"Thank you, Mr. Lee," the uniformed policeman said with a nod. "Do you know your way around?"
"Yes, thanks," Jeff answered and walked through the turnstile.
Jeff didn't really mind the red tape required to get onto the convention floor. The Republicans didn't expect any trouble, but they still had to keep outsiders from butting in, after all, political secrets are political secrets, he thought.
There had been no trouble obtaining a valid delegate pass earlier that morning. Jeff's fight against organized crime in Miami had one backer, a very influential Republican. Even with all his power and influence he hadn't been able to recruit any more support for Jeff, but he did easily arrange for credentials that would allow the editor to wander around the convention hall without being known as a member of the working press.
If Pam could talk to him, Jeff thought, then maybe she would believe what I say. His wife's lack of concern was constant concern for Jeff. He wanted her to believe in what he was doing, and pay much less attention to her social engagements and ridiculous charities. If those hens wouldn't cackle so much, and try talking about important problems, he thought, they might be able to persuade their husbands to help me. Christ, that'll be the day. Until then I'm strictly on my own.
"Hartford's the name," a loud voice said beside him. "Iowa," he added proudly.
"Jeff Lee. I'm local."
"Just call me Bill, Jeff," he said.
One of those, Jeff thought. He'd met many men like Hartford during the last twenty years and had never been impressed with any of them, except perhaps by the excess weight they always seemed to carry around the middle. It was almost a badge of honor for men like Hartford to be fat, he thought.
Jeff looked right past Hartford's head as the overweight delegate talked to him. Full of information, Jeff snickered to himself. Probably doesn't do a Goddamn thing but talk. Probably talks to his hogs, too. Jeff didn't care to hear anything that Hartford said. He was too intent on spotting familiar faces of Wade Jackson's henchmen, all of whom he would know on sight, though none of them had ever seen him.
"Excuse me for interrupting, Bill," he said, grabbing the big man by the arm and shaking his hand. "But one of my fellow delegates has just waved at me. I think we have a caucus coming up."
"Yeah, I know how it is…"
But before he could finish Jeff had already left.
Across the room he had spotted Carl Pearson, Wade Jackson's right hand man. Seeing Carl, he knew that there was something lined up for the delegates already, and if he wanted more evidence he would have to find out where and when.
Keeping his eye constantly on Carl's bald head, Jeff shoved and wormed his way through the vast crowd of delegates who mingled around the main floor, talking, dealing or just plain standing. The way they make crowds, he thought, they must be doing it through a prearranged signal.
Suddenly breaking into the open Jeff watched Carl shake a man's hand and turn to leave. There's my contact, he thought, pulling a cigarette from his half empty pack. Well, here goes nothin'.
"Gotta light?" Jeff asked the man as he started to walk away.
"Oh," he said, surprised by the sudden intrusion on his private thoughts. "Sure, somewhere," he laughed, searching his pockets for a phantom book of matches. "Here."
Jeff took the pack and started to light his cigarette, reading the club name from the cover.
"This is a good spot," he asked, pointing at the name on the cover, a club he knew that Jackson owned.
"Hey, let me tell ya about this place," the man said, winking his much practiced sly old fox wink. "I was there last night, and Jesus, you shoulda seen the broads. Say, you aren't here with your wife, are ya?"
Lotta good that'd do me, Jeff thought wryly. "Nope, she's out of town."
The man looked at Jeff's delegate tag, surprised at the city.
"Hey, you're from here, huh? I'll bet you know a lot of good places."
"No, not really. I can never get rid of my wife long enough to catch any action."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, making his "you" sound like "choo". "But she's gone tonight," he continued, punching Jeff lightly in the ribs.
Jerk!
"I'm looking for some action," he said, trying to get irritated. "Maybe I should try that club on the matchbook."
"Oh, no," he said drawing out the words. "Tonight! Tonight there's gonna be some real action."
Jeff nodded showing his interest.
"I was just talking to a friend of mine, one of the guys who runs the club, and he's got a big bash set up for tonight. I mean booze, entertainment and girls, girls, girls," he finished, making an Eddie Cantor face.
"Sounds good," Jeff said, fishing for an invitation.
Jeff listened while the man gave him instructions, where to meet him, what time, etc.
