Chapter 10
Perry was put out a little, but he understood at the same time that he did not understand. He knew he could run from the problem by just refusing to go to the gig, by saying he had a headache that suddenly had arrived without warning.
Why was Marty so afraid of black women? In Vietnam he had fucked the Orientals, and they were a different race from his own. Was skin color that important? Perry remembered the time Marty had told him about a fuck in a hut in the jungles.
He had been walking, lost from the others in a patrol after they had been scattered by heavy enemy fire. Half the night lay behind him, and there was no hope he could ever zero in on his own company except by sheer luck. Then he saw it, a hut, one that should not have been there, but was, and his hopes rose.
He entered. A lone woman stood inside the confined area, fully dressed, looking at him with little emotion as she saw him enter her home. He judged her to be about thirty-five, but it was hard for him to tell with the Orientals. She spoke halting English, and she offered him a place to stay for the night.
As he lay on the floor, too tired to think of anything but the sleep he needed, he realized that she had blown the candle out, enveloping him with darkness. A minute later he felt naked human flesh next to his own, female flesh with a cunt hot for the feel of his cock inside its passages.
As she rubbed against him he felt his pole getting harder and harder, felt the tenderness of her caresses driving him to a point where he could think of nothing but the sheer joy he would receive from having his pole inside her walls, stroking her with his masculine tool while both of them enjoyed the delights of their fucking.
Inside of a few minutes his cock was like solid iron, heaped out from his crotch and hungering greedily for the time when he could feel her cunt open to him, ready for the plunge that would change his world from ordinary to-fantastically incredible.
His kisses took her into him, pulled her face against his own and thrilled him with the deliciousness of their affection. He wanted to screw her for the rest of his life. It was not every woman who so readily gave a man what he needed, nor had she asked him for any money. This fuck was a fuck she would give him because she liked him in some way or another.
His balls felt the frailness of her fingertips caressing their sac's wrinkled skin. The utter joy that gave to him burned with a fire inside his body. There was nothing he liked better than that except fucking itself, which he would be doing in a very short time.
He ran a pair of fingers into her cunt, soothing her with his touches to the walls that were soft and pliable. His hands slid easily against her passages, for her oils flowed so well she was lubricated down to her bush. She fingered his balls again and again. Her touches to all parts of his naked body gave him excruciating pleasure, and he could have borne her delights for as long as she wanted to give them to him. His lust knew no bounds, knew no reason not to fuck her until his ball juice was completely drained from his system.
The lust he felt for her made him work hard at her cunt, massaging her clit to make her more ready to receive his affections, especially the affection he wanted to give to her cunt. His cock was so swollen with gorging blood that he hurt there.
Her fingers at his crotch found new places to touch, new areas to massage, and her attentions to him made him feel damn good. If he could only have had her in peacetime, things might have been so much different. There were a lot of things about war which were ugly, and the inability to get a fuck when you wanted one was one of the worst things.
His cock could wait no longer when she got him to a certain stage, and she spread her legs wide to open her femaleness to his penetration. His pole zoomed in on her tunnel of love as fast as it would go. He mashed into her tight pussy, thrilling himself with the touches and caresses he felt from her walls.
The number of times he plunged into her pussy was lost to him, but he knew it was a lot of times. There was nothing like a good cunt to make him feel delightful. His cock burned with the pleasure her cunt gave to it.
The wild feelings that rambled through his naked flesh were all that he could bear. This was something fantastic, something to write home about if he had dared, and he loved to write home. His hunger for her cunt drove him to blast jolt after succulent jolt of his love into her cunt. She squealed with pleasure at each thrust he gave to her, obviously satisfied that he was doing a good job.
At the same time they came, creaming their juices into the same channel mixing them one with the other as they let their nude bodies writhe in the delights which their sex gave to them. Again and again he felt her lithe body writhing into his, and when he was done spurting, he rested by her.
As much as he wanted to fuck again his weariness made him sleep instead. He woke to find the hut empty, and his own company not too far away. In the night, he must have made a big circle.
Perry could not forget how Marty had raved about Oriental cunt, and now he was frightened about having home-grown, American black girls at his side. Perry assured Marty that most of the people there would be white. Marty took the news sheepishly, but Perry could tell he was happier.
Margaret answered the buzzer when he rang. She was introduced to the new man, and she led him to Al's apartment, talking to them as they followed her.
Margaret turned to look at the mat beside Al's door. There were two pairs of shoes on it. One pair was good-looking, heavy-heeled, a woman's shoes; the other, dirty white sneakers.
