Chapter 4
Brenda found London's underground as exciting as the Metro in Paris. She was always thrilled when a score of anxious, angry, cursing, sweaty travelers successfully insisted on forcing their impatient way into a carriage whose occupants were already standing, breathless, on one another's toes. Young, healthy, full of joie de vivre and free as the birds in the trees, she delighted in the peak hour crush. Why spend money on Turkish baths and a massage when you can sweat it out in the underground, your excessive pounds pommelled away by the agitated rumps, hips, thighs, breasts and bellies, or with a handsome male stranger-as happened one early evening when she was on her way from Richter Hospital to Valerie's apartment and birth-day. A too sudden halt forced each passenger into intimate physical contact with another member of the human species. Brenda counted herself lucky that the person who broke her fall was a tall, broad-shouldered, middle-aged gentleman whose tweed suit, thinning gray hair and clipped, sandy moustache combined to create a military impression. She was pleased and flattered that he availed himself of the occasion to outline with his hands the curve of her shoulders, waist and hips and to dig his fingers into the sparsely clothed flesh of her buttocks. As all the passengers regained their equilibrium she smiled at him.
"Can't honestly say Pm sorry, young lady," he said in a voice as clipped as his major-like moustache.
"I can honestly say I'm glad you don't regret a thing."
"like a gal with a 'tongue in her head! Lovely bottom you've got!"
"And a wicked tongue you've got. Must leave you now. I get off at the next stop."
"Me too!"
"Coincidence!"
He shook his head "No," and pressed her so close to him that she felt the stirring of his fertile sex.
"You'll have to gate-crash a birthday party."
The train stopped. He stepped out and offered her his arm. "If hell had gates, I'd crash 'em."
If Brenda had invited a dozen unexpected guests to Valerie's party, they would all have been welcome; but Bernie made a bad impression from the moment of his gallant arrival. He overplayed his role of "pukkah" officer and blase gentleman and the name behind which he hid his real identity came too obviously out of a magazine for women. Who ever heard of an army officer with the name of Bernard ("the chaps call me Bernie") Fitzallan-Al-Ian? He could talk of nothing but "bosses," fast motor cars, and the devastatingly beautiful and "Oh-so-naughty!" Honorable Penelope "This" and Lady "That."
It happened that Valerie had been taught to ride a pony as soon as she could walk, that one of her guests, Nadine Beaufort, wrote the society column for one of London's most distinguished daily news-papers, and that Basil Kent, another guest, was a designer of cars, including racing models. Neither Valerie, Nadine, nor Basil was able to converse with Bernie, who insisted he knew more about horses, high society and motor racing than they did when in fact he had only the most superficial knowledge of any of these subjects.
He had lots of charm and he managed to convey the impression that he was "a helluva whisky-man" without drinking half as much as the other guests. He had so much success with several of the girls that he rarely moved across to Brenda to remind her tacitly of their unspoken contract to spend the night together.
And Brenda was so busy flirting, dancing and chattering with first one and then another of Valerie's guests that she scarcely noticed that her phony major was slipping away from her.
As the party broke up there was a certain amount of horseplay, which resulted in Brenda's shouting "Bye-bye, darling!" to Valerie from the shoulders of three or four men who had taken care to lift her high enough to permit everyone to get a good view of her pretty legs. Laughing, singing and more-than-shoulder-high, Brenda left her friend's flat waving her hand invitingly to Bernie, who happened to be so intent on telling a tall story to the Heathcoat twins that he did not notice her. Brenda was halfway home in Nadine's car before she be-came aware of Bernie's absence.
"Don't worry, darling! He'll be along soon, in Basil's crock. Basil's dropping the Heathcoats a couple of minutes from here. Then he'll join us here, drop Bernie, and then the two cars move north in convoy."
Not long after, at Valerie's apartment, the Heathcoat girls continued descending the stairs, while Basil ran back.
"Can I drop you somewhere, old boy?" he asked Bernie, the only remaining guest.
