Chapter 19
About five in the afternoon, two tough looking men knocked on the door of Arlene's apartment. Arlene let them in, a little frightened by their appearance and manner. The muscular pair scarcely noticed her. They inspected the entire apartment for several minutes and then plopped down on the couch, eyeing the girl.
But there was something about the way they looked that made the shivers run up and down Arlene's back. They didn't seem interested in beauty, her body or sex. They just sat and said nothing. She almost ran to the bedroom to look in the mirror. She thought perhaps somehow she had made herself a witch instead of an attractive young girl.
"Won't either of you have a drink?" she asked after the silence began to grate her nerves.
In unison they shook their heads.
"Do you mind if I get ready for my date?" she asked, glad at the chance to get away into the bedroom.
"It's okay," said one of the men. "But we got to watch you, too. To make sure you don't take a powder!"
"You mean you're going to watch me while I'm getting dressed?"
Both men nodded in unison. Arlene became a little nervous. She almost wished these guys would show a little human emotion-maybe make a pass at her. A guy who couldn't get sexually aroused was a dangerous guy indeed, she thought. Well, maybe they would when she got nude and slipped into her panties and bra-or slipped out of them. She went into the bedroom and began to undress slowly, easing off each article of clothing as if she had all the time in the world to do it.
She would try all her teasing techniques. Reaching behind her back, she snagged the zipper on her dresss.
"Oh," she said petulantly, "I've got my zipper stuck. Would one of you two gentlemen please help me?" She looked out into the living room to see the reaction. The two men looked at each other a few seconds and then one of them came into the bedroom. The other merely sat quietly, hardly moving a muscle in his body or in his face. He might as well have been a mummy, she thought.
The man who did come to help her, mechanically pulled the zipper down the full length of its course, then stepped back to watch the girl again from a distance.
She tried walking around a bit, so her breasts would jiggle a bit and her hips would roll, giving accent to her full buttocks, flat stomach and long legs. She put one arm on her hip and struck a pose to emphasize her breasts. She put a hand to her head and turned at another angle to give them another view of her beauty.
The two men continued to stare at her, but neither made a move or a sound. She could tell they were interested for they didn't take their eyes off her for a moment. She also saw their eyes follow each movement of her body as she tried to dance around. She hoped these movements, however slight, would give them ideas. But to no avail.
"Oh well, what the hell," she said in disgust, "My date will appreciate me, I'm sure of that. He loves to see me naked, prancing around in front of him. And does it give him ideas! He can hardly keep his hot hands off me and we really 'go to town'. You fellows don't know what you're missing. I'll bet you're just a bunch of deadheads who never had a girl in your lives."
The two continued to stare but still made no move or showed any signs of appreciation of her performance.
Punctually, Jim arrived, with the traditional square gift of roses, two dozen of them. Arlene nearly grimaced when she saw them, but managed a sweet smile for her lover. What the hell were roses compared to mink and Thunderbirds!
"Jim," she shrilled, "you're so sweet to bring me roses-my favorite flowers." She placed them in a vase over the mantle. Jim kissed her politely. He was not going to let his feelings for her overwhelm him again as they had in Chicago when he gave way to lust.
Here was the girl who loved him and had even suggested they might get married some day. He wanted to love her like a wife should be loved-with respect, not animal-like hunger. Jim liked to set Arlene up on a pedestal as his ideal for a wife and sweetheart. He still had some old-fashioned ideas given him by his parents about how a man should treat women, especially one who would be his wife.
"Arlene, you look very beautiful tonight," he managed to stammer. He sat on the couch as Arlene sweept about the room, dancing to the music. "It was so nice of you to come here tonight," said the girl. "I'll bet you had a hard day at practice, too. Are you tired?"
"Not when I see you," replied Jim positively. "Every time I'm near you I feel like a new man! I thought we'd go out and have dinner tonight at some nice restaurant. How does that strike you?" Arlene would not hear of it.
"Sweetheart," she said softly, "I wouldn't think of it. Why, you are going to need every ounce of strength for those Cleveland players in the championship game Sunday. I want us to stay right here in my apartment and have a quiet evening at home. Just pretend it is your home, Jim." She kissed him quickly and squeezed his hand.
"Here," she said, "let me take off your shoes. I just want you to be comfortable as if you and I were old married folks." It was a good approach for the serious-minded athlete who had matrimonial intentions anyway. He thought perhaps here was a chance to broach the subject and see what her reaction was. He was afraid she might think they hadn't known each other long enough to get serious so early, but Jim thought he could kind of feel her out on matrimony.
