Jack lay on the bed in the darkness of the motel room while he listened to the shower. He chain-smoked and drank scotch straight from the bottle, no chaser. Again he was tempted to go to the closet and get out the black valise and count the cash, the beautiful stacks of hundreds and fifties and twenties, the green mountains of heaven. There was forty-two thousand, six hundred and eighty bucks there.
And three more nerve-screaming days to go.
He could split now with what he had, screw Sally and Carol both. It served them right, the treacherous bitches. Then they'd both turned on him and the mob would be on his tail in hours. The thought squeezed cold drops of sweat from his skin. All he had to do was hang in a few more days, that's all.
But what clawed at his frayed nerves more than anything, more in fact than Lane's frightening eyes, was Sally. He wasn't worried about the blonde, he had her heart locked up in a mortal bind. He knew it from cunning and long experience both. No matter what she said she'd do, she loved him. It glowed in her eyes, radiated from her touch, surrounded her like an aura. He'd taken her cherry and saved her from a life of dull loneliness and misery and she was madly, insanely in love with him. He was positive about that.
But that crazy bitch Sally could only measure it by fucking. He had to come through every morning, no matter how strenuously he'd swung with Carol at night, had to get his raw chafed prick up for heavy action and plunge it deeply and tirelessly into her greedy, silken cunt until she came. And sometimes it took her jaded pussy a half-hour to come. Christ, he could fuck himself to death before he ever got a chance to spend a penny of the hundred thou.
The shower went off. He gulped more scotch and lit another cigarette. Maybe he could stall Carol on the fucking issue. Yeah! Tell her he was too tired, his nerves shot from tension. That way he could save it for Sally.
Ho, h, ho, a voice in his mind mocked him. The voice knew bullshit from conviction and although the sleek hustler did not recognize the voice as such, any psychiatrist would have called it the voice of truth, or harsh reality. You could con scores of women, a hundred broads, but in the long run you couldn't con yourself and that was what mocked him.
The bathroom door opened and he looked at Carol's silhouette. And in spite of his jarred nerves and his physical fatigue, his prick began a sharp throbbing rise. Holy shit, she looked sexy! The fifteen pounds she'd taken off left her naked body gorgeously curved. Her creamy tits thrust out proudly above a narrow waist, her ripe ass and softly glowing thighs pulled at his thick rod like a powerful magnet.
She came over to the bed and lay beside him, her warm fingers going to his semi-erection. She lay on top of him and kissed him with such fierce passion he could barely breathe, and she rubbed her moist cunt to his hot meat, getting it fully hard and surging in seconds.
What followed was eerie, totally silent sex.
Panting, her silky swollen tits digging into his chest, Carol slid his prick into her tight juicy slit and began fucking him with slow, dreamy swings of her hips, her luscious cunt oozing honey onto his crotch, her fiery tongue searching his mouth, her fingers gripping his face passionately.
Jack felt funny being on the bottom but he was tremendously excited too, because she was doing all the work, controlling her own orgasms. Deep animal moans came from her throat as she pumped her slippery pussy with furious lunges on his throbbing cock, hugging it frantically in her blazing flesh, her ripe tits sweating now as they crushed his chest, the moans becoming muffled screams as a violent climax exploded in her gorged cunt, as his knob battered her wet depths. She fucked him with wanton passion for almost thirty minutes, orgasm after hot orgasm sweeping through her trembling flesh, always seeming to sense when he might come and deliberately slowing down so he wouldn't.
And it was eerie because neither of them said a word – just her profound moans of lust and his groans and grunts and the slapping of wet flesh. Like being in a whorehouse, Jack thought with a shock as she gyrated her soaked cunt on his bush and raked his shoulders with sharp nails, only not him in a whorehouse, but her, the quiet frenzied blonde. She felt like a whore! At last she let him come, whipping her dripping slit up and down on his boiling meat savagely, low screams of obscene release gurgling in her throat.
She climbed off him with a long, shaking sigh. Weird, Jack thought, tilting the bottle to his lips and then lighting a cigarette. Because she wasn't touching him now, just quietly breathing beside him.
He put a hand on her warm flesh. "Hey, baby, you okay? You pissed at me about something?"
