Chapter 6
While driving on the freeway away from Downtown Los Angeles, June was aware that a constant smile remained on her face. She kept thinking of Donald and what a marvelous service they had both performed for each other. It made her feel good to think she'd given badly-needed sex to a young man who had been lonely and in such desperate need for a female body.
Instead of turning off and heading back for home, she decided to do what she should have done in the first place. Strange that the simplest answer to the location of The Caves had eluded her. June, sugar, she thought, if you want to find out where The Caves are in Santa Monica, then why not go to Santa Monica?
It was downright astonishing that the simplest answer to problems always seemed to elude her! Half an hour later she parked on the street in front of an X-rated movie house, put money in the parking meter and strolled over to the ticket window.
"Do you know where there is a club in Santa Monica called The Cavest" she asked.
The young man scrunched up his face, walrus-like, and said: "The what'st"
"The Caves," June said, winking, raising her eyebrows up and down suggestively. "It's a-well, frankly, it's kind of a fuck club."
The lad's eyes opened owlishly and he looked horrified. "I'm sorry lady-I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. Are you a cop?"
June laughed, shook her head and began strolling down the street. She found it surprising that a ticket-taker at a "fuck-and-suck" movie house would display embarrassment (or whatever it had been) at such a natural question. Just ahead, one spotted a very run-down looking bar. It said on a big sign: WE OPEN AT 6:00 A.M. FOR SICK CALL. It occurred to her that someone there might know about The Caves.
She took the first stool she came to and ordered a martini from the wheezing, overweight bartender. When he set the drink in front of her, she asked him about The Caves.
"Beats the shit out of me, lady," he said. "I ain't never heard of no 'Caves.'" He turned and called to the row of sagging-faced patrons. "Anybody here ever hear of a joint called The Caves!"
There were lots of shrugs, and then one very desperate man, very stooped and thin with a red-veined face came and sat down next to her.
"Buy me a drink and I'll tell you about The Caves," he said.
She agreed, called the bartender, then watched the pathetic man drink his straight shot of bourbon with trembling hands. He sighed, relief washing over his dissipated features and said: "It's over in Venice-on the Coast Highway near Synanon."
She told him she'd heard it had been moved to Santa Monica.
"Oh, that's right," he said. "I did hear something about that." He shrugged. "Don't know where it is then. But why you looking for a place like that? I mean, a fine lady like you shouldn't have to go lookin' for that kind of-uh-action."
"I'm inquiring for a friend," June lied.
"Oh," he said, staring at his empty shot glass. He coughed.
June bought him another drink and then left her drink half-full and returned to her car. In Venice she kept getting the same answer. There had been a place called The Caves in Venice-right near Synanon, just as the man in the bar had said-but it had been moved somewhere. Too much heat from the cops, seemed to be the explanation.
It was beginning to get dark. Discouraged, June drove on home and took a nap until Norm arrived home. He roused her from where she had been sleeping on the living room couch and then bored her with the details of his very busy day at the Equipment Rental location. She fixed dinner, they watched TV for a while, and then later in the bedroom as he ate her cunt she decided that she would have to manipulate Gene Lewis, apparently, if she ever expected to visit The Caves. She disliked having to connive and scheme and use her body as bait in order to get the information she wanted, but she saw no other way.
Husband Norm was snorting as he lapped at her pussy and she gave his hair a slight tug, to simulate passion, and let out a false cry of joy to keep him interested. The truth was, she was a trifle sensitive down there and, also, she wished it were young Donald eating her. It bothered her to think of Donald all alone in that foul room downtown. Still, Norm was her husband; she loved him and usually liked sex with him. But at the moment she was all sexed-out.
"Oh, yeah," she said, trying for conviction. "Do it to me, daddy."
He didn't seem to notice the lack of sincerity in her voice and for this she was glad. He went on eating her cunt with gusto. She guessed that she could come, once she put her mind to it, but she knew he liked to lick for a long time before she went off. Trouble was, then he would probably want some head himself. Either that or he'd want to fuck. Well, she thought, maybe she could bear up under a little "doggie-style"-at least long enough for him to get his nuts off.
Once again, her thoughts turned to Gene Lewis, and she decided that if he didn't call her again within two days she would have to drop by his store. Still, it would involve deception and this went against the grain.
June was feeling a bit guilty at thinking of Gene Lewis while getting eaten by her husband, so she said, "Honey, come on up here and let me suck you, huh?"
