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Chapter 1
That's the most unspeakably vulgar thing ... I've ever heard!" Joan
Wright said, blushing, as she turned her head in embarrassment, not
daring to look up into the arrogant eyes of the man who stood relaxed
and at ease beside the partly demolished fuselage of the wrecked plane.
"What's the matter, Mrs. Wright ... haven't you ever been propositioned
before?" he asked, his eyes, crinkling at the corners into deep crow's
feet, his disarming smile revealing straight, white and even teeth
contrasting with the deep tan of his lean, good-looking face.
"Under the circumstances ... I-I hardly expected ... something like
this ... Mr. Henson!" she faltered.
"Call me Buzz!"
"No, thank you, Mr. Henson ... We're going to remain just as we were!
There'll be no ... personal relationships!"
"Think it over ... Joan ..." he began, but her flashing, angry eyes
stopped him.
She snapped, "Mrs. Wright ... to you!"
"Mrs. Wright ..." he mocked. "You're not in a very good position to
bargain!"
"Why should I have to bargain ... with you?"
"Very simple ... I've got something you want ... and ..." he leered,
looking up and down her trim sensuous figure. "You've got something ...
I want!"
"The answer, Mr. Henson ... is a definite no!"
His slow, confident smile was maddening to her; she turned away from
him, her eyes misting with disappointment she would never allow him to
see, and walked the ten yards or so across the small natural clearing
to the rude shelter where her husband lay on his sleeping bag. She
stopped in front of the lean-to and for the thousandth time scanned the
bright, blue sky, shading her eyes against the glare, hoping and
praying that this time a search plane would flit into view; likewise
her ears strained for the sound of an airplane engine. There was
nothing in the sky except dipping, caroling birds and flitting insects.
The wind, sighing through the upper branches of the forest seemed
extraordinarily loud in her ears as her now more than sensitive ears
caught heretofore unnoticed sounds of the wilderness. The creaking of
branches, the chatter of squirrels, the buzz of insect wings and the
gurgling sounds of water over the rocks in the stream bed that clove
through the small glade.
Under other circumstances, it would have been an idyllic paradise, far
from the cares and pressures of everyday city life, and she would have
been tempted to stay, make it her own retreat, a Shangri-La where a
person could live a simple life of peace and contemplation. The
circumstances, however, made it, for her less than a paradise, lower
than a heaven on earth; actually, more like a hell on earth ... ever
since their plane had hurtled through the tree tops to crash in
grinding, metal-tortured horror in this northern wilderness. With a
conscious act of will she blotted out the details of the plane's
terrifying descent and subsequent violent crunch to earth in this
isolated and God-forsaken spot. The memory of those moments were too
vivid, too laden with fear and terror for her.
OOOooooh! God! We're going to crash! We'll all be killed! Not now, God!
Oh, Please ... not now ...!
Joan looked down at her husband, his bandage-swathed head lying on the
rough material of the sleeping bag a further reminder to her of those
awful moments. Jim had been sitting in the copilot's seat when the
plane had gone into the ground, flinging him forward, his head striking
hard against the instrument panel, knocking him unconscious and opening
a mean looking gash in his forehead. He had been unconscious for a day
and a half; since then he had had periods of consciousness, during
which he seemed to be lucid, lapsing after an hour or so into
incoherent mouthings followed by another siege of total blackout. His
moans of pain had prompted her to ask Buzz Henson, the pilot, whether
there were some kind of pain relieving tablets in the medicine
supplies. The innocent question had been distorted and turned back upon
her. She had fled.
"Sure, there are some codeine tablets in there ... why?"
He made no move to get them from the kit. Instead, he had lounged back,
easily, his hands in his pockets and a lewd smile played over his face.
"My husband ... is having quite a lot of pain ... and I'd like to give
him something ... to ease it ..."
"I'm sure you do ... Mrs. Wright ... What are they worth to you?" Buzz
asked.
"Well ... I didn't think I'd have to pay for them! Just a moment ...
I'll go get my purse ... and I'd pay whatever they'd be worth in a
regular drugstore ..."
"I'm not talking about money ... Joan!"
"Oh ...?"
She was surprised at his use of her first name; it became a little too
personal. He was a charter pilot, and, to her, it seemed he was
assuming too much, too soon. True, he was a handsome man of trim,
athletic build and proportions, standing almost six feet tall, with
blond, sun-streaked hair and ice-blue eyes.
"Out here," he said, looking, pointedly, around at the crash site with
an air of complete confidence, "out here ... no amount of money could
buy those pain pills! I'm the captain in charge and they might be
needed for something more serious later."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Henson ... I just don't ... seem to follow you ... at
all ..."
"Look, Joan ... you're a big girl, now ... a married woman ... and you
surely know all about the birds and bees ..." he said, sarcasm dripping
from his statement.
Joan's cheeks flamed with tardy understanding. She gasped, "You mean
...?"
"I mean ... if you want those codeine tablets bad enough ... you'll be
willing to pay for them with the only negotiable currency you've got
...!"
"That's inhuman ...! You'd be denying another person ... something he
needs ...!" she argued.
"Correction! I'm being very human! I need something, too ... and it's
spelled S*E*X*! In other words I want to fuck you!"
The word hung vibrant in the air between them, and Joan had broken off
the conversation with the pilot to return to the shelter where her
husband lay.
Buzz Henson watched her walk away from him, her haughty shoulders
squared, indignantly, head held high. He noted how well her full,
rounded buttocks filled the bright yellow shorts she wore, her thighs
tapering, parabolically, down to dainty knees that linked to finely
curved calves and trim ankles. The blouse had left nothing to the
imagination, its sheer cloth revealing ample, up-thrusting breasts held
up by a skimpy bra that threatened to release the burden of her full
white fleshy bounty at the slightest provocation.
She'll be back! I'd bet on it! Damn! What a woman!
Joan sat down, tiredly, dejectedly, beside her husband. She refused to
allow herself the luxury of tears; their present predicament was too
desperate. They had crashed in rugged mountain country somewhere south
and east of Havre, Montana. Buzz had guessed, after studying his maps
carefully, that they had gone down in the Lion's Paw Mountains.
"It's probably called Lion's Paw because of the general shape ... but
we're one hell of a long ways from any civilization ... for sure!" Buzz
had said, impressing them with the seriousness of their position.
Andy Sloan had added, mildly, "We're fortunate it's late summer ...
instead of winter time ..."
"Who in hell would want to come up here during the winter?" Buzz
challenged.
The older man had looked away and mumbled vaguely, "I suppose ... there
are ... some people ..."
He had avoided the clash of will and of personality with the young,
daredevil pilot; after a while, he had arisen and walked down across
the little meadow to the stream.
Jim moaned and opened his eyes. He focused on Joan sitting beside him,
his hand going out toward her. She turned toward him, happily, as his
hand touched her back.
"Oh, Jim! You're awake ... again! How do you feel, Darling?"
"Lousy!"
"Is your head still hurting as bad as it was ...?"
"Worse ...! It keeps pounding away ... like it's going to tear my ears
off!" he complained.
Joan looked at his drawn face, his eyes haggard and burning in his
ashen face. She knew that he suffered, and that a measure of relief, in
the form of pain-relieving pills was available a few paces away.
Dear God! I'm faced with a dilemma that's almost unsolvable! And ... I
don't know what way to turn ... It's tearing me up ... inside, to see
Jimmy in such pain ... I feel like I have to do something to help him
... give him some relief ... But, Buzz controls the medicines ... and
food ... and everything! He's made clear what he wants ... Me! He wants
to m-make l-love ... to me ... in exchange for the codeine tablets!
He's putting it on a primitive barter basis! Oh, Dear Lord ... What am
I to do ...?
With a long, drawn-out groan, her husband's body shuddered and he
lapsed, again, into unconsciousness.
She leaned over him. "Jim! Oh, Jim? Oh, My God ... My Darling!" she
sobbed.
Her heart went out to him. She loved her husband with all of her heart
and soul; her whole life revolved around him. It had never occurred to
her before that she could ever lose him. Now, the morbid thought of
impending death ... her husband's death ... Jim, her Jim, hung over
her, paralyzing her with fear.
The words of the wedding vow knifed through her. Yes! God, Yes! She
would cling to him! He was hurt ... in pain! He needed her, now, in his
time of suffering! All she had been able to do for him, up to this
point, was make him comfortable, dress his wound and feed him. Now, she
had discovered she could do more; a drug was available to ease his
pain. In her frantic mind, the acquisition of the pain-reliever was of
foremost importance.
Jim! Oh, Jimmy! I love you so terribly much! I'd do anything for you!
But, the horrible bargain I'll have to make ... just to get those
pills! Ugh! Let another man ... make love to me ... violate my body ...
My body that's pledged only to my husband! And ... violate the wedding
vows ... break the commandment! Oh, Dear God! l need help! I can't make
a decision like this! It's too enormous ... too frightening ... to
think that I'd be forced to break the laws of man ... and God! I can't
do it ... I just can't do it! Everything's out of balance!
Suddenly, Jim began to mumble. "God! Look out! Going in ...! Hang on!
Joan! Joan! Jooaan!" Then, a horrible groan escaped his lips, the sound
of it stabbed like a searing spike being driven into her brain.
Dear God! Would I be guilty ... of a greater sin ... if I let him
suffer ... and did nothing to help? It would be inhuman ... barbaric!
I'm still a human being who cares ... who loves deeply! I've always
heard ... there are some things that money can't buy! Buzz said I had
only one negotiable currency ... my body! Out here ... in this
wilderness ... values are changed ... different, but my love for Jimmy
hasn't changed! In this insane, distorted value system ... of barter
... that Buzz insists we follow ... I don't have much choice ... No
choice in fact! I can do nothing ... and let Jim suffer ... or I can
give in to Buzz ... and get the pills ... to help relieve has pain!
It's as simple as that! ... And, all I've been taught about morality
has to be thrown out the window! Oh, I'm so confused! What can I do
...? Oh, God ... what shall I do? I need help! Help me now ... please
... Oh, please ...
Thinking she must do something ... anything, she rose, went to the
cooking area, selected a small aluminum pan and walked down to the
gurgling little stream of ice-cold water; at least, she told herself,
she could bathe Jim's face with the cold water, hoping that what little
comfort it afforded would ease him, perhaps help to lower his
temperature.
Buzz Henson watched her; he knew that she was troubled, the burden of
his unorthodox bargain weighing heavily upon her. He wanted a drink
from the stream, anyway, so he walked to where she knelt filling the
pan with the crystal clear water.
He stood behind her, his eyes raking her luscious body, hungrily,
noting the milky-white skin revealed between the waistband of her
shorts and the square cut tail of her blouse, the vertebrae marching up
her back, higher, the ridges of her ribs curving softly and, below, the
nipping curve of her waist flaring into the provocative curve of her
hips; her globoid buttocks wagged in the air back at him, as she dipped
the water then sat back on her heels. He had a sudden vision of those
same buttocks, bare, shoving back at him as his hardened maleness
plunged into the coral moistness of her widespread pussy. God! His
penis jerked erect, throbbingly, reminding him how long it had been
since he'd had a good, satisfying sexual encounter. Damn! She's
absolutely beautiful! I don't know when I've wanted any woman more than
I want her ... right now!
Joan was aware, now, that he stood there, behind her. She had to remain
calm, cool ... distant; this man must not be allowed to get inside her
defenses. Getting to her feet, she turned and faced him. His arrogant
blue eyes smiled lewdly down into her own green-hued orbs. The
revulsion in her as she saw his lust, caused her to step around him
without a word. He caught her elbow and swung her back to face him.
"Not so fast ... Joan! We have some unfinished business!"
"No! No ... we don't, Mr. Henson! There's nothing for us ... to
discuss!" she flared.
Buzz lounged back, relaxed, his tone conversational as he gave her
directions.
"Up on top of that little ridge ... to the north, there's a big oak
tree ... and a beautiful view ... After lunch ... say about one-thirty
... I'm going to be there, by that big oak! If you change your mind ...
come up and join me there! All you have to do is follow the stream up
about two hundred yards where there's a little waterfall ... then up
the east slope. It's not hard to find ... if you want to ..."
"If you'll be so kind as to release me ... I'll go back and ... attend
to the needs of my husband!"
"You're a stuck-up little bitch ... aren't you? Is that the Vassar
treatment you're giving me ... Or is it Bryn Mawr ...?"
"You're vulgar ... and insulting!" Joan snapped.
"I'm real ... real and realistic! I don't need that veneer of good
manners to get what I want!"
"Perhaps so, Mr. Henson ... but those schools don't have an exclusive
on those things! I went to an equally good school in the Mid-West ...
One you wouldn't recognize, if I told you the name. If you'll excuse me
... please?"
The tall, tanned pilot grinned at her and released his grasp on her
elbow.
"I'll be waiting!" he said with supreme confidence.
Joan stepped around him and made her way back to the shelter. Jim was
still unconscious; however, as she began to bathe his face in the icy
water, he opened his eyes and looked at her, pain grimaced and
contorted his face. He groaned.
"Oh, my poor Darling!" she soothed, leaning down to kiss him on the
lips. "I'm doing all I can to make it better!"
Even as she said it, she knew it was not true. There was one thing she
had not done! In that flashing instant she made her decision.
According to the plan of action outlined to them by Buzz Henson, soon
after the crash, it was her turn to prepare the noon meal beginning at
11:30. She went about her duties, using the food that Buzz rationed;
additionally, there was a fat squirrel Buzz had killed and dressed out.
He gave it to her with instructions to make a stew of it. She obeyed
him; his will had been imposed upon them all in matters of their
survival.
She reflected upon the fast pace of events. Before the crash Andrew
Sloan, Jim's immediate boss in the architectural firm of Sloan, Kitchen
and Wilson, had been in complete command of everything, having
organized their entire vacation trip and confidently arranging the
details of their entire existence from the time they had begun to get
ready for it. After the plane had crunched into the glade where they
were now trapped, Andy Sloan had seemed to come apart at the seams. His
orders were uncertain, his decisions unsound, and on the second day,
Buzz had quietly, confidently, asserted his authority over them,
deposing the older man from his position of leadership. Andy, when he
realized what had happened, that his role had been usurped, had
verbally castigated Buzz Henson, ranting and raving and making
ludicrous threats concerning the dire punishments facing Buzz for
getting them all into this damned mess. Buzz had listened, but brought
the monologue to an end when the older man began repeating himself.
"Mr. Sloan ... I realize you're a big wheel ... in your office, sitting
behind your desk, but we're in one hell of a serious situation! It
can't be solved by making a phone call ... or calling in an assistant.
Decisions have to be made here ... in terms of life or death. Now, I've
seen you make some pretty foolish judgments since yesterday ... and I
feel if we're going to get off this mountain alive ... it'll be up to
me to get us off, so from now on I'm the Head Honcho!"
Andy reacted; there was nothing left him now but action. He had to do
it ... to save what vestige of dignity was left him. His fist came
sizzling from right field, a roundhouse blow that telegraphed itself to
Buzz who stood alertly ready. The pilot side-stepped the furious attack
and countered with a quick left jab. Sloan slumped to the ground, his
eyes glazing, but he was not unconscious. He shook his head to clear
his vision.
"You bastard!" he spat, a small rivulet of blood coming from the corner
of his mouth. The architect rubbed his jaw.
The pilot stood over the fallen man. "Mr. Sloan ... I'm sorry I had to
do that ... but you gave me no other choice. Now, get this straight ...
We'll have only one person in charge! Me!"
Gayle Sloan had helped her husband to his feet and led him away,
unresisting, to the stream, where she had attended to the superficial
wound. They were gone a long time; Gayle talked, and Andy listened,
morosely. When they had returned, Andy, manfully, told Buzz that he
would now do whatever was required of him.
Buzz had organized the camp, taking charge of all food, medicine and
arms, directing the erection of shelters, the laying of signal fires,
setting up sky-watch schedules and detailing the work that must be done
to accomplish these things. Order had emerged from the general chaos
that had existed, and the morale of the group was noticeably improved.
The noon meal was soon prepared. Buzz ate, sparingly, silently,
remarked politely on the tastiness of the food, took a small bore
pistol and moved off up the stream to relieve the Sloans who were on
sky-watch at the top of the ridge. She watched him stride away, his
lithe, animalistic grace carrying him rapidly out of sight. Grudgingly,
she had to admit to herself that he was an attractive, virile man,
visceral in the extreme, confident of his ability and seemingly
unafraid of anything. She decided one word would describe him. Cocky!
In a few moments Andy and Gayle Sloan came down from the ridge to eat.
Joan greeted them and served them the simple fare. Gayle was bubbly and
talkative; Andy was glum.
"It was something really exciting, this morning," Gayle spouted, hardly
able to contain herself. "We heard some kind of large animal snorting
and moving around in the woods ... and then ... when we were coming
back down here we saw this big paw print ...! I told Andy it must be a
Grizzly Bear ... and ..."
Andy cut in, "You're just assuming it was a Grizzly ... I told you
before ... there aren't any in this part of the country!"
"Well ... I don't know for sure that it was a Grizzly Bear ... but that
was an awfully big paw print we saw!"
Joan shuddered. "Heavens! I hope you're wrong ... Gayle!"
"Of course she's wrong ...! All the Grizzlies are way south of here ...
down in the Yellowstone National Park area!"
Gayle withdrew from the verbal affray. She changed the subject to
speculation of how much longer it would be before they would be
rescued. Andy confronted her, again, on this subject.
"Our Hero isn't going to get us out of here! If we get out ... we'll
walk out ... just like I said at the beginning!"
"O.K.... so let's walk!" Gayle flung back. "... But what direction ...
and how far? I agree with Buzz ... We're better off sticking right here
with the plane!"
The older woman broke off the conversation by leaving the cooking fire
and going to their leanto shelter. Andy soon wandered off to gather
firewood, a small ax in his hand.
Joan cleaned the dishes and cooking utensils at the stream and returned
to Jim, carrying a bowl of soup and a cup of coffee. She found him
awake and lucid. Helping him to a sitting position, she oversaw his
meal and made him comfortable. He still seemed to experience a great
deal of pain, complaining of terrific pounding pains in his head. He
questioned her concerning the seriousness of their situation.
"What does Buzz think?" he asked.
"That we should stay here and wait for search planes."
"Andy ...?"
"He thinks we should try to walk out."
"Gayle?"
"She agrees with Buzz."
"... And, what do you think, Darling?"
"That we should stay here!" she asserted.
"Andy's off base ... I think we should stay, too!"
"I'm glad, Jimmy ... that you agree ... because you shouldn't be moved
... yet, you know."
"Yeah, I think you're right ... I'd slow the rest of you down!" he
reasoned.
Suddenly, Jim clutched at his head and emitted a deep groan. He laid
back on the sleeping bag, his eyes closed, as continuous moans came
from his lips. She was frantic.
"Oh, Jim! Jim, Darling!" she sobbed in her helplessness.
Oh, God! Please! Please? Help me take care of him!
He was soon asleep, or unconscious. She watched him, closely, for
several minutes. Knowing that she could do nothing more for him, she
crept from the shelter, making sure that her husband was comfortable
and walked to the stream to follow it up towards the ridge where Buzz
Henson waited for her.
Joan found the pilot stretched out on a blanket, lazily watching her
approach. She had not been on the ridge before; there was a truly
breathless view of the surrounding country. She looked around,
enthralled.
"It's simply beautiful ..." she said, gasping for breath from the steep
climb.
"Yes," he agreed. "It's nice ... but wild and rugged!"
"... And dangerous ...?" she queried. "Gayle said she saw a huge paw
print ... she seemed to think there might be Grizzly Bears around ..."
"I saw them, too! There's a possibility of it ... I heard they
sometimes remove dangerous bears from Yellowstone ... and release them
in remote areas ... like this," he explained.
"Oh! Heavens! I-I didn't really think ..." she stumbled, frightened,
now, suddenly.
"There's no need to worry ... most wild animals try to avoid humans!
They won't bother you ... if you leave them alone!" he assured her.
She sat down on a nearby fallen log. She didn't look at him; her gaze
was focused on the jumble of ridges, marching off into the north in
varying shades of blue, forested and rock-strewn ... a virgin
wilderness. The sound of a chopping ax came to them in the distance,
down below, beyond the small natural meadow where the ruined airplane
rested. She decided it had to be Andy making that sound. The ax-blows
stopped and the great silence beat in upon her. She had to explain
herself.
"Mr. Henson ... I-I didn't come up here ... t-to make a bargain ...! I
came to ask you ... in God's name ... to feel some compassion ...
sympathy ... for another human being ... and allow my husband to have
those codeine tablets. He needs them! ... And ... for God's sake ...
don't ask me ... t-to do something ... monstrous ... and immoral! I
just couldn't do it!"
"Why ... ?" he asked, quietly.
"I'm a married woman ... a-and I take my vows seriously."
"If we'd not crashed, and you were safe in the camp you were headed for
... would you have gone to bed with your husband's boss ... Mr. Andrew
Sloan?
"No!" she snapped. "That's preposterous ... unthinkable!"
"A couple of people must have thought of it! I gathered from a
conversation ... I-ah-overheard that Bigshot Andy had ideas along that
line ..."
"You must have heard wrong ... misconstrued something ..."
The pilot smiled. "My hearing's good ... and I put two and two together
real well!"
"Who was he talking to ...?"
"Your husband!" he gloated.
"Jimmy ...!?"
"None other!"
"Why ... that's insane! Impossible!" she blurted. "Why? Why would ...
m-my husband be a party to ... to something ... so ..."
She was overcome; she couldn't go on. Her tears scalded her eyes and
she turned her head away from him, remembering her vow that she would
not allow this man to bring down her defenses. Buzz raised himself to
an elbow and went on talking to the haughty, unbowed back she presented
him.
"Promotion ...? More money ...? ... A chance to lay Sloan's wife ...?
You know ... she's quite a woman, herself ..."
"No! No ... it couldn't be! He's already been offered a promotion ...
and a raise ...! And, Jimmy wouldn't do that ... to m-me! We're
married! We love each other! Why would h-he want another w-woman ...?"
"I don't know, I'm sure ... Maybe you can answer that yourself ... are
you good to him ... in bed ...? If you're not ... he might be looking
for something better ... more action, maybe. He's a man ... a normal
sort of guy ... I'd say. And, sex is pretty important to most men.
Think it over ...! Maybe, you'll find the answer in yourself!" Buzz
said with brutal frankness.
"You suggest a lot of answers ... f-for me ..." she said. "What about
you ...? What makes you do what y-you're doing ...? Forcing me t-to
bargain with you ... my body ... in exchange for pain pills m-my
husband desperately needs ...?"
"I told you before, Joan ... it's very simple ... I like sex! It's a
basic and very elemental drive ... and I want to fuck you ... because
you're a very beautiful ... and available woman!"
"Married ... or not ... ?" she queried, sarcastically, ignoring his use
of the lewd word.
"It really makes no difference!"
"And Gayle Sloan ...? Is she next on your list of conquests?"
"No ... you are! I've already laid her!"
"My God!" Joan flared. "What conceit! You're so damned arrogant!
Bragging about it! You're a regular satyr ... aren't you ...?" The
sarcasm dripped from her lips, caustically.
"No ... just honest! I was merely stating a fact!" the pilot said.
"You're so cocky ... you really do think that I'm going to be next ...
don't you?"
"The fact that you're here ... speaks pretty loud and clear ... to me!"
Buzz said.
Suddenly, Joan felt trapped! She had made a mistake in coming up on the
ridge to talk to Buzz Henson; he had not changed his mind. He still had
only one goal ... to force her to make love to him. Then, it came to
her; the realization that she was alone with him made her panic. He was
a strong man! It was possible that he could grab her ... force her
through sheer weight and superior muscle power ... to submit! He could
rape her!
Oh, My God! Please! Don't let it happen ... to me! I'd just die ... if
any other man ... touched me!
Blindly, she jumped to her feet and plunged into the heavily wooded
hillside, downwards toward the meadow, the stream, other people ... and
safety!
He caught her within ten yards. His arms were around her, holding her
tight to him until she ceased struggling futilely, and he kissed her
hard with brutal lips, his tongue bursting into her mouth to taste and
savor.
When he finally took his mouth away, she said, "P-Please ... d-don't
make me do it ?"
But, in spite of her revulsion and fear, her nipples tingled where they
had been pressed against his muscular chest; the hard, bulginess of his
loins still pressed into her, as he held her close, and she could feel
the throbbing heat of it through his pants. His kiss had been long and
sensuous, its warmth spreading in her nerve ends, singing a sybaritic
hymn of voluptuous promise. She relaxed and leaned her head against his
chest.
"It's only on the basis I suggested ... none other!" he said.
"... A-And you'll give m-me the pills ... for Jim ?"
"Of course! I always keep my word!"
"No one will ever know about it ... you won't tell ...?"
"Nobody will know ..." Buzz told her. "But you ... and me!"
"Why d-did you tell me ... about Gayle ...?" she probed.
"I was just needling you ..."
"What about Andy and Jim ... Is that true?"
"Every word of it!" he asserted.
She turned in his arms to face up the hill ... back up to the ridge,
closer to the sky and God ... where she would exchange her chastity for
pain pills for Jim, her husband ... her husband, who for whatever
reason, had bargained that same chastity away ... even before they had
begun their vacation trip!
"L-Let's go back ... up there!" she said, with finality.
The pilot put his arm around her waist and helped her up the steep
slope. They regained the ridge, quickly, and Joan went directly to the
spread blanket and sat down upon it, gasping for breath.
"Oh ... it's soft!" she observed.
"I put pine needles under it," Buzz said.
"Always prepared ... like a good Boy Scout ...?"
"I think positive!"
"You're impossible ... and too cocky!"
"I get results!" he countered.
Kneeling down on the blanket beside her, he reached for the top button
of her blouse and dexterously unbuttoned it. Involuntarily, she shrank
back away from him with a catch in her throat.
"N-No! Please ...? Not yet ...! Let me have a little time ... to get
used to the idea! No other man ... but J-Jim ... has ever touched me!"
Buzz pushed her firmly, gently back until she lay prone on the blanket.
He followed, lying on his side, but his upper body was twisted over
her, as he lowered his head to capture her lips, again. He probed her
mouth with his tongue, moving it in and out, then directing the tip to
the sensitive inner side of her lips.
Not realizing what she was doing, Joan began to kiss him back, her
tongue, tentatively, flicking out to touch his lips, finally snaking
out to insinuate itself between his teeth and into his mouth. Those
warm, tingling sensations were racing in her again, and instinctively
her body began to involuntarily react to his teasing touches.
His hands began to explore her, moving along her ribs to her waist,
down along the outside of her white tapering thigh, back up the inside
of her thigh, to the vee of her legs where he rubbed and massaged her
warm pulsating vaginal slit through the material of her shorts; then
his hand moved up, under her blouse, across her flat stomach to her
breasts that he kneaded through the material of her bra.
With urgent determination, now, he removed his hand from under her
blouse and unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and she shrugged and
moved, took and folded, sitting up to allow him access to the hooks of
her bra, again taking and folding meticulously, as the coolness of the
air flowed over the satin-smooth hemispheres of her milk-white breasts,
the coral tipped nipples standing out firm in their puckered areolas of
darker, deep-hued coraline. Instantly, Buzz captured a nipple in his
mouth, sucking up the entire aureole to tease and lave with his tongue,
while his hands smoothed over the globoid surface, massaging and
digging with his fingers, the smooth texture of them like fine silk
under his sensuous fingers; likewise, after a few moments its twin
received like attention, but now he nipped, lightly, with a chewing
motion, using his teeth, finally, to stretch and pull the nipple
outward, and side to side.
The sensations generated in her breasts spread warmly through her, the
electric, tingling sensations growing by the moment to race,
cavortingly, chasing each other in wave after wave of delicious,
melding sensuality. It was too much for her; she was giving herself to
this man for only one purpose. It had been clear in her mind a few
moments ago, but now the feelings were getting out of hand. She had
been thinking in terms of a quick, short sexual encounter ... one of
pure physical carnality that would not involve her emotions.
OOooh! l can't let this happen! Those feelings ... of his mouth on my
breasts! It's making me want to ... to go ahead and let him do what he
wants to with me ... but I didn't want to feel anything! God! What's
happening to me ...? Help me ... to get through this ... but don't let
me like it ... want it!
Joan emitted a moan of anguish, as his lips on her nipples formed a
tight circle, and he began to blow in and out, rhythmically, the erect
tissue of the pap moving in and out of his mouth, almost like a tiny
phallus. It was excruciatingly sensitive ... unbearably pleasurable;
suddenly, a bellows blew across the sparking passion within her,
igniting a flame of desire that she had never known, its searing
tendrils consuming her loins, and she became aware of warm moistness
between the inner, tightly closed petals of her cunt. She clamped her
legs together to deny the sensations to herself, but against her will,
her hips began to undulate, scribing minute circles under her, the
muscles of her pelvis pulsatory, moving to the ancient, race-remembered
beat of primitive man, and her heart drummed a loud tattoo of savage
accompaniment.
Throwing his top leg over her, he now lay partially on top of her as
his mouth paid homage to the magnificence of her ivory, blue-veined
breasts, the translucent skin aglow with tiny droplets of perspiration
and the first beginnings of a gentle reddening flush spreading with a
soft, effulgent luster over the satin film of her skin. He felt the
gentle movement in her loins, and he knew that it was time ... time now
to remove the proud little bitch's shorts and panties. He had waited
long for this; his cock throbbed with desire, pushing out against the
confining garments, the tight crotch of his jeans painful, allowing of
no room for the expanding hardness of his erection. God! He had to get
them off!
His hand reached for the zipper placket of her shorts; his fingers
unhooked the waistband, grasped the zipper tab and pulled it down over
the swell of her hip, the metallic whisper of it loud in that primeval
wilderness. Unconsciously she helped him, raising her hips, wriggling
and turning as he tugged them down over her thighs to her knees; then,
she struggled to sit up; he allowed her to do it, removing his mouth
from her breasts, reluctantly, and rolling to his back. He watched as
she plucked the shorts from around her ankles and folded them, adding
them to the neat pile of her other clothing.
Standing to his feet, he rapidly stripped off his own clothing, shirt
and undershirt dropping to the ground, kicking off his shoes,
unbuckling, unzipping, his jeans joined the growing pile and he stood
in only his jockey shorts, his pulsating erection standing out hard and
long under them. With a final smooth action, he stripped off the
shorts, liberating his hardened, thick length to her awe-stricken gaze.
Her involuntary gasp of surprise, the mixed-look of fear and wonder on
her face drew a grin and a chuckle from him. She looked up, startled,
at his face, then, tearing her eyes away from the manly spectacle
below. She had no idea that a man's penis could possibly attain those
proportions, and she was confused by his sadistic laugh. He knelt down
before her, placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her gently
back prone upon the blanket.
"You looked like you'd never seen a man's cock ... before!" Buzz
chuckled.
"Jimmy's ..." she said. "But ... that thing's a frightening monster!"
