Chapter 6
Billy Jack's head was spinning after three large drinks, and he knew he was going to have a hard time getting Mrs. Stevenson out of the bar.
It wouldn't look very good if old Stevenson or one of the others saw them. They'd all talk and blow everything up and out of proportion. No, slipping out of the bar and through the lobby was going to be tough, or a matter of luck.
He could just see Ellen Speakman come up to them. Hell, he thought, old Ellen would run the other way-like a rabbit!
But now they were walking across the lobby, and the only person that even glanced at them was a husky young kid with a good tan and long blond hair. Probably the lifeguard or a guest.
Billy Jack was about to stop and go over to ask the kid what he was leering at. The kid saw him and his grin broadened and Billy Jack decided to skip it. He didn't want a scene, not when he was hustling his boss's wife up to his room!
The elevator was empty and the minute the door closed Mrs. Stevenson threw herself at Billy Jack and put his hand on her cunt. She wanted him to rub it for her, to keep it hot. And as the elevator went up, so did his cock, for the thought of shooting a gush of cum up old Stevenson's wife's belly made him sexy. Stevenson gave him a short-count once and Billy Jack never forgot that shit. What man would? What real man?
"You've got to fuck me, John," Sandy growled.
She was feeling like a slut, like the most common whore to ever push her cunt onto a stiff prick, and she liked it. In Des Moines she had to be careful because there she and Edmund were distinctly upper crust. Here she was a woman, any woman, a face in the crowd. Here she could do damned well as she pleased and who'd know? Who knew her from the other hundreds of thousands of people? Nobody! And now she unzipped his fly and reached into his pants.
"Ye gods, not here," he stammered. "Someone might get on!"
"Well, if they do, why-we'll have a party!"
"Let's go to my room, Miss Stevenson...."
"John, I wish you'd stop calling me Miss Stevenson. I am not a Miss and my name is Sandra. Call me Sandra."
"Sure thing, Sandra. And you call me Billy Jack. That's what my friends all call me-Billy Jack!" He smiled broadly.
The elevator stopped and the door slid open. Sandra's hand was stuffed in Billy Jack's fly and they walked down the hall just like that. Billy Jack was blushing-hoping nobody'd come out.
Just then a door did open and Sapphire strode into the hall. She stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open, exposing a very pink mouth and large teeth. She was speechless.
"Sapphire, hon'," Billy Jack said, "you wouldn't be followin' me 'bout, now, would you? Seems this is the third time...."
The hallway echoed with hilarious laughter and Sapphire swatted her huge leg with her pink palmed hand. "I do declare, Billy Jack, if yo' don' beat all! Yo' is too much!" She was laughing so hard she hardly made it back into the room she had been in.
Sandra was bewildered. "Friend of yours?"
"Might say so. Old gal is pretty good. I mean, she's a nice ol' lady. You should get to know her...."
Billy Jack wrestled the key out of his pocket and opened the door. He waited until Sandra was in; then he followed her and clicked the little top button by the latch so the door could be opened without a key. He really hoped Norma Jean would walk in on them. It would teach her an object lesson. Tit for tat!
Then he went to the window. That fucking boat was still out there and he knew what they were doing on it. They weren't fishing for no mullet, he thought, and that's for damned sure! He hoped she'd catch a mess of crabs, though. Would serve the bitch right! He watched Sandra as she sat down and he said, "Would you like an ice-breaker?"
"Silly, there's no ice down South. Just in the drinks."
"Well, let's break some of that if'n it's all we got."
Both were drinking gin and tonic and dancing lazily to the Muzak. Billy Jack held his drink with one hand and the crack of Sandra's ass with the other. She was holding his gear-cock, nuts and all-and was weaving like a half-drunk woman. She licked his cheeks whenever he got close enough. And Billy Jack smiled as he wondered how his cheeks tasted. He hadn't had a chance to wash his face since the orgy in the servants' quarters.
"Hey, Billy Jack, let's play Let's Pretend."
"Never played no pretendin' games. How's it go?"
"We pretend we're something else." She held his cock and was beating him off firmly. His finger was in her asshole and they were almost staggering as they were dancing to Moonlight in Vermont played by a pretty good orchestra. Muzak had some good music, but nothing like Roy Clark, Welk or Jackie Gleason.
Billy Jack was trying to lead and Sandra kept stepping on his feet so he smiled and told her she was pretty light on his feet. She stopped and laughed, pulling her air in with a muffled scream. Then she laughed some more and rocked so she almost spilled her drink. And Billy Jack wondered if she was crazy. "How do we play this pretend game you were talking about?"
"Well," she said, still laughing at his joke, "we both get to be anything we want to be and do anything we want to do to the other. Is that fair enough?"
"I'll tell you what, Miss Stevenson-I mean Sandra, I'll sure enough go along with you as long as you ain't some male kind of animal that's gonna stick me. No thin' that sticks me, hear?"
Sandra pouted. "Can't I be a horny gorilla?"
Billy Jack thought about Sapphire and blanched. He was going to comment but held back. He didn't know what to say; then it came to him. "Do I get first dibbies on pretendin'?"
