Chapter 5
Harry Fields was a man of infinite patience. For a long time he had been dreaming of the big time, of real money He knew that he had gone about as far as he could go on his own limited abilities and background. That wasn't far enough. Harry Fields wanted the big eight thousand dollar convertibles; the estate in Pound Ridge or some equally expensive status-type neighborhood; the winters in Miami or Nassau, the summers in Bar Harbor. He wanted the $500 a throw call girls; a box at the races, maybe even his own private plane with some flunky to fly it for him, while he entertained some sky-happy broad in the cabin.
He wanted the kind of things that required a quarter of a million dollars a year. He had a hunch, a basic intuition that this was in his reach if he could capitalize on his affair with Lena Troy, the other night He did not yet take her seriously, her rebuff of this afternoon. He had to make a test under the right conditions, perhaps two or three, before he would accept failure.
His first step in that direction, was to line up the proper cast. It didn't take him long to get the female lead. Corinne gave him some resistance for awhile; he'd expected that. But then he broke her down.
"You're crazy, Harry," she told him at first "I like you a lot. I'd do almost anything for you, but that's asking too much."
"Why?" he demanded.
With some strange guy I've never even met? What kind of a girl do you think I am?"
He didn't tell her. Instead, he said: "What difference does that make. I tell you, he's a big, husky, nice looking guy. You'll like him. As a matter-of-fact, I'm even a little leery that I might even lose you to him. He's really something."
Corinne's interest was piqued a little. "Honest, Harry? You wouldn't kid me, would you? You sure it ain't some old creep? I can't stand doing it with some wrinkled old man."
"Of course not. The guy's young, virile. It should he a ball. Anyhow, even if you don't like him, too much, what's the difference? You can put on an act, can't you? How long will it take, an hour or so, that's all. I'm asking you to give up an hour of your time for me, as a big favor, as an important thing for me that might change my whole life, make me rich make us both rich, even."
"Who is he, Harry?"
"I told you, I can't tell you that. All I can tell you is that the biggest business deal of my life depends on it. Believe me. Listen, if this goes through, you and me'll have it made. We'll take luxury ocean cruises on big ocean liners. I'll take you to Paris, Rome, the Orient. Wouldn't you like to be a rich guy's broad?"
"Of course, Harry." Then, with intuitive shrewdness. "But are you sure all that'll happen, you ain't just using me, Harry and then when I've done you this big favor, you'll give me the ditch?"
He waved his hand disgustedly. "Oh, for Christ's sake, if you think something like that about me, forget it, will you. The hell with it. I can get some other girl. I know lots of em would just jump at this chance. I'm trying to give you a break, that's all."
That did it. She flung her arms around Harry's neck and whimpering a little bit, finally agreed.
Picking the right man was kind of a problem. But Harry Fields finally got an idea. He knew somebody he was fairly sure would do it just for kicks and that was good because it meant Harry wouldn't have to lay out any cash.
The man's name was Van Jagger. He was about thirty-five. When he was twenty-five, Van had inherited something like three million dollars. From that moment on Van Jagger dedicated his life to the pursuit of something he could never get enough of, before, as a poor man the various degrees of pleasure and excitement that women could offer him. He traveled all around the world several times, sampling the various erotica and accompanying stimuli that had been passed down through the ages in Asia, Europe, Africa and the Orient. In the last year or so, Van Jagger had settled down in Greenwich Village, where he bought a small apartment house. He took the top floor for himself, furnishing it, sumptuously. The other eight apartments were occupied by young females of varying types and degrees of beauty, nationality, race and sexual accomplishment. They lived there rent free and with an allowance in cash that enabled them to five as well, if not better than if they worked a daytime job. Most of them were aspiring actresses, dancers, singers or artists, marking time until the world "discovered" them. Meanwhile, through Van Jagger's generosity, they could pursue their careers without having to give up time to making a living. In return, they were to make themselves available whenever Van Jagger's demands might arise.
Harry Fields had known Van Jagger for some time. He had done Van several favors, at different times, tipping him off to girls he might be interested in as potential "queens" for his "harem." He had a hunch Van would help him out.
They sat around Van's luxuriously appointed apartment discussing the situation over a few drinks. Van Jagger was a big, ruggedly good looking young man, with a thick mane of yellow blonde hair. His facial structure was such that it so far had held off pretty well, the ravages of dissipation. He looked thirty, instead of thirty-five.
After he listened to Harry's proposition, he said: "Man, that is a wild request. What kind of a chick is this, that gets her kicks that way?"
"Pretty weird," Harry answered. "But it's worth it, believe me."
"You say it's one of the models you use in your cosmetic ads."
