Chapter 10

Two days had gone by since Jim had been to Lori's apartment. No one else had called. No one had come up. Lori had called the office and asked for Art Bond. She was told that he was busy. She tried Ken Bowman. She got the same message.

Jim had warned them to stay away from her, she thought, and the anger she had been able to hold in check since Jim's visit now grew in her again. She and Jim had not parted on amiable terms, she recalled. After their session on the floor, he had become angry and warned her once again not to interfere with the men in his office. He had been quite firm about that, she remembered. He had said something about informing the school board about her and that had frightened her some.

She got up from the couch and went to the phone. She called Jim's office, asked for either Ken Bowman or Art Bond.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cameron," the girl said, "but neither of them is in. Can I take a message?"

"No!" She slammed the phone down.

She strode across the room and made herself a drink. It was still early afternoon and she wondered if it was possible both Ken and Art were out; or was the girl under orders to cover up?

She got up from the sofa and went to the full-length mirror in the hallway. She twirled in front of it. "How could they not want me?" she asked out loud. She noticed the upthrust contour of her breasts, the well-rounded hips. Her face was still young and when she smiled at herself she had to admit to a definite attractiveness that most men would find hard to resist.

She spun away from the mirror, looking back over her shoulder to admire the trim figure she still retained. She noticed her buttocks, round and well-formed, and smiled with self-delight.

Well, she thought, if Art Bond was trying to avoid her, she would have to do something about it.

From her clothes closet she took a gown of green silk, exquisite and expensive. She smoothed it out over the bed and selected her finest lingerie from her dresser. She laid out a pair of semi-high heels.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon getting ready. A long, lingering shower helped to quiet the uneasinesss in her. She put on her make-up very carefully, giving special attention to her eyes. She bound her thick, lustrous hair into a high-piled bun on top of her head and set a silver barrette in it. She wanted to look different from all the other women on the street. Minis and straight long hair were out.

When the time came, she pulled on the sheer lace and net panties that would be no more than a wisp of material between her body and her gown. The matching bra had been embroidered with her initials. It had been Jim's idea. He thought it would be amusing to have it done. "Just in case we ever go to an orgy you'll know your own underwear," he had said. When she slipped the green silk over her head, she went to check the effect in the mirror. She backed away smiling, pleased with her efforts.

She picked up her purse and started out of the apartment. There was a bar in the hotel next to Jim's office where Art Bond hung out. If Art thought he could throw her over just like that, well, Mr. Bond had another thought coming, she said to herself. Jim Cameron wasn't going to dictate to her who she could see and who she couldn't,

Lori hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the bar where she hoped she would run into Art Bond.

The Gold Key Inn was dark and quiet although there were a lot of people crowding the place. It was one of those spots where businessmen went to talk business and meet their girlfriends.

Lori stood for a short time, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. When they got in proper focus, she looked about the room for Art Bond. She listened, toe for his loud voice and raucous laugh, a beam on which she could home in case she heard it. She did not locate him.

The fat man who approached her asked her politely i he could help her.

"Yes," Lori said. "Do you know if Art Bond is here?"

The man's thick thumb jerked toward the rear c the room. "Back there," he said. He studied Lori without moving aside to let her pass.

She looked at him, puzzled.

"You, ah, Mrs. Bond?" the man asked.

Lori smiled. "No, just a friend," she said.

"Oh," the man said slowly, still eyeing Lori carefully. "Because Art told me his wife was going to meet him here later. I didn't want to ... ah ..." He jerked his thumb toward the back room again.

Head high, Lori made her way toward the room which she could now see was about half the size of the front portion of the Gold Key. The lights were dim. Subdued laughter and talk indicated the intimacy of the interior.

The loudness of Art Bond's voice drew Lori's attention to a table to the left of the doorway. He saw her immediately and was on his feet before she reached the table. The smile he wore looked forced, uneasy.

"I know, I know," Lori said before he had a chance to speak. "Your wife is coming. I'll make it quick."

"I've been meaning to get in touch with you," he said

"You know how to reach me," she said stiffly.

There were two other men at the table and their attention was drawn to the two standing figures. Art glanced at them, then moved toward Lori and lower d his voice.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "But it's been kind of rough in the office lately. It's been bad enough trying to learn everything about Jim's job, but the home front is getting a little hot. I can't afford to antagonize the wife right now. A stink around the office would blow everything for me. I know you're not interested in my personal life, but I may as well level with you. You see, she's got most of the money. Everything's in her name. And I... well, you know, had to come to some kind of terms with her. I've got to use my head. Hell, Lori, I'm too old to start over somewhere else. You should know how these things are. You've been through it."

'Yes," Lori said evenly. "I've been through it. I've had the door slammed in my face so I know exactly how it feels." She smiled weakly, turned and walked quickly through the insolent darkness that seemed to mock her as she hurried from the bar.

