by Jack Ketchum
"Just like that?" she said.
"I figure we'll start out fucking and work our way back," Stroup said.
"Okay. Only that's a new one for me. Andrew always warms me up first. He does his best to give me the most pleasure possible. He really goes out of his way. He says he'd rather give me pleasure than get pleasure himself. You're just going to take me, though, aren't you."
"Damn right."
"That's exciting."
"Sure as shit is."
"How do you feel about oral sex?" she said.
"Maybe later."
He had to hand it to her. Crazy or not she threw a mean, talented fuck. She'd turned off the lights. Said she didn't want Stroup to see the hairs on her belly. So they struggled with one another in the darkness. She was bigger than Shiela inside and with the extra room there he'd be able to go a long time before coming. He could just see that creampuff Andrew after this. He was hauling her into a whole new league. So old Andy went out of his way to give her pleasure, did he? Probably meant he tickled her armpits with a feather and nuzzled her pussy for an hour before sticking her. Well, she was going for a real ride now. And no preliminaries. He could feel the blood hurtling through his veins. He felt tough and powerful. He turned her over on her stomach and slipped it to her again.
She'd stopped talking finally. It was about fucking time she shut up. He had her wriggling like a worm here. These bitches, some of them say you can't come on the end of a guy's cock. Shiela says that. Well, take a peek at this one, Shiela. Just watch this woman tottering.
He was ramming at that wide-open gash like a cretin now. He could feel her open up around him. That made it easier. He turned her over on her back again and hit her harder, deeper. She was loose and wet as a jellyfish, starting to get real soupy, her body misted with sweat and Stroup did his damnedest to perforate her. In truth he'd been hornier. Plenty of women had made him more excited. But that wasn't exactly the point this time. This time he was balling one sloppy broad and a couple of ghosts. It was the ghosts that turned him on the most. He was thinking of Shiela and that creep Andrew. He closed his eyes and went right up Andrew's asshole. He was so good he was making Shiela's teeth chatter. Wheezing beneath him was a loony with a good wide snatch. To hell with her.
Then suddenly she grabbed Stroup around the waist with both hands, she dug her nails into him, jerked her head forward and nipped at his chest with her teeth. What now? he thought. Ah yes, she was going off. She started to quiver. Her jaw fell forward. She shut her eyes in what looked like pain. Then all at once she was yelling for him to do it do it harder, harder and Stroup felt his cock and balls bathed by something warm and thin as chicken broth. He heard her fart, the crazy bitch, felt her shudder once and then fall frail as a rag-doll back to the bed.
At first he had to smile. He'd been so good.
But there was that smell again.
Oh no, he thought. Oh god. This is not possible.
He put his hand down between them and it came up wet. His cock died inside her. He hadn't even come. He sure as hell wouldn't now.
There were probably worse things in the world but at the moment Stroup could not think of any. He'd given her the rut of a lifetime and what does she do? She ups and pisses all over him. It was fucking sick, degrading. How could a woman live like that? He'd slash his own fucking throat. That's the thanks you get for a good performance, he thought. You come out stinking like a polecat.
For about the thirteenth time that day he wished there no such thing as a woman. If it were up to him he'd have them all in a kennel. It was that damned Shiela who did this to him. He'd like to bust her one.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Sometimes that happens to me. I don't know why."
She looked miserable. Really miserable. He almost felt sorry for her.
But he was wearing her.
"It's okay," he said.
He cleaned himself up in the bathroom. Figured maybe there was one consolation. Probably Andrew got the same thing only on a daily basis. He wouldn't be surprised if she shit the bastard.
Or maybe not. Maybe it was just Stroup's bad luck again.
He wondered how much Shiela knew. It was possible that Andrew had told her about Janet's little habits. He wondered if maybe in that case he'd better just keep his trap shut about tonight altogether. She'd laugh him out of the room. Goddammit! What was the point then, if Shiela couldn't know he'd fucked her? Where was the goddamn justice in the whole damn thing?