"Yeah," Harry said. "And let's leave that part of it lay, huh, Van. like I said, I can't tell you any more about her. You know, her coming from a wealthy family and all."
"Okay." Van grinned. "I know how those things are. And this Corinne chick, you sure she isn't a dog?"
"Uh-uh. I kid you not, Van. I think you'll enjoy her for a quickie. She's not so hot you'd want it for a regular diet but I think you won't mind it for a one-shot."
"And she'll go along with it for anything I might want to do, for extra kicks?"
"Sure. No problem there. I'll tell her to do anything you say. I already told you she's got a pretty strong masochistic streak."
"Okay, Pal," Van finally agreed. "You let me know the time and the place and I'll go along for the ride. What do I have to lose? Besides, I owe you a favor."
"That's just what I was hoping you would say." Harry grinned, contentedly. "And now, since I'm here, what have you got in the building, now, in the way of goodies that you might like to share with a pal?"
Van got up and poured himself another drink. "Hey, that's an idea. I'm kind of in the mood for a little party, anyhow. Say, you remember that little Hawaiian girl, Tiko, you saw me out with one night?"
"Yeah. A gorgeous little creature. A little doll."
"So. how would you like a little of that?"
"How come? You through with her?"
"Yeah. You know, I don't usually share the wealth, unless I am. I'm getting rid of her next week."
"I often wondered about that," Harry mused. "How do you shake these broads when you're through with them? I should think they'd be like leeches and would fight like hell about giving up the good deal they have here."
"There are ways. With Tiko, it was easy. She's a fine dancer. So I just got a friend of mine in San Francisco to give her a job at his night club at a hundred bucks a week more than she's getting here in New York. Incidentally, did you ever see a Hula done the way it should be done, the way it used to be done?"
"How's that?"
"Well, with just the grass skirt."
"You mean, no bra, nothing under the skirt?"
"That's the way."
Harry Fields thought about it and began to rub his hands together in anticipation. "I never have. But there's always a first time, isn't there."
Van Jagger laughed, went over to an intercom system that he had hooked up with the rest of the apartments. He tipped a cam and said, when a girlish voice answered: "Tiko, you busy?"
"Not really," she answered.
"I'd like you to come up here and entertain a friend of mine for a few minutes. Put on your grass skirt and do a native dance for him. You know the real way."
There was no answer for a moment and then Tiko asked: "Who is he?"
"A very important friend of mine. He books acts into the biggest spots in Europe. I've been telling him about you. He can't use a Hula dancer right now, but will be able to just about the time yon finish up that San Francisco engagement. I mean, I just want him to catch your act, doll. No hanky panky ... Unless, of course, it's all right with you if you feel like it. We might even get a little party going, later and you can stick around if you feel like it. Okay?"
"All right. Van," she said. "Give me about ten minutes."
"Sure. And just bust right in without knocking. We'll be expecting you."
Van then came back and sat down. "WaitTl you see this dance. It'll drive you crazy, Harry. At least, it used to, me. I don't get much charge out of it any more," he said, a little regretfully.
Then he got up and went over to a long, complicated looking Hi-Fi outfit, snapped some switches and in a few minutes, lilting Island music began to flow from the twin speakers. They talked some more and then there was the sound of the front door opening and they both looked around, expectantly, toward the doorway from the hall.
When Harry Fields saw Tiko, she almost took his breath away. She was tiny, not quite five feet tall but she was built in perfect proportion. Her jet black hair, waist long and shimmering and shiny as wet Java silk, was brought over the front of her shoulders so that its cascading softness partially concealed her otherwise bared breasts. As she moved toward them, her naked thighs flashed through the whispering skirt of grass. They were the long, strong, smoothly muscled thighs of a professional dancer, firm and hard, yet completely feminine.
Her face was an exotic, almost mysterious blend of all the oriental types of beauty, with a dash of the Latin there, too. Her nose was short and straight and so small it was almost like a child's. Her eyes, slightly slanting, were enormous, seeming to fill her whole face. They were thick-lashed and held a passionate, moody expression. Her mouth was like a Lotus bud, moist and shining and richly red.
She paused in front of Van and Harry Fields stared, goggle-eyed at one of the girl's breasts, peekabooing out between strands of her long, silken black hair. The plump and tawny globe of firm ripe flesh was apple-sized and perfectly formed. The coffee-colored nipple aroused by the tickling strands of hair against it, rose from the center like a large, hard brown pebble.
Tiko's teeth were small and even and white as she smiled a greeting to Van's introduction of Harry. Then, she asked, with just a trace of delightful Polynesian accent: "You wish I should begin right away?"
