Chapter 6
"What happened, ladies?" Leroy asks, interrupted from his paperwork by the knock on the door and surprised to see them standing there. He grins.
"They were too much for you, huh?" he asks. "I'd say it was the other way around," Cynthia replies.
"Listen, could you two banter later?" Helen interjects. "Right now, I have to use your bathroom in the worst way."
"Me too," Cynthia says.
And they march by the bemused Leroy in his shirtsleeves.
He shrugs and returns to what he was doing, seated in a chair in front of the room's circular table, papers spread before him.
He really has no time for this babysitting, so he is catching up on a few loose ends as best he can without a law library or secretarial assistance being available.
In fact, but for the astronomical retainer his major client pays him, he would not have gotten himself into anything like this.
And he cannot wait until tomorrow, when he can deliver the muscle next door to his client and be on his way.
The water runs a long time behind the closed bathroom door.
Finally, they emerge.
He looks up at them.
Their faces are expressionless masks.
"Didn't work out, huh?" he asks.
"They seem to have become ... specialized."
He grins.
And Cynthia cannot help it.
She grins back.
Helen joins them.
And all three laugh raucously.
One might say that compassion is not one of their strong points. None of them.
"So," Leroy says, "life goes on."
"Any more brilliant ideas?" Cynthia asks. "Looking for the real black animal, huh?" Leroy observes.
"Something like that," Cynthia replies.
Leroy shakes his head.
"You don't wanna do this," he says.
"How would you know?"
"Hey, it's not a black thing, all right?
"It's, like, universal, you know?
"Men were meant to be men.
"Meaning civilized beings, differentiated from the lower animals, the beasts of the wild, in all things."
"That's heavy," Cynthia says, her tone sarcastic, mocking.
"I'm not kidding, Cynthia.
"When a man, any man, black, white, or purple, becomes an animal, you really don't wanna be around him."
"Suppose you let us be the judges of that," Cynthia replies, "or is the real problem simply that you can't deliver?"
He looks at her a long moment before replying, "Hey, I have no obligation to deliver you anything, Cynthia.
"I'm just giving you sound advice for your own good."
"And if I want advice from a lawyer, I'll pay for it." He grins.
"You know, you're right?
"Shows you how impressed with you I really am.
"First time I ever did that."
"I won't tell if you won't," Cynthia says.
They fall silent.
And Leroy appears to make up his mind about something.
"Okay," he says, "Lesson time."
"Oh?"
"You want animal? "You get animal."
"Go for it." He shrugs.
And removes a small, black address/telephone book from his briefcase.
He looks up a number and dials.
"He there? ... Tell 'im it's his lawyer....
"Hey, Rex! What it is?....
"Listen, Rex. Got me a couple hot white pussies lookin' for black dick....
"No, no, too much for me, pal. I tried, but they're lookin' for a real animal.
"So of course I thought of you at once....
"Yeah, ha ha ... So. You interested, or what?....
"No, no. We deliver....
"Yeah, I'll be filing for continuance, uh, Tuesday, I think ... I knew, Rex, I know. That's not why I called you. You wanna go on the clock, we'll talk, but ... Thought not.
"Okay, Rex, they will be there in, say, a couple hours ... Oh, don't mention it.
"Just remember, upon your performance rests the prowess of your people ... I know you will, Rex.
"Ciao, baby."
Turning to the women, "You ladies are all set."
"We appreciate your interest and concern."
"Not at all, not at all.
"The limo is at your disposal.
"I'll just see you off.
"Gotta tell Charlie where to go."
They troop down to the waiting limo.
Charlie, leaning against the fender of the long, sleek machine, comes to attention, folds his paper, and puts on his cap, coming around to open the rear door for his passengers.
The two women get in.
Charlie listens attentively to Leroy's instructions, then gets behind the wheel.
And Cynthia realizes that they are heading back toward the city.
And now, into it.
Midtown, uptown, the Bronx.
A hi-rise.
And a large black man, carrying a two-way radio, knocks imperiously on Charlie's window.
They see Charlie talking to the man, jerking a thumb back in their direction.
The man nods, then speaks into his radio.
