Chapter 7
Jodie's step was light and jaunty as she turned in at the door of the glass and chrome laundromat. A few bored and uninteresting people sat and watched their clothes spin around endlessly in the dryers.
Ignoring them, she made her way over to one of the plastic-topped sorting tables and undid the knot holding her bundle together.
A middle-aged man brushed past her on his way to the coffee machine. He glanced at Jodie's trim figure surreptitiously as he fumbled in his pocket for change.
Once again Jodie had unwittingly taken a position by the window, allowing the strong California sunlight to strike through the flimsy covering of her sweater as if it were made of cellophane.
The man gulped as he saw the outline of Jodie's thrusting tits straining against the thinness of the covering fabric. The man wet his lips and, keeping his eyes riveted on the clearly revealed cherries of her pink nipples, strode purposefully over to her. He stopped at her side, and she felt the brush of his trousers against her legs.
"Hi there," the stranger greeted her. "Sorry to disturb you, but I wonder if you can change a quarter for the coffee machine?"
Jodie looked at him doubtfully. Every coffee machine that she had ever used accepted dimes, nickels and quarters.
She looked carefully into his face. He seemed an alright sort of guy. Perhaps the machines were different in laundromats, she told herself.
His steely gray eyes seemed to beam benevolently at her. There was an honesty and wholesomeness about the clean cut of his face that made Jodie feel embarrassed of her previous doubts about him. By her hesitation, she was only showing her immaturity and ignorance. Adult people met and talked to each other all the time. She was no little girl who should be wary of taking candy from strange men.
She smiled back at the man warmly. "Why, surely," she beamed back. She rummaged in her purse for a moment before handing him a dime and a nickel.
"I'm afraid that I can't split your quarter, but here's fifteen cents. Be my guest."
The man seemed genuinely taken aback by her generosity. "That's very kind of you, but I'm afraid that I couldn't dream of taking all of your small change. I'll go out to one of the shops. They are bound to have change there." He added as an afterthought, "Perhaps you would allow me to get one for you. Do you take cream and sugar?"
Though the man's tone was affable, Jody felt that she had mishandled the situation and hurt him somehow. She tried to be extra nice to him as she accepted.
"That's very kind of you. I'd love one. Lots of cream and lots of sugar, please."
The man ran his glance over her figure unashamedly.
"With a beautiful young body like yours, you don't have to bother about dieting. I can see that only too plainly."
Jodie subconsciously drew herself up to her full height and pushed her bosom forward. The man noted her reaction with approval. She looked like a chick you could suggest things to. All kinds of things.
"Don't you go away, now," he told her. "I'll be right back with two coffees. There was a smirk on his face as he turned away from her. He'd be giving her more than cups of coffee shortly, or his name wasn't Alec Smart.
Jodie was still standing at the bench sorting out her wash when he returned. She flashed him a quick smile as he pumped the money into the coffee machine.
Placing one cup beside her, he resumed his interrupted conversation. "You're new around here, aren't you?" he questioned her. "I don't remember seeing you in here before."
Jodie adopted what she hoped was a mature, matter-of-fact tone as she answered. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I'm staying with my... er... uncle for a little while."
The man looked down at the washing she had spread before her. The cum-matted blood-stained sheets stared back at him.
"Your, er, uncle, you say."
"Yes," Jodie assured him. "My father's brother."
She followed the direction of his eyes and hurriedly pushed the sheet out of sight. Despite all of her newfound poise and maturity, she could feel the hot blush flooding her cheeks.
The man seemed to take it in his stride as his eyes met hers. "I wish that I had an obliging niece like you. What a happy family yours must be."
He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one slowly. His eyes bored into her from behind a cloud of smoke.
"What's his secret, this uncle of yours? What does he do for a living?"
Jodie hesitated for a moment. "Would you believe that I really don't know? He's a sort of student, I think."
The man inhaled deeply on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out into Jodie's upturned face.
"Is he short of bread? Need a little cash now and then?"
Remembering that Dick didn't even seem to have a change of sheets, Jodie answered truthfully.
