Chapter 5

"Cut it out, Fred. I still have my period and a headache besides." Carol turned and rolled on her side away from Fred. She felt the bed shift as he rolled over to face the other way.

In the morning Fred left early, long before Carol awoke. It was almost noon when she finally opened her eyes, and she realized with a start that she had to hurry.

It was Thursday, and in the afternoon she had a rendezvous with her boyfriend. She showered and dressed quickly, then backed the car out of the garage and drove as fast as possible all the way into the city.

Driving across the bridge she glanced at her watch. She was already a few minutes late. "Let the bastard wait then," she said.

A quarter of an hour later, after parking the car and walking five blocks, she let herself into the building with her key. She waited for the elevator, but it seemed to move with incredible slowness, stopping at every floor on the way down, standing still for a minute; then, with a click, a shifting of gears and a hum, it slid down to the next lower floor, where it again stopped. Carol grew impatient, and finally, though the elevator dial showed it only two floors away, she turned away and walked up the stairs. Three flights up, she walked down the narrow corridor to the end apartment.

She had the key to this door too, but rather than use it she rang the bell, two long rings, and called out, "Ronald! Ronald, it's me!"

There was no answer from inside, no answering shout or hurrying footsteps. After another pair of rings she let herself in with the key.

Ronald's breakfast dishes were on the table where he had left them and the cat was perched on the counter asleep. Its ears twitched; it opened its eyes and saw Carol, yawned and stretched in casual acknowledgement of her arrival; then it curled up into a ball of fur and went back to sleep.

"Ronald, are you here?"

The answer was a grunt from the other side of a door leading from the kitchen. Carol walked to the door, put her ear against it, and called out again. This time she could hear him. "I'm working. I'll be finished in a few minutes." Then, "You're late."

"I know," she shouted. "The traffic was terrible. Hurry out of the darkroom."

"I'll be out when I'm finished. Put on some coffee, will you?"

Carol was about to retort that she was neither his servant nor his wife, but she reconsidered and took the coffee pot .from the stove. She emptied the old grounds and rinsed it, filled it with fresh coffee and water and put it up on the stove. By the time it was ready Ronald had opened the darkroom door and was drying his hands on a towel. Behind him the water trickled into the long flat sink with the three plastic trays, the last of which had several prints floating face up. To the right of the sink the washer spun like a miniature water wheel, and beyond that the dryer waited with the cloth covers raised. "Pour it out, Carol," Ronald said. "I just want to put some prints in the dryer and these others into the washer."

"Pour it out?" Carol repeated. "You mean into the sink?"

"No, you fool. Into cups. What did you think I meant?" Ronald turned away scowling.

Carol stuck out her tongue at his back, but then she did as he had said. When it was poured she sat at the table for a minute before getting up to see what Ronald was doing now.

He had placed the prints in the dryer and was rolling them flat. "Can I help?" she asked.

"Get your ass out of here!" Ronald said without turning around. His annoyance showed. "You know I've told you time and time again not to come in here. You're liable to wreck something."

"I just wanted to help." Carol turned to look at the prints in the tray. They were black and white, showing trees and park benches. "What are these?" she asked.

"This guy is doing a magazine article on the park. I'm taking the shots for him. That one on top shows the place where the muggers hang out -- eight muggings in the last month on that spot. Little old ladies sit on the bench and the mugger jumps out of the bushes. But, damnit, I told you to get out of here."

"I'm not hurting anything. I'm just interested in your work, that's all."

"That's a laugh. I thought you were just interested in my cock."

"There's more to you than just your cock."

"True, but I didn't know you knew that. Now get out of here, will you! I'll be finished in a minute."

Carol stuck out her middle finger at him, knowing that he couldn't see her do it. She retreated to the kitchen.

Ronald joined her shortly. He drank the coffee black and lit a cigarette.

"Where should we go for lunch?" Carol asked. "Lunch? I've eaten already. Had a couple of sandwiches an hour ago."

"But don't you remember? We were going to go out to lunch and then we were going to go shopping for my birthday present. We had it all settled the day before yesterday."

"Shit, I forgot all about that," Ronald said. "But look, Carol, I can't go out anywhere. I have to finish these prints. The guy wants them tonight."

"Well, that's a fine thing. You'd rather work on some dumb pictures of a lousy park than go out with me. And to get my birthday present, no less." She snuffled, hoping to gain his sympathy.

"Knock it off, bitch," he said, and he drank more of his coffee. Finally he said, "Okay, we'll go shop-ping. No lunch; though, we won't have time. It'll take me about an hour to dry all the prints, and then we can go."

