply as he could and trying desperately to hold back
a little longer.
"OHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . faster, FASTER!" Her fingernails raked
his back as she strove to move him more quickly. "Yes! that's it, soon,
Darling, soon . . ."
She hung onto him, arching her back higher and higher, trying to hold
back the impending explosion growing and swelling deep in her belly.
She moaned and churned beneath him with each hard, driving lunge, her
face contorted into a strained mask of undisguised passion. Then she
screamed.
"NOW!" her guttural cry shattered the softer noises in the darkened
room. "Now! . . . Ohooooooooh, yes! . . . I'm cuming! I'm cuuuummming!
I
Just as she felt him jerk against her, felt him filling her with
powerful spurts of flowing, hot burning sperm, she felt herself erupting
inside like a giant explosion rolling across the earth.
She strained against him, hanging on with all her strength as she
throbbed out her own passion thick rivulets of white, liquid semen bubbled
out from her cunt-lips around the tight, flesh-clasped prick and rolled
down the quivering crevice of her buttocks to the sheets below.
It ended for them both in the same wild, instantaneous moment,
leaving only an aftermath of two tightly clinging bodies panting out the
last dying pleasures of their orgasm.
She fell back against the bed with her head lolling to one side and
soft mewling sounds escaped breathlessly from her parted lips.
The man collapsed on top of her, spittle dripping from his lips as he
dropped his head against her cheek.
"Oh God, it was wonderful . . . Johnn . . ." She stopped. He didn't
feel right. It wasn't Johnny's head! He didn't feel like . . .
"Who . . . WHO ARE YOU!" she screamed, kicking at him with her legs
and trying to get out from beneath him. She rolled violently to the side,
half falling to the floor.
"No, NO! . . . who are you!"
Laura ran stumbling to the light switch by the door and scratched
frantically for it before her hands found the panel. The room was
suddenly filled with a blinding brightness. Then, as her eyes adjusted,
the form of the man who had just fucked her began to take shape.
Great, wracking sobs shook her as she recognized the triumphantly
smiling face. "You . . . it's you, you beast, you miserable beast!" How
could it have BEEN? How was he here in her room!
The screaming girl groped drunkenly for her robe and tried to clear
the shattered cobwebs of her mind. She stumbled against the dressing
table and her fingers closed around a heavy glass ashtray. She grabbed it
hysterically and threw it at the man trying to pull on his trousers. The
glancing blow left a blood-streaked gash on his forehead, almost knocking
him to his knees.
Laura ran at him and her hands became claws that slashed at the
short, fat man. But the impact of the ashtray, rather than stunning him,
had angered him.
He grabbed her flailing arms and threw her violently back against the
bed knocking the breath out of her.
He stood over her with his hands on his hips, a smile flickered
across his face before it was replaced with a sneer.
"One, Mrs. Dutton, there was no rape! You called out for me to come
in . . ." Before the sobbing girl could interrupt, he continued, "and
furthermore, before you entertain any thoughts of going to the authorities
you might consider how it would sound if I testified that it was you who
enticed me in here and offered your body to me in exchange for the back
rent."
He paused, very proud of the authoritative tone of his voice, and
then continued threateningly, "I'm known and respected around her and I
seriously doubt anyone would take your word over mine."
Laura was so shaken she could barely understand what was happening.
She only knew that something terrible had occurred to her and that the man
in front of her, the fat little manager that had caused it, was
threatening her with something else. She tried to clear the cobwebs from
her befuddled mind and listen to what he was saying.
"I would suggest that you remain silent about this. Tell no one and,
just to avoid any trouble in the hotel, I'll consider your back rent paid
in full."
He stopped to make sure she understood everything she was saying. He
saw the wide-eyed fright, her silence, and realized he had made it. He'd
have no trouble from her he was sure.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Dutton. Think over what I've said and I'm sure
everything will work out perfectly."
He'd finished buttoning his shirt and he picked up his shoes and
smiling back at her helpless form, walked out of the room, closing the
door silently behind him.
Chapter 2
It was almost six in the morning when the door opened and Johnny
stood framed in the hall light behind him. He came into the bedroom with
the exaggerated care of a man who had had too much to drink. He tried to
undress in the darkness, hopping clumsily from one foot to the other as he
removed his trousers, until Laura spoke, her voice filled with shame and
humiliation.
"Turn on the light, Darling, it's alright. I'm awake."
She had been awake since the exit of Mr. Rogers, and had cried until
there were no more tears to come. She had just lain there helplessly and
struggled with her confused thoughts trying to decide what to tell her
husband. During those tortured hours she'd been unable to make any
decision and now that Johnny faced her she knew there was no way to tell
him what had actually happened.
"Laura, what are you doing awake? You have to work this morning,
don't you?" His voice was fuzzy and slurred from liquor.
"I was just waiting up for you, Darling. I don't know, I just
couldn't sleep." She held out her arms to him and he burrowed up against
her like a small child.
When he spoke his voice was muffled by her shoulder and she strained
to hear him.
"Oh Laura, honey, all of a sudden everything went bad. I couldn't
win. I just couldn't win! I was so far ahead, and then I kept losing . .
."
He seemed so hurt and helpless that her own troubles seemed to
disappear and she held him as tightly as she could and tried to soothe
him.
"Johnny, Johnny, don't worry about anything. Come on, get into bed
with me and we'll talk about it in the morning. You'll see, everything's
going to be fine."
Her husband finished undressing and crawled in bed beside her. At
first she thought he was relieved that she hadn't wanted to tank to him
about the gambling losses, but all night long she could feel him tossing
in his sleep. His breathing was very erratic and once she was startled to
find a cold film of perspiration covering his forehead.
He awoke about ten and called to her in the kitchen while she was
making coffee.
She came in with an extra cup for him and sat on the edge of the bed.
As he slid up to rest against a pushed-up pillow, he took her hand.
"Laura, I have to talk to you." The words seemed choked with emotion
and she could sense the seriousness and tension in his voice.
"Honey, I have to tell you about last night . . . I'm so ashamed of
myself. I don't know what happened to me, whether it was the booze or
just all the excitement."
He was trying to be calm but his hand was gripping her so tightly
that it was painful. She started to say something to calm him but she
could tell he had to get it out of his system, and that there was nothing
she could say that could help.
"Alright, Johnny, I'm listening. And don't worry."
"Remember when you left . . . I was at the crap table. Well,
everything I did seemed to be right. I kept winning and winning. I'd won
almost three thousand dollars, and then the dice, everything, seemed to
change. . ." He paused, as if he was trying to relive the whole night, to
bring everything back into focus.
"I started to lose . . . on every toss I lost. I tried anything---
changing my bets, I moved to different tables. Nothing worked. Everybody
kept patting me on the back, telling me my luck had to change, and Deke
kept handing me more chips to play . . ."
His voice trailed off and he was silent for several seconds. He
wasn't even looking at her, just staring off into the distance, and Laura
could see the pain etched into his face.
"It kept going on and on. I couldn't win! I couldn't win!"
She began to get frightened. She'd seen him when he started to
gamble and she knew there was no stopping him until his money ran out. It
was his remark about Deke Vito that worried her.
"Johnny, what do you mean Deke kept giving you money. Whose money
was it? Wasn't it yours, wasn't it the money you'd won earlier?"
"No!" he shouted bitterly. "I'd already lost that, I told you! It
was his money. Deke's!"
"Oh no, Johnny. Why? How could you have borrowed money from him.
You know we don't have any money to pay him back. How much was it? For
God's sake, how much was it!"
The worry in her voice hit him and he grabbed her, burying his head
against her breasts. He mumbled something but she couldn't hear him.
"what, Johnny? Johnny, I can't hear you. How much of Vito's money
did you lose? Please, Johnny, talk to me . . ."
He raised his head and she could see the wetness lining his eyes.
"Over five thousand dollars. Over five goddamned thousand dollars!"
"Oh my God, Johnny! How could you? Where are we ever going to get
that much money. We can't even buy groceries!"
She could feel him trembling against her and shaking his head from
side to side, but her mind kept reeling with the thought of all that
money. How? Where were they going to get the money? She tried frantically
to think of someone who would lend them that much. Johnny had no family
and they couldn't go to hers because they had been against the marriage in
the first place. Their daughter, a society debutante from one of the
oldest families on Cape Cod, marrying an entertainer. A singer that no one
had ever even heard of!
"Honey . . ." his voice interrupted her thoughts, "we were
celebrating, me and Deke. He had a brand new contract for me. A big one!
At the Fairmount Hotel in San Francisco! I was so happy, so goddamned
happy. It was what we'd been waiting for, you and me. We'd made it. Big
Time! . . . and I blew it, shot it all to hell . . ."
His voice trailed off and she sat up trying to understand what he'd
said.
"Johnny, what do you mean, you blew it? That's it! It's wonderful,
that's the way we can pay him back. If the new contract means more money
we can . . ."
"Laura," he interrupted, "Laura, it's no good. I know Deke and he'll
never let me have that much time to pay him back. When I left him he got
kinda nasty and asked me if I was going to bring the money to him today."
He looked up at her, the hurt and confusion showing plainly in his
eyes. "Laura, I didn't know what to say . . . I told him sure I'd give it
to him today. I couldn't tell him anything else, he had Black Jack with
him---Mr. Mornay's bodyguard."
Johnny Dutton held his head in his hands. There was no sound except
the convulsive shaking of his shoulders. "Honey, he'll ruin us if I don't
pay. He'll blackball me in every club on the West Coast."
"Johnny, I don't understand. Surely he knows you can't pay him back
right away. Why did he give you the money?"
"I don't know . . . I don't know, he just kept handing me more
chips. It was almost as if he wanted me to lose."
They sat quietly for several moments, the room darkened except for
the brilliant shaft of sunlight that had broken through a half-opened
window.
Laura's mind spun in a tortured turmoil. First it had been the old
man the night before and now it was this. She didn't know what to do!
Johnny put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to him. "We've
got to get out of here. It's our only chance. We'll go back East, New
York or someplace. . . I'll just start over." His hand gripped her
tighter. 'Hell, I can still sing; he can't take that away from me."
Their eyes met, as if they'd both remembered a story they'd heard in
the same instant. Just after they'd arrived fox Johnny's engagement at
the casino a story had been going around about a saxophone player who had
crossed Deke Vito. He had been found several days later in a ditch
outside of town with his lip cut horribly and all of his fingers broken.
Naturally, there had been no witnesses and the musician had been too
frightened to speak, but the old timers in the club had mentioned Deke
Vito's name more than once, and some of them even had similar stories of
incidents in the past.
Whether the story of the sax player or any of the others was actually
true, it frightened the two of them. Laura tried to stop the tears that
were building up in her, but it was no use and she broke into great
heaving sobs as Johnny held her tightly in his arms.
"My God, Johnny . . . what are we going to do . . ." There was no
answer. No answer until . . .
"Laura, baby, there's only one way out." He paused and she could
hear the falseness in his emotion.
"Laura, if you talked to Vito, maybe if you went to see him you might
be able to convince him . . ." As he stuttered out the words she knew by
the way he spoke they were rehearsed. Johnny was a tremendous talent as a
singer, but he was no actor and she could almost see the words forming
themselves in the air before he uttered them. She waited, not because she
didn't know what was coming, but only to see how he was going to phrase
it. She wondered if he was going to be able to squeeze out an actual tear
or if he'd have to fake it.
"Honey, you wouldn't have to do anything with him, I promise. If it
ever came to that I'd kill myself." His voice came haltingly, steeped
with emotion.
"Laura, you could just talk to him; he likes you---you know that. If
you could just get him to wait for the money, to give me that contract---we
could make it."
She watched him carefully. She saw the tears forming in his eyes.
He really is crying ,she thought. He must know that Deke Vito would never
be satisfied with just a spoken plea from me. He'll want more, much more.
Oh, Johnny, don't you know what you're doing to us?
Her husband seemed to sense that he hadn't succeeded with his guise
of naive innocence. His voice changed and he tried a different approach.
Laura, I know what you're thinking, about Vito I mean. We both know he'll
want more from you. But, if you can just stall him until he gives me the
contract to sign, until I get a copy of it, then it won't matter what he
wants."
Laura looked at him. His voice was stronger and she was sure he was
being honest with her.
"Don't you see, honey? We'll have the contract, and if he tries to
break it in San Francisco I'll make such a stink about it, about him
wanting you, that the publicity alone will take us where we want to go."
It seemed to make sense. Deke Vito wasn't that big, and if Johnny
had a contract to headline at the biggest hotel in San Francisco and Vito
tried to break it, her husband would easily be able to find another agent
or manager to handle him.
She was fairly sure of herself. She thought she'd be able to hold
Vito off long enough to get that signed contract. I ought to be able to,
she thought, as much as that pig slobbers over me all the time. It might
even be fun to turn him on and off like water faucet.
She took her husband's hand. "Don't worry, Darling, I'll get that
contract for you." She leaned over and kissed him.
"I've got to get to work. I'll see you when I get home." It was
Johnny's one night off at the cabaret.
She grabbed her coat and as she closed the door behind her she was
already thinking of ways to ensnare the gambler who held the key to their
future.
* * *
It was almost five in the afternoon before she saw Vito. She'd been
going over and over different plans since she'd come to work and had
finally decided to play it fairly straight, hoping that the man's desire
for her was great enough to keep him satisfied with promises of the
future.
It was the slowest time of the day in the casino; the night players
hadn't come in yet and even most of the die-hards from the night before
had gone back to their motels.
Vito had looked her way only once and she had been able to sense the
curiosity in him, but there had been no chance to talk to him privately.
Now, as she stood in a far corner of the almost deserted cocktail
lounge she saw him coming toward her.
He smiled in his inimitable way and called out to her. "Hi Baby,
whattya doin' hidden way back here?"
"Hi Deke. It's so slow that I thought I'd take a short breather."
She tried to keep her voice as steady as possible.
"I understand you and Johnny had quite a time last night."
"Yeah, quite a time. Johnny was a little unlucky---one of those
nights." He stared at her. "Did he tell you about it?"
"Yes, he told me."
"Yeah, but did he tell you everything, baby?"
"Oh, you mean all the money he lost?"
"That too. Did he tell you about borrowing any money?"
He took the stool next to her and as always somehow managed to get
his leg pressed too tightly against hers. But this time she didn't pull
away from him. She just let his thigh rest where it was.
"He said he'd gotten quite a bit of money from you, Deke."
"It all depends how you look at it, kid. To me five grand ain't
nothing to Johnny, who knows." He lit a cigarette and tried to make it
look natural as he dropped his hand to her thigh.
"Yeah, to Johnny five G's might be a lot of money."
"It is an awful lot of money, Deke . . ."
"Has he got it for me today, baby?" he interrupted. But Deke Vito had
been in the money racket long enough to know the singer had been bluffing
the night before when he'd said he'd have it today, and when the kid's
wife hadn't jerked her leg away from his hand like she always did, he had
a pretty good idea how Johnny Dutton planned to pay it back.
Laura started to give him some story about her family sending the
money in a few days but, looking at Vito, she knew he'd never fall for it.
"No, he doesn't." She dropped her hand to his, lowering her
eyelashes. "Deke, isn't there some way you can give Johnny a little more
time until the contract comes through!"
"The contract? So, your boy told you about that too, huh?"
He ran his hand beneath her short skirt, toying with the edge of her
stocking. "Yeah, that sure is a sweet contract. Big Time for your boy.
Yeah, real big time." He lightly traced his fingers down the inside of
her thigh. Already, the nattily dressed gambler had her confused. She
knew he was going too far and too fast, but she didn't know what to do.
"I told you, baby, I'd take good care of ol' Johnny if you were nice
to me." He accentuated his words with a sudden pinch right at the edge of
her panties.
"Ow! Deke, you're hurting me." She tried to move away a little. It
really had hurt. But his hand closed over her thigh right against the
rise of her pubic mound and held her still.
"Sorry, Laura, I'd never want to hurt you. You know that, baby. I'd
like to make you feel real good all over. Real good!"
He looked at her shrewdly and decided that maybe he was going a
little too fast. He was completely confident that she'd be his to play
with before long, but he didn't want to scare her. He moved his hand
farther down her leg and cupped her knee in his palm.
"You know, baby, that's one hell of a contract I got for Johnny. If
he handles it right it'll make him real big overnight."
"Oh Deke, that's wonderful. I don't know how I'll ever be able . .
." she stopped. She didn't want to say that.
"I think I know, baby. And I also know a way you can get that
contract for your boy. Why don't you just meet me up in Mr. Mornay's
suite at eight when you get off. Then we'll talk over a few ways you can
make things a little easier for Johnny Dutton."
He ran his hand quickly back up between her legs to touch the soft
silk crotch band of her panties before he got up and walked jauntily away.
Laura sat there for several minutes more trying to erase the stain of
Deke Vito from her mind, then she was called away to deliver some drinks
to some blackjack players.
For the next couple of hours she was too busy to have any time to
think of what novas awaiting her in the casino owner's suite on the top
floor. It wasn't until the girl who relieved her tapped her on the
shoulder and told her she was off that she had a chance to contemplate
some course of action.
She knew Deke Vito wasn't the type to waste any time but she couldn't
bear the thought of going completely through with what he had in mind.
She was still trying to think of some way to stall him when she felt
a huge hand on her shoulder.
It was Black Jack. No one knew his last name, or even if he had one.
The giant Negro was Mr. Mornay's bodyguard and the biggest man Laura had
ever seen.
He was at least seven feet tall, always dressed in shining black
mohair suits with a white tie, and he never seemed to say a word. It was
rumored that he couldn't even speak because no one had ever heard him. He
just nodded deferentially to Vito's or Mornay's commands and lumbered off
to obey.
Laura had been in the lobby once when a drunk and irate customer had
taken a swing at the casino owner. Black Jack had appeared out of
seemingly nowhere, grabbed the man's fist in mid-air and crushed it with
his own hand until the man screamed and fainted. Then the huge black man
had picked him up like a toy and carried him outside to stuff him upside
down in the sports car the valet had brought around.
She turned to look up at him and then followed as he silently led
her to the elevator.
He pushed a button on a side wall separated from the buttons that
indicated the various floors of the casino and the elevator was completely
quiet as it rose to the penthouse.
There was only one set of great double doors and the Negro waited
patiently for Deke Vito to answer the buzzer. It didn't take him long.
"Hello, baby. I'm glad you decided to come up," the gambler said as
he motioned her into the spacious living room.
"How about a little drink, kid, before we get down to business?"
Without waiting for her to answer, he motioned to Black Jack who
immediately went to a concealed bar that opened with the flick of a small
switch.
In seconds that seemed like a silent eternity, the man returned with
two tall drinks and handed one to Vito before he bowed and offered the
other to Laura.
My God, she thought, it's like a James Bond movie. The raucous
noises of the casino below had disappeared with the closing door and the
penthouse seemed to be suspended high above the earth. The curtains across
the glassed front wall of the living room were wide open and all that
could be seen were the tops of the snow-capped mountains that glowed
eerily in the twilight.
There was no sound in the room except the clinking of ice cubes and
the soft music of a hidden sound system.
Black Jack had retired to the opened bar where he stood at semi-
attention.
"Laura baby, don't be nervous," Vito said as he patted her
salaciously on the knee. "Drink your drink and relax, we're just going to
have a nice little chat."
