ld man at a burleycue.

I left the elevator at the Fourth and walked up the stairs by reflex,
while my mind was positively radiating waves of vulgarity.

My mind managed to identify her as "The girl on the bed" without thinking
any name. She was a good looking strawberry blonde with a slender waist
and a high bosom and long, slender legs. She was wearing a pair of Dornier
shoes with three inch heels that did things to her ankles. Her nylons were
size eight and one half, medium length, in that dark shade that always
gives me ideas. Her dress was a simple thing that did not have a store
label on it, and so I dug the stitches for a bit and decided that it had
been hand made. Someone was a fine dress-maker because it fitted her
slender body perfectly. Her petticoat was store type. It was simple and
fitted, too, but it had a label from Forresters in the hem. Her bra was a
Graceform, size thirty two, medium cup, but the girl on the bed did not
have much need for molding, shaping, uplifting, padding or pretense. She
was all her and she filled it right to the brim. I let my perception
dawdle on the slender ankles, the lissome waist, and the rounded hips.

My door key came out by habit-reflex and entered the keyhole while my
sense of perception let them have one last vicarious thrill. The girl on
the bed was an honest allover strawberry blonde. She....

Then the door swung open and hell went out for breakfast.

My forty-five bellowed at the light as I slid in and sloped to one side.
The room went dark as I dropped to the floor in front of my bookcase. From
across the room a hitburner seared the door and slashed sidewise, cutting
a smoking swathe across my encyclopedia from A-AUD to CAN-DAN and then
came down as I squirmed aside. It took King Lear right out of Shakespeare
before the beam winked out. It went off just in time to keep me from
sporting a cooked stripe down my face.

I triggered the automatic again to make a flash in their faces while I dug
the room to locate them in the dark. The needle beam flared out again and
drilled a hole in the bookcase behind me. The other guy made a slashing
motion with his beam to pin me down, but he made a mistake by standing up
to do it.

I put a slug in his middle that slammed him back against the wall. He hung
there for a moment before he fell to the floor with a dull, limp sound.
His needle beam slashed upward and burned the ceiling before his hand went
limp and let the weapon