Joan began to have second thoughts. Maybe, her impulsive, somehow
revengeful actions were wrong ... terribly wrong!
My God! What am I doing? Am I about to let Buzz Henson make me an
adulteress? ... I don't know for sure ... that Jimmy ... and Mr. Sloan
had some kind of agreement between them ... a sort of pact ... allowing
Andy the freedom to ... to have sex with me! I can't really believe it!
After all, l-I only have Buzz' word on it! ... and I almost fell into
his trap ...! He knew I'd react ... maybe go off the deep end ... get
angry with Jimmy ... and do something hasty ... like agreeing to has
outrageous bargaining demands! God! What a fool I am! I almost fell for
it!
Now, she felt his hands sliding up the outside of her thighs, over the
full swell of her lips to the elastic waistband of her panties, and
with one smooth tug he had pulled them down to her knees exposing the
soft pubic hair of her genital mound; she felt the cool air rush over
her making her even more aware of her complete nudity, and the
nakedness of her loins before the eyes of this man, who was not her
husband, brought a flush of shame and humiliation to her cheeks.
Instinctively, she reached her hand down to retrieve the wisp of nylon
that had protected her chastity. Too late ... she felt them, now, down
over her calves, her ankles and clearing her feet; he tossed them
aside, carelessly. Quickly, she tried to get up, struggle to a sitting
position, and just as abruptly, she found herself pinned to the
blanket, unable to move under the great weight of his body.
"No! NO! I've changed ... my mind! I won't do it! I can't ... do it! I
can't ..." her desperate disavowal was cut off in her throat as his
mouth came down hard on her lips, his kiss brutally sweet and sensual.
He probed with his tongue, until her own involuntarily moved forward to
collide with his, finally bursting through to taste him, her tongue
moving tentatively, investigatively and finally demandingly within his
oral cavity. He sucked and nibbled on her agile lingual member, the
banked fires within her beginning to glow again as the bellows of her
passion blew steadily and inexorably to ignite a roaring furnace in her
loins, and she began to mewl and gurgle in her throat. Now, he sucked
her lower lip, nibbling on it gently with his teeth, the stimulant
nerves rocketing their sensitive, sensuous messages throughout her
rapidly, sexually aroused body.
Oh! I don't want this ...! I don't want it to happen! ... But I-I can't
seem to resist him! I should get up ... run! Do something ...! Do
anything ... before he makes me ... am dishonest woman ...! God! Oh,
God! I'm about to commit ... a sin ... become an adulteress ... or
worse! Please ... help me ... to resist ... fight this thing in me ...
that's making me want ... to do it ...!
Then, he was moving, slithering down her body, down, down, lower, until
his head was just above her pubic mound, his hands stretched out above
him, almost at arms length, and his fingers clutched and squeezed at
her full, erect breasts, massaging them, kneading them with such
ferocity that she began to whine in pain. His lips had trailed down
over her body, wetly, kissing her flat, white belly, his tongue dipping
into her navel, teasingly ... until his face brushed against the softly
curled hair of the triangle at the juncture of her thighs. Belatedly,
she realized his intentions; the thought of it evilly repugnant to her.
Dear Lord, No! I won't let him do that to me! Never!
Her gray-green eyes widened in horror, as she felt his hands leave her
breasts, sliding down over her flanks to her knees where his strong
hands lifted them up, until the tapering columns of her marble thighs
were vertical, her feet flat on the blanket; then, cruelly, he levered
her thighs apart, flaring them to expose the whole of her womanhood to
him, the pink furrow of her cunt flowering open, slightly, the bedewed,
coral inner petals glisteningly lubricious and the tight, vaginal
entrance showed the tender pinkness of its sensitive inner lining.
Above, nestled in its fleshy alcove, the tiny, throbbing clitoris
peeped out at him from the golden-haired fringe that ringed her pussy,
while below, the puckered, brownish nether portal of her anus stared,
unwinking, back at him.
With ineffectual strength she tried to protect herself, to close her
thighs against him ... against that horribly perverted thing he
intended to do to her.
"No! Oh, God, no! Buzz! Don't! Don't do that ... to me!"
... But, he had already placed his strong, lean hands against the milky
inner sides of her thighs and was spreading them far, far apart,
splaying them, painfully, as he kneeled up and rocked back on his
heels; her efforts to close them were redoubled, but his palms
continued their pressure until her thighs were almost flat against the
blanket. The pilot leered down at the naked femaleness, a look of pure
animal lust contorting his features.
"God! That's luscious! What a beautiful ... tight little cunt!" he
gloated.
"Please ...? Oh, please ... Buzz? Let me up ...! I just c-can't ... go
through with it ...! My husband ... has ... n-n ..."
"He's never used his tongue ... on you ...?"
"N-No! Never!"
"Why!" he probed.
"... Because ... I-I've never let him! It's dirty! Filthy!"
"You really think so ...?"
"Y-Yes ... It's perverted!" she moaned.
"You haven't really lived, yet ... you little bitch!" he chortled. "I'm
going to turn you on ... like you've never been before!"
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please ... let me up?!" she sobbed.
"No! You're committed, now! Besides I'm beyond the point-of-no-return!
I've got to get between those luscious legs of yours, baby ... and
pretty damned soon!"
There, between her legs, hands on her warm, soft thighs, still holding
her immobile, Buzz Henson, gazed down, hungrily, at the thin, slightly,
inflorescent pink slit, ringed, sparsely, delicately, with its soft
golden hair, and as she lay on her back seemingly rooted to the blanket
beneath her, her eyes pleading with him, her shame at her naked
exposure making her humiliation complete, she watched petrified with
horror as with deliberate, decisive movements, he placed his thumbs on
the soft, fleshy lips of her cunt and slowly drew them apart, laying
open her moist, ready, coraline flesh to his lust-inflamed gaze, his
eyes widening in anticipation of the sexual pleasure yet to come
"You know," he rasped. "I forgot to tell you ... I'm glad you're a true
blond!"
Joan only whimpered, audibly, as she raised her head to look down the
valley of her breasts to see the young pilot's lust contorted face
poised there between her wide-spread legs. She felt the hot vapor of
his breath graze her sensitive femaleness, that secret place that had
only been seen by her husband, and she moaned aloud in her shame, her
head still raised, her eyes begging him for mercy that she knew, now,
he would never give her.
Her breath choked in her throat as she heard his animalistic grunt and
saw his head drop, felt his lips on the warm, open mouth of her vagina
and the moist length of his tongue sliding hotly into her wet cuntal
passage, past the barrier of the vaginal muscle ring, on in to probe
the sensate flesh of the walls of her carnal vault.
Oh, my God! He's done it! ... And I can't stop him ...! I feel so
helpless! My body won't say no ... no matter what I think ... or say
... or do! I've never felt this way ... ever ... before!
Joan's beautiful body responded to him, automatically, now, the vile
mouth-rape of her, here-to-fore, covert femininity causing her to jerk
down and away from him with convulsive, twisting lurches of her pelvis,
a loud, helpless groan coming from deep in her chest as she ground her
buttocks ever farther downward in a frantic effort to escape the
bestial outrage. Her stomach churned with revulsion, and she wailed
with loathing as his tongue worked, slithering in and out of her pussy
with wild, animal-like fury.
"OOOOoooohhh! Oh, My God! Stop!" she moaned, helplessly, her deep shame
more than she could bear, her golden tresses flying as she shook her
head from side to side in negative signal to him ... a signal he
ignored. She kept her head raised, looking down between the full mounds
of her breasts to watch with horror this perverted abuse of her
helpless genitals.
Clenching her small hands into fists, her arms lying helplessly and
tight against her ribs, she fought him ... fought herself, as
unbelieving she tried desperately to keep her rational mind from
realizing or acknowledging that wild, blissful sensations coursed,
searingly, maddeningly through every fiber of her being. This couldn't
be happening to her!
Oh! His tongue is driving me wild! Those sensations are out of this
world! But, oooh God! I can't let it go on! It's wrong ... a sin ...
and it's sick, Sick ... SICK!
Pushed back in her mind, a memory struggled forth to plague her. How
many times had Jimmy asked her to let him do this very thing? She had
refused him, because of her conviction that it was a foul besmirchment,
a depravity that did not belong in the marital bed. God! Had she known
the sensual, voluptuousness of it ... would she have granted it to him
...?
Suddenly, his lips probed and explored until he located the erect,
pulsing miniature phallus enshrined in its fleshy canopy, above. She
mewled and whined in agonized pleasure as he took the tiny, pulsing,
erect clitoris between his teeth and holding it lightly his tongue
caressed it, running up and down its short length, then in circles
around it, until finally, he concentrated on the tip of it, the
sensations electric in her palpitant loins.
Now, he opened his mouth wider, his tongue moving downward, again, back
down to the silky smoothness of her moist, warmly sensate and throbbing
vaginal passage.
Uncontrollably, now, her head began to flail from side to side, and as
he mouth-fucked her, sliding his long, wet tongue up and down her
hungrily clasping cuntal passage, Buzz listened to new whimpers from
her signifying her new-found pleasure in the cunnilingus he performed
on her. Then he shifted and drew her legs up, sliding his arms under
them to wedge his shoulders and arms between her quivering thighs. His
hands, beneath her thighs, pushed them up further until they draped,
obscenely, over his shoulders and her buttocks were pulled up to him,
brutally, while his tongue continued to swirl and flick around the
velvet-lined interior of the soft hair-lined lips pulsing before his
eyes. He knew that soon he would conquer her, completely; she would be
his to do with as he chose. God! She was a luscious, innocent young
morsel!
Her cries of agony, of involuntary pleasure rang through the forested
wilderness, a cry of feral wildness, as he thrust his tongue deep into
the searing, viscid depths at the naked "Y" of her open legs.
Fascinated, he watched, as her hands fought desperately against
themselves, struggling against odds, until their hopeless battle lost,
she reached out jerkily for him, her fingers entangling, lewdly, in his
hair to pull him closer, tighter to her.
She was his! Damn! He had won! She was all his to play with, to
subjugate, to destroy ... to fuck ... however and whenever he chose to
do so. She was lost! Her flaunted chastity flown!
Joan knew, now, that her body had deserted her, completely; her nude
buttocks convulsed and jerked, involuntarily, beneath the ravishing
tongue that sent hopeless jolts of high-voltage eroticism surging
through her, sensations that she never knew existed and the exquisite
torture of it hummed with the intensity of high amplification in her
finely tuned nerves. Unexpectedly, she felt his tongue leave her vagina
and flick downward, wetly, to the secret tiny puckered anal opening,
below. Suddenly, she wanted to scream; instead she moaned out her
ecstatic rapture at the surprising, moistly warm contact of his probing
tongue, the forbidden pleasure-laden feelings roiling through her in
confused, racing chaos. She closed her eyes and licked her lips, her
tongue flicking in and out with the sensual pleasure that raced like
wild-fire through her.
Frenetically, she groaned, "Oh, God ... God! Please, don't do that! I
can't stand it ...! Oh, God ... you're driving me crazy!"
Even as she spoke, her hips moved, uncontrollably up to his face, and
she tried to screw her rectum onto his stiff, lashing tongue. With an
effort, he shoved harder, the very tip of his lingual member entering
her and moving slightly in her rear passage.
She opened her eyes, momentarily, to see that his eyes, visible to her,
above the softly curling mound of pubic hair were smiling ... even
laughing at her, and she lay back, her eyes tightly closed to blot out
the horror of it all.
"Oh, God! ... Oh, God!" she moaned, tossing her head from side to side,
her shame, humiliation and degradation surging to the surface of her
consciousness, again, fighting to gain ascendance over the erotic
sensations that had taken away all reason, leaving only raw, inflamed
nerves that cried out for release.
"Please ... Oh, please!" she whined, raising her head, eyes open, now,
to beg, pleadingly, down at his leering face. "Please, don't do this to
me!"
The horrifying knowledge that she had no control of her body
overwhelmed her, the impact of the realization bringing deep sobs of
shame from her, but he went on and on, licking at her wet, open pussy,
her body quivering uncontrollably, with the overpowering assault on the
raw nerve-endings of her palpitating and unsatiated cunt. She clenched
her teeth, grinding them, vexatiously, her determination that she must
resist to the very end waned rapidly before the spasmodic sensualism
that had taken control of her body. But, she knew, even then, as she
resisted with all her moral strength, that she had lost the battle,
that it was of no further use to resist. It was a spontaneous decision,
forced upon her, and reluctantly, she surrendered the field to him.
Suddenly, she no longer fought against him ... against herself, because
the intense, ecstatic rapture that his licking tongue brought her was a
voluptuous sensation that she had never known existed ... could exist.
Her love-hungry cunt had to be filled, now!
For too long, her soft, rounded body had cried out for fulfillment ...
too long she had denied Jimmy ... denied herself, not knowing the
capacity of the human body for erotic stimulation, foolishly, thinking
that their couplings had been the accomplishment of full sexuality. How
wrong ... Oh, God! ... How wrong she had been!
"Buzz! Buzz! OOOOooooh! Love me! Love me ... good!" she pleaded, her
now shamelessly aroused body squirming and undulating under his long,
wet lingual member. She raised herself up to him, wanting more and more
of it ... more of everything. She reached with both hands, grasping
either side of his head and pulled him in tight to her throbbing,
widespread cuntal furrow, as she cried out from deep in her soul,
begging for the thing she wanted most. Shame, degradation, morals,
pride, religion end even her injured husband were forgotten in the
insane, demanding throes of Sybaritic rapture.
The pilot could hardly contain his joy as he continued to lash his
agile tongue deep into the searing, cock-hungry passage of her vagina,
while she thrust the cusp of her crotch up at him in total submission
to his will. The soft, silky and golden hair ringing her pulsating cunt
teased his nose and tickled his cheeks as she slowly and against her
will began to undulate her buttocks in regular rhythm, and he held his
tongue rigid and allowed her to move on his tongue. He glanced up to
see that her face reflected the sensuality she felt; her eyes were
glazed and her jaw hung loose as she gave herself over to the rapturous
sexual joy.
He watched her and knew that it would not be long before she would be
completely beyond her point-of-no-return. Then, he intended to get the
fullest pleasure possible from her aroused and writhing young body. It
would only be a few moments before he shoved his aching, demanding
prick into her tight little cunt and fuck her like she had never been
fucked before, shooting his building load of hot semen up into the
depths of her quivering belly ... he would fuck her until she screamed
in ecstasy; it was almost time for her to learn what it was like to be
a fully sexual woman.
Joan's heart pounded beneath her breasts as she writhed and squirmed up
against the insane licking tongue of Buzz Henson. She thought she would
go crazy from the sheer erotic desires he was causing in her love-
starved loins, the agonized ecstasy of wanting and waiting were too
much. She couldn't wait any longer.
Oh, God! It's gone on and on ... and on! When will he ever stop? I-I
need his long ... hard ... penis in me ... to ... make it ... complete!
OOoooh! I'm burning up! I need it! I want it ... so much!
Eons of time had passed; It seemed to her, since he had begun his wild
sucking at the very core of her wet, sensitive and open slit. The
sensations tumbling through her were building to an explosive level. If
he didn't stop soon she would go out of her mind! Suddenly, he did
stop!
"Oh, God ... Buzz! Don't stop ... now!" she wailed in her uncontrolled
agony, "please don't stop!"
Chapter 2
Sensitive nose snuffing, huge grizzled body moving gracefully on silent
padded feet, ears and eyes attuned to everything that made a sound or
moved in the primeval forest, his home and natural habitat, the great
Grizzly Bear moved through his territory, the man-scent strong in his
nostrils, the hated odor rankling and irritating him. He was not
hungry, his carnivorous appetite was satiated; there was plenty of
small game in his forest, fish in the streams, berries growing on
bushes and honey dripping from not a few of the lightning-blazed hollow
trees. Now, the hated humans were in sight; he stood still and watched.
They seemed to be harmless, unaware of his presence and no present
danger to himself. Then, he smelled it! It was the gun-smell! He hated
and feared it! That odor spelled danger to him, and he lumbered about
turning to leave that place to the humans and their gun.
There was something else! The odor of it wafted through the air to him.
Another animal had entered his domain!
From the branch of a pine tree tawny eyes surveyed the ridge, nose
wrinkled above half-snarling lips as the great cat sorted out the
scents, the hated man-smell, the odor of his gun ... and stronger, the
smell of the giant he-bear. The mountain lion swished his tail,
angrily, and a low growl escaped him.
The Grizzly paused, snuffing and listening. He recognized the cat-
scent, heard the low, throaty growl of warning from the mountain lion
and uttered his own barely audible growl of irritation; then he moved
off into the underbrush until he came to a tall pine tree. Standing up
on his hind feet, the huge Grizzly Bear reached high up with his
forepaws, the lancet-sharp claws slashing into the rough bark nine feet
above the ground to leave his mark ... his territorial warning to the
mountain lion who had violated his domain. Dropping, now, to all four
feet, again, the Grizzly moved off down the slope toward the stream.
His stomach told him that it was time to catch a meal of speckled trout
from the stream, below.
* * *
The primitive drama was played and the man and woman on the blanket
were unaware of it. Their senses were not attuned to the affairs of the
forest. They were in that wilderness but were not a part of it. They
were truly alien beings in that place, in that time. Their
concentration was on each other and the feral, rutting sensations of
their senses.
"You're hot, now, Baby!" Buzz croaked. "Hot enough to fuck ... and
that's what I'm going to do! I'm going to fuck you so hard ... you'll
never forget it!"
Joan couldn't talk ... she couldn't move; her naked body was petrified
with fear, suddenly, as with her thighs raised and splayed wide open to
him, her breasts swollen and painful where his hands had dug cruelly
into them and as her breathing came in short, passionate, panting
gasps, her belly quivering and cringing, her eyes locked upon his long,
thick, lust-inflamed cock that jutted from his loins like a giant
cudgel, capable it seemed to her, on the instant, of inflicting
grievous wounds on her tender genital parts.
Dear Lord! It's so huge! I won't be able to take it ... inside of me!
"Oh, God, Buzz ... don't ..." Joan whimpered as he wedged his hips
between her legs, holding himself up slightly above her, supporting
himself on his lean, strong arms. "I-I can't ... take that monster ...
inside of me! It'll split me ... wide open!"
He ignored her plea; he dropped his head and sucked up a coral nipple
of her breast into his hungry mouth, his teeth nipping into it
painfully, as he bit hard enough to break the skin and the sweet taste
of her blood was strong on his tongue, then, he raised his head,
pulling the nipple grasped in his teeth, stretching it and causing her
to writhe in pain under him. She groaned aloud at the sharp twinge of
delicious pain, the fluttering agony of it mixed with her sexual desire
that caused simultaneously a spasm of masochistic sensual delight in
her undulating crotch that moved up, uncontrollably, to brush against
the hard, swollen head of his cock. The unexpected contact producing
racing thrills that beat wave upon wave of nerve-searing need into her
consciousness, and she moaned an animalistic, choking paean of urgent
need.
"Oh, shit ... am I going to fuck you ... Mrs. Wright," he hissed down
at her, lewdly. "When you get this cock of mine inside that tight
little cunt ... you'll be begging me to fuck you with it!
"N-Never!" she managed.
"We'll see!"
Cock! Cunt! Fuck! ... Oh, God! ... Why does he have to use those vulgar
... filthy, dirty words?
Joan lay, trembling, beneath him, as though she were struck immobile,
paralyzed, her eyes watching his mouth, fixedly, as he spouted the
obscene words at her, their vile, lewdness revulsing her, but, at the
same time, they arced with searing heat into her brain, exciting her,
filling her with their salacious meanings and she struggled,
desperately, to control his gradual subjugation of her mind. Already,
her body had betrayed her ... but she must not let him distort her mind
with his filthy talk. Love and sex were perverted when it was lowered
in this way ... ground into the dirt, as it were, by the use of these
forbidden, vulgarities.
Dear Lord ... help me! Help me ... to resist it! I can't ... I won't
let him ... drag me down ... brutalize me ... make me act like an
animal!
"All right ... Baby ... take my prick in your hot, little hand and put
it in that luscious pussy of yours!" he commanded, his lustful eyes
burning down into her own fear-filled face.
"Oh ... God, no ... Please! No! I-I can't ... I just can't ...!" she
groaned in her further humiliation, her body trembling in trepidation
and abject shame ... yet even as she spoke her disavowal, her hand,
unbidden, uncontrollably slid down across her belly, between them, to
pause only inches away from the rod of hardened male flesh, as she
began to shake her head from side to side, frantically, the hot tears,
again, streaming down her face, the battle between her senses, driving
her hedonistically and her brain, trying to steer her on a straight
course, raging in her contorted, indecisive facial expressions.
"Do it! God damn it!" he snarled down at her. "Take it in your hand and
put it in! Do it, now ... you little bitch!"
"OOOoooh, God ...!" she groaned, once more, as her tiny hand reached
across the remaining few inches that seemed to her a mighty gulf, the
simple reaching movement, the decision to make it as difficult, in her
mind, as the first step she took down the center aisle of her church on
the day that she became James Wright's bride. God! How could she
forget?
Jim! Oh, Jimmy! ... You'll understand ... won't you? Oh, God ...! Help
make him understand ... l don't want to do this!
Her fingers tried to encircle his mighty, throbbing shaft, and a great,
stabbing fear pierced her belly, as she truly realized for the first
time the true size of his monstrous, lust-inflated cock.
"What in hell are you waiting for ...? Put my cock in your fucking cunt
... quick, before I shoot all over your belly!" he rasped out at her.
Buzz lowered his hips toward her while Joan spread her thighs even
farther apart, as she guided his heavy, pulsing prick toward the
quavering, moist portal of her vagina, using the thick, bulbous head to
part the sparse blonde pubic hair and divide the full, fleshy lips of
her cunt, the fleshly contact galvanizing the sensitive nerves, her
body-mind in a whirl of both fear and wild anticipation.
She gasped aloud, her head flailing in uncontrolled agitation, a great
shudder passing through her body as the shiny, surprisingly soft and
resilient red-cowled head of his rock-hard cock pressed against the
wet, sensate flesh of her quivering cuntal slit, and she held her
breath, as she lay paralyzed with fear beneath him, the tears of her
shame flowing in scalding cascades down her cheeks; ... then, he moved
down on her, jerking his hips forward, slightly, that caused her a
sharp, splitting, tearing pain from the stretching pressure of his
engorged rod of flesh at the tight, little hole of her vagina.
"OOOOOooooooh!" she cried ... and he pushed again, the smooth, rubbery
head moving forward, the tip of it barely finding room in the tight,
resisting passage. "AAAAAaaaagggh!" she wailed, chokingly, as the huge
organ, blood-inflated and aching forced its way into the tight, elastic
opening, stretching it painfully, brutally, the resilient flesh
resisting yet allowing the entry, but Joan was sure that she was being
torn and ripped apart by the almost unbearable pressure that bore down
between her widespread legs.
"Buzz! Buuuuuzzzz! Oh, God... Buzz! You're ripping me ... in two ...!
My God ... I can't stand it ...! It hurts ... too much! Please ...?
Please ... no!" she screamed, but the lust, the savage animal lust on
his face, the look of pure, sadistic delight he was taking, as he
forced his giant cudgel into her resisting channel told her that she
would gain no quarter of mercy from him. It would be a waste of her
breath to plead with him, beg him to ease her torture.
"Dear God ... Oh, Dear God!" she shrilled as he pressed down upon her,
shoving his massive cock into her, inch by excruciating inch, until,
suddenly, she saw his expression change from lust to agonizing need, as
if he could no longer stand the waiting and watching game he played
with her helpless, debauched body. He glanced down between them to see
that little more than half his length was imbedded in the quivering
coral depths of her pussy, his stud-horse shaft straining at the tight,
elastic nether mouth at the cusp of her marble-like thighs. With all
the strength of his strong, young body, he thrust, forcefully, sending
his long, thick prick racing and plunging up, up, into her cringing,
palpitant passage with the feral, animal ferocity of a rutting
stallion.
"AAAAAaaaggh! God in Heaven!" Joan screamed as the thick, blood-
engorged head pressed the resisting coraline walls of her vaginal vault
in surging wavelets ahead of it, the great breadth and length of him
soaring heavily up into the deepest depths of her belly until she felt
his heavy, pendulant, sperm-loaded balls smack hard up against the
rounded, upturned cheeks of her trembling buttocks.
"Dear God ...!" she keened beneath him as she lay perfectly still, not
daring to move lest she be split wide open! His cock had stuffed her
cunt full ... fuller than it had ever been before and the walls of her
vagina felt as though they had been scraped raw from the brutal entry
of his massive, foraging prick. It lay in her like a log, every bit of
the hardened rod in contact with the moist sensitive tissue of her
cuntal passage, every wrinkle and ridge of his tumescent flesh
discernible to her as that giant man-cock lay sunken, deeply, up into
her churning loins.
His breath began to rasp in his throat as he lay heavy upon her,
momentarily; then he expanded his cock, flexing it deep inside the
tender flesh of her moist sheath, and moving it inward, deeper, another
fraction of an inch.
"OOh! AAAAaaaagggh!" Joan moaned and he repeated it, again and again,
each flexing, outward expansion against her vaginal passage eliciting
tearful groans of agony and shameful degradation from deep in her
throat; presently, however, slowly, she became aware that her passage
was beginning to adjust to the abnormal size of the hardened rod
imbedded there. Now, her whining, sniffling whimpers of pain decreased
as the man lying on her naked body began a slow, undulating, circular
motion of his pelvis, grinding his cock into her tight, naked cunt,
expanding the quivering fleshy walls of the channel until her whimpers
of pain became mewling trills of pleasure that she could not contain.
Slowly, Buzz hoisted himself up to full arm's length and looked down at
her, lewdly, anticipating in advance her reaction to his next move. His
ice-blue eyes penetrated to her very soul, the sadistic pleasure of
subjugating her to his will shining through them.
"You're ready to beg for it, now ... Joan! Beg ... Baby! Beg me to fuck
you!" he croaked.
Joan stared up at him in total surprise. She gasped, but her pelvis
already ground in little undulant circles under her, an involuntary
movement she couldn't control. Her passion-glazed eyes pleaded with him
for mercy ... for gentleness and restoration of her morale. She wanted
him, now, but not at the expense of further degrading shame and
humiliation.
"Please ... Buzz? Just ... love me ... now!
"Beg me for it, I said! God damn you, beg me to fuck you! Say it!"
"Oh, Buzz ... haven't you done enough to me ... already?" she groaned.
"I w-want you t-to do it to me ... please ...?"
"Beg! Bitch! Beg! I've got to hear you beg me to fuck you!" he roared.
The shame of it pounded in her ears. She had to say the vile words! She
had to have his pounding cock ... now! Now!
"Yesss! Oh, God, yes! ... I-I need it ... so bad! Fuck me! Fuck me ...
Buzz! Please ... fuck me?" she strangled through her tightly clenched
teeth, turning her face away from him as she felt the reddening flush
of her ultimate shame on her tear-wet cheeks.
Dear God! There's nothing left! Nothing! He's stripped me of everything
I've ever held dear to me ... my pride ... morals ... even my faith! I
can't believe tats has happened to me! All there is ... in the world
... for me ... is this time ... this wonderful cock ... in my cunt!
There's nothing else!
"Where ... Baby? Where?" Buzz chanted above her.
"In my count ... Buzz! In my fucking cunt!" she responded.
"How?"
"Hard! Deep! ... And fuck me ... good!"
"God, Joan! I'll fuck you ... so you can't walk straight!"
"Yes! Buzz! That's what I want ...! I want you to use that big cock in
my cunt ... to fuck me half to death! Come on! Fuck me ... now! Hard
and deep ... and don't stop!"
Buzz began rocking above her, using short, smooth strokes in and out of
her moist, expanding vagina; her body reacted of its own volition, her
determined fight against the lewd sensations of sexual desire that
rampaged through her were now vanished. She did not fight against
herself any longer, the obscene pleasure of wanton, unbridled sex
looming before her forced all reason from her mind. Now, there was only
surrender to the sensate flesh!
Giving herself up to the surging power of the sensations in her loins,
chills of mounting excitement began to build in her, as the easy tempo
of Buzz' cock began to thrust longer and deeper into her moistly
throbbing pussy, the spiraling ecstasy of total commitment easing her
conscience, as consciously, now, she responded with countering thrusts
of her own.
As he slowly increased his speed and the depth of his penetration, Joan
felt her whole nakedness responding to him, and she writhed undulantly
beneath him with ever-increasing vigor, the piston of his cock in her
working ever more smoothly in her moistly viscous cuntal passage. His
mouth sought hers, found it and her tongue shot upward into his mouth,
between his teeth, to be sucked, her moans of pleasure emitting
unceasingly from her throat in sex-crazed acceptance of whatever lewd,
obscene desire he wanted of her. Now, she began to move her tongue in
and out of his mouth in imitation of the genitals below, and he ovaled
his lips to accept her thrusting, demanding lingual member even more
sensuously. Already, he sensed the wanton abandon rising higher and
higher in her---
Joan began to grind her crotch up at him, in tempo with his smooth,
stroking beat, her lovely face contorted with a passion she never knew
existed until this point in time, her mouth working on his lips around
her plunging tongue while she began to pant, her nostrils flaring in
abject surrender to the rapture being generated in her slaving loins.
He could see her straining neck muscles, the contortion of her lovely
passion-flushed face, the thin film of perspiration forming on her
forehead and the tangled blonde hair, its wild disarray caused by her
flailing head only moments before; from deep in her throat, there came
a low, gurgling mewl of wild abandon, vibrating against his lips as she
kissed him with fervor and new-found elan. Buzz was thinking as he
drubbed in and out of her now responsive cuntal passage.
God! She can really fuck ... like a mink! I'll bet any odds Jim
Wright's never had it like this ... with her! He'll have to thank me
... for thawing her out for him! Damn! What a luscious piece ... a hot,
tight cunt ... round, full ass ... beautiful, big breasts ... and
blonde all over! Christ! What a gorgeous cunt ...! And, the way she's
using it ...! The sensations in may cock are about to drive me out of
my skull!
Sliding his hands down her flanks, he worked them beneath the soft,
satiny protuberances of her flexing and hollowing buttocks working
under him, clutching at them, kneading and massaging, his hands
clenching and unclenching as he alternately caressed and punished the
soft, warmly resilient flesh.
She groaned, loudly, her breath caught in her throat as his big hands
hauled her pelvis tighter up against his grinding loins, and he felt
her pulling her hips back farther, only to thrust them back again, her
vibrant cunt crawling up his driving cock in opposition to his every
forward thrust; then she began to draw her thighs back toward her
chest, flattening her breasts as she presented him the moist, flowering
portal of her cunt for his deepest penetrating thrusts, absorbing all
of his great length and breadth of rock- hard cock to ever greater
depths.
