Chapter 2
Russ Bates was using the supple strength of his six-foot-one build in his favorite hobby. The nude body of the girl the good-looking, curly-haired Russ was about to screw in bed responded passionately to his caresses. Not bad going he thought, for a bar pickup of less than thirty minutes ago. Her name was Linda and he hadn't even gotten a good look at her in the half-light of the bar-but he was sure feeling up her voluptuous tits and ass now.
His hump-desire became roused to fever pitch as he felt a pair of sensuous lips and flicking tongue roaming warmly across his chest. He really began to vibrate as her tongue worked down and warmly invaded his navel. He kneaded her full luscious breasts as they dangled over his torso while she was kissing him. Their large, jutting nipples were springily erect in his fingers. Before he could stop her, Linda's head ducked down and he felt his throbbing, tremendous cock thrilling to a satiny smooth engulfing moistness. She was giving him a blow-job. As her tongue worked lustfully on the head and thick shaft of his prick he no longer wanted to stop her. He wanted her to go on and on-but sudden, surging ecstasy made him shoot his load of hot creamy scum right down her throat in the throes of seething joy. Later he gasped, "Linda baby, you took my cock by surprise-but I loved every minute of it!"
Flattered, Linda showed him she could be just as good conventional style too. Both the blow job and the regular hump had been great.
The next morning he was not the least bit displeased at what he saw as he stood beside the bed and looked down at her. She was in her middle twenties, as he'd figured, and the hair on her head was a true reddish-brown. Her flesh which was the color of rich vanilla ice cream, formed itself into two tempting tits on her chest, with maraschino cherries decorating them. Her cherry-like nipples looked mighty good to him.
Russ let his gaze sweep like a paintbrush down her svelte body, across her slim waist where her belly-button dimpled the gentle rise of her stomach . ..
The longer Russ stood there and the longer he looked at the girl, the more he wanted to fuck her again. He decided it was time to wake her up and let her do something about his fresh hardon, if she had a mind to.
So he bent over the supine form and gently but firmly touched her cuntlips with his cock.
"Unnhh ..." she said and wriggled some more, her kips twisting as she sought to roll over. But of course she couldn't do that because Russ was firmly positioned against her. All she succeeded in accomplishing was to press closer against him.
Russ liked that also, and he liked the progress his hardon had made into her cunt-hole as a result of her hip-wriggling act. In fact, he had darned near shoved his dick in so far that he could complete this hump with a single move.
He didn't want to act just that way, however. He wanted to wake her up gradually and let the realization of his big prick in her twat slowly form in her consciousness until the truth of it finally arrived and she found herself caught in the excitement of sort of being raped in her sleep.
So he pressed gentry, gaining on his objective. Contenting himself with that for the moment, he bent his head to her tits and touched a cherry-like nipple with his tongue.
Whether it had been the additional shoving-in of his dong or the nipple-touch that had done it he didn't know, but Linda began to wake up. She blinked her eyes just as he lifted his lips from her crisp nipple and was about to similarly titillate its still soft twin.
He stopped, however, midway in his tit-sucking and grinned at her.
Linda stared up at him and said, with apparent surprise, "It's morning!"
"Hell, yes, it's morning," Russ agreed cheerfully his eyes twinkling. "My cock has mounted his perch and begun to crow."
Linda's gaze widened as she pushed at his thick hairy chest and realized that his dick was in her cunt. "Move away!"
"Oh, no," he said, still grinning at her, and bent to the nipple toward which he had been headed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Linda squealed as she tossed her shoulders.
He had her cunt well enough pinned by that time so that the shrug accomplished nothing but shoving his dong into her pussy up to his balls. As for her shoulder-tossing, that merely succeeded in shaking and hobbling her knockers against his lips, which Russ didn't mind at all.
Just before capturing a cherry-red nipple, Russ answered the question she asked him. Being a man given to vulgarity when the occasion seemed to warrant it, he phrased the answer in a most positive and graphic way.
"I think I'm going to fuck you again, babe!" he said. And then he pulled her nipple to his lips.
"Oh!" Linda cried out, her tone seeming to suggest shocked anger.
This didn't discourage Russ. He had immense confidence in his powers of persuasion. But it did cause him to conclude that he had played long enough, however, and that it was time to start frigging with vigor.
Accordingly, he started shoving his cock up her cunt furiously and gloried at the cry which broke from her parted lips.
"How's that now?" he demanded, running his hands down beneath her until they each grasped a springy asscheek. He was ready to go.
