Chapter 6
Have you ever heard a chorus of gasps and moans and screams of eight women in ecstasy?
Well, that gives you a rough idea of what it was like that afternoon.
Freddie was a good lover. But at first I couldn't respond to him because I was so busy looking at the other couples around us and listening to the gasps and the sighs and the moans.
The blonde who was the first to strip was on my left. She was getting it Chinese. A thick muscular hairy guy was leaning forward on his hands, shoving her long slim legs back almost to her torso. Her face was twisted by passion unfulfilled. Her fists were beating on the mattress. And she was gasping and moaning, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," as he rammed her faster and faster. And on my right was a buxom brunette up on her knees with her pendulous breasts hanging down and swinging. They were having 69. Her butt was down on his face. But I could see a shock of sandy hair and a thick muscular body. And when she raised her head briefly, I wondered how she would ever be able to take all of that. He had one bigger than Man O' War.
And just below our feet I got a side view of a skinny redhead up on her knees playing lion and a fat guy with six chins and very little hair was throwing the meat to her. She was clawing at the mattress and ramming back against him as hard as he was ramming her. And she was moaning and screaming louder than any of them.
"Are you frigid?" Freddie asked me.
I pulled my gaze away from the gal playing lion and looked at Freddie. "No. But I'm not used to doing it out in the middle of the street."
"You'll get used to it."
"I hope so. But I'm making no promises. Why don't we go off into a bedroom?"
"No. That's against the rules. We've been doing it this way for over fifteen years. And we like it this way."
I reached and rubbed his big prong. I began getting hot.
"Why don't we have 69?" I asked.
"Okay by me," Freddie said. "Who gets on top?"
"I do. That way I don't get it rammed down my neck."
Freddie got on his back. I straddled him and slowly lowered my butt. His hands pressed against it and then I felt his tongue. I exploded. My belly was in knots and passion was churning within me. So I went down on him. And, locked together, we rolled and flopped all over that mattress and onto the floor.
He finally broke free and pulled me back onto the mattress. Just then the blonde next to me let out a long shrieking wail. That chilled it for me. But he shoved my legs up and wide. And he gave me a wash job like I had never had before. And I began popping like a string of firecrackers.
He didn't give me a chance to cool off. He grabbed my ankles and held my legs straight up and wide apart. He got on his knees and WHAM! He was in.
He began with long slow strokes. And I began gasping and moaning as loud as the blonde next to me. And the sounds of ecstasy all around me now charged me even more and drove me to even greater fury. I know saw why they were all together. They were like a school of fish, flopping and thrashing around. And the grunts and screams and moans and gasps provided the perfect backdrop to make one's passion boil.
Freddie fell forward against his hands. My knees were jammed against my breasts. I didn't know until then that I was so double-jointed.
We were headed for the wire together. I reached up and grabbed the hair on his head and tugged. The tidal wave of passion within me suddenly boiled over as he gave me his load. And I let out a long banshee scream louder than the blonde's.
And then we rolled apart, panting and gasping and fighting for breath.
In time, I got up on one elbow. It looked like a battlefield after the battle was over, with corpses sprawled all over the place. And then I understood something else. In a group like this, nearly everyone's passion mounted at the same pace, since all were equally stimulated by what was going on around them. And I dimly remembered the tumult and screaming at the time that I had been torn apart.
I saw Pete wobbling to his feet.
"No bed service," he yelled. "The bar is open if you can make it."
One by one the couples staggered to their feet and headed for the kitchen.
"Do you want a drink?" Freddie asked me. "Yes."
"Lie still. I'll bring it to you."
"You're sweet," I told him.
I looked around me. All the other women were going to the kitchen.
I got to my feet. "It looks like all the other squaws have to get their own drinks. So I might as well do as they do."
Freddie grinned. "This is rough country. You have to light for a living up here. The men are away a lot. So the women have to stand on their own two feet. It's not that the women are squaws. The way we live up here has to be different than in the city."
I nodded. Tim came over to me. He looked at Freddie.
"I'm jealous," Tim said.
"You needn't be," I told him. "You're next if you want to be."
He was long and lean and muscular. He was really hung. He put an arm around me and we headed for the kitchen.
