Chapter 4
Lei was in a corner with him, tucked into a small eddy of the party that had already washed onto the patio and around the pool.
"Rush," she said, "I hoped you wouldn't find out about Lorna. It's-she's difficult to explain. It's not just my job, or the blacklist she could put me on, but it's-well, other things. I-oh hell; I can't explain it to you, and I want to."
"You don't have to," he said. "I discovered how it is with Lorna. She's hard to say no to."
Lei chewed her lips and looked away. "We shouldn't let it matter between us." . "It won't."
"Fine," she said, "that's fine, baby. I have to go mingle, now. Hope I'll see you later."
"Yeah," he said, and watched her flow back into the party.
Only a few people, Loma had said, meaning about twenty guys and girls all sizes and all ages. Funny kind of party, he thought, just getting underway at two-thirty in the morning, when most parties were winding up. There were show girls and musicians and older men who looked jaded and worn; there were sweet young girls who looked as if they should be in bed, alone.
Rush went back to the bar and had a fresh drink. No need to worry about a soft gut and less wind; what the hell for? If by some freakish chance, there was no junk in the mast where he had so carefully sealed it years ago, he was up the creek anyhow.
Out on the patio, a woman yipped, and her squeal was followed by a splash. First in the pool, Rush thought and took his drink outside to see.
Some swimmers had on underwear; some had nothing. There were four couples in the water, sliding around nakedly and laughing it up, grabbing at each other and giggling. Rush stared; he'd never seen anything like it before, and he was getting another lesson in sexual freedom.
A hand touched his, and he looked around at the tiny girl who stood at his elbow. She had on a terrycloth robe and scuffs, and her bronze hair was held back with a white satin ribbon. She looked coppery, burnished; her eyes were dark blue and her mouth was a damp slice of orange. She seemed very young.
"Want to try the pool with me?" she asked. "It's heated, you know."
"Seems that way," he agreed. "Are you legal?"
She grinned up at him. "Everything is legal here. You're Rush Scanlon, aren't you?"
"Guilty, and you?"
"Jan. Are you going swimming or not? Look, if you're fidgety about stripping down in front of everybody, I'll hide you with my robe-"
She spread the robe wide and he sucked in his breath; she was naked beneath it, and she was no child. Jan was built like their hostess, like Lorna Allison-small, but exquisitely modeled. Rush thought she was even smaller than Lorna, and at least as perfect.
The whiskey was racing through his blood, and its tempo speeded at the sight of her erect nipples aiming at him, at the view of her coppery bush gleaming. The hell with it, he thought; if everyone else was going to play games, Rush Scanlon wouldn't be left out. Not this time; not ever again to sit in a corner while the rest of the world went playing by.
He stripped quickly, making a game of trying to stay within the confines of her spread robe, touching her often with hands and elbows and lifted knees, touching her gently and tenderly, but with rising excitement. It was like being surrounded by a feast, by delectable tidbits and exotic offerings, after being so long starved.
Vaguely, he heard the noises around them, the yells and splashing, the music turned high and blasting, the rattle of glasses. Dimly, he was aware of other people, of naked bodies sliding by them, of men and women nude, hairy, smooth. But the attention was concentrated upon the tiny, delicate girl who led him to the shallow end of the pool and slipped into the warm water beside him.
She wasted no time, but floated to him, the water making her skin slippery, tantalizing, as he moved his hands over it, as he cupped small, perfectly shaped breasts and fingered stiff little nipples. Her buttocks were dainty, beautifully modeled and he could almost cover them with the spread fingers of one hand. She seemed ethereal, fragile, but the seeking heat of her mouth was not fairy like; it was direct and hungry, and her tongue darted between his lips to stroke his own.
They drifted in the rippling water, her pubic hair pressing into his belly, his heels anchoring them into position so they wouldn't float away. Rush shut out all else, and his cock swelled in eagerness to know the slim, intriguing creature in his arms.
Jan's hand found his penis and moved up and down on it, stimulating him as he caressed her small, slippery mound, as he felt the marvelous wet velvet of her inner thighs, and the, little round buttocks flexing in pleasure.
