Jazz Age Ch. 06

It didn't take long. It never took long when he had the broomstick in there. A guttural sound came out of his throat as he squirted his juices on the carpet under his belly.

Helen squealed as she watched it. "He's ruining your carpet, Irma."

"Don't worry, he'll clean it up."

Irma was right, of course. After the broomstick was pulled out of George's bowels, Irma made George get the rag from the kitchen sink to wipe the carpet clean. George was exhausted as he did it, and when the carpet looked clean enough he stretched out on his back beside the wet spot to rest a bit.

The women talked again as George lay there with his eyes closed. He wanted to run away from them now. His instinct was to flee the madness, get out of the room, out of the building, hail a cab in the street and hurry to the safety of his family and his Park Avenue apartment. But he felt like this at the end of every visit to Irma and he knew it would pass.

Later, when it was time for George to leave, the two women watched him dress while they sat naked on the sofa with their arms around each other. Then Irma rose and she escorted George to the front door of the apartment.

"Back next week, George?"

"Yes," George said.

After she kissed his cheek, he walked out of the apartment wondering if he ought to look for a taxi in Madison Square or on Sixth Avenue. Sometimes it was easier in Madison Square and sometimes on Sixth Avenue. He was never certain which direction to go when he left Irma's place, and so this evening he did the usual thing and he tossed a coin.

--End of Chapter 6--