I looked around. Freddie was right behind us.
"You were great," I told Freddie. "And thanks."
"I thought you'd never get cranked up," he told me. "And every time you had a flameout, I thought I'd never get you started again."
I laughed and looked up at Tim. "He must be a flyboy."
"Yeah. Korea. He graduated from high school the year the rest of us went in. That's why we call him Pappy."
"Pappy?"
"Yes. Pappy Boyles. I think his first name is Steve."
"He told me it was Freddie."
"Yeah, that's right. There used to be a gag about Freddie Boyles. And the other guy would say when or why or how often."
We pushed into the kitchen. But we were stopped by the crowd.
"Let's go get a cigarette," Tim said.
He wheeled me around and let me to a coffee table. He plucked two cigarettes from a box and picked up a book of matches. He stuck one cigarette between my lips and lit it. Then he got his going.
"What was all this about you getting cranked up and having flameouts?" Tim asked.
I laughed. "I told him that I wasn't accustomed to doing it out in the middle of the street."
Tim laughed. "You'll get used to it."
"I did, finally. In fact, after I got the hang of it, it made me hotter than I've ever been before."
"That it will. These squares that go off and hide in bedrooms don't know what they're missing."
They began drifting in from the kitchen, clutching a drink and laughing and chattering. It's funny what a difference clothes make. When you're naked, it's damned hard to be pompous and conceited and egotistical. When you're stripped of your clothes you're also stripped of the mask you usually hide behind. More than your body is bare. So are your emotions. And, after you get used to it, you enjoy people better when their bodies and masks are stripped off. You see them as they really are, not as they wish the world to think of them.
"Who's that guy with the scar on his cheek?" I asked.
"Sammy Longdon. He got that in a car wreck when we were in high school. He started out as a livestock truck driver. Sy told me the other night he now has two trucks and rents a third when he's busy. Sy says he's doing okay."
"Yes. But notice him. And notice his eyes. He acts as if he was expecting to be jumped."
"Yeah. I hadn't noticed that. I naturally think of him as he was fifteen years ago."
"I wonder what's making him so jumpy," I said.
"I dunno. I'll try to find out. But you're a pretty good judge of human nature. Who else has a problem?"
"That brunette over there alone in the corner. She was off in that corner while the rest of us were drawing slips from the barrel. She acts as if she felt unclean being here."
"That's Millie Padgett. She married Jeff Haydon shortly after they got out of high school. I'm told they got on a religious kick. They were real nuts, I guess. They didn't have any kids. About five years ago Jeff got killed in an accident at the sawmill. Millie went all to pieces and wound up as an alcoholic. Dick Padgett, who was in my high school class, made his career in the Army. He came down with something they couldn't cure. So they gave him a medical discharge. And Dick came back here to settle down. That was about the time that Jeff died. In a few months Dick and Millie were going together. They were married about a year after Jeff died."
"Is she still a religious nut?" I asked.
"No. She considers herself a fallen woman."
"There's more to it than that," I said.
"What do you mean?" Tim asked.
"I dunno. But she's got more than a guilt complex. What does this Dick Padgett do?"
"Sy says he doesn't know. He and Millie stay pretty much to themselves on a ranch down on Deer Flat. He's been run in a few times for hunting deer out of season. And nobody knows how he makes a living."
"Then that's your answer," I said. "Millie knows something and she's ashamed of it. I'll make book on it."
"I won't argue with you. But why all this psychoanalysis?"
"I'm looking for the answer to who killed Johnny Blake. It had to be someone living up here."
"I think you're way out in left field now," Tim said. He looked toward the kitchen. "Well, it's cleared out now. Let's go get a drink."
As we went into the kitchen a tall lanky guy with high cheekbones and straight black hair passed us. He nodded but said nothing.
"That's Dick Padgett," Tim said in a low voice.
"He looks as creepy as Millie," I told him.
Tim laughed and led me into the kitchen.
"Have you got any booze left?" Tim asked.
"Sure. There's another case of bourbon back there. Will that be enough for you?"
"It ought to be," Tim told him. Tim looked at me. "The usual?"
"Yes," I said.
