Chapter 2
John Sanders needed a drink more than anything in the world. Norma Jean could just wait another half-hour. She'd been making him wait long enough. Norma Jean had promised to get over her frigid spell if he took her to Miami, but he was still damned mad. Last night she had a headache and was drunk as well. And this morning he couldn't wake her up. He knew damned good and well she was awake, but when he had tried to poke his finger up her pussy she had groaned and turned over on her side, aiming away from him.
The bar was dark and cool, perfect for having a few drinks. So Billy Jack ordered a gin and tonic and stretched out in a booth and crossed his ankles. As he drank the cool and snappy drink, he reflected on his life. The insurance game was fun, no two ways about that. Delivering the policies when the old man was working was the best. And the money was good. Or not bad, anyway.
And he thought about working all those nights, being away from Norma Jean. Does she know? he wondered. And he wondered what she did all those nights. "Nuthin'," she'd always say, and hop into her bath. One night he came home early and found Bob Spencer there, sitting and talking with Norma Jean. They had all gone to school together and Bob was a pretty nice guy.
The best thing about insurance, Billy Jack thought, was the fact that he could see Marilou Parkins any time he wanted. She also went to school with them, and she was engaged to a guy in the Navy. Good old Marilou! Billy Jack smiled and finished his drink. He called for another. Marilou had the meanest cunt on the Gulf Coast-a regular snapping-turtle action. All redheads were that way, Billy Jack knew. He paid for his drink and took a deep swallow.
He'd have preferred to bring Marilou, but Norma Jean had been so nice, even if she was cold. But that would be over with in a few minutes-he was going to see to that! He was going to give Norma Jean a fuck she'd never forget. Married two and a half years, and not one really good piece of ass! It was outrageous. Norma Jean had screwed like a crazy possum before they got married. Then, all of a sudden, she just quit. Billy Jack would never be able to figure out why. He took another drink and shook his head. Women! You can't live with 'em and you can't hardly live without 'em. Money certainly doesn't satisfy them-what does?
He finished his drink and had one more quick one. Then he took the elevator up to the room and opened the door as quietly as he could. The sun was pouring in and he walked to the window to pull the drapes closed and almost fainted.
"My God Almighty," he said, "look at that down there! It's old Norma Jean, in the back of a big boat with some old fellow!"
Billy Jack walked into the bedroom to make sure Norma Jean wasn't sleeping-that the other girl might have just looked like her. But she wasn't there, and he ran back into the living room to look down again. "Yep," he said, "it's her, sure enough! Look at that bathing suit! She bought it three days ago at Krumbein's Dry Goods store."
Billy Jack was furious as he watched. The old man was serving drinks, pink drinks, from a shaker. And he was handling Norma Jean's tits. One hand was inside the top of her bathing suit. It occurred to him to run down but he was rooted to the spot, watching and becoming madder by the minute. Who the hell does she think she is? Then he almost opened the window to yell ten storys down just as she put her hand on his crotch. It looked like they were laughing and having a good old time.
That does it! Billy Jack resolved. He was going to run down and poke the old fool in the nose, but just then the man stood, untied the lines, started the boat and headed out into the Bay.
There was a telescope on the roof, Billy Jack remembered, and he ran out of the apartment suite and down the hall. Taking the stairs three at a time, he was on the roof in less than two minutes and his jaw dropped. The boat was really moving and he could just barely make out the form of his wife standing close beside the man. He ran to the telescope and aimed it at the boat and looked into the eyepiece. Nothing. Then he looked at the telescope. Twenty-five cents! The damned thing was coin operated, just like everything else. Fumbling in his pocket he was relieved to feel plenty of small change, and he pulled out a quarter and shoved it into the slot.
The telescope was high powered, and Billy Jack began to sweat freely as he watched the two occupants of the small cabin cruiser. He saw that the old man-somebody he didn't know-had his hand down the back of Norma Jean's bathing suit, and was touching her ass. The thought of some old guy handling his wife's ass made him madder yet, and he was annoyed to feel that he was growing a hard-on. He cursed himself for that. Then, all of a sudden, the boat stopped and the old fellow put his arms around Norma Jean and they both sank to the deck. Billy Jack could barely see them, but they were big as life. He hoped the boat wouldn't swing around and block his view. .
