Chapter 3
After he left the office building, Harry Fields stopped off at a small cocktail lounge on Twenty Third Street, on the way to his apartment, to drink things over. He was still amazed by the thing that had happened, tonight. God, that boss woman of his, Lena Troy, had been something. He could hardly believe it; it seemed almost like a dream, now that he was away from her. But then memory of her savagely voluptuous body sent a wave of heat through him, swelling his veins and he wanted to run back there, take her on again.
True, he told himself, sipping a martini, it had been too short but sweet but it had made up in quality what it had lacked in quantity. He had never had a woman quite shake him up, so. He figured that was what happened when a woman of Lena Troy's type finally let themselves go. He wondered if it would ever happen again, how it would affect his job. Maybe she'd be embarrassed to have him around now, would try to figure some way to get rid of him. But then again, maybe now, she'd want him around, in case the mood came on her again. He wished there was some way he could capitalize on the experience.
Hey, he thought to himself, suppose I got her pregnant; wouldn't that be something? And had to many her! He. thought about it; the broad must be worth a quarter million, maybe more. As her husband, he'd also be a partner in Helena Troy, Inc. The way business was going this year, the company would show another quarter of a million profit for the year. i
He ordered another drink and when Felix, the bartender, a distinguished looking, gray-haired, middle aged man, with a sensitive, intelligent face, came over to get his glass. Harry said:
"Felix, my good man, you're a smart cookie, self educated, I've heard, beyond most college graduates, even, so tell me something. You know anything about the psychology of sex?"
The lean, handsome bartender studied him for a moment, then quietly said: "You mean abnormal psychology."
"Well, could be?"
Felix shrugged. "I know a little, Harry. What's your problem?" He gave a quick, sardonic grin.
Harry Fields winced. "Not mine, you jerk. Listen, do dames get all excited, seeing something well, you know, sexy like, seeing somebody else doin' it? I mean like a man does?"
The bartender pursed his lips, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. I suppose it would arouse some degree of excitement. Although I've read that women are not as readily stimulated by visual stimuli as men are. What I mean is that, ordinarily, you show a picture of a handsome naked man to a woman and she'll be curious and perhaps a little aroused, but not the same degree that a man would be, similarly, by a picture of a beautiful naked woman. To give you an example, there is a term for voyeurs Peeping Toms. You've never heard of a Peeping Thomasina, have you? I've never heard of a woman being picked up by the police on such a charge; yet it happens frequently to men. So I would suspect that it would be pretty rare for a woman to get her kicks that way. That answer your question?"
Hurry frowned. "Well, yeah. But suppose I told you I know a dame goes wild with desire only when she first watches something like that let's say even if she sees two lezzies going at it, is that possible?"
"Anything is possible. Although I've never heard of it. Hut I suppose it could be with a woman that her sexual emotions could be triggered by sutch a thing. It would definitely have to be an aberration, of course. Especially if that was the only thing that could get her aroused. Is that what you mean?"
Harry Fields sipped at his martini and grinned, musingly, at the bartender. "Yeah," he said, dreamily. "Maybe it is. Just maybe it is."
Hey, he thought to himself, wouldn't that be something, if Lena Troy is some kind of a kook like that and the only time she wants a man is when she gets excited by seeing other people having a good time? I'd really have her all wrapped up in my hip pocket, if I'm the only one who knows that.
He finished his drink and continued on to his apartment. When he went in, he found Corinne, the little blonde from next door, sprawled out on the floor of his living room, watching TV. She was lying face down and although she was basically a very slim girl, she had a surprisingly developed derriere. Its plump twin rounds rose steeply and invitingly, clearly outlined beneath the skintight capris she wore. As she arched the top of her body up to look around at him, the hollow of her back was deepened, accentuating even more the pouting plumpness of her amazing buttocks.
Corinne had a cute, doll-like face, with kind of blank pale blue eyes. She had a whiney little voice: "How come you're so late getting home, Harry?"
He stood over her, looking down at her, marveling as he always did, at the arrogant protuberance of that amazing behind.
"Why'n't you make yourself at home, Corinne?" he said.
She pouted her moist red lips. "Well, you give me a key so's I can come in and watch TV whenever I want to, account of I don't have one."
"Yeah," he said. "I'm always doing stupid things like that."