He liked the idea of a quiet evening at home. Jim hoped it would be one in which they could become better acquainted through talk of things they liked and enjoyed. Jim was not adverse to sex and enjoyed it to the fullest with her the other night in Chicago. If that is what she wanted, he would too, and would do his best to please her.
"That's awfully sweet of you," he said.
"Think nothing of it. We're going to spend a lot of evenings in this way. Just you and I, aren't we?" Jim felt his pulse quicken as Arlene sat down beside him and snuggled up. He wanted to stay here in the apartment with her in the worst way, but he was afraid his will power would disintegrate again and he'd take advantage of this girl.
"Sure you don't want to go out?"
"Honest, honey, I just want to be here with you." She remembered those two grim men in the shower. She shuddered at what they might do if she let the victim get away. "Honey, kiss me," she said. Jim kissed her in a restrained manner. Arlene laughed sympathetically. "You're tired. I'll have to kiss you."
And she sat in his lap, wiggling her buttocks around sensuously and pressing her full breasts against his chest as she buried her lips in his. She held him that way for a long time and when she released him, she noticed a chink in his armor. He was starting to sweat a little and fidget with his collar.
"Silly boy," she chided, "don't be ashamed to kiss me. When you are in love, there's nothing wrong with it, is there?"
"Oh, Jim," she murmured. "Oh Jim." She tore herself free, flung herself face down on the bed. Jim was at her side in an instant.
"Do you think I am bad to act this way, Jim dearest?" she protested.
"No," said the powerless, sex-influenced youngster.
"Then," said Arlene eagerly, "let me take my clothes off for you."
Jim, the power of speech now weakened, merely nodded mutely. He devoured her nakedness with his eyes as she shed her garments slowly.
"Will you help me with my bra?" Arlene asked as she tood in front of him in only panties and bra, high stockings and shoes.
Jim bashfully nodded but seemed rooted to the bed by fear of something. He continued to stare at her, his tongue moistening his lips every few moments as he feasted his eyes on her naked loveliness.
"Well, come on then, honey. Don't be such a slowpoke! We do want to get in some real man and woman loving tonight before you tuck yourself in bed for the night. Come on, honey, help me with my bra. Then I can take off my panties by myself."
Jim rose stiffly from the bed and went around in back of Arlene to unhook the bra and pull it away from her breasts, their tips hardning a bit in the coolish night air. He reached around after the bra fell to the floor and squeezed them slightly to test their firmness.
Arlene shuddered a bit as his fingers moved slowly over the nipples, making them even more rigid and causing them to protrude slightly as she stood there admiring herself in the mirror. She felt his maleness touch her buttocks as he reached around and she wiggled her hips impishly. Her hot mouth covered his as she turned to face him and put her arms around his neck.
Arlene teased as she often did with her male friends. "I'm nude and ready for you," she said in his ear. But she made Jim abstain from any sexual moves while she went through an undulating king of a dance to further excite him.
She was exhilarated herself now. Not because of the quarterback, but because of the two men in the shower stall. They must be hearing all this, perhaps they have been watching. Arlene bet she was getting them shook now. Served them right. They had their chance and blew it.
"I want to dance for you, Jim," she entreated. She gracefully swept around the bed, doing suggestive things with her hips and pelvis while the bug-eyed Jim sweated in a panic of desire. Her breasts swung in big firm circles as she turned around in quick arcs, their pink tips seeming to reach out invitingly to him. Oh, he was ready! The moment Arlene laid down he would be swarming all over her, jack rabbit that he was when sexually aroused.
Gaily, confidently she danced by the bathroom and tapped on the shower stall. It was a signal the thugs inside didn't need. They sensed the hour was at hand-the brutal moment of truth for the suckered Pro's quarterback.
Arlene threw herself on the big wide bed, breasts thrust up by their firmness, their tips hardened. Her flat stomach flattened out even more. Her thighs seemed to have a slight misty look to them as if sweat had glistened them. Her thighs were close together as she first laid down, but now they swung apart slightly as she looked up at him with what he took to be a look of love in her eyes.
Jim had never felt so sexually aroused as he was now. And when Arlene whispered: "Oh, Jim, take me," he became insane with the repression built up by Arlene's teasing.
With a complete lack of aplomb, Jim inserted himself between her misty thighs, pressing his massive organ abruptly against the delicate portal of her femininity.
He squirmed it past the outer lips into the entranceway to her sex, then further still. Suddenly, all traces of reticence gone, he skewered and humped it into her, sending it shuddering up her tight little sheath, spreading wide the sex lips as she hoisted her legs around his frenzied hips.
