Chapter 5

When I drove by the drugstore I saw Vic's car parked outside. I knew it belonged to Vic, since there weren't any other high-class imported cars in the neighborhood. Was Vic in there, dodging the summer heat, or was he boasting to his friends about his conquests? Or was he actually planning to marry Lissa and telling his pals about it? I gritted my teeth. Threats would do no good, I knew, but the urge to hear Vic declare his intentions was overpowering, so I swerved the compact and pulled alongside the boy's auto. Then I saw him coming out with his two pals. When they saw me, Vic gave them the scat sign and they ducked into the store.

"Hi, Dad," he called out, sauntering toward me.

"Hello, Victor."

I didn't get out of my car. I felt my stomach knotting. Here I was, about to raise hell with Vic for screwing Lissa, when I was screwing other females because Nell and I were on the outs. I knew damned well I was a hypocrite, but somehow that wasn't going to stop me.

Vic pushed the heavy black hair from his forehead and rested his arms on the compact door. He was grinning.

"You notice I called you Dad."

"I did."

"Well, Dad, I'm not just goofing off, considering how things are stacking up. I'll be calling you Dad for real one of these days."

I sighed. "Then you really intend that Lissa and you—"

"Sure, man." Vic nodded. "Little old Vic's not swinging. Lissa's the only one for him."

"I wish I could believe that."

"You can, Pop, you're hip." Vic snapped his fingers then slapped the side of the compact.

"Say, Dad, you want to hook this heap to the rear of the Miles Special and let me tow you home?"

I had to grin. "No, thanks, Vic. I'll make it."

"See you, Dad," Vic said, saluting. "Don't let anybody warp you."

He turned and went back into Sylvandale Drug.

Was he stringing me and Lissa along? Was he lying as he usually did?

When I entered our living room I saw Lissa bent over the tape recorder, checking her mistakes and seeking to improve her singing voice. Nell was sitting across the room under a cluster of lights. Was I still in the doghouse? I tiptoed into the hall, softly closing the door. Neither Lissa nor Nell greeted me. They must have been comparing notes, I thought. I stopped behind Lissa and feasted my ears on the dulcet tones coming from the machine.

"Flat!" Lissa exclaimed, snapping the stop button.

"Sounded wonderful to me, honey, but of course I don't know the fine points."

She turned to face me, her green eyes cold.

"Dad," she said sharply, "we've got a flock of sopranos at the university, and every one of their fathers thinks his daughter is tops."

"Fathers are poor judges," Nell said, looking away from me.

Gently, I touched Lissa's shoulder.

"Please, Dad!" She wriggled away. "This bugs me. If I don't shake these flat notes, Miss Casselli will kill me."

"Sorry, Lissa. They sound good to me."

She frowned. "Oh, Dad! Let's don't be square."

Turning away, I started up the stairs to the south bedroom. Square? Well, not exactly, but I supposed the kids all figured a man past thirty-five was an antique. But antique or no, I still enjoyed my nooky, and damned if I wasn't going to get it. I'd call up Floyd Dryver. He didn't talk much but he got around. He always had some choice pussy on tap. I guess that's why he never married. He was getting all the fun and no family grief.

I heard a footfall on the stairs. Nell's face appeared. My door was open, but she refused to glance in my direction. She went into the bathroom and locked the door. I heard the tape recorder going again downstairs. Lissa was running the scales, her tones reaching the highest pitch. She struck a note that was little more than a whistle.

"That one must have been high H," I muttered to myself.

The bathroom door swung open and Nell came out. Slowly, she walked toward me, looking at me bleakly. Her even teeth showed white between her spread lips. Her robe, hanging loosely, gave me a glimpse of her alluring figure. My mouth went dry and I swallowed.

"After all these years," I murmured, breathing faster.

"What's that, Wade?"

"Nothing."

She stared at me. "Is that why you look so glum?"

"For the same reason you are."

She sat down in a straight-backed chair near the door and met my eyes. "You and Lissa, Wade. It mustn't go on."

"Meaning what?"

"Your needling each other, of course."

"I didn't realize I was. I try to be nice to her in spite of what Vic and she are up to."

Nell's eyes darkened. "She's getting more like you every day, Wade."

I got mad at the dig. "What am I supposed to do, have my balls cut off?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

I got up and gazed at the green-painted wall. "Well, dear, I'm going to keep my sexual equipment and I'm going to use it. If you're determined to hold me off, I'll have to go pussy hunting, and I know damned well I'll bag some!"

"Don't make me laugh! If you tried to screw anybody but me your prick would be so limber the poor gal would have to fold it to get it in."

I didn't answer this wisecrack, but I thought plenty. If Nell only knew the score she'd probably have a hemorrhage and it wouldn't be red.