Joan's head rolled with delighted, unmatched, never-before-experienced
ecstasy, the last twinges of her former pain were gone, replaced by
erotic sensations, her passion-filled body joyous in her new-found
emotions, her legs on either side of his thick, impaling cock quivering
and twitching, spasmodically, in wild profligacy as her tongue
continued to slither wetly in and out of his mouth in semblance of oral
fucking while deep moans of rapture gurgled forth from her throat,
unceasingly. God! Never ... never in her life had she known anything to
equal this! Nothing had ever prepared her for this; from the sucking
and licking of her cunt to this very moment with Buzz' monstrous cock
plunging up into her, flicking past her cervix to the back wall of her
vaginal vault, filling her belly with this wonderfully warm hardness
that felt like it had belonged there ... forever.
She found that when she tensed her thighs, straining to tighten the
muscles of her loins, her neck and back muscles straining with the
effort and writhing her crotch up tight against him that the intensity
of her bliss was doubled ... almost unbearable. Oh, Dear Lord ... she
had never in her wildest dreams believed that such delicious sensations
could come from lying beneath a man, her legs spread, and being fucked
out of her mind by him ... and against her will ... committing adultery
... and willing and wanting to give back to her ravisher as much and
more as he was giving her. She was immersed in a beautiful sea of
sensations.
Don't let it ever end ... God! Let it go on forever!
Buzz had begun to pound into her with unmerciful force, his strokes
becoming longer and faster, withdrawing his engorged cock almost
completely clear of the tight, moist sheath of her cunt that clasped
him, hungrily, only the knob of his long, lust-hardened rod remaining
in her at the top of his stroke; then he plunged it into her upraised
crotch until his bloated balls slapped hard against the tiny, hairless
mouth of her desperately clenching anus. His throbbing testicles ached
as did his slaving cock with the mounting pressure of his need. It was
building to almost intolerable levels of sweet sensation and his head
swam, dizzily, with his ever increasing lust.
His hand slid down over the smooth whiteness of her lewdly gyrating
buttocks flexing and hollowing under him, his finger searching for the
tiny nether ring of her back passage nestled unprotected there between
the cheeks of her working ass. He felt the sudden gasp of delighted
surprise in her as he fingered its crinkled yet soft, warm flexing
movements as her pelvis thrust up passionately to absorb him to the
fullest. A few drops of warm, viscous fluid ran down from her slaving
cunt moistening the tiny clenched portal, and he teased it with his
finger, running in circles around it, then drawing the tip across the
tight, puckered opening, tauntingly, as she quaked and shivered with
both fear and anticipation.
"Now, Joan Baby ... I'm going to shove my finger up your asshole ... as
far as I can get it!" he croaked.
Struggling with herself, again, Joan knew that the obscene action and
his words were yet another debasement but the vibrant, ecstatic
sensations overpowered her, his words exciting her even more and she
wanted him to subjugate her to every lewd whim of sexual depravity that
he knew, the delirious raptures of the strangely masochistic idea
surging through her like a tidal bore.
"Oh, yes! God ... yeeeessss! That's what I want ...! I want you to
shove your finger ... clear up-up m-my asshole, Buzz!
His brain screamed with the lustful exhilaration of her acceptance of
everything he had done to her. God! She was his, completely! His cock
was nearly bursting, the painful feeling of ejaculation past due
burning acidly at the root of his blood-engorged testicles. Damn! He
couldn't wait very much longer! He had to squirt his semen deep up
inside her in cataclysmic release soon ... very soon!
He slowly began to insinuate the tip of his finger into the round,
tight, little, brownish, puckered hole of her back passage; then,
suddenly, with brutal, sadistic force, he pushed hard, and he could
feel the tight, protective muscle ring give way before his lean,
muscular finger, the soft, sponginess of her anal canal warm and smooth
to his touch as the tiny orifice was ravished, brutally ... painfully.
"OOOOOOooooooooh! God! That hurts!" she screamed in pain beneath him as
his cock pounded into her without mercy.
Christ, he had never known a woman who could fuck like this! He had
unleashed a wanton! In his mind, he cataloged the women he had fucked
... girl-friends, whores ... young girls, older women and the wife who
had turned out to be a lesbian. None of these, he knew, could ever
match the pure, animal sexuality that had been unfettered in Joan
Wright! Suddenly, then, he thrust harder, shoving his finger all the
way into her backside until his palm was flat against her rounded ass-
cheeks. He heard her grunt of pain even as her wildly clasping cunt
rode up and down his aching painful cock. Now, he began to rotate his
finger, slowly, gently, at first, then more rapidly feeling the bulge
in the thin, dividing tissues as his hardened rod of flesh slid in and
out of her, smoothly. After a few moments his finger was moving in the
warmth of her rectum in rhythm with the rampaging cock surging into the
warmly moist sheath of tightly, clasping cuntal passage, and she
moaned, incessantly, beneath him.
Never ... never had she felt such rampant pleasure-pain in her whole
life, the deliciously barbaric pain-source became one with her sensual,
ecstatic rapture of the moment.
Oh, Dear God ... that's wonderful! How can something so obscene ...
make me feel like this? I feel like I want to ... to be fucked ...
every way possible! Oh, God ... Oh, God! Every nerve in my body's on
fire!
The pain of her pleasure was real, his finger in her rectum expanding
the smooth rubbery channel, cruelly, even as unbelievable rapture
overcame her, filling her loins and belly ... even her swollen, sensate
breasts; meanwhile the gnawing agony of his rectal entrance began to
subside, her anal passage beginning to grow accustomed to the presence
of his digit in her backside, leaving her with only the pleasure, the
voluptuous, lascivious sensations rushing over her in a great curling
wave of sybaritic consciousness, as she tried, now, to skewer herself
back upon the unnatural phallus worming around in her anus and she
strained to absorb every millimeter of his wonderfully huge cock up
inside her searingly passionate belly.
Buzz could control his demanding lust no longer. Christ! His loins
throbbed achingly with his need for spewing release, and he rammed into
her wet, upthrust pussy with demon-like ferocity. She had taken his
finger in her asshole with uncommon delight; suddenly, he withdrew it
and thrust two fingers into her, to the very depths, without benefit of
gentle preparation. He wanted to hear her grunt in masochistic
acceptance of her pleasure-pain! Her mouth broke away from the oscular
contact. She grunted ... and grunted, and grunted! This was what he
wanted!
He wormed both fingers around inside the warm, spongy depths of her
anus, feeling his own massive rod of hardened flesh plunging in and out
of her, bulging through the thin partition between her passages; then
he began to use both together, his fingers fucking her rectum in time
to the cock that fucked her cunt. Slowly, her moaning whimpers
subsided, again, to be replaced with incessant mewlings of pleasure ax
her anal canal adjusted to the vicious, sadistic and unnatural invasion
to which he had subjected her. He found her mouth and buried his tongue
in her throat as she screwed her crotch up on his fingers and her legs
splayed out, her thighs now touching her shoulders to receive his
double ravishment of her loins and his tongue surged in and out of her
mouth in imitation of the wildly fucking cunt and cock below.
Joan cried aloud in agonized ecstasy. She was hopelessly impaled on the
rock-hard spear of his giant cock in her vagina and his fingers worming
deep up into the depths of her anal entrance; her throat was full of
his lashing tongue. God! All of her orifices were filled with him. She
had never known such insane rapture and she began writhing and
squirming under him, the double ravishment of her loins driving her,
demandingly, to gain the fullest measure of pleasure from it.
Oh, God! I'll go insane ... insane!
Buzz Henson had reached the point where he feared for his own sanity
... if he didn't cum soon! Christ! He had to cum! Now ... NOW! He
looked down between their slaving bodies to where his thick cock was
pistoning smoothly in and out of her luscious, hair rimmed cunt,
allowing himself to concentrate on the feel of her satin-lined vaginal
walls on the sensitive head of his lust-inflated prick, the soft hair-
lined folds of the fleshy cunt-lips clinging, tenaciously, to his
fierce rampaging rod that ran amok thrusting up into her like a driven
piling, the force of his pelvis smacking into her, causing her whole
body to jerk and quiver lewdly beneath him with the impact. He searched
his mind for another, even more subjugating technique, but he could
think of nothing he could do, unless they stopped to change positions;
understandably, he didn't want to stop ... even for that! It was the
one thing he hadn't done to her yet ... sodomize her ... fuck her right
in the ass! Hell! That would have to come ... later!
Instead, he reached down between them; his hand fondled her cunt lips
that clasped him so tightly, already, drawing them up on either side of
his cock to increase the friction, bringing further moans of unbridled
passion from deep in her straining throat. Even more, now, he felt the
muscles of her pussy clench him, her vagina clasping and massaging his
painfully hardened cock in its attempt, hungrily, to swallow all of his
ramming deep and deeper inside the seething inferno of her
uncontrollable, completely aroused and sensate cunt.
His jackhammer hips increased the speed and depths of his plunging
thrusts as she gyrated wildly and uncontrollably beneath him, her curt
climbing up and down his cock with unbelievable fury, her legs jerking
and scissoring, her toes curling and she lurched her legs wide and
upward toward him; he knew now that she was nearing her climax. It was
the first sign that he'd had that she was almost ready to cum. He
pounded, rammed, plunged and hammered his rod into her, unmercifully,
finally, yanking his fingers from her anus with a wet, obscene hissing
sound as he pressed his hands brutally behind her knees and shoved them
back, forcefully, until her golden-haired head was framed by them, the
whole table of her magnificent naked loins forced higher and wider,
open fully and defenseless to his assault upon her fluorescent cunt. He
held her rigidly in place, now, and in his exuberant attack he began to
withdraw his penis from her, making a new and sensuous entry with every
down-stroke, the engorged head driving into her clear to the back wall.
God! He had never known another woman who could take all of him ...
like this! She was taking it all ... and asking for more!
"Oh! OOOooohhh! oooooooOOOOOOHHHhhh! God! Oh, My God! Fuck it ... hard!
Buzz! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" she began to chant, beneath him, her lovely
face contorted as the obscene sex words spilled from her lips, her
passion, supremely urgent in her, demanding surcease: ... release for
her love-starved body.
Buzz groaned aloud, pummeling her hard and deep in his crazed effort to
stab his heavy cock far, far up into the coraline cavern, the tender,
vaulted sanctuary of her womb; he wanted to reach the core of her very
being with his hard rod of male flesh, and for a fraction of eternal
time, he had the thought, the vision that he would fail her ... that he
would not be able to bring her to the soaring heights of ecstasy his
cock had promised her; then before his eyes he saw her breasts heave
and quiver, the nipples expanding, erectly, filling even more and the
flush of her chest spreading, the droplets of perspiration now running
in rivulets from her proud mounding orbs, her eyes glazed, wild in her
head, her jaw agape, her golden tresses tossing wildly on the blanket
in a frenzy of sexual need. He felt the cofferdam, back behind his
bloated balls, begin to broach, the acid, burning of his load of sperm
commencing its long journey of ejaculation.
Not yet! God! ... Not yet! God! ... I've got to hold back!
She came!
She convulsed, spasmodically, beneath him!
"Oh! ... oooOOOhhhHHH! ... OOOOOOooooo OOOOOOOHHHHhhhh! Dear God ... in
Heaven! It's almost here! It's going to happen ... to me! I'm going to
... cum! Oh, God ... I'm cumming! Now! NO00000 ooooooo WWWWWW!!! AAAAA
aaaaa AAAAA ggggg hhh!"
As he continued to hammer into her with renewed fire, he thrust himself
ever deep and deeper into the receptive, wildly, spasmodic sheath of
her clasping vagina, the mouth and lips of her cunt sucking at him,
feverishly, and he used all the strength and might of his strong; lean
body to assure her an all-consuming orgasm. Her breathing came in
laborious, short gasps from deep in her chest, and he felt her jerky,
convulsive movements signaling the height of her ecstasy. Now, he
sensed his own hot, viscid semen race the length of his prick in
stimulating ecstasy, hosing through him in jetting spurts from the
orifice in the tip of the bloated, lust-hardened head, spewing far, far
up, into her soft, resilient cuntal vault. It jerked and pumped in
never-ending delight inside her and she ground her crotch up tight to
him to absorb all of it splashing lewdly around inside her belly.
Joan moaned aloud. Her thighs quivered and trembled and her belly
quaked with the unleashed rapture in her body. She had never realized
such joy existed on the face of the earth. With a final shuddering
sigh, she let her legs fall limp, shamelessly, while her heart pounded
like a trip-hammer in her chest. She had been filled and fulfilled by
the big cock still buried deep up inside the fiery depths of her very
being.
Buzz held himself rigid, as the final ejaculate streamed from him,
draining him, his rapture complete with the soaring ecstasy of his
spewing release, and he collapsed on top of her, his cock spasming in
subsidence. He emitted a deep groan of satisfaction through his
labored, panting breathing.
To Joan, now, the sexual delight she had sampled were of utmost
importance; the shame and humiliation she had just known were
secondary, but looming up in her mind, again, they tried to seize
control. She fought it, as she tried to identify herself within the new
framework that had been forged for her. She had been fucked to ecstatic
heights she had never dreamed of, and it had been done not by her
husband ... definitely not by her husband's boss, but by the young,
daredevil pilot, Buzz Henson.
Well, Jimmy ... I've been fucked ... really fucked ... for the first
time in my life! You've got a lot to learn ... now ... if you're going
to satisfy me! If it's true that you bargained with Andy ... were
willing to let another man fuck me ... your plans have gone astray!
Buzz was the first after you ...! Right now ... the way I feel ... both
you and Andy are going to have to stand in line!
Buzz stirred above her; he rasped into her ear, "God, Joan! What a
gorgeous piece of ass you are!"
"Should I feel complimented?"
"Hell yes! At least that's what I intended," he defended. "You liked it
... didn't you ...?"
"I-I ... liked it ... Buzz," she said. "It was ... marvelous! I don't
know ... I didn't suspect that anything could be so ... absolutely
perfect!"
"We'll have to do it, again ... sometime," he suggested.
"Maybe ... We'll see, Buzz. I'll have to think about it," she hedged,
the inkling of an idea beginning to form in her mind. She could not yet
articulate it, but she knew that it was an important concept ... that
she should nurture it ... for a while.
"You're not angry ...?"
"No ... I'm not angry. I'm very satisfied. After being made love to
like that ... how could I be angry?" she said demurely. "But I just
have to do some thinking ... before I decide whether or not there will
be a ... repeat performance. Now, if you'll get off me ... please?"
Mystified, Buzz obeyed, pulling his rapidly de-tumescent penis from her
with a wet, sucking sound.
Joan continued. "I'd like to have those codeine tablets for Jim," she
said.
"You're really in a hurry ... aren't you?"
"Jimmy's been having a lot of pain! ... I want the pills for him!
That's what I came for ...!" she countered.
"All right ... here they are!"
He reached for his jeans, extracted the cylinder of tablets from a
pocket and handed them to her. "One every couple of hours should be
enough," he instructed.
She took the container and held it tight in her hand.
"You were really sure of yourself ... weren't you?" she asked.
"Yes ... you could say that ..."
"Cocky!" Joan said. "Cocky as hell!"
Chapter 3
From the adjacent ridge another pair of eyes had watched with
lascivious interest ... eyes that stared through the field glasses with
the intent concentration of a microbiologist studying a newly
discovered sub-species.
Having gathered and chopped the supply of wood for the day, Andy Sloan
had decided to climb to the ridge paralleling the one chosen by Buzz
Henson as lookout point and signal area. Buzz had placed three piles of
wood and tinder at the crest of the ridge to be lighted as soon as an
airplane was heard or spotted in the vicinity. The ridge, to the north,
where Andy sat in the branch of a tree, the glasses held, avidly, to
his eyes, was the ridge that Andy had wanted to establish as a lookout
point, before he was deposed as the leader of the small band of crash
victims, but Buzz, trying to reason with him, had pointed out that
search planes were more likely to come from the south; Havre was only a
few miles from the Canadian border and was a smaller airport. Great
Falls to the South would send their search planes to the north;
therefore, the ridge to the south was the logical one upon which to
establish their observation and fire-signal base. The resultant
conflict of opinions coupled with several other blunders on Andy's part
had pushed Buzz to take control of the situation. Afterward, Gayle had
convinced him that he should cooperate; he did his share of what was
required of him, but the acid hate in him for Buzz Henson gnawed at
him, constantly; however, as he gaped through the glasses, watching the
lewd sex coupling on the next ridge, he couldn't help but admire the
pilot's masterful domination and subjugation of the haughty young Joan
Wright. God! Even at the distance, he could see the massiveness of the
hard cock the young pilot buried to the hilt between her lovely slim
legs.
He had watched almost the entire performance, and as he watched, he had
become sexually aroused, his prick jerking to erect hardness in his
pants, below, reminding him that he, himself, was supposed to get a
crack at that little bitch.
Son-of-a-bitch! Look at that woman fuck! I've never seen or heard of
anything like it! She acts like she can't get enough of that big cock
of Buzz'! God! I can't wait to shove mine into that cute little cunt!
Christ! If we hadn't crashed in this God-forsaken place ... I'd have
gotten some of that three days ago! It was all set with Jimmy ... and
Gayle! What a God damned crock this turned out to be!
The architect watched the couple on the opposite ridge until they
climaxed and lay still for several moments. He guessed there wouldn't
be another coupling, at least for a while; certainly, not after a fuck
that had lasted that long and had been so obviously satisfying to them
both. When he saw Joan reach for her clothing, he knew that his private
peep-show was over. He climbed, reluctantly, down from the tree. God!
His cock ached! Watching the pilot fucking the living shit out of his
employee's wife had been fun, but he was so damned hot, now! He had
waited too long! That son-of-a-bitch had beat him to her! But, by
Christ, he'd damn soon correct that.
Planning how he would approach her, Andy headed back down the slope
toward the little glade, a lewd smile playing across his lips; the
anticipation of holding that luscious, proud little piece in his arms
and fucking her silly held his attention to the exclusion of everything
else.
Half way down the slope, his reverie was interrupted by something
moving on the opposite slope, slightly below him. The tawny color made
him think there might be a deer in the brush; he swung the glasses up
to his eyes and spotted the animal, easily. He gasped aloud! God damn!
It was a mountain lion! He watched as the graceful animal picked its
way down the slope toward the stream. The big cat drank, daintily,
then, suddenly, he was gone, bounding up the hillside at an angle and
disappearing over the opposite ridge farther and lower down from where
Buzz and Joan had been lying. With his glasses, he searched the slope
to determine what it was that had caused the lion's sudden departure.
His perusal of the whole hillside, visible to him, revealed nothing,
but he remembered that he and Gayle had heard something moving about up
there, this morning; later, they had discovered those huge paw prints.
Damn! This place could get a little dangerous!
* * *
Joan dressed herself languorously; her still sensual body, tingling in
the after-glow of satiation, the euphoria she felt made her resist
covering her body, immediately; it felt good just to relax for a few
moments savoring the tremendously exhilarating experience of full
sexuality.
One thing I know for sure ...! I'll never be the same!
After several minutes, she roused herself and began, slowly to dress.
She sensed that Buzz, too, was reluctant to get dressed; he dallied,
having pulled on only shorts and undershirt by the time she was fully
dressed. Joan stood to her feet and stretched, felinely, looking down
at Buzz where he still sat on the blanket.
"I was just thinking," she said. "About all the ideas I'll have to
change!"
"Do you feel it, already ...?"
"Yes ... Yes, I do ...! And, I suppose ... in a way ... I should be
grateful ... "
Suddenly, she saw it! Her eyes widening in terror, she tried to speak,
but only a horrible croak came from her lips. She froze! One hand went
to her cheek; the other hand flailed helplessly toward Buzz.
"B-B-Bear ...!" she finally managed.
Buzz twisted, looking behind him up the ridge. The Grizzly Bear walked,
purposefully, toward them, his burning eyes watching their every move.
"Damn! Up the tree ... Joan!" he snapped, jumping quickly to his feet.
"Quickly!"
Joan turned blindly to the trunk of the huge oak. Buzz boosted her up,
climbing up, himself, behind her.
"Higher! Climb higher!"
She sobbed, "Oh, Buzz ... what'll happen ... to us?"
"Nothing!" he assured her. "Just keep climbing! Bears don't like to
climb ... unless they have to!"
From a limb fifteen feet above the ground, Buzz looked down to see the
bear reaching up the trunk of the tree, slashing at the bark with his
razor-sharp claws, snuffling and making sounds in his throat. Suddenly,
he growled and reached toward one of the lower branches.
"Up higher!" Buzz commanded. He tore a small, dead limb from the tree
and hurled it into the bear's face. Unaccountably, the bear backed
away, grabbed the stick and crushed it in his huge jaws. Now, he seemed
to have lost interest in them. He turned to sniff at the blanket and
Buzz' shoes and jeans.
Joan was frightened; tears ran down her cheeks, unnoticed.
Buzz looked over at her and cracked, "What a hell of a time to be
caught ... without my pants!"
In spite of her trembling fear, Joan smiled, as she looked to see that
he only had on his underwear, but the former huge bulge of his penis
was gone. She smiled. She could be light-hearted, too!
"Did that big thing of yours get scared ... and pull in its head ...?"
Buzz looked down, his hand going to his genitals, unselfconsciously.
"Well ... I'll guarantee there's nothing like a charging bear ... to
make a guy forget about sex!" he chuckled.
Below them, on the ground, the Grizzly Bear had found Buzz' jeans. He
slashed at them, furiously, cutting and ripping the garment with
seeming lack of reason for so doing; finally, after several moments,
the small pistol Buzz had put in the pocket of his jeans flew through
the air to land several feet away. The huge animal lumbered over to it,
picked it up in his mouth and melted into the underbrush.
In the tree, Buzz and Joan watched with fascination, not daring to
breathe. It was Buzz who broke the silence.
"I'll be damned ...! He took the gun!" he exclaimed; then,
thoughtfully, "I wonder ... He's disarming us! That's it! The gun was a
threat ... he's been shot at, before ... and he's taking the gun ... so
we won't be a danger ... to him!"
"Really, Buzz? But, that's so implausible ...!"
"You saw it happen! It's almost a believe it or not ... and I wouldn't
believe it ... if I hadn't seen it!" Buzz enthused.
"You're giving the animal credit ... for thinking?"
"Yes! There have been cases like this ... even more unbelievable! I
remember reading about some of them ... somewhere!"
"Now that he's gone ... is it safe to get down out of this scratchy old
tree ...?" she asked.
"Probably ... but I'd better walk back with you."
"Heavens! ... I-I wouldn't go by myself ... now!"
Buzz helped her down from the old oak tree; she sustained a few
scratches and whimpered about them, but when she saw the damage the
bear had done to Buzz' jeans, she decided the tree-damage to her skin
was really very minor.
She picked up the jeans and examined them. "They're completely ruined!"
she said.
"I'll have to wear them ...! I know ... I'll wrap the blanket around me
... to keep me modest," he said.
"Do you have another pair?"
"No ... I don't! That's the hell of it!" Buzz complained.
"I-I think Jim has an extra pair ..." she suggested.
"Great! Maybe I could borrow them ..."
Joan smiled sweetly up into his face. "What's it worth to you Buzz?"
"I'll be damned!" he grinned. "You learn fast!"
* * *
Returning to the camp in the glade, they found Andy and Gayle playing
strip poker. Gayle was obviously losing; she slipped into a robe when
she saw Buzz. He told them briefly about their bizarre adventure and
suggested they all go over to the Wright's lean-to, if Jim was awake.
Joan found her husband sitting up; she gave him a cup of water and a
codeine tablet without a word of explanation.
"Thank you Darling ... Where'd you get them ...?" Jim asked.
"From the medicine chest. You can take one every two hours ... if you
need to ..."
Buzz explained to the group what had happened on the ridge ...
concerning the bear. He told them, that from that point on, neither of
the women were to be alone; when they had to leave, they should go
together, but preferably, one of the men should be with them. He issued
guns to all the men with instructions to have them constantly in
possession.
"Speaking of guns ... that was my pistol the bear got," Andy
complained.
"When we get back, submit a bill to the charter company," Buzz told
him.
"If we get back ...!" Andy snorted. "I saw a big mountain lion, up on
the ridge ... this afternoon!"
The two women registered complete surprise. Jim was interested; Buzz
told them that in this country he was not at all surprised to hear it.
After some other discussion and small talk, the meeting broke up, and
Buzz turned to Joan.
"Joan ... I'd like to talk with you a moment ..."
She walked toward the wrecked plane with him. He still wore the blanket
around his middle.
"Can you get those extra pants for me ...?" he asked her.
"I notice ... you didn't say anything about your Jeans!
"Well ... it'd be a little hard to explain how they got damaged while I
wasn't in them," he said.
"I wasn't kidding! It'll cost you ... something!"
"O K.! I'll pay ... gladly!" he said.
"Tonight ...?"
"Yes! Tonight ... after supper! You're already an insatiable little
bitch!"
"Now, I am ..." Joan said, smiling demurely. She went to their lean-to
where Jim still sat.
"Buzz wants to borrow a pair of jeans," she said. "He ripped them ...
when he was helping me down from the tree ..."
"Sure ... they're in my bag ..."
Going to the soft duffel bag she rummaged in it until she found the
extra trousers.
Jim went on. "How come you were up on the ridge ... with him ... this
afternoon?"
"I went to see the sights ...!"
"Is that all ...?" he queried further.
She hesitated. "Yes ... that's all ... There's a beautiful view from up
there."
"And ... you just looked at the view ... for almost two hours?"
"Yes ... Jim ... with open eyes! It was a lovely vista ... one that I'd
never seen before!" she murmured.
"I don't get it ...?"
"I'm not blind ... any more!"
"What...?"
"I can see more, now, than ever before ...!" she said.
"You're talking in riddles ... Joan!" he blurted.
"Am I ...?" she asked. "Maybe ... but you'll know the answers ... when
you ask the right questions!"
"That doesn't make any sense!"
"Does anything? This trip? Why did you haul me up here?" she asked,
breathless now. "That's a good question ... and you know the answer!"
"I don't ..." he began.
"I do!" she snapped, taking the trousers in her hand and turning to
walk toward the crushed airplane where Buzz waited for her.
Her husband called, "Joan ... come back here! Let me ... talk to you!"
She paused, turned back to him and said, "It's too late ... for talking
... Jimmy!"
* * *
It was an hour, yet, before it would be time to start cooking the
evening meal, and Joan felt the need of a bath. She got towel and soap
from her bag and was leaving the shelter when Jim, whom she thought was
asleep, sat up and looked at her; his eyes were terrifying, burning
holes in his ashen face.
"Where are you going?"
"Down to the stream ... Why?"
"Is Gayle going with you?" he queried.
"Yes ..." she lied.
"Good! That's 0.K., then ..."
A stricken look came over his face. He looked up at her, his mouth
working, trying to find words.
"Joan ... Darling... Is something ... wrong ... between us ...?"
"Do you think there is ...?" she countered, coolly.
"I-I don't know ... I ..." he blundered. "You're different ... changed,
somehow ..."
"You're right ... Jimmy! I have changed!"
"But... why? ... How ...?"
"The way you wanted me ... to change!"
"Riddles! Riddles! I-I don't understand ..." he groaned.
She was assailed with doubt and a gnawing question. Was it possible he
didn't remember ... that he was suffering from amnesia ... concussion?
After all, he had sustained a fairly heavy blow to his head; the
concussion could have caused him to forget. Then, too, she only had
Buzz' word that there had been an agreement ... an arrangement, as it
were, between Jim and his boss---an arrangement that would throw her
into Andy Sloan's arms, in exchange for what? She didn't know yet! Was
it money ... or Gayle Sloan ...? Both? Somehow, she had the feeling
that it was both, and that it was just a matter of time before Andy
would be making a move to ... to seal the unholy bargain. God!
I'm beginning to feel lice some kind of harem slave-girl!
To Jim, she said, "Don't fret about it ... Jimmy. I-I was just feeling
... bitchy! I'll be back pretty soon ... get some rest!"
She kneeled before him and kissed him, tenderly, on the lips. He lay
back, again, on the sleeping bag and closed his eyes.
"Joan," he murmured. "I'm glad you got those pain pills for me ..."
"I thought you needed them ..." she said.
"They've helped ... quite a lot ... Thank you ..."
"Rest ... now ..." she said, soothingly, rising to go.
Joan walked away, quickly, toward the stream, heading for the lower
part of the meadow, where the stream had entered a small stand of
trees. She had bathed there, before, in relative private, feeling quite
sure that no one had ever seen her while she was there.
Andy Sloan's observant eyes caught her movement as she walked swiftly
away. He threw down his cards and got to his feet.
"Excuse me, My Dear ..." he said.
Twisting her head around, Gayle Sloan saw the object of his interest.
She smiled up at him lewdly.
"She is such a beautiful girl ... isn't she ...?"
"Delectable!"
"Be gentle with her, Andy!"
"Why should I ...? The little bitch fucks like a mink!" he growled.
"Experience ...?"
"Observation! I watched her and Henson go at it ... this afternoon!"
"SOOoo ... that's why you were all hot and bothered...?
"It was quite a spectacle!" he gloated, remembering.
"I thought I had soothed the beast, properly ..."
"Oh, you did, My Dear ... but there's always the resurrection!"
"You mean ... erection!"
"I mean ... I've got to fuck that little bitch!"
"Damn it! I had been looking forward to this trip ... for some real
swinging performances ... but Jim Wright's in no condition ... and Buzz
hasn't shown very much interest in me ... yet," she complained.
"Don't let Buzz get by you ..."
"What's so special about our pilot ...?" she asked.
"He's got just about the biggest cock you ever saw!"
"MMMmmmmmnnnn! I'll go to work on it!" she promised.
"Joan's almost out of sight, now," he observed. "I'm going to go see
what I can do with her ..." The architect walked out of the clearing
and into the trees. He knew exactly where she would be; he had watched
her bathe in the stream twice before this, but there had been something
in him that had held him back. He had wanted to fuck her so badly! That
business of being knocked down by Buzz Henson, his position of power
and leadership usurped by the dare-devil pilot, had been devastating to
his ego. Now, he was his old self!
Chapter 4
Trodding softly and keeping just inside the line of trees bordering the
natural meadow, Andy made for the spot where he knew Joan Wright would
be. Birds flitted and warbled in the trees overhead; he stopped and
watched as a bright blue feather came skimming down from the heights,
its erratic flight through the sifting sunlight making it a thing of
beauty. Impulsively, he ran to catch it before it could touch the
ground. He held the feather in his hand and surveyed its deep
iridescent sheen, his artist's eye appreciative of nature's use of
color. Putting the feather in his shirt pocket, Andy grinned
salaciously to himself; it might come in handy.
Damn! The last time I did it to Gayle she climbed the walls!
In a few moments he saw her, a vision of golden loveliness as she stood
naked in the stream soaping her body. He watched as she ran the soap
over the full, pouting mounds of her milk-white breasts, over her flat
belly and sensuously curving hips. God Damn! She was beautiful! He saw
that the triangle of her pubic mound was covered with light, sparse,
golden hair that matched the fiery gold of her head.