It didn't. They seemed so close that Billy Jack didn't dare breathe. His blood ran cold even though he was sweating like a cane-cutter. Now the old man was pulling her bathing suit off and she was lowering his. He had a skinny little cock. How the hell can Norma Jean horse around with something like that? Billy Jack wondered. He watched the two, now completely naked. Norma Jean was on her back, her knees up and her legs spread apart. He could see every hair on her cunt. Then she was blocked. The guy was on her and they began fucking, pumping.
Billy Jack didn't know why he was watching it all. He was so angry he made a note to kill that old guy and slap Norma Jean around properly when they got back. As he watched her fingernails digging into the man's back and her legs jerking and twisting, he was once again aware of his nervous erection. What kind of a nut am I? he asked, shaking his head. Do I get kicks watching my own wife being fucked by some stranger? Billy Jack couldn't understand it but continued to watch as the two animals humped and fucked harder and harder. He was becoming more furious by the minute when all of a sudden the telescope went black.
"Shit!" he exploded, and reached into his pocket for another quarter. Nothing. He grabbed all the change and brought it out. Opening his hand, he blinked at the coins in the bright sunlight. Five dimes, two nickels and four pennies. And a lucky silver dollar. He knew the machine wouldn't take two dimes and a nickel, so he raced toward the door to the stairway.
Just then a very husky maid walked out of that door.
"Pardon me, do you have a quarter for two dimes and a nickel?"
"Mister, I ain't got a quarter for three dimes and a nickel."
Without a word Billy Jack ran through the door and raced down the stairs. His temples were pounding and his legs felt weak.
Sapphire Carbo had worked at the hotel for six years, and not one thing escaped her attention. She walked slowly over to the telescope, thoughtfully jingling a half-dozen quarters in her pocket. Her eyes moved from the telescope to the boat about a half-mile away and she hit the meter stoutly with the pink palm of her hand. It clicked and she bent down to see what had given that sweaty man such a hard-on.
"My, my," she said, "now look at that, would you!" She saw the man's cock plunging in and out of the naked woman's cunt just as clearly as though she were peering in through a keyhole. They were fucking up a storm, and were both wet. The woman had a look of pure bliss on her face and she was hunching up as hard as she could, close to her orgasm.
She watched as the woman began her climax. She saw her hips rise jerkily to meet the man's thrusts and saw her tongue move back and forth across her lips. She'd seen that lust leer a thousand times before, but it always made her glad to see two people making it. She heard the door behind her slam, but she didn't look up, the show was too good.
"Hey you," Billy Jack yelled, "get on away from there. Go on ... git!" He tried to push the stout Negro woman away.
"Now, is that any way for a gennlm'n to be akkin?" Sapphire asked, still watching. She knew he couldn't budge her and she had no intention of moving just when it was getting good.
"I said, move on, lady."
"Wut business is it of yours wut's goin' on in the Bay?"
"That's my wife out there!"
Sapphire's laugh carried a quarter mile. "Man," she said, still laughing hysterically, "you white folks sho' is crazy! You mean you been watchin' yo wife gittin' fucked? And spendin' good money to do it?"
"Move over, lady!" Billy Jack exploded. The maid looked like an overgrown gorilla and he knew he couldn't beat up on her, but he had to see what was going on out there. That man might be killing Norma Jean.
"Hey, man," Sapphire laughed, "looky on here, you oughta like this, hee hee." She stepped aside and slapped her thigh with one broad hand as she continued to hick and laugh.
Billy Jack looked and saw his wife kneeling before the man. He was pouring two more drinks and she was licking his cock as if it were a lollipop. Billy Jack shuddered. He felt like crying.
Sapphire smiled and slapped him heavily on his thin shoulder. "That get you down, man?" she asked. "Don' let it, no how, no way. All us wimmen fucks, man. Why, I have some girls right cheer in dis here place which could suck you up and spit you out. Man, I can make you forget all
'bout that ol' lady of yours!" She smiled and bared teeth the size of post cards. They were sparkling white.
Billy Jack was stunned. His wife was sucking a stranger's cock. He didn't know what to say.