Just before they parted he said, "We ought to get to know each other. I'm Jeff Lee."
"Right, Jeff. Bob Ferris," he put out his hand. "See you at nine, huh?"
"Great," Jeff answered, hoping this might be the break he was searching for.
At nine thirty the two men pulled up in front of a sprawling white mansion that housed thirty rooms. Jeff could hear the loud pounding of a drum as he got out of the car. In another minute he would be inside and could lose this creep. How the hell a guy like him ever got to be a delegate, he thought, I'll never guess in a million years how anyone could trust him with the political future of their country.
A butler in black tie waited for them at the open door and in a second they were inside. Without any trouble at all Jeff lost his companion and headed toward the music.
Before he opened the door to the room, he could tell that there was a striptease going on, or coming off, he thought with a sarcastic grin. The drum was beating the universal stripper's rhythm, a pounding monotonous beat.
Jeff slipped in unnoticed and walked through the dim red room to the opposite wall, where he sat on a large cushion as had the rest of the guests. Looking around he noticed a few familiar political faces, some of them women. Obviously the party was well planned, he noted as he searched the room. A lot of the older men were accompanied by strikingly beautiful young girls in their early twenties.
For the first few minutes he hadn't looked toward the center of the room where a magnificently built Cuban girl, about twenty was stripping. My God, he thought as he saw her. She's stolen Pam's body. A small wince of pain flashed through his chest when he thought of his wife. She had the same legs, the same hips, the same firm perfectly shaped breasts as the dancer, but never in a lifetime would she be able to lose her inhibitions and perform like that for him.
Jeff didn't like to think about Pamela's sexuality mainly because it was almost non-existent. Christ, he thought, what ever happened to her. He could remember the first time they had made love, a few weeks before they were married. He knew at the time that she was a novice, but he wrote it off to her being a virgin, something he thought strange, since she was twenty-seven at the time.
They had only made love once before they were married, and Jeff realized that something was wrong, but couldn't pinpoint it until a month after the wedding. Frigid, he thought. It was the only word that fit her. During the last three years he had done everything he could think of to help her change, but nothing had worked, and finally they had just stopped talking about it altogether.
But a man's a man, and he sometimes needs it any way he can get it, he told himself silently as he watched the stripper. She was about five-foot-three and dark, but other than that, the physical similarity between her and Pamela was a carbon copy. He watched her breasts quivering as she moved subtly around the circle in the center of the room, her hips in perfect unison with a slow, excruciatingly desirable act of sexual intercourse.
He tried to remember that she wasn't his wife, that she was a professional prostitute earning her living by taking her clothes off in front of a multitude of men and women.
Moving her eyes from man to man she continued to dance, undulating her hips, gesturing with her arms in such a way that every muscle in her long dark body would seem to twitch in unison. Her black hair swayed as she leaned her head backward, but all eyes were on her hands and not her head as she slipped her black half-slip from over her hips and exposed a tiny pair of panty briefs, smaller than any bikini Jeff had ever seen. She dropped the nylon to the floor and continued her dance, turning so that everyone in the room would be able to savor every inch of her sensuous flesh.
Jeff looked at her buttocks as she turned her back toward him, clenching the muscles in rhythm to the music as if she were conducting the drummer.
Just as she turned again to face him she slowly removed the two black pasties that covered her chocolate-brown nipples, completely exposing her rounded full breasts to his eyes. She looked directly at him as she danced, her hands toying for a moment with her breasts, then sliding down her torso slowly, stopping at her hips only long enough to grasp the brief panties and slowly ease them down her long firm thighs, revealing the small black triangle of soft pubic hair that covered the dampened lips of her vagina.
Pam, Jeff thought, replacing the stripper with his wife. If Pam could only be like you, for God's sake, what's your secret.
The stripper continued looking at the graying editor as he watched her, her muscles tense with desire as his eyes traced a path around her breasts and down her tummy to that tiny triangle of black curls between her legs. He was imagining his tongue in place of his eyes, but Goddamn it, he thought, I won't even get the chance.
Not taking his eyes from her, Jeff heard a voice say at his head, "Would you like a drink, sir?"
Jeff didn't answer.
"Perhaps there's something else," the too sweet voice of the young man said.
