Chapter 6
Alice in Wonderland. That's all Rufe can think of, as they sit here at the rest stop, picnicking on roast cornish game hens and chablis.
He saw the Disney movie, and now, here they are, in the country, on a bright summer day, reality transformed into the surreal by this beautiful, rich Alice in her sun-backed frock.
All that is missing is the Mad Hatter and the other odd creatures.
Because Alice herself is here, on her unreal mission.
And pouring the wine.
And picking out fruit and cheese and assorted goodies from the picnic hamper she has had Juanita pack for them.
And Rufe sits there, munching, staring at her, issuing the occasional monosyllabic response to her mostly rhetorical questions.
Not that she pays attention to the answers.
She is excited, animated at the prospect of a meeting which, to the best of Rufe's knowledge, is based entirely on her own initiative and of which the champ and his people know nothing.
And she is going up there at what has to be a point of maximum intensity in the champ's training.
As far as he can tell, she is being really stupid, really thick about this.
She asks him all kinds of silly, off the wall questions to which he cannot possibly know the answers.
But she does not ask him his opinion of whether or not she should be doing this.
And he is in no position to volunteer his admittedly humble opinion.
But fuck it anyway, he thinks. She will go up there, she will get her stones crushed, and they will return, with her slumping in the back seat like a sack of dirty laundry.
So he sits there, bemused, eating his lunch, enjoying the day, ignoring the chatter. As her one-woman celebration continues. It started yesterday.
And he does not deceive himself as to where her head was at as he serviced her.
Yes, he was the champ yesterday, a much more realistic simulation than her vibrator.
Still felt pretty good, he reasons.
And what the hell, he had the option of putting his head wherever he wanted.
But she is beautiful enough, voluptuous enough, hot enough that he was content to let her be herself.
"Had enough?" she asks.
"Yes, thanks."
"Me too."
And she goes off to the woods to tinkle, as he puts everything back in the hamper, puts the hamper in the trunk, where there is barely room for it because of her luggage.
And he finds a tree for his own use, meeting her on the way back to the car.
He opens the door for her, she seats herself, and it seems to him that, as he closes the door, the solid thump marks the close of one chapter in this crazy adventure, the beginning of another.
"Up the highway, right at the first turnoff, about half a mile up that road, you'll see the sign on the left, with the champ's picture on it.
"That's the entrance. You can't miss it."
"Thanks."
And now, they are here.
There is a movable barrier across the road.
Rufe honks and a man emerges from a little shed to one side.
"What can I do for ya, buddy?"
"Ask her," Rufe says, jerking his thumb back toward the rear of the limo.
Apparently having some experience with such vehicles, the security man walks around the back of the limo.
And stands there, looking at the opaque, one-way glass until it rolls down.
"I'd like to see Teddy," Cynthia smiles.
"You got an appointment?"
"No."
"He know you?"
"No. That's one of the things I'm here to accomplish."
"Wait here. I'll get the trainer. They're at lunch."
He disappears into the shed, apparently to use the phone.
And does not reappear.
Instead, Tony walks down the short road from the building complex. And he too has had experience with limo's.
Because he walks down the right side of the car to the rear window. "What's up."
"I'd like to see Teddy.
"And no I don't have an appointment and no, he neither knows nor is he expecting me."
"Innat case, you come a long way for nuthin', lady."
"If I can hear the same from him, I assure you, I will leave promptly."
"Write 'im a letter, lady. "I'll see he gets it. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Then I take it, you won't raise the gate."
"You got that right, lady."
"Oh, dear.
"Lucky I wore flats, then." And she gets out of the limo. "Now look, lady--. "
"Aren't you heing a bit childish about this?" she asks.
And she towers over him.
So that he finds himself staring into her generous decolletage.
He sighs.
"Listen, lady, I got a schedule to maintain here."
"Then don't let me detain you. "And could you direct me to where the champ is at the moment?"
"No, you don't understand, lady. It's his schedule, not mine. "And he don't have no time for."
"What?"