"Man, I gots redheads, blondes, brunettes-wut you want? Fust pop is fo' free!" Sapphire was still smiling.
Billy Jack couldn't believe his ears. He heard his voice saying sure, why not?
Norma Jean loved frozen Daiquiris. And she'd always wanted to be a famous movie star. It was the luckiest day of her life when she'd met Irving Steinbloch, from Hollywood. He was going to sign her to a contract if she was photogenic and could act.
She'd spent most of the afternoon posing in Mr. Steinbloch's suite, first in clothes, then in her underwear, then in the nude. He was going to have his films sent out but Norma Jean didn't understand. She thought he was using a Polaroid camera. But she knew Hollywood producers were awfully eccentric, and decided not to upset him by asking silly questions. A seven-year contract, with personal appearances at Reno and Vegas. Starting salary in six figures. Norma Jean smiled. She knew that was a lot of money.
Fucking Mr. Steinbloch was what he called method acting, doing the Stanislovsky procedure, he had said. Everybody knows that. It's what is the real clue to a girl's potential on the screen. Acting, really getting into it. Now, pouring her drink, he was having his cock lapped clean.
"Baby," he said, "you'll be a ringer, real box office. I want you to be sure to give me your correct address, including Zip Code. Must have the Zip Code, baby, Zee Eye Pee ... Zip! And you'll be getting your contract in a week, baby. But don't rap it around, huh? Our talent hunt is tippy-top-secret. Can't have UA and API knowing we're collecting new stars now, can we baby?" He smiled down at the young woman kneeling before him.
Norma Jean knew Mr. Steinbloch was an important man. He smoked very large cigars and had a cabin cruiser. And she knew she had read about him somewhere. But they never showed his pictures at the Roxy. Mr. Steinbloch explained all about that-distribution and all. The Roxy couldn't afford his films.
She smiled as she noticed his prick was hardening once again. Her audition was going well, she knew. If nothing else, Norma Jean thought, I can turn any man on. She was looking forward to having his prick in her cunt again. Hollywood! The bright lights! She'd drive through Biloxi in a new Cadillac, and she'd be able to get rid of Billy Jack and maybe marry Bobby, or even Mr. Steinbloch. Yeah, and be a famous Hollywood producer's wife. Mrs. Norma Jean Steinbloch. No ... Annette Steinbloch ... or Adriadne Steinbloch. Yes!
Billy Jack was numb as he sat in the cool, dark bar. Sapphire was sending a girl down, free. He said he didn't really care what kind of a girl if she was good-looking and sexy. Sapphire had flashed her gigantic teeth and told him not to pay that no never mind, she'd be a regular fox, the one he'd get. "Yessirree," she'd laughed, "I'll send Pistol down to you, man. She'll show you how to get yo'sef outten' 'at whale."
And now Billy Jack was on his seventh gin and tonic of the day. He was thinking about Pistol and about Sapphire. He'd never screwed a really huge colored gal. He was twenty-one even before he knew that white girls did it. Then he got married to Norma Jean and found out he wasn't far from wrong. Fifteen-year-old Louella Maxwell Jones was much better than Norma Jean, then so was Marilou Parkins, and she was a white girl. Marilou was half-rattlesnake, the way she could wiggle her tail.
Would Sapphire be any good? Billy Jack noticed that his pants were tenting in his lap, and his cock was the pole. He'd never been so sexy in his life. He imagined himself tangled up in the huge woman's brassiere, struggling with her cotton boxer shorts, getting lost in the folds or between those monstrous tits. And he wondered if she'd give milk. He'd heard they do. God, he said, those teeth. It frightened him to think about having her suck his cock. She could bite it off like a toothpick. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to have a gang-bang with the big one and all her little helpers. He was signaling for another drink as she walked into the bar.
The girl was about five feet tall and weighed maybe one hundred and five. She had the most fantastic shape Billy Jack had ever seen and she glided across the floor ... she didn't walk. It wasn't until she sat down in his booth that he saw she was colored. Her skin was light and her face was that of a love goddess. Almond-shaped brown eyes were framed by long, silky eyelashes. Her smooth black hair cascaded down her back to her waist, and her lips were like no other lips Billy Jack had ever seen. Pistol was a queen.