there now?'
Harry flicked his cigarette impatiently, slightly disturbed that Phillip was being so cool and complacent.
'It's that time of the year,' he replied. 'They're due there soon.'
Phillip looked sternly at Harry and said, 'You know you'd have to go in heavy, there isn't any other way.'
'So what?' He stood up abruptly, poured himself another drink, and paced around the room several times before saying anything more.
Finally, in a softer and more convincing voice, he said plaintively,
'Listen, we probably won't have to use a gun. I've thought it all out.
Don't you understand? I know exactly how it will come off. Clean and fast. If we…'
'Harry, Harry, don't
Phillip went on persuasively, 'If I have a pistol, legally registered, to protect my modest property, think what must be legally registered under Llewellyn's name, to be used in an emergency as they see fit.
Rather a heavy thought, wouldn't you say? It's ridiculous to consider it.
And unnecessary.'
Carol walked into the room while Phillip was talking. Harry noticed she had changed for the afternoon. She was wearing a pale pink silk dress, shirtwaist in style. The silk clung to her body and fell softly against the inside of her thighs, up high around her pussy.
Harry unconsciously made a gesture of running his hand for a second over his penis. Phillip observed this gesture. Both nodded to her simultaneously and continued talking.
'All that money you've made should have taken away some of that dangerous ambition of yours.'
'You've missed the point, Phillip.'
'My God, Harry, you've got to know when to stop and learn to cool it!'
'Okay, now you want to sit around and look at your paintings, is that it? I can't make it. I can't live that way.'
'Look, I have an idea,' Phillip said reflectively, 'something that may amuse even you. There's no research necessary on this one. But first, you, Carol and I will eat those squabs as … a sort of hors-d'oeuvre. Is that all right with both of you? I'm not being mysterious, mind you. I always believe that things should be done in the best way possible.'
Carol, who had mixed herself a drink and was sitting quietly observing, spoke for the first time. She was not sure of what had ensued, but she knew that things had changed, shifted and would alter even more drastically in the future. She was prepared inwardly for the consequences, for the first time in her life. But like Phillip, she wanted all situations to have some form. Sloppiness destroyed whatever was good to be taken from anything, and for this reason, her approach to life was always with reserve — that is, when conversations were involved.
'First I am most impressed with the fact that you are going to cook us one of your rare specialties. You're really feeling good these days, aren't you Phillip?' She walked across the room and leaned against him, smiling up at his face. Harry was slumped in one of the divans, deep in thought, ignoring both of them. A fire engine careened by, screaming into the night. After the noise came an unreal silence, which awakened Harry. He looked at Phillip and Carol who were immersed in caresses. Not sexy, not just yet, but affectionate. 'Well, you both finally relaxed in front of me.' Harry walked over to them.
'Come here, Harry darling,' Carol said. 'I don't want to see you so distant.'
Phillip put his other arm around Harry. 'Harry, brood no more.' His manner of speech imitated the way certain petty hoods spoke. 'Like I was saying, I got everything all fixed; you won't be bored, just trust Daddy.'
Harry gave him a half smile, then devilishly grabbed his ass. 'All right, this time the show is yours. I promise I'll merely follow my part.'
Carol smiled charmingly at the two of them. 'I suppose it's time for the chef to prepare dinner now,' she hinted to Phillip.
Phillip's eyes were fixed on the silky pink folds of her dress around her belly. His voice replied sardonically, 'Yes, my dear, it's dinner time indeed.' He kicked aside the Persian throw rug they were standing on, revealing the smoothly varnished, blonde parquet floor.
This gesture was like a bell going off in an army barracks, and the sergeant began to give orders. 'Take off your silky skin, Carol, my sweet. I want to feel the silk of your flesh, as an aperitif. You,' he commanded Harry, 'take your fucking finger out of my asshole — only for a moment mind you, and turn off the chandeliers while I light this delightful candelabra for atmosphere. Get to, both of you. Old Phillip gets impatient. Oh yes, Carol, lie down on the floor after you've finished disrobing.'
Harry and Carol followed the orders like puppets. Phillip lighted the elaborate candelabra. His face made diabolic from the candlelight, he was now more of a ballet maestro than an army sergeant. His power continued. 'Harry, don't stay too long on that side of the room. Come back next to me.' Harry walked back to where Phillip was standing in the evil candlelight.
Removing his clothing as he moved toward him, Harry arrived naked at his side. Carol was standing behind them, naked also except for her panties. The shadow of her body enlarged on the bare floor. Harry moved behind Phillip, so that his ass was in front of Carol. Phillip was entirely clothed. Harry stuck his head from the rear of Phillip in between his trouser legs and with his teeth began to unzip Phillip's fly.
Phillip was amused.
As his pants fell, Carol came around to the front of him and started to take off his tie. 'Daddy is really getting too old to undress himself.
Put your hands on my breasts while I'm working, it makes it so much more pleasurable.'
Harry, still crouching, assisted in the most graceful possible way to remove Phillip's pants. Then he put his head back under Phillip's balls.
The circles of flesh were tight and hard, like those of an athlete. Yes, Phillip had preserved everything. Harry moved his neck slowly from side to side underneath the testicles. Each time Phillip's prick rose hard and heavy. Then it fell like a hand caressing the back of his neck.
When Carol had finished undressing him, she stood flat against his body, his hands over her ass now, her hands moving tenderly up his sides into his armpits. Simultaneously Harry and Phillip began to talk.
'I want to eat you, Carol,' said Harry.
'Why aren't you naked?' Phillip asked heavily. He pulled away from them and stood like a commanding general, the muscles of his body taut and expanded as though he were about to lift iron weights.
His cock stood firm and large, like a lance.
Carol looked at him expressionless, not answering. Harry watched Phillip, though his head was lowered like someone ready to kick off a football. Nobody spoke.
'Well,' Phillip demanded of Carol, 'why aren't they off? Surely at this point you're not ashamed?'
'Ashamed of what, Phillip? Taking off my pants, you mean?' She threw the question back to him.
'Your cunt, you bitch.' He came toward her fiercely, repeating,
'Your cunt, your cunt.'
'Since when did you become a bitch?' he yelled as he tore her panties off. Harry watched stupefied. 'It couldn't be that you don't want Harry to know.'
Carol looked terror-stricken at him. As her panties dropped, she fell to the floor and flung her arms around Phillip's ankles. She began to sob. The smooth wooden coolness of the floor refreshed her body.
This is what a grave must feel like, she thought.
Harry moved for the first time. He did not know what was happening. Perhaps something a bit too personal to be made clear to an outsider. Maybe he would find out, but not now. Now all he saw was her beautifully rounded ass staring up into the candlelight, and her legs parted ever so slightly. He imagined how her pussy must feel next to the sweating hardness of the floor.
'I want it next to me,' he thought. 'I'll figure out the riddle later.'
He moved as fast as a gun fighter over to her. Moved up easily behind her, he ignored Phillip, who glared down on them. She was still sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking in hysteria.
