Chapter 10

I PUSHED OPEN THE DOOR TO FIND THE ROOM WAS pitch black, just like the swollen beauty I figured was sprawled somewhere within its confines. I closed the door behind me and bolted it. I was determined to have this Nubian queen without any audience.

"Hey," I called. "Where the hell are you? Isn't there any light at all in this pad?"

In response I only heard a deep sigh from a far corner. Gradually, I became accustomed to the darkness and shortly could begin to make out vague forms in the room. It was the damndest thing. Apparently there was a source of very soft light around the baseboard which could be controlled by who ever was in the sack. Not a bad set up.

"Hey, honey," I called again. "Are you ready for another?"

Still no reply, but I didn't need one as I could now make out the blurred outlines of the big bed in the corner. And on the dark expanse of that pad of pleasure I could discern the outline of what appeared to be an extremely lithe form. That bed, I figured, had been seeing more action than the roller coaster gets all summer.

"Hey, baby, my little ole nigger baby, are you awake?"

There was no answer. I walked toward the bed. Two well-formed arms reached to encompass me. Despite the light, I could see that she was fairly light. A real high yellow. Should be nice and sweet. Fast as hell. like a burp gun. That's the way those broads go. Boom, boom, boom.

She must have turned the button because the room got a little darker again. Yet, I was able to see that she had hard-pointed tits that pointed at the ceiling. Sensuously, she dropped her arms. Her hands slipped up her taut rib cage and gracefully cupped those firm cones. Her thumbs twirled teasingly around the rims of her nipples. Man, was she asking for it. My masculinity responded to the scent and pointed the way. I couldn't stop staring at those nipples which resembled two red currants ready to be plucked and popped into my mouth.

I came up against the side of the bed. My knees pushed against the sheeted mattress. Without a word, she rolled over and her hot lips were fastened on my magic marker. I hoisted myself aboard by my knees. My hand searched for her feminine foliage and my finger penetrated her pussy, which was as soft and lush as jungle vegetation after the monsoons.

While she still clasped me to her, my lips went down to drink at her fountains. I alternately sucked and washed those minarets of ecstasy. Her lips brought me to a full head of steam and I blew it into her chugging engine.

Surprisingly, my fuse did not sputter and go out. She kept working it with those succulent lips and it kept its full size. I figured she would rather have a replacement for my overworked finger, so I gently eased away from her clinging lips.

"Relax, baby," I said. "I'll be right back. I'm going to give you a treat."

She sighed and rolled over on her back. There was something awfully familiar about this broad. The light was turned down so I couldn't make out her features at all. But there was something about her that kept ringing a far away bell. I don't know if it was the shape of her bubbies, the taste of her in my mouth, or the smell of her lushness in my nostrils, or maybe it was an amalgam of all of them But in any case I'd have my time first and then check her out in the light.

I slipped around to the bottom of the big bed and started washing her all over with my tongue starting from the bottom of her feet. First one leg and then the other. They were closely clean-shaven and smelled lingeringly of Midnight Passion. It seemed as if my darting tongue popped into every pore as it washed its way toward paradise.

This broad was going right out of her mind. My mouth watered from the touch of her sweet soft flesh. She was a bundle of sweet, pulsating flesh and I wanted to lap every inch of it. No broad can play it cool when she's going around the world with you.

My mind went back through the years to the first time. It was in Toronto. I had been sent up there to do a first person interview with Billy Bishop the World War I flying ace. It was about a year before he died in Miami. He was one hell of a guy. And what a life he led.

Anyway, I picked myself up a Canuck in the bar of the Sassoon. She initiated me into the delights of the tongue job. She did it to me first and then I reciprocated. She pantingly told me that the wash-up gives every broad the heebie-jeebies. She said that by the time you reach their safe deposit box, they are ready to give away their life's savings.

As long as I lived, I always remember her. What the hell was her name? Must be getting old. Charlene. Black hair. Beautiful white velvet skin. Man, did she know how to use her equipment. We still sent each other Christmas cards, and occasionally got together when she came to town. She was married and had three kids, but it didn't make any difference. After a!, broads like to get some strange stuff once in a while too, you know.