Mesmerized, Jeff still said nothing.
"The girl," the voice said. "Is that the one you want tonight?"
Jeff nodded.
"She's booked," the voice whispered, "But for the right price I can arrange her for you. You've obviously found what you want."
Jeff turned to him for an instant. "Fix it," he said and looked back at the girl.
He hated prostitution and anyone concerned with it, but Jeff had lost his battle. He had to have that girl to know what his wife could really be like. He had to have her!
She had turned her back to Jeff when he spoke to the waiter, and was slowly revolving in a small circle, tantalizing every man she looked at. But when her eyes met Jeff's she slowed almost to a stop, moving only her hips and holding her breasts out for his approval. There they were, two perfect nipples waiting for him to suck into his mouth, and pinch with his teeth.
His hands rested on his lap, gently touching the large bulge of his swollen penis, stroking it slightly. He felt it twitch as she leaned back, her head touching the floor, then with her free hands, running her fingers over her torso, along the insides of her long dark thighs to the pink open lips of her vagina. His throbbing cock was ready to burst as he watched her spread the moist lips through the soft pubic hair and open her pulsating vagina with both hands, and insert two fingers.
Jeff could hardly breathe as his hand gripped his thick cock. He watched her as the two fingers began to stroke in and out of her soft, finger-stretched pussy, one against the other. No person in the room made a sound, as they watched, the men with their hands underneath their companions' skirts, and the women gently stroking swollen cocks.
Slowly, to everyone's disappointment, she removed the two fingers and slid their long nails along her skin, around her buttocks to gently whisk her tightly clenched anus.
In a few moments it'll be over, Jeff thought to himself, relieved that she was going to stop before he went mad. Quickly, almost ashamed, he moved his hand from the swollen penis. Why do it myself when she can, he thought, and got up from his chair, looking about the room for the young waiter who signaled him that everything was ready.
Fine, he thought, and made his way through the crowd to the door. Pam can go fuck herself, he rationalized. For once since he had been married, he, was going to have a real woman.
"Hello," she said through bright red lips. "I'm Carmen."
"I know," he answered her, anxious to get her away from the crowd in the large living room. "Is there somewhere we can go now?"
"You're in a big hurry," she told him, her Spanish accent slipping through each word. "I've got a room upstairs, but we can only stay for a while." Seeing his expression she offered an alternative, "But if you want me for longer, I can do that too, at my apartment."
"Fine," he said, not wanting to talk until they were away from the house.
"But it'll cost you more," she said coyly, "Much more."
"Let's go," he said looking at her eyes. Except for the color, they had the same shape and size as his wife's eyes.
Twenty minutes later he inserted the key into her lock and stepped into her apartment. She does well, he thought as he looked about the room.
"In here," she pointed toward the bedroom door and walked in.
It's not real, he thought as he followed her into the large bedroom. She even walked like Pamela and he couldn't decide whether it was going to be easier or harder for him to climb into bed with her. She possessed every sexual quality that his wife lacked, but the resemblance was so great…
"How old are you?" he asked as she kicked off her shoes.
"Twenty, why, are you a cop?"
He told her no, but the word cop had reminded him of the job he had to do. Wade Jackson must be stopped, but oh God, what a price to pay, he thought, not wanting to wait.
"I'd like a drink first," he said as she began to unzip her dress.
"Whatever you say," she answered him in her sexiest Cuban voice.
They went into the living room and she fixed them both a drink, bringing his to him where he sat on the couch.
"You haven't even asked me how much," she said, wondering if he might be a very wealthy man.
He looked at her with his eyebrows raised, indicating a question.
"Three hundred," she said hesitantly. If he was rich, he would pay it.
"Three hundred dollars would have to buy a lot more than just a night in bed," he told her.
Oh brother, she thought, another weirdo. I wonder what tricks he likes?
"You're the boss, big man," she said trying to be cute.
"Where're you from," he asked without hesitating.
What's he gonna do, talk all night?
"I'm from Cuba," she answered, thinking that he wouldn't care what she said. "I've been in the States for a year."
Jeff continued questioning her for the next hour, and she slowly began to trust him, talking more freely as the drinks increased. She had barely escaped Castro's assassins three years ago when they had murdered her father. Hiding in the mountains she had gotten involved in an underground railroad operation and finally been able to escape to Miami.
