Chapter 5
IT WAS five minutes of eight when I arrived AT Diana's apartment, and Zimmer was already there. It was at this meeting, incidentally, that I learned his first name. It was Hugo.
He had dressed up for the occasion, in a medium-dark suit and tie, but his clothes still managed to look nondescript and somewhat too lived-in. He was a drab individual, and yet you had the impression that beneath the drabness there was an active mind-a mind perhaps too active in ways most people would find obscure.
We signed the partnership agreement and Zimmer handed over his check. Then, at Diana's invitation, we toasted our new relationship with snifters of brandy.
I had been observing her attitude toward the man. and it was plain to see that she didn't like him. She was the sort who made her feelings plain. An honest person. I decided. A good person. I felt a slight twinge over the way I had cheated on her that evening.
While it was true that we hadn't exchanged love pledges, I knew Diana took it for granted that I was hers and she was mine. That was, I believed, the only way she would have had it. She wasn't loose sexually.
I, on the other hand, had never remained tied down to one woman for long. I preferred to be free all the time. It seemed to me that there were too many flowers blooming in the fields for a guy to pick one, put a vase around it, and spend the rest of his life admiring it alone.
I was afraid, right from the beginning, that the difference in our attitudes would spell trouble. But I was determined to take the chance. After all, I was a gambler and there was too big a potential prize at stake for me to pass it up.
I wasn't thinking only about the business we were going to derive through Zimmer. I had ideas of my own to try which, I felt, would prove to be even more profitable in the long run.
In watching Zimmer and Diana together, I was struck by something which was equally as clear as Diana's dislike for the man, and that was his attraction to her. He kept eyeing her in that special way of his, his gaze shifting every once in a while from her face down to her gigantic breasts.
As I sipped my brandy, I told myself that we were a threesome who were headed for trouble, just as surely as God had put a serpent in the Garden of Eden.
Later, after Zimmer had bid us good night, Diana said, "I can't get over the feeling that we've made a mistake, Jack. He isn't our kind. I know it."
"We'll make a good boy out of him," I said. "Re member, it's going to be our two votes to his one."
"But we've given him an okay on the prostitution thing."
"That's not in the partnership contract," I pointed out.
"I know that," she said, "but it was certainly understood. If we tried to go back on it now...."
"I don't say we should go back on it," I told her, "but we do have a right to reconsider our decision if things don't work out as cleanly as Zimmer said they would."
"He'd be fit to be tied," she said. "And I'll bet he's a vicious man to cross."
"You think so?"
"He's hard, Jack. I wouldn't be surprised if his heart was a chunk of concrete."
I laughed. "Don't dramatize."
She took out a cigarette and I lit it for her.
After she had expelled a plume of smoke, she asked me, "Do you have any idea how he's going to get the girls to run this operation of his?"
I shook my head. "He didn't tell me. He just said not to worry, that he had a way."
"He looks like a white slaver to me," she remarked.
"White slavery went out with nickel beers and high-button shoes," I told her. "Nowadays girls do it because they want to, or so I've heard."
"Just the same, I think the man's capable of anything." She seemed almost to shudder.
"You really hate him, don't you?"
"Yes. And it's strange, too, because he's never laid a hand on me and never uttered an improper word.
But he has a certain look about him."
"I know what you mean," I said.
Diana suddenly brightened, which warned me she was about to change the subject. "Well, how did your dinner meeting go tonight?"
"All right," I said. "I told the guy I'd lined up something far better than the deal he'd offered me. So that was it."
"You had to go to dinner with him to tell him that?" Diana pressed.
"I didn't want to be abrupt about it. He's done me some favors in the past."
"I see."
She got up from her chair and walked over to me, plumping down on my lap. "Well, we're together now, anyway. And we have the whole night ahead of us. So, let's start making up for lost time, hmm?"
Diana wasn't wearing a girdle that evening. I could tell by the soft way in which her more-than-ample buttocks molded themselves to the straight contours of my thighs.
I'd spent the last two nights in Diana's apartment-and, for the most part, with Diana, also-and it was now clear that she expected this night to be a repeat performance. It was almost as if we were a pair of newlyweds.
But her desire this evening posed a very definite problem. For me, that is. I had already gone the passion route twice that night, and at the moment, I was in no condition for another trip.
