Chapter 11
"I'm going to kill them," Arny said casually.
Madge, reading one of the books John had given her, didn't look up. Arny repeated the words.
"What, dear?"
Madge sat with a sheer nightie on, her breasts pouting over the dipped neckline, her legs neatly crossed.
"I'm going to kill them."
"Who?"
"Them!" Arny shouted, jumping to his feet and wagging a finger in the direction of the Hallmans' house.
"Beth and John?" Madge put the book down; her forehead was etched with lines of concern.
"Yes. Beth and John. Those two perverts across the street who keep using us."
"You're kidding, of course."
"Hell no, I'm not kidding. I mean it, Madge." He walked over to her and sank to the floor, resting his face against her knees. "Look, baby. We're going down the tubes. You've changed. God, you've changed. So have I. All I can think about is flesh. They keep chanting it all the time, making us do things we're beginning to like. I'm having dreams at night about them. They're on top of me. Both of them. Smothering me with their bodies. At work, I sit and doodle - dirty things. I can't open my mouth without being afraid I'm going to yell - fuck. Fuck you, bitch!" He paused and pressed his lips against her cool knee. "I can't go on. I can't."
"But, Arny, the pictures. The tapes." Madge's face was tense and her hand shook as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"To hell with the pictures and tapes. I don't care anymore. All I want to do is get back at them. Look at what they've done to us, Madge. For God's sake. You're screwed up. Something's snapped in your head. You're hung up on those bastards. Can't you see what they're doing to you? Cant you?"
"All they want is our bodies, Arny. It doesn't hurt to give them that," she whined.
As she started to rise, Arny caught her by the arm and dragged her down next to him, holding her arms against the floor.
"Madge -Madge!" He pressed his face into her neck. "Open your eyes, damnit...."
"It will be over soon; they'll be tired of us, Arny. Don't worry, Arny."
"No it won't be over soon! Why the fuck don't you get it through -" His words tore at her; her fingers bit sharply into her arms.
"Arny!"
He caught the howl of pain in her voice and pushed his head into her neck again. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," he muttered. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. They were sapping him of all his strength, all his ambition.
Madge began to move under him, slowly at first so that he wouldn't notice it. It was an imperceptible movement, and unconscious one. He felt it and his heart sank. She was rubbing her breast against his chest, gently, teasing the nipple, making it stiffer and stiffer.
"No, Madge. Please, Madge. We're becoming animals."
She said nothing. She only moved, writhing against him, her legs snaking up around his waist and tugging him down into her yawning thighs.
"No, Madge. We're as bad as they are."
Her tongue snaked into his ear, licking around the conical shape, probing in against the canal. Hot flashes coursed through him.
"Madge - Madge -" His-voice trailed off as he released her hand and it slipped down to unzip his trousers.
"Fuck me, fuck me hard, John."
"Madge-don't-"
"Oh, John! Fill me with your cock, John. John-"
Trembling, Arny pulled her close, feeling her flesh mash against his. Madge had been calling him John for the last week, melting against him at the merest touch, asking him to perform the bizarre acts on her after their trysts across the street.
It was becoming worse each day, and he was falling, sinking, spiraling down with her. The desire was burning as strongly in him. But he had some fight left. And as he sank his teeth into her breast and she clutched his cock, guiding it into her warm, excited vagina, he knew he had only one thing left he could do to make up for what they had done.
Madge cradled the phone and smiled at Arny.
"They're having a party, Arny. They want us to come."
"No, we can't, Madge."
"Arny," she whined, unzipping her housecoat. "We have to. Now, don't be silly. Come on. Get dressed."
Arny eyed his wife skeptically as she slithered out of the housecoat and swung her voluptuous figure toward the bathroom. He pressed his hands against his temples as he listened to her run the water and hum a soft tune. She was hooked and he knew it. She wasn't Madge anymore, she was becoming Beth. Even her lips seemed to change, becoming fuller and more sensual like her breasts and thighs. She soaked all day in oiled water, perfuming herself with expensive fragrances, decorating the house with paintings and furniture that reflected those the Hallmans had in their home. Even though she pretended to hate Beth on the outside, Arny was sure she was using the woman as a symbol, copying and acting like her almost every moment of the day.
