BOOK III

Cherchez le Toit

Sam has plenty to say about the French these days. It's a fake, says Sam, all this you hear about the indolent good living of the French. The indolence he is willing to concede ... as to the good living, he wants to make speeches about it.

"An hour and a half for lunch," he snorts to me ... "I used to think that it must be a wonderfully carefree people who lived that way ... until I found out how they spent that hour and a half. Backbiting, penny-pinching ... do you really want to know why they take an hour and a half for lunch? Because they figure that they're safe in a cafe, that they won't be tempted to spend any more money than they've allowed themselves. If they stayed in the office maybe somebody would come in and sell them a new ribbon for a typewriter. That's the whole idea ... they shudder at the thought of doing business because it costs something to do business. Here, look, I'll show you something... " He finds a scrap of paper in his pocket and throws it on the table. "There's a receipt I got this morning from a supposedly reputable business house. Do you see what it is ... . the back of an envelope. That's French business for you."

And so it goes. Sam can find a thousand reasons for disliking the French, but the real trouble is that Sam has had his life somewhat upset since he's been in Paris. I don't pay much attention to all this as long as he doesn't threaten to go home to America. Let him say anything he pleases ... just so long as his wife and his daughter are here to fuck and he's around to buy me a drink he can talk his head off for all I care.

Not that I don't like Sam ... . considering all the years I spent back in New York kissing the asses of men like him, we get along beautifully. He tells me all about his adventures with Alexandra and Tania; I tell him nothing about my adventures with Snuggles and Ann. It works perfectly that way.

 

Something new is happening to Ann ... or so Billie tells me. Ann is still avoiding me, so I have to take Billie's word for it. But I've no reason to believe that Billie might be shitting me... . .

Billie's story is that Ann is trying to make her ... and Billie should know, I suppose. She stops in one afternoon just after she's been to see Ann with another delivery of those fancy watercolors that Ann's collecting and gives me the lowdown, the real dope. Billie's amused, but I think that she's interested too.

After all, Ann is a fine-looking woman, and while Billie usually goes for the sweet young things like Jean and Snuggles I can imagine that she likes a change now and then.

According to Billie, Ann tried to flatter her pants off for a change, told her how lonely it was in Paris without any women friends, and practically asks Billie to teach her what The Well of Loneliness was all about. Billie thought it was just curiosity at first, but by now she's decided that Ann really wants to go to bed with her. She wants to know what I think about it ... . not that it will make much difference in the end.

Well, why not? Ann probably figures that she's gone overboard so completely in Paris that it simply wouldn't make sense to neglect an opportunity to find out the answers to all the questions she's been asking herself. Paris, for Ann, is something that never happened before and probably won't happen again once she's on a boat for New York. If she wants to know what it's like to sleep with a woman it's now or never.

Billie nods, pleased because those are the things she wants to hear. What's Ann like in bed, she wants to know. Is she a hot fuck? Is she as good as Jean, for instance? She wants me to tell her all about Ann, the way a man would want to be told. And what about the guy who foots the bills ... what about her husband?

She throws one leg over the arm of the chair, not giving a fuck that I can see everything she owns, and throws questions at me.

"For the love of Jesus, will you put your leg down?" I finally have to interrupt.

"I haven't had a lay in almost a week."

Billie looks pained. She's full of sympathy. Why don't I call Jean? Or do I want her to ask Jean to come around when she goes home? That bitch! If she isn't careful she won't get home ... I'm in a mood to lock up her clothes and keep her here a week, Lesbian or no Lesbian.

"What are you going to do about Ann?" I ask, when I've answered more questions than she can remember.

"I haven't decided ... . I'll think about it. I'm wondering about Snuggles."

Then she's made up her mind to leave, and she's gone before I can work myself up to raping her... ... .

 

Ernest calls me. What have I been doing, he wants to know, about fixing things for that date at Ann's? I have to tell him that I haven't been doing anything

... I haven't seen her long enough to talk to. Well, then, by all the fucking names of a name, he'll take care of it himself ... where can he find her? I tell him a couple of places where he might run into her and he hangs up.

He sounds as surprised as I am when he calls me back a couple of hours later. He's found her, they're in some joint on the rue St. Jacques, and he wants me to come right down.

"What do I want to do that for? Look, Ernest, you just fix things up... . I have to go out and eat pretty soon... ."

That won't do at all, it seems. He has to go home and get the camera, and he can't take her with him and he can't leave her alone. He's afraid she'll sober up too much if there isn't someone with her.

"Did she say it was all right about the party?" I ask him.

"Well, no, she didn't exactly say that, Alf, but it's going to be all right. Once we get her at her place we can fix that. What's the matter ... . don't you want to fuck her?"

"Yeah ... yeah ... I want to fuck her all right, Ernest, but I'm not so sure about taking any pictures. It's likely to spoil everything if you show up with a taxi full of lights and wires and things."

"It won't spoil anything ... she'll think it's swell when we get her in the right mood. Wasn't it her idea to begin with?"

In the end, of course, I go out to meet them. If I didn't Ernest would be sore.

And there might be something to it after all ... . free drinks, anyway.

 

It's growing dark as I walk along and the whores are creeping out for the night's trade. Who in Hell picks up a whore at this time of day, I wonder?

Tourists, probably ... ... anyone else would know that if you picked one up now you'd have to feed her. One falls in step beside me and gives me her little sales talk... . .

"It's so nice, Monsieur ... and costs so very little ... . wouldn't you like to know how they do it in Havana? Yes, I was in Havana, Monsieur ... this is not my regular line ... not at all! But the times being what they are... . Perhaps you will buy me a small Pernod... . ."

I give her the shake and walk for a couple of blocks behind a blonde cunt.

Picture under her arm ... must be an art student, but she walks like a chorus girl. After the first fifty feet I have a hard on just from watching that ass sway back and forth, and I whistle a couple of times to see if she'll turn around. She won't.

How many times, I wonder, have I done this ... gone chasing through the streets after a cunt like a dog sniffing after a bitch ... . with not a chance in a million that she'll give me a tumble. That ass moves like a pendulum, ticking my life to pieces. Here I am chasing a cunt that I'm not going to get ... . a million other bozos must be doing the same thing at this minute ... while that pendulum goes on swinging. I'm glad that I have someplace to go. If I didn't I'd turn around and find that whore again ... she wasn't so bad.

The girl turns into a shop and I still haven't seen her face ... but I still have that erection she gave me. It's like finding money on the street, getting that hard on and carrying it off with me. The difference is that nobody's lost anything. I make a note that if I ever run into that cunt again I'll have to go up and thank her, have to try to explain how wonderful it is that you can get something for nothing and nobody's out anything. But I won't see her again... . I never see them again, all these beautiful cunts who lead me down the avenues.

I nurse that erection along until I'm with Ernest and Ann. I follow one cunt after another, dreaming about them. Shit, I must be cunt struck ... here I am talking to myself again ... something I haven't done since I first came here, when I used to get so fucking hungry just for something to eat that I was a little delirious most of the time ... A fuck ... hell. When I saw a big, juicy ass I wanted to eat the damned thing. But I learned one thing ... . You can be starving to death and old Johnny down there can't keep his mind off cunt. He still comes up strong when your knees are so wobbly that you can't walk straight. It may be different when you get really bad and your belly starts to bloat. I never found out about that ... I panhandled instead.

Ernest hadn't told Ann that he called me. As soon as he sets eyes on me he sets up a shout. Well, well, well ... . . imagine finding me there! He claps me on the back and shakes my hand ... . they were just about to start talking about me, he says. As for Ann, she's confused and embarrassed, but she has to make the best of things.

Christ, what a lot of shit there is to getting a woman to bed with you! Some women. It would be so much simpler if you could just thump Ann on the ass and say "Let's go to your house and fuck." ... . . Ann maybe you could, if she were drunk enough. Instead, we have to finagle and fuck around. Ernest decides that it's his birthday.

"Everybody have a drink on me!" he says, "My birthday... ."

... ... . . Since there are only the three of us the celebration won't cost him much. Ann is as surprised as I am to hear about his birthday. Ernest insists that it's his birthday, but he forgets how old he is.

"I'd have a party," he says mournfully, "but my place is so small...

"Oh yes, mine too, mine too," I tell Ann.

"Well... ." Ann says doubtfully.

"Fine!" Ernest roars. "Just the place to have a little birthday party! Now you two just stay here ... I have a little errand to do. But I'll be back ... I'll be back!"

Aside, as he's leaving, he says to me: "For God's sake, keep her drinking... ."

"Sure ... . keep her drinking! How the fuck am I going to do that if she decides that she doesn't want to drink?"

"Stand her on her head and pour it in her asshole ... that's what I've been doing. Just don't let her sober up before I get back."

"What a fuck of a nuisance this is! Why don't we go out and pick up some whore? There are lots of nice girls on the street tonight."

"Now, Alf, don't start that... . Do you know where Sid is?"