"Yes, I suppose that he is a little strapped. Why?"
The man shrugged indifferently, then drew a card out of his pocket. "I might be able to put a little something in both your ways. A little cash for a little pleasant work."
Jodie took the proffered card and read the inscription.
Alec Smart-Producer-Eros Films Inc.-Hollywood Way-Hollywood.
Her face underwent a transformation. "You mean to say that you are a film producer? Oh, how lovely. It must be an interesting job."
All the stories that she had ever heard about young girls being discovered through chance meetings like this flooded through her dazzled mind.
"What sort of films do you make?" she inquired breathlessly.
Alec took his time in answering. It was almost as if he were searching for the right words.
"Most kinds. Whatever's right at the moment. Mostly skin flicks now, for the art houses."
He eyed her speculatively. "Might find something for you. But flesh we've got. What we want now are writers. Used to have a good one. Kid from U.C.L.A. Graduated though and has gone into advertising. Great loss to the industry. Fine writer."
An idea dawned upon Jodie. "My uncle is a writer. Poetry mostly, but I'd love you to meet him. Maybe he could help you?"
Her brain raced ahead of her. Images of her and Dick with the jet set at Acapulco attending premieres at Cannes, Oscar nominations and awards, money... She unconsciously rubbed herself against Alec in an attempt to influence him.
"There's good money in writing film scripts isn't there? How much do you pay?"
Alec's eyes veiled over evasively. "You his agent or something?"
He recovered his normal suavity quickly. Any mention of money was like a suggestion of having a tooth pulled to Alec. But there might be something to be got from this chick and her sperm-spilling uncle. If uncle he was. He'd play it by ear and see what the percentage was.
His manner was as benevolent as that of a car salesman as he continued. "Why don't we all get together and have a conference? Run it up the flagpole and see how it flutters?"
Jodie rubbed one foot across the other excitedly. "Oh, could we? When? Where? At your office?"
Alec froze for a second. "Well... er... I've got the decorators in at the moment. Got to keep the image up for the backers, you know."
Jodie looked at him, impressed. This was one of the things she loved about Hollywood. You met all kinds of important as well as way-out people here. Determined that he would not lose contact with them, she made a hesitant suggestion.
"Perhaps you'd like to come around for a drink and talk things over with my uncle, Mr. Hamilton. We'd love to have you."
Alec put up a show of running his mind over his crowded engagement schedule. He hesitated for the count of fifteen before he replied. His voice was authoritative, as if he had come to a big decision.
"Okay. Why the hell not? It's a long time since I took time off to meet nice young people. How about now?"
Jodie couldn't believe her luck, imagining as she did that all sorts of important clients, Richard Burton, Peter O'Toole, and people like that had been dropped in her favor.
Then she remembered the mess that the house was in. Christ, she couldn't let an influential producer see that they lived like pigs. Perhaps Cynthia would help her set the stage for this momentous meeting.
Her voice was apologetic as she answered him. "Not right now. I'm afraid that's impossible."
She cast around for an excuse, then remembered one of her father's. "Business, you know. Conferences and things. Tonight, though," she added eagerly. "Yes, tonight. We only live around the corner. Come any time. Here, I'll give you the address."
She rummaged through her purse and found an old envelope and the stub of a pencil. Alec took the proffered directions, then with a last, lingering look at Jodie's trim figure excused himself.
"Well, I think my things are dry now. Housekeeper's day off, you know. Goes back home to her place in Pasadena for the weekend."
He collected his things out of the drier and bundled them up. Drawing his rather paunchy stomach in with an effort, he smiled at her again and walked out of the door.
Once outside, he let himself sag thankfully. Checking to see whether he was still visible from the window of the laundromat, he slid behind the wheel of his '61 Rambler.
This, he told himself, was going to be a pushover. If the uncle was anything like the chick, he could talk them into anything. He'd got a couple of cheap stars for Blow, Baby, Blow. With luck, he'd have the uncle not only a stud, but script writer as well.