He walked out through the bedroom into the living room. Janet was already dressed. A pile of sheets lay in the hallway. Jesus, thought Stroup, the place smells like a nursery.
"Was it all right for you, Stroup? Despite...?"
"It was fine," he said. "You're a good piece of ass, Janet. I've been thinking, though. We did this sort of in response to Shiela and Andrew. We kinda wanted to get even, y'know? I'm thinking that's no way to build a relationship, is it. I think we ought to cool it for a while. I'll call you."
"Yeah. But like I said, you were really attractive to me, Stroup. It wasn't that way for me, exactly."
"I know. Same here. You're very attractive. Let me call you, okay?"
"Sure."
She blinked at him, smiled some stupid smile at him. He thought about that piece of coleslaw in the restaurant. Later he stood outside the door for a minute. He could hear the toilet flush. He bet she was brushing her teeth again. That was a woman for you. He went back to the bar to spend a little money.
He hoped the girls were better.
It's in this story that Stroup emerges in all his misogynist, not to mention homophobic, glory. If you find anything sexy about this one it's probably time to spend a little money on a therapist. Bars like the one I've described did exist, by the way. In fact the one I used as the model for this one was a block and a half from Carnegie Hall, slightly down Sixth Avenue.
And I've not exaggerated a thing about it.
Giuliani woulda died.
SKIN GAME
Stroup finished inking in the game board and then went back to work on the instruction cards. I really should make them stiffer, he thought. No pantywaist bullshit in this one. You want it mean. One card pleased him thoroughly. No matter where you landed you were going to be involved in something pretty fucking outrageous. The card was in the last zone, the "Climax Zone" he called it. To receive your points you'd have to follow one of its instructions depending upon what quarter of the board your marker had landed, or else be set back.
The instructions for the LOOK quarter read, The player of your choice will strip completely. Then he or she will run his or her hands, nice and slowly, over whatever parts of his or her body you find most compelling. You can make those fingers go anywhere and stay there any length of time. You say when to quit.
Perfect. Make Shiela do that one, he thought. Stick those long slim fingers into that red thatch of hers—was it really going to be red?—guide them up to those terrific tits. The TOUCH quarter instructions were just as good.
Stand up and close your eyes. Your partner will bind your hands behind your back. Then all the players will bite, caress, rub and suck you to their hearts' content.
A jigger of bondage to add spice. He congratulated himself. The game was wonderful, it had everything, you couldn't fault it. I should probably get some of those his or hers out of the first one, though, he thought. Sort of awkward. He went on to the TASTE instructions.
Choose a player of the same sex. Take his or her nipple between your teeth and make it hard. Then that player will return the favor.
He wondered if Donna could be trusted to take the initiative with Shiela on that one. His bet was that she would. Donna was pretty game stuff, after all, and they'd discussed her gay fantasies often enough, god knows. Here was a chance to act on them in a totally controlled situation.
You could do things playing a board game you'd never dare to do otherwise. That was why the damn things sold so well. Over the past four months he'd made up three of them, al
l sex games of one sort or another. On commission. A thousand in advance for each with a damn good cut of the royalties. They'd sell like crazy too, through magazines and novelty shops. So that was not bad money.
Those games were pure crap, though. Nothing like this one. They were all geared up to the small-town college kid just trying to get his girl's pants down for the first time. Lots of forced boozing, a glimpse of pud and that was that.
But this was something else again. Nobody was going to buy this thing. It was much too hot. This was just for him and Donna. And if he could swing it, for Shiela too. He wondered if he should go so far as to make up an instruction card that would get Shiela to suck him off. Hell, why not? She could always refuse and lose the goddamn points. And if she chose not to...
Jesus, this was going to be fun!
The card for the MAKE LOVE quarter was really special. Get naked with the player of your choice and make love until another player asks you to please stop. Make sure the person you pick to stop you likes to watch.