It was alluring and it was sickening. Arny knew that Beth and John were sick. They didn't care; they weren't human. They enjoyed dragging others down into the quagmire with them, watching them wallowing in the sin that they had so carefully constructed. He had to put a stop to it. He had to. But how? How? Kill them? He didn't think he could.
"Arny, hurry up. We'll be late. You know how Beth is about being late."
Yes, Arny knew how Beth felt about being late. But what did he feel, what did Madge feel? All they talked about anymore was what Beth and John felt. Not what they felt.
"All right, all right. I'm coming. I'm coming." Reluctantly, Arny swung up from the chair, his shoulders sloping forward, his hands dangling lifeless from his sides, and steered his frame toward the bedroom to get dressed for the party.
Madge was excited as they crossed the street to the Hallmans' house. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were limned with a pale makeup that gave her a haunting look. Although Arny hated Beth for what Madge was becoming, he couldn't help but pride himself in her presence. She had learned to be seductive and learned well.
They glanced up the street and saw four unfamiliar cars parked near the Hallmans'. Beth met them at the door, two thinks in her hand, her lips painted a scarlet red, her eyes sparkling.
"Hello, lovers, come in, take your clothes off."
They stepped into the hallway and heard the laughter and giggling rising from the basement.
Leaning forward and pressing her lips against Arny's ear, Beth whispered, "Everyone is in the Fuck Room, baby. Join them." She lanced her tongue into his ear and squeezed his penis. Uncontrollably, Arny shivered.
"Get naked, Madge," Beth laughed, placing her drink to her lips and fluttering her eyes. "The boys downstairs can hardly wait to get their hands on you."
"Oh, boy," Madge said, smiling and stepping out of her dress. She winked at Arny, oblivious to the threat caused by her willingness. Arny shivered again, this time from a sense of fear.
Nude, the couple followed Beth down the carpeted stairs to the laughter-filled room.
"Arny, Madge," John said, turning away from the pool table and extending his hand. His wide-toothed smile spread across his face as he stepped toward them, his penis flopping leisurely against his thighs.
The laughter faded as John took the couple by the arms and stood between them. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to meet two of our best friends, Arny and Madge Tillman."
Arny scanned the room and nodded his head as each of the four couples greeted them.
"Hi."
"Hello, stud."
"Beautiful body."
"Ummmm, hi."
"Wow. You're almost as good as Beth."
He shifted from one foot to the other as he soaked in the characters. They were like anyone else. One couple was on the border of obesity, another couple slim, another couple average. One pair caught his eye. The man was Mexican with, black moustache etched across his upper lip. A woman with long, black hair and almond-shaped eyes sat at his side, her brown, firm body riding and falling with each breath.
"Hello," she said slowly, letting her hand slide across the top of her dark-skinned knee.
Arny nodded.
"Senor, you have a beautiful wife," the moustached man said, standing and extending his hand. John gave them a nudge and Madge and Arny crossed the room as the chitchat grew again and the new couple melted into the group. Beth was in the comer, laughing and toasting with the obese man whose bulging stomach nearly dwarfed his small, shriveled penis.
"My name is Salvadore, and my wife's," he gesticulated toward the silent woman at his side, "is Marguerite. Pleasantly similar to yours, senora," he said taking Madge's hand and kissing the back of it. "If you do not object, senor, I would like to talk to your beautiful wife."
"No, no. Go ahead," Arny said, unable to take his eyes from Marguerite's hypnotic gaze.
"Gracias," Salvadore said, taking Madge by the arm and leading her toward a pillow pile in the corner of the room.
"Sit down, Arny," Marguerite said, her full lips pursing, her gracefully tapered hand with its delicate, long fingers beckoning him to be seated.
He eased down, his eyes roaming over her flesh. "Have you known Beth and John long?" he asked, his throat dry and his heart beating wildly. He sniffed at the fresh scent that wafted up from her skin and teased his nostrils.
