"I don't take your shirts to the Chinese laundry any more," Olivia reminded him. "I switched to a regular laundry a month ago after you accused that poor Chinese delivery man of trying to garrote you."
"I remember. He was a member of the cult. They're all members of the cult."
"What cult?"
"The stranglers' cult. They worship this devil-god. Kali, I think it is."
"I saw that movie. That's India. Not China."
"Same thing," Mortimer insisted. "China. India. The Yellow Peril's all over Asia. Just biding their time to wipe the white man off the face of the earth. Sneaky little yellow-bellies! Gonna do it slow! Torture us by slow choking. Insidious. Each time a little more starch until-" Mortimer screwed up his face and let his tongue loll out of his mouth.
"Don't do that." Olivia shuddered. "You look like a corpse."
"That's what I mean."
"But I told you, we don't use the Chinese laundry any more. I switched. Now our laundryman's somebody named Levine."
"Aha! I knew it! Those yellow Kali killers are tied in with the Zionists! If they can't get you one way, they get you another. Let me tell you-"
When you're insane, everybody's Jewish, Olivia reflected to herself as she tuned out Mortimer's tirade. His words were mere garbled noises washing over her. She ignored them as she considered what the cocktail date with Arch might be like.
It was like being single again. Olivia hadn't been with Arch more than ten minutes the next day before she reached that conclusion. The way he treated her was the way men had treated her when she was unmarried, before she'd lost her teeth. And Olivia found herself liking it. She liked it a lot.
The stream of compliments he directed toward her threw her off balance. Washing them down with a second and then a third cocktail did nothing to restore that balance. By the time she was on her fourth, Olivia didn't even feel the need to pretend that she minded his hand under her dress, squeezing the thigh-flesh just above her stocking-top.
"I just can't believe you're Mortimer's wife," he was saying for the umpteenth time. "How the hell did a girl like you ever happen to marry him, anyway?"
"A momentary apparition," Olivia answered. She giggled. "I mean aberration," she explained.
"But you're a beauty!"
"That's nice to hear." Olivia allowed his hand to explore higher.
"Your figure! Your face! Your eyes! Even your teeth! Do you know you have absolutely perfect teeth."
"They should be," Olivia muttered under her breath. "I paid enough for them."
"What?" Arch hadn't been able to distinguish her words.
"Nothing. Go on with what you were slaying. I mean saying."
"Your teeth. So white. So even. So-"
"You can skip that part. Go back to my other at-tribeauties."
"Your breasts!" His lips were grazing her ear now. "They're just crying out to be fondled."
"Not in pubic! I mean public! I don't mind under the table, but-"
"Why don't we get out of here?" Arch kissed her neck. "My apartment's only a few blocks away."
"I really shouldn't-"
But she did.
And once they were settled in Arch's apartment, he came on like a Fanny Hill version of Gangbusters. As soon as they were on the couch he wrapped himself around Olivia and kissed her as she hadn't been kissed since her marriage to Mortimer. "Not so fast," she said breathlessly when the long, deep kiss was finally over. She put a hand against his chest to hold him off. But it wasn't really coyness. Olivia just wanted a moment to secretly run her tongue over her dentures to make sure the pressure of the kiss hadn't loosened them. When she was satisfied they were secure, she removed her hand.
Immediately, Arch swooped down on her for another kiss. She fell back on the couch with him half atop her. The suddenness of the maneuver made her skirt slip up over her shapely legs. By the time the kiss was over, Arch had managed to undo each of the eight buttons running down the front of her blouse.
Now his mouth fastened on the flesh mound escaping from the top of her bra. His hands stroked her legs until she wriggled in response. Then they clutched beneath her, squeezing the plumpness of her derriere. Olivia squealed and bounced excitedly in their grasp.
Arch pushed the bra aside until one breast sprang free. His eyes took a moment to admire the perfect pear-shape of it. For a small girl, Olivia was a bit top-heavy. But Arch wasn't complaining. He was too busy nibbling at the scarlet stem of the pear.
Olivia moaned. Her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing so that his mouth was forced to close over more and more of her breast. The jut of her hips was a blur of motion now, as his hand slipped under the elastic of her panties to grasp at the slippery, dewy, inflamed bit of flesh quivering there.
She writhed under the intimacy. She bounced harder, higher. Her petite, voluptuous body felt as if it were on fire. There was no thought of Mortimer now. There was no thought of anything but the waves of sensation engulfing her.
Arch quickly removed the rest of her clothing. Then he slipped out of his own clothes and sprawled over her. Her body was a torch, her arms and legs archways of flame drawing him into the fiery coals of her breasts and her womanhood.
Olivia raked his neck and back with her nails. Then she dug into his buttocks until she drew blood. He obeyed the command and plunged deep. Only when her scratching had urged him to the greatest possible depth did she let up. But while she relaxed the pressure of her nails, the rest of Olivia's body only increased its frenzied demands. She'd waited a long time for this, and now her need was making the most of it. She moved like a tornado gone berserk, and Arch, caught up in it, let the wild wind draw all that his body was capable of giving.
Finally it was over. Arch rolled over, exhausted. They were silent, panting, for a long time. At last Arch found his voice. "Boy!" he exclaimed. "I never thoughtTd envy Mortimer. But-"
"I know." Olivia's eyes brimmed with gratitude. "It was like that for me, too. There aren't any words."
"Yeah. Cigarette?"
"Yes, thanks."
Arch lit two cigarettes. They smoked them in silence. Finally Olivia snuffed hers out. "Again?" she asked a little shyly.
"I'd like to, but I don't think I'm ready yet to-"
"Well, we can do something about that." Her fingers trailed up his thigh. "Just relax," she crooned. She weighed his manhood in the palm of her hand and stroked it delicately. After a moment she slipped off the couch to the floor. Pushing his legs apart, she edged closer to him on her knees. Her lips formed an O.
"Ahh," he sighed. "Ah-ah-ah! Oh, yes! Harder, darling! Faster, sweetheart! He closed his hands over her ears and pushed and pulled at her head to urge her to greater activity. "Yes! Harder! Faster! Harder! Faster! Harder! Faster!" His hands on her head were moving like twin pistons now. His knees were opening and closing, squeezing Olivia's breasts between them. "Harder! Faster! Harder! Harder! That's it! Harder!"
Then, suddenly-
"OWWEEYIIIOWWWW!" Arch screamed and pushed Olivia's head away with all his strength. He leaped to his feet and danced wildly about the room as if he'd gone suddenly mad. Olivia, sprawled on the floor, looked at him dazed. "Do something!" he screamed. "Do something!"
Olivia reclaimed her senses and leaped into action. "Stand still," she said, grabbing for Arch. "If you'll-stand still, maybe I can-"
"No! No-no-no! You're making it worse! Oh! What agony!" He pulled away from her and resumed leaping and clutching at himself by turn. "Do something! I can't stand it!"
Olivia thought fast. She ran to the telephone and quickly dialed a number. "Doctor Pulham," she stammered when the phone was answered. "Cubquickissan-emergencysomethidawful'shappedandyouhavetocub!"
"Mrs. Valentine?" Dr. Pelham recognized her voice. "You're garbling your words. I can't understand you. Have you taken your dentures out?" His tone was accusing.