She walked back into the living room and sat down, her head in her hands. She felt nauseous, half from the martinis and half from disgust. She didn't know how she would be able to explain this to Frankie. He had never actually tried to turn her out to go with any man who had the price, even though she knew that she could make a lot of money. Frankie had always done alright on his own through his connections in the dope scene, but now it looked as though she was going to have to go with any man that Fred told her to. Harris was acting strangely towards her now. She knew that this was just his way of protecting himself in case she would ever have to testify. If the police had witnesses that she had become a prostitute, she wouldn't stand a chance.
The men didn't even seem to notice that she was sitting there, they went on with their conversation completely ignoring her. She was embarrassed, humiliated and completely ashamed as she got up and went to get her coat.
"I'm leaving now," she barely whispered.
"Night," they called in unison.
"I want to see you tomorrow morning back here," Fred said, Harris nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, okay," she answered, and opened the door and ran down the hall to the elevator.
The cool night air felt refreshing on her face, but the filth that she felt inside could not be cleansed. She walked to the nearest phone booth and called Frankie. He told her that he had just gotten in and that he was going over to Shoo-Fly's apartment and that he would meet her there. She was hardly in the mood for a party, but maybe it would take her mind off what had happened earlier in the evening.
She wasn't far from Shoo-Fly's apartment so she decided to walk rather than take a cab, besides, she needed time to think things out. She just couldn't tell Frankie, but she would have to think of some excuse so that he wouldn't become suspicious if she had to be away overnight, and that wouldn't be easy! She knew that Frankie would be leery of her actions since she had left him for a day or so, just a few days before. She pulled her coat closer around her and hurried down the street to Shoo-Fly's apartment.
Shoo-Fly's "mistress" opened the door when she knocked and "he" whisked her into the living room where just a few people were sitting around, listening to records, smoking pot and talking. Frankie was not there yet so she decided to help herself to a joint and relax on one of the many cushions that we're scattered around on the floor. The acrid smell of the smoke permeated the room and she could already hear muffled giggles coming from another part of the house. Typical Shoo-Fly party, she thought to herself.
Finally Shoo-Fly appeared in the doorway and gave her an enthusiastic embrace.
"Welcome, you sweet thing," he giggled. "As you can see, it's the same old group!"
She looked around to see if Al was there, but he was nowhere in sight. She lay back on the cushion and let the marijuana take its affect. She didn't need much since she had been drinking martinis in the afternoon and earlier that evening. The music vibrated and spun in her head and she was about to drift into a hazy twilight when she heard Frankie's voice.
"Well, there you are, my love," he said, "I've missed you today," and he bent over and gave her a warm kiss.
She looked up at him tenderly, thinking that she would do anything in the world not to hurt or worry him.
"Sit down, love," she said, patting a place next to her on the cushion.
"Just a minute, let me get a joint," he added, and walked to the bar and took one from a silver cigarette case and lit it.
She looked around the room and spotted Carla, the ex-stripper, who had first introduced her to "H". She had not tried it since Shoo-Fly's last party, but she wasn't getting the affect from the pot that she usually got and thought that maybe later she would try it again.
"Hi Carla," she called out. "Haven't seen you around. Where've you been?"
"Just around," she said, "what's new with you."
Cynthia got up from her cushion and walked over to her, meeting Frankie halfway across the room.
"Be back in a second, sweetheart," she said. "Carla," she inquired, "do you have any more of that white stuff with you tonight?"
"Sure, honey. You want to try some? Not getting the same kicks you were before, eh?" She laughed, a drug-high laugh.
"Well, yes, that's part of it. I just need something to make me forget I'm alive!"
"Things bad? Thought you and Frankie were thick as thieves now."
"We are, that's part of the problem."
"Well, I won't pry, but come with me and let Mama Carla fix you up."
She followed Carla into the kitchen and watched her as she measured out a portion of the heroin and handed it to her.
"You remember how I told you to take it?" she asked.
"You sniff from one side first and then the other, right?"
"You got it, kid. Go to it!"
She bent over the white powder and inhaled part of it deeply into one nostril, then did the same with the other. She didn't feel the same dizziness, nausea, that she did the first time she tried it. Her head felt light, her whole body felt light, she felt as though she could conquer the whole world! She walked, or rather floated, back into the living room and sat down next to Frankie and put her arms around him.
"I love you so much," she said, but she thought that her voice sounded as if it were coming from somewhere else. She giggled and he pulled her close to him.
"What have you been smoking?" he said chidingly.
"Just had one joint," she laughed, "But a whole lot of something else!"
"You took some horse?" he demanded.
"What of it?" she replied.
