Chapter 3
He didn't tell her about the junk in the mast; not yet. There was an uneasiness in him, a not-trusting that came in part from the time spent in the joint, where nobody trusted anybody, and with good reason.
Rush sat in the Shipwreck Club, at the far end of the bar, drinking beer and spacing that out so he wouldn't be too high when Lei finished her work for the night. More time, he thought; more closeness with her, and then he might let her know about the big money that was probably still in that grey steel decoration behind the bar. Then Lei could help him get to it, maybe even help him with the place up north.
He could do worse than Lei. She was beautiful and hot, hot as any man could need; she loved to screw, and she enjoyed all the different things. She exuded that feel of sex, that faint perfume of sex; no wonder the guys in the club stared so hungrily at her when she did her strip numbers.
When she came out on the floor in a blue spotlight, spinning and giving weird little yips to the excited backgrounding of gongs and reed instruments wailing high and Oriental. That slit skirt, and tight across the breasts dress, went fine with high heels and her swinging, rippling hair.
When she peeled out of the dress, you could hear the crowd suck in its breath, Rush right along with it. Those high, proud tits stuck out with glittering pasties on them, and her perfect skin glowed in the bath from the spotlight.
Lei shook her tail and made her belly roll up and down; she rode her pelvis right up at a guy at ringside, grinding and bumping her gee-string covered box at him. Rush felt sorry for the guy because he knew how he felt. Hell, Rush was getting another erection just from watchin all that sleek ass, and from understanding that it was every bit as good as it looked.
She wasn't a phony, and her real sensuousness showed; her vital, passionate nature sent out little beckoning tendrils of appealing sex that put tiny hooks into a man's groin and tugged him toward her.
Lei cupped her breasts and peeled the pasties off her nipples, so she could run her fingers over them, cupping her tits and offering them to the men staring open-mouthed at her. The music thumped and banged, and Lei matched the rhythm with her hips, with the clenching and unclenching of her buttocks and the slam of her eager pelvis.
She slid across the floor, undulating and hunching, and finished her act directly in front of Rush, smiling wetly at him and making him a silent promise that she'd follow through later, as soon as she could. The spot snapped out and the music rose to crescendo; riotous applause followed Lei as she ducked through the curtains of the dressing room passage.
Every man felt a little lonely at her going.
The voice at Rush's ear was soft, and its breath stirred warmly upon him: "Seems as if you've made a hit with our little temple goddess."
Rush turned on the bar stool and looked head-on into a face every bit as lovely as Lei's, but in a totally different way. This one was blonde, burnished expensively and more mature; not old, just ripely filled out and softened. Yet there was an underlying something about the woman's face, an anticipation, a kind of evil knowing and waiting.
He said, at the sea-green eyes, at the red-ripe mouth: "Lei is a lovely girl."
"Oh, indeed," the woman said, the eyes measuring him, weighing him, probing into his depths. "Lovely and-talented. I'm Lorna Allison. In a way, I'm Lei's boss. I own the joint."
He told her his name and took the small, warm hand she slid into his. Lorna was in no hurry to take it away. She said softly, "Lei has finally found herself a real man, I see. That's good. It's a shame to waste all that sex."
Rush tried a grin and felt it slipping; he let go the warm hand and offered Lorna a drink. She nodded at the hovering barkeep and refused to let Rush pay for anything. She was small and trim, but neatly rounded and glossy; he put her age at the mid-thirties, but that was only by guess. Loma Allison showed no lines in her face, and no sagging of a well kept body.
Lei's boss? She could make it easy for him to get at the mast behind the bar. One woman or the other, he needed help to take this last big chance.
If that was using somebody, okay it had to be. A lot of things had combined to make Rush Scanlon a has-been at twenty-eight years of age, and the same things had effectively blocked him off from anything but sweat and a third class life.
The junk in that boat's mast could change all that and make him a leading contender-not in the ring, because that was not important, because nobody remembered the prelim boys, only the fighters good enough to make it to the main events.
"How'd you like to join us?" Lorna Allison asked. "At my place tonight. I need a little help, getting ready for a party. I'll fix it with Lei, and she can join us after her last show, okay?"
