Chapter 13
That night, in her apartment, Shelly sat alone, almost brooding, yet inwardly pleased that she had been able to discharge some of her own personal venom on Ira Williams. It served him right for ignoring the gift of her body, a body she had now covered only with a light, filmy negligee. It was her costume for drinking and thinking, and she took delight when the alcohol warmed her, in caressing and stroking the curves of her hips and lifting and fondling her breasts.
A low murmur of voices drifted to her from some other apartment. The sound made her lonely. She thought idly of taking a walk, but the idea died almost at once without stirring more than a remote emotion in her. She doubted if she could be good company for anyone. Her bottle would serve to ease her loneliness.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on her door. Shelly's eyes went wide with excitement; any kind of company was welcome. She stared at the door, puzzled as to who might be calling on her. It was most unusual for anyone to knock on her door. Even solicitors were not allowed in the building. The knock came again.
"Wh-who is it?" she called out.
There was no reply. The knock was repeated.
She got to her feet, looking at the door a moment, then started toward it. She was surprised that she staggered slightly. She called out, "Just a minute. I'm coming." She pulled her thin robe tighter around herself.
The rapping stopped now. Shelly grasped the knob and opened the door cautiously. Almost immediately she recognized the aroma of a familiar cigar. The rank fragrance of Ira Williams' long, black cigar filled the doorway as he stood smiling in the dim light.
"Mister Williams!" Shelly exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Ira only smiled, then moved slightly forward. Shelly moved back a step, half afraid and half puzzled as to why this little man was at her door.
"May I come in?" he asked pleasantly. "Y-yes, of course." She shrugged stiffly and moved aside.
When Ira was inside, Shelly closed the door. She was uneasy over his being there. She walked across the room and sank into her chair. She kept her eyes on the little man. There was a question in her eyes and Ira was quick to answer it.
"I just came up to let you know everything was all right," he said. His face showed first concern over her uneasiness, then faint amusement. "I'm sorry if I frightened you."
Shelly did not answer immediately but looked at Ira, studying both his face and his words. His smile broadened into a grin.
"Is a person's fright a laughing matter to you?" she snapped icily.
"Not at all," Ira said soberly, "but I was thinking about our ... our little disagreement at the restaurant and it just struck me as ridiculous that we should part that way."
"If you thought it was ridiculous, why did you talk to me the way you did? After all, you called me some pretty nasty things."
"I'm sorry," Ira said.
"But why did you?" Shelly persisted. She knew she was being unreasonable in pursuing this point, but she felt unreasonable anger, an anger that was as hot as it was humiliating.
Ira's face changed subtly, and he reached in his breast pocket for a fresh cigar. "Now calm down," he said, seeing the anger rise in her. "The whole affair is over, and I'm sorry that it happened in the first place. I'm sorry about our little disagreement, too."
"It was more than a little disagreement," Shelly said.
"All right, all right," he said, a little edge to his voice. For a moment they stared at each other, Shelly with a quiet malevolence. Slowly, he laid down his cigar and rose and came across to her. Facing her, he spread his legs and put his hands on his hips. To Shelly, he was a far cry from the type of man she liked. Yet, he was a man, and he was in her apartment. The thought had a calming effect on her.
"Would you like a drink?" she asked.
"Sure," he grinned.
As she stood by the table, mixing two drinks, she asked over her shoulder, "You're here for something, I presume. I mean other than to apologize, aren't you?"
"No, that's about it," he drawled.
"Nonsense," Shelly said as she handed him his drink.
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't come up here just to say you're sorry," she said evenly. "There must be another reason."
"Well, to tell you the truth...."
"That's what I want-the truth." She was hoping he would admit he had come to see her just for herself, but he disappointed her with his reply. "I thought the truth might be a refreshing change."
"Well, I was thinking over the argument we had after Wilma, the waitress, told me what you told her on your way out and I thought I'd better have a little talk with you to find out what you meant by it."
She smiled at him. "That worries you, doesn't it?"
