Chapter 8
Jeff and Donna had slept in each others arms all night after Jeff had helped her move into his apartment. It was the young man's day off, and Donna had decided to skip classes. It was now mid-afternoon. They'd been drinking all day. Jeff was casually dressed in a sport shirt and slacks, and Donna was wearing a loose long waisted blouse and a pair of flared bellbottom capris. They were sitting on the sofa. There was a fifth of whiskey, a seltzer water bottle, and a bowl of ice in front of them on the coffee table. Donna was snuggled up close to Jeff.
Jeff grinned happily. "At last we're alone; no interruptions, no serious problems, and mainly no Isadore!"
Donna giggled drunkenly. "Don't be too sure about that. He's got a way of showing up like a long lost Uncle and always at the wrong time."
"Why did you ever put up with that repulsive bastard in the first place?"
"Strictly for money."
"What money? Twenty-five bucks, a beauty course on credit, and a toy wristwatch?"
"If I ever get another crack at him, I'll hit him for a grand. I just didn't handle him right. He's got plenty in the bank, yet he lives in a cheap house, and his poor wife wears phony leopard coats. He's a miser."
"Let him stick his money up his ass! We'll get along. Why don't we get hitched, baby? They say two can live cheaper than one."
"When, darling?"
"As soon as possible."
"Oh, Jeff, you've made me so happy. I'll be graduating soon; then I can get a job and help you."
Their lips met, and hot tongues began washing together. Jeff ran his hands up the back of her blouse, stroking the smooth flesh between her capri waist band and her bra. His penis was getting hard even though he'd fucked her four times that day and twice the previous evening before falling asleep. They pulled their mouths apart and gazed into each others eyes.
"Damn, but you make me hot, Donna. I never seem to get enough of you."
"Likewise. My pussy's always wet when I'm near you."
Jeff slid his hands out of her blouse, then fumbled with the front zipper on her bellbottoms, and pulled it down, causing the snap to pop open. He worked his hand up one bikini pantie leg, fingering her wet cunt. The heat from it almost seared his fingers. "Do you like me to play with your pussy, baby?"
"I love it-your touch is so tender."
"Feel me up," he said, pulling her hand down to his crotch.
Donna got his fly open, then let her small soft hand reach inside and search for his tool. When she found it, it was stiff and ready. Before she pulled it through his shorts, she fingered his warm balls, teased him by pulling at a few pubic hairs, then stabbed her index finger a little way into his asshole.
Jeff's finger was now slick with girljuice. He slid it up and down her creaming slit and manipulated the man in the boat.
Now Donna was pulling his big prick through his fly. She looked down at it, running her tongue around her lips. "God, but you have a beaut there," she smiled. "I could love it to death."
"Then why don't you, baby? What a way for a dick to die."
"How do you want me to finish him off?" Donna teased.
"Well, let's see! You could let him drown in your cuntjuice; or strangle him with your hands; or eat him up. Take your choice."
"All at once I've got a terrific appetite," and with that, the young blonde fell to her knees in front of him and started to lick and suck the beautiful prick. She was running her long hard tongue up and down its length, then nibbling and frenching the deep cockeye; sucking in each drop of clear, tasty lubricating fluid.
Slowly, she let the huge penis enter her mouth, then slip down her throat, an inch at a time.
"Another suck like that one, kiddo, and your tonsils will be floating down to your stomach."
While Donna continued to give Jeff a blow job; out in the hallway, Mr. Slinky, the private eye whom Mrs. Simms had hired, put down a large suitcase, opened it, then removed a plumber's outfit that consisted of a cap and coveralls, and a metal box of tools. He bid the suitcase behind a drape on a full length hall window, then walked up to Jeff's door.
He then knocked.
Donna pulled her head back, and the big prick bounced upward. "Somebody's at the door, damnit!"
"No peace for people in heat. Who's there?" Jeff shouted.
"It's the plumber. I've gotta check the pipes in the bathroom."
"Guess you'll have to let him in," Donna said as she fixed the front of her outfit.
Jeff tucked his stiff rod into his shorts and zipped up his fly on the way to the door. When he opened it, Mr. Slinky tipped his cap and grinned.
