Whore Wife Whores Some More
We were awakened by a tiny rasp on the door, to put it politely. Or we could say that noon being well past, hunger finally woke us up. You know... hunger.
I was as hard as a railroad spike and started moving on top of her, but she kissed me and slid away with a giggle. "Let's see who is at the door."
There she was, timid Kitty, the MILF that generations of kids fantasized about fruitlessly. Stark naked, hair matted by dried old spunk, rushing to open the door to her motel room. What a change one night can bring!
The door flung open, freezing the pudgy kid from last night in place.
"H... uh...hhi... I'm Todd. From last night."
"Why hello there, Todd!" my wife bubbled. "Nice to meet you at last! I've... ahem. I've heard so much about you." She was clearly having a lot of fun with this. "Won't you come in ?"
The kid nodded in a nearly apoplectic state, and slid past her inside.
"Hello Mr. Arnett" he stammered.
"Hi Todd. How goes ?" I inquired, as friendly as you'd like, neighbourly you could even say.
"Great!" he replied enthusiastically. "Just great! The... the reason I came was to check and make sure... the other guys... well they figured maybe you need something or... Is everything okay ?"
"Everything's fine." I reassured him. "In fact, I was just about to fuck my wife. Would you care to watch her bounce ?"
"I... uhh..." he stammered again. Kitty closed the door, and undulated past him, sitting herself square in my lap, taking my cock in readily and without ceremony. I bounced her up and down in my lap for a while, then laid her on her side, one leg straight up and started hammering into her like there was no tomorrow just as Todd moved on from trying to discreetely rub his diminutive endowment with one hand inside his pants and instead just pushed them down.
He slowly and hesitantly made his way over to the edge of the bed where Kitty's head rested, evidently thinking it might be his time to capitalize. He just knelt there holding his cock, unsure of what to do. He probably thought this was his open invitation, but it wasn't. Only half of me was even paying attention to him. I was still completely enthralled with what had taken place the previous night. After witnessing the most erotic thing I thought possible all I could think of was positioning my cock and sliding it back and forth inside her.
I saw Kitty look at him and smile sweetly, then she offered "How about you go fix us some drinks, Todd ?"
"Uh... yes Ma'am." He pulled his pants up with the urgency of a teenager caught jacking it by his mother, and scurried off towards the table.
"Wash your hands first", she called in his wake, and for some reason this completely threw me over the edge. I pumped her full of ten thousand gallons, it felt like, and she took it all, stored it somewhere and smiled at me just as sweetly. "Was that as great for you as it was for me, honey ?"
I'm sure it was better. As Todd returned with the drinks we settled down, and then we assured him, and through him his friends that everything's fine, no major disaster had transpired, people sometimes fuck and that's all there is to it. So early in the morning of the next day, that's really all there was to it. He told us that they all swore some kind of secrecy pact and then he left, somewhat shaken.
We sat in bed a long time nursing our drinks, and then getting another set, just chatting, giggling at silly things, talking about random nonsense. It was very liberating. Just about when the thought of going out to grab a bite to eat was bubbling up, there was another faint rasp on the door.
We looked at each other, then Kitty yelled "Come in, it's open."
After a moment during which we bouth thought we had just imagined the knock, the door opened, letting in a svelte teenager.
"Cynthia ?!"
She was the daughter of the new owners, or maybe just his daughter from another marriage. Something like that. We were vaguely acquainted for the past few years but never really spoke before. As we watched in beffudlement she ran across the room, kneeled at Kitty's Popular Kneeling Spot, grabbed both her hands and blurted out "Please take me with you. When you leave. Please. I want to come. I want to be like you. I've seen you last night, I want to be just like you. Please take me in." with all the pressing seriousness of a line insistently rehearsed.
"What are you talking about ?" tried Kitty
"I saw you last night. I heard the boys, and so I sneaked behind the corner and saw all you did. All naked like that! And then you went inside, so I peeped through the window here. You did all those boys in one song! Weren't you afraid of them ?"
"Why would anyone be afraid of boys ?!" wondered Kitty outloud. It's not nearly as bad a question as it seems.
"I am!" The girl was overexciting, almost screaming. We tried to calm her down.
"Please. Take me with you. I wanna come with you when you leave."
"But ... don't you have to be in school ?"
"It's all bullshit anyway. All I want is right here. All I want is to be like you."
Kitty was evidently flattered. She had heard this many times from many girls over her teaching career, but apparently never with the conviction, never with the intensity.
"How old are you Cynthia ?"
"I'm seventeen!"
