Chapter 7
SQUIRREL ON THE MAKE
It was early Saturday morning when Dan awoke. After a fast cup of coffee and a shower, he decided that perhaps he could still salvage the deal.
Reaching for the phone number Lila had given him, he sat back, studied it, then lighting a cigarette, carefully dialed her number.
"Hello," a sleepy voice on the other end answered.
"Hello, Lila. Rise and shine. This is Herbie."
There was a long pause then as Dan's heart stood still. She suddenly came alive. "Oh, Herbie. I'm so sorry about last night."
"That's okay," he good-naturedly brushed it aside. "It was just one of those things. What do you say we meet for dinner in Manhattan and then really spend the day together?"
"Well," she paused, "my father is bringing my mother home today from the hospital and...."
"Look baby, if you don't want to see me, just say so!" Dan said, purposely turning on the pressure.
"Oh no, I do want to see you," she answered eagerly.
"Good, now that that's all settled, how about four p.m. in the lobby of the hotel on 50th Street and Seventh Avenue?"
"Make it four-thirty," she said.
"Okay, honey," he answered. "Four-thirty it is. See you, baby," he blew her a kiss and she responded.
Putting down the phone, Dan began to whistle. Now this is the proper way to start a holiday. She's eating it right out of my hand. Now, if no one tips her off that I'm not Herbie, then I'm in for sure, he smiled as he admired himself in the mirror.
Four-thirty p.m. found Dan anxiously awaiting her in the lobby of the hotel. Four-forty, quarter to five, and still no Lila! Damn it, he mumbled. She must have found out the truth and isn't going to show up. I'll give it another five minutes, then I'll scram, he thought, looking up at the huge clock on the wall. Then his heart leaped as he saw her coming in through the door.
"Oh, Herbie," she said as he rushed forward to meet her. "I'm sorry I'm late."
"Forget it," he smiled. "The important thing is that you're here."
It was quite obvious that she hadn't learned the truth yet, so Dan knew that this deal was in the bag for him.
"Look baby," he said, as he led her over to a group of chairs on the other side of the lobby, away from the desk clerk. "I'm going to the men's room right down here, and I'll be back in a jiffy."
Making sure that she couldn't see him, Dan registered for a double room for Mr. and Mrs. Herbie Miller. Then walking up behind her, he put his two hands over her eyes and said, "Guess who?"
"Prince Charming?" she answered, and they both laughed as they walked outside into the street.
"Where to, baby?" he asked. "Wherever you say."
Dan smiled and felt like saying, let's go up to the hotel room and skip all this bullshit, but he knew that by using polish, he would slide into her soon enough.
A good dinner at a steak house, more conversation with Dan, letting her do all the talking, as they sat rubbing knees together under the table, then a movie and a few cocktails at a fashionable bar, then once again outside in the street. Dan started walking with her in the direction of the hotel where they had met earlier.
"Where are we going?" she asked nonchalantly, as she smelled the lovely orchid that Dan had just bought her from one of the Broadway vendors.
"Are you kidding?" he answered, almost sarcastically.
She stopped dead in her tracks and looked up at him. "You mean...? "
"Yes, baby," he answered, looking seriously at her.
"And what would happen if I said no?" she asked, looking back very seriously at him.
Careful Danny boy, he thought to himself. This is the big psychological moment. Don't blow it. "Well, I would tell you," he said, knitting his brows, "that you were a very nice girl and that I enjoyed your company very much and that it could have really led to something more serious."
"Meaning marriage?" her voice rose questioningly.
"Yes, even marriage," he answered, almost believing it himself as he said it.
She paused, then in what seemed like a life time answered, "All right, I'll accept your ultimatum."
He was glad in one way, yet in another way he felt like a louse. But a stiff cock has no conscience and the loveliness of her body quickly stifled any qualms that he may have had.
After walking a few steps with her in silence he said, "Look Lila, if you don't really want to, then forget it." Nothing like a little reverse psychology to get them anxious, he thought. "There's not going to be any fun in it if you're going to act like you're going to the electric chair."
"I'm sorry," she smiled. "I didn't mean to be a wet blanket."
As they walked into the hotel lobby, the first thing Dan noticed was Lila's father with a paper bag in his hand, and along side of him was a fellow and a girl. From Lila's description, it had to be Dave and Marsha.
