The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5 (64 page)

BOOK: The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5
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“Yeah, you want it just like the girl in the play. I’ll take you off this island, cunt. I’ll take you back to New York with me, and make you audition for a pimp, and he’ll make you fuck and suck every greasy cock in sight.”

“Oh, God, please.”

“And, when he’s satisfied that you’re a filthy fuck bucket I’ll sell you to him, and you’ll have to fuck for a living, every day, constantly fucked in the ass, fucked in the cunt, fucked in the mouth . . .”

Dodie shrieked and her muscles grabbed my cock like a fist. Jesus, it hurt. Her whole body shuddered as her head thrashed. I tried to pull out but couldn’t.

“Christ! Let go!”

Warm liquid ran down our thighs. Dodie relaxed and I drew my cock out of her ass, but the friction did the trick. My dick jerked up like a spring board and spewed jets of come between her ass crack.

“Mother of God,” I gasped, and fell backward onto the floor.

Dodie remained slumped against the recliner. Then she stirred.

“Oh, my – I never came so hard or so fast. My poor asshole. You bad, bad man.”

I got to my feet, and lifted her to her own. I marched her to the bathroom and we stepped into the shower. I soaped her until I worked up a cloak of suds from her shoulders to her ass. My dick was hard again. I slapped it against her thigh and ordered, “Clean it.”

She knelt and began to work her soapy hands around it, occasionally rubbing it against her cheek. Then she began to play with my balls, working up a lather. I leaned into the spray and let it rinse the soap away. She took my cock into her mouth. Her tongue teased the tip, while her fingers skillfully played along its length.

It plopped from her lips just long enough for her to plead, “Come in my mouth. Aren’t I a good cocksucker?”

“Oh, yeah, Cupcake. You’re the best.”

“Tell me,” she mewed.

“Cocksucker – dicklicker – come guzzler.”

She sucked me with a mission, while her fingers worked her pussy. I was getting close when she began to hum. I launched my load into her throat. Her shoulders shuddered. Then she held me in her mouth until my dick deflated and slipped from her lips.

I turned off the water, toweled her, then myself. Then I carried her into the bedroom. It was early yet; the sky hadn’t even begun to lighten.

Dodie was the battery bunny when it came to sex, she just kept going and going . . . And I was getting punchy. Doggie-fucking her, I wove an elaborate gang-rape fantasy for her involving the Fall River City Council. It was time for a break.

I dozed, but she continued to play with my dick. I was content to lie passive and drained.

“Rick – give me a baby.”

Jesus! I bolted into a sit. “What?”

“Bink and I have been married almost six years and I’m not pregnant. That’s a long time; the family expects children. I’m worried.”

I understood. Dodie wasn’t saying she was worried either she or Bink weren’t capable of producing another generation of Walkers, she was afraid if it didn’t happen soon Walker would be under pressure to quietly divorce her. That cut her out of the Walker fortune. Not that she’d starve – Dodie’s family was well-off by any normal standards, just nowhere near the Walkers.

“Is there a problem with Bink?”

“No, he just won’t let me get off the pill. He doesn’t want me to get pregnant by someone else.”

I was beginning to understand the depths of Bink’s need to farm out his pretty little wife.

“Cupcake, has it ever occurred to either of you how this hobby of his could – backfire?”

“It has.”

“Huh? How?”

“A couple of years ago we stayed in Jamaica. Bink offered me to a young man who worked at the resort. He was particularly excited about watching us because – well – he was black, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He was wonderful,” she sighed. “He made me beg him ’till I cried. Then he told Bink to play with his ‘Willy’ while he fucked me ‘proper.’ I just love Jamaican accents.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, when we were leaving, Ethan told Bink that maybe someday he’d come up to the States and claim me for his whore. I just about wet my panties, but we never gave it much thought, until . . .”

“Don’t tell me.”

“Yup, about eight months later Bink got a call at home and turned so pale. It was Ethan, he was in New York with his family and he was planning to visit us. Can you imagine? He said he would claim his pretty white whore, or Bink could pay him for me. Can you imagine poor Bink having to buy his own wife?”

“No shit.”

“Bink didn’t know what to do. What would our neighbors in Weston think if a Jamaican man showed up demanding his white whore?” She giggled.

“So, what happened?”

“Bink ran to Bradley for help. They grew up together, you know. Bink always turned to Bradley like a big brother. Bradley took care of things.”

