Eno rose with alacrity; the same kind Keith had shown when he felt remorseful about drugging his aunt. It was then that Eno saw the blood. There wasn't much of it, but it was blood. It was on Yam; it was on the cunt Yam had just fucked. "Oh, my god!" Eno exclaimed. "Yam's ruptured her!"
Eno shoved Yam back into his pants and went hastily down the three flights of stairs to Apartment 3-C. He knocked on the door. Doris Classman opened it.
"Why, Eno," Doris said. "What is-the matter with you? You're white as a ghost!"
"Is the doc in? Is he here?" Eno blurted out.
"Gab?" Doris said. "Why yes he's here. I'll call him."
Doris left Eno standing by the door and called, "Gab-somebody wants to see you. It's Eno."
Gabriel Monthor came to the door. "Christ," he said, "you look awful, Eno!"
Eno motioned Gab to come out into the hall. "I went up to Miss Thorne's apartment-she's in trouble!"
"Take it easy," Gab said. "What kind of trouble?"
"She's lying on the floor!"
"So?"
"She's on the floor unconscious, doc!"
"Why why didn't you say so, man?"
"She's in trouble, doc!"
"Go back to your elevator," Gab said. "I'll take a look."
He walked rapidly to the exit and went up the stairs two at a time. He pushed the door open and almost ran to where Conchi lay on the floor. He squatted down and felt her pulse. He opened one eyelid.
"Drugged," he said to himself. He diagnosed the case as one that time alone would heal. And having reached his verdict he let pleasure flood him as he looked at Conchi with unprofessional admiration. At last he realized that he was alone in the room with the belle of the apartment house-and she was all laid out, ready to be fucked!
"Well, damn my black soul," he said aloud. "He screwed her and ran down to get me."
Gab knelt down between the fine legs and felt the hair on the pubic region. He thumbed the fat lips apart to watch the semen ooze from the vaginal passage. He saw the flecks of blood on the twat. Can't be, he mused. He examined the cunt more closely.
"Well, damn my black soul!" Gab said, "There isn't enough blood to say the old bastard punctured her-so she must have been a virgin!"
With quick decision Gab rose and went to the foyer. He closed the door, making sure the faulty lock caught. His cock was on its way up so he took it from his slacks and walked with it in his hand back to Conchi.
"Man," he said to himself, "you're a lucky stiff!"
Gab knelt down again between Conchi's legs. He talked to her. "Woman, you are about to get a black cock shoved right into your guts!"
His hard prick made an easy entrance into Conchi's Yam-ravaged cunt. Gab placed his body on top of Conchi's and without using his hands he pushed his long prick against her cunt. He felt the deliciousness of penetration as all eight inches of the shaft responded to the pressure of Gab's hips. He could feel the head pushing against the wall of the pocket below the uterus.
With slow and measured movements Gab's prick fucked the red-lined hole that had never felt a cock in it. Now Gab didn't use his very precious talent of being able to hold back his orgasm. He fucked Conchi with pleasurable relish. He had dreamed his dream again and again with no hope that one day it would come true.
Soon he began to feel the contractions that would propel his sperm into Conchi's unmoving box which, until only a very short time ago, had been as clean as a washed cherry.
Gab began grunting like a pig until his heavy breathing changed the grunts into one big word: "Bitch!" he said as his fluid poured out against the cavity wall.
"Bitch!" he said again. But this time he said it lovingly. He moved so he could plant his lips on Conchi's. He put his tongue into her slack mouth and let some of his saliva wet the dryness inside. He continued to tongue Conchi's mouth with enough French kisses to float her tongue. In instant thought he knew he had to get out of the apartment. There was a chance she might become conscious; then all hell would break loose for him.
Gab wiped his softening cock on Conchi's blue robe and left the apartment. Eno, with the elevator door open, was waiting for him. "How is she, doc?" he asked.
Gab entered the elevator. "She'll be all right. Don't worry. I put her to bed," Gab lied. He looked Eno square in the eyes. "She's been drugged," he said.
"Drugged?" Eno said.
"Yes, drugged," Gab said. "And I found traces of semen on her vulva; blood too. Did you screw Miss Thorne, Eno?"
"Not me," Eno said too quickly. "Not me! I only felt her pulse and then skiddled down after you!"
"Really?"
"I didn't fuck her!" Eno lied.
"I'll bet you didn't," Gab said sarcastically.
"I wouldn't touch that nice woman," Gab said.
Eno opened the elevator door on the third floor. Gab said, "It will be better if you don't mention this to anyone, understand?"
"Long's you say she's okay," Eno said, "I'll just keep my mouth shut."
Gab patted Eno on the shoulder. "I still think you screwed Miss Thorne, Eno."
"How'd I know you didn't, doc?"
"You don't anymore than I know you did." Gab stepped out of the elevator. He said, "She certainly made a man feel like screwing her."
"Ain't that the truth, doc?"
Chapter 19
Frank Kazarra carried his bag to the lot where his Cadillac was parked. It was dusty from exposure during the days Frank had been in Los Angeles.
The flight back had seemed long, but Frank felt little fatigue. He had closed an exciting deal that could net him close to two hundred thousand after taxes.
Some years before he had gone in with other developers on a Laguna Beach condominium project, which was now paying off handsomely. Frank now felt that he and work could part company. He had gained enough to take it easy from here on in. He could travel, play golf, and screw. The last made Frank restless. He had reached the age when a bachelor should settle down with a woman who could make him feel pleasant all the time.
He had had his share of women but the lust for sex was not a pressure at fifty as it had been at twenty-five. He liked to fuck and he did. But he wanted a change from Phyllis Reger and Holly Martin, despite the black girl's expertise and the fact that he had fucked his secretary in the ass.
It had surprised Frank how often the image of Conchi Thorne entered his mind. His encounter with her just before his trip to L.A. was no doubt the cause. What a woman, he thought.
Conchi had been his tenant now for several years, yet never before had he thought of her in the way his sense of lust was now at work. The call he had made to her apartment had placed the Thorne woman in a new light.
She had been embarrassed when he saw her half naked in that filmy robe. It turned Frank on to think about Conchi's embarrassment; and he was intrigued by the nude photos of herself in the living room. What the hell would she have them for? he thought.
Frank knew Conchi was a professor, an intellectual, but by god she had shown herself to be a woman for all that. So what if she was his age? There hadn't been any sag in the flesh she had shown him, unwillingly. She could give him all a young girl could; and then something more precious besides.
It was these thoughts on his ride back to the city that made him want to see Conchi again. He decided to call on her as soon as he put his bag in his own apartment. His excuse would be to check to see if the electrician had done a good job. He hoped in his lust-filled mind that she would be dressed in her filmy robe.
It was afternoon when Frank reached the apartment building. Eno was in the elevator, looking somewhat sickly. "Hi, Eno," Frank said. "Don't you feel good?"
Eno mumbled a greeting. He was still numb from his exciting encounter with Conchi Thorne.
"Et something don't agree with me. You goin all the way up, Mr. Kazarra?" Eno asked.