She went outside and hailed a cab knowing that she had to go back to the apartment she shared with Frankie. Her heart was beating wildly as she stood outside the door, feeling she couldn't bear it if he weren't there, or hadn't even left a note for her. She put the key in the lock and with a trembling hand, pushed the door open.
She peeked inside as though she were almost afraid that he might be there but with that redhead. He must have heard her open the door for when she walked inside he reached out and held her close. She fell into his arms and burst into tears of relief and joy.
He held her close, his face beaming, his eyes dark and shining.
"I've been waiting for you for days, you beautiful bitch you, and then I heard the key in the lock and…"
"Oh Frankie," she sniffed, "I do love you so." He gave her a little shake and said, "Where in hell have you been? I've been worried sick and no one had heard a word from you."
"I waited for you last night, looked for you today but no one had seen you. I even checked at the 960 Club, but no one knew where you were since you left the party."
She tried to explain where she had been and what Al had told her, but tears kept pouring down her cheeks.
"I wanted to stay away, forget about you, but I knew that I couldn't stay away, so I'm back… back for good," she stammered.
"You damn well better be," he said tenderly.
"But what about the eight hundred dollars, the money that Conrad has been giving me and I spent on clothes?"
"To hell with the eight hundred dollars!" he grinned at her mischievously. "But if you ever do it again, I'll whale the skin off your bones!" He tousled her thick hair. "And what about my redhead?"
They looked at each other with complete understanding and laughed together. Hand in hand they walked right through the living room and into the bedroom, wordlessly stripped off their clothes and clutching each other like drowning people, fell on the bed and made love as though they were doing it together for the first time, and would never be able to do it again. Like one person their bodies rose and fell, twisted and turned. They were like two people who have attained that often sought for but seldom achieved state of complete understanding on the nonverbal level, where each intuitively knew when, where and what the other wanted. Coupled together, murmuring words only of love and understanding, they made love for hours, rapturously, blissfully, pausing only to snuggle peacefully in each other's arms, resting briefly before they began again.
She turned on her side, extending her smooth, rounded buttocks back towards him, reaching behind him and pulling his hips towards her own. His hands ran tenderly over her body, caressing gently while she moaned softly under his touch. His hands rested on the softly protruding flesh of her abdomen then traveled slowly to the hard, undulating bulge of her pubis.
Exploring, he found the hard little clitoris which he manipulated until she was a raging storm beneath his caress.
"Wonderful darling, oh yes…" she murmured almost indistinctly.
With her writhings his throbbing penis moved to the tiny slit of her vagina and prodded steadily at the small orifice. She reached down and searched for his hardened manhood, grasping it squeezing it for a moment and guiding it gently into her waiting aperture.
Still caressing her clitoris with his hand, he drove into her aching vagina, feeling the warmness of the vaginal walls as they closed around his throbbing, erect organ. He entered her forcefully with a sensation of hot relief mingled with a passion which drew his lips apart in a little gasp.
As he thrust he felt the tensing of her buttocks as she pressed in close to him. He let his other hand caress the soft, full roundness of her breasts, pinching nimbly at the erect nipples. He felt that his loins were a mass of tangled nerve ends as he pushed deeper and deeper into her vaginal passage.
"Darling, oh yes… yes…" she moaned, wiggling frantically alongside of him trying to force him deeper and deeper into her womb.
"I'll kneel," she whispered. "That way you can go deeper, darling. It's better for both of us." She knelt up, moving her hands and her knees slowly so that she would not lose him while she changed her position, his penis vibrating inside her as she moved.
She lay her head on the pillow and her back sloped up towards him, broadening into the buttocks between which his pulsing, hard penis seemed to disappear. Frankie shuffled his knees between her opened waiting thighs and drove into her like a jackhammer.
He watched his huge, hard cock searing into the pink folds of her flesh as she rocked back and forth against the hairiness of his muscular thighs.
"Oh baby," she moaned, "you feel so good inside me."
Moving his hands over her buttocks, he rammed into her with growing ferocity. He could see the thick stub of his flesh disappear and withdraw with wet rapidity into her moist and clinging well and feel his loins cushioned against the soft fleshiness of her backside.
Clasping her hips tightly so that his fingers dug red marks into her smooth, porcelain flesh, he surged into her, swiveling his hips for greater pressure. Her passage contracted around him, sucking him in in a tight embrace. She moved her hands helplessly on the sheets and then lifted her arms behind her, reaching back to clasp his hips and pull him at her with greater force.
"Yes… yes… oooooohhhhhhhh," she groaned, feeling the building pressure in her belly.
Feeling her fingers on his hips, virtually asking for even more, he pushed her knees even wider apart with his own and leaned heavily with his hands on her back, forcing her bottom up towards him. He thrust into her, leaving the full length of his massive, rock hard cock buried deep inside her before he withdrew to thrust in again. He kept this punishing piston movement up until tears of sweet, delicious agony were streaming down her face, driving slowly powerfully into her to the very hilt of his rod.
Moaning, gasping, he felt her hands release his hips and brush lightly against his testicles, tickling, caressing. She fondled each separately, writhing her bottom on the end of his raging penis and he felt a fresh rush of passion from the cool touch of her fingers on the fiery heat of his dangling testicles.
She began to choke out sounds that he was not sure were groans of passion or of pain so he relaxed his hip-thrusting stabs for just a second.
"No… no… don't stop, please… don't stop," she begged, her hands moving back to his hips trying to pull him closer into her once again.
He battered into her again with renewed passion and lust, each thrust flattening the soft, round globes of her buttocks as he rocked forcefully into her.
"Now… now… NOW… I'm cumming… I'm cumming… NOW!" she gasped loudly.
His body was wet from their lovemaking and he knew that it would not be long before he would empty his life-giving sperm deep into her belly.