Now I was at her knees. My strong lips sucked the flesh into my mouth. My hands made small circles on her thighs. The broad sighed and raised up her knees and spread her thighs. I sloshed her all over with my tireless tongue. Up the back of her thighs, over her shivering buttocks.

My tongue teased the lovely hollow in the small of her back. She groaned with delight as I flipped her over and wet her round belly. My tongue swirled in her navel. Her strong hands grabbed my head and began pressing it down with a fierce urgency. She arched her buttocks to receive my hot caresses like a cat on a hot tin roof.

I placed my hands on her proud and bold breasts, the nipples rose up to nuzzle my palms. Her arms were locked round my shoulders. She pulled her to me and I felt her breasts like two red hot pillows branding my chest. She alternately shivered and whimpered as my tongue washed her all over.

The sensation shooting from her shaking body tipped me that she was about to go to the moon. But I wasn't. I still wanted to finish my scrubbing technique. My lips were at her most secret part. I pressed her lips and met with a scorching pleasure which was recorded by the intense motions of our constant rampaging bodies.

We melted nearly into each other's forms. My perfecto became immense from her handwork. It grew larger than any tobacco leaf in existence. All my senses seemed attuned to hers. I thought my black beauty was reverting to her jungle ancestors and beyond that into a lioness. She seemed to be jumping from rock to dune, from tree to her helpless prey. She was taking me all in with one large gulp.

I quickly changed positions before all the blood rushed to my head. The tool of my trade entered her secret spot. It went in so fast and hard that she cried out momentarily in pain and wonder. Again, I sensed a familiarity with this black beauty riding along with me. It seemed as though we had gone this route together many, many times in the past and in the not so distant past either.

My masculinity was so much a part of her that I thought my entire body was going to follow my sword into that scabbard. The pulsating pussy rocked in all directions at once as though she were on an electric griddle and no one spot would permit her any surcease from the tiny shocks that seemed to be hitting every pore of her flesh.

Time and again the tide of her wanton passion swept over the sandbar of my lust. I did everything I could with the fierceness of my strongest will power and the muscles of my innermost being to hold back the flood. I didn't want to get washed off that reef of sensuality until I was ready to raise the flood gates of the dam.

But finally I had no strength left to continue holding on. From somewhere at the grand level I felt the throes of a tidal wave sweeping up and over me. When it hit my groin. I halted it for a split second and felt at that moment like all the Tarzans of the world put together as one. Underneath me! Jane writhed about in preparation to receive me.

The surge of my maleness lapped against the root of my life. I fought to hold it for another second. The broad tossed about on the bed like a rubber dinghy in an ocean storm. I decided I couldn't hold it any longer. I rammed myself in to the hilt. She jumped and then moaned and strained against my tense flesh. She was keeping right up with my desire. My tongue grappled with hers in an unrefereed match. She whimpered and shivered anew. I loosed my jet juices and they streamed in a steady array into her. She sighed and gurgled all in the same breath as I drowned her in a sea of creamy delight. The tidal wave engulfed me, twirling my body p to the crest of that perfect wave all of us, in one way or another, always seek throughout our lives. The bed, the darkened room whirled about in radiant bliss and dizzy pleasure as I jetted again and again into that beloved purse.

Then I almost fell off the sheets. The broad, her legs fast around me, whispered, "Oh, Mark, that was wonderful. I was wondering if you would ever get to me tonight, you old show off."

I rose up on my elbows. My eyes strained to pierce the gloom of the room. Now I could see her. The halo glowed from the hair which was all my great happiness. That flaxen hair would remain fixed in my brain until the day I died. How many times had I held it fast in my hands while riding to the foxes and hound. No wonder I constantly was struck with the familiarity of this dynamic woman beneath me. After all, once you have it with Lita Leary, you never forget.

"Lita for cripes sakes," I cried. "What the hell gives?"

"Well, Mark lover boy," she sighed, "you know how much I wanted to get together again with you this weekend. I know you've been straight out in more ways than one and of course I've been breaking my sweet hump for Tom, so when my spies told me about this little party you had set for this afternoon, I. just had to declare myself in. You don't mind, do you, Mark?"