Could I just up and tell her, "Sorry, love, but I'm too bushed to bounce you on the mattress," and expect her to smile sweetly and understand? I was afraid not.
The fact that I'd been away from her for several hours had already given her some cause for concern, I knew. I certainly didn't want to add any fuel to the fire of her doubt.
So, what to do?
Well, it was just a matter of ingenuity. I would be good for one bout with her, I figured. But not quite yet. And when we had that one, I wanted her to be satisfied with it and to fall asleep.
I began in a more or less conventional way: I opened the top of her dress, slipped it off her shoulders and down her arms, then unfastened and removed her brassiere.
The fruit of her chest hung there in front of my face. It was round and ripe and heavy. Even as thoroughly satisfied as I had been that evening, it did something to me. But nothing externally discernible, as yet.
I lifted one lush plump globe in each hand and examined the wide aureoles which capped their front surfaces. They were aureoles to reckon with-almost the size of silver dollars, rusty-red and crinkled. I began to stroke them with my thumbs.
"Oh, Jack-eeee...." Diana murmured, closing her eyes and soaking in the feeling.
I avoided touching her nipples, but concentrated my caressing on the wide rings around them. I slowly circled each nub, rubbing first with my thumb and then with the tip of my forefinger. The nipples began to respond, even though I hadn't touched them directly. As I watched, they slowly came to life, growing and fattening.
I gripped her breasts in my hands, or as much of them as I could hold, and waggled them. The swelling nipples bobbed.
"Kiss them," Diana said. "They ache to have you kiss them."
"Mmm," I said and moved my face nearer. But, instead of kissing, I rubbed the hardening lips with my nose.
"Jack, don't tease me!" Diana said petulantly. "Go on now," I responded. "You like being teased."
"Well ... maybe a little. But please kiss my nipples now."
It was a sweet invitation-no doubt about it but I didn't want to proceed too fast. A long night lay ahead of us, and I had to get through it on a minimum of exertion. So I continued merely to nuzzle her boobs with my face and to put off the pleasure of taking her nipples directly to my mouth.
Finally Diana became very anxious and she grasped a big full-to-bursting breast in each hand. At the same time, she moved her shoulders this way and that, trying to place the nozzle of first one booby and then the other right where she wanted it to be. I evaded her maneuvers skillfully and enjoyed, at the same time, the way her breasts responded when she lifted them and squeezed them and pressed them this way and that. They were beautiful, big, yielding balls of flesh, tipped aggressively in scarlet. The nipples were now straining outward-as big and fat and tall as they could get. The lighter colored redness around them had puckered up and, all in all, they presented a twin display of titillation that was extremely hard to ignore.
I wasn't ignoring it. I was enjoying the sight very much. But I was restraining myself, as far as any immediate action was concerned. As I said before, there was a long night ahead.
"What's the matter, darling?" Diana finally murmured, still holding her breasts out and upward but having given up the attempt to move one of them into my mouth. "Don't they look good to you tonight?"
"They look terrific!" I husked.
"Then take one."
I reached for one breast with both of my hands and Diana transferred it from her fingers to mine. I moved my face closer and lifted it toward my lips.
She was breathing hard. "Well?"
"It's so good," I said, "I want to postpone the moment as long as possible-just enjoy the anticipation of it."
"Are my breasts really that good?" she asked. "You don't think they're too fat?"
"They're not fat at all," I lied. "They're nicely full and rounded." Well, that last was true enough.
"Do men like them so big-I mean, really?"
"Men like them big," I told her.
"And the nipples? Are they too big?"
"They're just right."
"Then prove it, Jack. Take that one. Take it, please." And with that she shoved it at me.
I could have pulled my head back, of course. But, what the hell, I'm not made of stone. Speaking of that, one part of me was already giving evidence that it might actually be made of something just about that solid. Still, however, I wanted to take my time. One round was all we were going to have, and I wanted to make it a climactic one. I had learned from experience that Diana's sexual appetite was not too easily satisfied.
But I did open my mouth and I took the nipple she was shoving at me. I held it gently but firmly, my lips against the fullness of the boob and my teeth upon her aureole. The flat of my tongue pressed upward against the firmly extended nipple-tip and every once in a while moved up and down across it, flicking it a few times before I let it settle on top of my tongue again.
Diana shuddered and said, "Oohhhhh...."