"Two bourbon on the rocks," Tim told Pete. Pete reached for two glasses and grabbed up a jug. "Say, what's with Dick Padgett?" Tim asked. "I dunno. Why?"
"He and Millie are acting awful funny. Hell, years ago, Dick was a happy-go-lucky guy."
"Yeah. But not since he came back from the Army."
"And is Millie still on the sauce?"
Pete shook his head. "No, Dick got her straightened out. Oh, they have a drink. I just fixed one for both of them a few minutes ago. But, no, Millie's okay now."
Pete dropped some ice into the glasses. He handed them to us.
"Now don't get swacked on that," Pete said with a grin.
"We'll try not to," Tim promised.
He grabbed my arm and led me back into the living room. It was now as it had been when we first walked in. Smoke filled the room. There was laughter and chatter and everybody was happy. Everybody, that is, but Millie. She was still off in the corner and sucking on a cigarette. I finally located Dick Padgett. He was over in another corner talking to the fat guy who had been throwing the meat to the gal below us.
"Who's that fat guy?" I asked.
"Hank Clemens," Tim said.
"They look pretty serious over there," I said.
"Yeah."
"What does Hank do?" I asked. "I dunno."
"I'd suggest you find out," I said. "You're sure weaving cloth with thin air," Tim told me. "Maybe I am. But let's just say that I have a long nose, and it tickles sometimes when things aren't right."
"Is it tickling now?"
"Yes. Do you know whether Millie had anybody on the last go-round?"
"Yes. Fred Carter. But it didn't last long. They were right next to me. And then Millie took off for her corner."
A skinny guy with arms like Popeye and with his nose off center walked up.
"Hi, Lem," Tim greeted.
Lem nodded.
"Have you met Connie Stewart?" Tim asked. "Yep." He looked at me and nodded. "Was into her place a while back for a haircut. Does good work." 'Thanks," I said.
Lem looked up at Tim. "Can I see you a few minutes alone?"
"Sure." Tim looked at me. "Will you excuse me a few minutes?"
"Sure."
"I'll be right back," Tim promised.
Lem led Tim out on the porch and they walked to the far end of it. I could see them through the front window. Lem looked worried. I wondered what was up.
I went back into the kitchen. It was deserted. So I helped myself and built another drink. Then I stood there a few minutes by the open window. How good it seemed to get some fresh air. And then I wandered out through another doorway. I was in a hall. I ambled down it.
I suddenly heard gasping and moaning. I frowned. It was a man.
As I passed the open doorway I glanced in. I stared.
There were two naked men on the bed. They were belly to belly. But each had a hand busy down below. And then their lips mashed together.
I glanced behind me down the hall. Nobody was coming. The hall was deserted. So I stood there.
They rolled apart. One of them got on his knees and straddled the other one. He slowly lowered his butt. And then they had 69.
I was fascinated. I had heard of such things. And it made me hot to watch them, locked together, and rolling all over the bed.
I went on down the hall. Just before I reached the next doorway I heard women gasping and moaning. And there were two of them on the bed, with one woman on her back and .with a blonde up on her elbow caressing the other woman's breasts.
I stood there, fascinated again. I was really getting an education at this party.
The blonde leaned over and her lips clamped on a hard erect nipple while her hand caressed the breast. And the other woman gasped and moaned.
The blonde then went to work on the other nipple and her hand rambled down over the other woman's belly and began stroking her inner thighs. They were shoved apart. The blonde's finger probed the joy box and slipped inside.
The redhead screamed as she exploded. She grabbed the blonde around the neck and pulled her face down. Their lips mashed together. And their faces squirmed around as the blonde's finger danced inside the redhead.
The blonde finally pulled away. She wheeled around. And then they had 69.
I turned around and headed back to the kitchen. Tim was standing by the butcher block, building a drink.
"I wondered what had happened to you," Tim told me.
"I've been increasing my education," I said with a grin.
"How?"
"Two guys are going at it down there on the bed. In the next room there are two women."
Tim laughed. "Seems they've gotten more worldly ways since high school days. Who is it?"
"I don't know. I don't know all their names."
We went back into the living room. Three couples were wrestling on the mattresses. Everyone else stood around laughing and talking and ignoring them. The spell was now broken. The three couples looked ludicrous instead of exciting.
