Chapter 9
When Laurie realized she was fortuitously coupled with Eddie Prohaska, she spread her legs as wide as she could. Here, she told herself, was her opportunity to get the information the professor needed, and she made up her mind to cooperate to the fullest.
"You sure are hot!" her lover observed.
"And why shouldn't I be?" she said, pumping herself against his finger. "Sex never killed anybody. It's fun!"
He moved his hand from her and put the flat of his palm on her bare stomach. He stroked her there. Then his hand again dropped between her quivering, outstretched thighs. Laurie felt silly and hot and wonderful. She wanted to be felt all over. Felt and kissed-everything!
She slumped in the seat. His hands sought deeper pastures. Laurie moaned. She tried to raise her sweater, let her boobies pop out, get them sucked.
"Let's go to my place," he suggested suddenly.
"Will it be private ... I mean...."
"I've got a roommate," Eddie Prohaska said, "but he'll be in another room asleep."
Laurie consented. And maybe she'd learn something, she told herself. Maybe she'd see something in his apartment that would give her a clue as to how deeply he was involved with LSD.
"I've had way too much to drink," she said as he removed his hands from her and re-started the car, "so if I act a little wild...."
"Tigers are my meat," he said, grinning.
"Tigers can eat you up.
"That's what I mean."
Eddie Prohaska's three-room furnished apartment was housed in one of the series of yellow-bricked high risers that had been constructed a mile or so from the campus. He explained that he'd been living here for the past six months.
"And with a different girl every night," Laurie offered.
"Absolutely," he grinned. "Prohaska's whorehouse." He opened the lobby door and Laurie walked ahead, ascending the thickly-carpeted stairway.
"Third floor," he whispered, feeling her leg.
Laurie giggled. Eddie was running his hands between her legs as she climbed the stairs. She stopped and turned around. "Did you ever have intercourse on a stairway?"
"Not yet."
"Well you will if you don't stop that."
He grinned devilishly. He bent down and peeped under her mini-skirt "Wow!"
She mussed his hair. "Nut!" She climbed the rest of the stairs. Eddie hurried after her, led her to his suite. He opened the door quietly, peeped in, signaled her to follow.
They stood in the darkness and kissed. Eddie's hands flowed up and down under her clothes. His sexual hunger was contagious; she'd caught the germ and wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
"I'll check and make sure he's asleep," he whispered to her. "Make yourself comfortable."
He switched on a small table lamp, blew her a kiss, then disappeared inside the room which was apparently their bedroom. Laurie was too drunk to appreciate the luxury of Eddie's modern apartment. She saw comfortable furniture, thick rugs, and lots of books and stero equipment, but the sum total of all this meant nothing.
Suddenly Eddie emerged from the back bedroom and rejoined her. He was disarmingly good-looking, she thought, remembering Jim's evaluation of him; his grey-blue eyes were alert, sparked with mischief; there was a pleasant subtlety in his features, nothing harsh, nothing gross; but the real winner, the defense breaker, was his swift confidence of purpose; a look and a manner, not conceited that said, "You and I are going to do it!"
"He's asleep," Eddie advised.
"Are you sure?" She bridled slightly. "I wouldn't want anyone coming out at the wrong time."
"You worry too much." He started undressing her.
"You believe in getting down to the bare facts in a hurry, don't you?"
"Why not?"
Laurie unbelted his pants, lowered his shorts. His excitement sprang at her. She sighed with delight. Eddie came away from her, long enough to climb out of his clothes. Naked, they rushed to each other's arms. Their kiss and embrace were touched with insanity. Laurie shivered in anticipation.
"You are the hot one!" he breathed in her ear. "I can't help it."
"Don't try." His hands squeezed her breasts, appraised their juicy fullness.
"I like that."
He squeezed harder. "Too hard?"
"Never."
He increased the pressure, making her nipples swell to an angry red. His tongue flicked out at them, sampling first one bud, then the other.
Laurie let out a giant sigh. The feeling was heavenly. His tongue was like a pleasant hot poker, opening the road to new and wild abandon. Her hand dropped between his legs. She massaged him. Eddie drew her to the floor. He flung himself between her thighs.
