VICTOR JAY

The Gay Haunt

Traveller’s Companion, 1970

The impact of the Stonewall riots could be felt on the world of gay pulps. Because the turnaround time on writing and production was so swift, it was possible to include changes in the world of politics soon after they happened. By 1970, some pulps were mentioning the Gay Liberation Movement, and in 1971 Richard Amory’s Frost was dedicated to “my brothers and sisters in the San Jose Gay Liberation Front.”

New venues and publishing opportunities also opened up. Olympia Press had always welcomed gay material (their Paris imprint published The Gaudy Image in 1958), but their New York imprint, which began in 1967, had hardly published any books with primary gay content. But between 1970 and 1973 Olympia’s Traveller’s Companion series issued fifteen gay male erotic novels that were up to the usually high standards of the press. Olympia Press was a step up for gay erotic publishing. Authors had more control over their work; the books were sold in bookstores, not just newsstands; and most important, the books were treated with respect by both critics and readers. What would have been sold as porn from the pulp factories in California now became literature (or, at least, classy erotica).

Another difference was length. The average gay pulp novel ran between forty thousand to forty-five thousand words. A novel in the Traveller’s Companion series could run up to sixty-five thousand words, giving the author space to actually develop plot, characters, and ideas. Olympia Press also prided itself on its literary excellence. The back cover copy of Amory’s Frost, for instance, ends with a nod to Chaucer’s Nun’s Priest by adding, “Amor Vincit Omnia—eventually!”

Victor Jay’s The Gay Haunt flaunts its literary antecedents. It’s a witty social comedy about a gay man who tries to advance his career by marrying the boss’s daughter, only to discover that the ghost of his late boyfriend has other plans. Gay readers of the time would quickly have recognized that Jay was drawing on both Thorne Smith’s enormously popular 1926 novel, Topper (later made into a film and then a television series), and Noël Coward’s 1941 play, Blithe Spirit. Both are noted artifacts of gay male culture that feature ghosts who come back to get involved in the sexual activities of the living. (They are, in fact, the specters of queerness in a heterosexual world.) Jay draws his basic plot from the Coward play, in which the spirit of the late wife wants to ruin her former husband’s marriage, but takes his tone from Topper, where the ghosts are a fun-loving, madcap couple who decide that the stodgy, conventional protagonist needs some loosening up. Jay’s hero gets loosened up so much that he even enjoys a little sex with women, something he was not looking forward to in his impending marriage.

Victor Jay is the pseudonym of Victor J. Banis, who also wrote under the names of Don Holliday, J. X. Williams, Lynn Benedict, and Jan Alexander. Banis was one of the marvels of pulp publishing and penned an enormous volume of work. He published three other gay pulp novels as Victor Jay, sixteen as Don Holliday, and seven as J. X. Williams. He also wrote scores of heterosexual pulps.

Paul, the protagonist of The Gay Haunt, is about to marry the boss’s daughter, only to be sidetracked by his late lover, Lorin (as well as several other very alive men). In these chapters Paul has just finished having sex with Don (his future wife’s cousin) when Lorin drops in. Within a short time, things get even more complicated.

Chapter 14

“My, you are the hot one,” Don said when I released him from a long, torrid kiss.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I warned him. “Let’s get out of these clothes, okay?”

He cast a glance in the direction of the door. “Maybe we ought to leave the clothes on, in case anyone comes in. That can be embarrassing. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I came here just to trick.”

I flipped the lock on the door. “No intruders, okay?”

“Well…” He still looked a little hesitant. I came back to where he was standing and kissed him again, running my hands over the full little mounds of his ass. That, apparently, was where the switch was hidden. “All right,” he said brightly, wriggling against me.

I gave his butt a smack. “Out of the clothes,” I said. Naked I felt I had a better chance of keeping him here. Lorin was one of the few people I had known who went around crowded rooms naked. I was hoping Don was a little more modest.

I was already undressed by the time he had shed his briefs. He looked quite delectable, in fact, so the effort I was making was not merely a matter of caution. As for my fears about taking Margo’s cousin to bed, they no longer seemed valid, since he thought we had done it already.