The next evening I stopped before the door of Lissa's bedroom. I rapped gently. "Come in, Dad."

"How'd you know it was me, honey?" "Easy. Mamma never knocks." I went up behind her, and bending over, kissed her cheek.

She flinched. "Careful, Dad. You'll muss my hair."

I sighed. Couldn't I even touch her, my own daughter? I gazed in astonishment at the array of bottles and cans spread out before her between the twin lamps at her elbow. lipstick, mascara, eyebrow pencils, hair spray, perfumes, several different kinds of cold cream, the works.

"You really use all this stuff, Lissa?"

Her green eyes flashed. "Of course, Dad. Some girls use twice as much."

I whistled. "How can you make it all hang on?"

"Dad, I told you." Her teeth showed. "Don't square it Dig me? Stop muddling around in the past."

"Hey," Nell called from the doorway.

Lissa snapped down the hair dryer and faced her mother. I backed away from the dresser.

Frowning, Nell walked toward us. "Do I smell smoke in here, or is it brimstone?"

An awkward silence hung over us.

Nell face Lissa and me. "I'm not going to have this," she said angrily.

"Have what, Nell?"

"You know very well."

Lissa stared at her. "Mother, whatever are you talking about?"

"You two!" Nell glared at us. "You're father and daughter, remember? You're supposed to love each other."

Lissa faked a smile. "Of course, Mother. We couldn't help that if we tried."

Nell came between us. "Look in that mirror at your faces. What I see there certainly isn't love."

I shrugged and lifted my hands. Then I turned away and trudged downstairs. I could hear Lissa sobbing and Nell trying to comfort her. Yes, I'd done the wrong thing again. Only in my late thirties and already considered an antique. Every time I tried to talk to my daughter things got fouled and we'd wind up in a tiff.

I walked out the back door into the night. The moon was full and white but her face seemed to be frowning. She'd been violated by astronauts. Big red Mars in the southern sky appeared redder than usual, apparently leaning toward a declaration of war. A dog, far across town, was howling mournfully. A gust of wind struck the hickory tree beside me, and a bird's nest came tumbling down. I could see the broken egg shells. Another home destroyed.

I felt, rather than saw, someone behind me. I turned quickly. "Wade?" "Yes, Nell?"

She touched my arm. "You've got to stop it." "Stop what?"

"You've got to let up on Lissa." "Can't I even talk to her?" I said, sourly. "Of course, but don't treat her like a child." I sighed. "Why not? She's hardly more than that."

"Oh, yes she is. You've got to treat her like an adult."

I shrank away from Nell. "It was only yesterday that I carried her to her little bed and—"

"Don't live in yesterday. Today is today, modern and alert. Lissa will do all right. Just because she's swinging a little doesn't mean that—"

"Oh, yes, it does. Vic Miles will drag her down into the gutter, and she'll end up by being a tramp, and-"

"No, she won't! You think she'll be as wild as you were in your palmy days, but she's got more sense."

A painful silence fell between us. The wind came in a gust again and a dead limb fell from the tree. I picked up the branch and threw it aside, then faced my wife.

"But you and me?" I touched her hand. "No need for us to treat each other like strangers. Do you mind tonight if I—"

"I'm not in the mood, Wade," she said bitterly. "Just forget about sex till we both feel better."

Forget about sex? Fat chance, with my old monster sticking out eight inches, and nowhere to put it! Nell was sleeping downstairs on the couch and I was fighting the blues in our bed upstairs. I thought about running off a batch by hand, but that would be lonesome. I'd just have to call Floyd Dryver. As I said, he always kept some hot numbers listed in his little black book. Several times he'd asked me if I wanted a temporary change in my grazing grounds, but I'd told him no, not as long as Nell and I were enjoying our fucking. But now? She'd shut me out and my balls were aching for release. I didn't want to build up an old rusty load and dump it in some unsuspecting gal's pussy.

"Sure, Wade," Floyd said, that evening, when I called him from a corner pay phone. "Let's see. It's ten after six. Sure, I can line up a couple of cuties for about nine tonight. That be okay?"

"Right!" I said, feeling my whacker jump to attention. "Just say where."

He hesitated for a moment. "Make it the Aloha Motor Lodge, you know, the one about ten miles north on Interstate Thirty? They've got big, soft mattresses. I know."

"You dog," I told him. "Okay, Floyd, I'll be there about nine."

And I was. And did I find out a couple of things about Floyd I'd never dreamed of! You can't ever tell about these bachelors. Without thinking, I'd called him a dog, but that handle fitted him to a T. He was a regular at the Aloha. He did pretty much as he pleased, with no beefs raised. I found him lounging in his car outside, waiting for me under a big neon light.

