"Fuck me, Randy," she ventured, her voice trembling.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"Fuck me, fuck me!"
"Oh, wow, Cathy. Right on!"
"I love to fuck. I love to feel your cock inside me ... inside my cunt. Fuck me, Randy. Fuck me with all your might!"
He drove into her-plunging his shaft to the mouth of her womb. He felt her pussy tighten around it ... and his juices boiled with a gathering force!
All characters and events depicted in this book are purely fictitious.
CHAPTER ONE
Cathy felt the plane shudder as it hit an air pocket at 19,000 feet. It was dark in the cabin, but she could see the outlines of the big man as he sat on the bunk, undressing. She trembled as she removed her own uniform, hanging it carefully on the doorknob. She wondered what the 200 passengers would say if they knew this was happening just forward of the first class section.
But she couldn't smile at the thought. The giant L-1011 droned on through the night and, in a moment, Captain Charles MacAdams, with twenty-five years' service at Intercoast Airlines, would be nude. She had never seen a naked man before and she was torn between curiosity and shame. She diverted her glance and, as she removed her panties and bra, turned slightly away from him. The cabin was small and she felt vulnerable. There was just no place to hide her own nudity.
"Cathy?" he asked.
She turned then, and saw him facing her.
"You'll have to get me ready," he said. "I'm sorry. These initiations have become almost routine. It is Cathy, isn't it?"
"Cathy Merritt," she murmured, frozen to her spot. She tried not to look at Captain MacAdams' penis, which hung limply between his naked, hairy legs.
"You-you want me to ... " she stammered, unsure of just what her captain did want from her.
"Get it up," he said, grasping the fleshy bulk of his penis in one hand and offering it to her.
Cathy's blue eyes moistened in a fixed stare as she looked at MacAdams' genitals. She brushed back her blond hair and stepped toward him, her breasts full and pertly pointed, thrust upward from her straight walk. She was tall-five foot seven-and her long legs were lean as a racehorse's, her ankles graceful and slender. Gingerly, she reached down, her fingers probing for the mass of loose flesh she knew she must fondle. She had done this much before, in college, but had refused to go any-farther. Now, she wanted to shriek to the captain that it wasn't necessary to go through with this dumb ritual, this rite of passage, just because of a silly tradition that was common to all of the airlines.
She had done this much, but it had always been in the dark, as an unseen act of masturbation that hardly seemed real to her. The veil of darkness had always prevented her involvement. That's the way she liked it, the way she insisted on its being done. But that was all so far away now. Here, in the dim light of the cabin, she could smell the captain's heady masculine scent, feel his organ respond to her kneading.
She looked down at the hardening penis. She grasped it harder and increased her pumping motion. She could feel the veins rise and throb in her palm. The captain moved toward the lower bunk and pulled her with him, his penis rigid, pulsing with life.
Cathy's breasts quivered as his hands roamed their creamy softness, the nipples hardening to acorns with an alacrity that surprised her. MacAdams guided his hand down her chest to her belly, beyond, where the mound of her sex jutted out of a thick swatch of pubic hairs. His fingers slid through the Paramecium of hairs, a single one skating the puffed crevice. She felt her body stiffen involuntarily as his finger, like some eyeless serpent, sought the hidden orifice.
"Relax," he said, his voice gravelly in the quiet of the cabin. The jet engines droned as the plane sought the correct altitude for the west-east flight.
Cathy tried to do what he said, but her mind warned her that if she let the man go any further, her body was in danger.
"No-no, Captain MacAdams," she pleaded, "please don't. It's not necessary. I mean, I'm a virgin and I don't want ... "
The captain stopped his fingering, the kneading of her breast.
"What's this? A virgin? How the hell can you be a virgin?"
"I just am, that's all."
"Well, tough titty, Merritt! This is flight 584 out of San Francisco and I'm the captain. Understand? Neither of us could live this down if we didn't go through with it."
"But, couldn't we just pretend?" she ventured.
