“What I found out,” Karen says, “is that you love me.”
She puts a finger to my lips to prevent me from replying. Then she kisses me on each eye. I slip into sleep, content.
Chinchilla Lace
Cervo
Chinchilla High
Marblehead rolled down the covers to her knees and let the weight of his right hand enjoy the ride back up her thigh to her patch of black wiry fur at the top. He paused and rotated his wrist for a while as he kissed her. She moaned in such a way that he thought the time was right for the next move.
Sliding down the mattress, he lifted his huge frame so that his cock and balls dangled just beyond her reach. His pecs glistened smoothly over her. She could not quite reach them either. Then he smiled and gently lowered his mouth with its large white teeth to her pussy. He moved his tongue in a slow pattern until he settled on a spot that made her shove herself hard into his mouth. That was fine with him.
The sun from the window warmed his large, hard ass as he continued to slurp at an even pace. The sky was slate on the horizon. Snow coming. She screamed a little, beat on the mattress a lot and yelled for help after a while. She got it. After a long while, he let her come, and she collapsed with her legs wide apart in the middle of the sweaty sheets.
“You are so bad,” she said. He wrapped her in his arms. In ten minutes, she was asleep.
Marblehead got up and stroked his dick as he looked down at the wet hair around her pussy. The skin was a nice shade of brownish purple beneath the black cloud of hair.
“Mmmhmm,” he said to himself as a man will after a job well done. He headed for the kitchen catching a glimpse of the other rehabbed brownstones on the block. His house in Upper Manhattan had tripled in value in the last three years. He made a large pot of coffee, which was not easy to do with an erection that threatened to get caught in the utensil drawer. The kitchen counters were done in veined black marble.
He poured himself a cup and then leaned his ass against the counter. With his free hand, he slowly massaged his dick even harder. He liked waiting to come. Patience made the whole thing a bigger deal. Then too he enjoyed watching the ripple of his arm as the muscles danced beneath his tight skin when he jerked off.
He really wanted to fuck her in the ass to see how she liked it, but he was so thick that he wondered if she would split. He had not actually raised the subject yet, but he had placed the head of his cock against her asshole a couple of times. Clearly she was torn about the idea as much by the thought that she might be torn in half herself. He did not believe in pressure when it came to fucking.
His hard-on was approaching a volatile state and felt like hot granite when there was a bang at the door. It was one hard bang. It had to be Toodles. Nobody else would take the risk of banging on his door. Not many people knew he lived here. His mailing address was a numbered box in Carnarsie.
He put on a silk robe and took off the police lock.
When Toodles came in, he said, “You been bangin’ all night? Smells like the fuck farm in here.”
“Yeah, well, that could be,” muttered Marbles, the name Toodles called him.
“Look to me like you ain’t done yet.” He was inspecting the tent in the front of Marblehead’s robe.
“Gimme a minute.” At which point he went into the bedroom and closed the door. He gently rolled her onto her tummy and then lifted her up so that she was on her knees near the end of the bed. Making sure she was still damp, he eased the thick head of his cock into her pussy from the rear and began to pump. She seemed to be asleep still, but he knew she was playing possum. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, turned her head to one side and pretended to snore. In so doing, she pushed back hard against him with her pussy as open as possible.
A man of skill and control, Marbles fucked her with majestic certainty for another ten minutes. His balls slapped her thighs in a way that made them a little tender but it was not unpleasant. She clearly thought they felt great as she enjoyed the heavy whapping sound of his balls on her skin. His cock felt like a tree limb moving inside her and she was fond of trees. At last she gave a hard wiggle and the scent of her pussy filled his nose. He exploded inside her, pulling her asscrack hard against his hips in a grip that she could not have broken with pliers.
“Hoooo . . . not a bad fuck,” he said under his breath. He tended to understatement. She was babbling now and starting to cry. Then he bent over her and kissed her shoulders following the ridge of her spine to her hips with more kisses. By then she was nearly asleep again.