 

"No, I don't know where Sid is, and I don't give much of a damn. Do you realize that this used to be my cunt before you and Sid came sticking your fingers in the pie? Where's that suit she was going to buy me? Is she going to buy it tonight? No, you're going to gyp her on some camera deal you rigged up! By Christ, Ernest, there's a limit to friendship! You and Sid are going to fuck up everything before you're through."

"Sh, she'll hear you ... . Listen Alf, I never pulled anything on you in my life ...

. if I make anything on the camera I'll see that you're taken care of. Of course if you don't want to screw her you don't have to come along... ."

"What do you mean, if I don't want to screw her? Who has a better right to screw her? Who got her started?"

I'd like to remember what I said to Ann in the next half hour. I poured... . I overflowed. I pissed conversation like a weak bladder. I talked about every fucking thing ... . that came into my head, and every time I caught the garçon by the coattail that was a period. She forgot that she was sore at me, and she sat there with her teats hanging over the table and her mouth open a little while she tried to guess what it was all about. She even let me feel her up a little under the table while I sang her a song in Russian. But she wouldn't feel me back, the bitch

... still too much of a lady. Anyway, she didn't stop drinking.

She begins to get restless, though. There aren't enough people in that joint to suit that tourist mind of hers. Couldn't we go somewhere else for awhile and leave a note for Ernest? I think that's a splendid idea, so we settle up and leave a message with the waiter and go down the street.

Ann is getting gay. Two drinks in the new place and she's had enough of that.

We write another note and try another. By this time I'm beginning to feel those drinks a little myself. Another note. Ann doesn't like one place because it's full of sailors. The next one has too many whores. Then she counts six cats in one place, and she can't stand cats. Christ, I've given up trying to let Ernest know where we might be... . I just leave a note each time to tell him we've been there and gone.

"Is it really Ernest's birthday?" Ann asks me every few minutes.

Shit, I don't know if it's his birthday ... . it might be. For that matter I don't suppose that Ernest knows when it is. I'm wondering if I ought to come right out and ask her for some money ... this drinking is beginning to get expensive. And every time I want to leave a note at the bar I have an argument with the patron who can't understand why we don't want to stay in such a nice place as this to meet our friends.

"If it's Ernest's birthday," Ann decides, "I'll have to get him something ... . ."

Out of that place we go and into the nearest men's shop. Ernest's birthday!

Shit! Why couldn't he have made it my birthday, I'd like to know? My heart sinks when she begins to buy things. She simply walks around the store and jabs her fingers at things, and the clerk puts them in a pile on the counter.

Shirts, neckties, socks ... . my God, it's criminal! And here I am with a suit that's getting shaggy at the cuffs and a hat that looks as though I polished my shoes with it... . . Underdrawers ... what size? Well, what size do I take? That son of a bitch with his birthday! Shoes! We have to go to another store for those, and to make it more insulting I have to carry the packages. We have another drink, which I pay for, and buy the shoes. Well, that bitch, if she wants to spend dough, I'll help her ... but Ernest's going to answer to me for this night!

"Why don't you buy him a suit?" I ask her, "And maybe a coat and hat?"

A suit? But how can she get his measurements to a tailor? And it always takes three or four weeks for Sam's suits to be made. Finally I argue her into buying a ready-made one ... if it doesn't fit he can bring it back. I'm so fucking mad now that I don't care what she does. I even let them use me as a clothes dummy while she picks out what she wants. But I've decided that I won't carry those damned packages another stop. I plunk them down in front of the spider who runs this joint and tell him that he can send everything. Of course it's going to cost a little something to send them tonight, he tells me... . .

At the next bar we turn into I steer Ann far to the back, in a corner, and face her toward the wall so that she won't see anything she doesn't like ... . I want to rest my ass for a while. But we haven't been there ten minutes before Ernest comes in ... with Sid.

"We got your notes," Ernest yells, and he waves them. A light bulb drops from somewhere on him and the report almost precipitates a panic at the bar. He's carrying a suit case and all his pockets are bulging. Sid has a tripod and a half dozen reflectors and some stands for lights. He's like a man who has been split open and is trying to keep his guts under his coat ... miles of coiled black tubing keeps popping out of him. Light cord, when you take a second look.

"You dope," I say to him as soon as I get him out of Ann's range, "do you want to scare her away altogether? Why the fuck didn't you leave it in a taxi?"

"Nuts ... she doesn't know what it is. I'll tell her it's machinery to make root beer ..." He turns to Ann and tells her: "It's to make homemade root beer... ."

Ernest wants to go for a drive after a couple more drinks, so we get into a fiacre and cross to the right bank by way of the Ile de la Cité. But I make damned certain that I get a place next to Ann. She's all right now ... she's warmed up, and in the dark of the musty smelling cab she's quite friendly. We go as far as the Place de la Bastille, and when we get to Ann's place, where the horse immediately takes a piss, we've finished one of the bottles which Sid has brought. Passing Notre Dame on our way over, I had my hand under Ann's skirt and she was feeling of my fly ... . . coming back she had my dong out as we passed the morgue at Place Masas, I had her pants half off, and what she was doing with her other hand I couldn't say.

All the junk which Ann bought arrives just as we do. As soon as we're in her place she hands everything over to Ernest. He's in a fog, he doesn't know what it's all about.

"It's for your birthday, you dope!" I yell at him. "For your God-damned fucking birthday!"

He can't look me in the eye, but Sid takes everything in his stride. Sid slaps Ann across the ass and tells her it's his birthday too.

"How about a present for me too?" he keeps asking her. "I don't want much... .

Just a few minutes of your time... ."

He gets her off in a corner and starts playing with her. Ernest looks at them and then at me. He shakes his head.

"I can't understand this ... . . I just can't understand it," he says. He shakes a box that's among all the crumpled wrapping paper and another necktie falls out.

He puts it absently in his pocket. "You know me, Alf."

Just then Ann lets out a screech. Sid has her on the floor and he's sitting on her. Her dress is over her head and he's pulling her pants off her ass. When he gets a nice juicy place bare he smacks her a couple of times.

 

"She won't take her dress off," he explains. "I think she just likes to have her ass warmed."

"Thought we were coming up here to have a drink or two," Ann wails. "If I'd have known you intended to try this... . ."

Ernest begins to stumble over his wires and lights. He sticks the camera up on the tripod and takes a squint through it.

"Wrestle with her some more, Sid," he says, "We want her to look real mussed up, like, for the first ones."

Ann gets really sore at that. We're not going to take any pictures of her, she insists. But Ernest goes on setting the lights around and trying them and Sid musses her up some more.

"Hey Ernest ... . you want her cunt showing? You want her legs open: what do you want?"

"Just show me plenty of belly ... . . yeah, one of her bubs, too ... . just let her brassiere hang down. Maybe you ought to get in this too, Alf... ."

"Fuck that! You're not going to get my picture committing rape! Do you know what that picture's going to look like?"

It's going to have plenty of juice no matter what else it has. Ann's half naked, while Sid still has his hat on and is chewing what's left of his cigar; and they both look just about as stewed as they are. Ernest finally presses the button and gets some kind of a picture. Sid lets Ann go then, but she still lies on the floor wringing her hands and kicking her feet.

"To think of such a thing happening to me!" She howls. "Oh, if Sam ever found out! Oh my God, if Sam ever found out!"

"Let her enjoy herself as long as she doesn't make too much noise," Ernest says while he's opening another bottle. "She'll come around."

Ann takes a drink when it's passed to her and sits up with her back against the wall. She wants to try to reason with us. A woman in her position really can't afford to have such a picture of herself taken ... . can't we see that? Ernest swears that they're only for her own collection ... . she said she wanted to buy a camera and take some... So here is the camera and here we all are... . .

"Here's another drink for you," he says. He sits down beside her and begins to feel her up. I felt like sitting down myself, so I take the other side of her. One more drink and she lets us put her dress up to her belly. Ernest and I take turns feeling her bonne-bouche while we try to get her to play with our cocks.

"All right," she says suddenly, "you may take your damned pictures... . .'

She puts her empty glass between her legs and runs one hand into my fly and the other into Ernest's. Out comes Johnny and out comes Ernest's dick. I have a sweet dong on, and it's getting bigger by the minute. Ernest's isn't exactly a peanut, either. Sid chooses that moment to press the camera button. I'm too drunk by now to think much about whether or not I want my physog recorded for the ages.

"Undress me," Ann says, and then the bitch throws herself across our knees.

From then on it seems that every time I turn around that fucking camera is clicking in my face. It has an attachment, which Ernest tries to explain to me, and which I'm too drunk to understand, that delays the action so that the guy who presses the button can get into the picture before it goes off. After the first few times it doesn't bother us much.

As soon as we have Ann's clothes off she's after our dicks. The bitch can't even wait for us to undress. While she's still squirming around on her belly, and while Ernest is taking off her stockings, she pulls my fly wide open and shoves her face in it. She curls her tongue around my balls and licks them, jerking me off while she's doing it, and in about ten seconds she's grabbed John Thursday in her mouth and is washing his face.