The captain's laugh was mirthless. "Pretend? Hell, they'll be waiting for us outside the door. You can't put anything like that over on this crew. Bandy, Linda, you think they'd fall for a lie like that? Ha! They'd have it all over Intercoast and the rest of the terminal would know about it in five minutes after we land at Tampa. No, Miss Merritt, it's no use. You might as well relax and enjoy it."
She told herself she wasn't going to cry. She fought back the tears.
"Don't you care that I'm a virgin and want to remain one?"
"No," he said coldly. "A virgin is something archaic, something Victorian and musty. The hymen's a useless appendage that no longer serves any commendable function. Today's society has no place for such concepts. What are you worried about? A piece of tissue? Hell, you probably lost that the first time you masturbated. Now, come on, Merritt, let's get to it. Linda will need you when this plane gets leveled off. Spread your legs and enjoy a good old-fashioned custom. You'll feel better about it afterwards."
Cathy bit her lip and was silent. Once again the captain's hands were at work, one caressing her breasts, the other pushing her slender legs apart, fingering the tightly closed cleft of her sex. Despite her previous protests, moisture seeped along her slit as his practiced finger found the path, slid along beneath the twin folds and bored into her hole. She felt her flesh quiver as his finger slid in and out of her pussy, the dampness increasing, a strange warmth flooding her. This was not her own finger, but someone else's! She had never let a man get this far with her before!
There was something deliciously thrilling about it!
"Keep your hand on my cock," the captain husked, his own passion mounting.
She reached for his rigid member and found it easily. "She squeezed it hard as a spasm tingled through her thighs. He had touched her little button, sending an electric shock through her loins. She gushed with fluids deep inside her cunt. Her hand moved up and down his cock, her head went back, her own body began to move in the same rhythm her hand was stroking.
"Ahh, ahh," she breathed, as his finger strummed her clit like someone plucking a guitar string. She felt nameless things inside her letting go, a shrieking loose somewhere inside her brain, an energy flowing through her body that seemed about to burst through her skin. Her body writhed at the contact of his finger, her juices flowed like a thousand rivers bursting from a mountain.
"Now," he said, pulling his finger free from her wet cunt mouth. He mounted her, his rude cock thrusting at her cunt. His hands held her shoulders down as he rose above her, his large body looming over her own. She found herself pushing her cunt up to meet him, twisting her loins to meet his thrust. The head of his swollen cock found the entrance, forced the labia aside and plunged inside the steaming cauldron of her cunt. She pushed upward, harder, wanting, suddenly, for the hard cock to fill her. Sadly, she felt the organ stop just inside.
"I'll be damned," said MacAdams. "You are a virgin!"
"I-I told you," she said.
"Take it easy, Cathy," he told her. "It'll take just a moment." He leaned down, then, and kissed her on the mouth. His tongue darted inside, found her own and laved it with a hungry licking. She responded with her own tongue, felt her body relax. He pushed his cock into her, hitting her leathery maidenhead, stretching it taut. She stiffened as he drove into her, pounding the membrane like a battering ram. Again and again, he slammed his cock against the tough fibres, weakening them with each attack. Cathy felt the muscles tug, but by this time there was a numbness inside her that deadened any pain she might have felt.
A pinpoint of pain tugged at her insides, and she let out a tiny cry. A second later, she felt his cock plunge deep into her cunt, warm as a fiery log, filling her with a heat so intense it flowed through her body.
"Oh, oh, oh," she exclaimed, throwing her legs up around the captain's back. "Don't stop, don't stop," she pleaded, her senses reeling in wild delight.
Spurred on by the broken hymen, and the unexpected reaction from the girl, MacAdams plundered her steaming pussy like a raging stallion. Her cunt was tight, but yielding, pliant, yet sucking at his swollen member hungrily, like some ravished sea anemone, clutching rapaciously at his every stroke. Faster and faster he went, deeper and deeper, pounding against her young body with a savagery that surprised him. Jaded as he was, he felt the change in Cathy's flesh, the hidden well suddenly tapped that now boiled over him, gushing warm juices onto his engorged member.
