from the neighborhood who stopped in nightly on the way home from work for a quick beer. One or two had their wives. The younger men, the ones under thirty, mixed in at the bar, mostly listening. And the smell of smoke and beer mixed in a dark cloud over the room to render a urine-like odor.
'I'll say it nice and slow. No big words to confuse anyone, so listen closely. I said, 'We all bring one female.' Just remember, I didn't specify anything but female…'
They were completely puzzled and he knew it. And he used it to build his ego.
'Look at it this way, gentlemen…' a pause for his ego to watch their intent faces, knowing they hung on every word, '… six guys go to a party and bring six girls. A girl for every guy present, but not necessarily the same girl he brought. As long as we keep in mind that when we get to the party we will not spend the night with the girl we invited… then shit, we can bring anyone. Right?'
Three heads nodded. They knew he had something, but they hadn't caught on to what it was.
'So… one guy brings his ex-girlfriend, or any girl he knows will accept. Another guy brings his cousin and another brings his sister… and so on and so forth.'
'Holy shit!' Ed Cramer looked upset. 'Who'd bring his sister to an orgy?'
'Don't get uptight. I told you it was for the first party. Or maybe the first few. After that my pyramid theory takes over. We tell the girls to bring their friends and pretty soon we ye got a whole new stable.'
CHAPTER TWO
Upon inspection of the store the following morning Thomas I. Dunn, for the first time his friends could remember, expressed delight. Not even the bare walls, desperately in need of new paint, drew any criticism from his sharp tongue. Instead, Tom walked briskly from the front door through the store, into the next room, with his eyes peering over his glasses, and disappeared. They caught up to him in the kitchen, where he had just finished inspecting the bathroom and rear entrance.
'Charlie, old buddy, this is better than I ever dreamed possible. We couldn't find a place like this if we paid a couple of hundred bucks a month.'
'My uncle said we could have it without rent until December. He usually rents it then for the holidays.'
They all agreed that the store was terrific and Charlie Krauss was the hero of the day.
Then with a few more tours of the premises they set out to scrounge the neighborhood for furniture. They hadn't known this much enthusiasm since their early teens. Old chairs and tables were carted off from their basements in an old wagon and a dilapidated baby carriage. They confiscated lamps, knickknacks and ashtrays from their offices, restaurants and bars. The four made a systematic visit to all the cafeterias in the neighborhood and walked off with enough eating utensils, glasses, cups and saucers to serve a small army. And they were having a ball doing it.
The following Friday night, just a week after the germ of an idea began, they had their first party. And by that time no one was surprised at the female guest list. Jay brought Cynthia. Charles brought his seventeen-year-old sister Kay, who was a short fat kid with pimples. Ed brought a cousin, who had a terrific build and pretty face; not to mention a reputation in the neighborhood as being a whore. And Tom Dunn, being an only child and not having any relatives nearby, brought an ex-girlfriend. A tall, thin girl who was easily the homeliest girl in the group. But to add a touch of freshness to the stale group, Tom invited an Italian friend he worked with, who brought a buddy and two mod, good-looking chicks.
As it turned out, the first party was a complete bomb. If it hadn't been for the bowling alley downstairs, they would have sat in complete silence and stared at each other. However, the league was bowling for position that night and just as Tom finished a fast dance with Cynthia, the music ended, Tom and Cynthia bowed, and a loud cheer rang out below. Everyone laughed. Tom told a joke, punctuated by bowling balls crashing into pins and ending with a cheer from downstairs. Everyone laughed. But the party ended without a single couple getting laid, which constituted a failure.
It was especially a bad blow to Charles Krauss, who had put a great deal of faith in Tom's ability to get them laid. A case of hero-worship that had existed for several years was almost shattered. But Tom scolded him for expecting too much from the first party and Charles was content. At twenty-three, he had to believe in someone or he'd die a virgin, if you didn't count his sister.
The standards of this German neighborhood – a section of Queens County, New York – were very strict. Any display of affection in public was out of the question. Dating was only for those getting married. Sex – God forbid – was only for married people who were trying to have children. And there were many, many rules governing the conduct of young people – anyone under thirty.
Then, keeping this in mind at all times, everyone but the old ladies who watched suspiciously from their windows set out to break the rules without getting caught. Incest was the most popular way out. A forty-year-old man, whose wife was now fat and unattractive, found new delights with his daughter. Brothers and sisters just carried their childhood games into their teens. And everyone suffered from guilt complexes, but never let it interfere with their fun.
Still disappointed with the party, Charles turned down an invitation to join Tom, Ed and Jay at the corner bar. Instead he took Kay home. But rather than going upstairs to their apartment, where their parents would be sleeping by now, Charles gave Kay a gentle nudge in the direction of the basement stairs. She followed his lead, down steep, creaking wooden stairs to the damp basement and back to a storage-bin in the rear. A small light barely lit the cubicle, but as soon as it was turned on Charles retraced his steps and unscrewed the bulbs in the other sockets so no one could see them from outside.
'It wasn't a bad party,' Kay whispered.
'I guess so,' Charles sighed moodily.
'Tommy sure was funny.'
'Yeah. He sure was.'
Charles opened the buttons on his sister's blouse, then unhooked her bra. Kay quickly slipped them off. Desperately trying to work up some enthusiasm, he caressed one of her big tits and watched the nipple grow hard. He bent over and kissed the nipple, sucked on it, and finally bit it gently. Then, disappointed because it didn't arouse him, he let go.
Kay sensed his lack of enthusiasm and tried to give him a spark of life. She opened his zipper, slid her chubby hand into his shorts and started to play with the limp cock. It remained limp. Even while he removed her panties and squeezed her ass the limp noodle remained uninterested. She tried harder.
'Want me to bury it between my tits?' she asked.
'No, not really,' he answered in a bored tone.
Kay felt frustrated. She jerked the rubbery tube and nothing happened. She bent down and kissed it, her big eyes looking up into his for approval, but still no signs of appreciation, and now she was out of ideas. Men weren't suppose to be limp, she told herself in defense of her pride. But the sight of his cock churned up the juices in her own sex box and she was curious about the male apparatus anyway. Usually her brother was jamming it into her mouth, cunt or ass and she never got to examine it like this. She decided on the spot that it was 'cute' when it was soft and wrinkled; no big veins popping out and no puffing head dribbling cream, she reasoned.
Since Charles was just standing their doing nothing, she proceeded to give him an examination. She took the soft meat in her hand and closed a tight fist over it for protection and warmth, lifted it and gazed at the wrinkled prunes dangling from the base… cupped them in her other hand and squeezed gently. Then, starting at the tip of his cock, she ran the tip of her tongue down the shaft to his balls and back up again. Charles spread his legs wide apart for her and she used her pink tongue, letting it lounge around his hot and swollen balls, licking and sipping with those pouty red lips of hers. Then she slid the bottom of her tongue back down over the bottom of his heat, feathering it, before her lips formed into a hot, moist circle to clamp firmly around the pulsing head, sucking on it and nursing it wetly.
The oiled and steaming spear slid far back in her mouth, into the slowly gulping throat, and she used those muscles to milk it, swallow on it, draw at it.
Her head was bobbing on it and little animal-lust moans were slipping out of her, along with saliva that ran down over his balls and nestled in the crack just behind. Her eyelids fluttered and her tongue washed in circles up