"More like sixteen, isn't it ?"
"Almost seventeen! Please take me. I'll do anything."
"Anything ?!" I wondered out loud. Kitty shot me a quizzical look. "Well... you always wanted a maid..." I offered vaguely.
"Yes. I'll be your maid. I'd love to! I'll do your laundry and clean and everything. Please. Please take me."
"She doesn't even have any tits!"
"Not like yours ma'am, of course. But I have them, look!" Within an instant she was completely naked, her adolescentine body on full display. She did have pretty, perky breasts, not very big but she carried them well. Her skin was very clear, and the gap below her lips cute enough to eat.
"You shaved ?"
"I saw you shaved yourself, ma'am."
"Looks good on you. Come here." Kitty motioned. The soubrette went over and sat herself in between Kitty's legs. They cut a beautiful picture together like that, Cynthia's gazelle thighs stretched apart, her knees hooked over Kitty's.
"Clasp your hands behind my neck" Kitty whispered towards her, then turning to me "What do you think ?"
"She's pretty."
"But a little young still."
"Yeah. A little young."
"Let's see if the engine works, at least", she said, and moved her left hand over Cynthia's cleft. She rubbed her thumb over the girl's clit, softly and slowly at first, then faster and harder. I was watching them, mesmerized. It didn't take a minute, Cynthia bucked wildly and her eyes rolled inside her head.
"Was it good ?"
"Oh yes. Oh. Yes it was."
"Do you do it to yourself ?"
"S... sometimes."
"Are you going to make her a slut then ?" Kitty asked me. "He's the best, I used to be a teacher with a monogamous marriage, now look at me." she said aside, to Cynthia.
I rushed over. Moments later, red with the slaughter of innocence, my cock was depositing the first load our new maid ever received. She sighed deeply. I kissed Kitty, deeply. The girl squeezed me, tightly. Kitty looked into her eyes, intensely. It was an incredible moment.
"Am I going to be pregnant ?"
"Ah... honey... no, I don't think so. You see, we've been trying to have a baby for a long time, but..."
"I'm also taking pills."
"What pills ?"
"You know. Birth control."
"Well then no, you're definitely not getting pregnant."
"Ah."
"Why the hell would a virgin take birth control ?"
"Oh, all my classmates are taking them. Mrs. Bosworth says it's a women's rights issue."
"A women's rights issue, is it now."
"She's a bit of a cuckoolander. Mrs. Bosworth I mean." Cynthia started to laugh, but then turned serious and bit her lip. "You are taking me, aren't you."
"Well Cynthia... that may be more complicated. We'll have to talk to your parents."
"My parents don't care."
"I guess we'll soon find out if they do, won't we."
"If you take me can I be Cyn ?"
"If we take you, you can be anything you wish."
Cyn's parents evidently couldn't care less - once we explained we needed someone to help look around the house now that my wife is pregnant, and that Cynthia would have room and board as well as wages, and we'd enlist her at the local highschool they were positively happy to be relieved of her. It did make us wonder what we're setting ourselves up for, but about all of that later. For now, suffice it to say Cyn lazed around with us for a short while and then snuck out ; while we finally went out for the dinner that had originally started life as a late breakfast.
We sat in silence waiting for our meal. I wasn't going to bring anything up for all the jewels of India plus two casks of premium imported beer. She seemed pensive and a little restless.
"If I even suspect that they told their friends and I somehow get targeted as the easy motel slut, we're out of here." she finally offered.
"Yeah, not like we're married to this place."
"We're married to each other." she said, neutrally. I didn't know where this was headed. Maybe she's just about to lose it and next week will see me trying to explain the past few days to a divorce attorney. A woman, with all my luck. Then we'd start a steamy, lust driven affair, she'd have me kill her husband, then she'd greedily try and change his will, they'd catch us, I'd go to jail... I'd better say something, and quickly.
"Yeah we are. I'm not about to change that. Are you ?"
"Naw", she said softly.
"But you are a slut now." I said, emphasizing the verb.
"Yea." she said even softer. "I'm a slut now."
"I guess we'll just have to make the best of it.", I offered just as the lobster plate was coming in.
After the first few bites, she looked straight into my eye. "Are you going to make me be pregnant ?"
"I dunno babe. I think I just might."
"That'd be..." but she just trailed off, never finishing her sentence.
"You always wanted one, remember ? Besides, what'll we use Cynthia for otherwise ?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'll find something", she said, mischief in her eye but not a shade of malice. "You clearly enjoyed ruining her."