"An hour? But I'm starved. I haven't eaten all day."

"Make yourself a sandwich. Of course, you can always eat me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would. And so would you."

"I'm going to have a sandwich."

"Suit yourself."

Carol made a ham and cheese sandwich, spreading the ham liberally with mustard, and she sat down again to eat it. Mustard squirted out onto her lips and she wiped it away with her finger, then licked it. Still chewing she said, "Aren't you even going to ask me what I've been doing with myself?"

"Playing with yourself, probably. But okay, what have you been doing?"

"Nothing much." She took another bite of the sandwich, this time avoiding losing any mustard. But crumbs fell to the table.

"What about that blackmail?" Ronald asked. "What's everybody doing, shitting in their pants?"

"Not too much. Not in public, anyway. But I can tell Fred's worried, though he doesn't talk about it much. They say they're trying to find out who's behind it, but they're so dumb it'll take them a couple of years."

"Are they going to go to the police?" he asked.

"Nah, what would they want to do that for? You know, Fred plays poker with that police chief, what's-his-name. Anyway, that guy is even dumber than Fred. And Fred's pretty dumb."

"Why do you say that? I always thought he was pretty sharp."

"Of course he's dumb. Here we've been screwing for half a year now and Fred doesn't know anything about it. You'd think he'd at least suspect something."

"Are you sure he doesn't?"

Carol stuffed the last of the sandwich in her mouth and washed it down with coffee. "Of course not. He's too dumb."

Ronald got up. "I'm going to check the prints. There's some cake in the refrigerator."

"Great. I think I'll have some."

Carol carved out a chunk of the cake and put it on a napkin. She looked toward the drawer where the forks were kept, but then sat down and ate the cake without one.

"That set's almost dry," Ronald said when he re-turned.

"Good." Carol licked the chocolate icing off her fingers. "Oh, did I tell you?" Carol said suddenly. "There's a new couple in the group. Steve and Mindy White, or something like that. They don't look too bad."

"You mean you haven't fucked the guy yet?"

"No, but I will this weekend. Maybe I'll get a crack at the girl, too. She looks like a real piece."

"Will she want to make it with you?"

"Why not? All the girls like to make it with me. All the guys, too. They know I give the best fuck of anyone."

"Have they told you that?" Ronald asked.

"No. But they don't have to. I can tell." She paused and began picking up the crumbs from the napkin. "Oh, something else, too. I saw that broad Mindy walking up to Dale Simmons' house when I was driving in. I'll bet they were going to make it."

"How do you know? They could have been just visiting."

"I know what goes on." Carol's napkin slipped to the floor and she reached down to pick it up. "For instance," she went on, "I know that your cock is hard right now."

"So? You want to do something about it?"

"Maybe yes, maybe no. You want me to?"

"I don't care. But if you were to crawl under the table and unzip my pants I wouldn't say anything."

"You men!" Carol said. "I bet you think I'm dying to get down on my knees and suck you off."

"And I'll bet that I'm right."

Carol looked at him as he stood up and adjusted his pants. She could see the bulge below his belt. He sat down again and Carol picked up the last cake crumb from the table.

Finally she said, "Okay, you win. Push away from the table. I don't want to bump my head while I'm having my second dessert."

Ronald pushed back his chair and spread apart his legs. Carol stood up and walked around the table, then sank to her knees in front of him. She put her hands on his thighs and looked up at him.

"Why do you like it so much when I do this?"

"Because I do, that's all. Why do you like it so much when I fuck you in the ass?"

Carol didn't reply, but instead began to pull down the zipper. She pulled the fly apart and peered in-side, then fished in to open the fly of his shorts. She grabbed his cock and struggled to get it out.

"Easy there, bitch," Ronald said. "What are you trying to do, break it in half?"

"I ought to. I ought to take your prick and twist it apart, the way you treat me. And if you do that again -- call me a bitch, I mean -- I will do it."

"Just try it, bitch," he said, and he cuffed the side of her head lightly.

Carol glared at him and squeezed his cock as hard as she could. He cuffed her again. "Get on with it," he said.

She looked down at his cock, hard, with the head of it swelled and purple and a drop of clear fluid forming at the tip. She swiped off the drop with her finger and licked it off.

"You really like the taste of it, don't you, bitch?"

"Oh, shut up," she retorted, and now she licked the tip of his prick with her tongue. More fluid had seeped out and she lapped it up.

She moved her hand down to his balls, still squeezing the prick hard, and she made the skin stretch tight around the shaft. Then she licked her lips to get them moist and lowered her head to the cock.

