Chapter 7
Jane's first question after Rick slid into her car was, "How is the easy life going?"
Rick looked at her a long time. She had made wonderful love with hind on the sailboat, but he had not called her since or made any effort to get in touch with her. She had become another Linda in his life. He thought he would like to make it up to her, in some way, and perhaps by making it up to Jane he could also ease his conscience somewhat about Linda, far away now but still nagging in the back of his mind. "It's going great," he lied. "I'm making a fortune and there's nothing to it."
As Jane drove along the narrow road, she laughed at him. "What were you doing out here at the junction this time of night? You know, life isn't as easy as you make believe it is."
He acted surprised. "You mean that?"
"Come on, Rick. Anybody can see right through you. You're having a miserable time. You're not fun anymore."
"I've gotten serious," he said, not knowing what else to say. "I've settled down to a career."
"If it's so great, how come you didn't rescue me from a life of setting tables and clearing dirty dishes? I had the impression that as soon as you got organized with the ladies you were. going to find a few that wanted a little female companionship, or maybe a threesome."
He looked at her a long time, trying to decide whether or not she was serious. He decided that she was kidding, that she knew what a lousy summer Rick had gotten himself into and that she wanted no part of it. A long sigh escaped his lungs as if he were an old pioneer who found it hopeless to explain to the youngsters exactly how it used to be in the old days.
"It's shitty," he said. "It's a lousy life."
"That's the first true thing I think I've ever heard you say. What went wrong with your great plan?"
"I don't know. I think the plan was all right, it all worked just like it was supposed to. It's just that I've gotten so damn horny I can't seem to stand it anymore."
"With all the women you've been getting? According to rumor, that is."
"I've been getting a lot, maybe that's the trouble. Quantity with damn little. quality." He looked at her. Her young breasts were firm. She wore only shorts and a triangular cloth over her breasts, tied around the neck and waist. She wore no brassiere since her breasts vibrated a little as she maneuvered the steering wheel. He thought he sensed the nipples firming as he looked at them. Her body was altogether tight, no part of it dangled in loose folds of soft flesh. Her hair was thick, blond, and he remembered the strength of her cunt, its depth, the excitement that had rippled his body as Jane had kicked off her shorts that time on the boat, his almost breath-taking sensations as he bad gently Iain over her, his balls grazing the hair over her Venus mound.
"Isn't it Easy Street," she asked, "what you wanted?"
"It is Easy Street, and is what I wanted, I guess, but there are times when I want something else." He made the mistake of laying his hand on Jane's bare thigh.
She moved his hand back to his own lap.
"I won't let you make love to me again," she said, sadly. "I did once, and I liked it a lot. An awful lot. But I just can't let you do it to me again. You're like a drug. I could get addicted to you and I don't want to. If you stay with the old ladies, you just won't have time for anybody else and I can't afford a part-time boyfriend."
Rick thought he noticed a weak link in her theory. "I'd be going away to school again at the end of summer anyway, even if I wasn't going with the old ladies. Some of whom, you might be interested to know, aren't so old in bed."
"I'm not interested."
"Anyway, I couldn't be anything but a part-time boyfriend. Since I'd be going back to school. Why can't we just have something going for the summer, then call it quits in the fall, like adults."
"I don't want it, that's why. I thought we had a chance, earlier, but I don't want it now. Thanks anyway. You stay with your old ladies this summer and see if you want to go to Florida with them, or if you'd rather go back to school."
Rick had thought he was close to making up his mind in the interests of higher education, but she was making him mad enough to chase off to Florida in pursuit of the sixty-year-old quail.
The party was not what Rick had expected. It was better.
Held in one of the older houses on the inland side of the highway, away from the wealthy section, the party seemed to have attracted every person in the area under the age of twenty-five. As if they had all decided to get it together for one night, rich and poor alike, as if they had all gotten fed up with the artificial separations imposed by their parents and guardians and said to hell with all that crap.
Not only were all the waitresses from the resort on hand, but so were the kids who sold popcorn, the gas-station attendants, and kids Rick had never seen except when they stepped out of their father's yachts to order more liquor. And what was more surprising, they were all talking to each other and seemed to be having a good time.
Rick took a can of beer from a tub filled with ice. It fizzed when he opened it and the brew tasted cold and clear. It was… well, he tried to find the right word… it was good, delicious… no, there was no way to describe it other than that it was very refreshing. He had drunk so many absinthes, brandies, cordials, old lady drinks for so long that a good long drink of cold beer tasted like a breath of fresh air.
He wondered if Mrs. Witherdine had given up on him yet and gone to bed, or if she was impatiently pacing the floor. He imagined briefly that tonight might have been the night she would have swallowed his load, let him come in her mouth while he held her by the ears, but the idea of traipsing up her back stairs after Marie and going in and out the back way like a delivery boy turned him off.
Jane left him as soon as they arrived. Rick began to circulate, carrying his beer. All the girls were pretty, he thought, but maybe he had a prejudiced viewpoint since he hadn't had a young cunt in his arms for so long. He was indeed hungry for one, and he thought he saw one he wanted but while she was talking to a boy in the corner, the boy who ran the carousel for the little kids while their mothers cavorted on the beach, she squatted down on her heels and he leaned into the corner slightly and she pulled out his penis and started sucking on it. Rick turned away quickly, rather shocked and embarrassed but pleased as well. If it was going to be that kind of party, he thought, let it begin with me.
When someone touched his elbow, he jumped as if he had been hit with an electric shock.
When he turned and recognized Jenny Roman's long aristocratic face smiling at him with her perfect teeth, her mouth that looked sweet enough to bite, he nearly suffered a severe brain dislocation. He had been thinking hard about a fuck, and suddenly his most desirable fuck appeared in front of him and she reminded him instantly that he was standing up her great-aunt, his passage through the old lady's vagina onto Easy Street secure if he did not screw it up.
She waited for Rick to speak and when he didn't, she asked, "How's Auntie?"
"I don't know," he said. "You probably see her more than I do."
"I might see her more often, but you see more of her, I'm sure."
"I haven't seen her this week at all."
"Oh, really?" Jenny acted surprised. "Well, I suppose you've been very busy with other details of your work."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Do you still have time to teach sailing?"
"It's my job, you know. Sure I have time for it."
Jane, having seen them talking together, crossed the room to join them. It was her only chance to show rich Jenny Roman that little Jane the waitress could date Rick Temple, the famous gigolo.