Chapter 8

Doris Block had just showered, and she'd slipped into a thin blue robe before combing her hair. The phone rang; and when she answered it she didn't recognize the voice. The name meant nothing to her.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Hack Bell," he repeated. "I've got to see you right away, ma'am."

"What do you want?" she asked, the irritation rising in her voice.

"I'm the manager of The Plaza. And I've got to see you right away. In private."

Hack Bell was fidgety and a bit frightened. Ever since he'd overheard Packer bragging about making it with the rich Dottie Block, Hack had made up his mind he was going to get some of that rich stuff, too. It had taken him over a week to get up enough courage.

This morning when he'd awakened he'd decided that he was going through with it, no matter what happened. There had been too many nights when he'd been lying awake, thinking about Dottie and imagining how it would be with her. After he's showered he'd put on the only suit that he owned. Then he went to a phone booth that was less than a block from the apartment house where Dottie and Luther Block lived.

Now that he had Dottie on the phone and was actually talking to her he wondered whether he should hang up and forget about her. No. He couldn't do that. He'd never be able to forget her if he didn't go through with it. He had to prove to himself and to Packer that he was a better man. And he'd do it with the best: Dottie Block.

Now she was saying, "I don't know anything about The Plaza. My husband takes care of those matters, as you know ... "

"I'm not talking about The Plaza," Hack interrupted. "I've got to see you about something private, and very personal. Now do you know what I mean?"

"No, I don't know what you mean. I hardly know you...."

"But you've seen me around. Maybe you didn't pay any attention to me ... but I sure noticed you. You're very pretty."

"Say, what is this?"

"Don't get mad at me and hang up. I just want to talk to you-about Packer."

"Packer?"

"Sure. He's the kid that works for me part-time here at The Plaza. You sure know him."

There was a pause and then Dottie said, "Oh, I see. Did he ask you to call me?"

"Well ... in a way he did, and then again he didn't."

"In that case," she said, "perhaps I'd better see you."

Hack's face beamed. "I'll be right up."

"No! You can't come up here! I'll have to meet you somewhere else. I'll meet you in Dr. Stone's office in a half hour."

As Dottie slipped out of her robe and began to dress she tried to remember what Hack Bell looked like. She could only recall that he was a man in his fifties, rather short with a slight build.

When Dottie got to the doctor's office and found Hack in the same room where she'd met Packer, she studied Hack closely. Sitting in the chair he seemed rather anemic and almost pathetic. His mouth was partly open and his eyes watched her hungrily.

She closed the door firmly and locked it. Not even Olive Stone was going to have a chance to see her with this one. She sat down in a chair across from Hack and crossed her legs. His glance fixed itself on the nylon sheathed limbs and remained there.

"All right," she said. "What do you want?"

Hack licked his lips and then cleared his throat. "I ... I know about you and Packer."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Hack's eyes widened. He'd never imagined that she would talk like this. She'd always seemed so cool and poised. Her voice, and the words she used, were no different than some of the tough girls he'd known in his own neighborhood when he'd been young. So now he felt on an equal footing with her.

"You went to bed with Packer. I know all about it. You passed him a note and invited him over. You asked him to screw you."

Dottie caught and held her breath. "You're out of your mind," she bluffed.

"I know all about it. I can even give you some of the details if you want me to prove it." He hoped she wouldn't take him up on it, because he knew only what he'd heard.

"This is ridiculous," Dottie said, forcing a smile. "I have nothing to hide. Especially something like that."

"I think you do have something to hide. I'm not so sure that you want your husband to hear about it. He might even divorce you. A rich couple like you ... getting divorced ... that would make headlines in the paper. That would sell a lot of papers. People like to read about rich dames like you making it with young kids while the old man is away, making more money for you to spend."

Dottie could no longer smile about it. Neither could she pretend that it didn't matter. Hack Bell apparently knew something about her and Packer and he meant to use that information to his best advantage.

"All right," she said. "First of all there's no truth to what you're talking about. I don't even know a kid named Packer. But apparently you need some extra money. Maybe you want to buy yourself a girl. So, to avoid any trouble I'll pay you to keep quiet. How much do you want?"

Hack shook his head.

"You don't want money?"

"I don't want any money from you."

"Then what's the reason for all this nonsense If you don't want any money, what do you want?

"You," Hack said. "I just want you." He grinned, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Dottie studied him through slitted lashes Now that he'd made his proposition anc straightened up he didn't seem quite as small and insignificant any more. His feet were set apart on the rug and his thighs bulged under his slacks. Not only that, there was a tremendous bulge visible under his zipper. Dottie suddenly became aware o the tingling in her breasts and the heat coursing u and down her thighs

"And if I let you take me-will you keep your mouth shut after that?"

