Chapter 12
Arthur Wrigley leafed through the new issue of Playboy which Denise had just laid aside. It bothered him a bit for her to get it first but wouldn't mention it to her. She really didn't do it any harm since the center spread was still intact.
"Are you still ogling that Alice in Wonderland book?" demanded Mrs. Wrigley. "Couldn't you lay it down long enough to fix the catch on this door?" She banged her fist against the door which in turn banged against the cupboard frame making two bangs and a lot of aggravation. "Couldn't you?" she repeated.
"Oh all right," muttered Arthur Wrigley laying the magazine down beside his easy chair.
"What the devil's so all fired important tonight?"
"It won't stay shut," complained Mrs. Wrigley. "It keeps coming open and someday I'll poke an eye out on it."
"Don't get so riled up," soothed Mr. Wrigley, "It's a very simple matter." He examined the door in question and bent the small half circle prong which closed about the ball attached to the cupboard shelf. "All you have to do is tighten this," he pointed to the item. "It's very simple ... even a ten year old child could do it."
"I'm sorry I bothered you," replied Mrs. Wrigley. She hated for Arthur to act that way and it irritated her a great deal. Being spoken to like a child and treated as though she couldn't open a jar alone.
"Nothing to have fits about," retorted Mr. Wrigley. "Didn't take over five minutes."
"Nothing is important to you except that sex book of yours."
"Now Harriett...!"
Mrs. Wrigley turned on her heel and headed down the hall toward the bedroom. There was a peculiar look on her face and for a moment Mr. Wrigley thought he saw a tear. He brushed that idea aside as being ridiculous. Why would she cry over a simple thing like a door catch that didn't work?
Denise Wrigley was sorting her records when he went back to his chair. She looked up at him with that little girl look she used when seeking favors.
"Do you think it is permissible for consenting adults to have sex outside of marriage?" She asked the question in a matter of course tone and Mr. Wrigley was so surprised he didn't know quite how to answer.
"What, Baby?" he asked, just to be sure he had heard her right.
Denise repeated the question. "Do you think it is all right for grown up people to have intercourse if they want to?"
"That depends on the people," replied Mr. Wrigley wondering what had brought this on.
"People who aren't married?" asked Denise.
"Under certain circumstances," replied Mr. Wrigley slowly, "It would depend on the conditions."
"If you loved the other person?"
"Possibly, yes, I think so...."
"Suppose you didn't love them," stated Denise, pursuing the question. "Suppose you just knew them?"
"That would depend."
"It's being done, isn't it, Daddy?"
"I'm sure it is," replied Mr. Wrigley and his neck was beginning to feel very warm. "Then it is all right? You said it was."
"Yes, I guess so."
"For me, Daddy?"
"Huh?" Mr. Wrigley almost dropped his book. "Huh?"
Denise giggled. "I said, was it all right for me?"
"To ... to ... to have intercourse?"
"Of course. Isn't that what we were talking about?"
"Yes, yes, of course," agreed Mr. Wrigley completely confused. "Yes, I suppose it would be all right for you to have intercourse ... under the proper circumstances."
"With an acquaintance?"
"No!" blurted Mr. Wrigley, his conscience knocking at his fatherly judgement. "No! Of course not!"
"Isn't that what you said, Daddy?" demanded Miss Wrigley, deliberately staring her father down. "Isn't it, Daddy?"
"Yes ... er ... I don't know ... Do we have to talk about it now?"
"No Daddy ... Sorry! I just thought I would ask. That's what it says in your book there and I figured if it was all right for some, it should be all right for everyone."
"Oh," sighed Mr. Wrigley greatly relieved. "You just read my magazine anytime you want to, Baby. It has a lot of good stuff in it." He thought for a moment and then added. "But don't take it too much to heart."
"Yes Daddy, thank you." Denise turned to the stereo and began selecting records to show Leonard. She had found out what she wanted to know and could decide now what she would have to do. In spite of the fact her parents talked contemporary talk, she was positive that underneath, they would never understand her problem.
