Chapter 2

Clara Crukshank had finished one number and was midway through the second when the voice boomed from the back of the room.

"Hold it... hold it!"

The musicians stopped instantly. Clara shielded her eyes from the bright lights with an upraised hand. She peered into the darkness, trying to put a face to the voice.

The voice boomed again. "What was your name again?"

"Clara," she said. "Clara S. Crukshank."

"What's the 'S' for?... Shit?"

"Sabrina."

"Jesus!" said the voice. "Oakie?"

"Yeah, boss," the drummer replied from behind her.

"Where'd you get that shit?"

"Hers."

"They're my own arrangements," Clara said somewhat defiantly.

"They're shit. That's country. You're not a country singer."

"I have always been a country singer," Clara said.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"That's not a very long always, kid."

"I'm country."

"Where're you from?"

"Montreal."

"Canada?"

The voice bubbled with laughter. "I believe that's where Montreal has been located for quite some time."

"Shit." The voice got serious again. "Oakie?"

"Boss?"

"Get up there. You, Sabrina, sit down and listen to him do the same number. He's from Muskogee and he's a pro at it. But he does it on his own Goddamn time."

Clara's face flushed a bright pink. She had a violent urge to tell the voice to take a fuck at the moon, but she found a chair and sat down.

The tall man with the long blonde hair and the sad eyes unwound his string bean frame from behind the drums and moved to the microphone.

A low, down-home, back-country wail erupted from his throat. He slurred in and out of phrases without really singing them.

Yet, in his soft baritone, with its ambling, twanging quality, he lulled his audience.

He finished, he replaced the mike, then slid back behind the drums.

Clara sat, biting her lip, staring at him wondering if she had written that. "Now that," said the voice, "is country."

Clara stepped back on the stage. "What do you want to hear?"

"Do you know 'Sliding'?"

"Yes."

The band started behind her. She sang the song the way it was supposed to be sung.

In the darkness, Nick nodded to himself. He'd found another one. She was so good she didn't even know. Did she have anything under that fucking tent she had wrapped around her. What did her face look like under that mop of hair? With that voice, good arrangements, and a little style, it probably wouldn't matter.

But, Jesus country? And Clara?

She was barely half finished with the number when Nick walked out of the room and back to his office.

The room seemed to echo with her beautiful voice as she replaced the mike and again shielded her eyes. She waited a few seconds.

"Well?"

Silence.

"Son-of-a-bitch," she hissed, then picked up her guitar.

"Where ya' goin'?" Oakie asked.

"Back to the alley," she answered. "It might not be, but it's beans."

"I wouldn't... not just yet."

"Why not?"

"Cause I think ya' got a winner."

"Well?" Gertie said, when Nick walked in.

"She's good... better than most, maybe the best," he said, taking a sip of the Scotch.

"Wow."

"Huh?"

"Just... wow. You say that... just like it's a second coming."

"Oh... yeah." He smiled and reached out, squeezing her braless nipple through her sweater. It was a game he played, betting himself he could get some kind of a rise out of her. He never did.

"You're dead," he said.

"You know better," she replied, then she reached between his legs. She found his cock and squeezed it. It started to rise immediately. "Pussy power," she said, "much more potent."

"Jesus, I hate your dyke guts, but I'll probably marry you one of these days... when we're both past our prime."

"Promises, promises. I've said yes a hundred times, but you never get off the pot." She released his cock and became business. "What'd I do with her?"

"Get her cleaned up... do something about that mop on her head and get her dressed like a lady. Then bring her over to the place about eight tonight."

"Okay," Gertie replied.

Nick stood up and moved to the elevator. "Anything really important pops up... I'll be upstairs."

"Poker? At this hour?" she said.

"Third floor," he said.

"Oh. Just a little squeeze?"

"Sweetheart," he said, stepping into the elevator, "you know you always affect me that way."

He stepped off the elevator and nearly ran into Genie.

"Well, shit-on-a-stick, hot-damn. Boss, you ain't been up here in so long I thought your pecker done fell off!"

"Hello, you fat old bitch. Give us a kiss!"

The huge woman threw her flabby black arms around his neck and mashed her thick lips over his in a slobbering kiss. He could feel her gigantic tits mash against his chest and he could imagine them hanging nearly to her waist when she was nude.

Nick had never seen the big black woman nude. He often wondered what such a mountain of flesh would look like without any clothes on.

She broke the kiss and dropped her huge, ham like hands down to his narrow buttocks. She pulled his hips forward and pound her pelvis against his cock. Her mound felt soft and at least a yard wide against his groin.