"No, thank you! I'll stay and keep our hostess company."
Basil was flabbergasted. A few seconds previously he had left Bernie saying "Good-night and thank you!" to a virtuous girl who obviously loathed him and here was the same Bernie announcing the same Valerie's intention of letting him share her bed for the night. Basil, however, was no more astonished than Valerie, who, having taken as little notice possible of Bernie throughout the evening had de-voted the past minute to nothing more than the courteous acceptance of the gate-crasher's expressions of gratitude for a most enjoyable evening. What!? She had not invited Bernie to stay a little longer, nor had he suggested he wished to prolong his visit. Nevertheless she smiled resignedly at Basil, and dismissed with a pulled shrug of her shoulders.
In his consternation Basil forgot to close the door of Valerie's apartment, and not looking where he was going, almost .knocked down the stairs a young woman who was making her way up to her own apartment, which was immediately above Valerie's. He apologized absently, recognized her, ex-claimed, "Miss Paignton!" and hurried down to where the twins and his car awaited him.
Sadie Paigntori, tired after her evening behind the bar at "The Crown," paused at Valerie's door and leaned against its frame. Her lassitude was driven out of her bones by the sight of the silent Bernie, in silence, unbuttoning his hostess' blouse, which he pulled out of the waistband of her black skirt. She watched, hypnotized, as he pulled the blouse backwards off Valerie's unresisting shoulders, eased the straps of her slip down to her elbows and unfastened her brassiere. Valerie was naked down to her navel and neither she nor her seducer had given the slightest sign of awareness of Sadie's presence. Sadie was torn between the desire to avoid detection until she had witnessed the performance in full and the more perverse hope that the handsome stranger and Valerie, knowing she was there, would indulge, merely because they were excited by her presence, in a performance which would otherwise never have entered their heads.
In fact, both Valerie and Bernie had known she was there from the moment Basil collided with her; for Valerie it was not the moment to allow petty details to deflect her from her course, while Bernie was working on the principle that two birds in a nearby bush are worth one in the hand.
Having feasted his eyes on the merchandise he had just uncovered, Bernie looked at Sadie for the first time. In her glistening eyes he saw congratulations, admiration and, he thought, an invitation.
He pulled both Valerie's arms behind her back, gripped her wrists in one hand and propelled her to within a yard of the onlooker. Moving his hands up to Valerie's biceps, he forced her elbows closer together, bringing her shoulders back, so that her hard, thrilled breasts thrust forward their inflated, pink nipples. Sadie felt herself challenged and mocked by the inebriating beauty of her neighbour's arrogant nakedness. ' Furthermore, the stranger's cold, gray eyes and the hard line of his mouth seemed to conspire with the quivering nostrils of his pseudo-aristocratic proboscis to convey to her an unspeakable command. Obediently she raised her hand to the height of Valerie's face, pause long enough to warn Valerie of her intentions, then slapped Valerie sharply across the mouth. Her hand continued its curved movement until it came to rest on her own left shoulder. She remained as she was, statuesque, only her eyes running from Bernie's face to Valerie's. She knew what was expected of her. The second time it was the back of her hand which struck the right cheek of the defenseless virgin.
Even before Bernie drew Valerie 'back into the room, Sadie felt that he had no more need of her brutality and she wondered whether he wished her to stay or to retire, until a peremptory jerk of his head banished her hopes of witnessing, for the first time in her life, a copulation of which she was not one of the participants. Nevertheless, she remained where she was, as Bernie kissed Valerie tenderly. She noticed that his hands caressed Val's face as though he wished to soothe the pain of the two blows. After the long, gently lewd kiss and a few seconds of his stroking Valerie's bruised lips, he looked to Sadie and seemed to ask "How could you strike and hurt so sweet a girl-and she your neighbor who had done nothing to provoke you! Are you a woman or a beast?" He was all love, pity, and repentance.
