Ham On Rye - Charles Bukowski [43]
“Well, Lilly wants it. She claims she can handle it.”
“You’ll rip her to pieces.”
“Yeah, I will. Anyhow, she wants it.”
We put the garbage can down and stared at some girls who were sitting on a bench. Pete walked toward the bench. I stood there. He walked up to one of the girls and whispered something in her ear. She started giggling. Pete walked back to the garbage can. We picked it up and walked away.
“So,” said Pete, “this afternoon at 4 p.m. I’m going to rip Lilly to pieces.”
“Yeah?”
“You know that broken-down car at the back of the school that Pop Farnsworth took the engine out of?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, before they haul that son-of-a-bitch away, that’s going to be my bedroom. I’m going to take her in the back seat.”
“Some guys really live.”
“I’m getting a hard just thinking about it,” said Pete.
“I am too and I’m not even the guy who’s going to do it.”
“There’s one problem though,” said Pete.
“You can’t come?”
“No, it’s not that. I need a look-out. I need somebody to tell me the coast is clear.”
“Yeah? Well, look, I can do that.”
“Would you?” asked Pete.
“Sure. But we should have one more guy so we can watch in both directions.”
“All right. Who you got in mind?”
“Baldy.”
“Baldy? Shit, he’s not much.”
“No, but he’s trustworthy.”
“All right. So I’ll see you guys at four.”
“We’ll be there.”
At four p.m. we met Pete and Lilly at the car.
“Hi!” said Lilly. She looked hot. Pete was smoking a cigarette. He looked bored.
“Hello, Lilly,” I said.
“Hi, Lilly baby,” said Baldy.
There were some guys playing a game of touch football in the other field but that only made it better, a kind of camouflage. Lilly was wiggling around, breathing heavily, her breasts were moving up and down.
“Well,” said Pete, throwing his cigarette away, “let’s make friends, Lilly.”
He opened the back door, bowed, and Lilly climbed in. Pete got in after her and took his shoes off, then his pants and his shorts. Lilly looked down and saw Pete’s meat hanging.
“Oh my,” she said, “I don’t know…”
“Come on, baby,” said Pete, “nobody lives forever.”
“Well, all right, I guess…”
Pete looked out the window. “Hey, are you guys watching to see if the coast is clear?”
“Yeah, Pete,” I said, “we’re watching.”
“We’re looking,” said Baldy.
Pete pulled Lilly’s skirt all the way up. There was white flesh above her knee socks and you could see her panties. Glorious.
Pete grabbed Lilly and kissed her. Then he pulled away.
“You whore!” he said.
“Talk to me nice, Pete!”
“You bitch-whore!” he said and slapped her across the face, hard.
She began sobbing. “Don’t, Pete, don’t…”
“Shut up, cunt!”
Pete began pulling at Lilly’s panties. He was having a terrible time. Her panties were tight around her big ass. Pete gave a violent tug, they ripped and he pulled the panties down around her legs and off over her shoes. He threw them on the floorboard. Then he began playing with her cunt. He played with her cunt and played with her cunt and kissed her again and again. Then he leaned back against the car seat. He only had half a hard.
Lilly looked down at him.
“What are you, a queer?”
“No, it’s not that, Lilly. It’s just that I don’t think these guys are watching to see if the coast is clear. They’re watching us. I don’t want to get caught in here.”
“The coast is clear, Pete,” I said. “We’re watching!”
“We’re watching!” said Baldy.
“I don’t believe them,” said Pete. “All they’re watching is your cunt, Lilly.”
“You’re chicken! All that meat and it’s only at half-mast!”
“I’m scared of getting caught, Lilly.”
“I know what to do,” she said.
Lilly bent over and ran her tongue along Pete’s cock. She lapped her tongue around the monstrous head. Then she had it in her mouth.
“Lilly…Christ,” said Pete, “I love you…”
“Lilly, Lilly, Lilly…oh, oh, oooh ooooh…”
“Henry!” Baldy screamed. “LOOK!”
I looked. It was Wagner running toward us from across the field and also coming behind him were the guys who had been playing touch football, plus some of the people who had been watching the football game, boys and girls both.
“Pete!” I yelled,