Speaeasy Girl

Chapter Seven - Changes

"Alice? Alice, can you hear me?" Mr. Walsh was bending over me.

He helped me up from the floor and sat me on a chair.

"I'm sorry. I fainted. You said that Benny..."

"Yes, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Kovak," Mr. Simmonds, the manager replied. My thought was that he didn't sound sorry. "Yes, I'm afraid he fell from the scaffolding walkway yesterday afternoon. He was working on building up the twelfth floor. He - he must have tripped. He was carrying a hod of bricks."

"Where - where is he now?"

"We've sent his body to the funeral home around the corner. We've collected up his effects, and he was owed twelve dollars and fifty cents in wages..."

"Show me where he died," Mr. Walsh said, his voice sounding angry.

"And you are?"

"The name's Walsh. I'm Mrs. Kovak's friend and representative. Show me where he fell."

I could see a look of alarm on Simmonds's face. I guessed he'd heard of Mr. Walsh. Most people had.

"Er - this is very irregular, Mr. Walsh. This is a working construction site. It - it isn't safe..."

"It clearly wasn't safe for Mr. Kovak. Fucking show me where he died!"

"There's no need to adopt that tone with me, Mr..."

Mr. Walsh jumped up, grabbed the manager by the lapels and shoved his face inches from Mr. Simmonds'.

"The husband of my dear friend Mrs. Kovak is dead, on your building site. If you don't want me to call my lawyer right now and start a claim for negligence, or maybe call some of my boys to pay you a visit, then show me where he fucking died!"

Simmonds reluctantly led Mr. Walsh outside. I just sat there, staring into space. Benny was dead. Dead! What was I going to do now? All my plans, everything I'd been doing for months, had been about getting enough money to get us away from here, where we could live quietly and reasonably comfortably, maybe have kids...

I realized I was shaking. And then the tears came. When Mr. Walsh came back, I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey, Alice," He said, kneeling in front of me and taking my head in his hands, "Let me take you home. I've had a conversation with Mr. Simmonds here, and he's promised to get back to me tomorrow. Now let's see if we can get you settled somewhere quiet."

Simmonds looked worried; very worried. I could see the expression on Mr. Walsh's face as he led me, with his arm around my shoulders, past the manager. "Don't forget what we discussed, Simmonds. I don't want to have to send my boys around to remind you."

Simmonds looked terrified. "Sure thing, Mr. Walsh. I'll - I'll be ready for you in the morning." He looked very different from the pompous, almost belligerent guy who'd been so nonchalant when he'd told me about Benny's death.

Mr. Walsh put me in the back seat of his limo. "Just a moment, Alice. I need to speak with someone."

The morning shift guys were just arriving, and Mr. Walsh went over to speak with some of them. One guy looked around, and then he and Mr. Walsh moved behind a big stack of bricks, out of view.

He came back, five minutes later, looking grim. "Just a moment, Alice. I need to have another word with Simmonds."

He headed back inside the office, and a few moments later, I heard Simmonds shout "What? That's - that's outrageous!"

A minute or so later, Mr. Walsh emerged, a slight smile on his face. He climbed into the back and Joey, his chauffeur, drove us back to my apartment block. On the way, I asked him what had just happened.

"It seems that Mr. Simmonds wasn't being completely truthful with us. He isn't a stickler for safety, and Benny died because of his negligence. A scaffolding pole that should have been secured - that he'd been told about several times, according to the guy I spoke with - fell and knocked Benny off the walkway."

I started sobbing again.

"Alice, baby, I can't do anything to bring Benny back, but I can make sure you're not destitute. Simmonds wanted to just pay Benny's back wages. I explained to him that he had responsibilities to Benny's widow. He was reluctant to accept this, but when I told him my line of business and mentioned sending my boys around, he started to see sense. I suggested a contribution of $3,000. He finally agreed, but after I'd spoken to one of the workers and found out how Benny died, I raised it to $7,000. He wasn't happy, but I let him know just how unhappy he'd be if I had to send anyone else to speak with him, but that his misery would probably be mercifully brief. He'll be getting me the money by the morning, and it's all yours, my dear."

I was stunned. Seven grand was a helluva lot of money in those days. Benny was getting just sixteen bucks a week. I was making better money than that, not including tips and 'gifts', but that was well over three years' money with both of us earning.