We kissed again, and I fell backward, taking him with me to the bed. I rolled him over and inserted a tongue in his ear, making him squeal. His naked flesh felt like velvet to my roaming hands. This was altogether a pleasant task I had set myself.

We rolled onto our sides, facing one another. He pulled slightly away from me and slid downward, working his way down to my crotch. My cock was certainly more than ready for him by the time he got there. I gasped with excitement as he clasped it and brought his mouth to the head; the lips slipped warmly over it. He sucked it deep into his throat.

I scrambled around on the bed, careful not to interfere with what he was doing, and managed to get into a sixty-nine position. His own cock tasted sweet and young and altogether delicious. I sucked on it hungrily, my nose buried in his balls. I had a splendid view of his ass, with its dimpled cheeks and the soft inviting valley between. I cupped my hands over the soft mounds, massaging them lightly. He pushed back gently against my hands.

I pressed him forward slightly, rolling over again until he was above me and I was on my back. I licked at his dangling balls and then began to work my way beyond, pulling his cheeks apart as I licked my way upward. My tongue reached the core and he sighed happily, pushing back against my face.

I slid back, between his legs, and got to my knees behind him. It was just too good not to crawl into. I didn’t need any lubricant either. The spit he had gotten on my prick and the spit I had left on his ass were all that was necessary. I brought the head to his hole and worked it carefully in. He bent further, lifting his ass up, to make the entry easier for me.

He was hot and tight, clinging to my rod as I thrust in. I paused, waiting until I felt the muscles relax slightly, then going a little deeper.

“Oh, give it to me,” he murmured, wriggling his little ass slightly.

I did. I drove it home, filling his ass with eager cock. He welcomed it greedily, groaning with pleasure as he sat back on it. It went in to the hilt, the entire shaft disappearing as his ass brushed my balls. It was sheer heaven! No wonder Lorin had had such a pleasant time!

Fucking Don, however, got progressively wilder. It was somewhat akin to riding a bucking bronco. He was certainly not the sort to just sit or kneel there while you poked. He began to swing his hips, gyrating them much as he had done when we were dancing. My thrusts were almost unnecessary. He bounced and bobbed and twisted and writhed, and my cock kept feeling harder and bigger and hotter until it was close to exploding. We were both sweating, our bodies making little slapping sounds as they came together.

It was not long before I felt that familiar, delightful ache in my balls. Deep down inside me a knot of tension was beginning to grow. It swelled, seeming to fill me entirely, and then it was rushing down and out, erupting into the hot receptacle of his ass, and I was clinging fiercely to him, groaning and gasping for breath.

It took several long seconds to regain my senses. Finally, reluctantly, I slid my prick from the still-tight opening. I pushed him down on the bed and reached for his cock. It felt wet and sticky to my grasp.

“I’ll bring you off,” I said, lowering my head toward him.

“Not necessary,” he whispered.

“Of course it is. Fair is fair.”

“Not necessary,” he repeated. “I already came. While you were fucking me.”

I felt more carefully. He wasn’t kidding. I had heard of guys who got so excited getting fucked that they shot without anything more being needed, but this was the first time it had ever happened with me. With Lorin a little hand action had been employed if we wanted to come together.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I said. I fell back on the bed and gave his ass a pat. “You’re pretty good.”

“So are you,” he said. After a pause, he added, “you know, I wish Lorin had been with us. I’ve never had a three-way, but with you and him I’ll bet it would be fun.”

I sat up on the bed. “Look, about this Lorin business,” I said, measuring my words carefully. “I think you had better forget all about what you told me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“About seeing Lorin. People will think you were drunk, if they’re being kind, or maybe even crazy.”

“Why?” he wanted to know.

“Because,” I said again. “Lorin is dead. He is six feet under the ground.”

“Tosh,” Lorin said, popping into view. “I may be three sheets to the wind, but that’s all.”

“You see,” Don said, giving me a triumphant look. “I told you.” He seemed quite unperturbed by Lorin’s unusual manner of entrance.

