Chapter 7
For a long moment he sat quietly, watching the two girls who still stood side by side at the door. "Your mother is quite a woman."
"She's got a big, loud mouth," May said angrily.
"That isn't fair, May," June said defensively. "She never makes your boyfriends go home when she goes to work-except Butch."
"Well she shouldn't be mouthing off about my boyfriend taking you in the bedroom."
"But he didn't, did he?" June asked regretfully.
"No, but if he thought Maw was serious I bet he would. All the guys want to get in your pants." She dug June in the ribs with her elbow and motioned for her to go back into the kitchen. The girl rebelled and went to sit on a chair where she could watch Brent. May glared at her for a moment then shrugged and went to sit beside him.
"Ignore her," she said softly in his ear.
June had other plans. As she noticed that Brent was glancing at her more and more frequently, she permitted her skirt to ride high on her thighs and let her legs drift apart. He found himself looking at the white triangle of her panty-clad crotch.
May turned and saw the object of his attention. "Oh damn it, June, you're acting like a slut. Pull your dress down."
"I'll pull it off if he wants me to," she retorted and smiled mischievously at Brent and gave him a better view beneath her dress. May jumped to her feet and moved to attack the girl, but Brent grabbed her hand and pulled her back to her seat beside him. "No fighting, May, no fighting, or I'll leave. I don't want to cause any trouble in a family."
At that moment the other two girls came in from the kitchen. At a questioning look from May one of them said, "We're finished. Everything's put away." She cast an admiring look at Brent and sat down in a chair facing them. The other girl stood against the wall.
Brent gave April an approving inspection and even Dee merited a few glances, but his attention kept returning to June. He was getting impatient and his trousers were becoming uncomfortably tight.
Someone began to hammer on the door with his fist. The girls gave a start and glanced fearfully at each other. May stood up. "It's that damn Butch. Every time Maw leaves he comes up here and tries to borrow either some bread or mustard or something."
"Should we let him in?"
"Maw said not to let him in the door."
She went to the door and pressed her face to the thin panel. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Butch. Open up May."
"You know I can't open the door. Who's with you?"
"Just a couple of the guys. Open the door."
"Why don't you learn to come up by yourself. It'd be a lot more fun without your friends hanging around leering at us. Send 'em away and I'll open the door."
"How about that stud who was with you?"
"He's here. I told you he came to see Maw. He won't bother you. Send those guys away."
Brent got up and winked at May. "We'll make him think I'm with June."
May could not protest as he went over and pulled June from her chair He seated himself and pulled the girl onto his lap May could hear a brief argument in the hall and then the sound of several people moving away. She glanced around and saw Brent nod and wink at her. With a shrug she opened the door.
The boy came in with a large brown bag in his arms. He had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, gangster fashion. He inspected each of the girls and let his glance settle on Brent. Without his friends he was no longer arrogant or sullen. He smiled, "See you got the best-looking one in the bunch." He displayed a yellow-toothed grin. "She's good but I like May better."
"How do you know how good I am?" June retorted. "You ain't ever done it to me."
"You forgot what we did two weeks ago on the back steps." He smiled smugly.
"Oh yeah, just feeling of my tits, but you didn't get in my pants," she shot back angrily. "You judge me on that and you didn't even get inside my bra."
He shrugged his shoulders and handed the bag to May. "Beer, take 'em and put 'em in the fridge. Bring us all one."
He flopped onto the couch and proceeded to undress April with his eyes. "The old lady's got the best-looking bunch of cunts in The Bank and they put out too." He laughed as April's face began to turn red. Brent disliked him at once.
May returned with a pack of beer still in its plastic holder. She ripped one free and tossed it to Butch. She handed Brent one and the others moved forward to get theirs. Dee remained on her chair, staring first at Brent then Butch. She shook her head when the last can was offered to her.
May removed the tab and took a long drink. She glanced at June seated on Brent's lap and permitted Butch to pull her down onto his knee. His hand slid up and squeezed her breast. She made no protest as she took another drink.
Butch quickly finished the first beer and picked up the one Dee had rejected. He leered at Brent. "You ever see a strip show?"
Brent took a small swallow of his beer and met his eyes. "Sure, why?"
"These girls are good at it. Common, April, show 'im what you can do."