"Feel my ass!" she yells at Ernest, "Feel me up good!"

She spreads herself and shows us everything she has between those big thighs. Ernest tickles her fig and pokes his fingers into it, and back into her mouth goes Johnny. She rubs her teats on my legs and tries to crawl into my pants head first. Then she hops up and shakes her ass in front of our faces like a hula dancer.

"Come back here, you bitch!" I yell at her. But it doesn't do any good. When I make a grab for her she runs to the couch. She bounces on it and turns her belly to the ceiling, lies there with her legs wide open and shows us her con. She wants to be fucked, she wants to feel a prick under her ass, and she's not at all bashful about telling about it. She pulls her fig wide open and rubs her fingers into the split. She ought to have a rain gutter to take care of that cunt when it starts to leak... . . she has a river of juices corning out of her forest, feeding the flowers that grow around her ass... . .

Sid has been taking off his clothes, and he's on the couch at the same time that Ernest gets there.

"Don't you fuck her, Ernest," Sid argues. "Don't you try to fuck her with your pants on ... you'll get them so soaked with that stuff that you'll have to bury them ... Let me screw her while you get ready."

Ann doesn't care a fuck of a lot who screws her ... . she has her legs open like a trap, waiting to hook the first cock that comes close enough. Sid hops on her and the trap springs. She gets her legs and both arms around him, and her ass comes up into position. Sid has a dong on that looks like something you ought to go after with a horse and a lariat, but that's just the kind that Ann is looking for.

She gives her rear a wiggle or two and gobbles it into her belly. Ernest runs over to the camera and starts snapping away while Sid rides her... . .

"My God!" Ann squeaks after a minute, "I'm going to come! Somebody give me a prick to suck while I come... . ."

I'm not crazy enough to give my cock to a bitch who's as wild as Ann is ...

Jean Jeudi has to last me for the rest of my life, and I'm not taking any chances of losing half of him. She acts nuts enough to eat him. She makes a grab for me, and I won't let her put my dong into her mouth, so she yells to Ernest. He's there in nothing flat, stuffing it down her throat while she coos and gurgles over it. As soon as she has it Ernest begins to look desperate, as though he'd made a mistake, but he goes on jabbing it into her mouth.

"For Christ sake," he pants at Sid, "make the bitch come, will you!"

He grabs her teats and squeezes them until the nipples turn almost purple.

Sid is sticking his fingers up Ann's ass, and every time he wiggles them she howls and tries to swallow Ernest's bush. Then, bang ... . bang ... . bang. One after the other, Sid, Ann and Ernest.

Ann keeps her legs around Sid until she can't squeeze another drop out of him. Then she's ready to let Ernest go too, but he goes on frigging away at her mouth.

"What the hell are you trying to do?" Sid asks, watching him, "Piss?"

 

"Sure," Ernest says ... and Ann jumps up quicker than you'd think a woman of her size could move.

It's time for everybody to have another drink, and Ernest fools around with the camera. Ann is beginning to get ideas about the pictures she'd like to have. First of all she wants pictures of her sucking each one of us off.

That's easy enough ... we put her on a table and take turns. I'm first, and I stand at one end of the table with my dong up while Ann, on her belly, sticks it in her mouth and puts her arms around my ass. As soon as her lips close on my prick I'm ready to forget about the pictures and simply work on her.

"Look," I say to Ernest, "why don't we forget the art and just screw her? Just let me take her off into the bedroom for half an hour, then maybe we'll take some pictures... ."

But that wouldn't do, it seems. Even Ann is against that idea. She wants the pictures and she wants a lot of them, and it's Sid's turn now. For once he doesn't have a hard on, but Ann fixes that. She hangs over him and kisses his nuts.

Then she licks his belly and his thighs and his bush. By the time Ernest has the camera ready Sid is ready too. Ann pulls the skin back from his prick and cleans around the head of it with the tip of her tongue. In it goes... ...

Ann's really hot again when it's Ernest's turn ... you call see that in the way she grabs for his cock. And she has another idea for a picture ... . she wants to lie on her back and let Ernest hang his balls into her mouth. Ernest looks doubtful ... I don't blame him after the ferocious way she was sucking him off a few minutes ago ... . but he lets her have her way. His balls are too big for her to take both of them at once, anyway ... . and if she bites one off he still has a spare. Ann lets her head hang over the edge of the table and Ernest drops one of his nuts into her open lips as neatly as though it was a cherry ... . she's using both hands to jerk him off ... she has her legs apart and her ass is wiggling.

It suddenly comes to me that this catting bitch is Ann. Not Tania or her mother and not one of Arthur's or Carl's cunts, but Ann Backer, out to see Paris.

My Christ, the adaptability of a cunt is a wonderful thing ... . when I first knew her Ann would have jumped into the Seine before she'd have done anything like this. It just goes to show what a fine thing travel is... . .

 

Ann has another idea ... she's thought of a way to suck two pricks at once, she says. Ernest and I will have to lie on the couch... . .

I've never heard of such a thing before ... . but, strangely enough, it works.

Ernest and I lie with our heads at either end of the couch and our asses together, my legs over his. Ann licks my dong and then she licks his ... she gives him a suck and then puts mine in her mouth. Finally she puts her fingers around them and squeezes them together... . .

It isn't easy, getting both of those cocks in at once, but Ann is determined. She twists her head from one side to the other keeping her mouth as wide as she can.

It's the bitchiest thing I've ever seen, the way she struggles to get both of those big dicks in together.

She manages it somehow ... . and I'm ready to come long before she starts to suck them. I sit up and look at her better, and so does Ernest. Sid is so pop-eyed that he's pushing all the wrong buttons on the camera ... he's taking pictures all over the place. Ann is slobbering all over us, wiggling her behind and trying to rub her bubs against our balls.

"For God's sake," I yell at her, "if you stop before I come I'll strangle you with the damned thing."

She starts playing with both of us, bouncing her head around so that it feels as though our pricks were in a tight cunt. Sid can't stand any more ... he leaves the camera and rushes over with his dong up. He gets behind Ann and rams his cock against her rectum. Ann jumps as though she'd had a hot poker stuck into her ass, but she sucks us twice as hard when she catches on to what's happening.

Sid goes on poking at her, and in a few minutes, he's got the end of his dong in her rectum. He starts to fuck her, pushing the rest of it in, and Ann hops around so much that it's all we can do to keep her on the couch. She can hardly catch a breath of air because each time that she tries to lift her head Ernest rams it down again. And those two pricks haven't grown any smaller, either. Sid yells at her to smile at the camera because it's to go off... . .

"Smile, you whore," he yells, "or I'll shove this cock into your mouth, too... . ."

The camera isn't the only thing that's ready to go off ... ... I can feel Ernest's cock jump against mine, and in the next minute Ann's mouth feels very sticky.

 

The jism is running out and over her chin and over everything else ... . she can't stop it.

"My ass!" she manages to sputter, "... . my God, it's on fire!"

Sid is fucking himself cockeyed, shooting that jism up her rectum, but she hasn't come yet. She's trying to swallow Ernest's jism and she's damned near swallowing my cock along with it ... It's halfway down her throat when I come, and that first taste must go directly into her bowels with no stops on the way.

Sid's given up trying to fuck her into coming ... he takes a deep breath and starts to piss inside her. He's determined to either make her come or kill her, and he comes close to doing both together ... . .

For half a minute Ann is completely nuts. Neither Ernest nor I can get our cocks away from her, and she seems to be trying to suck our balls out through them. She doesn't quite get our balls but she gets everything else. She's choking herself on the jism she's sucking out, but that's too unimportant to bother her.

Her ass is full of piss and her mouth is full of cock ... . she's daffy as a loon, and completely happy.

When she's through sucking us I can't move, and neither can Ernest. I'm so glad to have my prick back in one piece that I simply lie there and sigh while Ann, who seems to be still coming, licks the juice from my cock and my balls and hair. She's got plenty of cleaning up to do ... . there's jism from my navel to my knees, and Ernest is in the same condition. But she licks it all up, and then she's got to make a run for the bathroom to get rid of the little present Sid gave her.

You'd think after that she'd be ready to sit down and take it easy for awhile ...

. but not Ann. She takes time out to pour another drink into herself and then she's ready to take some more pictures. Doesn't anyone want to fuck her now, she asks brightly.

"How about sucking our asses?" I suggest.

Oh no! That is the one thing of which there will be no pictures, Ann says. So of course that becomes the one thing we're determined to get pictures of. Sid and Ernest grab her... . . I turn my ass toward her and they rub her nose in it. She fights like hell, but she's as drunk as we're fucked out. I feel her nose rub my rectum, and then I hear a smack as Sid slaps her ass with his bare hand.

 

"Kiss it, you bitch," he says, "or you'll have a blistered ass to show your husband tomorrow ... . ."

Ann finally kisses it. She pushes her lips up against it, and her tongue shoots out. She's still objecting, but an occasional bat on the behind keeps her in line.