"Move away!" she cried.
"You don't really want me to do that... yet," he murmured as he nipped at her ear.
"I do so! Get away. It's morning and it's light and ... well, we shouldn't be fucking now!"
"Like hell," he said softly.
As she began to fight him, he moved back a little and then screwed her cunt even faster. "Ooh..." Linda moaned.
"Help out with a little pussy-action, why don't you?"
He knew good and well that she could have made things rough for him if she'd wanted to. She could have scratched at his face and kneed him in the side and God knows what else she could have done. But he was sure she wouldn't. After all, her reluctance only stemmed from a kooky notion of modesty, he believed, remembering how she'd insisted on keeping the light off the night before. He figured she was old enough to get over such silly ideas about screwing and that he should help her do so.
So he continued to be as helpful as possible, fucking her excited twat with steady vigor, and it wasn't long before she had abandoned all pretense of objection and was accepting his thrusting cock in an enthusiastic way.
He was fucking with the relentless efficiency of an experienced whoremaster. Her arms were around his back and her claw-like nails were digging into him.
"Oh, what your cock does to me!" she exclaimed, "I never knew a guy who could fuck like you! Oh, Russ!"
She began to urge him to screw faster. She slipped her hands down his back and she began to press his ass to her frantically. She was gasping, her head rolling from side to side.
"Let 'er rip, baby!" Russ gasped, continuing his steady screwing. "I can ... make you "come" twice. Just ... let yourself go!"
He released her and froze, trying to remain as stationary as possible while she frigged her burning cunt up and down his rigid cock. Then at just the right moment, Russ unleashed a burst of brutal, fast fucking in her vagina that made her howl-literally-and then halt, seeming to hang suspended for a while before she collapsed, moaning and clutching him to her.
He remained quiet, enjoying her shuddering "come". When her arms had slackened about him, her head had lolled to the side, and her vagina had stopped flooding with hot cunt-juice once more. "Oh, nohh ..." she whimpered.
t(Yes," he contradicted simply and kept on fucking.
Slowly. Surely. Powerful. Russ had a wonderful sense of rhythm. He should have been a drummer.
He seemed to have all the time in the world that morning. He could sense the big moment creeping up for him, but that was still a long ways off. Advancing slowly, just step by step.
Linda wasn't helping. She wasn't moving and she wasn't pulling against him. She was limp as a bag of laundry, but her cunt was burning... The finish wouldn't be long off, though, he knew. He kept fucking.
Finally she began to respond. She looked at him and he saw that her eyes were growing tense. Good.
He took his hands away from her asscheeks and brought them out and up to squeeze the soft mounded globes of her tits. As he continued to work, he bent his head and kissed first one of her nipples and then the other.
Linda began to talk, "Oh, God! Again. Oh, again! Oh. Oh, Russ! Mmm ... honey ..."
Gradually - expertly - Russ began to pull the stops. His cock tempo increased and diminished. Faster, shorter, and harder. More. And more yet.
Linda cried out.
From the next door, through the wall, a man hollered, "Hold that down in there, will you?" Russ yelled back, "Go to hell!" Linda sighed. Russ fucked ...
They crashed and rocked in a torrent of wild, savage Then, with the suddenness and intensity of the flash preceding an explosion's roar, Russ began shooting huge globs of hot creamy scum into her twitching vagina as he "came." She screamed as orgasm tremors shuddered through her cunt and she felt his inundation of scalding no. After that, it was as if the roar was echoing through their ears for many moments before all became quiet and They rolled away, his cock now limp but slippery . with her cunt-juice and still dribbling sperm ...
"Gosh!" Linda said when she had partially caught her breath. "You're no man. You're a fuck-machine!"
Russ laughed heartily. He felt good. Damned good. His heart was throbbing, pumping the blood through him at am accelerated pace. He felt the tingle of it from the top of his head to the tip of each toe. Man, he was alive!
When he had savored the feeling at some length and had finally decided there was nothing more to be had from it, he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He stood.
"Mind if I hit the shower first?" he asked the girl who was still twitching from her "come", her eyes closed and her red-brown hair fanned against the pillow. "No," she breathed. "Go ahead." Russ smiled to himself as he walked to the bathroom. She'll probably go back to sleep, he thought. Well, they had been up late the previous night. And this morning he had really given her cunt a work-out. The success this most recent hump-performance gave him a special sense of pride.