“Did he pay the guy off?”

“No. You know Bones, of course.”

“He had Bones talk to the kid?”

“Never bothered us again. I felt kind of badly for Ethan. He had a wonderful cock.”

So Bones was still doing favors for them, or paying them back. I was pondering this when I thought I heard the tinkle of ice in a glass. Dodie heard it too and sat up with a start.

“Stay here,” I said.

I wrapped a towel around my naked ass and tiptoed to the door, then down the narrow hall to where it opened into the living room. I heard hushed voices.

Then I saw the Valkyrie. She was handing a glass of liquor to Ashton, who was ensconced on the cheap lounger.

“Just make yourself at home.”

He raised his glass. “Love what you’ve done to the place.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Hmm, then perhaps your erstwhile employer. I see he maintained the chic décor à la Kmart. It evokes memories of the Daugherty couple – lovely old folks. I knew they’d sell it eventually, and piss off all my distant cousins. Care for a drink? I brought a variety of spirits.”

I sat on the recliner. “Sure. Rum and soda.”

“Lime?” asked Gretchen.

“Um – yeah.”

She held out a bottle of Dark Jamaican as if for my approval. I took it, nodded and handed it back to her. She poured it into a glass filled with cubes.

“Well, sir,” Ashton grinned. “I had hoped to return to this pathetic leftover from the Ice Age and cause such appalling consternation among my peers. But, it seems you’ve already put a bug up this island’s rocky ass.”

“Hmm, people around here have a tendency to turn on you rather quickly if your fortunes fall.”

“Oh, don’t they? Bad form, very bad form. But, like the scorpion, it’s their nature.”

A tiny voice from the bedroom called, “Rick?”

Ashton perked up. “Dorothy? Is that you, darling? How lovely. Come greet your Uncle Ashton.”

Dodie peeked around the corner. “Oh, my God. Ashton – please don’t tell Bradley.”

Ashton cackled. “Bradley? Not your husband? Ah, but I suppose we all understand who the über-wolf is on the island. Not to worry, child. I’ll not tell. I’m just delighted to see you. But the gentleman and I need to discuss some business.”

Ashton gestured to the Valkyrie. “Gretchen, see to Mrs Walker.”

Gretchen nodded and stepped over to Dodie. She towered over her the way Bradley towered over me. She took her arm gently but firmly and turned her back toward the bedroom.

Dodie meekly protested, but went along.

“Gretchen is a treasure,” Ashton smirked. “Speaks seven languages, highly intelligent, impeccably educated – the product of an exclusive academy known to only a few of Europe’s most privileged.”

I nodded. From the bedroom I could hear Dodie. “No, stop – don’t do that. Please, I don’t want to – I don’t – oh, God, stop – please-please-please . . .”

Dodie made a little cry, like an angel dying. Ashton grinned wider, one brow arched as high as his temple.

“Well, then. I’m sure little Dorothy told you about me. Around this accursed ground I am the fucking Antichrist, sir. Ask anyone.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“You will be. You see, sir, I am an artist, a performance artist. I loathe static art. I prefer art that just – happens. And that is what I intend to do, sir, make something happen that will affect all – a shock wave, and I am ground zero.”

“Good luck.”

“I trust nothing to luck. You are to be my instrument, my catalyst. This will be my farewell performance, and my greatest. Things that are crooked will be put right – or at least made crooked in another fashion.”

“Hmm, what do you have in mind? ‘Farewell’, you said?”

“I am dying, sir. I am told I have mere weeks to live.”

“Sorry.”

“Why, dying is also a performance, is it not? But, to the point, I have investigated you, sir. You have admirable qualities – loyalty, diligence, and I suspect a sense of justice.”

“I’m a hack.”

“Quite so – one of the Great Unwashed. Well, I prefer your type. That is why I have named you as my sole heir and beneficiary.”

I sipped my drink. “Cut the shit.”

“It’s true. Gretchen will guide you after I’ve shaken the earthly bonds. She is an excellent attorney.”

I sipped my drink again. “I understand you like to play games.”

“Ha! Yes, I live for games. But make no mistake, sir. I am deadly serious about my games. I can’t think of anything more appalling to these people than if a stranger, a wily predator such as yourself, got hold of a piece of their Eden.”

I sat up. “I don’t want it. I’m trying to get out of here.”