"In a way ... yes. Especially when it isn't true. Frankly, I was a little put out, maybe even a little scared that you might start spreading it around in the wrong places, if you know what I mean."
"Of course you must mean if your wife found out you were trying to lay some of the help, huh?"
He nodded. "That's right," he said firmly.
She studied him. He looked back at her, then leaned back in his chair and cuddled his cigar.
"To tell you the truth, I hadn't given it a thought," she said.
"And that's a crock, too," he said quickly.
"No, I wouldn't do a thing like that," she said. She was concerned now that Ira was here merely to smooth over the rift that had occurred between them. Then, when he was certain of her behavior, he would leave-leave her to her terrible loneliness. She would have to avoid this at all costs, she told herself. No, he wasn't the sexiest thing in the world, but he was here and he was a man.
She moved closer to his chair and tried one of her better smiles on him. Hesitantly, he tried to form a smile, made it look more like a wince, then a sickly grin.
"How's your drink? Ready for another?" Shelly asked.
He grinned up at her and extended his empty glass. Then he got to his feet and stood before her, inches away. The nearness excited him and Shelly smiled inwardly as she heard his breath suck in.
The room was almost completely dark, the only light coming from a small lamp in the dining cove. Shelly had a sudden moment of panic, realizing that just a short time ago this man-this little, ridiculous looking man-had been in the mood to kill her. The panic seemed to be contagious, for Ira moved back a step, grinning nervously, and walked around the room.
"Nice little place," he said.
"It suits me," she said, "but it gets awfully lonesome sometimes."
"Lonesome? You, lonesome? That's hard to believe."
An impish smile played on her lips. Her mantrap was working. She could envision her prey entering its outer reaches. "Why, of course, I get lonesome," she purred. "I'm all alone so much that sometimes I don't know what to do."
Ira hesitated a moment, wondering if she was going to say more. When he saw she was looking to him for comment, he said, "I should think you'd have a lot of friends to spend your time with. Don't you have anyone special?"
"A man, you mean? No, no one special. It's been a long time...." her voice trailed away. She hoped the implication would find its mark. "How about you, Mr. Williams? Does your wife approve of you being in another woman's apartment?"
Ira's face flushed. "I know I shouldn't be here, but, well, I just had to get things straight between us."
"No, not really," she purred. She could see immediately that Ira Williams was the type who was deathly afraid of his wife and it pleased her to know this.
"You know, Shelly, there is one more thing I'd like to bring up as long as I'm here," he said. "Don't think I'm some kind of dummy who doesn't know what's going on. When you gave me those openings at the restaurant, I wanted to take you up on them but I was afraid. I've never fooled around at work."
She smiled. "Then you did want me?"
Ira's face flushed even more. He moved toward her and took her hands in his. "I'm not at work now," he choked. "I want you. I want you so bad I'm willing to hurt someone else to have you. You don't know how many times I wanted to call you into my office and ... and, well, you know."
"That would have been uncomfortable," she smiled. "You don't even have a couch in your office."
"It wouldn't have mattered," he gushed. "Nothing would have mattered if I could have had you." He slopped some of his drink into his mouth, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "God, you don't know how you can get to a guy!"
Shelly had an impulsive moment of affection for him, a moment she fought with. She wanted to kiss him then, hug him ... and let him make love to her. But a wild and untamable desire stirred within her, and she instinctively withdrew her emotions, deciding, instead, to toy with her victim just a little longer.
"You shouldn't feel that way, Mr. Williams," she said. "It isn't right for you to feel that way about any other woman."
"Yes ... yes, it is," he said quickly, looking steadily at her. "I'm human, Shelly, and I know what I'm saying. I want you."
"You're sure ... Ira?"
"You know I am," he said excitedly.
He put his arms around her and pulled her to him. Shelly melted willingly against him.
Although pleased that she was once again in the arms of a man, Shelly experienced a moment when she felt like laughing. Ira was a little shorter than she was. She snuggled against him but found it difficult because of his bulky little body.
"Shelly ... Shelly...." he panted. "I want you ... I want you so much ... tonight ... now...."
