Robard couldn't control himself any longer. Even though she was still riding out the last spasms of her orgasm, he couldn't keep his prick inside her without coming. He whipped it out quickly and jutted his crotch forward. His balls pulled up tight to his rod as the first jerk sent his cum spurting out the slit onto her breasts.
Ryan moaned as the splatter of his hot cum rained down on her. She opened her eyes and watched his cock jerk and spurt out the sperm onto her skin. Her orgasm was subsiding into afterglow as his prick spurted one last jet of cum onto her belly.
Robard rolled over, exhausted, onto his side.
"Oh, Ry. I don't believe it, but it was fantastic. I don't think I've been so excited since I was a kid." He was breathing heavily, waiting to catch his breath and for his heart to begin to beat at a normal rate.
Ryan lay silent for a while, not knowing how to reply to what he had said. It had been good for her, a surprise, a pleasant one. But now she wondered why. She liked Robard, she admired his body, and appreciated the power of his maleness to excite her. But it was somehow not real. She needed a woman. And now, she thought to herself, she didn't have one.
What was it that brought gay people down to the Village, year after year, lured from all parts of the world? Dex couldn't find the words, but she could feel the undercurrent of magnetic force. Though the streets were quiet, the few strollers that she saw seemed alive in a special way. And curious. Curious to see behind the deadpan mask of her face.
Ordinarily, she would have responded with her own answering curiosity. But not tonight. She walked with a tight spring in her step, going west, toward the gathering places. The small eateries where girls sat at counters and waited for time to pass until it was late enough for action in the bars.
Dex peered in through window panes, hoping that she might find Morton. By some off-chance of luck, she might run into Morton and clue the girl in about Ryan's expected rampage.
Besides, there was nothing else to do. The prospect of sitting at a bar and waiting for the inevitable made Dex shudder. She had to do something active, no matter how futile it seemed.
She walked for an hour, circling widely and sauntering down the crooked, out-of-the-way streets. Then, out of desperation, she went to Morton's house.
It was against all the rules of order to visit Morton uninvited. The first time Dex had done so was the last. She could still hear the shrill voice of Morton's temper ringing in her head. Morton didn't like anyone to know the name or face of her current lover. Her home was her turf… Only Morton herself could prowl there.
Dex stood at the curb's edge and looked up along the zigzag line of fire escape to Morton's kitchen window which faced front on Thompson Street. Dex saw that the light in the kitchen was on.
But as she stood there preparing to take her life in her hands and go ring the bell, the light went off.
Dex smiled to herself at the happy coincidence. Fortune was favoring the brave. She flicked her glance from the window to the lobby entrance and stood there, in direct line, waiting for Morton to appear.
Dex saw Morton coming out alone.
Dressed in a cotton bush jacket belted tightly over faded jeans, Morton looked rich with mystery. She carried a large Aussie hat and began fitting it at a rakish angle as she reached the street.
The hat had never fooled Dex into believing that Morton was the supreme authority on the art of seduction. Yet she had to admit that Morton had a certain handsome charm. Tonight she carried a long-stemmed, artificial daisy. Dex knew that she was going to make a present of it to some unsuspecting girl. Probably, it was to be a peace offering.
"Hey there, Mort," Dex called and caught up with her as Morton turned down the block.
"Look who's here." Morton's grin beneath the wide-brimmed hat was like a pussycat lurking in the shadows.
The smile gave something away and put Dex on guard. Though she couldn't say why, Dex did not immediately blurt out the reason for her presence.
"Had dinner yet?" Dex asked, keeping in step with the clomp of Morton's boots.
"Just going for some. What're you doing out on a Sunday night?" She put the flower up beneath Dex's nose. "Looking for action?"
Dex winked back into the dark, searching eyes. Her personal troubles seemed stuck in a lump in her throat.
"No," she said. "Looking for friends. Old friends."
"Well, that's me," Morton said. "I guess you've been looking for me, huh?"
Dex sensed the undercurrent of laughter waiting beneath the seemingly innocent question. Morton might be far out but, obviously, she was nobody's fool. If Ryan had called her and spilled the beans, there was no sense in playing dumb and waiting for Morton to make the opening gambit.
"That's right, I'm looking for you," Dex said casually.
"What for?"
"I thought Ryan might be keeping you company."
"Where?" Morton replied sharply. "In my apartment? No dice, kiddo. I'm not swinging with your chick, if that's what you think."
Morton eyes flashed anger. She walked with a harder thrust of her heels to the pavement.
Dex looked at her curiously, unable to account for Morton's over-reaction.
"I didn't mean anything like that," Dex responded, mildly. "Now, you know what's going on. Why don't you give me a hand?"
Morton yanked at the brim of her hat. "I'm through mingling into people's affairs."
None of this was the reaction Dex had expected. Usually, Morton was the sympathetic and interested listener. It had been the secret of her popularity. This sudden, curt attitude put Dex off. And she had no patience to argue, no patience to be distracted from her own particular troubles of the moment.
"I guess I'll see you around then," Dex said abruptly, and started to walk off.
"Hey, wait a minute."
Morton grabbed Dex by the elbow. Dex clamped her teeth together. Summer was coming on, and the new, mild weather was driving everybody bats. That was the only way she could account for Morton's strange behavior… and her own.
"I'll tell you this much," Morton began, her tone conciliatory. "Ryan isn't the kind of woman to be fooled around with. I don't think I like what you're doing, Dex. After all, you were the faithful one. All these years, when it came to talking about stability, we always pointed at you. Now what are you doing?"
Dex shook her head. "I don't know, Mort. Maybe if you lived with a woman for thousands of years and suddenly something fresh and different came into your life…"
"Sure. Maybe. But Gena?"
Dex flung a fiery scowl into the depths of Morton's exasperated question. "Why do you say it that way?"
Morton tugged at her hat brim self-consciously. "Oh come off it, kid."
"Come off what?"
Morton exhaled a profound sigh. "You must know about Gena."
"I don't know any damned thing."
Morton bit down on her lip. She grabbed Dex's arm to stop her from crossing the street into a stream of traffic.
"It always happens to me. I always get stuck with having to spill the dirty beans. That's why I'm giving people up. For good."
"Stop blithering at me and talk," Dex demanded, her words clipped.
They reached the far side of the avenue. Morton paused at the entrance to a tiny bagel-specialty restaurant.
"That's what I want tonight – lox," Morton said.
Dex stopped dead in front of the restaurant window.
"You're not changing the subject."
Morton lifted her shoulders. "You want me to talk about your private life in there, where everybody can hear us?"
"Then tell me out here."
"I'm too hungry to think straight."
"That sounds like Gena's ploy."
Morton's lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Well, she could have gotten it from me."
Instantly, Dex knew what Morton was implying. And, for no reason Dex could describe, there seemed something desperately filthy in the notion of Gena sleeping with Morton.