But things for her in the United States hadn't been much better. All of her friends were educated people, but none of them could get jobs suiting their professional ability. Even her brother, who held an engineering degree, had to work in a service station. She had gone to work as a prostitute to help her family, all of whom were now in Miami, except for her parents, both of whom were dead.
"I remember," she said thoughtfully, "That we were a very rich family when I was young. But that gangster Castro and his thieves took everything, then killed my parents."
Her voice was sad, but no tears came to her eyes. This man liked to listen to her, she knew. Maybe he could do something to help her exiled people if he is a big politician like the rest of the men at the party.
Before she could say any more he interrupted, "Who do you work for now?"
The question caught her off guard and she answered immediately, suddenly afraid when she did. One of the basic rules of the girls who worked for Wade, was never to reveal his identity.
"You won't tell anyone, will you," she pleaded. "If you knew what would happen to me for telling you that I would be in very beeg trouble."
Jeff looked at her, trying not to see his wife. "We can help each other if you want to," he finally said.
Not understanding, Carmen just stared at him.
"It's very simple," he explained and began to tell her his story.
She said nothing as he talked, taking in every word. He explained that he was a newspaperman and what he was looking for with Wade Jackson. If she would cooperate with him, he would use his influence to advertise the problems of her friends in Miami, and help arrange suitable jobs for them.
For a moment after he had finished she only looked at him, then suddenly jumped across the couch and threw her arms around his neck, showering him with kisses.
"Oh, gracias, gracias," she exclaimed again and again in a sudden reversion to her native language.
Embarrassed at her display of affection for his offer, he tried gently to push her away, but the aroma of her smooth dark skin and the warmth of her breasts as they pushed against his chest brought back the tingling between his legs. Suddenly she was again the sensual creature that had nearly driven him mad when she stripped completely in front of all those people, then had used her fingers like he wanted to use his swiftly rising cock.
She kissed him again with a resounding smack and jumped off the couch and began dancing around the room on her toes. No one had ever offered to help her before, but this man would. She could feel it as she danced. Then, without his seeing it, she pulled at a pullaway zipper and suddenly stood holding her dress in her hands.
Jeff's mouth went dry as he gave up the battle. His wife could never be like Carmen, and right now he didn't give a damn. The tingling in his trousers had become a small blaze, and his swollen cock needed release from its imprisonment.
"A private dance just for you," she said with her eyes twinkling, and twirled around again.
Downing his drink and getting up to pour himself another, he watched her closely. What the hell, I can find out what I need to know later, he thought as he swallowed his drink and reached to pour another. He remembered her body from before, though he had known one exactly like it for three years, though his wife had never allowed him to see all of it in the light before. She was too much, and would probably drain him, he thought, but if it's going to be fast, then I'd better be able to do it more than just a few times.
Watching him, she reached behind her back and easily unsnapped her bra, letting it drop to the floor between her widespread legs. Her breasts jiggled in their freedom, displaying already taut nipples rising high and hard from their brown encirclement. They quivered as she slowly pulled her hands upward and covered them with her palms, rubbing small circles over the titillated flesh making her whole body tingle.
"You want?" she asked, still holding her round firm breasts with her hands.
"I want," he answered, feeling the animal fires burning in his loins.
There was no more Pamela, no real Pamela, he thought as the brandy and naked girl added to his sexual insanity. Carmen seemed to have his wife's face to go along with the body, but not enough so that he didn't know who was standing before him, offering him a sensual feast of sheer lust that he would not forget for a long time.
"Pants too tight?" she laughed, looking at the large bulge.
Without a word he began to strip, never taking his eyes from her as she quickly pulled her black half slip over her hips, exposing another brief bikini, carefully fringed with coal-black, silken pubic hair. He followed her fingers as they teased their way under the elastic leg band of her panties, moistening the tips between the damp pink lips of her pussy.
God I can't wait, he thought as he literally tore his shorts off freeing his massive swollen prick. It sprang up and bounced for a moment, then twitched uncontrollably, aching for the hair-lined pussy that waited for it five feet away. He was ready to burst, to come right now, but he had to wait, he had to get into that fiery cunt.