"Years," she said, leaning her head back and staring at him. "Salvadore and John do business together."
"Oh," Arny looked surprised. "I thought John was independently wealthy. That he didn't have to work."
"He works." She lolled her head and let her hand rest on Arny's thigh, her fingers gently pressing at his flesh. "And he works hard, too. Don't let him fool you."
"You're very beautiful," Arny said as he watched her eyelids close halfway and her lips part slightly to reveal the pink tip of her tongue.
"Thank you."
"May I kiss you?" Arny asked, feeling like a schoolboy on his first date.
"You may do more than that," she said, reaching up and pulling his head toward hers. He felt the cool, refreshing touch of her lips against his. Her tongue danced at the opening of his mouth, lightly touching his upper and lower lips as he pressed his mouth harder on hers. "Gently," she said, pushing him away. "Love is a gentle thing."
"I'm sorry," Arny said, looking down at her brown breasts, "you have a beautiful body."
"I know. That is why I enjoy this little club. My body is something I should share, like a painting or a statue. It means nothing locked up in a room. It means everything to the public."
"Your own philosophy, or Beth and John's?" Arny asked, a bitter ring to his voice.
She laughed. "Beth and John are amateurs. They are children who think they know everything. We taught them what little they know."
Arny felt a cold wave surge through him. The innocent sensuality of the woman suddenly curdled.
"You!" he gasped.
"Certainly. Do you think they are so smart? They are stupid. I do not know why Salvadore even bothers to do business with John. Perhaps it is Beth and the new ones she brings in for him. He likes Beth. He likes your wife."
Arny glanced toward the pillows. Salvadore had Madge sitting on his chest and was sucking on her breasts, his knee shoved up between her legs as she rocked up and down on his thigh. John and the slim woman were on top of the pool table eating at each other's genitals. Beth was with the fat man, nibbling on his penis and squeezing his fat breasts as if he were a woman.
"See?"
"I see."
"Come with me," Marguerite said, standing and pulling Arny's hand. "Let's go upstairs. We can be alone."
Arny followed her, their movements unnoticed by the fornicating couples. She led the way, her dimpled ass swaying slightly, her long hair bouncing off her smooth back. Arny was confused. He had thought all along that Beth and John were the ringleaders, that they were the directors to the clutch of sin makers. But that wasn't so. They had been hooked too, like he and Madge. It was a vicious circle. He wanted to hate Marguerite. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He didn't know what he wanted anymore.
"Hurry," she said, pulling at his hand as they made their way through the living room and up the stairs toward the bedroom.
They passed a number of small rooms, one which had the door slightly ajar. Arny peeked in as they passed and glimpsed a comer of a desk and part of a filing cabinet. Marguerite tugged at him and he followed her, his eyes darting back to the official-looking room.
"You don't seem to be anxious," she said, leading him into an opulent bedroom. A large, round bed was positioned in the center of the room and Marguerite walked slowly around it.
"I am. I am. I've just never been up here before."
"That's understandable," she said, lying on the bed and pulling a satin pillow beneath her head. "This is supposed to be off limits. Secrets. Many secrets up here."
"Secrets?"
"You know, business secrets. Do you think John does anything legal?" She tossed her head and laughed. "He is a leech, sucking the blood of others. He has no brains, only an odd penis with which he is fascinated." She laughed again. "Bring me a drink from the bar, over there, by the dressing table."
Arny scanned the room, found the bar and poured her a glass of scotch.
"Thank you."
"Hmmmmm." Arny leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head.
"What is this, hmmmmmm?" she asked, sipping her drink and rolling onto her side to face him.
"John fooled me. He said he was independently wealthy. I've been admiring him for some time because of it."
"Independent." She laughed and tossed her hair so that the strands dangled down in front of her face. "He is a bum. He is supposed to sell and he lies around half the time in his bath, playing with the neighbors."
"Sell?"
"Sell. He is supposed to be a businessman. He is only a penis."