Vito stood up and removed the deep purple dinner jacket he was
wearing. He looked down from his jewel-studded shirtfront.
"I'm goin' to go freshen up, baby. I'll be right back."
She felt a little better with him out of the room and drank thirstily
from the tall frosted glass---and she had no objections when Black Jack
appeared to make her another. The drink had calmed her a little and she
settled back into the velvet softness of the curved couch. She felt
considerably more confident and didn't notice the care the huge man took
in making her drink. She didn't see the exactness with which he poured
the clear liquid from a special bottle in the far corner of the bar.
Black Jack handed it to Deke Vito who had just come back into the
room and the sleek looking gambler brought it over to her with a smile.
As he settled onto the couch next to her she was almost sickened by
the heavy, sweet smell of the cologne he'd just sprayed himself with.
My God, he must have taken a bath with it. He smells like a French
whorehouse. The last thought sobered her momentarily. Whorehouse . . .
I've got to be careful. But the rich warmth that was gradually spreading
through her washed away her tension and she felt very sure of herself.
He can't do anything I don't want him to. I may let him touch me a
little with his greasy hands, but only enough to get what I want from him.
Johnny's contract! The words kept tumbling through her mind to remind her
she had to maintain a friendliness toward him in spite of her revulsion.
"Johnny's contract." The words startled her. "Baby, let's talk about
Johnny's contract . . . and the money he owes me."
She looked at the gambler's olive-skinned face through the pearling
gray cigar smoke. She was a little surprised to see that everything
looked a little hazy to her.
"Baby, that contract's worth an awful lot of money to you and the
kid; but the five grand he owes me ain't nothin' to sneeze at."
Her lips seemed a little numb and it was getting difficult to focus
her eyes clearly. She tried to concentrate on his words but her mind kept
wanting to wander away.
She fastened her eyes on one of the sapphire shirt studs on the
pleated front before her and waited til her eyes cleared and she was able
to see it distinctly. Then his words became a little easier to
understand.
"Yeah, Laura baby, that's a lotta dough. More'n your boy Johnny's
got. So if I ain't going to get it from him, where's it gonna come from?"
She looked up at him, the fright showing clearly in her smoky eyes.
"Johnn . . . I mean Deke, I . . . I don't . . ."
"Take it easy, Laura baby, I know you ain't got it. But I got a
little proposition for you."
"A proposition?"
"What am I." He leaned forward. "What does everybody call Deke
Vito?"
Oh wow, she thought, the many ways I could answer that! What did he
want her to say.
"I don't know. A gambler, I guess," she replied, shrugging her
shoulders.
"That's right, Laura baby, the last of the high rollers." He
chuckled softly. "And I'm gonna show you just how much of a high roller I
am."
"I don't understand what you mean," Laura questioned, sensing a
foreboding tone in his laugh. "W---What are we going to do?"
"Black Jack, make the little lady another drink." He stood and took
her hand, pulling her to her feet. "Come with me and I'll show you."
She followed, a little frightened, and he took her into the next
room. It was a large and beautifully decorated room. One wall was glass
like the living room, but in a semi-circle around a huge bed were several
odd-shaped forms with velvet covers over them. The bed was tremendous and
completely round and above it were suspended several TV sets, a stereo
system, and a row of telephones.
The bodyguard came in with her drink and after handing it to her,
began to pull the velvet covers from what turned out to be crap and
blackjack tables and a giant ivory-inlaid roulette wheel.
"This is Mr. Mornay's private little casino for his very close
friends." He seemed to put extra emphasis on the "very" and Laura had a
sudden obscene vision of lovely girls sitting nude at the tables while Mr.
Mornay directed the play at their expense.
"I-It's a lovely place," she sad hesitantly, "but what does this have
to do with me?"
"Simple, Laura baby. I said we were going to gamble. Take your
pick. Blackjack, dice or roulette?"
"I-I don't understand. What are we going to gamble for?"
"Money, baby. The money Johnny Dutton owes me." He looked at her
through his heavy-lidded eyes. "For the money and for his new contract!"
He chuckled again. "You win, and they're yours . . . I erase his
debt and you get his contract. I couldn't get any fairer than that, could
I?"
She stood there in amazement at his words and his offer. The whole
idea was fantastic! She could erase all their problems with just one bet!
But, the sudden shock hit her, what does he want in return!
"B-But what do I have to gamble with? What am I betting with? What
do you get if I lose?" She had trouble getting the words out. The drinks
had her feeling strange and slightly dizzy and yet somehow, through the
haze, she knew what his horrible price was going to be.
The gambler walked over to her and cupped her chin in his hand. He
looked down hypnotically at her, the light reflecting from the black
pinpricks of his eyes.
"You, Laura baby, you. You're betting with the only thing you have .
. . that soft little pussy down between your legs."
She tried to back away from him, the shock of his blunt answer
frightening her, but he held her tightly. She almost fainted in that
heavy cloud of sweet cologne, feeling a sudden tremor of sensation run
through her as he slid a manicured fingernail down the side of her neck.
His touch seemed to send a vibration of high voltage electricity
dancing through her body. God! What was happening to her?
"I can't . . . I . . . I don't even know how to gamble . . ." she
managed to stammer, fighting the strange sensation in her that seemed to
be gnawing deep down in her belly.
Her words trailed away as she tried to think of some other way, some
excuse to get out of this. She felt so strange, so hot, and everything
seemed so far away---as if it were happening to someone else.
"Baby, you know how I've always wanted you . . .
"Yes, but, Deke, I just can't. I just can't do it with anyone else
but Johnny," she said pleadingly, not wanting to anger him before she had
gotten what she wanted.
"Listen to me, baby. There isn't any other way. It's so simple like
this and you get just as good a chance at winning as I have. You can't
ask any better than a fifty-fifty split on five grand." He still held
her, looking straight down into her eyes as she cowered before him, the
immensity of what he was saying sinking slowly into her alcohol confused
brain. "And . . ." he continued, not releasing his grip on her shoulders,
"even if you lose, we might still knock a little off that five grand."
Laura swayed in the strength of his hands holding her. She knew it
was she and Johnny's only chance to ever get even again and the whole of
their future lay in her decision. She tried to think, to clear the
confusion from her mind but she couldn't. The pressure was too great and
she could only stand there with a glazed expression in her eyes, not
moving or showing any emotion whatsoever.
"Well, come on, baby. You do love Johnny, don'cha?" He chided her
at her weakest point. "You wouldn't be the cause of him losin' his big
chance, now would you?"
Laura closed her eyes momentarily as she felt the big man's hands
slip down from her shoulders and fondle her full, protruding breasts with
a familiarity that repulsed her. She winced, her lips contorting slightly
from the combination of the drink and another man's hands touching her as
only Johnny, her husband, should be allowed to do. God, she had been
shamed and humiliated enough last night by that horrible landlord of
theirs and she didn't think she would be able to go through it again, no
matter what. But . . . at the same time . . . she knew she had absolutely
no choice and her delaying tactics were only to postpone the final moment
as long as possible.
"Look, baby, we'll make it easy. One turn of the roulette wheel and
you get to choose the color. If the little ball lands in your color, you
win. If it lands in mine, then ole Deke gets to play a little 'hide the
weeney' with you."
She suddenly jerked back from him, her eyes narrowing. "You don't
have to be so crude about it. It's horrible enough as it is."
"That's my girl," he smiled slyly, sensing by the tone of her voice
that she had already resigned herself to accept his proposition. "After
all, you got a fifty-fifty chance and that's better than you've got
downstairs when you're throwing money into it."
Laura's mind whirled. In spite of her dislike for the fat, insipid
little man, these were the best odds they would ever have. Certainly
better than Johnny had had last night when he had been playing against the
house. And . . . she could put them even again in just a matter of
minutes. But . . . Oh God, if she lost! Her eyes flickered
involuntarily over the short, fat man's body in front of her and she
shivered in revulsion at the thought of his touching her naked,
defenseless flesh. But . . . NO . . . NO . . . she couldn't think about
that now. It was her and Johnny's whole life she would be betting against
just a few short minutes with this pig of a man. She couldn't let Johnny
down now . . . when it really mattered. She just couldn't! And besides,
she might even win! The chances were good and the right was on her side
and that should count for something!
"Just one spin of the wheel, Laura, and it's all yours. The
contract, the five thousand, and you and Johnny home free." He goaded her
on, aware of the emotional battle that was raging in her mind.
"A-And if you win," she ventured falteringly. "you s-said you would
forget some of the debt."
"You drive a hard bargain, kid." He grinned and stroked her chin.
"Yeah, we'll forget the whole thing. You'd be worth five grand in the
rack any day. So that means all we're spinning for is whether or not
you're gonna put out to old Deke here. That's pretty fair."
Laura's hopes rose slightly when she heard this and as Black Jack
pressed another drink in her hand and she took a long, hard swallow, a
feeling of almost invincible confidence suddenly arose within her. She
knew she was going to win! She just had to! After all, she was doing it
for Johnny and his love and that made it so right! So right that it just
couldn't go wrong!
She looked up at him, squarely in the eyes for the first time that
evening and then brushed her long silken hair out of her eyes. It all
seemed so easy now---perhaps reckless, but easy. In a matter of minutes
all her and Johnny's problems would be over and she could fly home to him
and tell him all about it.
"Alright, Deke. I'll play." And in spite of her exuberant
confidence there was a slight quiver in her voice. She knew there was no
turning back now and she knew she was in this thing right up to her . . .
to her . . . well, to her pussy, as Deke persisted in calling it, and she
almost laughed from the grim thought, but it became all too serious a
moment later as Deke grinned triumphantly and turned her toward the
waiting table.
He had been waiting to get at that sniveling singer's young,
voluptuous wife for a long time and now it had finally arrived. He smiled
inwardly also at the secret thought that by the time they had finished the
game she would be ready for anything he wanted to do to her. Black Jack
had been doctoring her drinks carefully with tiny, tiny doses of Spanish
fly and the affects were beginning to tell slightly already. He had
detected it first when he had slipped his hand down to her breasts a few
moments ago and had set off a small, but highly perceptible, tremor racing
through her body. She had hidden it quickly by moving away from him but
he knew it had been there and it wouldn't be much longer now until she got
the full force of it. He had instructed Black Jack to save the knockout
doses until last and she was sipping away on it now. He licked his lips
in anticipation as, walking behind her, he watched the sensuous swaying of
her full, rounded hips and buttocks. Man, it was going to be really
something to cup those white, fleshy mounds in his hands as he rammed his
cock up deep inside her. He could hardly wait and felt like grabbing her
right now and throwing her over on the bed and shoving it to her with all
her clothes on. But he smiled patiently to himself and thought, might as
well make it all nice and legal like. It'll be more fun when she knows
she's gotta do it whether she wants to or not.
Laura sat down on one of the stools at the wheel, thankful for its
support. She felt awfully weak, but at the same time, for some strange
reason, she'd never felt so good---so warm and alive---in her life.
Deke Vito brought her a heavily doctored drink and tried to affect a
little nervousness in his voice as he spoke.
Well, to the victor, the spoils. What'll it be, red or black?"
Black Jack stood in the corner, just as intent on the tall brunette's
answer as the man at the table. He was behind the bar and, after
noiselessly sliding a small panel aside, stood with his hand poised above
two buttons, waiting for her answer. The buttons controlled the multi-
colored wheel where the man and woman sat. If the weight of the ball
depressed the wrong color in one of the grooves, the metal rib that
separated the red from black would lower just long enough to allow the
ball to move over one color. With the wheel still spinning, it was
virtually impossible to detect.
It wouldn't have worked downstairs in the casino, but up here for Mr.
Mornay's special customers it had never been detected.
Laura toyed with her drink for a moment before she answered.
"Red." She smiled nervously at Vito. "I'll take red."
Black Jack pushed the button with the small 'B' in the center and
moved from behind the bar.
"Okay, Laura baby, I've got black. Why don't we have Black Jack spin
the wheel so there's no chance that either of us could cheat."
He moved around next to her and dropped his hand to her thigh. As he
moved it all the way up until it was nestled firmly between the juncture
of her legs Laura felt a violent, trembling sensation race through her.
My God! What's the matter with me? He touches me and I start to
quiver. I can't stand the sight of him, and yet his hands feel so good.
Deke felt the hot moistness of her skin, felt her move beneath his
hand and knew that the drinks were having their effect. It wouldn't be
long now. Just this silly game and he'd have young Mrs. Dutton exactly
where he wanted her.
Laura tried to tear her mind away from his electrifying touch and
concentrate as the huge black man nodded to them both and casually spun
the wheel.
At first it was nothing but an indistinguishable blur, then as it
slowed she could hear the whirring of the ball turn into clicking as it
ticked against the metal grooves.
The gleaming silver ball went slower and slower until it started
rolling toward the center of the spinning table.
Finally, it stopped.
Deke Vito had turned his head away, crossing his fingers
theatrically, and the beautiful girl had closed her eyes in silent prayer
when she saw the ball slow down.
They were both surprised when Black Jack shouted.
"GREEN!"
The ball had settled into one of the two green grooves in the wheel
that meant nothing in this strange seductive game.
Deke Vito almost choked on his drink because he'd been so sure of
hearing his color called, but he cleared his throat and set the game into
motion again.
"Goddamn it, Black Jack, don't do that! I almost had a heart attack.
Spin that damn thing again."
He looked over at Laura and saw the glassy-eyed express on her face.
Gaining confidence that the "fly" was beginning to work, he burrowed his
hand deeper between the girl's thighs as the wheel spun once more. Her
eyes were focused intently on the wheel but her body involuntarily, as
though it were not part of her at all, responded to the touch of his hand
and her thighs clenched weakly for a moment, then spread slightly open
until he could touch the soft silken band of her panties running down
between her legs.
She squirmed sensuously beneath his touch, savoring the delicious
sensations that spread lewdly through her body.
Ooooooohhh, his hand is so hot and gentle! I can't think, I can't
think! What's happening? What's happening? Her head was thrown back, her
lips moist and parted; his touch drove everything else out of her mind.
She never even heard Black Jack, not until the man tapped her
shoulder and said again, "Black, Miss . . . the color is black."
She'd lost!
The wheel slowly stopped turning and there it was. The silver ball
lay nestled in the long triangle of black lacquer.
Somehow, it didn't seem to matter any more. The hand pressed so hotly
and obscenely between her legs had aroused a volcano of small fires
exploding throughout her quivering body.
She only felt a tremendous loss as the hand went away---she wasn't
even conscious of being picked up like a rag doll by the giant black man
as he carried her to the bed.
Then she felt a thousand hands touching her at once, felt the clothes
being pulled from her body.
Deke Vito knelt at the edge of the circular bed, putting her
stockings from her long silken legs, running his fingertips caressingly
down the velvet undersides of her thighs, slowly and so softly as he
pulled the sheer nylons from her trembling legs.
Black Jack had removed her blouse and was now raising her as he
unhooked the small fasteners of her bra. As he pulled it away and tossed
it to the floor there was a muffled gasp from both men at the unbelievable
perfection of her full, rose-tipped breasts.
They moved to each side of her to pull down the clinging skirt and
then, with a conspiratorial smile between them, they hooked their fingers
into the tight elastic waistband of her small, flimsy panties.
They eased them slowly and teasingly down her thighs over the full
swell of her hips and wetly away from the tousled mound of soft ebony hair
nestled between her thighs.
She arched her back, unconsciously trying to help them as much as she
could. They pulled the small wisp of sink from her ankles and tossed it
behind them.
Then, almost in unison, they began to run their hands over the
majestic glistening curves of her body. From each side of the bed they
reached for her, sliding their fingertips across the softness of her
shoulders, one hand down each arm and the others lightly across her
breasts.
"Ooooooooooohhhhhh!" Eager, desperate moans escaped her parted lips,
her tongue darting back and forth to moisten the dryness that parched her
mouth. Her whole body trembled as she felt a pair of hungry, heated lips
attach themselves to her reluctantly erect nipples . . . pulling . . .
nibbling at her.
She felt hundreds and hundreds of hands dancing across her heaving
belly . . . scraping across the screaming sensitivity of her goose-pimpled
skin.
"Ahhhhhhhaaaa . . . yes, oh no . . . Oh my God! . . . don't stop! . .
. please don't stop!"
Deke watched the shining ebony blackness of his accomplice's skin as
it contrasted the arching ivory body of the girl between them. He moved
away from the bed to undress and standing back, watched the great black
and white tableau before him. An almost unbelievable excitement arose in
him as he watched the giant Negro caress and kiss the sensuously squirming
girl.
Wheel he dropped his shorts to the floor and saw his straining,
throbbing erection---larger than it had ever been before he knew he had
never experienced anything like adventure he knew was coming.
He moved to his knees again, motioning to Black Jack to undress and
forcing her legs wide apart with his hands, he busied his head in the
downy softness of the tightly curled triangle of shadowed hair between her
open thighs.
Laura was raving now, making strange guttural noises as she tried to
reach the man's head with her hands and hold him there. It couldn't be
like this! Nothing could be like this!
She felt his tongue probing and delving into the almost hidden
opening, parting the glistening, moistened lips of her cunt. She could
feel him take the passion-hardened protrusion of her clitoris between his
teeth . . . feel him nibbling at it tenderly . . . running his tongue over
and across it . . . the hot furnace of his breath scorching up into her
belly as it bellowed into her eager, pleading vagina.
The huge Negro came back to the bed, and as though in a wild erotic
dream, she felt him take her ankles and bring her legs high into the air,
spreading them wider apart so Deke Vito could burrow his head and his
tongue even deeper into her open, moist cunt.
Laura's mind and all her senses reeled in a whirling of ecstasy and
lustful passion. The flames kept rising between her thighs, searing her
whole body as his tongue fanned them into a raging volcano. It wasn't
just the burning feeling of his tongue as it probed deeper and deeper into
the throbbing heat of her vagina, there was the sound of it. The urgent
liquid sounds that raced into the center of her mind, so much like the
sounds of a cock actually fucking into her.
Her alms flailed at the bed at her sides and her hips squirmed
violently as she tried to move her legs but couldn't. Her ankles were
trapped in the powerful grip of the giant Negro and she could only lie
there under the torturing caresses of Deke Vito.
"Ahhhhhhhhhaaaaaaahh! O my God! You're driving me out of my mind!"
The soft, husky moans filled the room as the shorter man continued to
delve further and further into the wet heat of the straining girl's moist,
contracting pussy.
"Ohhhh, please . . . please, I can't stand it! Dear God, I can't
stand it!" she cried out as he grasped the erectile firmness of her
clitoris between his teeth and tongue and rolled it salaciously around and
around in his mouth.
Then she felt the cool rush of air as he pulled away, and the
movement of the bed as he began to turn himself around.
Black Jack still held her ankles high in the air and the soft
squeaking of the bedsprings combined with her heavy breathing was the only
sound as the other man turned until he straddled her face and bent once
more to bury his face between her thighs.
The girl felt something brush across her face and opened her eyes to
find his huge, swollen prick only inches from her lips. She gasped at the
size of it, almost crying out in fear, when she once again felt his tongue
plunge hotly down inside her.
Greedily, almost insanely, she curled her hands around in between his
legs and reached for it. She raised her head, her ovalled mouth wide, and
encircled it with the heat of her lips---trying to capture its entire
length in her anxious mouth.