It slipped in easily. When it was inside an inch she began to run her tongue around it, inside her mouth, and she licked off another drop of the slippery liquid. She sucked in her breath and felt the rounded head of the cock swell from the suction. She kept sucking while she lifted her head.

The prick was slick and shining from her saliva. She looked at it for a moment, until Ronald said, "Come on, cunt! Keep sucking!"

Carol let the cock enter her mouth deeper this time, so that she could feel it almost into her throat. Slowly, very slowly, she raised and lowered her head, alternately sucking when the prick was sliding out and breathing when it slid back in. She established a rhythm, helped by Ronald's hand resting lightly on the back of her head, and she could now hear him breathing hard, in the same rhythm in which she was sucking.

She moved her head faster, and heard his breathing come faster in turn. Her hands were active too, both of them. One gripped the base of his cock, while the other one she had wormed into his pants and was using it to squeeze his balls gently.

His cock was getting even larger now, and it thrilled her. She thought that she could feel the blood pulsing and pounding inside it, but suddenly Ronald thrust up his hips, driving his cock in deeper, and she realized that it was not his blood that she had felt, but his come. It spurted out now, while Ronald groaned and forced her head down to engulf all of his prick, and she swallowed the warm slippery come as soon as it had jetted from the pulsing prick. It seemed to shoot out for a long time, though it was only a few seconds, and Carol struggled to keep swallowing, not wanting to let any spill on Ronald.

Then he had finished. She kept his prick inside her mouth for a minute, feeling it shrink, as if dried up, and she licked it with her tongue while still in-side her mouth to remove the last trace of come. Satisfied at last, she let his cock slip out. She looked up at Ronald to hear his thanks.

"You dirty bitch," he said. "You let a drop of it get on my pants. Look at that."

Carol looked and saw the last drop of come that had oozed out of the limp prick after she had re-leased it. The drop sat upon the pants, not yet soaked in.

"You'd better lick it up, you fucking cunt," Ronald said.

"I'm sorry, Ronnie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it." She licked up the drop carefully. She felt tears in her eyes when she looked up again.

"And it's Ronald, not Ronnie, you bitch. I ought to slap you, you good-for-nothing cunt."

"I'm sorry, Ron ... Ronald. I'll be good. Don't hit me, please."

"Okay, I won't hit you." He smiled faintly, as if trying to regain his good humor. Then he said, his voice still gruff, "Go in the bathroom and wash your face. Your tears smeared your eye make-up."

Carol rushed into the bathroom, where she cried into the damp washcloth for a minute before using it to scrub her face. The tears finally dry, she put on more mascara.

"Ronald, would you buy me that? That little ankle bracelet?"

They were standing outside a jewelers. For the last half-hour Carol had pointed out little presents for Ronald to buy her, but each time he had said no. This time, however, he seemed more interested.

"Which one?" he asked. "The one with the little hearts?"

"No, that looks too cheap. I mean the one over there, the plain gold one with the tiny little plate for the initials."

"Yes, that one looks good. But when would you wear it? Your husband would see it and then you'd be screwed."

"I wouldn't put it on when he was around, silly. I'd just wear it for you." -

"Hmm." Ronald looked thoughtful. "You wait out here a minute. I'll go in and see how much it is."

Ronald entered and Carol watched him through the window. He spoke to the jeweler for a moment, then they both went to the window case, where the jeweler extracted the ankle bracelet and held it up for Ronald to get a better look. Ronald nodded his head and then asked the jeweler something. The jeweler, a short balding man in his sixties, wearing thin-rimmed spectacles, nodded, and Ronald asked him something else. This time the old man looked agitated. He took off his spectacles and wiped them on his handkerchief, then he mopped his forehead. Carol could see them speaking back and forth, apparently arguing; finally the jeweler seemed to con-sent and both of them walked further back in the shop.

Haggling over the price, thought Carol.

She waited for Ronald to come out. Five minutes, ten minutes, almost fifteen minutes. Ronald finally walked out, the door carrying a small white box, which he held up to her and thin tucked into his pocket.

"What'd you hide it for? I want to look at it," Carol said.

"You can look at it later. It's not your birthday until next week, remember."

"But I want to see it now. And you promised you'd give me my present early."

"Okay, okay. But wait until we get back to my apartment. I'll give it to you then. Along with your other present," he added.

"Other present? You mean you got me another one?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it? But unless you're good I won't give you anything, except maybe a punch in the mouth. You'd look pretty funny sucking me off with your teeth knocked out."

"Ronald, don't talk like that. And you wouldn't dare hit me hard."

"Give me a good reason to and you'll find out if I would. Oh, I guarantee you'll find out."

