by Paul Slatter
And Dan said, “No.”
He took it easy as he cruised along through the downtown core, the woman telling him her name was Jane, Dan not forgetting to ask this time. Jane there with him now letting her skirt ride up so as he could see her stockings. She said, “Nice car. Why don’t you put your foot down and let it pull me back into the seat ?”
Dan, taking it easy, playing it cool, said, “That’s not me.”
She said, “I’ve got family staying—you taking me back to the penthouse?”
Still looking at her titties and getting hard at the same time, Dan said, “I live lower.”
Jane smiled, saying, “I like lower.”
Dan said, “Quite a lot lower actually.”
Jane told him with her hand on his leg she didn’t care how low or where he took her as long as he took her. Dan wished the car would go faster so he could get her home.
“My pussy’s so wet,” was all Jane said when he pulled the Ferrari up outside his mother’s place and turned off the engine—happy, for once, to see Chendrill’s Aston not parked in his spot.
Then wrapping her hand around the back of his head, she pulled him towards her, kissed him, opening her legs slightly as her lips left his, saying, “Feel me down there, feel what you’re doing to me.” And he did, twisting himself around and slowly slipping his left hand up her short skirt, feeling her stocking tops and the wetness beneath the silk of her knickers. Pulling him into her, she said, “You see.” Just before she kissed him again and gasped as she felt him slide his fingers inside her.
They got out, Dan telling her they need to be quiet as he walked up the path, Jane on her tip toes in her high heel slip-ons, Dan telling her he’s looking after his aunt’s cat for the week because she’s in hospital and staying in the basement because he can’t stand the crochet doilies. Jane crept down the stairs into his room, having him leave the side light on so she could see his body as he undressed, her dropping out of her dress, keeping her stockings on just for him and laying on his unmade bed, not caring about the mess.
Dan undressed, his dick almost popping itself out the front of his Y fronts, Jane laying back watching, wishing he had the silver ones on. She said, “I’m so horny, Dan. I want to suck your cock so bad, I want to suck it, lick it up and down your shaft, lick your balls, lick your ass. I want to lick it, stick my tongue right inside. Then I want you to fuck my throat, fuck it deep, then fuck my pussy—fuck it real hard, Dan, fuck my pussy till I come and fuck me deep in the ass too until I come again.”
And as he heard the filth pour from her mouth as she lay back waiting for him to come to her, Dan’s body began to shudder as the now familiar feeling of panic overwhelmed him and right there and then in his underpants, he came, as he had many times before.
Jane looked at him understanding right away what had just happened and, opening her legs to him, said, “I don’t care, come here lick my pussy while I lick all the come from around your crotch.”
And that’s what she did, leaning forward and pulling his Y fronts down, stuck his now spent semi-hard cock in her mouth, sucking it, wanking it with her hand and licking and pulling up as much of his come as she could from around his balls and wherever she could find it. Then when she could find no more, she pulled him onto the bed and kissed him hard, sticking her tongue into his mouth, licking all around his teeth and as far into the back of his throat as she could get as she grabbed his hand, forcing it between her legs, pushing his fingers inside her, making him fingerbang her as her pussy got more and more wet until she began to tense up, shudder, and groan as her juices began to run from inside, soaking the sides of her legs and gushing out onto Dan’s hands and legs. Then she said to Dan as she pulled her tongue from his mouth, “You like that do you, feeling me come like that? You want me to fuck your face, don’t you? You want me to squirt come like that on your face, don’t you?”
He didn’t, in fact he wanted her to leave.
Then before he could get a word in, she spun around, taking his still semi-hard cock in her mouth and licking it, swirling her tongue around and around its end with the softest of touches, making him groan with pleasure. Then suddenly in an instant, he felt himself getting hard again as she took him deep down into her throat, caressing the top of his penis with the back of her throat and sucking both of his balls into her mouth and licking them and playing with them with her tongue. Dan began to call out with pleasure. He’d never felt anything like it in his life—not even the vacuum cleaner or a jar of liver from the fridge heated in the microwave came close. He called out loud, “Ahh—Ahhh—Ahhh!”