"Nothing, honey," his voice more concerned than angry, "but just so you know how to handle it."
She heard the words that he was saying, but they floated somewhere around her head without really getting through.
"I feel so good, so warm, how could it possibly be bad?" she asked, not entirely innocently. She had heard stories of people getting completely hooked on junk and not living for anything else but their next fix, but she was certain that it wouldn't happen to her.
He kissed her lightly on the cheek, knowing that she was not comprehending anything that he was saying, or even listening. I'll talk to her tomorrow, he thought.
He knew that something was bothering her for her to try heroin again, but now was not the time to ask her. He couldn't imagine what it could be unless she was upset about Gypsy's visit the night before, but he passed over that because she had seemed so happy that morning.
"Cindy," he whispered, "You know what can happen. Just don't let it happen to you! In fact, I won't let it!"
She just looked at him with vacant eyes, her mind a million miles away in her own little reverie.
She put her head down on the pillow, closed her eyes and fell asleep. Frankie watched her for about fifteen minutes then got up and wandered around the room aimlessly, trying to figure out what had happened to make her take this giant step. He knew that she had been upset that he had left Shoo-Fly's last party with that redhead, but they had straightened that out. The only other thing was Gypsy's accusations, warnings and untimely visit, but he was certain that it wasn't that.
He was about to walk back into Shoo-Fly's playroom when he felt a hand on his shoulder and a man's voice addressing him.
"Greetings pal," he said.
"Oh hi, Al," Frankie replied, "back to the den of iniquity I see."
"Well, I hadn't planned on coming, but I heard that you and Cynthia would be here, so I thought I'd drop by."
"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd think that you had eyes for my girl," he said laughingly.
"Well, actually," Al replied, "don't know if she told you, but I did have a drink, with her this afternoon."
"Oh!"
"Don't get the wrong idea. She was on her way to go shopping, but there is something that I found out that is of interest to both of you, actually."
"What's that? Anything important? Cindy has been acting strangely this evening, maybe you can shed some light on the situation."
"I thought she may have decided to tell you, Frankie, but honestly, I think she was afraid that you didn't need anything else to worry about."
"She's right on that count, but what is it anyway?"
Al told him briefly what he had found out about Harris, Joe Flanagan's investigation and how they were going to try to nail Cynthia in order to tie in Frankie and Harris.
"That's just lovely… fucking lovely," Frankie stammered. "What did Cindy plan on doing, keeping it a secret forever?"
"I don't know, but you know that she would never do anything to hurt you."
"That poor sweet, dumb kid," Frankie said, "I guess I'll have to have a talk with her in the morning. I wouldn't let those bastards take advantage of her, she's too real. You meet so few real people, and she's one of them."
"Well, don't tell her I said anything to you. Let her think you found it out all by yourself… That way you keep both of us in good graces!"
"Sure thing," he said, "And thanks a lot. Many, many thanks."
Frankie wandered towards the back of the apartment and stood outside the door of the playroom. He wished that Cynthia hadn't passed out because he would have liked to make love to her, but that was impossible now. He could hear giggling and moans coming from inside the room and he rubbed his hands briskly over his thighs as he debated whether or not he should go in. He didn't want to take the chance of Cynthia's waking up and catching him again, but he knew that she would sleep for at least another hour or so, so he opened the door and walked into the ante-room.
"Well, hello there," a voice, a woman's voice, said.
He turned around, surprised that someone else was waiting there before going in and joining in on the fun.
"What's the matter, love? In need of some loving that your little girlfriend can't handle?"
When his eyes had become adjusted to the light, he realized that the voice belonged to a reasonably sober Gypsy! He looked at her, his eyes taking in the flabbiness of her flesh, the wrinkles in her face where once there had been firmness and youth.
"Not exactly," he answered her, "Just thought that I'd get some diversion while she is indisposed, anything wrong with that?"
"Nothing at all, sweetheart," she murmured, moving closer to him and running her hands over his muscular chest and waist.
"Hold on a minute, Gypsy," he said slowly, "I didn't say that you were going to be my diversion!"
"Oh Frankie… please… please," she pleaded, dropping to her knees and grasping the back of his thighs as she lowered herself.
He was about to pick her up and bent to put his hands under her arms to lift her when she grabbed his flaccid, limp penis and closed her mouth over it. He straightened up, startled by her forwardness, but stimulated by the warmth of her mouth and tongue as it encouraged him into erectness.
"Oohhhhhhh," he gasped as he felt the tightening build between his legs.
"Let's go inside," she whispered, taking her mouth from him for just a second and tugging firmly at his legs.