No his or hers shit in that one, it was good. And he knew just the person for that third role, the perfect guy to complete their foursome. George liked to watch. He loved to watch in fact and he was queer as cut-away panties so it wouldn't be Shiela he'd be interested in watching. Fine. So what if I have to make a few gay moves here and there? Won't be the first time for that either. He liked flirting with gay guys so long as he didn't have to get involved with anything serious. Besides, he thought, George's body isn't nearly as good as mine. I'll look good by comparison. No problem getting him to play. He's been after my hairy ass for years.
George it is, then.
He worked all night and through the following day getting the cards in order. That was all there was to these games, nothing much, two or three days' work and probably five thou in the bank by the time the season was over. Lots of sales to horny kids at Christmas time. Easy work and not at all unpleasant either.
Too bad this baby'd never sell. Except maybe to Screw. Now there was an idea! Pitch the sucker to Goldstein. Certainly worth a try. Plus it would provide a kind of legitimacy to the evening, a reason for asking Shiela over. Donna could talk to her at work and tell her he was doing a road test for the hardcore market, explain it so it wouldn't sound too crazy, too weird.
You're fucking brilliant, he thought.
He packed up the cards and game board into a box and shoved them away into a closet for the time being. Then a few minutes later he pulled them out again and scrawled a few words on the cover of the box with a broad red Magic Marker. The finishing touch was always to give the thing a name.
THE SKIN GAME.
She was a real redhead all right.
What a juicy cunt, what a sweet piece of ass she is, he thought, and with all the guts you could ever ask for. They were still in the "Heavy Breathing Zone" but Shiela had drawn a Get naked, slowly card and damned if she wasn't doing it. He found himself having palpitations just watching her. The suspense was incredible. Donna was enjoying it too, you could tell and Jesus, even George was getting off on her! She had all the class a stripper, a pro, lacked these days. She had peeled off the panties and left her blouse for last and there was nothing, absolutely nothing beneath it. You could see a tiny patch of light red pubic hair behind the bottom hem of her shirt. She was pushing the buttons slowly through the buttonholes all the time watching them watching her, a little smile ticking at the corners of her mouth and then she parted the blouse and let it fall off her shoulders and stood there.
"Wow," said Donna. "You're really something!"
She was admiring both the body and the performance, that was clear. You had to. Shiela was spectacular, better even than he'd dreamed. He wanted her like a madman. Happily he still had his pants on. Timing was everything. You didn't want to give yourself away too soon and his dick was trying to tear its way through the zipper. On the next round she got lucky and was able to put the shirt back on. But that wouldn't last. By the time they reached the "Climax Zone" this was gonna get heavy.
"Oh my god," said Donna. "Will you look at this?"
She showed the card to George.
"Seven points down the tubes if you don't comply, dear," he said smiling.
"And you're behind already," said Shiela.
"I know, I know. But you might want to know what this says before you try to push me into this. It says Choose a player of the same sex. Take his or her nipple between your teeth and make it hard. Then that player will return the favor. You ready for that?"
"I don't know," said Shiela.
Good old card, thought Stroup. Good old sweet fucking card. This is gonna knock me right out of the ballpark, he thought. Now if Donna's only the woman I think she is we are going to see something. They were all in the final zone now and both men were naked. Somehow both Donna and Shiela had retained their shirts though Shiela's had come and gone half a dozen times over the course of the play. Against all odds Donna had been given little to do thus far. She kept getting all the easy instructions and while she'd kept close to them in points they'd yet to see her starkers. No big deal there, thought Stroup, same tired stuff I've seen for years. But it struck him as kind of unfair anyway.
Things had not worked out all that well for Stroup, truth be told. Oh, he'd gotten to do a little fondling here and there but George kept turning up the really good cards and what the hell use were they to him?
Stroup had had to French him twice.
But this could be the beginning of the payoff.
