Mary Jenkins - Innocent in Chicago Volume One

"Pardon me," he said. "Are you sure you wouldn't like another drink?"

"No, thanks," she said.

"I can make it worth your while." They walked along together.

She sighed. And although he was still as unattractive as ever, she decided that he would be better than nothing, for it was growing late.

"Okay," she said wearily, wondering how much to ask for. "It'll be fifty."

He nodded his head; she wished she had asked for more.

They went to the hotel Frankie had pointed out, rented a room and went up without speaking. He counted out the fifty in ten dollar bills and handed them to her. She put them in her purse and they both began to undress, still without speaking. Well, she thought, if he's not going to say anything. I'll be damned if I will.

When she had undressed, she lay down on the bed and unenthusiastically watched him. He had hung his coat and shirt over the back of the chair and now was carefully laying his trousers on the seat, making sure the creases were straight. As she had expected, his body was as fat as his face, with roils of white, pasty dough trapped around his waist and a tiny prick dangling in a sparse black nest of hair. Her whole body felt cold; she looked down and saw it was covered with goose pimples. He walked over to the bed and looked silently down at her. She stared back without saying anything, but finally managed to smile weakly.

"Kiss my ear," he said coldly, "it's the only way I can get an erection," and lay down beside her without touching her.

She almost burst out laughing with surprise. Turning on her side, she began caressing his ear, running her tongue slowly along the grooves and swirls, sucking the lobe and kissing it with her wet lips.

"Harder," he said.

Okay, Cynthia thought to herself, you asked for it, and began viciously chewing and twisting his ear with her teeth until she thought she would tear it off. He was grunting and groaning, but whether with ecstasy or pain, she couldn't tell. She sank her sharp, white teeth deeper into his lobe and ran her tongue sharply inside. Glancing down through her long, blond hair lying over their faces, she almost fainted in surprise. Sticking up from his groin like a giant marble obelisk was one of the biggest erections she had ever seen. For the first time since she had met him, she began to get excited and wished he'd start making love to her.

He suddenly wrenched his head away, rolled over and straddled her, his buttocks on her belly, and bent to lick wetly the hollow between her full, white tits. With his hands cupped on either side of the quivering, resilient mounds he squeezed them together until the two red, hardened buds of her nipples were side by side. He thrust his loins forward, pressing the full length of his giant cock up the tight tunnel between, rocking back and forth so it slid up and down the saliva moistened groove. Seeing its tip appearing and disappearing between her tightly compressed breasts, she felt the familiar juices of lust begin to flow down between her legs. He took her hands and made her hold her tits together while he reached behind him and began to finger her vagina with hard brutal thrusts. And… just as the tension inside her was about to break, he slid down and thrust his huge, pulsating cock hard up into her throbbing and now hungry cunt. Her muscles contracted violently around his driving organ and she bucked under him as he ground down into her from on top of her writhing body.

"Bite my ear, bite my ear," he chanted down into her hair.

She seized it between her teeth and furiously sucked and chewed, feeling his pelvis smack against hers harder and harder until with one quick gasp from his lips he emptied himself completely inside her. She jerked for a moment trying to reach her own completion, but it was useless. He was dead inside her and rolled limply off her squirming body. She clenched her fists tightly together to drive back her disappointment. She overcame it quickly and got up and went into the bathroom to straighten herself up. He was still lying on the bed when she came out.

"Can't you stay any longer?" he said hopefully.

"No, I have to go," she answered, remembering Gypsy's advice to get out quickly when they had finished with her the first time. She dressed quickly while he watched her and left just as he started to get out of bed.

It wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be, she thought to herself as she descended the stairs toward the street. Now for home – and Frankie, she sighed with relief.

She walked away from the hotel and looked for a taxi. As she rounded a corner she collided with a man who was walking hurriedly, head bent. He stepped back, murmured, "Pardon me," and started to pass, when he suddenly shouted, "Cynthia! Cynthia Holiday!" and grabbed her arm. "Cynthia, how wonderful to see you!"

Not recognizing him at first, she stared blankly at his lean body and wide, happy smile. Then she realized it was Paul Dawson, the Paul of what seemed years ago, with whom she had grown up and who had taken her to the square dance just before she had come to Chicago.

"Paul Dawson!" she said and kissed him. "What are you doing in Chicago?" She was delighted to see him.

"Up over the weekend from college," he said. "I've been trying to find you all over. Your aunt gave me your address, but they said you'd moved."

"Yes, just a couple days ago."

"Come on. Let's get a drink. This needs celebrating." He steered her into a nearby bar, his young face radiating happiness. "What a piece of luck to run into you. I'd about given up."

They sat down and ordered drinks. "How's everything at home?" Cynthia said.

"Oh, fine. What are you doing these days?"

"I…" she hesitated. "I gave up my old job and am looking for a new one." The excitement of seeing Paul had whirled her back to the innocent days of her life on the farm and she had almost forgotten what she had been doing, just fifteen minutes ago. Knowing how horrified Paul would be if he found out, she became somewhat panic-stricken. It had all happened so gradually, she hadn't fully realized before how far she had come and how much her life had changed since she had left the farm.

"Didn't you like your old one?" he said.

"Not particularly. But I suppose I should have waited 'til I'd found another one… I'm getting kind of low, in cash, that is," she lied.

"Look, can I help you out, Cynthia?" he said eagerly. "Really, I'd love to loan you some money."

"No that isn't necessary, Paul, but thanks, anyway."

"Aw, come on." He reached in his pocket and got out his wallet. "Here, take thirty. Please. I wish I had more to give you."

"Well, okay. Thanks." She took the bills and stuffed them into her purse. She had long wanted to buy Frankie a present. She decided it would be better to steer the conversation away from how she spent her time. "How's college, Paul?"

"Okay. I'm almost through, you know. Just a few more months."

"Then what?"

"I thought I might come to Chicago and get a job. Are you planning on staying here?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"It seems to be agreeing with you. You look wonderful, Cynthia – and a lot older."

She laughed. "You mean I've aged that much?"

He blushed in confusion. "No. No. I didn't mean that! Just that you look so city-fied and sophisticated now. And beautiful!" He looked admiringly at her bare shoulders rising like a pale flower above the sheer black dress.

She laughed again. "You mean I wasn't before?" she said teasingly.

He became embarrassed. "You know what I mean. You know I've always thought you were just about the most beautiful thing ever."

He gazed at her, open adoration in his eyes; they reminded her of a puppy begging for food, pleading and hopeful. More accustomed to the hard, cynical talk and admiration of the men she had met since coming to Chicago, she found his boyish confusion and awkward attempts to compliment her appealing, although somewhat embarrassing. And then, too, he reminded her of her parents – a momentary twinge of guilt stirred in her heart as she thought of how much she had deceived them. But she felt happy again as she thought of Frankie and how exciting her new life was, a life she wouldn't trade for any other. She suddenly felt years older than Paul.