"Yes ... yes, Ira...."
He pushed her gently away, then took her arm and led her toward the bedroom. She did not resist, walking willingly beside him, her arm around his fat body.
The excitement rose in him as his hand caressed her body through the thin negligee. Once in the bedroom, he turned her toward him and pulled her tight against him by holding the cheeks of her ass. His little hard-on pressed into her.
"Oooohhh," she tittered, "you are ready, aren't you?"
"Baby...." he murmured. Then his hands dropped to her ass and he yanked her, almost viciously,, and ground his hips against her. As her arms snaked around his neck, her negligee fell open, exposing her breasts. He immediately dropped his face to one nipple and engulfed it with wet lips. The nipples stood erect and his tongue encircled them and Shelly gasped with delight.
"Ooooohhh, Ira ... ooohhh ... you're so wonderful...."
Roughly, he pawed at her shoulders to pull the robe from her, then pushed her back toward the bed. She fell on her back, legs apart, and he was between them in an instant, clutching at his clothes, tearing at them in his lustful frenzy.
"Oooohhh, baby, wait a minute," Shelly said. "Take it easy. Here, let me help you with those clothes." She pushed at his shoulders and rolled him off her.
"I-I'm sorry," he panted. He began to undress as quickly as he could while Shelly tried to help.
"My, you are a hot little number, aren't you?" she said, looking down at his cock.
"Don't call me little," he snapped.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way." She took hold of his stiff little prick and pumped her hand up and down on it for a few seconds.
Then they were back on the bed again, both naked. His hands moved over her, stroking the length of her legs, going from one tittie to the other, then down her belly to feel the soft skin there. He made his fingers dance over the tender skin of her inner thighs, kissing her delicately now that he knew she was his, arousing her to an incredible degree of passion. She whimpered as his lips, hot and demanding, slid down her body. He flattened his tongue and made a wet streak from her tits to her belly button, then went lower and licked across the hair of her cunt.
She quivered as his large, wet tongue moistened her crotch. "Oooohhh, Ira ... Ira ... please do that some more...." She slid her body down on the bed in a gesture of complete surrender. He crawled up on her again, found her face, then brought his fat, wet lips to hers. The odor of her own pussy was on them and she licked them hungrily, thrilling to the taste as well as the aroma. They pushed their mouths together savagely, grinding their lips in feverish compulsion. And beyond the limits of his raging awareness-it seemed he felt her breasts working purposefully against him, rolling and pushing-he felt her fingers kneading the flesh of his back.
He was grunting and moaning and snorting unintelligibly, slavoring over her, licking, kissing and snatching at her titties with his pudgy hands. His hips were moving up and down and his slightly-wetted cock was jabbing into the hair of her cunt with anxious, urgent nudges.
"I WANT YOU TO KISS ME SOME MORE ... , DOWN THERE," she panted.
"Yes, yes ... I will," he murmured between quick suckings on her nipples. "Such a body ... such a beautiful body...." He moved lower on her belly and his fat body pressed her into the mattress. He was ecstatic. Shelly was the kind of woman a man would be more than happy tohave in bed. A doll, a clawing, passionate, living doll, and he had her all to himself. He could kiss and lick her all he wanted, something he had wanted to do each time he saw her in his restaurant.
She threw her legs out wide and took his arms and pushed them under her legs so that his hands could cup the cheeks of her ass. Then, when he was in position, she hung her legs over his rounded shoulders and pushed his head into her quivering nest. The sweet-smelling hole was like a tonic to him, enlivening him even more, and he pressed his face into it and smeared it up and down so that her pussy juices were left on his forehead, his cheeks and his nose. He seemed beside himself as he washed her open pussy across his face, sometimes pressing his nose into the tender membranes and licking furiously at the crevice below.
"Oooohhh, dearrrrr ... Oh, my God-dddd!" she quavered.
"Umhmmmm ... umhmmmm," he snorted in reply.