"The bathroom's through there," Jeff said, pointing. "What's wrong?"
"The tenants beneath you reported a leak dripping through to their ceiling." Mr. Slinky then glanced about the room, not missing Donna's mussed hair and flushed face. He sniffed the air, then caught a glimpse of the big bulge along Jeff's left leg. He then went into the bathroom.
Jeff and Donna sat on the sofa, drinking some whiskey and seltzer, waiting for him to finish. They could hear the banging noise of a tool on the pipes.
Soon, Mr. Slinky returned. He sniffed the air again, detecting the odor of booze and cunt.
"Do you have a cold, sir?" inquired Jeff.
"Ah ... er ... it's only my sinuses."
"You're the fastest plumber I've ever seen. That didn't take long at all," said Donna.
"It was a loose bolt. Everything's fine now. Sorry to have troubled you."
"That's quite all right," Jeff said, "after all, you've gotta make a living."
Mr. Slinky then walked out to the hallway where he returned the plumber hat and the tool box to the suitcase.
"That character sure had a funny look on his face. He gave me the creeps, Jeff."
"To hell with him-let's get with it. My nuts are so damned hot they're ready to melt."
Donna got on her knees again and Jeff whipped out his eight and a half inches. The fat head was twitching and dripping with passion. He shoved it roughly against Donna's lips and opening her mouth as wide as she could, she gripped it firmly with her teeth. She then started to french him with great gusto.
Jeff slid to the edge of the sofa, grasping her head and pulling it closer to him. He tensed his ass, ready to come....
THEN!
A LOUD KNOCK!
"FUCK! This damned apartment's getting worse than being in a bus terminal!" Then Louder, "Who's there?"
"Western Union telegram!" said Mr. Slinky on the other side of the door.
Jeff scrambled to his feet, rushed across the room, shoving his cock out of sight. It almost shot off in his hand.
"It's probably from Isadore," Donna called after him. "But he isn't supposed to leave town till tomorrow."
"Perhaps it's to say he's sorry," said Jeff. He then opened the door and Mr. Slinky tipped a Western Union hat. He'd stuck on a handlebar mustache.
"I've got a singing telegram for you, sir."
"Your face looks familiar. Haven't I seen you some place before?"
"I've got that type of face. Everybody tells me I look familiar. Oh well, on with my job." He then began to sing:
"Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you Happy birthday, dear Dinklehoofer, Happy birthday to you!"
"You've got the wrong party. My name's Jeffrey Davenport."
"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. The office musta made a mistake. I'll go back and check the address. Kindly accept my apology."
"Skip the speeches, and get lost!"
Jeff slammed the door, and Mr. Slinky returned the Western Union outfit to his suitcase, then searched through it for his next disguise. He was enjoying his job, but it was rather distracting to feel a big boner crowding his tight jockey shorts. Seeing the impression of Jeff's prick, and the beautiful big titted young girl on the sofa, had affected him more than he cared to admit. Also, the come smell in the room hadn't helped any. Someone had either been jacking off, or fucking in there!
Jeff returned to the sofa, picked up his drink, then sat down again. "The bastard who invented singing telegrams should be strung up by his balls."
Donna smiled. "I don't even get a chance to suck the first drop out of your peter when we find ourselves playing knock, knock, who's there?"
"Well, start sucking, honey. The only other thing that can happen is an earthquake, and I doubt if that'll happen," Jeff grinned as he whipped his stiff cock out again. It had been excited so much, that the false alarms had caused it to slow down. This time as he throatfucked Donna, although it felt great, Jeff knew he'd be a long time in coming. He figured if he ate some cunt, he'd reach the fever pitch he'd felt before, so he pulled away from her and opened the front of her capris. He pulled them down to her ankles along with her panties, then dove into the muff.
"Oh, Jeff-darling, lick me harder ... faster, oh, that's it. Suck on my clit ... eeek, I'm getting ready to come."
In the hallway, just as Mr. Slinky was about to put on his next disguise, he saw a man coming up the top step at the end of the hall. Quickly he ducked behind the long, heavy drapes. Peeking out, he saw the short man go up to Jeff's door, put his ear to it, and his eye to the keyhole. He then knocked loudly three times!