Hell, what could I say. "You know you can declare yourself in any time with me, Lita. It's just that I thought I was going to town with a black beauty and all the time it's you. Don't get me wrong. You're still the best. In fact, I knew all the time we were going at it that there was something familiar about the saddle I was riding."

"Oh, Mark!" she said. "You always say the nicest things." She stretched slowly, the bottoms of her feet rubbing against the edge of the bed. She rolled over a bit to make it easy for me to cup one of her golden globes in my eager fingers. I sensed her nipples beginning to gorge with blood. I eased off a bit. It must be getting late and I had to do about forty different things.

"How's it look for you people?" I asked. "I hope you aren't here to steal any delegates away from Cataldo."

Lita laughed her magic trilling laugh. "Don't worry, Mark. I never mix business and pleasure. And that was strictly pleasure."

"I believe you, doll. But how are you doing. Is Tom going to slip by Cataldo?"

"Now, Mark," Lita scolded slightly. "You're fishing for information. Let me just say that we haven't got it sewed up yet, but then I know for a fact that you haven't got the nomination yet either. The way I see it you people are about two or three votes away. We're right up there."

I wondered who Tom had gotten to in his efforts to pick up the new votes. I had gone the route for Sally to bring us within two votes of the nomination. Two votes, cripes, I remembered again how important it was for my own personal future to get those other two votes. Where the hell were they going to come from. T wondered just how much I meant to Lita.

"Lita, baby," I gushed, ashamed of what I was going to try to do, "we've been good friends a long time. You know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. How about you for me?"

"I don't know. What are you up to now, Mark?"

"I never tried to pull the wool over your eyes. Lita. We're hurting unless we get those two other votes. If the roll call goes into a first round deadlock, some of our delegates probably will start switching to Tom. Once they start, they'll be no holding the others back. You know how important this is to me. Cataldo loses, I've got nothing. Tom loses and you're still married to a millionaire. Isn't there some way you can clue me in without betraying Tom?"

"Mark," she said, "I'd like to help you. I know how much this means to you and all. But I don't know how. I obviously can't give you any of our votes. What about Ima Leigh? It's all over the hotel that the White House has sent her up here ostensibly to help Johnny. How much more help do you people need?"

"I'm sure Ima is doing everything possible, Lita. But let's face it: this convention was fairly well sewed up between my man and Tom Ward before she arrived. And she really hasn't got a good grasp on the local situation in the state. You can read figures and graphs in Washington, but it's not the same thing as being on the scene and knowing the people involved first hand like you and me. No, I've got to come at it from some different angle, or other way. But I'll be damned if I know how."

We were both silent for a minute letting our fingers trail over each other's bodies. Again my fingers nipped her buds. Again they were instantly gorged with hot blood. Old Lita, she never does get enough.

"What about Jim Swenson or Mike Napolitano? I know we haven't been able to budge either one of them yet. Maybe you can do something through their wives. Alice Swenson is about forty but still a looker. Mike's wife is a real Bohemian. Poetry, jazz, the whole route. Maybe even LSD, Batman, pop art."

"I don't know," I replied hesitantly. "Both of them are two tough nuts to crack. They've got two votes apiece and are holding on to them for dear life."

Our conversation was interrupted by a brusque knocking at the door. Thank heavens I had locked the damn thing.

"Yeh, who is it?"

"Mr. Vista, it's the bellhop. Time to wrap it up. You said to tell you when it's four-fifteen."

"Okay. Right. Thanks." I bounded out of bed. It was getting late. "Lita, thanks, baby. I'll try Swenson's wife. The other broad is too kookie for me at this stage of the game. I just don't feel like reading Kerouac or Ginsberg right now. I hate to eat and run, but you understand, don't you."

Lita laid sprawled on the sheets. "Yes, of course. Good luck to you. Win or lose, you'll still be tops in my book. You can come and write a chapter in it any time lover man. I'll look for you in the hall tonight. I'd still like to make it with the daiquiris."

"Thanks, sweets, for being so understanding. Here's a big kiss. You want to make it any more with these guys?"

"No thanks, Mark, I've had enough for now," she replied very matter-of-factly. The broad killed me. She could take on the whole Legislature and still have room for more.

I gave her a fast peck on the forehead and left.