Chapter 3
"My God, Mr. Mordaunt, I've been trying to get you over at Mrs. Eame's for the past two days!" Edward Norton's face was haggard as he looked up from his desk at the black-haired, cynically smiling man who stood before him.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Norton. I've had some business to take care of. But what's so urgent?"
Edward Norton extended a trembling hand towards the telegram, picked it up and thrust it out toward his newest and biggest investor. "Read this, Mr. Mordaunt. They're demanding cash for the stock that went through our bank. We're right in the middle. I tell you frankly, what with lending cash to the farmers around here for their cotton and tobacco and by new equipment, we're terribly short. And they won't us more than a week's a break. If I could have a month or two, I could probably get one or two of my friends in neighboring banks to tide us over, but this-" He shook his head with a groan.
"I'm afraid there isn't much I can do, Norton," Jack Mordaunt smiled. He took a cigar out of his pocket, bit off the end and lit if slowly and deliberately. "After all, I didn't force you to go into this deal, Norton."
"But you don't understand, Mr. Mordaunt," Edward Norton's voice betrayed his mounting anxiety. "I'll be ruined. I can be sent to prison. And you- you go off scot free. It's not fair. As a gentleman of honor, I appeal to you. Can't you do anything to ask these backers of yours to give me more time?"
"Not when it comes to their own money. Mine-that's another story."
"It'll mean ruin after all these years. All these years I've built this bank; it's been my life. And all I've got left is Eunice. What will she think when hen. father goes to jail for fraud? When all these fine people who have been my customers and friends for so many years point a finger at me and say. 'There goes Mr. Norton, the crooked banker.' And they'll say Eunice is the daughter of a criminal. It'll kill her, Mr. Mordaunt, just kill her. Please, Mr. Mordaunt."
Jack Mordaunt smiled enigmatically. He hadn't any quarrel with Edward Norton himself. Though his sexual tastes were slightly sadistic and deliciously complex, they concerned only the female, not the male of the species. He had won his battle and now it remained only to let Edward Norton off the hook - the hook that he had so ingeniously contrived for not the banker's daughter herself.
"I can try," he hedged, "but of course I can't promise anything."
"Oh, if you only would!"
"There's just one way, but it's a long shot."
"I'll do anything - anything within reason, Mr. Mordaunt."
Jack Mordaunt drew up a chair close to the trembling banker, his face ashen pale. He took a document out of his pocket and shoved it at the banker.
"If you agree to this, I think I can take some counter measures that will delay this demand for cash long enough to get you solvent again. I'll have to transfer some of my own funds to satisfy my associates, you understand, Norton. You realize that I don't have to do this of course."
Edward Norton nodded uttering a gasp of relief. "How can I ever thank you?"
"You needn't do it at all. There's only one thing I want."
"Name it."
"I'd like to be your son-in-law Mr. Norton. I've been thinking of settling down for a long time and Asheville is a lovely town. It's got a lot of tradition. I like you I like the people around here. I think I could have a good life for myself and a good one for your daughter too."
"You-you want to marry Eunice?" The banker's voice was quivering with astonishment.
Jack Mordaunt nodded. "I'm thirty-eight, Mr. Norton I've got a considerable fortune and I think you've seen my letters of credit. I've got a good family name, although of course it's nowhere near so fine as yours. But at least I'm bringing in fresh blood and ideas, which ought to count for something."
"I - I don't really know, Mr. Mordaunt. You see, Eunice has been sheltered. Ever since her mother's death, I've tried to -- well, bring her up like a lady. And her mother would have wanted that. She's most independent. A very brilliant girl in her schooling, you know. She doesn't take kindly to my interference - and I've never tried to dictate any romantic interest to her, even though she is twenty, an age where most girls in this region are either engaged or married."
"I think, Mr. Norton, if she realizes it means your ruin, possibly even your suicide," Jack Mordaunt said brutally, "she might reconsider. I don't ask her to leave me. Love comes after marriage, not always before. But she'll respect me. And I've more money than you do, again to put it frankly to you. I'll keep her in luxury and she'll be a fine lady, just as she is now. Well, what about it?"
"I - I wish to God I didn't have to involve her. Won't you be satisfied with my word that I'll make good, if you'll just extend the time."