She was like most women with big breasts. She responded mightily when they were sucked. I was responding mightily, also, and I knew that she was aware of it, sitting on my lap as she was.
I released booby number one and turned my attention to booby number two. It came in for the very same treatment I'd given its twin.
Diana had been holding me first around the back and then at the back of the head, in order to press my mouth more firmly against her, but finally she moved her hands downward and to me. I throbbed.
This would never do, I decided. She was bringing me along too quickly. So I pulled my mouth from her breast. As it bobbled, glistening in freedom, I took a firm grip around Diana's back and underthighs and I stood up.
With me holding her that way, and her holding me the way she was, we headed for the bedroom. There, in the dim light, I dropped her in the middle of the bed.
Now, that's quite a sight in itself-a big, plump, king-sized brunette with meaty thighs and huge knockers, bouncing happily on an innerspring mattress. The sight is especially good when the huge knockers are as bare as they can be and when the meaty thighs have little more on them than a pair of stockings, since her skirt had pulled delightfully high. I decided to get undressed.
As soon as I had accomplished that, I stepped to the bed where Diana lay smoldering. I stripped her of her dress immediately, and then did the same with her half slip.
She wore panties that were brief and silken pink. I grasped them around the top and pulled them down-out from under her large buttocks, which she had raised slightly to help me, and down her firm, fullfleshed thighs. The panties turned inside out as I drew them to her knees. I continued, pulling them down her calves, past her ankles and over her feet, knocking her black pumps off at the same time.
I bent over her and unfastened each of her garters, while all of her wonderful enticing loveliness twisted and squirmed right beneath my lips and eyes. Then I slowly drew her stockings down. One. Two. I tossed them away.
As I was doing that, Diana had been wriggling out of her garter belt, so that now both she and I were as naked as sin.
I went to her.
I was primed for action by that time, of course. I could have driven into the final act of the drama without any difficulty whatsoever. But I still wanted to take my time and save the best for last.
So I positioned myself beside Diana on my knees-my knees beside her knees, more or less-and I bent forward to plant my mouth in the approximate vicinity of her navel. It was soft there. Man, was it soft! I let my tongue move against her.
As I did that, I moved against her in another way a little farther to the south.
"Oh!" she cried out as my fingers pressed against her.
I stroked and fondled here, moving deliberately and deftly-exciting her greatly, I knew. Her hips were rolling and thrusting upward, performing an imitation of the ultimate act itself. In a way, I was performing an imitation of the ultimate act, too. It's a matter of placement and of friction. In these latter respects, I was loving Diana as utterly and as excitingly as if I had been fully with her.
And she was responding in the same way.
She hadn't even bothered to reach for me as I made digital love to her. She was being too thoroughly thrilled to do anything except to move her hips and squirm and moan and twist her legs this way and that.
I kept going.
And suddenly I knew that she was at the apex. She cried out, thrusting rigidly upward and then going humidly soft. And just as this happened, I dropped my face to capture and lift into my mouth one of the glorious, high, sprouting buds of her bosom.
"Oh, God, oh God, oh God...." she said, the final tone dying slowly away.
"You liked it?" I whispered, my lips now nibbling at her ear.
"It was wonderful," she replied, rubbing her hands up and down my back.
Well, I thought, that took care of act one.
The only trouble, of course, was that my own lust was still at the ready. But it would just have to wait its turn, I decided, and I rolled onto my back.
Diana remained quiet for a long while. Then, softly, I felt her fingers find me. By then my passion had subsided.
"You, too?" she asked.
I said, "Don't be silly."
She lifted herself on an elbow and looked at me. "Then why didn't...."
"I thought you'd enjoy it that way." I grinned. "You did, didn't you?"
"You're a wonderful lover," she murmured and pressed her face to mine. Her mouth was very sweet and very moist, and warm and soft and open.
I extricated myself from her embrace as soon as possible and got up. "We need some more brandy," I said. And, with that, I plodded nakedly into the living room.
I brought back the bottle and a pair of snifters. I poured.
We sat on the bed, still naked, and we sipped and talked.
Strangely enough, we got to talking business. I out-lined to her, more fully than I had before, some of the plans I had in mind. She expressed no opposition to any of them. It was clear that I was going to have things pretty much my own way as far as development of the sight-seeing company was concerned.