Her fingernails raked his back, her legs flew up with every deep plunge of his cock. The shy, backward stewardess had turned wanton, her senses scoured with the heat of passion, her flesh tingling with a relentless sensuousness. She felt as though she were being speared with a hot sword, knifed with some charismatic instrument that exploded rockets in her brain. Her clit throbbed with a mingling of pain and delight, each stroke sending waves of electric sensations through her hot loins.
"Deep, deeper," she moaned, but he was plunging as deep as he could go. She held on to him, feeling that he was going to release her, stop the delicious torment that rocked her being like nothing she had ever felt before. She sensed that he was close to a climax, that he would soon spume inside her and fall away limp, and useless. She herself was coming with such spasmodic regularity that she could scarcely breathe. The orgasms lashed through her with ever-increasing intensity, like firecrackers in a bundle, popping and popping, explosion after explosion, each one bigger and more thrilling than the last.
"I'm coming, Cathy," the captain husked. "I can't hold it back any more."
"No, not yet, not yet," she whispered, out of breath. "Keep giving it to me, man. Keep it coming just like this."
Her words acted as a stimulus to him. He could no longer stay the tide that welled in his cock. He grasped her tightly, plunged deeper than before and let himself go. His sperm flew from his glans in a milky storm, thick and hot against the walls of her cunt, up into the cervix, a billion hot beings mindlessly ejected from a swollen launcher.
Cathy felt the moment, the strong arms holding her, the gush of come that filled her well and overflowed it. In that instant, a bright explosion lit her brain, white as phosphorus, burning, then disintegrating into a kaleidoscope of colors, a shattered rainbow falling like flares over a lush landscape of pleasure. She felt torn and abandoned a moment later, a rag doll floating in on a hot tide.
"Christ," muttered MacAdams.
"What?" Cathy murmured, her voice far away, disconnected it seemed, from her ravished body.
"Nothing," said the captain. "I just didn't expect this. Most of you dumb stews have been balled so many times before you get your first flight it's like chewing gum to make it with you. Now you come along, a blasted virgin, and I feel a shot of adrenalin like I haven't felt in five years."
Cathy stared at him, bewildered, her soft blue eyes slightly out of focus. She didn't know what he was talking about. She was bathed in a cloud of euphoria that let in fragmented sounds, no complete words. She saw the captain sit up and run his fingers through his hair. He seemed almost despondent, but she knew that couldn't be so. He had to be happy, like she was. A miracle had happened to her, a whole new world opened up.
"Hell, Cathy, if word of this ever gets out, you'll be flying nonstop until you go through the whole fleet! There's something about you, kid. I don't know what it is, but I've never seen anything like it."
MacAdams climbed out of the bunk. A hand reached for him.
"Do you have to go? Now?" Cathy pleaded. He looked down at her. Her eyes were slightly moist, her hair disheveled, but still beautiful, short enough to comb back quickly. Her young lithe body lay there sensuously, the furred V between her thighs glistening with the dampness of their lovemaking, her breasts wonderfully pert and enticing, like melons bursting to be plucked, their reddish nipples pouting little mouths, aching to be kissed.
He was spent, but something still stirred inside him. He asked himself a dozen questions. When would he ever get a chance like this again? When would he feel pleasure such as she had given him after this? Yet, looking at her, now, he knew she was unaware of this, of her difference. She was just an innocent who had stumbled into the garden of Eden and now wanted more of the fruit of the forbidden tree.
He looked at her mouth, full-lipped and inviting. How he would love to sacrifice that virginal part of her too. How he would like to show this young innocent how to suck him off, be the first to enter that hot mouth with his cock and spurt jism down her throat! He felt a tug at his genitals, and knew the blood was rushing to his penis, engorging it. Cathy had seen the almost imperceptible motion too. She stared at his cock, fascinated, her blue eyes glittering like marbles shot with light.
The voice on the intercom jolted them both back to where they were.
"Cap'n," said Randy Keller, the co-pilot, "we're leveled off at twenty-four five. You 'bout through in there?"
"You make the passenger announcement, Randy," said MacAdams, his voice leaving no doubt who was in control of the ship, "I'll be along in a while."
"Roger, Mac. Take your time."
The cabin was silent again. Cathy looked at Captain MacAdams, her eyebrows raised in a question mark.
