Next to Pete Fugazi was a medium-sized girl with absolutely stupendous breasts. They were the size which would have put the plastics industry on overtime if they had been injected with silicon, but Patty had the feeling they were all flesh, all real. They protruded like the Swiss Alps, forcing the girl to arch her back to balance herself. She had a flat nose with wide nostrils, the exact opposite of Fugazi's, and very black, tightly kinked hair. The girl smiled, her thick lips wide with lustful greeting. "Hi," she said. "I'm Linda. Linda Vigal."
"Please to meet you, I'm sure," Patty said, smiling back at them.
Renault took her around to the other guest, introducing her to Fortesque T. Franklynn, to "Fort," as he was known. He had his arm around Marcia, who nodded warmly to Patty, and who in turn introduced George Laufgren, who owned a chain of electronic parts stores; his brother, Carter; and their respective wives, Jean and Helen.
Patty was struck by the quiet, formal, sophisticated way everybody conducted themselves, and if she hadn't known better, she would have thought this was one of the most proper and stuffy gatherings she had been to in her life. It was hard to believe these belonged to the mass-swap life, and wondered if they would engage in any of the perverted and unnatural acts she had so recently been introduced to.
"I'll leave you here, Patty," Renault said. "I have to see how Barbara is doing with hors d'oeuvres. We have a cook, but she still insists…” he sighed and shrugged with age-old way a man does when he doesn't understand a woman. Then he turned and with a smile, he shook a warning finger at the Laufgren's. "I saw her first, so no hanky-panky while I'm doing my duties. Especially you, Carter, you rake."
Everybody laughed and Renault walked toward the kitchen.
"Good to see you, Patty," Marcia said, breaking the ice. "You were dead to the world when I got home, so I thought it best to let you sleep."
"Thanks," Patty replied. "But I'm raring to go now."
"I'm sure you are," Carter said. "Ow! You didn't have to kick my shin, darling," he protested to his wife, Helen.
"We were just talking about Viet Nam," Jean said. "Though I don't understand a word of it. I'm a poor housewife and leave such matters to the men-folk."
"Well, it is obvious to anybody, even to you, Helen," Carter said, "That we have no right in that country. We should pull out of there at once.”
“What?” bellowed George, "Leave those poor people to the ravages of Communism? How many women and children do you think would be slaughtered without our defense?"
"Less than the number we're killing now," came the hot retort. "Let them decide for themselves who they want to run the government. It's not our concern."
"Pshaw! I say the concentration camp and firing squad terrorism would wipe the country clean of any thinking men within a year. What kind of world would we have if we gave in to such tyranny, we; the nation which was founded on the principles of decency and freedom for all mankind! Did we not fight for our freedom? And are not all men our brothers? Why should an ocean or a frontier make any difference to the universality of the human race?"
"You mean we should play God with the lives of millions, just to sway them to our beliefs?"
"No, but to give the poor people a chance to decide for themselves, that's all."
"Imperialism has never worked, and you know as well as I do, George, that the real reason we're over there is not to fight for their freedom, but to enslave them in economic ties with the Western world. We're interested in what they can do for us, not what altruistically we can do for them."
"Is profit that bad? Is the money I take from my company dirty? Don't be silly! The capitalistic system works on the basis that what's good for me is good for you, because I need you as much as you need me. So South Viet Nam is hurried into the twentieth century, is shaken up with industrialization and progress. So is that so much worse than picking weeds in a rice paddy all your life? Hell, no, it's not. And don't talk to me about the history of Imperialism. For one thing, we're not the Imperialists, for we plan to leave. Peking and Moscow surely don't, and they plan to bleed the country, not build it up, and that's true Imperialism."
"That still doesn't give us the right to kill."
"The only thing turning the other cheek ever got was another hit in the mouth. You speak of history, and that's the greatest lesson going. Or haven't you ever heard of Chamberlain's 'peace-in-our-times' sellout to Hitler, and the resultant World War II, which slaughtered millions. Asia will fall to the Reds just as surely, and we will have broken our commitments and promises and seriously weakened the respect we hold now if we do as you want."
"Respect?" snapped Carter. "Respect my ass! It's fear!"
"All right, fear! I say respect, but if our enemies fear us, so much the better," Carter glowered at his brother, and sipped his drink. "That's always the curse of the strong."
"All the strength hasn't done a bit of good, either. The Communists are still as powerful as ever."
"Bull shit, brother. When we entered Viet Nam, Cambodia was Red, the Philippines were overrun with Huk terrorists, Malaysia was threatened, Burma was in deep subversive trouble, and the whole Western influence was tottering on the brink of collapse. Now look. South Viet Nam was lost; otherwise Ho Chi Mm would never have agreed to bargain in 1958 he had it made and could put on a front of conciliation. Well, the front backfired and he has been ground to a standstill. The other countries have rallied behind our directive force, and Burma has thrown out the terrorists, the Philippines haven't had serious trouble in over five years, Cambodia has a new, pro-Western government, and we have never have better, more friendly relations with more Eastern countries than now. True, things aren't perfect, but they are a thousand times better than they were a decade ago, and I say it's because we made a stand and have stuck to it."
"And I say…"
"Please!" interrupted Patty. Continue your tirade later. But I'm exercising my right as a partygoer to ask that the subject be changed. I'm a nit about politics, and I feel left out."
"Thank you for the rescue," Helen said dryly. "The boys have been at this ever since I can remember. They don't exactly see eye-to-eye on everything. The silly thing is that they will never do anything else about it except argue."
They all laughed and as the waiter passed, the four took fresh drinks. The talk switched to television, movies, books, and raising of children in today's permissive society. Then Renault appeared beside Patty again, and she could feel the hardening lump of flesh between his legs as he brushed up against her. She wriggled the soft cheeks of her buttocks back against his groin and felt his cock stiffen still more.
The tempo and heat of the party continued to increase, and after a few more drinks, Renault dimmed the room's lights and had the Chinese houseboy set out the gold pillows in a wide circle on the floor. He then instructed everyone to assume seated positions on the pillows, and Patty knew that the marijuana ritual, which she had been a part of the previous night was about to be repeated. She felt her thighs and nipples tingle with anticipation, and as she sank to the cushion, she thought to herself:
This is just the beginning, and tonight is going to be one hell of a swinging party.
Chapter 7
Patty was floating… soft, warm, pleasantly floating, the same feeling she had had that first night. The sweet smell of the marijuana blanketed the room now, and she could see the glowing ends of the brown cigarettes in the darkness. Some of the couples on the cushions were fondling one another now that the ritual had been completed; Renault had kissed one of Barbara’s alabaster breasts moments earlier to signify the close of the ceremony, but he had not left with her as he had before. He was standing behind his cushion, the only one standing, surveying the seated guests with penetrating eyes; Barbara had resumed her position, her breast still exposed, being fondled eagerly now by Garter Laufgren.