Chapter 13
Dorinne Lee, call girl de-luxe for Harrison City's upper crust, only opened her apartment door slightly. It was just after dinner and she was expecting one of her clients, a well-to-do businessman. But a foot had been placed in the door, it had been shoved open and two men breezed in.
"Headquarters squad," one of them had said to Dorinne, "come on, get dressed. You're coming downtown with us."
One of the men called Glennon, was bald, thickset and heavy; the other, kind of a wispy lightweight She heard the older man call him Ferdy. They were like no detectives she had ever met before, but in her exposed position she couldn't afford to kick up a fuss. She decided to go along with the gag whatever it was. She made her payments regularly to a bag man in the police department. Once she got downtown and saw a few officials, she'd be sent back in a police car, and these crumbs would get what they deserved.
She had been taken downtown all right, but it hadn't been to Police Headquarters. They had hurried her into the side entrance of some office building and hustled her into a service elevator. She shuddered with fear when she heard the man called Glennon tell Ferdy and another who had driven the car, 'Take her down to the morgue, it's real quiet there now."
She was a little relieved when she went through corridors stacked to the ceiling with bound copies of newspapers. Hell, this must be a gag, she thought to herself. These guys weren't detectives, they were newspaper reporters.
As the man called Glennon looked at her, she smiled with professional poise and said, "I don't know what you boys are up to, but there's been some mistake!"
"No mistake, Dorinne. We want you to answer a few questions."
"Is this some kind of a joke?"
"We didn't bring you down here as a practical joke, babe. We've got to find out what happened to Bill Fogarty," Glennon said.
"I never heard of him in my life. Reporters can't afford my rates."
Dorinne was sitting on a chair in the center of the room, the only illumination a single naked electric bulb in the ceiling. The place reminded her of some dungeon with its eerie atmosphere. When she got away from them, she'd use her pull in various places to fix their wagons, but good!
Glennon took a photo from an inside pocket of his jacket and thrust it before her face.
"Have you ever seen this man before?"
She was startled, took a second look at the picture and crossed and recrossed her legs in her nervousness. Now things were becoming clear to her. Bill Fogarty, the man in the picture, was that wise-guy reporter she had hired to the strong-arm boys.
"I can't tell you anything," Dorinne said trembling. Jack Pierce had told her they were only going to teach the reporter a little lesson. What had she gotten mixed up in here?
"I'm giving you one last chance to cooperate with us, Dorinne. I want to know what's with Bill Fogarty, who put you up to this and why? We're newspapermen, remember. The cops will be a lot rougher on you," Glennon told Dorinne.
The voluptuous call girl shook her head even more violently and repeated, "I don't know anything. I can't tell you anything."
Glennon shook his head resignedly, saying, "Okay, you asked for it. Strip her, Benny!"
Benny Dowd was short, but with a stocky brawny build and strong, well-muscled arms. He had a dark, greasy skin, and looked like a hood even though he was only the "Sun's" sport's reporter. He leered at Dorinne when Glennon spoke, stamped out his cigarette and licked his lips as he approached the attractive girl. Her gorgeous tits were heaving agitatedly and she was ready to fight him off. But the three reporters had her surrounded in a flash.
While Glennon and Ferdy held her wriggling body, Benny expertly unzipped her blouse, unhooked her bra and her luscious white breasts, tipped with her unusually large, dark-red nipples, were swinging free. Benny Dowd's eyes almost popped as he took in Dorinne's magnificent knockers. He was a hard-up bachelor and would enjoy what was coming.
Dorinne struggled and tried to cover her exposed tits.
She had always had one cardinal rule as a call girl. She had never gone in for orgies or fucking for more than one man at a time. She specialized in the romantic "girl friend" approach. Now, she felt shame as the three men drank in the beauty of her nude, heaving breasts and feared what was coming.
Glennon's hard voice enlightened her soon enough.
"So, reporters can't pay your rates," he sneered. "Well, Dorinne, you're about to make a most unusual contribution to the Reporter's Welfare Fund, by fucking for nothing with the three of us right here."
Dorinne gasped, "Oh, no!"
"Oh, yes," Glennon continued, "we're going to take a free helping of your stock in trade. The three of us can keep fucking you indefinitely in shifts. But that cunt of yours may be out of business for months after we're through!"