"But what is he supposed to sell? I've never seen him go anywhere. I think he just stays in the house all the time."
"Packages. Expensive little packages he receives from my husband. We brought him one tonight, but I doubt if hell sell it before our next visit. Salvadore should drop him."
"Packages? What kind."
She laughed and kissed his chest. "You ask too many questions. Get me another drink and then make love to me. Violently. I need a man, a rough man. A man who will squeeze my breasts until they ache, a man who will push my knees behind my head and ram into me so hard my back almost breaks." Passionately, she kissed him; this time her tongue eagerly searched the inside of his mouth. He returned her kiss and pulled her close, mashing her breasts against his chest until he heard her moan. He could feel the wetness of her vagina rubbing against his thigh as he shoved it between her grasping legs.
"Fuck me, Arny," she hissed, throwing her drink to the floor. "Fuck me as I have told you I want it."
Arny's lips nibbled her flesh, tenderly at first, and then more and more roughly until his teeth were nipping at her flesh, grasping it; and chewing on it. She moaned and bit his neck, her strong teeth sinking deeply into his flesh until he thought he was going to cry in pain. He bit her harder, inching toward the crowns of her breasts. He sucked in a nipple and tugged at it with his teeth until he heard her moan. Her hands fumbled for his penis, found it and began to squeeze, shoving it toward her wet orifice. She snaked her thighs around his waist and locked them tightly until Arny thought he couldn't breathe.
"Screw me. Screw me!" She arched her hips and slid the satin pillow down until it was beneath her rear. Her hands guided his penis into her and the wet lips engulfed its turgid head as she pushed it in and out. "I'll help you," she moaned, lurching up and driving the shaft deep inside her with her hands. "I'll help you fuck me."
For a moment, Arny felt like a flesh-and-blood dildo as the excited woman beneath him shoved his pole into her slippery vagina. He lay quietly, feeling her vagina contracting and relaxing as her slender fingers jacked the staff in and out in a quickening pace. He could feel the passion building in his guts and his breath coming rapidly as her mouth slid across his face, kissing his eyes, his chin, his ears, his mouth. She reached up and grabbed one cheek of his ass with her hand and pulled him against her while the other hand continued its rapid jerking.
Arny began to hump into her, grinding from side to side as he implanted his blood-filled tool farther and farther into her warm cavern. Her tongue lashed inside his mouth and he sucked on its tip, forming an O and letting it slide in and out as his penis was sliding in her vagina.
She released her grip on his penis and placed her hand on his other buttock cheek, pulling him into her as she bounced off the satin pillow. "Ummmm," she moaned sucking at his tongue. "Ummmm."
Sweat broke out over Arny's body and he grabbed her legs with his arms and bent them forward until her knees touched the bed near her head. He leaned forward with all his weight and felt the slit stretch as his pelvis smashed against hers.
"Harder! Deeper!"
He pulled out and rammed in as hard as he could. She moaned as he reached for her arms and shoved them harshly out.
"That's good. That's good." she said, wriggling her arched pelvis against his penis. "Now, suck my tits. Bite them. Suck them until they are black."
Craning his head, Arny licked at her breast until he caught the nipple between his teeth. He pressed her legs up with his shoulders and shoved her arms above her head. Her fingers were rubbing the crevice of his anus, pressing their nailed tips in against the puckered flesh of his asshole. He groaned, as he felt the finger enter, and thrust into her with such force that she cried out and bit his neck. His mouth closed hard around the nipple and he sucked it up against the roof of his mouth. She whimpered as he thrashed his cock inside her. Her legs unlocked from around his waist and she snapped them as he released his hold on them. Again and again she snapped them and each time her pussy seemed to spasm and lock itself tighter like a pair of handcuffs around his invading penis.
"Faster!" she moaned. "Faster!"
Arny's stomach knotted as he strained to ram himself deeper into her. His jaw tightened and he jackhammered into her as fast as he could. The warm, tingling sensation of his sperm working its way up from his testicles sent chills up his spine.
