She patted the bed. "Come on. Lay down!" Cheery and efficient as a nurse.

Chubby stood up and undressed, sitting back down to pull off his pants. "What's your name, darlin'?"

"Tiny."

"Tiny, hah? You from Hong Kong?"

"California."

"California, hah? It's nice out there."

"Come on, big boy, lay down."

Chubby crawled across the bed and collapsed on his back. She sat by his side and took a foil-wrapped condom from her pocketbook. Then she stroked his fat, semihard cock gently but mechanically. Chubby lay with one hand behind his head and reached out to touch her nipples. He was having a tough time getting a hard-on. The pain in his lungs, the work he had to do to keep breathing, distracted him to the point of mortal fear. He didn't want sex. He wanted an iron lung. Tiny frowned at him. "What's the story?"

Chubby winked. Never say die. Finally he was hard enough for her to slip on the rubber.

"You want me to wear this?" She held up her hand displaying a wedding ring.

Chubby shrugged. "I'll tell you what, though, you into playin' make-believe? For the next twenny minutes your name's Sooky."

She nodded. "Sooky it is."

Chubby moved to get on top of her, but she stopped him. "I'll be on top, you're a pretty big guy."

Chubby laid her down on the clammy sheets and arched his body over her. "Never heard no complaints before."

She brought up her knees under his chest and guided him in. A band of pain encircled his chest and the room filled with the sound of his labored breath. She scratched her nose and looked off to the side. Chubby stopped moving and tried to gulp in air. He lost his hard-on.

"C'mon, baby, I don't got all day," she bitched.

Chubby fell off her and clutched his chest. "Can't breathe!"

She sat up in alarm. "You gettin' a heart attack? Don't get no heart attack on me!"

Chubby didn't answer, stroking his chest, rolling his head in pain.

"Shit!" She jumped up and quickly pulled on her dress. "Don't get no heart attack on me! I get all the fuckin' basket cases!" She ran from the room, slamming the door.

Chubby struggled to a sitting position on the edge of the bed, the rubber pinching the skin on his shriveled dick. He was too weak and dizzy to stand up.

The door exploded inward and two tall spades—one dressed in a yellow three-piece suit with a matching gangster lean, the other in a red and black two-piece with alligator platforms—ran in followed by Tiny.

"Oh shit! He a big mothafucka!"

The taller of the two men glared at Tiny, who cowered behind the door. "He pay you?"

She nodded yes. They hoisted Chubby by the armpits.

"Pull on his fuckin' pants!"

The one in the red and black suit grunted from the strain of Chubby's weight. Tiny slipped Chubby's pants over his condomed dick and buckled his belt. They let him drop on the bed.