He pulled her on top of him, probing for her secret opening, feeling for the hot place hidden in her pubic hair. She squirmed against his tool, slid up and down on it, but hunched back from his efforts.
"Wait," she breathed, "oh wait a little while, Rush. I want to taste you first; I want to take your thing in my mouth and show you how I can thrill you like that."
The liquor, the passion, roared through his brain, numbing him to anything else around them, to sight and sound and presences. He let her have her way, floating back to rest his head on the edge of the swimming pool. His body angled out, and the tiny bronze girl came in between his floating legs to cup his sack in her dainty hands, to lower her fragile rosebud mouth to his cock.
Easily, smoothly, she took it into her mouth, into the warming tickle of her mouth, and he would have thought it wouldn't fit, that she was too small for his big prick. But she wasn't, and she sucked, licking upon it, moving her head up and down, pulling and pumping while she held his buttocks, while she dug sharp little nails into his cheeks to make him lift stronger into her mouth.
Rust let to in her mouth, spasming and grinding his teeth in a blind ecstasy. Jan kept going, kept pulling upon his rod, but gender now, draining him slowly and surely of his semen, taking every droplet of it into herself.
Eyes closed, he floated for awhile, warmed and relaxed, loving and loved. Jan-little good fairy, little magic elf who wanted his cock for the fleshy maleness it was. She let him go and drifted beside him, hand caressing his belly, lips busy at the side of his throat, darting her tongue into his ear now and then.
An expert, this delicate girl who looked so very young, but who was old as sex itself. He opened his eyes and saw bronze hair loose in the water beside him, saw the tiny marble tips of her breasts laved by diamonding water.
Rush stroked her, felt over her cunningly designed body, and slipped a finger into the tight, tight opening he found deep inside her pubic hair. Jan was hot inside, and worked herself twisting upon his hand, still nibbling his ear and throat, and he caressed her clitoris, her cunt, sliding in and out, in and out until she gasped and stiffened out against him.
He needed the rest, and kept his finger in her, let her squirm and grind upon it. So much stuff; so much lovely and demanding sex, all around him. Had it been waiting for him all his monkish life? Had it been here all the time, while he sweated and got punched in the head and watched his belly, his weight, his wind?
What a sucker he had been. What a fool. Always looking forward to the things the title would make possible for him, the big money, the TV money, the tours. And sometime, when he had enough money, and when he was starting to slip a little, then he'd step out gracefully and enjoy all the things he'd put off for so long.
What was wrong with that? Everything. Like slaving his life away in the gyms and on the roads; like taking the gut shots and the hard hooks and coming back for more. Like being a damned hermit who didn't know as much about sex as a ten year old kid.
But he was learning now; he sure as all hell was learning, and he hoped it would be a long, long time until graduation. The title, the big money-who needed it? Look how he was doing without it, without either loot or glory. Three beautiful girls in a matter of days; more sex than he'd had in all his life, and certainly better sex, wilder and more uninhibited.
Jan wriggled on his hand, but she wanted more than that. She wanted his cock, that hard monster she was toying with again, and he was ready now to give it to her.
They changed positions. The girl slid under him, putting her head on the tile, spreading her slim legs for him to come between them. Rush braced his rod against her with one hand, using his other hand to hold her buttocks still, to keep them in place for his shove, his probing that sent him gently into her small, tight box.
He had to struggle to force her wide enough for his entry, had to wiggle and heave and push it into her, slow inch by slow inch. He had never been into a pussy that tight; it was as if she was virginal, but he knew darned well she couldn't possibly be. She was good, though; her vaginal walls squeezed him, rippled on his prick, sucked hungrily on his meat as it worked up inside her to the hilt.
Rush worked it back and forth, once he had it buried in her clenching box, and she loosened just enough to allow his strokes. Great; she was great; she was blazing hot and fist tight, and her sweet little buttocks clamped and unclamped with increasing fervor and fury.
Jan was a miniature screwing machine. She pumped on him, hunching and grinding, rolling her tight little butt and heaving her smooth belly. She laid it to him hot and heavy, moaning and gasping in pleasure, with the lascivious joy of riding his big, pulsing cock.