"Sure, Billy Jack. What are you going to be?"
"An all-day sucker! One of those hard caramel ones that pulls your fillings out of your teeth."
"And what if I was an all-day sucker wrapper?"
"Gee, then I guess you'd have to wrap yourself all around me. But I was hopin' you were were going to be a nice little girl who loved to lap on suckers...."
"So I shall be, then! But I'm a kinky little girl. I put all kinds of things into my little bottom, then you suck on them."
Billy Jack felt the first wave of nausea wash over him just then, but he flooded it with a gulp of gin and tonic. Golly damn, he thought, some of these women are sure enough rotten to the core! He could just imagine what she was talking about.
They danced, feeling each other out and drinking more and more. Billy Jack noticed a strange thing about his woman at that moment, and he was annoyed about it. She was something of a bitch who acted like a two-bit whore. She had a dirty mouth and she grabbed too much. Besides, she was a drunken slob.
He pushed himself away from her and sneered. "Listen, you: are we going to piss the whole afternoon away or are you going to suck my cock?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, are you going to suck my cock?"
Sandra's mind was prepared for a good time in bed, but she didn't like to be treated like a whore by some backwoods character, so she tried to spin away from him and run for the door. She was horrified. Was this man going to rape her? Rape Mrs. Edmund S. Stevenson? It was too horrible-everything had gone wrong.
"Eat me!" Billy Jack growled.
Sandra struggled to escape as if Billy Jack were a monster.
"Get on your Goddamned knees and suck my cock!"
"I, I can't. Can't you understand?"
"I understand that you're a Goddamned prick teaser and you're going to suck my cock or you'll wish you had, you bitch!"
Sandra Stevenson's eyes were fastened on Billy Jack, and all of a sudden she threw her head back and split the silence with a scream. It sounded as if she was getting killed.
Billy Jack couldn't believe it. He leaped forward and slapped his cupped hand over her mouth and wrestled her to the floor.
"Shut up, you crazy bitch! You'll wake the dead!"
He banged the back of her head against the floor because she tried to bite his hand; then she went limp and he knew she was out like a light.
Billy Jack didn't give a damn. The bartender would say that she picked him up. He dragged her into the bedroom and lifted her up and laid her across the bed so that her knees were at the edge and her feet touched the floor. He flung the hem of her dress up and pulled her black panties down, leaving her garter belt and nylons on. She had a cunt, all right. He could see that.
Then he thought, well fuck a duck, what am I doing? Old Stevenson's gonna can my ass for sure for buggerin' his old lady after I knock her out. Well, done's done! May as well have me a little bit of upper-class cunt, now that the damage's done!
He stepped back and looked down at the quiet figure lying on the bed. Mrs. Stevenson, conqueror of men. And she was out as cold as an iced codfish. He stroked his cock.
Then it occurred to him that he would teach her a lesson. He'd fuck her silly, just jam it up and rip her out. Fine. His prick jumped up at the idea-it was ready.
It was about time she learned a lesson-high time!
He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants.
Then he pulled his knit sport shirt over his head and bent to remove his shorts. He stopped and looked down once again. Her cunt was wet and the lips were red and ready, hiding there under the curly black pubic hairs. His cock was standing out like an arm, the head was a fist.
Bending forward, he spread her legs apart until her thighs were spread wide enough for him to ease himself in comfortably. Then he crawled between her legs and guided the large meatus of his prick between the damp lips of her quiet twat.
She was good and tight, but the harder he jammed his cock in, the hotter he got.
With one forceful thrust he jammed his pulsing tool halfway into her wet but tight cunt. The lips were swollen and clasped at his shaft!
He was watching to see if she moved, but she was dead to the world.
"Well, find and dandy," he said, and pulled his hips back in position for the killing blow. He held her ass up with his two hands and gritted his teeth. Then, with all the strength he had, he slammed forward and sank his cock all the way up her cunt until his balls were slapping against the crack of her ass. Looking down, he could see it was all the way in, so he reached forward and unbuttoned the front of her blouse. She was wearing a flesh-colored bra, and he slid this over her tits and grabbed and squeezed them furiously as he pumped his loaded cock in and out of her cunt. The sucking sound was driving him crazy, and he began to ram her twat with all he had, holding her down and back with his hands on her melon-sized tits. She didn't blink or move a muscle and he continued fucking her, slamming her harder than he'd ever done before. Prick teaser, huh? Well, he smiled, I'll show you what prick teasers get where I come from!
He smiled more broadly as he heard the rhythmic squeaking of the bed, and he tried his hardest to make the bed squeak as loud as it could. He was falling heavily on her, and the bed groaned. His hands were brutally grabbing at the firm yet soft mounds of tit on her chest, and he thought about strapping her down for a few hours, reviving her and really fixing her ass. But he continued to throw himself down on the woman's sucking cunt, harder every time.