"I can't wait," he murmured in a half-cry.
"I don't want you to. I want it NOW!"
He pushed; Laurie yielded. Eddie sank deeper.
"Ohhhh, sweets," she cried. "Tell me."
It's wonderful. The most wonderful feeling in all the world."
He shoved himself back and forth. Laurie joined him.
"Crazy!" he moaned.
"Cool."
"Not cool, baby. Hot. Red hot."
Laurie's nails raked his back. She drew her knees towards her breasts, clamped her ankles around his waist.
"You know how, don't you?"
"I do my best," she grunted, pushing up to him."
"Lots of practice, huh?"
"Does it make a difference," she groaned. "No." His eyes glazed. "I just wanted to know."
"Know what?"
"When you started."
"When I was 14."
Her confession excited him. He stroked faster. "Tell me about it."
"There's nothing to tell. I just did it."
He insisted he wanted to hear and he paused until she began.
"My mother was away and I was all alone in the house, and ... well, we just did it."
"Tell me about it. Was it good?"
Laurie had Eddie Prohaska typed. He was like Sid Laska in some respects; highly excited by visual images, somewhat of a voyeur.
"You want to hear everything?" she asked incredulously.
"Everything!"
She told him what she remembered of it: "We were on this couch ... y'know, goofing around...."
"Kissing?"
"Kinda like ... but mostly wrestling at first. And when we'd wrestle, well, he'd kind of feel me up ... y'know my breasts ... only he never touched me down there." She pointed with her finger. "Then this one day that it happened, he started touching me down there under my dress."
Eddie had commenced to move back and forth inside her. "Keep talking," he ordered.
"Well, he kept rubbing his hand down there, touching me around my panties, and I got pretty hot. He asked me if I liked it, and I told him, yeah, that it felt good.
"So he got me pretty worked up and all, and then he made me put my hand on him, and I saw he was worked up, and ... well, we played with each other for a while"-her hips were working frantically and she didn't know whether it was the telling of the story that was exciting her to such extremes, or whether it was Eddie's berserk pumping: "and then all at once, he said, 'Laurie, d'ya want to do it?"
"I couldn't say no. I was too hot. So we took off all our clothes and he made me spread my legs" her breathing grew irregular; her young hips wiggled up to meet Eddie's joyous assault.
"Then what happened?" Eddie groaned.
"He got on top of me."
"Go on."
"He started pushing into me."
"Like I'm doing."
"Yessss." '
"And he went faster and faster?"
"Yessss."
"And harder?"
"And you didn't want him to stop did you?"
"No, no!"
"And you grabbed him?"
"Yes!"
"And you shoved up to him."
Laurie went out of her mind. She screamed four-letter obscenities in Eddie's ears. It was the stimulus that broke the camel's back, for Eddie Prohaska was suddenly the teenage boy who was having sexual intercourse with 14-year-old Laurie and while it was real to him, it was also real to her.
Their bodies slammed together, parted, slammed again. The fierce slap-slap of their stomachs, one to the other, gained in rhythm. Laurie had lost control of herself. She was answering her reflexes in the same, wonderful way that she had answered them as a 14-year-old seductress on her mother's couch. She pumped her little wildcat body with maddening frenzy: a runaway jackhammer. Her lickable breasts were crushed again his chest.
"Ohhhhh, Eddie! Eddie!"
"Now?"
"Y-yes, E-Eddieeeeeeeee! NOWWWWWW!"
He soared. Laurie soared. The crash came head-on. Fulfillment was wild and euphoric, the thrashing, erotic deliverance to another planet. Laurie collapsed. So did Eddie. They clung to each other, naked babes in the woods.
"Very good, children. Very good." Someone was clapping his hands.
Laurie bolted upright. A long-bearded, hippy-type individual, Eddie's roommate apparently, stood in the open doorway. He wore an obscene smile and had evidently witnessed the entire spectacle, considering the state of his pajamas.
Laurie reached frantically for something with which to cover herself. Eddie was amused. He said, "Relax, baby, relax. Al's only my roommate."
"Maybe he's your roommate," she said, cowering behind her blouse, "but he's not mine."