“I thought we had an agreement—” I said angrily to Lorin.

“He’s already seen me tonight,” Lorin interrupted. “So it seems pointless to keep hiding from him. Anyway, we met before.”

“Five years ago,” Don said.

“More recently than that,” Lorin said. “At Paul’s. That was me in bed with you.”

“You?” Don’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked at me, then Lorin, and back to me. “Well, isn’t that funny? I was wondering why your cock wasn’t as big.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” I said, vaguely offended. I couldn’t see any necessity for telling him all this.

“He’s been telling everyone you were dead,” Don said to Lorin.

“Well, I am, sort of,” Lorin explained. “But it’s really all very complicated, and I don’t know that anything is going to be accomplished by going into it. Why don’t we just agree that this will be a secret between the three of us, and that will be that?”

“Sure thing,” Don said brightly. “As long as a guy is groovy and good in bed, what do I care about his background or where he comes from?”

“That’s the spirit,” Lorin said. He turned to me, obviously intending to charm me into a better humor. “See, everything is fine.”

“I’m not sure.” I leaned a little closer and peered at him. “You’re drunk. I didn’t think ghosts got that way.”

“No law against it. And you’re a fine one to talk.”

He was right, I was squiffed too, and feeling it more than ever, having burned off a little energy with Don. “I suppose we should have some coffee,” I said.

“Like hell,” Lorin replied. “I’ve worked too hard to get this way. Honestly, every time I’d get a drink mixed, somebody would come along and take it right out of my hand.”

“Besides,” Don chimed in, “why go to all the trouble of getting that way just to not be?” He frowned as a new thought crossed what for want of better description could be termed his mind. “Only, what will we drink? There’s nothing in here.”

Lorin gave a wave of his hand. “There is now,” he said. A magnum of champagne and three glasses appeared on the dresser.

“I thought you waved wands to do that sort of thing,” I said. “Or is that for fairy dragmothers?”

“If I waved my wand, it would come,” Lorin said. “I haven’t had anything tonight, and I got awfully horny watching you two guys.”

“That’s no problem,” Don said quickly.

“A child after my own heart,” Lorin said.

“It’s not your heart he’s after,” I offered.

“But first,” Lorin said, ignoring my comment, “a glass of the bubbly.” He poured the sparkling liquid into the three glasses and handed them around. I figured, what the hell, and emptied my glass. Lorin filled it again almost at once.

“Gee,” Don said, sighing happily and looking from one to the other of us. “All we need now is a roaring fire in the fireplace.”

“That’s very simple,” Lorin said, weaving a little unsteadily. He was obviously having a grand time showing off. Of course, I had not been very appreciative of these stunts since he came back, so it was logical he would delight in having a better audience. “Fire is something of a specialty where I come from.”

He waved his hands again without even looking from the champagne he was pouring. A warm blaze appeared at the wall behind him. I emptied my glass again and lay back on the bed. Sometimes it’s wisest not to argue with the fates. I couldn’t at the moment rid myself of either of them, so I might as well relax and enjoy them.

“To love,” Lorin said in the way of a toast, lifting his glass in what I considered a rather flashy gesture.

Don lifted his in return. “I never met a man I didn’t love,” he said, finishing off the golden liquid in one fell swoop.

Lorin came closer and filled my glass again. I tried, and confirmed that one cannot drink lying down. I sat up and lifted the glass to my lips.

I didn’t drink, however. The flicker of flames beyond Lorin caught my attention. My first thought was that Elliot had one huge fireplace in his bedroom. Then I remembered what should have occurred to me before—Elliot didn’t have a fireplace in his bedroom. And Lorin hadn’t thought to conjure up one to go with the fire. As a result, half the room was now ablaze.

Chapter 15

“Lorin!” I cried, pointing.

He turned and saw the fire. “Well, for heaven’s sake, what happened there?”

“It’s that damn fire you started,” I said. “There was no fireplace there.”

“Never occurred to me,” Lorin said, looking thoughtfully at the flames licking up to the ceiling.