There was no better prick-pusher anywhere, he said to himself as he adjusted the shower and stepped under the needle-like spray. He began to soap his hard bronzed body-thick chest, wide full shoulders, arms like corded steel. Then he ran his hands up and down the firm flat length of his middle.
Yeah, he thought again, no better cock in the whole blasted world! He laughed against the beating spray of the water.
Russ Bates was twenty-seven years old. He had been fucking since he was thirteen. About all he had to show for his life was the memory of a string of cunts as long as his arm, each one of which had given him its own special thrill. Vocationally speaking, he had gotten nowhere. In fact, he didn't even have a vocation. He had made his bread by a succession of different jobs which ranged from cattle-ranching to ditch-digging to tree-topping and including just about everything in between. Except that he'd never worked in an office or a store. Jobs like that were no good for a real man, he'd always thought.
It wasn't that Russ had no education. He had graduated from high school among the top quarter of his class. In the ten years since then, he had been no stranger to books. Whenever he had no hump-date of an evening, he preferred to read something interesting rather than to fritter away his time at a movie or in front of a T.V. set.
Another thing-he wasn't much of a drinker. He took a drink or two for sociability, but got no boot from dulling his mind with the stuff. Life was for living, he'd always thought. He liked life just the way it was and had no desire to escape.
Money had never represented much of a goal to him either. All he'd ever wanted was enough to keep him presentably clothed, to pay the upkeep on a set of wheels, to provide him with good food and a clean place to out.
He enjoyed working outdoors-being part of life in large sense, feeling the stream of it as it surged around through him. Of course, that attitude extended to and his sex-life. Usually Russ shunned cities. But once in a while curiosity brought him to the big towns. In his travels around the country he had become acquainted with Boston, Atlanta, Pittsburgh and Chicago. He knew L.A. and Phoenix, too. He'd never been to New York before this, He wanted to visit other place too. London, Milan, Athens. But he guessed he'd never make those stops. He'd never get to fuck foreign tail because that would take the kind of loot he never expected to have.
The thought of marrying and settling down had always given him a quiet laugh. That wasn't any life for a he had told himself. Oh, it might be all right when he got older, he'd conceded. Thirty-five or forty, maybe. That would be time enough to think of tying his prick down to one cunt. In the meantime, he had a few good roaming years ahead of him, he believed, and he was determined to make the most of them.
He happened to find himself in the New York area on this occasion because the construction job on which he'd been working had petered out. He'd taken most of the money he'd earned there and had sunk it into a late model Ford to replace the old heap he'd been driving. The rest of the dough he'd just about used up during the two weeks he'd spent in town. Now it was time to be moving along.
He hadn't decided yet just where he wanted to go. Maine, maybe, and try his hand at lumber jacking again. He liked it in the far northern part of the country. That was man's country.
The only trouble was that he didn't have enough green to take him as far as he wanted to go and to carry him a week or two until he lined something up.
Well, there was always El Ringo. He looked down at it gleaming through the water which cascaded over his left hand.
No doubt many persons who had noticed the huge square-cut diamond in its massive gold band had concluded that Russ wore it as a gesture of vanity. That wasn't so. The two-carat stone, for which he had laid out a cool thousand five years ago, had helped him out of many of a scrape. It was the only insurance he owned. He could pawn it for a couple of hundred just about anywhere, and that was always enough to tide him over until some wages started to flow.
He found that the ownership of El Ringo was more practical than carrying a couple of hundred in his shoe. Cash was too easily spent on the spur of the moment-in the heat of a poker game or the pursuit of a girl. As for the risk of carrying a stone that large on his finger, Russ' own size and obvious toughness had always protected it.
He finished his shower, toweled himself briskly, and walked into the bedroom. He found the girl Linda sitting up in bed with a sheet wrapped around her.
She was a pretty good piece of ass. Russ guessed that many a man would have been tempted to stay in town for a while with a twat this good on the string. But he wasn't that way. Fuck 'em and forget 'em was his motto! He had always tried to do his leave-taking gracefully, however. There was no percentage in making them sore.
Linda had been surprisingly cooperative last night, readily agreeing to come to his room. She'd happened to be in a horny mood, he supposed. He'd caught girls before who had been in that frame of mind-girls who were probably "nice" most of the time. There had even been a couple whom he'd picked up and fucked real quick, without using any love-talk at all, who had turned out to be virgins. He hadn't had to con Linda, either. He'd just bought her a few drinks, snuggled her a bit, and-zowie!
But now it was time to get out. The ball was over.