He opened the door to the mattress and pillow-covered room and they fell together twisting and turning like animals in heat.
"I knew that you would come back to me, Frankie," she murmured. "I knew you still loved me."
Frankie was barely listening to what she was saying, but tried to put everything out of his mind, except for the fact that his need had to be satisfied. He knew that it was wrong to let her believe that he did care for her again, but he was breathing too rapidly and his lust was too great to risk her leaving him, so he said nothing. She ran her tongue up and down his body until he was twitching ecstatically beneath her oral caress and his massive organ was standing upright from his loins.
She paused for a moment and looked at his great and throbbing manhood before, once again, closing her mouth over it. It filled her mouth until she thought she would choke, but she didn't want to let it go. She sucked voraciously, licking the veined underside at the same time, taking every inch that she could in her throat.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm. Aaaahhhhhhhhh," he groaned as her fingers began to tickle his loose hanging testicles, sending shivers throughout his whole being.
He could feel the heat from her aging body against his flesh, and even though her breasts were not as firm as they had once been, they were still full and soft against him. He put one hand around one of her soft, full globes and squeezed gently at first, then harder, pinching the nipple into erectness.
"Yes… yes… Frankie… yes," she whimpered, tingling from his touch.
She moved on her knees between his legs so that she could reach underneath him and pull his hips up closer and deeper into her mouth, and he could fondle her breasts at the same time.
Her bony fingers slipped under his buttocks and she ran her fingers into the crease of his behind, prodding and pulling in an effort to find the tiny elastic hole of his rectum.
"Agggghhhhh," he moaned as she pulled apart the fleshy cheeks of his buttocks and slowly moved close to the minute aperture. He was in such a state of passion and need that it didn't matter what she did, the pressure that was building between his legs was the only thing that mattered to him.
His hands tightened their grip on her soft, ripe breasts and she wiggled against him, knowing that her need was as great as his. She had wanted Frankie for a long time, so she wanted to make it last as long as possible. She knew that he would cum if she continued her mouthing of his erect, pulsing phallus, so reluctantly she pulled her mouth off of him and ran her tongue up his body and bit quickly and sharply at the base of his throat.
He pulled her up on him until she was lying flat on top of him, her thighs lying against his stomach and pubis. She could feel his hard, jerking manhood prod into her flesh demanding satisfaction, so she pressed her body even further and harder into him and kissed him passionately, running her tongue over his gums and thrusting it deep into his throat. He sucked greedily at her tongue as she rocked against his body, driving spasms of lustful joy through his whole being.
"Cynthia… Cindy," he moaned softly, completely oblivious to the fact that it was Gypsy who was on him and not Cynthia.
Gypsy took her mouth away from his and was about to say something or just get up and leave him when she felt his fingers reach down between their bodies and begin to caress the soft down of her pubic mound in an effort to find the bud of her clitoris. Her own need was so great that she decided to let the fact that he had called her by the wrong name pass over. His fingers were manipulating her roughly until her clitoris was hard and pulsing with desire.
"Ooohhhhh, yes… yes… yes, baby," she crooned, nibbling at his neck and ears. "Do it."
He worked his fingers in a frenzy, trying to get her to such a point that she would raise her thighs slightly and he could slam his rock hard penis deep into her with the first plunge. His hardened, throbbing rod ached from want and lust and he had to have her.
"Raise up," he ordered hotly, pulling at her thighs insistently.
"Not yet," she murmured softly, knowing that she was driving him out of his mind.
"Yes… yes… now… NOW!" he commanded again, this time shoving one thick finger harshly into the warm, clinging walls of her vagina.
"Oh God," she groaned at the sudden intrusion, but pushed her hips down harder on this impalement. She wriggled on top of him, feeling the thickness of his finger deep inside her and his fingernail scraping lightly against the wet, throbbing walls.
"God what you do to me," she whispered thickly.
"Get on top of me… now… now," he ordered her again, but this time she raised her hips slowly and poised herself directly over his upstanding, jerking, thick rod. He went to pull her down onto him, roughly, with one deep, cruel plunge, but she balanced herself with her knees and her hands on his shoulders and eased herself down slowly until she could feel the angry red knob of his manhood tease the tender, hot lips of her vaginal passage.
"Just a little… just a little," she whispered. "Just a little at a time."
He could hardly stand his frustration, but allowed her to lower herself onto him a little at a time, feeling the clinging, wet walls of her hairlined pussy close tightly around his thick, pulsing rod as she eased down on his body.
"Oh yes… you feel so good, so good inside me," she groaned.
"That's it… that's it, baby do it to me!" he gasped, his breath coming rapidly and unevenly.