He repeated his silent command that the intruder should withdraw and Sadie obeyed, but so slowly that she did not step out onto the landing and close the door behind her before seeing him unzip Valerie's skirt and open the fastener of her suspender belt, so that the skirt dragged the slip down to the carpet and the belt sagged on top of them.
Bernie stepped back a couple of paces and appraised his docile companion. Short and slimly sturdy, she was a handsome sight, bare from the knees upwards, except for her black panties of such fine nylon that her flesh shone through them and imparted to them a misty violet glow. They were both silent, tense: she, motionlessly delighting in his lascivious admiration of her body; he, tigerishly circling her, staring hard at his succulent victim, seeking to embarrass a girl who had never previously been naked in the presence of a man (other than a doctor and her father). She scarcely breathed. There was pain in her chest. Her throat and lips were dry, scorched by the heat of her desire which "irritated" her loins. She was tempted to scratch herself, but she did not feel free to do anything without Bernie's command. He had to make the first move.
He approached her again, kissed her lingeringly, making her writhe and groan. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He lowered her gently onto the bedspread, peeled off her stockings and let them drop. On the bed, alongside her, he stuck his tongue into her mouth and sent his hands on an independent tour of inspection of her shoulders, arms, breasts, belly, thighs and buttocks. One of his hands slipped under the waistband of her panties, his manicured fingernails combed her pubic hairs, and one finger touched the mouth of her sex, which seemed ,to open moistly and invitingly. His finger found her. clitoris, which gave her a small electric shock. Her sigh was almost a hiss. She threw a thigh over him and sank her teeth into his lips. He gripped her jaw, forced her head back, so that her back curved away from him, and pressed her still-pantied crotch closer against his fully clothed loins. Under her chin, his lips and teeth nibbled her. In a fit of passionate frustration, she broke away from him, buried her face in her pastel blue, Koln wassered pillow, and thumped the bed a dozen times with her feet and fists. He flung her over onto her back and liberated her from the prison of her panties.
Then Bernie proudly showed Valerie his penis-longer than average, straight and on the slender side, which slimness justifies his calling himself "the virgin's best friend." He caressed it, toyed with it and tacitly invited Valerie to pay eye-homage to it. She would have liked to touch it, but he did not order her to do so, and he was her "master." She had to content herself with a visual feast, and what joy she had! Her lips formed words, but she did not dare say "It's beautiful, Bernie. I love it. Give me it, Bernie! Quick. Fill me! kill me, if you must! but have me! Give! Take! Bernie! Bern! Burn!"
Hoping he didn't notice, she forced her thighs further apart, stretching her vagina. Her silent prayer fell not upon ears which most certainly were not deaf to vestal entreaties. The mouth of her tunnel of sexual lust tasted, for the first time, the scalding, pulsating helmet of a phallus, and it was better than Brenda's fingers, more thrilling even then Brenda's tongue. Her fevered hands tried to transform his head into potted meat. Her mouth, in the closest possible contact with his, was wide, flabby and abandoned to wickedness. Her two "mouths" were one. His tongue deep into her mouth and his sex about to plunge upwards into her belly were but two aspects of the same disgrace: Vive le deshonneur!
Bernie's boast to be the ideal liberator of virgins was not idle. He could be brutal, but he knew when his masculine duty lay in the direction of prudence. Generally speaking, a girl whose flower Bernie plucked, became his slave until he was frightened away by her devotion, whereupon she would lose no time in finding another man who might have been as gentle as Bernie was at first or as a brutal as he was later; and Bernie could be a beast.
With Valerie he was anything but ferocious. He nursed her into it. He fed his nourishing meat into her with all the patience of a father giving the bottle to a recalcitrant baby; and baby wanted it, yearned for it, but seemed unable to stomach it. Patience incarnate, Bernie eased himself into her, advancing an inch, retreating three-quarters, going an inch deeper, withdrawing completely prior to gliding in to a depth of two inches, of which every hairsbreadth was a mutual joy.