Leonard Felton approached the Wrigley household with a great deal of misgiving. He parked his mother's Nova II at the curb one house beyond the Wrigley's and walked slowly up to the door. If anyone was watching, they wouldn't know it was he and if he chickened out before he reached the porch maybe they wouldn't know.
He pushed the bell with his finger and waited patiently for someone to answer. This was his first visit to the Wrigley household and, although he had heard of the Wrigley Construction Company, he was quite surprised by the pretentiousness of the surroundings.
A sound brought him back to the matter at hand as the door opened a crack and a face appeared in the space.
"Yes?" a voice said and memory came up hitting Leonard square between the eyes. He stared at the face in awed disbelief and then in shocked realization.
"Well?" demanded the face. "What the hell you want, kid?" The voice paused and then came back louder and more demanding. "Well...?"
"I ... I...." Leonard stuttered in confusion and stopped open mouthed. His mission was for-gotton and the knowledge he had heard the voice before beat him back. He stopped, awkwardly aware of what was happening, his eyes moving up and down the figure showing through the narrow opening and what he saw, was not the well groomed, the dark suit, the white shirt or blue polka dot necktie, but a nude figure of a man whose eyes glared down on him, even as these were glaring now, a figure only partially hidden behind a clutched towel which did not, could not, hide the most fascinating thing about the masculine entity.
Leonard lowered his eyes, worked his mouth, shut it and backed away in bewilderment.
The man looked at him again, watched as he turned stumbling from the porch and then pushed the door shut. "Kids!" he said in contempt. "You never know what the fool idiots are going to do.
"Who was at the door?" asked Mrs. Wrigley returning from the bedroom. "Somebody for me?"
"Nobody, Honey ... just some fool kid ... I guess he was lost."
Denise started to rise, opened her mouth to say something and then decided not to do either.
"Were you expecting someone, Denny?" inquired her mother.
"No mother. Not really."
Arthur Wrigley pulled his tie tight at the throat and straightened the pin which held it to the front of his shirt. The Playmate in the gatefold had been very enticing and he felt a sudden urge to go looking for something. He looked at his reflection in the hall mirror and mentally figured the time.
"You going somewhere?" inquired Mrs. Wrigley.
"Going down to see a man about one of the contracts. Don't wait up for me. I might be late."
Bunny walked slowly to the door. "Who is it?" she asked.
"It's me," stated the voice. "Art ... hurry up Honey, open up."
Bunny stopped short and bit her lip. "Oh God!" she said under her breath and then aloud. "Can you come back later?"
"Why?" the voice demanded. "I'm busy...."
"Busy! BUSY!!" blurted the voice. "Holy Christ, you got somebody in there?"
"Go away," repeated Bunny, " ... it's getting late."
"Hell! I've been here this late before. Come on, open up."
"I am busy," insisted Bunny. "Come back later."
"Jesus Christ, you HAVE got somebody in there!"
"Please, go away, I'll see you tomorrow."
The voice was becoming harsh with irritation. "Are you banging somebody else in there, Bunny?"
Bunny Harris flinched and clutched nervously at the negligee. "Do you mean am I having intercourse with another man?"
The voice grew louder and the door knob rattled. "I mean, are you fucking some bastard in there. ARE YOU?"
"No, I'm not," she replied.
The door knob rattled again. "You are! God Damn you sure are! And on my new bed!"
"I AM NOT!" Bunny said firmly.
"Then open the door," ordered the voice. "I want in."
"I promise ... I'll see you tomorrow ... if you'll just go away."
"My ass!" snapped Mr. Wrigley. "You'll see me tonight! ... If you don't open this door, I'll break it down!"
Rump Cunicheck stirred uneasily in his chair. Up to now he had been tongue tied. Following Bunny Harris to the door, he had found it restful and quieting to sit down until the matter of the door opening had been settled. Now he decided to intervene and take command of the situation. He took a position behind Miss Harris where he hoped he could be heard without raising his voice. "I demand you go away," he stated in his most official voice. "Go away and leave us alone."
"Like hell I will!" retorted Mr. Wrigley through the door and it rattled under his pressure.
Rump Cunicheck stared blankly at the door which separated him from the caller. The voice continued to come through the paneling.