In her ecstatic haste she sucked it so deeply in the warm, saliva
filled cavern of her mouth that it almost choked her and in order to
regain her breath she began to feverishly run her tongue up and down the
soft underside, feeling it throb and pulse against her touch.
Tiny fires kept exploding with blinding ferocity in her brain as he
moved it in and out in rhythm to the probing of his tongue below.
"ARGHhhhhhhhhhhh!" the animal-like groans burst from her lips as she
tried to open her mouth wider and breathe in more air. She tried to
think, to reason what was happening to her, but her mind refused to accept
anything except the rolling waves of lust and passion that were erupting
inside her like a constant undulating earthquake.
Her lips and tongue stopped their gentle caressing and, as she felt
her climax raging towards a fiery threshold, she began to nurse and suck
the hot thickness of his prick with all her strength! Her cheeks hollowed
and swelled and her belly rose and fell frantically as she pulled at him.
Her lips were clasped tightly around its throbbing blood-filled head like
an elastic rubber band, sucking it desperately, to make it cum.
And at the same time, she could feel the violent explosion beginning
deep inside her and her fingers scratched crazily at the base of his
swinging testicles as she reached feverishly to hurry her climax.
Then it came!---The hot waves of boiling, creamy liquid pouring in
spasm after spasm into her mouth---and it was joined by the arching
trembling of her hips as her orgasm erupted . . . exploded in blinding
flashes of searing light and darkness . . .
Almost an eternity later she felt the man's weight lifting away from
her. She lay there barely conscious and tried to still the uncontrollable
quivering in her legs, the bed seemed to come up and wrap around her,
enveloping her in a soft cocoon of darkness and warmth---calming her and
allowing her to drift off into a state of unknowing peace.
A seeming eternity later, she could hear a man's voice in the
interminable distance.
"Okay, man, she's all yours and I want you to give it to her good
so's she'll remember this as long as she lives."
Then, again, she felt the gentle dancing of fingers across her thighs
and up to her breasts. They felt so soothing and tender and she lay with
her eyes closed, luxuriating in the erotic sensations that were once more
spreading through her sweat-glistening body.
Deke Vito stood at one side, watching for a moment before he went
into the bathroom. That little bitch is the wildest thing I've had in
years, he thought triumphantly. If I'da known she was going to turn on
like that I never woulda waited this long. He smiled softly to himself,
knowing that now he had young Mrs. Dutton exactly where he wanted her and
by the time the Negro got through with her and she regained consciousness,
she would be so shamed and humiliated at what she had done that she would
never resist him or any demands he might make on her again. And . . .
that sniveling little husband of hers would never have the courage of
object with all the money he owed him.
Christ! I'd better hurry with that shower, he suddenly thought, I
don't wanna miss any of this. He spent a few more seconds watching the
huge black man and the girl on the bed and moved reluctantly into the
bathroom.
Laura's back arched and she squirmed as she felt the pressure of the
hands on her body slowly increasing. She could feel them kneading the
softness of her flesh like dough, first her thighs and then the full
curves of her hips, moving over her like a sensuous Oriental massage as
she lay weakly on her back.
Her nipples hardened again as the fingers moved to her breasts and
she felt their ivory fullness being cupped in two huge palms, felt the
heat as her breasts were completely enveloped by the massiveness of the
hands that held her . . .
Her eyelids seemed so heavy and she strained to open them, to see the
gentleness of the man that touched her---to add the pleasure of sight to
the delicious senses of touch that filled her.
It took a moment for her eyes to focus and then she saw him over the
swelling curves of her breasts---saw the hands, the huge shoulders, and the
glistening ebony skin. As she stared at his contrasting blackness it took
a moment for her to realize who he was.
A scream started to build in her throat, but it was cut off by
another wave of ecstasy as his hands moved down her body again to cup the
raised triangular mound between her legs . . . he sat at her side and his
hands caressed and molded the sparse, hair-covered mound between her legs
as if to change its shape.
She stared at the broadness of his back, divided by the deep furrow,
and she saw that his skin was flawless and shining---and rippled with great
bands of muscles.
Then his hands began to move tenderly down the soft inner skin of her
thighs, and she threw her head back moaning and closed her eyes again---
reveling in the delicious sensations that raced through her eager body.
"SHhhhhhhh, Honey, Black Jack ain't gonna hurt you."
She heard the deep rumbling voice and realized that it was the huge
Negro that had spoken. Spoken to her! And then she felt an insane desire
to laugh. The giant black man could talk. Wouldn't it be something if
she went downstairs to tell of her discovery---and then explained how she
had found our!
She started to answer him, to tell him that she weren't afraid. That
all she wanted was for him never to stop teasing her with those huge,
gentle hands, but no words came out because his caresses started another
wave of trembling desire rushing though her.
She vaguely heard the low thunder of his voice as he moved up to lie
beside her and whispered soft sounds and words into her ear.
Then, she ran her hands exploringly and tentatively down his chest,
feeling his massive power and size. She moved her hand further down until
it touched the wiry curls of black pubic hair . . . then just slightly
further until her fingers enclosed the great throbbing shaft that rose
from the center of his loins.
My God! she thought in her drug induced delirium, I'll never be able
to take him. It's so big! Then, with passion driven courage, she almost
cautiously, ran her hand up the entire length of his throbbing penis,
trying to encircle it with her fingers---but they wouldn't reach all the
way around it.
His hands, the touch of such a huge man next to her, began to arouse
her almost beyond belief. Her legs began to tremble and quiver and she
arched for him to come to her---to shove it into her pleading body.
As she scratched her fingernails across the pulsing fullness of his
penis it seemed to grow even more, not steadily, but in a series of
slightly jerking pulsations.
"Ohhhh, please . . . do it to me . . ." she pleaded softly through
lust contorted lips, I want you inside me! You're so big . . . so strong
. . . Oh God, do it to meee . . ."
At her words he began to slide over on top of the girl beneath him
and positioning himself between her open thighs.
When she felt him kneeling on all fours above her she spread her legs
out wide as far as she could, drawing her knees up until they touched her
white, flaccid breasts trying to open herself far enough to accept the
huge organ that he was gleefully lowering toward her arching vagina . . .
She reached down with her hands surrounding his hardened cock with
her fingers to guide his mixture of fear and desire penetrating her entire
being.
"It's so big . . . God, I'm afraid . . . I can't, do it, I can't take
it!"
The words gushed forth deliriously as she tried to stop him, but it
was too late. The giant Negro was not going to let her go now.
"Don't you worry, little honey, I ain't gonna hurt you," he grinned
down at her helplessness through ivory white teeth. "I'm gonna go real
easy . . ."
And he lowered himself with the aid of her hesitant hands until the
smooth rubbery head of his cock touched the hot, moist opening of her
vagina. She felt the great, black shaft begin to part the soft, fleshy
slit and insinuate its way lasciviously between the smooth, hair-lined
lips of her cunt, lubricated already by the flowing juices of her aroused
body.
Her whole inside seemed to be stretching, expanding to receive him.
There wasn't much pain at first, just a straining belt of tightness
spreading through her loins, then it began to hurt her.
"OHhhhhhhh . . . Ohhhhh! No!. . . I can't stand it, it's too much .
. . Ohhh no." she screamed. Over and over again, twisting and writhing
beneath him as though he were impaling her with the hard, blunt end of a
barbaric spear.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain slowly subsided and was
replaced with a growing flood of lustful desire. He ventured deeper into
her, but so gradually that the increase was almost imperceptible and the
pain that would otherwise have been unbearable was erased by the hot
slippery fluids flowing from the walls of her wide-stretched pussy.
But, the huge Negro was still too monstrous for her and was unable to
completely bury his lust-swollen prick all the way down into the straining
wall of her tiny, tight vagina. When he found that he had probed as far
as he could go, there still remained almost two inches of his massive
prick outside her.
She held her knees spread apart as far as possible and raised her
hips even higher, desperately trying to absorb more of him, but it was no
use.
The man remained motionless for several seconds, allowing her body to
become accustomed to his great size, but she clawed at his back and tried
to get slim to move within her.
"Please . . . please! I want you to fuck me now! I've never felt
anything so big . . . so long . . . please!" Her words echoed against his
ears and he couldn't hold himself any longer.
The girl felt the muscles in his buttocks flexing as with a deep-
throated grunt he began to drive himself into her with great, powerful
stokes. She strained and squirmed up against the huge, hot shaft that
pounded relentlessly deeper and deeper into her arching body . . .
"Oh my God . . . My God! . . . you're splitting me open . . . you're
so big . . . so HOT!" Her cries filled the room as the great glistening
black body, dripping with sweat, thrust again and again, harder and faster
into the burning heat of her cunt.
Deke Vito stood there, still wet from the shower, in a silk robe and-
-listening and watching as Black Jack, throaty, animal noises coming from
his mouth, mercilessly drove his huge, throbbing cock mercilessly down
into the ivory-white body beneath him.
Though now only a voyeur, the gambler felt his passion rising as he
stared vicariously at the erotic scene before him. He watched until he
could stand it no longer and then began to stroke himself beneath the
folds of his robe. The cries and moans from the bed drove him into a near
frenzy and as the pressure mounted in his body his eyes closed in lustful
passion until they were opened by a loud erotic scream from the young,
flailing girl.
"Ooooooh, Ooooooh God, I'm cumming, I'm cummmming!" she cried,
grinding her churning buttocks tight up into the loins of the Negro
fucking her.
He came then, simultaneously with the girl as she jerked violently on
the bed and her screams echoed throughout the room. He watched the giant
man above her as he too shook convulsively, spurting his hot, liquid sperm
far up into her quivering belly, and finally collapsed upon the trembling
body of the twice-fucked girl beneath him.
The room quieted as her moans subsided gradually into silence and
there was only the wet, sucking sound of the Negro withdrawing from
between her legs and rising from the bed. In the stillness Vito realized
the girl had fainted dead away, her arms and legs spread obscenely out on
the mattress as though she were a mannequin devoid of all human mobility.
Now she's mine, all mine, he cackled victoriously to himself, and I'm
gonna make sure it stays that way.
* * *
She didn't know how much later it was as she awoke with her head
throbbing and myriads of confused memories tumbling in her mind. She
shook her head and tried to wipe away the hazy mist from her eyes.
There was only one dim light in the bedroom and it was several
moments before she realized where she was, and remembered what had
happened earlier. The young girl stumbled from the bed, feeling a violent
wave of revulsion shake through her as she saw the streaked stains of
semen covering her loins and thighs and the bedcovers strewn all over the
floor.
About fifteen minutes later she came out of the bathroom feeling a
little better. The shower had washed away some of the degradation she had
felt, though her body still tingled slightly especially around her thighs
and she had at least one thought that eased her self-disgust a little . .
.
I've paid my debt, she thought, I lost the bet but I've certainly
kept up my end of the bargain. Now he has to give me the contract for
Johnny to sign and forget the money that Johnny owes him.
As she dressed she heard soft laughter coming from the other room.
The living room. It was probably Deke Vito, and when the thought of once
again facing him after the obscene humiliations he had subjected her to
came to her she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. She angrily
wiped them away. That bastard! I'll get that contract and walk out of
here as if nothing ever happened---and I swear to God he'll never get near
me again!
Laura opened the door and stepped into the soft music and laughter in
the living room. Deke Vito sat on the couch, dressed once more in the
dinner jacket and satin-striped formal trousers. Either he or the other
man with him had apparently said something they thought was funny because
they were both laughing uproariously. The other man was a gambler Laura
had frequently seen around the casino.
Harry Goldman. An obesely fat man with great bouncing jowls that
gave him the appearance of a huge breeding hog. They didn't hear her when
she first came into the room and she stood there watching the two of them,
the dapper, greasy smaller man and the far one with his loud maroon dinner
jacket, lace ruffled shirt, and black stringed tie.
Harry Goldman was a notoriously wealthy man, rumored to be mired up
with the Mob, and one of the club's most prized customers. She'd seen him
many times at the crap tables and tried to avoid him ever since he reached
out and pinched her on the rear once so hard that it had left a large
purple bruise.
What a pair, she thought, they fit together beautifully. The two
most obnoxious men I've ever known, side by side.
Then it occurred to her that Vito had probably told Goldman
everything that had happened in the other room, and she felt her resolve
to face Vito defiantly starting to disappear. But, there was no other way
out. She had to see him to get that contract, to get Johnny out of the
trouble he was in. She moved forward.
Both men heard her and turned around. Surprisingly, they both stood
up and Vito moved toward the bar.
"Laura Baby, feelin' any better? Here, let me make you a little
drink." He picked up a bottle and turned to her again. "Hey, Baby, you
know Mr. Goldman, don't you?" He chuckled, and added, "He knows you."
"Hello, Laura. Sure I know you, never have been able to keep my eyes
offa you downstairs." The fat man's high squeaky voice came as a surprise
in a man so large.
"Deke, may I speak to you privately?" she said ignoring Goldman's
introduction and trying to keep her voice calm.
Vito walked over to her and placed a drink in her hand, talking as he
crossed the room, "Hey, baby, whaddya mean private? That's not polite.
Mr. Goldman's one of our best customers, sorta one of the family you might
say." He laughed and turned to the other man. "Ain't that right, Harry?
Besides, Laura Baby, me and Harry ain't got no secrets.
"No, Deke, I don't think we do," the man answered with a facetious
tone in his voice. "Unless Laura here wants to keep something from me."
"Aw, she wouldn't wanna do that. Laura's too nice a girl for that .
. . much too nice." He laughed almost mockingly. "The nicest girl I've
ever known, if you know what I mean."
She felt the anger boiling up in her. That Bastard! He had told that
disgusting man everything!
Without even thinking, she threw her drink straight at Deke Vito and
stood there watching it dribble down the front of his jacket. A moment
later her mind reeled with the force of his blow and her face stung
painfully.
"Laura Baby, you just made a big mistake. Yeah, a big Mistake!" He
wiped the drink from his coat with a handkerchief and spoke, trying to
keep the anger out of his voice.
"Now, you just sit down over there. I'm going to make you another
drink . . . and you're gonna drink it and listen carefully to what I say!"
The room was silent for a moment except for the clinking of glass and
the girl's soft, frustrated sobbing. The gambler handed her another drink
and then sat across from her, crossing his legs and carefully tugging at
his trousers so that he wouldn't ruin his crease. Then he spoke, "Part of
the bargain, kid. That's what you've fulfilled . . . just part of the
bargain. I mighta been a little easier on you, but you just did a very
stupid thing. Nobody throws a drink at Deke Vito, right Harry?"
"I wouldn't think so, Deke. It just isn't very nice. Doesn't show
the proper respect," the other man answered, a slow furtive smile curling
around his thick, liver-like lips.
"Yeah, respect, that's it. You see, Laura, I had plenty respect for
you . . ." he chuckled . . . "so much, as a matter of fact, that I even
told old Harry here how much I respected you." Then the gambler's voice
became very hard, "Yeah, when we made out little bet I never figured you
to be as good about holding up your end as you were. But, you did a
pretty good job, as I told Harry here, and I figured . . ." he paused to
sip at his drink . . . "I figured I'd give you the contract and the money
just like I said I would." He brushed at his coat again, holding it out as
if he wanted her to see it.
"But then you did this." He paused, thinking to himself how
perfectly she'd fallen into his hands. Her anger fit his plans exactly,
now that she'd thrown that drink at him he even began to feel a little
self-righteous.
"Yeah, when you did this, you broke off our bet completely." He was
interrupted by her heaving sobs. She'd started crying aloud as soon as
she realized what he was going to say.
"Shut up!" he shouted at her. "You ain't got nothin to cry about.
You ain't hurt, I'm the one with the ruined coat."
He came over and grabbed her by the shoulder. "You listen to me, and
I'm going to tell you how you can get outa this."
He pulled her out of the chair and led her over to the couch where
Harry Goldman was sitting.
"Sit here, Laura Baby, with old Harry while I explain what you're
gonna do."
She sat down wordlessly several inches from the fat man but he put
his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. She tried to move away
from his suffocating grasp but it was as if she had been trapped in a
vise.
"Just sit tight, Kid, Harry ain't gonna hurt you. He likes you as
much as I do. The gambler laughed softly and continued.
"Yeah, I was gonna let you go tonight with the contract and
everything but that drink changed that. Now, I gotta figure out what the
insult to my integrity is worth. Whaddya think, Harry?"
He turned to the huge round man on the couch. "You know what the deal
was, Harry, what do you think I oughta do with little Laura here?"
Harry Goldman squeezed her a little tighter and chuckled. "Well, I
wouldn't be too hard on her, Deke. She was probably just a little upset.
Still . . ."
Deke Vito laughed, and continued. "Yeah, but Harry, remember what
you said about respect. She oughta have a little more respect for a guy
what was going to be so generous to her, don't you think?"
The fat man just chuckled softly. It was like a great bowl of Jello,
Laura thought with inward disgust. His whole body ripples when he laughs.
"Deke, baby, I have an idea," the man at her side said in that high,
funny voice. "An idea about respect."
They were both laughing now, and Laura felt like a ping-pong ball
being batted back and forth between them.
"Yeah, Deke, maybe I could teach her a little respect one night, and
I'd even buy you a new jacket." The girl shivered and let out another
helpless, broken sob. The shame and degradation they were subjecting her
to was too much for her tattered nerves. The fat man reached over with
his other hand and patted her on the knee. "Don't worry, Beautiful, I
wouldn't hurt you. We'd just have a little fun, you and me, and maybe I
can talk old Deke here into giving you what you want. I gotta lotta
influence with him."
The fat man looked at the gambler. "Whaddya say, Deke? We can work
out something for little Laura here, can't we?"
The gambler laughed, and walked over to the bar, seeming to consider
it for a moment. "Yeah, I guess we probably could at that."
"No! No! I won't do it . . . I won't." The girl's cry broke the
sudden silence between the two men. "I won't do it! You can't make me!
Deke Vito turned from the bar. "Laura Baby, we're not trying to make
you do anything." Laughing, he turned to Harry Goldman. "Are we, Harry?"
"Why, hell no, I was just trying to help."
Deke walked back over to the couch and took her hand, lifting her.
And as he pulled her up she felt the man behind her pat her on her
buttocks, letting his hand linger and then squeezing her.
"Tell you what, kid. Let me get your coat for you, and then you can
go home and sleep on it. How's that?"
She felt herself being led to the door. In a daze she accepted her
coat and heard the door close behind---still able to hear the lewd,
triumphant laughter of the two men as the bolt clicked behind her.
Chapter 3
The girl didn't even remember coming down in the elevator or walking
through the casino. She had crossed the crowded streets almost by
instinct alone and it wasn't until she passed an all-night diner just
before her corner and saw the clock inside that she realized it was almost
two in the morning. God, she had spent hours there on that horrible bed .
. . and, she vowed . . . "I'll never do it again!"
Occasionally a streetlight would reflect against the streaked tears
on her face and the softness of her crying would hover in the night
darkness.
She wondered if Johnny would be waiting up for her, and if he was,
what she would be able to tell him. The whole thing seemed like a
terrible, unreal nightmare that had been dreamed up by a mad man.
She stumbled along, her eyes half closed---the dark sides of her
eyelids acting as a screen where she projected the terrible scenes of the
night before.
Her mind was flooded with contrasting feelings of self-pity and
anger. She tried to blank out the memories of Deke Vito and what she had
done but they kept forcing themselves into her consciousness. The
realization of everything that happened, the landlord, Deke Vito . . .