“Well, don’t just stand there staring,” I cried. “Put the damn thing out!”

“I don’t know how,” he said.

“What?”

“Where I come from, we learn to start them. There’s never any reason to extinguish them.”

The noises of the party, which I had thought were getting unusually loud, were a roar now, and I realized that the fire was the general topic of discussion. Somewhere in the distance, but growing louder, I recognized the sound of a fire siren.

“Where are our clothes?” I asked gruffly, getting off the bed.

“I put them all on the chair,” Don said.

“I don’t see any chair,” I said, looking around.

“It was over there,” Don explained, pointing to where the fire burned brightest.

“I don’t know why you’re worrying about clothes,” Lorin said. “It seems plenty warm in here. I was glad to get rid of mine again.”

He was naked once again by this time. That, however, was not much of a consolation. “You realize,” I said, “that we could be burned alive.”

“In my case, that would be difficult.”

“Don and I could end up joining you,” I said.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” he said, screwing up his face thoughtfully. “I mean, we do make an attractive threesome, and we could have such fun.”

“Lorin!” I snapped.

“Oh, all right, if you’re going to be fussy about it.” He looked annoyed. “There’s a window over there, and a fire escape outside.”

“I don’t suppose you could produce some clothes for us, could you?” I asked. The closet was unreachable by this time, and the bedroom was like an inferno. But I was nonetheless a little reluctant to go running out dressed as we were.

“I think you both look lovely,” Lorin said.

“God damn it, I don’t feel lovely,” I said, not caring if I hurt his feelings. The fire was hurting my feet. “Get me some clothes, right now, or I’ll report you as a failure as a spirit.”

“All right, all right, don’t get all uptight. Honestly!” He made a movement of his hand and stamped his foot twice. There was suddenly a beaded evening gown on the bed before me.

“What in the name of heaven is this?” I demanded, holding it up for inspection. It looked like a Salvation Army reject.

“You seemed in such a hurry I didn’t take time to shop around,” Lorin explained.

“I think it’s gorgeous,” Don said, taking it and fingering the material.

“You wear it then,” I said, yanking a blanket off the bed and wrapping it around me. The window was stuck. I had to take one of the pillows to it and knock the glass out.

“Careful,” I warned the others, climbing through with my blanket tucked about my legs.

Don actually had taken time to put on the gown. It looked more than a little weird; even if it had been a lovely gown, and he a qualified drag queen, it would have looked strange without wig, makeup, shoes, or any such garnishes.

“You really aren’t going down on the street with that on?” I asked.

“It’s chilly out here,” he said, lifting his skirts.

The fire escape was over an alley. Below we could see a part of the street, looking like a beehive of activity. Red lights flashed on and off, sirens still wailed, and over it all was the hubbub of countless voices. I felt more than a little silly in a blanket, accompanied by one naked man and another in a beaded gown, but the only alternative was remaining where we were, which could mean being burned alive.

“Let’s go,” I muttered, starting down. Don followed close at my heels, taking pains not to trip over his skirt, and Lorin trailed, seemingly in no particular hurry, although of course he was in no particular danger. Being dead has its advantages, that was plain.

I had hoped we might escape detection, but there was just too much going on below, and too many people. And we were a conspicuous trio. Fortunately Lorin remained behind me so that, surprisingly enough, Don and I got most of the attention.

Perhaps the greatest irony of all was that by the time we got to the street, sticking as close to the walls as possible for shelter, most of the excitement was over.

“It’s all under control,” one woman assured me. “Fire’s practically out. They’re looking for the damage now.”

I was wondering if we couldn’t possibly go back up the fire escape and avoid the embarrassment of a frontal entrance, when Lorin gave my blanket a tug.

“Look,” he said, pointing.

I looked, but saw nothing unusual—nothing unusual, that is, at the site of the fire. There were crowds, mostly in the other direction, and a hook and ladder truck parked at the curb, apparently not needed.

“I don’t see anything but a fire truck,” I said.

“That’s it,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to drive one. I didn’t dare before, I was afraid I’d get killed. But now I don’t have to worry. Come on, let’s go for a ride.”