As he felt himself coming uncontrollably again, he heard the strange banging from above. Then Jane took him out of her mouth and burying her face into his backside, licked his ass, crazily prodding and poking inside him as she pushed and forced her tongue inside him as he groaned more, her hand wanking his cock, still soaked with her slippery saliva.
Then she pulled her mouth out of his ass and spun around and kissed him again all over his face, licking and dribbling all around his eyes and nose and his mouth. Then she pulled back and said, “Now it’s my turn.”
And she pushed him back onto the bed and, back to front, straddled his face with his nostrils in direct line with her ass, she began to ride and fuck his face, twisting around to him so as she could look at him as she forced herself on him, leaning over, giving him instructions, saying, “Use your tongue, get it inside me.”
She rubbed her juices into his face, pushing herself onto him, calling out and groaning as she said, “Work it, yeah, work it, work it.” Dan felt the stubble from her shaved pussy digging into his skin like something his mother used to clean the bath with. She carried on pushing herself onto him harder, rubbing her clitoris on the bottom of his chin and her ass on his broken nose that now hurt as he felt her tense and build again, then she pushed harder, rubbing herself onto him with twice the force, her pussy juices running over his face as he tried to lift her off him but couldn’t. Then suddenly she lifted herself up and, ignoring the banging from above and screaming with pleasure, ejaculated her fluids, squirting them hard and fast all over his face, mouth, neck, and chest.
Then Dan heard his mother from upstairs calling through the ceiling saying, “Dan, Dan! What on earth are you doing down there?”
And getting up, Dan said, “Oh, shit it’s my mum.”
Then he heard her coming down the stairs and banging on his basement room door. The woman saying, “Your mum?”
Trish asked, “Daniel, who have you got in there?”
Then with a thump, Trish forced the door open, breaking the little lock Dan put in for when he was wanking, and the ugly fluorescent lights came on—harsh and bluey green coming down from the ceiling lighting the room up bright for the world to see. Trish looked straight to the woman seeing her hair all wet and her makeup smeared and said, “Who the fuck are you?”
Then she looked to Dan, his face rubbed raw and his bottom lip bleeding and screamed, “What have you just done to my child.”
Dan said, “It’s okay, this is Jane, she’s my girlfriend.”
His mother screamed back, “She’s older than me, Dan! I’m surprised there’s not a set of dentures sitting in a glass by the bed!”
And from the way Dan’s dick had been feeling a few minutes earlier, so was he. Then he saw his mother open the door wide and say to his new girlfriend Jane, “Get out of here you fucking hag, and stay away from my child!”
As Dan had always said so far throughout his short life, ‘my mother has a temper.’ And that was that.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
They’d all been sitting together around the boardroom table at Slave looking like a Neapolitan cake, Patrick wearing brown, Buffy in crème, and Mazzi in complete denial in pink—and it was making Sebastian hungry. There were three things to discuss—the script first, which was being sorted. Adalia Seychan was coming up today on short notice for a photo shoot the following morning with Dan to get people’s ta
ste buds moistened—Mazzi was in charge—and while they had her here, Sebastian would pitch her about a six-week commercial that would take them all around the world after the movie was finished—or before, if it all fell through. And lastly Dan, who’d they’d just been told was about to be charged with stealing a taxi.
Chendrill was late, having been up all night, he’d said, doing God knows what, when he was supposed to be keeping his eye on their latest hot star—which in a way was the fourth topic, but rather than side bar it for later, Sebastian had decided to let it go. “After all,” he’d said, “we don’t own the man.”
Half an hour later, he was in, along with Dan, with his face all red and scratched and his lips swollen. Sebastian said, “Daniel darling, what on earth has happened? Have you been in another fight?”
In some ways, yes he had, Dan thought. Then answered, “No,” and, sitting down, he put his feet up on a chair as he liked to do there, and carried on, “’Cos you’ve made me a model, I had one of them facial scrubs, you know, trying to look young.”