Black Jack . . . the repulsive leering of the fat man . . . how had she
done it? What had caused her to lose complete control of herself and
accede to their wishes? Two days ago, she had been almost a virgin,
untouched by anyone else but her husband, and now . . . now, she had taken
on three other men in quick succession . . . three men she didn't even
like. And they had fucked her, not made love to her, but fucked her like
some whore off the streets, without love, without respect, with nothing
but animal lust burning in their loins. God, where was it all going to
end? tumbled through her tortured thoughts.
She opened the door into their apartment, hoping that her husband was
asleep, and tried to still the soft sobbing that still shuddered her body.
She put her coat away quietly but the darkness was shattered by the
click and sudden brightness of the lamp by the bed.
"Laura, Honey, where have you been?" She turned to face Johnny who
sat up in bed wide awake.
"Laura, are you crying? Darling, what's the matter . . . please,
come here."
She moved awkwardly to the bed, to his outstretched arms, trying to
brush away the tears on her cheeks.
"Oh, Johnny, it was so horrible . . . Ohhhh, Johnny "
He jerked upright. "What? . . . Darling, what happened? Laura,
what's the matter? Where have you been?"
"Oh, Johnny, it was Vito . . . I'm so ashamed," the words came out
haltingly. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't know what to tell . .
. Black Jack . . . he couldn't know about Black Jack!
He tried to calm her down, and after a few moments the words poured
forth in a broken, husky stream . ..
"Johnny, you don't know what he did . . . I tried to get the
contract for you . . . Oh my God! It was so horrible! . . ."
He waited for her to catch her breath and as he did his mind whirled
with what she had just said. She hadn't gotten the contract after all.
All of his acting that morning, and she hadn't gotten it! He tried to
remain sympathetic as she continued, but all the time he wondered what he
was going to do now.
"Johnny, we . . . we gambled for it . . . and I lost. At least . . .
I lost the bet about going to bed with . . ." She started crying again,
in great heaving sobs.
Finally, she told him the whole story. At least it seemed like the
whole story, about Vito and what they had done, and about Harry Goldman.
Johnny had no way of knowing that she had left out the part with Black
Jack.
As she spoke, describing everything that had happened between her and
Vito, her husband wondered why he didn't feel more. He tried to picture
his lovely wife in bed with her naked legs wrapped around that slimy
gambler at the casino, but nothing seemed to happen. Just a heavy dull
sensation, he barely heard what she was saying and it didn't seem to
matter so much.
He'd been drinking heavily before she came home, anticipating his
delight when she would hand him the contract that meant so much to him. He
had known before when he had told her to see Vito that the gambler
wouldn't be satisfied with just words, but he had been able to close his
mind to any of the consequences and think only of his future and what that
contract would mean. Now, it was all gone. It hadn't worked! Goddamn
it! What was he supposed to do now?
Wait. What was she saying now? Something about Goldman?
". . . and they told me if I'd spend the night with him, I could have
what I wanted . . . Oh, Johnny, I can't . . . I can't . . . I just
can't!"
He was alive again! There was still a chance. He could feel the
lightness again. He could still get that contract, go to San Francisco.
God! Once he made it in the Fairmount, he'd never have to worry again.
If he just played it right, could get her to do it . . .
She lay there in his arms, waiting for him to hold her---waiting for
his anger at Deke Vito---waiting for him to hold her and tell he'd take her
away, that she'd never have to do anything like that again.
Her crying finally stopped and she felt hot and sticky. Dry and
empty. Why didn't he say something? It couldn't be that he . . .
He thought quickly. He had to say something, he could feel her
shoulders stiffening in his arms.
"Laura, Darling," he forced as much emotion as he could into his
voice, "Laura, Baby . . ."
"Don't call me Baby!" she screamed. "You're just like Vito!"
"Laura . . . I don't understand . . . I didn't mean anything . . ."
"Oh, Johnny, I'm sorry, it's what he always calls me . . . I just
can't stand to hear it."
He held her a little closer, stroking her hair. "Laura, it's all my
fault. I'm the one that forced you to do it. I didn't mean for anything
like this to happen." There, that's more like it, he thought. "I though
maybe he'd listen to you. I didn't mean for you to go to bed with him."
She lay there, feeling him stroking her tenderly, but she knew that
there was something forced in his actions, in his words. It was like the
morning before when she had felt that he was just acting when he had cried
on her shoulder. She felt a chill run through her and she extricated
herself from his arms and stood up.
"I'm going to get undressed, Johnny," she said. "I'll be back in just
a minute."
He watched her walk into the bathroom, knowing that he'd done
something wrong. She's probably too upset, he thought, I know I was
pretty convincing. What the hell, all she has to do is lie on her back
for a few minutes and it'll be the answer to all our problems. It wasn't
like she was losing her virginity or anything! The old man can't hurt
her. Shit! She can just close her eyes and pretend it's me. Fifteen
minutes; and it's worth five thousand dollars and a contract that'll put
us on easy street for the rest of our lives. All I've got to do is handle
her right. He turned off the light waiting for her to come back into the
room, and trying furiously to think of the right things to say to her when
she returned.
When Laura came back out of the bathroom she'd decided to talk again
to Johnny. She could easily have misunderstood the inflection in his
voice. After all, he'd probably been as upset as she was, and she
shouldn't have expected him to act naturally. She knew he loved her.
She'd just made a mistake, that's all.
She'd purposely left off her nightgown, and she stood there
silhouetted by the light behind her waiting for her to call her to him.
We can make gentle love, our kind of love, she thought, and wipe away all
this dirtiness I feel.
She could just barely see him there in the darkness as he slid up in
the bed, and she stood there posing---her breasts high and thrusting.
Then he called out to her, and she could hear the desire in his
voice. If he only knew, she thought, as she walked slowly toward the bed,
how wonderful the change in his voice makes me feel. I love him so much.
She stopped several feet from the bed waiting for him. He got up and
came to her, taking her gently in his arms. As he spoke to her she slowly
undid the buttons of his pajama top.
"Laura, I feel so terrible. Darling, I love you so much, I never
meant for anything like that to happen to you. I'll make it up, I
promise. We'll go away, nothing or no one will ever come between us
again."
She felt the happiness sweeping through her and held him against her
as tightly as she could. Then she stood back to tug the pajamas from his
shoulders before she pulled the drawstring on the bottoms.
Laura watched the pants fall to the floor. Shivers ran through her
as he ran his fingers lightly across the sensitive hardness of her
nipples, and she saw the swelling fullness of his penis as it pointed up
at her.
He pulled her fiercely against him, crushing her breasts against his
chest, and scraping his fingernails across the tingling surface of her
back. The great hardness between his thighs restricting them from getting
any closer.
She reached down, laughing, and grasped the swollen shaft in both
hands and using it as a handle pulled him toward the bed.
"Come, Slave," she laughed, "I have plans for you."
The light happiness in her voice was unmistakable and he knew that
everything would work out just as he wanted. As long as he made this
little session in bed something she'd never forget. Johnny knew the
immense appetite for sex Laura possessed, once she got started, and this
wouldn't he the first time he'd used it to his advantage. When he made
love with a purpose he could make himself last as long as he wanted---he
knew he was well endowed---and he also knew that when he made himself wait
and expended all his efforts solely on the satisfaction of the woman that
there were few that could resist his talents.
Chapter 4
Laura Dutton took another sip from the tulip-shaped champagne glass
and nodded imperceptibly as the fat man murmured something about going to
the restroom and got up from the table with what seemed to be an awful lot
of effort. Well, so far so good, she thought, as she watched him lumber
ponderously in the direction of the men's room.
She'd been a little curious when Goldman had ordered the waiter to
bring ice and both a bottle of champagne and a bottle of Cordon Bleu
cognac to the table and leave it. But now she was glad that he had. The
fat man with a light grace strange for a man so obese had expertly mixed
the wine and the brandy in the tall glasses and the result had been
delicious. French 75's he had called them, named after the famous WW-I
French anti-tank gun.
It was exactly the kind of drink she needed, very light and easy to
drink, and very potent. Although she hadn't been able to keep up with
Harry Goldman she had been able to drink quite a few and the second bottle
of champagne had already been delivered to the table.
The alcohol made it a little easier for her to hold up through the
evening and she was beginning to feel as if her promise to Johnny wouldn't
be as hard to keep as she had thought. Remembering Johnny, she thought
again of the wonderful time they'd had in bed. No one had ever made love
like that to her before. It had been almost unbelievable, she'd climaxed
over and over again. And afterwards, to make it even better, Johnny had
pleaded with her not to see Harry Goldman this evening but she hadn't
given in. She finally convinced him that it wouldn't hurt her just once
more. There was so much at stake, and she had promised him that
throughout the whole evening she would just pretend she was making love to
him, and not to the fat man who had just left the table.
She had even been surprised by Harry Goldman. She hadn't known what
to expect when she had finally gotten the nerve to tell Deke Vito that
she'd see Goldman tonight. But, all night long the fat man had treated
her more kindly and with more respect than anyone she'd ever gone out
with. Even Johnny, she remembered, whenever they'd gone out he seemed to
be less interested in her entertainment than his own, but with Goldman it
was different.
Soon after she had talked to Vito a messenger had given her a note
from Goldman telling her to get very dressed up and that a limousine would
call for her at nine.
Laura had gone home and changed into her finest evening dress and at
exactly nine a uniformed chauffeur had called for her, and taken her to
Reno's most exclusive supper club.
Goldman had been a complete gentleman all evening, and had ordered
her a delicious dinner, most of which she couldn't even pronounce.
He hadn't grabbed at her as he usually did, and his conversation had
been fascinating, though a little sad at time. She remembered feeling a
little sympathy for the fat man as a word now and then would uncover his
unhappiness at being so grossly heavy and unattractive.
The wine and French 75's that she was now drinking had lessened her
uneasiness considerably, even made her feel very good, and she didn't feel
too frightened about the rest of the evening.
She was determined to go with him wherever he planned and then get it
over as quickly as possible. Just as she'd persuaded Johnny, it would only
take a few minutes and couldn't make any lasting difference. It wasn't
like she was losing her virginity or anything.
Her reverie was suddenly interrupted by the return of Harry Goldman
and she felt a little sorry for him as she saw the trouble he had fitting
into the small curved booth.
"Whew!" he said as he brushed a linen handkerchief across his
perspiring forehead---something she'd noticed he had to do continually---
"I'm afraid they don't make these quite large enough for a man my size,
Laura," he said apologetically.
He chuckled bitterly to himself. "Husky." He looked at her through
his puffy eyelids. "That's what I call myself. "'Husky' sounds a little
better than 'fat' doesn't it?"
She knew he didn't really expect an answer but she saw the fleeting
expression of unhappiness flicker across his eyes and she felt as if she
had to say something.
"Harry, you shouldn't feel that way." She tried to put a light
hearted lilt in her voice. "I've always heard size was a sign of success
and prosperity. See, it fits . . . and I've never seen a big man as
graceful as you are."
She thought she could see the appreciation in his eyes at her words.
He reached across the table and tenderly took her hand.
"Thank you, Laura, I actually think you mean it."
They talked for a while longer. He amazed her with the amount of
liquor he was able to consume, and there was absolutely no sign of
intoxication. She tried to keep up with him, and as a result she was
beginning to have a little difficulty thinking clearly.
Then he called for the check and paid for it from the largest sheaf
of currency she had ever seen anyone carry.
As they stepped out into the coolness she was startled to see the
chauffeured limousine pull up the moment he put his foot on the first
step. It's amazing, she thought, anything he wants he gets, and he
doesn't even have to snap his fingers. Then she thought bitterly, that
even includes me.
They were driven for almost a half an hour and the closed back
compartment of the Rolls Royce was absolutely silent, except whenever he
offered her another drink from the portable bar.
Then she noticed the car pulling up a long winding driveway to an
immense house at the edge of a mountain lake. They stepped past the
attendant chauffeur and walked up a cobbled pathway to a huge set of
double doors.
Once again, with no sign from him, the door was opened by a uniformed
butler. Goldman dismissed him with a flick of his massive hand and led
her toward the rear of the house.
He stopped now and then to adjust a rheostated light switch and then
brought her into an enormous living room. She settled into the softness
of the couch and waited while he poured her another cognac.
He handed it to her and apologized as he left her alone for a couple
of minutes.
She sat there in the semi-darkness and wondered what was to come. He
had been so gentle with her all night that she knew there was nothing
really to fear, except possibly the actual act of making love to him.
Even that bothered her very little after the number of drinks she'd had,
and the knowledge deep within herself that she would be doing it for
Johnny and Johnny alone.
Moments later he returned. He exchanged his dinner jacket for a
voluminous silk robe and he was carrying something which he handed to her.
"Go through that door," he said, "and put this on. You'll be more
comfortable." She followed the direction of his arm and found herself in
a tremendous bedroom. Everything in this house seems to be oversized, she
thought in admiration and awe as she stoically and without hesitation
unzipped the back of her evening gown.
As she undressed she wondered if she shouldn't leave on her lingerie
but decided against it. It'll only take longer if I have to wait for him
to remove it, she thought. And, this is something I want to get over with
as quickly as possible.
Completely nude, she stood before the great mirror that rose to the
ceiling along one wall. She felt awfully good and even a little curious
as she wondered guiltily how he would be in bed because in spite of his
weight he seemed so smooth and suave at everything else. She slid
sensuously into the embroidered white silk robe, watching her image in the
glass before her. Her black, glistening hair looked wildly exciting
against the pure whiteness of the silk and she knew she'd rarely been more
attractive. Mr. Goldman was certainly going to get his money's worth and
she vowed that this time she would do nothing to endanger the agreement
she had with Deke.
Johnny, she thought, please forgive me. Darling, I'm only doing this
for you. She tried to remind herself again that this was actually only a
cold, hard business deal and nothing more before she stepped back into the
living room.
But, even so, she again felt the steady creep of guilt as an unwanted
wave of pleasure and anticipation rushed through her as she wondered what
he was going to be like when she lay naked and defenseless before him.
The fat man stood up for her as she came into the room, and as he did
she noticed he seemed to be a little unsteady. Well, it's about time
after all that drinking he's done, she thought.
He came over to her, bringing her drink, and led her to an odd
looking couch by the huge windows that overlooked the lake.
It was S-shaped, though horizontally, and looked like one of those
big reclining chairs except that it was wide enough for about three people
to sit on. He put her drink on one side and his on the other and then
helped her onto it.
It was wonderful. Curved to fit her back and curved again to fit
beneath her knees. "You'll like this chair, my dear, it does almost
everything except fly."
As if to illustrate his words, he pushed a button on the panel beside
him and she felt the chair begin to vibrate beneath her.
"Let me know when it's the way you like it," he said as he adjusted
the power of the vibrations.
Once, it almost bounced her off and then he began turning it down
again.
"There, that's perfect, Harry," she smiled softly at him, trying to
be as seductive as possible in order to get it over with quickly.
It really is a delicious feeling, she thought, every part of her body
seemed to be getting a massage at once. She lay back and luxuriated in
the movement and the warmth, there seemed to be heat also coming from the
surface of the chair.
They lay there for several moments . . . barely touching. Laura,
thinking of nothing except the tantalizing sensations racing through her
body, and the fat man thinking of nothing except the young, naked flesh of
the singer's wife next to him.
For a moment Laura was disturbed by the memory of the promise she had
made to Johnny, that during the whole evening she would think of no one
but him. She realized it had been hours since a thought of her husband
had crossed her mind. She decided it wasn't really her fault, she'd had
so much to drink and Harry Goldman was being so nice to her that she felt
strangely comfortable and safe.
Now, as she sat there on the chair with him she felt totally relaxed.
Soft moonlight filled the whole room and the cognac was smooth and warm.
She felt the fat man move his hand to her thigh but she didn't mind it at
all. Instead, because he was so huge it even felt a little comforting and
protective.
Laura put her hand on top of his and moved with him as he slid it
softly up and down her leg. The warmth of the chair and his touch soothed
her--- more than that, it strangely and disturbingly excited her. The
gentle caress of his hand and the feel of the silk gliding across her skin
sent low waves of desire through her body.
She began to wish that he would hold her more firmly, or at least
move the robe out of the way. Finally she reached down and parted the
white silk, separating it so that her whole left leg was uncovered---then
lowered his hand again so that he could move it again across the ivory
softness of her skin.
Laura felt him shift his weight and move closer to her, sliding his
hand in to the sensitive inner side of her thigh. Her skin seemed to
prickle with mild jolts of erotic sensation at his touch and she felt cool
chills race down her back.
He touched her so lightly, so tentatively that it almost seemed as if
he were afraid of her. It's so strange, she thought, in the casino or
around other people he's always openly pinching or feeling every girl he
can get his hands on---and now when he's alone with me he seems almost shy.
Then it occurred to her that at this rate it was going to take forever and
that she'd better hurry things along or she'd never get home and back to
Johnny.
The girl turned to her side facing the heavy man, knowing that as she
did her robe would fall open even further. The grace that she had noticed
in him earlier disappeared as he clumsily put his aim around her and
plunged his other hand roughly between her thigh again.
Suddenly she realized the tremendous strength the man possessed.
Under those layers of fat he was extremely powerful and she began to get a
little frightened for the first time since she had been with him tonight.
"Harry, don't hold me so tightly . . . you're hurting me," she
pleaded softly, but he didn't seem to hear her and she felt as if her
shoulders were being crushed beneath his grip.
"Harry, please . . ."
"Shut up, you stupid bitch!"
"Harry! . . . what's happened? What did I do?" She stared at him.
His eyes seemed to glaze over and he grabbed her even tighter. She
couldn't imagine what had happened to him so suddenly, unless it was the
liquor finally taking hold.
"It's not what you did, it's what you're going to do. And that's
exactly what I tell you to do." He pinched the soft flesh of her thighs
brutally to emphasize his threat.
"You've had your fun this evening, and now it's time for mine." He
got up heavily from the chair and then reached down and picked her up as
if she weighed almost nothing.
He never said another word until he threw her unceremoniously onto
the huge bed in the bedroom. She lay there trembling as he went around
turning on all the lights until the room was lit up like a gymnasium.
Then he came back to the bed.
"Take off that robe! I want to see that lovely body you've been
throwing at me all evening."
She was too frightened to do anything but obey him and her hands
shook as she undid the knot at her waist. Then, as she lay there
completely naked and trembling, he just stood looking down at her, a weird
look of undisguised carnal passion flickering across the thickness of his
lips.
"Now, undress me!" He towered over her at the edge of the bed and
waited for her to begin.
There was some great inexplainable rage in him and she was terrified
by the strange light in his eyes. Too frightened to protest or resist,
she untied the belt at his waist and reached up to pull the robe from his
shoulders, then she began to take the studs from his dress shirt. She was
trying to hurry but her hands kept slipping. Then he slapped her.
"Hurry!" he ordered, his tone cold and unyielding.
She finally slipped the shirt off, revealing his huge pendulous
belly. He looked like some great Buddha, completely hairless and pale
white. She fumbled at his trousers for several seconds before she was
able to get the zipper down and finally slide them down his legs. He
kicked them away from his feet and waited for her to continue.