The hard-boiled editor reached out and clasped the luscious melons of her breasts in his hands. He rolled each of her protruding nipples between a thumb and forefinger and then squeezed them hard. Dorinne yelped with the sudden, intense pain.
"That's just a sample. Got anything to tell us," Glennon asked.
Dorinne defiantly shook her head.
"Okay, Benny, you take over," Glennon ordered.
Benny's stocky body and long arms made him look ape-like as he advanced on the half-nude Dorinne. She was panic-stricken as the smirking Benny grabbed her shoulders and started to push her towards a comer of the room. There was a cot there that she hadn't seen before in the dim light. He thrust her on the hard, blanket-covered cot. Even as she struggled and squirmed on her back, Benny quickly stripped off her tight toreador pants. Off came her panties.
There was a zipper sound and she saw that Benny's huge cock was ready for business.
As Benny quickly pulled down his pants, it mortified Dorinne as she realized that this brawny creep was going to get a hundred dollar fuck out of her for nothing and that his two pals were watching the whole show. Benny held her shoulders down as he got on the cot. Her luscious breasts flattened against his chest and her thighs and buttocks squirmed to avoid his thrusting, eager cock.
She continued to wriggle away, but as Benny roughly parted her legs, she decided it would be easier on her if she stopped struggling and got this fuck over with quickly. She let Benny's hands cup her full, firm asscheeks and then with practiced skill, guided his enormous cock to the woman heat of her cunt. With quick rhythmic grinds of her lovely belly and hips, she professionally worked Benny's pecker to its ultimate pitch. He made noise like an animal as he lunged into Dorinne like a pile-driver and then his scum-spurting cock was stiffened convulsively by a rush of peak pleasure as he shot his load into her cunt.
Dorinne just lay quietly under Benny until he had stopped heaving and groaning. When he pulled his limp cock out of her cunt, she wanted to sit up on the cot, but her shoulders were pinned down again. With dismay, she saw the wiry Ferdy Hughes, trousers already off, climb on the cot. His hands made for her tits and he began to caress diem. He pinched her nipples hard and laughed when she winced. That probably excited him she saw because he already had a big hard-on. Dorinne decided to follow the same "get the fuck over with" routine as with Benny. She drew Ferdy's throbbing dick into the warmth of her gently rhythmic cunt. As Ferdy thrust, Dorinne began a quick, frantic wriggling motion with her thighs and buttocks. She was giving him her "express train" cock-treatment. Before Ferdy knew what was happening he stiffened as uncontrollable floods of sperm jolted through his prick into her cunt He moaned with pleasure, then muttered, "Thanks, baby," and rolled off the cot.
Dorinne knew better than to try to get up. Now, the thick and brawny Glennon was upon her. He grabbed the cones of her breasts in his large hands and slowly and deliberately squeezed them until Dorinne cried, "Stop, you're hurting me!"
Glennon then put his lips over her strawberry-like nipples. After flicking them with his tongue, he bit down on their rigid perfection until she screamed out, sure he had drawn blood. Glennon was rougher on her than the other two men and this seemed to have roused his cock to a pulsating fever pitch. Glennon put his weight on Dorinne and she felt her breasts flatten against his hairy chest. She parted her thighs and enveloped Glennon's driving prick within her sperm-slippery cunt. As he was bathed in her twat's warm moistness, she engulfed him in a weaving, sensuous rhythm. With Glennon, she was professionalism at its best-cunt, thighs, and luscious buttocks a symphony of male desire being satisfied. Glennon groaned with pleasure as he ground her belly against him. Suddenly, his thick dick felt as if a jolt of lightning had struck him. As he felt the currents of spurting sperm drain out of him, Glennon, breathing hard said, "I've got to admit you're some lay, baby! But we're ready to fuck you like this all night unless you talk. And if I have to, I'll bring in another shift of prick-pushers!"
Dorinne looked up at the three men from the cot. She saw that the smirking Benny Dowd's cock was erect and was all ready to go again. He was so anxious to shove it in her cunt again, he hadn't even bothered to put on his pants. She realized that all they had to do was keep on fucking and it would be a long time before she would be able to screw for a living again, or worse. She sat up on the cot, heaved a long sigh, and said to Glennon. "Okay, I know when I'm licked. I recognized the guy in the picture, it was Bill Fogarty."