"God! God! God!" she shouted as he felt her legs squeeze around him and her body stiffen. Her mouth searched for his and sloppily, her lips drooling with saliva, she mashed her mouth on his and jabbed her hard tongue into his mouth as she lurched up higher and higher. His semen shot into her in a long stream and his penis jerked and coughed out every ounce of the creamy, mucilaginous fluid.
Their bodies froze in an arched position as she spasmed again and again. Finally, she slumped down, her muscles relaxing, and he felt the warm sensation of his penis softening inside her. She curled up in his arms and sighed as his penis slowly shriveled up and slid, as she coughed, out of her cavity.
"Rub my back," she cooed, her eyelids drooping.
He turned her on her back and let his hands slide over her smooth flesh. He reached around and squeezed her breast and she moaned softly. Gently, he eased his rubbing until he thought she was asleep.
"Marguerite?" he whispered. There was no answer.
Arny slipped off the bed and crept toward the bedroom door. The naked figure shifted and moaned, then fell silent.
His heart pounding, Arny eased out of the room and down the hall toward the room he had seen on his way up. He paused outside it and listened. Satisfied no one was coming, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It was a small room with a large desk positioned before the window and file cabinet standing to one side of the desk. The top of the desk was bare.
Arny opened the top drawer and pulled out a ledger. Opening it, he scanned the entries. A list of entries in the left column was marked PACKAGES, with each subsequent entry coded by number. Dates received, sold, and amounts paid were entered across the page. The prices caught Arny's eye. $50,000... $20,000... $45,000... $60,000....
Puzzled, he looked through the rest of the book and found a few names and addresses, but nothing more. He closed the book and carefully replaced it where he had found it. He tried the other drawers, finding nothing of significance except a small key sitting under a 3 x 5 metal cardfile.
Taking the key, he turned toward the file and tried one of the drawers. They were locked. He tried the key and it fit.
He opened the bottom drawer and rummaged through it, seeing nothing of interest. The middle drawer drew a blank also. The top drawer had what he was looking for, and something else he hadn't expected.
The file was filled with packages of pictures and tapes. He opened one with the name Martin written on it and saw pictures of John with a middle-aged woman in a 69 position. He pushed the envelopes back until he found the Ts. Tillman. It was there. The pictures and tapes.
Excited, he pulled the envelope out of the file and opened it. Everything was there. All the pictures, the negatives, the tape. He laid it on the desk and started to close the file when he saw it.
It looked like a bar of soap wrapped up in a shiny, metallic wrapper. He picked it up and opened it. A white powder was encased inside the wrapping in a clear plastic soap dish. He wetted his finger and tasted it. It was bitter. He looked at the desk, then back to the file, and then put the soap dish back where he had found it. He closed the file, locked it, and replaced the key. Then, he opened the bedroom window, looked out to see if anyone was about, and dropped the envelope out. He watched it fall into the bushes, safely hidden from view.
Creeping back down the hall, he entered the bedroom unnoticed and slipped next to the sleeping figure. As he touched her back with his trembling hand, she stirred.
"Ummm, been rubbing me to sleep." She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him tenderly on the lips. "Let's go downstairs and see what is happening."
Arny didn't say anything. He just nodded and squeezed her breast.
As they made their way down the stairs, they heard the gurgling sounds of couples panting and moaning and begging for more. Marguerite stood with her hands on her hips, looking around the room at the entwined couples.
"How about that. They didn't even miss us."
"Too bad." Arny smiled, thankful for that.
"Well, guess well just have to turn on ourselves." Elated, he dropped to his knees in front of her and decided he might as well celebrate. If he had it figured right, this would be his last orgy.
"But I just had you," Marguerite whined, looking around the room for an eligible penis.
"But not the real me," Arny said, licking lightly at the woman's clitoris. "You had a scared man upstairs."
She looked down at his gleaming eyes and shrugged. "You Americans are crazy."
"Fuck crazy," Arny said as he let his tongue dive into her snatch and wriggle madly. "Very fuck crazy."