He was so busy he didn't hear her. She gave his hair a pull and repeated the question and then he was sitting astride her chest with his hard-on at her mouth.
Oddly, once his prick was in sucking position, true desire came over her. She nursed on the nice yummy hard-on with genuine enthusiasm and when he seemed slow to fire his load she gave his balls an extra-hard massage. That always did the trick.
"Ahhhh!" he sighed, and then she was swallowing gooey male sperm once again. It had been a day for sperm-gulping all right, she thought.
What the hell, she thought. It's not as though swallowing the stuff was going to make her break out in a rash or anything. And, besides, she liked the taste of it When he had rested for a few minutes, Norm attempted to make her come with his finger, but she told him it was all right. "I already came," she lied.
This seemed to satisfy him and he just lay back, staring up at the ceiling.
"Pretty soon we'll find a nice place where the sex flows like wine," she said absently. "Aren't you looking forward to more of what we had with Gene and Mandy?"
"Yeah, that was a-a mind-blower all right," he said. "I-I didn't think I'd ever dig it, but it was one of your better turn-ons. Yep, one of your truly good turn-ons. When?"
"Soon," June said. "Mandy's checking into it for us," she lied. "The four of us are going to find out what it's all about. We're going find out why all those Romans got hooked on orgies. Say, wouldn't you love to go back-just for one day-and experience a genuine Roman orgy?"
There was no answer. Norm had drifted off to sleep. June turned off the very low-watt bulb at the bedside nightstand, then quietly masturbated, thinking of Donald. She shuddered as her orgasm tingled throughout her body; then she fell quickly off to sleep.
The following morning, just half an hour after Norm had left for work, Gene Lewis called. This time June kept her voice enticing, alluring. Would she meet him for an afternoon session at The Aqua-Sex motel at 2:00?
"The Aqua-Sex Motel?" she repeated. "Jesus, that's pretty brazen, isn't it?" She chuckled. "The Aqua-Sex motel. What do they do there-screw in the swimming pool?"
"No, aqua-sex just means the place is full of water-beds." His voice dropped. "Ever made it on a water bed?"
"No, I haven't," she said, the idea suddenly intriguing her.
"Slosh ... slosh ... Ahhhhh!" Norm said, then giggled. "We're gonna love it They even show fuck movies in the rooms."
"All right," June agreed, then wrote down the address and directions to the place. "See you at two." And she hung up.
June spent the rest of the morning tidying up the house. Then she fixed herself a tuna sandwich and read for a while. But her thoughts kept returning to Gene and what she would do and say in order to learn the whereabouts of The Caves. This was to be no mere meeting just to have a few orgasms. Huh-uh. Mission Caves was her sole purpose for this clandestine meeting. True, the idea of making it on a water bed and watching "fuck movies" at the same time intrigued her, but she resolved not to lose sight of her primary purpose in meeting Gene at the Aqua-Sex Motel.
Finally, at 1:30 she left the house and drove south to Ventura boulevard. She turned left, proceeded for perhaps four miles and swung into the parking lot of the Aqua-Sex Motel. She kept her dark glasses on, grateful that they served as a kind of mask. She didn't want anyone she knew to see her in the parking lot of a motel with such an erotic sign. She grimaced as she gazed up at the sign: AQUA-SEX MOTEL. God, she wished Gene would hurry up and get here. She glanced at her watch. It was 2:05. Where was he? Didn't the son-of-a-bitch realize that she was the female-that she was accommodating him and his sexual need? Well, in all honesty she had to admit that this wasn't entirely the truth. No, she was using King Male this day, and not the other way around. Still, she was annoyed at his not being prompt. When a man wants to fuck you, she thought, the least he can do is be on time!
She turned on the car radio as she sat there in the dinky parking lot of the Aqua-Sex Motel. She listened to the classical music station, Stravinsky, and once again she thought of Donald in that shabby room. She wished she were meeting him and not Gene Lewis here. Well, those were the breaks, she thought. A long time ago, she had married Norm Horvath and he was not a bad guy and you couldn't change commitments like that. She was married and that was it. Donald would just have to jerk off until he found the kind of woman he needed to keep and inspire him to whatever it was he wanted. A composer ... hmm? she thought, listening to Stravinksy's Firebird Suite on the radio. Yesterday, I fucked a composer....