She pulled down his shorts, repulsed by the grotesque figure that
stood before her. If she hadn't been so frightened he would have seemed
ludicrous standing there. He was wearing only his patent leather dress
shoes and knee-high black stockings that were fastened with garter belts---
and his penis looked so small, dwarfed by the huge overhanging belly.
"My shoes!" He yanked her off the bed to her feet, making her kneel
before him to remove his shoes. She crouched there trying to unhook the
garters, and as she did she could feel his penis which was slowly becoming
erect brushing vulgarly against the top of her head.
When she'd finally undressed him completely she started to rise but
he placed both his hands on her head and held her down on her knees.
Raising her just slightly until her face was only inches from the swollen
shaft of his obscenely protruding penis.
"Kiss it!" he ordered. And forced her to take him in her mouth. It
was only his great size that made his organ seem small, and she almost
choked as he forced it deep into her throat.
"Suck it" he said, and then chuckled. "And with a little feeling!"
He continued to drive himself into her mouth while her mind screamed
in the agony of what was happening to her. She kept trying to pull back
from his but each time he would move forward and it seemed as if she was
going to choke.
Finally, she felt the muscles in his legs quiver and tighten and she
knew he was about to cum. Immediately he began to force his prick faster
and faster into her straining mouth---and his fingers buried in her hair
were clenched tightly as he shouted to her.
"Faster! . . . harder . . . that's it . . . I'm cuummming . . . I'm
cuuuummm . . ."
His words were lost to her as she felt the hot, rushing spurts of
fluid jetting into her mouth. She had to swallow as quickly as she could
to avoid choking . . . he kept cumming and her head spun and she felt like
she was drowning . . .
Then the flooding liquid slowed, though his penis remained stiff and
throbbing for several moments more. It had been to much for her and as he
pulled himself out of her arching mouth the silver-grey fluid dribbled
from her lips and trickled lewdly down her chin.
She fell to the floor, crying, at his feet, great wracking sobs
filling the room.
She barely felt it as he picked her up and threw her back onto the
bed. He rolled her on her stomach and left her there with her soft,
flaccid breasts pressed hard down into the mattress.
She had lain there crying for several minutes, trying somehow to
understand what had made him change so, had made him so violent---and
trying to bury the disgust and revulsion she felt so that she wouldn't cry
out and ruin it all. Then, as she lay there trembling, she felt him crawl
onto the bed beside her.
Oh my God, No! she thought, I can't stand any more. She felt the
bed sag as he moved closer to her and then his hands as he began to run
them firmly up and down her back.
She lay there on her stomach trembling, closing her eyes as if she
was trying to close out the present, trying to make herself believe that
she was somewhere else.
The fat man slid further down on the bed and then raised himself to
straddle her thighs. He sat above her and then bent forward to run his
hands up her legs until he grasped the tensed mounds of her buttocks.
He began to roll them in his thick, pudgy fingers---kneading and
molding them like ivory clay. He massaged her like this for almost ten
minutes, never saying a word and hearing nothing but soft moans from her,
and then gradually he felt the tightened muscles in her thighs and
buttocks losing their tenseness and relaxing beneath his kneading fingers.
Laura lay there determined at first to resist any movement he made
toward her and then slowly succumbing to the warm pleasure that his touch
was giving her.
She didn't understand what he was doing to her, or why his massage
concentrated only on her buttocks. It was such a strange sensation to
have just one part of her body so gently caressed and touched---it was
strange but extremely pleasant. It seemed to have been going on for hours
and she could feel the warmth of his hands spreading through her. The
pain and disgrace that she had felt moments ago seemed to be disappearing
and she lay there completely relaxed as he continued to sun his hands and
fingers across her soft fleshy buttocks---encircling each in his huge
cupped palm and running his thumbs side by side down in between the
shadowed crevice separating them. Occasionally his fingers would brush
teasingly across the small, tight circle of her anus or, even further
down, touch the soft moistening lips of her vagina---and when this happened
small tremors of excitement would ripple up gently into her belly.
Harry Goldman sat above her, lifting his weight slightly with his
knees so that he wouldn't hurt her, and watched her body quiver each time
he touched her anus or cunt. He knew that soon he would have her in the
state of passion that was necessary for him to make love to her the way he
wanted.
He had always been grossly overweight. Even as a very small child he
had suffered the taunts of the other children---had always known the
torment that a only a very fat child experiences.
And it followed that he was almost twenty before he had even held a
girl in his arms---and he'd had to pay for that one. With no women as a
distraction, Harry Goldman had immersed himself in his one dedication---
making money---and now his immense wealth allowed him to buy almost any
woman he wanted, but it still filled him with blinding anger when he
realized that without his money no woman would even look at him.
It was this that made him act the way he did each time he found
himself with another woman he had had to pay for each time he realized
that the only way he would ever find love in his lifetime would be to buy
it.
The girl's moans snapped him out of his moment of self-pity and he
looked down again at the warm, voluptuous young body beneath him. He
watched her buttocks arching and falling beneath his touch and felt the
desire in his loins fanning into hot, licking flame again.
Laura was beginning to lose all control of her senses, his hands were
driving her crazy. She lay beneath him and squirmed with the excitement
of his almost magical touch, the fire burning deep down in her loins
fanned to greater and greater heights of creeping pleasure with each
passing second of the obscene teasing of his hands.
Oh God, she groaned down into the mattress, her face pressed tight
into it to stifle back the lewd, gutteral grunts of rising desire seeping
involuntarily from between her tightly clenched teeth. She had vowed to
herself that tonight, tonight she would not let her body run away with her
as it had done with others. Tonight her body would give all that was
expected of her but nothing more, her mind and soul were Johnny's, all
Johnny's and she just couldn't let those depraved, stroking hands conquer
her, she just couldn't!
But . . . the gloating man straddling her naked and vulnerable body
from behind was persistent and he could feel the victory he so desperately
desired just a moment away. Her buttocks ground lasciviously beneath his
caresses and he could sense the sudden urgency of the tremors rippling
sensuously across her flesh.
One more moment, he grinned, his thick, rubbery lips wet from the
anticipation of her total surrender.
One more moment . . .
"Ooooooooh God, what are you dooing to meeee," he gleefully heard her
moan down into the softness of the mattress, her voice thick with a forced
desire.
One more moment . . .
"Ooooooooooh, God!" she moaned again, twisting her head to the side
so that he could see the effect his relentless teasing of her heated loins
was having upon her. Laura, her buttocks churning involuntarily beneath
him fought with all her inner strength against the lewd, carnal urges now
racing almost out of control through her tortured body . . . but . . . it
was not enough . . .
Oh please, please . . . she thought . . . don't let it happen . . .
Dear God, don't let it happen like this . . .
And then it did!
It felt to the guilt stricken girl as though a great hot gush of
living flame suddenly licked out and curled its way deep up into the
steaming walls of her tortured vagina and to her sudden horror she found
the words she had sworn not use tumbling haphazardly from her moaning lips
. . .
"Ohooooohhh, do it to me," she hissed back at him, trying to turn her
head so that she could watch his hands working maddeningly back there
between her open thighs.
"Do what?" he grinned down triumphantly at her lust contorted face as
she looked helplessly and glassy-eyed back at the rising hardness of his
cock.
"Oh God, fuck me," she half whispered as though the words had to be
torn from her throat. "Fuck me on my knees."
"Okay, baby, and remember you asked for it," he spat victoriously
down at her squirming back, the sweat beginning to form in glistening
white drops on his upper lip. "Put your ass in the air," he commanded.
Without hesitation, she arched her hips even higher, and then felt
his hands reaching for her to pull her to her knees. She kept raising
herself until she knelt before him on all fours---she felt the weakness and
trembling in her legs and wished he would hurry, hurry and come inside her
. . .
He probed tentatively at her with his swollen penis, searching for
the hot moistness of her vagina, felt her buttocks clasping at his jerking
penis as he guided it with his hand down the smooth white crevice, past
her anus, to the eager hair-lined opening that awaited him.
He felt his prick brush across the softness of her pubic hair and
finally reach the pulsating lips of her vagina. His caresses had aroused
her to the point where the flowing juices inside her had completely
lubricated her with a hot, slippery wetness that made it easy for him to
worm his throbbing penis into the smooth tight gripping flesh between her
legs.
Laura almost screamed in pleasure as she felt him coming into her---he
seemed so hot, so goddamned big and hot!
"OHhhhhhhhhhhllhaaaa . . . yes! . . . yes, put it into me, all of it
. . . fill me with it, Harry! Fill me with it!"
The fat man grinned, his thick lips curling wetly back over his teeth
and began to fuck into her with long, powerful strokes---not hurrying, and
leaning back and watching his penis moving in and out of her vagina . . .
he watched the soft, pink flesh gripping him, clasping his prick and
pulsating against him. He felt the muscles deep inside her flexing and
constricting against his huge shaft as he fucked deeper and deeper up
inside her.
Then he began to withdraw from her. He gleefully watched her pushing
back on the bed, trying to recapture him---to retain the fullness of his
prick.
"Nooooo, don't stop . . . don't leave me . . . please, put your prick
back into me! Harry, I want you to fuck me . . . Harry, please . . ."
But he paid no attention to her muffled cries, withdrawing completely
and began to rub his prick up and down against the soft pools of whitish
liquid that had formed along the lips of her vagina. He did this over and
over again until his penis was completely covered with a thin film of her
hot, white passion.
"Ooooooh . . . Harry, please! . . . Please put it into me! . . ."
Don't tease me like this . . . don't tease me . . ."
Then he took his throbbing penis in his hand and guided it toward her
tiny, round anus, moving carefully, until its head rested against the
small, tight circle.
Suddenly, through the heat of desire, Laura realized what he was
going to do and cried out in fright. "No, Harry . . . No! . . . please,
it won't fit . . . you'll hurt me! . . . please don't"
But he grabbed the cheeks of her buttocks, pulling her hard against
him, and began to inch his way into the rubbery tightness of her rectum.
He paid no attention to her cries as he continued to force his way deeper
and deeper, feeling the taut elasticity, the rubbery stricture loosening
ever so slightly to accept the un-natural intrusion of his huge burrowing
penis . . .
I can't stand it! I can't stand it . . . he's going to split me in
half! Oh God, no, don't let him do this to me! Her mind screamed out in
agony as he kept driving deeper into her. She thought she was going to
faint from the pain, and then suddenly, before she realized it, he was all
the way inside her, and he stopped. There was no movement and the pain
slowly began to subside, leaving only a great burning fire inside her.
She felt his hand move down, and his fingers slide down under her stomach
and around into her pulsating vagina---she felt his fingers moving, moving
against the thin membrane that separated them from the huge cock that was
buried so deeply in her rectum.
And, she felt the fiery heat spreading through her tortured body as
the lustful desires of her entire being took control and urged him to
continue.
She began to move back and forth against him.
"Oh My God, Harry . . . it's so big! Bury it in me . . . Burn me
with it . . .! . . . Hurry . . . hurry! Burn me with it!
They screamed at each other, the words driving them into a wild, lewd
frenzy of uncontrolled lust and passion. A last blurted image of Johnny's
face flickered through her glazed mind and then burst into a thousand
pieces of fire and desire.
"Whore! . . . You bitch, can you feel me deep in your ass . . .
answer me, goddamn you!"
"Oh, yes . . . oh yes . . . you're tearing me in half . . . you're
fucking me to death . . . you're fucking me to death!"
She screamed words at him she'd never said aloud before. She shouted
every obscenity she'd ever heard at the fat man who drove into her with
such pounding ferocity.
"Faster . . . faster! Ram it into me! I want to feel it all the way
up into my throat. Split me with it . . . split me with it!"
And he shouted back at her. All the pain the loneliness he'd known
in his childhood came out in a flood of angry screams. He slammed his
body against her ass mercilessly, pounding against her and trying to wipe
out the ugliness he'd known all his life.
He heard her screaming that she was cumming, screaming for him to
hurry, and he felt the impending explosion rising in his belly as her
words drove him towards a wild, climatic frenzy . . . AHhhhhhmggghhhhh . .
. I'm cuuumnniinnngg . . . Harry, I'm cuumminngg . . . Oh my God! Hurry
. . . HURRY, HurRRYYYY!"
Then it burst inside them simultaneously. Great blinding explosions
ripping through quivering flesh, a boiling eruption of flaming lava
blowing skywards from wildly exploding volcanoes of lust and desire.
Laura screamed again as she felt the hot, white sperm ricocheting
deep up into her wide stretched rectum. It seemed to last forever, colors
and flames erupting over and over again, driving her into senseless
exhaustion. As she fell forward on the squeaking bed, her breasts pressed
tight down into the swaying mattress
Then it ended. Ended in the quivering collapse of two drained and
helpless bodies. And a huge shaking mass that fell onto the trembling
softness beneath it. It was over. Over and done.
Chapter 5
"Driver," the exhausted looking girl said for the second time.
He couldn't hear her, and then she saw the sliding panel that
separated the passenger compartment from the driver's seat of the Rolls
Royce. Sliding it open, she spoke again.
"Driver, don't take me home. Take me to the Casino." And then fell
back into the seat and squirmed slightly to ease the pain down between her
buttocks. Her mind recoiled completely from any memory of what had
happened to her. She could only lie there in the comforting darkness of
the silent car and try to concentrate on the soft music from the stereo
system.
She was going to the Casino to see Deke Vito, to get the contract for
Johnny---and then she was going away. She'd tell Johnny what had happened,
how horrible it had been, then she'd go home for the two weeks it would
take until he began his engagement in San Francisco. She loved him so
much and would hate to be away from him that long, but she couldn't face
another day in the casino. Couldn't face the thought of ever seeing Deke
Vito . . . or even worse, the possibility of ever facing that horrible fat
man again who had taken her in the most degrading way possible . . . and
made her grovel for it.
The sleek silver and grey Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the
casino, and the chauffeur whose name she'd never even heard came around to
help her out. She wondered if he even had a name, and she wished he
hadn't stopped in so obvious a place, under all those lights. She felt
that anyone who saw her would know exactly where she'd been and what she'd
been doing.
She walked into the brightness of the casino, through the milling
throngs of tourist gamblers, and looked for Johnny. Then she realized
that it was late enough for him to have already finished his last set and
decided that he'd probably already gone home.
She still looked for him but found him nowhere. And she wished with
all her heart that he'd been waiting there for her, that it could be he
that went to see Deke Vito instead of her having to do. Well, it doesn't
matter, she thought, this is the last time I'll ever have to see that
horribly greasy man again.
Laura Dutton pushed her way through the crowds at the tables,
searching for Deke Vito. But he wasn't at his usual crap table and she
couldn't find him in any of the restaurants. Finally, one of the cocktail
waitress whispered that she thought he was upstairs in Mornay's suite. It
seemed that the casino owner had brought in a select crowd and they'd all
gone upstairs for some private gambling. Mr. Mornay was a legendary figure
around the clubs, mostly because no one ever really saw him. Word would
just come down that The Boss was upstairs and whatever he ordered would be
sent up.
The employees of the Casino knew that whenever he used the closed
suite upstairs it was for some very high-stake gambling with people that
didn't want to be seen downstairs. And Laura knew that it was very likely
that Vito would be up there running errands or whatever he did for Moray.
She went to one of the house phones and asked that a call be put
through to the suite's special switchboard. After giving her name it
seemed like several moments before she heard Vito's voice at the other
end.
"Well, hello Laura Baby. Have a nice time? She felt a shudder of
disgust pass through her at the sound of the knowing laughter in his
voice.
"Come on up, kid. I'll have Black Jack let you in."
She rode up in the it elevator and wondered how it would be to face
Black Jack and then Deke Vito. But, she shouldn't have worried about the
huge Negro, because as he opened the door for her there was absolutely no
sign of recognition. He just nodded slightly to her and taking her arm,
led her through the crowd to the table where Deke Vito was buried in
conversation with several men whose faces Laura recognized from the
newspapers.
"Laura Baby, just have the black boy here make you a drink and I'll
see you in a moment." At the words 'black boy' Laura felt the huge hand
at her elbow tense momentarily and then relax. And, turning, she saw an
intense shadow of hatred pass across the giant Negro's face. Then he led
her back to the bar and poured her a drink.
She sipped her drink and looked around the room. The crowd wasn't
very large but it probably represented more money than everyone downstairs
combined. She recognized several movie stars, older men who had once been
the idols of millions, and other men in the room seemed to have been cast
from a common mold. All a little fleshy looking and obviously extremely
prosperous. And interspersed amongst the men were half a dozen beautiful
girls. The latter caught her attention for a moment until she realized
that they too all looked alike. Each one was tall and lovely, and each one
was a little too trashy and hard looking as though they had really been
around.
Call girls, she thought correctly.
It probably wouldn't have surprised her very much if she had known
that the stable of beautiful girls was run completely by Deke Vito. Each
of the larger casinos found it advantageous to have a few girls on tap for
their better customers. The customers never had to pay for their favors,
the casinos picked up the tab. And, it was Deke Vito who handled the
procurement for the customers of the clubs owned by Mr. Mornay.
Even after her evening with Harry Goldman Laura Dutton remained
spectacularly attractive and as she wandered around watching the action at
the tables, she attracted the attention of every man in the room. And,
particularly the attention of a tall silver-haired man a the center
roulette wheel. The man was Cassis Mornay, one of the most powerful man in
Nevada gambling circles.
It was almost an hour before Deke Vito came over to her and handed
her a large Manila envelope.
"Here you are, Laura Baby. A little something for you and Johnny.
Now, get outta here."
She snatched the envelope from him and tried to think of the
appropriate words to thank him, but he had already returned to his table.
Black Jack helped her on with her coat at the door, and as it closed
she heard him say something to her in that rumbling bass voice.
In the elevator she tried to remember what it was. It seemed like:
"I'm awfully sorry, Missy."
She got out of the elevator and hurried out of the casino. She
walked a half block to an all-night diner and took a booth in the rear.
Then, as she sipped her coffee, her fingers trembling as she opened the
envelope. She just wanted to see the contract that had streaked such
havoc in her life.
There seemed to be several papers in it and she shook it until they
fell into her lap.
Her anguished cry startled the other people in the restaurant but
none of them paid enough attention to the brunette in the back booth to
see her tears as she thumbed through the unbelievably obscene photographs
in her lap.
Laura's mind screamed in disbelief. It couldn't be! He couldn't
have done this to her!. . ..
Something seemed to snap inside her, and she just stared into the
distance, the tears streaming down her cheeks. She no longer saw the two
figures so carefully depicted in the photograph---one, so white and eager,
and the other black. The other photographs were even more graphic,
showing her widely distended mouth as a man's swollen penis plunged wetly
into it.
Then she picked up the small slip of paper that had also fallen out
of the brown envelop---and through the blurred haze of tears she read the
typewritten words:
TOMORROW AT 8:30 AND WE'LL TALK ABOUT THE NEGATIVES.
P.S. YOU PHOTOGRAPH VERY WELL.
Without even knowing what she was doing, she ripped the note and the
photographs into shreds. She wanted to tear them out of her memory and
then she realized that until she held the negatives there would always be
more copies of the horrible pictures to haunt her.
She gathered up the scattered pieces and stuffed them into the
envelope, and then walked out into the darkness. There were no more tears
in her and she didn't even remember moving through the dimly lit streets
until she reached the door of her hotel
She stumbled blindly through the dark hallway and almost fell as her
foot bumped against a body at the foot of the stairs.