He looked around the room and saw Madge sucking the fat man, saw Beth eating Salvadore's anus, saw John buggering the slender woman, saw them all as a fat cushion of flesh that was about to be fed to famished legal beasts.
"Let's fuck like we've never fucked," Arny said to Marguerite. "Let's pretend this is the last orgy in the world."
Again she shrugged. "Crazy. Crazy. But I'll go along. I always go along." She reached down and pushed his head into her V and sighed as his tongue danced merrily inside her warm hole.
"Hello, police department? Yes. Give me the narcotics division.... Hello? Yes. I can't give you my name, but I can give you some information.... No. I don't know how you follow up on this, but I think I know a man who is pushing heroin. He lives at 4465 Glenfield Ave. His name is John Hallman. The heroin and records are kept in his office on the upstairs floor. The heroin is being transferred to him by a man named Salvadore - from Mexico, I think. Good-bye."
Arny put the phone down, a smile on his face.
"Who were you calling, dear?" Madge said, coming out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her head.
"A pest service. I think we have termites. The exterminators will take care of them."
"Termites?"
"Yes - you know, those little beasts who eat away at your foundation until your house crumbles on top of you when you least expect it?"
"I haven't seen any termites?"
"You have, you just haven't recognized them."
"You're goofy, Arny. Like last night when you were creeping around outside Beth's house after we left. You must be losing your marbles."
"No, dear, I've just found them."
Two days later Madge met Arny at the door. She was out of breath.
"Arny. God, Arny. Something terrible has happened." She clutched her housecoat against her throat, her eyes wide, her nose flaring.
"Slow down, what is it?"
"Beth and John. The police came today, just about one, and drove off with them. Then I heard it on the TV."
"Heard what?" He guided her to the couch and sat her down.
"They're dope sellers. They were caught with a pound of heroin and all kinds of files about selling it to pushers. Oh, Arny, they were our friends. Now, they'll be gone for years. Locked up. What will we do?" Sobbing, she pressed her head into his shoulder.
"And what about those pictures! The police must have found them. And the ones that they'll send? Oh, Arny!" Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"First," Arny said, smiling, "forget about those pictures. If they show up, they show up and there's nothing we can do about it. Second, we can live without Beth and John. I can - can you?"
She was silent for a moment; only her soft sobs could be heard. Then: "I don't know, Arny. I depended on Beth and John. They taught us everything. I don't know. I liked them. I liked the way they did things."
Arny pushed her away and tilted her chin up.
"Now look me in the eye, young lady -" Her tear-stained eyes looked wetly at him. "- and get this straight. The only thing you liked about Beth and John was sex. That was only because you never had any idea what it was all about. Neither did I, for that matter."
He paused and kissed her tenderly on the nose.
"Their kind of sex is wrong. You don't have to force sex on anyone. You don't have to swap mates to enjoy sex -if you use your imagination."
He kissed her eyes, tasting the salty tears.
"Now, we can have a good life together having sex any way we please. We can dress up like different people. I can wear a fake moustache and beard. You can doll up like a floozy or a nun. We can rape each other. We can use phony accents and play games like we're other people. We can do anything we want to ourselves. We don't have to go looking for sex. We're filled with sex. At least we both learned that from those perverts across the street."
He kissed her cheeks and smoothed her hair.
"Madge, I don't want to live a reckless life with other women, I don't want to watch another man make love to you. I don't want to screw another woman just for kicks. I want you. I want us."
He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear: "We can have our private love, our private sex our private way. Can you forget them? Can you, Madge? Can you love me and start fresh, without any mistakes?"
She squeezed him. "I - I think so, Arny. I'll need help. I'll need a lot of help."
"I'll help," Arny said, pushing her down onto the couch and kissing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. "I'll help every inch of your lovely body."
As Madge moaned under his caress, Arny felt a new tingling sensation seeping throughout himself. It was the sensation a man feels when he finds something he's been looking for all his life.
Delving his tongue into her vagina, Arny knew what he had found. He had found his wife. And he was sure they'd pull through together, no matter.