"You're next," he grinned pleasantly.
She had glanced quickly at him, then looked away. Now she pulled the sheet more firmly about her and stood up. "You sure don't believe much in covering up, do you?" she asked.
"What good is it?" Russ countered. "By the way, what are you hiding? Is there something about you I haven't seen?"
"I don't guess there is," Linda said, looking at him rather dreamily now. He had stepped into knitted cotton briefs.
"Honey," he began, not looking at her as he selected a shirt from a dresser drawer, "I've got a little business I have to take care of, so I probably won't be here when you get out of the shower."
"Oh?"
"I have to raise some cash. The old bank-roll is just about tapped out, and that means I'll have to high-tail it of town and scare up some work."
She hesitated before answering. "Can't you find something to do around here? There's lots of construction going on."
He had told her, the evening before, about the job he'd had near Smithtown.
"I don't like to work in the city," he said. "I think I'll head up north. Do some lumber jacking, maybe."
"Sounds exciting," she remarked without enthusiasm.
He buttoned his white sport shirt and grinned at her. "I'm one of the roving kind, as the old song used to say. Have to keep on the go."
"So it was just a hump for a night, huh?" Her tone had sharpened slightly.
"A fuckin' good night ... for both of us, wasn't it?"
She stared at him. "I was thinking that maybe ..."
He walked over to her and took her by the shoulders. "I know, Linda. But I'm just not that kind of guy. You deserve somebody more steady."
Linda said, "It's going to be awfully hard to say goodbye to someone like you, Russ. The men around here-well there's just no comparison."
"I know how it is Linda baby. But when you gotta go, you gotta go," Russ quipped.
Linda went to him her naked body gleaming in the; morning's light, and put her arms around his neck. She pressed her torso against him and began to grind her round belly and cunt with a sensuous rhythm. She put her hands on his asscheeks after a while and pressed him to her more closely. She uttered a glad little cry as she felt his cock erecting once again. With a quick motion she pulled his throbbing dong from his shorts and shoved its head between her cuntlips.
He backed her to the wall and gave her the fucking which she so boldly desired, thrusting into her until his balls were slapping against her cuntlips. She paced him eagerly with her frantic cunt and then convulsed in shuddering ecstasy. Russ stiffened suddenly as he shot a terrific load of sperm into her twat, and joined her in a blissful surge of pleasure as he "came" with her once again.
Man, he thought, it sometimes sure is hard to say goodbye.
Three...
C C. "Bull" Zelman could be patient when he had to, so he settled himself comfortably in his Continental. He had parked about thirty feet from Lynbrook's one and only pawn shop, near the railroad station. It also was the town sporting goods center, so it was a little hard for Bull Zelman to tell whether a guy was going in to get some fishing tackle or a fast loan. But this was a case where Zelman figured he'd recognize the right man for his job as soon as he saw him.
As he turned things in his mind behind the wheel of the expensive limousine, Zelman hoped his man would turn out to be someone going in for a loan. A guy who could use a fast buck right away was the man Zelman wanted.
Provided, of course, that other qualifications in the looks and stud department were okay.
As the morning wore on, and Bull kept a close eye on the parade of characters going into the store, he began to worry a little. So far all he'd spotted were middle-aged married guys going in to buy bait for a big fishing week-end, or spindly little clerks going in to make a fast fifteen dollar loan until payday. Then Bull suddenly perked up. He opened the door of his car and with a few quick strides of his thick-set frame he confronted the ruggedly handsome, slightly surprised Russ Bates.
Zelman stepped close to him and said, "'Scuse me, Mack, but maybe you and I should have a little talk before you walk in there."
Russ looked him over. "Yeah?"
He figured the short stocky man for a peddler of some sort. He would probably roll up his coat sleeve and show a row of watchers, Russ thought. Still, maybe not. The guy was pretty well-dressed.
"I'm looking for a man to do a little job for me," Bull said. "You interested in picking up a few bucks ... real easy?"
"I'm heading out of town," Russ replied. He was curious, though. He wondered what sort of pitch the thick-set man would give him.
'This job's out of town," Bull said. 'It will only take you a day or two. There's five hundred in it."
"Five hundred?" Hell, five bills would suit Russ just fine. But what would he have to do?
Bull nodded toward an open-air sandwich stand on the other side of the pawn shop. "Let's get some coffee, huh? We can talk about it."
Russ shrugged and walked along. "How did you know I was out of work?"
"You were heading into a hock shop, weren't you?"