"All right," Donna said.
Both women stood up and Donna walked over to Shiela and unbuttoned her shirt. Then she stooped and took one of Shiela's big soft nipples in her mouth. Shiela closed her eyes and inclined her head back slightly and Stroup went hard as a rock. When Donna took her mouth away the nipple was erect. She peeled off her own shirt and presented her own small breasts to Shiela. Watching the two women, both nude now, Stroup was beginning to feel delirious. Cards flashed through his mind with astonishing rapidity, each striking him with an almost palpable force, the force of every fervid hope with which he'd stacked the deck.
Tongue the inner thigh of, went the cards, suck the cock or clit of, make love to the player to the right of and to complete each instruction there was the hairy body of Stroup, febrile, giddy and furtive no longer, to which Shiela must ultimately be directed like water to the well. Stroup's hands trembled as he reached for the next card. Under control, though. Everything under control. No problem.
Easy points, said the card. Kiss your partner.
Fucking piece of shit!
He gave Donna a kiss and ran his hand over her tits for good measure.
"Hey," she laughed, "that's not in the directions."
"Taking liberties, Stroup," said George.
"Eat me," he said.
Another round went by and Stroup had to nuzzle around in George's pubic hair, his big gay cock standing up like a clotheshorse. Donna got points for biting Stroup's inner thigh. Big fucking deal. Shiela, out in front now, was close to winning the game, thus ending it. And Stroup was livid at the thought. But she only got three points this time for squeezing George's flabby ass. The promiscuous bastard loved it, he actually started to rise for her. And Stroup was left to reflect glumly that everybody seemed to be having a fine old time at his game but him.
His luck would have to change. It just had to. This time he picked a seven-pointer. Ah, yes.
This was it. This was the one.
Close your eyes and lie down, he read. The player of your choice will use his or her tongue on you however you wish, for however long you wish and however lasciviously.
"Shiela?" He showed her the card.
The floor felt cold against his ass. He didn't mind. He closed his eyes and heard Shiela kneel down beside him, felt her hair trailing over his chest.
"Neck," he said.
She moved her tongue along the lines of his shoulder blades and into the hollow of his neck. Terrific!
"Nip
ple," he said. He felt her lips against his left breast, her tongue making tiny circles over the tip of the nipple. She even gave it a bite for him. What a piece of work!
"Navel."
Oh god, it was good, this woman was so good! Here was a woman who'd been around some, not like Donna. Donna was okay in her way but Shiela knew what she was doing all the way down the line. She had passion, nerve, real fire. He'd been wrong to worry about inviting her to play. The game was probably kid stuff to her. Instinctively he knew she'd been everywhere, done everything. Made him feel almost like a novice himself, to be honest.
"Cock," he said.
"No," she said.
He opened his eyes.
"You'll lose points," he said.
He felt doused with tar. Suddenly it was all sawdust and mendacity for him.
"I don't care."
"But you're this close to winning!"
"So?"
"Aw, shit," he said.
"I think she should get half points," Donna said. "She went halfway."
"No points! No fucking points. All or nothing." And then to soften it somewhat he said, "You know the rules."
Instantly he regretted being so brusque with them. It was stupid to show that kind of attitude. Hell, there could be another round, maybe another one after that. You never knew.
"Sorry," he said.
Gave them that old embarrassed little-boy smile. Pretty much worked every time.
"You really had me going, that's all. I guess I got carried away. Everybody still friends here?"
"Sure," said Shiela. "Still friends."
"Oh my," said Donna. She'd drawn a new card from the deck. "Look what I got."
He was really pretty sick of that. Sick of all those look what I gots out of Donna. Donna could get the clap for all he gave a shit. But to keep the damn thing rolling he tried to look interested.
"What's that?" he said.
"I think this is a genuinely dangerous card."
She showed it to Shiela.
"Uh-oh. I think you're right. Positively dangerous."