A second emergence, followed by a deeper invasion. After much biting of lips to stifle her agonized cries, Valerie screamed. Bernie felt her warm blood on his rejoicing phallus and realized that his cavalry-twill trousers were in danger. He sprang to his feet, turned off the light, took off his Harris tweed Hackin' jacket, his beige slacks and his underpants, rolled up his shirt and singlet and threw himself on top of wide open, bleeding, impatient, warm, soft Oh Valerie! Valerie. Oh Bernie, Bern! Valerie.
He went into her, halfway into her, and out, further and back, deeper and away, to the depths and the heights of joy. Her blood was between their bellies. It oozed over her thighs and his. Tears were in her eyes, songs in her heart, and frenzied perfection in her loins. Neither spoke.
Complete silence would have reigned but for his energetic grunts and her happy squeals and sighs.
"Forgive me, Bernie!" cried her conscience. "I love you, always have and ever will, but this is.. .this is.. .more! More, you filthy bastard! More! Tear, break, kill, annihilate, fill, explode, disintegrate, but do, do, do! Ber ... nie!"
He was as far in as he could go. He was utterly her master and she was sundered from innocence and virtue. She was in paradise and she imagined herself at the summit. Smoothly he delved into her guts, heart and throat, from above and below, his tongue and his penis worked as if one phallus. Nothing could surpass this. Nothing! Nothing!
They were rhythmic. He lunged in and lisped out. Her belly heaved. Her ass muscles knotted to jerk her groin up to him and loosened to let her sink into the bed when he thrust again. She was jelly, shivering. Nothing could be more thrilling.
She was his, then and forever; and if not his, then the toy of any and every male who might lay claim to her. She understood heaven and hell. They were and are here on earth. Hell is woman without naked man. Paradise is a woman full to overflowing of overflowing male sex.
And he filled her with sex, but not yet with brimming. The gushing was to be perfection of perfection; but not yet. Long and tender it was, up and ever up, up to joy and gladness and then on to gibbering, howling, sweating, groaning, sighing madness. She stiffened, but hung on to life, refusing to sink into death's inviting pit. His muscles hardened, hurting her belly and thighs. Her agony walled like an oriental priest calling the faithful to sing a dirge for the dead. If she had known completion, what did she know in that moment? His liquid poured into her, washing away innocence, pain and shame. Within her a too-long-tied knot unravelled itself. Her chastity melted and poured out to her liberator, whom she kissed sloppily as he continued to enjoy his mastery of her becalmed loins. After excitement came delicious pleasure. They went on loving into sleep.
Feeling empty, incomplete, Valerie opened her eyes, and foggily saw Bernie buttoning his leather-elbowed jacket. Puzzled, but proud, she pretended to sleep and allowed him to creep out of her apartment. She knew she would never again feel his weight on her belly and taste his masculinity in her femininity; and she wept bitterly in her noisome bed as Bernie, her first man, climbed the stairs to the apartment occupied by Sadie Paignton, who had satisfied her first man when Valerie was a crawling tot of humanity.
Sadie, expecting a visit from Valerie's top-drawer lady-killer, was resting in her cool, rose-odored bed, exotically perfumed, wearing an exciting nightie which was reserved for special occasions; and the dressing gown which was draped over her bedside chair was also the sort which revealed more than it concealed.
She knew that the early morning knocking on her door announced the arrival of Valerie's friend, but put herself in the mood to receive Valerie her-self. The result was that she played her role quite convincingly when she greeted Bernie.
"Well! And I thought it was Valerie come to seek refuge from her caveman!"
She opened the door as wide as possible, for no other reason than that the arm movement involved pulled her dressing gown so far open that one side scarcely overlapped the other. Thus she was almost naked from the waist upwards, and she noticed that his eyes took instant cognizance of the fact. He stepped forcefully into the room which she called her "boudoir;" it was, in fact, an attic serving as bed-sitting room, with two of its corners cut off by wooden partitions, the one for a tiny kitchen and the other for a water closet.
