The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5 (33 page)

We move so that Karen is on her back under me. I take my weight on my arms like a gentleman. She keeps her arms full extended with her hands behind my neck. I know I won’t last long so I rock slowly, pressing against her mound. It feels like coming home.

It’s hard keeping eye contact. She laughs when she sees how difficult I find it, then she grabs my ears to help me stay focused. When she’s certain I’m looking straight at her, she wraps her legs around my waist and squeezes. I come with so much force I feel like some of it must be gushing out of my ears. And I closed my eyes, damn it.

Unbelievably I’m suddenly hit by the need to sleep. I roll off Karen. She snuggles into the side of me, one leg over my thigh. “You can untie me now,” she says.

I fumble with the belt until one of her hands slips free. She slides it down my belly to rest it on my shrunken cock. Even so, I can barely keep my eyes open. She lets go of my cock, leans across my chest so that her breasts are pressing into me, and makes a show of forcing one of my eyes open.

“Rita said you liked to sleep a lot.”

Fuck, I’d forgotten about Rita whispering sweet malice in Karen’s ear.

“But today I found out something that she doesn’t know,” Karen says.

“That I’d rather have sex than masturbate?”

“No.”

“You still think I prefer wanking?”

“Shush, don’t speak when your brain is impaired, you’ll only embarrass yourself.”

I think that’s an insult but I’m not sure, so I stay silent.

“What I found out,” Karen says, “is that you love me.”

She puts a finger to my lips to prevent me from replying. Then she kisses me on each eye. I slip into sleep, content.

Marblehead rolled down the covers to her knees and let the weight of his right hand enjoy the ride back up her thigh to her patch of black wiry fur at the top. He paused and rotated his wrist for a while as he kissed her. She moaned in such a way that he thought the time was right for the next move.

Sliding down the mattress, he lifted his huge frame so that his cock and balls dangled just beyond her reach. His pecs glistened smoothly over her. She could not quite reach them either. Then he smiled and gently lowered his mouth with its large white teeth to her pussy. He moved his tongue in a slow pattern until he settled on a spot that made her shove herself hard into his mouth. That was fine with him.

The sun from the window warmed his large, hard ass as he continued to slurp at an even pace. The sky was slate on the horizon. Snow coming. She screamed a little, beat on the mattress a lot and yelled for help after a while. She got it. After a long while, he let her come, and she collapsed with her legs wide apart in the middle of the sweaty sheets.

“You are so bad,” she said. He wrapped her in his arms. In ten minutes, she was asleep.

Marblehead got up and stroked his dick as he looked down at the wet hair around her pussy. The skin was a nice shade of brownish purple beneath the black cloud of hair.

“Mmmhmm,” he said to himself as a man will after a job well done. He headed for the kitchen catching a glimpse of the other rehabbed brownstones on the block. His house in Upper Manhattan had tripled in value in the last three years. He made a large pot of coffee, which was not easy to do with an erection that threatened to get caught in the utensil drawer. The kitchen counters were done in veined black marble.

He poured himself a cup and then leaned his ass against the counter. With his free hand, he slowly massaged his dick even harder. He liked waiting to come. Patience made the whole thing a bigger deal. Then too he enjoyed watching the ripple of his arm as the muscles danced beneath his tight skin when he jerked off.

He really wanted to fuck her in the ass to see how she liked it, but he was so thick that he wondered if she would split. He had not actually raised the subject yet, but he had placed the head of his cock against her asshole a couple of times. Clearly she was torn about the idea as much by the thought that she might be torn in half herself. He did not believe in pressure when it came to fucking.

His hard-on was approaching a volatile state and felt like hot granite when there was a bang at the door. It was one hard bang. It had to be Toodles. Nobody else would take the risk of banging on his door. Not many people knew he lived here. His mailing address was a numbered box in Carnarsie.

He put on a silk robe and took off the police lock.

When Toodles came in, he said, “You been bangin’ all night? Smells like the fuck farm in here.”

“Yeah, well, that could be,” muttered Marbles, the name Toodles called him.

“Look to me like you ain’t done yet.” He was inspecting the tent in the front of Marblehead’s robe.