"I could have been going to buy something."
"Uuh-uh," Bull said. "Not the way you were walking. Buyers move along slow and they stop to look in the window first. You were coming to make a quick money deal."
"Pretty good," Russ remarked as he slid onto a stool beside the man.
"You want a doughnut or something?" Bull asked. "Not at a joint like this," Russ said. "Just coffee. There isn't much they can do to that."
Bull smiled in satisfaction. This guy might do just fine.
He ordered two coffees.
"Cigar?" he asked, taking a leather pouch from his ant pocket and flipping it open. Russ shook his head.
Bull put the pouch back. He still had a couple of to go on the one he was smoking. "Who do you want me to kill for you?" Russ asked with a grin.
The thin-faced counter man gave him a look. So did Bull. For a moment, Bull almost blanched. Then he returned the younger man's smile.
"Nothing like that," Bull said. "I want you to help me locate somebody." "Yeah?"
Bull waited until the counter man had moved away frost them. There's this babe. She's staying around Lynbrook."
Russ nodded.
"She used to live in New York. She and I were sort of ... uh, friendly you know. We had a little fuss and she ran ml I'd like to find her and get her back."
Russ looked at the man's face. "Sounds like your best bet is a private detective." "Uuh-uh. I'm a married man. I don't want to get a detective agency involved in this. I'd have to tell 'em who I was or they wouldn't take the case. Too risky. You don't know me, see. I could be anybody, as far as you're concerned. Right?" Russ nodded, still studying him. The babe used to call herself Jean Ludlow, but she's probably using another name now. I suppose she's dyed her hair too. The only thing I can tell you about her is that she's ..." Bull stopped talking as the counter man brought them mugs of coffee.
Zelman piled in three spoonfuls of sugar, then cream Russ pulled his cup over in front of him and decided to let it cool for a while before he took it black.
"As I was saying," Bull went on, "she's got a birthmark on her leg. Pretty high up. It's on the outside of the right one. And it's in the shape of a strawberry."
"This is wild," Russ remarked as he looked at the man beside him.
"What do you mean wild? I just want to locate her. You could stay around Lynbrook, spend a day or so circulating around until you spot her, then let me know what name she's using and where she lives. That's all I want."
"And how the hell do you expect me to go about it?" Russ asked, lifting his coffee mug. "All you've told me about her is that she's got a birthmark high on her leg. You want me to walk up to every dame in town and ask them to hike their skirts? Hell. I'd get my face slapped right away."
"I thought you said you knew Lynbrook? It's practically a beach town. The girls around there all wear shorts. You'll see the birthmark. It ain't gonna be any strain."
Russ sipped the hot coffee. "If it's that simple, why don't you do it yourself? And why are you willing to pay five hundred bucks?"
" 'Cause in the first place," Bull said, speaking softly but intensely as he leaned forward, his face turned to look the younger man in the eyes, "if this girl sees me in town she might do a runout before I can get to talk with her. Also, my time's too valuable. I've got a business to take care of in the city. I'm offering five hundred 'cause it's worth that much to me. Anyway, I don't figure a guy like you would be interested in fooling around over there for much less."
Russ looked him over pretty well, then said, "It still sounds wild to me."
Bull turned to face the front. "Okay. If you don't want it, just say so.
"I could use the dough," Russ said and sipped from his cup.
Bull looked at him again. "Does that mean you'll do it?"
"Not so fast. Those five bills are in advance ... right?"
"Unh-uh," Bull said. "Two now and the rest when you tell me where the girl lives." "No dice," Russ told him. "Why not?"
"I could be stuck in that forsaken town for a month, lacking for a needle in a haystack."
"It won't take that long," Bull said. "This will be a "five hundred in advance," Russ said firmly, looking to the front. "And another five when I deliver." "Are you nuts?" Bull snapped. Russ shrugged and said nothing. This job ain't worth a thousand clams." "To me it is."
Russ had no doubt that the hawk-faced man hadn't told him the whole story. The deal was shady, otherwise the joker wouldn't have approached him the way he had. And he wouldn't have offered even five hundred. Might as well get as much as the traffic will bear, Russ thought. He wondered who the girl was and why the fat man was so hot to locate her.
"I'll tell you," Bull said. "Well make it three now and three later. Okay?"
"Five and five," Russ said.
"Listen ... you gotta be reasonable."
Russ dragged at his coffee and said nothing.
"Okay. Okay. Four and four. Now that's positively my tops. Take it or I find myself another boy."