Sebastian knew all about youth-enhancing cleansing scrubs, having had a few acid peel sessions himself; and for that matter, so had Mazzi—because God knows how many times over the years he had seen him come to work looking like Dan. He said, “You are young Daniel dear—don’t become obsessive.”
Then Dan said, “What do you want anyway? I was asleep.” As he proceeded to stare out the window.
Sebastian carried on, “Daniel, there’s a rumour spreading around that you’re about to be arrested for car theft.”
Dan looked over to Sebastian, then at Mazzi Hegan, and wondered how many times he’d stolen his car—and Chuck Chendrill’s—for that matter and said, “Yeah, what happened was that I’d been out on a date, took this girl home in a cab and on the way back, the cabbie had a nervous breakdown and said he couldn’t drive anymore. Said he’d been driving all day every day like they do, and he wanted to take the train back. So I did him a favor and parked it up for him in a safe place, just like he asked. You see, it was parked badly on the road and he didn’t want anyone to have an accident.”
Sebastian looked to Chendrill, who couldn’t believe he’d just heard what may have been the dumbest excuse ever come out of Dan’s mouth. Smiling, Chendrill said, “Sounds like Dan did the right thing! You know these cabbies work 24/7. It’s inevitable things like this happen.”
Sebastian stared at him for a moment thinking. There was more to this, obviously, than Chendrill was letting on—and there was, as Dan had been back in his basement making tender love to a woman twice his age and then some, Chendrill had been at the station putting out the fire Dan had started by stealing the cab. If it hadn’t been for a heads-up from Williams, it wouldn’t have been Dan’s mother who’d come crashing down into the basement, pounding on the door while he was having his face sat on.
Sebastian said, “Well that’s great then.” He stood up, looked to Patrick, and then turned to Chendrill and said, “Also, we’ve got a shoot in the morning at Iron Works Studio with Adalia Seychan. It’s all last minute and I’ve got people all over it—they’re driving her personal trailer as we speak. Dan’s involved and I need you to absolutely guarantee he’ll be there at seven a.m., Chuck. Adalia’s a sweetie, but she’s still got Hollywood written all over her, so we don’t need to be embarrassed by you being late Dan, do we? Oh, and Patrick needs you to put your missing persons hat on and find an old sweetheart, because he’d like to get a few shots of her while we’re there if she’s interested. I know it’s all a bit rushed, but Adalia’s a busy girl.”
Busy doing nothing, Chendrill thought and he had absolutely no doubts who he was about to be asked to find.
******
They sat in the boardroom after everyone else had gone, Dan looking out the window, Patrick at the table with Chendrill, who was leaning in and talking quietly to him, “Let it go, Patrick. The girl can’t walk. She’s in a fucking wheelchair and the marriage is struggling as it is. They don’t need you poking your nose about.”
Patrick said, “I’m just trying to get Alla working, you know, back on her feet.” He looked over and caught a grin spreading across Dan’s face at the last comment. Calling out, he said to him with a smile, “Hey Pantie Boy—could you go get us both a coffee?.”
Fuck, Dan thought, that’s twice in two days now he’d been called that—the girls weren’t kidding. He got up and turned to head for the door so as back-of-the-bus-lover-boy could spout bullshit in private, remembering the photos he’d found hidden in the trunk of Chendrill’s Ferrari just after he’d stolen it. As he passed, he said, “Don’t forget to remind her to bring the toys.”
Feeling Patrick’s eyes digging into his back as he closed the soundproof glass door behind him, Dan left. Patrick wondered how on earth the kid knew about the pictures. He said to Chendrill in a soft tone, “Fucking prick, here I am trying to make him a movie star and all I get is grief.”
Chendrill also wondered how Dan knew about the photos; looking at Patrick and thinking the same thing, he said, “I thought you’d had enough of that girl, with all that blackmail shit that went down?”