"Might as well," Van said, smiling. "After seeing you, I'm sure Harry can hardly wait"
Harry hardly could. He sat, enthralled, then, as Tiko moved to the center of the room and began to perform. As she began the ritual of the native dance, in perfect rhythm to the Island music pouring from the Hi-Fi, her lithe hips moved as though on ball-bearings; they rolled and ground and the flimsy grass skirt permitted constant tantalizing flashes of her brown, naked thighs and occasionally, when the gyrations of the dance became particularly wild, even allowed a flashing peek at the jewel of her womanhood. And as her long hair slithered about her shoulders, her widely set, nubile breasts kept bobbing back and forth into view, jiggling gelatinously, the dark tips seeming to become more and more aroused and erectile.
After awhile, she turned to give the men a back view. The flimsy grass skirt swished back and forth with the movement of her hips, the stamping of her tiny bare feet. It did little to hide the deeply divided mounds of her pertly plump derriere.
When she wheeled around to face them again, the music pounded into an even wilder beat and now Tiko flung her long hair completely back off her shoulders, baring the tawny skinned, taut-fleshed bombs of her bouncing breasts. They jiggled and swayed as though they were made out of jello.
The finale, a highly suggestive series of movements, involving belly, hips, thighs and hands, had sweat standing out on Harry's forehead and rolling down his ribs. As the music stopped, Tiko stood breathless for a moment, smiling at them, her breasts still wilding heaving from her heavy breathing. Then, she whispered to Harry, her dark, slanting eyes flashing with the eagerness of a child for applause: "You like, 'Arry?"
"God. honey, I loved it, not liked it! You drove me right out of my mind. Come over here, you adorable creature!"
With a little giggle, Tiko ran over and eased herself down on his lap. She said: "Tiko like you. Tiko happy you liked her dance."
Harry just groaned and buried his face against the exotically scented smoothness of her long, sleek black hair. His hand sought and found the warm, smooth sphere of a firmly resilient breast, squeezing, cupping, the stiffened nipple digging teasingly into his palm and catching between his fingers. His other hand sampled the hot, silken sleekness of her naked thigh, under the rustling coarseness of the grass skirt.
She raised his head then and brought her slightly opened mouth down upon his. Her mouth tasted as sweet as though it was filled with honey as his tongue instantly drove into it. They clutched and clung as Harry's hands sampled all the delights of the hills and dales and dells of her voluptuous little body.
Then, as he paused to get into a more comfortable position, with a little laugh, Tiko jumped from his lap.
"Hey, what's the idea?" Harry demanded.
Tiko shook her finger at him, mischievously, her teeth flashing as she giggled, girlishly. "Not yet, 'Any, darling. You must be patient"
Van Jagger, watching this byplay, chuckled, said: "Simmer down for the moment, Harry. I know how you feel but the night's young yet I've got some other entertainment coming up that you and Tiko can watch together. It should be very inspiring."
With that he went to the intercom, talked to two other girls in the building and got them to come up. A few minutes later, they entered the apartment. Their appearance together was startling. One of the girls was a blonde, a little on the buxom side, her face and her figure amazingly close to making her a double for Jayne Mansfield. The other was a tall slender, regal looking negress. She was over six feet tall. Her waist was so infinitesimal a man could close both hands around it. But her hips had a feminine flair and her high, pointy breasts stabbed out the cloth of her dress in a delightful manner. Her skin was a sleek, shiny black and her face was exquisitely pretty, finely featured, the nose thin, aquiline, the mouth small and pouting. Her eyes, set off beautifully by her high cheekbones were a liquid brown. She was a strikingly lovely woman.
Van introduced both girls to Harry. The blonde was Vivian; the colored girl, Estelle. While they talked for awhile, got acquainted, Van made them all drinks from his well stocked bar and Tiko went out into the kitchen to prepare some snacks to go with the drinks.
After one drink, Van called in another girl from the building. This one when she appeared, was a tiny Chinese girl, named Mai. Harry was amazed to see that she was no bigger than a ten year old child. Under the silk Mandarin pajamas she wore there was no visible sign of development.
"My God!" Harry exclaimed to Van, when the girl had moved away. "Isn't that dangerous, robbing the cradle like that? How old is she ten eleven, at the most?"
Van laughed. "I've got news for you. She's nineteen but she did stop growing when she was ten. And believe me when it comes to making a man happy, she's no child. She's my latest kick. She's completely different. It's like a Lolita gig except that it's pretty legal. I've never had anything like it"
The group sat around, listening to music, talking and drinking and enjoying the kitchen snacks Tiko had prepared. Tiko was now sitting on the arm of Harry's chair and he was running his hand up and down the tawny smoothness of her well fleshed thigh, wondering how long he could stand it before he would have to pick her up and carry her off to a bedroom.