When he came back to the livingroom, Toodles said, “Take a shower, man. You been rolling in pussy. I can’t drive the Caddy with no big-ass hard-on, you hear?”
“You can’t do nothing with no hard-on, Toodles.” Toodles had been chipping white bitch about six days a week since he was fourteen. He was so big across the chest by then that nobody bothered to tell him to stop. He had just turned forty before Christmas.
By the time he was tossed out of pro football at 20, he was also doing steroids and uppers. He balanced the mood swings with a little tab now and then. This pharmacological mix did not do much for his sex life, but he sure made an impression wherever he went. That was enhanced by his black leather porkpie hat, that he wore on the front of his enormous skull, and the wide black cashmere overcoat he sported in winter with a pocket for a shotgun inside. His orangey brown pigskin gloves were a little out of place with the cashmere coat, but nobody noticed his gloves. Few people forgot his large dead eyes.
“We gotta see a guy,” said Toodles in a dreamy voice.
“About a horse?” asked Marbles.
“Horse? No fuckin’ horse this time. Chinchillas.”
Marblehead was used to this sort of lateral focus from Toodles and did not press it.
“Forget about it, let’s go. Chinchillas, hunh?”
“Yeah, chinchillas. Dead chinchillas. Big fucking fuss, if you ask me, over some dead rats.” By the time they got to the Caddy, it had started to sleet. Last week’s snow was still on the ground with a layer of ice underneath that. After they crossed into Brooklyn, even the heavy Caddy waddled a little in the slop.
Toodles plowed the Caddy through a ridge of slush and pulled up to the curb at the corner. A hard wind pushed at the windows. The heater felt good.
The streets were empty. Here in Red Hook they were among the last in the city that were paved with granite cobble stones. They were slippery and good for breaking your ankle if you had to move fast. Marbles hated them. Two blocks down they could see a ratty bodega that might be open. Otherwise the inhabitants had left the neighborhood for work, left for good or were left for dead. Here and there buildings that had survived demolition stuck up in isolation like old, broken teeth. Sleet slapped the windows after the engine shut down.
They got out of the car, went around the corner and headed three blocks north. They both knew appearances were deceptive. No building here sold for less than a million bucks, even though there were no windows in lots of the window frames. Everyone wanted to get in on the boom to come. Some buildings were being rehabbed by the new owners who occupied one of the floors.
“This is one ugly shithole,” said Marblehead. He stuck to no-load tax-free bond funds. Real estate was too much work and he needed tax relief in his bracket.
His eyes swept to the top floor of the brick building across the street.
“Marbles, you ugly. You ugly as this place,” said Toodles. Toodles had bought two houses in the area in the last six months. He was having them gutted by his cousin from the south who owed him for his down payment on a house in Sea Bright, New Jersey. His cousin was good with a hammer. Toodles had never used a hammer, but he knew how to pound things without one.
“Yeah, Toodles, I’m ugly. I am. I admit it, but I ain’t fuckin’ crazy like you.”
Toodles’ vision went out of phase like an old black and white TV with the horizontal on the fritz. The left side of his head throbbed. The right side buzzed. His f
ingernails dug into his palms even through the cashmere lining of his hand-made pigskin gloves. He waited a moment for things to clear in his head. He did not like to be called crazy.
“The guy in there?” he said, changing the subject.
“The guy’s in there all right. He walkin’ around. See behind the shade there?”
“Maybe he’s an asshole. A nervous asshole.”
“Could be. Could be.”
They crossed the sidewalk shoulder to shoulder. Together they were half again as wide as the door. Toodles was tall and wide in the shoulders. Marblehead was taller with long arms. His neck seemed to start at the top of his head and flare out to his shoulders from there. He was slow on his feet, which had ended his career in the ring. The ring had also left him with a jaw that creaked when he chewed. It sounded like a rusty rendering machine chewing a bone. He had a warm smile, but not many people got to see it.
Toodles was scary. Women never knew whether to be turned on by him, scared to death of him, or both. He did not think much about sex. The front door to the building was not locked. The lobby was stuffy and warm. Marblehead held the door for Toodles. They walked quietly up to the third floor landing and paused to listen for a breech closing or a cylinder snapping into place.