April glanced at May but received no acknowledgment. She stepped to the center of the room and began to unbutton her blouse. Brent watched her slowly peel the blouse away and drape it over Butch's head. She was doing a slow dance step to some unheard music. The skirt slid away and she picked it up to replace the blouse that Butch had jerked away. She was beginning to dance faster.
June felt the first jab of his penis as he lusted to an erection. She shifted slightly so he would be more comfortable. Butch too was getting an erection. He openly began to thumb at his crotch until his growing shaft was moving freely. Brent saw the bulge along his thigh.
"It's enough to get a guy hard up ain't it?"
Butch almost choked on his beer as he began to guffaw.
April unclasped the brassiere and freed the mounds of her breasts. They swayed and jiggled in time to her dance. She increased the tempo and, as her breasts began to swing and bounce wildly, her hands slid down over her hips and the panties were carried away with them.
Butch's hand slipped into May's blouse and began to work its way beneath the band of her brassiere. She let her head rest on the back of the couch and closed her eyes as his other hand began to creep beneath her skirt.
"All right, Dee, it's your turn," he said thickly as his fingers pushed past May's panties and began to lubricate themselves in the slot beyond. Dee joined her nude sister in the center of the room and began to imitate her dance. She slowly removed her clothes in the same manner as her sister before her.
Now there were two nude girls dancing about, but Butch had forgotten them. He withdrew his hand and wiped his fingers on the leg of his trousers. He whispered into May's ear and the two of them arose and disappeared into the bedroom.
As soon as the door closed, June arose and began to strip away her clothes. She made no attempt to dance or tease him, but simply pulled at her clothes in her hurry to get them off.
Brent drank in the perfection of her nude body as she stood over him. It was amazing how beautiful a girl could be, overshadowing the others as she did. She leaned down and drew the zipper of his fly open, watching his face to see if he would protest. She fumbled inside and withdrew the stiff, blue-veined shaft. She climbed into the chair with a knee pressed into the cushion on either side of him. Holding the bone-hard staff straight up, she lowered herself upon it until he felt the swollen knob pressed against her small vaginal hole.
Gritting her teeth, she continued to lower herself, and he felt the elastic of her flesh give way under the pressure. As the head slipped in, he felt the little mouth grip him tightly behind the enlarged knob. It was as if someone had closed a fist about it.
Carefully she lowered herself until two-thirds of the shaft was buried within the walls of her vaginal tunnel. She raised herself and lowered again, taking in an extra measure of the remaining one-third. As the lubricating fluid began to slicken the staff she began to bounce faster. He closed his eyes and pushed his head forward so that her breasts slapped and bounced about his face.
With a low cry of release she raised herself from his gasping root and stepped aside as April rushed to replace her. He made no protest as the second girl stuffed the greasy shaft between her thighs and resumed the rising and falling motion. Her vaginal hole was larger than her sister's and the well-lubricated spear pistoned in and out without effort.
He could feel his climax beginning and was in the act of warning her to prepare to dismount when she gave a sigh and became rigid. When Dee perceived that her sister had gained her fulfillment, she moved forward to take her turn. Brent knew she was only about fifteen, but if she wanted to climb on he was not about to object.
As April arose and permitted the glistening shaft to slide free, Dee moved in and timidly climbed up into his lap. She was even tighter than June. Even with the lubrication contributed by her sisters she had some difficulty shoving the oversized knob into her tiny opening. There was an audible slurp as she withdrew the half-sunk shaft and tried again.
This time she succeeded in drawing the entire knob past the lips and the rest began to follow. As it became too much for her, she arose and let it slide out until the knob ended progress. Again she lowered herself.
She was just settling into a comfortable rhythm when May and Butch returned. Butch's face was flushed and he seemed to be fatigued. May still wore her bitter expression as she spied her younger sister in action. "Well, will you just look at my baby sister grease the skids. Ain't that something to see?"
Butch stood watching and May glanced at him. "You getting another hard-on yet? Maybe we can go back and you can finish me."
"Oh dammit, May, you always want more.
I'm tired. I think I'll stay here and feel the girls awhile. Come 'er June."
"Oh Butch-" The girl began to protest.