"But I'd like to be," the strange figure said.
Laurie made a face. Eddie and the hippy laughed. Laurie said, "Make him go away, huh, Eddie?"
"Al?" He looked at her as though in great pain. "Honey Al's my buddy. You don't know what your asking. Why, Al here...."
"This chick ain't been delivered," the hippy said, advancing on them. "She ain't even on the right frequency." He glanced at Eddie. "Tell her how it is with you and me Eddie. Tune her in."
Laurie looked from the hippy to Eddie with a mixture of fear and revulsion.
Eddie said, "Al's right, bable. He and I go the same route."
Laurie shot them a puzzled grimace.
"We plug the same circuit. AC-DC ... it's all the same," the hippy put in.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Laurie said, somewhat frighted and still hiding behind her blouse.
"Like where'd you inherit this dum-dum?" the hippy asked.
"What Al's trying to say...."
"Un menage a trois. You know what that means, don't you?"
Laurie told the hippy no.
"Dum-dum in spades, yet."
"Un menage a trois is French for three in a bed," Eddie Prohaska explained.
"That ain't the literal translation," the hippy said, scratching his beard, "but if you ain't linguistic...." His eyes searched Laurie's, "You ain't linguistic, are you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Laurie said, wanting to leave.
Eddie placatingly held Laurie's hand. "Honey, what it boils down to is this: Al and I are Communists in bed. We share the wealth...."
"And you're the wealth," the hippy said, peeling off his pajama top.
Laurie suddenly realized what they meant to do. "No, Eddie. I won't do it."
"Honey, Al Zetlow is like a blood brother to me. He digs young chicks. You do the scene with him or everything else is dead."
"Where are my clothes?"
"The kid's a kidder. She wants her clothes."
Laurie tried to scramble to her feet. The hippy flung himself at her feet and pulled her down. She screamed. Eddie's hand clamped over her mouth. He motioned something to his bearded cohort. The hippy disappeared briefly, returned carrying a bottle of whiskey. They forced Laurie to drink from it.
"Local anesthetic," the hippy said. "No pain."
Laurie choked. Eddie Prohaska twisted her arm, forced her to drink more. Laurie almost gagged on it.
"Just one more swallow," Eddie breathed evilly, pushing the lip of the bottle into her mouth, "and everything"!! be swinging from the clouds."
Laurie nearly passed out. They'd compelled her to drink more than she'd ever consumed in her whole life. She felt dizzy and weak. The resistance went out of her like wind escaping a balloon. Her vision swam. The hippy and Eddie were both naked. She felt their hands and mouths corrupting her body.
"Pulchra cunnus" the hippy mumbled in Latin.
Laurie struck out at his face. She missed. The hippy laughed.
"I think the patient's ready, doctor," Eddie giggled.
"We'll do a transverse hymenectomy," the hippy said.
"I'll assist."
"Righto, doctor."
"Prepare for injection."
"Injection prepared."
Laurie screamed weakly. The hippy had crawled between her milk-white thighs. "Load syringe."
"Syringe loaded."
"Stand by for intromission."
"Standing by."
"Blast off!"
Laurie screamed. A hot searing pain knifed her lower body. The hippy groaned. Laurie fought him feebly. He shoved. He bore into her. Laurie heard her voice-alien, faraway-pleading for him to stop.
"Goin' for the brass ring, Eddie," the hippy intoned.
"Cloud nine, buddy-boy." He pistoned back and forth, imitating his friend's movements. Then he was slobbering over Laurie's breasts, kissing her and sucking her while his hippy-friend....
Laurie wanted to shut her eyes and die. That this revolting thing was happening to her, seemed unreal. Two beasts working over her body. Perverts out of another world. Demons with tongues.
In time, and following a succession of revolting sexual exercises, Laurie's body began to respond in spite of herself. She fought this response with all the mental determination she could muster, but it was a lopsided mismatch for the sexual stimulation being delivered by two men at the same time.
She climbed the walls of erotica. Her young body answered their most depraved wishes, and in the end, caught up in a maelstrom of liquor and sex, Laurie escaped into unconsciousness ... total darkness.