Lawrence Block - Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man

There may have been a couple of other references to Naughty Nasty Nancy Hall, but those are the only ones I can spot readily, and they should refresh your memory if you’ve already read this material or put you in the picture if you haven’t. What I want to tell you about, Rozanne, is what happened with Naughty Nasty Nancy at my place Saturday night and Sunday morning.

I won’t bother describing the apartment. You’ll see it for yourself when you finally get up the courage to come over and let me eat your box. Nor will I bother describing what went on for the first hour or two that Nancy (I’ll call her that for short) spent in my bed. I’ll just say that I licked her all over her body and then had prolonged intercourse with her. We shifted from one position to another on a sort of Cook’s Tour of the Kama Sutra . Throughout all of this, Nancy remained active and supple and industrious, and glee glinted in her gray-green eyes.

But somewhere along the way, Rozanne, I began to get the feeling that something was missing. Nancy was enjoying herself, but I wondered if perhaps she wasn’t enjoying herself a little less than she possibly might be. To construct a metaphor that you should appreciate, it was as if I had prepared a great plate of spaghetti for her but had stupidly failed to put any oregano in the sauce. It tasted good to her but it just didn’t taste right .

And this perception made it impossible for me to continue. Not physically impossible — I remained quite the upstanding citizen, actually — but spiritually impossible. And so I withdrew from the choicest part of Naughty Nasty Nancy, who is indeed a collection of choice parts, who is in fact a synergistic young woman whose (w)hole is greater than the sum of her parts, and I propped myself on an elbow and my cock on her thigh and looked long and searchingly into her baby gray-greens.

“Is something the matter, Larry?”

“You stole my line.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“You just did it again. Something’s the matter, and you don’t follow me. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Of course not.”

“But I seem to have left out the oregano.”

“I think I must have missed the opening credits,” she said. “I don’t get it.”

“That’s just it.”

“I mean, I’m having a wonderful time.”

“But there’s something you like that I’m not doing.”

“Not exactly.”

“That means yes.”

She put her hand on my cheek. Her hand was cold and dry. I brought her fingers to my lips.

“I don’t always come, if that’s what you mean. I can enjoy it without that.”

“But you sometimes come.”

“Sometimes.”

“Just with girls?”

“No. In fact I usually have a better chance with boys. I’m not really into girls that much, to tell you the truth. None of us really are. It’s having nothing but girls around all the time, and also that we love each other very much, and if you love someone you ought to love them physically. And also it feels good.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So it’s not that.”

“It’s something special that you like to do.”

“Sort of.”

“So tell me and we’ll do it.

“Well, you might not want to, Larry.”

“Only one way to find out.”

She turned her eyes away from me. “The thing is that it’s perverted.”

“Most everything is.”

“Well, more perverted than most.”

“So?”

She looked at me again. She was having trouble saying this, but her eyes still reflected a good measure of delight and amusement.

She said, “The thing is, it has to hurt.”

“Ah. Naughty Nasty Nancy .”

“That’s the idea.”

“Whom does it have to hurt?”

“Me. Although—”

“Yes?”

“When I get off, I can go a little bit crazy. Biting and scratching and things like that.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Also damned antisocial.”

“So let’s do it.”

“It doesn’t turn you off? Oh, my, I guess it doesn’t. How big and hard it is. Do you really want to?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She took a breath, and I watched her face change, her mouth slackened and her eyes glazed slightly. “Lie on your back, that’s right. No, spread your legs. Now get inside me. Oh, God, you’re so big and hard, and now I’ll put my legs together and squeeze you. Can you feel how tight I am around you?”

(I could, Rozanne. I could.)

“Now hook your feet around my ankles. That’s right, so I can’t move. Now spank me.”

“On the bottom?”

“Yes, right on my ass. Don’t move your hips, don’t move your cock around, just do everything with the spanking.”

“How hard?”

“As hard as you can. And if I say to stop or if I yell that it hurts, don’t pay any attention to me. Just go on hitting me harder. Use your other arm to hold me so I can’t move. Yes, that’s right. Now start beating the shit out of me. Oh, yes. Oh, Jesus. Naughty naughty naughty. Oh, naughty girl. God! Oh, you’re killing me! Oh, Jesus Christ, stop, you’re killing me, naughty, naughty, don’t stop, harder, oh, Jesus, oh —”

She had an absolutely overwhelming orgasm.

She wasn’t the only one, Rozanne.

Now you may be wondering why I took the trouble to tell you all this, Rozanne. You might even suspect that I simply wanted to write something that would get you all hot and bothered. I’ll admit that the thought did cross my mind that you might well read this letter with one hand tucked up under your skirt. In fact it pleases me to picture you that way.

But there’s more to it than that. You see, you want very much to come over and have me eat your pretty little cunt, but you’re afraid I’ll make a stab at your virginity. Or that I’ll be upset with you for wanting only to be eaten. So I offer this story as proof that you can trust me.

Naughty Nasty Nancy wanted to be spanked. So I spanked her. Because it was what she wanted. And, simply because it was what she wanted, it became what I wanted, and I enjoyed the whole process as much as she did.

Think of me as an instrument for your pleasure, Rozanne. I don’t know why you’re afraid of losing your cherry. I don’t have to know why, any more than I care why Nancy Hall can only come good when someone is reddening her rump. People who get hung up on why, wind up losing all their whats.

Call me. You can trust me. I’ll give you more fun than you’ve got fingers.

cc: Mrs. Lisa Clarke

Mr. Clarke You are behind your rent, landlord says you owe two months says pay up rite away or out you go and the missus both.

Sup’t

Mr. George Ribbentraub

Ribbentraub Realty Corp.

414 East 14 thSt.

New York City

Dear Mr. Ribbentraub:

Let me take this opportunity to wish you and yours a happy Fourth of July. Of course the Fourth will have come and gone by the time you read this, but it is that very day now as I write this, and I can honestly claim to be moved by the spirit that inhabited the breasts of our founding fathers when they struck a blow for liberty and freedom.

While I might have wished you a Safe and Sane Fourth in any case, I must confess that the main purpose of this letter is to apprise you of the fact that I have permanently vacated premises at 74 Bleecker St. I am accordingly enclosing herewith two keys, one to the vestibule and the other to the apartment. Another set of keys remains in the possession of my wife, Mrs. Laurence Clarke. She may be reached c/o American Express, Cuernavaca, Mexico. I don’t know the zip code, nor do I know whether appeals to her for the return of her set of keys are likely to meet with success. I tend to doubt it, as I have had no luck thus far in persuading her to send me $1480, which she seems to have taken along, like the keys, quite by mistake.