"You heard me, June. I said come here," the boy growled darkly. "You wouldn't want your Maw to know what's going on behind her back, would you?" He slitted his eyes menacingly.
Slowly June crossed the room to him. He reached out and yanked her onto his lap. "Bring me some more beer, May." He pushed the girl's reluctant knees apart and buried his big hand in her warm crotch. His fingers slipped into the moist slot and one worked its way into the small tunnel. She winced as his nail scraped the tender flesh beyond.
His eyes were watching Dee, sliding up and down in Brent's lap. June closed her eyes and tried to ignore what the boy was doing to her, but she could feel her excitement mounting again. Against her will, she reached down and drew his fly open. She withdrew the limp, thick, fleshy root and tried to fondle it to life.
"Boy, ain't that Dee got a pretty ass for a kid?" he muttered thickly as he sucked a nipple between his lips and began to chew on it.
June pulled away with a sharp cry of pain. "Oh Butch, that hurts."
He laughed and jabbed his finger harder between her thighs. "Does that hurt too?" Her expression of pain was his answer.
May returned and handed him the beer. She saw that the penis her sister was fondling was still limp and useless. He took the beer and leered at her. "Go take your turn with our friend over there. The kid should be just about finished." He took a long drink and belched loudly. "Maybe he can give you your goodies."
"I don't want to, Butch," she lied and swept her eyes over that part of Brent's gasping organ that was visible beneath Dee's rising and falling buttocks.
"Ah go on May. I ain't gonna get mad. I don't mind if some other stud gets into your pussy any more. Soon as I get hard again I'm gonna shove it to June. Right, June?"
The girl met his menacing eyes and nodded jerkily. He pulled her against him and buried his face between her breasts as Dee gave a shuddering sigh and jumped from Brent's lap. May crossed the room to take his hand and pull him from the chair. A glance at Butch, and the two of them went into the bedroom.
"Okay, you've had all four of us Schultz girls." She smiled coyly as she pressed herself to him. "Think you're ready to start your second time around?"
"Just climb on that bed and we'll find out." He laughed softly.
She lowered herself onto the bed and lay back as he quickly stripped away his pants and shorts. When he joined her she wasted no time in drawing him down over her, and he knew that Butch had not satisfied her. As she was fitting him within herself, the door opened and
April slipped into the room. They ignored her as she seated herself at the foot of the bed and watched them prepare to give each other the release they both sought.
Finally, with a low moan of joy, May received her orgasm and seconds later Brent withdrew from her to permit April to slip a towel beneath the spitting shaft. She had to grab the lunging root to aim the spurting fluid into the cloth. Then it lay quietly in her hand and she wiped the knob carefully.
As he rolled onto his back she lowered her face and planted a soft kiss on the slumping member. She drew the soft flesh into her mouth and began to suck hungrily. To her surprise and pleasure it began to grow in her hand. He had no sooner placed her on her back beside May and prepared to mount her than the door opened again. Dee stood quietly beside the bed and awaited her turn. And now Brent knew why the brother had run off to join the Army.
It was a tired and bedraggled Brent who walked into the station the following morning to catch the tail end of a conversation between St. John and his wife. Buster's face was angry and he was gripping the receiver tightly.
"For the last time, Gloria, I am not trying to play around on you. I gotta work. No, I don't want you coming down here and bugging me. If you can't trust me, maybe I shouldn't trust you." His voice softened and he smiled thinly. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry too. Forged it. Of course I still love you, silly. Yeah, I'll try to run out for lunch."
He put the receiver on the hook and turned to find Brent watching him. "Well, whatta I tell you. I slip out for some new pussy and right away she gets suspicious. That dame is uncanny."
"You must have said something or did something to get her worked up," Brent suggested.
"Damn if I know what it was. Anyway, I'm watching my step for awhile."
"How was the date?"
St. John rolled his eyes and put on a dreamy expression. "Oh man, can that French quail cream your banana. I haven't had it so good since Gloria and I were married." He shook his head and a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. "I sure wouldn't mind climbing on that one again."
His face clouded and he snapped his fingers. "Oh damn, I almost forgot. I'm supposed to go to a meeting and I'll probably be tied up all day. I'll have to call Gloria and tell her I can't run out to have lunch with her. She'll get pissed off and we'll just have another row."
