Ears, blind as a bat was in his mid-twenties, and though Smith, stone deaf, was pushing into his fifties should have looked old enough to be his father, the difference in their ages wasn’t apparent primarily because Smith was remarkably lean and agile for his age.
Smith did not believe in trying to look young. He had this tendency of not putting on weight despite of a healthy appetite, and save for a streak of gray that tinged his rather long hair falling over his collar at the back and his forehead at the front, covering up almost all of his ears (he did not have any use of them), he looked like he was Ears’ elder brother even if the difference in their ages should have had marked him as being a father instead.
They had first come across each other at a crowded bar room in the outskirts of the nasty town during a night when the truckers and the elite were crowding and the whores were at a premium.
Ears had just heard that there was a lone whore available for the night: the rest already booked and Smith had seen the whore from across the table where he was seated, sipping his whiskey.
Inevitably, it led to a showdown between the two. An elite would have made a bid and a compatriot in his class would have bid higher to get the whore.
Smith and Ears were not elite. And not being elite gave them the opportunity of having a free-for-all right in the middle of the bar room.
Deaf Smith: a man who couldn’t hear a pin drop millimeters from his ears.
Johnny Ears: a man who couldn’t see a pin at the same distance.
All those who witnessed the fight agreed on one thing. It was a remarkable fight between a cunning blind boy and a cunning deaf man.
At the end of it all, neither man lost and neither man won. Instead, the two became a legend by themselves when they shook hands, a couple of yards away from the frightened whore who had watched the fight.
Deaf Smith and Johnny Ears.
Smith became Ears’ eyes and Ears became Smith’s ears. And together, the duo soon became the talk of the town. Their friendship saw them moving into an apartment after abandoning their previous ones.
And as they had done that night by sharing the wide-eyed busty little whore who had been engrossed with the fight, they continued to share everything in their lives.
******
Silent Sara was eighteen when she decided to run away from what her parents preferred to call a house. Sara figured that if some walls and a roof at the top constituted a house, she was sick of them.
Too, she was sick of the constant bickering between her parents. Her dad was a foreman at the steel factory in the town and her mom was a receptionist at the only decent hotel that the town boasted of.
Silent Sara was dumb.
Sara, who people said had the looks of Audrey Hepburn and the body of Marilyn Monroe. Dumb Sara who couldn’t speak a word beyond hmmm and aahhhh and ooohh and such. Sara, who used these very words, to lose her virginity to the new English teacher who was old enough to be her father.
Her parents pleaded with her and even threatened her with dire consequences if she did not return home, as they had done to her elder brother who had ran away a couple of years earlier. But, she was a clear-headed girl and adamant. She seduced a young cop who had enough authority to put the fear of God in her parents and that was that. Her parents never interfered with her life again.
By a strange quirk of fate, it was this very young cop who was responsible for the meeting between Sara and the duo of Deaf Smith and Johnny Ears.
The cop visited her small shack where she was putting up, to demand another favor by demanding one of her special blowjobs and when she refused, insisting that the matter was over and done with, the cop got tough.
Unfortunately for the cop, Smith and Ears were strolling down the alleyway where Sara’s shack was situated.
Sara was dumb, but she could scream.
She screamed so loudly that Ears, who was drinking whiskey straight from the bottle and a few hundred yards away with his pal, heard it like she was screaming right into his ears.
Smith, apart from the sign language that people of his ilk use, could make out sentences by reading lips. In fact, he was so good at it, that Ears had jokingly told him that he would be an asset to the secret service.
Deaf Smith and Johnny Ears almost ripped the young cop apart.
When the cop staggered out of the shack, he had one hand trying to keep his bleeding nose in place and the other holding on to a few of his teeth.
Sara had been dressed up in a one-piece flowered skirt with a pink petticoat inside. She was clutching the remains of her dress when she had watched the deadly duo demolish the cop.
And she was impressed.
She had heard of them. Who hadn’t? But this was the first time that she had seen them in action. Frantically gesturing them to be seated on the old couch she had bought from the flea market, she had stumbled to the small bedroom to get rid of the dress that was torn up.
“Nice girl?” Ears had asked his pal after getting the co-ordinates of the ramshackle apartment from Smith.
Every time that they stumbled into a new place, Smith would describe the surroundings. It was very much like Al Pacino getting his coordinates from Charles in ‘The Scent of A Woman’ before doing that memorable tango.