"Do you want this again?" he asked her, holding his semi-rigid cock out to her.
She nodded yes, her eyes fixed once again on its fascinating length.
"Have you ever taken it in your mouth?"
She shook her head.
"Would you like to now?"
She looked up at him, a pathetic shadow of pain streaking across her eyes.
"Y-yes," she murmured, as he stepped toward her. She opened her mouth and felt the mass of flesh slide inside, past her lips. Her lips began to move, pressing around the organ, pulling on it in a move, her senses locked in limbo, this newest experience completely unexpected, completely foreign to her. Yet somehow, as her senses returned, she thought this the most natural act in the world!
CHAPTER TWO
Cathy suckled her captain's cock very slowly at first, until she got used to having such a large foreign object in her mouth. The member swelled with the heat and moisture of her mouth, and the captain kept poking it in and out so that sometimes she found it hard to breathe.
"Work your tongue around on it," Mac-Adams told her.
She began encircling the glans with her tongue, tasting the seeping precoital fluid, savoring its lemony tartness. The blond stewardess held the captain's balls in one hand and with the other stroked the base of his shaft, the tactile sensation strange to her, yet deeply satisfying in a way she couldn't explain.
MacAdams wondered at his own horniness. Normally, he would have taken a new stew into the private sleeping cabin, balled her, and that would have been the end of it. It was usually quick, fairly passionless and over in about five or ten minutes. He had done this on a hundred flights, the girls' faces all blurs to him. He was happily married, had four children, he and his wife had sex when he was home, and this had always been enough. The ritual of "breaking in" a new stew was routine to him. Sometimes he let his co-pilot Randy Keller, who was much younger, unmarried, and much handsomer, handle the ritual, but he himself kept his hand in to establish that he was the captain. Also, most of the fledgling stews thought it a privilege to ball the captain on their first flight.
But there was something about this honey blonde, Cathy Merritt, that he couldn't explain to himself. Was it that she was a virgin? Or that she reminded him, somehow, of his own sixteen-year-old daughter, Sheila? Sheila was a budding young woman and he felt her sexual presence at home more than he should. Was Cathy a way of displacing his sexual feelings toward his own daughter? Chuck MacAdams didn't know. He didn't want to know.
He shoved his cock back against Cathy's throat, heard her gag and then was immediately sorry he had taken out his thoughts against her. His blood was tingling with fire. Her mouth on his shaft was moist and deeply satisfying. He wondered if he was man enough to ejaculate again so soon. He was forty-five and not the man he used to be, although he was virile enough and in good health.
Cathy soon became accustomed to the captain's rhythm, his desire. She began to suck his cock in earnest, delighting in the feel of its swollen length going into her mouth, touching the back of her throat. She pulled with her lips on the mushroomed head of it, raking her teeth gently along the veins and flesh, tonguing the tip of it when it pulled away from her throat, squeezing it with her lips when it drove back in. She could feel the energy of it, the urgency of his lust. Deep down between her legs a fire raged, and the juices flowed once again. Each time she pulled on the stiffened mass of flesh, she spasmed in orgasm, a sense of power and joy flooding through her, intermingling like rare wine and rich honey. She wanted to tell him how grateful she was, how happy he made her, giving her this, this huge cock that grew in her mouth as though she herself were commanding it to swell and fatten.
The captain increased the speed of his strokes. He pumped into her mouth, holding her head tightly with both hands, driving her back down on the bunk. Her neck muscles stretched taut, her cheeks felt like sand from the exertion of her suction. He watched her sucking him, her eagerness apparent. He slid from her mouth and lay beside her on the bunk. She seemed to be in a daze, a somnambulist in a half-state of wakefulness. MacAdams thought she acted like a woman on drugs.
"Here," he said gently, "you'll be more comfortable this way."
She just stared at him, her eyes glazed as though stoned, her mouth quivering and moist.
He lay on his back, his erection slick and gleaming with saliva, while she devoured his shaft. Cathy seemed to be mesmerized by his organ, by the act of sucking it. This position gave her more freedom of movement, more opportunity to control the act of fellatio. She sucked his cock deep into her throat, seemingly desirous of swallowing its entire length.