Brent went on to change into his work clothes so he would not have to hear another stormy conversation. When he came back St. John was standing in the office doorway, rubbing his neck.
"Well that's outta the way. That damn
Chuck called in and said he was sick but that big fuck-off was probably sleeping off a hangover. You notice he's sick mostly on Mondays."
"Well, things are kind of slow today." Brent grinned soothingly, "We don't need him and it'll save you a day's pay."
"Yeah, that's right." Buster grinned and winked, "Well, I gotta roll. If any pretty tail comes by for gas keep your pants buttoned and put it in the tank." Then he was gone.
Brent busied himself on a tune-up and the time passed quickly. He stopped only to service the occasional cars that pulled in. He had just returned to put a charge ticket into the box when the bell announced another car had pulled in. It did not stop at the pumps, and he watched it roll to a stop in the parking space St. John usually occupied.
Brent knew the first thing he would see would be the beautifully shaped legs followed by the rest of the stunning form of Gloria St. John. He and Chuck had often seen her get out of a car this way, and Chuck had always whispered some colorful comment about it.
She was wearing an off-the-shoulder light yellow minidress with daring cutouts at the sides and between the breasts. She was always stunning and today she was more so, but he could see she was disturbed. Her face was quiet, thoughtful, and he detected that she had been crying.
"Hello Brent." She smiled thinly.
"Hi Gloria," He was trying to be cheerful. "What brings the boss's wife down here?" , "The boss." She met his eyes.
"Come again?" He feigned surprise. "Has something happened to Buster?"
"You tell me."
"I don't understand, Gloria, has he done something wrong?"
She sighed, "Yes, Brent, something is terribly wrong." Huge tears began to well up in her eyes. She squeezed them shut and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Brent took her awkwardly by the shoulders and led her to a chair. He caught the aroma of her perfume as she moved past him. She was a very lovely woman.
He pulled out a drawer and handed her a number of tissues and stood quietly while she cried herself out. Finally she blew her nose and dabbed carefully at her eyes to prevent smearing her make-up.
"Thank you, Brent, I feel like such a fool." She blew her nose again. "You want to know what's happened to Buster? I'll tell you what's happened to him. He's screwing another woman."
A statement like that from such a prim woman, as he knew she was, shocked him.
"I'm sorry for my vulgar language, but that's exactly what he's doing." She met his gaze and he realized that she was a very smart woman. "Brent, am I so old or so ugly that my husband must go out and find a fresh young woman?"
Before he could answer she stood up. "Look at me, Brent, look at me and tell me what's wrong. Is my face wrinkled?" She brought her hands up to stroke her cheeks. "Are my breasts sagging?" The hands pressed them together and released them. "Are my legs flabby?" She pulled the short dress high, giving him a view of her legs all the way to the thighs.
Brent swallowed and tried to ignore the legs as he glanced to see if anyone could see them in the glass-enclosed office. She sat back down.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Gloria. Nothing wrong with you at all. You're every bit as beautiful as any woman anywhere. Don't blame yourself for Buster's jumping the fence. The more beautiful the wife a man has the more he wants to sample the average stuff to see what he's missing. Buster loves you and as soon as he finds out all pussies, excuse me, are the same he'll be home and appreciating you that much more."
"Am I supposed to let my husband screw other women and shut my eyes to it? Is that fair?"
"Do you love Buster."
"Of course I do. I've never played around on him."
"That's not what I mean. Do you love Buster enough to forgive him and take him back?"
She thought for a few moments. "Yes, I guess so. But what about me? Am I supposed to just sit on my hands and wait until he gets tired of that woman?"
"What do you want to do, Gloria? What are you trying to say?" Brent's eyes caught the cutout in the front of her dress and he tried to ignore the soft round hint of her breasts.
"I think I should have an affair too." His eyes met hers. "Don't you?" She was smiling strangely at him.
"Well I-I don't know about that. I guess it depends on who you have an affair with." Brent was amazed at how little he really knew this prim woman.
"Who do you think I should have an affair with, Brent?"
"Well, if you must do it, I guess you'd better pick someone who can keep his mouth shut. A lot of guys like to brag when they lay-" He stopped, embarrassed.
"When they lay a woman?" she finished for him. "Can you keep your mouth shut, Brent?"