She's not a bottle blonde ... after all! Christ! She's got it! Those
tits are perfect! ... And, her hips and thighs! God! I can hardly wait
to get my hands on her!
He moved forward, silently, to crouch behind a bush. It was too early
to make his presence known. When she had finished her ablutions and was
getting ready to dress would be a more propitious time.
Now, she squatted down in the water rinsing the soap from her, the suds
rushing downstream away from her in glistening array as they caught the
sunlight. She washed her face, thoroughly, scrubbing it to a rosy glow
of cleanliness; then he saw that she performed a primitive douche,
using her hands between her thighs to scrub and ream. His penis jerked
and throbbed to erection as he watched her hands at her loins, visible
to him in the clear water. She rinsed her body, again, and waded to the
bank where she picked up her towel and dried herself vigorously,
imparting a rosy, healthful glow to her vibrant skin and serving to
warm her against the light stir of the air. Now! Now, was the time to
move! The architect rose to his feet and cleared his throat as he
walked slowly toward her.
"Beautiful!" he said. "Beautiful! Like a Venus de Milo ... with arms!"
Alarm ... fear ... shame stabbed into her like arrows; she gasped aloud
as she turned toward him, her face reddening in a deep flush.
"Oh! My God!"
He went on, "... Or Diana At The Bath ..."
"Oh ... It's you ... Andy!" she exclaimed, recognizing him.
"Yes ... your protector ... and admirer! You were being very naughty to
go off by yourself ... this way! Our home-grown hero gave explicit
orders ... that neither of you women were to go anywhere alone!"
She had whipped the towel in front of her in modesty at the first sound
of his voice, and she was very much aware of her nakedness in the
presence of this man.
Dear God! He must have been watching me! ... Hiding out there in the
woods ... like a peeping tom!
He continued to walk toward her, boldly.
"... But, I had to ... to take a bath ..."
He was two paces away, now. Joan began to panic as suddenly his intent
came to her mind.
"Yes, I know ... It was necessary ... wasn't it, My Dear?" he grinned,
lewdly.
"Stay away f-from ... m-me!" she blurted. "S-Stop ... right there?" She
read the lust in his eyes.
Andy stopped a foot away from her; he looked down at her trembling
body, her fear-struck eyes staring back at him.
"You felt it necessary ... to wash the essence of him out of you," he
chortled. "... And your desire for cleanliness is to be commended!"
"W-What do you ... m-mean ...?" she trembled.
"I saw your performance ... this afternoon ... with Buzz Henson! Does
that jar your memory?" he rapped out at her.
Joan moaned aloud in shame and humiliation; she dropped her tear filled
eyes to the ground, not daring to look at him, now.
Oh, God ...! Wasn't it enough that Buzz shamed me ...? Andy was
watching me ... us ... too! I feel so ... so vile!
"H-How could you ... know ... see us ...?" she stumbled.
"Easy! With field glasses ... on the opposite ridge!"
"... And, you ... s-saw ... e-everything ...?"
"Everything!" Andy assured her with finality.
"OOh, God!" Tears started again into her eyes, misting them so that she
couldn't see.
"I've been debating with myself ... Should I, or should I not ... tell
your husband!"
Suddenly, Joan's mind grasped what he was going to lead up to, and she
had to counter him ... stall him, somehow.
"You wouldn't?"
"That's right ... I wouldn't ... under certain conditions!"
"C-Conditions ...?"
"Yes ... it's very simple! I want to fuck you ... and I won't tell him
... if you're completely cooperative!"
Joan saw her opening. She looked up at him and pulled the towel closer
to her.
"What difference would it make ... if you told him. He's already
bargained me away!" she said, defiantly.
"What ...? How ... did you ...?" he sputtered.
"... And ... I decided to choose ... I took Buzz!" she finished.
The architect's face contorted in sudden rage. He reached for the towel
and stripped it from her body.
"And, your stupidity will cost him his job! ... As soon as we get back
... I'll fire his ass right out of the office!" he gritted.
God, Oh God! What have I done ...? Jimmy can't lose this job ...! What
shall I do ...? How can I keep him from being fired ...?
Her answer came with his next words. He went on, "... Unless you play
the game ... Doll!"
"You mean ...?"
"You fuck me ... and he keeps his job!"
"D-Did you promise him a-a raise ...?" she asked. "If I-I cooperated
...?"
"Hell! I did better than that ... I offered to cut him in on the
partnership ...!" he bragged, reaching out to take her in his arms and
crushing her in a bear-hug to his chest.
"No! NO! Don't ... please ...?" she moaned.
He kissed her neck and shoulder as she twisted her head aside,
violently, to avoid his searching lips.
"Isn't that good enough for you ...?" he growled.
"I-It's not that ... There's one more thing I-I've got to know ...!"
"What's that?"
"Your wife ... and Jim ...? Did he want her ... too?"
"Well ... since you asked ... I don't know about Jim ... But Gayle had
the hots for him! ... And she usually gets what she goes after!"
Andy slid his hands down her back feeling the svelte smoothness of her
naked skin ... down to the twin protuberances of her fully rounded
buttocks; his fingers dug and kneaded the cool flesh of them, then with
cruel strength, he pulled her loins in tight to him, the bulge of his
erection cleaving into her cusp with devastating force. She moaned into
his shoulder as her loins began to smolder in sensual response.
"And ... and you let her ... do it ...?"
"It's our little arrangement ... makes an exciting marriage!" he
explained.
"It sounds ... repulsive!"
"That's what you think ... now! Wait until you've really learned to
swing ... you'll think differently!"
"S-Swing ...?"
"Swap ... swing ... whatever you want to call it ..."
"... And, Jim ... agreed ...?" she asked. "Jim really agreed ...
knowing what it was all about ...?"
"You bet your sweet ass he did!" Andy grunted, dropping his head in
search of her mouth, again.
Joan avoided his avidly searching lips; she had to have time ... time
to think about it ... about what she really thought ... about Jim's
bizarre bargain, the conditions just laid down by her husband's boss,
Gayle's sexual desire for Jim ... and her darling husband's obvious
desire for his boss' wife. It was all so confusing ... crowding in on
her, demanding a solution ... a decision!
With Buzz, this afternoon, there was no chance for her to decide, with
a clear head whether or not she would ... or would not make love to
him. He had forced her ... debauched her with shame, degradation and
humiliation, her defenses weakened to the point where she had
surrendered, unconditionally, to him. Was it to be that way, now, with
Andy? Did she really have a choice?
I'm so mixed up ... now! Dear God! What should I do ...? Andy's not
really forcing me ... to do it ... the way Buzz did ... I could jerk
myself away from him ... and run away! He might catch me ... and rape
me ... maybe, even hurt me ...! Heaven forbid! H-He could ... even kill
me ... if he didn't have his wag with me! If I refuse him ... he'll
fire Jimmy from his job! God ... I wouldn't want to be responsible for
that! ... But if I agree ... just lie down and spread my legs for him
... and let him use me ... Jimmy'll keep his job ... become a partner
in the company ... and I would be no better than a twenty dollar whore!
Did Jimmy think about that ... when he agreed ... t-to let Andy have
me? That's what I'd be ... a WHORE! I'd be trading my body for
something of value ... something we've both wanted! Is it worth it ...?
Could I live with myself ...? Would Jim still love me ... want me ...?
Dear God ... there are so many questions I don't know the answers to
...! I don't know ... I just don't know ... what to do ...! Help me
...! Help me to do the right thing ... make the right decision ...!
Please? God?
She was jolted out of her confused, indecisive, reverie; the architect
shifted a hand to her jaw, grasping it in strong fingers to swing her
head around, their eyes coming into contact: his glaring anger; hers
shame-ridden; his voice came croaking out at her.
"God damn it! I'm tired of playing games! Let's fuck, baby. Just like
you did this afternoon."
Suddenly, his mouth was on hers, his tongue bursting through the
barriers of teeth and lips to probe and savor her. She tried to escape
... drew her head back and away ... to scream, but he held her immobile
and helpless in his strong arms. His lips and tongue ignited a slow
fuse in her, the erotic, sexy sensations in her mouth as his tongue
moved there, the sweet, yet pungent taste and smell of tobacco on his
breath, the sweaty, acrid odor of man-sweat and the strength of his
hands and arms holding her against him, the rough fabric of his shirt,
irritating and arousing the coraline nipples to erect hardness all
combined to throw a net over her ... trap her in a morass of ecstatic
sensations that coursed through her in rapturous, sensuous sexuality
that threatened to explode with devastating force in her loins. Oh,
Dear God!
I can't! I can't let him do this to me ...! Make me want it ... Make me
give in to him! Dear God! I feel like a slut! A man just kisses me now
... and I want it ... want to have his thing in me! Is that ... what
makes a woman into a whore?
Then, she was kissing him back; her tongue came alive in her mouth and
jousted with his, finally, lashing snake-like into his oral cavity
where it searched and caressed.
The hand that still held her in close to him, relaxed on her buttocks
and began to explore the curving outlines of her waist, hip and thigh;
the other hand dropped from her jaw and began its own teasing search of
the mounding hemispheres of her breasts, finding a hardening nipple
which he taunted to full erection between rolling thumb and forefinger.
Now, she raised her arms and placed them around his neck to pull his
head down tighter to her lips, and her tongue flicked in and out of his
mouth in subconscious signal to him of her readiness ... her desire
that flamed higher and higher every moment.
Leaving her thigh, Andy's hand worked its way in between them to the
golden bush of her triangle, and he slipped a finger into the top of
her vaginal slit, working it down until he found the hardening spike of
her clitoris hidden within the fleshy folds of her cunt-lips. He
brushed over it lightly, feeling it throb to hungry life under his
finger tip.
Joan was suddenly weak in the knees; she slumped against him, her
vision blurred, swimmingly, and she felt dizzy, lightheaded ...
tingling all over with unbidden, unwanted sexual desire.
Damn! What his lips ... and hand do to me ...! I feel absolutely
helpless ... to resist him! But I can't let him ... dominate me ...
shame me ... without a fight! If I let him make me want it ... so easy
... where does it end ...? Any man ... that just touches me ... could
... could fuck me ... anytime, anywhere ... Oh, God! No! I don't want
that ...!
He released her and she slumped to her knees in the soft grass;
blindly, dumbly, she picked up the large bath towel and spread it out,
a mewling hum coming from her throat that she could not control. The
towel spread, she lay upon it, on her back, her legs clamped tightly
together, eyes closed and arms crossed over her breasts, as a furious
battle raged in her, for the second time that day ... her sensuous body
pitted against her reasoning mind; she was determined that, this time,
her body would not win!
Losing no time, Andy threw off his clothing, stopping, at the last
moment, to retrieve the feather from his shirt pocket, mentally
congratulating himself on his foresight. The feather was exactly what
he needed ... the implement that would break down the final barriers
she had erected; he chuckled silently to himself in anticipation of
what was to come, noting that she had lain down with all her defenses
up. Christ! This was going to be fun!
In a few moments, Joan knew, Andy would be on top of her digging,
poking, pinching, biting and trying to get his erected cock into her
vagina as she lay there, defenseless and helpless, but she would resist
him ... fight him ... battle with herself every step of the way, not
allowing the vile, debasing sensations of sexual rapture to get the
upper hand in her. She could not help herself, now; she knew that there
could be only one ending to the game she played with Andy Sloan. He
would mount her, fuck her, frantically, for a few minutes, spurt his
vile sperm into her ... and that would be that!
But ... dome it! I don't have to like it! ... I'll resist it to the
end! I won't become what they are trying to make out of me! I won't!
Won't! WON'T!
Then, the unexpected happened!
Joan was caught completely by surprise; her body jerked, involuntarily,
at the light, tickling touch of something that moved, inch by tortuous
inch, up the smooth, sensitive flesh of her inner thighs where they
were clamped tightly together. Her eyes flew open and she gaped down to
where Andy was crouched beside her, a bright blue feather held lightly
in his fingers; he grinned down at her lewdly, as he continued to tease
her with the tip of it, dragging it along the ivory columns of her
quivering thighs. Instinctively, a hand flew to her genitals to protect
them. She realized in a flash that if he were to touch her there with
that feather all would be lost. It would be too much for her to bear!
Catching up her hand, easily, in his own, strong-fingered hand, he
growled, "I thought you'd like this ... there's nothing quite like it
... so why don't you just lie back and enjoy it!
"Oh, My God! That's torture!"
"Not really, My Dear ... It'll be rapture ... before long!" he exulted;
then, commandingly, "open your thighs!"
"N-No! I won't! I won't let you ... do this to me!"
"Very well! I'll stop, now ... and that mutton-headed husband of yours
is out of a job!" he gritted. "Take your choice! It's the same one you
had a while ago!"
Hot tears streamed from her eyes. "I-I just can't ... let you do it ...
to me!"
"You seemed to enjoy Buzz Henson ... this afternoon!"
"H-He forced m-me ...!" she sobbed.
"That sure as hell didn't look like a rape to me!" he chortled.
Hell! Maybe that's her bag ...! She's got to feel like she's being
forced! It gives her art excuse! That's it ...! Buzz found it out ...
and worked on it! l should've remembered it, myself! That little red-
head I brought into our club about three months ago was like that!
Andy released her hand, and with both hands on her knees he pried her
legs apart, forcefully, taking pleasure in the part he had to play.
"OOooh!" she sobbed. "Don't! Please don't?"
"All right, then ... you little bitch! You want to be fucked the hard
way ... eh? Well, I'm tired of messing around with you! You're going to
get fucked so hard ... you'll remember it the rest of your life ... and
tell it to your granddaughters!" he roared.
Then, holding her thighs apart with one hand, he began, again to
tantalize her naked flesh with the feather as she moaned out her
humiliation, her hands over her face to shield her eyes from the shame
of it.
Joan groaned aloud as the tantalizing lightness of the feather traced
tiny circles on the soft, sensate skin of her inner thighs, going into
the hollows on either side of the fleshy cunt lips. She wanted to
scream with the torment, but his sudden change to meanness and
demanding force frightened her. He might become violent! She didn't
want to be hurt, so she stifled the scream in her throat.
The feather moved, relentlessly, and now it was moving in the coral
furrow between the golden, softly hair-fringed cuntal lips. He twisted
it around and around, dipping every now and then between the inner
petals that had begun to flower open, blood-engorged and turning a
darker coraline as he watched. Never, had she experienced such a lewd,
sexy, exciting sensation. It was even more arousing than the
cunnilingus that Buzz had performed upon her. Somehow, she had to
retain her sanity ... fight against it ... not let it get to her as
Buzz had, this afternoon! Dear God! Help me!
She panted in short, sharp gasps; she could feel it now as he thrust
it, twirlingly, in and out of her cuntal passage, igniting searing
fires of desire that leaped and flared in her nerve endings like a
forest fire racing before a strong wind, destroying all in its path.
She was sure that the innocent feather was a destructive tool of
uncommonly cruel torture and that it would be the source of her
complete destruction.
She tried to fight back the rising excitement in her loins, denying the
existence of the rapture that had begun to move her. Unconsciously,
uncontrollably, her hips began to move under her, scribing tiny lewd
circles of salacious desire. Suddenly, she became aware of the warmth
and wetness in her cunt, the viscid fluids exuding from the inner walls
of her vaginal vault to ooze in droplets of moisture into the throbbing
pink slit of her female being, the portal becoming wet and slippery,
readying itself for the entrance of a hard, joy-bringing cock.
"Oh, My God! Andy! I can't stand it! Please ...? Oh, please ...?" she
begged in utter humiliation.
... But, Andy would not stop; he turned the feather further into the
wet furrow of her cunt, the teasing tip of it sliding, finally, upward
through the sparse golden fringe to the erect, throbbing clitoris
encanopied there. He moved it, tormentingly, up and down the short
length of the miniature phallus, coming to rest with a twisting motion
on the sensitive triangle of its tumescent head. Again, she stifled a
scream in her throat ... but this time it was a scream of utter joy
that she killed. She would not allow him the pleasure of knowing that
he had subjugated her with a tiny insignificant feather! No! NO! NOO!
her mind screamed!
As quickly as it had come to that secret place, the lust-inciting
feather suddenly was gone, and she felt it trailing up through the
silky, softly curling hair of her mons, across her abdomen and over her
flat belly, twirling, playfully into her navel, moving out to her groin
to twist in the hollow there; then, with a broad sweep it was on her
breasts, orbiting them in a figure eight that grew smaller and smaller
as it worked up the full mounds of her milk-white breasts toward the
crowning coral-tipped nipples.
Oh God! That feels so good! I've had more pleasure ... in sex, today
... than Jimmy's given me in three years of being married! I don't
understand it ...! Why? Why do I feel like this ...? And neither one of
them ... is my husband! Oh, God! I won't be able to hold out very much
longer! l wish he would just shove his cock in me and fuck me ... and
get it over with right away! This is sheer hell!
Soft whimpers and mewlings commenced to issue from her lips, as the
feather, still moist from the wetness of her cuntal slit moved in ever
smaller circles until it circled only one of the hard erect nipples,
playing on the areola, then on the pink column of the nipple itself,
her quivering breasts atingle with the lascivious sensations it
generated in them.
Her shame and humiliation was too great, crying to her confused mind,
trying to warn her that it was almost too late, but her body was
ascendant; she moved her shoulders to jiggle her breasts, lewdly,
against the tantalizing feather. Her body wanted more of it, even as
her mind fought against it!
Even as she fought with all the power of her mind, she was aware only
of the throbbing ache at the vee of her loins, and the viscid moisture
there made her even more expectant, the anticipation of what was to
come stabbing excitedly at her confused being. Every cell in her
aroused body cried for fulfillment ... for release from the torture of
the feather on her trembling breasts.
Reason, pride and self-respect battled to gain control of her writhing
body; she was forced, finally, to see herself as she really was. The
image was of a young wife, love-starved without knowing it, sensual,
vibrant, alive ... wanting life and love but never exposed to either.
The plane crash ... her husband's injury, the need to feel needed ...
Buzz Henson licking her to full arousal ... fucking her as she had
never been fucked before ... soaring to the heights in orgasm ... all
of this paraded before her eyes; then in the present ... the feather,
sensually teasing the taut nipples of her breasts, torturing her ...
arousing her, again, to full sexuality, a slave at the hands of yet
another man---not her husband---a man who was forcing her, subjugating
her to his will as the obscene fires of unbridled passion flared in
her, AND she fought it with all of her strength of mind! And then, her
mind turned. Why? Why did shed fight against a gift freely given ...
the gift of sex enjoyed to the fullest? Suddenly, she realized the
foolishness of her struggle. The rewards of not struggling were the
greater!
Her hands drifted to the magnificent orbs of her breasts; against her
will, she massaged them upward, unwittingly pressing them up straight
from her prone, quivering body, the two upstanding orbs demanding, now,
that they be teased and tormented with lewd, exciting pleasures they
had never known before, and the taut, erect nipples throbbed with
delight as they seemed to offer themselves up to the torture of the
feather, almost as if her breasts were an entity of their own,
completely separate from her sensate body trembling under the
tormenting caress of the feather in his hand.
As the young wife's mind began to release her body from conscious
control ... to liberate it to the total, depraved enjoyment of the
sensual, sexual ministrations of her husband's boss, she felt the
teasing feather again trace a salacious path down through the moistly
perspirant valley of her breasts and move downward, down, down, again
to the pulsating pink flesh of her warm, moist cunt. She gasped in
sheer ecstatic pleasure as she felt it slide through the golden curls
of her pubic mound, pausing, momentarily, to pay twitching homage to
her pulsing clitoris; she almost screamed her frustration when it
didn't stop there; instead, it plowed, lightly down through the coral
moistness of her furrow and began to run in smaller and smaller
circles, homing in on the brown, puckered ring of her anal opening. The
fully rounding globes of her white, soft and smooth buttocks convulsed,
suddenly, as the tip of the feather nestled, tantalizingly against the
clasping, rubbery, nether portal of her anus.
"OOOOOoooooh!" she moaned, ecstatically, as the unbelievably powerful
sensations coursed through her. "Oh, Christ! I can't take any more ...
Andy! Stop! Oh, God ... please stop!"
Andy breathed heavily as he crouched between her legs plying the blue
feather, watching as she raised her full curving hips, the clenching
and unclenching anus seeming almost as though it reached out to claim
the torturing feather for itself.
She's going to be ready in just a little while! God! she's getting
hotter than a three dollar pistol! This is the most luscious little
piece of ass I've ever seen! Damn! I'm going to enjoy fucking her ...!
I can hardly wait to get may prick in her!
His cock throbbed, achingly, and he was aware that it had jerked
several times, involuntarily, squeezing a small rivulet of clear,
viscid lubricant from the tip. It was no longer necessary to hold her
legs apart, as she spread them wider, searching upward for the feather
with her loins; now, her tortured mind craved release from the torment,
demanding surcease from the frustration of rapture too long sustained,
but her lust-crazed body demanded more of the sadistic taunting of her
pulsating loins.
Releasing her legs, Andy reached with his free hand to grasp his
throbbing cock. He milked the foreskin back to reveal the red, blood-
engorged head, spreading the lubricant with his thumb over the broad,
chunky crown, the feather alive in his hand as he searched out the
enshrined clitoris in its fleshy folds of cuntal flesh.
"Stop! STOP!" she screamed. "Oh, Please, please ... no more! NO MORE!"
"Are you ready ... to take my cock, now?" he chuckled.
"Oh, yes ... please! Anything! ... But, please ... I can't stand any
more ... of that feather!" she moaned.
With her last gasping words, the agonizing torment was suddenly lifted
from her frustrated cunt, leaving her breathless, as she slowly relaxed
and lowered her upraised pelvis, feeling a sense of relief in her
clenching wet slit. The teasing feather had raised her to the highest
pitch of excitement she had ever experienced. Now, she wallowed in her
shame again; she had told Andy she was ready ... ready to take his cock
... ready to be fucked like a slut by her own husband's boss.
Andy had tossed the feather aside.
"It's served its purpose!" he said. "Did you like it?"
"L-Like it ...? It's horrible!" she moaned.
He slithered down between her legs until his mouth was hanging just
above her softly palpitating vagina. Christ! He'd never seen a lovelier
cunt! He gaped at the narrow slit, its pink ragged opening was wet with
the viscous moisture from the walls of her cuntal passage. God! She was
more than ready!
Joan gaped down at him crouched between her legs through lust-crazed
eyes. She could feel the palms of his hands, hot against the tender
softness of the flesh of her inner thighs, holding them wide apart;
suddenly, she knew his intentions, and she had the crazy, unbidden
desire to open them even farther for him, to allow him full access to
her most secret, inner femaleness. This afternoon with Buzz had been an
experience beyond her wildest dreams, but now, after she had been
aroused with the feather ... to be licked there would be next to
heavenly. She watched him in fascination tinged with anticipation and a
small dash of horror. Her mind had still not accepted, fully, the
erotic domination---the treason---of her body, for surely, it was her
body that had betrayed everything she had ever believed to be good and
holy. Slowly, his gray-tinged head lowered toward the golden mound at
the base of her belly.
"AAAaaagh!" she moaned and her body jerked, uncontrollably, as his hot,
wet lips closed over her warm, pulsating vaginal opening. Her vision
blurred, his face out of focus as he planted wet, lascivious kisses on
the still tingling aperture of her snug young pussy, his tongue lashing
insanely into the moistness of the quivering hair-lined opening.
Her own hands moved with sensuous knowledge down over the twin mounds
of her throbbing breasts, her fingers teasing the erect, coral nipples
for a moment before they slid slowly along her smooth, flat belly,
finally coming to rest in her groin on either side of his working lips.
Her fingers stroked softly for a few moments from the flexing hollows
of her inner thighs upward to the fleshy, hair-lined lips, rubbing and
caressing all around them until she could wait no longer; then, she
slowly, of her own volition, spread the pink, wet lips apart, pulling
to either side, allowing his hungry mouth the liberty of all her moist,
secret being, the feeling deep in her that she must give all of herself
to him ... now!
Moaning, incessantly, now, she pressed her elbows to her ribs, her
blonde hair in moist disarray as her head flailed from side to side
with her unbridled rapture as his agile, searing tongue flicked out,
its soft, searching tip circling her palpitant clitoris, tantalizingly.
She felt his lips suck at her, drawing the warm soft petals of her
fluorescent cunt deep into the hot cavern of his mouth, his tongue
continuing its maddening licking of the throbbing pink and erect bud of
her sex. Unashamedly, she groaned out her pleasure from deep in her
throat, mewling and purling as the hot, searching tip of his lingual
member worked its way up and down the narrow length of her soft, wet
furrow, starting at the lower belly and pressuring its way down over
the resilient opening of her hungrily clasping vagina; then, his tongue
traveled down, down into the crevice of her hollowing buttocks,
stopping, momentarily, to probe wetly at the tight, puckered anal ring,
below. Her hips gyrated wildly as she shoved her undulant pelvis up at
him in beggarly supplication for more.
Joan's constant moans drove his tongue faster and faster as he slaved
away at her steaming, hungry crotch. He wanted her begging for it ...
literally screaming to be fucked when he was ready to ram his big cock
in her, and she was more than ready, now; he knew, however, that she
would be capable of multiple orgasms, if she let herself go, so he was
not worried that she might cum while he was still licking her; she
would cum again and again with his cock in her cunt. He liked it that
way!
Suddenly, she tangled her fingers in his graying hair, guiding his face
to the palpitating opening of her cuntal passage, pulling him in tight
between her widespread legs, close contact and he stabbed his long
tongue into the soft-rimmed flesh, flicking at it teasingly for a
moment, then withdrawing to trace around the ragged, coraline edges.
With sex-crazed strength, she forced him in closer, pressing his mouth
directly over the snug portal of the demanding hole in her squirming
crotch, and as his lips rounded and covered the clasping, palpitant
opening, he thrust his tongue deep down into it, flicking in and out
with a set rhythm in imitation of a fucking cock; a low, guttural,
almost animal groan emitted from her lips and her warm, trembling
thighs closed convulsively around either side of his moving head. He
could feel the moist flesh of her satiny smooth cunt walls as they
slipped wetly around his long, extended tongue, the lining of her
vagina opening and closing in a tiny sucking motion of its own,
attempting to pull his tongue deeper and deeper into its moist depths.
Her heels, in his crouching back, pushed him down hard, pressing his
body into the fleshy trap of her open thighs; he could barely breathe,
his nosed mashed tight against the tiny, erect button of her sex,
above, his tongue, below, savoring the alkaline flavor of the flowing
juices of her lust. God! It was inciting his cock to a throbbing
hardness he didn't believe was possible. Never had he been able to hold
himself back this long before as he brought a woman almost to the peak
of climax before shoving the rock-hardness of his prick in her and
bringing them both to the rapturous, soaring heights of sexual release.
He had to get it in her pretty damned soon or he would explode his jism
all over the place.
The young wife's body was lost, consumed in the ecstatic fires that
raged, sensually, in her. Every muscle of her body tensed as she
strained her hips upward, pushing up toward the excitation of the
maddening probe at the junction of her thighs. It was magnificent! It
was beautiful beyond her imagination; first the feather ... now his
licking tongue brought her pleasure from out of this world.
Her updrawn legs scissored, opened and closed around the tormenting
head licking gluttonously at her flaming cunt. The cords of her neck
stood out, strainingly, as she pulled with superhuman strength against
the back of his head.
"OOoooh! OOOOOooohhhhh! AAAaaggggggh!" she groaned in ecstasy of
beginning release, as she realized that orgasm would come to her with
the licking of her cunt only, and she splayed her legs wider and ground
her pelvis up into his face to give him greater access to her cunt that
roared with the flames of hell. "Go on! Don't stop! Oh, God ... don't
stop licking me! Lick me! Lick my cunt!"
There came a roaring in her ears and she was one with the lacy canopy
of the trees overhead, the birds that flitted and twittered there; her
home was the blue sky ... and she was in it and of it, the rapture of
space and of the deeps in one ... one soaring climax that described a
parabola of the infinite and the finite and she wanted it to go on and
on forever. She screamed with the sweet, intolerable delight of her
transport, and when it was over she lay gasping for breath, her eyes
glazed, her body jerking convulsively as wave after wave of welcome
euphoria, well-being and relief flooded through her. Gradually, her
senses returned and she was still on the ground, lying on her bath
towel, the same trees overhead that filtered the sunlight on them in
ever-changing patterns of light and shadow.
Andy watched her as she climaxed. She had come too early, he decided
... maybe he had gone on licking her for too long.
She's had her fun ... now I'll have mine!
He turned her over to her stomach, and she didn't resist. Her willpower
was, seemingly, drained from her by the power of her orgasm. He leaned
down to kiss the full, smooth, rounded buttocks; his teeth nipped at
her with sharp, little playful bites. She felt him draw the smooth,
rounded orbs apart with his hands and he licked the soft, fleshy
crevice between them. She felt the stretching strain on her anal
opening as he pulled the skin around it. Suddenly, she felt obscenely
naked and defenseless as he hovered over the deep red hole of her back
passage, but it didn't seem to matter, really ... nothing seemed to
matter, to her, any longer.
Then, she felt him dip a finger into the viscid moisture of her vagina
and spread it on her tightly clenched anus, lubricating it for the
finger that now probed at the puckered, tight little portal.
"Spread your legs!" he ordered. She obeyed him, splaying her legs far
to either side. His finger circled the opening before he prodded it
into her. She winced with the sudden, unexpected pain, jumping forward,
squirming away from the goad in her backside as he strained to shove it
into her, and suddenly it was in her, not hurting as she had expected;
rather, the unnatural entrant into her rectum was sending sensations of
erotic, salacious pleasure through her trembling body.
He moved the probing digit around in the tight, expanding hole, sawing
it in and out, widening and stretching the tiny passage more and more.
She found herself, unaccountably, shoving her hips back, wriggling
them, lewdly, her fingernails digging into the black, moist earth. He
forced a second finger in, and she wailed aloud with the pain of it,
attempting to crawl away from him; he followed, pinning her down with
the palm of his other hand in the small of her back. For a moment, his
hand was still, allowing her backside to adjust to the larger size,
then the fingers began to work together inside her tightly clinging
rectum as he deliberately stretched and expanded the resilient flesh.
Her mouth fell open and she began to moan, excitedly, as she undulated
her pelvis back onto the strange invaders, a sense of masochistic and
abject subjugation sweeping over her, enveloping her with the pure
delight of the pleasure-pain.
Feeling the muscles begin to relax, Andy pulled his fingers out of her,
the rubbery skin of her anal passage clinging to them and making an
obscene, sucking, hissing noise as they popped out.
"Get on your knees!" he rasped. "Get your ass up in the air ... quick!"