“Gimme a minute.” At which point he went into the bedroom and closed the door. He gently rolled her onto her tummy and then lifted her up so that she was on her knees near the end of the bed. Making sure she was still damp, he eased the thick head of his cock into her pussy from the rear and began to pump. She seemed to be asleep still, but he knew she was playing possum. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, turned her head to one side and pretended to snore. In so doing, she pushed back hard against him with her pussy as open as possible.

A man of skill and control, Marbles fucked her with majestic certainty for another ten minutes. His balls slapped her thighs in a way that made them a little tender but it was not unpleasant. She clearly thought they felt great as she enjoyed the heavy whapping sound of his balls on her skin. His cock felt like a tree limb moving inside her and she was fond of trees. At last she gave a hard wiggle and the scent of her pussy filled his nose. He exploded inside her, pulling her asscrack hard against his hips in a grip that she could not have broken with pliers.

“Hoooo . . . not a bad fuck,” he said under his breath. He tended to understatement. She was babbling now and starting to cry. Then he bent over her and kissed her shoulders following the ridge of her spine to her hips with more kisses. By then she was nearly asleep again.

When he came back to the livingroom, Toodles said, “Take a shower, man. You been rolling in pussy. I can’t drive the Caddy with no big-ass hard-on, you hear?”

“You can’t do nothing with no hard-on, Toodles.” Toodles had been chipping white bitch about six days a week since he was fourteen. He was so big across the chest by then that nobody bothered to tell him to stop. He had just turned forty before Christmas.

By the time he was tossed out of pro football at 20, he was also doing steroids and uppers. He balanced the mood swings with a little tab now and then. This pharmacological mix did not do much for his sex life, but he sure made an impression wherever he went. That was enhanced by his black leather porkpie hat, that he wore on the front of his enormous skull, and the wide black cashmere overcoat he sported in winter with a pocket for a shotgun inside. His orangey brown pigskin gloves were a little out of place with the cashmere coat, but nobody noticed his gloves. Few people forgot his large dead eyes.

“We gotta see a guy,” said Toodles in a dreamy voice.

“About a horse?” asked Marbles.

“Horse? No fuckin’ horse this time. Chinchillas.”

Marblehead was used to this sort of lateral focus from Toodles and did not press it.

“Forget about it, let’s go. Chinchillas, hunh?”

“Yeah, chinchillas. Dead chinchillas. Big fucking fuss, if you ask me, over some dead rats.” By the time they got to the Caddy, it had started to sleet. Last week’s snow was still on the ground with a layer of ice underneath that. After they crossed into Brooklyn, even the heavy Caddy waddled a little in the slop.

Toodles plowed the Caddy through a ridge of slush and pulled up to the curb at the corner. A hard wind pushed at the windows. The heater felt good.

The streets were empty. Here in Red Hook they were among the last in the city that were paved with granite cobble stones. They were slippery and good for breaking your ankle if you had to move fast. Marbles hated them. Two blocks down they could see a ratty bodega that might be open. Otherwise the inhabitants had left the neighborhood for work, left for good or were left for dead. Here and there buildings that had survived demolition stuck up in isolation like old, broken teeth. Sleet slapped the windows after the engine shut down.

They got out of the car, went around the corner and headed three blocks north. They both knew appearances were deceptive. No building here sold for less than a million bucks, even though there were no windows in lots of the window frames. Everyone wanted to get in on the boom to come. Some buildings were being rehabbed by the new owners who occupied one of the floors.

“This is one ugly shithole,” said Marblehead. He stuck to no-load tax-free bond funds. Real estate was too much work and he needed tax relief in his bracket.

His eyes swept to the top floor of the brick building across the street.

“Marbles, you ugly. You ugly as this place,” said Toodles. Toodles had bought two houses in the area in the last six months. He was having them gutted by his cousin from the south who owed him for his down payment on a house in Sea Bright, New Jersey. His cousin was good with a hammer. Toodles had never used a hammer, but he knew how to pound things without one.

“Yeah, Toodles, I’m ugly. I am. I admit it, but I ain’t fuckin’ crazy like you.”

Toodles’ vision went out of phase like an old black and white TV with the horizontal on the fritz. The left side of his head throbbed. The right side buzzed. His fingernails dug into his palms even through the cashmere lining of his hand-made pigskin gloves. He waited a moment for things to clear in his head. He did not like to be called crazy.

“The guy in there?” he said, changing the subject.