"You come up to nail ol' Momma Genie today? Huh? I'll give that pecker of yours some a' Momma's special treatment. Those skinny young pussies ain't learned half about fuckin' what Momma done already forgot!"

"Not today."

They started down the hall toward the private apartment he kept an the third floor for just this type of afternoon.

"How's business?" he said, rubbing his arm against the side of her breast.

"Don't gimme that shit, Nick honey. You keepin' the books!"

"Business is good," he said. "How much you steal from me so far this month?"

"'Bout a thousand... give or take a trick or two," she cackled.

And she had. And he knew it. And he didn't care. Like Gertie, his secretary, Genie could have anything she wanted. The only reason there was a third floor was because of Gertie. He knew she was smart enough and tough enough to handle any kind of a house. That's why he had one.

They entered the apartment.

"Got anything new?" Nick asked, pulling his shirt from his pants and starting to strip. "Anything tender, not too used, and efficient?"

"Got just the thing, Nicky... a little redhead came last week from Cleveland. New to the business, but good. Fella had her all night last night and said she got the snappingest pussy he ever fucked."

"She a groanin' phony?" Nick was down to his shorts. He rolled them down his legs.

"No way. Girls say she digs it so much she goes out and gives it away on her day of f."

"Send her in," Nick said. "But wait a few minutes. I gotta shower... wash some dirt off from a piece downstairs."

Genie cackled and fisted his cock. "With a prick like you got, boss, she probably won't even take the two days off with pay she gets for fuckin' you'."

"Get outta here," he said, laughing and slapping her on the ass.

Nick watched the swing of her jutting twin checks as she walked out.

He kicked his discarded clothes into a pile. He stopped in front of the big mirror that was directly in front of the oversized bed. A smile came to his face as he viewed his naked body.

Forty-five years old and his face and body had the condition of someone eighteen years younger. He stood six feet two stripped, and there was no fat on his muscled frame. The eyes and the lips had a cruelty in them that even he could see. They showed an evil beyond the petty shortcomings of most men.

Nick Jennings possessed evil like he would a whore. He professed ownership of evil, using her, but never discarding her.

He stepped into the shower and felt relieved as the hot spray poured over his body. He lathered himself, enjoying the almost sensual feeling of the hot water.

He turned off the tap and dried off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked back into the living room and over to the bar. He found a bottle of Scotch.

As he was pouring a drink, there was a light tap on the door. "Come in!" he called. "Drink?"

"One cube... no water."

He didn't turn around. "Sit down... make yourself at home."

"It's nice," she said. "Red plush. I've never been here before."

"Few people have," he said, turning around with the two glasses in hand.

She was young, probably around twenty. Flaming red hair and a youthful quality of impishness. Going down, the impishness and the innocence stopped at her neck. The robe was loose, more like a drape hanging over her shoulders. The bra was having a hard time holding her swelling breasts captive.

His eyes wandered over the slight rise of her belly over the fragile bikini panties. They were sheer and did little to cover the inviting dark triangle that covered her pussy-mound.

She rose to accept the drink and he undressed her with his eyes. She looked down at the front of his towel and quickly glanced away. Nick thought he noticed a red tinge creeping over her face.

Jesus, a blushing whore. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed?"

"A little," she replied, sipping the drink. "I'm a whore, but this is a freebie and... you're kind of a legend."

He laughed. "Fuckin' a legend is just like fucking anybody else, baby."

"Oh," she said, again dropping her eyes to the towel. It was bulging. "That's not what I heard."

The towel bulged even more. Her clit began to rise and fall with excitement.

"What's your name?" he said, finishing his thought.

"But... what's your name?"

"Fay."

"Come here, Fay." Watching her, he let the towel fall to the floor.

Her wide eyes on his cock made it harder. She stood directly in front of him, and he could almost smell her need. She could see his. Putting his arms around her, his hands moved lower, cupping her fleshy, nylon-covered buttocks.

He pulled her to him. His hands began to move slowly around and around on the cheeks of her ass. The motion caused her full, flaring hips to rotate against his body.

He looked down between their bodies, between the heaving swell of her breasts. His cock was mashed against her belly, pointing straight up, the head pressing against her navel. His cock jumped and gleamed.

His mouth found her waiting lips. They kissed slowly, passionately. His tongue wormed its heated way past the teeth into her mouth. He found a tongue as eager as his what they met and licked at each other furiously. It lasted a long time. When it ended, they were petting heavily.