"Will you give me my presents now?" Carol asked as soon as they had returned to Ronald's apartment. "I have to leave soon and get home before Fred does, remember."

"Leave? But I wanted to fuck you first."

"Well," Carol smiled, "there might be time for that. But I have my period now, you know."

"So what? There's more than one way to fuck a bitch."

"You're right. But you can't touch me until you give me my presents. Can I have them now?"

"Okay. Which one do you want first? This one ... " he pulled out the small white box, "or this one?" He opened a drawer and took out another box, just slightly larger than the first.

"I don't know," Carol pouted. "Can't I have both at once?"

"Tell you what. You pick a hand." Ronald put both boxes behind his back and switched them from hand to hand.

"That one," Carol said.

Ronald showed her the smaller box. She took it, lifted the lid, and took out the ankle bracelet.

"Oh, Ronald, it's so beautiful. And what does it say on here?" She read the engraved inscription. "To C.N. A GOOD FUCK. R.T." Her face screwed up and she almost threw the bracelet at Ronald. "Why'd you want to do that?" she cried.

Ronald laughed. "I thought it was pretty funny. And I didn't want you showing that to everybody. You won't dare to, now." He chuckled. "Besides, you should have seen the look on that guy's face when I told him what I wanted him to put on it. He nearly threw me out of the store once he'd gotten over the shock, but finally he agreed to do it. Here, put it on."

"I don't want to wear this when it has that written on it."

"Why not? You're the one who's always_ saying what a good fuck you are. I should think you'd be proud to wear it."

"But it's gross. And vulgar."

"So are you, bitch. Put it on before I smack you."

"All right.. But I wish you'd treat me better." Carol sniffled while she clasped the chain around her ankle. She turned the metal plate so that the inscription was hidden, then looked down at it.

Ronald said, "It's 18 carat gold, you know. You'd better not throw it away. I want you to wear it every time you come to see me."

"I will," Carol said sullenly. "Now give me my other present."

Ronald handed her the box. It was light, too light to be more jewelry. She opened it and spread apart the tissue inside. She pulled out the sheer red garment and held it up.

"It's a pair of panties," she said, not quite able to mask her disappointment.

"A special pair of panties, bitch. Look at the crotch."

He took them from her and showed her the slit, five inches long, running from the front of the crotch to the back. "See? You don't even have to take them off when you want to fuck. Put them on. I want to see if they fit right."

Carol seemed more interested when she saw the slit, and she quickly lifted her skirt to take off her own panties.

"Take off all your clothes first," Ronald said. "I can't get a good look when you're all covered up like that."

Scowling, Carol looked up at him, but then she began unbuttoning her blouse and skirt. She slipped out of them. She wore no bra, and it was a matter of only a few more seconds to remove her panties and put on the new pair. The slit in the crotch made her feel more naked than no panties at all, and for the first time in her life she felt embarrassed to have a man staring at her.

"Looks good, looks good," Ronald said. "Turn around, I want to see the back." She turned, and Ronald stuck his finger in the slit, probing with it the crack of her ass. "It's just right. I can fuck you from front or back. Now turn around and kiss me."

She turned and raised her arms to go around his neck. He slipped into them and pulled her close with his arms around her back. Carol parted her lips and his tongue slipped inside, while his hands descended to her buttocks, where they grabbed at her flesh and squeezed. In an instant Carol was yearning to be screwed.

His fingers played with her ass, rubbing and caressing the skin inside the crack, and now one finger touched her asshole. He pressed firmly, forcing it briefly inside, and Carol spread her legs wide to give him more room. Then his other hand was in front, wedged between their two bodies, and he sought and found her cunt. His hand stroked her hair; then he touched the string of her tampon, which dangled down below her cunt. He tugged at it lightly until Carol, fearing that he would pull it out, made him stop. He now avoided the string, but continued to caress her cunt, rubbing her clit lightly, dipping a finger between the cunt lips to get the moisture which was welling out from the interior of her pussy.

Carol removed one hand from around Ronald's neck and with it touched his prick through his pants. She could feel it hard and stiff. After unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly, she plunged her hand inside to feel what would soon be inside her. He seemed completely ready, and Carol whispered, "Fuck me now. Take off your clothes and fuck me."

Ronald pushed away and undressed quickly. In a few moments Carol was looking at his cock as it bobbed free, and then she quickly knelt on the floor in front of him, grasping his cock in both hands while she took it into her mouth and licked it all around, lubricating it for the piercing of her ass. Satisfied it was wet enough, she crawled onto the bed and lay on her stomach.

