Chapter 10
Belinda stood on that sordid street, looking at the dismal tenement in which Ray Griffin resided. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. But she was not worried and, in fact, she even looked around on the odd chance that a handful of rapists might be lurking in the neighborhood, for she had gotten so excited while giving head to the taxi driver that she was just in the mood to get raped a few times.
But there was nary a rapist in sight.
Isn't that always the way, she thought. When a girl is looking for a rapist, she can never find one ... Rapists are worse than cops, that way....
Well, maybe Ray Griffin will prove to be a horny sort of criminal, she thought, cheerfully
... maybe he, like Bill Silva and Melanie Granville, will have to be sensuously persuaded to reveal the whereabouts of the car.
She went up the crumbling concrete steps and down a dingy hallway that smelled like piss and octopus, and up a flight of stairs that threatened to collapse.
On the way she concocted a new cover story.
Ray Griffin and his henchman, Lenny Turner, were sitting in Griffin's one-room apartment, which originally had been an attic or storage loft. The walls slanted to a peak, being no more than the underside of the roof; light from a single small window came in faintly, and not too far, as if light could only enter such a room with trepidation; a candle in a wine bottle provided another circle of illumination. The candle was melted into a shapeless mass and the wine bottle had once contained Thunderbird. It sputtered like a fizzling bomb on the round wooden table at which the two criminals sat, adding to the impression that they were anarchists planning some dastardly assassination in a Balkan garret.
They were, in fact, planning a crime but, devoid of much imagination, they were having some trouble deciding what crime to pull off.
Ray Griffin was a big, brawny fellow, wearing a filthy undershirt, his suspenders lowered from his shoulders and hanging down in loops beside his chair. He might have been a good-looking man had he washed and shaved, but it was hard to tell beneath the dirt and stubble.
Lenny Turner was a small, slender youth who somewhat resembled a weasel both in features and sinuous torso. He had a wispy blonde moustache and pale blue eyes that watered a lot. His mouth was slack and mobile, twisting into grins, grimaces and sneers without any known reason for the changing attitude. He wore a baseball cap and a tee-shirt. The cap was sporting the logo of the Boston Red Sox; the tee-shirt was printed with the knowledge that: Disco Sucks. Quick and nervous, the youth twisted about in his weasel like fashion, as if his torso were squirming about inside his clothing.
Ray was forty years old, of which seventeen had been spent behind bars.
Lenny was a callow youth who had only been in jail twice, once for vandalism and once for pissing in gas tanks. He idolized his elder friend. He hoped that he would grow up to be just like Ray, big and brawny and strong and tough, with plenty of jail time behind him. He jerked-off a lot.
He was in love with Ray's inflatable doll.
The two hoodlums hunched over the table, scowling with the effort to think, and the inflatable doll, a blonde named Doris, reclined on the bed, patiently waiting.
Ray had stolen Doris from a sex shop, slipping her-in a deflated condition-down the front of his pants. That had been a week ago and the honeymoon was not yet over. But Ray was not the jealous sort and he allowed Lenny to blow Doris up for him; Lenny admired big Ray for such liberal and permissive attitudes toward his rubber bride.
Doris was quite spectacular.
No flesh-and-blood girl could have such perfect proportions, such pliable compliance with whatever position a man chose to make love, such patience with temporary impotency and, best of all, she never nagged. You never had to buy her a drink or feed her anything but cock; deflated, she rode free on public transport; she never had a headache and she never had the monthly curse. She had three available openings and her rubber fingers could be folded around a prick; one of her big nipples did double-duty as the valve by which she was deflated.
Lenny hoped that, someday, he would get to seduce Doris, either secretively when Ray Griffin was out or by permission, once Ray tired of plastic pussy.
Although he was trying to think of committable crimes, Lenny kept glancing at Doris.
He had a big hard-on.
"Damn it, there must be some joint we can rob!" Ray snorted in exasperation.
"How about we rob the Home for Battered Wives?"
"Naw, they got no money; that's why they get battered. That's the main reason why a husband beats his wife up, you know ... because she got no money."
"I didn't know that. I thought they beat them up because they were fucking around."
"Yeah, but fucking around without money."
Lenny nodded. He thought: Gosh, that Ray sure knows a lot of stuff. He said, "How about a supermarket?"
"That's kid-stuff," Ray snorted. "What if we get caught? Huh? You fancy going to jail, they got murderers there, they got kidnappers, they got rapists, they ask you what you did to get in jail and you got to tell them you failed to rob a supermarket? Shit."
"Year, I never thought of that."
"That's your main trouble, Lenny. You don't think."
Lenny pouted.
His mouth, which worked without known cause, smiled, but he was pouting, nevertheless.
He said, "Well, it's hard to think with a boner."
Ray looked disgusted.
"You got another fucking hard-on?"
