Chapter 12
Lori and Art had lain for a long time, resting up from the wild sexual ordeal they had been through. Art had wanted to go home earlier; now he didn't know if he ever wanted to go home. The flush of his uncontrolled
passion had dimmed now as he thought over the events of the evening. Lori, on the other hand, seemed unabashed by what had happened.
"I-I never thought I'd get involved in anything like that," Art said at last.
Lori smiled. "Are you ashamed?"'
"I guess I am-a little bit."
"Don't be, darling. That's life."
"I never thought I could do anything like that."
"There are a lot of things about sex that I thought I'd never do. But, you know, the more I do the better I like it,"
"I don't know how I'm going to like what went on here tomorrow," Art said glumly. "Good God!" "Would you like to try for more?" "Talk sense," he snapped.
"It was just a thought, honey," she said softly. She raised herself on one elbow and looked into his face. They had moved to the bedroom on her suggestion. "I want to feel satisfied."
"I'm satisfied."
"If you're nice to me tonight, you won't have to come back tomorrow," she said.
He glared at her. "I hadn't planned on coming here tomorrow. Or the next day, either."
"Now, now, that's no way to talk. You know you've got to come and see me every so often."
"I don't have to do any such thing," he snapped. "I'm all through, Lori. I don't want to ever come back here. Good God, haven't I been degraded enough?"
She smiled at him, put the tip of her index finger on his lips. "You seemed to enjoy it."
"Don't rub it in."
"Ooh, now don't be so grumpy. You know you like being here and you know that I want you here."
"Well, I don't want to be here and that's that." "Grouch."
"I have to look at myself in the mirror. I have to work with Jim. I have to face my wife..." "You worry too much," she giggled. "And you don't worry enough." "But isn't it good?" "What the hell's good about it?" "Me."
He sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. "All right, I'll grant you that, Lori. But I can't come here any more. You can't make me do something I don't want to do. I have to look out for myself."
"Of course you do, darling," she said sweetly. "And I have to look out for myself, too. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
He thought about her words for some time. They seemed to carry a hidden meaning. "What do you mean?"
"Well, a woman has to live, you know. This is the summer season and there are no paychecks coming in for me. What Jim gave me"-she shrugged, making her titties jounce up and down-"just isn't enough. You understand, don't you?"
"Hold it," Art snapped. "Am I reading you right? Do you want me to pay you?"
"Oh, don't be so harsh. I'm not asking for much, darling. Just enough to keep some food in the place..."
"And booze in the cabinet, maybe a fur or two in the closet. Hell, baby, you don't just want to live-you want to live it up."
"You're angry again," she pouted.
"Angry isn't the word, baby. Pissed off is more like it What are you trying to do, sell me your pussy or blackmail me?"
Lori turned away, momentarily stung by his words. "You make it sound so ... so terrible," she said.
"Whatever it is, I call it a bunch of bullshit," he snapped. "You should know better than that."
"Don't you have even a little feeling for me? You always used to tell me how much you admired me, how you wished you had married someone like me."
"Oh, come off it, Lori. You know those were simply things I said to get you to go to bed with me. You've used the same line of bull yourself. As far as you having any feelings for me, don't try to con me. You're interested in getting laid and getting paid for it. You're nothing but a damned blackmailing whore! There, is that plain enough for you?"
But Lori wasn't the kind of woman to be shocked over anything. She smiled weakly, and said, "Well, no matter how you look at it or what you call it, I still have to live. Just a little from you would get me by nicely."
"Yeah, and a little from a half a dozen other guys would really set you up in style, wouldn't it? Would you like me to start rounding up customers for you?"
"Oh, Art..."
"Oh, Art, my ass," he snorted. "If you want to go into business why don't you say so?"
"I don't want to go into business."
"Hell, baby, you're already in business. Where the hell did those two guys come from? You must have been with them before, otherwise they wouldn't just barge in here and take off their clothes."
"Oh, stop it, Art. You make it sound like I have dozens of men coming up here every day."