Jack Mordaunt was deaf to that final plea. He shook his head. "I told you once before, Mr. Norton, it's not up to me. It's up to the boys who had this money and stock worked out by your bank. They could really take you into bankruptcy court right now, even maybe into criminal court for fraud. Think it over. I'll call on you tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. I'll have to have your answer then, because that's the last chance I'll have to contact Mr. Seymour, the head of the syndicate. Good morning to you."
Eunice Norton uttered a gasp of incredulity as she listened to her father. Sealed across the dinner table from him, exquisitely attired in a black silk dress with modest cut that completely concealed the glory of her virgin titties, her glossy black hair combed back into the thick, prim chignon which fixed against the nape of her neck, she looked sophisticatedly mature, much more than her twenty years.
"Do you mean to tell me, Father that he has the conceited notion to want to propose to me? He's a boor, his only interest is in money and besides I find him personally offensive."
"Eunice, my darling, you have to listen to me. All my life I've tried to do the thing I thought was right-to be honest, not to cheat anyone and not to involve any member of my family in a needless scandal," the elderly banker begged. "I've explained to you how these fellows have manipulated their stock transactions so as to leave the bank holding the bag, so to speak. Since I was the one who authorized the transaction, I'll be the one they'll prosecute on criminal charges. If I went to prison, Eunice, it would ruin you in this town. You know it would. They'd point a finger at you and jeer and say, "There goes the daughter of Banker Norton. She thinks she's so high and mighty and her father is a crook. I'd kill myself before I'd let that happen to you, Eunice darling."
Eunice Norton bit her exquisitely sensuous lips and was very pale. "I don't want that to happen to you either, Father," she said in a low, quivering voice. "At least he has the decency to offer marriage."
"Eunice!" her father gasped at this improper hint from his virginal daughter.
"I mean it, Father." Two delicious spots of red stained the ivory pallor of her cheeks, "He's an adventurer and I'm sure he's carrying on some sort of affair with that divorcee where he's boarding. Just to think of him looking at me makes me shudder. You don't know, Father, but once he actually dared to touch - to touch me where no gentleman should ever touch a lady. And I slapped his face."
"My poor child. I haven't even the right to ask you to try to save the family name, to save me from disgrace," Edward Norton groaned and hid his face in his hands. "But the references I've had about him slow that at least he's wealthy and well-thought-of in business affairs. And as his wife you'd have the sort of luxury you're entitled to. Otherwise, we'll both be paupers. If your poor mother were here to help counsel us both, perhaps I could be wiser than I am. But all I see is the ignominy of a prison cell and the jeering laughter of the neighbors when they see you on the street, my darling girl."
Eunice Norton closed her eyes and shivered again. Her lips tightened, then moved, as if in prayer.
"You're quite sure, Father, that if I agree to marry him, he'll see to it that you aren't held responsible and the bank won't be ruined?"
Her father nodded, his tear-grimming eyes fixing on the beautiful young woman seated across from him. Eunice Norton drew a deep breath. For a moment she closed her eyes again. Then regaining control of herself, she said calmly to her father, "When you see him tomorrow morning, tell him I will marry him. I ask only that I have an opportunity to speak with him before the wedding takes place."
At about the same time Eunice Norton had resigned herself to a sacrifice of her hand in marriage, little suspecting that Jack Mordaunt intended to enjoy far more than her hand (which he meant to train to caress his massive cock by way of prelude to many a bout of energetic fucking), that worthy cocksmith was taking his ease in Myrtle Eames's bedroom, with the door securely bolted against possible intruders.
It had been a most enjoyable and profitable day. He had phoned his friend Seymour to advise him that he had another twenty-four hours before the proposition went through as planned and then Edward Norton would probably take himself off the hook.
"I'm not even going to be greedy, Seymour old boy," he had told the syndicate chief. "I'll settle for ten thousand dollars. It will pay for a nice honeymoon in Mexico."
"You mean you're going to settle down and marry one piece of pussy, instead of dipping your, wick in every hole you come upon?" Seymour had chuckled across the long-distance wire.
"I can assure you that marriage isn't going to cramp my style one little bit. If anything, marriage is going to be very educational. Well, you'll be hearing from me tomorrow, I'm pretty sure. You know our plans. And we'll go ahead with it just as we planned. Well, see you! Oh, when you send the check for ten grand, you might have the thoughtfulness to pick out a nice little present for my bride-to-be. Something useful. She's, slim, snooty and brunette."
"How about a hairbrush? You can use it on her backside as well as on her hair, just by changing sides," the syndicate chief had laughed as he hung up.