Ronald did not waste any time while climbing on top of her. One hand slipped under her body to grasp a breast, the other guided his prick. Carol felt it pressing against the puckered skin and she raised her ass to make it easier. The cock slowly slid inside, forcing apart the flesh, and soon it was sheathed in her ass.

The hand that had guided it slipped under her hips and touched her cunt, juicy and wet, and he rubbed her clit for a moment before beginning his rhythmic movement. The cock pistoned in and out of her ass, not quite slipping out with each raising stroke, but letting her feel the entire length of it surging inside her.

His hand at her tit squeezed it painfully, but she hardly noticed it; already the feelings were building in her cunt and in her ass.

"How ... does ... it ... feel ... for ... you?" she whispered, the words spoken between breaths.

"Great," he said, his mouth beside her ear.

Ronald steadily increased the speed of his thrusts, and she effectively doubled the speed by matching each thrust with a raising and lowering of her ass. Now the pleasure was becoming unbearable. His fingers still played with her clit, but not enough to suit her, so she put her own hand there and pushed his away. Rubbing the wet clit at lightening speed, her fingers brought her to the edge of coming in an instant.

With a groan Ronald began to come, and she could feel his cock pulsing and spurting. Then she could feel nothing but the almost-pain and complete pleasure that flowered in her cunt and ass, growing and growing until it exploded and coursed through-out her entire body, tingling each nerve, finally sub-siding to leave her weak and drenched in sweat. She could feel. a trickle of Ronald's come dripping from her asshole down to her cunt, where her hand rested amid the still-warm juice that had flowed from her pussy. Ronald withdrew his prick slowly, making her ass seem empty and open, and she longed for his cock or another one to fill it once more.

Ronald lay beside her and rolled her on her back. "Look at that, bitch," he said. "You let your new panties get all wet." He forced her hand to touch the damp silk. "I ought to smack you for that," he continued. "I swear, I ought to smack you one."

"Ronald, Ronald," she cried. "Why do you treat me so mean?"

"Because you want me to," he said.

Later, just before leaving, she said, "Did I tell you about the big party in a couple of weeks? The one up on Shore Drive?"

"No, you didn't. How big?"

"About a hundred couples, I think. But it's a shame you can't come. Barry Johnson said last week that he'd heard it would be impossible to crash. Guards-at the gate and all that. I wish there was some way to get you in there, just so I'd have some-one that could make me come the way you do."

"You know you'll find someone," Ronald said. "Or else you'll have a damn good time trying, any-how. But that party does seem interesting. Find out just where it'll be. Maybe I can find a way to get in."

"I'll try, but I don't know if I can."

"Now get out of here. You'll be late."

Carol glanced at her watch with a small gasp, and after a quick kiss thrown at Ronald she hurried off. The elevator was at the top floor, so she sped past it and ran down the stairs.

She glanced at her watch every few minutes during the trip home, cursing the traffic, which crawled bumper to bumper, and cursing Ronald for having kept her so late. Just before coming to her exit from the highway she remembered the ankle bracelet, and she nearly plowed into the rear of the car in front as she reached down to unclasp it. She stuffed it into her handbag, which also contained the panties she had originally worn that day. She still wore the new ones, which allowed her cunt to feel every breath of air under her skirt through the crotch slit.

Fred's car was in the driveway. She parked hers behind it and walked into the house as nonchalantly as she could manage.

"Where the hell have you been?" Fred growled. "I had to make dinner myself."

"Oh, I just went window-shopping. I forgot the time."

"Did you go by yourself?"

"Of course." She tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table.

"Sure you weren't with your boyfriend?"

Carol felt the blood drain from her face. "My boy-friend? What boyfriend?"

"That guy Ronald Turner." Fred looked toward the table, then walked to it and picked up the gold chain that had spilled out. He twisted it in his hand.

"Give me that!" Carol shouted, and she snatched it away, but not in time.

"A good fuck, eh? I suppose you bought this for yourself."

"All right. Ronald gave it to me." Carol's face was grim. "I was with him this afternoon. I sucked him off and he fucked me in the ass. And he gave me this, too. Look." She lifted her skirt, showing Fred the slitted panties. "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing," Fred said. "I haven't done anything about it for the last six months, so why should I start now? Keep on fucking with him -- I don't care. But I do wish that you'd come home in time to make dinner. You ought to know that a man's liable to get angry on an empty stomach."

"I sometimes wish that you would get angry," Carol hissed. "All you ever do is act so damned superior. It makes me sick."

"I'd get angry with you if you were were worth getting angry at," Fred said. "But you're not." He turned toward the door. "I'm-going to the chiefs to play cards. There's some dinner for you on the stove."

Fred walked out the door while Carol stared at his back, hating him.