I'll take it," Russ said, figuring he had driven himself a good bargain.
"By the way," Russ said, "we haven't introduced ourselves yet."
He could hear the other man's sigh of relief.
"That's part of the deal, remember? You don't know me and I don't know you."
Russ looked at him. "Then how am I going to contact you?"
"Put an ad in the Times personal column. Give me a phone number to call. Address the ad to Dave and sign it Eddie."
Russ laughed. "This is really the damnedest! Tell me this: What makes you think I won't just take your four hundred and high-tail it to parts unknown?"
"I trust you," Bull said. "Ain't you ever heard of trust? Besides, you wouldn't do that. It wouldn't he healthy."
"How do you figure?" Russ asked into his cup as he took the last of the coffee.
"I got a little influence," Bull said carefully. "And I don't like to be crossed."
"Still, I think it would be easy."
"You think wrong, friend."
Russ regarded the other man as if he was a museum freak, then shook his head and grinned. "I've heard some wild ones, buddy, but..."
"You ready to collect the money and get started?" Bull asked.
Russ shrugged. "Might as well."
Bull nodded toward the street. "Let's go."
Russ followed him. When they were on the sidewalk and away from the sandwich stand, Russ grasped Bull's arm. "Where do I have to go to get the loot?"
"You're on the corner where it ain't so crowded."
"You're gonna hand it over right now, huh? Spot cash?"
Bull nodded, squinting at him. They were standing in the middle of the sunny sidewalk with pedestrians washing! past them.
"How do I know you told me a straight story about wanting to find this girl?" Russ said.
"You don't." They looked at one another for a few moments. "I kinda thought my money would do the talking, anyway," Bull said.
"What if I fool around for a few days, and draw a blank? What then?"
"Come back to town and run the ad. I'll call you and we'll talk."
"You'll want your dough back if I decide to quit." Bull shrugged. "I'm a reasonable man. Anyhow, don't worry. You'll find the broad. Just look for the birthmark - about three inches long, shaped like a strawberry. It's on her right leg. You'll spot it. Hell, eight hundred bucks ain't bad pay just for lookin' at girls' legs." Russ had to admit he was right about that. "It's your money," he said.
They walked down the street and around into an alley where the Bull passed Russ the money. Russ didn't return to his hotel right away. He figured Linda might still be there. After he and the man had said goodbye, he sauntered over to a paperback book store, and stepped inside to browse.
He knew damned well the man had been stringing him. But the money handed out was real. Russ had never seen eight more beautiful portraits of President Grant. And he needed that loot right then.
As for spending a few days in Lynbrook, he had no objections. The Island was pleasant in June. The resort season would be getting into full swing and there'd be lots of girls around. Choice, vacation cunt. What more could an enterprising prick-pusher ask?
Finding the girl with the birthmark might be hard, though. Still, he'd give it a go for a few days while he spent two or three of the bills. He would still have enough left to pet him up north.
Russ smiled to himself. Just let the fat man try to get it back if the deal doesn't pan out. Russ ran an ad to contact him? Why should he do that if there wasn't mot* money to be had?
He remembered what the man had said about how it wouldn't be healthy for Russ to cross him. Was that all bluff, he wondered, or would "Dave" really be checking up on him somehow? But, hell, if there was another guy spotted in Lynbrook or ready to go there, what would the fat man have needed with Russ at all?
The damned thing stank like an old bucket of fish Russ wouldn't have had a thing to do with it if it hadn't been for those eight fifties that were begging to be picked How the hell could a guy turn them down?
This boy was either pretty smart, or else he was the biggest idiot who'd ever come down the pike. Russ couldn't decide which.
But he'd work on the deal. Why not? He'd give old "Dave" a run for his lettuce. After he found the girl - or he didn't-he'd decide what to do next.
The more Russ thought things over, the more he decided this was one of the queerest deals he'd ever gotten rung in on in his whole life. "Dave's" money certainly talked and he kept fingering the crisp bills in his pants pocket where he'd stuffed them. There was something the whole situation that didn't smell right-but first he'd find the girl and then play things by ear.
Russ left the store and headed back for the hotel he was staying at. Now that he was going to be in town a few more days at least, he was sorry that he had given Linda had walking papers that morning. He hoped, as he entered the hotel, that she might have come back for something, that he'd see her in the room. He still couldn't forget that wild fucking session earlier in the morning, and the way her attractive face and gorgeous naked body had seemed to wilt when he told her it was just a one night stand after all.