At last she begins to suck ... . she puts her arms around my waist and starts to pull Jean Jeudi's neck.

Five minutes ago I was sure that I would never get another dong on, but when I feel her tongue slipping up my rectum and hear her sucking in that sloppy way she has, up comes Johnny again. It's such a marvelous restorative that Sid and Ernest want to try it too, so she has to give them both an extra long ass-sucking while they try to ease themselves into condition again. Ernest wants to try pouring a bottle of wine into his rectum and letting Ann suck it out again, but Sid argues him out of it ... . Ann is so stinking drunk now that she'll pass out on us if we give her much more. But she insists that she isn't drunk ... . she takes two more drinks one after the other to prove it. She wants me to fuck her, and I'm ready, so after she's licked my ass some more I jump on her and throw my cock in. Jesus, that's a deep, hot hole she's got! The hair around it must be to pull yourself out with in case you fall in... . But John T. loves it ... . he comes almost as soon as he's in. I go on screwing her and come again before she does.

Ernest wants to fuck her when I'm through. But Ann still wants to prove that she isn't soused, so she tips the bottle up and takes an enormous drink before she spreads her legs for him. I go into the bathroom, and when I come out again Sid is riding her and Ann has passed out cold.

Ernest sits in a corner among his new suit and his new shirts and things and swears at Ann when Sid is finished with her.

"Look at all these fucking things the rich bitch bought me," he says. He snaps his fingers. "Just like that ... And here I am fucking around trying to get her to buy a camera so I'll have a little extra next week... . That cunt. God damn the rich cunt!"

"It's a fucking shame," Sid sympathizes. "A dirty bitch like that!"

Ernest swears some more but gets up to take some pictures of Ann while Sid and I pull her around to the positions he wants. She's like a log ... .

 

"Look," Sid says after a few shots have been taken, "I'm too old for all this exercise... . Why don't we go out and get a couple of bozos to help us? Shit, if we let a few guys come in and screw her you could get some fine pictures. We'll surprise her ... a damned rich cunt!"

"Aw Sid, that wouldn't be nice... ."

"What the fuck do you mean, wouldn't be nice? Is it nice to let people take pictures of you sucking assholes? What makes you think she's nice? She's just rich... . . Hey, how about it? We could even charge a little something, just to keep the bums out... ."

There's an argument about how much we ought to charge, but it sounds like such a good idea that we put our clothes on and go out to see if we can find any takers. I'm for the idea because it seems like such a good joke on Ann ... that's how stinking drunk I am.

"We won't have to tell them that she's passed out or that we want to take pictures," Sid plots as we're falling down the steps. "We'll just tell them that we have this rich cunt who wants to be screwed. By Jesus, she's going to be surprised when she takes a look at those pictures!"

 

Snuggles comes to see me ... . Snuggles of the raspberry nipples and the progressively hot underpants. It's in the afternoon... . I've just taken a bath so she finds me in nothing but a bathrobe ... . which seems to be just right for her purpose. She's come looking for a lay ... . and to tell me an amazing story.

Sam has laid her. She still acts dazed about it, which I suppose is how she ought to act, considering that he's been just her father for a good many years. It must be pretty much of a shock, one way or another, to have your father suddenly pull out his dong one day, wave it in your face, and lay you.

Of course that isn't just how it was done. Sam being, what he is, it couldn't have been done that way. But the result is the same... ... .

Tania is at the bottom of this, as usual. She's probably been working on poor Sam for weeks, putting the idea into his head, pounding it in with every hump of her hot, bitch's ass. And of course she's been putting the idea up to Snuggles almost from the very minute they knew each other. So one afternoon the pot boiled over.

 

I thought, when I heard someone at the door, that it might be Ann... . Ernest was going to take the pictures of her today. And I thought I was ready for anything. But I wasn't ready for the greeting Snuggles offered... ...

"Daddy fucked me yesterday ... ..."

That doesn't sound so good out in the hall where everyone might hear, so I get her inside and lock the door just in case someone should come. Then she sits down and tells me the whole story... . .

That bitch, she doesn't forget a single, inflammatory detail. She can't simply tell me that he screwed her and when and where ... . no, she has to almost show me how it was done. Another trick of Tania's.

As I said, it was in the afternoon. Snuggles came back to the hotel and found her father there alone ... . although she's pretty certain that Tania had just been there because she smelled Tania's perfume when her father kissed her. That's quite possible, especially if Tania knew that Snuggles was coming back soon... . I can see how she's teased poor Sam until he was almost nuts and then left him with his cock up and his guard down. Anyway, Sam followed Snuggles into her bedroom and like a dope ... or a bitch ... . she began to change her clothes in front of him. In two minutes he was feeling her up and in three he had her on the bed. In five they were fucking and by the time fifteen minutes had passed Sam had something to feel lousy about.

"Well what the Jesus did you let him do it for?" I yell when Snuggles gets that far. "You didn't have to, did you? He wouldn't rape his own daughter!"

"I imagine that I wanted him to," Snuggles said, giving me that wise, kid look of hers.

She wanted him to! Yes, damn it, I suppose she did. And she can't see why I'm so upset about it, either. What the fuck does a kid like that know about economics. Does she know that if things get much messier her family is going to go shooting back to America, where they should have stayed in the first place, and leave me with nothing to show for their visit but a sore dick and a thirst for better liquor than I can afford? Like so much shit she does... . So she goes on telling me how much she wanted him to and what she felt like while he was feeling her up and how big his prick was... . All that stuff, until I simply can't stand it any longer. I go out to the kitchen to find something to settle my nerves, and I make the trip both ways with a hump on the front of my bathrobe that looks as though I had elephantiasis of the balls.

"What are you going to do about it now?" I ask her when I'm settled with a glass and have given Snuggles a much smaller glass.

"Fuck him again, I suppose," she says, "And then again ... if he wants to."

If he wants to. How to Jesus can a man help himself? All I have to do is look at her ... . she sits crossing and uncrossing her legs, showing the new pants she's wearing ... . and I have a dong on ... . . and I'm not her father, by Christ!

"I thought you'd be glad to hear about it," Snuggles adds in a minute. "Tania said that you liked girls who were real dirty bitches."

I simply put my head in my hands. There isn't any answer any more. This whole affair has gotten out of my hands and is moving too fast for me. Then, while I'm sitting there, Snuggles comes over and sits herself down on the floor between my knees. She sticks her chin on my thigh like a dog and looks up at me. Her fingers are sticky when they go under my robe to touch my leg ... . she's spilled wine on them... .

"You know why I came to see you, don't you," she whispers. "Of course I could go home and see if Daddy's there ..."

She keeps feeling up my leg, running those nails that she's learning to keep pointed now up my thigh. Jesus, and to look at her! Butter pigtails and inkstains on her fingers instead of nail polish. But that bitchy little red mouth is going to begin to give her away soon ... . that cock sucker's mouth, that cunt licker's mouth... . It's beginning to get that look that you learn to watch for... . I don't know what it is, but it's beginning to show... . .

Snuggles rubs her teats on my knees... . Teats? Her chest, I should say, but there's a softness there, you can tell that there's something started, and she pulls my bathrobe apart, a little at a time, looking at my legs while she uncovers them.

John T. is holding up the tent, waiting for the big show. She slides her hands under the robe and tickles his whiskers ... ...

I almost drop my glass when she pulls the bathrobe completely open ... . .

she's so suddenly vicious about it. I set it down and she sits on her heels looking at my cock with her eyes looking a little bit daffy. She puts one hand around it and squeezes until the end is red and bulging.

 

"For Gods sake, don't sit there looking at it," I tell her, "put it in your mouth if you want to suck it ..."

"You can't make me... ."

It's not hard to make her. All I have to do is put my hand on her head and push it down ... she does the rest. In goes Jean Jeudi, and she leans up against me while she unfastens the front of her dress. Then she has those teatless teats of hers rubbing against my balls, and she's giving a remarkable imitation of her mother.

"Are you going to fuck me?" She rubs my prick across her mouth and on her nose and looks up at me innocently. "Shall I take my clothes off now ... or do you want to?"

I stand up, but I don't know what I want to do. She's on her knees with my cock in her mouth again, and there doesn't seem to be much reason for not letting her keep it there, letting her suck me off then kicking her to hell out. But I don't ... I pick her up and chase her into the bedroom ... ... .

She lies crosswise on the bed and looks at me. Her dress is up to her hips and she's managed to keep her bubs uncovered too. One shoe hangs to the floor and then the other as she pushes them off with her toes. I leave my bathrobe somewhere on the floor and jump on the bed with her.

How these little cunts love their underdone bodies! Shit, even if it wasn't so damned exciting to look at them, it would make you hot just to see how much they think of themselves ... I get Snuggles out of her dress and yank her pants down ... . She turns to see if I'm getting a good view of her ass... . .

"Fuck me with my stockings on!" She says, "Fuck me with my stockings on!"