"Oh," she gasped when she saw his throbbing cock jutting out from his body. "It's so big, bigger than I have ever had," she lied. True, it was big, but not the biggest that she had had.
"Come here," he commanded, knowing that he could never say the same thing to his wife.
But his wife could not excite him like this girl could. His whole body was flushed as he waited for her, his breath short and strong. The second that she was within reach he grabbed her and pulled her to him, almost crushing her with his strength. She didn't resist, but molded her trembling body to his, wrapping one warm slim, well-tapered leg in between his and pushing the moistened black panties against his thigh. For the first time she too could feel the fires of desire rising between her legs.
"Ooohh," he moaned nearly delirious with passion as he touched her.
His cock rested tightly against her smooth flat stomach as they stood there. She could feel the boiling heat from the rubbery head almost burning her tender sensitive skin. White drops of warm semen leaked from the slit on the tip, moistening her body and she started to brush back and forth against it.
"Mmmmmm," she moaned as his hands searched her back, sliding to her buttocks and grabbing both cheeks hard, so that they quivered like firm jelly. Eagerly he jiggled them slightly, sending chills through her heated thighs.
His wife would have never submitted to even being touched on the ass, he thought, but you, you hot little bitch, you love it! She was his to do with as he pleased, and he would. He would fuck her and make her cry for more, then fuck her again. This was a woman!
"Ooohhh," she breathed as he slid his hands inside her panties and ripped them off her quivering buttocks. She could feel her heart beating in her bare bottom as he touched it, spreading and kneading the pliant flesh with his large hands, sending sharp tingling shocks through her abdomen.
Eager and hungry for her sex he slipped the fingers of one hand between the two soft round orbs of her backside, along the crack and down over the tight clenching ring of her anus until he slipped them into the wet trembling lips of her vagina from behind. Quickly they ran back and forth across the small hair-lined opening and through the quivering pink lips, reaching as far as they could until they tipped the hot erect bud of her aching clitoris.
"Oooohhhh, buena," she hissed through her white teeth. "Muy buena!"
Unable to hold back any longer she pulled back from him quickly and fell to her knees, immediately burying her face in the soft furry hair above his swollen balls. She kept murmuring as she kissed him again and again, excited by this man she had only just met. She knew she could please him by sucking his throbbing cock. That was the greatest submission ever for a woman and submit to this savior of her people she wanted to do.
Never before, he thought, as he felt her eager wet lips caressing the base of his pulsating shaft. Never before had anyone made him feel like this as he stood in the living room. His wife would never have thought of it, and no other woman he had ever known had even attempted to put her mouth on his massive cock.
"Oooohhhh," he moaned aloud as her hungry lips parted to allow her hard, pink tongue to lash out at the veins on the bottom of the throbbing prick, sending flashes of white hot electricity through his aching loins. He could hardly stand the ecstatic passion that she was causing as she gently licked the long rigid cock along its sensitive bottom until suddenly her mouth was nibbling at the very tip.
Holding it in one hand, eager to please, she parted her lips and placed the throbbing head against her teeth and lapped up the drop of burning sperm that hung heavily at the tiny, slit-like opening. She had sucked many men before, but none that she enjoyed, and this one she wanted to suck until he filled her mouth with his cum.
Slowly, spurred by his moaning, she eased the pulsating head into her mouth, while he nearly cried the delight, feeling like razor blades were slitting him open, and exposing his cock to eternity.
"Oh, God, you little bitch," he wailed. "Don't stop, don't stop, just keep sucking."
Incited by his shouting the lust-maddened young girl sank more of the swollen cock into her wet sucking mouth, stabbing at it with her tongue as she went and hoping that she would be able to swallow all of it. Her wet, burning pussy was ready to explode too as she felt him suddenly push his hips forward and grab her by the hair, forcing the entire throbbing prick deep into her throat.
"Ooooohhhh," he moaned again as the pressure in his balls strained to the breaking point.
Racing like wildfire, his tortured lust-ridden mind screamed for more; for her sucking mouth and for the fiery liquids that were flooding from her overexcited cunt. He could hear her moaning, and knew that he had to get down there, that he had to bury his face in the soft downy fur that covered her cunt and shove his tongue inside her.