Donna's climax was interrupted. She pulled up her bellbottoms and panties and zipped up.
"Who in the hell is it now?" Jeff shouted as he wiped cuntjuice off his mouth.
"It is I-Isadore! Let me in. I've got a surprise for Donna!"
Jeff was fuming as he ran over to the door and flung it open. Isadore quickly stepped into the room and closed the door.
Donna glared at him. "What are you doing here, Isadore? I've been busy letting Jeff hear my test out loud."
Isadore glanced at Jeff's face. "Does smeared lipstick go with it?"
"Just what do you want, Isadore?" Donna inquired.
"I've got a check for five hundred dollars for you, Donna. And I don't want to leave town with hard feelings between the three of us. Can't we be friends again?"
"Why the sudden generosity?" Donna asked suspiciously.
"Only this! It isn't decent for a single girl to live in a bachelor's apartment. I'm only considering your reputation, my dear, and you're to find a place of your own today! After all, this is a very generous gesture, on my part. I'm a kind, patient man. Just look at me! I've all but been put through a meat grinder; insulted, abused, and treated worse than a snake. Yet here I am, ready to forgive and forget. What's your decision, Donna?"
Jeff was furious. "Why don't you tell him to take a jet to Europe?"
Donna tried to calm Jeff down. "Now don't make any hasty decisions. After all, Isadore's been a victim of circumstances. He has a good heart and he means well. Why don't we give him another chance?"
Jeff shrugged his shoulders. "You win, Donna. Perhaps I was a little hasty. Go ahead, Isadore, sit down and have a quick drink with us. Then split!"
Donna mixed Isadore a whiskey and soda. He accepted it, then drained the contents quickly. He was glancing about the room. Jeff sat on the other side of Donna.
"This apartment is rather small. How many bedrooms are there?" Isadore asked. "One," Donna replied. "Then where do you sleep?"
"I'm sitting on it."
"Are you two kids in love?" he asked craftily. "We're only pals. Why don't you change the subject?"
"Tell him the truth, Donna."
"Shut up, Jeff," Donna said, "how about pouring our good friend another drink?" The young girl was nudging Jeff's knee, a signal not to confess anything to the old man.
Out in the hallway, Mr. Slinky was now removing a lady's dress, high heeled shoes, a satchel, and a blonde wig and purse from the suitcase. He then snapped it shut, pushed it behind the drapes out of sight, and started to get ready. After he had been transformed, he picked up the purse and satchel, and walked over to Jeff's door. He was having difficulty balancing in the high heels. This time, he knocked extremely loud on the door.
"Somebody's at your door, Jeff. Why don't you see who's there?" Isadore said as he sat drinking.
"Mind your own damned business. I'm not wearing out any more shoe leather going back and forth from that door."
"It might be something important," said Donna. "Who in the hell's there?" Jeff shouted. "ABOMB calling!"
The voice was sing-songy and high pitched as the private eye tried to imitate a female.
Isadore grinned. "Let her in. Maybe we can have a party and make a foursome out of it."
"Why not! The more the merrier," laughed Jeff as he got up and went over to the door and opened it.
Mr. Slinky gave a seductive smile. "Could you spare a few minutes for a poor working girl to show her wares?"
"By all means. Come in. This is my day for being hospitable."
"How ducky! I've got a line of cosmetics that are just too, too much! They're guaranteed to make single girls catch a husband, and married men to leave home."
Mr. Slinky walked into the room, and Jeff slammed the door. The female clad detective strolled over to Isadore and winked at him. "You look like the romantic type, sir, would you like a sample of my 'Naughty Vixen' after shave lotion?"
"It might be just what the doctor ordered," Isadore replied as he glanced over at the front of the dress, wondering what the bump was, pushing against the satin material.
Donna was staring at Mr. Slinky. "You look familiar, miss. Do you have a brother who's a plumber?"
"A plumber! Heavens no! My brother's a fire eater in a circus."
Mr. Slinky put his satchel on the coffee table, opened it, and removed several bottles of perfume, some lipstick tubes, and powder. He then opened a tiny bottle and going over to Isadore, dabbed some on his hand. "Doesn't it smell just too, too divine?"