Norma Jean was happy as she stepped out of the elevator. Her job looked like a sure thing and she was going to have a late breakfast with Mr. Steinbloch the next morning, while Billy Jack was at another conference. Irving was finally happy. And Norma Jean knew that was good. Now all she wanted was a nice drink and a short nap. She'd been burned out there and would have to put some stuff on her seat.
She walked into the living room and stopped dead. Woman's shoes! In the middle of the floor! She quietly turned and opened the door and checked the number. She looked at her key. Well, she said to herself, somebody is sure enough in my room! She returned very quietly and listened. A squeaking noise from the bedroom!
She walked quietly to the door and peered in with only one eye and she almost screamed. Billy Jack was fucking a woman right there on the bed! Just like a common animal, fuckin' away for all he was worth, jus' like some bandy old goat! Just like a man, she thought. It occurred to her to bash him with the gin bottle, but she decided to watch.
She'd never seen him so wild. And the woman was just like a corpse under him. His back was to her and she couldn't see who the woman was, but, she said to herself, whoever she is, she's one bum lay. Probably eating bon-bons or maybe she fell sound asleep. Norma Jean felt like laughing, watching the poor jerk fucking away on a woman sound asleep.
But the longer she watched the madder she got. She walked into the room, very softly and watched. My God, she said to herself, she's dead! She wondered if Billy Jack had screwed her to death, but she knew better. Maybe he's practiced his insurance pitch on her. That was quicker than chloroform for putting somebody under. Boy, she thought, Billy Jack sure is mean to her.
She watched until she couldn't stand it any more. That old dead woman was getting something she wanted, and she yelled out, "Billy Jack, what y'all doin' on that poor old dead lady?"
Without missing a stroke he said, "I'm a'fuckin' her, stupid. What does it look like?"
"But why you fuckin' her?"
"Because it beats fuckin' you, you cheap whore."
"Now, Billy Jack, that's no way to be talkin' to your wife."
"I saw you in the boat, you cocksucker. Now, beat it or my prick will die and I'll have to whup you a good one."
"Billy Jack, you're sure fuckin' that one good and proper. How come you don't do me like that?"
"Scat-you're botherin' my erection and distrackin' me!"
"Billy Jack? I got good news for you. That man in the boat is a Hollywood man, Billy Jack, and he's gonna give me a seven-year contract...."
"For what, suckin' his skinny little cock? I hope you took him up on it. I don't have to hear your silly-ass voice when you got your stupid mouth occupied with a skinny little prick. Now, get yo' skinny ass out of here or I'll tear outta this bitch and into you, heah?"
Norma Jean walked over and sat on the bed beside Sandra's head. She picked up the rhythm and began bouncing along with it. She was watching her husband's prick slamming in and out of the woman's cunt. "Billy Jack? This is Mrs. Stevenson, i'n'nt it?"
"Yes! Now, shut up, I'm trying to make it."
"Billy Jack, how'd she get unconscious-she ain't dead, is she?"
"I hit her on the head like I'm going to hit you on the head when I'm through with her. Now shut yer damn mouth for a minute. I can feel it comin'."
"Billy Jack? Can I sit me on her face and make it along with y'all? I'm sexy. Then we can fuck us one time, Billy Jack."
"Sit on her, but shut yer damn mouth. And hurry!" He was pumping now, and beads of sweat were pouring down his forehead. He'd had eight orgasms so far, and trying for the ninth while having to look at Norma Jean was going to be a tall order. Then he saw her lift her dress and pull it off. She pulled her bathing suit off and climbed up and knelt and lowered her cum-sticky cunt on Mrs. Stevenson's face. The sight of that made Billy Jack shoot off right away and he slammed down and shot his shaft all the way up until he was sure he'd broken something in her stomach. And he emptied his nuts into her and hoped that she'd get damned good and pregnant. Serve her right. He had emptied himself and was still hard-he couldn't believe it!
"Norma Jean, you vile slut, while you're a'humpin' on that poor lady's face hold these legs up, will you? I'm gonna fuck her one in the asshole. He spread the sticky cum from her cunt down an inch and covered her tight asshole with the milky juice. Then he pointed his finger, took aim, and shot it right in up to the hand. "Now," he said, "I've greased her track. I'm gonna cut her one new asshole. What you smilin' about? You're next!"
Norma Jean looked at her husband and she thought she might have had him all wrong.
Sapphire walked over to empty out the cigarette butt pot between the handsome Latin-looking devil and the pale Northern girl. "Scuse me, sir," she said, "I didn't mean to bump y'all. Say, ain' you that fay-muss Eye-talian movie mongrel, Vittorio sum'pin?"
Loxley's eyebrow and mustache curled in unison at the intrusion. "No, but perhaps you saw me last time you were at La Scala in Milan? I played Tosetti Virgolesi...."
Sapphire's eyes widened. "I jes knowed I seed you, yass suh!" She slapped his hand and moved on, chuckling to herself.
A puzzled expression swept over Loxley's face as he fingered the small folded piece of paper the Negro woman had slapped into his hand. "Excuse me, Debbie," he said. "I'll bring us more Coke."
Once away he read the note. "Room 216 at six. I have what you want. Bring no money but come prepared for a ball."