“Yeah,” Smith grunted. “Don’t use that sign language ‘cos I’m looking at your lips, buddy.”
“Okay, okay. Is she really good? I could smell her all right. Seems like a real sexy little girl.”
“Yeah. Nice. Real nice.”
“Give me her co-ordinates, will ya?”
“Around twenty. Five feet four and a hundred and twenty or thirty pounds. Light brown hair right down to her round and cute ass. Cleo’s nose, nice chin, brownish eyes shaped like almonds.”
“Forget the face, pal. Give me the base.”
“Square shoulders, wide ass, nice long and shapely legs and from what I could see, a hell of a rack.”
“Gee!”
“About size thirty eight, I’d guess and you know I don’t make mistakes when it comes to the tit department.”
Ears gave a short, low laugh. “You don’t have to tell me. I could smell her tits from here. So, what do you think?”
“You don’t even have to try. She’s putty. I figure about fifteen or twenty minutes before we are fucking her.”
“Great,” Ears said enthusiastically. “I am horny and would do with a fuck right now.”
“You just stay calm, okay, and let me do the talking.”
“Sure thing, pal. Just make sure that we are into the action real quick. I need to get off the juice in my balls soon, or I’d be right pissing it into my pants.”
Sara entered the room, now dressed in a blood-red knee-length skirt. Either she did not have another bra, or she intended to wear none, because Smith could see her ample tits straining against the low-necked blouse.
She indicated to Smith if they wanted a drink and Smith replied: “Sure, Sara. We could all do with a couple of drinks. Whatever you got, provided you join us.”
Before turning to get the drinks from the old cupboard, she indicated her thanks and Smith nodded.
“No problems, Sara. We all know what you been through with your parents and that goddamn cop; any time you want our help, we will be there.”
Sara had to bend low when she mixed the drinks and even though her skirt reached down to her knees, Smith could see the top of her creamy thighs and since she was facing a mirror, the reflection revealed the deep cleavage from within the blouse.
Smith immediately had a hard on. Leaning towards Ears, he whispered, “Man! Her legs are so long and smooth and like cream! If her skirt was a bit shorter, I could have described her ass too. And her tits! I tell you, they are real big, real firm and real good.”
The effect on Ears was spontaneous because he knew his pal never exaggerated. He rose gingerly and said, “If you don’t mind, Sara, I would like to take a little walk across the room with the help of my pal. Just to get my bearings, you see!”
Sara looked over her shoulders, smiled and shrugged.
“Hmmm. Hmmm.”
While she was done with mixing the drinks, Smith guided his pal across the room, describing what was where and how it was.
“See, you are now walking to the center of the room. Six feet from the couch and ten from the door. It’s six feet to the left wall and about seven to the right. This here is the TV and it’s of no use to you. It’s mounted on a three feet high desk and has a video and music system below. Here are the couple of chairs and this is the center table…”
Sara straightened and ran her hands over her skirt to smoothen it against her lush hips. She watched Smith leading his friend all over the room, describing every thing in it (not there was much) till finally, he led Ears straight towards her.
“This is the cupboard where Sara stocks the bottles.”
She smiled and indicated that she had only two bottles.
“These are the two bottles and these are the soda bottles.”
Ears was running his hands over every piece and thing that his friend was introducing to him.
“And,” Smith said finally, guiding his pal’s hands to Sara’s up-turned face, “this is the beautiful Sara.”
She blushed and felt a tingle run through her body when Ears ran his hands and fingers across her face. He traced a finger from the top of her forehead, down over her nose, the top of her upper lips, her lips and then down her chin.
“You are indeed beautiful, I can tell that,” Ears said enthusiastically, letting his fingers drop lower, brushing her tits and lower down across her washboard belly.
“Mmmmm…mmm…” she responded, batting her eyelids.
Smith cut in rather brusquely. “Lets all have the drinks and relax, okay?”
They agreed and soon, the duo was sipping the cheap whiskey, seated on the cheap couch while dumb Sara lowered her voluptuous body onto a chair opposite them.
As she sipped the whiskey, she gestured with her free hand.
“She’s telling us that she’s mighty glad to have the two of us here. That son-of-a-bitch cop would have otherwise raped her,” translated Smith to Ears.
“Raped?” queried Ears. “You mean, he’d have actually fucked you without you wanting to be fucked?”