"Oh, twas but a moment."
"That's how I know you enjoyed it."
"You know it's not so simple as all that."
"What the hell will we tell people ?"
"About what ? We didn't invent au pair you know."
"About the baby."
"We certainly didn't invent pregnancy. I'm sure people saw this happen before."
"But..."
"What. You told anyone about it before ?"
"Not really."
"So then. Maybe we didn't want a kid until today. Or maybe we got lucky. Or maybe it's nobody's god damned business."
"There are paternity tests, you know."
"Oh yeah ? And who's going to ask for one ?"
She looked off in the distance, and we ate through the rest of the meal in pensive silence. Just as we were about to ask for the check, the first man to fuck my wife other than me walked in, with a couple of older people. He said something to them and came over.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Arnett."
"Hello..."
"Charles. Please call me Chuck."
"Will you sit down with us, Chuck ?" coaxed Kitty.
"I'd love to but I'm with family. Just wanted to come over and say hi." then after a pause "I'm so sorry if things got carried away last night. I spoke to Stan and we'd like to keep this on the down low if possible. We've had time to think about it and it almost seemed like we were forcing ourselves on the situation."
"That's what boys are for." I retorted, amiably. "Don't worry about it, Chuck."
"Don't worry about how things happened or what happened. It just happened. It's all ok, and not really anyone's business." Kitty sounded well pleased and genuinely relieved. "Nice touch coming over, by the way. Very respectable." she added, coyly.
Chuck nodded, said goodbye and left. Kitty watched him go.
"At this rate we'll end up learning all their names even", I started playfully. She said nothing, still looking after the young man. "You enjoyed his dick, didn't you slut ?"
"Mhm."
"I'm sure you'll get more of that."
"You think ?"
We bantered more about it, covering all the possibilities, looking at all the angles, mostly for the rememorative pleasure than anything. We ended up betting as to whether Chuck will ever do Kitty again, which I guess with her was hedging but for me it was pure edging.
As we got back to the motel, the clerk passed us a message. Inside the envelope was an invitation to a bar nearby, for 11 that night. Signed : Jeremy, Todd, Chuck, Alex and some sort of hyeroglyphic name we couldn't make out. "Check it out", I said, "we've almost got all of their names now!"
We were obviously going, and after being in the room for a half hour or so, watching Kitty prance around in a wrapped up towel after her quick shower, polishing her toenails on her simply gorgeous tanned cute feet, standing naked putting on her panties, then a stunning black cocktail dress and unbelievably sexy slip-on five-inch heels, I became aroused more than you could imagine. It's one thing to watch your hot wife preen for some sort of social function, where you know other men will oogle her and envy you. It's quite another to watch her prepare to excite the very men she fucked the night before, under your very eyes. Maybe she'll do it again. Will she ? Won't she ?
Once during this time, she leaned over and picked up a bottle of polish she had dropped on her way back to the bathroom, and the beautiful crotch of her baby blue panties was exposed vividly, tightly pressed against her pussy. It was breathtaking, and I leaned in and gave her a kiss. She turned around and winked at me. We were happier than we'd ever been.
Funny thing though, she wasn't even close to ready by 10:30. Knowing this could be a while, I began making us drinks. I purposefully poured hers extremely strong, which she noticed, but did not protest. Just then someone knocked on the door.
The redhead, who we thereby found out to be Jeremy, and the other kid, who apparently learned to write from either chickens or doctors seemed out of breath, as if they had run to the room. Kitty was in the bathroom when they arrived, but they hollered their reciprocal hellos.
Seeing my drink both immediately asked whether they could have one. Apparently they were out back at their place. I told them to pour whatever they wanted. They were both well past feeling any pain already, but nevertheless poured themselves some pretty neat screwdrivers and gulped them down. Then Jeremy mixed a new set, and when done walked to the bathroom and just reached his arm in through the doorway, saying, "Here. Polishing your toenails can be a stressful thing, I've been told. You might need a drink."
They both giggled when she said "What a gentleman. Now go away!". Her tone was playful, not exactly an invitation, but certainly not hostile to any degree. Jeremy evaluated it correctly and peeled himself off the door. I'm guessing once the first wave of sexual relief faded, most of these kids' excitement at the situation actually came from the wide open opportunity to play the adult game of signals for real, "for keeps" as they say. Rescued from the mind-death of his own sexual frustration by Kitty's easy, pantocratic sluttery, the future bright legal mind didn't in the slightest mind that he wasn't invited inside, just like he didn't in the slightest mind that she had foreseen and defeated his mean little plan the night before - something he went as far as to confess to her later. Instead, unconcerned about getting any, getting some, getting as much as he could possibly carry and then some, he was absolutely thrilled that he could figure out what she wanted, and what she meant. Kitty had always been a great teacher, but with this trip I was discovering she might actually be the very best in her generation. It's not a small thing, this, you know, to be married to the absolute best of a kind.
