Chapter 9
Archie tooled into Salt Lake City around 6:00 p.m. It took him another hour and a half to find the house. It was an old house, but didn't look too bad. He didn't approve, though, because Fern could afford better. Fuller, her fourth, had left her pretty well fixed.
He had noticed the many no vacancy signs along the way, so found a motel not too far away just in case. It was their last vacancy; not too fancy, but clean. They didn't have a pool, but he wasn't figuring on swimming, anyway.
He threw his bag into the room and returned to the house, parking across the street. He walked across the street, up onto the porch, and rapped on the door. Fern opened the door, her mouth falling open when she saw Archie.
"Oh, my God ... you!" Fern yelped, and slammed the door.
Archie was quicker than she, not expecting a warm welcome, anyway, and got his foot in before it went shut. He pushed the door open, sending Fern backwards into the room, and stepped inside.
"Archie Baker, you get the hell out of here!" she screamed. "Leave us alone, leave Florence alone. She doesn't want to see you ... ever. She hates you."
"Where is she, Fern," Archie said.
"I won't tell you."
"Then I'll find her myself." He pushed Fern aside and looked around the room, then went into the next room. It was the kitchen, and there were two girls doing the dishes, one washing and one wiping. They were young, one about twenty, the other younger.
Fem was right behind Mm. "Chug will kill you if you don't get out of here."
"Who's Chug?" ArcMe said.
"He's our husband."
"Our husband? You're nuts, Fern. Who are these girls?"
"Two of Chug's wives."
"That's stupid, Fern. It's illegal, too. Now where the hell is Florence?"
"She's with her husband. He'll kill you."
"I'm her husband," ArcMe said, and pushed her out of the way again.
The two girls kept on with their work.
ArcMe went through the house looking. He opened a door; it was the bathroom, and empty. He opened the next door and stood riveted to the spot. It was a bedroom and a huge man was fucking a girl on the bed. The man moved Ms arm and the woman looked at Mm. It was Florence.
"Florence, what the hell are you doing?" ArcMe screamed.
The man looked at him, but kept pounding into Florence's cunt. He had a full head of long hair and a full beard and moustache. He was very ugly and had big gaps in his teeth. He gave a growl like he was about to come and started humping rapidly.
Florence looked at Archie, her eyes glazed and half closed, and she smiled at him. Her arms came up around the big man's neck. "Oh, Chug, I'm gonna come," she moaned.
Chug grunted, coming, too. Archie stood watching. He saw a look of pleasure spread across Florence's face, a look he knew well. She was coming, coming hard. The smell of pot was strong on the air.
Chug emptied himself into Archie's wife and rolled off the bed. He was huge, well over six-five and probably three hundred pounds. He dwarfed Archie.
"What the fuck do you want?" he said, and lumbered over to where Archie was standing. The man was naked, covered with thick hair, and his cock was huge. He was maybe half hard, still, and it hung a good foot long. The milky goo was still oozing out.
Archie looked past him at his wife on the bed. She was spread out, completely naked. "Fuck me again, Chug," she moaned.
"That's my wife," Archie snorted, "and I'm taking her out of here."
Archie doubled up his fist and drove it into the man's gut. It sunk in past his wrist, but the man didn't even grunt. He looked at Archie, doubled up his fist, and hit him in the face. Archie sailed backwards and went down on his back. He lay for a moment, and then sat up, his head buzzing, blood gushing from his nose.
"You get out of here and don't come back," Chug snarled, "or I'm liable to get pissed off."
Fern came over and helped Archie to his feet. His legs felt rubbery and he almost went back down.
"You better get out, Archie, or he'll kill you. He really will," Fern said.
Fern led him to the door, opened it, and pushed him out onto the porch.
"But what about Florence?" Archie cried.
"Forget her, Archie; she's no fucking good, anyway. She's just a tramp, a little whore."
The door slammed shut and he stood rubbing his jaw. It hurt like hell, and his nose was still leaking blood. He felt in his mouth to see if he still had all his teeth. He did, but several were loose. He walked across the street to his car and got in, his head still buzzing.
"By God, I'll bet he would kill me," he said, and started the engine. He would have to go back to the motel and figure out what to do. He had to get Florence out of that place.
