"Nathan Warner at the piano," the sign out front of the Mon Cherie entrance read. Four 8 X 10 glossy photographs were pinned to the cardboard sign. They showed a handsome, sun-bleached, blond, sensual-lipped young man in various poses; his full professional smile revealed capped Hollywood teeth, for which he was still paying and
would be for a long time to come.
Nathan Warner, the piano player at the Mon Cherie Lounge on upper La Cienega Boulevard in Hollywood, was handsome in a way that appealed to women, both young and old. But he was primarily concerned with making a few bucks extra in tips above the ten dollars that Buck Pappas, owner of the cocktail bar, paid him for each night's stint. Any amount would help keep him in Hollywood on his single track objective to become an actor.
Tonight he was angry with everyone and everything. He'd had only one brief break, and he wasn't getting many tips. Perhaps it was most appropriate, for this was the night when it all began; for Nathan Warner, at least, at the Mon Cherie, where the events started that brought him to his ultimate damnation; to what Nathan Warner, especially, would call an existence bordering hell and beyond.
Fifteen minutes till quitting time, the door opened and a well-dressed party came into the club. Buck Pappas hopped over to greet them, beaming, and got two tables together for them over in the corner close to the piano. There were ten in the group, Nathan counted. They were drunk from another club and here to raise hell, with no money left for tips. Regular bastards. He knew the type. He sorted the new party out into couples and noticed a small woman with her back to him. What a shape! She seemed to be with the bald-headed drunk to her right who was doing all the ordering.
Then -he saw her face in profile: Oriental-maybe Japanese or Chinese? Maybe Spanish or Mexican!
He couldn't tell. He started playing show tunes,
beginning with Gypsy.
He was curious, The woman had dark hair and there was something about her that was incongruous with the rest of the group. He aimed the music at the women. He heard her laugh. She said something across the table to another woman. He picked up what he thought was an accent. Maybe she was French, but he hoped she was Japanese.
He caught a good look at the woman's profile and saw the makeup. He guessed her to be over thirty-five. She was small and dark, but he still could not tell whether she was Japanese. This woman must have been a real beauty in her day, he thought.
He calmly decided to find out if she was Japanese or not. He chorded into the first minor chords of China Nights, a. tune any Japanese girl would know.
Nothing registered. But she looked around, smiling, her eyebrows raised. He could see that she wasn't Oriental definitely some French or Spanish blood. She looked directly at him, turned and put the back of her chair to listen. The music was different, lie could seethe careful eye make-up: It was the eyes that had given her an, Oriental look.
That was when Nathan Warner first saw the stone on her right band. God, what a diamond, he Thought.
The woman turned back and said something to her companions. They were all prosperous-looking. She probably was their guest, Nathan figured. And somehow she knew the tune was for her. She looked back again at Nathan, got up and came over to the piano bar, sliding onto a stool to his left. His best side.
He finished the song, looking directly at her, using his eyes. She opened her purse, pulled out a bill and put it in the tip glass on the bar top. A ten spot. He flinched. The jackpot. He smiled at her,. showing his capped teeth. He was trying.
"Hello," he said.
"Hello," she replied huskily. "What's your name?"
"Nathan Warner," he said. "It's on the marquee outside. What's yours?"
"You can call me Paulette."
"Are you from Europe or America?"
"Can't you guess from my accent?"
"No, I can't," he said. "I thought you were Japanese!"
She laughed. "I know, because you played a Japanese song."
He was surprised. "Not many American women would know that."
"I've traveled. Europe. Japan. Now I'm here."
"Alone?"
"Certainly. Why not?"
He knew it was too early to ask, but he wanted to know. "Over there. Your husband?"
She put her fingertips to her lips and broke into
tinkly laughter. The big ice was right in front of his eyes. I belong to myself," she said, "and my husband is dead.
"What about men?"
"I have them," she said, straight and direct. "I like young men she said.
"That's good," he said. "Means I've got a chance."
His boyish charm came on strong.
"Of course," she said, matter of factly. "You're nice-looking."
He was silent, then he asked her quickly, "Are you visiting somewhere or what?"
"No, I'm staying at a hotel."
"Where?"
She didn't answer, but smiled sweetly. He got the point. Okay, he'd play it her way. He fingered some background chords. "That group over there.. You with them?"
"They're people who knew my husband. He was in the oil business. Texts oil. Ranchland Oil. You may know the company.
Who didn't? Nathan thought. He had to play it right now.
"Of course you have to remain with their party," ha said, "since they were associates of your husband." He was really asking a question, but she was already ahead of him
"I'll set away," she said and leaned forward to touch his lips with the tip of her soft fingers. That ring was directly in his view. It was all he could do to hold her gaze and not stare at the diamond. "I
wanted to get away from them in the first place," she admitted. Then she added, "Didn't you know?"
And that was how it started.
Later, Nathan Warner lay naked on the bed in her Beverly Hills suite. That was where it turned out she was staying. What the hell? Nancy could worry about her own hangups tonight, he was thinking.
Paulette had wanted him undressed and she. wanted a bath. So he lay there and watched her through the open door of the tiled bathroom, waiting He was anxious.
Paulette took her time. She dried ceremoniously, then came out of the bathroom nude. Her skin was a light bronze. She was skinny enough and not flabby. Her legs were marked by little blue veins. She kept her tits pushed high with one arm. They were starting to sag, but they were still all there.