Their eyes met and locked. He drew his tongue over suddenly dry lips and swallowed hard. She laughed softly and stood up. She was awfully close. "Would you like to make love to me, Brent?"
"I don't know, Gloria. If Buster found out-"
"How will he find out? If he did, so what? He started the whole thing. You stay right here until I call you."
She moved toward the service section and stopped in the doorway. She turned and smiled wickedly at him. "I'm going to show you what Buster has been getting and now has thrown over for something better."
She went into the back room and Brent felt his loins beginning to stir for he well knew what she was doing. He was uncertain of what he would do when she called him, for there was a possibility that St. John might return. Someone would pull in for gas or-she called to him.
He went into the stockroom. Her clothes were stacked neatly on cases of oil cans. She stood in the center of the small room, as beautiful and desirable as any girl Brent had ever seen in the same situation. He swept his eyes from her high, proud pink-capped breasts down over her small, flat stomach to the fluffy mound that concealed the treasure. He recalled something St. John had said.
"It's those quickies I get in the mornings that put the bloom in my cheeks."
"Did you say something, Brent?"
"No, I guess I was just thinking out loud what a beautiful, sexy thing you are, Gloria."
She held out her arms and he rushed to take possession of another man's wife. At one time the station had been open twenty-four hours a day. A cot had been placed in the stock room and it was still there. As they fell together onto the cot Brent thought he heard something. He raised his lips from a pink, ripe nipple. "If St. John comes in now-"
"Are you so scared of Buster that you're afraid to screw his wife? Am I not worth the risk? After all, I'm risking my ass too."
As his hand sought and found the furry nest, she nibbled at his ear. "Brent, I want you to know I'm not doing this just to spite Buster. I really need it. For some reason Buster hasn't been very satisfying lately, and I haven't had but one climax in the last two weeks. I'm just burning up down there. Can you feel it?"
His finger slipped into the slot and it was hot and damp. She opened his trousers and withdrew the swollen member she found there.
"I have an enlarged clitoris and climax fairly easily, but lately Buster just hasn't been himself. I usually have two or three orgasms for every one he has. But now, nothing."
He arose so she could position herself in the center of the cot then lowered himself above her. She guided him carefully into place and closed her eyes as she felt his penetration. Almost immediately, true to her word, she began to have orgasm after orgasm.
Brent was still far from completion when the bell jangled. The sudden clamor caused Gloria to sit up, bucking him off. She began to pull on her clothes in a frenzy of haste. He knew he would not get to finish himself now, so he pushed the marble-hard root away and closed his trousers.
He growled an oath as he saw the dirty pink Volkswagen at the pumps. The two girls were looking toward the station and the driver began to blow the horn. With a sigh he went out to the car.
"Well, if it isn't the pretty-face robot himself," the driver snickered. "I still wonder if you have a prick."
"If you came back just to find that out you may be in for a big disappointment." He smiled without humor. "You want gas?"
The girl nudged her friend. "See what I mean? Two pretty girls like us wanting cock and the lovely robot wants to know do we want gas."
"That's how he makes his living. He's gotta sell gas." She smiled at Brent and when he opened his mouth she quickly added, "Yeah, we got bread."
"Hey, I thought we was gonna try to get him to take it out in trade."
"Ah shit, that's just a waste of time. A stud as good-looking as that could get the gals to pull their panties down by just smiling at them." She wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, "And I ain't even wearing panties."
"And no bra neither," the other girl said and slapped her breast, causing it to sway beneath the thin material of her blouse.
"You want gas?" Brent was impatient.
"We got bread too." The girl held out a bill to him. "Don't you like us?"
"I never did care much for hippies."
"Why? Because we got long hair and give away pussy? Because we say dirty four-letter words? Because we don't take a bath every time company comes? Because we got clap? Why don't you like hippies?"
"You just named some of the reasons." He went to the back of the car and began to put gas into it. He could still hear the girls as they spoke loudly for his benefit.
"A handsome stud like that could almost make me go straight," the driver sighed.
"You mean you'd cut your hair? Wear a bra, panties? Sit on a chair and keep your knees together? Eat with a fork and say, 'thank you, ma'am. Do without cock until some stud asks for some? Tell 'im you don't put out? Take a bath with real soap? Pick your nose in private and stop pulling hair out of your nipples in the park?" The girl paused and thought about it, then nodded slowly, "Yeah, I guess I could do all that too if he'd ask me to."
