«Give it to him, will you,» I said, «I'll return it to you when we get home.»
«
Stanley turned his back and walked off. He had the loping gait of a cowboy. Even from the back he looked like a thug.
«The dirty bastard!» mumbled Curley. «I could stick a knife in him.»
«I almost hate him myself,» said I. «He'll wither and die before he softens. I don't know why he's doing this for me—it's not like him.»
«How do you know what he's going to do? How can you trust a guy like that?»
«Curley,» I said, «he wants to do me a favor. Something tells me it's going to be unpleasant, but I don't see any other way out. You're just a kid. You don't know what it's all about. I feel relieved somehow. It's a turn in the road.»
«Reminds me of my father,» said Curley bitterly. «I hate him, hate his guts. I'd like to see the two of them hanging from the same post: I'd like to burn them up, the dirty bastards.»
A few days later I was sitting in Ulric's studio waiting for Mara to arrive with her friend Lola Jackson. Ulric had never met Mara.
«You think she's good stuff, eh?» he was saying, meaning Lola. «We won't have to stand on too much ceremony, what?»
These feelers which Ulric always put out amused me highly. He liked to be guaranteed that the evening would not be entirely wasted. He was never certain of me when it came to women or friends; in his humble opinion I was just a wee bit too reckless.
However, the moment he laid eyes on them he felt reassured. In fact, he was bowled over. He took me aside almost at once to congratulate me on my taste.
Lola Jackson was a queer girl. She had only one defect—the knowledge that she was not pure white. That made her rather difficult to handle, at least in the preliminary stages. A little too intent upon impressing us with her culture and breeding. After a couple of drinks she unlimbered enough to show us how supple her body was. Her dress was too long for some of the stunts she was eager to demonstrate. We suggested that she take it off, which she did, revealing a stunning figure which showed to advantage in a pair of sheer silk hose, a brassiere and pale blue panties. Mara decided to follow suit. Presently we urged them to dispense with the brassieres. There was a huge divan on which the four of us huddled in a promiscuous embrace. We turned the lights down and put on a record. Lola thought it too warm to keep anything on except the silk stockings.
We had about a square yard of space in which to dance flesh to flesh. Just as we had changed partners, just as the tip of my cock had buried itself in Lola's dark petals, the phone rang. It was Hymie Laubscher telling me in a grave and urgent voice that the messengers had declared a strike. «You'd better be on hand early to-morrow morning, H. M.,» he said. «No telling what will happen. I wouldn't have bothered you if it hadn't been for Spivak. He's on your trail. He says you ought to have known that the boys were going on strike. He's hired a fleet of taxi cabs already. There's going to be hell to-morrow.»
«Don't let him know you got in touch with me,» I said. «I'll be there bright and early.»
«I'm afraid not, Hymie. If you're looking for something I can recommend you one up at I. Q. office—you know, the one with the big teats. She goes off duty at midnight.»
Hymie was trying to tell me something about his wife's operation. I couldn't make it out because Lola had slipped up alongside me and was petting my cock. I hung up in the midst of it and pretended to explain to Lola what the message was about. I knew Mara would be on my heels in a moment.
I had just gotten it half way in, Lola's back bent almost in half, and still talking about the messenger boys, when I heard Ulric and Mara stirring. I pulled away and picking up the phone I called a number at random. To my astonishment a woman's voice answered sleepily—«Is that you, dear? I've just been dreaming about you.» I said Yes? She went on, as if still half asleep: «Do hurry home, won't you dear? I've been waiting and waiting. Tell me you love me...»
«I'll make it as quick as I can,
«I said rush a few waybills up to D.T. office and ask Costigan to...» The phone clicked.
The three of them were lying on the divan. I could smell them in the dark. «I hope you don't have to go,» said Ulric in a smothered voice. Lola was lying over him, her arms around his neck. I reached between her legs and caught hold of Ulric's pecker. I was on my knees, hi a good position to tackle Lola from the rear should Mara suddenly decide to go to the lavatory. Lola raised herself a bit and sank down on Ulric's prick with a savage grunt. Mara was tugging at me. We lay down on the floor beside the divan and went to it. In the midst of it the hall door opened, the light was suddenly switched on, and there stood Ulric's brother with a woman. They were a bit drunk and had apparently returned at an early hour to do a bit of quite fucking on their own.
«Don't let us stop you,» said Ned, standing in the doorway inspecting the scene as if it were an every day affair. Suddenly he pointed to his brother and shouted—«Holy Smokes! What's happened? You're bleeding!»
We all looked at Ulric's bleeding cock; from the navel down to his knees he was a mass of blood. It was rather embarrassing for Lola.
«I'm sorry,» she said, the blood dripping down her thighs, «I didn't think it would be so soon.»
«That's all right,» said Ulric, «what's a little blood between bouts?»
I went with him to the lavatory, pausing a moment on the way to be presented to his brother's girl.
She was pretty far gone. I held out my mitt to shake hands and in reaching for it she accidentally made a pass for my prick. That made everybody feel a little easier.
«A great work-out,» said Ulric, washing himself assiduously. «Do you think I might take another crack at it? I mean, there's no particular harm getting a little blood on the end of your cock, is there? I feel as though I'd like to have another go at it, what say?»
«It's good for the health,» I said cheerily. «Wish I could swap places with you.»»
«I wouldn't be averse to that at all,» said he, sliding his tongue lecherously over his lower lip. «Do you think you can manage it?»
«Not to-night,» I said. «I'm going now. I've got to be fresh and spruce to morrow.»
«Are you going to take Mara with you?»
«I sure am. Tell her to come in here a minute, will you?»
When Mara opened the door I was powdering my cock. We fell into a clutch at once.
«What about trying it in the tub?»
I turned the warm water on and threw in a bar of soap. I soaped her crotch with tingling fingers. By this time my prick was like an electric eel. The warm water felt delicious. I was chewing her lips, her ears, her hair. Her eyes sparkled as if she had been struck by a fistful of stars. Every part of her was smooth and satiny and her breasts were ready to burst. We got out and, letting her straddle me, I sat on the edge of the tub. We were dripping wet. I reached for a towel with one hand and dried her a bit down the front. We lay down on the bath mat and she slung her legs around my neck. I moved her around like one of those legless toys which illustrate the principle of gravity.
Two nights later I was in a depressed mood. I was lying on the couch in the dark, my thoughts shifting rapidly from Mara to the bloody, futile telegraph life. Maude had come over to say something to me and I had made the mistake of running my hand carelessly up her dress as she stood there complaining about something or other. She had walked off insulted. I hadn't been thinking about fucking her—I just did it naturally, like you'd stroke a cat. When she was awake you couldn't touch her that way. She never took a fuck on the wing, as it were. She thought fucking had something to do with love: carnal love, perhaps. A lot of water had passed under the bridge since the days when I first knew her, when I used to twirl her around on the end of my cock sitting on the piano stool. Now she acted like a cook preparing a difficult menu. She would make up her mind deliberately, letting me know in her sly, repressed way that the time had come for it. Maybe that's what she had come for a moment ago, though it was