"That's right. In your case it would take dozens a day to satisfy you!"
"Please don't talk to me like that," she said in a hurt 127voice. "Let's just say you and I have a little arrangement between us."
Resignedly, Art asked, "Okay, how much would you say this arrangement was worth tonight?"
"I'll leave that up to you. You'd know more about those things than I do."
"How the hell would I know what a whore charges? I never knew one until I met you! I always got my nooky for free before."
"Now don't start that again," she said.
"Well, how much?"
* You should know what it costs to live," she replied.
'You mean I'm supposed to pay all your expenses? Jesus Christ, you're really hungry, aren't you?"
"It doesn't take much to live," she said. "Just the rent and a little food and..."
"Don't forget the booze," he said, waving his hand toward the bar.
"Well, yes,"" she said. "Maybe a little. But it's for you, too, dear."
"Generous of you."
"Now, now, you're being bitter, Art. If could be worse. Just imagine if you happened to annoy someone and they got angry and called your wife. Imagine all that good money she has just disappearing from under your nose. What a shame. And sometimes people lose their jobs after years of hard work just because they did something the boss didn't like." She shook her head in mock woe.* "Tsk, tsk, tsk."
"Right where the hair is short, eh?" he said wryly.
"Just be nice, darling. It's really the best way." She smiled sweetly at him. "Drink?"
He shook his head. Then said quickly, "Hell, yes. As long as I'm going to be paying for it I may as well drink. Make it a double."
"All right," she said, giggling.
"By the way, when am I booked again?" he asked.
Lori didn't answer. She hummed lightly as she mixed new drinks. Her spirits were high. Female had bested male and hurray and all that.
Art knew he would have to get untangled from Lori as quickly and as gracefully as possible. His income was not such that he could afford to keep up another woman. His wife was already nagging him about his salary. She thought that he should be getting more than he was. The money she had inherited remained hers.
Lori returned with the drinks. "Here you are, darling," she cooed. "Maybe this will help settle your nasty old nerves."
He looked at her and snorted lightly. "There's one thing you didn't consider when you asked me to pay for your pussy," he said. "Did you ever think that I might not be able to afford you? I don't make a hell of a lot, you know."
"Of course I've thought of that, silly," she smiled. "I have a good idea what you make."
"Then you know that whatever extra I can afford isn't much."
"I know that, Art. But, being the finance officer of the company ought to help shake loose a little extra spending money."
He glared at her angrily. "Oh, no you don't, baby. You're not getting me to dip into the company funds. No way, sweetheart. That's embezzlement and embezzlers go to prison. That damn pussy of yours isn't worth a prison sentence to me."
"Embezzlers only go to prison if they're caught. The clever ones make money."
"To piss away on whores," he growled.
Now Lori's anger came to the surface. "Look, Art, I've tried to be nice to you and give you a chance to have your fun and still keep your nose clean. If you want to play the game another way, well, let's try it and see what happens."
"You're sick, Lori. You're sick and you're rotten and you're just plain no good. You played me for a sucker and now you're going to try to bleed me for suppose money. Well, you can threaten me all you want, but you'd better remember one thing: Art Bond isn't going to take it lying down."
"Oh? And what do you propose to do about it?" she asked smugly.
"Right now I don't know, but you can bet that I'll be working my brain overtime. I'm in a trap now, but not for long. Sure, I'll pay you what I can now, but you'd better be on your toes all the time because I'm going to wiggle out."
She shrugged. "Fair enough," she said. "But don't forget that I'm holding all the cards right now." She stirred at her hair with a movement directed by instinct. She began to hum again, closing her eyes to sort out a tune She looked at him after a time and noticed the defeated look on his face. "You shouldn't get so angry, darling, it isn't good for you."
"I'm not angry," he snapped. "I'm just plain pissed off."
"Good," she said. "I like a man with a little life in him, a little spunk."
"Well, this cat is about spunked out. I've got to go."
"Oh, please don't go yet," Lori begged. "The night is still young."
"My ass is tired."