A couple of times Kitty came out and grabbed this or that, making playful faces at us as if to say, "Kiss my butt, you'll wait for as long as I need." And let me tell you, when she pranced out with her beautiful dress three-fourths up her beautifully tanned thighs, with it perfectly hugging her ass, nobody there minded giving her as long as she needed. That's what drinks are for, after all.
She was stunning. There was no shred of doubt in my mind that the two kids were just as turned on by her presence as I was ; and by the memory of having fucked her the night before, also just as I was. The thought of their young cocks in her, on her, drenching her in the past as in the future excited me immensely, and at that precise moment I realised that mine excited them just as immensely - its presence in their mind's eye, taking out of my wife what she owed me, and it, before their very eyes ; as well as its imagined outlines doing the same for years before, making her my wife in the first place.
In my inebriated state I reached a sudden realisation of unity, a benevolent, equanimous unity with all things, with some kids I had never met before and the trees outside I had met every single year around this time for most of my life - at any rate most of my life worth the mention. I sat there, dazed, cherishing this new thing in me, like a tiny diamond, another fabulous gift from Kitty's all-devouring cunt. Truly a creature of boundless blessings, this whore.
I realised then just how much I loved her, not even as a thing, but more like an obliterating thankfullness for her existence ; and with a sudden ache I realised just how much I wanted to see her get fucked.
She, entirely unconcerned with any of this, was now talking on the phone to her mother. They were chit-chatting happily, gabbing away at whatever mundane nonsense that happened at their mouths, with nary a clue and nary a care - or at least so it seemed. At one point she said, "I'm out, bring me another." and then carried on with something about mail catalogues.
The two guys almost fought to see which one could take her another drink first. Without brutality, but with certain intensity, a drunken bout of olympic torchbearing. One spilled half the drink he was carrying just taking it to the bathroom, while the other spilled half his reaching it in the door. Kitty finally hung up and came out. She was as bubbly as can be, looked at the spillage then said "The shower's that way, you two. And drinks are for drinking, not for washing in."
The first sentence stopped them both dead in their tracks. Were they supposed to go take a shower ? By the second they got it, their concentrated expressions, crumpled to that degree only kids "playing" (which is to say trying to do well more earnestly and more seriously than the adults ever will) ever achieve relaxed and melted away into giggles and some long story about how a bird tried to take a bath in a long drink once.
They both started making her a drink again, redundantly. She smiled at me with a wrinkled nose as if to say "here, these are my two lovers, my two children, my two slaves - what do you think ?" I thought we had a lot to talk about, which is how old couples go - the older it gets the more there's to talk about ; unless you don't fuck around, of course.
Jeremy said, "We should actually wait until about midnight, the party doesn't even start until then." and it was immediately obvious to Kitty, to me, and I believe to the other kid that all he meant was "I'd love to fuck her before we go". The next second it was then obvious to him just how obvious he was to us, and he blushed a deep, feminine red. It looked very pretty on him, the hint of childish sexual ambiguity flattered his budding manliness rather than deterring from it. He stammered and hawed, overwhelmed.
Kitty looked at him from under her eyelashes, a look which fixed him in place, suddenly pale. She swayed her hips in a sultry feline walk to him, and with every step his sudden palor intensified, as if all his blood was busy elsewhere, face be damned. She stopped one inch away from his face, put her hands on his hips and asked, in the most neutral of tones, "What did you just say ?"
Jeremy completely lost it. He was rapidly approaching crying. He'd have curled into a ball except for her body blocking his way, somehow in his mind evidently as rigid as alloyed steel, impassable, collosal, protected by a scientifico-magical barrier from the perpetual future of the paperbacks. He gulped, he stammered, he turned all colors. Kitty patiently gave him all the time he needed, gazing into his eyes for long long seconds without spite, without rancor, without lust, without encouragement, without intention even. To think that everything started because they thought themselves capable of playing games with her. They! With her! The humanity.
Eventually he managed to approximately repeat a version of his previous line that was judged close enough, so Kitty disengaged with a cute "That's what I thought." giggled over her shoulder. Jeremy bent over halfway in one exhale, his butt propped against the wall. "I need a drink" he said hoarsely, and Kitty smiled at him from over by the table. She was fixing one. We all burst out laughing, the men I mean, as the tension dissolved the whole thing looked more and more hysterical.