So Jack Mordaunt was in great good humor and full of anticipation. He knew the pride of these distinguished old Southern families only too well. And Edward Norton would certainly induce, by the most powerful arguments at his disposal, his disdainful daughter to take the only step possible to save her father from financial and personal ruin.
He reclined in a low armchair, totally naked, his big prick thrust up between his hairy, sinewy thighs and his eyes sparkled. With good reason, because big, buxom Myrtle Eames was just stooping to pull off her last stocking and be completely naked for him. The big juicy cantaloupes of her titties dangled like ripe fruits from the vine, ready for plucking. His mouth watered slightly. He was seeing in his mind's eye once again, Eunice on their wedding night. How would he go about taking her maidenhead? Not the ordinary way, that's for sure. She had slapped him and rebuffed him. Well, he was going to return the favor in spades. He was going to put Eunice Norton through the most arduous honeymoon any bride ever had. They would go to Mexico, spend a week in Mexico City seeing the nightlife and then on to his little hacienda about seventy-five miles to the southwest. That was something that even Edward Norton hadn't been able to find out about in the dossier the banker had had compiled as soon as the financial deal had been proposed to his bank. They would round out the honeymoon in an extraordinary way, with the scornful daughter of this sanctimonious old banker.
"You know, Myrtle baby," he chuckled, watching her turn to face him, his eyes laving the rippled goblets of her swollen titties, the rich, dimpled belly, the thick, dark-blonde curls which framed her plump pussy, "we really ought to have champagne tonight. It's sort of a stag party. You don't know it yet, but I'm going to be married pretty soon."
"Married, darling? To whom? I wish it were to me," Myrtle said simply, pulling herself close to him, her hands running down his thighs in a nervous gesture because she was itching to be fucked.
"Don't you worry, Myrtle. You'll find a husband damn soon. In fact, when I have to leave you on my honeymoon, if you're still itching, I've got a friend back in Chicago who just kicked his wife out because she was two-timing him. I think you'd do very nicely for him. His name's Ed Fisher and he's rich. He's about forty and almost as good in bed as I am. What do you say?"
Myrtle Eames blushed furiously and lowered her eyes. "You - you're just awful," she countered. "It sounds as if you're trying to peddle me off on just anybody."
He shook his head and patted his lap. "Sit down and do some work to earn your keep around here, baby," he invited her. "I give you my word that Ed can meet your needs almost as well as I do. You know perfectly well, Myrtle, that when winter comes, you're going to be awfully cold in bed alone when I'm not here to service you. Why, Ed's prick is almost as long as mine. And I'll give you another little hint about him: he's something of a pearldiver-he likes to suck pussy before he fucks. That should recommend him to you."
"Oooohhhh!" Myrtle Eames uttered a shocked gasp. She got astride his thighs and arched herself toward his jutting ramrod. He reached up his hand to play with her titties, to tweak the nipples that stiffened and darkened under his fingers.
"Go ahead," he urged. "You know what to do next. If you want things in this world, Myrtle baby, you've got to reach out and take them for yourself. That's my motto."
"You're just too awful for words, "Jack Mordaunt," Myrtle gasped, as she tremulously reached out her soft little hand to grasp his cock while with the thumb and index finger of the other hand she yawned her pussylips still more to receive his offering. Then, with an anticipatory little moan of bliss, she sank slowly down and impaled herself, her head falling back, her eyes closed, her head tilted in an agony of ecstasy as she felt his tool, rasping and hot, against the quaking walls of her fiery cunthole. "Aaaaah, Oooooh, how good it feels doing it this way, Jack darling. It's going to pierce on through me and come out of my bottom, I just know it is - Oooooh, Jack, Oh, Jack, it's so thrilling."
"Now ride me, baby and be careful not to let it slip out of that sweet snatch of yours, or Papa will spank," he whispered hoarsely, his fingers still kneading and rubbing her big titties. And as Myrtle Eames hastened to obey, rising up and then lowering to impale herself, her breath quickening and her burning cunthole drew her closer and closer to hot gismic come, Jack Mordaunt closed his eyes and imagined that it was Eunice Norton who, naked as the day she was born, bestrode his thighs and herself did all the fucking while he sat back and enjoyed her wriggling twists and jerks and perorations, feeling his cock drive into that patrician groove which he knew no other man's organ had ever probed.