What she must have been at one time! Nathan thought. She moved slowly across the pile carpet to the bed. Her feet were bony and bare, and there was something very sensuous about them. She stopped beside the bed and looked down at him. She dropped the small towel.. Nathan was looking at her, reveling in the daintiness of her body. This woman had him going, and how.
"You're looking at me," she said.
"That I am. Your body is beautiful."
She was looking at him, too, in eyes examining all of his body. He knew that all of her very being
was beckoning for him to touch her. He reached up and cupped her hips with his hands. He felt them twitch slightly. She still wore the diamond ring. Nathan turned and reached for the bedlamp switch to turn it off.
"No," she said. "Keep the light on. I want to see you make love to"
"Sure," he said huskily. "I'm for that too." He reached for those beautiful tits and felt them. The two tips hardened, and she breathed heavily. He pulled her down and their lips met. Her thighs were touching his and her tits were flat against his chest. She pressed hard up against his stomach. His cock was pulsating. She understood and raised her ass, as if searching for his hard prick. He could feet the vibrant trembling of her body, yet she seemed to hesitate.
She suddenly twisted to one side and lay down alongside him. She half raised herself on one elbow and. ran her hands over his chest and stomach, moving her hands lower and lower Then she did a curious thing. She lifted and shifted her position bent his left leg up
and stroked the kneecap.
"Why that?" Nathan asked.
"Because I remembered something.' She shivered. Her eyes were now deep and burning, like oval pools of bloodshot amber. "Make love to me," she whispered. "All over."
Her lips were parted and he kissed her. A moan gurgled in her throat. He knew now what to. He
moved his lips over to the tip of her left tit, then kissed it. She held him tight and twisted her body; she had a strange look in her eyes.
Goose pimples prickled along his spine. He couldn't recall any woman who had responded so passionately. He suddenly wanted to oblige her in everything. The soft quivering of her feminity urged Nathan forward. Her passion was contagious. She pushed his head downward and he smelled the fresh-skin fragrance of her bath.
"Force me," she whispered. Her breathing increased, and he knew what she wanted and that she was near. Suddenly, he wanted her to have it his way. Really wanted her to.
Her entire body went straight, then bowed. Slowly, hesitantly, she spread her legs and then straddle his head. His tongue shot into her cunt, grinding against her gash.. She moved frantically
as he rubbed his hands on her tits, his fingers pinching the erect nipples while he groaned into the hollow of her seeping snatch. His sucking became a simmering hysteria, and now he could fee! the thrill of her ass-hole tightening around his finger.
His hands slid beneath the cheeks of her ass, squeezed them, parted them, helped them to bob up and don on his lapping tongue, and all the while her hips were moving in a steady fucking motion beneath him, steadily increasing in fanaticism.
"Mmmmmm, love it, love it! Gonna eat you alive!" he moaned into her cunt. She could feel his
whiskers rasping, against her clit as tongue probed again and again into her juicy cunt, his teeth gently biting now and then at the fleshy outer lips.
Nathan was still munching between Paulette's thighs, his head bobbing back and forth, and it looked. like she was about to go crazy. She was slack, mouth open, tongue hanging out. Nathan's cock was stiff, thick and pulsing, and her eyes found it like it was a lost lover. She began to gobble at his prick frantically, plunging her little nose into his crotch bush, twisting her head as she licked up and down. Nathan just kept on sucking at her sopping gash, sucking the juices from deep in her fuck-hole. He felt her shudder and beard her growling on his prick like a lunatic.
Then Paulette rolled over, straddled Nathan and sank down on his cock. She sat there, quite still, his cock deep inside her cunt. Then, little by little, she became amass of groans and graceful whimpers as her taut and clamping cunt poised and strained, receiving again and again the hard length of his prick, every joyful inch of it.
Nathan was now jamming, stuffing, sludging his long, hot cock up her cunt until it slammed into the end of her hole. His prick went in right to his balls basking in the warm juice rushing everywhere inside her horny cunt, and he knew that she was ready again.
Paulette clutched and pressed her legs around his haunches, jamming his prick firmly inside her cunt again as Nathan fucked her with all his might. He
roamed his hands again over the pushy tits and Paulette came again, pumping her ass in fresh hunger, wanting still more. He could see an inner glow lighting this strange woman's face, and her smooth, round, resilient tit-flesh began to heave even faster. The rich crimson of her cunt stretched round the base of his cock, holding it, and her nostrils flared. Her knees were drawn up high and she screamed when his hot jizz gushed into her cunt in a flood, and new moans rose, rolled upward and echoed in one stifled gasp.
Her chin came forward on her chest, watching. Her expression was like none he had ever seen. It was a thing that came in waves for her, like tides coming in and out. Her, cries echoed in the room. A subconscious sense of fear ran up his spine.
Now he worked alone and relief was fast coming and short-lived, pleasant and easy and a solitary letdown to the passion she had stirred within him. There was now no mutual response from her. He didn't mind. Lying there, both their emotions spent, sleep came to her first.
Her legs were entwined with his and he cupped a lit with one hand. He felt serene and comfortable and secure, and momentarily put all thoughts of tomorrow out of his mind. When he drifted off to sleep, the light was still on.
And that was the very way it was the first night Nathan Warner, the Mon Cherie piano player, spent with Mrs. Paulette Du Bois, the widow of the founder of. that post World War II business phenomenon, Ranchland Oil of Houston, Texas.