“Come now; sell it if you wish. Just don’t sell it to them – better some hotel chain or shady development company run by someone whose name ends in a vowel.”

“Why?”

“I was one of them once. I was nurtured on their values. I hate them as I hated myself. Even the Devil needs to do penance.”

Behind us, Dodie’s cries were coming in quick succession and my cock was tenting my towel.

“No – please – no more-no more-no more – I can’t take it!” She cried again.

Ashton stood. “Gretchen, dear, say goodbye to Mrs Walker. Hope to see you again, Dorothy – perhaps you would like to play with Gretchen again.”

A long groan of relief echoed from the bedroom as Gretchen emerged. She and Ashton left. Outside the horizon was turning pink.

I returned to the bedroom to find Dodie tangled in the sheets, her thighs glazed. A wan grin of total satisfaction curled her mouth. I didn’t think it was possible: Dodie had been orgasmed into exhaustion.

I didn’t mind sleeping on the wet spot – it was all wet. I slept until noon, when the sound of the shower running drew me back to consciousness. I stood and stumbled toward the bathroom. The door was locked, but I didn’t have the luxury of pondering Dodie’s groundless modesty, my bladder was bursting. I went behind the house to take a leak in nature.

“Dodie! Dodie, are you in there? Damn it, come out!”

I walked around to the front to find Walker. Dodie’s bike was on the other side of the wall, just out of his sight.

“What’s your problem, Walker?”

“Where’s my wife?”

“How should I know?”

“God damn you. If she’s in there . . .”

“What? A guy who loans his wife out like a lawnmower shouldn’t complain when she wanders out of sight.”

“I’ll – I’ll . . .”

“What? Run to Bradley, get him to fix it for you?”

“Dodie!”

“You’re pathetic, man. Get the fuck out of here.”

He glared, but he didn’t try anything. A klaxon blasted from the wharf. It was the ferry.

“Shit!” I ran back into the house. Dodie cowered behind the door. I told her to stay put until Bink was out of sight, then I yanked on some clothes and took off for the village. Walker was already jogging ahead of me. We got to the village at nearly the same time. An SUV with state police markings pulled off the wharf and headed toward the far end of the island.

I bolted into Bones’ place. He stood behind the bar talking to a knot of swells. They dummied up and stared at me.

“Bones, why didn’t you tell me the ferry was going to pull in?”

“Didn’t know – special trip for the ADA.”

“What?”

The others drifted over to a corner table, but kept giving me the hairy eyeball.

“What’s up?”

“Ashton Bates – the guy who came in here yesterday with the tall blonde – they found him with his head all bashed in over on Cate’s Rock.”

“But – Jesus, I just talked to him, I . . .” I looked around and decided to shut up.

I went outside and hailed the ferryman, Al Benedict.

“Can you take me over to the Cape today?”

“Can’t – Pirelli doesn’t want anyone leaving the island.”

“Pirelli? Who the hell is that?”

“Cape and Islands ADA. He’s investigating the murder. They’re flying in a forensics team from Hyannis. Meanwhile, nobody gets on my boat without his OK.”

“Fuck!” I stalked back to the tavern.

“Bones, what’s the story with that guy Ashton? The fucker just showed up at the house last night – I didn’t know him from Ted Williams’ grandma.”

“Pirelli doesn’t want us to talk. He’s coming back here to interview everyone.”

“Where’s the babe – Gretchen?”

“Don’t know. They can’t find her. They think she might be dead too.”

“Screw this.”

I headed back to the house. I had a bad feeling.

It was getting near sunset. I stepped out of the shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt and went outside. I could feel the other shoe hurtling through the atmosphere at my head. It arrived in the form of the state police SUV.

A guy about 40 stepped out.

“I’m Glen Pirelli, Cape and Islands District Attorney’s office.”

I nodded.

He looked over the house. “A little spare for Wang’s tastes.”

“He never slept here.”

“The feds will be locking up this one too.”

“When they get around to it.”

Pirelli’s eyes were black, gleaming pools that fixed on me like a cobra’s.

“I understand you entertained Ashton Bates early this morning.”

“We entertained each other.”

“We’d like to come in.”

“Go ahead, it’s not my house.”

He motioned for me to lead, then he and a sergeant followed me inside. They took a cursory look around.

BOOK: The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5
10.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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