So she's learned that. From Tania, most likely. The little whore... . . I'll fuck her with her stockings on! Perhaps she'd like me to go out and buy a top hat and fuck her with that on... . She grabs my cock and throws her legs open. That little red fig stares me in the face, like a danger signal. It's bare as an apple, and much the same color. Christ, but it's a juicy apple... . .

"Lick my prick," I tell her. "Hey, did you do that to your old man?"

No, she tells me, they just fucked. He put his cock in her cunt and fucked her, and that's all there was to it. But perhaps next time... . .

 

I grab her by the waist and yank her belly against my chest, rubbing my dick all over her face. I may be a baby fucker, but who the Hell cares ... . Snuggles is a damned fuckable baby ... I lick her hips and bite her thighs. She squeals like a young pig, and wiggles like one, too, but she likes it ... . as, come to think of it, why in hell shouldn't she? How many girls of her age, after all, have a chance to get their conillons sucked? Plenty, I know, but not such a fucking lot of them at that... . .

She really throws that fig of hers at me when she understands what I'm after.

Her thighs go around my head and she smacks me in the face with it. It's something like being slapped in the mouth with a warm, wet dishcloth ... but no dishcloth ever had fuzz growing on it, and no dishcloth ever had a smell like that juicy peach. I dig my tongue into it ... . and lick up a mouthful of juice ... . and poke my dong into her mouth at the same time. She loves the tete-beche game ...

she twists around me like an eel, tying knots into herself and into me. My cock is twice as big as anything she ought to be familiar with yet, but she's having a fine time with it. She slobbers over it like a vet, making everything nice and juicy.

These young bitches always surprise me that way. When you get a woman with a good bush and a heavy pair of bubs ... one of those heavy mares with an axe mark under their tails ... you expect them to be wet between the legs. But girls like Tania and Snuggles ... . it's astonishing, the amount of that stuff that they produce from their wee splits... .

Snuggles has a nice little belly. It isn't broad and soft like her mother's ... . you wouldn't mistake it for any feather pillow ... . but the skin is smooth, and it's hot as your cock, and it moves continually when she breathes. You know you've got something alive on your hands. And it makes her squirm when it's licked... . .

I slip my tongue into her figlet and suck it for awhile. Snuggles is holding my dick in both hands, keeping Johnny's head in her mouth but jerking him off more than she sucks him. She tickles his nose with her tongue and tells me that he's too juicy. She always thought, she tells me, that if she didn't have to suck Tania's and Billie's and Jean's cunts but sucked cocks instead she wouldn't have to get her face all wet ... . but a prick is almost as bad... . .

Between the cheeks of her ass Snuggles is almost naked. Her rectum is pink and tight, and for some reason it's a hell of a temptation. I run a finger over it and poke at it. Snuggles wiggles a little more, but she doesn't seem to mind.

Finally I push my finger into it, just to see what she'll do... ... and the little cunt, she begins to hop back and forth against it, trying to fuck herself on it.

Suddenly I stop sucking her cunt and begin sucking her rectum instead. Don't ask me why ... . it's just because it's there and it looks as though it ought to be sucked ... I lick it a few times, kiss it ... . and shove my tongue up it. Snuggles almost tears my cock off, she sucks it so hard then.

She doesn't have to tell me that she's going to come ... . I know she is ... . and I am too. I climb over her so that I can hold her better, so that she can't suddenly change her mind and leave me with a pot of jism to spill over the sheets, and put everything but my balls into her mouth. I manage to get one finger into her conillon and my tongue too ... . and we both come.

"Swallow that, you crazy cunt!" I yell at her as John T. lets go. "Swallow it, or by Christ I'll make you wash it down with a mouthful of piss!"

"I'm ... ... trying ... . to... " is all she can say. She's got such a dose that it's practically coming out of her ears, but she's doing the best she can with it.

The room settles back on its ass again after a long time. I've been sailing around like a bird, and I come down with a jolt. Snuggles is still sucking my prick, still swallowing the jism. And some son of a bitch is trying to break down the door. I shake Snuggles off... she's like a leech on that cock ... . and listen. It sounds like Sid, but it might be anybody. It might even be Carl, which would be a fine mess.

I've read about these things, but by Jesus this is the first time I ever really was in a situation where I had to hide somebody. We've been making so much noise that whoever is out there must know I'm in. And I'd like to see who it is, just in case... . .

She's under the bed like a flash, taking her clothes with her. And I can't get her out again. I even grab her leg and try to pull her out, but she's like a snail in a shell. Why the fuck didn't she wait until I had got her into a closet? Well, there's nothing to be done now ... . that door will be off its hinges if I don't answer it... .

It's Sam. For the first time in his life he comes to my place, and it has to be when I'm fucking his daughter! He gives me a funny look and walks straight in.

 

"Are you getting deaf?" he asks me. "What was the row about, anyway?"

"Exercise," I tell him, Hell, I must look as though I'd been exercising. I pound my chest and take a deep breath. Then I suddenly remember that I haven't anything on and that my dick must still be wet. I tell him I'll get him a drink, and I go out to the kitchen where I can wrap a towel around my ass.

When I come back from the kitchen Sam isn't in the living room. He's in the bedroom, sitting on the bed. I almost shit my pants.

"Hey, Sam, come on out here and sit down.

No, no ... . he couldn't think of interrupting my exercises. Best thing in the world ... . . keep in trim. He wants me to come in and do my exercises while he has a drink. It's no good to tell him that I'm all through ... . . he's positive that he interrupted me, and besides ... .

"Come to talk to you," he says, "Rather you were doing something while I tell you about it."

So I have to go into the bedroom. I haven't the faintest fucking notion of how people exercise. I swing my arms a few times and try a few squats.

"You've got this bed mussed up plenty," Sam notices. He seems to be wondering about something.

"Yeah... . sure... ." I try hopping over the foot of the bed to show him how I get the bed mussed, and I land on my puss. Suddenly I realize that if I don't keep exercising Sam is likely to hear Snuggles under the bed. Christ, I can't keep up this bending and stretching and floor thumping forever.

"Sam," I beg, "let's go into the other room. I've done all the exercises now."

It's a struggle but I get him out of there. I can't close the bedroom door because there isn't any. There used to be one, but that was before I ever moved in.

What Sam has to tell me is the same thing that Snuggles has already told me.

But it takes him the better part of an hour to get his little confession off his mind. And all that time I'm waiting for Snuggles to make a noise ... maybe a fart or something. I'm farting myself. In the first ten minutes I'm a nervous wreck.

The worst part of it is that I have to be patient and sympathetic with Sam, when what I'd really like to do is toss him out on his ass. And I have to give him advice... . I haven't figured out yet why a man who can make money in the best American tradition ... . rags to riches ... . . could be coming to a half-assed newspaperman for advice on anything, but Sam seems to have the notion that I know all there is to be known about this sort of thing.

"Should I put her in school and just drop her out of my life?" He asks me, "Or should I ask Ann for a divorce? First that other little girl ... Tania ... and now my own daughter! Alf, when I get back home I'm going to have my head examined."

I have to cheer him up. I have to give him some wine and assure him that it will all be all right, that everything will clear itself up in the end. And I'm a Hell of a long way from believing that it will all be all right in the end. From where I'm standing this looks like one of the fuckingest stews that anybody ever got themselves into ... . . and that includes me... . .

Sam talks his head off, and when the hour is up he hasn't gotten anywhere.

The only thing that's been accomplished is that I've argued him out of confessing everything to Ann. Finally he looks at his watch ... . he has an appointment and I don't try to keep him. I get him out as fast as I can, promising that I will talk to him some more about this matter ...

When I'm sure that he's gone down the stairs and won't come popping back in I go into the bedroom and look under the bed. Snuggles is lying on her back playing with herself, having a fine time. I drag her out, and she climbs into bed, wiggling her ass at me.

"Why the Christ didn't you leave things alone?" I yell at her. "Hell, you could have fucked anybody but your father... ."

"I'm a bitch," she says. "I thought he'd have a big cock. He did have a big cock.

I'm going to try to get him to fuck me again ... . ."

"You little bitch of misery, I hope he gets wise to himself and smacks your ass off! What do you suppose your mother married him for? So you could fuck him?

Like hell! So she could screw him! It's her business to screw him, not yours! She can give him all he needs... ... ."

"Well, she's busy fucking you or somebody all the time. And why shouldn't I let my father fuck me? He's nice... . . I've known him all my life! How long have I known you? Why you're almost a stranger... ."

Stranger or not, she pounces on my dong and starts jerking me off. She kneels across my legs as I sit on the bed and rubs the raspberry nipples of her bubs on my cock and my balls. Johnny begins to come to attention, and she slides farther over, rubbing him with her belly. And there's her little soft ass just waiting for me... . .

She doesn't know what's happening until about the third time my hand comes down on her bare behind. Then she starts kicking and squalling as though she were being murdered. I spank her ass and her round thighs so hard that my hand aches... .

"You're not going to fuck your father again! Promise!"