“Are you crazy?” I asked, staring wide-eyed. “Maybe you can’t get killed, but I can.”

“Oh, that’s what’s wrong with you, Paul, always nitpicking.” He was already headed toward the truck. “I’m going for a ride. Anyone who wants to join me climb aboard. Don, how about you?”

“It sounds scary,” he said. A smile flitted across his features. “But it sounds like fun too. Wait for me.”

Everybody of course was paying attention to the apartment building. No one noticed Lorin, naked as a jaybird, helping Don, in his beaded gown, onto the truck.

“You can’t drive this thing alone,” I yelled. “It takes two people to drive one of these jobs. One up front and one back here.”

“Well, what are you standing there for?” Lorin yelled back, already at the wheel. He waved his hand and I was suddenly sans blanket. I threw a hand over my cock and looked around for some place to hide. The truck was the nearest place. I made a jump for it just as it started to roll.

Someone shouted and I blinked. I suppose I had thought someone might manage to stop Lorin, or perhaps he was only kidding, or perhaps he might not even know how to get it started. But before I could even reconsider and jump off, the siren suddenly split the air and we were roaring away with more speed than I would have thought the mammoth machine capable of.

“Lorin!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, clinging frantically to a handle of some sort or other and aware that, bare-assed, I was not only conspicuous but a damn good target if anyone decided to shoot.

He shouted something back. It sounded like “Steer the back end!” We were roaring down the street, siren screaming. For the moment he was all right, although the rear end was weaving back and forth dangerously. But he’d never get this beast around a corner without some help back here, and if he piled up now, I had more to lose than he did. I swallowed, and scrambled up to the seat and the extra wheel positioned back there to take care of the wide-swinging rear.

In his own way, Lorin could be quite thoughtful. A big tumbler filled with champagne suddenly appeared on a tray before me. I took the glass and the tray disappeared. The champagne helped with the fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t mind at all when it refilled itself. Ahead of me I could see Lorin’s naked back. Don was standing, silvery gown fluttering behind him, and hanging out one side.

Behind us there was a considerable uproar. People had shouted as we went away, but by now there were other sirens and red lights roaring away from the curb in hot pursuit.

“Lorin,” I screamed, not at all sure he could hear me. “They’re after us.”

He decided, apparently, that they would have to catch us first. I tried to sit down, but the combination of cool night air and leather did not make the seat comfortable. I jumped when my balls touched the cold seat, and sent the back end of the truck sweeping wide to the left.

“Easy,” I told myself, bringing it back in line. I wondered helplessly if there were some way of stopping my half without bothering the front end, but I wasn’t sure enough to risk anything.

We were suddenly taking a corner. I put all the muscle I could into the huge wheel before me. Somehow the rear end managed to get around the corner as well. I was so engrossed in that concern that it was a moment or so before I realized that we were on the Sunset Strip. Of course, with the sirens and lights going, the traffic was no problem. But the Strip was always crowded, with everything from hippies to Midwest tourists. And even in that exotic scene we were a striking sight, two of us naked and one more or less in drag. Lorin was brandishing a champagne glass as though blessing the crowds. Someone cheered and I toasted him with my glass as we swept past. I tried keeping a hand over my crotch, but found that impossible without spilling my champagne, which I felt increasingly important.

I looked over my shoulder. The police and fire vehicles were a veritable parade in hot pursuit, and gaining rapidly on us. I tried shouting at Lorin, and signaling, but he had chosen to ignore me for a time, basking as he was in the glow of considerable attention, which had always delighted him.

He suddenly gave me a signal for another turn, and almost before I knew what was happening we were screeching around another corner, the rear end swinging wide as I fought to keep it under some kind of control. I hadn’t even begun to establish any such control when Lorin was taking us around yet another corner, this one looking altogether too small for the truck to fit into. It was an alley, in fact; I realized he was trying to dodge our pursuers, although the idea of hiding a multi-ton fire truck seemed rather far-fetched to my way of thinking. But of course, I reckoned without Lorin’s talents, those that he had acquired in the last five years. I looked back to see that the entrance to the alley was a solid wall of rosebushes and trellises, hiding us from view. Sirens shrieked and lights flashed through the growth as the chasing vehicles went racing by.

