"Thanks, buddy," she said distantly.
"Uh…" Cubbings seemed almost shy as he spoke to the blonde dancer, who had turned away to leave.
"What is it?" She was tired of these creeps, all of them with their stupid sex-machine. What she needed right now was some good old-fashioned flesh inside her. Something big and real!
"I just wanted to congratulate you on your performance, Miss Morgan!"
"Thanks a lot, it wasn't anything at all."
"No," Cubbings caught her by the arm. She could smell the freshly spilled sperm on his trousers. "Wait, please. I really mean it."
Lenny eyed this odd and sophisticated man in a new light; perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. At least he'd had some kind of normal reaction to the display of sexual excess.
"You really liked it, huh?" She felt a stirring in her loins; perhaps this man might be of use to her in her presently desperate position.
"Yes, yes, I did." His face was strained with emotion; he had a secret desire to enjoy this woman more directly. He harbored an unexpressed longing to be in closer sexual contact with this gorgeous blonde than simply handling the control board of the Xylotrope.
She leaned back against the padded wall, she shoved her hands deeply into the raincoat pockets, letting it slip open just wide enough to reveal her cleavage.
"I think you're a very nice man, Mr. Cubbings…"
"Do you really?" he bubbled with an almost childish excitement.
"You can knock off the fake speech impediment," she growled.
"Well," he looked furtively around the room, "can you keep a secret?"
"Yeah, I can keep a secret." She let the trench coat slip open a little further. One breast's round, red nipple was exposed.
"The truth of the matter is, I had a speech impediment like that. And it really was caused by a war injury, well, not an injury really. It was actually a case of shell shock. But, unbeknownst to the master – I mean Mr. McClain – I only have it around women, really."
"Yeah?" Lenny was somewhat interested in his story.
"Yes, Miss Morgan… you see, I've been frightfully scared of women ever since the war. I've covered it up as well as I possibly could by working with McClain, telling him that I found the normal sexual activities something of a bore and all."
"Ya know…" Lenny's voice was deep and seductive now, "it all depends on how normal ya gotta be."
"Yes, well, I can never control that speech impediment when I'm with women I find sexually attractive. In order to cover up the fact that it's caused by a sort of sexual embarrassment, I've adopted it as a regular speech pattern. You understand McClain feels secure with a lot of weird people around him. He doesn't like normal males very much, he says they remind him of animals."
"Don't like animals, eh?" Lenny made a mental note of this new and interesting facet of McClain's personality.
"No, I'm afraid he is not able to stomach nothing larger than a chipmunk. He becomes terribly upset if he goes to the zoo. Often the odor of a dog or cat will be enough to make him completely sick."
"Groovy," Lenny pushed her hands deeper into the slash pocket of the raincoat, allowing both breasts to be bared. "And, do you like animals, Mr. Cubbings?"
Cubbings blushed bright red.
"Yes, I should never admit it around here, but the fact is, I grew up with animals. Hunting and riding and all that sort of rot. I find them terribly beautiful and exciting."
It always pleased Lenny Morgan when she found herself gaining sexual control over a man. Particularly wealthy and powerful men like Cubbings.
She reached out and touched him lightly on the cheek.
"Do I remind you of an animal, Cubbie?"
With an embarrassed shuffling of his feet, the wealthy businessman admitted that he did think of her as resembling an animal.
"What animal do I remind you of, Cubbie?" she purred.
"Most of all, Miss Morgan, you remind me of a beautiful and powerful tigress."
"Why is that, lover?" she moved her body closer to his.
"Uh, it's because you are so very graceful and beautiful, and you, you seem so commandingly independent."
"Like that, huh?" one of her breasts brushed up against his expensive dress shirt.
"Oh! Oh, yes!" He raised his arms in a tentative gesture, half in desire to embrace her, half a kind of embarrassed shrugging.
"What would you do if you were locked into a padded cell with a beautiful tigress, Cubbie?" She shifted back against the wall, letting the raincoat slide down over her lovely white shoulders.
A new speech impediment seemed to beset the once suave and composed Cubbings, he stammered hopelessly for several seconds then reached out timidly and stroked the top of Lenny's right breast.
"How does that feel, lover?" she asked. "It… it feels wonderful," he managed. "Tell me exactly what it feels like to you," she demanded.
Instead of speaking, which was becoming more and more difficult for him with every passing second, he leaned forward and began to kiss her tenderly on the top of the breast.
His eager lips traced the gentle swelling of her bosom, searching for the exquisite and erect nipple. He found it. He took it into his mouth and ran his tongue lightly around the tip.
"Mmmmmm!" Lenny managed to moan, her need was at its peak already. There was one thing that she could say in behalf of the Xylotrope, it sure as hell got a girl excited for the real thing!
Almost in shame, Cubbings pulled his head back from her breast and turned away.
"I mustn't do this," he stammered, "it's quite all right for you, of course, I mean it being your profession and all."
"Don't you want me?" she asked, her voice throbbing with desirability.
"Damn!" he cursed, smacking his palm with a closed fist, "of course, of course, I want you more than anything. But you can't understand. I've spent years working with McClain to conquer this sick desire within me. It is too… too atavistic!"
"What do you mean," Lenny hushed, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. "What do you mean, atavistic?"
"Oh, excuse me for using those words, you can understand that before the war I attended Oxford. I was really quite a scholar in those days."
"I'm sure you were, Cubbie. I bet you were just a fascinating man, too." She began to move closer to him now, touching the jutting breasts against his wide back. "I bet you played some sport too, you have such a good-looking body."
Cubbings fidgeted with his cuff links desperately.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I was named the most valuable rugger in my senior year."
"What's that? Rugger?"
"Oh," he turned toward her smiling like a minister confronted by the devil in the body of the most gorgeous woman in all of Hades. "It's nothing really. Just a game, sort of like your American football."
Lenny placed a finger against his cheek, "I just knew that you were a football player, you're so rugged under all that gentleman baloney!"
The touch of her passionate flesh seemed to Cubbings to burn his skin. He glanced about him nervously. There was, of course, no one in the room, but the two of them.
He could do nothing, say nothing. His breast heaved with the mounting passion that he did not have a chance in the world of controlling.
"Tell me, Cubbie darling," Lenny leaned against him with the full length of her voluptuous body, "What does atavistic mean?"
"It means primitive, and obsolete. It describes perfectly the insane emotions I'm experiencing right now. And if you do not desist in these advances, I shall…"
"What?" a strangely dominating smile formed on Lenny's lips. "What shall you do?"
Cubbings gasped as he felt the coolness of her delicate fingers slip under his shirt. He began to tremble with inner conflict.
"You didn't mind taking out your big manly thing when I was playing with the Xylotrope, Cubbie," she purred into his flaming ear, "why do you seem so shy now?"