Leo Rudd looked down at the long red shaft of his cock as it sank into the quivering lips of the brunette's equally brunette pussy. Her long, sleek body, too thin for his taste, lay spread out on its stomach side. A pillow lay under her belly, humping her compact ass high in the air. A puff of jet hair poked out from between her thighs as she offered her upturned vagina, to his rampaging cock. Her cunt was juicy and generous, but not too generous. As he thrust deep into it the walls sucked him snugly into its satiny, throbbing folds.
She groaned hoarsely and wiggled her ass, screwing him right up to the very end of her cunt, then slammed against him, quivering in delight as he fucked her in short, brutal jabs.
"Hit the end!Mmmmmmmmaaaahhhh! That's it! Make me come! Put your finger up my ass… Oh, Leo! Do it!"
Her legs spread wider, pulling her cheeks open until the most intimate part of her body lay open to his appreciative view. She had a nice, hairy ass that never failed to excite him. The valley of her buttocks was lined with black fuzz that continued under her legs to form the bushy jet diaper on her crotch. Carla was one of those pale, alabaster brunettes that had a nice, stimulating swatch without being bothered by even a trace of hair where she shouldn't have any. Her body hair was all in one place, a nice cushiony contrast to her marblesque skin.
Leo pressed his cock firmly into her cunt and left it there, not moving now. She drew on it with her clasping pussy, grunting and tossing her head as she arched her back still higher. Her gaping rectum was pink and puckered, moving in a little rhythm like a pursing mouth. He touched it with his fingertip and eased slowly into her ass.
"Yesohyesyes," she moaned. "Press it against your cock and feel yourself inside me. More More!"
She scooted back, shoving her ass at him and rubbing her cunt against his huge, swinging balls. Her widespread slit oozed out its sex honey onto his balls. She eased it into position until she was able to slide her clitoris over his aching sacks. Leo's teeth gritted as he fought against the exploding pressure in his cock. His finger shoved brutally into her asshole until his palm flattened against her cheeks. He pressed down against his cunt-trapped prick through the thin membrane, tracing his own cylindrical hardness as though it were covered only by an unusually thick rubber. God, what a fragile wall of flesh divided a woman! Her tight ass rolled over his finger in answer, pinching it like a too snug glove.
He kept his finger in place as he rammed her cunt without mercy, his balls swinging hard and slapping against her up-ended cunt until they were creamy with her lubrication.
"Your other hand," she gasped. "Tickle my clit with it. Make me cum everywhere at once. Ooooooh, yes!"
He reached around her thumping ass and delved into the thick, damp crotch, pulling her cunt open with two fingers while he used his other hand to flick the swollen bud. She had the biggest clitoris he had ever seen. It poked out like a marble when she was good and hot and ready to climax.
"Get it!" he commanded. "Get it quick, I'm going to cum in you, baby."
He did not need to encourage her now. She was soaring over the top in a burst of joy, her body rocking forward in spasms of release. Deep inside her vagina, Leo felt the sudden expansion, then a spray of fluid that met his own cum as his cock spewed out into her sucking walls.
She collapsed flat on the bed, arms and legs flying, her black hair tumbled over her face. When he pulled out of her he saw that her thighs were glistening with cum. He fell down beside her, the tip of his prick burning and sore.
Carla raised her head and smirked.
"Give me a cigarette, lover," she ordered.
As he fumbled in the pack and lit it for her, he thought that the request was the key to her personality. It was tough; the toughest, most independent and downright cocky thing a woman could do, almost on a par with pissing standing up. He had seen a girl do that once, and he would bet anything that Carla could manage it, too.
He watched her inhale, one knee raised on her outstretched arm resting stiffly on it. Jaunty and tough. Unconsciously, she reached down to her crotch and rubbed herself, making a wry face.
"God, I've got a sore cunt."
Her voice was husky and matter-of-fact. Though every line of her body was feminine she was a truck driver underneath. She was also a good, no-nonsense, no hang-ups piece of ass and no one knew that better than Leo. That was the only reason he went with her. She was a cold, unfeeling bitch who chilled his blood. He knew he could never hurt her or bend her to his will, and therein lay her basic lack of appeal for him. The only evidence of softness he had ever seen in her was her pampering obsession with that nasty little dog. He wondered why she had chosen the smallest breed she could find, but deep down he knew. Carla was just like him; she liked to lord it over things that were weaker than she was.
She worked in the garment trade and every day was kill-or-be-killed. Whether she had been lethal to begin with, and therefore drawn to such work, or whether the work had done it to her he did not know, nor much care.
She flicked the ash off the cigarette with her thumbnail and crossed her ankle over her knee. She chuckled softly.
"Well, Studs, tell me about this dead ringer for Miss Airy Fairy that we saw tonight."
Instinctively, he tried a little masculine cunning. "Who? What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on. The girl in the cafe. The blond that was huddled in mother's own hand knit sweater. She's the spitting image of Ginny. You obviously rented her some apartment in the neighborhood. I take it, it was Ginny's old pad?"
"Yeah. So what?"
"Oh, little big man, don't try to fool me. What sort of creepy gimmick are you up to now? First it's making tables rise for the spirits, now you're dabbling in reincarnation. You want to make her into another Ginny, don't you? That appeals to your wizard complex."
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Leo sighed. "I don't want to do anything with her. She needed a pad and she's got a good job. She can afford the rent. Why not?"
"Balls," Carla said flatly. "Your spiritualist craze has gotten the best of you. First it was zodiacs, when you buttonholed everybody to ask them what their birthday was. Then the tarot cards, the communing with the dead, and now we're playing Easter Sunday. Ginny is resurrected. Voila!"
Cold fear washed over him as he heard her mocking tones.