She leaned harder against him and explored the taut, corded muscles of his ass-cheeks. He found the hooks in her bra. It was a strapless. When he released the clasp, she leaned back slightly, letting her bra fall to the floor between them.

When she leaned forward again, he felt the huge pillows of her breasts mashing against his chest. The hard nipples seemed to burn hales in his body.

God, he thought, how could they be that big and that firm?

He stepped back slightly and cupped them in his hands. Hard nipples stood straight out from huge dark areolas.

She was moaning now, her eyes closed and her head thrown back.

"Gertie was right," Nick whispered.

"Huh?"

"Gertie said you loved to fuck. She was right."

"Who wouldn't?" she said, reaching between them and grasping his huge cock. Her fingers couldn't reach around it. "Who wouldn't, with something like this to work on?"

Nick kissed the tip of her right breast. It swelled to a greater size. Slowly he moved his lips around the bobbing nipple, then brought his tongue into play.

She squealed in delight and her hand became a blur on his cock.

Nick pulled her backward with him onto the bed. He rolled her over beneath him. He slid one hand dawn between their straining bodies until he felt the swell of her belly and then the smoothness of her sheer panties. His probing fingers continued on wider the elastic band. When he could feel the softness of her dark, softly curling pubic hair, he paused.

Gently, he caressed, and his fingers combed through her pubic hair until he found the peak of her wet slit.

"Oh, J... oh, sweet Jesus, you're turning me on," she moaned.

"You got a lot of nice body to turn on, Fay honey," he said. "Just relax and enjoy it."

She was beginning to writhe and hump her cunt against his exploring fingers. Her frantic hands surrounded his rigid cock. She pumped his cock.

"Now, Nick... do it to me now!" she begged, her voice barely audible in his ear. "Put it in me... fuck me with it!"

Her aroused body twisted and writhed in need beneath him. Moving a little to the side, he allowed her to lay flat while he moved between her legs.

"My panties," she said. "Nick, my..." He shredded them, dropping the pieces of nylon to the floor beside the bed. Her thighs parted eagerly. His cock, already wet with his own desire, slid from the mound of her belly. His seeping cockhead slithered down and came to rest lightly in the gap between her parted cunt-lips.

"Oh, God, now!" she cried. "Give it to me! Just hump forward and ram your cock into me!"

She was arching toward him, shaving the mouth of her cunt toward his cock. He settled himself deeper between her thighs, and his chest slid over the hard tips of her tits.

"That feels good," he said, the huge tip of his cock tickling the tender lips of her now soaking cunt. "Is it in!"

She guided his cock into her cunt in one, smooth, long stroke.

He paused, grinding his pelvic bone against her hardened and exposed clitoris, and then he began a smooth, in-and-out pumping motion.

"Good?" he said, panting slightly with extension.

"The best," she replied, wrapping her legs around his hips and lifting her ass high in the air. "Oh, yes, like that, Nick. Oh, honey, you got a nice cock! Feed it to me good... yes... yes..."

He grabbed the cheeks of her ass and pulled her roughly up to him. His throat erupted in animal grunts of desire as he pounded his thick meat into her wet pussy.

Her face became contorted with lust, and her head moved from side to side. Her big tits rolled back and forth, the nipples brushing and heating up against the hair on his chest.

She was climbing toward her peak and he knew it. He felt her nails digging into, the flesh of his shoulders, urging him to give her everything he had.

"You got it?" he panted.

"Oh, y-yeah!" she stammered. "I'm right here... I'm so close... don't stop! Please don't stop!"

"I ain't gonna, honey," he said, smiling down at her lusting face. "Not for a long, long time."

Her body tightened and arched up against him. Her pelvis pound violently against his as her pussy sucked and swallowed the full force of his hammering cock.

"I got it... I got it... now!" she screamed.

Her release was violent as only a professional whore's can be. When a pro gets it, she gets it good, whether it's on the end of another woman's tongue or, now and then, on the big shaft and head of a good cock.

Her fingernails went crazy on his back. Red welts and gashes appeared from his clenched buttocks up to his muscular shoulders. All of her weight was up on her shoulders with her legs back over them. As the hard ridge of his cock slid back and forth, it scraped against her clit.

She writhed and screamed through a total climax, then sagged back, spread-eagled beneath him. He paused and eased his cock in and out of her cunt a few times.

When she regained her breath, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "You didn't come."

"I will," he said.

"You gave it to me instead."

"When's the last time you came on a cock?"