He nodded to himself, pleased with the chance meeting. It was about time his luck changed.
He turned the ignition switch to start and pumped the gas pedal furiously. The motor spun, coughed, and spun again.
"Start, you son of a bitch, start," Alec swore at it intently, trying to threaten the motor into life with the urgency of his voice. A lucky meeting of spark and compression happened within the greasy bowels of the Rambler, and the engine shuddered into gasping life. A dense cloud of blue smoke oozed out of the tailpipe as Alec let in the clutch and nursed the car away from the curb. Circling the block, he pulled up in front of a cheap apartment building. Holding the bundle of washing in front of him, he attempted to bury his head in its concealing depths.
The door to the manager's apartment was ajar as he drew alongside it. He hesitated for a second, then, as if he had suddenly remembered something left in the car, he swung on his heel and started to walk away quickly.
"Oh, Mr. Smart." The sudden shout stopped him abruptly in his tracks as a large, overbearing woman appeared in the door opening.
She crossed her large fleshy arms across her ample bosom and looked him up and down. Her eyes took in the tan suede shoes and travelled up the plaid checked jeans with their fashionable flared bottoms. Her eyes twinkled a little as they rested on the tight bulging crotch.
She touched her over-red lips with her tongue, as if in anticipation of some well-remembered treat.
Alec shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Uh... hello, Mrs. Grimes. I was just looking for you."
She allowed her eyes to finish their scrutiny, ignoring his obvious discomfort. In turn she inspected the chrome-yellow tailored shirt with the bright mauve brass-ringed cravat at the open neckline. Her eyes flickered past his nervous Adam's apple and eventually came to rest on his perspiring face.
"So you were looking for me, were you?"
Alec nodded his head dumbly.
"Since when have I been living in the parking lot?" she inquired cautiously.
A hunted look spread across Alec's face. He hunted feverishly for an excuse. "I couldn't remember if I'd locked the car up," he announced.
"Don't worry," Mrs. Grimes said reassuringly. "The used car thieves aren't that desperate yet. It will be quite safe where it is."
Realizing the impossibility of delaying the inevitable, Alec motioned to the open door behind his questioner.
"Should we go inside, my dear?" He eyed the line of apartment doors stretching away along the length of the corridor. In his haunted imagination, an accusing head might appear in one of the doorways at any moment and witness the depths to which the great Alec Smart, film producer, had sunk. And all for a lousy two hundred ten dollars, to pay two months, goddamned rent on his pad.
His landlady sensed his mounting indignation and, reaching out, seized his arm, dragging him inside before his reluctance could harden into open rebellion.
He kicked the door shut with a little quick footwork as he was yanked over the threshold. He made a quick survey of the room, his eyes searching for possible spectators of his forthcoming degradation.
Reassured, he placed the protective shield of his laundry bundle on a chair and smiled ingratiatingly at Mrs. Grimes. He appeared naked and defenseless, parted from the security of his protective bundle of washing. It was like seeing a turtle without the protective armor of its shell.
Wordlessly Mrs. Grimes reached out and undid the large brass buckle of his thick leather belt. There was a slight metallic hiss as his zipper was undone, then his pants wrinkled around his ankles. The pallor of his white legs helped to heighten the illusion of him being a defenseless shell-less turtle.
Mrs. Grimes pointed at his feet and made a quick jerking upward movement with her outstretched finger, like an animal trainer. Obediently Alec stepped, one foot at a time, out of his concertina'd trouser legs.
The commanding finger rose, pointed at his lowered boxer shorts. The finger jerked once more, this time in a downward direction, and the concealing shorts obediently went the same way as his checkered trousers.
A hungry moan broke from the fleshy lips of his landlady as she fell heavily to her knees in front of him. A white fringe of spittle formed around the smudged lipstick of her trembling, slack mouth.