Hack nodded slowly. "I won't tell a soul. I' keep my mouth shut. I'm not like Packer. I won't talk about it. Not only that, I'm better than Packer is now, or ever will be. That's the way I figured it If you needed someone like him to screw you, why not me, and you'll get a bigger charge out of it?"

He certainly talked a very good line, Dottie thought. But why not let him, now that he was here? She felt that he would keep his mouth shut and her husband, Luther, wouldn't hear about it.

She smiled and kicked off her shoes. "You aren't diseased, are you?"

"No, ma'am. I'm very careful about where stick my tool. Always have been."

"Then let's get at it," she said.

As Dottie began to undress she found that she was being reminded of the old days. At that time she'd been much younger, of course. Traveling with the road shows, a girl in the chorus line, Dottie had had a lot of one-night stands. After they'd closed the show each night there was always a man that wanted to sleep with her; and she would take them to her cheap hotel room. Without any preliminaries or words they'd both undress; and they'd get to gether lik a couple of animals. Quick and fast and then it would be over with.

That's the way it had been until she'd met Luther. Men had come and gone in the night, but Luther had returned the second night. He'd been well-dressed and he seemed to have a lot of money, but in the beginning she hadn't been impressed. She'd thought him just another guy with a flashy front and nothing to back him. Maybe that had been the reason that Luther had panted after her, from town to town, and finally asked her to marry him. She was so tired of traveling and the drag of everyday living that she told him she would.

Then she discovered that he actually owned several apartment houses and motels and that he was very rich. She was grateful and she thought she loved him; but during the days when he was gone, she could that she hungered for more sex than he could supply. Like a caged panther she'd paced back and forth in the apartment, fighting the heat that seethed within her. Finally she'd gone to see Dr. Stone; and after that the arrangement had been satisfactory enough. Whenever she needed a man she could come here. If no man was available, there was always Olive Stone.

Now as Dottie skinned the panties down her legs and tossed them aside she saw that Hack Bell was already undressed. With the fire in her thighs and the passion hurting her breasts she went over and settled down on the pink-sheeted couch.

"Like I said, you're very pretty." He was standing at the edge of the couch.

Dottie kept her eyes closed. "Just get on with it," she said. "We made a deal."

"Sure," he said. "We sure did."

She sucked in her breath and held it, expecting him to fall on top of her. As long as she kept her eyes closed and didn't look at it, she could pretend that he was just about anyone that she wanted to.

But his body didn't drop on top of her the way she'd expected. Instead, his hands moved quickly and softly over her entire body as though he were searching for her most erotic areas. Lightly they slid over her stomach, cupped her breasts briefly and then touched the mound of her sex. The next moment his hands were caressing her calves, then her ankles, and finally stroking the bottoms of her feet.

Dottie couldn't suppress the groan of delight that welled up in her throat. She felt the fires of passion throbbing within her, but at the same time her limbs seemed drugged and she was unable to move. She was aware that he'd moved her legs apart and she anticipated that he'd squirm in between them. A second later his hands were on her chest, caressing, touching, and then she felt his face as it snuggled itself in the valley of her breasts.

Her arms felt weighted down but she managed to bring them up so that her hands could massage his sparse head of hair. His lips had now found her right nipple. As he fastened on it and drew it into his mouth she dropped her hands and arched her body. Just as quickly as he'd started he moved away from her breast. Dottie settled her body back down again, squirming and writhing and awaiting the next touch of his mouth and hands.

And that's the way it continued. One moment his mouth and tongue were tickling and licking one part of her body and then he'd move on to some other part, while his hands continued to caress and stroke. She discovered that he was a skillful lover. He knew how to tantalize and tease her. Slowly and deliriously he brought her to one stage of passion and then went on to the next.

She felt the passion and desire seething within her. Her body was sheathed with flames and the core of her sex was a huge cavern of molten lava that screamed for fulfillment. She was now at the stage where she couldn't wait any longer. She cried out for him, she begged for him to take her. Her body pitched and rocked with the torture of her desire.

Finally, when he hadn't responded to her pleas and wishes and she was on the verge of screaming out her frustrations, she wondered whether this might not be the extent of his capability. Perhaps he was unable to complete that which he'd started, and he meant to leave her suspended on the highest peak of passion.

He'd only been toying with her. Because the next second she found him sliding on top of her and simultaneously he probed and drove into her. He was like a bull, wild and powerful. The scream that had begun died in her throat.

She brought her own body up to his and she held him tightly while she buried her face in the damp creases of his neck. Deep and big within her the savage fires peaked as a result of his powerful thrusts; and quickly her entire body burst open and she was engulfed in the exquisite spasm of the climax that rocked through her body and drained her completely.