"That's a good girl, Dorinne," Glennon said. "Now, what do you know about his disappearance?"
She put on her panties, then her toreador pants. As she fastened her bra, Glennon handed her blouse to her. Now that this whore was going to talk, he could afford to be a gentleman.
"Somebody phoned me and told me to go out to Manetti's and I'd meet Bill Fogarty in a room. They'd give me three hundred dollars. I was supposed to fuck for him and show him a good time. And when three of the boys came to teach him a lesson, I was supposed to keep my mouth shut. Three boys did show up and took him out to give him a hazing-and that's all I know."
Glennon asked curtly, "Who was it that called you and paid you for the set-up at Manetti's?"
As Dorinne hesitated, he said, "Out with it, or we start the cot routine all over again!"
"Jack Pierce," she whispered. "Jack Pierce called me and told me it was going to be a kind of joke on a smart aleck reporter."
"His wife and kids don't think the joke was very funny ... neither will the police," Mice Glennon said.
Ferdy Hughes and Benny Dowd looked at Glennon with smug grins.
"Guess that ties up all the loose ends, eh, boss?" Ferdy smirked.
"An but one," Glennon muttered. "What the hell really happened to our man Fogarty? We've got Jack Pierce in this thing up to his neck ... hey, look, Benny, stay away from that broad. Funny as it seems, this is a newspaper assignment and not a frigging line-up any more."
Benny dutifully slunk away from Dorinne. She muttered imprecations and threats at the hard-boiled editor Glennon. He ignored her and discussed the case with his two reporters.
"You boys take Dorinne back to her apartment," Glennon was saying, when the door to the cellar cubicle of the "Sun" morgue slowly opened. A man's figure was out-lined in the dim light.
"Migawd, gimme a drink quick," Benny Dowd shouted. "It's Bill Fogarty's ghost!"
Dorinne gave a fearful little yelp and tried to flatten herself against the wall. The others were momentarily taken aback by the appearance of the skinny, long-legged figure of Bill Fogarty. Mike Glennon, bolder than the rest, stepped forward and peering at him, roared, "Behold, our long lost demon reporter, Bill Fogarty. Where the hell have you been?"
"Lost in the woods," Fogarty muttered weakly. "Then I worked on a farm for awhile. I think I must have had amnesia!"
Ferdy Hughes chimed in eagerly, "Now that we've got Bui back, we can hit the front page with the whole story!"
Mike Glennon shouted angrily, "I'm surrounded by nincompoops, birdbrains and halfwits! Don't you jerks realize we've got no story now!"
He turned to Fogarty and said bitterly, "Better you should have stayed dead! With you alive, Jack Pierce is absolutely in the clear."
"What about that hump picture of his wife, boss?" Benny Dowd asked.
"The picture! Do you idiots know what would happen if we flashed that picture? Jack Pierce would close this newspaper in thirty days with a combination of million dollar libel suits, defamation of character suits, invasion of privacy suits-do I have to go any further?"
He turned to Fogarty and said, "You still have your job, only because I feel sorry for your wife and kids. You got what you deserved with this blackmail jazz."
Mike Glennon looked hard at the little group of reporters and Dorinne and concluded with, "We all had better forget and bury this whole thing right here in the morgue-where it belongs!"
Dorinne called Jack Pierce as soon as she reached her apartment. She informed the surprised executive that she had news of a most pressing and urgent nature for him. He agreed to be up there within an hour.
Jack Pierce drove downtown to Dorinne's plush apartment as quickly as he could. He was a very worried man; Dorinne knew a little too much about him. Was a second blackmail front opening against him?
Dorinne's brunette beauty as she opened the door for Jack was refreshing. She had showered and changed to a filmy, baby-pink negligee which revealed more than concealed every seductive curve of her tantalizing tits and ass.
Jack Pierce was impatient as Dorinne motioned him to the sofa and poured him a double of his favorite bourbon-on-the-rocks. She gave him the drink and ran her fingers through his hair.
"Don't be so nervous, Mr. Senior Vice-President," she said soothingly, "I've got good news for you."
"It'll be the first I've had in some time," Jack replied.
"Well, listen to what happened to me," Dorinne said and launched into a running recital of the recent happenings in the "Sun" morgue.