Reaching up, she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Alec shrugged his shoulders resignedly, allowing the yellow shirt to be peeled from him like a banana skin. Naked now, except for his mauve cravat, he stood in front of the huge, dominant figure that knelt before him. Her kneeling position was not one of submission, but reminiscent of a female praying mantis, crouched ready to devour her spent and exhausted mate. The red-rimmed mouth opened cavernously and sought out the wrinkled folds of his limp, hanging penis, he shuddered involuntarily as the wet warm lips encompassed the sensitive head of his glans. The tongue caught and found its target and began to flicker wickedly around his dong. In spite of himself, Alec began to surrender to the insistent stimulation of his member and reached out to press the prick-engulfing head of his landlady closer to him. His knees began to tremble with the effort of standing and instinctively he clutched at his landlady's head for support.
The hard plastic of her curlers dug into the palms of his hands, making him wince with discomfort. Inexorably, the hungry mouth chewed on and on.
A bright pink line of smudged lipstick transferred itself from the lips of his ravisher and formed a ring around the base of his half-hard staff. It was a sort of high watermark, registering the ebb and flow of his landlady's drooling mouth along the length of his captive chopper.
She looked up at him, an abandoned leer creasing her puffed face. Easing his penis partly out of her mouth, she mumbled contentedly. "Two months owing at a hundred and five each. It'll take all night for you to get out of arrears. Feed it to me, Alec baby. Make me happy and I might even forget the utilities."
The import of her words slowly dawned upon the captive Alec. If he had to stay here all night trying to satisfy this middle-aged nymphomaniac, he'd miss the appointment he had made with that braless broad and her incestuous uncle. Wow... he didn't want to miss out on that scene. Particularly for this slobbering hunk of flesh that was giving him a head job right now.
As if impassioned beyond all bearing, he managed to grunt a few words of burning desire and started to pump his prick faster into the gobbling mouth of his still-mumbling landlady.
She clamped her jaws shut around the fleshy intruder. A cry of pain broke from the man above her. "Oy kovoltz. The teeth... you'll ruin me." He extricated his throbbing dong from in between the ivory dentures of the kneeling woman. She hung her head apologetically.
"It's your own fault," she admonished him. "You mad passionate boy. You forced me to submit to you before I had time to take my false teeth out."
Suiting her deeds to her words, she put her hands up to her mouth and loosened her dentures. They came away from her gums with an artificial, clicking sound. Reaching behind her, she placed them carefully on a low coffee table where they smiled up at Alec amusedly.
His landlady's voice diverted his attention away from the grinning example of orthodontic achievement. "Feed it to me, lover. I'm ready now."
Alec looked down at her wrinkled face from which even the liberal application of cosmetics could not erase the passage of time. The full, over-red lips were drawn back in what would have been an enticing manner thirty years ago. The pink, toothless gums gnashed horrifyingly.
He felt his half-hard prick begin to wilt, losing the little muscle that he had been able to summon up during the encounter. Grasping the rapidly softening flesh of his penis, he slid it into the open mouth before its reluctance could be commented on.
Old and ugly as his landlady was, she had learned to suck a cock way back in the twenties and had had plenty of practice since then.
Alec felt his tool start to swell and shudder into life beneath the hot-lipped ministrations of the kneeling woman. His balls began to tighten and the familiar pre-ejacular tingle began to race up his legs and into the pit of his heaving stomach. The convulsive jerking of his ass as he slammed his near-spouting prick into her face warned the landlady of his coming climax. She pushed her hands into his groin and slid her head off his now-firm prick.
"Not now you don't, Mr. Smart ass. I want my money's worth first if it takes all night to get it."
Alec realized that he was going to have to deliver or else spend the night with the old bag. He bent over the brassy blonde head and ran his fingers caressingly though the brittle hair. A mousy, nondescript brown showed at the roots.
"I can't help it, honey," he assured her. "I get so goddamned passionate and carried away when you're near me."
He nodded toward a door at the other end of the room. "Let's go to bed and make ourselves comfortable, should we, huh?"
The rundown blonde eased herself ponderously to her feet and waddled eagerly in the direction of the bedroom. Alec draped his shirt over the grinning set of false teeth on the table and followed her.