"You either let me in or I WILL BREAK IT DOWN!" stormed Mr. Wrigley. "I'm not paying her rent so she can ding-a-ling every kook she meets." He paused for a moment for his threat to sink in, there was more shaking of the knob and then, "I'll break it down for sure...."
Bunny Harris looked at the sergeant. She was flustered, confused, and even a bit frightened. The threats from the other side of the door were taking on a very ungentlemanly flavor and some of the words were very poorly chosen.
"Stop right there!" ordered the sergeant. "We are opening the door." He reached around the girl, turned the latch and pulled the door open.
"Who the hell are you?" demanded Mr. Wrigley drawing himself up to administrative stature and trying to wilt the sergeant.
"I might ask the same of you, Sir!" stated Mr. Cunicheck.
"That's my girl you are with."
"I beg to differ with you, Sir!" retorted the sergeant. "Miss Harris is a free agent."
"If you aren't out of here by the time I count three I'll make a free agent out of you."
Rump Cunicheck was getting nervous. This man was getting belligerent and he didn't know how far he should go. Having a free-for-all in the hall of the apartment building wasn't his idea of being discreet. Having one's name in the papers because of a triangle brawl wasn't exactly the best way to keep harmony at home.
"Cool it, Mister!" he said drawing himself to his best police configuration, "I'm a police officer!"
Arthur Wrigley wasn't to be squelched so easily. "Look here Buster!" he demanded, "What you doing with my girl?"
"I'm not doing anything and she's not your girl." The sergeant was becoming more than ruffled, he was getting down right mad and was having difficulty holding himself in check. He didn't like the way Arthur Wrigley was staring at Bunny and the dirty smirk which was now on his face because of the girls skimpy attire, but getting into a fight with a private citizen over the favors of a girl was not the best way to remain in the good graces of the force. The thought of the Inspector and what he might say kept his temper cooled. He could almost see the headlines that such a display of temper might bring. 'Local Police Sergeant involved in brawl over call girl!' He knew what the Captain would think of it. He would probably end up on a beat out in the sticks, if not laughed off the Force altogether, not to say the least, of what his wife, Margarite, would say.
He groaned inwardly, forced himself to full height, and faced the intruder. "I suggest you go away and leave us alone," he said, using the tone he usually reserved for drunks. "The young lady doesn't want to see you."
"If you don't get the hell out of here," threatened Mr. Wrigley, " ... I will throw you out!"
"In that case," explained the sergeant, " ... I shall have to haul you in for creating a disturbance, threatening an officer and molesting this young lady."
Arthur Wrigley was visibly shaken by the announcement and froze.
"If you want to go for seconds...." he offered, " ... I'll have you hauled into court to face a charge of adultery. How would you like that?"
Mr. Wrigley shrunk by two inches. "Huh! ... Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Sergeant Cunicheck of the Police Department. Now I suggest you leave us alone so we can finish our drink."
Arthur Wrigley stared at the flimsy peignoir and the outline of what was underneath. "Yeah," he agreed, " ... to your drink," then he turned abruptly and disappeared down the hall.
Behind the sergeant, Miss Harris was crying softly. Life had just dealt her the wrong card and something told her that from now on things were going to be a little bit rougher.
"Good night, Rump," she said wiping her eyes. "I'm awful tired. I want to go to bed ... hope you don't mind."
"Sure Kitten," sighed the sergeant. Rotten luck! Just when things were going so well.
The phone rang. Denise raced her mother for it, almost slipping on the hall throwrug in her haste. She hoped it was Lenny. It was Guido. Denise's reaction to Guido's request to see her was at first reluctant, then acquiescent.
"Well ... all right, I guess. Mother's going out for a while, so O.K." As she hung up, Denise vaguely regretted the intrusion. After all, she had almost screwed up the courage to tell Lenny he was going to be a father. Now that would have to wait. She decided to jump in the shower and change before Guido arrived.
She barely made it. When the doorbell rang, she was just finishing straightening her hair. Her mother had left already, so she hurried downstairs to let him in.