"What do you mean by that? Ginny isn't dead."
"Don't take me so literally, lover. I didn't mean she was dead. Who knows where she is? My point is that you can't forget the spacey little cunt, can you? She was the poor man's Holly Golightly and now you're fashioning another one from this new kid. Dr. Leo Frankenstein. Well listen buster all you need is another Ginny," she hissed. "You came close to having the vice squad on your neck when you started her whoring."
"I didn't start her whoring!" Leo snapped. "She asked me to introduce her to some guys. She was high on some kind of dope and she wanted to gangbang."
"Um-hmm," Carla purred, unconvinced. "You know, Leo, there was a book about a man like you. It's called Trilby. She was a sweet singer of sweet songs until she met Svengali, who got such a half-nelson on her psyche that she couldn't sing a note unless he were in the audience. You were fucking her ass off but that wasn't enough, was it? You had to own her soul."
He got up and fixed himself a drink.
"What the hell do you care about Ginny?" he demanded. "You hated her guts."
She did not answer right away. He looked at her curiously, seeing an unreadable expression steal over her face.
"No, I don't give a damn about her, and yes, I hated her guts. My point is that I think you are Rosemary's Baby."
He held the glass to his lips, motionless for a moment. Then he took a long pull at the scotch and returned to the bed.
"Oh, hell, I don't take all that stuff seriously," he scoffed. "I like to read about it… Who doesn't? But I don't believe in it. It's just a craze that got started when that woman started predicting the future. She hit a few times," he said with a shrug. "And everybody got going on psychic phenomena and ESP. You read detective stories," he challenged, somewhat lamely.
"That's slightly different. They don't get me in trouble."
The dog came in and jumped on the bed. Leo watched as Carla cuddled it to her breasts and whispered to it, blowing on its ear and laughing. He watched them, wondering. Was it possible that there was something to reincarnation? Now, that dog… it might have been a person in another life. Carla swore that he was almost human. All dog lovers said that.
Oh, hell! It wasn't possible. It was just a little hobby he had picked up. He really didn't believe any of it. It was just that it was so interesting. That's why he hung around the Village. There were so many zodiac coffee houses opening up, so many fortune tellers and spiritualist groups. It was just interesting, that's all.
As for Ginny…
He honestly did not know what had happened to her. She was spacey all right; Carla was right about that. It was odd that she had left so suddenly, since she had almost a full month's rent coming to her. Ginny never had enough money; he thought she would have stayed long enough to get her money's worth out of that last rent she had paid.
She told him to sublet the place for her, that she'd be back in a year. He remembered the day she had zoomed into the rental office in one of her zany get-ups.
"Leo, I'm going to be a California girl! Trendy!" she shrilled, her voice exploding in that breathless, almost fey mirth of hers. Her pale, almost colorless blue eyes had been wide and staring. Hopped up, he thought. There was something fragile and papery about Ginny, as if she would vanish into a misty night with a barely audible whisper, like a soul passing silently into the next world. The thing that fascinated him most was that she looked so unlike a girl who led the life that she did. Ginny had fucked and sucked half of the Village, yet she looked like a fairy spirit. Her skin was almost translucent and her golden hair had a glow about it that reminded him of a halo.
That was why he enjoyed making a whore out of her.
It made him feel powerful, magic! To take a girl like that and make her do the things he had seen her do in the apartment that night, with six men, all of them at her at once until the tangle of arms and legs looked like a thrashing, flesh-colored spider on the floor.
She had been broke, as usual, but more broke than he had ever known her to be. He had gotten in hot water with the big boss for renting too many apartments to jobless hippies. Ginny's rent was overdue, and she was on acid, which was probably where her money had gone.
Leo suggested that she entertain a few out-of-town real estate men that he knew and she had clapped her hands like a child. "Oooh, fun and games! We can party!"
He remembered her with that big cock in her mouth, swallowing cum, taking it up her cunt, in her ass, on her tits, everywhere, until her naked body had shone with it afterwards. Then they had poured champagne on her pussy and all the guys had taken turns having a long, slurping lick at it with the one who was down on her when she came declared the winner. His prize was a rimming job from Ginny. They had paid her and tipped her and paid her again, unable to believe her tireless enthusiasm. Any guy who has ever visited a whore – and all of them had – knew when a girl was putting on. It was obvious that Ginny wasn't putting on.
Then, poof! She was gone. Leo kept seeing her walking off into a milky cloud of fog, out into the night some nether world. He remembered the time she had flitted off to Mexico but it wasn't the same. That time, she had left when she told him she would, and had come back on the appointed date, to reclaim the apartment that had been sublet to, of all people, a graduate engineering student. Of course, she had neglected to notify the telephone company, the electric company and the gas company, and the bills continued to come in in her name. That irritated the precise young engineer to no end, Leo recalled with amusement. But the oversight had been typically Ginny.
This time, she had vanished on the spur of the moment with three weeks of rent down the drain. He had come back from lunch to find a message from his secretary: Ginny left town this morning. Said you can go ahead and rent the apt.
He had questioned his secretary but the woman knew nothing. "She just said she was leaving today… No, she didn't give me any details."
After she had gone, Leo felt lost. He missed the haunting quality that always surrounded her, the wild desperate look in her face that excited him because it reminded him of a spirit rising from a lake. Spacey – yes, that was a good word for her, the key word in fact. Leo felt that she had contact with another world when she left, she took the link with her.
Then Brenda Taylor had shown up in the office, asking for an apartment.
She looked like Ginny, there was no doubt about that. Not so thin, not so pale, not so wild and lost. But they looked alike. Carla, with her uncanny female intuition, had hit the nail on the head.
It was his intention to make Brenda into another Ginny.