There was a bank of telephone booths in the lobby of the hotel next door and Lori went into a vacant cubicle and hastily dialed Ken's number.

She heard his voice, sleepy and dull, at the other end of the line. "Hullo?"

"Ken? Is that you?" she asked. "You sound strange."

"Oh, hello, Lori," he said flatly.

"How are you, lover?"

"All right, I guess. And you?"

"Oh, fine ... just fine," she said sweetly.

"I've been meaning to call you, but I've been so busy. I'm sorry."

'You don't have to be," she said cheerily. "Those things happen. Oh, I was a little disappointed that I didn't hear from you, but I assumed the office was tying you down."

"I'm sorry about not getting in touch with you, though," he said slowly. "I guess I should have ..."

"Ken ... dar-ling," she purred. "Everything is all right. Don't keep apologizing. I'm not angry. I was just wondering if you were busy tonight. Maybe we could have dinner."

There was a long pause on the line. Finally, he said "Gosh, I'm awfully sorry, but I've already eaten."

"Oh," she said thoughtfully. "Well, maybe you'd like to come over and keep me company while I have my dinner. Then we could have coffee together, maybe a drink or two. Or, if you'd like, we could go to a movie."

"Ah, well, I, ah . . . I'd like to, Lori, but I have some work to finish up for in the morning."

Lori stared at the telephone. She couldn't speak for several minutes. He was turning her down. Ken Bow man was actually turning her down!

"I see," she said dryly. "Well, maybe tomorrow. What would you like to do tomorrow? You know I kind of miss you, darling."

"Lori," he said abruptly, "I'm going to be away on a trip for the next couple of days. That's why I've got to finish this work up tonight. It has to be done. I'll have to fly to the coast with it myself so you can see how important it is. I'll give you a call when I get back." His words were curt, almost biting.

"Yes," she said soberly. "Of course. Have a good trip Goodbye, Ken."

"Lori?"

"Yes, Ken."

"I may be gone for the rest of the week. You never know how long these things are going to take. I'll call you when I get back."

She put the phone on the hook with another word. She stood for some time, staring at the wall. The phone booth seemed to be pressing in on her.

A brush-off, she thought.

"The lousy bastard," she flared.

She couldn't bear the thought of going back to her empty apartment-not now. There was the night stretching vacant and cold ahead of her. She suddenly saw her whole life stretching vacuously ahead of her in the same manner. Is this what her life was going to be from now on, she wondered. Was that what men did when they used a woman's body? Did they tire so quickly? The only consolation that she had was that there were still a lot of men around, new men. Surely, die told herself, there must be some decent ones left.

She opened the door of the booth and muttered out loud, "A brush-off. Can you imagine?"

From behind her, a deep, resonant voice said, "No, I can t.

Lori turned and looked into a strange face, red with drink and bright with desire.

"You look like you could stand a drink," the man said. "Care to join me?"

Lori studied the man's face for a moment and decided she liked it. She shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Maybe I do need one."

The man wasn't attractive, Lori decided. But he had a certain male charm about him that she liked. He was an older man whose head had worn through his hair. His teeth were large, slightly yellowed and spaced far apart.

He took her arm at the biceps and opened his fingers so that they touched Lori's breast. She instinctively pulled away.

"Hey, don't be so touchy," he said. "Ain't nothing wrong with a little feel, is there?"

"In the right place and at the right time," Lori said. "Out here it's crude."

"Everything in life is a little crude sometimes."

"Do you have a name?" she asked.

"Hugh." "Lori."

He smiled as he swung his head around. "You're no married, I hope."

"Not married," she smiled. "Of course you wouldn't be."

"And you? What is your wife doing tonight?" Lori laughed.

"Probably glued in front of the TV, watching some stupid program," he said.

In the bar, Lori sipped her drink slowly, wondering about the man beside her. She thought of Ken and Art and Jim. With a sudden shiver, defiance course through her body. Quickly moving her leg, she touched her knee against his leg. He did not move but pressed his leg ever so gently against her knee. Lori could hear his breathing become heavier and, when she looked a him, she could see his eyes had turned bright and glass' It was obvious he had already had a bit too much t drink.

But there was no fear in Lori. She was enthralled with her own power over men. It gave her a feeling c deep satisfaction that she could so easily arouse a man.

For the next half hour they talked about many thing . To Lori it was a game, a game she had learned to play well. She had found amusement in it, teasing a male, leading him on, then leaving him in a panting, helpless condition when she decided she had gone far enough. She had altered the rules slightly since her divorce, preferring to get on with whatever she had in mind rather than going through all the preliminaries first.

Lori noticed Hugh glance quickly down at her glass, which was still half full.