And Tony turns around to see Teddy standing behind him. "What don't I have time for, Tony? "Especially since I need an hour after lunch. "Hello, there!"
And he shoulders his way past Tony. "I'm Teddy Robinson.
"But then, I guess you know that already, or you wouldn't be here."
"No, I wouldn't. I'm Cynthia Harrington.
"Or, if you prefer, Mrs. Chipper Harrington III."
He eyes her up and down, very clearly liking what he sees.
"Well, Mrs. Harrington, exactly what can I do for you?"
"You can win."
He smiles.
"A fan, huh?
"Looks like you come a long way for an autograph."
"I don't want an autograph."
"Oh? Then what do you want."
"I want to help."
"Hear that, Tony? Lady wants your job. "And I can see she is obviously well qualified.
"So, Tony, it's been real but, unfortunately, I've had to make a hard decision."
"Yeah, yeah, quit kiddin' around, will ya?"
Then, to Cynthia, "Listen lady, we got a pretty heavy schedule, comin' so close to the main event an' all, so if you will kindly be on your way--"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Tone!
"Lady says she wants to help.
"Just what did you have in mind, uh-"
"Cynthia."
"Cynthia. Of course.
"Well, Cynthia, just what is it you want to do to help me?"
She looks at him a long moment before replying, "Anything Tony can't." Teddy smiles.
Then, he breaks up in guffaws. When he recovers, he puts an arm over Tony's shoulders.
And says, "Tony, I want choo ta meet the newest member of the team.
"Cynthia, this here's Tony, my trainer.
"Tony, you help the driver of this tank to find a berth in with the sparring partners.
"Cynthia and I have to discuss, uh, short range strategy."
"You're the boss, Teddy, but do you really think this is such a-"
"Tony, you just said it all.
"I am indeed the boss.
"Now, get the driver and the limo taken care of quick.
"We got a schedule to keep, remember?" Grumpily, Tony says, "Open 'er up, Tom. Comin' through."
And slides into the front seat next to Rufe.
Cynthia and Teddy watch them drive through and Teddy leads her up a wooded path.
Teddy, huge, graceless, formless in his training sweats, walks beside her, hands shoved into the back of his pants, beneath the draw string.
"I just wanna be sure there's no misunderstanding here," he says.
Because it is unbelievable.
White, stacked, rich, beautiful, married-and, to all intents and purposes, his.
As though he has put in an order for her somewhere.
But she might be a nut case.
He has to be sure.
"What's the story?" he asks.
She shrugs, hesitating, before she replies, "I saw you on TV, I wanted you, and I'm used to getting what I want."
"How do you know the guy on TV is me?"
"That's the part I want.
"And I'm offering you the same deal.
"What you see is what you get."
"That's the part I want too. "That's all I want.
"First time you want inside my head, first time you want, like, emotional involvement, don't even bother to bring it up.
"Just leave, okay?"
"I am happily married, wealthy, and looking for ... an interest."
"And painting or flower arranging won't cut it? " She smiles.
"The female seeks the male. "Anything else is symbol or substitute. "And I think I'm high enough in the pecking order of this world that I can have the real thing."
"Okay, we'll give it a shot.
"You don't interfere with my training, you don't bug Tony any more than you already have, and we'll get it on.
"We're comin' up on the crucial part of my preparation for next month.
"You've got the run of the place.
"You can come and go as you like.
"Only thing I ask is that, while you're here, you sleep with me."
"That's the main thing I'm here for."
"And the rest?"
"I want to be ... a presence."
"A presence?"
"Oh, don't worry.
"I'll wear dark glasses, give no interviews.
"But if I'm good enough for the sack, then I'm good enough for ringside, for night clubs and restaurants.
"I'm good enough for you to act like we are what we are." He smiles. "I like it.
"Believe it or not, it solves a bunch of problems for me."
"Oh, I believe it.
"I can well imagine the number of women who'd like to get their hooks into you.
"I'm your defense against them.
"Let the details stay a mystery.
"But, at the same time, courtesy of the media, of what they will see and what they will guess, the message will be there for all to see, which is that you already have a female interest.