I hugged Mr. Walsh, even though I was still crying. When I'd first started working for him, he seemed nice. Then he made me let him fuck me up the ass and later tried to shove his cock down my throat. But every time, he gave me nice presents, he promoted me and seemed genuinely fond of me. And now, when I needed a good friend more than at any time before, he was there for me. He just put his arm around me and stroked my hair as I cried onto his nice camelhair coat.

When we stopped outside my apartment block, he said "Would you like me to come in with you?"

I thought about the shitty little apartment I'd shared with Benny, and I didn't want Mr. Walsh to see that. "Thanks, Mr. Walsh, but I think I just need to be on my own for a while."

"Sure, Alice. Take a few days off. Your money will be waiting for you at the club when you're ready to come back. And then we can talk about what you want to do next. Oh, and you might want this to help you through the next few days." He opened a little compartment and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

I needed the whiskey to get to sleep that night. Everywhere I looked, there were reminders of Benny. I cried and cried. The landlord, Mr. Franks, came by around ten on the first morning to say he was sorry that Benny had died - and to remind me the rent was due. I paid him, just to make the sleazeball go away.

I spent two days moping around. I went out to a diner to try to get away from the constant sense of loss that Benny's things kept stirring up in me. While I was there, I wrote to his folks in Milwaukee. I broke down, halfway through writing the letter, and the waitress, a matronly lady in, I guessed, her fifties, came to see what was wrong.

"Hey, miss. Why're ya crying? The coffee ain't that bad." She smiled at me in a friendly way.

"Sorry. Sorry, it's just - it's just that my husband - he died."

"Oh my Lord! Oh, you poor thing!" She looked around. The place was nearly empty. "Do you wanna talk about it? I can stop awhile if you'd like."

I tried to smile though my tears. "You're so kind, but no, thanks. I have to write this letter to his folks. Then, I guess, I need to arrange the funeral. I think that if I just focus on things like that, I'll get through it."

"Sure, miss, but if you need anything, just holler." She refilled my coffee cup and went back to the counter.

I finished the letter - and my coffee - and went to pay. The waitress hugged me.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. You're so young and it's hard for you. If you ever want to talk about it, come back here around this time, when we're not busy, and I'll be happy to listen. My Joe, he went off with another woman, six years ago. It ain't quite the same thing, but I was in pieces at the time and now I can always be a shoulder to cry on!"

I hugged her back, thanked her and went off to buy a stamp and post the letter. I went and sat in the park for a while, then I caught the bus back home. I decided I needed to pack up Benny's things and maybe take them to the thrift store. There wasn't much - Benny didn't have many clothes - but I broke down two or three times while I was doing it. The whiskey kinda helped to numb the pain, and I eventually fell asleep.

I woke up around eight PM. Not knowing what else to do, I got dressed and went to the club. Ginni saw me and immediately hugged me.

"We heard about Benny. You poor thing. You don't have to be here, you know. Mr. Walsh said you should take some time off."

"I can't. Our apartment just keeps reminding me of him. I finished a bottle of whiskey trying not to think about what's happened. I need to do something to help take my mind off it."

Vera, the 'mobile distraction' that Ginni and I had trained up after I'd taken over Pauline's role, came over to me.

"Oh, Alice. We're all so sorry for you." And we were hugging, and I noticed she was crying as well as me. So I dried my eyes, got myself ready and circulated upstairs. The croupiers and the regulars all told me how sorry they were, and I just kept taking deep breaths and getting on with it. Around two AM, as the place was emptying, I went to see Louis. He said all the sympathetic things and hugged me.

"Louis, could I sleep here tonight? I mean, on the couch? Only - only I can't face going back to the apartment on my own."

"I can do better than that, Alice baby. I can find you a room upstairs if you like, or - or you can come home with me. I don't mean - I don't mean into my bed. I have a spare room you could use."

I thought about it for a moment. Upstairs was where the hookers worked. The room he would give me would've been used for fucking several times during the evening. "Could I - could I please - please take you up on that offer? I'd rather know someone - someone nice - was nearby. It's just that - I hope you don't mind if I cry a lot."

Louis's place was nice; a large, upscale apartment on the Upper East Side. He had three actual bedrooms, a big lounge, a good-sized kitchen with a refrigerator and

two

bathrooms. You could have fitted my skuzzy little place into it two or three times. I'd packed an overnight bag, intending to sleep at the club, so Louis took it into one of the bedrooms. Then he came back and poured me a whiskey and soda.