He got back to the motel and discovered he didn't have his key. He wiped the blood from his face and nose and went to the office. "I must have locked my key in the room," he said. "Could I get another one to get in?"
A big, brassy redhead was behind the desk. She wore jeans that were two sizes too small and a skin tight t-shirt. She had big tits and her nipples were clearly visible. A fat man, bald-headed and smoking a cigar sat in a big easy chair reading a paper. He dropped the paper and looked at Archie.
"Take the spare key and go open his room, Doris," the fat man said, and lifted his paper back in place.
The redhead got the spare key from its little box and went outside with Archie. "Hi. I'm Doris," she said, and slipped her arm around his waist.
All the way across the courtyard to his unit, he could feel her big, soft tit pressing against his arm. She leaned heavily against him while she unlocked the door. She pushed the door open, reaching in and snapped on the light, and went in.
"Is everything okay here?" she said, crossed the room and glanced into the bathroom. "Got enough towels?" She went to the bed then and tested it with her hand. "The bed soft enough?" She sat down on the bed. "Got a cigarette?"
"You're husband is going to be looking for you to get back," Archie said.
"He's full of cheap wine. I don't think he could make it over here if his life depended on it. I could sure use a cigarette.
Archie shrugged and dug into his shirt pocket. The one thing he didn't need now was a jealous husband. He put the cigarette to her lips and lit it.
"You're not having one?" she asked.
"Not right now."
"Got any booze?"
"Nope."
"You make it tough on a girl, big guy," she said, and leaned back on her elbows, smoking slowly.
Archie reconsidered and lit himself a cigarette. He blew out the match and looked at her. She was grinning, and she had opened the front of her jeans. She wasn't wearing anything under them, and she was a real redhead.
"Jesus, lady, your husband could come walking in here and...."
"Don't worry about him. Come over here; I need some loving."
Archie worked his jaw back and forth. It hurt like hell and made him flinch. Christ, a light tap and he would be out of it. He watched her raise up and inch her jeans down her ass. She stopped when they were an inch below her crotch. Archie could see the fat, juicy lips nestled in the downy red fuzz. His cock hardened.
"Come over here," she said.
Archie took two steps towards her, unzipping his pants. Doris smiled and pushed her jeans on down to her knees.
Then the silence of the night was shattered. "Dor-us ... you get the fuck back over here!" a male voice bellowed.
"Aw, shit, that's Charlie," Doris snarled. She got to her feet and pulled up her jeans. "I want to, but I better not ... not now, anyway. You gonna be here tomorrow?"
"Maybe," Archie said.
Doris came over and put her arms around Archie's neck. "You stick around. I won't be able to get away from him tonight, but he goes to the races tomorrow afternoon." She kissed him. It hurt his jaw. "See you tomorrow afternoon," she said, and was gone.
Archie felt frustrated now. He hadn't been interested at first, but after seeing her red-haired pussy, he was really turned on. "Fuck it," he snarled, and peeled off his shirt and threw it on a chair. He sat down on the bed and took off his shoes and socks. The room was like an oven and he wished he had been more careful and picked a place that had air conditioning. He got back up and let his pants slide to the floor.
He was standing in his shorts when he realized the door was still open and there was someone there. He looked and saw a woman leaning against the jam, a glass in her hand. She wore a skirt and blouse, the blouse hanging outside the skirt, and she was barefooted.
"Hi," she said, "we have the unit next to yours and I wondered if I could borrow some ice."
"I don't have any ice," Archie said.
"Well, I guess we could drink without ice. Got any booze?"
"No. None of that, either," he said.
She was gone as quickly as she had appeared and Archie stood staring at the empty doorway. He wondered if the heat was getting to him. He didn't wonder for long, because suddenly she was back again, this time with a bottle in her other hand.
"Get a glass. You can have some of mine," she said.
"I'm not dressed," Archie said. "That's okay," she said, and stepped into the room.
He could see she was drunk and took a step backwards.
She came to the bed and sat down. "Get a glass," she said.
"You said we...." Archie stammered, "you're not alone?"
"We?" She looked puzzled for a moment, then giggled. "Oh, I understand. My husband four kids are with me, but not right now. I'm alone now, or was, until I came in here. They wanted to see the Great Salt Lake and I said it was too goddamn hot so they went without me. I'm alone now."