Cathy sucked at the captain's cock as though it were a growing thing. She sought its warm juices, gulped its fleshy stalk like a person dying of thirst. She hadn't absorbed the impact of the experience as yet, she was merely responding to the excitement this pulsing, magnetic organ held for her. She grasped it with clawing fingers, she poked it deep into her throat, she slavered over it, licking its flared head with relish, tonguing the juices up into her mouth as they seeped forth, delighting in the response born of her own mouth's manipulations.
She began to sigh with pleasure as the captain's body writhed prior to ejaculation. She could feel his jism boiling in the sac that held his testicles, could feel the gathering explosion that she so wanted. Her own loins undulated in an erotic rhythm that made her pop with climaxes, sudden little cracklings that made her cunt steam with exciting oils, made it twitch like her mouth. Indeed, she equated her cunt with her mouth at that moment, her tongue with her clit. She wanted to totally devour the captain, swallow him from both ends so that she gushed like some Yellowstone geyser. She had lost all reason on the end of his cock. Its fullness in her mouth and throat blotted out all sensible thought. She lived only for the pleasure of the moment, for the racking orgasms that ripped through her body in a series of concatenated fireballs.
"Oh, Cathy," the captain suddenly exclaimed, "I can't hold it back, you're going to get the whole load."
She heard his words and desire turned her stomach into a gelatinous mass of quivering eagerness.
"Let me have it, all of it," she gasped, before swallowing his spit-soaked cock deep into her open throat.
"You're getting it. Now!" he yelled, his body bucking with orgasm.
She felt his cock quicken, like molten lava suddenly freed from a volcano's core, and sucked the shaft deep. She wondered what it would be like, what to expect. There was something there, she knew, she could taste it, feel it: a surging, a tide that swelled from a distant sea. She strangled on the huge swollen trunk she had swallowed, gasped for air without caring whether she could breathe or not. She tensed and swallowed, as if sensing the moment when he would ejaculate into her throat. She didn't question the strangeness of this. It was as if she had communicated with the captain through his sex organ. She felt his passion, she sensed his coming ejaculation. She wanted it. Wanted it all.
The captain buckled in spasms of orgasm. He drove his cock deep as he looked down at the stewardess. She was so like a young girl, like his own daughter. She blurred in his eyes as his jism, flocked as snow, catapulted from his cock. Her eyes were closed and her hair soft and he didn't care anymore. He wanted her to choke, to gag on the whole load. It was all too much for him. He bent over her, touched her hair and watched her take his sperm into her throat. His body keened like a wind through high tension wires. Spume and spume, the floury sperm flowed again, somehow, and he was amazed. He was grateful.
Cathy choked on the first rush of his come.
It kept coming, splattering against the walls of her throat, clogging her windpipe, flowing down into her stomach. The captain's cock rammed and struggled, like a creature in the throes of a seizure. She grasped it tightly with her mouth and sucked it even deeper, wanting to consume it, to keep it in her mouth forever. She swallowed the hot milky sperm and sucked for more. It was like being born again, like coming from the desert onto an oasis flowing with thick honey.
She let the come flow.
She let the light come into her darkness. All the young years faded away, washed by the steaming tide of his jism, the milk and honey washing the desert of her shyness away in a floodtide of hot rivulets. In that moment of fountains, she knew she was a woman and she hungered on his cock as it erupted, drank at his spring, suppered greedily on his meat as if it were her last supper, instead of the first.
Her mouth worked wildly at his cock during the fading moments of his climax. She drank of his juices, impaled herself on his dying stalk, sucking every ounce of sperm into her throat as if the milky substance was a vitamin supplement, necessary to her own life.
The captain fell away from her, sated, his heart pounding in his chest.
Cathy watched him, with sadness, her mouth cloudy with the milk of his pleasure. Her eyes were glazed with a lust that still boiled in her pubic regions.
"Oh, my," she murmured, "oh Captain, sweet sweet man!"