"Refuge? You wouldn't say that if you'd seen her just after you left. At the moment she's lying there in a contented stupor, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, breathing heavily through her nose, and her thighs wide open and besmirched with sweat and other kinds of filth."
"I'll soon have her back in shape," said Sadie, making an exaggerated movement in the direction of the door.
Bernie stepped deeper into the room and looked around possessively.
"She's all right," he said. "Just needs a little sleep!"
Pretending to be embarrassed and puzzled, Sadie stood seductively in the middle of the room waiting for him to declare the reason of his visit. He had expected a different sort of welcome and he was as nonplussed as she gave the impression of being.
"If Valerie really doesn't need my help," she asked after a long silence, "why did she send you?"
"She didn't. I came of my own accord and I doubt whether she even knows I'm no longer with her."
She shrugged her shoulders questioningly.
"To a gentleman," he said, "a promise is a promise, even if it's a tacit one. Without speaking, you and I promised each other we'd meet again. You're all dressed up for the occasion, and you see I haven't let you down."
He tried to take her in his arms but she per-formed a pirouette which not only carried her out of his reach but also undid the sash of her dressing gown, so that between her ripe, lovely body and in eyes there was nothing but a transparent, knee-length nightdress, so low cut that the real top of the bodice was just below the nipples of her breasts, which were half hidden from view by nothing more than a lacy frill about half an inch deep.
"There must "be some mistake." she said, inhaling deeply, so that her well-developed breasts grew even larger and more provocative. "I'd never dream of inviting a man, least of all a total stranger, to visit me at this hour of the night. And I certainly didn't intend to give you the impression that I hoped you'd come."
"Come now! Let's not be coy! It's written all over you. And downstairs you left no room "for doubt that I was your sort of man. You could hardly drag yourself away. If I'd dropped Valerie, I could have had you on the spot."
"In her presence?
"Yes, even in her presence."
He sat down in the settee and beckoned her to his knees. She sat in the only armchair in the room, opposite him, her thighs parted. The thin, black nylon of her nightdress clung to her belly and legs, flatteringly exposing the outlines of her well-fleshed body. She knew herself to be attractive and she did all in her power to render herself irresistible.
"As far as sex is concerned," she said, her voice low and seductive, "I can never say from one moment to another what I'm going to do-advance or retreat, defend myself or surrender. But I'm pretty sure that downstairs I was yours for the taking. The three of us might have had an unforgettable night, but you thought you could have Valerie privately, after having excited me by your disgusting exhibition, and then come up here and repeat with me what you'd done with her.. . "
"Disgusting exhibition?"
"Look, I don't know what sort of people you usually mix with, but Valerie, as far as I know, and I are normal, decent people, not above a bit of fun, even if it leads to a bit of fun in bed. We are not accustomed to come home in the evening to find men stripping women under our very noses. I bring friends home too-not often-but my friends and I are discreet. Once inside this room we have a hell of a lot of fun, as dirty as you can imagine. Ask Valerie if she's ever had cause to complain about indecency! I'll give you a bit of advice. On the rare occasions when you get a willing girl in your hands, give it to her fair and square, front and back; but don't boast about it to the neighbors and don't make her force her naked attention on them just to convince everybody that she's your slave!"
"You've been masturbating yourself. There's no other explanation. Now you're all Salavation Army and Sisters of Virtue, complaining about people making exhibitions of themselves. But when you arrived at Valerie's door, I was only undoing the buttons of her blouse. If you'd done the decent thing-gone up to your room as though you'd seen nothing-you would, in 'fact, have seen nothing shocking. Instead, you stayed on even after I'd given you the sign to leave us alone, and even then you weren't keen on going. Why the sudden change? You were as hot as hell then. You've been giving yourself some finger thrills and you've had so much of it that the whole thing disgusts you."