She laughed, a musical sound, and turned to him and tenderly stroked his face.
"Of course not, darling," she murmured, her eyes glowing brightly in the darkness. "It's just that I love you so much, Jack. I was thinking about what it's going to be like to be married, that's all."
"You'll dig it," he assured her, stroking her ripe silky ass. "Mrs. Jack Watson. How does that sound, huh?"
She smiled. "Mrs. Jack Watson," he repeated. Her fingers went to his limp rod and formed a hot fist and began jerking.
"Hey, now, wait a minute, honey," he said. "I'm really tired, you know? Rough day at the tables, believe me. We can swing all day and all night once we're married."
"All day and all night," she whispered. She banished her wet mouth across his chest then over his flat hard belly and began kissing his bush, then his inner thighs, then seized his soft prick in her mouth and feverishly started to suck the tingling meat.
"Hey, now, cool it, aaaaaah, okay, that's good – that's good, Carol! MMMMM, shit, I want your mouth, your juicy hot mouth, baby!"
Her soul was in her fiery mouth, her lips and tongue blazing with raw sex as she sucked and nibbled and tongued his fleshy rod, commanding the knot of jism in his loins, drawing it out of him like a brutally irresistible magnet.
Beneath the assault, Jack gasped and fucked her mouth lustfully, not wanting to, cursing himself, but oh shit, her hot lips and whirling tongue, her jerking fingers, her magnetic sex-heat was drawing his cream out of him with intense power, and he clutched her head and fucked deeply into her juicy sucking mouth, groaning and gasping.
"Oh Jesus, Carol! Unnnnf! Luscious mouth – ooooooh! Coming, ah shit commminggg! Whewww!"
She drained him with fierce lips, drained his every lingering drop until he was gasping with fatigue. Then she climbed up next to him, once again strangely silent.
Well, whatever the fuck happened to his legendary stamina? She was getting him off in minutes now, sucking him bone-dry. He tilted the bottle to his lips – liquid energy. She kept playing with his cock, which was beginning to feel like ground sirloin.
"Listen, I'm gonna crash now, okay, baby?" he said. "Got a rough day tomorrow, Carol."
"I understand," she said softly. She leaned over him and again gave him that gleaming, chilling look and then she kissed him tenderly. "Sweet dreams," she whispered.
He went out in seconds, diving into pools of blackness. Then he groaned aloud in his sleep. He was dreaming his poor chafed cock was being sucked off again with ferocious greed and he was stiff, curing himself but unable to control his lust. And then his prick was being hugged by a tight, slippery cunt. It was working on his meat, pumping and jerking and twisting and brutally trying to lure out his cum.
He wanted to cry then because it wasn't a dream, it was Carol at four in the morning, riding his stiff rod furiously like a sex-crazed jockey, gasping and panting with her huge tits bouncing before his eyes, her head reared back in glory and her long golden hair sweeping behind her.
"God's sake!" he cried. "Gimme a break Carol shit I… I… ooooof! Oh Christ easy… aaaaaah! Your cunt… too tight! Easy, wheeewwwww, shit coming again!"
And again she devoured his jism with her greedily sucking cunt, clasping and squeezing it firmly until the last suffering drop surrendered with humility, trickling out in feeble exhaustion. Jack reached for the bottle and swilled desperately. Oh Jesus, he had to face Sally in the morning and she wouldn't take no for an answer, she'd slap it back in his face like a dead fish. Beside him, the blonde now slept peacefully, satisfied, while he lay there in weary anguish, his nerves quivering and his mind tormenting him.
Maybe he could get some Spanish Fly somewhere. Maybe he could con her out of it with some excuse. What excuse? He caught the clap and didn't want to infect her? She'd love that, she'd cut his cock off and fry it like breakfast sausage.
All his life he'd lived off women, scored them with ease and arrogance, hustled them with smooth efficiency and now they were driving him insane with their ravenous lips and insatiable cunts, they were killing him for Chrissake.
He slept fitfully.
Sally had rented an expensive motel room only two blocks away and he made bright comments about it as he stood there, looking haggard in the morning sunlight.