Guido-always looks nice, she thought-was wearing a particularly sexy pair of tight-fitting jeans and a pull-over shirt that showed-off his chest nicely. Denise took all this in momentarily, subconsciously, not fully aware of the sexual attraction she felt for Guido.
Guido was in a perky-though horny-mood.
"Hi sweetheart!"
"Hi. Come on in and sit down. Want anything to drink?"
"No, thanks. Say, what's the serious face all about? You look pretty glum. Anything wrong?"
"Well, not the kind of thing that...."
Denise walked over to the mantle, picked up the silver lighter and lit her cigarette, nervously undecided whether or not to tell him. To hell with it, she thought-why not?
"Damn it, Guido, I'm pregnant! I found out about it a couple of days ago. I know it's stupid and all, but I'm kinda shook up about it, you know? Anyway, Mom's gotta tell Daddy, and that's the hell of it."
"Who's the father," asked Guido, mildly suspicious that she was about to break the news to him at any moment-and not at all displeased.
"Lenny. And he probably doesn't give a damn and neither should I-but, dammit, I do. I just wish it could've been somebody else."
Guido was smiling, almost craftily, glad she felt nothing for Lenny.
"Maybe it was," he said.
"Was what?"
"Somebody else. When did it happen. I mean, how far along are you?
"About a month I guess. Why?"
"Because I think it was me. At the party."
Denise was surprised, but pleased with the thought. She almost grabbed at it. She wanted it to be true.
"At Lenny's party? But nothing happened, I mean, how could it of been you?"
"Ha! I thought so! You were so bombed out of your mind you didn't even remember. I fucked you."
Denise wasn't shocked, just happy. "You're sure?" she squealed. She ran across the room, and hugged him enthusiastically.
"Oh, Guido, I'm so glad it was you! I can't think of anyone I'd rather...."
"Have screw you? I hope so baby, 'cause there's a hard pecker in these pants just bursting to get into you now-and you won't forget it this time!"
His hand was already up her dress, pulling at her panties, wriggling to get inside her tight warmth. He pulled her off the couch, down onto the rug, not even giving her time to take off her clothes. He stood over her, legs stradding her, looking down at her as he unzipped his fly and took out his huge piece of rock-hard cock. She writhed and moaned at the sight of it. He fingered it, jacking it slowly up and down, letting little driblets of semen drip down the shaft and onto her belly as he talked.
"Baby, you're gonna get all of this up your hole. You're gonna get a load of hot come you'll never forget."
She had unbuttoned her blouse while he stood above her. Her breasts tumbled out invitingly and the sight made him even hotter. He knelt to tongue her breasts, biting them almost viciously, but lovingly, desperately. His finger was working at, delving in, worshipping her pussy.
"Guido," she moaned. "Please. Now. Now." Denise was thoroughly aroused, thoroughly happy. She needed the warmth of this boy, this boy so suddenly turned man. She needed and wanted to feel his hard shaft throbbing through her cunt, wanted to feel his prick digging into her.
Guido pushed the head of his cock against her opening, slightly drunk with the knowledge that this was the first time he'd ever fucked her when she was aware of what he was doing. It thrilled him to know that she had always wanted him, that she loved him, cared for him. It was sure as shit that no one else had. No one. Not even Victor, not really. Victor just let him hang around. Victor really hated him. But Denise! Denise was different. She would do anything he wanted. Anything. The rough talk he'd tried on her hadn't even phased her.
He shoved his ass heavily toward her, almost clumsily, but as he progressed he began to work his buttocks more easily, allowing himself to feel the full thrill of the act, allowing himself to enjoy every moment of being with this wonderful girl.
Suddenly he felt the familiar surge of aching pleasure in his groin, felt the hot semen bursting free, and his hips jerked involuntarily, convulsively. Every ounce of his come shot into her as she reached a climax with him, as her young body writhed on the floor, her buttocks working frantically, her arms holding Guido to her. She moaned as their bodies relaxed.
Guido looked down at her. He knew one thing. This girl was going to be his wife. Whether he'd fathered the baby or not, this girl was going to be his, and the baby would be his too.