Then Estelle, the tall negress, brought Tiko a fresh drink. After she'd handed it to the girl, she stood there staring down at one of Tiko's exposed breasts. Finally she reached out and cupped it gently, rubbing her thumb across the distended nipple.
"Ah, honey," she said, in liquid Southern tones. "That's just about the cutest thing I've ever seen."
Then, quickly, she bent her head and briefly kissed the aroused little nubbin. She straightened, hastily, though, when Vivian, the blonde, called out: "Hey Estelle, cut that out, before I come over there and snatch you bald!"
Estelle showed her perfect, ivory white teeth in a cat-like grin. "Oh, don't be such a jealous chile, sweetie. You got nothing to worry 'bout. You know I couldn't live without those big beauties of yours. I was just testing for comparison."
Then she glanced around at the others. "Hey, Y'all, I've got an idea. Little Tiko, here, is practically naked and were all fully clothed. How about the rest of us evening things up a little? As a-matter-of-fact, while we're at it; let's go all the way. Let's all of us have us a nudist party. Everybody game?"
There was some jocular discussion of the idea and then it was unanimously agreed. Everybody began to strip, right on the spot Tiko, of course, who had only to remove her grass skirt, was the first. Looking at her, Harry marveled that she was even more beautiful, completely nude. Her hips were exquisitely rounded, cutting in sharply at the top to her .small waist.
Estelle, the negress, was the second to completely strip. Her black body was a thing of striking beauty. Her legs were long and delicately curved, her stomach flat, her hips slightly flared. Her breasts were high set and pear-shaped, thrusting slightly out to each side and tapering to sharply pointed black tips. Her flesh all over was as smooth looking as black velvet
Vivian, when finally nude, was a voluptuous specimen. Her abnormally large breasts billowed up, surprisingly without any sag. The nipples were as large as Malaga grapes. Her skin was milky white.
Mai, the little Chinese girl, was even more surprising, when she divested herself of her mandarin pajamas. She looked more than ever like a child, with her short, baby-plump arms and legs. But like a child which has matured too early. The tiny dark ringlets of her womanhood seemed incongruous, as did the tiny, tiny buds of her breasts, small, though completely shaped, as they were, hardly more than plum-sized.
Immediately, Estelle and Vivian began to dance. Next, Van Jagger took the diminutive Mai in his arms, the top of her head hardly coming to his chest Then Tiko came toward Harry and said, smiling: "Shall we join them?" Then she glanced down, gasping a little and saying: "That is, if we can get close enough together."
"Oh, we'll manage it, somehow," Harry said, excitedly.
"I'm sure we will," Tiko said, nestling in his arms.
The touch of his body against hers, drove Harry wild. In a few minutes he gave up all pretense at dancing. He just stood there, thrilling to the sensation of Tiko's hard nipples against his chest, her warm belly against his, the caress of her thighs against his own. His hands smoothed the hollow of her back and then glided down to the cute pouting of her firm little buttocks. He gripped them, sampling their resilience.
Meanwhile they were both watching Vivian and Estelle, their black and white bodies in such violent contrast. Both women were rubbing against each other, now, as they danced. Estelle's dark, pointed breasts were digging into the big, blooming white pillows of Vivian's flesh. Every once in awhile, their mutually stiffened nipples would brush against each other. Finally, they stopped dancing and with little moans, frankly embraced each other. Their mouths moved together and clung, twisting, opened, their tongues dueling.
A few minutes later, they collapsed onto a pile of silken pillows on the floor and began to make violent love to each other. Van and Mai and Harry and Tiko, now, had stopped dancing and both couples were watching the two women on the pillows, while their hands moved caressingly about each other.
When Estelle and Vivian were finally ecstatically entwined, Harry could wait no longer. He led Tiko to a waiting divan and she lay upon it, reaching her arms to him. She was equally ready and received him willingly, while they both kept their eyes on the other lovers the ones on the pillows and Van Jagger sitting on a chair, with the tiny Mai astride him. It was a session Harry Fields would never forget
After it was over, they all ate and drank some more until all of them were quite tipsy and it seemed perfectly in order to change partners. This time, Harry wound up with the miniature oriental-, maiden, Mai, while Van sampled the abundant charms of Vivian. Tiko and the statuesque, dark Estelle, rendered their own private version of the Passion Song. And Van had been right about Mai; she certainly wasn't any child when it came to love-making. She astounded Harry with a variety of sensual tricks that he had never known before...