Robert Vickers: Her lover son

"Was that good enough for starters?" he asked, smiling.

Joleen looked up at him. Starters? He wanted to fuck some more?

"I suppose so," she said, not wanting to betray just how much he had taken out of her.

"Okay. I'll make the rounds, and as soon as you're ready, I'll be back. See you later!" With that, Willie was off.

In a few minutes, Joleen saw him fucking the blonde who had been discarded by the brawny guy she'd had her eye on all night long. It seemed that her dream lover had fallen asleep, while Willie was just beginning to get into the swing of things.

Joleen said to Larry, who had begun to fondle her tits, "I like this bunch. Why the hell didn't you invite me to one of these orgies sooner?"

Larry didn't answer. He was too busy sucking on one of his mother's tits.

"Tell me about Willie," Joleen coaxed her son. Larry sat eating an apple, apparently at ease after the party the night before at Katherine's. Joleen hadn't had the opportunity to get drunk and didn't have her usual hangover. Larry had managed to fuck just about every chick there and was feeling cocky about it. He and Katherine had finished off the evening with them going outside and falling into the swimming pool and fucking in the water. Since it had been almost four in the morning, no one had complained.

If anyone had seen them, they would have been more interested in watching than bitching. Katherine and Larry enjoyed fucking in the water and had gotten it down to a fine art, stoned or sober.

"What do you want to know about him? He's just a friend of mine, that's all." From the way her son said it, trying to be too casual, Joleen knew there was more.

"What's he do for a living? He seems a bit old for the crowd that shows up for your parties."

"No older than you are, Mother dear." Larry continued to munch his apple.

"What's he do for a living? You didn't mention that."

"Well, let's say that Willie is a dealer in used items that most people wouldn't want to handle because of the low resale value."

"He's a junk dealer?"

"Hell, no!" snapped Larry. "He doesn't even touch the hard stuff." When he saw that his mother had meant things like old cars rather than dope, Larry quickly added, "No, he doesn't deal in trash."

Joleen understood the meaning of the word she had used and saw how Larry had reacted. Willie had nothing to do with illicit drugs, that much was clear. What else could he do that was a trifle bit illegal? It was apparent that Willie was not engaged in anything legal or Larry would have flat out told her what he did for a living.

"Spell it out for me, Larry. In words of one syllable or less."

"Aw, hell and damnation, Mom." He saw the determined look on his mother's face and realized she would start digging if he didn't come through and tell her.

"Okay. Willie's a fence. He deals in hot merchandise. He takes stuff that no one else can handle, travels around a bit and gets rid of it. He makes damn good money. Better than the old man does, betcha."

So Willie was a fence. Joleen had heard how much money such men could make. They'd take stolen goods for ten percent of their value, then resell in other parts of the country for about eighty percent of the true value. On a hundred thousand dollars actual value, Willie stood to make as much as seventy grand. If he was a big-time operator.

Joleen thought back. Willie might be that big an operator. Or larger. He didn't strike her as being a loser, and from the things he said, he did a hell of a lot of traveling. There was a lot of risk, but the payoff seemed to be worth it.

"What's your connection with him?"

"Nothing much," said Larry. "I just sort of act as a go-between. Sort of his assistant, you might say. I know a lot of the guys in school who knock off joints and then can't move the stuff. I take it off their hands and pass it along to Willie. I get my cut, of course."

Joleen was curious as to what Larry's cut was. She refrained from nosing into his business. She didn't really care, but she thought he probably pulled the same deal that Willie did, but on a smaller scale. He paid ten percent of the value, possibly sold it to Willie for twenty percent. Then Willie moved it out of town and made sixty percent without even being seen by the punks ripping the stuff off.

It was a sweet deal, although Joleen didn't like to think that her son was leading a life of crime.

"How long have you been doing this, Larry?"

"Six months or so. Made some damn good money at it, too." He studied his mother, then added, "Would you believe almost ten grand? Better than I could make as a short-order cook burning hamburgers. In another couple years, I'll be making more than the old man. Not so bad pulling down that much without even a high school diploma. Course, I'll probably graduate since that's my source of contacts right now. I'd hate to lose some of them, too."

"But I think of the old man out there busting his balls, and then I think of how easy this is. Willie's told me he'll introduce me to the big boys in another couple months, and I might be able to move up to some of the better-class stuff. Maybe jewelry instead of stereos and that kind of shit."

In spite of herself, Joleen was fascinated. This wasn't the dirty end of crime. Willie and Larry didn't go out and stick a gun under some poor schmuck's nose and threatened to blow him away. They were only the middlemen, no more a criminal than some guy who embezzled from a big company.

"You say Willie travels a lot. Where does he go?"

Larry finished off his apple with one last big crunch. "All over the place, depending on what he's got. Some pictures at an exhibition were stolen, and he took them to Paris last year. Mostly he goes to New York and San Francisco. Sometimes up to Montreal or Toronto, though I can't say what for. He told me once that he had to go to Johannesburg, then to Amsterdam with a monster shipment of diamonds. Some black dude in South Africa ripped them off from a mine owner, Willie bought 'em for almost nothing, then took them straight to Amsterdam, had them cut and imported them to the States as legal as you please. Netted him close to half a million. But he had to split it with his boss. That guy really makes out fine."

Larry got up and left without saying anything further about Willie.

Joleen sat thinking of what her son had told her of Willie's profession. In a perverse way, she was excited by the prospect of knowing a big-time fence. It was so Goddamn dull just sitting around the house all the time, and Harold never took her anywhere. She never met anyone exciting, certainly never as exciting as Willie. She could hardly contain herself. She fantasized what it must be like going to far-off places, eluding the cops by wits rather than brute force, and making fortunes with every deal.

That was just like some of the detective shows on television. And she actually knew one of the "bad" guys. But Joleen couldn't think of Willie as being evil. He was too much a man, too good with his huge cock.

The woman's reverie was broken by the doorbell ringing. She looked at her watch and decided it was too late for the mailman to come by. Besides, ever since their brief encounter, he had been spooked about talking with her. Joleen had to laugh at the thought. Poor man had probably never been seduced by a cock-hungry female before.

She rose and went to the door. Much to her surprise, Willie was there.

"Uh, hi, Willie. Come on in!" She stepped aside to let him into the house.

"Good to see you again, Joleen. But I wanted to know if Larry is in. I've got this deal in the works and figured he was the one to handle it for me."

"You mean you want him to go pick up some stolen merchandise?" She was surprised at the calmness with which Willie took the news that she knew what his business was.