"Where did they get the main ingredient?" Isadore grinned. "At the Vets when they de-skunked someone's pet?" He was eyeing Mr. Slinky, feeling sorry that the poor girl was so flat chested.
"Don't pay any attention to him, miss," said Donna. "He's only joking."
"If you don't care for it, sir," said Mr. Slinky, "then how about some of my cloth proof, 'tell no tales' lipstick? It turns white on shirts, an no wife can detect it."
"Let me smell some of the perfume," Donna said.
"Here, try this, 'A Mad Night's Dream.' This is guaranteed to really make a man leave home."
Mr. Slinky uncapped it and dabbed some on Donna's ear. She held her nose. "It could make a man leave home all right; for good, if his wife used it!"
Mr. Slinky was trying to size up the situation. What did this young girl mean to Jeff? And where did this old man fit into the picture? Especially the way he'd been trying to peek through the keyhole earlier. He decided that to keep the farce going about selling cosmetics wasn't turning up any information to take back to Mrs. Simms, so he decided to try a more intimate approach.
"Do you folks mind if I help myself to a drink? My poor feet are so tired from going door to door, trying to make a sale.
"Go ahead," Donna said.
"I'll fix you a high-ball, baby," Isadore said, taking over. He'd make Donna jealous. That's what he'd do. He'd show her that other girls did find him desirable.
Mr. Slinky took advantage of Isadore's friendly look.
Going over to the little man, he sat down next to him and patted his knee. "Thay, I think you're cute. What's your name?"
"Izzy to you."
"What a cute name. It goes with your handsome face."
Isadore boldly placed one arm about Mr. Slinky's shoulder. "You're kinda cute yourself, baby. What's your name?"
"Christine. But just call me Chris."
This brought a big smooch from Mr. Slinky-right on Isadore's chops.
"Hey! What's going on? I didn't give permission for a necking party," Jeff snapped. He was becoming extremely irritated; anxious to get rid of both of them so that he could be alone with Donna.
"Oh, Jeff, let them get acquainted. They look like they deserve each other."
Isadore's face was flushed. He loosened his tie. "Now that we're friends, Jeff, why don't you let us use your bedroom?"
"My mother told me never to go into bedrooms with strange men," said Mr. Slinky coyly.
"Then I guess we'd better go," Isadore said. "You gave me the wrong impression."
Mr. Slinky couldn't afford to leave before he obtained the necessary information, so he decided to play along. He'd be able to handle the little man!
"Oh, I was only kidding. I don't want you to think I'm a tramp. I'll have one drink with you in the bedroom."
Isadore's face beamed.
Donna fixed two drinks, handed the glasses to them, and Mr. Slinky and Isadore started for the bedroom, the detective tripping in the high heels.
Donna smiled as she fixed drinks for Jeff and herself, then lit a cigarette. "Well, isn't this something!"
"Now I know I was right, Donna. That bastard's really an old wolf!"
"Not really. Can't you see through him? He's doing this to burn me up."
"I wish to hell I had a peep hole carved in the wall. I'd love to see that scene," Jeff laughed. "That chick will rape him, for sure." He then laughed harder as he reached for a cigarette.
Isadore sat on the edge of the bed. "Come over here and sit next to me, baby."
"I'd rather sit in this chair, I'm awfully shy."
"There's no need to be afraid of me, or bashful. I won't touch you."
"You promise?"
"Of course."
"All right then." Mr. Slinky stumbled over the rug in the high heels, then sat beside Isadore, drinking the strong drink.
"How well do you know those two out there, honey?" asked Mr. Slinky.
"I haven't known Jeff long, but Donna's one of my girlfriends."
"She is? Then what's she doing with Jeff?"
"It's strictly platonic. They're only pals."
"You mean to tell me that a beautiful young girl like that only attracts him as a friend?"
"Yes."
"It's unheard of. Only gay men share such a relationship."
"I didn't think of that," Isadore said. "That's a brand new angle to the situation."
As he spoke, he was planning how to seduce the cosmetic girl. He had to take her completely off guard. His arm still hurt where he had removed the sling, but at a time like this, perhaps exercising it would do some good.