"Drink up," he said.

She laughed lightly. "My but you're in a hurry, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want to get me to the point of no return as quickly as you can." "I didn't mean to..."

"Sure you did," she smiled. "Don't be so eager. Everything will come in due time." "Maybe it's because it's been a while." "Don't feel bad. I've been approached before." He thought a moment, then said, "It looked to me like you were doing the approaching back there in the phone booth." "You were listening?"

"I couldn't help overhear you invite some guy over for coffee. I was in the next booth making excuses of my own."

"I was lonesome."

He looked at her evenly. He nudged his knee against hers. "Are you still lonesome?"

"Oh, a little," she said. She finished her drink and set the glass on the bar. "Let's have one more."

Silently, the bartender picked up her glass and moved away to make her another one.

"I could remedy that," Hugh said.

"You have a car?" Lori asked.

"Waiting like a faithful dog just outside the door." They finished their drinks quickly and left the bar. Outside, Lori was surprised that she staggered slightly. If there was one thing she didn't like it was getting too boozed up in public There was always the chance that some school board member might see her. Or one of her many students.

The liquor ignited small fires of passion in her, yet she oddly found herself caring less and less about the idea of going to bed with Hugh. For some reason, she found the look in his eyes too eager, slightly scary. Yet she agreed to accompany him to a small hotel where she planned to play along with him for a while, then dump him.

Lori entered the room ahead of Hugh and snapped on the bright overhead light. She whirled around in the center of the room, her arms spread wide. "Whee!" she shrilled. Hugh stood and watched, half amused and half puzzled.

"Better quiet down," he said. "They could throw us out."

"Oh, you old grump," she chided. She fell face down on the bed, then rolled over. "Ooh, this is nice."

Smiling, Hugh began to pull his sport shirt over his head. He tossed the garment aside, then started to unbuckle his belt.

"Hey," she said, sitting up. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Getting comfortable," he said curtly.

"I think I'd better go," Lori said. She watched him, suddenly wary of the man. On his back she saw little tufts of black hair. She saw his pants drop to his knees. With one quick move, he reached for the light switch and snapped off the light. The room fell into almost total darkness.

"Hey, now wait a minute," she protested. She started to get up, started to move away from the spot where she had last seen him, but Hugh was on the bed like a cat pushing her backwards. His strong arms held her tight while his hands pawed at her breasts.

"Why wait?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "We've spent enough time waiting already."

"I-I don't want to..."

"Sure you do, baby. Come on, get some of those clothes off." He tugged at her dress, then grabbed crudely at her legs, trying to run his hand under her skirt.

If Lori had had any idea earlier of submitting to this man, the feeling left her with a suddenness that bordered on panic. She thought of screaming but then thought better of it. After all, she had agreed to accompany him to this room in a dingy hotel. She had no desire to have her name in the papers. Perhaps, she thought, she could still talk this rough man into giving up the struggle.

"If your wife knew you were getting so rough, she'd..."

"Get off that shit," he growled. "Let's get with it."

He clawed at her dress, tearing at it. He pulled at her skirt, pushing her frantically flailing arms aside as he panted over her.

"You're hurting me," she pleaded. "Come on, how about behaving? Be a good boy."

But Hugh was determined to have her. He pressed his body atop hers. He sought her lips with his mouth and found himself kissing her cheek instead.

Lori was in full panic now. She realized she had teased the man to the point where there was no return. Now she had two choices: submit willingly or try to fight him off. The first was not too terrible, she realized, but there was something about Hugh that thoroughly frightened her. She decided to fight.

She reached up as though to hug him. She put her hands on the sides of his face, felt for his eyes, and jammed her thumbs into the sockets.

"Why, you bitch!" he cried as he tore himself away from her.

Lori could not see him, but she felt him. She felt his heavy fists come crashing down on her face. Lightning flashed in her head, stars blinked. Then some distant bells clanged.

"You goddamn lousy bitch!" he growled through clenched teeth. "What the hell do you think you're doing You lead me along all evening and now you pull this Well, you're going to give me what I want or else."

Lori covered her face with her hands and felt two more blows hammer against them, then a vicious back hand caught her alongside the head, then another from the other side.

"Oh, God! Stop .. * please stop!" she cried.

'You going to be a good little girl and do what I say?"

Almost inaudibly, her voice came to him. 'Yes."

'That's better," he growled. "Now, let's get down to business."

He was astraddle of her in an instant, sitting on her chest. He hunched upward slightly and she felt the heat of his cock close to her mouth.

"Now," he said, grasping her hair and pulling her head upward, "how about giving my prick a few licks?"

She shook her head from side to side.

"Hey, baby, maybe you don't understand the kind of game we're playing," he said. "I asked you to suck my cock."

"No... please," she whimpered.