“Why’s this guy in Red Hook? He an asshole?” asked Marbles.
“You gotta gun?”
“Gun? Why I need a gun for an asshole? He an asshole, right? So why’s he living here?” Marbles did not like guns. Too many ways to fuck up with a gun. Toodles didn’t mind either way. He got where he was going gun or no gun.
“No . . . well, yeah, I guess,” said Toodles scratching has forehead. The steroids aggravated his skin. “He an asshole, all right. I mean, where the fuck else should he be? He’s a Yuppy. Got alligators knitted on his G-string and what have you like that. They all wanna live in Red Hook. It’s cool now.”
“Smells like cat piss to me.”
“No, that’s herbals, Man. Herbal shit.”
“Herbal shit?”
“Aromatherapy or some shit. Makes ’em feel better.”
“Sheeeit, man, gonna take a lotta herb make you feel better in this fuckin’ place.”
They got to the top floor. Marbles leaned on the front door of one of the apartments. He let his weight settle on it. The metal skin on the door sagged and buckled. The door popped open. The guy was standing in the living room with a T-shirt that didn’t cover his naked dick. The room was large and nicely decorated with a large bank of windows leading to a wide narrow balcony. Doors led to other rooms off the living room.
It was an odd building, having three bedroom apartments and marble stairways. Nearly abandoned in the 70s, it was now a coop. Only the top two floors were occupied as yet.
“Where’s the fuckin’ chinchilla?” asked Toodles as he marched over the fallen door. He kept his eye glued to the guy’s eyeball in case he twitched looking for a sidearm.
The guy was the whitest guy that Marblehead had ever seen. He looked like a dishrag on two icicles. He could see the guy’s eyes flick to the right toward a doorway. Marbles started toward it to check.
“You got the five hundred?” asked Toodles.
Marblehead went to the doorway and looked inside. The room had an enormous walnut sleigh bed, satin sheets and a sea of embroidered pillows. All this shit would go for three, three and a half grand from Manhattan. There was indeed a guest face down on the bed. A small pile of cushions supported the hips of a girl who was now out cold with a martini glass in her hand.
She wore the floor length chinchilla which was now pushed up to her waist. Her creamy ass and pink pussy were in full view between her legs. Her feet were in her open-toed sandals with three-inch heels. They were covered with pale gold sequins. The shoes went with the coat and her pale strawberry blonde cloud of hair between her legs.
The guy looked astounded, like they had interrupted his strip croquet game. It was around his eyes.
“Not yet,” said the guy, with a hopeful wheedle underneath it.
“Too late,” said Toodles.
“That coat’s worth 80 thousand . . . Take it.”
“That coat worth shit to me. I don’t move shit like that. Frodo give you the coat for 8 thousand. You paid Frodo 7,500. The coat worth 80 grand. He needed cash. You got a deal, man. Ten cents on the dollar. You got a deal. Now you stiffing him on the small five. That’s fuckin’ dumb, you know? He wants his five hundred.”
“I don’t—”
“– have it.” Marblehead finished the thought for him and paused.
“The nays have it, Asshole.” Then Toodles and Marblehead walked over to the guy. They ripped off his shirt which left him naked. Then they picked him up and shoved his head through the glass of one of the windows, which also broke out the old wooden frame. Then they paused to let him take in the moment. After that, they threw him through the window, assuming he would land in the street, but he managed to grab the iron balcony rail.
The metal was so cold it was peeling his skin off his bare hands and feet, but the guy did not care. He did not want to fall off the balcony. He was pulling himself back over the railing when Toodles picked up two retro Eames chairs. The guy was almost back over the rail when Toodles stepped through the shattered window frame and then smashed the two backs of the chairs together like a huge pair of cymbals. The guy’s head was between them.