Obediently, she drew her knees up under her, presenting him with the
smooth rounded hemispheres of her buttocks, and she felt the hot, hairy
warmth of his loins as he came between them. A delicious shiver of
anticipation surged through her, as she felt the breadth of his red-
cowled cock resting within the crevice of her ass, and from her upside-
down position, she could look down between her legs to where his heavy,
sperm-loaded balls hung down in their sac, below. Impulsively, she
reached back through the arch of her white, tapering legs and cupped
them in her hand, caressing and teasing them.
"Put it in for me!" he hissed, and without hesitation, she reached up
to grasp his throbbing rod of hardened cock, the enormous size of it
apparent to her, for the first time, as she found that she could not
encircle it. It was huge!
She held her breath as he clutched at her waist, beginning to pull her
back against him, and she placed the knob of the lust-inflated cudgel
against the tight, hairless portal of her backside. She felt him begin
to shove at her, the tip beginning to worm into that forbidden passage
when she began to realize that it would never fit. She could never take
that thing in her rectum! He strained with redoubled efforts to force
an entrance; suddenly, he flexed his hips, driving the blood-engorged
head into the smooth, softness of her anus. She screamed, the sound of
it resounding and echoing through the primeval forest ... the sound of
primitive fear ... and lust. Frantically, she tried to pull away from
him, but he held her tight. She could not escape the crush of his
powerful hands.
"Oh, Dear God! It hurts ... too much! You're too big! You'll split me!"
she screamed.
... But, he ignored her pleas, shoving, mercilessly onward, as he
hugged her hips to him, forcing his cock ever deeper and deeper into
the tightness of that tiny, virginal back passage.
"Push back! Push back ... against me!" he rasped. "Shake your ass!
It'll go in!"
She couldn't think. There was only pain ... unbearable pain that
permeated her loins, spreading like poison in her belly ... an
unbelievable agony that seared her body-mind. It was as if a huge,
unpeeled log had been rammed into her body.
"Back! Back! Shove your ass back!" he snarled in frustration, beads of
sweat beginning to form on his brow.
She pushed, straining back at him, opening her asshole with deliberate,
mind-shattering will, and his enormous rod surged into the spongy,
resistant flesh of her backside without mercy, pushing waves of pink,
tortured rectal lining ahead of it. She groaned and groaned again in
ear-shattering peals of sound, as she felt sure that she had been split
asunder, a vision of the punishment meted out in olden times flashing
through her crazed brain. She felt like one of those ancients who were
drawn by the legs up onto a sharpened stake and then set upright in the
ground ... left to die a horrible soul-wrenching death!
"AAAAaaaagggghhhh!" she groaned as his pelvis smacked with stinging
force against the softness of her smoothly rounded buttocks. She heard
him whine in pain and passion as he began to move in and out of the
soft tightness of her resistant rectum.
Slowly, by degrees, the torment of that unbearable pain lessened, and a
certain masochistic yet erotic stimulation began to meld with it. She
clenched her teeth, grindingly, her head wagging from side to side, her
hair, shining gold, in the sifting sunlight hanging down almost to the
ground and covering her face in hopeless entanglement, as he rammed
into her again and again ... and yet again.
She was being sodomized!
The dawning realization came to her that she was suffering a final
debasement ... that a most obscene, vile act was being performed upon
her defenseless body, and her shame flooded over her, enveloping her,
pinning her, helplessly, immobile, unable to think straight, to winnow
out her feelings and thoughts, rearrange them into some logical
sequence or system of reasoning; she tried to think, but each time he
thrust into her, brutally, driving her forward, she braced herself on
hands and knees and squirmed herself back onto his beautiful, ravishing
cock until she was filled to overflowing with an all-encompassing
feeling of masochistic joy. The pain in her backside had now become a
strangely pleasurable thing to her. Uncontrollably, not knowing why she
should do it, she began to rock backwards and forwards, vigorously, in
time with his rampaging, primal movements. She found her undulant body
moving in perfect harmony with him, her buttocks scribing tiny circle
as she moved back against him, absorbing the great length and breadth
of his cock into her sensate rear passage. The excitement had begun to
mount within her, and she reached back under the cusp of her loins to
the swinging balls, below, caressing them with her fingers as he
pounded into her.
Blinding sweat poured down Andy Sloan's face as he labored to satisfy
his demanding prick buried in the spongy depths of her clenching
rectum. He watched with fascination as the pink flesh of the tight,
round hole drew back with his cock, greedily clasping at it,
imprisoning him there. He grinned with sadistic delight as his balls
smacked heavily with a flat slapping noise against her coraline cunt
each time his prick was sunk to the hilt in her widespread crevice. He
watched enthralled, as his white, throbbing cock disappeared all the
way up her undulant ass with every rampaging plunge, leaving none of
his great length visible to the eye as it was absorbed full length into
the tight resilient channel, straining to burst right up into her
bowels.
His balls had begun to palpitate with almost unbearable pain; he had
waited too long, and his prick felt as though it would burst like a
gas-filled balloon laden beyond its bursting point. Each time he thrust
into her, his sensate cock felt as though he were ramming it into a
meat grinder. He knew that he was almost ready to come, the searing,
acid-like pain back, behind the root of his cock made him feel that a
great lake of sperm, damned behind the tumescent flesh of his penis was
ready to breach and flood from him in a huge tide of spewing white, hot
liquid. She was moaning, crazily, her beautiful face flushed, her eyes
rolling in her head and she panted in short gasping breaths of pure
animal passion.
She groaned, "Yes ... oh, yeeessss! Fuck it ... hard! Fuck me! Fuck my
ass! Hard! Hard! Hard!"
Her words incited him even more; he could cum, now, any time he wanted
to shoot it into her. He withdrew his prick to the tip, watched her
tight, elastic anus pucker around him, but still gripping him, tightly;
then, he rammed in one, long, smooth stroke all the way to his pelvis.
Joan whined in ecstasy of building rapture. He rammed, again, pulling
her back, simultaneously, onto his lust-incited cock, the sheath of her
rectum sliding up his rock-hard rod with the ease of a well-oiled
machine, and she screamed out her lewd lust to the forested hillsides.
Then it began for him! The boiling magma of his sperm came roiling
through the length of his cock, hosing from him in never-ending jets of
white semen, viscous and hot, jetting far-far up into the forever-
stretched channel of her asshole. His body jerked, convulsively, his
mouth hanging open, his eyes glazed, as he felt the blasting force of
his ejaculate spew from him; he slammed into her one more time, pulling
her buttocks back tight, tighter into him, his cock skewering into her
another millimeter of depth as he froze, immobile, and let the
pleasurable sensations of his orgasm swarm over him, his sensate cock
pumping wildly, below, draining his bloated balls of their too-long-
held load of lewd sperm.
"God! I'm summing! Fuck back! Pound your ass back at me," he cried, his
voice rasping in his throat.
Joan, beneath his battering assault, felt the first delicious spurts of
the hot, white sperm spew up into the depths of her backside. It
splashed through her body like a giant tidal wave, the pure force of
his wildly ejaculating cock hosing into her touching off her own racing
climax, the second he had given her, and she screamed with the
voluptuous rapture of wanton abandonment, as a great surging gush of
heretofore unknown pleasure rippled through her, and she felt his hot,
thick semen running down the crevice of her wide-split buttocks to the
furrow of her naked cunt, be low.
Grunting, Andy collapsed on top of her, bearing her to the ground with
his weight. He moaned in satiated agony.
"God! That was good! That tight little asshole almost milked me dry!"
Beneath him, Joan mewled and gurgled, gasping for breath.
I didn't know it was possible! Oh, God! That such a vile thing ...
could give such pleasure ... is almost unbelievable!
Shame and degradation swarmed over her, again, the shame of it
reddening her cheeks. She stirred beneath him.
"Let me up, now ... please."
He rolled from her, his rapidly deflating cock pulling from her with a
hissing pop.
"Did you like that, Doll," he asked her.
"It was ... undeniably sexy ..." she said. "But, horribly vile ... and
obscene! I-I couldn't ever endure it... again!"
Chapter 5
Gayle Sloan watched her husband until he was out of sight in the trees
and heaved a sigh of relief. She was glad that Andy was coming out of
his terrible depression; his renewed interest in her, as well as his
present headlong pursuit of Joan Wright, was a healthy sign that he was
recovering from the devastating blow to his ego when he had been
replaced by Buzz Henson as leader of this small band of aviation
castaways.
She knew that Buzz was working in the plane; she had noted, after he
had changed jeans, that he had gone inside the plane carrying a small
kit of tools. She had expected him to go back up on the ridge, but the
look of agitation on his face as he had busied himself around the
crushed hulk had indicated that his present task was more important
than keeping the sky-watch; additionally, of course, there were the
three signal fires that had been laid out first, in the middle of the
small, natural meadow where they had come down. These fires were to be
lit, anyway, at the first sight or sound of any aircraft in the skies
around them.
Rising, she looked through her baggage until she found a simple cotton
dress. Swiftly, she stripped nude, spent a few moments in freshening
up, applying a dab of make-up and running a brush, hastily through her
lush chestnut hair. Satisfied with her hasty preparations, she put on
the dress, buttoned the buttons down the front, prudently, leaving the
two top buttons unfastened. She looked down at her body to see the
effect and smiled to herself as she observed the deep cleft of her
full-mounding breasts, her hands going to them to smooth and massage,
the nipples coming erect against the light material of her dress; then
her hands moved down over the svelte curves of her hips, molding the
dress to her figure.
Without hesitation, Gayle walked across the clearing to the hulk of the
airplane. She found Buzz seated in the passenger's seat just behind the
pilot's seat; he had the plane's transmitter partially disassembled,
parts and tools were lying on the opposite seat. He looked up as she
approached the shattered door that barely hung from the opening. His
face was grim.
"Oh ... hello, Mrs. Sloan ..." he greeted her, glumly.
"Why so down at the mouth ... Buzz? Are you worried ...?
"Yes ... quite frankly, I am," he answered. "I thought I'd try to get
this transmitter going ... to see if I can get us out of here! ... It's
getting too dangerous!"
She shivered. "I should say ... bears and mountain lions ... who knows
what else ...!"
"That's enough ...!"
Peering inside, she noted that he had removed the two rear passenger
seats and had spread a worn sleeping bag on the floor. This, she
decided was where he had been sleeping, and she found herself wishing
she had known it sooner; however, her husband's funky mood and avowed
dislike for Buzz, had served to keep her from becoming better
acquainted with the young pilot. When Andy's interest in Joan had
prompted him to follow her, she knew that everything was back to
normal.
"Can I watch ...?" she asked. "I know I'd be no help to you ... but
I'll promise to stay out of your way ... "
"Sure! ... Be my guest ...!"
Gayle held up her hands to him for help in getting in; he put the
transmitter chassis aside, rose from his seat and came to the door.
Grasping her hands, he hoisted her easily up to him, her dress hiking
up to reveal bare legs almost to her hips; the view was not wasted on
him, the startlingly white columns of her tapering thighs excited him
with their perfect loveliness. When she stood before him, he looked
down the valley of her magnificent breasts and knew instantly that they
too were equally unfettered. He stooped to move the parts and tools
from the seat opposite him to the co-pilot's seat. Wordlessly, he
indicated that she could sit.
"Thank you ..." she murmured as she sat down, crossing her legs
carefully, an expanse of white thigh showing, provocatively below the
hem of her dress.
Buzz picked up the transmitter, again, and studied it.
"I've worked this thing over pretty carefully, but I haven't been able
to locate the trouble, yet ... It'd help if I had some test equipment
... but ..." He shrugged. "Out here ...!
Seemingly impulsive, yet studiedly provocative, Gayle leaned toward him
with warm interest, her voice low, "Buzz ... we will get out ... won't
we?"
"Of course ...!"
Her hand reached out to touch his knee. The electric, highly erotic
shock, struck at his groin.
"I couldn't talk to you ... before ... My husband was somewhat peeved
... with you ..."
"Peeved is a mild description ... He hates my guts!" Buzz supplied.
"Well ... yes, but I've wanted to tell you ... even though I love my
husband, dearly ... I think you were right ...!" Her hand moved on his
knee, lightly, searing him with its warmth.
Leaning over, Buzz deposited the transmitter chassis on the pilot's
seat; as he half-rose to do so, her hand did not move, but his
twisting, rising motion brushed her hand up his thigh. She saw the
bulge in his pants and her hand swept upward, feather-touching him. His
penis throbbed once as she touched him, then he sat back down. She
withdrew her hand, quickly. His face was tinged with pink. He faced
her.
"Do you always play games ...?" he asked her.
"I love them!"
"Swinging games ...?"
"... And perform and do ...!"
"Both of you?" he queried.
"Yes!"
"Is that why he went stalking Joan a while ago...?"
"Yes ...! He saw you and Joan ... on the ridge, this afternoon ...!"
she smiled.
"... And you're ... stalking me ...?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Do you object ...?" she countered.
"Hell no!" he assured her. "I just wanted to know the ground rules ..."
He reached out to the remaining buttons, still fastened, of her dress
and dexterously undid them, liberating the full, round orbs of her
satin-smooth breasts to his gaze and touch. He cupped them in his
hands, kneading and massaging their magnificent fleshy firmness and
rolling the hardening nipples between his fingers.
Gayle came off her seat, sinking to her knees between his legs, her
face upturned for his kiss. His mouth came down on her lips, hard, his
tongue stabbing into her throat, and she sucked and nipped at it, as it
explored her mouth.
His hands were busy. He pulled the dress down off her shoulders, she
helping, shrugging the garment from her until she was nude from the
waist up, the cooling air of late afternoon washing over her and she
shivered with the delightful sensations.
Now, her hands were equally, busily employed. She reached, found,
zipped, his fly coming open; then, her hand dipped, found and
liberated, bringing his hardened cock out to feel and fondle. She
gasped against his voracious mouth, unbelieving, as she felt the girth
and length of the rounded rod of near steel she caressed. Her hands
caused it to throb to greater hardness as her slim fingers explored,
her nails gently scratching up and down its length; then a hand reached
to cup his testicles and she used her nails, again, to titillate and
taunt. It was his turn to gasp, and his prick jerked, involuntarily,
expanding and growing rock-hard in her light-fingered grasp. Suddenly,
she squeezed hard, using both hands, and began to twist and wring, her
hands going in opposite directions as though she were wringing water
from a rinsed garment. The excruciating, erotic sensations swarming
through his member brought yet another short, sharp intake of breath
and a moan was wrung from deep in his throat. He broke the kiss and
rose suddenly to his feet.
Gayle had to release his cock as he stood to his feet, but she quickly
recovered it, her mouth following her hands. She milked back the loose
fold of the foreskin to reveal the red, blood-engorged head, her lips
sought it to kiss and lave, her tongue working, savoring and teasing,
while, above her, Buzz stripped off his shirt and undershirt, flinging
them into the pilot's seat beside him. He looked down to see her pink
tongue licking him almost as a cat licks its fur.
"Suck it!" he breathed, and her lips quickly encircled the smooth,
rubbery head, her tongue beginning to run in circles around the raised
ridges, then flattening to suck like a nursing infant; finally the
sinuous tip of her teasing lingual member tried to enter the slit in
the crown of the gently throbbing head. Buzz' hips moved gently,
undulating back and forth, and she began to absorb more and more of
him, her lips sliding down, down, over him, until more than half of his
throbbing penis had been wetly sheathed in the warm wet confines of her
working mouth and throat; the delicious sensations cascading over him
were wild in the extreme, and, God! He had to have this wild little
bitch ... drive his cock into her squirming pussy ... now!
"God! That's enough!" he groaned, reaching down to hoist her up to him,
she reluctantly forced to release his cock from her avid mouth.
Quickly, he stripped the dress down over her hips, tossing it
carelessly onto the sleeping bag, his arms encircling her lush, full
hips, fingers digging into the twin, globoid buttocks, smooth and fully
rounding under his salacious hands. Pulling her hard into him, he
slipped his hardened rod between her legs into the soft curls of pubic
hair lining her cunt-slit and moved it there, feeling the smooth,
lubricious moistness and the palpitating warmth she generated. The
spiky hardness of her nipples thrust into his chest as her arms went
around him, her hands smoothing across the muscularity of his broad
back, then dropping to the waistband, trying to slide her hands down
over his trim, flat buttocks. Now, her hands were busy as she unbuckled
and shoved his jeans down to entangle his legs about the knees, her
hands returning to slide down the waist band of his shorts to grasp his
slim buttocks to pull in hard until their pubes were in contact and the
head of his cock nestled solidly all the way between her legs and back
against the tiny, tight aperture of her anus.
"You want it ... don't you?" he rasped through a dry throat. "You want
me ... to fuck you ...?"
"Oh, God ... yes! I've got to have that wonderful cock!" she groaned.
Fuck me ... quick! ... Before I go out of my mind!"
He released her and she stumbled to the sleeping bag on the floor,
lowering herself to it to lie on her back, her hands going to her
breasts to smooth and fondle, then sliding down over the firm whiteness
of her belly and thighs; meanwhile, Buzz flung off his jeans and shorts
to stand completely nude, his hardened sex rod standing out at an acute
angle. Her eyes locked on it with a lewd smile of anticipation.
"I don't believe it ...!" she gasped.
"You will ... when you get it in you!" he grinned in anticipation.
Gayle held up her arms, invitingly, to him, and Buzz lowered himself
down on top of her. The moment his flesh touched her she shivered with
sensual delight, her limbs trembling with delicious anticipation, and
he gritted out between his teeth, "I'm going to fuck you until you
can't walk! you cheating little bitch!"
"Please ... lover! That's the way I want it ... wild and hard!"
Their mouths locked, tongues probed and savored and she rubbed her
undulant body against him, her hands reaching down to between them,
stroking his hard cock as it throbbed and jerked in her hand.
His mouth left her lips and moved on, voraciously, down over her neck
and shoulders to the magnificent hemispheres of her smooth, milk-white
breasts, their coral nipples hard and erect where he sucked and nipped,
bringing gasps of mixed pleasure and pain from her lips; then his mouth
moved down and away, and he slid down over her body, his hands
replacing his mouth on the full mounded orbs, kneading and massaging,
his strong-fingered digging bringing her a mass of electric, erotic,
sensations. Now his lips were on her ribs, below the breasts, on down
to her firm, flat belly, his tongue teasing and exploring her navel,
briefly, then moving away, following the line of down, straight down,
until they came to the triangle of reddish hair mounding there. He slid
his hands under her smooth buttocks and lifted them to him, his tongue
reaching out, now, to explore the inner softness of her thighs, her
loins a veritable whirlpool of rapturous expectation as she anticipated
the exquisite sensation of his tongue on and in her searing cunt.
... And, suddenly, his tongue shot into her, darting snake-like into
the liquid depths of her vaginal opening, sending a sharp, shivering
spasm of uncontrolled delight up her spine to meld into her fiery loins
with the fury of a desert lightning storm.
"OOooh! Wonderful ...! Magnificent!" she moaned.
He licked and sucked, drawing her clitoris up into his mouth, it coming
to full erectness under his sensuously searching tongue. Gayle wanted
him inside her; she wanted his huge cock drubbing into her, turning her
cunt inside out ... destroying her with its massive power ... subduing
and subjugating her ... and she wanted it, now ... with all her being.
She pulled at his hair, her eyes closed, the ecstasy of the moment
overpowering her.
"Put it in! Oh, God ... put that big cock of yours in my fucking cunt
... and fuck me! Fuck me ... to death with it!"
She felt as if she were nothing but cunt, throbbing and aching for
fulfillment. Nothing mattered but sex ... cock and cunt! There was only
the lovely, whirling, exultantly exhilarating sensations of her
vibrant, pulsating vagina. She was cunt; he was cock; and that's all
that existed.
His lean body slithered up her, wedging her thighs wide apart. She was
wet, flowered wide open to his entrance. Her cunt was like a moist,
yawning cavern ready to be stuffed to overflowing with cock and more
cock.
Smoothly, he came into her, the great hardened rod bursting through the
resilient, moist portal, suddenly, shatteringly, spreading the coraline
walls as it raced ahead, plunging far up to the seat of her being,
flicking past her uterus to crash against the back wall of her warm,
moist vaginal passage, bringing her instantaneous pleasure-pain and she
screamed a long scream of sensual ecstasy, her mouth open, eyes glazed,
thighs quivering as she received him to the fullest, his pubic bone
smacking loudly, painfully into hers; below, his balls swung up hard to
smack into the smoothly rounded protuberances of her anal crevice. He
began to move it in her, in and out, back and forth, never stopping,
always probing, to the sides, up and down, farther, ever farther into
her, pressing her downward, pinning her to the sleeping bag, the great
cock skewering her, screwing and fucking into her cunt like a demon
from the underworld released upon the earth to feed and gorge upon her.
She pinned back her thighs, mashing them to her breasts, exposing the
feast-set table of her loins to the feeding monster of his foraging
cock. Her buttocks wriggled, undulantly, moving in counterpoint to him;
together they composed a great fugue with one central blazing theme as
they moved closer and closer to the final smashing stretto.
Her loins blazed, the flames obliterating all thought, except those of
joyous rapture, and she was aware of only the wet, noisy coupling
below. She was, vaguely, aware of his hands, running over her like
licking flames over a hearth-log, of his lips on her mouth, his tongue
in her throat then on her breasts, sucking and biting ... biting until
tiny rivulets of blood sprang from the coraline nipples, the
masochistic pleasure of it heightening the overall soaring ecstasy in
her heat-seared cunt and his body covered her, the hot friction of him
delicious as he swarmed against her, his lean young body straining and
laboring to bury his huge prick in her to the very hilt on every
downward plunging thrust.
They both heard it ... the far-away throb of powerful airplane engines!
Rescue ... release from their entrapment in the Lion's Paw Mountains
was there, flying overhead, but neither paid attention ... nor did they
care. Nothing mattered but this flaming, soul destroying passion that
caught them up in a boiling cauldron, melding their flesh, blending it
into one flaming rapture of imminent release. He filled her, filled her
and fulfilled her, completely, as though his cock was a missing piece
of herself, and she wished that she could go on and on, forever and
even with his wonderful prick in her. If she could have that one thing,
she would be happy for the rest of her days, wanting nothing ...
needing nothing else in this world. Someone else would have to light
the signal fires!
She gasped, words coming out, almost incoherently, as she panted,
reaching out for her orgasm ... the sweet release from the agony of her
searing, sensate cunt.
"Screw me ... Buzz! Fuck me forever and ever! Oh! OOh! That's wonderful
... beautiful! All the way ... Buzz! Shove it in ... hard! Deep! That's
it! OOOoooh! I'm just about ready ... to cum ...! Oh! I am... I'm
cuuuummmiiinnngggg! AAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaggggghhhh!"
Gayle writhed and panted her release under him. She heard his wailing
breath. He was going to cum right behind her. His cock was a punishing
cudgel as it rampaged in and out of her, relentlessly, making her
tingle through her whole body, from the tips of her toes to the back of
her skull. Suddenly, his hurtling body stiffened with one final,
slamming plunge into the viscid moistness of her cunt and he was
spewing his sperm far, far up into her, his cock jetting and pumping
wildly while delicious sensations of relaxing euphoria swept over him.
He grunted with satisfaction as his prick continued to spasm for a few
moments; then, he dropped his full weight on her, collapsing, after
that final, frantic effort.
It was a dream, a heavenly vision ... to have such exquisite happiness
... to have it reside in your own body ... to be able to share it with
another person, and Gayle reflected on how unbelievably glorious it wax
to thus enjoy sex to its fullest.
How wonderful---she thought---we're the King and Queen of Sex, for this
moment ... for this space in time; we reign supreme ... the Queen of
Cunt and the King of Cock!
They were quiet for the space of several moments. Experimentally, Gayle
contracted the muscles of her vagina, squeezing the length of him with
an exquisite, sensuous sensation.
He moaned, "Great! That's great! Do it again!"
She did, and he became hard and ready, again.
"Do you want me to fuck you, again ... little girl?" ~
"Oh, God ... yes! Don't stop! Don't ever stop!" she gasped.
... And, together, they began to explore each other's bodies, to learn,
to know, giving and taking, their pleasure coming in waves of sensation
to their tinglingly sensual beings.
* * *
Jim Wright watched Gayle Sloan as she walked to the crashed airplane,
was aware of the murmur of voices as she talked to Buzz Henson. He was
feeling much better, as a matter of fact, he was feeling better than he
was letting Joan know. Surreptitiously, he had been sitting up, even
standing up a little, exercising to regain muscle tone, knowing that he
still had a job to do and must do it soon. He didn't like to deceive
Joan; he would have willingly told her all, but he had been pledged to
absolute secrecy in the matter. Now, he realized that this was the
first time, since he had been fully conscious, that the Sloan's shelter
was completely unoccupied. This was his chance!
Rising to his feet, he stretched, finding that he was a little weak;
his head hurt, but the codeine tablets was keeping the pain under
control. Perhaps, tomorrow, he would try to dispense with taking them
as often, then the following day, try to cut them out all together.
Under no circumstances, did he want to become in any way dependent upon
them.
Quietly, he moved across the grassy space between his shelter and the
Sloan's, keeping a wary eye and his ear cocked for the approach of
anyone. Carefully, he searched through the various items of luggage
belonging to Andy Sloan, his boss. Finally, he found it, a bulky
waterproof package; he opened it only enough to reveal the contents to
his disbelieving eyes. Roughly, he estimated the amount at between
forty and fifty thousand dollars. Whistling softly to himself, he re-
wrapped the package precisely as he had found it, placed all the other
items of clothing back on top and walked back to his own shelter,
sitting down to think through what he must do.
There has to be a reason! A man like Andy doesn't take chances like
this ... with his career and reputation ... unless there's a pretty
strong motive. God! I wouldn't have thought he would do something like
that!
He remembered the day almost two months before when he had been
summoned to the private office of Mr. Kitchen. Frank Winfield Kitchen,
one of the senior partners in the firm. As he entered the sumptuous
office he found Henry Knox Wilson, the other third of the company,
present; however, Andy Sloan was not there. He was in Los Angeles for
the day, attending to some company business. After some small talk, the
solution to a minor problem was solved for Jim, and he prepared to
leave, assuming that his business with the two architects was
completed. Frank Kitchen stabbed him with an arresting look from his
ice-blue eyes beneath white shaggy eyebrows. His craggy face was grim.
"Jimmy ... Hank ... that is, Mr. Wilson and I have a problem we want
you to help solve!" he said, bluntly.
"Of course, Sir ... if I'm able ..." Jim began.
"It's not concerned with architecture!" Henry Wilson added.
"I'm afraid I don't understand ..."
Frank Kitchen continued, "We think we can trust you! We're going to lay
the cards on the table ... then you can make the decision, for
yourself, whether you want to play ... or not!"
The two men told him they were suspicious of Andy Sloan. There were
funds unaccounted for, everybody had been checked out, and everything
pointed to Andy. They wanted him to cultivate Sloan, try to find out
what he was doing with the money, report to them what he found out;
they would handle it from there. It was only a matter of time before
the accountants would begin to ask embarrassing questions. They wanted
to be ready for that day. Would Jim help them? He made the decision on
the spot and was pledged to absolute secrecy.
Thus it was that Jim began to be included in Golf dates with Andy ...
invited to his home for cocktails and dinners, and finally, was invited
on this camping and fishing trip to northern Montana. The suggestion
that they swap wives was surprising and monstrous to him, but he agreed
to it, reluctantly, knowing that he would never go through with it.
Before, that time ever arrived, he hoped to have definite proof of the
man's perfidy. Of course, he had not had told Joan any of this; he had
to be constantly on the alert not to say anything to her that would
reveal any of the situation to her.
The rending crash of the airplane in this wilderness had left him
injured and unable to function, until now. The slight concussion, with
its debilitating pain, had put him out of circulation for two or was it
three-days ... he couldn't remember exactly. Events had swirled around
him, dimly, and he had been aware of very little until this afternoon.
He wondered where Joan could be. Buzz and Gayle were in the plane. Andy
and Joan were unaccounted for, and he felt some irritation and a
foreboding; he was uneasy.
I just hope to hell that Andy hasn't tried to take advantage of Joan,
somehow! He's a real lecher ... if I ever saw one ...!
Suddenly, the sound of airplane engines throbbed down from the sky. He
stood to his feet and surveyed the blue. Nothing! Looking toward the
wrecked plane, he expected Buzz and Gayle to come out excitedly to help
him light the signal fires. When there was no stir in the crashed hulk,
he reached into his pocket for cigarette lighter, flicked it to make
sure it worked and began walking toward the three piles of brush Buzz
had stacked in the middle of the glade. Glancing back over his
shoulder, he still saw no activity in the plane on the part of Buzz and
Gayle.
What a hell of a time to be having a party!
Jim knew he should be running to get to the signal fires, but he still
felt weak; it was frustrating. He called over his shoulder.
"Buzz! Buzz! There's a plane! A plane in the sky!"
It seemed to him forever, that long walk across the glade, but he made
it! Swiftly, he knelt to light the tinder, going to each of the three
piles of brush; soon, he stepped back to watch them burn, giving off
three columns of smoke, an international distress signal. Anxiously, he
scanned the sky, trying to spot the plane whose engines still rumbled
down to him.
Probably a military transport ... older piston job! But, flying pretty
high!
* * *
Joan had entered the stream, again, to bathe. Somehow, she felt she
must ... to wash away some of the shame, if not from her soul, at
least, from her body.
Andy had watched her as she dressed. She was silent, uncommunicative.
When she was finished dressing, she simply walked away up the stream,
heading back to camp.
"Hey! Wait up! I'll walk with you ..." Andy called.
She turned. "I'd prefer to go back ... alone ... Mr. Sloan!"
"Oh, so it's Mater Sloan ... now? That's mighty uppity from a little
bitch whose just had the shit fucked out of her by her husband's boss,"
he sneered.
"Yes!" she grimaced at his lewd remark. "And it will remain that way!"
He arose and walked toward her.
"Don't come near me!" she warned.
They both heard it! The sound of airplane engines.
Joan's mouth was wreathed in an instant smile.
"Thank God! It's an airplane!"
Swiftly, she turned and ran toward the signal fires. As she burst from
the trees into the glade, she saw that the fires had been lit, and a
man stood near them gazing skyward. She couldn't believe her eyes.
It's Jimmy! Jimmy lit the fires! ... But, where is Buzz?
She ran!
Breathlessly, she called, "Jim! Oh, Jim! You're up! ..."
Suddenly, she was in his arms, her heart pounding.
"You lit the fires ...?"
"Of course ...!"
"But where's Buzz ...?"
"Busy ... I guess. I just happened to get here ... first!"
Together, they scanned the sky. Suddenly, Joan screamed, "Look! I think
I see something!" She pointed to the Southwest.
Jim looked, saw the glint of sunshine on bright metal.
"You're right Joan! There it is ... but he's a long ways from here and
up pretty high! The chances of his seeing us are one in a thousand!"
"Then ... there's no hope ...?"
"I wouldn't say that ... If they see the smoke, they might make a
report on it ... but as high as they are ... I ..."
He stopped dead in mid-sentence, his eyes focused over his wife's
shoulder.