I let out the breath I had been holding, as nearly as I could calculate, since we left the apartment building. Lorin was already scrambling down the front end.

“Better move,” he yelled. “They’ll be back in a minute.”

“Where would you suggest we go?” I called back. “I’m going to look a little conspicuous on the Strip.”

“Move up in the world,” he called. He worked the appropriate switches to send the huge ladder suddenly climbing upward.

“I will not,” I said. I had no intention of perching atop a ladder until discovered by the police, and unless I wanted to break into one of the apartments in the building beside me, I couldn’t see that the ladder was going to take me anywhere.

The sirens were suddenly growing louder again. The police were coming back. Lorin was right, of course; in a minute or so they would discover the hidden alley.

I looked back to where Lorin had been, but he and Don had disappeared. I looked around frantically. One side of the alley was a high wall which I had little chance of getting over and which apparently only bordered a parking lot anyway. The other side of the alley was a line of apartment buildings. I ran to the one nearest me, trying a door that apparently led to laundry facilities. It was locked.

Up seemed the logical direction after all. Maybe I could find an empty apartment and borrow some clothes. Without clothes it mattered little which way I went, I was bound to stand out like a sore thumb.

I looked up. One window on the fourth floor was open and dark. It offered the best possibilities. I guided the ladder as close to it as I was able in my inexperience and began to climb hastily upward.

I made it none too soon. I had just reached the ledge outside the open window when a police car stopped at the end of the alley. I balanced on the ledge and gave the ladder a shove—no use leaving too obvious a trail. Then I hoisted myself up to the high sill and wriggled through the window.

The room inside was pitch-dark. I could only guess how far the floor was, and what might be on it. But I damn well couldn’t stay where I was. I took a deep breath and dropped through—and landed, not on the floor, but on a bed. The bed was occupied. I found myself suddenly amidst a profusion of flesh.

Chapter 16

“My God!” a male voice said from beneath me. “We’re caught! It’s my wife!”

“Your wife?” a female voice said. “I didn’t know you had a wife!”

“I beg your pardon,” I said, trying to extricate myself from the tangle of arms and legs. “But I’m not your wife, sir.”

A hand felt along my leg, reached my cock, and grasped it. “You’re right,” the woman said. “He’s not your wife, Henry.” The hand stayed where it was, stroking with what seemed more than casual interest. My own hand was imprisoned under an ample derriere. I squeezed, and the ass squirmed a little.

“Who are you, then?” the man demanded.

“No one you know,” I said. “I was just passing by and thought I’d drop in.” I felt along the curve of the ass to the thighs, and between the legs. I reached a rather puny set of balls.

“Not now, Doris,” the man said. “I want to get to the bottom of things.”

I had already accomplished that myself. My foot was resting against another thigh. Presumably that belonged to the woman. I felt with my foot and thrust my big toe right into a warm cunt. She giggled.

“That tickles,” she said. She had continued to feel my cock, long past the point where my sex could be in question, with the result that it now was bone hard and standing erect.

“I want to know what’s the big idea, interrupting people like this,” Henry said. “I’ve got a good mind to call the cops.”

“I wouldn’t,” the woman said, changing positions so that she was lying alongside me. “Think of the publicity. Think of your wife. What if she read the papers?”

“I don’t think she can even read,” he said. “Say, whose side are you on, anyway?”

By this time she wasn’t on her side at all, she was on her back, tugging ambitiously to get me on top of her. I offered nothing more than token resistance. In the first place I didn’t have much of an alternative. By this time the neighborhood was crawling with cops, and I could hardly leave in my current state of undress. I needed a place to hole up, in a manner of speaking, and she was offering me one. In the second place I was somehow miraculously aroused. I suppose it was the result of the earlier excitement, the drinking and that wild chase on a fire truck; whatever the cause, I was primed and ready. We managed to get into position and there was hardly any resistance when my prick slipped into her warm sheath.