"That ain't what you said, the way you acted last tune you came home and found me here," she complained. "What re you mad about, Harry?"
"I'm not mad," he said. "Only you just don't send me, tonight. You see, I already got laid."
The shock effect he'd intended didn't work. Instead, she was just curious. "You did? Who with?"
"With whom, stupid," he corrected.
"All right, with whom with, then?"
"My boss," he told her, coolly. "It was great, too. She really tore me up."
She giggled like a small child. "Oh, Harry, you're so funny, funny." She rolled over on her back so that her small, pointy breasts could be seen, braless, pricking at the front cloth of her blouse. Between giggles, she went on: "Oh, that's so funny. Your boss! Oh, Harry! Miss Troy, your boss, that cold cucumber, oh, you're so funny!"
"You see," he said, "you tell the truth and nobody believes you." Which was what he had figured or he never would have blurted out the information.
Abruptly, Corinne stopped giggling. Her big, baby blue eyes stared up at Harry speculatively. Her lips were still pouting. "You really don't want me here, do you?"
He stared back coldly at her. "You catch on quick, don't you?"
"Why, Harry?"
"I don't owe you any explanations. You came over here uninvited, didn't you?"
"Well, sure, but I'd like to know what's the matter? You tired of me, already? Golly, you've only known me a couple of weeks."
She seemed so genuinely hurt, Harry relented a little. Besides, if that was just a freak thing with Lena Troy and he never scored again, it was pretty handy to have a little sexpot like Corinne so readily available. He reached down and tousled her short cut, soft blonde hair.
"Ah, Baby, I'm just tired and grouchy, I guess. Worked late tonight and had a lot of problems all day. Say; how'd you like to fix a quick dinner for me, while I shower and relax with a drink There's a couple of Spencer's in the frig and some lettuce and tomatoes and dressing. Okay?"
She jumped to her feet with the alacrity of a child, said: "Sure, hon. You go ahead."
As she headed for the kitchen, Harry helped her on her way with a hard but playful spank to her bottom. She paused, looked back over her shoulder and down at herself as she reached back and soothed her handsome backside, jutting out even more pronouncedly and straining at the cloth of the capris, in that awkward position.
"Ooooh, you meanie! That smarts!" she said, reprovingly. But her eyes glowed invitingly, at the same time. "Just for that, I won't give you any, later."
He grinned. "Just for that, I'll take it!"
She tossed her head, glanced back, archly. "Hah! Think you're man enough?"
He made a token gesture of starting after her and she ran, squealing in protest, out to the kitchen. Harry yanked off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and poured himself a quick, very dry martini from his portable bar. He took several fast sips and then carried the drink into the bathroom with him. He took a leisurely shower, put on a robe and went back out into the living room. He watched a TV quiz show while he finished that drink and another one. By that time, Corinne had the steaks and salad ready.
While they ate, Corinne chittered about irrelevancies and Harry Fields paid little attention, except to grunt in occasional vague acknowledgment. He was busy again, thinking about Lena Troy and the bonfire bundle of passion she had become there in the office. As he finished dinner and sipped a pony of brandy, remembering his session with Lena, he slowly became aroused and soon found himself staring at the points of Corinne's small, unfettered breasts, poking out the cloth of her blouse.
When she got up to take the dishes to the sink, he watched the tight, rolling motion of her unbelievably round and jutting fanny, under the revealing capris, which were so tight you could even see the edge of her panties limned under the cloth; which excited him all the more.
As she started to wash the dishes, Harry said: "Forget 'em for now."
She turned. "Forget what?"
"The dishes, you jerk. Come on. Hurry up. Go in the bedroom and when you come out, be wearing that little kitchen apron you've got on and nothing else except a pair of high heel shoes you'll probably find a pair of your size in the closet."
Her eyes looked at him, knowingly, serious and her tiny red tongue came out and flicked over her lips, moistening them. She became a little flushed and the points of her breasts became more noticeable through the blouse.
"All right, Harry," she said, softly.
When she left the kitchen, Harry poured himself another brandy and then went out in the living room, lowered himself into an easy chair. His heart began pounding in anticipation as he waited for Corinne to come back. She was only a few minutes.