"My God!" he exclaimed.
Giving Joan a slight shove, Jim ordered, "Get on the other side of the
fires!"
She looked where he pointed. Andy Sloan trotted toward them across the
meadow, unknowing, unaware that behind him and gaining on him was the
Grizzly Bear.
Joan screamed.
Her husband shoved her, roughly, rasping out at her, "Move!"
Numbly, she obeyed.
Jim yelled, "Andy! Behind you! The bear ...!"
Andy glanced over his shoulder and began to run toward them and the
safety of the fires. Jim remembered the pistol tucked into the
waistband of his trousers; he deployed, running to the side about
thirty feet. He saw that Andy was still safe, keeping ahead of the
bear. With the big pistol in his hand he estimated the distance at
eighty yards; he considered it risky ... out of range for a hand gun.
Suddenly, the older man tripped and fell. He was about fifty yards
away. He lay stunned, gasping for breath.
Jim sat down, braced his elbows between his knees, held the revolver in
a steady two-hand grip, aimed and fired, trying to place his shot in
the body. The bear was hit. Suddenly, it reared to its hind feet and
charged upon the fallen man, and Jim saw that he had wounded the animal
in the left front leg. Now the bear presented a larger target and Jim
put two more bullets into the body. The bear still charged, seemingly
unbothered by his wounds, intent only upon the man on the ground.
Jim's next shot blended with the high, heavy report of a high-powered
rifle in the hands of Buzz Henson. The bear crashed to the ground a
bare five feet from Andy Sloan.
Dumbly, he looked from the bear, quivering and dying to where Jim
Wright sat and was finally aware of Buzz Henson when he arrived,
breathless, to finish the bear with a shot in the head. Jim walked over
to the carcass. He was still trembling from the excitement.
Andy arose from the ground. He looked at the two men and said, "Jim ...
Buzz ... words fail me ... I-I can only say ... thanks ..."
"Just lucky ...!" Jim said.
"I was betting on you ... until you fell," Buzz added, jokingly.
The three men examined the dead bear. It was a young boar.
"Well ... we sure as hell won't starve, now!" Buzz said. "We'll have
bear steaks for dinner!"
Gayle had now joined Joan. The two women started toward the group of
men, but Buzz warned them back.
"It's not a very pretty sight!" he told them.
True to his word, Buzz brought steaks from the bear for the evening
meal, but somehow, it was only he and Gayle who ate, ravenously, of
them. Andy tried it, but didn't like the flavor. Jim ate a small
portion, but Joan could only bring herself to taste it. She found it
strong ... and definitely male!
Chapter 6
After they had eaten the evening meal, Jim, who was rapidly regaining
his strength, remarked that he was in need of exercise, and walked out
into the glade toward the smoldering fires.
"Don't go too far away ...!" Buzz warned.
"Hardly ... I'm not up to a hundred yard dash ... yet!" he returned.
Joan, whose duty it was to wash the dishes and cooking ware, looked up
as he arose. Quickly, she said, "Jimmy ... if you'll wait a few moments
... I'll go with you ..."
"I'll be all right, Joan, besides I've got my trusty shooting iron ...
Got to get some of the kinks out ..."
With true wifely concern, she said, "Please, be careful ... Darling
..."
"I will ..." he grumbled as he walked away into the rosy half-light of
the dying day.
She watched him go, her heart going with him; she was proud to be his
wife. It had taken her some time, after the shock of the excitement of
the bear, for her to realize that it was her husband, Jim, who had with
seeming calmness pumped three shots into the charging Grizzly Bear. To
be sure, Buzz had joined him in the final volley that had dropped the
bear dead in its tracks, but it was Jim, her Jim, who had faced the
first, deadly test, the big pistol bucking in his hand with deadly
accuracy.
The shame and humiliation Joan had experienced with Buzz and,
subsequently, with Andy, had been almost more than she could bear. She
had been a helpless tool of her emotions and passions, and she wax
frightened; of course there had been the transitory fulfillment of sex
... satiation as she had never known it. His job had almost ruined
their married life; Jim's driving ambition to rise to the top in his
chosen field of architecture had caught the attention of the partners
in the world-famous architectural firm of Sloan, Kitchen and Wilson of
San Francisco. They had hired him away from a staid old firm in the
Midwest; Jim had jumped at the chance to prove himself. He had,
literally, worked night and day, putting in long, overtime hours on his
assigned projects.
He always seemed to be too tired, at night; he fell into bed and slept,
his sex drive diminished to the point where Joan sometimes mused to
herself she might as well be a sister as a wife. She had heard often
about the development of such situations, a wife becoming a work widow,
hardly ever seeing her husband, almost never enjoying him in bed,
because the man was so tired he had no energy left to perform his
husbandly conjugal duties. Joan was sure it would never happen to them
... until it did. The weekends were the only times she could have him
to herself, but even then his work took him away from her most of the
time. She was hurt and confused, but she had decided to live with it,
sure in her own mind that it had to come to an end ... one way or
another!
She tried to rationalize away her actions in succumbing to the
temptations of sex and the idea of a sort of perverse revenge ... a
revenge of pent-up sexuality and of hurt, when she had accepted at face
value the allegation that Jim had in some way---for a reason as yet
known only to him---bargained her chastity away with his boss. She
vowed strongly that Jim would never know of her aberrant behavior;
further she vowed that there would never be another episode, telling
herself that it was the strange circumstances of the plane crash, the
resultant close relationships and her need to do something for her
husband that had opened up the pandora's box of wanton sex. She hoped,
fervently, now that he was ambulatory and gaining in strength so
rapidly ... that his libido would return to their mutual advantage.
Out here ... away from his work and all its pressures ... maybe we
could pick up the threads of our sex-life! I want him ... and need him
... so much! Jimmy is really the only man I could ever love ...!
Of course, she told herself, the reason she agreed to come along on
this trip ... was to regain Jimmy's love ... the sexual love they both
needed. Then, the bomb shell of the crash and his injury had exploded
in her face, and she hadn't the experience to handle the situation. She
had acted the fool. She would have to bear the burden of her own
mistakes in silence. Then, she remembered! She had made a foolish
assignation with Buzz ... for tonight!
Oh, God! What made me do a thing like that? I can't let him think ...
that I'm an-an adulterous wife of my own choosing! What can I do to get
out of it ...?
While she had been thinking about her problems, she had worked steadily
at her camp housekeeping tasks; now, she had completed her chores, and
she looked around for Jim. He was nowhere to be seen in the camp area.
She was worried, but she didn't want to alarm anyone, so she resolved
to go look for him herself. She felt a little thrill ... a hope that
she would find him feeling even better ... that she might be able to
interest her husband in some good old-fashioned love-making.
* * *
Soon after Jim had left the eating area, Buzz Henson excused himself
and headed for the plane to do a little more work on the radio
transmitter, while there was still some daylight left.
Andy went to his shelter to lie down. He told Gayle and Joan that he
still felt shaken up after his experience with the charging Grizzly
Bear.
"I still feel kind of queasy ..."
"I'll be with you in a little while, Andy," Gayle said.
Then, the older woman helped Joan for a few minutes, finally, pleading
a headache herself, and went to the lean-to to join her husband. She
flopped down on the sleeping bag next to him, leaned over and kissed
him, hungrily.
"Well ... " she asked, leaning back away from him. "How did you enjoy
her?"
"Great! I think she could learn to swing!"
"Not yet ...?"
"No ... It's too early ..." he judged. "But she'll come around! It'll
take a little more work with her."
"Pleasant work ... though! I couldn't teach Buzz a thing ... He's a
real stud!" she gushed.
"That's what I told you ... remember?"
"Yes ... lover! I'll always remember!"
"How about Jim?" he reminded. "He's up ... walking around, now."
"He might not feel up to it ..."
"I always figured, if a guy could walk ... he could also fuck!" Andy
observed. "Anyway ... you don't have to make him work for it!"
Gayle stood quickly to her feet. She looked out and saw that there was
still a waning half-light in the sky.
"Good idea!" she smiled. "I'm going to go look for him ... while
there's still a little daylight left ..."
She looked toward the cooking fire; Joan was still busy washing up the
dishes, unaware of anything else, as she concentrated on getting a
stubborn pot clean; then, Gayle walked from the camp, swiftly, quietly,
keeping the shelter between herself and Joan, heading slightly up
stream, then turning to walk downstream when she came to the bank. She
searched ahead of her as she walked. He was not hard to find; he was
sitting on a fallen log, resting... or deep in thought.
Jim saw her, recognized her, in the dim light as she came toward him
and wondered why she had searched him out; he was in no mood to talk to
anyone. He had been trying to think of a solution to the problem of
Andrew Sloan. The proof of the man's embezzlement of company funds lay
in a waterproof package of bank notes in the bottom of a soft duffel
bag in the Sloan's lean-to shelter, but there was no possibility of his
notifying Kitchen and Wilson. He would have to do the best he could
under the circumstances. The only saving grace of the present situation
was that he was in a position to know where Andy was at all times. The
man couldn't walk out of this place with the money, so, for the time,
at least, the money was safe.
His boss' wife came to where he sat, easing herself onto the log beside
him. She smiled.
"I'm glad I found you ... Jim ..."
He looked up at her with a query, "Oh?"
"Yes ... I-I ... wanted to tell you ... how very thankful I am for your
quick action today ..."
"Just luck ... Mrs. Sloan ..."
"Buzz said it was pretty good shooting ... three of your bullets were
in a six inch circle in the bear's chest! Where did you learn to shoot
like that ...?"
"In the army," he said. "It's one of the necessary skills they drum
into you ..."
She caught his tone of voice. "You don't like to shoot ...?"
"No! Guns are for killing! When I left Southeast Asia ... I swore I'd
never touch one, again ... but when Andy went down ... I knew I'd have
to kill the bear! It was a hard decision to make!"
Gayle put a trembling hand on his shoulder. Her voice was low. "For
Andy's sake ... I'm glad you made the right decision!" Her eyes misted.
Her lips quivered open, and she lifted her mouth to him to be kissed.
The realization of what she wanted came to him a beat late, but as she
melted into his arms with a moan, her lips, moist and soft, begging him
for his kiss, he dropped his mouth to hers, surprised at the avid,
emotional return. Her tongue flicked out to outline his lips, then
snaked inside to tantalize the inner, sensitive surfaces; finally,
bursting through the barrier of his teeth to collide and intertwine
with his own.
He was surprised and shocked; he had never really entertained a serious
idea of carrying through on his swap agreement with Andy; that was only
the key to clinching the invitation to accompany the Sloan's on this
trip.
Her mouth was sweet, vibrant ... sexy, and her probing tongue was
alive, moving, as it searched and sent its message, sensual and sinuous
to his very being, the center of life, his loins, where the
contracting, crawling sensation, the racing, instantly trapped blood
bringing him to throbbing, erect alertness, below, jerking and growing
moment by moment and bulging out between his legs, told him how long it
had been since he had made love to his wife. It surprised him, also,
because of the weakness he had experienced, earlier in the day, when
the walk across the glade to the signal fires had seemed so horribly
far. His erection coming up so quickly at the touch of her lips gave
him a feeling of assurance, a sign that he must be healing well. Then,
he remembered who it was generating the sexual fire in him! It was not
his wife, Joan! It was his boss' wife whose voracious mouth aroused
him.
Damn! She must be trying to carry out the crazy swap thing ... that
Andy suggested! ... And, I sure as hell had no intentions of carrying
it out! I was sure I'd be able to blow the whistle on him ... or stop
him, somehow, from bugging out or whatever it is he's going to do with
that big bag of money he's packing! Then, there would have been no
reason ... for swapping wives!
Jim raised his head, suddenly, breaking the erotic kiss.
"This is crazy ... Mrs. Sloan!"
"Please, call me Gayle ... Jimmy ..." she said, languidly, leaning her
head against his chest.
"We can't do this ... I'm married ... and you're married ... it just
isn't right!" he moralized.
"So ... we're married ... you mean, of course, to different people ..."
she corrected.
"Well," he huffed. "You know what I meant!"
"Are you worried about Joan ...?"
"Yes ... I've never ..." he began.
Gayle cut in, "Well ... don't worry about her any more! According to
Andy ... she takes care of herself pretty well ... as far as sex is
concerned!"
"What do you mean?" Jim growled.
"I have every reason to believe that he made love to her this afternoon
...!"
"That's impossible! Joan wouldn't ...! She just wouldn't do something
like that!"
Suddenly, he remembered!
Christ! While I was looking to Andy's luggage ... and Buzz and Gayle
were having their bang-bang party ... Andy was off somewhere with Joan!
Didn't you find anything strange about their coming out of the woods
... at the same place ... before the bear came after Andy ...? she
goaded.
"Well ... yes ... I did think of it, at the time ... but with the
excitement caused by that Grizzly ... I-I must have let it escape me
..."
"... Of course ... that was one of the agreements you and Andy made ...
before we came away on this trip ..." she reminded him. "As a matter of
fact ... it was the big reason for bringing you two along ..."
"... But, Christ! I never thought it'd ever get to that point ...!" he
blurted. "I-I ..." quickly, stopping himself, before he said more.
"You thought ... what ...?"
"That it could be avoided," he modified.
"You wanted to avoid ... making love ... to me ...?" she pouted. "Don't
you find me ... attractive ... desirable ... in any way?"
"It's not that ... you're really a beautiful ... woman ... but I-I've
never ..." he groped.
"Had any other woman ...?" she supplied.
"Well ... yes ... but, my boss' wife ... it's just not right ...!"
"Andy's already laid Joan!"
The flat statement made him gasp, "No! It can't be!"
"He told me he had!"
"H-He told you ...?"
"Yes! We have no secrets," she asserted.
"God!"
His face flushed in anger.
How could she ...? God ...! How could she make love to another man ...?
Joan ... unfaithful!? I can't believe it ...!
"He must have taken advantage of her ... forced her!" he flung out,
trying to find a reason.
"Andy's not a rapist! She must have done it of her own volition!" she
countered.
"Bitch! Why the little bitch!" he thundered.
"Don't be too hard on her ... she was just fulfilling her part of ..."
He cut her off. "She didn't know about any agreement ... damn it! She
had no idea ... none at all ... about that!"
"For Heavens' sake ... why ...?" Gayle probed.
"Because I didn't tell her ... she would have refused!" he confessed.
"She must have given in ... made love to him ... on her own! That's it!
That's what happened!" he concluded.
"So ... now ... you can have me ... if you want me ...?" her voice was
low, a bare murmur.
Jim looked down at her, now, in the rapidly failing light and saw her
in a new way, as a desirable woman, a potential sex partner ... one who
could soothe him, at the same time give him a certain perverse
satisfaction in knowing that he had repaid his wife in kind.
"God ... yes! I want you!" he said, taking her in his arms, his mouth
seeking and finding hers, his lips opening to take her tongue to suck
and nip, and as she came into his arms, he was aware of her nipples,
spiky against his chest through the light blouse she wore.
His hand went up under the blouse to fondle and massage, the fullness
of her breasts plastic in his strong-fingered hand. He found the
globoid hemispheres smooth and warm to his touch, their magnificence
beyond comparison; he had to see more ... feel more. His trembling hand
reached and fumbled with the buttons, she finally helping him with
nimble fingers, then shrugging and moving arms to make its removal
easier.
His quick, indrawn breath caught in his throat at the vision of
loveliness revealed to him, his mouth going to a breast to kiss, his
lips and tongue paying homage to the satiny smooth skin, then finally,
taking an erect, coral nipple to suck and tease; meanwhile, Gayle's
hands explored his body, her sensitive fingers running up his thigh to
his crotch to feel and measure, the warmth of his hard penis being
transmitted to her through his pants. She found him hard and ready, his
penis bulging out, throbbingly, against her hand, begging for release
from its confinement. She obliged ... zipping, dipping and freeing,
bringing his long, hard cock out into the night air that was now
becoming cool. He shivered as the chilling air washed over its length.
Mentally, she compared, feeling and measuring; he was longer than Buzz,
but thinner, almost slender, she decided.
The young architect gasped aloud when she so boldly liberated his
hardening member, handling and fondling it caressingly, the shock of it
causing him to jerk convulsevely; it was a new experience to him. Very
seldom had he gotten Joan to use her hands on him, like this; for that
matter, she hardly had allowed him to finger her. After a few
experimental passes she would always stop him, never allowing herself
to be worked up to a full arousal. Little wonder, he told himself, that
his interest in sex had flagged as he compared his wife to a bag of
meal.
"Let's get naked!" Gayle said, abruptly, standing to her feet. Rapidly,
she slipped off her shorts and panties and stood nudely white and
magnificent before him.
Jim looked at her nude body with mixed shock and wonder. Joan always
insisted on wearing a nightgown, and their love-making was always
carried out in darkness. Now, here with Gayle, as she stood in the
light of the moon just peeping over the horizon, he saw a complete
vision of loveliness. His eyes traveled from her face framed in
chestnut hair to the full, mounding breasts, firm and pointing, crowned
with pink, erect nipples pointing upward. Then his approving glance
took in her flat stomach, ending in the vee at her crotch where
slightly darker hair lay curling and downy, then to her wonderfully
full curving thighs and perfect legs. He gasped with the totality of
her, the rich, fullness of her body, the glowing beauty that offered
him so much.
He still sat on the log, as she came to stand between his legs, her
pubic mound coming close and even with his face. Involuntarily, his
arms went around her hips and he drew her close, his face nestling in
her warm, down-covered pubis She began to unbutton his shirt, and he
had to release her while she removed it from him. She pulled his
undershirt over his head, then, kneeling before him to unbuckle his
belt. He stood; she helped him to remove the pants over his legs and
feet. In one stripping motion, she pulled his shorts off, his long,
stiff cock standing out like a lance before him. Gayle captured it,
instantly, her hands moving on its length, fingernails scratching
lightly, while one hand went under to cup and fondle his balls in their
sac; finally, she retracted the foreskin and leaned forward to take the
head of it into her ovalled lips. Her tongue moved on him, caressingly,
and he gasped with pure delight when she tried to put the tip of her
tongue in the slit in the tip of it. She sucked on his cock, slowly,
languidly, for a few moments; she felt it grow even harder and longer,
throbbing and jerking along its length and she knew she would have to
stop. He was already far along to complete arousal. She released him
and looked up to his face.
"Do you like that ... Jim ...?"
"It's ... it's just wonderful ...!" he said.
Gayle eased herself back to lie full length on the grass.
"Come on, Lover ... do me, now ..."
"You mean ...?" he said, his glance going to her crotch.
She spread her thighs, revealing her softly palpitating cunt to him,
her hips moving in little undulant circles, lifting up to him.
"Yes ... do it to me ..."
The invitation was plain, but something balked in Jim's mind. True, he
had tried to get Joan to do it, but there was something in him ...
shyness ... reluctance, or the abruptness of the invitation that led
him, instead, merely to lie down beside her.
He kissed her long and passionately, filling her mouth, now, with his
tongue, probing into her deeply and enjoying the treatment she, in
turn, gave his tongue as she sucked and gently nipped, giving him
tremendously erotic sensations.
After a while, she gently moved his head to her breasts, encouraging
him with little shruggings and upward movements. He kissed them, then
used his tongue to lick and his mouth to suck, finally, he bit gently
on a nipple, taking it into his teeth; at the same time he felt her
hands busy on his back, smoothing and massaging, her fingers digging
and nails lightly scratching.
Moving his head, again, to her mouth, she kissed him long and hard,
flicking her tongue in and out of his mouth. She felt him, now, as he
began to knead and massage her breasts with hard fingers, her nipples
being twisted and rolled, and she again guided his head down over her
breasts to her smooth, flat belly. He kissed it; his tongue even
speared into her navel. Hot flashes of delight stabbed at her cunt,
now. She, again spread her thighs and moved his head down; he kissed
and bit at the top of her legs and into the groin on either side of her
pubic mound. Somewhat exasperated, she moved his head, placing it
between her legs, moving her hips up to him and rotating her soft,
hair-lined cunt right in front of his face. He gaped down at the
pulsing, pink furrow, but he would move no further into it. She decided
she would have to ask for it.
"Kiss it ... Jim!" she gasped. "Use your tongue ... to lick me!"
He shook his head, mutely, his mind-block not allowing him to go the
final inch. Patiently, as though she were teaching a small child, she
lifted his head, again, pulled his mouth back to hers, kissed him hard,
bit and sucked at his tongue, then moved her tiny hand down to his
blood-engorged prick. She drummed her fingers on the head, rapidly,
then, with her thumb, she rubbed over the smooth, shiny corona, the
friction causing the hardened rod to jerk in her hand; finally she
pulled the foreskin back and forth, violently, several times, gripping
him hard. Involuntarily, his hips moved against her hand. Now, she
gripped his long, hardened cock firmly with her fingers, digging into
the side of it and pulled so that his body was maneuvered around until
his legs straddled her head, his head hanging over her wide spread
loins in a sixty-nine position. Releasing his cock, she moved his head
and placed it in position between her thighs, his mouth hovering close
to her throbbing vaginal opening; then, she wetly slipped her soft red
lips over the head of his prick and began to suck, blowing in and out,
rapidly, his cudgel moving in and out of her ovalled lips with the
movement. God! It felt marvelous!
Jim moaned with the delicious sensations in his cock, his lips moving
to the soft, moist slit. He kissed her there, and his tongue began to
flick through his lips to taste the pungent femaleness of her. Gayle
sucked, steadily, at the head of his prick, and with each probing of
her tongue at the tiny, sensitive opening, his tongue moved more
quickly at her pussy-lips. She smoothed her hands over his buttocks and
reached between his legs to roll his balls in her hand, then she began
to take more and more of his hard, long cock into her mouth and throat,
until her chin brushed the dark hair of his loins.
Jim couldn't believe it; the new sensations delighted him beyond his
wildest expectations. He just knew that it couldn't be happening to
him. The soft, smooth firmness of her full-mounded breasts, the flat,
silky belly and the exciting savorful lips of her had aroused him,
fully, but now the ecstasy of kissing a willing woman's cunt for the
first time was a revelation and a joy to him. He hadn't wanted to do it
when she had first urged him, but when she had moved him into this
position, had taken him into her mouth to suck, he wanted to do the
same for her, feeling, somehow, that it was right and good. He rejoiced
within himself as he heard his boss' wife begin to moan, softly, her
undulant hips moving up to him in a slow, inexorable rhythm.
He probed the soft, ragged flanges of her, moving his tongue ever
deeper in the viscid moistness of her cunt, her hands moving, then, on
the cheeks of his buttocks, her hands cradling and fondling his balls,
gently, and he began to lick more violently at her. He knew now that
she was becoming excited and ready, as she moved, gyrating, her hips
flexing, the walls of her vagina clasping at his tongue, and she was
wet, wetter than he thought a woman could get. Then, his tongue found
her clitoris; he licked at the sensate head and felt the convulsive
jerking of her body and heard the groan that emitted from her, seeming
to come from the depths of her being. Knowing that she wanted more of
it, he worked his tongue around and up and down the short length of the
miniature phallus, causing her to thrust upwards so that his whole
mouth was suddenly slapped into the soft, wetness of her pulsating
cunt. He bored into her, then, sliding his tongue in as far as it would
go, enjoying the pressure she exerted on it, feeling her move against
him and without realizing it, he shoved his prick further into her
throat, the tip of it hurting a little because her throat was so tight
around it. He tried to withdraw, but she pulled him back, her hands
pressing down on his buttocks, so he relaxed, allowing her to take him
all into the back of her throat. He knew it had to be that deep in her;
he marveled that she could take it so far without choking. Now, he
began to explore his new discovery with his sensate tongue.
Jim moved his hands on her thighs and hips, then with the flat of his
palms he spread her legs farther apart so that his tongue had greater
access to her, her flowering cunt opening up so that he buried his
mouth in her, his tongue slaving away, flicking in and out with ever
more confidence. He felt her finger play on his rectum, suddenly,
pushing through the resisting flesh to lay like a log in him, but
strangely heightening the ecstatic rapture as new and exciting
sensations raced along his nerves; likewise, now he tried to push a
finger into the rubbery, puckered aperture winking below; he couldn't
do it easily and stopped short. He didn't want to bring pain to her,
but her hips tilted up, making it available. He understood and
continued to work at it until he had worked a finger inside the tight,
resisting portal; then he shoved his tongue into her clasping pussy as
far as it would go as she ground her hips under him, squirming and
undulating in wild abandon.
Gayle felt the quivering in his prick that told her he was close to
cumming. She didn't want him to cum that way; for the first time, with
him, she wanted him to be deep in her belly. She took her mouth from
him and maneuvered him to his back. Straddling him, she looked down
into his face, her eyes glazed with sex and the need to come to orgasm.
"Jim ... do you want to fuck me now?" she hissed out softly.
"Oh, God ... yes!" he groaned. "I have to fuck you ... now!"
"Do you mind ... if I take the top position ... this time ...?"
"No! Not really ... but I ..."
"It'll be easier for you ... not take any extra strength ..."
"O. K..." he agreed reluctantly.
She raised her hips and reached down between them to grasp his long,
hard cock; she worked her cunt-lips over it so that the head was at the
opening, then she moved it back and forth through the moist furrow to
part the soft curls of pubic hair, guiding it finally to enter her. She
gradually slipped down on him, fluttering the interior muscles around
him until she had sunk down on him, all the way, the great, slender
length of him buried in her to the hilt. She rested on top of him with
the long hardened wedge buried in her, her cunt milking at him in
increasing tempo, until she felt him try to move under her. Then she
flexed her legs, moving her wet pussy up and down his blood-engorged
cock. Faster and faster she moved, his prick racing up into her, each
time, smashing into the back wall of her vaginal vault. Now, she felt
his hands on her hips; they gripped her strongly, his fingers mashing
into her soft flesh, assisting her in the proper tempo, lifting her and
dropping her back on him with ever increasing motion. She ground down
on him, absorbing the hot spear of his manhood deep up inside her, the
throbbing head flicking past her uterus. Bucking up and down on it, her
movements became frenetic, as she slammed up and down that hardened rod
of flesh faster and faster and deeper and deeper until she came in a
soul-searing orgasmic release and she took him clear to the top of her
cuntal passage, holding him there while she convulsed in the grip of
her powerful release.
Jim tried with frantic effort to move under her, to fuck up into her,
to satisfy his own demanding release that was so close, yet so far, the
acid burning of it frustrating in the extreme. Tensing his body, he dug
his heels into the grass; with one quick movement he flipped her over,
reversing their positions, so that he was now solidly atop her, his
cock still absorbed to its full length.
Suddenly, finding herself under him, Gayle was overjoyed that he had
the strength to fuck her properly; her cunt flowered open to his
ramming, pounding prick, plunging wildly into her, grinding and pushing
deep, deep into the very core of her. It was a searing spear of wildly
stabbing flesh that touched her and brought her once more to the
heights, and she knew that she would cum and cum, again. Frenetically,
she met his every movement, slamming her scalding pussy up at him,
until the root of his searing tool of hardened flesh was flattening her
cunt-lips, and she sucked his pistoning cock totally into it as he
plunged deep, long and hard into the viscid moistness of her.
... And she came, again, screaming out her release.
"Fuck me hard ... Jim! Hard! Hard! Deep! ... and long!
AAAAAAaaaaaagggggghhhhhh! Oh, God! ... Oh, Goooood!"
They were one and frantic together, his spewing, jetting release came
hosing from him, pumping the white, hot sperm through him in delicious
release, his cock jerking and expanding, the racing sensations
concentrated there in the spear of his manhood. And with a last soul-
searing groan, he collapsed into her entwining arms.
* * *
Approaching the stream, in the moonlight, Joan saw a figure seated on
the ground. It was not until she was closer and could distinguish
details that she realized it was a woman she saw, the outlines of her
breasts magnificent in the pale, silvery light. Of course, there was
only one possibility ... it was Gayle Sloan ... and she was naked.
Oh, God ... no! Jimmy and Gayle ... together! Naked!
Joan stopped dead. She watched ... and listened. The words came to her
clearly over the intervening distance.
"Jim ... do you want to fuck mew
"Oh, God ... yes! I have to fuck you ... now!"
Quick, scalding tears blinded her!
It is! Oh, God! It is them! I prayed it wouldn't be ...
Half-running, stumbling, blinded by her tears ... tears of jealousy ...
of remorse ... and shame, she tried to make her way back to the camp.
She only wanted to crawl into their shelter to hide and cry her heart
out. She knew that she was no better than her Jimmy; she too had
fallen, but her vow never to let it happen again was strong in her ...
stronger, she thought than even her faith.
Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy! I wanted things to be different!
... And, she ran blindly into the arms of Buzz Henson, who had become
worried about the absence of the two women and had decided to look for
them. He held her close and soothed her, until she realized who it was
who held her.
"Let me go!" she screamed. "You bastard!"
Chapter 7
If Buzz Henson was an opportunist---which he was---he was not
dishonest; his sense of responsibility was strong, especially to the
four people who were castaways in this northern wilderness, and his
loyalty to them was unshakable. Buzz had been shaken just a few minutes
before Joan stumbled sobbing into his arms.
Andrew Sloan had ambled over to the hulk of the wrecked airplane; Buzz
was busy working on the radio transmitter. Without apology Sloan laid
his cards on the line to the young pilot.
"Buzz ... I've been studying a road map of this area. There's a road
coming into these mountains from the north ... I figure that if we
moved west down to the lower hills ... then northeast we'll strike that
road! From there on in ... it'd be smooth sailing ... It is possible to
walk out of here!
"It's too risky!" Buzz countered.
"Does five thousand dollars make it less of a risk?"
"I don't follow you ..."
"I'm willing to pay you that much ... if you can take Gayle and me out
of here ... in the next two days!"
"And leave the Wrights?"
"We'd send back other people for them ..." Andy filled in, trying to
make it sound all right.
"No! That won't do! There's that mountain lion prowling around here ...
there's bound to be more Grizzlies! Jim and Joan would be in too much
danger, here ... alone!"
"My offer can go to seventy-five hundred!"
"No! We all walk out ... or we all stick here! There'll be no splitting
up!" Buzz said with decision.
"The last offer is ten thousand!" Andy said.
Buzz speared the older man with a derisive, angry pair of ice-blue
eyes. His voice was hard, his words spat out of his mouth with the
force of bullets.
"No! God damn it! I can't be bought! We all stay here! ... And that's
my final word!"
Placing the transmitter chassis in the pilot's seat, Buzz had left the
plane, his hot anger almost beyond control. He felt he must get away
from the man ... far enough away, so that he wouldn't be tempted to
resort to violence. Sloan's proposition infuriated him ... the very
idea of abandoning two people up here was monstrous ... preposterous!
God! He couldn't do that!
Sloan's got the idea money will buy anything! The stupid son-of-a-bitch
... trying to save his own ass ... not caring about anyone else! Ten
thousand dollars is a fair amount of money ... and I could use it! ...