“Toodleoo, Motherfucker,” said Toodles, using his trademark method of saying goodbye. The guy fell over backward like Wiley Coyote having a bad dream. Toodles chucked the chairs over the rail, where they landed on the guy in the empty street. It was starting to fill with snow. In an hour he would be buried in the gutter.
“Gotta move the Caddy before they plow. Don’t want to have to dig the fucker out,” said Marblehead, but Toodles knew they had to get the coat if they were not going to get the five hundred. The girl snored evenly, but it was not convincing.
“You could fuck her in the ass, and she wouldn’t say nothing,” said Marblehead. The girl tried not to flinch about her possible ass-fucking.
“No, man. No time.” He had to get to a dentist appointment back in Manhattan. With luck they would beat the traffic and he could meet his connection first.
“You might mess up the coat, fucking her, anyway.” Then Marblehead picked up the coat with the girl inside it folded them over his arm. He patted her on the ass to calm her.
“I gotta carry you. You got no shoes.”
They went back downstairs.
The walk back to the Caddy was miserable with sleet melting down their necks. He plumped the girl down on her bottom in the plush back seat.
Marblehead said, “You need to wizz?”
She shook her head no. Her bladder was screaming for relief but she didn’t want to bother these monsters.
“You pee in that coat, you dead, you hear?”
She started to cry. Toodles looked at her and grunted.
Marbles turned to him, “She gotta pee. I can tell. It’s a panic reaction. I’ll take her down to the bodega.”
As she had no shoes but the sandals, Marblehead picked her out of the back again and carried her along the street to the bodega. This time he carried her like a bride. When he walked in with the girl in his arms, he told the owner she needed the powder room.
The owner would not have allowed this invasion of his dingy toilet, but he realized that the top of his head did not come all the way up to Marblehead’s nipple, so he figured the girl could pee on the floor if she liked.
“Careful of the coat,” Marbles told her as he set her down on the toilet on her butt, as gently as a butterfly landing. He gathered the skirt of the fur around her and put it in her lap to keep her warm. Then he closed the door and went back into the store. He looked around. He grabbed a tiny bottle of mango nectar from the chill cabinet. He thought of the stuff as gourmet cusine à la Puerto Rico.
“You got any snowballs?”
“Snowballs?” asked the owner, who lo
oked baffled and turned his eyes to the slush in the street.
“No, man. Snowballs with coconuts. Pink, you know.”
The owner realized they were discussing snacks and not slush. That was better than talking to this lunatic about possible murders he was planning to execute in the next ten minutes. He tried smiling at Marblehead, who did not smile back.
Instead, Marblehead paid for the fruit juice and the snack cakes with a twenty. He told the owner to keep the change as the stuff was placed carefully into a paper sack with a little napkin. Then Marblehead asked for two coffees which the owner put in a separate bag.
The owner was starting to feel brotherly about Marblehead when the toilet flushed. There was no sink in the little bathroom so she couldn’t wash her hands.
The girl came out of the little room at the back of the store. She was blushing now because she figured everyone was thinking about why she had gone in there, and now she couldn’t wash her hands. But, she did feel a lot better. The owner gave her a little package of towelettes saying, “That’s on the house,” with a soft smile. She mopped her tiny hands and then he gave her a couple of paper napkins. She dried her fingers and then blew her nose loudly on the last one. She had been crying and was still sniffling.
Marblehead handed her the two bags and picked her up again since she still had no shoes. He cuddled her against his chest. She could feel a hard length of pipe in his breast pocket, but she felt safe. The coat fell open, revealing that she was naked except of course for the chinchilla. The store owner gently put the coat back over her. She smiled at him as Marblehead took her out the door and through the sleet back to the Caddy.
“Come back and see us,” said the owner, and then he threw up with relief on the floor.
Marbles surprised Toodles with the fresh hot coffee and gave the girl the juice and the snack. “You can have some of my coffee if you want something hot after,” but she was still trying to figure out why he had given her the snowballs. So was Toodles.
“We gonna have a fucking picnic? How about the Flatlands? I got a shovel in the back.” He let his eyes flick toward the girl.
The Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica 5 Page 26