Chapter 9

The Erotic Circle

Tony sat back in the chair and looked at the fifth of bourbon on the coffee table. It was only half full now and was dwindling as if the bottle had sprung a leak. He drained his glass, leaned forward unsteadily and uncapped the bottle. He poured another stiff one and screwed the cap back on.

He'd come in from the beach about an hour before and found the apartment empty. He guessed Dobber was probably out meeting his pusher. Tony shifted uncomfortably in the chair. His body had a pinkish tinge of sunburn and his skin felt tight, hot and prickly. Tony took another sip of his drink. His insides were rapidly warming to match the glow of his skin.

Tony told himself that he was drinking just for kicks; but under the surface of his thoughts he knew that wasn't true: He was drinking to dull the pangs of his conscience.

Tony drained his glass and refilled it. A door closed in Race's apartment, then he heard voices.

Tony wondered how much Race had spent for his new sports outfit. He was sure those alligator shoes had set Race back plenty. Tony had never had a complete set of new clothes. He had felt lucky if he'd been able to buy a new pair of jeans and a T shirt once or twice a year. On the beach he could get by wearing just swim trunks, but if Frankie ever wanted to go out, he'd have to have some quality clothes.

Tony felt the familiar dullness settling into his mind as though the surface of his brain had been shellacked. He wondered what kind of movie Race was planning this time. Hadn't he said two couples?

Tony remembered a dirty picture some kid in school used to have which showed two men and two naked women on an iron posted bed. He remembered the small billfold size picture had been cracked and faded from much handling, yet it had excited him. Sometimes while in bed at night with the lights out, he thought about the picture, recalling it vividly in his mind down to the last detail.

The warm glow of the liquor spread from Tony's stomach into his loins. Someone tapped lightly on the door to the adjoining apartment. "Come in," Tony said thickly.

The door opened and Margo stepped inside the apartment. Tony looked up at her and blinked blurred eyes. She was wearing her transparent red nylon wrapper, but this time the only thing she had on under it were her black silk stockings. She wore high-heeled red pumps.

Margo walked over to where Tony sat. Her large breasts vibrated loosely in the transparent wrapper. Her nipples looked like fat cherries in a couple of quart-sized highballs. The deeply set navel was an elongated, shadowy orb, set like a dark opal above a misty blonde triangle of allurement.

She stood by the chair, smiling down at him. She reached out and touched his sunburned shoulder with a cool hand. Tony winced.

"Your back looks like the way I like my steaks cooked medium rare. Got any lotion?"

"I think there's a jar of Noxzema over there." Tony pointed toward the bureau shakily and almost dropped his drink.

Margo walked over to the bureau. Her naked buttocks quivered like two soft, plump rabbits nuzzling one another. She picked up the jar of cream, walked back to Tony and unscrewed the lid. She dipped her fingers into the cream and began to smooth it over his prickling shoulders. As she leaned forward, a nylon-sheathed breast pressed lightly, yet hotly, against Tony's back. He felt the heat of it even above his sunburn. "Poor honey," Margo cooed sympathetically. "Margo will fix."

The cream seemed to blot up the heat, cooling the burning flesh. She finished with his back. "Want Margo to get your chest and tummy, sweetheart?" she whispered. Before Tony could answer, she moved around and knelt in front of him. The wrapper split open at the neck and one of her breasts almost thrust out of it. She tugged it closed, smiling coyly. She scooped her fingers into the cream again and applied it liberally to his muscular chest, working down to the ribbed muscles of his stomach. Tony flinched ticklishly and she laughed.

"Margo, what time are you going to make the movie?" Tony asked, having a hard time getting his tongue to form the words.

She finished with his stomach and capped the jar of cream. "The other people are supposed to be here soon. You're going to be my partner, aren't you?"

Tony didn't answer. He gulped some more of his drink.

Margo pouted. "You aren't going to make me do it with a complete stranger, are you?" She giggled. "An actress can't be her best unless she knows her leading man intimately, now can she?"

"Did Race send you in here to talk me into it?"

Margo smiled, eyes glinting evilly. "What gave you that idea?"

Tony grinned drunkenly. "The way you've been bouncing those knockers in my face." Margo leaned close to his face, staring directly into his eyes.

"You aren't going to disappoint me, are you?"

Tony remembered last night vaguely as if recalling a nightmare in the bright reality of daylight. He saw shadowy visions of Margo, naked on the bed. He remembered their passions, the dirty things they'd done. He closed his eyes to shut out the images and gulped down the rest of his drink, almost choking on it.