Pete came in. "Hey, everybody. Knock it off for a minute, will you?"
Everyone stopped talking and stared at him. Everyone, that is, except the three couples on the mattresses. They were too far gone.
"We've got to get this thing cranked up again," Pete said. "We got a new reel last week. You've never seen it. How about some movies?"
There were cheers and applause.
"Okay, movies it is," Pete said. "Let's get things shoved around here and pull the drapes. I'll go get the machine."
I had heard of such things. But I had never seen such a movie. So I was curious.
Pete came back lugging a big black case. He swung it up onto a table. He left the room and came back with a long black tube. It turned out to be a screen that he hung from a metal folding rack. He then went back to the case on the table and set up the projector. The drapes were drawn.
Pete snapped on the projector. "Douse the lights," he called.
Tim and I were sitting side by side on two straight chairs. It wasn't very comfortable.
The projector whirred for a moment. Then music blared. And then on the white screen there appeared the title: Sex Is Where You Find It.
"Yeah," Tim grunted.
It opened with a long shot of a rural scene. The trees were swaying in the breeze. Cows grazed in a pasture. And away up on a hill was a house.
And then the camera closed on the house. The house came nearer and nearer. It was an old-fashioned farmhouse with a big front porch and with chickens clucking and pecking in the yard around it.
And then the camera focused on an upstairs window, the window grew nearer and nearer. And then, suddenly, we were in a bedroom.
Two girls lay on a big old-fashioned bed with a carved headboard. Each was wearing a simple print dress. They were barefoot. And they were chattering about the dance they were going to that night, and how they had to get a nap that afternoon. There was also the usual girl talk about what they were going to wear. They chattered on and on for a few minutes until you began to wonder where and when they were going to get some sex.
And then they started griping about the hot weather. From the conversation you found out that the girl with the earrings lived in the city and was visiting in the country. The other girl was her cousin.
The city girl said they'd be cooler if they took off their dresses. The country girl was too bashful.
But finally the city girl arched her back and pulled up her dress. She was nearest to the camera. Her legs were long and slim. It made you want to see more.
She sat up and crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her dress. She pulled it up and over her head. She tossed it aside and lay back.
She was stacked. She was all curves and in the right places. She had massive breasts that stood up like twin peaks. And she lay there and closed her eyes as though trying to go to sleep.
You should have seen the gradual change on the country girl's face. At first she registered shock and dismay. But, in time, that faded and admiration took over. And the country girl remarked about what a beautiful body the city girl had.
The city girl was aloof and acted as if she were trying to go to sleep. But she finally opened her eyes and asked her cousin why she didn't take off her dress, too. She might as well get comfortable.
The country girl sat up and got rid of her dress. She had a beautiful body, too. But it was not as lush and she did not have the curves. She was built more like a greyhound.
The country girl fell back and they lay there side by side for a moment. And then the city girl's hand crept out and began stroking her cousin's belly. Her hand soon got bolder and crept up onto her breasts. It then began plucking the nipples.
The city girl got up on an elbow and her lips clamped on a nipple. It was just as I had seen it in the back bedroom.
I glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at the screen. There were low gasps and you could sense the excitement in the room.
I glanced back into the corner. Millie wasn't there. I leaned toward Tim and told him.
"So what? She's probably moved."
I nodded. But I wondered why she would have moved. She had been glued to that corner all afternoon.
The city girl was now planting kisses all over her cousin's belly and working down and down and down. She spread her cousin's legs and threw her leg up and over. It was just as I had seen it in the back bedroom. So again I looked away. I glanced over at the corner where Millie had been. There was something on the floor.
I leaned toward Tim. "Something's on the floor over there in that corner," I said.
"Where?"
"Where Millie was."
He frowned and stared over at the corner. He stood up. "Down in front," someone yelled. Tim ignored it. I got up and followed him. Everyone was yelling at us.
It was dark back there in that corner. Tim went to a window and yanked back the drapes.
Everyone started yelling at him. But again Tim paid no attention to them. And he had good reason as he stood there staring at the floor.
Millie lay there on her back with one leg doubled under her. Her face was twisted out of shape. And she stared up at us with eyes that did not see.