Like hell she'll promise. She's an obstinate cunt, and the more I paddle her ass, the more obstinate she becomes.

"I will fuck him! I will I will I will I will I will I will!"

I spank her some more. And much good it does. Her ass turns pink, but she just sings louder without changing her tune much.

"I will fuck him! And ... and I'll suck him off too! I don't care how much you spank me, I will! I'll fuck him right in front of my mother if I want to! Spank me harder ... . see if I care! Spank me as hard as you want to ... . I'll do it even if you do make me promise not to!"

Spank me harder! The bitch! I give up. I should have learned by now that you can spank a cunt into fucking you or sucking you off but once they've had a piece of ass you can't spank them out of wanting it. I stop mauling her and Snuggles crawls over me on the bed... ...

"Now fuck me!" she sobs. "You've made my ass hot ... . fuck me!"

I'll make her ass a hell of a lot hotter than it is ... . I turn her onto her belly and get behind her. I squeeze John Thursday's head into her fig and fuck the rest of him in after it. She's small, even though she just sucked me off, and it's a tight fit, but there's plenty of juice and he goes in all right. I fuck her until I've got her squirming, until she's groaning for the next shove up in her womb. Then I pop Johnny out.

She doesn't have a chance now ... . I put one arm tightly around her middle and grab my cock with the other hand. Zingo ... . up against her rectum. She hops like a sparrow when she feels the head of my dong going up her ass, but she can't stop it. Christ, I don't see why she doesn't split ... to hear her carrying on you'd think it already had.

 

She won't fuck her father, she wails ... . she won't do anything I don't want her to ... . if I'll only take my prick out of her rectum. She'll be a good girl, she howls. She'll promise anything... . .

I'm past caring whether or not she lets Sam screw her. She can shit in his soup for all of me. What I want is to keep my cock in her behind and get some more of it in there. I want to fuck the piss out of her, but all I'm succeeding in doing is fucking a river of juice out of her fig... . .

"Play with my cunt if you're going to do that!" she gasps. "I can't stand that feeling inside me... . ."

I tell her to play with her own cunt ... . and she does, the dirty little bitch! She opens it up with one hand and uses the fingers of the other to poke herself with.

Finally I stick a couple of fingers in too. Then I'm filling her ass with jism and she's coming, raising the roof ... ... ... .

 

Ann is up in the air and Sam has the shakes. I can't say that I really blame either of them very much. Of course Ann helped to bring on the things that are bothering her, but poor Sam... ... .

Ernest delivered the pictures to Ann. Wonderful pictures, when I consider how drunk we were at the time. But Ann simply couldn't appreciate them. Especially, she was horrified by all the pictures of herself with a half a dozen bozos she'd never seen in her life. First she accused Ernest of faking them, but he knocked that idea out of her head immediately. When she finally caught on that she'd actually been laid by those bozos, that there were half a dozen strange men running around Paris with as intimate a knowledge of her anatomy as is possible, she raised a marvelous rumpus. So Ernest says ... . I haven't talked to her myself and perhaps it's just as well I haven't. He was afraid, at least so he tells me, to let her know that we'd charged them a little something for the privilege ... . .

Anyway, she bought that camera from him ... . and if I know Ernest she probably bought the negatives as well. Also if I know Ernest, she probably didn't get the negatives until a few thousand prints had been made from them. Ernest says she turned green when she saw the first one ... . a nice juicy one of her with one cock in her mouth, another in her cunt, and three guys lined up waiting in the background. And she didn't appreciate at all the trouble it was to get her to suck those dicks without completely waking her up ... . .

As for Sam's little trouble ... that's Snuggles, naturally. A couple of days ago he was taking a little afternoon snooze and woke up to find her sucking him off.

He's been more or less drunk ever since. Every time he begins to sober up he decides that he's going to make a clean breast of it to Ann and then I have to get him started again. It's beginning to bother his nerves ... and mine too. This can't go on forever ... he's either got to stay stinking for the rest of his life or figure a better out than he's found so far. He keeps telling me about it... .

"I half woke up, Alf," he'll say ... and here we have a drink, ... "and I felt her working on my cock. Christ almighty, I thought I was dreaming ... . I thought it was Ann ... I don't know what I thought. But I didn't move. I let her go on ... . I closed my eyes for a few minutes more and let her suck it... . She was pulling the skin back ... you know how a woman does, I don't have to tell you that ... . and she was rubbing my balls in her hands... . My own daughter; God damn it! That sweet little girl! By Jesus, I know who's at the bottom of this ... . it's that Tania bitch! She put her up to it, one way or another! Oh, God damn that Tania! I wish I'd never fucked her! Why didn't you tell me not to let Snuggles go out with that dirty little pervert? Why didn't I have enough sense to see, when Tania began to act the way she did, that I had to get Snuggles away from her?"

We think this over, Sam and I, for a few minutes. Since there doesn't seem to be any satisfactory answer to most of the questions that come up we pile up another pair of saucers and I wait for Sam to go on. Hell, I could tell him the whole story backward by now, but it does him good to talk, I suppose.

"I let her suck it," he repeats. "I let her go on until I was almost ready to come, waking up little by little. Then, gradually, I began to realize that it was Snuggles who was doing that... . God, what a moment! I hope to Christ that you never have to live through a moment like that, Alf!"

I hope so, too. In fact, I'll take damned good care to see that it doesn't happen that I do.

"Then, when I did realize what was going on, I... ... I don't know what got into me. I must have been crazy for a few minutes. I looked at her ... and she winked at me, just like that damned Tania cocksucker ... and I grabbed her head and sat up. She was on her knees beside the couch, and I kept her there ... I began to call her filthy names... " At this point Sam usually becomes pretty vague about the details but it all comes to one thing: the girl sucked him off, finished it the way a sucking ought to be finished ... . "and then I saw that she was swallowing

... . she'd almost sucked my nuts dry... ." But here's something that bothers him almost as much as what he himself did to her ... . . How did she ever learn to do such a thing? From Tania, of course ... . but who could the man be? Or men!

How many men do you suppose ... . oh it's awful to have to ask yourself such questions about your own daughter! What man could be low enough to do a thing like that to a girl as young as she is? Except me ... . her father... ."

Sometimes when he says that Sam gives me a very peculiar look, which I wish he would get over. I don't know whether he's really suspicious of me or not.

There's a question on his mind, but he can't quite make up his mind to ask it.

"I tried to learn that when she was doing it ... . when I was calling her those names ... . and ... all that. I kept asking her who she's sucked off before, how many men ... . but she wouldn't answer... ... .

I breathe easier here, but I still don't feel very damned comfortable. If they get in bed again Snuggles is likely to spill the soup ... . . and something tells me that there's a Hell of a good chance that they will get in bed. Once something like this is started it doesn't simply die overnight.

"Of course I could take a strap to her and beat it out of her," Sam says. "That's what my father would have done to me if I... . . I mean ... . you know what I mean. But I can't bear to even think about asking her. I'm almost afraid to go back to the hotel at all..."

All I can do is hope that whatever happens happens damned quick and gets itself over with. I can't stand having my nerve up like this and I can't stay drunk much longer; I can't eat a thing when I'm drunk this way, even though I manage to get a little soup down when I go to the office and do my act which is called working, and I'm slowly starving to death.

 

Billie calls, bringing Jean as a sort of present to me, or perhaps I'm the present for Jean ... . I haven't got that quite straight yet. Billie may be trying to soothe Jean for what happened with Ann.

 

It's in the evening, and I've just gotten up after being in bed for two days. I wasn't sick ... . I was sleeping. I simply couldn't take it any longer, so I managed to give Sam the shake at last. I ditched him in a whorehouse ... he's in safe hands, it's a high class dump ... . and I hope to Jesus he stays there for a few days. They'll take good care of him in that place, they're nice girls and I know them all... .

As I was saying, Billie arrives with Jean, and I've seldom been as glad to see anyone in my life as I am to see that Lesbian bitch and her cunt. It's not only that I feel that I need a good fuck to get some of this bad blood out of my system

... . I want to see somebody who isn't too mixed up with the things that have been happening these past few days. Then I find out that Ann and Billie have been playing tag with each other. Oh well ... . I'm still glad to see them.

It's been a long time since any cunt has made a meal for me. I think that the little Chink was the last one. But when they find that I've just gotten up and was going out to feed myself Billie and Jean get busy and get something started. That means that somebody has to go to buy things, and going to buy things means that Jean goes. Billie sits down and tells me about her affair with Ann.

Billie isn't very explicit about the juicy details ... the main point is that Ann found out what she wanted to know about women like Billie. Billie went to see her with some more sketches, they went out somewhere in the evening, and Ann screwed up her nerve to ask Billie to stay all night. They hopped into bed and there the fun started. Now Ann knows all. Don't I think that's interesting?