"Gals inside Cabin Eight," he told me. "Figured I'd better meet you here, so you'd know where to go."

"What's their names, son?" "Martha and Edna, a couple of lookers who haven't been fucking much lately." "Which one do I get?"

"Which one?" He stared at me. "You'll screw 'em both, if that jackass cock of yours don't go limber. But it probably won't since you said you and Nell aren't-"

"But I just got one whacker, Floyd."

"Wake up, Wade," he scoffed, poking me with his index finger. "It's no fun just banging one. You got to have two or three in one session. Don't be a sap. You don't know what you're missing. You fuck one gal, she's got a certain way of doing it. Then you hop over on the other one. She's different, and she's raring to go from watching you, and she fucks you like a mink." Floyd smiled and licked his lips. "Get it, man? You got to try it tonight."

"Okay, Floyd," I told him. "It's a deal, but first I'd like to watch your cock wilt after you screw the first one." I looked at him and grinned. "I'm pretty damn sure you're older than thirty-nine and I'm betting your old monster will go limber as the neck of a dead duck after—"

Floyd laughed. "You mean I'll lose my hard after one big screw? Get this, Wade: never let a few years fool you. I can, and have, laid three cunts in a row without my pecker wilting, and it doesn't take me all night to shoot my cream, either."

"I'm dying to watch that," I said, shrugging. "I think you're one big liar."

"Yeah? Like to see me do it?" He tugged at my arm. "Follow the old master, boy, and get wised up."

So we hurried into Cabin Eight in the east row and found the girls waiting impatiently.

"What you guys been up to?" one of them grumbled. "Holding a board meeting?"

"Shop talk, Martha," Floyd said, "about our favorite subject. Pussy."

He made the introductions, and we started to get comfortable. This Martha was a swell dish, no fooling. Floyd didn't mention any surnames and I guess it was just as well. We weren't eager for names, just craving for a good screw.

Martha was a brunette, with a milk-white skin. She looked sexy and desirable. Her dark eyes were sizing me up, and she was making it easy for me to peek at her titties if I wanted to. And, naturally, I wanted to. I've never seen a pair of boobs I hated to look at. She ran a little to the plump side, but Floyd said he liked them that way. He didn't crave to be bruised by riding a skinny pelvis. And I remember, when I was a horny kid, some old buzzard told me fat gals made funny fucking.

Edna was just the opposite of Martha. She was a rather small female, with little hard mounds of boobs that looked like they'd enjoy being pinched. So I tried it. She clucked her tongue and shook her head, but her deep blue eyes were sparkling. Mousey type, eh? I was betting she'd scream like a cat with its tail under a rocker when she got her jollies.

There was a bottle of rye on the table, and Floyd got the girls started guzzling it. I guess the gals had already been at it, but they weren't polluted so far. Old Al K. Hall had just given them a couple of boosts. The light in the room was ruby-red, and strong enough for me to get the message.

We got into our birthday suits in a hurry. The gals started taking turns, playfully flicking Floyd's big cock, while he was fingering Martha's fat boobs with one hand and tickling Edna's neat titties with the other.

"All right, you fucker," Floyd told me, "come on, get into the play."

"First," I said, "I want to see what your old monster looks like after Martha and Edna get through with it."

"Get him, kids," Floyd retorted, pointing to me.

They made a dash, and before I realized it, they had me on the bed, spidering me from ass to Adam's apple. My pecker jerked up like a stiff-necked snake. Martha drew back and stared at it.

"Edna," she cried, "look at this beautiful thing! I get first crack at it."

"I'll match you," Edna bantered. "You can fuck Floyd while I take care of Wade."

"No, you don't," Floyd growled, standing over us. "Wade won't believe I can screw you both without stopping. He wants to watch me do it. So lay off him for a few minutes."

"I've changed my mind," I told him.

"Okay, okay; you can have your pick after I've proved my point. Here, gals, get your asses ready. I want to show this boy a thing or two."

Obediently, they turned over on their backs and I stood up. Floyd flopped on his back between them. Using both hands, he started to play with the gals' pussies. I watched his big cock start to pulse and rear its head. The damn thing was sizing up the situation, I noticed, and it wasn't discouraged. Brother, any woman should be satisfied after having that big tool pushed deeply into her box! Either that, or she'd be fretting about having her insides rearranged.

In a few moments Edna and Martha had their eyes closed and were writhing with passion. Myself, I was in a bad way. My whacker was about to go into convulsions, and my balls were twitching and pulling up. Then Floyd grunted and rolled over onto Martha, lying on the far side of the bed. He didn't bite her boobs or kiss her; he just started inching that big tool into her pussy. She moaned at first, then yelped and pounded the bed when he made the final thrust. Edna was squirming and twisting from side to side and rubbing her clit. I knew it was hell for her to have to watch and wait. It was no picnic for me, either. Since Floyd was going to fuck them both, I felt I might have to run off a batch by hand.