"What disgusts me is the man who's too sure of himself-like you. For conceit and selfishness you'd take some beating. You want Valerie and me, and both on your own terms; and when one of us looks like we might be slipping out of your grasp you get peevish and start throwing nasty accusations around. It's none of your business whether or not I play with myself, but you might as well know that except to please one of my boyfriends who-likes to see me doing it, I haven't done it since I lost my flower and that was eighteen years ago and when I was still at school. Anyway, that's a different subject. What I want you to know is this: although I've had eight or nine lovers-if you count those I had only one go with as well as those I went with for months-I've never taken part in anything resembling an orgy.. .never wanted to until this evening when you and Valerie put the idea to my head. I've never seen a man strip a woman before and I've never seen two people kiss like you did. It was filthy but it got to me. You let me hope I was going to see you get into her and you made me want to see it, although normally I'd be horrified at the thought of a girl looking in while a man debauched her neighbor. I've rarely in my life been so excited by the prospect of something and then you turned me out. I'm sure that if you'd said I could stay, Valerie wouldn't have objected, however she might have loathed the idea. She didn't like any part of my being there, I'm almost sure of that; but she was like somebody who'd taken dope and lost her willpower. She'd have done anything she thought you wanted her to do. She'd have submitted to any humiliation from me if she thought you approved. Well, you chose to send me away and now it's my turn to send you away; and I hope you'll feel as frustrated as I did."
He had not attempted to interrupt her tirade, preferring to let her purge herself of her grievance-without words from him. If that was her only reason for being cold toward him, he was sure soft words and tender caresses would restore her former interest. He rose, stood over her, overtly looking down at her full breasts. She noticed where his gale was directed, deliberately pulled in her stomach, in-haled deeply and pressed her shoulders back, forcing her lovely pectoral mounds to swell and strain against the delicate stuff of her bodice. He took her gesture as one justifying his confidence in his seductive powers.
He gently pulled her to her feet. She did not resist, even when he put his arms about her and tenderly, but greedily, stroked the curves of her back and squeezed her fleshy buttocks. When his eager lips sought hers she did not turn away her face, but surrendered to him a mouth which, al-though it refused to open, was soft and warmly encouraging.
"Why didn't you let me stay?" she asked and continued without giving him a chance to answer. "While you were slamming it into her, I could have made a fuss of you, fondling you and kissing you all over. I'd have pulled your buttocks apart and stuck my tongue into you. You'd have had almost as much pleasure back as front and when you'd reached your climax, I'd have rolled you off her belly, and licked you clean. Together, Valerie and I would have soon got you warmed up again and then you'd've had me, then her, and then me again. It would have been wonderful."
Her whispered obscenities had the desired effect, fanning the flame of his lust into a raging conflagration., "Let's go down, and let Valerie see us at it?" he suggested hoarsely "Afterwards, you can see me taking her."
His trembling hands tugged the shoulder straps of her nightdress down to her elbows, baring her thrilled and thrilling torso. He could not wait until they got to Valerie's apartment. His hands squeezed her breasts, and his teeth nibbled a nipple. He raised his right knee between her thighs until through the material of his trousers and the nylon of her nightdress he felt the warmth of her sex. His hands left her breasts and eased her dressing gown off her shoulders prior to pulling down her only remaining garment until it was an exquisite fetter. She was bare. She was his to do with as he pleased. Her body quivered in its need of him. Her naughty tongue nervously licked her negroid lips and his fingers told him her vagina was wide, warm, and wet.
Unzipping his trousers, he released his penis, at the sight of which her eyes glowed. In his arms, with the moist head of his sex against her belly, she was a weak female, who allowed herself to be lowered to the floor and pulled into a crouching, dog like position, with her knees apart and her gaping sex invitingly defenseless. On his knees behind her, he aimed his manly spear at her pink wound. She felt the knob parting the lips of her sex. He lunged forward, determined to sink himself completely into her with the first thrust; but at that moment she sprang to her feet, grabbed her dressing gown and opened the door before he could intercept her.