She tapped her elegantly-manicured fingernails, lacquered a quiet frosted-pink, in time to the music and, once again, the feeling that excitement was going on all over the world for all sorts of exciting people engulfed her. And somehow she was missing out. Take the AquaSex motel, for instance. Everyday people came here and fucked and sucked on water beds and watched dirty movies. And what was she doing? Cleaning house or maybe reading Cosmopolitan or some silly escapist novel about something that had very little to do with life as it's lived out there. This disturbed her, for all over the world there were thousands of places like the Aqua-Sex Motel (and better!) and people were drinking fully of life, experiencing new and exciting things. Yes, the Aqua-Sex Motel had probably been here for a long time and only today was she paying it a visit.
June resolved to fill herself with more Aqua-Sex Motels, or better yet The Caves. Life is too short, she thought. You got to get it on before you're bent and old and dried up and haggard and nobody wants to invite you to freaky motels anymore.
There was the faintest of horn bleeps to her right. Glancing over, she saw that Gene Lewis had swung into the vacant parking spot beside her. He winked lasciviously, got out and came over and bent down to talk to her through the car window.
He kissed her cheek. 'I'll go get us a room, baby. Don't go away. Be right back."
She watched him strut arrogantly-a truly cocky strut-to the little doorway and go inside. In a few minutes he came out carrying a key. He opened the car door for her and then they went to a downstairs room-number 312 it read on the pale blue door.
They went in. It was a fairly nice room-the water-bed in the center facing a TV on the wall rack. The carpet was unworn and every thing was shiny and clean. Not at all what she had expected. Not a cigarette burn or hole in any of the furniture.
Gene quickly undressed, tossing his clothes in a heap on a big chair by the dresser. He was in a playful mood. He gave his half-hard-on a whack with his hand so that it wagged back and forth, and then he threw himself on the water bed and lay, waiting, with his hands clasped behind his neck.
"Come and get it, baby," he said, slowly playing with his rising manhood. "What you waiting for? Come on, we don't have much time. I gotta get back to work. Get outta those clothes and let daddy get at that scrumptious pee-pee of yours."
June began unbuttoning her shirt. She grimaced, blinking. "Pee-pee?" she repeated.
"Yeah, that's what we called them when I was a Md. Pee-pees. You know, private parts. A pee-pee is a private part." He giggled, still playing with his pee-pee.
June had to laugh. "Funny, we always called them penises and vaginas-or cunts and cocks. Sometimes 'gash' and/or 'prick.'"
"Well, to each his own. Come on, June. I'm horny as hell. Hey, put on a little show for me while you're undressing, okay?"
"I hope you don't call breasts bee-bees." She laughed, feeling silly, and then she remembered the true purpose of her mission and it became clear to her what she had to do.
"Bee-bees?" he said, fixing his eyes hard on her ample breasts. "Nope, baby. Nobody would ever call those tits of yours bee-bees. Those tits are bazooms!"
"That's very kind of you," June said. In a moment, she was naked, except for her white near-transparent, bikini panties. She did a little "go-go" girl type dance for him then, a caricature really, until she began to feel silly, and then she went over and sat down beside him on the water-bed. She had never sat on a water-bed before and the rolling motion beneath her was delightful.
"This is really delightful," she said. "So this is a water-bed. Lots of fun...."
Gene reached out for her breasts, but she backed away, out of his reach, bending back. The water-bed beneath her buttocks created the illusion of an earthquake. The whole room seemed to rock.
"Hey, what'sa matter?" Gene asked, frowning. "Come on and cuddle up. Let me eat that sweet meat between your legs and stick 'big daddy' in all those juicy spots of yours. Come on, baby, let's fuck and suck."
June took a deep breath, then reached out and gently tickled Gene's stiff and dribbling prick. "There is the matter of The Caves" she said evenly, her face expressionless. "Where are they?"
Gene bunched up his face, then ran his palm over his face. "Oh, Jesus, we're not gonna start talking about that again, are we? Christ, these fucking Caves have become an obsession with you. I already told you. I don't want to share you with anybody. I don't wanna share you and I don't wanna share Mandy. Me, I dig one-on-one. Believe me, it's best. I tried it both ways and one-on-one is best. Come here...."
Smiling, June slowly shook her head. She made sure that her breasts jiggled at the same time. She also began working her hand up and down Gene's hard shaft and arched her back and pursed her lips. "No," she said. "Not until you tell me where The Caves are."