“The guy’s in there all right. He walkin’ around. See behind the shade there?”

“Maybe he’s an asshole. A nervous asshole.”

“Could be. Could be.”

They crossed the sidewalk shoulder to shoulder. Together they were half again as wide as the door. Toodles was tall and wide in the shoulders. Marblehead was taller with long arms. His neck seemed to start at the top of his head and flare out to his shoulders from there. He was slow on his feet, which had ended his career in the ring. The ring had also left him with a jaw that creaked when he chewed. It sounded like a rusty rendering machine chewing a bone. He had a warm smile, but not many people got to see it.

Toodles was scary. Women never knew whether to be turned on by him, scared to death of him, or both. He did not think much about sex. The front door to the building was not locked. The lobby was stuffy and warm. Marblehead held the door for Toodles. They walked quietly up to the third floor landing and paused to listen for a breech closing or a cylinder snapping into place.

“Why’s this guy in Red Hook? He an asshole?” asked Marbles.

“You gotta gun?”

“Gun? Why I need a gun for an asshole? He an asshole, right? So why’s he living here?” Marbles did not like guns. Too many ways to fuck up with a gun. Toodles didn’t mind either way. He got where he was going gun or no gun.

“No . . . well, yeah, I guess,” said Toodles scratching has forehead. The steroids aggravated his skin. “He an asshole, all right. I mean, where the fuck else should he be? He’s a Yuppy. Got alligators knitted on his G-string and what have you like that. They all wanna live in Red Hook. It’s cool now.”

“Smells like cat piss to me.”

“No, that’s herbals, Man. Herbal shit.”

“Herbal shit?”

“Aromatherapy or some shit. Makes ’em feel better.”

“Sheeeit, man, gonna take a lotta herb make you feel better in this fuckin’ place.”

They got to the top floor. Marbles leaned on the front door of one of the apartments. He let his weight settle on it. The metal skin on the door sagged and buckled. The door popped open. The guy was standing in the living room with a T-shirt that didn’t cover his naked dick. The room was large and nicely decorated with a large bank of windows leading to a wide narrow balcony. Doors led to other rooms off the living room.

It was an odd building, having three bedroom apartments and marble stairways. Nearly abandoned in the 70s, it was now a coop. Only the top two floors were occupied as yet.

“Where’s the fuckin’ chinchilla?” asked Toodles as he marched over the fallen door. He kept his eye glued to the guy’s eyeball in case he twitched looking for a sidearm.

The guy was the whitest guy that Marblehead had ever seen. He looked like a dishrag on two icicles. He could see the guy’s eyes flick to the right toward a doorway. Marbles started toward it to check.

“You got the five hundred?” asked Toodles.

Marblehead went to the doorway and looked inside. The room had an enormous walnut sleigh bed, satin sheets and a sea of embroidered pillows. All this shit would go for three, three and a half grand from Manhattan. There was indeed a guest face down on the bed. A small pile of cushions supported the hips of a girl who was now out cold with a martini glass in her hand.

She wore the floor length chinchilla which was now pushed up to her waist. Her creamy ass and pink pussy were in full view between her legs. Her feet were in her open-toed sandals with three-inch heels. They were covered with pale gold sequins. The shoes went with the coat and her pale strawberry blonde cloud of hair between her legs.

The guy looked astounded, like they had interrupted his strip croquet game. It was around his eyes.

“Not yet,” said the guy, with a hopeful wheedle underneath it.

“Too late,” said Toodles.

“That coat’s worth 80 thousand . . . Take it.”

“That coat worth shit to me. I don’t move shit like that. Frodo give you the coat for 8 thousand. You paid Frodo 7,500. The coat worth 80 grand. He needed cash. You got a deal, man. Ten cents on the dollar. You got a deal. Now you stiffing him on the small five. That’s fuckin’ dumb, you know? He wants his five hundred.”

“I don’t—”

“– have it.” Marblehead finished the thought for him and paused.

“The nays have it, Asshole.” Then Toodles and Marblehead walked over to the guy. They ripped off his shirt which left him naked. Then they picked him up and shoved his head through the glass of one of the windows, which also broke out the old wooden frame. Then they paused to let him take in the moment. After that, they threw him through the window, assuming he would land in the street, but he managed to grab the iron balcony rail.