"You'd better drink this, baby. It'll help you sleep. And if you need it, here's the rest of the bottle."

He hugged me, kissed me and escorted me into the guest bedroom, which was almost as big as my whole apartment. "The bathroom's next door. If you need anything, I'll be in my bedroom, right across the hall. Goodnight, Alice." He kissed and hugged me again, gently, then smiled and went into his room.

I couldn't sleep. I mean, I was dog-tired but it all came flooding back to me and I started crying again. I drank most of the whiskey, and despite that - or maybe because of it - I lay there until maybe four AM, and then...

I got up, crossed the hall and opened his bedroom door. He sat up immediately; in his line of business, I guess it paid to be a light sleeper.

"Er - Alice. Hey. Are you OK?"

"I'm so sorry, Louis, but I can't sleep. Could I - could you - can I get into bed with you and have you just hold me for a while?"

"Sure," he said and pulled back the covers. I slipped into the big bed beside him.

It was a surprise to realize that he slept naked, even though it was a warm night. I moved closer, and his big, strong arms wrapped around me. I snuggled into his chest. It was the first real comfort I'd felt since losing Benny. He leaned forward and kissed me.

"Alice, I don't know if this helps, but a couple of years ago, I was in love. Irene was working as a hooker for Mr. Walsh, and I'd had a couple of times with her while I was managing the girls. She was beautiful and smart and funny, and she really liked me. I wanted to marry her, and we got engaged. And then some asshole customer strangled her. I went to her room to get her to come down for the next John and I found her, dead. We figured out who it was and, let's say, we didn't involve the police. I unleashed all my anger on him; pieces of the guy were scattered in the East River. Some of them had been removed while he was still alive. But I felt devastated. I was a mess for weeks later. Mr. Walsh was very kind but, in the end, it was just getting back to work that helped me pull myself together again. So I know how you're feeling right now, and you can call on me any time."

"Oh, Louis, that's - that's so kind. I don't know what I'd do without you and Mr. Walsh. It's awful lonely, lying in bed on my own at night, just thinking about poor Benny."

He kissed me again. "Look, Alice, you can stay here with me until you're ready. I promise I won't take advantage of you. I can just hold you when you feel you need somebody."

I kissed him back. "Thanks, Louis. You're so good to me."

After a while, I turned around and he went to sleep, snuggled into my back with his arm over me. I lay there, still awake, for maybe another hour. I kept thinking of all the things I wished I'd done with Benny. We could've used the money I'd saved to take a vacation, somewhere nice. I could've shown him some more of the tricks I'd learned in bed. I could've - I could've...

I turned back to face Louis. My movement woke him.

"Louis? Louis, would you - would you please do something for me?"

"Sure, Alice. What do you want?"

"Would you - would you fuck me, please? I - I know it's - it's kinda weird, but - but I don't think I'm gonna sleep any other way. I just - I just have to do something - something..."

He kissed me again. This time it wasn't a soft, friendly, sympathetic kiss. This time it was hungrier, stronger, more forceful.

"Alice, I'd be delighted. But - are you sure?" Before I could answer, he kissed me again in the same way. If I'd had any doubts, they were gone.

"Louis, just - just take me. Fuck me, use me, just like you'd use one of your girls. I need to feel like someone has taken control of me. I don't want to think; I just want to feel. I need your body on me. I need your cock in me. I need to feel - I dunno - I just want my brains fucked out, so I don't have to think about Benny for a while."

Louis didn't reply. He just kissed me again while he unbuttoned my flimsy nightdress. His big hand slid inside and cupped my titty, squeezing and rubbing the nipple with his palm. His kisses went to my ear, to my neck, to my throat. I just lay back. My hand slid down the bed, between our bodies - and made contact with his dick. It was hot and hardening. He wasn't fully erect, but he wasn't soft either. Then his other hand slid underneath me, pulling up the hem of my nightdress, stroking up the back of my thigh, slipping into the back of my pussy. I was surprised that I was already wet.

You might think this was callous. My husband had been dead for just a few days and here I was, begging to get fucked by another man. But it seemed - well, like the only thing I could do to distract myself from my misery. I had to switch my brain off and focus simply on my body. I almost didn't mind if I came or not - I needed to be just a

physical

creature. No thoughts, no emotions - not even a whole woman. I wanted to be nothing more than a pussy, a cunt getting filled with a cock - preferably a big one - with a strong man lying on top of me, holding me down, thrusting into me for

his

pleasure, making my body

his

, owning me.