"Let's cut the bullshit, Junie. God, that feels good. Umm, come here and ride my prick, or suck it, or let me suck your tits. Let's do something quick."
Still smiling, June said, "Gene, I'm not kidding. Tell me about The Caves, or we don't play, okay?"
He started to grow angry, but then he forced a trembling smile. "Junie, you sure do have one helluva sense of humor. I mean I've already paid for this room, which ain't cheap and-" He broke off, an idea suddenly striking him. He got up and went over and turned on the TV set. In a moment, the picture flashed on and a couple doing a very slurpy "69" appeared. Gene walked back to the water-bed, his erect prick standing out in front of him. Leering, he stopped in front of June, so that his rod was level with her mouth.
"Look at what's going on up on that screen, Junie. Nice, huh? Go ahead and suck it."
June gazed nonchalantly at the sucking couple and shrugged her shoulders, ignoring the hard prick just inches from her lips. "Sorry," she said. "It's all very nice, and I wouldn't mind taking your very yummy prick right down my gullet and up my cunt and ass, but as I said I won't play unless you tell me where The Caves are."
Gene was breathing very hard now, his face contorted in what had to be anger and frustration. "Goddamit, June," he said, "cut it out now, you hear? This is no time to get coy." He glanced up at the couple sucking on the screen.
The young stud had his finger up the young beauty's asshole as he gulped greedily at her cunt.
"Hey, lookie, June," he said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. "Nice, huh? Let me do that to you. I wanna eat up your pussy until you're screaming hysterically." He took her hand and tried to pull her onto the water-bed. She resisted.
"JUNE! GODDAMIT, COME HERE AND FUCK!" he screamed.
She shook her head, and she saw that his prick was beginning to descend. Anger had displaced lust in his male brain. He stared in horror at his prick and cried, "See what you're doing with all this 'Caves' bullshit. See? See? I hope you're happy."
"We both know that it only takes a minute to get it back up, Gene, so cut the bullshit yourself. Tell me where The Caves are or I split. Right now. I mean it."
"I've never seen such an obstinate bitch!" Gene said, playing with himself in an effort to get his prick hard again. "I mean, what you're doing is unthinkable. It-It's blackmail!"
"That's right," June said. "It is. Well?"
He was shuddering all over, whether with anger or lust, June did not know. And she didn't care.
"All right," he said, finally, staring at his prick which was totally soft now. "OK, you win. Let's fuck and then I'll tell you where the joint is." He reached out for her but she went over and began putting on her shirt.
"June!" he yelled. "Hey, come here." He gestured at the TV screen and bounced up and down on the water-bed. "June, you can't do this. You can't!"
Her shirt was on and she was getting into her denims. "I'm doing it, Gene. I'm doing it."
"I said I'd tell you after we both come a few times."
June was sitting now, slipping into her sandals. She shook her head then and stood up, fully-dressed. "No 'Caves', no cunt, Gene. I meant what I said. Well?" She was standing at the door now.
"No, goddamit!" he screamed. "You're not going to push me around. I'm not the pussy-whipping type. I'm not going to tell you anything I don't want to tell you. You're coming here right now and you're going to suck my prick. Look at it! It-It's all soft!"
He looked as if he was going to cry as he worked his fist on it furiously, desperately trying to get it hard again.
"Bye-bye, lover," June said, almost laughing as she opened the door. She shut the door firmly behind her, Gene's yelling loud from within, and she quickly went to her car, started it up, backed up and drove off.
As she drove down Ventura boulevard, she played the radio loud. There was a vague uneasiness in her chest. No, it wasn't horniness; it was a terrible empathy for poor Gene, all alone with his "soft-on" back there in the room with the fuck-suck TV and the water bed. The truth was, she had never in her life been a "tease." Not ever. And leaving a male in such total sexual frustration went very much against the grain. But sometimes a girl has to stand firm, she told herself. And this had been one of those times. Really. Gene had been playing games with her brain and body, and so she felt justified in walking out on him. Or did she? She wasn't sure. Somehow she felt very guilty and strange inside. She turned the radio up higher, and of all things the classical music station was playing Mozart.
Briefly, she toyed with the idea of returning to that downtown hotel and fucking that young composer again. She rejected the idea at once, however, and drove faster until she had reached home. There, she filled the tub with very hot water, slid inside and masturbated with her favorite washcloth.
Not full atonement, really, she told herself after she had climaxed. But at least I thought of fucking you, Gene, on that water-bed as I was coming....