He nods, as though whoever is at the other end can see him.
And walks around the limo, opening the door for them at the curb.
Everyone is black here.
And several teenagers and adults stop to watch them emerge onto the sidewalk.
"Fuck you mothafuckahs lookin' at?
"You need help movin' yo' black asses?"
They do not, not cringing, bur not sticking around, either.
To the women', "First elevator on de end. See the dude wif de rahdio."
They pass into the lobby, threading their way through trash.
Where a short, squat black man, a two-way radio in one hand, holds open the door to the thickly graffitied interior of the elevator.
An old man starts to follow them.
"Back off, mothafuckah!" the man with the walkie-talkie snarls.
And takes a threatening step toward him.
"No problem, babe, no problem," the old man says, hands before him in a calming motion, placating.
He does not back off, but neither does he advance, standing there watching as the elevator door closes slowly.
"Old sumbitch mothafuckah," the offended one mumbles, riding up with them.
Sportshirt, slacks, sunglasses and walkie-talkie, this time sported by a tall, muscular skinhead greets them.
And their escort takes the elevator back down.
Two raps on the door opposite the elevator and a long peer into the bullseye opens it.
And another sportshirt and sunglasses peeks out to peer into the foyer, this way and that, before admitting the two of them.
And it is another world from that outside, a world of chrome and glass and smooth, unbroken planes of primary colors, oversized canvasses in thin brass frames against whitewashed brick walls, large ferns breaking the geometric motif of the dcor.
A large, light-skinned black with pencil-thin moustache and shaven head reclines on an overstuffed couch in a thin robe.
Cynthia thinks, He looks like Bruce's larger, bald brother.
He is flanked by two gorgeous, light-skinned black women, similarly lightly clad, their robes raspberry and aqua respectively, in contrast to his, which is plain white.
He rises, and they look up at him, realizing that he is almost seven feet tall, and wide as a bam door.
He steps around the low, clear glass coffee table and advances, smiling.
"Understand I got what you're lookin' for," he says. "Question is, do you have anythin' that interests me?"
They look at him.
"No sweat, ladies.
"Westphalia and Chlorine here, they gonna put on a little show wif y'all.
"I like what I see, you in."
"I, uh, I don't think that you-" Helen begins.
But Cynthia grabs her wrist, silencing her.
"We need a few minutes to freshen up," Cynthia says.
"Westphalia, Chlorine, assist them."
"I don't think we need any-"
Again, Cynthia grabs Helen's wrist.
"This way ladies," one of the black girls says.
And leads them through a magnificently appointed bedroom in the ultra-modern style to a bathroom of similarly grandiose proportions, tilefloored, marble walled, with sunken tub and large, glassed-in shower stall.
Where, to the women's surprise, the black girls also strip.
To reveal their large breasts and hips and buttocks, their narrow waists.
The naked girls take their clothes from them, disappearing into the bedroom to hang them up neatly.
And their purses as well.
"Don't worry," one of them smiles, "with all the money around here, we wouldn't care if you were carry in' thousands."
"What, uh, kind of business is ... Rex in, anyway?"
"Wholesale supply of basic needs," Chlorine responds. The women look at her, puzzled. "Bulk crack," Westphalia supplies. "Uh huh."
Which explains the remark about the money.
And why Rex needs Leroy's services.
But they care nothing of this.
That is between Rex, his customers, his conscience, and the law.
They want only one thing from him.
And now, all four of them enter the shower stall.
"Don't want they to be no question about how clean who is here," Chlorine explains.
"Thass right," Westphalia says. "Fo' whut Rex wantsa see, we gots to be absolutely squeeky, all of us."
And they shower, paying the appropriate attention to detail, under the watchful eyes of their duskier counterparts.
They dry off with thick, oversized towels, of which there seem to be stacks and stacks.
And go back into the bedroom to find silken robes awaiting them, Cynthia's gold, Helen's lime.
And the girls lead them back into the living room, where Rex is watching TV.
Which he turns off with the remote as soon as they enter.
"Ah! Four lovelier creatures never existed, I'm sure!" he exclaims.
Which does not sound all that animalistic to the women.