"Art... no," she said.
"Good God, didn't you get enough earlier?" "I never get enough."
She lay beside him and pressed the tips of her breasts against his arm. Her hand went to his crotch. She picked up his sticky, limp cock and held it between thumb and forefinger.
"Ooh, that thing is sick," she said. "Mommy will have to kiss it and make it well."
"Christ, haven't you chewed on that thing enough already?"
"Heavens, no. I could do that to you all night," she said.
She squirmed around on the bed so her face was directly over his limp prick. She looked at it a moment, lifting it to examine it in the dim light. Then she put the entire cock in her mouth, coiling it so that her lips were at the very base of it. She swabbed her tongue around on it, pulling upward with her lips so that the limp, cock stretched from his body like flesh taffy. She moved her mouth around on it in circles, rubbing her lips into the thick hair that grew around the base.
"Damn you," Art grunted.
She took her mouth away for a moment and said, "I knew I could make it hard again."
"You're nothing but a goddamn she-witch, a sex fiend."
"Ummmhmmm, and don't you like it?"
"Eat the damn thing and get it over with," he said gruffly. "I've got to get out of here."
"Oh, Art, honey, don't be mean to me..."
"How the hell can I be otherwise?"
"You could cooperate." She swung her hips around so that her pussy was opposite his head.
"Forget it, baby," he said. "Our arrangement doesn't call for that."
"You liked it before."
"That was before you got shitty about our deal." 131"Please..." "No!"
Art turned his head and looked at the matted fur between Lori's legs. He had an urge to put his face into the hairy muff but checked it.
Lori was sucking on his cock again, making it rise despite Art's reluctance to have another session with her. Then, when it was fully hard again, she took her mouth off it. She put her hand on the wet staff and pumped up and down lightly. The wetness made squishing, squeaky sounds.
"All right, if you want to fuck one more time, let's get it over with," he said.
"Don't be so gruff," she said.
He turned, his body around and flipped her over on her back. He looked at her for a moment, then got between her legs. His hard cock bobbed up and down just over her pussy. He put his hand on her cunt and dug it open roughly. Guiding his cockhead to the opening held apart with his fingers, he rammed into her roughly.
She grunted and pulled her hips into the mattress "Ouch."
"You want to get fucked, don't you?"
"But not so rough."
"You made the game rough," he said.
Now he set up a steady in and out stroking, merely plowing into her, withdrawing, then plunging his stiff prick back into her. She tried to set up a rhythm with him, but he avoided it by changing his. He did not fondle her breasts, did not kiss them. He lay atop her like rank amateur and rammed his thick cock in and out of her.
"Oh, Art... please. Not that way," she cried.
"A fuck is a fuck."
"You're being cruel."
"Just shut up and get your fuck," he growled. He stroked in and out of her with long, hard rammings, oblivious to her desperate movements in trying to stay in tempo with him, ignoring her pleas to slow down and enjoy what he was doing.
Then, with a sudden tensing of his body, he shot his load into her unfulfilled channel of love. He buried his cock in her and let the squirts spew from it almost without moving his hips. When he was through, he pulled his spent prick from her as quickly as he could.
She tried to hang onto him, driving her hips upward trying to hold his cock in her, but he was already gone.
"Oh, Art... please ... please," she pleaded. "I'm not through yet."
"I am," he said curtly, and got off her and off the bed. "You're not going to leave me here like this, are you?" "You didn't say I had to satisfy you." "But Art..."
"Why don't you finger-fuck yourself?"
"You're mean."
"That's right. I mean to be."
"Is that the way it's going to be from now on?" she asked. "Yup."
"You're going to be sorry, Art. I'm giving you everything and you want to play that way."
"It's your ball game, baby. You said you wanted me to fuck you and that's what I did. I kept my end of the bargain." He looked down at her, smiled cruelly, and said, "All right, whore, how much do I owe you?"
"You bastard!"
"Yup."
"You rotten prick!"
"Right again," he said. "I guess maybe it's the company I keep." "Fuck you!"