Mr. Slinky having found out why Jeff had spurned the old lady's advances, so he thought, wanted to get the hell out of there. He quickly drained his drink and put the glass on the floor. "Well, I guess I'll be running along, honey."
Did he get fooled!
He was taken completely by surprise, when Isadore pushed him back on the bed, falling on top of him, and getting a scissor hold around his neck.
"Let me up, you beast!"
"Not until I get some of that pussy."
Isadore was still holding on firmly, then raising up Mr. Slinky's dress. When he felt the elastic on a baggy pair of bloomers, he fingered it, then reached up one leg searching for cunt. Instead, he got a handful of prick and balls.
"Jesus, you're a man!"
"Now, don't get excited, honey. I had to dress like a girl; people won't let men in to sell stuff."
Chris thought he'd be let up, but did he ever think the wrong thing!
"You wouldn't be going around dressed as a woman just to sell stuff. I wasn't born yesterday! You're a queer! This cosmetic trade is only a cover up."
"Please, let go of my neck. You're choking me."
"I'll let go when you promise to let me stick my dick up your ass. I'm not adverse to a little cornholing with a man or a woman."
"Okay. Just let go."
Isadore fell for the trap. He released his iron grip, which brought Mr. Slinky to his feet, and on his way over to the door.
"One more step, baby, and I shout for Donna and Jeff to call the police and expose you. There's a law about male prostitutes, posing as women."
Mr. Slinky knew he was trapped. "All right, but don't shout so loud. What do you want me to do?"
"Get that dress and those bloomers off, then come over here on the bed."
Mr. Slinky was wondering how far Izzy would go, also how long he could hold him off until he got the chance to get a good sock to the jaw in and knock the old fart out. Should the police arrive, he could easily prove his disguise, but then he'd be giving away the secret of why he'd been hired, and by whom. He'd lose a fat fee as old lady Simms was loaded. It wasn't too often that he got a sucker like her on the string.
"What are you waiting for, baby. Strip!"
"Cut out the baby crap you silly bastard!"
"There-there; better watch out, Chris, I've got a good set of lungs, one yell from me, and...."
"I was only putting you on, Izzy; let's get this over with."
Mr. Slinky started to unbutton the silk dress. He was standing in front of Isadore now. He noticed that the old man was edging to the side of the bed, unzipping his fly. And Isadore's eyes didn't waiver from where Mr. Slinky's hands were. He wasn't a complete idiot, and had sense enough to keep up his guard.
Mr. Slinky could almost read Isadore's thoughts. Somehow, he had to gain the old man's complete confidence. He got the dress off, and was now toying with the baggy bloomers. He wore no undershirt and his thin chest was covered with thick brown wirey hair that hid his male nipples.
"Go ahead, Chris, get those panties off."
Mr. Slinky dug his thumb into the elastic waist band and slid them down over his hips. He stepped out of them, and Isadore stared at the crotch of his white jockey shorts.
"Shall I remove my wig as well?"
"No! I want to think of you as a girl, blondie."
Mr. Slinky wondered what the old man's next move would be. He saw that his short prick was being pumped in one hand. He decided to bend over to him, then just when Izzy was ready to bury his sausage up his ass-he'd let the son-of-a-bitch have it! He turned around slowly, backed in closer to Isadore, and bending over, stuck his ass close to Isadore's face.
Mr. Slinky was poised, with fists clenched-ready to strike. However, he hadn't expected the man to dive off the bed and fall to his knees. The little character was sitting on the floor, holding Mr. Slinky's ankles, and looking up between his legs at the low hung hairy balls. He started up Mr. Slinky's thighs, blazing a trail of wet tongue kisses until he reached the back of his knees.
Mr. Slinky unclenched his fists. He no longer wanted to punch the old man's jaw. For a strange thing had happened. The wild kisses and hot breath against his legs had given him one helluva hard-on. It sprang forward, wending its way through the jockey short opening, then stuck straight out like a barber pole. All ten skinny inches of it.