Her father, seeing them, pulled the shorts out of the bag that Dan had hurriedly thrown under the bed the night before, and came running toward him yelling, "You phony sonuvabitch, I'll kfll you!"
People in the lobby screamed as Dan made a run for the door, with her father and the other fellow in hot pursuit. Rushing out into the crowded street, Dan almost knocked several people over, he knew as he started running zig zag through the crowd.
"Look out," he yelled, having no time to stop and try to explain. They were out for blood, his blood.
Seeing a cab taking off from the curb, Dan pulled the door open and running along side yelled to the startled driver, "Police officer!"
The cab slowed down just enough to let him in. Slamming the door shut, he yelled, "Straight ahead and skip the lights. This is a police emergency."
"Yes sir," the driver answered.
Luckily for Dan he wasn't the type that hesitated to ask questions, as he gunned the car down the avenue covering a half dozen blocks, then swinging left toward Sixth Avenue at Dan's order.
Looking back behind him, he saw the coast was clear. Whew! That was close, too damn close, he breathed heavily.
"Okay, cabbie, you can leave me off at this corner."
"Yes sir," the cabbie answered, bringing the cab to a sudden halt.
Dan gave him a five dollar bill and said, "Keep it," as he turned and walked away.
It didn't take too much of an imagination to figure out what had happened. After her old man brought her mother home from the hospital, they must have found his shorts under the bed. Then, phoning her girlfriend, found out that he wasn't the real Herbie. Obviously, she must have left a note telling them where she was going to meet him. Her father simply put two and two together, checked the hotel register, the finding out that they didn't use the room yet, waited with her friends until they got back.
Boy, that sure was a close one, he shuddered. Needing something for his jangled nerves, he walked into the first bar that he came to.
With five shots of Scotch under his belt and renewed courage, Dan emerged from the bar and started walking toward Broadway. Twice in two days fate had cheated him out a sure fuck and he didn't like the idea of going home to a lonely apartment to jerk off.
Standing on the busy corner, he watched the flow of life passing by him and wondered where he could fit in.
"Hey cat," a voice from behind him called. Turning, he saw a medium height character wearing dark sun glasses and sporting a pointed beard approaching him. "I've been watching you," he said, "and you look like a squirrel on the make."
"A squirrel?" Dan repeated, in a tone that showed he wasn't quite sure what the innuendo meant, at the same time looking him over carefully, wondering what his game was.
"Yeah," he explained. "You know squirrels. They're always looking to bury their nuts in some hole and you impress me as being one."
"What gives you that impression?" Dan asked, as he looked suspiciously at him, wondering if he was a cop.
"Oh, just instinct, that's all. There's plenty of stuff floating around in the street," he said, ignoring Dan's suspicious look. "But if you pick the wrong one, you can get your head handed to you. By the way, my name is Sex Symbol. What's yours?"
Dan felt like turning around and walking away, but there was a remote possibility that this character could lead him to something. "Errol Flynn," he answered.
"Say, you're not related to that late movie actor, are you?" he asked, as he drew closer, obviously impressed.
Boy, this guy is really dense, Dan thought, as he backed away to avoid the garlic smell that emanated from his mustard-stained lips.
"No, only name-wise," he answered gingerly. "Do you know of a place where I can meet someone?" asked Dan with a phony smile of friendship on his face.
The character looked behind him as though someone might be listening to what he was about to say. "Pal, I got more broads than a dog's got fleas. Don't judge me by my clothes. It's just that I don't like to bother dressing up, that's all."
"Oh, I understand that," Dan said, looking at his torn shit brown-colored sport jacket with scum stains all over his pants. "Why the dark glasses?" Dan asked.
"It gives me a different perspective and also brings out my charm, get it?" he asked.
"Yeah, I get it," Dan answered, regretting that he had asked. "These women that you were talking about...." Dan paused.
"Sex. Just call me Sex. like I said, that's my handle."
"Yeah, well Sex," Dan repeated, "these women you were talking about, how does one get to meet them?"
"Meet them? Don't you want to fuck them?" he asked, looking at Dan as though he was some sort of a curiosity.