Brent came around and began to wipe the windshield. The girl who had been talking gathered her breasts into her hands and pressed them together. "If he'd just kiss my nipples, I could climax."
He went into the office to make change and Gloria was standing in the doorway opening onto the service section. She was frowning thoughtfully as he made change and returned to the car.
The driver pushed her blouse open as he leaned in to give her the money. He dropped the coins into her pocket and gave her breast a gentle squeeze. "Joyce and Patty, you see I still remember your names and I haven't forgotten where you live. Maybe I'll still have a chance to come by sometime and take you up on that pot."
"Anytime, baby, we'll be ready."
"Yeah, and all the pussy you can handle too." The other girl laughed. "But don't wait so damn long."
He watched the car rattle away. Gloria still stood in the service section where she could not be seen from the street when he returned.
"Come here, Brent." He went to her. "Kiss me." As their lips met he was hopeful they would return to the stock room and finish what they had been doing before the interruption. As his hands sought her breasts she gently pushed him away. "Not now," she whispered. "Some time I will call you and we will do it right and good for both of us."
Another quick kiss and she was gone. He watched her car until it was out of sight. Now he was tense and his frustrations would become worse through the day for he had not received his satisfaction. He hung a sign on the door, locked it, and went across the street to eat.
He seated himself on a stool at the counter and watched the girl with the small breasts approach him. He was surprised how attractive she could be when he was in the mood for sex. He thought of the voluminous body of Gloria and the brief appeal this girl had for him died.
"Whatta ya have, curly?" She displayed what she hoped was a come-on grin.
"Bring me a steak cutlet with potatoes and green beans, hot rolls, and tea." He smiled back, knowing she would bring him an extra measure of everything. As he waited for her to bring his lunch he wondered who would be the one with whom he would get his sexual satisfaction that night.
He promptly dismissed the over-demanding girls of The Bank; April, May, June and Dee. One night in a month with them was enough. He thought of Mary Ann and wondered why she had never called back. Was she mad because he had not tried to see her when he returned the car?
He smiled at the memory of the Clinton sisters, Susan and Alice. They were a good pair and their maid, Renee, always rated another visit. He dismissed Charlotte and Phyllis for the simple reason they had not impressed him sufficiently to warrant a second visit so soon. Maybe later.
He was thinking of the hippies and their open promise of unlimited sex and drugs when the girl brought his food. As she placed the plate on the counter she leaned toward him and whispered, "Brent, why don't you ever ask me for a date? I can show you a real good time even if I-" She let the rest trail off as her neck and cheeks became a bright pink.
Brent grinned and patted her hand. "Thanks, sweetheart. I'm not just ignoring you, but I have been pretty busy. First time I get a chance I'll take you out."
Her eyes shone and she smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Brent, you're the sweetest boy I've ever met." She blushed again and fled.
As he ate the memory of Gloria's lush body that had been surrendered to him, however briefly, caused his trousers to become uncomfortably tight. He was in a hurry to get back to the station to set up a date for that night. He had decided to call Mary Ann because her stay in town was limited.
He returned to the station and went straight to the telephone. The desk clerk at the Bluffside politely informed him that Miss Davidson had checked out and left no forwarding address. Surprised and disappointed he thanked the man and returned the receiver to the hook. He dug out another dime and dialed the number he knew best. There was no answer at the Clinton home.
He let the phone ring for a long time before he hung it up and retrieved his coin. Susan, Alice and Renee were unavailable. He was flipping the dime and trying to decide who to call next when the bell rang to signal a car at the pumps.
He serviced the car and returned to put the money in the cash register. He dialed another well-remembered number and again received no answer. He decided it was the wrong time of day to call and went to work on the car.
At quitting time he debated calling again and finally decided to let it go. He put the contents of the register into the safe and went to change into his street clothes. After turning on the night lights he locked the station and turned toward home.
His feeling of dejection was increased when he found that his mother and sister were both out. He went through the silent house into the kitchen and fixed himself a sandwich and glass of milk. He took them to the telephone and began to dial the numbers again. He ate the entire sandwich and drained the glass without making contact with any of the girls.