Perhaps, they think, Leroy does not know Rex as well as he thinks.
"Blaster an' Rastus be downstairs now, Rex," Howard, the inside man, says, having just received the information on his radio.
"Later," Rex says, glaring at Howard, resenting the interruption.
"But-"
"Ah said, later, fool! "Don'tchoo lissen none?"
"Yeah, sure, but-"
"You move yo' black ass outside the do', mofo'!
"I wants you, I sends fo' you!
"Like I s'pose you cain't see ah'm busy right now.
"Go on! Git!"
Howard leaves.
"Sorry, ladies.
"Man has no sense of priorities.
"I fear he shall remain a subordinate indefinitely.
"How sad that one so young should have already peaked.
"But now, into the playroom, the four of you!"
And Chlorine and Westphalia bounce into the bedroom, Cynthia and Helen following, fighting the temptation to look back with a questioning glance at Rex.
"Okay, girls, a little hospitality!" Rex says. "Eat each othah where you shit!"
And now, the women look at him.
To see his face ruddy beneath the light tan skin.
And a glint in his eye, which smacks of dementia.
Quickly, the girls strip out of their robes, assisting the women to do the same when they hesitate.
And Cynthia and Helen cannot say by what feat of dexterity they suddenly find themselves on the huge, circular bed on their backs, the black girls reversed above them.
And spreading and raising the cheeks of the white asses, exposing the large, pink stars of their ass holes.
And going down on them at once.
As they gyrate their own hips into position on the women's faces.
So that they are indeed sucking each others' ass holes.
Much to Rex's obvious delight. And Cynthia's eyes open wide as she glances sideways, even while eating Chlorine's puffy, mauve star.
To see Rex's yardarm of a cock, darker than the rest of him, the huge plum of a head taut, shiny, purple with the engorged blood of his sexual arousal.
As it peeks out of his robe.
As he crawls around on the bed, observing in infinite detail the rimming action.
And The phone rings, on the ntght stand.
Incredulous, Rex picks it up.
And his face darkens with anger.
"Ah tole Howard and ah'm tellin' you, Bruce!
"They are to wait!....
"Say what...?
"You tell Chaka I said he is to wait with the rest!
"And Bruce, pass the word.
"The nex' dumb mothafuckah calls me, knocks on my do', does anythin' befo' ah gives de woid, he bes' make beautiful sounds, because baby, those be his last noises in this world!
"You got me? ... Good!"
And he slams down the phone.
"Now then, ladies," he says, "I see that you have followed my instructions, let's see you eat each others' pussies now."
And the women comply, following the girls' lead.
"And that's enough of that," Rex says, not really giving them the time to get warmed up.
All four females sit up, looking at him.
As he pulls a silver dollar from his pocket.
"You!" he says to Cynthia, "Call it!"
"Heads," she says, shrugging.
It lands on the bed.
"Heads it is!" he says.
And, to Helen, "That means you tails!"
And he removes his robe.
And the women see that he is indeed a magnificent beast of a man.
And the two girls flank Cynthia, as Rex straddles her chest.
And they watch closely as he inserts the great bulb of his cock into her mouth and begins pumping, fucking her face.
And this too does not continue long enough for her to really warm to the task.
Because now, he pulls back.
And the two girls, as though the movement were choreographed, lift and spread Cynthia's legs.
And the huge salami shafts smoothly into her.
And she thinks, his is even bigger than those of Bruce's geeks!
And some instinct warns her to relax her mind, to abandon herself immediately and completely.
So that she is totally opened to the sensations generated by the mammoth monolith as it begins its piston action.
And she understands that this is what a man acts like when he becomes an animal.
Which is not the abandonment of himself to his sexual instincts so much as it is the concentration on, concern with, himself, to the total exclusion of the rest of the world, from his partner in the bed to his partners in crime, down on the street.
And she sees that Leroy was correct.
She doesn't want to be around a man when he behaves like an animal.
With no concerns, no feelings for anyone or anything outside himself.
How sad, she thinks, that one so magnificently endowed should choose to turn himself into a rutting boar.
"You othah one!" he says, seeing Helen standing there, watching. "Git back there an' get busy!"