"Well," Dan said, gritting his teeth to hold back his temper, "you have to meet them first, don't you?"
"Oh man," he looked up at Dan in amazement. "You're from prehistoric times. You don't go through all that shit these days."
"What do you do, rape them?" Dan asked impatiently.
"Man, there's chicks out there in that crowd that want to get fucked more than you do. You just have to know how to pick them, that's all."
"And you know how," Dan said sarcastically.
"Man, with me it's a science. I'm a regular meterologist."
"A meterologist?" Dan asked.
"Yeah, I can take one look at a chick and I know whether. Ha-ha, get it?" he laughed.
"Yeah, I think I'm beginning to get it," Dan answered, thinking to himself, I'd better take off, this guy is just a nut.
"Okay pal, I'm going to show you how I operate. Just follow me."
Dan hesitated. Well, I spent this much time listening to him bullshit, I may as well spend a few more minutes with him. Who knows, maybe he's on the level. After all they say truth is stranger than fiction.
"Okay, lead on, McDuff,"
"The name is Sex, Sex Symbol," he reminded Dan, who smiled at his ignorance.
The Port Authority Building loomed straight ahead as Sex Symbol led the reluctant Dan through the busy terminal. As Dan was about to ask him what he had in mind, Sex stepped in front of two teenagers that were walking by.
"How would you girls like to go bowling?" he asked with a toothy smile.
"What with.' Your two balls, mister!"
"Oh, a couple of wise bitches," he said, sneering after them.
Dan watched as he again made his pitch, walking toward a girl who was looking at a waitress wanted sign in the luncheonette window.
"Looking for a job?" he asked, putting a very sincere look on his face as he approached her.
The girl looked up at him, a bit startled. Then looking at Dan who was standing a few feet away, looked back at him. "Are you affiliated with this place?" she asked.
"Affiliated?" Sex threw his head back and managed a convincing laugh. "I'm the manager."
"Oh," she said, relaxing her obvious tenseness.
"Have you had any experience in this line of work?" he asked, once again maintaining a sincere air about him, as. his eyes took in her well shaped body.
"Well, to be perfectly honest with you," she said, brushing her long blonde hair backward over her head nervously with her hands, "I never did this type of work before."
"I see," he said, looking her over carefully. Her clothes were neat but worn, and from the tattered satchel that she held in her arm, he could tell that she was down on her luck. "Did you just get into town?" he asked.
"Yes. As a matter-of-fact, I just got off the bus."
"You must be starved," he said. "Well, I haven't...."
"Consider yourself my guest," he interrupted as he pulled the satchel from her hand. "By the way, this is my assistant manager, George Prescott."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," she said. Dan's face flushed as he nodded. Boy, this sonuvabitch has some line of shit, he thought to himself, as they began walking.
"Aren't we going inside?" she asked, looking at the luncheonette.
"Oh, there's plenty of time for that. What's your name?" he asked.
"Helen, Helen Peterson," she answered.
"Well, Helen, consider the job yours. And don't worry about your lack of experience, you're good for two hundred and fifty a week, not counting tips."
"Two hundred and fifty a week not counting tips!" her voice rose in astonishment.
"Yeah, you'll make much more once I break you in," he said, turning his head as he winked at Dan through his sun glasses.
Five minutes later found them in a cheap spaghetti joint on Ninth Avenue. Sex was talking a mile a minute and Dan could see from her expression that he had her completely bullshitted. Catching a glimpse at Dan's impatient look on his face, he decided to bring this deal to a head.
"Let's drink a toast to Helen's new job," he said as he filled her glass with some more beer from the bottle. "Did you drop that, Helen?" he asked pointing his left hand toward the floor. As she bent her head down to look, Dan noticed him slipping a pill into her beer with his right hand.
"I don't see anything," she said, bringing her head up.
"Oh, it must be some dust on my glasses," he said as he ran a paper napkin over them. "Well, here's to our girl, Helen," he said as they all raised their glasses. "May this drink bring us all closer together." Dan caught the significance of that crack as he watched her innocently gulp down the drugged beer.
A few minutes later, she didn't know whether she was coming or going.
"That stuff you slipped her," Dan said, "are you sure it's safe?"
"What stuff?" Sex asked.
"Look, don't try shitting on me," Dan's voice rose in anger. "I saw you slip something into her beer."