She lay naked on the bed, propped up on pillows, smoking and watching him through narrowed eyes. Any other time and he'd be hot and ready just from the sight of her satiny tits and lush pink cunt and long tapered legs. Now the mere sight of a wet hot pussy made him want to burst into tears.
Has nerves were going fast and he knew it.
"Nov listen, hon," he said persuasively, sitting on the edge of the bed and flashing her his most charming grin, "this is a rough gig, you know what I mean? Knocking off twenty thousand a day, being watched by that bastard Lane, trying to keep the farmer's daughter happy…"
Oops she didn't like that.
"Is she happy, Jack?" Sally asked softly. "Fuck her all night long, stud? Dig that hot country snatch, huh?"
He waved a hand airily. "Nah, we didn't even do anything, Sal, she's all mush and romance, know what I mean?"
Oops! Double oops! If he didn't do anything then he shouldn't have any trouble screwing his wife, right? And that's exactly what her dangerous expression said.
He flushed. "Listen, Sal, honey baby, pussy-cake, I, ah, I sort of lied about that. She wouldn't let go of my dick, know what I mean? Clung like a bloodsucking vampire."
"She raped you," Sally said, her eyes seething. "You poor weak helpless sonofabitch, she pinned you to the wall and raped you. And now you can't get it up?"
"Well, now, you just give me ten minutes and I'll show you what I can do," he bluffed. But the grin on his face felt like cracked plaster. He went over to her dresser and picked up the bottle of gin there and tilted it to his lips and gulped for a long, long time. Synthetic energy. You could bury yourself in a grave of dead bottles and vicious cunts in less than three days at this pace.
But he had no choice.
He stripped, glancing at his raw pink meat. One more time, old buddy, you great old fucking warhorse, he told it. Do your stuff, soldier, this is one battle we gotta win, pal. Let's see a big salute, huh? You wanna get shot for desertion, motherfucker?
Nothing.
He went over to the bed. There was a bowl of candy kisses on the bedside table. Her eyes blazing on his, Sally slowly unwrapped one and parted her thighs wide. She daintily inserted it deeply into her silken cunt.
"Now go get it," she told him ominously. "And don't come up for air until it's melted, buster."
He crawled between her soft thighs and began eating her hot pussy, grateful for the time to get his cock up. Sally gripped his head very tightly in her hands, locked her burning thighs savagely to his cheeks and began fucking his mouth with furious thrusts, of her hips, with rising groans of lust, feeling his tongue lash deep.
"Eat it, you sonofabitch!" she cried, rage mingling with her orgasm. "Eat my cunt, you two-timing prick! Aaaaah! Harder, lick it, suck it, kiss it, deeper, mmmmm!"
He was suffocating now, his face crushed against her boiling crotch, his head in a mortal lock between her searing thighs. Christ, he never knew these beautiful sexy legs had such incredible strength! With maniacal fury her savage thighs and her strong hands were holding his head in a vise. He knew he could strangle him with her crazed cunt – she could really kill him like this. And he couldn't even put up much of a struggle because he'd been fucked half to death by the blonde. Died in battle, killed by a vengeful cunt!
He was having serious trouble breathing, her thrashing slippery cunt-flesh smearing all over his face. He knew his best chance was to make her come a wildly and quickly as he could. He sucked desperately on her swollen clit-bud and probed for her asshole, finding it with a middle finger and he thrust in deeply and wriggled it around, knowing that it got her off.
"Yesss! You cuntsucking two-timing snake, yesss! Uuuljuuungh! Eat your heart out, bastard! Oooooh!"
And he ate, he sucked for his life, lapping and tonguing and frantically wishing his tongue were three inches longer, because in her delirious rage she didn't realize her terrifying strength, especially in her moist thighs. He was beginning to flag from the booze and the screwing and, above all, the nerve-shattering tension at the casino, and he felt like a drowning man must feel, resigning himself to the brutal hand of God, smothered in a valley of crazed pussy-flesh.
She released him, parting her thighs. Jack slowly sat up, his breath rasping in great heaves for air.
"Now fuck!" Sally commanded. She turned over on her belly and folded her knees under herself, with her gorgeous naked ass hovering in the air. "Fuck me dog-style, because I don't want to see your face. Fuck!"