This sensation grew and grew, a great crushing feeling in his penis as though his whole insides were being pulled out of him through his throbbing phallus. He felt powerless to wait any longer, nothing could stop him now, he couldn't have stopped for anything in the world.
He felt the overwhelming weight of an indefinable sensation gathering from the root of his being, seeking an outlet. He was panting furiously, his body heaving with each inward thrust. He felt the floodtide begin to spill and he groaned, "Now… now… I'm cumming now… oh yes here it is!"
She pushed her hips back hard against his jerking loins, ready to accept every drop of his tribute as it spilled hotly into her.
With the last weakening thrust he fell forward on top of her, his full weight crushing her down into the softness of the mattress. He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulders murmuring words of tenderness and love that he had never uttered before.
"Oh, I love you so much, my darling," he choked out.
"I love you, I love you, I love you," she almost sobbed, thinking that she had never before been so happy in all of her life.
He rolled off of her and she turned to meet his loving gaze, a glint of happiness showing on both their faces.
They lay there, holding each other, caressing, touching, kissing when they were interrupted by a long, harsh insistent ring of the doorbell. At first they both lay there fearful that whomever it was may hear them and know they were home. They didn't want to spoil their romantic, loving mood and chose to ignore it, but minute after minute the ringing persisted until Frankie finally jumped up, threw on his robe and staggered out to the door.
"Damn it all," he muttered, bending over and kissing her lightly on the forehead. "I'll be right back, just as soon as I get rid of whomever's out there!"
Stretching her body languorously, it was as though he were still inside her, for their lovemaking had been so completely full and satisfying that she ached all the way down to her toes, and she felt like one, overflowing, warm, liquid receptacle of love.
She closed her eyes and hugged herself, wishing that he would hurry back to her, hold her and make her feel safe and loved again, but her reverie was shattered by the harsh growl of his voice coming from the hallway and the whine of a woman's voice in return. They were evidently having an argument by the door, but then she heard Frankie's footsteps followed by the click of the woman's heels going into the living room. She sat upright in bed and reached for a cigarette, wondering who it could be at this hour that would make Frankie forget about her waiting for him in their bed. As they entered the living room their voices became louder and more distinguishable and her body shuddered as she recognized the woman's voice. It was Gypsy! Completely shocked she let the cigarette fall from her hand and it began to smolder on the comforter of the bed. She couldn't imagine what had brought her to their apartment at that time of night and was really afraid to think of a reason.
She felt an icy chill pass over her and a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. She jumped out of bed, slipped into a skirt and sweater and ran into the living room. She wanted to be with Frankie, be where she could see him.
When she appeared in the doorway of the living room, Frankie was standing on the other side of the room, his hands thrust into the pockets of his bathrobe, his head to one side, a thin thread of blue smoke drifting up to one side of his head where his cigarette was dangling. His eyes were half closed and he was staring coldly at Gypsy who was standing directly in front of him, but with her back to her. She was swaying slightly from side to side, obviously in a drunken stupor.
Cynthia paused in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob, listening to what Gypsy was saying.
"But you've got to believe me, Frankie. You've just got to! Its the truth. It is! Honest, it is!" Her voice was high, pleading, tense and full of insistent passion. She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his bathrobe, imploring him to listen to her.
He shrugged her hand away and said coolly, "Why don't you just get the hell out of here? I've heard this story so damn many times that you're getting worse each time you repeat it. So why not pack up and blow!" He took a menacing step toward her and she moved back, tripping over her own feet. "What in the name of God do I have to do to shut you up? Kill you!"
She clutched his arm again, stumbling and falling down on her knees in front of him, putting her arms around his legs and sobbing, "Frankie, I love you so. Please believe me and come away with me before its too late."
He reached down and roughly pulled her to her feet. Swaying drunkenly she grabbed his arm, her long, gnarled fingers hanging on to him like the talons of a hawk. "Frankie, she shouted, please come with me… please."
"You rotten drunk, for God's sake, pull yourself together and get the hell out of here."
"Why don't you believe me," she sobbed. "I only did it to get you back. Please believe me… please!" Her voice was shaking and shrill. "Torchy said that Cynthia has left you, so you're free. Free! Please come with me, I'll do anything you say, I promise."
Frankie looked at her disgustedly and spat out at her, "So Cynthia has left me, has she?" He took her by the shoulders and swung her around. "Well, look right over there, you raving maniac," he yelled, pointing at Cynthia who was standing spellbound in the doorway. "See for yourself, Cindy is right here and what's more, we're getting married immediately!"
In the sudden silence that followed Cynthia stared at Frankie, surprise and joy welling up in her heart. "Oh Frankie," she gasped, "you mean really get married? You really mean it?"
He walked over to her and took her in his arms, cradling her like you would a child.
"Of course, darling. I don't want to lose you again!" he murmured.
Gypsy glared at the two of them and began to gather her belongings where they lay on the coffee table. "Well," she muttered, "I guess that Torchy was wrong, but believe me Frankie I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier, they are coming to get you!"
Cynthia looked up at Frankie and his hand brushed over the thick mane of her hair, and kissed the nape of her neck gently.
"What's that all about, Frankie," she implored, her eyes showing their concern for him and her love.
"Oh, its just the same old stuff. Every once in awhile Gypsy has illusions of grandeur, that she is going to save me from the bulls, but its just so much crap, so don't worry your pretty little head about it."
"You mean about the narcotics boys picking you up?" she asked.
"Yeah, same story, but nothing's happened yet and she's told me this a million times," he answered. "She's just trying to cause trouble for us and nothing more. She can't accept the fact that I'm in love with you."
He held her close and together they walked back into the bedroom, falling on the bed in a warm embrace.