"Jesus, man," she said. "I can't remember. Damn, that was good."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"I'm gonna feel like shit if I can't get you off."

"You will. Don't worry about that," he said, looking at her. Her face looked innocent and elfish. "I get a lot of my kicks gettin' whores off."

"Yeah," she said. "I guess it is a fuckin' challenge. It takes quite a stud to do it."

"Thank you, madam."

"I wish I were."

"What?"

"A madam. Then I'd only have to fuck guys like you."

They both laughed.

Nick's cock was still rock-hard, and still inside her cunt. He had been running it very slowly in and out the full length of her soaking pussy. Each time, on the outstroke, he had teased her clit with the enormous ridge of his cock.

She hadn't even realized what he was doing, but she suddenly found herself aroused all over again. "Oh, shit," she said, lifting her legs.

"Have I told you that you've got a great body?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Have I told you that you've got a great cock? You want me to blow you?"

"You want me to eat you?"

"I'd rather have your cock fucking me," she said.

"Then let's fuck."

Everything in the room smelled of fucking now. Her inner thighs were slick from the sticky juices of her last orgasm and the current response to his teasing cock. The smell of woman was strong as he climbed back on top of her and pushed the full length of his meat, clear up to his balls, into her hungry cunt.

"Oh, God, what a cock!" she groaned, the thirst for his cunt-filling cock again taking over her mind and body.

He started to fuck her even more vigorously than before. The huge trunk of his rod filled the walls and expanded the lips of her cunt completely, stretching them to the limit as he fucked in and out.

Nick loved every stroke of his cock going into her. He could come on almost any given lunge, but he was reluctant to give up the joy of fucking her beautiful, willing body. He didn't want to come and end the bliss, but the practical tricks she was performing with her cunt became more than he could stand.

"Oh, Nick... Nick, Nick!" she cried. "Your cock fills my cunt so good... so fucking good! Give it to me! Pound the fucking rod clear up to my tits!"

Her scream and the gyrations of her silky thighs sewed to drive him on. He bunched the cheeks of his ass and pound his cock into her with ever-increasing fury. He charged up her pussy as her cunt gripped and milked him harder. He prodded the sweet, murky darkness of her hole to its very depths.

Constant moans of delight filled the room as he pound his bone against her and his cockhead against her cervix.

He released her tits and put his hands on the sides of her body. Raising himself above her so that they were joined only by cock to cunt, he got even more leverage.

She looked between her legs and laughed aloud with brimming joy as she saw the huge width and length of his cunt-soaked cock ramming like a piston into her gaping pussy.

"Oh, God, you got a ck... sweet Jesus, what a prick. Beautiful... beautiful," she moaned as she continued to match his rhythm. She hunched and stabbed her hips up against his body, sheathing his cock again and again with her cunt. Her muscles contracted with every lunge, milking the cum from his seething balls.

"Oh, shit!" he screamed. "Suck it with your cunt! I'm coming... there!"

Her climax met his spurting cream somewhere in the pit of her pussy. She milked his cock with the talented muscles of her cunt until his heart would melt and flow into her along with his heated cum.

They continued to fuck until their fluids and their energies were totally expended. He fell to her side, bringing her around with him so that his cock remained inside her cunt.

They said nothing. They had already said everything with their bodies. They lay side by side, their eyes reflecting the satisfaction they both felt.

At last his cock became deflated enough to slip out of her cunt.

He glanced at the clock and then back at her. He gently kissed the tempting bulge of her tit before he got up and left her sleeping.

What a difference, he thought, as he showered, between a whore who has nothing and gives everything, and a whore who has everything and gives nothing.

In his mind he was comparing the two women he had taken in that same afternoon. Natalie was definitely second best.

He selected a shirt, tie, and suit from the well-stocked wardrobe. Dressed, he returned to the bed and again kissed her lightly on the breast and then the forehead. An outsider, seeing the action, would have been amazed at his tenderness.

"I'll see you again," he whispered, then moved to the door.

"Good?" she said as he opened the door.

He turned and looked at her. She hadn't moved, but one eye was open.

"You little, fake."

"Good?" she repeated.

"Damn near the best," he replied. She winked.

He moved into the hall. At the elevator he met Gertie. It seemed she always showed up just as he was leaving to get a report on her choice.

"Well?" she said, sporting a smile as wide as her face.

"That all?"

"Very nice," he said, stepping into the elevator.

"How much you gettin' for her?" he said, holding the door.

"A hundred a fuck."

"Get two!" Nick said.