"It looks as if there are people in there, but I suppose they're too busy to answer door bells."
Perry felt his face grow hot. The shoes were the plainest calling card he had ever seen. Vicky and Joe! Son of a bitch! The frustration welled up and over him, and he knew part of his reaction was plain on his face.
"Why don't you two come into my apartment till Al gets back. Maryann and Jamie are here, and they never really got a chance to talk to you last week. Come on, Marty, we were just breaking out a six-pack of beer."
Marty brightened up enormously, and was soon the center of the conversation.
Perry i felt very tired. He sat back in one of the deep, upholstered chairs and let most of the talk flow around him. His mind kept picturing the apartment across the hall, sneaking into the white room like a silent intruder, and finding it starkly empty-then, crossing silently to the door on the sidej wall, pulling it open ever so slowly and quietly, to step into the black space beyond. By some trick of his eyes or the lighting, his thoughts were able to pierce the darkness, and search out the two nude figures in the center, watching their slow, passionate embraces, their sensuous arousal of each other, their searchings with hands and mouths, and the variety of their insertions into each other's secret places.
Why should he care? If it had not been for the call from her mother, Vicky and he would have experienced that same intertwining, or more. Her being with Joe, or any other man, was not a rejection of him. She wanted him, or at least she had at one particular moment. It was only her weakness and her self-delusions which had kept them from completing the union. She could have made any number of excuses for her mother not to come to the apartment. She seemed only to want to tempt him, to make sure he wanted her, and then to leave him hanging.
Why the hell did they have to leave their shoes outside the door?! Just to let everyone know they were in there screwing the hell out of each other? Sex should be private. Two people alone with each other, exploring each other.
He damn well should have stayed with Cora this evening. He could feel his need awakening again. Even another session under Margaret's hands would help to soothe him. Only, this time, he wouldn't lie there passively. He would reach out and move his hands over her body in equal response; touching out the person who lay just beneath her flesh.
Marty laughed loudly at something, and Perry was jolted back to the room. He shifted uncomfortably in the deep chair. His damned dick was hard again, caught against a fold of his undershorts. What was the matter with him? He was becoming a real sex maniac. He'd had no less than three fabulous orgasms a day since last Sunday, and he was as panting for another as a sixteen-year-old on the brink of his first piece of ass.
Someone shouting loudly in the hallway drew the attention of all of them. Jamie jumped up and opened the apartment door to see what was happening.
"Open that damn door, you pale blonde bitch!" the voice was screaming. "I'm going to put black-and-blue marks all over you!"
Perry and the others had started toward the door, but even before Jamie spoke, Perry knew who was making all the noise.
"What's the matter, Olivia?" Jamie said concernedly. "What are you yelling about?"
"I'm yelling about that sneaky blonde cunt in there with my boyfriend." She turned to the door again. "Joe, you better get this door unlocked fast if you know what's good for you and that white whore!"
Maryann had pushed her way past Jamie. "Come on, Olivia, stop the shouting and cursing. It's not going to do you any good, and it can only cause trouble."
Olivia pushed out at the girl viciously. "I'll show you what trouble really is. They can't stay in there permanently. And, damn it, I'll be right here when that door opens!"
Jamie moved out into the hall, to stand protectively beside Maryann.
"You're making a big scene over nothing," he said. "Joe is no more your boyfriend than any other guy you've brought up here. I didn't think jealousy was your bag, Olivia. Besides, since when has anyone in Al's pad ever had to take a pledge of fidelity? Now, come on in to our place, and simmer down. Al will be here soon."
"Fuck Al, and fuck you, too!" Olivia shouted. "I'm going to stay right here until that door opens, and I'm going to keep right on yelling at the top of my damn lungs! Do you hear that, Vicky-bitch? Do you hear me, Joe-cock?"
"I hear you, nigger."
Perry almost didn't realize he was going to say it, until the words were out of his mouth-deathly quiet words that stabbed across the hall right into her.
He could see the dumbfounded shock on her face, even before she turned to stand with her back against the door. The tears welling up in her eyes were clearly visible. She looked totally lost and helpless, but for the first time, he could see, undistorted, the prettiness she hid behind the dual mask of cosmetics and superior attitude.
Maryann was at Olivia's side instantly, one arm around her in support and protection. She guided her friend across the hall, past the others, and into the apartment. When she had Olivia seated on one of the couches, she turned to shoo the others out into the hall with insistent waves of her hand.
The four of them stood silently.
With all of their comradeship and love, Perry thought, they have no idea how to deal with any form of violence. Maybe I have something to teach them, while they teach me.