"Okay," Rush agreed, because that evil just beneath her expensive surface lured him.
She was back before he finished his next beer, and took his arm to walk beside him out of the Shipwreck Club. Rush felt the barkeep's eyes stab him between the shoulders, and looked back to grin at the man.
"Here, doll," she said, and handed him the keys to the big Continental. "I'll show you the way."
She was warm beside him, her rounded thigh touching his, her left breast brushing him from time to time as she steered him across the peninsula to the plush precincts of the Carmel Highlands. He was up again, not worn down as he ought to be after a night of loving with Lei, but ready for more.
It was still part of the prison dream, the big car and the rich blonde, the sprawling house on the edge of the ocean, buttressed by cypress and high walls, but mostly by money. Lorna Allison owned a lot more than just the Shipwreck.
In a huge party room under the house proper, she fixed drinks for them both, whirling around in her bright white dress, with the miniskirt up to the tops of her thighs. A wonderfully constructed woman, this Lorna, all lush and rich all knowing and experienced. And ready?
"Your party room's all fixed," he said over his glass. "You said you needed a little help?"
She put her empty glass down on the bar top and came to him, mouth wet with whiskey, eyes gleaming with purpose. She put her back to him and turned her head over one shoulder, completely woman. "With this damned zipper," she said. "Do you mind?"
He drew down the zipper and his hand shook as it brushed the top of her tight little butt. She wore panties, she had to with that skirt, but there was no bra strap. He heard the slither of the dress as she dropped it over his hips, but he didn't look down. He was staring at her nude back, at the pink and silver skin, at the little curls of her golden hair against the nape of her small neck.
She backed into him as he sat wide-legged on the bamboo bar stool, her hands deft at her waist where the panties snugged. He nuzzled into her neck, biting lightly upon the skin as his hands slid around over her glowing skin to find her tits.
They fit into his hands nicely, small but firm and round, with rigid little nipples standing at attention for his thumbs. He kissed the back of her neck as he caressed her breasts, and she wriggled back into him, pushing against his hard-on. Rush kissed her ear and ran the tip of his tongue into it.
She whipped around then, sea-green eyes blazing, mouth open and wild. She grabbed his cock, squeezing it urgently as she lifted her mouth for his kiss. Her tongue went crazy on his, and her teeth clashed with his.
"Come on," she panted, "come on, damn you!"
She was so small, so tiny that his hands met around her slim waist. Rush lifted her as her hands ripped at his pants and pulled out his organ. He lifted her straight up and she swung her legs open as he slid his own legs out and brought her down upon his upthrust prick.
Lorna was small all over; her cunt was tight and clinging. The curly hairs rich upon it were golden, and the notch resisted the swollen size of him. Her arms went around his neck to pull his face down to her trembling breasts and one of her nipples popped into his mouth just as his cock forced up into her writhing, hot body.
She was greedy; she wanted all he had and more, and she wanted it immediately. Lorna slammed down upon him, rolling her pelvis so she could slip all of him into her, so she could come all the way down to the root. She gasped as he filled her, and rotated her trim little butt to grind him around inside her and across the clitoris.
"Oh, you muscular bastard," she moaned, hunching on him, riding his stick and squeezing his legs between her thighs. "Oh, you big, horny man-lay it to me, doll. Cram it in me until I scream-oh-oh, doll-oh yes, you've got it-you've got it. Screw me, screw me-screw me!"
His prick rocked inside her, slid tightly inside that hot velvet sheathing that tried to swallow him whole, that attempted to eat him up. He held to her hips and sucked away at her sweet nipple as Lorna caught handfuls of his hair and rocked madly upon his erect meat, gasping and hissing.
She came a split second before he did, and he fed his own spurting release into the contractions of her pussy, pumping it up that clenching dewy oven, digging his fingers cruelly into Lorna's cheeks and lunging up hard and brutally against her womb.
"Uuuuuhhhh!" she cried, and sagged forward, going limp and unresisting.
Rush's cock pulsed within her, still stiff and powerful. He stood up, holding her in his arms, holding her tightly to him with his penis buried in her. Carefully, he walked them over to the wide, white couch at the far end of the playroom, and lowered Lorna Allison slowly down upon her back.