"Oh that," he answered. "Well, you wanted to get laid, didn't you?"
"Yes, but drugging a girl...."
"Look, Errol," Sex interrupted, "what's the difference if you drug them with bullshit or with a tablet. It all boils down to the same thing, doesn't it?"
Dan knew that there was a damn good answer to that question, but before he could give it, Helen, who was now beginning to feel the full effects of the aphrodisiac, pulled her dress up to her navel, revealing a large pair of shapely milk white thighs, which she spread wide apart and giggled.
"Let's fuck," she said. "Last one in is a rotten egg."
"Well, do you agree with me or would you rather sit here and argue the point while she rapes both of us?" Sex asked.
"You win," Dan answered as conscience and fair play lost out to lust.
The waiter, seeing that they were getting up to leave, rushed over to the table and hastily made out the check. "Take care of it, Errol," Sex said. "The stock market left me a little short this week."
Dan wanted to tell him to cut the shit, but instead reached into his pocket for his money clip and paid the bill, making sure to leave the open-mouthed waiter, who was staring at Helen, a good size tip so that he wouldn't get any ideas like phoning the police or trying to interfere.
Sex smiled and said, "You're okay, Errol. You're a real sport."
"Yeah, I know," Dan answered. "How do we get her out of here?"
"Just grab one arm around her waist and I'll do the same on the other side, so that she will be between us when we start walking."
"I don'! want to leave," Helen said. "I want to stay here and fuck."
"Come on, baby," Sex said, putting a big phony smile on his face as he threw his arm tightly around her waist. "There's a fellow waiting for you outside with a cock a yard long."
"Oh, then let's go," she yelled almost dragging them to the door with her: "Where is he?" she asked as they got outside. "Hey, you with the yard long cock, where are you?" she called out, looking up and down the street.
"Now what?" Dan asked nervously as he tightly held her around the waist.
"Where's your pad at?" Sex asked.
As much as Dan wanted to get laid, he realized that once the drug wore off, there could be hell to pay. And besides, he didn't trust Sex any further than he could spit.
"I don't have one. I, too, just got into the city this evening."
Sex gave him a dirty look, obviously not believing him. "Well, do you want to lay her in the street?" he asked sarcastically.
Dan felt like belting him one for that crack. "No, but can't we get a hotel or something?"
"Hotels that don't ask questions cost extra bread," Sex answered studying Dan's face carefully.
"Okay, so I'll pay it," Dan answered.
Obviously pleased with Dan's decision, Sex said, "Come on, down this way. Once this stuff really hits it will take a dozen guys to handle her."
Together they half dragged and half carried the loud talking girl into a cheap looking flea bag on Tenth Avenue.
"Hold on to her," Sex said, "while I speak to the clerk."
As soon as Sex walked away, she lunged for Dan's cock, grabbing it tightly in her hand. "Ouch!" he yelled, grabbing her wrist and twisting her hand loose from it.
"I want it," she yelled.
"Okay, baby, okay." Dan tried to get her as he held her arms tightly pressed to her sides. "Be a good girl. We're going to-"
"I don't want to be a good girl," she interrupted. "I want to fuck!"
"Okay." Damn it, what's keeping him, he thought, as she began yelling and trying to kick him.
Realizing that he wasn't going to be able to hold her much longer, Dan was just about to yell out for Sex when he appeared. Together, they herded her toward an oily looking character sitting behind a broken down filthy looking desk.
Sex exchanged a few words of Spanish with him then said, "Okay, it's all set. Give him twenty-five dollars."
"Twenty-five dollars for this shit!"
"Easy," Sex cautioned, "he understands English."
Dan was really pissed off as he once again pulled his money clip out and handed the twenty-five dollars to the clerk who pointed to a door down the hall.
It was a hell of a job getting her into the room, as she kept kicking out wildly at them and grabbing for their cocks. Once inside the room, they threw her on the bed, then jumped back awaiting her attack.
Instead, she began giggling and started to undress. Within a minute, she was sitting up on the edge of the bed with her shapely legs wide apart, fingering her pussy and looking at them like a wild animal in heat.