She shuddered and cried out, and her tight cunt clenched on his prick. He felt the flood of her release, the liquids of her love, and slammed a few more swift thrusts into her to reach his own orgasm He came savagely into her, pumping and pulsing, filling her little organ with the violence and abundance of his semen.
Water splashed around him, but he barely felt the waves of it. He clung to Jan's hips, to the trim little waist, and her legs caressed his lower rib cage. Her face was wet, her eyes closed. The tip of her tongue protruded between her lips.
He needed a drink. He glanced around him, still inside the girl, melting a little now, softening a bit. He saw a couple making love on the edge of the pool, the man atop the woman and pumping furiously, her legs waving in the air.
He saw another man going down on a woman, the man in the pool and the woman sitting wide-legged on the edge with her feet and legs in the water.
Rush needed the drink more than ever. He gently took his cock out of the girl's pussy and moved back from her, straightening in the water that came up to his belly button. Jan stirred and opened her eyes, smiling at him.
"That was wonderful, Rush. Will I see you later? Upstairs, maybe?"
He pulled himself out of the pool. "If I can make it."
Her smile grew wider. "Oh-you can make it. You're a strong man, Rush baby. You've got a staying power, and that's the greatest there is."
He left her drifting in the pool, coppery girl all shined and polished, sliding through the sparkling water like a sea nymph at home in her breeding grounds.
He went to the bar, deserted now by the barkeep, bottles piled carelessly behind it and among half filled glasses. Rush found the bourbon and drank, gulping, from the neck of the fifth, feeling the warmth of the stuff course into his belly to give him strength.
What a hell of a party. He glanced around, and saw three people tangled into a naked mass on the big white couch he'd used earlier with Lorna. The rest of the room was empty, and he recalled Jan saying something about upstairs, about rooms upstairs.
Some of the guests were making it in the pool, and some on the couch. The others had taken to more private beds. Suddenly he realized that it was almost dawn, and that he hadn't seen Lei since their talk earlier. Neither had he seen their hostess, the eager Lorna Allison.
Were they shacking up with somebody now, or were they making it with each other? Funny, but that idea didn't bother him as much as it would have, some years ago. There was plenty to go around, enough for everybody. A guy would be stupid to play jealous and probably spoil it all for himself. He had no kind of string on Lei, and she had none on him.
He could use her help, and would probably get it. If he didn't, there was always Lorna, the boss lady with all the money and the hot, hot pants. Rush didn't know just how he'd go about telling either of them that he needed to get to the Shipwreck bar when the club was closed. He didn't yet figure on telling either of them why.
Two hundred thousand dollars waiting there for him, maybe a shade more. The stuff was almost certain to be pure, uncut heroin, carefully weighed into kilos. It wouldn't rust or weaken, and it would buy Rush Scanlon, onetime hotshot middleweight, all the freedom and all the time to do things like he'd been doing lately.
He couldn't expect to move in a really wealthy set, but he wouldn't need to. Land and a house, clear of debt; money in the bank and some tucked away the feds wouldn't know about. Time to hunt and run a few cows and maybe some blooded horses, back in the mountains where nobody would bother him. A woman or two, maybe more; move them in and out as he damned well pleased. Screw all he wanted and when he wanted, with sexy chicks like Lei and Lorna and Jan.
This evening, he thought, and took another shot of bourbon from the bottle. His lips were turning numb and he thought he was getting high, maybe even stiff. This evening, he'd have to make some kind of move toward the stuff hidden in the boat mast.
Not that he wasn't getting along fine, just as things were going, but this sensual paradise couldn't last forever. Somebody would get tired of the games someone else played, and that would be that. So Rush Scanlon had to set up his annuity, because just getting the stuff wasn't enough. He still had to peddle it, and that meant laying himself open to some rough people.
Rush had one more, the nightcap, and thought he'd find a place to sleep it off. He made unsteadily for the stairs, and a small hand took his elbow. "Need a lift, Rush?"
Jan, looking hopelessly young and impossibly new. "Hey, Jan," he said to her. "You never told me your last name. If we're gonna' be all this intimate, we oughta be properly introduced, right?"
She grinned at him. "Thought you knew, since my mama brought you here. My name is Allison, darling-Jan Allison. Lorna is my sweet and understanding mother."