But, knowing that I'd left two people up here ... if something happened
to them ... I'd never be able to live with myself! God damn him! He's
almost trying to make a Judas out of me!
Then, as he walked out and away from the camp site, he had noted the
absence of both the Wrights and Gayle Sloan; somewhat worried about
their prolonged stay away from the safety of the fire, he had walked
into the glade to try to find them.
Now, suddenly, Joan Wright was in his arms, sobbing almost inconsolably
and he was trying to soothe her, when she tried to break away from him,
spitting out, "Let me go ... you bastard!"
He held her tight in strong, lean arms to keep her from scratching him,
shifting to hold her from behind, pinning her arms when she tried to
bite him; the soft sneakers she wore was, of course, no danger to him
as she tried to kick her way free.
"Hold on ... Joan, Baby! Not so violent! I'm only trying to help you
... if you'll let me!" he said in her ear.
"Help m-me ...? How could you ... h-help me? Nobody can ...!"
"Settle down ... tell me about it! ... Maybe that'll help!"
Shame flooded through her. How do you tell someone that your husband
was out there ... making love to another woman? How do you communicate
your own depraved fall, your loss of chastity that may have driven your
husband into the arms of another woman ... and how do you tell another
person that your heart is breaking ... that all you wanted was love,
the love of your own husband? She couldn't! There was nothing for her
but the refuge of tears and time. Her tears were copious! She wanted
time, now ... time to hide herself ... to let the soul-wounds heal.
"No! You'd n-never u-understand ...!" she wailed; then, pleadingly,
"let me go!"
"Did you see Jim and Gayle out there?" he queried.
She slumped back against him, holding her breath for a long moment.
"Yes!" she spat with fury.
Her answer was his clue. His mind clicked, putting things together.
"Were they ... making love ...?" he asked, gently.
She didn't answer. Buzz waited a beat.
"Well ... were they?"
For answer she shook her head up and down.
"And that's what's bothering you?"
Her voice was low, almost a whisper, "Yes ... I-I wanted him ... t-to
m-make love ... to me! I was losing him ... have been ... losing him
... f-for a l-long time!"
"Maybe not ... maybe you'll both learn to love better!" he told her.
"From the way you acted with me ... I'd bet it was the first time you'd
ever really been turned on ... right ...?
Joan was silent, again.
"Wasn't it?" he pursued.
The memory of the early afternoon came swarming back to her, and she
knew that he was right!
"Y-Yes ... I-I guess ... that's r-right..." she hesitated.
Buzz felt her body relax; he turned her to face him, still holding her.
"Gayle could do the same thing for Jim!" he suggested.
"So ...? What does that m-mean ...?" she asked, turning a tear-stained
face up to him.
"That both of you might benefit from it ..."
"How...?"
"You could learn to satisfy each other ... completely!"
She began to tremble, her body shaking, violently, as he went on, "...
And others ... also!"
"You mean ... s-swapping...?"
"Yes! You already have!" he pointed out.
"Joan gasped. "How did y-you know ...?"
"I told you I put things together ... Andy must have fucked you half to
death just before that bear came charging after him!"
The nearness of her, her loins pressed up against his pelvis, as he
held her close, began to react on him; he felt the familiar, slow
warmth in his penis, becoming tumescent and bulging, throbbing against
her and transmitting to her own genitals the state of his growing,
hardening member. Then, it came to him what he must do.
"What you need ... is a drink under your belt ... to help you get
calmed down ... How about it...?"
"I don't like it ...! I hardly ever touch it!" she evaded.
Buzz ground his hips into her, his bulging cock making closer contact,
but she tried to roll her pelvis to the side to avoid it. He dropped
his hands to her full, ripe young buttocks and pulled her in even
closer.
"It'll help ... " he told her. "It'll help a lot of things!"
He continued to undulate his hips, suggestively, grinding into her
loins, as he bent his head down to capture her lips with his mouth. The
oscular contact almost melted her into his arms. His tongue lashed into
her mouth, hungrily, to probe and savor, then he gently nibbled on her
lower lip. She came, then, fully into his arms and her avid mouth
returned his kiss, her tongue flicking out to burst into his mouth. She
moaned deep in her throat.
Breaking the kiss and the embrace after a few moments, he led her
toward the looming hulk of the crashed airplane.
"Come on, Joan ... let's get those drinks!"
"All right ... but just one!" she agreed. "It might help me get to
sleep easier ..."
"Sure ..."
"But ... Buzz ..." she said, her face troubled. "No more hanky-panky!"
"Whatever you say!" he replied, amiably.
Andy heard them approaching. He came from the shelter and came toward
the glowing fire.
"Gayle ...?" he queried.
Buzz answered, "No ... it's Joan. Gayle and Jim are still out there
somewhere ... having a party!"
"Oh ... I see ... thanks ..." Andy said, disinterestedly.
As they went by him, Buzz said, "Join us for a drink? ... You'll never
regret it!"
Then, by the cooking fire, he stooped to pick up three enameled cups.
He had released Joan, and she stood a pace or two away. Buzz motioned
Andy to him, as he knelt and stirred the fire and added a couple of
pieces of wood to it. Andy came to kneel beside him. Buzz' voice was
low.
"She's ready for a real party ...! We can make it a trio ... if you
want!"
"Why do you think I'd want to be in on it ... you hate my guts!" He
took the pilot's cue and spoke soto voce.
"The feeling's mutual ... but I think sex is one thing we agree on ...
right?"
"Right!" Andy agreed.
"Slow and easy!" Buzz warned. "We don't want to panic her!"
"Right!"
Their short, whispered conference over, Buzz carried the three cups,
again taking the unsuspecting Joan by the arm, and led her to the
plane. He helped her up the high step to the cabin, lit a flashlight he
had hung up for illumination, seated her on one of the passenger seats
and rummaged through his duffel bag, until he found a fifth of good
Scotch ... half full.
Andy came up into the plane behind them and seated himself on Buzz'
sleeping bag. Buzz poured into the cups.
"We'll have to make do without ice, mixers or chasers ..." he said.
"But the Scotch is guaranteed ... bottled in bond ... and smooth when
you drink it neat!"
He handed a cup to Joan, one to Andy, taking the third one for himself
and toasted, "Here's to an early rescue from this forest paradise!"
The two men drank, silently; Joan sipped and found the liquor strong.
She coughed. "Ugh! That's horrible!"
"Sip it slowly ..." Andy suggested.
She tried it, again, getting it down, this time, and she felt the fire
of it in her stomach, its warmth spreading in her. Now, she tried more
... and a little more; before she realized it, she had drained the cup.
Buzz poured. She sipped, almost automatically, now, as the fire of the
liquor spread to include her loins, a tingle of arousal was there, a
lowering of inhibitions, as she looked from one virile man to the
other. She was beginning to feel a little dizzy, and she knew that when
she finished the second drink, she would have to excuse herself and
return to her own shelter. Certainly, she had no intention of drinking
more ... or of giving the men any ideas that she was available to them,
sexually. She told herself that she was there with them only to be
companionable; after all, she had already warned Buzz. Andy, on the
other hand, must have gotten the message, earlier.
Small talk had swirled among them; her second drink was finished, and
Joan stood to her feet. It was time for her to leave.
Suddenly, she felt dizzy, dizzier than she had ever felt before, almost
faint, actually, and it was new and strange to her. She almost fell.
Quickly, Buzz caught her in his arms, his mouth clamping to hers hard,
his tongue performing its sinuous dance of love in her mouth, and she
melted to him with a great sigh. His hands became busy on her body as
they massaged and smoothed down her back to the twin, full mounds of
her buttocks where he grasped and kneaded with strong-fingered vigor.
Buzz signaled Andy with his eyes. The architect arose eagerly, setting
aside his cup of liquor. Standing behind her, his hands, too, began to
caress her, going up under her blouse to the magnificent hemispheres of
her breasts. He found she wore a bra. Deftly, he unhooked it, and his
hands went back up under the bra to capture a tit in either hand. His
fingers grasped her hard, digging in and rolling the coral nipples to
hard erectness between his fingers.
The pilot unbuttoned her blouse, then, and Andy removed it, as she
dumbly moved her arms to allow it. Her bra followed, and she was nude
from the waist up. Unzipping the placket of her shorts, Andy shoved
them down her tapering thighs, over the calves of her legs to her
ankles. She stumbled out of them, and Andy tossed the garment to the
seat with her blouse and bra.
Meanwhile, Buzz had taken up the caressing of her breasts; he cupped,
smoothed, massaged and kneaded, her warm flesh pliant in his hand. He
had not let up kissing her, but now her mouth came alive, her tongue
racing snake-like into his mouth to be sucked and nipped. Erotic
sensations were rampant in her body; dimly, she knew that she must not
... could not allow Buzz to do any of the things he was doing to her.
She had vowed that never, again, would she succumb to the sensations of
her body ... except in the arms of her husband, Jim. But where was Jim?
The answer came blazing into her mind with the force of a meteor.
Jim is out there with Gayle ... and he's making love to her!
Andy's hands were on her buttocks and thighs, playing, moving,
incessantly on her, until, suddenly, he grasped the waistband of her
panties and in one motion stripped them from her; again, she stepped
from them, and she was completely naked before the two men.
Taking her solidly in his arms, Buzz moved her to the sleeping bag,
eased himself down on it and pulled her down after him. She lay on her
back and he moved over her twisting his upper body to cover her three-
quarters. He glanced up at Andy and mouthed the words, "Get your
clothes off!"
Andy began to strip, immediately; meanwhile, Buzz began to kiss and
suck on her milky-white breasts, taking a nipple in his rounded lips
and blowing and sucking on it, forcing the erect tissue in and out of
his mouth. It was the work of but a few moments before Andy was naked;
he came to lie down beside her on the other side, his hands roaming
over her flat belly and down to the golden flame of the perfect pubic
triangle at the juncture of her thighs. Gradually, Buzz moved away from
her and Andy moved in from the other side to take his place, his hand
still fondling and rubbing at her pubic mound. Slowly, he began to slip
his palm down between her legs, her thighs opening as he cupped all of
her genitals in the flat of his hand and began to massage her with some
vigor.
Buzz was, likewise, nude in a matter of moments, and he lay back down
in the same place. It was then that Joan realized that two men were
making love to her. Both Buzz and Andy were naked, their hardened cocks
on either side of her. She felt as though she were a helpless,
defenseless maiden being offered up as a sacrifice to two of the high
priests of Sex. She couldn't believe that such a thing could be
happening to her.
Both of them ... together? At the same time? Oh, God! How did it happen
...? Buzz and Andy ... both! I can't! l can't! God! Don't let it happen
to me!
She wanted to be rational ... she tried to think it through, get her
thoughts in order. God! What had she let herself in for by stupidly
drinking two drinks. It was the Scotch that had led her astray. She
hadn't paid much attention to Buzz' pouring, but he had given her
liberal double shots.
Suddenly, she felt hopelessly trapped. She groaned.
"Oh, Buzz ... you promised ..."
"Promised what ... Joan ...?"
"That you ... you wouldn't ... t-try to d-do anything to me ..."
"Let's see ... I said, 'Whatever you say ...'" he quoted. "And you've
said it ...!"
"N-No! No! I didn't ...!" she moaned in anguish.
"Your body said it for you!" Buzz asserted.
"Oh, God! My body! I fight it ... I fight it, hard ... but it seems
like I-I just can't ... resist ..."
"Don't fight it ... Baby!" Andy said. "Just relax and enjoy it ...
that's the only way!"
Buzz recaptured her mouth, then; she felt the warm, moistness of Andy's
mouth on her breasts now, his hand still smoothing around at the vee of
her thighs, as the pilot's mouth worked on hers. She groaned out her
abject feeling of helplessness to resist their marvelous manipulation
of her body. Involuntarily, she reached out to put her hand behind
Buzz' head to pull his mouth in hard to her own avid oral cavern.
Below, her breasts responded to Andy; her other hand went down to
caress the back of his head. Two men! It was impossible! Dear God! What
had she come to!
Then, without seeming warning, a powerful thunderbolt struck her, the
racing electric power of it jumped from her mouth to her breasts and to
her loins; her cunt was on fire and she pressed her legs together
tightly trying to smother the rising feeling of involuntary sexual
desire between her legs, but Andy's hand was already there moving on
her, the heat of his hand giving her an unwanted thrill.
The architect began to kiss her smooth, flat belly, then above her
soft, golden pubis and his hands were now opening her legs, his
pressure on her knees firm but gentle. She felt as though she would be
consumed in the fire that emanated from her searing, seething loins.
She groaned when Buzz squeezed at her breasts, then he withdrew his
mouth from hers and kissed them, causing new and greater charges to
build within her seemingly concentrated in the spiky, hard and painful
erect coraline nipples.
Andy spread her curving thighs, kissing the inner softness, down, down
until his mouth was in the golden, sparsely hair-lined furrow; he felt
with his tongue, probing softly into the vaginal opening, his tongue
flicking snake-like between his teeth. Joan groaned under him, her hips
rotating and pushing up at him. His thumbs pressed her cunt-lips apart
to expose the secret cavern of her, the pink, glistening-wet inner
flesh fluorescent and open to his lascivious gaze, and she felt the
exciting, warm wash of his expelled breath on the sensate, inner flesh
of her feminine core.
His mouth moved forward, now, his tongue exploring her cuntal lips,
then he slid his lingual member into the softness of her vaginal
passage. He felt her undulate as her hips, again involuntarily, moved
her pussy Up into his face, and he pushed all the way into her; she
moaned and moved her naked, defenseless loins even more forcefully up
to him, his tongue moving within her, his teeth nipping at the tender
flanges of flesh between the thrusting in and out of his agile tongue;
he reveled in the clean female odor of her. Soon, he heard a soft moan
emitting from her throat; then, she flung her pelvis violently upward
and groaned aloud, a soul-searing, strangled sound of animal passion.
"OOOoooooooh! Ooh! AAAAaaaaagh!" she screamed and ground her buttocks
into the sleeping bag as he probed deeper and deeper into her fiery
sensate cunt.
Then, Andy's tongue found the throbbing, hard clitoris in its soft
moist canopy of flesh. He licked and licked, and Joan went wild with
the pleasure of it, her hips moving in ever more violent motions,
shoving her tongue in and out of Buzz' mouth, shrugging her white,
quivering breasts up to his face as he alternately kissed and squeezed.
She turned, twisting and squirming, the battle between her body and her
mind lost again---her body the victor---and she threw her body at them,
offering her mouth, her breasts and her cunt to their hungry, searching
mouths. She knew that the dam of her will had been breached. There was
nothing, now, for her but the final rapture of sexual fulfillment. She
wanted it ... needed it to come to her; she tried to hasten it, her
body undulant and pliable under them, but she was thwarted, frustrated
in her attempt to hurry them. Andy and Buzz exchanged places, slipping
and sliding along her body, one on each side, and Andy's lips captured
her mouth, the pungent, alkaline taste of her cunt on his lips as she
avidly sucked and nibbled at him. She ran her hands over Andy's back,
feeling the hardness of his muscles in his more compact frame, then
pulling his head to her, taking his tongue deeply into her mouth to
suck. She could feel her body beginning to perspire with the strain of
trying to respond to the two virile men who labored over her naked,
aroused body.
Buzz moved his hips between her unresisting thighs, running his hands
under the soft whiteness of her passion-trembling buttocks, pulling
them up in position to enter her and moved forward, dipping his lean,
strong body at the hips to place his pulsating cock on the lips of the
moist, viscously glistening pink cuntal opening. He pressed the soft,
resilient crevice of her buttocks further apart, and he worked a finger
into the rubbery aperture of her anus, the soft spongy tissue warm and
pliant, resisting his probing only nominally.
Lifting the whole of her hips toward him, then, the pilot eased his
hardened cock into the warm, coral flesh of her vagina, feeling her
move against him. He squeezed and massaged her wide-spread thighs and
moved slowly into her, the inner, sensitive walls of her cunt sucking
him on and on, deeper and deeper, the fluttering movements inside her
milking at him. He didn't push in all the way; he rested short of
complete penetration as the clasping, wet warmth of her vibrant cuntal
flesh sheathed him closely, almost driving him insane as he willed
himself to wait.
Every twitching, sensual nerve in her body had been awakened in her;
she was sure that the aching need in her could never be satisfied. She
wanted Buzz to ram his cock into her. She wanted to push her cunt up on
the spear of his manhood to fill the throbbing, hungry void, but he
held back just that small amount she needed.
When she felt his hard shaft enter her, wedging her apart she could
have died right then from the rapturous pleasure it gave her, but she
couldn't understand his holding back, his not giving her the full
length of his blood-engorged cock.
"Oh, God!" she moaned in frustration. "Put it all in!"
She felt Buzz' hands on her, rubbing, squeezing and massaging the
cheeks of her firm round buttocks, and again, he pulled the full,
rounded orbs apart, his finger easing into the tiny puckered hole of
her anus; the pain of it strangely welcome to her.
"Put what all in ... Joanie?" Buzz grinned down at her, triumph written
in his half lewd smile.
"Your c-cock! Shove it all into my cunt ... and fuck me!"
... But, he took her slow and easy, deliberately he moved with
excruciating care, never allowing his long, hard prick to go all the
way in ... yet. He was waiting for her to start responding to him; he
wanted her to be wild for it. In a very few moments, she began to
salaciously slither her cunt up over his huge cock, trying to engulf
him, swallow him whole into her, the walls of her palpitating cunt
fluttering and milking at him, her gyrating hips slamming up at him,
demandingly. Then, suddenly, he could wait no longer. She was ready!
With a deep-throated grunt he rammed his hardened rod of blood-engorged
flesh into her, all the way, until his pubic bone smacked into hers and
his testicles slapped tight against her wildly exposed anus. He held it
there for a moment, hearing her groan helplessly up into Andy's mouth;
then with long, hard, strokes, he began to grind into her, every down
stroke hitting far up into her cuntal passage, flicking past her cervix
to smash hard into the far back wall of her desperately clasping
vaginal passage.
Andy could feel Buzz' entrance into her through her body, then her
subsequent reactions to the pilot's big cock in her cunt. He moved his
body, now, to straddle her chest, sitting hard atop her firm, heaving
breasts. One hand reached for her hair; he lifted it, tilting her head,
slightly. His other hand took his long, rigid prick and guided it to
her lips. Her eyes widened in surprise and she turned her head aside in
protest, in spite of her lust-ridden passion.
Oh, God! He wants me to suck it ...! How much more ... shame can they
put me through ...? I can't! I can't do it!
Joan moaned, "No! Please ... not that!"
"It's time you learned to suck cock ... baby!" Andy growled.
"No! God ... no!"
Andy opened her lips with his strong fingers and slowly guided his hard
cock toward her now opened mouth.
"Yes ... you will!" he grunted. "You uppity little bitch!"
She felt him press the shiny, spongy head of his tumescent cock into
the warm, wet cavern of her mouth and she tasted the pungent maleness
of it as it moved against her tongue. She jerked, convulsively, as Buzz
rammed into her between her widespread legs below, and without warning,
her mouth was-suddenly filled with Andy's huge lust-pulsating penis.
She closed her eyes as a final flash of shame and humiliation she
didn't think possible surged through her. Her mouth was filled to the
point where she almost gagged.
This is it! This is the final degradation! Every one of my openings has
been ... violated now! I've been had every possible way ...!
"Start sucking ... bitch!" Andy commanded.
Again, that feeling of entrapment ... of helplessness flooded her.
There was nothing she could do. Nothing!
Tentatively, she hollowed her cheeks as she sucked on a man's prick for
the first time, while below, Buzz slammed the fiery hardness of his
member into her with ever-increasing fury, her hips moving, countering
him and fucking back at him.
Buzz began to fuck faster, moving in and out of her cunt with
increasing fervor, pulling her back and forth by the hips, his fingers
digging into the soft, whiteness of her buttocks. He watched as the
hard rod moved in her solidly, coming out of her cunt, pulling some of
the soft inner flanges with it, as he withdrew until only the head of
it remained in her, then sliding into the widely flowered opening,
glistening and throbbing, stuffing it all back in again as he rammed to
the back of her vagina with every thrust.
Thoroughly enjoying the pleasure it gave him, Andy pressed his cock
further into Joan's mouth, deeper and ever deeper, until he was up to
the root of his prick, and he could feel her being buffeted upwards by
Buzz' forceful plungings into her cunt. Leaning over, he watched as the
hardness of him slid into her oral cavity, her soft, lipstick rimmed
lips creeping up over the length of his cock; then, gradually, he
pushed until all of his monstrous throbbing cudgel was inside her wide
stretched mouth. She tried to turn her head to escape it ... to force
him to withdraw, but he held her head firmly in place. Now, he
commenced to plunge in and out of her, as she ovalled her lips around
him; he matched his beat to Buzz ramming into her cunt, below, both
cocks fucking her in concert. Then, to her surprise, suddenly, her
mouth was on fire, wanting his cock fucking into her in just that way,
just as she wanted the huge prick in her cunt to ram into the very core
of her being. The rising excitement of her new-found discovery coursed
through her, and she wondered, dazedly, if those two virile cocks would
tear her apart between them. Her ecstasy rose, mountingly, in her and
she sucked, hungrily, on Andy's prick, relaxing her throat to absorb
all of him; then, she reached up to grasp his hips and pulled him down,
his cock going even deeper into her mouth.
When Andy felt her hands pulling him into her, he knew that she had
made the ultimate surrender to the rapture of sex, in all its forms. He
felt the nearness of his ejaculation, the load of semen demanding,
burningly, for spewing discharge.
As Buzz began to pound into her with his final sledgehammer strokes,
she knew, instinctively, that he was ready to cum, but she never
expected in her wildest thoughts that Andy would spill his hot, viscous
sperm into her throat and mouth. She felt her own release coming; she
soared on wings of sensual rapture as Buzz moved in her with a pile-
driving force that he could not control. Then, she was aware of an
increased throbbing in Andy's rock-hard cock in her mouth. She clutched
and clawed at his hips, her nails scoring his buttocks; she would have
screamed in outright ecstasy but for Andy's huge maleness in her
throat. All her sensations concentrated on the impending orgasmic
release; she felt herself going, losing complete control. Buzz' cock
fucked hard and deep into her cunt; Andy's tore up and down in her
throat ... and suddenly it was there! Her legs flailed out into the
air, her toes curling, crazily, her whole body convulsing and jerking,
her orgasm coming to her with wild abandon, and she rose to it, meeting
it, slamming her cunt like a bitch gone wild up to Buzz' pounding cock.
He went into her with one final crashing stroke that held him rigid in
her, his semen jetting far, far up into her womb, the white, hot,
viscous fluid splattering with force against her high up in her vaginal
vault. The young pilot grunted out his satisfaction, as Andy, now burst
into her mouth, his hot, pungent sperm-laden semen scalding her throat.
He pushed down hard against her lips, his huge cock pulsing and pumping
his hot, scalding sperm deep into her, forcing her to swallow fast and
hard, some of the white fluid overflowing her mouth to dribble
lasciviously down her cheek.
The three of them came together, the two men clutching at her,
greedily, pulling her to them, as their cocks bore into her, then
slowly released her, all of them parting at the same time. Andy moved
to her side, pulling his deflating prick from her mouth even as she
still sucked on it in a vain attempt to drain all of his semen from it.
Buzz leaned back and pulled his member from her with a slight pop,
arranging himself alongside her, on the opposite side from Andy. They
were exhausted ... fully satiated. Joan stroked their heads in the
aftermath of their traumatic lovemaking. She didn't believe it was
possible; only several minutes before, when they had begun, she had
felt sure that she could never respond to two men at the same time. Her
utter shame and embarrassment would destroy it. But, she had! And it
was wonderful ... and she accepted it! She had been fucked by two
strong men to the absolute, screaming height of release.
After several minutes Buzz rose and poured more Scotch. They drank.
Joan began to have some misgivings about her actions, but the two men
soothed her, patiently explaining to her the ins and outs of what it
means to swing. Slowly, she began to understand ... understand herself.
She was not fully convinced, however. She was dubious that it could
become a way of life ... that people could exchange partners and still
love each other.
"Gayle taught me ..." Andy said. "... and I'm sure that I love her just
as much ... if not more. Swinging brings a certain stimulation to
marriage nothing else can equal!"
"Well ... I don't know ... Jimmy's a sort of conservative type, too!
He'll take some convincing!" Joan told them.
"Didn't you see him making it with Gayle?" Buzz asked.
"Yes ..."
Andy jumped in, at that point, with, "Just leave it to her, then!
She'll sell it to him!"
They drank one more Scotch. Andy reached for her, and she came into his
arms, eagerly. She lay on her side facing him; she threw her top leg
over his thigh, as his hardening member moved against her warm, sensate
pussy. Buzz snuggled up to her from behind, his big cock nestling into
the soft smooth crevice of her buttocks. He told her what he was going
to do to her, then. "We're gonna double-fuck you, baby. That'll start
that little pussy of yours snapping like a mink." And, before she could
think, she agreed! Somehow, now, it seemed all right to her. She could
not explain it to herself, but she had the feeling that she wanted to
experience everything; besides the idea that she could take them both
at the same time in her loins was now intriguing. She thought it not at
all strange that she had changed her mind about several things during
this long, long day.
Buzz ground into her rectum, carefully, allowing her time to adjust,
moving it in her, gently, until she could take him with ease. Then he
rolled to his back, his strong arms taking her bodily with him. Now,
she lay on her back on Buzz' belly and chest, his cock imbedded deeply
up in her anus. Then, Andy placed himself between both sets of
widespread legs. He came down on her, guiding his prick to the warm,
moist slit between her thighs. They both began to move in her, and she
came alive, again, her nerves sending erotic shocks from both openings.
Suddenly, she knew it was all right. She could feel Buzz below, his
hard rod in her behind, Andy above with his long hardness deep in her
cunt, and she could feel the two of them meet and press together with
only the thin tissue-of soft, pink flesh separating them. Both huge
cocks began to fuck into her, in rhythm; she could feel them each so
strongly sliding and gliding in her, and her joy was great, the
fantastic sensations racing through her from the tips of her toes to
the back of her skull.
She thought she could feel the constant growing sensations of both
instruments as they grew ever harder and longer in her. The burning
need, deep within her, rising suddenly, made her begin moving, grinding
her hips with carefree and wild abandon, upwards to Andy's plunging
spear, backwards to Buzz' monstrous cock buried, absorbed to the
fullest in her rectum.
Andy leaned back. There were voices and a swirl of movement inside the
plane ... other bodies, naked ... another man, and a woman; her dazed
mind could not take it all in, but suddenly, he was astride her chest,
sitting back hard, mashing her breasts, soft and pliant, the full
mounds of them flattened to her ribs.
His voice was commanding, "Here! Suck me, for a while ... bitch!"
It was Jim!
Oh, God... No!
Her glazed eyes pleaded with him, but he held her head, opened her
mouth and shoved his long thin cock into her oral cavity.
"Suck! God damn it!"
Her husband's boss' cock drubbed into her cunt with unrelenting force,
below; behind, under her, Buzz moved with mounting need deep in her
soft, rubbery rectum. Jim, her husband, sat astride her chest, his
blood-engorged cock moving salaciously in and out of her ovalled lips.
She rose up and down; she was pulled up and down, her pelvis moving
insanely against both the huge cocks that ravished her loins, and she
began to suck, hungrily, on Jim's lust-hardened rod of flesh as he
fucked like a wild man into her mouth. Now, she became aware that
Gayle's pink slit, glisteningly moist in the dim light of the
flashlight, hung over her face, the white, tapering columns of her
thighs widespread over both her and Buzz' heads. As she sucked with
crazy hunger on her husband's big cock, absorbing it into her throat,
she watched with fascination when he leaned forward, his tongue snaking
out to plunge wetly into the searing depths of Gayle's lightly hair-
lined pussy.
Faster and faster they moved; Joan, buffeted below, worked harder,
flinging herself at the two magnificent pricks, sucking furiously,
above, and she felt it come to her, again and again, a series of
building orgasms that would not stop. She was transported, dizzily,
faint from the force of her sequential releases. Her body jerked and
convulsed; she was emptied of all tension, almost as an electric charge
is grounded, discharging harmlessly into the moist earth. She went
limp, unable to move, as Andy ground into her, desperately, his big
cock, growing harder and longer; then, with a whistling grunt, deep in
his laboring chest he came, too, the hot lead of semen in his balls
hosing through him with jet-force, spewing into her satiated cunt, high
up, filling the vault of her involuntarily clasping vagina with the
white, hot and viscous fluid. He held it in her, rigidly, while his
prick pumped wildly; meanwhile Buzz, below still pummeled her from
behind. With a final gasp, Andy withdrew from her, his member coming
out wet, pulling long strings of his semen across her thighs as he
slumped back to the bulkhead, his cock rapidly deflating.
Jim, aware that Andy was finished and had pulled out of his wife's
cunt, decided that he would fuck her there, himself. He pulled his
long, slender cock from Joan's still working mouth, his agile tongue,
at the same time, leaving Gayle's hotly inflamed cunt. He slithered
down to wedge himself between his wife's legs.
Gayle wailed, "No, please ... don't leave me, now!"
Buzz, still moving into her rectum with long sure strokes, took in the
situation and made his decision. He moved Joan aside and scrambled from
beneath her; he reached for Gayle, grasping her by the hips and pulled
her back to him on the sleeping bag. She was quickly on her back, her
legs spread wide to receive the pilot's cock in her demanding, clasping
cunt. He was over her in a flash, his lust-inflated cock gliding
smoothly into her.
With desperate need, Jim rammed his hard rod into his wife's wildly
palpitating cunt. Crazily, insanely, he pounded into her, ramming with
the force of a steam pile-driver, his demanding need to come burning
him acidly at the root of his cock. Even though Joan had been
completely satiated just moments before, her passion rose, rapturously,
in her and she was one with him as she came again ... and again,
screaming out her ecstasy to the primeval wilderness.
"Jim! Oh, Darling! Fuck me ... hard! Oh, God! I'm going to cum, again
... and AAAgggaaain! AAAAAaaagh!"
The flaming magma of her loins boiled, volcanically, the convulsive
muscle tensions were released in her yet, again, and she collapsed
under her husband's driving cock, her eyes glazed, almost unconscious
from the power of her orgasm, her oxygen-starved brain knowing only
that she had been fucked and fucked good by her own darling husband.
Atop her, Jim came just behind her, the spurting semen splattering into
her, mingling with the pool of sperm deposited there by his boss, Andy.
It spewed from him in never-ending streams of pleasure. God! He had
wanted to destroy her with his cock; he had never worked so hard to
pound with unrelenting fury into her. Now, as he felt the hosing fluid,
searing him as it exploded in her, he knew that he truly loved his
wife. He ground into her with a few more short, slow strokes as his
penis pumped the last of his heavy load into her, then with a gasping
sigh he flopped his full weight down on top of her, totally exhausted.
Beside them, the gasping cries of Gayle, the animal grunts from Buzz
told them that both had arrived, together, in a body-slapping climax.