He went with her, of course, keeping her pinned with his hard meat, holding her supinely in position for his next assault. Lorna's eyes were closed, shielded by metallic lashes.
Rush used one hand to rid himself of his pants, lifted from her upper body long enough to shed his shirt and teeshirt. Naked with her now, he began to stroke insistently into her.
Loma's breath came from her in little gusts, timed to the long, driving strokes of his rod. Her head rolled loosely upon her shoulders, but Rush didn't give a damn if she passed out. He was going to feed it to her good and solid; he was going to screw that lubricated box until he had enough of her.
Because Lorna Allison was all of them rolled into one-all the fancy girls, all the sweet young things, all the lush ripe ones he had avoided because he was going to be a champion some day.
And when that day came, he'd screw them all one by one, the blondes and the redheads and the ones with coal black hair furring their pussys. The rich women and the tender ones; the long and the short and the tall, because he'd given them all up so he could be something to deserve them.
Whatever the hell that meant.
Rush slipped it into her tightness, into that well trained slot where the goodies were kept, where all the sweet hotness and honeyed froth was stored. He stepped up his pace, rolling her up on her shoulders, getting her knees in the grip of both hands and spreading them wide to give himself room to hammer.
"Ah, you bastard," she sighed, eyes snapping open and staring into his. "Ah, I knew it, I knew it. You're a stud, a real, swinging stud. Do it to me, stud horse; do it to me!"
He closed her mouth with his, but it was a strain in that position, so he pulled back and concentrated upon jamming her full of his strong cock. He laid it up into her, pounding and slamming, and when she came, he didn't let her stop.
Selfishly he built to his climax, rolling her around on that brocade couch as if she was a doll, flipping her legs about and using them like handles to tighten and loosen her on his stroking prick.
The orgasm built up from his feet, raced up the backs of his legs and around inside his thighs, then leaped along his penis to hesitate one long moment inside his glans. Then it exploded outward and into her already wet vagina with a power that would not be denied.
In a little while, she slid her legs down his body and straightened them out beneath him. He rolled to one side, but she hung to him, clamping her thighs hard upon his cock to hold it, to keep it captive within herself.
"Wow," she said shakily. "You're a lot of man, doll. I know why the Chinese princess went for you, now. She doesn't usually, you know."
He'd forgotten Lei. Ever since he'd put his hands on this vest pocket Venus, he'd stopped remembering Lei. But now she came back, prodding at him, and Lorna saw her, too.
She said, "Lei will understand. I assure you she will. She and I-well, we have an arrangement. Later, I'll let her tell you about that. But she didn't tell me about you. She was greedy, keeping you all to herself."
He blinked. Lei and Lorna? Some kind of lesbian setup? No, he thought; both of them liked male sex too much. But maybe he was being naive. He'd been only an amateur at sex, and now he was learning just how much he didn't know. Well, it wouldn't be his fault if he wasn't a professional from now on, a real stud. He had a lot to catch up on, and no training regimen was going to hold him back now.
Sighing, Lorna eased him out of herself, pulling back with slow and gentle regret. "We'd better get dressed, doll. There really is a party of sorts here this morning. Not a lot of people, but some interesting ones-including our sweet Lei Ng. I'm sure you two will have much to say to each other."
She moved gracefully from the couch, her tight, modeled butt swaying voluptuously as she crossed the large room and went through a door beside the bar, scooping up her soiled white dress on the way.
Rush climbed off the couch and got into his own clothing. He went to the bar and poured himself a big shot, downing it with relish. He didn't quite understand his prowess as a lover, but he wasn't going to fret over it. All he knew was that he dug sex in a way he'd never known it before, and he thought he'd just keep on digging it, so long as his strength lasted.
He had another belt of good bourbon and puzzled for a moment over Lei and Lorna. Then he thought of the mast in the Shipwreck, and he was more confident about what it held. If the stuff had been found, he'd probably have heard about it in prison. Word like that had a way of getting around.
Now that he knew the owner of the club, as well as the star showgirl there, Rush Scanlon should have no trouble getting to all that treasure.