"Yeah. A big bastard, too. The thing is, when I got a hard-on, all my blood rushes into my prick and my brain can't work so good."
"You better whack-off."
"Naw, that's kid-stuff; that's worse than robbing supermarkets, if you ask me. If only...." Lenny slid his gaze toward Doris. He was truly lusting for that latex lass. "If only I had me a girl like her," he said.
Ray glared at him.
"Well, jeez! How do you think I feel, I hear you humping away on her, and I got nobody?"
"Ugly as you are, how do you expect to get a girl?"
"Well, gee ... it ain't as if you sweet-talked Doris into bed, you know! You stole her. You didn't seduce her, you just slipped her down your pants."
"Watch your mouth," Ray cautioned.
"If I had a girl-even a real girl-I'd share her with you," said Lenny, petulantly. "You might at least let Doris give me a handjob, huh?"
Then: "Christ, I guess I'll have to let you ball her, just so you can get some blood back to your brain."
Lenny's eyes got big.
His cock, already big, got bigger.
"You mean it?" he gasped.
"Yeah. But I got to watch. I got to make sure you don't try no rough stuff on her, you know? A few bruises, a broken bone or two, they heal up. But if you put a hole in a rubber girl, she's finished for good. You got to treat 'er right."
"I'll be gentle," Lenny promised.
Ray was thinking that it might be sort of exciting, in a perverted way, to watch the callow youth fuck his rubber bride. It might make him nice and horny.
"Well, go ahead," he snarled.
Lenny jumped up. He staggered. His boner was so massive that it dragged him off-balance and he had to grab the edge of the table to keep from falling. Then he threw his head and shoulders back to counterweight the looming cantilever of his prick and turned toward the latex lovely.
"Thanks, Ray," he said.
He moved to the bed and sat down beside her.
That's disgusting, Ray thought. Fucking is one thing, but getting all lovey-dovey with a doll is ridiculous. Especially since I came in her mouth just this morning.
But it was making him horny, as he figured it would, and he dragged his dong out underneath the table.
Lenny was feeling her up.
She seemed to have lost a bit of air during the day and he lowered his mouth to her big nipple-valve and began to blow her up nice and taut.
He finger-fucked her pliable cunt.
Ray began to pound his pork.
Lenny figured he had used enough foreplay now, and he mounted Doris. He hauled her legs up, wrapping them around his scrawny haunches. He arched her back. Then, grinning like a sex fiend, he whacked his cock into the rubber lady.
She has a tight pussy, he thought, with delight. That was one of the benefits of having a plastic girlfriend. If you blew on a real female's tits, her cunt got all sloppy; but when you blew air into Doris, her cunt got tighter.
He began to hump the doll with gusto.
His skinny ass bounded, rebounding off her belly as if he were screwing on a trampoline. Her rubber parts made soft, squishy noises as he pounded the pork to her.
Ray pumped his penis in tempo, feeling all the erotic stimulation that jealousy summons as he watched another man make it with his girl.
And that was the bizarre scene that greeted her amazed eyes when Belinda walked in....
She had knocked on the door.
But the door had no lock and fit the jamb only loosely, so her knock swung it open with a creak. She took one step into the room and stopped dead, gaping at such an incredible situation. She saw an inexperienced youth fucking a rubber doll on the bed and a brawny man jacking-off at the table, the whole scene romantically illuminated by candlelight.
"Oh, excuse me," she apologized.
Ray looked up at her, his hand slowly stroking.
Lenny halted his humping and looked back over his shoulder. He gave a little gasp. The blonde at the door was even sexier than Doris-and she was real!
"Maybe I'd better come back later ... when you fellows aren't so busy...." she said.
"Naw, c'mon in," Ray suggested.
Belinda hesitated for a moment. Then, smiling faintly, she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
"You from welfare or something?"
"No...."
Ray squinted suspiciously. If she ain't from welfare, he thought what the fuck is a girl like this doing here?
She said, "I'm looking for Ray Griffin."
"That's me. And that's my friend, Lenny Turner, there. And that's my girl he's fucking her name's Doris."
"How do you do, Ray? Lenny? Errr. . Doris?"
"What you want with me?"
Belinda was so dumbfounded by the seen that she had forgotten her revised cover story She had to think for a moment. Then she re called it.
She said, "I hear that you have a blue Pontiac?"
"That's right."
"Well, to come straight to the point ... I'm kinky for blue Pontiacs."
Ray squinted. His fist had stopped stroking
"That's the only way I can get my rock off," Belinda explained. "Doing it in a blue Pontiac." She thought for a moment. "Or a least with a man who owns a blue Pontiac,' she added, looking boldly at Ray.
"How come?" he asked, still suspicious still figuring she was there to give him food stamps.
Belinda hadn't expected that she would have to give any reasons for her quirk, but she was thinking well and now she said, "It's because of a trauma of my childhood. When I was eighteen, my father had a blue Pontiac and one day he took me out in it and made me suck him off."
