Kim kept on working on her puzzle.
"Well, don't you have anything to say?" Curt snapped.
"No," Kim said softly, still believing that any moment he would confront her with the shame of what she had done this morning.
"Well, I'm going to bed," he announced, getting up. "Some of us have to work. I've had a hard day. Turn off all the lights before you come." And Curt vanished prematurely into the bedroom as he had almost every night for the past month, purposely going to bed alone so that he could be asleep when she got there and would not be expected to perform as a husband. And when he was gone, Kim bowed her head, choking back her tears, and tried to fit another piece into her puzzle.
About midnight, when she was much to tired to stay up any longer, she straightened up the house so that it would be clean when Curt arose, and it was then that, when she picked up her purse to put it in its place, the contents spilled out on the center of the threadbare carpet. Kim knelt down to pick up the cracked plastic compact, the almost depleted lipstick tube, and the other old and pitiful things she kept to groom herself. That was when she found the envelope.
She was very curious and apprehensive all at once. How had this gotten here? Very carefully, she opened the envelope and took out the contents. She counted the three hundred-dollar bills, slowly, unbelieving. And then she unfolded the piece of memo paper that had been doubled over just once and wrapped around the bills. It was from Ike, but she had sensed that as soon as she saw the money.
The note read:
Here's a few hundred as a well-earned bonus. It won't be the last. Just remember what's at stake for you. Get a new dress and be at my office by eleven tomorrow morning.
Ike
Kim read the note carefully once more, then tore it in tiny pieces and flushed them down the toilet. She kept the bills in her tightly closed fist, and a wry smile touched her lips for the first time in a week. Perhaps it hadn't been such a bad day after all. And the phone bill would be paid tomorrow, along with the rent.
Chapter 3
Curt Stevens had to admit that he was distinctly confused at what Ike Harvey had just told him. When he received the summons to come to the old man's office, he was sure that the boss had finally learned the identity of the young man who had insulted him in the elevator some time before and that now it was time to receive his notice of dismissal and clear out his desk. But Ike Harvey had been unaccountably amiable and had told Curt that he was interested in his qualifications and asked him if he would care to take an advancement exam for a possible "change" he had not said "promotion," but "change" of position, and perhaps go on a business trip to Colombia the following week.
Curt stood up and reached across to shake Ike's big, tough hand. "I don't think you'll regret giving me this chance, Mr. Harvey. I graduated with honors from my university and I'm an expert in import and export practices."
"Well that's what these exams are for," Ike said. "To make sure you're up on all that. We can't afford any screw-ups."
"I understand, sir," Curt said positively. "I'll show you what I can do."
Ike walked him to the door. "We'll fix the test for you for sometime in the next few days, and, with a good result, you'll be off for Colombia for a couple of weeks."
They shook hands again at the door and Curt turned and walked out past Harriett, Ike Harvey's pretty young red-haired secretary. Wait 'til Kim hears about this, Curt thought. He felt his spirits rising for the first time in months.
As Curt was walking away, Ike closed his office door and walked to his desk, sitting in the large chair where he spent most of his time, making the legitimate decisions and plotting the illegitimate deals that were the icing on his financial cake.
Reaching just under the lip of his desk, he turned a small knob
until the sounds from the speaker in the wall became audible to him. He could make out the voices of the two people, the wheezing groans and grunts of the obese Henry Manson, Ike's partner in the company. He could picture the bullet-headed, shiny-pated, red nosed, sixty-year-old roue thrashing in ecstasy. Hank would be owing him a big one after this.
But he didn't have to use his imagination. Ike pushed a button under his desk and the curtain on the wall before him automatically drew back and, through the two-way mirror he could see into the room beyond. The opposite wall of the room was also partially covered with another two-way mirror beyond which Hank himself could observe the same room from his own office.
The room itself was comfortably furnished with two stuffed chairs and a love seat, flocked wallpaper and thick warm carpeting. A king-sized canopy bed with satin sheets dominated the center of the room where Henry Manson was taking his pleasure. The bowling ball of his head was bobbing up and down as he was poised propped up on his straight arms and knees, his huge belly hanging beneath him, his fat gelatinous buttocks quivering as they rose and fell. His white, thick penis was plainly visible as it thrust back and forth inside the tender vagina of the beautiful blond girl beneath him. The labia were spread wide apart and doubled over on either side of the penetrating cock and the testicles, as large as golf balls, swung in their loose sac, colliding repeatedly with the sensitive anal area between the girl's wide-spread buttocks, widely separated as her thighs were opened to their utmost to accommodate Manson's wide hips and jiggling ass cheeks.
Kim Stevens' face was turned toward Ike, her creamy cheeks flushed with passion, her eyes half-closed and seeing nothing. Her mouth opened and closed as she gasped for breath and her labored breathing pushed her breasts up against Manson's flabby chest so that they bulged out at the sides. She mewled and sighed with each stroke of Manson's fat cock as she jacked her knees back high and wide, her heels digging into his heaving backside. Ike could hear the slap of his balls in the cleft of her bottom and of his fat belly against hers, and the slurping sounds of his cock in her cunt.
Ike could see they were both close to finishing. Kim's voice was rising in pitch and Hank's grunts were deepening in urgency. Ike knew how Manson felt fucking that girl's sweet, silky little pussy. It was heaven.
Kim began squirming up wildly against the fat man fucking so avidly into her cunt, her fingertips digging into his shoulders, as her whole body began shaking, and as her tight pussy clamped down on the fucking cock, Manson began thrusting frantically, groaning and coming, filling her with his seed.
Manson collapsed over the girl's vibrating body. Ike could see a bit of creamy, white sperm leaking out of Kim's pussy where the penis lay softening and shrinking, while the fat man lay groaning over the young girl's panting body.
Ike moved the curtain back in front of the mirror and spoke into his intercom. "Harriett, darling, would come in here, please?"
The pretty redhead came through the door almost immediately.
"I'd like you to have Kim come in to see me when she's ready. Can you do that for me?"
Harriett smiled. "She's not through for today?"
Ike said, "Not yet, sweetheart. Khumalo is coming in today and I'd like him to be well entertained after lunch. Make us a reservation for three at Dino's, please. And make doubly sure that Curt Stevens isn't anywhere near either the restaurant or this office. You know what I mean?"
"Exactly. Do you have any suggestions."