She fell back exhausted, her entire body still tingling with passionate bliss; and she realized that there had never been anyone like him. Of all the men she'd ever known, the one-nighters, Packer, and including her husband, Luther, none of them could compete with Hack Bell.

Dottie felt him moving away from her. She now opened her eyes to stare at him in admiration and awe. He was sitting on the bed, looking down at her. Again she couldn't believe that his size and age could have evoked the response which she'd just felt.

"Damn you," she said softly. "Damn you, you're great."

Hack nodded. "Didn't I tell you I was better than any of them?"

"You're terrific."

"Better than Packer. Just like I told you."

She squirmed around on the sheet and pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. "Ummmmm," she moaned softly. "I'd like some more of that."

"Sure. Anytime. Just call me, or drop off a note."

"I mean now," she said. She sat up and her hands gently caressed his bare arm. "I want some more right now."

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe in a couple of hours."

She tugged at his arm, trying to pull him towards her. "I can't wait a couple of hours. It has to be now. Right away. Come on."

She'd struggled to her knees. Now she tugged at his arm until he toppled onto the couch. She pushed on him until he was on his back. For a quick second her glance studied his slight frame. Tenderly her hands caressed his chest, his stomach, and his legs. Then they found the item of joy that had brought her such exquisite delights moments ago.

"It won't be a couple of hours," she panted. "It'll be very soon. You'll see."

Like a cat she was crouched over him. While her hands caressed and stroked, her tongue and lips tickled and teased. She purred throatily when she discovered a slight revival; and then she hungrily drew him into her mouth. Her wet tongue swirled and curled around him while she suctioned in slow and leisurely spasms, becoming aware that he was filling up again and getting bigger. Within minutes she'd revived him completely.

"Hey, that's pretty good." He started to sit up. His hands came forward and clutched at her, trying to draw her into his embrace.

She shoved him back down again. "This one is on me," she panted. "You deserve to relax and enjoy this one."

Sensually she slid on top of him. Her tongue, cat-like, washed his chest. On her knees and straddling him, her head was lowered onto his chest.

Hack was looking at the top of her head. The mass of blonde hair had slipped forward, completely shrouding her face. He heard her moaning throatily and felt her gripping him tightly as she guided him towards the pit of her passion.

Suddenly she'd fitted herself to him. As she straightened up she settled down upon him, driving him deep within her.

Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed. One hand pushed the damp hair away from her cheek. "Oh, you're the greatest!"

He chuckled softly. "I made a believer out of you, didn't I?" He dug his heels into the couch and arched slightly.

"Oh," she gasped. She began to twist her body slightly from side to side. At the same time she was raising and lowering herself. "It's deep," she panted. "It's so deep I can hardly breathe."

As she moved up and down in the slow and leisurely tempo, Hack felt the fresh heat and juices. Sitting above him she appeared to be a picture of lust. With her teeth bared and her breast heaving, she was like a golden savage. He reached up and grabbed her thrusting breasts.

They were hot and hard in his grip. Powerfully he held on to them, letting his fingernails bite into the heated golden skin.

"That feels great," she gasped. "Everything feels great. I've never felt anything like this."

This time he really arched and drove himself against her, probing her innermost depths. He found that his body was caught in the throes of the greatest ecstasy. He was no longer content to let her move up and down and around him.

His hands slid off her breasts, and now he was throwing himself up at her, every time she came down. The fires of passion tingled and throbbed through him, from his toes to his scalp.

Faster and faster they were now moving together. He gasped and fought to catch his breath; and she moaned and panted and babbled about how good it felt. With a quick rush the climactic peak of his ecstasy engulfed him. Like a wild man he slammed against her as she pounded him.

Suddenly she muffled a deep-throated scream and fell forward. With her perfumed and hot face pressed against his cheek he felt her convulse and spasm, and then they were pushing against each other and wallowing frantically in the final and climactic stage of their orgasm.

He didn't move. He lay completely spent and exhausted, trying to catch his breath. She was motionless, her damp and heated skin pressed against him.

After a while she stirred, moaned throatily and rolled off the top of him. She was now sprawled on the couch beside him. Her eyes were still closed and her taut breasts rose and fell with each breath.

"You're the best," she said. 'The best."

"Didn't I tell you?" he asked proudly. "That's what I told you. I proved it to all of them, didn't I?"

"I don't know who you proved it to," she said. "But you sure proved it to me."

Dottie Block suddenly jumped off the couch and stared at the closed and locked door.

Outside, in the hallway, she'd just heard the sound of her husband's voice.