She came out of the bedroom, with a sheepish look on her doll-like face. She was wearing nothing but the brief kitchen apron and the black patent leather high heel pumps. They weren't ordinary shoes. The heels were a good five inches high, specially made and reinforced with steel. To stand in them, Corinne had to arch her back somewhat. The position tautened the muscles of her thighs, making them look hard and smooth as marble, below the brief apron. The heels, too, made her legs look abnormally long and shapely.
"I feel kind of silly, Harry," she whispered.
He stared at her small breasts, not much larger than halves of oranges, child-like, except for the distended, pale pink hippies, as long as the tip of your finger.
"Never mind," he said huskily. "You look adorable." He pointed to a small feather duster on a nearby table. "Take that duster and go around the room, dusting things off starting with the top row of books on the book shelf."
She frowned, puzzled. "Does that give you lacks, Harry?"
"Yeah. Sometimes. Get going."
She did as she was told, tottering on the high heels, over to pick up the duster and then moved toward the bookcase. Harry Fields admired the rear view of her. Walking on the spiked heels accentuated more than ever the rolling, clenching plumpness of her jutting, high set, moon-round haunches. The deeply divided domes of saucy flesh were taut and baby-smooth, with a slightly rosy glow to them. Harry feasted his eyes; he thought that he could never get enough of looking at that adorable bottom.
He watched her reach up to dust the top shelf of books and the arching out of her buttocks became even more pronounced. As she half turned, the side view was superb, too, the small but well fleshed little breasts hobbling and jiggling provocatively.
As she worked, Harry said: "Corinne, tell me about that guy on the subway, again."
She looked around at him, again. "Which one?"
"You know. The one that was standing behind you, got all excited."
"Oh," she gasped, continuing to dust. "Oh, him! Oh, he was just awful, Harry. I've never been so embarrassed in my life."
"Okay, so tell me about it." He watched her bend over, now, her back to him, as she dusted a lower shelf. He could hardly restrain himself from running to her. Jeeze, but he had never seen such a beautiful fanny. She half turned around, then, squatting. A fold of the apron was caught high up between her thighs, tantalizingly preventing a more intimate view.
"Well," she said, a little breathlessly. "It was the rush hour and I've never seen the subway so crowded. You couldn't budge, even. Anyhow, all of a sudden I became aware of someone pushing up against me from behind. In a few seconds, of course, I knew it was a man and I also knew he was terribly excited. It was the strangest sensation."
"So what did you do?"
"I tried to move, to get away, but it was impossible. Then he began pressing harder and harder. You have no idea what it was like, Harry a strange man I'd never seen before in my life, right there in public, right in the middle of all those people, doing that to me."
"Doing what, Corinne."
"You know well pressing and moving and practically well ijou know."
"Where?" Harry said, his voice strained with excitement. "I mean what part of you was he doing this to?"
She turned sideways and jutted out her bare splendid rear architecture. "Back here." She reached back and slapped herself lightly. "And I mean he was really having himself a time."
"I'll bet he was. I'll bet he never had one like that before. You've really got it back there, baby; you have no idea."
"Well, he certainly seemed to enjoy it. First thing I knew, he took hold of both my hips, holding me, steadying me I guess because he was pushing so hard now, he was afraid I'd be thrown off balance. Oh, it was awful, Harry. I could have died."
"What else did he do?"
"Pretty soon, he was breathing awfully hard, gasping, almost and then I felt one of his hands leave my hip and it slid up under my blouse. I well I wanted to stop him; I tried but the crowd was jammed so close, my arms were pinned at my sides. I was helpless, Harry. Just as though I was bound with ropes or chains. I I had to let him."
"Let him what?"
"You know, with his hand under my blouse. Because it was so awfully hot and because I'm not so big that I need one, anyhow, I wasn't wearing any bra. So in a moment, there was that big rough hand of his right on my bare breast, just a squeezin' and feelin' and playin' with the nipple and all the time, he was still rammin' against me and "
"Oh, honey!" Harry gasped. He stood up and shrugged out of his robe and started toward her.
She turned and saw him and exclaimed: "Harry! You're naked! Oh, Lordy, look at that!"
"Shut up," he commanded, "and turn around and keep dusting those books."
When she did as he ordered, he came up behind her. He moved in close, carefully placed himself behind her and she let out a little cry of surprised delight. He reached around her and firmly cupped a saucy little moundlet, firmly squeezing, his fingers rubbing and then gently plucking at the long, tender aroused nipple.