Wearily, he knelt upright behind her lush ass, those velvety mounds that had turned him on so delightfully in the past now bringing a wave of nausea to his stomach. He was about to tell her he wasn't even stiff yet, just valiantly quivering, but he knew it was useless. He dipped two fingers into her luscious slit and finger-fucked her for a minute, shoving his thumb into her puckered asshole to divert her.
"Unnnnnf!" she panted, swinging her hips in response and clasping his fingers greedily. "Use your… aaaah! You use your prick, damnit!"
Jack was relieved as he saw it was hard, but it was a painful, forced hard-on, the kind squares complained about at the end of a two-week honeymoon. Some fucking honeymoon! He slipped his fingers out of her tight pussy – he often wondered how she kept it so tight after all the action it had seen – and slid his meat in, wincing as she gripped it fiercely between her walls.
He began fucking her with weary strokes, oblivious to the juicy heat and slippery hot thrills at first but if Sally had her flaws – like a slight touch of raving insane jealousy – she was still the greatest piece of ass in the world, and his huge prick responded with a will of its own, plunging faster and faster into her luscious slit.
"Oh hit, Sal, you're still… UNH! You're still the wildest, baby! Ooooo, your beautiful cunt! Mmmmm!"
And it was beautiful, throbbing and twisting and shuddering expertly as Sally worked it to feel his massive dick in every nook and cranny of her tingling cunt, climaxing in spite of her rage, slamming her naked ass back with a loud slap each time he plunged.
"Oh God, you bastard," she panted, "I hate you but oh Jesus how I love that prick! Ooooo, Jack, honey, I'm… I'm getting my rocks off, aaaaagh! Oh crazy cock!"
Fucking was what held them welded so securely together in spite of vicious fights and screwing around and constant bickering. They got off on each other, loved to fuck each other above anyone and everyone else, a strange perfect chemical bond, a marriage of lust. Deep inside her Sally knew she really loved the treacherous bastard and that in his grasping, endlessly hustling way he loved her, a profound sexual love that bypassed everything else.
They came together and afterward Jack staggered to the dresser, got the bottle of gin and collapsed on the bed with it.
"How much have we got now?" she asked him. The melted candy kiss felt sticky and pleasurable deep in her pussy, where his cock had forced it.
He told her. She nodded, feeling the urge to get out now, feeling that something would go drastically wrong. Just nerves, she told herself. She too was becoming hooked on the terrific ease with which they took bundles of fifties and hundreds every night. At first she'd insisted on keeping her own earnings in her own motel room, just in case he did try to double-cross her. But some perverse feminine instinct inside her, alien to her hardness, gave in to his arguments. It was her way of showing him that no matter what he did they were welded together, that in a showdown she would trust him. So each night she passed him her take.
Besides, he knew what would happen if he did double-cross her.
He rested and swilled gin for another hour and then left for the casino. Oh God, his cock was killing him, throbbing with raw hurt, his bones sore everywhere. They were sucking him literally dry of his juices. He felt close to a wheelchair, growing suddenly old thirty years before his time. They didn't just fuck him, he thought angrily, they were wolves sucking at his blood, demanding his jism on schedule, raping his poor rod with mad fingers and lips and pussies, even in his sleep. A man couldn't rest for all this crazy cunt. He'd almost been strangled by one a little while go, literally smothered to death by an insane pussy.
Jack stumbled down the street to the casino, exhausted, his mind whirling, his muscles aching, only the liquor holding him up. He felt as if there were a bleeding mass of tissue, a festering wound where his loins used to be.
This, he decided as he blinked his eyes in the harsh bright sunlight, must be the hell they were talking about in the bible. When he went to hell – and he wasn't kidding himself about the outcome – shit, you couldn't con forever – he would be greeted by a squirming sea of crazed cunt, smearing his face, clawing at his cock, strangling him with no rest, viciously sucking his come out of his balls and the marrow out of his bones and the brain out of his skull. Pink hot ravenous pussy everywhere, grinding up his meat, and his body into soggy mush.
Maybe, Jack thought as he swung open the doors and went into the air-conditioned casino, the… Devil was gay and he'd get a break…
And that was just the beginning of Day Three.