"Up!" he commanded, but she didn't hear.
His hands still in her hair, he yanked her head away from his burning prick, scraping it with her teeth. But she didn't want to stop and tried to get her mouth back around the massive red head. She had been driven to sex-maddened heights and had no control over herself.
Suddenly she was in the air, looking at the floor. Thinking he was through, she started to fight him, wanting him to finish her before she died from the anguish. But a moment later she was sailing through the air and bounced onto the bed, followed right behind by the lust-crazed newspaperman.
He gave her hardly a chance to move as he grabbed her and rolled her soft brown body onto its back, then climbed upside down on top of her, his massive, tortured cock pulsing directly over her head, and buried his face in the hair-lined lips of her fiery cunt.
"Ooooohhhhh," she shrieked in ecstasy as he shook his head back and forth savagely. She felt as if his tongue and chin were tearing her to shreds, his chin rubbing her swollen red clitoris, and his tongue lapping at all the warm, sweet juices that flowed from her aching cunt. Faster and faster he shook his head, unable to control his desires, incited by her sexual screaming.
Her hips bucked and twitched while she screamed, her face contorted in a lust-crazed mask. Her body was slick with sweat as she fought for a climax that waited deep in her wet slippery pussy, waiting for release.
Above her head the pulsating blood-filled cock twitched in eager anticipation of her lips. Quickly she raised her head and grabbed it with both hands, scraping the tender skin with her fingernails. Without hesitating she opened her jaws as wide as she could and plunged the whole massive prick into her mouth at once, nearly choking. Tears of joy flooded from her cheeks as she sucked at the throbbing shaft, sucking each drop of seeping juices that trickled from the tip.
"Oh, oooohhh," he gasped, lifting his head as her tender red lips and hot hard tongue went lasciviously back and forth along the full hardened length of his huge twitching prick.
He held his head up and began to match her bobbing head with short strokes of his own, sinking his cock deep into her hungry throat. He dropped his head and looked back at her ovalled red lips, excited even more by the picture of the twenty-year old Cuban prostitute sucking voraciously at his jerking cock as he thrust it in and out of her saliva-filled mouth.
Panting in short hard breaths he lowered his head back to the juices that flowed from between her legs. His tongue shot out in search of the ragged pink mouth of her pussy, running quickly along the soft, hair-lined slit until he found the entrance and suddenly thrust the entire length of the hard wet shaft into her aching cunt. Burying his teeth against the quivering flesh of the pink lips he simulated a cock driving unmercifully in and out of her pussy.
"Oooooohhhh," she cried as the tongue drove into her fiery vagina, rotating in small circles inside, then withdrawing and driving in again. She had only seconds left as she felt the first spasms of climax building to release. More! she thought as she thrust her hips upward to meet the tongue and the bite of teeth. More! More! More…!
He could hear her moaning as she sucked at his twitching cock. He was ready now and didn't want to wait any longer. Quickly he ran one hand around her trembling buttocks and searched for the clenching ring of her tight little anus. His balls were about to burst, but with one final effort he found the tiny hole and teased at it with his finger.
That did it!
She could stand no more as the teasing finger at her rectum forced her into a spastic clenching rhythm that set off her climax, and she threw her hips high into the air and screamed, her lips still wrapped tightly around his thrusting penis.
"Oooohhh! I'm cummmmmiing…! Ooooooh Dios, I'm cumming!"
Too much, he thought wildly as the underside of his cock suddenly jerked spastically and he felt the first rush of sperm explode in his balls. No Pam, his mind screamed, no wife can do this, she can't, Pam can't do it! And he suddenly bellowed from the deepest part of his belly, "Auuugghhhhh, I'm cummminnngg too!!! Suck Baby! Suck!"
Like a huge firehose his wildly jerking cock pumped load after load of hot, gushing sperm into the young girl's mouth and she swallowed it as quickly as she could, wanting all of the burning liquid to fill her whole body. She would save it for later and give it back to him so that she and this savior of her people could wallow in each other's flesh all night long.
Exhausted, he fell upon her, his head still buried in the soft black hair between her widely splayed thighs. Well, Pammy, he thought. You'll never match that, never in a million years.