Almost instantly he began gasping, and she sensed that once more it was going to be a rabbit affair. His nails dug deeply into her shoulders as he pressed down against her, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from screaming out in pain.
He was thudding and skewering deeply into her, his hips working feverishly against her widespread crotch.
She heard his breathing suddenly quicken, and then she felt a tensing in his balls as they thumped against her anus each time he banged against her.
"Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Arlene ... I'm ... cominggggggggggggg!" he suddenly gasped, and she felt a hot, searing bathing of the pussy walls, as his cock pumped and spurted out the load that he had been saving up for her.
It was the signal for the goons.
They softly stole up behind the couple engaged in violent lovemaking, their nude bodies twisted together and their mouths fastened on each other, their legs tossing around in lust. They momentarily hesitated-like a bullfighter before he send his sword into the heart of the beaten beast.
Arlene could see them, but Jim's eyes were looking downward to her naked body, not upward. Besides, the two lovers were dizzy with passion and their eyes were mostly closed as they moved in the age old ebbing of love. Even Arlene was feeling the heat and maleness of Jim's body so she responded slightly to his stimulations. Some of the moans of passion she emitted had been quite real.
Arlene saw the first blow coming. Her cry of alarm timed just right, came too late for Jim to avoid the blow.
One of the thugs, with a sock full of lead pellets, swung hard at Jim's head, the metal crunching audibly on his skull. The treacherous strike stunned the athlete, but did not knock him out. After all, he had taken his share of lumps in the pro football business where mayhem is one of the basic tactics.
Jim had no idea of what had happened. There was Arlene staring into his eyes, her eyes wide and devoid of love or sex. She was looking past him. There was someone behind him. Jim's extraordinary reflexes now took over. He was being attacked. His reactions were instinctive and unerring.
The skilled athlete replaced the surprised lover. He was more in his element here than being led by the nose by a pretty girl in bed. A lightning maneuver and he was four feet from the bed, on his feet, quite naked, but a warrior armed for battle nevertheless.
The two muggers were caught flat-footed. They stood, momentarily regarding the powerfully built young man, then they advanced. One flicked a switchblade, the other aimed his lead sack at Jim's face. Jim ducked the blackjack and went for the knife wielder.
He caught the man's arm, wrenched it, heard a snap and saw the goon collapse in a heap. It was all over for the goon in an instant. He lay moaning, his arm shattered by Jim's assault. Jim paid no more attention to him, but turned to goon number two.
The second thug, seeing the battle turn against him, now flung down his blackjack and pulled a snub-nosed revolver from his pocket. He fired once. The bullet tore into the wall. Instantly Jim had his man by the throat, his mighty fingers cracking into the goon's voice box. He was going to choke the bastard to death.
Tighter went his fingers until he noticed the bulging eyes, the purple color blotching his face. Then Jim became conscious of a rain of ineffectual blows on his neck and shoulders. It was Arlene-now frantic and fearful at this unexpected turn of events.
Jim heard her voice getting through to him as from a great distance. Finally he made out the words.
"Don't kill him, you murderer, don't kill him."
Jim turned and looked at the girl, his hand still throttling the goon.
"Why not?" he asked dazedly.
"Because, because," sobbed the hysterical hussy, "He's my husband." Jim relaxed his hands. The thug slid to the bed, groaning and clutching his mangled throat.
"Your husband!" he repeated in bewilderment.
"Yes, you damned square, my husband! I ought to call the police, you bastard!" Arlene hated the quarterback now with all the pent-up fury of what this failure implied. God, what would Mike say. What would Big Joe do? These fellows played for keeps. Arlene was almost hysterical with fear and hate.
"You dirty sonofabitch," she cried at Jim, "you sonofabitch, you've ruined everything!"
Jim shook his head in disbelief. His simple little world had been kicked in the groin. His comprehension staggered. All he knew was that the girl he loved had betrayed him. That she was little better than a whore.
He raised his hand and slapped her pretty little face. Then he looked at the hand as if it were some strange weapon he had no control over. It was his right hand, the hand the goons were to destroy.
Arlene shivered with the impact, then ran cyring, screaming for her life into the shower, slamming the glass door behind her. Jim followed her. He could see her quivering, nude body faintly through the frosted glass.
With one instinctive desire to vent his sickened anger, he doubled his fist .and sent it crashing through the glass. He was conscious then only of it bleeding and feeling numb. But that didn't matter or hurt. Slowly, the blood dripping on the white rug, he dressed. The two goons lay moaning. From the shower came the fearful sobs of the cowering temptress. Like a man in shock, Jim fully dressed, walked out of the apartment.