“Could be done, I suppose… could be done…”
“What can you tell me?” Cesare demanded. “It's very urgent.”
The old man considered, glancing around the tavern with eyes that seemed to have awakened completely from the half-stupor of liquor.
“Don't know as I ought,” he said. “Don't sound legal to me?what you're up to.”
“I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself,” Cesare snapped. “I'll make it worth your while to give me any useful information.”
“How worth.”
Cesare opened a pouch on his belt and threw some gold pieces on the table. The man's eyes glistened and he stared, fascinated, at the money. He put out his hand to pick them up and Cesare's hand closed on his wrist with a force which made him start.
“Not before you tell me what you have to say.”
The man stared at him. He was beginning to wonder with whom he was dealing. There was an authority about the stranger which, even in this familiar seaman's bar where every strong arm would be with him, made his spirit yield. “All right. Take them off the table.” Cesare grinned and swept the pieces off the table and onto the wooden bench between them.
“She's a ship-owner's widow,” the seaman explained. “Lives just on the outskirts o' the town. They say she likes a 'andsome man though she's nothin' to look at 'erself. There was some young duke came through here three year ago with a price on 'is head. 'E went and offered isself to her for work on one of 'er ships and she told him he could 'ave a job if he was nice to 'er.” The old man laughed coarsely. “Least thats 'ow the tale goes. Ain't nothin' can 'appen in a place like this without folks get to know about it afore long.”
“Where can this woman be found?”
But the old man had warmed to the lechery of his story.
“They do say she's real frustrated?her husband been dead for six year and none as she thinks are suitable as'll have 'er. They do say
…” he grinned lasciviously… “as she likes a little tickle with a rope afore she has 'er cranny stuffed.”
He guffawed suddenly in a tone which made the nearest people turn towards him and then grin before resuming their own conversation.
“But o' course if you was goin' to pay, anyway, you probably wouldn' 'ave to pander to 'er every whim.”
“Where can this woman be found?enough of your prattle!”
The seaman sobered down although his eyes were still alight with mirth at his humor. He picked up the golden pieces and slipped them quickly into a pocket as if he were afraid to be seen looking at them.
“For another such, I'll show ye.”
“Right, but quick about it.”
They left the inn and ambled at a pace which exasperated Cesare, through the narrow streets near the seashore. At last the man pointed out a large house on the corner of a narrow street, with a porch and steps over which shone a lantern.
“There?an' I hope you'm feelin fit and 'earty.”
Cesare caught him by the arm and held it with a grip which made the old man wince.
“Not a word about this to anyone,” he said, knowing that his words were probably useless. “I have men here and if you start shouting this around it'll be the worse for you.”
There was real startled fear in the old man's eyes.
“Aye, aye, sir,” he said. “I wouldn' want 'em to know as I'd got rich, anyway.”
He ambled off into the darkness and Cesare knocked at the door of the big house. Shortly Cesare was being ushered by one of what seemed to be many servants into the presence of the mistress of the house.
After he had explained his business, the woman relapsed into thought, toying with a cushion. He judged her to be about sixty or a little under. She had a commanding face and had probably once been quite beautiful. But now she had grown stout and flabby and the skin hung on her fingers like plain rings.
After a while she looked up at him, lightly studying his face and figure.
“It is a risky thing you're asking,” she said.
“I'm offering a good price.”
“But I'm not poor. I'm not in great need of money so your price isn't all that interesting to me.”
So the town gossip was true. How impossible these small towns were. He decided to make things easy for her.
“But what else can I offer, my dear madam?”
She smiled and stood up. She began to move slowly around the lighted room as if thinking. She stopped in front of a painting, small painting above a grate where a log fire was burning low. He watched her, her stout bottom and belly rustling in her skirts.
“This is a picture of my husband,” she said, staring at it.
Cesare moved across the room and stood beside her and just a little behind.
“A good-looking man.”
“Yes, he had many virtues and I miss him? particularly in bed.”
Cesare smiled. So she was going to brazen it. She didn't look at him. She had crossed the bounds of decorum and was waiting with bated breath to see how he reacted.
“I'm sure the loss is more his.”
“Ah, you mustn't say such blasphemy,” she said?but quite disarmed at his reply.
She moved away again, leaving him standing beside the portrait. When she turned, her eyes dropped to his loins and then rose to meet his.
“I long for people to take his place?just for a while,” she said in a tone which, Cesare was surprised to find, made him feel rather sorry for her.
“Madam, there can be few could resist such an open-hearted admission from such a fine woman as yourself.”
“Oh tush!” But she smiled again and moved toward him. “A beautiful person like yourself has no need of elderly women but…” she hesitated… “that is my price.”
“My dear lady you overestimate me. You offer me delight and disparage yourself at the same time.”
She was pleased with his gallantry even if she hardly believed it. She came toward him and put her hands on his shoulders, her head against his breast as he pressed her body into his.
That it should come to this, Cesare thought with a sardonic humor. But bargainers can't be choosers.
“My husband was so good because he knew my quirks,” she said softly, rubbing her loins gently against his, so that in spite of his reservations he found his prick responding.
“Your quirks?you like to be excited in some?abnormal?manner?”
Gallantly he helped her, saving her embarrassment. Besides he was in a hurry.
“Yes?he used to whip me. But I no longer have the whip and, besides, now that I'm a little older, I prefer the more intimate touch of the hand and then perhaps a few strokes from a cane I keep in my boudoir.”
Better get it going, Cesare decided. He pushed his hips back at hers and tried to get his hands around her big buttocks. She looked up at him with her mouth open and he lowered his face onto hers as if going into a dungeon. Her skin was rather dry under her powder but she had kept herself well and he was surprised at the keenness of passion with which she responded.
“I'll send the servants to their quarters,” she whispered.
She disappeared for several minutes and when she was once again in the doorway, he saw she was dressed in a silk gown which hid her stout flabbiness and gave a certain silken luster to her appearance.
She beckoned and he followed. She led him up a flight of stairs and into a tasteful boudoir with a large bed to one side on which was a long, whippy cane.
“Will you undress?” she pleaded.
He began to slip out of his clothes and she watched as if she would eat his body. When he stood in front of her, naked and with his upstanding penis rearing toward her, he could hear the rustle of the gown where she was trembling. She stared at his body in admiration and desire.
“So young?so strong,” she whispered.
She came over to him, opened her gown and enclosed them both in it, crushing against him. He could feel the