He pried her legs even farther upward so that the small brown hole between her ass-cheeks lay exposed before him. He did not hesitate. He lashed at it with his flat tongue, then poked at it with the tip. He smeared his saliva across it and ran his tongue up and down the entire ravine that led from her cunt to her asshole.
Suddenly, the sexual frenzy she had tried halfway to hold in check, rampaged, and Shelly knew it was time for her to take his cock into her. She tugged at his shoulders, trying to pull him atop her. Her body came alive beneath his licking, surging, quivering, blatantly crowding at his. Her hands swept over his pudgy body, squeezing his arms, and rocked her hips against his face.
Ira was on his knees, head lowered into her crotch, eating and lapping at it like a starved animal. Moans of delight escaped him as he feasted on her body. But even as much as he was enjoying himself, he felt his own need rise. Suddenly, he moved over her, cock in hand, and stabbed at the pucker of her anus. His prick was small and pointed; it slipped into her asshole without difficulty.
"OH, IRA ... DARLING ... NO!" she panted. "NOT IN THERE."
"Just a little ... please," he grunted. He moved forward into the spit-covered hole, and sunk the entire shaft of his cock into it.
Although Shelly wanted to complain, wanted his prick in her pussy, she could not help but respond to this wild, sexy little man. His cock felt good in her. There was no pain, no uncomfortable feeling. She felt it sliding easily in and out. Deftly, her body enveloped his, and they began the wild, impassioned motions of love. She closed herself on him ferociously, trying to respond to his lunges in and out of her. She gripped , her legs and held them down so that he would have better access to her asshole.
"MORE ... MORE...." she panted. "ALL OF IT ... ALL OF IT ... MORE...."
He slammed against her, his flesh slapping against her body as his bulk jiggled and jounced from his efforts. He was grunting with every stroke. He stopped for a moment and lowered his face to hers. His tongue washed across her lips, and she licked hungrily across his face to taste her own cunt juice. She took hold of his ears and held his face still so she could swipe her tongue across it.
Ira headed for his orgasm with a whimper that sounded almost as though he were in pain. He tore his face out of her hands and pushed himself up on stiff arms.
"I'M ... I'M GOING TO...." he clenched.
Suddenly, her body shot upward in a stabbing surge, and Ira felt the pain of her nails rake his back.
"BA-A-A-ABY!" she screamed. "YES! YES! NOW!"
"SHEL ... SHEL-LEEE," he whined. "FUCK, BABY ... FUCK!"
"YES, YES, YES!"
"FUCK ME IN THE ASSHOLE!"
"RIGHT IN YOUR ASSHOLE!"
"SHOOT IT IN ME!"
"YES! NOW!" he groaned as the first spasm captured his rocking body.
The hot lava from his cock spurted into her rectal cavity and she screamed with delight as it scalded her interior. He rammed forward with each spurt, sending a new stream each time. There was a slight bubbling sound as the hot juice filled her channel and sought escape around his cock-base.
Once more the nails ripped his back. She sank her teeth into his shoulder.
At that moment, Ira Williams was to discover the essential meaning of sex. In that moment of pleasurable agony, he was indoctrinated into the fiery, passionate life in bed with a true woman-a wild, untamed widow.
For a long time afterwards, they lay motionless, saying nothing. Two anonymous bits of spent, perspiring, panting hulks of flesh, trembling involuntarily from their frantic exertions.
Shelly had never realized how much pleasure there could be in getting fucked in the ass. She was surprised she had been able to achieve a climax. But then she realized that her body was one complete sex machine and would respond to sex in any form.
Blindly groping through a dazzling snowstorm of glittering, golden snowflakes, Shelly fought to retain the delicious moments of her latest conquest. Then suddenly, the golden flakes were gone. And she was paralyzed by the darkness-and the stillness. From somewhere deep inside her, she heard the alien voice of loneliness calling out to her, eagerly beckoning her to its bosom.
Ira Williams was gone. She was alone once again.
She felt the bed shake and discovered to her dismay, that it was from her own sobbing. Then, after long hours of agony, she slept.