See, mixed in with the grief about losing Benny was the guilt I felt that I'd let other guys fuck me - especially up the ass - and have me suck their dicks, while I was married to a man I thought I loved but for whom I'd barely started doing any of those things. It made me feel dirty, no better than a whore; just a hole, or a set of holes, to be filled for a price. I needed to feel punished, for betraying my husband, for enjoying sex with other men when he'd barely started enjoying me. My penance was to spread my legs and get used.

There was a slight tussle as Louis released my titty and my pussy, pulled my nightdress off my shoulders, down over my feet, and threw it across the room. Then, to my surprise, he dived between my legs and started licking me like crazy. The sensations were kinda intense. I would normally have wanted him to take it slow and work up to licking my clit, but this seemed right under the circumstances. Except - except this wasn't what I'd been expecting.

"Louis, please! Please - just fuck me. Now, please!" I begged.

"When I'm ready," he replied from between my legs. And he kept on licking, now sticking a finger up my cunt and teasing that special spot inside. I started to lose myself. The sensations were strong, wild. Despite everything, he was getting me excited. This wasn't what was meant to happen. He was supposed to fuck me, hard - hard, until it hurt. I wanted to be made to suffer for my slutty behavior, for my - OH MY GOD!

I started to come when he slid a finger up my ass. I kept coming while he licked my clit and wiggled his fingers inside both holes. Then he slid his tongue up my body, grabbed a nipple with his lips, pulled his fingers out of my holes... And then...

Suddenly he was on top of me. I could feel his cock, brushing against my pussy. I remembered how it had felt last time he'd fucked me - though then I was a little distracted by having Mr. Walsh's dick up my ass at the same time.

"Is this really what you want, Alice," he said softly.

"Yes. Yes. Just - just fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make it - make it hurt."

He smiled, covered my mouth with his - and thrust.

Louis is a big guy - in every respect. His cock was the largest I'd ever had - long and thick. I was very wet, and he wasn't brutal - not as much as I'd asked him to be - but having something that big forced up inside you can take your breath away. It did mine. I spread my legs as wide as they'd go, but I could feel that big cock, stretching me. Was it painful? Well no, but it felt weird - and strangely sexy - having that huge dick pushed up my little cunt.

It wasn't just the thickest cock I'd ever had inside me, it was also the longest. I mean, Tom had an impressive dick, but Louis's one was even bigger. The stretch was quite something, but he kept sliding in and sliding in until - WOW - he hit bottom. Louis was the only guy who'd ever done that, and I think I screamed at the new and very weird sensation of having the very limit of my cunt pressed on by a thick cock. Then he pulled back about halfway and shoved it in, hard. He hit that spot again and I shrieked, but the sound went into his mouth as he kissed me passionately.

After that, I guess I got what I was asking for. I was totally and completely fucked. Louis settled into a rhythm, pulling way back and shoving it back in hard, each time finding and pounding the very limits of my hole. His muscular body was on top of me, I was spread open, almost doing the splits and I could feel the power of each thrust as he hammered away. He was so big, and all I could feel was the sensation of my cunt getting over-filled and stretched in every direction. Nothing else seemed to matter - just that wet hole getting almost more dick than it could take.

But the weird thing was that it didn't really hurt. Shit, I mean, I

wanted

it to hurt. I wanted to feel like I was being punished for my sluttiness, for being unfaithful to my husband. But it felt - it felt amazing and sexy. Sure, it was kinda like I was being used, like my cunt was just his plaything, a tight, wet sleeve for his cock, for his pleasure. But - but to be honest, it felt

good

, especially when he hit that strange new area at the top. The friction on my cunt walls was strong and sexy. I needed this. I really, really needed to be fucked like this, so hard, so animal.

Louis had broken the kiss and was looking down at me, into my eyes.

"Is this - what you wanted - Alice?" he sounded breathless.

"Yes! Yes! Use me like a whore! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Oh YES!" I moaned.

He grunted and then, if it was possible, started fucking me even harder. He shifted position a little so he could pull back further on each stroke. On a couple of occasions, his cock slipped out of me and it kinda hurt a little when he tried to shove it back in and missed the hole. But when he was sliding all of his thick length up inside me, so deep that it was almost pushing me up the bed, it was just amazing.