“Henry, you’re a rat,” she said over my shoulder, wriggling her butt happily in response to my deep thrust. “You didn’t say anything about a wife to me.”

“Must have neglected to mention it,” Henry mumbled. “But damn it, Doris, that’s got nothing to do with this. We’ve been set upon by a madman. Heaven only knows what he intends to do with us.”

“If he does to you what he’s doing to me,” she said, “you’ve got a streak in you I didn’t suspect.”

“What are you talking about?” There was some shuffling about and a hand moved along my leg, over my ass, and down to the point where Doris and I more or less became one. They felt my balls suspiciously.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Doris!” The lights came on, blinding me. I blinked a few times before I got a good look at Doris. She wasn’t all that bad—a little hard-looking, but basically pretty. Henry was fat and bald and looked highly piqued at the situation.

“Hey, you look as good as you feel,” Doris said, gazing appreciatively up at me. She raised her butt up to meet me. I had paused when the lights came on, not certain of Henry’s reaction. But I figured if Doris didn’t care what he saw, why should I? I took up the fucking again.

“What are you doing?” Henry demanded.

“You mean you can’t tell from looking?” I asked. “Maybe I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re doing everything right,” Doris said, beginning to pant a little.

“This is the limit,” Henry said.

“Not far from it,” I admitted, moving a little faster. I was rapidly approaching a climax, and from Doris’s breathing and her increasingly frantic movements I felt pretty sure she was right along with me.

The doorbell rang. Doris seemed oblivious to the sound. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” Henry asked.

“You get it,” she said, clinging tightly to me.

Grunting angrily, Henry got up and walked to the door, his limp dick flopping ineffectually against his leg. As the door opened, I got a glimpse of men in blue.

“Ah hah!” one of the policemen said, seizing Henry’s arm. “You’re just the guy we were looking for.”

“What is this?” Henry asked, struggling to free himself from the grip. “What’s this all about?”

“Don’t give us that innocent routine,” the officer said, holding firm. “We’ve been chasing your fire engine around town, and when we found it in the alley, we knew you had to be in this building somewhere. Come along now.”

“There’s some mistake,” Henry said. “I’ve been here with my lady friend all evening.”

“Your lady friend?” The cop looked past him to where Doris and I were still joined together. Caught in the act, so to speak, it had seemed a bit pointless to try to hide what we were doing.

“Don’t mind us,” Doris said. “We won’t be long.”

I was fucking hard now, pulling it nearly out, then slamming it all the way back in.

“Is that all you?” Doris asked me.

“I think so,” I said. “Although with all these people around we can’t be sure.”

“Do you know this guy, lady?” the officer asked, indicating Henry.

“Never saw him before in my life,” Doris said without breaking rhythm. “My boyfriend here and I were just spending a quiet evening together when that guy climbed in the window and dropped on top of us.”

“Doris!” Henry was quite shocked. “This is preposterous,” he told the policemen. “I’ve known this young lady nearly a year. We spend many evenings together.”

“What a terrible thing to say,” Doris said. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, mister. Why, think how that would look if it came out in the papers. Think of what your wife would say.”

“Certain grounds for divorce,” I said, really pouring on the steam now. I could feel my climax welling up with me, ready to explode.

“And a fantastically expensive alimony,” Doris agreed, writhing and thrashing wildly about.

Henry looked completely nonplussed. “I’ve never had anything like this,” he said.

“Neither have I,” said Doris. She sank her teeth into my shoulder and her body jerked spasmodically as she reached her climax.

“Okay, buddy,” the policeman said, “it’s off to the station with you. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” Two other policemen grabbed Henry and led him forcibly from the room.

“Hey,” another policeman said, for the first time getting a good look at Doris and me. “What are you doing?”

“It’s done,” I said, letting out my breath in a long sigh. Doris’s frantic climax had brought me off as well, and I had just finished shooting a healthy load of come into her.

I turned to look at the policeman still lingering in the door. “Would you fellows mind?” I said. “It’s a little drafty in here.”