They thrashed for a few more moments and were quiet. Then, there was
only the labored breathing, the throat-catching little mewls of
complete satisfaction. Joan, beneath her husband was overjoyed. She
knew now that, together, they would be able to work together to save
their once shaky marriage.
Later, all five stirred, drinks were drunk and there was talk,
embarrassed at first but becoming more frank and uninhibited. Mostly,
the Sloans talked, with Buzz adding a few succinct comments, as the
Wrights, Joan and Jim, were instructed, indoctrinated as it were, into
the world of swinging sex.
Jim and Joan soon crept off to their own shelter where they talked
more, their understanding of self and of the other partner expanded and
enhanced. In the wee hours of the morning Jim, once again, made love to
his wife, but this time it was tender, their foreplay erotic and
stimulating, their climax, exploding upon them, together, melded them,
blended them into one flesh; yet, they knew that now, each would not
only be more responsive to the other, but that they would, in the
future, not confine themselves, exclusively, to each other. They knew
that a new, eventful life lay ahead of them. Then, they slept a sleep
of undisturbed languor and restfulness.
In the cabin of the crashed plane, there was one more swinging trio of
sexual satiation. They, too, slept, after a while, Gayle between the
two virile men snuggled on either side of her. Finally, quiet
descended, and there was only the sounds of the forest, the soft
footpads, the tiny scurryings, flittings and the cautious calls of
night creatures to each other. The primeval forest, ever mysterious,
held its deepest secrets to itself in the soft ghostly comings and
goings of its denizens.
Chapter 8
The sun stood an hour above the ridge before any of the plane-wreck
castaways were awake. Joan stirred in Jim's arms, sleepily; she
stretched and opened her eyes to the sunbeams filtering through the
branches overhead. She winced. Her head ached, slightly, from the
effects of the whiskey she had consumed. Ruefully, she told herself
that, in the future, she would have to ration consumption of alcohol.
Last night had been a little too much for her.
She arose, stirred up the fire and put the morning coffee on to boil.
After she had washed her face and combed her hair, she felt better;
going back to the campfire, then, she began to prepare breakfast. Her
mind was still in a whirl from the fast pace of yesterday's events. She
mulled them over, trying to sort out the loose ends, putting things in
their rational and logical order. She had experienced much and learned
a great deal.
Soon, the savory odors of the cooking food, the distinctive aroma of
campfire coffee goaded the others to wakefulness, and they came one by
one to the campfire for breakfast, complimenting Joan on the tasty
food.
After they had eaten, Jim volunteered to go up on the ridge on lookout
duty.
"You don't have to, Jim ... you've been under the weather ..." Buzz
began, giving him a chance to back out.
"I'm feeling better all the time ... I'd like to do it!" Jim insisted.
"O.K., then ... that'll give me a little more time to fuss around with
that radio transmitter ..."
Jim kissed his wife extra warmly and walked off up toward the ridge.
Joan was worried.
"Will you be all right, Darling? Do you have your gun ...? You know
... there's still that mountain lion Andy saw!"
"Don't worry about me, Joan ... I'll be O.K.!" he told her as he had
left.
Gayle set about the clean-up and washing of dishes.
"Joan ... how can I ever thank you for cooking breakfast in my place
...? I just couldn't seem to wake up, this morning..."
"Don't try, Gayle ... maybe there's something you can do for me, later
on ..." Joan said, amiably.
Andy, who had been relieved of his lookout duty by Jim, picked up an
ax, saying that he was going to get some more firewood. Buzz agreed and
Andy strode away. Gayle watched him go, turned back to Joan with a
worried look on her face and remarked, "He's brooding, again ... about
something ... I wish I knew how to help him ..."
"Just worried about getting out of here," Buzz volunteered.
"No ... it's something more than this ... It's gone on for several
months!"
"... And he's never given you an inkling of what's bothering him ...?"
Joan asked.
"No ... he hasn't!" Gayle said, then with a bright smile, she
continued. "But, there's no reason for me to dump my problems in your
laps ..." She arose and went towards her lean-to where she busied
herself with some minor mending.
Buzz went off to the wrecked airplane, telling Joan that he'd be there
working on the transmitter, if anyone needed him for anything.
Deciding that Gayle was really more upset than she had allowed them to
know, she finished up the small housekeeping chores Gayle had left
undone. It took her only a few minutes. She was going to go talk to
Gayle; maybe woman to woman talk was what she needed, but as she headed
for the Sloan's shelter, she saw that Gayle was walking off towards the
stream carrying some garments to be washed. Well, she would talk to her
later. The sound of Andy's ax, then, told her that Gayle would be near
her husband. She could see him, now, chopping on a fallen tree. Their
girl talk, she decided would have to wait until much later. Actually,
she had been hoping that she could talk with Gayle to get another
woman's point of view concerning sexual things; Joan still had dim
doubts lurking in the back of her mind, and she needed to get them out,
examine them and reject or accept them in the light of cold reason; of
course the discussion the night before had been thorough, and she and
Jim had hashed several points over, afterwards; now, she needed that
girls only session with Gayle.
Joan felt in need of a bath; she didn't want to go against Buzz' rule
of requiring each of the women to have an escort when they left the
immediate camp area, but she looked toward the stream to see that Andy
would be near to her favorite bathing spot, screened by a small copse
of trees. If she needed help, he would be near enough to come to her
aid. Her mind made up, she gathered her soap and towel and made for the
downstream stand of trees. Gayle saw her and waved, turning to say
something to Andy; she didn't hear it, of course, because of the
distance.
In a very few moments, she was in the water, enjoying the chill
cleanliness the waters of the stream imparted. As she stripped her
clothing, she flushed with the memory of yesterday, here in this spot
... With Andy.
It seems almost unreal ... so much has happened to me, since then! So
many things have changed! I can hardly believe I'm the same person!
* * *
Andy Sloan carried the last o three armloads of wood to the campfire.
He was angry and determined. Gayle had refused to leave with him. They
had been arguing the point for some time, but her adamant refusal to
walk out with him had galled him.
He gathered up some food and a canteen; then, going to their lean-to he
packed a rucksack. In the bottom, he placed the waterproof package of
currency, the food and some clean socks on top of that. On second
thought, he put in a small first aid kit, a couple packs of cigarettes
and some matches. The oil company road map went into his shirt pocket,
a hunting knife and pistol belted around his waist and the rucksack on
his back saw him ready to go.
As the architect stepped from the shelter putting the canteen over his
shoulder, Buzz was just coming out of the plane; he saw Andy and
shouted.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
The architect stopped, holding his ground and waiting; Buzz approached
him and queried, "Well ...?"
"I'm going to walk out of here!"
"Like hell! I told you we all stay!" Buzz ground out at him. "Now, put
that stuff back.
"No! I'm leaving!"
Buzz balled his fists. "We'll see, by God ...!" The pilot advanced
toward Sloan, ready, alert.
Suddenly, Andy's face collapsed with fear. "No! Don't hit me! I'll do
as you say ...!" He turned back to the shelter, slyly pulled his pistol
and whirled back around to level it at the unsuspecting pilot. "Turn
around, Buzz ... your hands on top of your head!"
The younger man's face turned crimson with anger. "Why you son-of-a
..." he roared, obeying Sloan's orders ... he got no further; there was
searing pain in the back of his head, shooting stars and spectacular
fireworks exploded behind his eyes, then there was nothing but
blackness of unconsciousness.
Andy stood over the fallen pilot, his face a study of mixed emotions.
Aloud he said, "I hated to do that ... but that sort of evens our score
..."
Stopping, he examined Buzz to assure himself that the younger man was
not seriously injured; all he intended was to knock him out to gain
time ... so that he would be well beyond the pilot's reach.
God! The time's getting short! The day after tomorrow is the absolute
deadline! ... And, that bitch wouldn't give me a break ... that's for
sure! I can't let anybody stop me from getting there on time!
He left the campsite, going into the line of trees, heading in the same
direction he had gone yesterday to find Joan bathing in the stream. She
was there now; he had seen her go down there, but today, if she were
still there, he would have to pass up the temptation of a sexual
dalliance with her. There was just no time, now! ... But, he could
look, he promised himself.
* * *
Having finished her bath, Joan sat down on the bank on her towel and
combed her hair. The sun was warm on her body, and she moved to a sunny
spot, spread out the bath towel and lay down on it. She promised
herself that it would be only for a few moments. Unconsciously, her
hands went to the full, white, lightly blue-veined orbs of her breasts;
she massaged gently to discover that the nipples were sore and
irritated. Then, likewise, her fingers discovered the soreness of her
vaginal opening; she blushed with the memories that came to her, but
the most important thing she remembered was Jim, her husband. Last
night, he had completely dominated her; she was his completely, and
even though he had been masterful, there was still that certain
gentleness with her ... a respect ... a true love that made him
something special to her. True, Buzz and Andy were past masters at
seducing a woman ... making her want it, in spite of herself, but her
husband had loved her all the way. It was a delicious, rapturous
memory, and before she knew it, she felt the moistness between her legs
and a slow, building warmth in her loins.
Oh! What a delicious sensation ...! I'm getting hot just thinking about
Jim! Tonight, I'm going to see to it that I have him all to myself! I-l
don't want to share him with anybody ... for a while!
Joan closed her eyes and let her imagination wander; in her mind's eye,
she visualized how her husband would hold her, kiss her, his caresses
thrilling and erotic on her breasts and genitals, his tongue a searing
flame on her, and finally, his big penis insides plunging to the core
of her and bringing them both to soaring orgasm. Unconsciously, she
allowed her thighs to open, feeling the wash of the cooling breeze on
her almost inflamed slit. She'd better stop imagining such things, she
told herself; she could become frustrated ... and ... And, suddenly, a
warm, moist breath spread over her whole genital area and a wet, rough
tongue lashed upward in the soft coraline flesh of her furrow, followed
by another and yet another. Her loins reacted, instantaneously, the
driving, sensations searing her. She thought for a moment she had dozed
... that she was dreaming ... that her imagination had led her to
believe so strongly she could actually feel that wonderful tongue on
her, but she knew that she was awake; she had only closed her eyes. No
one had approached her; she would have heard them. She opened her eyes.
She tried to scream, but nothing came from her throat, paralyzed with
fear. Oh, God!
It was the mountain lion!
The tawny animal stood between her spread legs, his great head lowered
to lap with his long fleshy tongue at her steaming cunt. She lay rooted
to the spot; the fear in her too great. She couldn't move! She couldn't
scream.
Oh, My Dear God in Heaven!
Now, she heard the purr, like a great motor wound up inside the huge
cat. She recognized it for what it was, a glimmer of hope breathing
through her.
That purring ...! He's contented ... not going to attack ...! M-Maybe
... if I stay quiet ... don't do anything to disturb him he'll g-go
away ... and not heart me ... Oh, God ... please ...?
She tried to close her thighs, but the huge, tawny cat looked up at her
with baleful yellow eyes and growled once, a warning. She froze.
As the great head dropped again to her loins and began greedily to lap
at the narrow, pink furrow between her thighs, she saw that a leather
collar encircled the beast's neck. This gave her yet another ray of
hope. Was this huge wild animal a pet? Did he belong to someone ... an
animal farm ... circus ... zoo? Her mind sped over the possibilities,
while her body lay petrified with fear and a growing sexual excitation,
she could not control; then, she saw a silver plaque attached to the
broad leather band. A name was engraved there. She focused on it,
willing her eyes to read it upside down. The name she read was JoJo.
"J-Jo ... J-J-Jo ..." she said softly, repeating it again. "J-JoJo ...?
I-Is that ... your n-name ...? JoJo ...?" Her voice trembled timidly.
The cougar lifted his head and looked at her ... differently, now;
there was intelligence in his eyes. His name had been spoken. He left
her loins, his head now over her face. The great tongue came out from
between those teeth that were capable of crushing a thigh bone and
licked her face.
"That is your name ... i-isn't it ... JoJo?"
Her answer was a louder purr followed by a huffing, subdued roar deep
in the animal's throat. Her eyes glanced downward and she saw that the
big cat was a male. With frightened eyes she looked along the length of
his belly. He was big ... his body was longer and probably heavier than
a large man.
Suddenly, the bizarre thought flashed through her mind; she wanted to
reject it-it was an impossible idea---yet, it was there searing her
brain ... was it possible the big cat wanted her ... sexually?
Oh, my God! I must be losing my mind ... t-to even think such a
thought! ... Yet ... the way he was licking me ... almost as if he had
... b-been trained ...
The mountain lion backed away until his head was over the softly
curling golden mound at the juncture of her thighs. She clamped her
legs tightly together, real fear of a different sort pounding through
her. The big cat lowered his head to her genitals, again; his tongue
snaked out, but he could not wedge it down between her tightly pressed
thighs. He growled, again, louder this time, and his nose went under
her legs at the knee and lifted them up to expose the glistening, pink
flesh of her cunt. The animal crouched there, his head under her legs,
and his tongue ran wetly the full length of her slit, from the tightly
puckered little anus up over the fluted pink edges of the inner lips on
up to the tiny clitoris in its hidden crevice between the fleshy, hair-
lined larger lips of her femaleness. The thick, rough tongue lashed the
softness of the down covered pussy like a knife through soft butter.
Against her will, her thighs spread and she raised her legs a little
more, bringing them back towards her belly in the classic position of
sexual intercourse. Again, that feeling of helplessness came over her.
There was nothing she could do to stop the animal's ravishment of her
loins. The vision of what those horrible jaws were capable of doing
held her in a morass of fear. She could not bring herself to move ...
to run away. She knew that the giant sheathed claws in his forepaws
could bring her down before she had run ten steps.
The cat's long and huge tongue worked in her with agility, slaving,
relentlessly between her now widespread legs, pausing now and then to
lunge curlingly deep into the warm, moist walls of her vaginal passage.
The sexual arousal was building in her, far beyond her ability to
control it. She spasmed, jerking convulsively as she writhed under the
tongue of the giant cat lapping and snuffing at the raw center of
nerves between her open thighs.
What can I do ...? If he keeps licking at me ... I'll come to an
orgasm! I can't stand it! Oh, God ... what if he wants t-to p-put it in
me ... his animal thing ...? Oh, Merciful Heavens! It's insane ...
impossible ...!
Ecstasy built in her loins; she couldn't help it! The sheer torture of
the erotic sensations racing in her ... sensations she knew to be lewd
... and wrong ... sensations produced by the licking tongue of a wild
animal, were crowding all reason and moral sense completely out of her
mind. And somehow, in spite of her revulsion, she perversely wanted it
to go on and on, now.
For she was no longer frightened. Fear had left her. She didn't care!
God! She didn't care any longer ... her safety, her morals ... her
reasoning mind meant nothing, now ...! God! she had sunk to the lowest
depths of all possible degradation! Soft, gurgling mewls of delight
came from her. She could contain it no longer. She had to have it!
Suddenly, she was aware that her hands were stealing down, down, until
they grasped the ears of the cougar, and with a deep groan emanating
from deep in her chest, almost animal-like in its intensity, she
flattened her thighs hard back against her breasts, spreading them even
wider and tilting her pelvis up to the searing cat tongue that slaved
in the furrow of her soft, palpitating cunt.
She pulled the great head in tight to her vagina, and the long, hot
tongue shot out to race up the moist, pink channel, ravishing her
upthrust crotch without mercy. Her hips writhed up to that horrible
animal mouth, demandingly. Now, as from a great distance, through the
ringing in her ears, she heard her own voice, babbling crazily to the
mountain lion, pleading with him, encouraging him ... wanting him.
"Oh, God! JoJo ...! Lick me! Lick me good!"
Hearing it, she couldn't believe that she had said it, but the huge cat
worked, slaving away at her, below like the dumb, vicious, wild animal,
he was, his primeval lust motivating him; seemingly, entranced by her
voice he purred away and redoubled his efforts. She screamed with the
wild rapture of her loins.
Now, the cougar raised his head and slithered to her side. With his
nose under the small of her back, he rolled her to her stomach. She was
powerless to resist, as she felt the powerful muscles of his neck come
into play. God! She was completely at the big cat's mercy! She was
enslaved by the panting beast that stood over her! That great head
lowered to her smooth, white buttocks, the great tongue slithering into
the exposed crevice between them, as she lay spread-eagle under him.
Her hands reached back to spread the cheeks of her softly quivering
buttocks to the lashing, curling tongue, and she pushed up and back
toward the brute.
The mountain lion's head nuzzled down under Joan's lust paralyzed
crotch, between her pelvis and the spread towel, lifting her buttocks
up into the air, and she kneeled up, obediently, bending animal fashion
to take the huge cat into her, for she knew now that the intelligent
animal had placed her in this position for only one purpose. The
blazing realization hit her with meteoric force.
God! He wants to ... to m-mount me ... like I were another of his kind
...! It's monstrous! I can't! Oh, God! I can't!
She raised up on all fours, then to her knees. She was going to get up
and run! She had to run away! Oh, God! She needed help!
There was that short, coughing, warning growl, again. She poised
herself to spring to her feet, but she was struck a stinging blow on
the shoulders that knocked her sprawling to the ground. Dimly, she was
aware that it was the cat who had struck her with an unsheathed paw. It
was nothing more than a cuff, but it had knocked the wind from her. The
big cat stood over her and growled twice more. There was no escape!
Again, the great, tawny head went under her pelvis and raised her to
all fours, the tongue licking at her, hungrily, as soon as she was in
position. The need for sexual release drove her hips in uncontrollable
gyrations back against the animal tongue that was licking her into
submission.
Suddenly, the mountain lion stopped licking at her vagina, reared up on
his hind feet, his paws wrapping around her waist just as though she
were a female of his own breed, the hard, long and glistening penis was
released from its hairy sheath, the tip of it searching to find the
soft, pink portal of her pulsating cunt.
Oh, no! No! It's really going to happen! Oh, God!
The animal's sleek hardened cock missed and came against the tiny
defenseless hole of her anus. Joan cried out with pain and fright. God!
She didn't want that! She knew then, what she must do.
Reaching back between her legs, she grasped the slippery, glistening,
wet animal cock and guided it to the hair-lined cuntal lips, the big
cat waiting patiently until it was aligned. Then, he rammed it into her
soft, pink passage with great force, the great shaft going all the way
to the hilt, the hairy animal balls slapping up tight against the hair
of her pubic mound. The cougar rampaged into her like a powerful trip-
hammer, fucking her with the feral force of the wild animal he was.
... And, suddenly, she was one with him! She wanted it to go on and on,
now, to its completion! It was a demanding need! Joan reached back with
one hand, a finger searching for the rubbery ring of puckered flesh and
slowly inserted the finger into her anus, worming it in until it was
buried to the palm of her hand; then with insane delight she began to
move it in rhythm to the pounding animal cock that drubbed into her
with unrelenting force.
"Oh, God! Fuck me ... JoJo! Fuck me!" she screamed. "Make me cum!" she
babbled on as though the dumb brutish cat might understand her wild
pleas for fulfillment.
She panted ... wept ... babbled; she pummeled her finger into her
asshole and spread her legs wider to absorb the monstrous cat's prick
fucking into her. She clenched her teeth; tears streamed from her eyes
and she moaned on and on, insanely, her buttocks moving back against
the fucking animal in counterpoint to his rutting attack on her.
Then, she felt it coming to her. Frantically, she fucked back, wanting
it, needing it, her hips undulating wildly, and she was on the brink.
Her eyes glazed, her mouth hung open, her whole body craving the final
release. Convulsively, her orgasm began, her body jerking and bucking
under the plunging mountain lion. She screamed, suddenly, insanely ...
and she came.
"AAAAAaaaaagh! Oh, Gooooood! Oh, God! OOOOoooohh!"
She wanted to collapse, but the big cat drubbed into her for several
more strokes, before she finally felt the spewing sperm pump wildly
from him. The pungent cat odor filled the air.
Joan slumped, sprawling to her stomach, spent ... completely satiated.
She had been dominated and fucked into submission by the giant cat who
crouched over her. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time. Her
body tingled with the exhilaration of it; her brain began to wrestle
with rights and wrongs. The cat was still there, and she didn't know
what to do. Should she try to move ... get to the stream to wash
herself? She lay there, inert, still, trying to get her breathing under
control.
* * *
Andy Sloan had reached the spot just as the cougar mounted Joan. He saw
the movement, was aware that it was the mountain lion he had spotted on
the ridge and stopped horrified, unable to comprehend, fully, the
horrible spectacle being enacted before him. He slipped his pistol out
into his hand, checked it and moved forward a few cautious steps. God!
He couldn't take the chance of trying to shoot the animal while he was
actually fucking the woman. Joan could be mauled, suddenly, viciously.
He would have to wait!
He waited and was an unwilling witness to the unnatural coupling. It
was almost beyond belief. He had heard of animal and human female
sexual activities, of course, but this ... this was beyond him; he
couldn't understand how it was possible for her to allow it. It was
monstrous!
Finally, he saw her wild orgasm, her quivering body convulsing and
jerking under the unmerciful pounding of that huge animal cock. It was
almost time for action on his part!
The architect decided that he would have to divert the animal's
attention, lure him, somehow away from Joan so he would be able to get
a clear shot. There was no question in his mind; the big cat would have
to be killed! Picking up a small stone he tossed it at an angle, about
ten yards to the left of where Joan lay with the big cougar crouched
over her.
The cat responded! He looked quickly at the spot where the stone
landed, jumped to his feet alertly, then looked towards Andy Sloan. The
mountain lion coughed a warning growl. Andy tossed another stone; this
time, a little nearer. The panther crouched, ready to run away ... or
to charge. Sloan hoped he would run.
Suddenly, the cat sprang and ran straight toward the architect, the
wailing cry of the animal reverberating through the forest. Andy pulled
the trigger. His gun misfired! He didn't have another chance, before
the mountain lion was on him. There was a cry of terror from Andy, and
then the sound of rending flesh blended with the frantic roars from the
cougar's throat.
The deep throated roar of Buzz' rifle dropped the mountain lion, a
bullet in his brain. The pilot ran to Andy's body. He saw immediately
that the man had died within seconds of the attack.
"God! I was too late!"
Buzz went to where Joan still sat, naked and dazed, on the towel. He
dropped to his knees beside her; she clung to him.
"I-Is Andy ...?" she sobbed, afraid to even guess his fate. The action
had been so fast, so deadly, she had not had time to comprehend the
reality of it.
"Yes ... Joan ... he's dead ..."
"J-JoJo ...?"
"The panther ...?"
"Y-yes ..."
"I killed him!"
"B-Both d-dead ...?" she wailed, her grief overflowing from her. "OOOh,
God!"
Then, suddenly, they both heard it. A plane, flying low dipped down
into the glade, pulled up into a tight turn, and made another pass.
Buzz left Joan, ran out into the open and waved his arms. Gayle, also,
had emerged from her shelter, her arms waving, frantically. On the
ridge there appeared three columns of smoke.
Jim heard the single rifle shot. Instantly, he thought of the mountain
lion, sprang to his feet and started down the slope toward the natural
meadow. Then, the sound of the airplane engine arrested his attention.
Without hesitation he climbed to the ridge, once more, and touched off
the three signal fires. As soon as they were going well, he came down
off the ridge ... fast.
When Buzz left her to signal the pilot of the search plane, she became
aware of the strong smell of the cat on her body. Shame flooding
through her, she went into the stream, quickly, and washed herself off
and out, as best she could, returning in a few moments to the bank to
dry herself with the towel and hastily dress herself.
The search plane made yet another pass; this time waggling his wings,
and she heard Buzz' happy shout.
"He's seen us!"
Joan rejoiced. Soon they would be able to leave this horrible place,
but a thought struck her. She would have to have it! Steeling herself,
she approached the dead mountain lion and removed the collar from its
neck. She didn't dare to look at Andy in death. She knew it would be
too horrible. Wrapping the leather collar in her towel she walked out
to Buzz.
The pilot was coming toward her, his face wreathed in smiles.
"We'll be out of here before night-fall!"
"That'll be wonderful, Buzz ... but poor Andy ..." she sobbed.
"Yes ... it's too bad ... and I'd just gotten the transmitter working
when he decided to try to walk out of here ... alone!"
"Andy was leaving ...?"
"Yes ... he tried to bribe me earlier ... to ..." Buzz began, then
stopped himself.
"Bribe you ...?" she queried.
"Well ... you know, he had this idea about walking out ... wanted to
pay me to lead us out of here ..." he modified, bending the truth,
slightly.
"Oh ... I see ..." she said, then, "Buzz ... had you seen that big
mountain lion ... before?"
"No ... not until I saw him charging Andy! Why...?"
"I was just curious ..." she said.
"Why ...?"
"I think he was somebody's pet!"
"Really ...?"
"Yes!" she said. "He was well trained!"
Her smile, a secret smile, she knew, concerned a secret, and she shared
it with one other woman ... a woman she did not know, and yet she did
know her. She vowed that the secret would die with her. No one else
knew but Andy, and he was dead now.
Jim was there, now. He approached them, a big grin on his face.
"They saw us!" he exclaimed. "Isn't that great!"
Joan came into his arms. She was sobbing, again.
"It was horrible ... j-just horrible!"
"What happened ...?"
Buzz answered, "That big mountain lion killed Andy ...I shot the cat!"
"Oh, not that ...! Where are they ...?"
Buzz pointed.
"I'm going to take a look!" Jim said.
He caught up with Joan and Buzz before they were halfway across the
meadow. He carried the waterproof jacket containing the money Andy had
stolen. Briefly, he explained its presence, his loss, as yet, to know
why Andy had embezzled the money, assuring them, also, that Gayle
probably did not know about it.
"I'll take charge of it ... and see to it that its returned to my
company ... O.K.?" he ended.
"O.K. by me, Buzz!" assured him.
* * *
A helicopter lifted them out and flew them to safety. They were
photographed and interviewed. Buzz protected Gayle, in her abject
grief, shielding her from the avid flock of news people who descended
upon them.
"How was Mr. Sloan killed ...?"
"A mountain lion attacked him ...! Buzz answered. "I shot the cat!"
"Could it have been the same animal that killed a man and his daughter
five days ago and escaped into the mountains ...?"
"How would I know! He was just a big panther ...!"
"Did he have a collar on with the name JoJo on it ...?"
"No! There was no collar!" Buzz told them.
They checked into a motel. Jim obtained newspapers for five days
previous. He found a clue. Reading it aloud to them, the passage
revealed that the girl who had been killed by her pet mountain lion had
worked in San Francisco for a time as a secretary in an architectural
firm; her father had been a construction superintendent. Gayle was
there, listening. Suddenly she began sobbing.
"D-Did you f-find the money ...?"
"Yes ..." Jim answered.
"Andy was being blackmailed ... all these years. That man worked on a
building Andy designed. Some underworld people threatened Andy ... they
supplied sub-standard building materials, then forced Andy to take a
share of the illegal profits. The building superintendent began
blackmailing Andy ... more and more all the time ... and Andy kept
paying, until this time, when the demand was for over fifty thousand
dollars. That's the reason he took the money out of the company ... He
was desperate! ... And now ... I've lost him!" she sobbed.
They all tried to console her. Jim, finally, getting in one last
question to settle a point in his mind.
"Who else knew about all of this ...?"
Gayle told him, "No one else ... That man, his daughter ... Andy and I
..."
"If I just returned the money to Mr. Kitchen and Mr. Wilson, told them
Andy was killed before I found out why he took the money ... that would
settle it, wouldn't it ...? No one would ever know about Andy ... and
these people ... O.K.?"
"Oh, Jim ... would you ...?"
"Yes ... I would ... and that's what I'll do."
Gayle kissed Jim, then, a promise there for him ... if he wanted to
claim it. He did; he would see to that, later.
After a few moments, Buzz broke it up, saying, "Gayle's had enough of
this ... she's tired ... needs some rest ..."
The pilot escorted her to her room where he provided the prescribed
sedative ... and they both rested.
Epilogue
Joan surveyed the young man seated next to her on the divan; his hand
had wandered up under her dress, along the smooth, white and warmly
inviting flesh of her inner thigh. She looked at him over the rim of
her glass; her eyes smoldered an invitation and she made it clear when
her own beautifully manicured and tiny hand moved to his crotch to
smooth over the obvious bulge that throbbed there. After a few moments,
she led him to an upstairs bedroom; luckily finding it unoccupied.
They were nude and were lying on the bed; he was nervous, but
determined and he caressed her body with clumsy hands. She guided and
encouraged; her mouth, her breasts ... her loins began to respond to
him, and she stimulated him erotically.
He was kissing her thighs, on down to her knees, then he was tracing
his tongue over her ankles to her feet. Around her right ankle, he
found a heavy silver chain with an engraved plaque. He read it in the
dim light. JoJo.
"Who's JoJo ...?" he asked her.
"A friend of mine ..."
"Do you always wear it ...?"
"Yes ..." she said. "In his memory!"
"He's dead ... then ...?"
"Yes ... he's dead ... but I'll never forget him ..." she sighed.
Joan reached down and pulled him up to her.
"Do you want me ...?" she asked. "Do you want to fuck me?"
The young man was shocked. He'd never heard a woman use the word. His
face flushed.
"God ... yes! I've wanted to fuck you ... for weeks!" he declared.
He was in her, his cock ravishing her loins, her soft, hair-lined cunt
absorbing him high up to the fullest. The door opened softly, a head
came through, observed the action on the bed and a man's voice said,
"Oh, excuse me ... I didn't realize ..."
It was Jim. Joan looked toward the door and said, "Jim, Darling ... why
don't you bring her in here ... there's another bed?"
"All right ..."
"Milton ..." she addressed the man lying between her widespread legs.
"This is my husband, Jim ..."
The young man almost collapsed on top of her, his face going white.
"Y-Your h-husband ...?"
The young woman, who had accompanied Jim into the room, smiled and
said, "Really, Milton ... shouldn't you be introducing me to Jim's
wife...?"
Milton's agonized face twisted around to see his wife, Betty standing
there. She was in Jim's arms, his hands busy on her body, helping her
to undress.
"My God ... Betty ... What are you doing here ...?" Milton gasped.
"The same thing you are!" she flung back.
"Joan broke in, "Afterwards ... we can have a real swinging foursome
... O.K...?"
"Great!" Jim agreed.
"Oh, that'll be wonderful!" Milton's wife gushed.
"God! What have we gotten into ...?" the younger man wailed.
"Maybe the fun time of our lives!" Betty affirmed.
Joan's cunt, below, worked on him, squeezing and milking at the rapidly
deflating cock; her lips ground up at him, undulating against him. She
was gratified when she felt the answering throb as he flexed and
expanded again inside her.
She whispered into his ear, "Come on, Milton, I want you to use that
big cock of yours and fuck me to death with it!"
He began to move in her, again, and Joan knew that it would be all
right, as she heard Jim and Betty on the next bed, the little cries and
mewlings telling her that Jim was making Milton's wife want it as she
had never wanted anything before.
They would learn, yes, they would learn too before this night was over.
The End
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