"And I flatter myself that I'm not the kind of competition most women can easily handle."
"Got it all figured out, have you?"
She shrugs.
"Pretty well, I think."
"Well, I think so too.
"How long will you be staying?"
"Well, I wasn't certain as to my reception, so I only brought enough clothes for a few days.
"If all goes well, then I'll go back to the city and get some more things, so I can be with you full time, right through the fight-and after."
"What about your husband?"
"Out of the country, for at least another month."
"That does make it convenient, doesn't it?"
"Almost as though fate planned it that way."
"We have bent the world," he grins.
"So it would seem."
"Then let's go with the flow."
"Certainly."
And they walk back to the building complex.
Where Tony stands on the porch, glaring.
"Have the lady's chauffeur move her stuff into my room, Tone. Seems I have a guest."
Tony shakes his head, but moves off in the direction of the bunk house where the sparring partners reside, the limo now parked in front of it.
"He'll get used to you, don't worry."
"I could care less and I don't worry."
He laughs.
Tony comes back as they stand on the porch. "He'll be comin' right over with her shi-with her luggage.
"You ready for some road work now, or what."
"Ready.
"If you'll excuse me-"
And he does not await a reply before he takes off. Tony does not look at her either, letting the champ get a head start before he climbs into a jeep and slowly takes off after him.
As Rufe pulls the limo up to the porch, gets out, and opens the trunk.
And the spectacle of all that luggage, topped by hat boxes, emerging from the trunk draws a crowd of sparring partners.
"One of you guys wanna tell me which room is Teddy's?" Rufe asks.
"Sure," one of them says. "Lemme give ya a han' with all that stuff."
And Cynthia leans against a porch column as the luggage moves in.
Two weeks later. "Check it out, babe.
" 'Champ Dates Mystery Woman', says heah." And Willy shows Ginny Mae the headline of the sports page.
And fondles her buttocks, then her breasts, as she stands there naked, looking at the picture, then reading.
"Some fan white meat," she admits, "but don' say who she is."
"Yeah, ah noticed.
"Not that it mattahs," he adds, "consid'rin' whut he got comin' down the pike." And now, he rubs his lazy hard-on up and down the crack of her ass.
And she puts the paper down, relaxing hack into his embrace as his hands knead and fondle her large breasts.
He cannot seem to get enough of her.
And she in turn has become accustomed to him.
So that no sooner does her mother leave for work than they are naked.
He will fuck her twice before lunch and at least twice after.
She thinks she is already pregnant, but he has put off taking her to the free clinic to confirm this.
For her protection, as he explains, so that she will not be disappointed if it has not yet happened.
No hurry, as he explains, because they will not proceed with the lawsuit until after he fight.
Don' wanna shake the boy up none befo' he does his thang, thowoff 'isconcentrayshun, unnastan'.
They have, however, been to the lawyer already.
Yes, Willy has actually taken time out from their busy schedule to put clothes on, to have Ginny Mae do the same, to take the subway to see the man.
Who is all set.
Who is prepared to proceed along several lines, each more lucrative than the one before it.
Who has complimented Ginny Mae and Willy on their cleverness, their astuteness in not cashing the checks.
Who will use it all-the uncashed checks, Teddy's ignorance of their issuance until after the fact, the pregnancy-to build a case that he is prepared to take to court, to take to a jury, the instant he fails to obtain an eight figure settlement.
A lump up front, installments on the rest, an acceleration clause tied into the champ's future earnings.
Looking good.
And there is nothing, nothing, nothing that Teddy or Teddy's people can do about it.
So that now they are living in an earthly paradise, the two of them, Willy and Ginny Mae.
The money is theirs.
And the blonde?
She is the frosting on the cake.
She is the further evidence of Teddy's bad faith.
Hell, she is on their side!
"Babe, de sky is da limit!"
And he whirls her round and round, burrowing into the cleavage between her naked breasts, nuzzling her as they turn.
"Put me down, fool!
"We got sumthin' bettah ta do'n play merry-go-roun!
"Ah heah that!"