With a muttered oath he went to shower and change his clothes. He tried Susan's number one more time before he went to his car and started to drive aimlessly about the streets. A short time later he found himself at the Bluffside Park. He left the car and began to walk. He was standing against the stone wall that had been erected to keep strollers from walking over the bluff into the water below. The sense of aloneness struck harder as the mournful wail of a tugboat whistle came to him.
To his left were the lights of the Bluffside Hotel and beyond them were the lights of the Interstate Bridge outlining the huge high-rise apartments. To his right, beneath the feeble glow of the yet unbroken street lamps, lay the sinister mystery of The Bank. He was surprised to find himself thinking of his unknown father.
He turned as headlights proceeded a car along the curving drive below. His idle curiosity quickened into interest as he saw it was a Buick just like the one his mother owned. He watched it pass the Bluffside Hotel and turn into the drive of the apartments beyond.
It pulled into a parking slot and a woman got out to hurry toward the side entrance. He recognized his mother as she passed beneath one of the powerful arc lamps that lined the huge parking area. Frowning, he went down the slight bank and crossed the Freeway. He climbed the low wall that surrounded the apartment's parking area and went to the car. A glance at the license plate proved he had not been mistaken.
He looked at his watch. His mother was supposed to be at work.
For a long moment he stood transfixed in horrible thought. Was his mother a prostitute? A common whore who sold her favors to anyone who had the price? Was that why she kept herself so pretty and desirable at her age? He had to know.
He went into the building and found himself in a long corridor that led to a bank of self-service elevators. There was no one in the hall nor in the shorter one that led to the front entrance. When he noted the long row of mail cubicles he went over to scan the names. At first none seemed to mean anything, and he was about to turn away when his eye caught one of the small white cards. H. Lambert. He wondered if it could be Harry Lamb. With the money he made he could well afford a suite of rooms in the apartment. Brent made a note of the number and went to the elevators. One of them quickly carried him to the ninth floor. He went to nine-eleven and paused at the door. Glancing carefully about to be sure he was alone in the hall, he pressed his ear to the panel. He recognized both voices.
He felt better as he turned away. His mother was keeping company with the man who was the father of her daughter. She wasn't sleeping around with just anyone with the right price. He was almost cheerful as he moved toward the elevators. He got his second shock when the doors opened and the woman almost collided with him. There was a girl in the elevator. A beautiful drunk girl and Brent liked the cut of her jib. She seemed to like him and before he knew it they were alone and fucking like minks. He drove his pulsing prick into her body and fucked the hell out of her.
Every movement that he made with his body inspired her to heights of passion and she would writhe about on the bed and undulate her soft succulent flesh underneath him. They gave each other pleasure and finally climaxed in a powerful orgasm.
That had been a pretty good night, but there were worse times ahead. St. John and his girlfriend got into a fight and he was in a pretty bad mood. Then there was Chuck and his girlfriend and they got in a fight.
To cap it all off Brent and his chick got into a fight and things started to looking pretty grim. He decided that there was just too much tension what with all the quarrels. Chuck and St. John gave him shit once or twice and he felt like telling them to shove it.
Several days passed and he decided that there were other things in life than feeling like shit. So he started screwing around. He met the girl that he had found in the elevator and they had a nice thing going for a while. He had missed getting laid a lot and she helped him to feel better.
She was one hell of a fuck and he was thankful for that. Then one night he got a phone call from Susan. She seemed irritated with the fact that he hadn't called her recently, and she accused him of fucking other women. He told her that she didn't own him and what he did was not really her business.
The muff was beginning to bore Brent. "I bet you're getting it from someone else."
"You're right," he said simply. "So what?"
There was a long pause as she thought over his blunt admission. "All right Brent, where does that leave me?"
"That's up to you. Maybe you can find someone else."
"You bet your sweet ass I can find someone else." Her voice began to shrill. "And if you think I'm going to sit around on my ass and wait until you get tired of that other bitch, you're full of crap. I'll find someone a lot better..."
He put the receiver back into its cradle and returned the instrument to the hall. As he undressed for bed he felt that the first stab of regret as he realized that Susan was only the first of many he would have to put out of his life. To his surprise he slept well that night, better than he had in a long time, in fact.