"So you see, Jack darling, you haven't got a thing to worry about. Except for one thing...." she concluded. "What's that?" Pierce asked.
"You owe me three hundred dollars! If you're a gentleman, you won't let those cheap reporters have a free fuck on me!"
Jack Pierce laughed with relief, "It'll be a pleasure to take care of their hump-tab. The good news you've given me is certainly worth it."
Pleased, Dorinne snuggled up to Jack on the sofa. Her lips closed over his and parted them with her hot, deeply probing tongue.
"Why don't you take off your jacket and stay awhile," she murmured, nuzzling her soft breasts against him. Jack did just that, and his shirt and tie followed in short order. Dorinne moved sensuously against his chest with her firm, pointy tits and Jack's eager lips began to mouth her hard, jutting nipples. She slipped out of her negligee and unzipped his trousers. His cock erecting quickly, he stripped completely and left his underwear in a little pile on the floor.
Dorinne began to kiss his chest with warm questing lips, and as she delicately worked down to his navel, he thrilled as her tongue flicked around, then, into it. Her head moved lower and suddenly his lusty stiff dick was bathed in a warm, all-enveloping moistness. He held her head for a moment, then reluctantly guided her back to his navel, murmuring, "Not that way, doll...."
Dorinne rolled slightly and quickly straddled Jack's stiff dong. Deftly, she enveloped his throbbing pecker within her warm, wet cunt. She swung the hillocks of her breasts across his chest, her nipples leaving little pleasure trails as she worked her hot cunt and buttocks in a tantalizing rhythm. Jack began to gasp as wave after wave of pleasure swept over his dick. His hands cupped her jiggling buttocks and urged her cunt to a faster pace to match his mounting passion. She responded with a wild, abandoned dance of her hips and vagina in the most sensuous hump-grind Jack had ever known.
"Dorinne, Dorinne," he moaned, as his back arched and stiffened up from the sofa as a series of tremendous jolts of pleasure raced through his sperm-spurting cock. She was triggered into spasms of ecstasy as she felt his hot scum in her vagina that forced a scream of joy from her. Dorinne was surprised. She had never screamed or even had an orgasm before with a customer.
"Thank you, Mr. Vice-President," she gasped as she rested her head on Jack's still quivering torso.
She was content with her hump-relationship with Jack Pierce. He was now one of the most influential men in Harrison City. She could see him developing into her number one John.
At this moment, Connie Satterlee was ringing the doorbell of the Pierce's suburban residence. She was carrying a gift package under her arm; a handsomely engraved silver platter noting the occasion of Jack Pierce's taking over the Harrison Home Products Division of I.E.C. Jean Pierce greeted Connie warmly and explained that Jack had gone downtown on business and wouldn't be home for a few hours.
"Just as well," Connie said as her eyes traveled over Jean's voluptuous breasts and thighs revealingly displayed through a half-opened bathrobe.
"You'll have to excuse me," Jean said, "I've just finished bathing and really wasn't expecting company."
"Let's go to your room. I'd like to show you this platter while you're dressing," smiled Connie.
In the feminine security of Jean's bedroom, Connie unwrapped the platter and propped it up on Jean's dresser. Then Connie stripped and putting her arms through Jean's housecoat, kissed her full on the lips. She gently urged the unprotesting Jean toward the bed, as the housecoat dropped to the floor.
Connie's tongue began to kiss Jean's aroused, rigid nipples, flicking them lightly. Her eager mouth seemed to try to swallow each of Jean's abundant tits in turn. Little tremors went through Jean's cunt with every movement of Connie's lips. As Connie went to her navel, Jean began to shudder and moaned with expectation as Connie's tongue slowly tantalized her rounded belly. Suddenly, Jean could stand Connie's slow torture no longer and her buttocks tensed, boldly she guided her to her wet cuntlips and erect clitoris. Jean ground her hips and thighs in sheer frenzy as her lush body was convulsed with pleasure spasms greater than any she had ever known. She moaned joyously as she came and her hands caressed Connie's head....
The silver platter, looking down on the lush, entwined Lesbian-loving bodies of the two women, read:
"In honor of Mr. Jack Pierce-Senior Vice-President-Harrison Home Products Division, Intercontinental Electronics Corp."
What it neglected to say was, "NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF A WOMAN." All was well, that ended well-in Harrison City.