Margo rose and embraced Tony's neck. A breast pressed hotly into his cheek. Tony remembered the pornographic picture from high school and his thighs began to burn. Gently, as though he were a child, Margo helped him to his feet. The walls of the room seemed to melt, like ice turning to liquid, then swirling dizzily like a whirlpool.

She took his arm and led him into the adjoining apartment, through a bottle-littered living room and into the bedroom. Race was adjusting a photographic floor lamp by the bed. He smiled wolfishly. "You all set, kid? We're going to have a lot of kicks today." He leaned down and plugged in the lights to test them. They flared on around the bed and Tony's head felt as if it had exploded. He blinked his eyes, hard.

Race unplugged the lights and glanced up. "The other people will be here in a minute, kid. We're going to get a couple of Gs for this film. It'll have an extra gimmick. Sit down, kid." He turned to Margo. "Pour him a drink. He's going to need the extra boost." Race laughed harshly, his hard eyes glinting as if at a secret joke.

Margo walked over to a coffee table, uncapped a bottle and filled a glass with liquor. She turned and walked back to Tony. He vaguely realized that she had opened the nylon wrapper and that it was split all the way down the front. Her naked breasts and hips flashed white as the material rippled open, then closed as she walked. She handed the drink to Tony. Her eyes were smoky with passion and her breasts quivered as she breathed hard. "It's going to be a great kick, Tony," she whispered, "but I don't think I can wait until the others get here..."

She tugged at Tony's arm and he rose unsteadily. He took a quick gulp from his drink, tried to set the glass down on a table, but it overturned and spilled. Margo peeled the wrapper back from her shoulders and let it drop into a red flimsy heap on the floor. Naked except for her dark hose and red pumps, she steered him toward the.-b.ed.

Race went into the kitchen to mix a drink. "Don't shoot your wad before we start the camera, baby," he called. Tony heard ice tinkle into a glass.

Margo tugged at the band of Tony's swim trunks with nervous, excited fingers.

Someone knocked at the door. Race walked out of the kitchen and went across the living room. He opened the door. Tony heard a man's voice, then a woman's. Margo stripped Tony's trunks down and they fell to the floor.

"How about a drink?" Race asked the newcomers. "Something like this needs a little warming up for, eh?" He laughed and the others joined him. Tony heard the tinkle of ice in glasses, then Margo rolled over onto the bed, pulling him down with her. "Oh, Tony," she whispered, voice husky with lust. "It's going to be such a rapturous kick. Relax, hon and enjoy it." Her eyes were bright, gleaming like a spider's watching a fly in its web. She kissed him open-mouthed, her lips shockingly hot. Tony's brain felt numb. The room seemed out of focus, as if he were viewing it under water.

Tony was vaguely aware of footsteps approaching the bedroom, conscious also of Margo's hot body pressing against his, her hands busy.

Race came into the room. "Hey, you two. Hold it until I get the camera going."

There was someone with Race. Tony smelled her pungent perfume before he saw her. He looked up from the bed blurry-eyed. In a shocking, electric moment, he realized what Race had meant by an added gimmick in the movie.

The woman was Negro.

A wave of nausea washed through Tony's stomach. But Margo shifted her body and her burning, excited breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips moved forward, searchingly, then Tony felt the sudden animal heat of her in his lower being.

Race picked up a camera and began fooling with it. "This is Edna," he said casually, as though introducing someone in a public gathering. "Her pimp tells me she's the best little hustler in this part of town. He says she's got a motor that's as smooth as a '65 Jaguar. How about that?"

The woman smiled, her eyes flicking over Tony's body. Her tongue moved reflectively across very white teeth.

The Negress was quite attractive, her features more Caucasian than Negroid. Her skin tone was high-yellow, her face fine-boned and delicately shaped. She had dark, flashing eyes.

Tony turned from her, turned from them all. He walked across the room and faced the wall. He felt like a little boy tempted by a dirty act. And that was what he was, he decided. A young, dirty boy, ready to sell himself out again for money more than lust, for gain, more than pride, for the profit of a life he had never known during years of poverty.

"Okay, kid, we're ready," Race called to him.

Tony did not move.

"Hey, kid, are you ready?" Race called again, louder this time.

Tony turned and faced them. Then he said, "Yes, I'm ready ready for anything."