I certainly do think it's interesting. I'd also like to know if that's all there's going to be to it ... . . or does Billie plan to carry on a love affair with Ann? On that point Billie isn't positive. It appears to be one of those things which is simply left up in the air when somebody goes home in the morning. But she's amused because Jean has acted a little jealous ever since.

Jean comes back and the two cunts put together a meal for us all. Luckily I've got a table and some dishes ... one place I lived in had a couple of planks that you were supposed to put across chairs. A table is a nice thing to have because you can always feel somebody up under it. Jean and I play with each other all through the meal. Billie knows what's going on, but she doesn't mind. Pretty soon she gets interested, though, and begins to play with Jean too. There we sit, me with my cock in Jean's hand, Jean with her skirt up to her ass, and God only knows what Billie's doing ... but we all go on talking about how hard it is to get good bologna or some fucking thing like that. It's idiotic.

Jean breaks down first. She doesn't want a second cup of coffee, she says.

She's got hot pants, and she wants to take her clothes off. She gives my dong an extra hard squeeze and gets up from the table, giving her ass a shake to straighten her skirt. She goes to the couch and lies down, giving us plenty of bare thigh to look at while we decide what to do about her.

"You brought me here so that he could screw me," she says to Billie at last.

"Why don't you go away so he can do it?"

Billie doesn't think that she ought to be chased out. After all, she says, she's watched me lay Jean before.

"You always want to watch me get fucked," Jean complains. "I believe you like to believe I'm a pig."

Billie says that she is a pig ... . a particularly dirty kind of a pig. And all this is being said in the most pleasant way imaginable. It's a sort of nice and soothing thing to listen to... . .

"You're a promiscuous cocksucker," Billie tells Jean.

"So are you, Jean fires back. "Don't forget, I watched you suck Alf off... . ."

"Not a promiscuous cocksucker, Jean ... . I've never yet come home with jism on my brassiere where it dribbled off my chin."

"No, I notice ... . you swallow it, don't you?"

This sort of thing goes on for some time. It could go on all night, and I'd just sit there and listen. It's so peaceful, sitting there with a dong on and listening to those two beautiful cunts saying sweet, nasty things to each other... . .

"Tell us about the boy who rubbed shit in your face," Billie suggests gently.

She sits next to Jean and starts feeling her up, pulling up her dress to give a pinch on that sweet ass we've both been squeezing.

"I'm not going to talk to you," Jean says ... and she's blushing, too. Shit, maybe somebody did do that to her.

Billie gives Jean a good feeling up before she begins to undress her. She knows just how to make Jean hot too, and pretty soon Jean is reaching under Billie's skirt, feeling for that hairy fig she's always eating and never finishing.

Billie pulls Jean's pants off and holds her skirt up.

"I'm going to show Alf your cunt, Jean," she says, "because I don't think he wants it at all. What will you do if he doesn't want to fuck you?"

"I don't want you to show it to him," Jean says. "If I want him to see it I'll show it to him myself! Why don't you show him yours, you bitch?"

"He's seen it," Billie assures her, "And he's fucked it, too... ."

She pulls Jean's skirt up to her belly and turns the works towards me. Jean kicks, and the red light flashes on and off. Billie tickles her in the crotch. Jean grabs Billie's skirt and pulls it half off baring her ass. Christ if my dong got much harder than it is now I could break rocks with it... . .

"What are you trying to do?" Billie demands. "You want him to see that thing you suck every night, is that it? Then I'll show it to him ... but you'll have to show what you use it for, you little pervert! You dirty little cunt sucker!"

"I'm more of a woman than you are," Jean yells at her. By this time she's gotten Billie's skirt so tangled up that Billie simply kicks her way out of it. Both of them are bare-assed, they wrestle across the couch. Billie is trying to push Jean onto the floor, and Jean is trying to get the rest of Billie's clothes off. It occurs to me that if they play like this every night it must be hell on their clothes... ...

"You're a dirty ass-licking whore!" Billie insists. "Would you call a man a man

... . a real man ... . if you learned that he was a cocksucker? Then why do you think you're a real woman? Bitch lover! Teat chaser!"

Suddenly in the midst of all this they quiet down; it's exactly as though someone had pressed a button. They seem to melt into each other's arms, and they begin to pet and kiss each other. Jean is rubbing Billie's cunt and Billie is opening Jean's blouse. When she has Jean's teats out Billie kisses them and sucks the nipples.

"I'll suck you off now if you're ready," Jean whispers.

"No ... I'll suck you off," Billie says.

"No, I'm the woman," Jean says, "You're my husband ... . . I have to suck you off."

 

They take the rest of their clothes off and then Jean slips off the couch and between Billie's legs. Billie lies back and raises her ass so that Jean can get at her con, and Jean starts to kiss her. Jean begins at Billie's toes and works up to her bubs, then licks her way back down to Billie's fig again.

Jean may be, as she says, all woman, but she likes Billie as much as she could like anyone. Christ, she almost eats her up. She bites Billie's belly, licks her teats and kisses her thighs ... . soon she's rubbing her nose into Billie's split fig, holding the thing open with her fingers so that she can get her nose further into it. Then she shoves her tongue into it and really goes up in it.

"Oh, it's nice and juicy tonight!" she says as soon as she's gotten a taste of it.

"And you have that Orange Blossom perfume in your hair, haven't you... ."

"You gave yourself away that time," Billie says, pressing her knees together to hold Jean better. "That's Ruth's perfume! I thought you'd been sucking her!

Admit it now, you lying little fucker ... . you let her put you on her knees, didn't you?"

"Just ... . just a little ... ..." Jean has to confess.

"Just a little! I'll have to put a leash on you, like the bitch you are, if I don't want you running around with your tongue out! You just wait ... next time Ruth comes to see us I'm going to make you suck her off right in front of whoever's there ... . . and I don't care who it is! Put your tongue in now! Lick it! Now, that's enough ... . you're going to suck my ass now... ."

Jean doesn't even argue about that. Billie turns over and sticks her rear out for Jean to kiss, and Jean simply lays her hands on Billie's ass and goes after it.

She licks every part of Billie's ass, the backs of her legs ... . even her heels this time. Then she puts her lips over Billie's rectum.

I'd come in my drawers if I didn't get into this soon. Jean Jeudi is on the warpath. He's bristling his feathers, and he acts as though he might crow at any minute. I might be patient, but he can't be; he isn't as smart as I am.

Neither of these cunts know I'm after them until I'm on top of them. Then Billie turns around, and probably because she saw me first, I hop on her. I jump onto the couch and wave my prick under her nose.

Billie doesn't want to have anything to do with my dick, but I wrap myself around her like a monkey on a pole and rub it in her face. That doesn't make her like it any more, but I'm not worried about whether she likes it or not. I stick the end against her red mouth and wet her lips with it. Jean looks up at us from somewhere under Billie's ass ... she's still sucking like a good girl... ...

It takes some persuasion and a hell of a lot more actual force before I get what I want. But Billie isn't a bad sort at heart ... . she thinks of herself as being almost a man, so she can sympathize with the way I feel... . Finally she lets me put it into her mouth and she starts to suck it. But while I'm trying to decide whether I'll let Johnny blow his head off that way or not, Jean hops onto the couch too. She wants to be screwed, she says, and it's a shame to waste that cock on Billie when Billie doesn't really appreciate it.

"You like my little whore, don't you"" Billie asks me. "Just wait until I get her broken in right, though ... I'll make a real bitch of her yet... ."

I don't know what she means by that ... . Jean is a bitch if I've ever seen one

... not the nasty kind; the fucking kind. Whatever Billie does to her, she couldn't be much of an improvement over what she is right now ... . I start screwing her and she wiggles back at me, reaching up to give Billie a pinch on the teats ... . .

Billie wants to have her cunt sucked, so we roll over, on our sides, and she wiggles her ass down between our faces. Jean pokes her face between Billie's thighs and I lean my head over Billie's hip so that I can watch her.

Jean likes being watched, and she does a really nice job on Billie. She licks her bush and then digs her tongue into Billie's wet split, and the wetter Billie's cunt gets the better she fucks me. She gets her nose soaked, she gets cunt juice over her chin ... . and she makes a noise which occasionally sounds vaguely like a toilet plunger... . She makes it seem so nice that I begin to feel like trying some of that myself. I bite Billie's ass and stick my finger up under her tail to tickle the place that Jean is sucking.

Billie seems to guess what's on my mind ... she turns over and gives her ass to Jean, throwing that soaked mop and that open, dripping con right in my face.

She doesn't try to push it onto my mouth ... she just waits to see what I'll do.

Hell, this isn't any time to be formal ... . Jean and I look at each other between Billie's thighs. I've got my tail into her to what I should say was about three feet, but which probably isn't more than two and a half; and we're both so completely hot that we're off our trolleys.

 

Jean sticks her tongue out and takes a very deliberate lick at Billie's ass. Then she takes another one. Then, next thing I know, she's reached across and stuck her tongue into my mouth. That lousy, dirty cunt! I'm so sore that I can't think of anything to do but to lick Billie's cunt and spit the juice at her ... but I only think about it.