"It's getting dark; they'll probably be back soon ... won't they?"
"Naw. They've only been gone a couple hours or so. They'll mess around out there for a long time and then probably stop and get something to eat." She poured some whiskey into her glass. "Go and get a glass, honey. You look like you need a drink."
Archie shrugged. "Yeh, I guess I do." He went into the bathroom and brought out a glass and held it out. She filled it half way with whiskey. He took a quick slug. It rumbled in his belly, but felt good.
"Sit down; you make me nervous," she said.
Archie sat down, not too close. He took another hefty swallow from his glass.
"We're from New Jersey. God what a rat race it is back there. We've been driving for over a week, seems like a month. Drive like hell, see all the sights; 'cept we go by too fast to see anything. Goddamn, I'm so sick of that hot car, and those four brats, and that whining husband of mine. Sick, sick! I was delighted when they went to see that fucking lake without me." She took another drink, put the bottle on the floor and leaned back on one elbow. "You're cute," she said.
She was kind of cute, too, with short black hair and a little round face. She appeared to be somewhere close to thirty.
She stretched out her legs and pulled her skirt up to about mid-thigh.
"Do you think I have nice legs?" she asked.
Archie glanced at the door, then at her legs. She had nice legs. He nodded.
She drained her glass and let if fall onto the bed, then took the hem of her skirt and pulled it up to her hips. She wore no panties and she had a thick black bush. She spread her legs apart, revealing the pink flesh of her pouting cunt.
"Fuck me," she said.
A week ago, Archie would have believed something like this could happen only in a book; the past few days had taught him different. He stood up and pushed his shorts down.
The lady gasped and sat up. "God, it's bigger than Henry's," she gasped.
"It's only half hard," he said, and stepped over in front of her. "Hold it; make it hard."
She reached out slowly, then grabbed it firmly and started to stroke it. It grew mightily. "It's so big," she whispered, and looked up at him.
He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her back on the bed. He got her in position and settled between her legs. "Put it in," he said.
She reached down and took hold of his cock again. She fumbled for a moment, but she was open and ready and the head slid in. She moaned.
"Good, oh God, so good. I really need this," she gasped.
Archie pushed and she opened up to take him in, her cunt closing around him as each inch went in. He kept lunging until the whole thing was buried, then settled his weight onto her and started fucking.
"Do you cheat on your husband often?" Archie asked.
"Not often," she said. "But you do cheat on him?"
"Yes, sometimes."
She was lifting up to meet his thrusts. She was a good fuck.
"He doesn't always want it when I do. Oh, God, that feels so good. You're so big ... I like it big." She brought her legs up to insure complete penetration. "The goddamn kids have been with us constantly. I've been needing it so bad, and Henry wouldn't even after they were asleep ... yeh, yeh, like that, honey ... ooooooh, I love this. I saw you when you checked in and hoped you'd come back before Henry, and then that big redhead ... aw fuck, I'm getting close ... thought she was gonna get you first."
She was humping hard against him, her legs locked tightly around his back. He could tell she was coming, her breath came in short gasps, she clawed at his back with her nails, and her ass was completely off the bed.
"Awwwwwwww, fuck ... so good, coming so hard ... keep fucking," She wailed. Then she went loose under him, her legs falling from his back, her arms dropping onto the bed. "Don't come inside me," she gasped, "don't want no more fucking kids."
Archie was close and fucked hard. He could feel it filling his tube before he pulled out. He didn't want to pull out, but he was a gentleman. He grabbed at his cock as it came free and gave a loud gasp. The white goo spouted out onto her hair. He stroked at it and more came out. One spurt went onto the tail of her skirt, the next onto her leg. He milked himself until he was dry and then wiped himself-on her other thigh. He raised up on his knees and looked at her.
"I didn't come inside, but you're a mess," he said.
"Feels so good," she whispered.
He finally got her to her feet and headed for the door. He put her bottle in her hand. "Don't drop it," he said.
"Sure you don't have any ice?" she said.
"I'm sure," he said, and pushed her outside.
He locked the door and flopped onto the bed.
He felt pretty good; she was a great fuck, but if anyone else wanted in, they would have to break down the door. He was asleep within five minutes.