"I'm going to fuck you… fuck you until you can't remember anything else," she said.
Then with one final lunge she lowered herself completely down on him and she could feel the very end of his rod rubbing-inside her.
Slowly she began to rotate her hips on top of him, feeling every inch of his erect, jerking penis move inside her, filling every inch of her. Her movements became faster and faster until he felt that he would explode any minute. She bucked up and down on him, digging her knees into the side of his chest, holding him tightly.
"Ooohhhhh yes… yes…" she moaned, feeling the well of her orgasm about to overflow. "I'm going to cum… I'm going to cum… fuck me… FUCK ME!"
He tried to raise his hips off the mattress on the floor, but she was slamming into him with such force that it was impossible.
"Oh do it… do it," he commanded hotly. "I'm going to cum too!"
She could feel his prick becoming even thicker than before and she knew that he was about to spill into her any second. She felt the tightness and tenseness between her legs quivering and began to let loose as she pushed down on him with all her strength.
"Here I cum," she groaned, her head tossed back, her teeth clenched and bared like a wild mare.
As her own contractions wracked out, she could feel him jerk hotly inside her, filling her with his flood of sperm.
It felt like they came together for hours before she rolled off the top of him and onto the floor beside him. Other couples were making love at various spots in the room, but no one seemed to notice or much care what the others were doing, but each group or couple was wrapped up in their own little orgy.
"Frankie," she said finally, "are you going to go away with me now?"
She looked at him afraid to hear his answer, but her eyes pleading pathetically.
"You know I can't do that, Gypsy. I've had a ball with you tonight, but that's as far as it goes. You know that I love Cynthia."
He could have told her anything, made any excuse, but she didn't want to hear that he was in love with another woman.
"You're going to be sorry one of these days, Frankie," she threatened, "Mark my words."
"Let's not start that again, okay?" he said, annoyed.
She didn't answer, but got up and went into the other room to get dressed, her stomach churning from his rejection.
Frankie lay there for just a few more minutes and then decided to go back into the living room and see what was going on. When he got there Al had left and Cynthia was still passed out on the floor, sleeping soundly.
He knelt down beside her and touched her hair and face thinking how beautiful she was and how lucky he was to have a girl like her.
The party continued for several hours, but he let her sleep, knowing that she would probably have one hell of a headache when she awoke. He smoked several joints and then lay down beside her. It was about four in the morning when he woke up and reached out for her. She curled up in his arms like a baby and kissed him on the cheek.
"So… you're awake," he said, half-surprised.
"I've just been resting, darling," she murmured. "What time is it?"
He looked at his watch and told her, watching for the look of surprise on her face.
"How long have I been asleep," she asked. "Seems like I've been floating on clouds for hours."
"I should think so. You've been passed out for over five hours. How do you feel?"
"A little shaky, actually, but marvelous!!"
"You don't feel sick," he inquired, surprised.
"No… no… not at all."
"What do you say we head for home?"
"My coat's in the foyer," she said. "I'll wait here for you, okay?"
"Sure, sweetheart. Anything you say." And he left to get her coat.
She looked around the room to see if she could still see Carla, and found her lying in one corner, slightly engrossed with a homosexual young man.
"Pardon me, Carla," she said, "but can I see you for a minute?"
"Certainly… be right there."
She followed Cynthia to another corner and asked her what was on her mind.
"That stuff really had you out. How did you like it?" Carla asked.
"It was great. That's just it!" Cindy told her.
"Well, glad you like it kid. It's the only way to fly," she replied and started to walk back to her faggot friend.
"No… wait a minute," she called out.
"Yes."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I get some more stuff from you tomorrow?"
"You like it that much, eh," she said, laughing.
"Don't kid me," she said, "I'm serious. I want to get some more!"
"Yeah, sure kid. You can get all you want, but you've got to have the price."
Cynthia just stood there, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, shaking.
"How much is it?" she asked, hesitantly.
"It's quite a bit, but I can get a good deal for you if you bring cash and become a regular customer."
"Can Frankie get it for me?" she asked.
"Can I get what for you?" Frankie interrupted, walking up in back of her.
"Your love wants to graduate to the stronger stuff, Frankie."
"Cynthia," he said, "I'll discuss this with you at home. Let's go!"
Cynthia was almost in tears of frustration, but started to follow him, then turned back for just a second and told Carla that she would get in touch with her tomorrow.
Frankie grabbed her arm and almost dragged her out the door.
"Don't ever do that behind my back," he warned. "You don't know what that stuff can do to you."
Cynthia just nodded and got into the cab he had hailed, and they rode home in silence.