Around midnight, after a bunch of drinks and a bunch more joyous banter we started to leave. As Kitty passed by me for the door, I grabbed her and slowly spun her towards me holding her ass, and kissed her. She returned the kiss for a few seconds but then broke it off saying, "Ok, let's go already." I pulled her to me again and kissed her again while Jeremy walked past us and got the door. She began backing towards the door with a giggling pulling motion, murmuring as we kissed, "Let's go already..."
To nobody's surprise Jeremy leaned his back against the open door, reached over and pulled up the back of her dress. I already had it halfway up her ass, but he pulled it up all the way, over her hips and then slid his hand under the strap of her thong. I watched him do it out of the corner of my eye, and moved my hands to her hips. We stood there for a few seconds as he squeezed her ass cheeks, when she said laughingly "Are we fucking leaving yet?"
We finally left the room, but I continued pulling at her and kissing her as we walked. She grinned as if to tell me, "Not going to happen." As we did, Jeremy would playfully pull up the back of her dress, feeling her up. Just before getting to the foyer leading to the parking lot, I pulled her into a nook that housed an ice machine and some other vending things. Jeremy was right there, hand on her butt. As we were groping her, she said "Not now. Later, okay ?"
I made no answer, but grabbed the sides of her panties and slid them down to her knees. At the same time Jeremy lifted her dress up around her hips again. She didn't try to stop us, she just put her arms straight on my shoulders, clasped her hands together far behind my neck and whispered "Are you a bad boy ?" in my ear. I nodded, and she whispered again "If you're a bad boy I'm only going to let him fuck me, not you." I don't know if Jeremy made out what she said to me, but whether he did or he didn't he dropped his pants just as I was undoing the clasp around her neck, liberating her lovely bosom. I bent and mouthed her right areola, my hands on her very arched hips when I felt her wince slightly and I knew he had just penetrated her. The slow, loving swaying immediately following confirmed it for me.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the other man inside her. The fact that it was actually happening all over again filled me with a strange mixture. Excitement was certainly in there, disbelief as well. What a slut I had married! And how I loved her!
Jeremy finished quickly, and as he pulled out and stopped moving her I spun her around, and bent her at the waist. "Now clean him up with your mouth, like a real whore." I gruffed. She did, and as she was doing it I kneeled behind her, and kissed her swollen clit. It was pretty irritated, and it gave her a start. Her cunt was slick, heavy with a thick dew, like she had just been fucked. She had. I kissed and licked her best part with its filling for a while, and when I was done and she finally could stand up she stepped out of her well trashed panties and handed them to the other kid. "Here" she said, "A memento". He smiled broadly and we took off.
Everyone was at the bar, around a booth slightly to the side. They greeted us loudly and excitedly, then wanted to know what took so long, did we not want to come originally ? Did Jeremy have to use his silver tongue to convince us ? "Oh no, not his tongue" replied Kitty, and as she did the other kid slowly lifted his hand holding her panties from under the table. There was some hooting and some hollering, and then Jeremy took the stage to recount, with embelishments and in detail, how he had to fuck her into coming. Dragons were at some point involved, I winked at the other kid who smiled a smile wide enough to make a frog, evidently content with his possession of that secret, among so many others. So many sparkling, brilliant others, all caught and clasped together in the pair of panties, their physical embodiment, held closely in his hand.
Throughout the retelling they'd occasionally high-five each other, and chirped with delight throughout. Now and again they'd solicit confirmation from Kitty, and she always proferred it, with emphasis and corroborating, exagerating detail. Oh yes there were dragons, but not just three, five, and not just spitting fire but also lasers. And shitting tanks and icecream tubs. Haagen-Dazs and some other European brand. The tanks, that is. The tubs were luft & wafer.
It was easily the most outrageous story ever concocted, and this coming from the point of view of someone who ganbangs his wife over drinks. It was inconceivable, and duly avowed by both of them, with no protest from me - thus therefore the truth. Much more a truth, according to the rules of boyhood, than truer stories bereft, for reasons incomprehensible, of the plain affidavit of the girl involved. It was truer than the man on the Moon, for those involved were there present to testify ; and truer than some other kid's dalliance with a classmate they all knew - because she wouldn't confess to it, and certainly not in detail to rival Kitty's. It was the best truth, and beloved for it, and the best time anyone had in a bar. Ever.