"No, my ass," he snapped. 'You see that nice hard cock in front of your face, don't you? Now you just go ahead and put it in your mouth and suck it."

Lori knew it was hopeless to resist. She raised her head to the cockhead, sniffing the aroma of his unwashed crotch. She wanted to hold her breath, but his body was heavy on hers and she found breathing difficult.

He put his hand under her head and pulled her face against him. Then, when he saw he was too high on the bed, he slid his hands under her shoulders and pulled her down until her feet dangled over the bottom of the tired old bed. He crawled over her until his crotch was directly over her face. His cock stood out like a lever from his body. He took his hand and bent it down to her mouth.

"Okay, now open up and give me a real nice suck," he said. "And I don't want you to bite, either."

Lori opened her mouth and felt the rubbery head of his prick go immediately into her mouth. She wanted to pull back to keep from choking, but he pressed downward until the sponge of the head Was gagging her. She felt his hairy balls on her chin, smelled the strong odor of his testicles and his crotch. Desperately, she pushed him upward, almost vomiting as the odorous cock unplugged her throat.

"Not so deep," she managed to say before he plunged into her once again.

She gagged again, and her body quivered from the pain of her plumbed throat. But he paid no attention to her frantic pushes against his belly. He was over her, fucking her mouth in a frenzied, maddened motion, his balls slapping against her chin as he rammed into her.

She moaned in agony, tried to hold him off her. If only he wasn't so rough, she thought, she would suck him off until he came. Then it would be over. Sucking a cock wasn't that bad; having one rammed down your throat was something else. She tried to bob her head to give him the idea she was willing, licking at the flared glans, running her tongue onto the tender bottom side of his shaft. He didn't get the idea.

"Come on, baby, suck that cock," he grunted. "Suck it real good until it pops."

Then, when she thought she might suffocate, she gave a giant heave and rolled him to one side. But she did not let his cock slip out of her mouth. Instead, she held onto it by clutching at his ass and pinching it tightly between her lips.

"Hey, now that's better," he groaned. He adjusted his body and put his hands on the back of her head. He toyed with her hair for some moments as she bobbed up and down on his stiff prick, then took her ears and held them like jug handles, pulling her head down on him as his hips hunched upward.

Then she felt his body quiver. She heard his breath suck in. His hands slid to the sides of her head in the first gentle movement he had shown her. His cock jerked spastically and Lori's eyes watered. She took hold of his balls and held them tight against the base of his cock. Suddenly, there was a flood of slimy glue spewing into her mouth and she knew this part of the ordeal was over.

"Oh, man, that was something," he groaned. "You really know how to blow a guy once you make up your mind to do it."

Lori could find no words. She lay on the bed, breathing hard, and perspiring. She let the slimy gray lava drool out of her mouth and onto the sheet.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked after a time.

"You could have been more gentle."

"Yeah? Maybe you should have been more cooperative. After all, that's your business, isn't it?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, come on, you're a prostitute, aren't you?"

"I should say not!" she snapped.

He laughed then. It was a deep, nasty laugh that made the anger rise in her. "If you aren't, you sure come on like one," he said.

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Hugh Whoever-you-are. I'm no whore." She slid slowly off the bed and started for the door.

"How much for the blow job?" he asked, still laughing. "Go to hell!"

She snatched the doorknob, turned quickly, and pulled the door open. In a soft rustle of liquid motion, she was out the door and walking rapidly down the hall.

Oh, God, do I really look like a common whore? This guy takes one look at me and thinks I'm ready to go to bed with him for a price. Oh, no!

She hailed a cab and returned to her apartment. Even the cabbie, she thought, had looked at her curiously, a hidden hunger in his eyes that begged for invitation.

When she pushed the door shut behind her, Lori felt the pain of Hugh's blows intensify. She walked slowly through the apartment, ending up in the bathroom where she applied a cold wash rag to her bruised face.

She looked in the broken mirror and felt the sobs lift her shoulders. She wanted to pray, but the words had fled from her memory long ago. She remembered that she had prayed frantically once, so frantically she had virtually worn holes in the sky. And she had been denied. Whatever it was she had prayed for was not granted. She had given it up then.

She drew a tub of warm water. She undressed and tossed her rumpled clothes into the hallway. Then she got into the tub. She lay in the water, letting it hug her with its soothing warmth.

Far below, the vehicles of the city played their fast chess to the bidding of different colored traffic lights. People tunneled themselves into the underground cement and iron rivers that never seemed to cease, taking [away, bringing in. An endless game, a rhythm that vibrated the city with its heavy pulse. The tempo of the city and the momentum of Lori's misery were one.

But then she brightened slightly as she recalled how she had played the game herself. She had won some, lost some. This one she had lost. And that was the way it went.