Chapter 8

Terry sat there quietly smoking until the hot looking redhead came back.

"You got change comin'," Dolly Schubert said.

"Forget it," Terry said. He took the sandwich from Dolly, unwrapped the waxed paper, bit into the sandwich. It was pastrami.

"You want a highball?"

Terry nodded his head. "How's the weather?"

"Fog," Dolly said. "All along the eastern coast." She made two highballs. She sat down on the sofa beside him. "I don't know how Nocky is gonna get you out. He'll have to wait till the fog lifts."

Terry sipped his highball. "Is Nocky a pilot?"

"You guessed it."

"Say, this Den of Iniquity isn't in China is it?"

"Not in China, honey." She put a hand on his thigh. Terry finished the sandwich, finished the highball. She patted his thigh, stood up. "Do you want to see your room?" she asked. "I may as well."

He followed her up the flight of stairs.

It was a small room, with an iron bed, a chest of drawers and a chair.

Terry sat on the bed, tested the mattress. He stretched out. Dolly sat on the bed, took his shoes off. "Are you tired?" she asked him.

"I am."

"You're not too tired, are you?" Her voice was suggestive.

"No, not too tired."

She slipped off his jacket. She unbuttoned his shirt, took it off. She unzipped his pants, drew them down. Her hands crept under his T shirt, stroked his chest gently. Then she caressed his lean belly, slipped a hand under the band of his shorts. Her fingers began toying with his lob.

Terry groaned.

She quickly got rid of her dress, slipped into bed with him. All she had on was a pair of black panties. She took his head and buried his face between her ample breasts.

Terry's tongue started a journey up and down the valley of her breasts. Then he started to tongue her left nipple. The nipple hardened. He felt her fingers playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck. He captured her right nipple, hardened it with his tongue.

He got on his knees and ran his tongue down to her soft belly.

Her body writhed like a snake's under a hot sun. He kissed the soft flesh of her inner thighs.

"Pull down my panties," she told him. He did as she asked.

"I get the feeling, Terry," she gasped, "That you want to eat me. I like to be eaten Terry and I like to eat too. So swing your rear end around up here. You go to work on me down there and I'll work on you up here."

Naked bodies. Sweat stained bed. Darkened room. Moonlight, streaming through the window, painting the iron bed, the stark bodies, part of the tiny room.

Dolly Schubert ran her hands over Terry Scott's malehood. "I just want to memorize you," she explained. "I wish you could stay here forever." She sighed. "But I know better."

"I wish you could stay here forever." She sighed. "But I know better."

"I wish I knew where I was going," he mused.

"Oh,. I'll tell you, honey. You don' have to play games. Colorado. Near a town called Fleetwood."

"Thanks."

"If you ever get the chance to stop over here," she said, "I want you to drop in on me."

"Sure, I will."

"You'd better go to sleep now, honey. Nocky will probably be here early to take you with him." She got out of bed. She kissed his mouth. "You'll be more comfortable sleeping alone." She left the bedroom.

Terry smoked a cigarette, finished it, put out the butt, and went to sleep.

It was five in the morning when Nocky Doyle woke Terry. "Come on, get up. We're taking off in half an hour."

"Did the fog lift?"

"Partly. You're not afraid of a little fog, are you?"

"Yeah."

"Get dressed. I've got the clearance papers."

"Where are we taking off from?"

"A private airport near here."

"And you had to get clearance papers?"

"Sure. The whole coast is covered by radar. It's safer this way."

Terry got out of bed. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Nope. You can't even shave."

"Well, can I put on my clothes?"

"That you can do."

Terry dressed. "How good a pilot are you?"

"I was a pilot of a B-29 during the war."

"Whose side?" Nocky Doyle laughed.

They left the boarding house and got into the car. "Did Dolly treat you right?" Doyle asked, grinning. "Yaeh."

"She's okay," Doyle said, kicking the motor over. "Hot stuff."

"Yeah."

"I dig her kind of woman. There's no silly crap with her. If she's gonna put out for a guy, she puts out all the way. Head, straight or dog. She digs all positions. I'd better change the subject or I won't be able to fly that plane."

Terry laughed.