"Ohbhbhhhh . . ." The moan startled and frightened her and she fell
back against the wall--- then her eyes slowly picked out the crumbled form
on the floor.
At first she thought it was some drunk who had staggered in from the
outside and passed out on the stairs. She tried to step around and then
she beard the soft mewling cries of pain. As she bent to help him, he
turned and the dim light exposed his face.
It was Johnny!
She screamed, and tried to pull him to his feet. He stood for a
moment and fell to his knees. "Laura . . . honey, is that you? Laura, I'm
hurt . . ."
"Please, Darling, get up. Lean on me." She pulled him back to his
feet and together they were able to make it to their apartment. The
pounding of her heart drowned out his agonized moans as she helped him to
the bed.
Then she turned on the light and ran to his side. "Johnny, what's
happened to you? Darling, what happened. She searched his face
frantically for injuries but there were none then she saw his clothing.
His suit was filthy as if he'd been rolled in mud, and through the tears
in his shirt she could see the great, raw bruises on his chest. She tore
his clothes from him and almost fainted when she saw the terrible damage
to his legs and chest---and around his neck on each side were two darkened
swellings oozing blood.
". . . They said I'd never sing again, Laura. My throat . . . they
said they're going to ruin my . . ." his voice trailed off and she
couldn't hear him.
"Darling, who? . . . who said you'd never sing . . . who did it!"
Vito's boys . . . they grabbed me outside . . . they kept kicking me,
over and over . . . they told me that nest time they'd go for my throat."
He kept moaning, and she could see that he was almost in a state of
shock. "SHhhhhhh . . . Darling, don't talk. I'll be right back."
She ran to the bathroom to get some hot towels to clean his cuts, and
in a while he was able to tell her what had happened.
Three of Deke Vito's men had beaten him up, telling him they were
delivering a message from the gambler. They'd told him Vito wanted his
money, that Vito was going to take it out in trade with Laura. And that,
if Johnny and Laura had any idea of running away or going to the police
they'd come after Johnny one more time. Only the next time they were
going to fix it so he'd never sing again.
Johnny kept rambling on, crying and holding onto her like a lost
child and it was almost two hours before she could get him to sleep---and
then only by holding him and rocking him back and forth in her arms.
Chapter 6
Laura watched her husband replace the microphone on the stand and bow
to the audience. Many people in the large cabaret closed stood and
applauded and Laura felt the tears filling her eyes. It's so rotten, she
thought, he's the greatest singer in the world and he's being torn apart
by that bastard Vito!
She began to wonder what would happen if she ran up onto the stage
and told everyone in the audience what the gambler was doing to Johnny and
her---if she made Johnny take off his shirt and show them the great, raw
bruises that covered his chest and ribs. And then she remembered what she
had read lately about human apathy, about crowds standing by in New York
and watching a woman get raped and killed, the bystanders doing nothing
because they 'didn't want to get involved.' Damn them, if she told them
about Deke Vito the audience would probably just get up and leave mumbling
something about it being someone else's problem.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry, the bartender, as he reminded
her that it was almost eight-thirty.
"Mrs. Dutton, are you crying?" There was genuine concern in his
voice as he stared at the pain-stricken expression on the young girls'
face. "Is something wrong, is there anything I can do?"
"What? Oh, Harry, no, there's nothing . . . I'll tell you about it
someday. I promise I'll tell someone!" she said cryptically.
He looked wonderingly after her as she abruptly left the bar and
walked toward the elevator. It's Deke Vito, he guessed correctly. I'll
bet that son-of-a-bitch finally got to her.
As he walked back down to the customer at the other end of the bar he
hoped he was wrong. Harry was one of the few people in the casino who was
aware of Deke Vito's activities. The bartender had been working that same
bar for so long that there was very little that went on in the club that
didn't eventually reach his ears.
I'm sure it is, he thought again, Vito's probably holding Johnny's
gambling over her head and making her work for him. I sure like that
little girl, and if I find out that that bastard's putting the screws
136
to her---maybe I'll return the favor. Yeah, maybe I'll tell Laura Dutton
a few things that could be very embarrassing for Deke Vito.
The bartender went back to work, but as he did he made a resolution
to himself to talk to the singer's wife and find out if his suspicions
were correct.
A bartender is forced to turn a sympathetic ear to most of his
customers, and many of the girls that had worked through the years for
Deke Vito had stopped in at some time or another to cry on Harry's
shoulder. Harry had listened to what the girls were forced to do, and
he'd also found that Deke Vito bad a weakness. The bartender knew that
the casino, Mr. Mornay in fact, paid for the girl's services whenever they
were sent up to one of the big-time gamblers---but Harry also found out
that Deke Vito had been cheating the casino. He'd told Mornay the girls
charged one price and then made a substantial cut off the top before he
gave the girls a smaller amount.
Harry knew that information relayed to Mr. Mornay could make things
very unpleasant for Deke Vito and had saved it in case the gambler ever
tried to make things rough for him. And, now he'd decided that if Veto
was hurting Laura Dutton it might be the time to pass along a few facts to
the casino owner.
He had no doubts about what Vito would do to him if he found out
where the information had come from, but he'd watched what that greasy
sonofabitch had done to too many young, innocent girts . . . married or
not.
* * *
Laura's mind was numb with anger and pain as she stepped out of the
elevator on the top floor. She took a tissue out of her purse and wiped
the tears from her eyes and touched up her make-up before she rang the
doorbell at Mornay's suite.
I don't care so much anymore about those photographs, she thought, I
just can't let him hurt Johnny. I'll do what I have to, but I'm going to
find some way to get back at that bastard. I wonder what sort of treat
that greasy pig has in store for me tonight. I'll get him. Oh God, I
swear I'll get him!
It was Black Jack again who took her coat as she stepped into the
huge living room. It's strange, she thought as she looked at the giant
Negro. Even after what happened that first night, somehow I feel he's my
friend. The only one I have up here.
She smiled at him, "Good evening, Black Jack."
"Good evening, Missy." That great rumbling voice was so low that no
one else in the room could have heard it. Laura wondered it she was still
the only one that had ever heard him speak
She was a little surprised by the scene before her. Laura had thought
that she would be the only one up there tonight, but there were about ten
other girls talking and drinking, some of them she recognized from the
last time she walked into this room
"Black Jack, please make me a drink. A strong one!" She turned to
the huge man. "What does the greasy bastard have planned for this
evening?"
"Another party, Missy. Another bad party." He took her elbow and
led her to the bar. Silently, he mixed her a drink and then as he handed
it to her: "Take care of yourself, Missus Dutton."
"Hey, girls Look! Look at the new one."
Laura heard the woman's strident voice, and then saw everyone's eyes
on her. She tried to return their stares calmly but felt the chills run
down her back and felt the weakness beginning in her knees. Finally, she
turned her back to them and tried to collect her thoughts as the sipped
her drink.
How was the going to do it, she thought. Whatever "IT" was. Laura
didn't know exactly what was expected from her. She hadn't seen any men
yet, not even Vito, but she knew that pretty soon that would change. What
do they do, I wonder, herd the lechers in like cattle for feeding?
She turned at the touch of her shoulder. A girl had tapped her, a
beautiful blonde girl who looked about twenty-two.
"Hi. I'm Rita, what's your name?"
"Laura . . . I mean . . ."
"That's all right, Laura. We don't really care what your real name
is. Nobody ever uses their real name."
"Laura sensed the warmth and friendliness in the girl's voice. It
made her feel a little better, and she relaxed as the girl took her arm.
"Come on. Let's sit down."
She followed the girl over to the couch, feeling a small laugh inside
as she wanted to ask what a nice girl like her was doing in a place like
this.
"You're new, aren't you?" the girl asked her casually as she raised
her glass in a toast.
"Yes, I've never been to a party like this before." There was a
tremor in her voice as she spoke.
"Hey, you're scared, aren't you. How in the world did Vito ever get
you to . . . well, never mind, it's none of my business." The girl, Rita,
nodded to Black Jack to bring them another drink. "Listen, don't worry,
there's nothing to be afraid of."
"Rita, what do they do? What happens here later on?" Laura forced
herself to ask almost fearful of what the answer was going to be.
The girl laughed. "Well, other than the obvious, nothing much. We
just stand around for a while and watch the tricks gamble, and tell them
how brilliant and handsome they are."
"Where do they come from, the men, I mean. Who are they?"
"Gamblers mostly. Or some special friend of Vito's or Mornay." She
paused. "And actors too. Hey, guess who I was with last time? Rita
actually seemed to be waiting for her to guess, then she added very
proudly: "Hal Wilson!"
Laura was a little surprised at the mention of the legendary
financier, then the girl continued:
"I was so surprised when he picked me. Imagine . . . Hal Wilson!
And you wouldn'ta believed it, he was so nice. Wow! and afterwards, that
man sure knew how to play in the sack. I was beginning to feel like an
acrobat."
Laura listened as the blonde girl went into great detail about her
adventures with Wilson.
". . . and we were in the big bedroom, the one with the round bed . .
. you probably haven't seen it yet . . . and . . ."
Laura almost stopped her to tell her she was wrong, that she had
photos to prove it, but the girl was completely engrossed in her story.
". . . and, then he wanted another girl, Lily---and she came in too."
She went on to describe what had happened with the three of them, finally
finishing as she pulled Laura over and whispered softly: "But he told me
afterwards I was the best. Don't tell Lily, but he called her a whore!"
Laura laughed, and saw the puzzled look in the girl's eyes. She knew
the girl wanted to ask her why she'd laughed but they were interrupted by
the sound of the door opening.
"Come on, Black Jack, pour the girls some more champagne. We want to
have a lively little party tonight, don't we girls?" Deke Vito's voice
hushed the feminine chatter around the room and no one answered him.
At least, Laura thought, I'm not the only one that doesn't like him.
While Vito walked around talking to each of the girls and patting or
pinching them, it gave her a chance to take a closer look at the other
women in the room.
It's strange, just like the other night. They all look alike; short
or tall, blonde or brunette, they all look and sound the same. And I
guess this must be the cream of the crop, she thought. All of them really
are extraordinarily beautiful.
"Laura Baby. I'm so glad you could come."
That Bastard!
"Girls, I want you to meet Laura. I thought it was time to give you
a little competition. Remember when you used to look like that? You bags
are all getting tired and worn out."
Laura saw the others stare at her, even felt the girl stiffen at her
side, and knew that Vito had just made a lot of enemies for her. It was
true, she thought, that I do look a little better than they do---or at
least, not as hard and brassy---but I wish he hadn't said anything.
As the giant Negro poured champagne in everyone's glasses the talk
picked up again, and the nattily dressed gambler walked over to the couch.
"Yeah, Laura Baby, I'm glad you made it. Buzz off, kid," he waved a
hand at the girl sitting beside her.
"I figured when you saw those pictures you might decide to join us."
He stopped, and then continued: "and I'm sorry about Johnny, but don't
worry. You two stay in line and he won't get hurt anymore."
She turned her head away from him. She knew that if she had to look
at his fat oily face she wouldn't be able to control her anger.
Finally, he grabbed her chin brutally and spun her head around.
"You bitch! You listen to me when I'm talking, understand? He
sneered contemptuously, "Maybe I'll be able to think of something special
for you tonight to teach you your place!"
He checked his watch angrily and walked away from her. Laura watched
him, wondering what he'd meant by his last remark, and held up her drink
for Black Jack to refill it.
She was watching the door several minutes later, waiting for the
'guests' to arrive, when it opened and a tall grey-haired man walked in.
She heard one man deferentially call him Mr. Mornay and watched him survey
the room. His eyes touched hers momentarily before he walked over to join
Deke Vito.
They talked for a while, apparently going over the plans for the
party, and then the gambler brought him over to the couch.
"Mr. Mornay," Vito said servilely, "this is Laura, the new one you
asked me about."
"Hello, Laura, it's a pleasure to meet you." She was surprised at
the warmth in his voice. Strangely enough, he seems to mean it, she
thought.
"Thank you." But he had already walked off with Vito to talk to
someone else. Then she saw him leave a few minutes later.
During the next hour the door seemed to open continuously, and soon
the room was quite crowded. There was a lot of liquor and laughter and it
seemed like any other cocktail party Laura had been to, except for the
gambling in the other room and the sprinkling of famous florid faces she
recognized from newspapers and magazines.
Actually, it was quite pleasant. No one had made any unusual
advances toward her and the men that had spoken to her seemed very polite.
But, she could feel a strange tenseness or excitement in the smoke-filled
air and she knew it wouldn't be very long before the atmosphere changed.
I wonder how they do it, she thought, do they just come up and grab you by
the arm and drag you into a bedroom?
She wandered from one room to the other, catching Black Jack each
time and having her drink refilled. She was fascinated by the gambling in
Mornay's private casino. Laura had never seen such large sums of money
cross the tables and finally stopped trying to count the size of the bets.
Nobody seemed to worry about money at all. The men just laughed as
the dealers or croupiers raked in the large stacks of chips and then the
men replaced them with another just as large or larger. She realized that
most of the girls had more or less attached themselves to one of the
gamblers, and she watched them as they giggled at the hands that were
beneath their skirts or brushing across their breasts.
There were several men there that were either too old or too intent
on their gambling to pay any attention to all the feminine pulchritude
around them, but Laura knew that unless she kept moving from one room to
another she wouldn't be able to avoid being latched onto herself.
The girls all seemed to be drinking champagne and the men bourbon or
scotch, but she finally decided that the champagne was too slow in
bringing her the alcoholic numbness she was searching for. She switched
to straight brandy, and soon, she began to feel a little more at ease.
Even when one of the more obnoxious men pinched her painfully on the
rear she was able to laugh it off coyly and escape from him as he turned
momentarily back to his betting.
The party was already several hours old before she began to notice
the change coming over the crowd. The betting began to get more reckless
and the laughing and shouting increased to a deafening roar. She
recognized the glazed drunkenness that was settling over the gamblers and
the girls, and the two cocktail waiters were hard put trying to keep up
with all the shouted calls for drinks.
The brandy was working very well and she, too, was getting a little
unsteady on her feet and could feel a slight numbness in her tongue.
She flinched at a sudden touch at her elbow, and turned to look into
the grinning face of Deke Vito.
"Laura Baby, don't look so sad." He spoke to her in a soft voice
that was strangely gentle. "Laura, it'll be easier for you . . . I mean,
this being your first party like this . . . if you'll have several
drinks."
She started to point at the brandy in her hand when he took the glass
and replaced it with another.
"Here, this is imported. It's a little stronger and it'll make you
feel a little better."
She took the glass without arguing, wondering at the change that had
come over him. He left her after patting her on the shoulder, and she
tasted the drink. It had a slightly reminiscent flavor, but she couldn't
remember where she'd tasted it before.
She stood there sipping at her drink, and after a few minutes she
felt a great lassitude slipping over her. The liquor made her feel so
warm and alive. Swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music, she watched
the enlivened crowd at the tables. Though she stood only a few feet from
them she felt as if she were a spectator, in another room or watching
through a great window. The noise and laughter seemed to be filtering
through a softening haze and the people moving gracefully in slow motion.
She watched one of the girls removing her clothes in a bumping parody
of burlesque striptease, and she felt the heat of her own clothing and she
found herself wishing strangely that she, too, could rid herself of her
constricting cocktail dress.
The sight of so many men and women caressing and pawing at each other
aroused strange sensations of excitement and desire, sensations that raced
through her like a small, growing blaze.
She had seen the circulating waiters pouring drinks for everyone from
a single cut glass decanter, and in a blurred way it occurred to her that
the drink Deke Vito had given her had something to do with the way she
felt.
Then Laura saw the giant Nubian, Black Jack, tossing huge, red velvet
pillows on the floor in the middle of the room. She wondered what they'd
be used for, and she heard the soft rustled whispering as the man arranged
what seemed to be a circular velvet arena with them.
Then she heard Deke Vito trying to quiet everyone. The raucous
laughter and shouting at the tables was stilled as everyone stopped
gambling and tried to find a seat. The huge rounded bed sank under the
weight of about five couples and others settled themselves in a circle
around the large red pillows.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the man standing in the center broke the
silence, "I think it's time we turned our thoughts from money to the more
important Joys of life."
He paused, grinning at the murmurs of assent. "Before we each go our
individual ways," Deke Vito laughed aloud, "I thought I might be able to
provide a little inspiration. Yeah, a little inspiration for the rest of
us."
Laura glanced nervously around her and thought she saw a slight
flicker of fear pass across the other girls faces and then she looked back
at Vito.
He turned to the huge black man behind him. "Black Jack, why don't
you go get ready while we have our little drawing."
The man left, and Vito turned back to the seated crowd. "Gentlemen,
would one of you be kind enough to pull a name out of this bowl?" He held
out a large silver bowl with several slips of paper in it to the man
nearest him.
Taking the proffered slip of paper from the man's hand, he read the
name aloud:
"Jacqueline!"
There was a puzzled murmur as everyone looked around, and then a
small, lovely redhead was pushed forward until she stood before him.
"Ah, yes, Jacqueline . . . gorgeous, isn't she? he added as he turned
to the men. The girl laughed and kissed him on the cheek Laura could see
that the small girl was a little puzzled, but too drunk to really care as
she stood posing provocatively before the rapt audience.
"Jacqueline, you'll do just fine. 'Course, you're still a little too
dressed." He smiled wickedly and continued, "Why don't you let the men
here give you a hand in removing some of those things."
He nudged her toward the man just in front of her, and she stood
smiling and obligingly as he unzipped her green dress
Then, the men moved forward anxiously and each one eagerly helped to
remove her clothes. The room was filled with loud laughter and cheers as
each garment was thrown into the air, and then quieted when the girl stood
there completely nude.
The noise and excitement had sobered Laura slightly. I wonder what
they're going to do to that poor girl, she thought, but noticed that the
girl, Jacqueline, didn't seem to be worried at all as she stepped back
laughing to stand beside Deke Vito.
The crowd edged forward and waited for Vito to speak again. The
tension and lust hung in the air like a great cloud as they watched the
gambler run his fingertips across the girl's firm, erect nipples.
"How about you, kid? You ready for a little fun? He chuckled as he
posed the question to the girl at his side.
"Sure, Deke, you know me. I'm always ready. What do you want me to
do?" But, the answer to her question was readily apparent as a door
opened and Black Jack stepped into the room.
The giant black man wore only a white silk robe and looked like an
enormous prize-fighter as he strode into the center of the velvet cushion
circle.
A multi-voiced gasp filled the room as everyone realized what was
about to take place. And then there was a wild, excited clamor as Deke
Vito helped the Negro remove his robe.
Even Laura, who only vaguely remembered having been made love to by
the giant Negro, was started by the man's phenomenal development. My God!
I couldn't have taken any man that big, she thought, it's physically
impossible.
The little redhead, seeming even smaller by comparison with the
tremendous man, shrank away from him---and looked as if she wanted to run
until Deke Vito grabbed her.
"Hold on, Jackie, baby, we won't let him hurt you," he grinned
obscenely.
Black Jack picked the hesitant girl up and then, kneeling, he laid
her down on her back on the pillows
Laura stared as the man began to caress the reclining girl gently,
felt the heat of remembrance in her own body as she watched the huge ebony
hands gliding across the girl's milky white skin. The lewdly exciting
scene continued for several moments in absolute quietness. No one seemed
to be willing to break the stillness, or to interrupt the sensuous scene
before them.