Diana had obviously been in need of someone just like me. Her need had been two-fold and equally intense in each direction.
Several drinks later, business began to lose its hold on our interest. Money business, that is. What might whimsically have been called monkey business came to the fore again.
Act two was about to start.
I began it by kissing Diana's ankles. Now, you may think that ankles are among the least attractive portions of a woman's anatomy to kiss, and perhaps you're right. But don't forget that the ankles are attached to the calves which, in turn, are attached to the knees, and that the knees adjoin the thighs.
A woman's thighs are definitely not among the least attractive kissing regions. This was particularly true of Diana's thighs, for they were long and full and delectably soft and smooth.
Also, a woman's thighs are among the most sensitive portions of her body.
I took my time reaching them.
First I covered her ankles and calves most thoroughly. I kissed along the smooth straight tops of her calves and then lifted her legs in turn and moved my teasing lips along their gently curving undersides. I pressed my mouth against the hollows at the backs of her knees.
Diana was flexing her legs by this time and exhorting me to a more positive demonstration of passion. She began to use the naughty words she always reverted to when she was very excited. I answered her in kind.
As this exchange went on, I gently parted her legs and crawled between them.
The trouble with lots of guys when they get to this point in the proceedings is that the view blinds them with lust and they become overanxious, thereby losing out on some of the delights to be experienced if a man will only take his time.
I took mine because I had plenty of it that night.
I kissed up and down Diana's thighs with a thoroughness which she may very well have never experienced before. She kept talking to me all the while, indulging in flights of fancy concerning what was going to happen next and describing the anticipated activities in blunt but very colorful terms. It was pretty much of a monologue, however, because at that point my mouth was well occupied.
Diana seemed most appreciative and vocally responsive when I captured little bits of her thigh-flesh between my lips and teeth and nibbled it ... and also when I trailed my tongue-tip up and down.
Eventually her hands found their way into my hair and around the back of my head, and she began pulling at me. I went along.
Diana was a different sort of person than Eleanor Tilson, and for that reason I didn't hesitate to do what Diana most desperately wanted me to do at that moment. I kissed her deeply and lingeringly and with animated passion. It was good. In fact, at that moment I most thoroughly enjoyed it. If that makes me an oddball in your eyes, then so be it. I know what I like and right then I liked what I was doing very much.
That Diana liked it even more than did I had no doubt. She was wriggling and twisting and thrusting herself at me in wild abandon, talking and gasping and pulling at my hair. , I took a long time with it, seeking to bring her almost to a state of culmination, but not quite.
When I sensed that the crucial time had arrived I took the final position and forged my way fully into the wondrous soft warmth I'd been denying myself for so long. Diana welcomed me with a moaning sigh of pleasure and she wrapped me immediately in her enfolding limbs.
A few long sliding jolts was all it took to force her over the top. But I was just beginning.
So, to act three:
I moved in a slow deliberate rhythm-long, highly placed, looping forward and back. At first, she seemed to be immune, totally unresponsive, lingering at the portal of sleep.
But, gradually, she came to life.
A few minutes later she was fully with me, moving her hips as she had done before, furrowing my back with the pointed tips of her nails. I kept driving at her-still in long, slow, steady strokes. But I could sense fulfillment beckoning from a far horizon.
I began pounding harder and shorter. Diana responded perfectly, coming along.
We were in the heat of it in a very few minutes for the topmost passion prize.
When we reached it, it was as if we were in the teeth of a tropical gale, with the most awesome force of nature beating at us from all sides-lifting us, hurling us, sending us soaring.
We settled in the eye of the hurricane and fell downward to slip beneath the surface of a soft, still sea.
I rose from Diana's motionless form and walked into the living room, where I set the lock on the door and turned out the lights. Then I retraced my steps to the bedroom, feeling my way carefully from one article of furniture to the next. I found the bottle of brandy where I had left it beside the bed and tilted it to my mouth. All that remained in the bottle was a single, long, satisfying drink.
When I'd emptied the bottle, I dropped it on the rug. Then I stretched out on the bed beside the woman whom I had carried through three phases of the most intense physical passion. She didn't stir. I listened carefully and detected the soft, even sounds of her deep breathing. She was, quite understandably, fast asleep.
In another couple of minutes I found sleep, also, and neither of us had our dreams disturbed that night.