Billie's cunt has a wonderful smell. I put my nose into her mop and just lie there sniffing it for a couple of minutes. If Orange Blossom, as Jean says, then I like Orange Blossom ... . but to me it just smells like a nice clean con ... I kiss it finally, and then lick it. Jean's tongue and mine meet between Billie's thighs. I start to suck, and so does Jean. Billie goes wild... . .

Suddenly Billie's come. She's come and she's pouring juice. There's too much for me to handle by myself; so each time that I get a mouthful of it I move back, Billie shoves her ass towards Jean, and Jean gobbles some of it up.

Jean must be screwed silly. She begins to laugh, and for a minute I think that she's going to become hysterical. I give her a slap on the ass and she doesn't laugh quite so hard.

"Don't worry officer," she giggles, "I'll come quietly."

She does, too. I don't know when she begins to come or when she stops, but somewhere in between I come. My cock simply pours into her, and I stick my face back against Billie's cunt and suck at it while I fill Jean's womb. That Lesbian and her girl friend have given me the most satisfactory fuck I've had in weeks ... .

.

 

End of the ride. End of a long, long ride. Finish, all over, all done. Now I'm beginning to wonder where I got on this merry-go-round, and why this is the particular place where I get off. Well, one place is as good as another, I suppose.

The trick is not to get so dizzy while you're going round that you can't walk straight when you get off. This way to the Ferris wheel, and the roller coaster.

They take you nowhere in an even more breathtaking manner.

Today I went down to the paper and got that little slip that I've always been looking for and never expected to see. Two weeks pay too, which went to pay up the little bills I've run up here and there in the two years I've been on the paper.

That makes me even.

 

The amusing part of it is that I was fired for a story I didn't write. So they tell me, anyway. Somehow there was a news story written and it said something about somebody who is a friend of somebody upstairs. I never saw the piece, but the point is that I was supposed to have done it. It was assigned to me on one of those days when I was helping Sam get drunk, and since there's no record of me being off ... . things on this fucking sheet being as screwed up as they are ... . I'm the bozo who's credited with it. No use kicking, of course ... . I'd just get some other poor bastard fired, some guy with a wife and eight kids. It's always the guys with a wife and eight kids who are doing somebody else's work ... . they're always so scared of losing their own jobs that they can't bear to see anyone else get in bad. So I'm even all around. I've been drawing my checks for a long time without doing anything, now I get sacked for the same reason. It's uncanny.

Well, I have my walking papers, so I sit down to clean out my desk. Can't clean out my desk ... . there's nothing in it; I never put anything there. All I really want to do is goose the snotty looking blonde who comes through the news room every now and then with her tail feathers in the air, but she's not around.

On the street I begin to feel wonderfully exhilarated. Even though I never spent much more than an hour a day at that office I feel marvelously free of the place. I mooch along the streets wondering where I'll go first ... like a kid who's playing hookey. It's a fine day: I feel great... .

Suddenly I remember that I'm going to be broke when I pay my rent. Just for the hell of it I decide to go and see Sam. Sam ought to be good for some kind of a shakedown. There are a thousand things I can do for Sam. Shit, if I have to I can bounce Carl out of this phoney art racket of his, but I don't think I'll have to do anything like that.

I walk to Sam's hotel, trying to figure out something to sell him. Or, maybe, I think, I ought to just tell him I've lost my job because I got drunk with him ... . .

he'd have to support me then. Anyway, I'm not worried.

I ring the bell at his place a couple of times, but nothing happens. I'm just turning away when the door pops open and there's Sam, wearing a union suit.

He seems to be pretty drunk ... . .

"Come in ... . come in ... ." he shouts at me. "Do you have any friends with you? Bring them in if you have!"

 

He closes the door after me and picks up a bottle from a table, motioning me toward the bedroom with it.

"She's in there," he says to me, "Go in and fuck her... ."

I don't know what he's talking about until I get into the bedroom... Tania comes into my mind. But it's not Tania. Ann is lying on the bed, stark naked.

"Go ahead ... . fuck her," Sam urges me. "Have a drink first."

"Hey, now look, Sam ... ."

"Don't tell me she's not worth fucking," he says, "I know better. I have proof!"

he grabs a pile of papers from a drawer and shoves them under my nose. They're not papers ... . they're the pictures we took of Ann that night. He pushes them into my hands and goes to the bed. I look toward the door to be certain I can get there in a hurry if I want to ... . but it doesn't look as though Sam was going to wave a pistol or anything like that. He pulls Ann off the bed and gives her a shove in my direction.

"Suck him off now, you whore!" he yells at her. "I've seen all the pictures ...

now let me see you do it!"

Ann's pretty drunk too. She wobbles toward me and goes down to her knees in front of me. I try to break away from her, but she's got my legs in her arms. She kisses the front of my pants and puts her fingers into my fly.

It's so crazy and frightening that I seem to have become petrified. I don't know if they've gone nuts or I have. I watch Ann take my dong out and lick it... . Then she puts it into her mouth ... . .

"Snuggles!" Sam roars.

Snuggles comes hopping in from another room. She's naked too, but she doesn't look scared. That's a good sign ... if Sam had gone nuts she'd be pissing in her pants.

"Come on over to the bed," Sam says. "You, too, Alf. Come on, fuck them both

... you've done it before. I'll fuck them both too ... . I've done it before... ."

"Listen, Sam," I say, "what the Jesus is this? ... What's going on!"

"Why this is Paris, my boy!" he shouts. "Paris, where everything happens, where you learn things you never knew about yourself! And your family!" He pulls Snuggles to him and she grabs his cock. He sets her on his knee and plays with her figlet while he's yelling at me... . . "I want to meet these friends of yours

 

... . this Ernest fellow, and Sid. And that fairy brother of Tania's, too ... . I think I'd enjoy watching a fairy fuck my wife! Maybe I'll let him suck me off afterward, if he does a good job of it! Bring them all around ... . all but that bastard Carl. I just want to meet the people who've been fucking my family for me!"

He pushes Snuggles on her ass and yells for Ann to come over and suck his prick for awhile. Then he decides that he wants them both to do it, taking turns.

"We're going to have a big party tonight, Alf," he says. "Lesbians and everything ... . somebody named Billie took my wife to bed with her! AND my daughter ... . mustn't forget Snuggles! Champagne and cunt for everybody! I'm going to have Tania here ... . . and Alexandra! I'm going to out-Paris Paris... ."

"Sam, I think you're making a mistake... ."

"Not any more, Alf! Here, why don't you fuck somebody, why don't you screw one of these bitches for me? I'm killing myself trying to handle both of them ... . if they wouldn't suck each other off I'd be dead already!"

"Sam, look, if you act crazy like this you're going to make a lot of trouble for yourself... . You've got a business to take care of... ...

"Business? What business? I don't have ... oh, you mean that thing with Severin? Well, fuck Severin! And that piss ant Carl, too. That bastard Carl always did get on my nerves... . No, that's gone overboard..."

"But Sam, what to Jesus are you going to do?"

"Do? I'm going to have some fun. I'm going to find out just what these two bitches of mine are... . . I'll drag out every fucking bit of slime in them! I hear that you fellows made a little profit on this whore wife of mine the other night... . .

maybe I'll try that myself! No ... I can think up something better than that... .

And when I've found out everything there is to know about them, do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to beat the ass off both of them and take them back to America! They wanted Paris... . I'll give them the Paris they can stand!"

I'm standing there with my cock hanging out not knowing what I'm supposed to do or say. I've never run into anything like this ... . I didn't even know that things like this happened. I still have a feeling that all isn't right in Sam's upper story. He wants to know if I'd like to to see Ann and Snuggles play tete-beche.

"Sam... . I haven't got the time right now. I just came around to tell you I'm off the paper... ."

 

"Got kicked out of your job, did you? Well, it's about time that they caught onto you. How much do you want to borrow?"

"I don't want to borrow anything, Sam. I want you to give me some money."

"Now you're talking, by Jesus! Come right out and ask for it! How much do you want? Say it in American money... ."

He's waving a check book already. I take a chance and name twice the amount I really need for what I'm going to do. Then I translate it into francs for him. I grab at that check like a drowning man grabbing for a nice big lifeboat... ...

"If you want some more money tomorrow come around... Oh, that's right ... .

you'll be around tonight to help me screw these cunts, won't you?"

I run for the door before he can change his mind. And on the street I run for the taxi to take me to the bank. I am running away, and I am not going to stop running. I am not going to stop running until I have bought a ticket to America on Sam's money and am on the boat. And when I get to America I am going to run some more. I am running away, and I am not going to stop running until I have put a lot of ocean between me and Sam Backer, Ann, Snuggles, Tania, Alexandra and the rest of these crazy bitches who have slowly been driving me nuts for the last year or so. I am going to America and I am going to buy or make or have made a good mechanical cunt, a fucking machine, which runs by electricity and which can be pulled out of the wall socket when the fuses begin to blow and the trouble starts.