Then, softly at first, the audience could hear the low, throaty moans
coming from the girl. Her pleading groans changed the mood in the room,
and everyone started talking excitedly and moving even closer in order to
watch more carefully.
Laura's legs trembled as the girl on the floor began arching her back
and crying out to the Negro to heap greater and greater indignities upon
her. The drug that Deke Vito had passed around had effected everyone,
though not as much as the trembling Laura---Deke had pound Laura's drink
himself and had purposely given her considerably more than the others.
The giant black man rolled over onto his back and lay there passively
as Jacqueline began to nibble at his shining skin with tiny, darting
bites---and began to stroke his chest with her hands.
Laura felt the fire building up in her inflamed body as she watched
Black Jack's penis begin to swell in a series of jerking pulsations---
growing to an unbelievable size. She shouldered her way forward until she
stood just above the writhing couple. Everyone was too intent to notice
the enraptured brunette, except Deke Vito and he watched her with obvious
satisfaction. Licking his lips lewdly, he envisioned his plans for Laura
Dutton.
Laura, with the others, watched in amazement as the Negro rolled
over, pinning the girl beneath him and allowed himself to be guided by the
girl's hands toward her already moistened vagina. She had kicked her legs
open wide and had curled them back around his buttocks to give him greater
access to her throbbing cunt.
It can't fit, she thought, the girl is so tiny compared to Black
Jack! She leaned forward, her eyes seeing nothing except the great black
head of the man's prick beginning to insinuate its way between the girl's
soft, pink vaginal lips. The room was dead quiet as the man edged it
further and further into the girl's cunt, slowly, and gently, pushing the
hair-lined lips wider and wider apart.
They heard the girl's cries of intermingled pain and pleasure as the
massive shaft sunk deeper and deeper between her straining thighs.
Several of the women murmured with horrified concern that the Negro was
too big, that he would hurt the girl, but the men quickly quieted them.
Finally, the black man held still above the bereaved girl until she
was able to adjust to the presence of the huge, throbbing organ in her
soft, white belly. He watched as her pain-contorted face began a slow,
hesitant relaxation.
"Ahhhhhhhh . . ." she breathed in welcome relief, tightening her
ankles behind his back.
Then he moved again inside her, a sudden groan exploding from her
lips as he expertly began a slow revolving grind with his pelvis. Her
cries slowly lessened as her hot, wet passage adjusted to the intrusion of
his immense prick
Unbelieving eyes stared amazed that the tiny girl had been able to
accept the enormous Negro. Laura heard their shouts and then unconsciously
joined them, as everyone excitedly urged the straining couple to a faster
and faster tempo of intercourse.
The wild, uninhibited debauching of the girl on the floor continued
for several explosive minutes and the lewd spectacle seemed to have driven
everyone into a uncontrolled, lustful frenzy. Laura looked around and all
of the people in the room, including the women, were frantically stripping
off their clothes. Guiltily, she could feel the same lascivious desire
building between her own legs and, in spite of her initial aversion,
almost wished there was some man there at her side.
Then they all heard the moaning cries from the girl on the floor and
turned to watch her arching her back frantically, screaming out to the
huge Negro that she was cumming. Everyone was mesmerized by the writhing
couple's final race for orgasm on the pillows, and the room quieted again
except for the man's heavy bellowed breathing, the girl's frenzied cries
of completion, and the rhythmic sound of flesh smacking wetly against
flesh.
When it finally ended, and Black Jack had gone somewhere to get
dressed, the girl still lay there, legs spread wide apart and moaning
softly down into the velvet cushions. She was wet between her open thighs
and tell-tale trails of white, hot sperm lay across her thighs where the
huge Negro had withdrawn after shooting his full, heavy load deep down
inside her.
Everyone had been aroused to a state of unbelievable desire and Laura
watched as couples grappled all around the room in wild, sensuous
embraces. Then everything was stopped suddenly by the sound of Deke Vito's
voice:
"Boys," he said, motioning to the two waiters, "fill up all those
drinks. Now, we're really going to have a show." He laughed and turned
back to the rest of the people in the room.
"Gentlemen, are you all prepared to make a small wager?" He grinned
at their quick assent, and continued, "I have a special prize here tonight
and I think we should gamble for it."
Laura didn't understand what Vito was talking about until he came
over and took her by the arm.
"Laura Baby, stand out here where the men can see you." He turned
again to the staring men. "What do you think?" he said, pointing to her.
"Don't you think this is worth a small gamble?"
The room was filled with gleeful cheers as the men stared at the
extraordinarily beautiful girl at Vito's side. Some of the men stood and
cheered, while others left the sides of the girls they were with and moved
closer.
"Yes, Deke . . . beautiful! . . . How are we going to do it?" one of
them, with a lecherous face breathed excitedly.
The men's shouts and the obvious lust in their eyes terrified Laura
and she tried frantically to pull away from the gambler but he held her
too tightly.
Then, he called one of the waiters over, telling him to bring him the
decanter of special liquor. One of the men sitting in front of Laura
tossed Vito a glass.
She struggled again in his grasp, and finally slapped him with all
her might.
No one said a word as the gambler regained his balance. Then it
sounded like a pistol firing as he slapped her brutally twice across the
face. She almost fell but he supported her with one hand as he grabbed
the low neckline of her cocktail dress and with one violent motion ripped
it completely down the front.
The room was silent except for her faint cries of indignation as he
stripped her bra and panties from her trebling body, and left her standing
wearing nothing except her panty girdle and stockings. The men and women
in the room stared in amazement at the girl's spectacular beauty, some of
them feeling sorry for her but most of them laughing gleefully as Deke
Vito made her drink several small glasses of the thick amber liquid.
Laura kept choking, trying to push his hand away, but he forced her
again and again to drink the strangely sweet liquor. Then, with a
contemptuous snarl, he pushed her to her knees on the cushions and she
fell back as he turned and spoke to the others.
She could hear his words in the distance but couldn't really focus
her thoughts. Her head still spun from the force of his blows and all of
the drug he had given her had rendered her almost unconscious.
The men in the audience also barely heard Deke Vito, but for another
reason. The distraction caused by the girl lying naked and defenseless on
the floor before them, her startling loveliness, made it virtually
impossible for them to concentrate on his words. She lay there
unresisting with her legs slightly parted and her full, voluptuous breasts
heaving as though in an erotic trance. The reddened lips of her vagina
were tantalizingly visible beneath the soft silken mound of pubic hair,
and the slightly darker stockings on her trembling legs somehow made it
more exciting than if she had been completely naked.
Laura could hear him outlining the rules for the gambling and her
mind screamed at the thought that she would be turned over to the winner
whoever he might be.
She lay there in blinding terror with her eyes tightly shut, and
tried to block out any realization of what was happening to her. But it
was impossible as she listened to the shouts and laughter coming from the
blackjack tables. The young girl struggled on the cushions and tried to
get up but Vito returned and looked contemptuously down at her.
"Laura Baby, don't make me mad. I just might decide to have someone
pay a call on that stupid husband of yours and shut him up for good." He
leaned down and pinched her brutally on the thigh. "Why don't you just lay
back and enjoy it?"
The tears streamed down her face as she watched the gambler leave her
again. My God! Why? Why does he do this to me. I can't stand it . . .
I can't stand it! Her mind whirled in a vortex of tumbling tortured
thoughts---she wanted to scream, and then she felt the heat bet to rise
again in her straining body . . .
The vast amount of the strange liquor that Deke Vito had imported
from Istanbul was beginning to spread a wild, abandoned fire through her.
In the beginning, along with the warmth that she felt, she could feel the
agony and guilt slowly becoming dulled until she seemed to be floating
without any thoughts at all. But now the calm emptiness was replaced with
quivering desire that made her itch over every inch of her body. Her skin
seemed to be crawling with tiny, dancing butterflies and each time she
scratched herself to eleviate the torture it became worse.
She moaned and writhed on the floor trying to stop the punishing
sensations that were driving her wild.
Laura didn't know hour long she lay there amid the loud laughter and
cheers from the gambling tables, she only knew there was a great fire
building wildly in her loins and she wanted someone there to touch her, to
wipe away the burning heat.
She clung to the pillows, burying her fingers deep in the soft velvet
and moaned softly in the near darkness.
Then the talking and laughter became louder and as she started to
raise her head to look around, someone grabbed her ankles and turned her
over onto her back. She opened her eyes to several hovering figures,
unrecognizable except for the lighted our lines of the lamps behind them.
There seemed to be people all around her, and a myriad of hands
seemed to be running across her body.
"Ohhhhhhh . . . yes! Touch me! . . . somebody, please hold me . . ."
Her cries were drowned by the hum of loud voices and the winner was
aided out of his clothes as he prepared to join the arching girl on the
floor.
"Hey, Joe, you got it made . . . she's cryin' for it."
"Come on, boy . . . hurry up, I'm next!"
Then she heard a voice by her ear, "No, leave the stockings on, leave
'em on."
Laura felt the weight of a man's body crushing against her side, and
then the violent electric shocks bolting through her flesh as her naked
skin touched someone else's.
"Oh, please . . . someone help me . . . I'm so hot! Scratch me! God!
It's so hot!"
She cried out again and again. And hands seemed to be everywhere,
stroking and caressing her and making her tremble in maddened lust. She
felt fingers running slowly up the sensitive inner-sides of her thighs,
and she felt the hot moistness between her legs as her tortured vagina
began to flower open and lubricate with the boiling liquids of desire.
"OhhhOhhhyes! . . . yes . . . yes . . . please put it in me. Give it
to me . . . Now! . . . Now! . . ."
The man at her side began to frantically scramble up on top of her,
hurrying madly with the desire caused by her pleading words. She felt him
probing between her thighs, his hands groping for the hot wetness of her
open vagina.
Almost blind with lust, she reached for him and grabbed his hand,
guiding him. She felt the swollen thickness of his cock as it throbbed
and jerked in her trembling fingers.
Then she felt the shocks move down between her legs as the smooth,
rubbery head of it brushed into
158 the soft mound of her pubic hair . . . teasing her as it touched
the wet, pink lips of her eager pussy . . .
"God, yes! Put it in . . . I want you buried in me . . . PLEASE FUCK
ME! . . . NOW! . . . NOW!
She strained for him, arching her hips and throwing her legs out in
the air to make it easier for him to penetrate her, her hands slipping
from his back to the soft red of the pillows beneath her.
Then he began to force himself into her . . . grinding against her
with his hips. Pushing and probing further into her waiting body until he
was buried to the hilt, his hard, thick shaft wrapped tightly in the wet,
warmness between her legs.
She began to gyrate frantically beneath him and he tried to hold her
back, but it was no use. Faster and faster her hips ground below him
bringing him to a climax almost immediately.
She felt him beginning to tremble, she knew he was cumming and she
wasn't ready. She wasn't ready!
"No! . . . No! not yet. Please, not yet!" she screamed in a wild
animal-like anger.
But, there was no stopping him---and suddenly, like jets of fire, she
felt the great spurting jets pulsing deep into her belly. She kept trying
to hold him back, to make him wait for her . . . she could feel the
beginnings of her own climax deep inside her and she knew it would be only
moments . . . moments . . . please . . . please . . .
And then he collapsed on top of her and with the dying trembling of
his body her climax died almost immediately---or rather than dying, just
stopped. She could feel it waiting back there like a great body of
turbulent water that needed just one more level to make it come bursting
through the dam of her senses. "You bastard . . . why didn't you wait?
Why didn't you wait, I was so close! So close!" she screamed up at him
her face contorted in hate and disgust at his weakness.
The man rolled away from her amid the laughing and jeers of the crowd
and another man pulled him up and knelt by the side of the crying girl.
He had already taken off his clothes, and now as he began to run his hands
across her quivering hips he knew that she was ready for him and there was
no need for further play.
Laura felt the new body at her side and reached for him, grasping
desperately for the swelling hardness of his cock. When her hands
encircled him and she felt his readiness she turned half towards him,
trying to bring him tighter against her, throwing her legs wide for him to
enter her.
"Yes, again . . . put it in me . . . I was so close . . . so close!
Oh God, fuck me like a man!"
The man slithered down, grabbing her ankles, and raised her legs
high, bending her double until her knees were just above her face. Then,
as she lay completely exposed before him, in one violent thrust he plunged
his throbbing cock completely into the wet, burning pussy throbbing
hungrily between her widespread thighs.
"ARGhbhhhhhh . . . Oh God! . . . Yes . . . hard . . . Hard! . . .
It's so hot, you're burning me . . . fuck faster . . . FASTER!"
He plunged again and again into her, rotating his hips in rapid,
vicious circles as he rammed in and out of her clasping cunt. He felt the
tickling beginning back somewhere inside him just as she cried out that
she was coming.
"Now! . . . NOW! . . . cuming . . . I'm cuuummmminng! . . ."
She began to buckle violently beneath him, arching and rearing like
an untamed bitch in heat, her wild movements driving him to back-breaking
speed. Then it came to him, the blinding explosions that shook his body
as he strained against her, grinding his pelvis down into her churning
crotch with ever increasing brutal and merciless force. His arms were
completely stiff and quivering and then his whole body began to tremble
and shake in great ecstatic spasms as she undulated her upturned buttocks
salaciously beneath him.
Laura, writhing beneath him, again had one last whirling vision of
Johnny, her husband, flickering guiltily through her mind.
"Oh Johnny . . . darling . . . forgive me . . . Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,
forgive me, my dearest," she mumbled helplessly through passion clenched
teeth and then the vision exploded into a thousand tiny fragments of
bright flaring red as she felt the plunging cock sunk deep in her belly
gushing forth wetly into the contracted channel of her cunt. The hot,
spurting sperm set off another wild, uncontrolled series of explosions far
down in her own belly.
"Oh, Oh, Oh, God . . . God, I'm cummming . . . Ooooooooh, I . . . I'm
cummmmming . . . Asaaaaaaaaaggghhhhh!" And with one last burst of
remaining strength she kicked her quivering legs far out in the air on
either side of the plunging buttocks of the man fucking her and then
collapsed, totally satiated, beneath him.
The room quieted except for their heavy gasps for breath and everyone
stood motionless and awe-struck as they watched their obscenely entwined
limbs slowly relaxing and falling almost lifelessly to the cushions below.
It was over.
Laura lay there after the man had exhaustedly pulled himself from
between her legs and tried to regain her senses but the drug and the
violence of the lovemaking had destroyed all conscious thought. She tried
to rise, to open her eyes, but she had no strength. She just wanted to
lie there forever, to revel in the delicious calmness that had settled
over her.
And then, through the dim mist of half consciousness, she felt
another man reaching for her!
She was pulled bodily over on top of him and felt the hard shaft of
his ready penis pressing against her belly. He grabbed her shoulders and
pulled her up until the thick pulsing tip of his prick nestled right at
the opening of her sperm-bathed vagina--- and then he plunged it up into
her---gripping her hips and pulling her down until he was buried in her
completely.
Then, he held her hips and slowly pushed her up and down, rising to
meet her each lime. It began to hurt her. The excitement of the other
two men had almost drained her and the man below her began to scrape
against her as he jammed her down onto him
"Arghhhh . . . Ahhhh . . . No . . I can't stand anymore . . .
please! I can't stand it!"
But he wouldn't stop. He kept pounding into her, raising himself
with cruel driving thrusts . . . again and again he bored into her and she
thought she was going to faint from the pain . . .
Then, slowly, as though it had never existed, the pain began to
subside again and was replaced with a fiery lustful desire and the began
to move with him. She rose and fell to the rhythm of his thrusting hips
and felt the white-hot heat of his swollen penis deep inside her.
There was noise all around her and she could feel what seemed to be
hundreds of hands running across her back and they drove her to an even
wilder frenzy. When as she was pushed forward until her breasts were
squashed tight into the man's chest, she felt someone's fingers parting
her buttocks and probing at the sensitive raised circle of her anus. The
touch, at first, aroused unleashed passion in her straining body, but then
the insistent probing began to hurt slightly.
She struggled against it, afraid to move away because she might lose
the wonderful felling of the man inside her, but hurt by the thrusting
finger as it wormed its way deeper and deeper into the soft rubbery depths
of her rectum.
"Ahhhhh . . . no NO! . . . please," she whimpered out behind her,
"please don't, you're hurting me!"
But the hand wouldn't stop and she felt thumbs on her buttocks
spreading them. Then another finger joined the first inside her . . .
The hands kept spreading her, easing the cheeks of her soft,
resilient buttocks further and further apart until it seemed she would
split open back there.
And then, as suddenly as they had entered, the fingers were removed
and she felt the soothing wash of cool air across her buttocks. But, only
for a moment, and then a larger, smooth rubbery object pressed against her
. . . a man's penis!
She squirmed violently, trying to get away from the intruding
pressure without losing the filling warmth of the man beneath her. But
the man, whoever he was behind her, kept pushing against her until she
felt the tight elastic ring of her ass pop slightly and encircle the head
of his throbbing penis . . . and then felt it begin worm its way
relentlessly inside.
As the man at her back ventured further she could feel the thickness
of his prick begin to rub against the man's beneath her---separated only
slightly by the thin, fleshy membrane between her vagina and rectum.
"Ahhhhhhh . . . oh, yes! . . . yes . . . I can feel both of you . . .
I can feel both of you inside me! . . ."
She cried out to them, urging them to move faster. The thought of
having two men making love to her at the same time was driving her towards
a volcano of fiery lust . . . and she wanted to scream, to cry out to the
heavens the wild masochistic pleasure they were bringing her.
It seemed to go on and on forever, the hands gripping her as the was
completely impaled from below and above. Everything seemed to be
spinning, revolving in a great whirlpool of burning sensations and she
thought she was going to pass out from exhaustion.
Then her tiredness began to disappear as once again she felt herself
nearing an explosive climax.
"Ahhhhh . . . ahh . . . please, together, cum together . . . cum
together! I can feel it cuming . . . hurry . . . HURRY! . . . Oooooooh,
God! God!"
The room was filled with the sounds of her desperate screams and the
other men and women were caught up in the madness of her shouting lust.
Everyone had stripped completely and couples were making love in every
corner of the room in the wildest possible ways.
To Laura, it never seemed to stop . . . she came . . . the men left
her . . . and others took their place . . . and she came again . . . and
others took their place . . . on and on . . . on, and on . . .
Chapter 7
She felt someone shaking her. She didn't know if she was dreaming or
not and tried to push the insistent hand away. Her head throbbed with a
pounding headache and her eyelids felt as if they had been coated on the
inside with sand.
Then, with her eyes still closed, she tried to remember where she
was. What had happened to her. She stirred beneath the covers, and the
movement made her hurt all over . . . there was a searing pain between her
thighs, and she felt as if she was covered with bruises. What had
happened to her? Why did she hurt so badly?
And then the memories slowly sifted through her thoughts, cutting her
like razor-edged knives. As the young girl began to regain her
consciousness, the events of the night before slowly began to fall into
place.
"No . . . no . . . not again . . . not again! . . ." Her scream
shattered the soft sunlight and stillness in the room and caused the man
at her side to jerk his arm and knock off the glass at the side of the
bed.
The clatter of the glass and sound of her own scream opened her eyes,
and Laura saw the man's face only inches from her own.
"No . . . No! . . . get away . . . please . . . Noooooooo! . . ."