And he carries her into the bedroom-the one he shares nightly with her mother-and laughs as she bounces on the mattress.
And slides down her back, helping himself to mouthfuls of her smooth flesh, chewing them, tonguing them as he descends.
And overwhelming her once more with the variety of his love-making expertise.
And his total and unrestrained hunger for her.
As he wallows in the crack of her ass, mouth open, sucking her ass hole, jamming his tongue in, in, into it.
And pulling on her hips, forcing her ass up and backward, impaling her on his thrusting tongue.
And drilling into her with it, opening her up.
Until she moans, "Oh, fuck me! Fuck me right in my ass! Stick it into me!"
And he obliges her.
Even though it has nothing to do with the project.
Because you cannot get pregnant this way. He knows it and, once she is able to think again, so will she.
But she has asked for it and he is only too happy to oblige.
Because here, now, is the proof of how far she has come in her feelings for him. Full circle.
That's what it is, he realizes. This hot young bitch is in love with me! he thinks.
But then, is not this too a part of his plan? His plan, and yet not entirely his.
He has not planned for, has not anticipated the blonde in the paper, Teddy's arm around her waist at his most recent press conference at the training camp.
And yet, there she is.
Making an ass out of Teddy without his having any way to suspect it.
She is the clincher in an argument already won.
And now, as he buttons the throbbing head of his massive cock into her ass hole and shoves forward, hands on both her hips holding her steady, he can only shake his head and smile at the manner in which this hard, closed world has suddenly opened up to him.
Just like Ginny Mae's ass hole.
The body.
That's all there is, Cynthia thinks, feeling the champ's power as he throws a basic, savage, full bore piston fuck into her.
As though he is packing her cunt, injecting it, pounding the compound of his lust into her, more and more with each savage lunge.
Because she feels it, the pressure, the sensation of fullness, of pleasure physically occupying her, ever increasing as Teddy hammers his big, black cock into her.
He is like this to a greater degree, the closer he gets to the day of the big fight.
As he builds his aggression, honing it to a knife edge.
And it has worked out well, she reflects. For her, for him.
As he must release the excess of his malevolence against his opponent, which grows within him like a mushrooming atomic explosion in slow motion.
Yes, there is only the body, the flesh, as far as she is concerned.
And yet, she knows that, to him, she represents more, much more than her mere physical self.
She is the promise.
She is the promise of the world out there, the world of wealth, of power, the world which is not his, the world of which he is not and can never really be an integral, natural part.
No, he must fight his way into that world, fight to remain there.
Today, tonight, forever.
There is no way that he can ever really rest, not for a minute.
The best he can do is to temporarily take advantage of the perks, the rewards of what he has achieved, what he must be ever in the process of achieving.
He has come from nothing, from less than nothing.
He has risen to the top of the only pinnacle this world has to offer him.
He is king of the hill and can remain so only so long as he is willing and able to II in a certain way.
Yes, kill.
So that only luck will leave his opponents with their lives.
Opponents. A euphemism for enemies, for the enemy, individually and collectively seeking to knock him from his shaky perch.
And now, he is sampling one of his rewards, one of his prizes.
If he were not the champ, she would not be here.
When he is no longer champ, she will not be here.
But the fact is that, at the moment, he is.
And therefore, he is free to use it all up, to expend his total energy, the essence of his being, in this championship moment.
And in fact, it would be great, it would be ideal if he could actually have a stroke, if he could die right here and now, in the saddle and at the top of the world.
And now, he actually decides to do this. He will fuck himself to death. And they will never know that he has committed suicide.
And this thought seems especially delicious to him.
And he sets out to accomplish it.
"Uh! Uh! Uh!"
He is knocking the wind out of her, each time he drives himself into her. Faster and faster he goes.
He is achieving vibrator speed, the heat of his body incredible, his breath a shuddering intake and exhalation, his lungs a fiery bellows.
And, in the midst of the pleasure beyond pleasure, there is only the faintest twinge of soft regret, regret that, as his wads of jism explode into her again and again, he is still here, still in this world, where he must carry on.