He kept on jerking and backing. Every time he tried and his pecker didn't move, he half yelped, then whimpered and looked at me as if I were just hanging onto him out of spite. He pulled harder, really putting his shoulders into pushing away from the lounge, and my arms came loose from their trap.
"No!" I yelled, but it was too late. Maybe it wouldn't ever have been on time.
He pulled me right off the lounge. I tumbled under him, my cunt crushed tight against his sheath and my legs in the air over his back and my shoulders resting on the floor. The tension inside my pussy was fierce! I locked my ankles over his back again and took the weight off his pecker and my twat. And the sonofabitch started backing all over the sun porch with me!
I groaned. Oh, you dirty bastard! I thought. I know that guy next door can see your back when you go near the window! And there my feet are, hanging on! What's he going to think about that! Maybe it didn't matter. What mattered was how long it was going to be before I'd get off his cock. Or maybe how long it was going to be before I'd have to scream for help and some dirty-minded Goddamn doctor was going to have to give Gunner a shot to make his cock shrink!
I didn't laugh any more. I just cried. And he just dragged me around. He was getting frantic, too! He was stepping over me and trying to walk forward and making my body twist into impossible shapes and scaring hell out of me!
I got so panicky and so exhausted with my legs clamped around him the way they were – and that monstrous, iron-rod cock still levering around in the middle of my belly and its unbelievable knot hung up at my cunt-mouth – that I began to think I was going to faint! If you do…! I warned myself. You faint, you stupid bitch, and he's going to yank all your guts right out through your snatch!
But before I came that close to losing consciousness, I did feel a tiny twitch of movement at my cunt-rim. There was just the faintest sensation of slipping. I gasped and tightened the grip of my legs; anything I could do to help that awful swelling on his pecker to go down was worth doing! And little by little, it did shrink, until I finally began to slip off his cock.
Jesus! What a marvelous feeling! I thought. Better coming out than going in! It seemed like a lot longer dick, too. It kept coming out and coming out and coming out until I wondered if I'd had the head in my mouth! But I finally was able to let go all the way with my legs and drop to the floor. And Gunner could step back and eye me with an injured expression. And his Goddamn pecker actually touched the floor!
Well, I was maybe more exhausted than I'd ever been in my life, but I scrambled out from under him and across the sun porch and into the bathroom in record time! I left him while he was flopping down and starting to lick his cock… probably asking it if it realized what it had gotten into.
CHAPTER SIX
There was one more moment of panic before I got into the shower. Actually, I wasn't quite out of the sun porch. I was scurrying along as fast as I could go on all fours with my butt in the air when I thought I heard the hall door open and close.
Good God! I thought. They're going to see me this way! And then, I thought I locked that…! Oh, of course. Will had to unlock it to get out.
I made it into the bathroom without whoever it was seeing me. And nobody called to me or anything, so I decided they must have gone away. That didn't mean I wasn't careful when I finished drying off. I wrapped our biggest towel around me and scampered around getting my clothes. But if anybody had come in, they were gone.
I had to go to work before Mark got home from fishing. And he was asleep by the time I got home at twelve-thirty Sunday morning. I'd had my usual ring-around-the-rosy, trying to keep out of Duane's reach. It would have been nice to have somebody's shoulder to cry on.
So I climbed into bed and tried to pretend the pillow was Eric's shoulder and he'd get up and go over to Duane's apartment and call him into the hallway and beat the shit out of him. By the time I'd run that one through with six different kinds of variations it was a dream instead of daydreaming and it was morning and time to get up. Gunner was right there when I rolled out of bed and pulled off my pajamas, but the first time he shoved his nose at me I put him straight.
"What are you? Some kind of fiend or something? You're crazy as hell if you think you're going to drag me all over the floor again! Shove off, buster!"
Mark showed up at the door to his bedroom, his hair all tousled and his eyes mattering. "Who ya talkin' to, sis? Somebody been dragging you someplace."
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Go wash your face with cold water! You're not even awake yet, Marky!"
"Nmmph…! Guess not. Woulda swore I heard you talking to somebody, though."
I had to giggle, he looked so awful. He turned around, then stopped.
"Funny, sis. Shoulda heard Eric last night."
"Huh! What about Eric? What about him?"
"Jeez, you shoulda heard him. Nancy made some kinda crack and he looks up from his plate an' says, 'Were you there?' So she turns red an' says, 'Me? A place like that?' all snotty-like. An' he says, 'Well, how do you know, then? Ought to watch out; they've got laws about talking about people.' She's fit to be tied, but Will – y'know, he's kind of a slob, sis – anyhow, Will grins around a big mouthful o' spaghetti an' says, 'Yeah, man! Only ain't no sweat! Y'oughta seen her when…'"
I just about died right there. I knew what Will could tell them!
But Mark went on. "All of a sudden Will quit talkin'. Eric's starin' at 'im real quiet, like he's got an iceberg up 'is butt. An' when Will's voice peters out, Eric says, 'Sometimes they don't have time for the law to settle loose talk. Sometimes somebody just gets tired of a big-mouth and does something about it on the spot.' An' then he looks down at his plate an' mutters. Maybe he wants me to hear, I don't know. He says, 'Seems like she's a damn sight better than most; at least she doesn't have a mouthful of garbage to tell about everybody else."
"He said that? Marky, he really said that?"
"Yeah. Too low for anybody else but me to hear. But he said it."
Well, let me tell you! I was floating on air! When I started downstairs and Duane stuck his head out into the hall and asked me if today was the day I just told him to go fuck himself and kept right on going. I couldn't help hearing his voice, though, all low and poisonous.
"Can't help feeling this is going to be the day," he murmured. "Got to get rid of some of that sass."
There was something utterly self-confident ringing in his voice, as if he already had me all tied up in his apartment. It was such a distinct quality I shivered all over. And there was Eric, right at the bottom of the stairs! I was running down them so fast I nearly ran over him. He reached out as if he thought he was going to have to catch me, but when he saw I wasn't going to lose my balance he pulled his hand back.
"Kill yourself that way, someday." He growled at me.
"Eric!" I was all out of breath and scared. "Eric, please!" Even then I didn't dare say anything louder than a whisper.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I… Duane… I mean…" I kept trying to catch my breath.
He seemed to be withdrawing. I mean, he didn't really move or anything, but it was like pulling a shell shut around himself. Maybe that was what Mark had meant when he'd said "an iceberg up his butt".
I tried again. "He's going to do something awful! Eric, he really is! I have to keep running away from him at the alleys and he just said… I mean…" I got hold of myself and made the words quit tumbling over each other. "Eric, he did! He just stuck his head out and whispered something about today was the day! He's going to…!"