Then, as closing time came around, the overarching point in their minds came to the fore. They were leaving the next day, and because they were leaving the next day they'd be happy to drop me off at our place, but they would like to keep Kitty at theirs, to "help them prepare".
I was awestruck. Your wife fucked by another, by other men in your own house, in your own bed, under your own eyes is one thing. Fucking her smooth, slippery cunt right after another man filled her with his seed is one thing. Kneeling and kissing her swollen, scalding slit a moment after another man was done fucking her is one thing. These and others like them are lots of things, but actually sending her off to their place, to be there, by herself... well... that's another thing.
It's another thing. A mindblowing other thing. Just as I was pondering how I wouldn't get to see her tightly wrapped around another cock, soaking it, milking it, bucking in orgasm brought about by it after swaying in the rhythm imposed by it, just as I was spinning on how I wouldn't get to see it happen, hear it happen, how I won't be able to taste it, but instead would have to imagine it all, and imagine it ten thousand times because unlike a thing that happens, a thing imagined has no concieved end, I heard Kitty's melodious voice. "Have you been a bad boy ?"
She was looking at me with her big, smiling eyes. The man with the plan. The Jeremy of the household. Had I been a bad boy ? "Yes, I have". I hung my head in shame.
They were all arrested, breathless. Could it be ? Were they actually going to get the whore to play with as they please, for however many hours left until they leave ? Uninhibited by an actual adult, just among themselves kids, have Kitty for a plaything in private ?
It could be ; and it was going to be. "Ok, listen up." I said sternly. "You want the whore, that's fine, but you'll have to pay for using her."
Their eagerness, their youthful hopefulness suddenly turned dejected. Pay ? They're kids, what pay, they don't have money. Money was invented exactly for this reason, it suddenly dawned on them : so that even though the Kitty's right there, and even though she's ready to go and hubby's been a bad boy, and even though they're ready to go and she's ready to go with them, nevertheless...
"A dollar a shot. And no cheating."
They took a moment to process and then exploded in enthusiastic accountancy. They had a few bucks still.
"But I'm serious about the cheating part." I said, just as sternly. "A dollar a shot, it means what it says, no exceptions. Doesn't matter where you take it. If you take it all by yourself in the bathroom while she's there, you owe a dollar. When you're out you bring her back. Alright ?"
"Yes, sir!" they bellowed in choral unison.
I winked at Kitty, who looked at me with a very definite "Oh yeah, you wanna set me up so they'll fuck me raw ? We'll see about this, mister!" as she realised what the fee structure meant and stood up.
"Are we dropping you off ?"
"Naw, thanks kids. You take your time with her ; I'll be okay."
I walked out, turned around thinking about what was transpiring and started walking at a brisk pace. The air and the walk dispelled most of the spirits from my mind, but the thoughts of what was about to happen could not be dispelled. Not by air, not by walking, not by straight bleach to the skull. Kitty is a whore. I am whoring her out. Literally. A buck a shot, the cheapest it's ever been. Kitty is a cheap whore being gangbanged right now in a motel room somewhere. She'll come back in the morning, filled up in every nook and cranny by layers upon layers of manjuice. She'll take a shower. She'll have a sandwich maybe. She'll go to sleep. She'll wake up in the morning... what then ?
Do it all over again ?
I was going slightly crazy, and suddenly there it was : a dingy old strip club. The perfection of it struck me light white lightning. What could there be better than throwing away the bucks she'll make before she even made them ? Kitty will have to work for these dollars, she'll sweat and tear her ass for them. What better use than to give them away to some girls that didn't even bother stripping all the way ? Just for swaying their skinny butts up on a stage somewhere a coupla of times ?
I went right in, and an hour later went right out, sixty-six dollars lighter in the pocket. I figured it should be about enough. The girls were okay, six of them in all, a couple younger ones trying really hard to do a good job of it, a really dumb one that hadn't the sense to get out of the rain, and the rest old enough to have been defeated and have given up. Twenty-six or something. Throughout the whole time the only thing in my mind was guesswork at how much money Kitty was going to make that night, had made so far, how she'd be making it. While watching the girls trying to follow the music on stage all I could think about was Kitty. I pictured in my mind insistently, repeatedly, the making of every single lousy dollar in the bundle she'd be bringing home, crumpled, sweated. And I'll tell her "That's nice, honey, just about covers the strippers tonight."
As I got back to our room, my mind was starting to shut down from sheer exhaustion. I turned the lights off and just sat on the bed. There was a rasp on the door.