Patrick feigned frustration, and answered clearly and precisely, holding his hands out, so that right away Chendrill knew before he spoke that it was all going to be bullshit, “Look—Trust me—there was something with me and Anna before, we both know that. But—I can assure you my actions right now are nothing more than professional.”
Chendrill stared at him for a moment, giving him the look, then said, “If there’s one thing we both know, this world’s not short of beautiful actresses who need a job.”
And Patrick said, “No one’s as beautiful as Anna, Chuck, and we know each other well and trust each other. And that’s what you need—trust and loyalty.”
Chendrill said, “The girl used to be a hooker and you don’t even know her real name. It’s Alla, not fucking Anna.”
Patrick came straight back at him with, “We all wear different hats and have different names Chuck. Look at you, you’ve got three.”
Chendrill shrugged and leaned back in his chair—the realtor pretending to be a producer wasn’t wrong. Look at me, he thought, I’m a cop trying to be a private eye, pretending to be a babysitter. He said, without lying, “I’ll go see how she is.” And he would see how she was, but not see if she wanted to be a movie star so he could fuck up Dennis’s life before he’d got a chance to straighten himself out. After all, he owed them a visit.
******
Chendrill had stood and discreetly looked down at his crotch to see if he was bulging at all. He wasn’t. He’d worn the tightest underpants he could find, the loosest trousers, and his bright red Hawaiian. He’d gone home; or, he should say, he went back to Dan’s mother’s house just as Dan had left the previous evening in search of adventure, and had thought, great we have the evening to ourselves. And that’s exactly what Dan’s mother had thought the moment she saw him parking exactly where Dan’s new Ferrari had just sat for the last week.
She’d kissed him the moment he’d entered the door, a kiss born of growing love and tenderness—her lips on his, her fingers gently combing his hair, one foot unconsciously off the floor. She said lightly as she pulled back away from him, “Sorry my son’s gone out for the evening, but you can come in and wait if you’d like?”
And Chendrill had waited, waited naked in her bed, while they kissed each other, touched each other and made love all evening, slow beautiful love with him on top of her, gently pushing himself into her, feeling the sweat run from his brow, her hands on his back, her wetness inside until they’d finished and he’d rolled off and they’d laid together on the bed listening to the silence. Then he’d remembered Archall Diamond’s tablets and how Steven the pharmacist had said they were nothing more than herbs and had said, “I picked up these pills today that have been floating about and I’ve been wondering what all the fuss was about.”
“Pills for what?”
“Make yo
u’re dick hard and bigger.”
Trish leaned over, putting her hand up to prop up her head and said, “And you want to try them out?”
Grinning, Chendrill said, “I already have.”
Trish stared at him, not believing his words for a moment, then slipped her hand down under the sheets and felt him, clasping her hand around his dick, feeling it still hard against his stomach when normally things would have eased off. She said, her eyes lighting up, “Oh my God, I thought you felt a bit bigger.”
Chendrill replied, “Yeah, and I feel incredibly happy.”
It was just after midnight after an entire evening had passed without hearing Dan whack the broom into his bedroom ceiling when Chendrill’s phone had rung and he’d learned about Dan’s latest move. Despite it all, he was strangely still happy—and hard—and he’d made his excuses and again barely missed Dan coming home with the older woman.
Half an hour later, he’d met Williams, who was standing next to the two other police cars. A tall Asian police woman was dealing with a very irate taxi driver standing and looking up at the poster of Dan, shouting, “Fucking man steal my car!”
Within an hour, they were all at the police station looking at all the footage wired over from the transit police from the CCTV cameras strategically placed around the station Dan had been chased into. They saw Dan running scared along the road being chased by the wild man driving in reverse on the other side of the concrete buffers, waving his field hockey stick in a threatening manner at him out the window. Chendrill looked at the police woman who was tall and skinny enough to be a model and wondered what Dan had said to the guy in the first place to make him that mad. He said to the police woman, “Looks like he had little other choice than to use the taxi as a means to get away from this lunatic. He did the right thing in the circumstances, taking himself away from the situation and to safety by any means possible.”