And Helen, bemused, complies.
So that now she pulls the big boulders of his buttocks apart and begins to rim him.
And Helen, too, thinks, What a shame that he is this way.
Because she would have loved to explore every facet of his magnificent body, his monstrous cock. But not like this.
Not as a command performance, a one-way, directed action.
So that now, as she sucks his ass hole, she thinks, This really sucks!
But at least Cynthia is going to get off.
No thanks to him, of course.
Since he makes it so plain that he does not care what, if anything he can do for her.
No, this hog cares only for his own jollies.
He is on an ego trip, a power trip, a one man, one way trip.
Which, even now, is coming to an end.
Because he does not restrain himself, and Cynthia finds this lack of restraint, added to his magnificent equipment, enough of a stimulating experience to come.
Which he, feeling the spasms of her multiple orgasms milking his power pole of its load, takes full credit for.
"You needed that big, black animal cock in you, huh babe?
Thass right, thass right, you jus' let Rex take keh y'all.
"This big salami is here fo' de axin'! "Ain't that right, girls?"
"Sho' 'miff, Rex!"
"Amen to that, honey!"
And, as Cynthia's final spasm passes, she thinks, the money around here must be very good indeed. Because, to massage an ego this large, the remuneration would have to be astronomical, as far as she is concerned.
In fact, were it herself in this situation, they don't print money in denominations that large.
And now, he is done.
And he does not bother to put on a robe. Naked, he strides out of the bedroom, through the living room, and opens the door. "Okay, Melvin, let 'em up, one at a time."
"Right, boss."
Then, to Howard, who is staring at his huge, wet cock, "Fuck you starin' at, niggah?
"Get choor black ass in here an' break out the goodies!"
"Melvin, have Bruce send the first one up. He goes back into the bedroom. "Ladies, thanks for stopping by. "Please, take your time cleaning up. "And just remember, what choo see here stays here.
"Leroy wouldn't have sent you if I couldn't trust you, but just so you know."
Cynthia and Helen clean up in the bathroom and get dressed.
And they are treated to the odd sight of Rex, once more in his robe, seated before the huge glass coffee table.
Which is now covered with what appear to be boxes of Jolly Clown popcorn, of which Howard piles more and more on, out of a closet.
And it is very expensive popcorn indeed.
Because Cynthia observes large bills going from the hands of a rather well dressed black man to those of Rex, in return for a few boxes, which he takes with him:
"Uh, whyn't choo hole de elevatah there, Harold?" he suggests to the man who has just bought his "popcorn" and turned to leave.
"These ladies will be goin' down.
"Ciao, ladies."
Rex is latin for king, Cynthia realizes. And the king has just dismissed them from his presence.
And Westphalia and Chlorine flank him on the couch, once more in their light, colorful robes, as the women leave.
"Terrific!" Helen complains. "Some neighborhood! "And no limo.
"And I didn't even get laid!"
"You didn't miss much, I can assure you.
"What a shame! All that equipment and the man's a pig."
"Yeah, that's not exactly the animal performance we had in mind."
"Excuse me, ladies!"
They turn.
He is tall and trim and a light chocolate. "My name is Chaka."
"Oh, yes, we heard-"
And Cynthia grabs Helen's wrist.
"I presume that you are the cause of this rather interesting line halfway up the block of which I am, unfortunately a part."
Cynthia looks at him a long moment, before replying, "You'll have to talk to Rex about that."
"Oh, I'm nor complaining.
"After all, Rex means king, does it not?"
"You know latin, do you?" Cynthia asks.
"Certainly," he replies. "Rex means king. Whereas rectum means ass hole."
The three of them laugh.
"I was wondering if I could possibly take you wherever you'd like to go."
"And lose your place in line?"
"Oh, don't worry about that.
"I have already made other arrangements.
"I wished to see Rex this time merely in order to tell him of the changes I have been forced to make."
"Forced?"
"Can we go somewhere and discuss this?
"The, uh ... sidewalks have ears.
"And I believe that you ladies can be of some assistance to me, if you are willing.
"In turn, perhaps I can help you with whatever might be of interest to you."