She figured that would shock Ray.
But he said, "Oh, that explains it, then. I never had a daughter, myself, but if I did, I'd do the same thing, too, so I can see how that's logical."
"Errr ... if Doris is your girl, how come the young fellow is doing that to her?"
"He can't get a girl of his own ... being so ugly."
"You're very generous, Ray."
Her eyes drifted down.
"And you have a big prick, as well," she added. "A blue Pontiac and a big cock ... oooh, how wonderful...."
"Let me get this straight...." Ray stopped her.
Belinda giggled saucily.
"It's already straight," she said. "Nice and big and stiff, and the best way to get it straight is to get it straight up my hot cunt...."
Ray decided that the beautiful blonde was serious. He had heard about things like this, nymphomaniacs and such, but he had never found himself in such a position. Still, he was no man to look a gift horse in the mouth and, even if she were lying, the worst he would get out of it was some food stamps. Maybe she really was kinky for blue Pontiacs. He grinned and pushed back from the table; stood up with his cock sticking out from his belly like a spear.
Belinda moved toward him.
Well, I'll be damned, thought Ray.
She was really serious....
There was only one bed in the room, but none of the three people nor the doll was modest about sex. Ray led Belinda to the bed, and she lay down beside Doris. He sat beside her and began to undress her while she squirmed around in happy anticipation. He took her blouse off and began to fondle her big boobs.
Lenny, still stuck up Doris but not moving now, watched this activity with interest.
He reached in at great risk and had a nice feel of real tit himself..
Ray queried, "You mind if he does that?"
"Why, no," answered Belinda. "The more the merrier. Even callow cock is better than nothing."
Ray realized that this was not the kind of girl from whom one could demand fidelity and that, to her, the only infidelity would be fucking the owner of a Ford.
As she allowed Lenny to play with her knockers, he moved down and unfastened her skirt. He dragged it down her legs, then pulled her wet panties down.
Her legs opened wide; her cunt was juicy and her clitoris ws so stiff that it looked like a valve by which her lovely body might be inflated. He began pushing his thick middle finger up her slot. Lenny reached down and added his own digit so that both men could finger-fuck her in counterpoint, one going in as the other pulled out, until the blonde started to squeal with pleasure.
She reached down and wrapped her hand around Ray's big, thick root, frigging him slowly.
Her other hand crossed over and, finding Lenny's cock buried up Doris's plastic pussy, she cupped his nuts.
Ray could see that, like Doris, Belinda required a minimal amount of foreplay.
He ducked down and took her clit in his lips and blew on it, just once, to make sure that she was inflated enough to have a taut cunt-an act committed from habit more than logic-and then he knelt between her legs.
Her hand still folded around his prick, she guided the smoking head to her cunt.
Ray whacked the full length up her twat with the first vigorous lunge, paused for an instant, and then began fucking her with long, rippling strokes.
Belinda gave a happy gasp and wrapped her shapely legs around his flanks as if in imitation of Doris's position. She began to pump against him as he poured the pork to her. He was bouncing up and down and she was grinding under his thrusts. Beside him, inspired, Lenny began balling Doris once more. Side by side on the bed, real woman and rubber, the pair of lovelies took cock.
Lenny's callow pecker slithered up the latex slot.
Ray's fat dick hissed into Belinda's slippery gash.
Belinda whimpered and Doris wheezed.
The scent of hot rubber blended with the scent of hot twat as the remarkable foursome gyrated together. Everyone-except, presumably, Doris-was ready to come with dispatch. Belinda was hot from sucking off the cab driver. Lenny had already been fucking Doris, and besides, had had an erection all day. And Ray, that rare voyeur, was horny from watching his friend fuck his latex lady. They lunged and humped and writhed; they whimpered and moaned and panted.
Lenny blew his boiling wad first.
Belinda was still holding his balls, and she felt the hairy sac burst as he shot his load up Doris's twat. The living female squealed with the vicarious thrill; she could actually hear his jizz splashing into the rubber cuntal compartment. Her own pussy melted as she climaxed.
Feeling that hot box dissolve around his thundering prick, Ray roared like a frenzied beast and blasted a solid lump of heated spunk into Belinda's creaming love chute.
The movement slowed.
A faint hissing could be heard and Ray feared that Doris had sprung a leak-but he was too preoccupied to worry about vulcanization at the moment. His cock, although discharged, was still fat and rock-hard up Belinda's snatch.
He started to hump again.
But Belinda gave him a naughty look.
"Why don't we switch?" she asked.
Ray wasn't too keen on the idea of giving up real live flesh-and-blood twat in favor of rubber-especially since he'd already fucked Doris plenty-but Lenny began to nod in vigorous agreement. What the hell, thought Ray, an orgy is an orgy and a guy can't be particular in a cluster fuck ... They switched.