"Like this?" he breathed. "Is this what he was doing?"
"YesI Oh, yes, Harry! Except except that he had clothes on, of course and so did I."
"Suppose you hadn't? This is what it would have been like, wouldn't it?"
"Y-y-yes, I I guess so." She was involuntarily pressing back against him, now, her back arched, forcing the swelling of her throbbing breast tighter into his fondling hand.
"Did you think about that?" he demanded.
"What?"
"What it would have been like if you were both undressed."
"Uh-uh," he said. "I I was so nervous I couldn't think about anything."
"But once he got going, you really didn't mind too much, did you? It was sort of kicks, wasn't it? Don't lie to me, Corinne. I've heard that a lot of women kind of enjoy it when a man does that to them in a crowd."
"I I don't know," she protested. "I guess maybe just a little. It's so bold of them, so unexpected and a woman feels so helpless. I guess after awhile you just sort of give up and figure well, since it's happening, you might as well get some kicks, too."
"So what finally happened?" Harry gasped.
"Oh, he just suddenly pressed in tighter than ever and stopped moving and just stayed there and let out a series of groans. Then the train came to a station and he just suddenly twisted away and pushed through the crowd and was gone. I never even saw what he looked like."
"Would that have made any difference?"
"Well, naturally, I guess you figure if it's got to be, it wouldn't be quite so bad if the guy was young and handsome."
He suddenly spun her around facing him and his hands filled with the smooth, round, resilient flesh of her jutting buttocks; his fingers dug into them as he arched her against him. He bent his head and his tongue darted around and about and onto her long, stiffened nipples and then his lips encircled them, nibbled on the tender, rubbery protrusions. Her head was thrown back, now, her eyes closed, her wet and shining red mouth slightly opened. She writhed and twisted and arched against him, murmuring: "Oh, Harry! Oh, Harry, darling, you're so kookie but so wonderful, you get me half crazy! Oh, don't tease me much longer, baby!"
He moved away from her, then, his eyes a little wild. "That's because you're such a little nympho slut!" he said, suddenly, savagely. "And I'm going to whip that beautiful butt of yours, for being that way!"
She pretended to wince and huddled, frightened. "No! Oh, no, Harry!" she whimpered. But her eyes were glazed and there was a note of excited anticipation in her voice.
He grabbed her arm and yanked her roughly toward a great three-foot-square satin covered pillow on the floor in the center of the room. He slung her down on it, face down, slid her forward until her hips and belly were centered, elevating her ripely round hind quarters. Then he knelt and raised his hand and brought it palm-down in a stinging whack that brought a wail of anguish from Corinne. The impact against the hard firm plumpness of those thrusting moons was so solid it hurt Harry's hand.
Cursing, Harry got up and grabbed a hair brush from the table. He used that, then, not swinging quite so hard, just enough to sting smartly and rosy-up the tender flesh, his arm rising and falling rapidly as Corinne cried out and twisted and squirmed on the big soft pillow, while his other hand pushed down in the hollow of her back, holding her there.
When he finally stopped, her hips arched and thrust backward, offering that round, rosy red target, as though begging for more.
That was when Harry tossed the brush aside and straddled her and eased slowly down. When intimate contact was made, both of them let out little groans of delight. Corinne wriggled her bottom ecstatically, momentarily preventing Harry from reaching his goal. This merely goaded him on to more determined efforts and a few moments later he thrust and surged and with a wild wail Corinne collapsed on the pillow, Harry's full weight now bearing her down. Her own hips began to move then, in perfect counterpoint to his rhythms, faster and faster and soon the room was ringing with their sounds of love-making until both of them were swept up on a curling, cresting wave that finally broke, shatteringly, achieving utter fulfillment for them both...
Later, Corinne got Harry a cigarette and fixed him a drink and sat at his feet and looked up at him, adoringly.
"Gee, honey," she purred. "I've never had anyone give me such a good time. You seem to know everything I like. I'm just crazy about you, Harry. I'd do anything for you."
He looked down at her speculatively. "Anything? You mean that?"
She nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Just remember that, then. I might take you up on it" Harry Fields was beginning to get an idea how Corinne might be useful, if it became necessary, in his efforts to put the make on Lena Troy again.