"Being that you paid the tab, Errol," Sex said as he stared nervously at the wide-eyed man-hungry looking girl sitting there looking at them like some sort of Frankenstein monster, "you can have her first. Take all the time you want, m be sitting in the lobby, so just take your time. I'm in no rush."
"I bet you're not," Dan answered sarcastically. "Are you sure you don't want her first, old buddy? After all, I don't want to take advantage of the situation."
"No, no, it's okay, I'll wait," he said hurriedly closing the door behind him as though he had expected a bomb to go off at any moment.
Dan felt peculiar as he looked across the room at this nude, staring female, sitting there on the edge of the bed watching him like some wild jungle cat ready to devour him at any moment.
As he slowly began removing his clothes with his eyes carefully riveted on her, he could not help but wonder just who was going to rape who. The circumstances of the entire situation were so unusual that for the first time in his sexual career, Dan was approaching a female without a hard-on.
Seeing the dead meat hanging between his legs, she swung her body on to the middle of the bed, stretched her arms over her head, gripping the bed posts as she lay there on her back slamming her large inviting thighs open and ! closed, at the same time parting her lips and looking passionately at Dan.
His dead cock suddenly sprung to life at the sight of this irresistible temptation and all previous thoughts and precautions vanished, as he quickly mounted her and sunk his torch into her volcano. Almost immediately, they both erupted together.
Dan wanted to relax after that big splashing load, but he quickly realized that he who rides the tiger does not dismount. Clamping her left hand around his neck in a wrestler's hold, while her right hand parted the cheeks of his ass, she inserted her long fingers deep into his rectum. "Ouch!" he screamed. "What the hell."
"Lay still," she snarled with such ferociousness that for a moment Dan actually was afraid of her. "Lay still," she repeated, "or I'll rip your ass-hole out with my nails."
Dan could see by the look on her face and in her eyes that she meant it. If he tried to force himself free, those nails of hers could tear his rectum to pieces.
"Okay, baby," Dan said, trying to humor her, "but I need to rest before I can get it up again."
"I'll get it up for you," Helen said, as she began working her fingers in and out of his ass-hole in a rapid motion.
Dan wanted to protest, but suddenly the feeling that she brought on became so overpowering that he just lay there on top of her and began enjoying it. Goddamn, he thought, so this is what a fag. feels like when he's getting pumped in the ass.
It was so exciting that Dan got two hard-ons, one after another and exploded them into her as rapidly as they came up. She kept shooting like it was the fourth of July. Every time she came she would say, "Oh daddy, oh daddy!"
Fucking her was real wild. Every time he would shoot a load she would spread the cheeks of his ass with one hand and finger him, while with the other hand she would massage his loosely hanging balls at the same time, blowing into his ear and burning his lips with her hot passionate kisses.
Dan had completely lost count of how many times he had come. She had taken complete charge over his penis and was now using it like a gasoline pump to fill her forever empty tank; Forcing him to come again and again, whether he wanted to or not, by her manipulation of his sex organs.
"Come on, baby," he begged. "I can't keep doing this forever. I'll drop dead."
"Fuck!" she ordered, giving Dan a menacing look as she pricked his ass-hole lightly with one of her nails.
"Owl" he yelled in sudden pain. "Okay, okay, I'll try, but don't claw me again," he heard himself begging.
My god, he thought to himself as he began to feel his heart pounding like a hammer and the room lights going dim. If I don't pull out, she'll drain the very life out of me. It's better to risk a torn ass-hole than certain death, he thought.
Suddenly, the door opened and Sex stuck his head in, "Hey Errol, did you have enough?"
Helen, seeing fresh blood enter the room, pushed Dan off and jumped off the bed. She smiled passionately at Sex as she helped him out of his pants and led him toward the bed, completely oblivious to Dan, who jumped off to get out of their way.
"When does that shit wear off?" Dan asked.
"It takes about, ouch!"
That was all Dan heard from him as he sunk between her thighs. Well, he brought it on himself, Dan thought, as he got into his clothes. That drug created a vampire and it's only poetic justice that he feed the monster that he had created.
Dragging himself out-of the room, he closed the door behind him and staggered down the hallway toward the clerk.
"Hey amigo," he said, "in about one hour you better send a rescue crew for my buddy. He'll need it. Adios!" He waved as he staggered out into the street.