Isadore now had reached a puckered, musky smelling bung hole. He sniffed harder, then stuck his long nose against the hole, using it like a prick. His eyes were rolling about in his head like a toy rollie-polie, as he sighed deeply. He then replaced the nose with his tongue and started to give Mr. Slinky a rim job. Reaching to the hairy balls, he titillated them with feathery fingers. With his other hand, he reached around and grabbed for the detective's long penis. He gave it a firm squeeze, then his tongue left the asshole and he crawled around in front of Mr. Slinky and started to swipe at the swollen head. He sniffed and ticked off the dew drops, then looked up at the detective's face. It was distorted with raw lust.
"I'm ready now, Chris. Get on your knees so that I can reach your poopie doggie style."
"Don't you think you should take your trousers off? They can get messy, you know."
"That's a thought. I don't want my wife to find smeared come on them."
Mr. Slinky decided this was the time to make his move! Not the one previously planned; but one much different in nature. He watched Isadore as he removed his shoes in order to get his trousers over his feet. Then when the little man leaned over to strip off his trousers and shorts, just as they were being pulled free of his feet, the detective snatched up the baggy bloomers, quickly stuffed them into Isadore's mouth, then jumped him.
He now had the startled little man lying on the floor, face down, muffled sounds escaping his throat. He straddled over his ass, holding the sides of his rib cage strongly with both hands as he moved down, letting the ten inches find its own way. It was directly over the wrinkled bum now. With several rough pushes he felt the head enter the tight, dry asshole.
Squeals of pain were coming from Isadore's throat now, but he was helpless as Mr. Slinky continued to pound at his sore rectum. Then after six inches had worked its way up the brown tunnel, the private eye shot his cream. This made the rest of the way slippery, so he gave three more pushes before hitting pay dirt and releasing the remainder of his load up in Isadore's bowels.
He pulled out quickly. , Isadore, being in a very embarrassing position, couldn't very well go to the door and call out to Jeff and Donna. He sat up slowly and removed the bloomers from his mouth as Mr. Slinky quickly dressed.
"Goodbye, lover boy," he laughed sadistically; then rushed out the door, leaving Isadore sitting on the floor, crying like a baby, and picking up what was left of his drink. He needed a few minutes to get his bearings before he got decent again.
"What happened?" Donna asked as Mr. Slinky hurried over to the coffee table to gather up his wares and put into the satchel. He then grabbed his purse.
"Izzy tried to rape me. That character's a sex maniac. I've got to get back to work now. Good day, kiddos." He then rushed out the door. He glanced up and down the hallway. The road was clear, so he got his suitcase, put on his own clothes, then left to get back to his office and make out his report.
When Isadore did return to the living room, he was in a nasty mood. He poured a double shot of straight whiskey into a glass and downed it.
"You really treated that girl like a first class heel," said Jeff. "Trying to rape her!"
"Yes," Donna intervened, "and she was only trying to earn an honest dollar."
"He's, I mean, she's a goddamned liar! It didn't happen that way at all!"
Jeff jumped up! "I was beginning to believe Donna, that you were a gentleman-but now you've shown your true colors."
Isadore suddenly remembered Mr. Slinky's analysis of the young man's friendship with Donna. "There's something rotten in Denmark here, you hoodlum!" he spat angrily. "No man with a beautiful girl living in his apartment would keep the relationship platonic. I flunk you're a goddamned daisy!"
Jeff was infuriated. He jumped up and lunged for the little man; grabbing him by the scruff of the neck. "Repeat that remark about me being a 'daisy' and you'll be pushing up daisies!"
"Take your hands off me or I'll call the cops."
"Please, Jeff," Donna pleaded, "let's not have any more trouble."
Jeff released him. "Donna wants to spare your feelings, but you might as well know, we're getting married, and I dig girls. Furthermore, our relationship never has been platonic. We've been having a ball! We expect to go on having a ball for the rest of our lives. Now get the hell out of here and take your stinking dough with you!"
Like a scared rabbit, Isadore ran over to the door, opened it, then kicked it shut and ran as if the Gestapo were after him.
Donna blew a kiss. "Goodbye five hundred dollars."
"Fuck the money. Come on, baby, let's make up for lost time, and the next son-of-a-bitch who knocks on this door will have to break it down if they want to come in."
"You bet," Donna laughed. She then went into his awaiting arms.