Edna opened her eyes and looked at me. And that look! I saw that Floyd had his nose buried between Martha's big boobs. Why not, son? Edna's dying for it. So I winked at her and she winked back. She raised her dimpled knees and spread her alluring thighs. Quickly, I crept between them. She moaned, kissed me long and passionately, and started squirming.

"Hey, you fucker, what gives?" Floyd exclaimed, raising his head. "What you up to, Wade?"

"Just helping you out a little," I told him. "I'm getting her ready for that jackass tool of yours."

"Okay, okay," he growled. "I'll just shoot my wad twice with Martha, then screw Edna just to show you I can do it!"

Edna pushed her titties up for me to kiss. I did, then spidered them as I mouthed her lips. But she pulled up and jerked my head back to her titties. "Kiss 'em, Wade, kiss 'em hard! It really sends me!"

Maybe I was a bit rough, spanking her nipples with my tongue and drawing on them with my lips. I heard Floyd grunt and moan, and Martha crying out like a lost soul in purgatory. I knew they'd come, but Floyd wouldn't bother me. He'd promised to fuck Martha without stopping.

I pulled hard on Edna's neat breasts, then started to nibble on them. She was panting and gasping, really getting a bang out of it. Hell's fire! Surely her lust wasn't all in her boobs! But when she began pulling me closer and thrusting her pelvis hard against me, I knew she was okay. She'd just been working up to a dilly of a fuck.

Reaching down, she felt for my cock, but somehow missed it. I couldn't understand why, since it was poking out to its full eight inches. But I helped her, placing her soft fingers on the head. She grasped it firmly, then cupped her hand under my balls and jerked them up.

"Careful, baby," I cautioned. "You're messing with a gusher. Let's don't waste it in thin air. I want my old monster tight inside your grasping pussy."

She didn't answer, just moaned and closed her eyes, but kept her fingers around the head of my whacker. I was starting to hunch like a horny tomcat in spite of my efforts to stay put. She put her fingers all the way around my prick and guided it up against her pussy. I still held back a little. I didn't think she'd been screwed too many times, so I hated to jam eight inches of stiff cock all the way in one, hard thrust. But she started moaning and writhing, lifting her pelvis, up, up, up.

Wade, I told myself, this baby's aching and begging for it. Give it to her, all of it.

So I did in one king-sized thrust. She yelped and shuddered, but not for long. Then she started bucking, and I knew her pain had changed to pleasure. I glanced over at Floyd. The two-timer was lying on top of Martha, grinning at me. I knew he was putting his cock to soak, giving Martha a chance to get her breath.

I looked down at Edna's flawless breasts. But they weren't flawless now. I'd left teeth marks on them. She'd probably raise hell with me later, but she'd begged for it, and she still wasn't satisfied! She pulled my head down between her boobs again, jerking her shoulders to rub my lips against them. So I chewed her nipples, hard this time and tasted blood. She cried out and thrust her pelvis against me convulsively.

I glanced at Floyd. The old fart was humping again. Martha's eyes were closed, her face white, set. They were on their second descent.

I grabbed Edna's hips and spread her knees with my elbows. She was meeting my every thrust, gasping and panting. I gave her the full treatment, chewing her nipples and pumping hard and deep. Suddenly, she started laughing hysterically. What the hell? Was she a sex maniac, or something? Was she going around the bend?

I glanced at Floyd again. He winked and nodded, then muttered, "Cool it, Wade. She does that when she gets her cookies."

So I stayed with her until I felt myself come and my cream spurting spasmodically into her thrilling pussy. When Edna felt it, she stopped laughing, moaned, shuddered and strained me to her, almost bucking me off.

"Jesus, man!" she gasped, "you're marvelous! Where did you get that wonderful jock? Honey, we got to do this every day and twice on Sunday. I don't know you, big man, but I. . . love you."

I looked at Floyd again. He was up on his knees, his big jock still standing out, long and hard as ever. He was grinning at me.

"Get off her, Wade," he ordered. "I'll take her and show you I can go three fast times in a row, just like I said."

"No, Floyd, no!" Edna begged. "I want Wade again! Please, Floyd!"

"Oh, all right," he grumbled. "I'll pop Martha again. I got to prove my point to Wade."

So he did, and after he climaxed, his huge pecker was still stiff. He looked at me and grinned.

"Now you believe me, Wade?"

"Sure, I believe you, but I know what you do. You gulp a big Spanish Fly every evening!"

He guffawed and refused to answer. Or if he did, I didn't hear him. Edna and I were too busy spidering and playing with each other.