"Go now!" she hissed, struggling into her dressing gown. "You're about as hot as I was when you sent me out of Valerie's rooms. You can probably appreciate how I felt."
He seized her wrists, pulled her back into the room and tried to get his arms around her waist and shoulders.
"Leave me alone! I'm not playing! Get out. I mean that."
"Little fool! You want it as much as I do. Why deny yourself and me, just because I misjudged the situation downstairs? If it's orgies you want I'll arrange something more exciting then you had in mind; Come on! This little struggle will make us enjoy it even more. Look at the size of him now!"
"Go and stick it up Valerie! No amount of per-suasion will make me take it and if you don't leave at once, I'll scream. Go on! Clear out, and don't come bothering me again!"
He grabbed the lapels of her gown and pulled them apart. His strong arms encircled her naked body, and he forced a kiss upon her. Wild lights shone in his eyes. He was going to rape her. Would he strangle her afterwards? She responded passionately to his kiss, and wriggled voluptuously against his burning torch of manhood. He laughed cynically, loosened his grip on her and celebrated his fresh victory by lewdly fondling her. Her right knee shot up sharply into his genitals. With a cry of pain he stepped back a pace. Her right fist crashed into his face and her left into his stomach. She rushed to the door and opened it, simultaneously seizing-a 'shillelagh, absentmindedly left be-hind by one of her boyfriends some months previously. His arms raised to protect his head, he sprang upon her but her cudgel came down so hard on his right wrist that he dropped his guard. Slip-ping by him, she gave him a sharp push which sent him hurtling against the banister at the head of the stairs.
Trembling, she locked the door, and leaned breathlessly against the wall. She heard him begin his heavy-footed descent of the stairs and bitterly regretted her success in getting rid of him. She was kneeling on her bed before she realized that she was still carrying her former lover's stout cosh. She looked down at her perspiration-moist body and stared for a few seconds at the smoothe, shiny black head of the stick.
"I've never had a colored man." she muttered aloud. "I must find one."
She slipped the black, oaken phallus of the distant Angus into her aching, hungry vagina and made fierce love to herself until her bed sheets were sticky with the juice of her unhappy pleasure. And she went to sleep with the shillelagh sticking out of her like a long, thin, gnarled penis.
"Sadie's loss was Valerie's gain, in a manner of speaking; for Bernie, cursing his failure to gain possession of the experienced barmaid's body, went back to the girl whose loins he had used two or three hours earlier. He would make her pay for her neighbor's spurning him. He had broken Valerie in gently, but there would be no more tenderness. He would split her asunder, heap upon her every humiliation he could conceive, including a couple Sadie had mentioned. He would, he would, he would-but he did not.
Valerie's door was locked. He knocked loudly, imperiously, and heard her approaching. He declared he could hear eagerness in her steps. She would be wild with impatient longing for him and she would voluntarily throw herself into every kind of grossness to prove her enslavement to his phallus.
"Go away, and let me get some sleep!"
"Valerie, it's Bernie."
"Bernie's made his bed. He must lie in it. Bernie, it was delicious and I shall never forget you. I'll al-ways be grateful. But I wanted you again, wanted you desperately and you weren't beside me. I reached out to grab your cockerel but he was crowing elsewhere and he'll never get into my yard again. Good-night, Bernie! Love to Sadie!"
Valerie went back to bed, but between her and sleep was the ever-changing vision of Sadie, with-out a stitch of clothing, her thighs wide open, her legs in the air, joy in her eyes and a savageness in her squealing, perspiring enjoyment of Bernie's thirty inches of scarlet, blazing, endlessly gushing sex flashing in and out of her five hundred times per minute.
Bernie took his frustration back to his hotel, where until sleep took him in its tender arms, he consoled himself with daydreams of Sadie and Valerie fighting, for possession of him and allowing him to end their battle by copulating with one first and then the other, while she who was not being served by his penis tongued his scrotum and his anus.