"Shhhhhh . . . Laura, don't be frightened. I won't hurt you." The
mans voice was soft and gentle, and somehow the girl could sense the
sincerity.
"Laura, this is Cassis Mornay. I won't hurt you." He took her by
the shoulders and held her tenderly, her wracking sobs muffled against his
arm.
"Oh, it was so horrible . . . they raped me . . . Over and over . .
." her voice trailed away against him. It was several moments before he
felt the girl's shuddering begin to die out.
"Harry, bring Laura some of that coffee. And some brandy."
The other man, the kindly bartender from the bar below, finished
pulling the cords of the draperies and walked into the kitchen.
Almost an hour later, the three of them sat in the sunlit room.
Laura lay propped up against a pillow in bed, and the two men sat at the
coffee table by the divan in the bedroom
Laura had regained her composure and now she listened to the tall
distinguished-looking man on the couch
"Laura, you don't have to talk if you don't want to. Harry has
explained a lot of things to me, and I can probably guess the rest."
He got up and came over and took her by the hand. "I'm sorry that I
didn't know last night. I swear I thought you had come up here because
you wanted to." He paused. "I thought you were just another of the girls
we sometimes use."
He refilled her coffee cup, and laced it lightly with a little more
cognac. She accepted it gratefully and looked back at him, trying to
comprehend what was happening.
A few moments after he'd awakened her she'd realized that she was
still upstairs in his suite, but the rooms were empty of all the people
who had been at the party. Then she'd seen the sunlight pouring through
the open window and had known the party had ended hours earlier.
She sat there in bed, looking around at the ruinous aftermath of the
orgy and then back into the kind face of the man at her side.
"Mr. Mornay, I didn't want to do anything . . . it was Deke Vito who
made me do it." The grey-haired man felt the shudder pass through her as
she mentioned the gambler's name.
"I didn't want to . . . he forced me . . . and then . . . Johnny? . .
. where's Johnny? . . ."
"Shhhhh . . . Laura, don't worry about anything. I've taken care of
it all. Both Johnny and Deke Vito. Here, drink your coffee and get
dressed. I left a bathrobe in that bathroom for you." He handed her the
cup and got up.
"Mrs. Dutton, don't you worry about a thing," Harry said from the
other side of the room.
"Thank you . . . thank . . . Harry." But her voice was interrupted
again by her tears.
"Go ahead, get it all out of your system. We'll be in the living
room," said Mr. Mornay.
They left her, shutting the door quietly behind them. And she lay
there for a few moments until the last tear had fallen. Then she rose and
went into the bedroom.
Minutes later, under the stinging spray of the shower, she rubbed
away the shame and the degradation and she felt as well as she could under
the circumstances.
She wondered what Mr. Mornay had meant about Johnny and Deke Vito.
She'd only seen Mr. Mornay once before, but when he'd come over to speak
to her before the party began she had sensed the air of gentility about
him, and she had been attracted by his tall handsome appearance.
It's so wonderful of him to do . . . to worry about me, the thought.
I wonder how he found out what was happening. It must have been Harry . .
.
She came into the living room, wrapped warmly in the robe he'd given
her, and both men stood as she entered.
"Here, Laura, I've ordered Eggs Benedict for all of us and it should
be up in a minute." He motioned for her to sit across from him and turned
to accept a cigarette from Harry.
"Laura, I'd better tell you exactly what's happened. Most of it's
due to Harry here. You can thank him, because I wouldn't have known
otherwise."
"Well, Mr. Mornay, I just thought it was time someone told you what
was happening in your clubs . . . and when that greasy bastard made his
play for Mrs. Dutton, I couldn't stand it any longer."
"Harry, I don't how you knew . . . and I wish there was some way I
could thank you. Please call me Laura, won't you?"
"Yes, Mrs. Dutton . . . I mean . . ."
"Laura, I'll start from the beginning . . ." But the tall man was
interrupted by the sound of the chimes at the door.
"Just a second, Laura, that must be our breakfast. He rose and
pushed a button by the bar and the front door opened.
They spoke very little as the waiter served the breakfast, and it
wasn't until later, with the coffee, that he continued;
"It's something that most people don't know about, and shouldn't, but
most of us who run casinos as large as this have to deal with some pretty
unsavory characters. The only difference is that these characters have a
considerable amount of money. I've always thought before that if I didn't
follow the practices of the other casino owners that I'd lose too much
money. What the hell, I figured if I didn't provide these guys with what
they wanted they'd just go to another club.
Just one of the things they demanded were women. Beautiful girls
that the house paid for and private little parties where they could have
their fun to take away the sting of their losses."
He paused to refill the coffee and pour a little more brandy. "I've
never had anything against prostitutes. There's certainly enough demand
for them, I just didn't know where to find them. This is all long before
you time, Laura, but bear with me because it'll explain a lot of what
happened."
She nodded, intent on his words, and waited for him to continue. He
had such a beautiful voice and as he spoke she realized that he wasn't as
old as she had thought. At a first glance, he appeared older, but now she
realized that it was his silver-grey hair. He spoke again, and she lifted
her eyes from her coffee cup to watch him.
"As I said, I didn't know where to find the right girls, and then a
friend of mine down in Las Vegas recommended Vito. I brought him up here
and he seemed to be working out alright. He wasn't exactly my type of
person, but I had to admit that he was able to supply what I needed." He
laughed. "What the hell, I didn't really expect to get a Stanford Man to
supply me with a bunch of whores.
"At any rate, because it was a business that I didn't particularly
want to get mixed up in, or even know much about for that matter, I gave
him full rein."
She watched him turn and pat Harry on the shoulder. It's strange,
she thought, Harry's so much older but Mr. Mornay treats him like a son.
"If it hadn't have been for Harry, it might have gone on that way
forever. I'm here so rarely, as you know---though that'll be changed---and
I never suspected that Vito was doing more or less than I told him. It
seems that he'd taken this whole disagreeable business of prostitution and
made a sucker out of me.
"When I'd get back from a trip I'd ask for the cost figures on the
parties, etc. and pay it without question."
He turned to Harry.
"As a matter of fact, Harry, I ought to be mad that you didn't tell
me earlier, it sure had cost me a bundle." Then he laughed.
"I'm only kidding. I did some checking with the other club owners
this morning and I found out the risk you took by telling me even now."
"Mr. Mornay . . . I . . ."
"Harry, why don't you and Laura start right now by calling me Cass?
I know it's a silly name, but it's better than Cassis." He laughed again,
and Laura thought how much different his laugh was than the others she'd
heard in the past few days. Vito's, Goldman's . . .
"Mr. . . uh, Cass, I wasn't really afraid of Deke Vito, I just didn't
know how you'd take it. I mean I thought that maybe you already . . ."
His voice dropped in confusion.
"You mean you thought that I already knew," he chuckled, "that I was
part of the whole deal."
He turned to Laura, "Harry's done us all a tremendous favor, and I
think he'll find that I'm able to show my appreciation. Well, let me
continue, I'll try to make the whole thing a little shorter. It seems
that over and above what I was paying him, Deke was raking money off the
top of the figures he'd given me and giving the girls less. And, now that
I've looked into it, I've found that was just one of the rackets he was
running. Another was blackmailing girls like yourself, and even bigger,
the squeeze he was putting on the entertainers he's booked here."
He paused to light another cigarette, and as he did Laura wanted to
ask him about Johnny. The mention of entertainers had jolted her back
into the memory of her husband. Poor Johnny, he's probably worried to
death. Wait until he finds out all the wonderful news!
"Laura, the gist of all this is that no one in one of my clubs, or
any of the other owners for that matter, will ever have to worry about
Deke Vito or any of his henchmen again. I've seen to that!"
He seemed to be thinking intently for a moment before he continued,
"I'm afraid I had to use a few gangster tactics myself. I didn't want to,
but it was nothing I could turn over to the police, and violence seemed to
be the only thing Deke Vito knew."
Cassis Mornay put his hand on her shoulder. "Laura, you've found the
friend you have in Harry, but there's someone else who thinks you're
awfully special." He shook his head. "This morning after talking to
Harry I called Black Jack."
Both Harry's and Laura's heads lifted in surprise at the giant
Negro's name.
"I asked him about what I'd been told and he confirmed it. Then he
asked me what I planned to do with Vito and when I said I hadn't decided,
he mentioned your name."
She looked at him, puzzled, wondering how much Black Jack would have
told him.
"He asked me if I knew what Deke Vito had done to you and when I told
him I wasn't sure I knew everything---for a moment he really did look like
a great wild animal---then he told me Vito had been terrible to you and
would I mind if he personally escorted him out of town."
He stopped for a moment. Then he got up and walked over to the bar.
He mixed them all a drink, and came back. "Deke Vito won't be doing
any fancy gambling or playing with women again after Black Jack finished
with him not with those hands and that face." He paused, raising his
glass. "Well, enough of that. I think we should drink a toast, a two-
fold toast! First, because we're rid of Deke Vito and all the troubles he
caused, and secondly . . ." He tapped Harry on the shoulder . . . "to our
new casino manager!"
Harry sputtered in his drink, and Laura clapped her hands in delight,
"Oh, Harry! That's wonderful!" she cried, and kissed him on the
cheek.
"Mr. Mornay . . . you didn't have to . . . I mean, well, hell . . ."
His voice was lost in the rim of his glass, and they could both see the
dampness in the corners of his eyes.
"Harry, goddamn it! My executives call me Cass, is that understood?"
Mornay said menacingly, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Yessir, Mr. . . ."
"Harry, I want you to go home and relax. I've got some big plans I
want to go over with you tomorrow." He laughed, and shook the shorter
man's hand as they both rose.
Moments later, he came to Laura's side.
"Cass, that's wonderful, no one could have deserved it more than
Harry." Then she sobered momentarily, "Cass, where's the phone? I have
to call Johnny. He'll be so delighted with the news, and he must be
terribly worried about me."
She saw a strange look cross his face, and then he gently pushed her
back against the couch.
"Laura, I have to talk to you about Johnny . . ." He stopped when he
saw the fear in her eyes. "No, don't worry, he's alright."
The sudden tenseness went out of her shoulders. "What is it, Cass.
What do you mean about . . . Johnny?"
"Laura, Black Jack told me a few things about Jonnny and Vito, about
the contract and some other things. It wasn't very pleasant, but I
realized Black Jack would have no reason to lie." He paused, but
continued before the young girl was able to pose the question he saw in
her eyes.
"Laura, I had to test Johnny. I talked to him this morning.
Naturally, he denied having anything to do with offering you to . . .
well, anyway, I asked him if he still wanted that contract in San
Francisco. I told him he had a choice."
"Cass, what do you mean? Offering me to . . . to Deke?" She saw the
brief nod of agreement in the man's gray eyes. "Cass," she said, as soon
as she was able to continue, "what choice? . . . what did you offer him?"
"Laura, I told him he had his choice between you and the contract. I
told him he could either stay here as long as he wanted, with you and a
raise, or go to San Francisco without you."
He took both her hands in his, and looked at her before he softly
added: "Laura, he left on this mornings plane." He paused, "I'm sorry."
He held the sobbing girl in his arms for several minutes until she
stopped crying. He wanted to comfort her, but there were no words, and he
just sat helplessly and watched her stare out the huge picture windows.
When she turned back to him, her eyes were dry and determined. She
picked up her drink, downed it, and handed the glass to him for another.
He stood at the bar, waiting, and then she finally spoke. "Cass, I
should have known all along. There've been so many signs, but like a
foolish schoolgirl I ignored them . . ." Then the tears came again. "I
don't know what to do! Everything's been so rotten, I feel so used! I
just can't go home to my family and listen to all their, I told you so's.
I just can't face them."
"Laura, you're not going home. You're staying here. And, nothing's
happened to you that a little clear thinking won't erase. None of it was
your fault. You gave everything you had for a man you thought loved you.
You were wrong. But, it's not a mistake you can't get over."
She looked up at him as he walked over to her. There seemed to be so
much strength in him, she thought.
He handed her the drink, and took her hand. He lifted her to her
feet and the two of them walked over to the window. It was quiet for a
moment and then he turned her face to his.
"Laura, you'll be able to forget it. I swear to God I won't let you
remember it!" He tried to laugh off the obvious seriousness in his voice.
"I mean it's pretty much my fault that it happened in the first place. I
feel like I'm the one to blame."
She turned and put her head on his shoulder. The tears were gone, and
she felt a certain serenity in his arms . . .
* * *
Black Jack picked her up at the beauty salon, standing by the rear
door of the Rolls until she was inside. She leaned forward to tell him to
drop her off at the casino when she felt a sudden shudder. It wasn't
cold, though it was down to about thirty-five degrees outside. Then she
realized that the movement of sliding the glass window aside to speak to
him had reminded her of another night almost five months earlier . . . a
long trip down from the home of Harry Goldman; another Rolls Royce . . .
At least, she thought as she leaned back into the warming softness of
the seat, I'll never have to go through that again.
She walked into the casino and decided she'd rather have a drink
downstairs at the bar instead of having to make her own upstairs. She
walked over to the curved cocktail lounge and took a seat at one of the
stools.
The bartender was a young man, Freddy---and he nodded cheerfully to
her and rushed over to serve her. As he set the napkin in front of her
she noticed the undisguised admiration in his eyes and she smiled
inwardly. Then she thought she felt another reaction, a reaction she was
becoming very used to. Mostly with younger men. When they saw her with
Cassis, there was always first the approval of her looks-but then she
could almost see them wondering what she was doing with a man twenty years
older than herself. She could even see some of them preening their
feathers as they convinced themselves that they could take her away from
the older man if they really tried.
She wanted to shout to them that they were fools, that they weren't
fit to shine Cass' shoes, but her anger was soon dissipated by the
pleasure she could see in the grey-haired man. He never noticed the
second reaction, only the first---and she knew how proud it made him feel.
She rarely thought of anything that had occurred before she met Cass.
He had been right. Time did erase a lot of bad memories, especially ones
that her mind fought so hard to keep out.
In a club, even one as large as this casino, it was impossible to
keep secrets and it had seemed that everyone had known that she was going
to move in with Cass Mornay a few days after that party--- they had known
even before she did!
It had been a wonderful five months. Everything she had ever wanted,
especially the total affection and absorption of the man she lived with.
He had remained true to his word; Harry became manager of the entire
casino and it was rumored that soon he would be in charge of the others
Cassis owned, and the practice of providing whores for the big spenders
had been completely discontinued with very little adverse effect.
The click of ice in an empty glass broke her train of thought and she
called Freddy over and told him to make her another. As she sipped her
drink, she slipped back into her reverie.
He's been so good to me, she thought, in every way. He treats me
wonderfully and our love life, if not being as wildly erotic as what I'd
experienced, is all I've ever wanted.
As she picked up her drink again she felt a slight twinge as she
noticed the absence of a ring.
I wonder if someday he'll ask me. It's not as if I'm ashamed of
living with him . . . it's not that. I know he loves me. I know I could
make him happy whether we're married or not.
I love him so much, so very much. After Johnny, it's so wonderful to
be with someone I know I can trust. To never have to worry again. But I
won't rush him, she thought, I know he doesn't want anyone else . . .
The mention of Johnny in her mind turned her thoughts to the stories
she'd read lately. The divorce had been accomplished very quickly and
quietly by Cassis, and through it all there had never been any
correspondence between her and the singer she'd married.
About three months ago his name had started appearing in columns and
in Variety. Just as everyone had prophesied, he was becoming very big.
She'd even heard that he'd begun filming a movie---and everywhere she
turned there were more of the scandal sheets linking his name with some
starlet or heiress.
It's strange, she thought, when he walked out of my life that day it
was like he'd never existed. The mention of his name or one of his new
recordings no longer meant anything to her.
I'm growing up, just like Hollywood, she thought. Soon I'll be able
to invite him to one of my parties and call him 'dahling.'
She sipped her third martini and asked Freddy for the time. It was
still early, too early for Cassis to be home. He'd said something about a
meeting in the morning and had told her that he thought he'd be in late.
Later, as she wandered through the casino she decided to see if Harry
was still there, but no one answered in his office. I miss him at the
bar, she reminisced, I never have a chance to talk to him anymore.
Laura stopped at one of the roulette tables and played for about an
hour.
She'd never gambled before until she'd met Deke Vito, and still never
played anything except roulette. There was some perverse desire deep
inside her that made her want to finally beat the wheel that had wreaked
such vengeance on her. It didn't happen very often that she did win, but
when she did the proportion of satisfaction made all of her playing
worthwhile.
Tiring of the wheel, it wasn't one of her winning nights she thought
ruefully---she called the show room and told them she'd like a table for
the dinner show.
That's one thing at least, I'll never have to wait in line for a show
in Reno. Not with Cassis Mornay, as my guardian and especially after
we're married.
She sat at a small, but choice, table and listened to one of the big
new groups to hit the country---The Gold Coast Trio. When she finished her
steak and a small bottle of imported Pommard French wine, she decided that
she'd wait upstairs for Cassis. She knew how delighted he was when she was
there waiting for him instead of the center of attraction at one of the
tables downstairs.
Maybe I can talk him into going away. We can get out of this cold
weather for a while. To the islands or something. I'd like to have him
alone and completely to myself for a while. Who known.
She waited for the small plush elevator to take her up to the top
floor, to the suite she'd come to love.
As she inserted the key in the door, she thought she heard music
inside. Oh damn! he's home already and I wasn't here to meet him. She
stepped into the softly lighted living room and looked for him.
"Cassis. Cass, I'm home." Then she heard the shower and decided to
fix them both a drink while he was in the bathroom. She iced the glasses
while she made the martinis and then took them into the bedroom.
She put the glasses and the shaker into the ice bucket by the bed and
then smiled at an inspiration that came to her. She went into the other
bathroom and checked her makeup. When she touched it up to her
satisfaction she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Hell! I can
always take it off in the morning. Tonight's too important to worry about
a little makeup.
Laura hummed softly to herself as she undressed and put on the black
lace negligee that looked like a sensuous Roman Toga. It was Cass'
favorite.
Then, she moved the ice bucket closer to the bed and poured herself a
martini. She heard the shower stop and knew that he'd be out any minute
and hurriedly jumped under the covers. Then she had to get up again
because she didn't like the lighting.
She had barely gotten under the silken sheets again when he heard the
bathroom door opening. She felt the laughter in her heart as she turned
and held the glass out to him . . .
"Hi, Darling . . . look, I made you a . . .WHO ARE YOU?" She
screamed and grabbed at the fallen sheet as she realized that the man in
the bathroom doorway wasn't Cassis Mornay!
"I'm sorry, Laura," the man chuckled softly. "I didn't mean to
frighten you. I didn't know you were home yet."
"WHO ARE YOU? What are you doing in my bedroom? . . . Cass! . . .
Cassis!"
She cried out, screaming and hoping that Cass would come in.
"I'm sorry, Laura. Cass won't be home for a while. I took him to
the airport this afternoon. He has to go to Paris for a few months and
gave me the key." He smiled in obvious anticipation as he looked down at
her voluptuous form under the thin sheet." He told me to take care of
you," he said as he dropped his robe to the floor.
"Oh, by the way," he added as he put his hand possessively on her
shoulder, and slid into bed beside her. "I'm one of Cass's better
customers! And he said you'd know how to amuse me until he got back!"
The End