MacAdams sat there, puffing for breath, thinking distant thoughts of his daughter, his wife's face fading like a portrait kept too long in a wallet. He couldn't speak. He just sat there, his cock shiny as silk in oblique light, limp as a fallen glove. His chest moved up and down with the effort of his breathing. The sounds of the jet engines drowned out the fast pumping of his heart.
Cathy looked at him through blurred eyes. There was a film over her eyes that she couldn't blink away. He danced here, before her, like some monument she had constructed out of sand. She looked longingly at his cock, which was falling into the wet matted hair of his crotch, small and shriveled, drained of life. She felt very sad about that. She remembered how it had felt, hard, in her mouth, and pressing against her throat, diving down deep like a torpedo.
"Ahh," she moaned, and got up from the bunk, her body frail in the half-light, delicate as a young tree, flushed with light from her passion, still, elusive, yet like a winged creature slowed in motion. The captain thought she looked very lovely, just then, but he was tired and had to dress himself.
Cathy understood this and began to dress herself.
In a few moments, they stood, flight captain and stewardess, fully clothed, and looked at each other.
They didn't know what to say to each other, so they said nothing. The airship hummed on outside them, and inside them, but they didn't notice. The door was still closed and neither made a motion to open it.
"We have to assume our duties," the captain said.
"Yes," said Cathy. "I have to help Linda."
MacAdams looked at her, stiffly. The uniform brought him back to reality. She was no longer a vision of his daughter or anyone else. He brought his shoulders up and tried to smile. His teeth barely showed.
"Back to duty," he said. "Thank you, Cathy. Have a good flight."
She felt the change and turned to the door. He stepped in front of her and opened it.
They both stepped out into the corridor of the ship. Outside, the captain went forward to the flight cabin, while Cathy went aft, through the first class section to passenger class.
Linda Barlow saw her coming, her brown eyes noncommittal under heavily mascaraed brows.
"Well, dearie," Linda said, "that was quite a long initiation. Couldn't the old boy get it up?"
Cathy flashed her a sharp look that was as vindictive as it was full of pain. How could Linda understand what had happened to her?
"Look, I'm sorry, Cathy," Linda said, as though she understood. "We have to get these drinks out. I'm way behind. Give me a hand. We'll talk about it later, okay?"
Cathy nodded and began to do what she was trained for, walking up the aisles and taking drink orders, filling trays with small bottles and small glasses, being polite, rejecting advances discreetly and pumping up pillows for little old ladies, adjusting headphones for those who didn't understand the operation of the taped music system.
Later, as the plane settled down to a steady hum through the skies, Linda Barlow spoke to Cathy quietly, in the rear seats.
"You're going to stay with me in St. Pete, aren't you?"
Cathy looked at her. Linda was tall and willowy, a dark-haired, brown-eyed beauty who was nineteen.
"Yes, I don't have any place else to stay."
"Good. I know how it is on your first flight. I had MacAdams too. He couldn't get it up. It was embarrassing. I suppose the same thing happened to you."
Cathy's eyes hooded in disbelief. She couldn't explain to Linda what had happened to her. She didn't know herself.
"Sort of," she said.
Linda smiled. "Don't worry about it, kid. You'll get balled by better guys than him on other flights."
Cathy stared out the window at the far towns below, lights that shimmered in oddly shaped patterns, people unaware of their passing in the night. She felt very alone at that moment, chilled suddenly by the impersonal air-conditioning.
"It wasn't so bad," she said, wondering at her own voice. It didn't sound like her own voice.
Linda patted her friend on the hand. Cathy gave back a weak smile of acknowledgement.
A light flashed on the overhead. It was Linda's signal. Quickly, she hurried up to the front of the plane. Cathy watched her go, wondering what was up.
Moments later, she found out when Linda returned.
"Hey, what did you do to MacAdams anyway, Cathy?"
"I-I don't know what you mean."
"He's collapsed. They're giving him pure oxygen. The co-pilot, Randy Keller, wants to see you right away."
Trembling, Cathy went forward. Randy was just coming out of the cabin where she and MacAdams had been earlier in the flight. He was frowning, but when he saw her, he smiled.
"Oh, Merritt," he said. "Glad you could come by. You and Chuck must've really gone to it. Poor guy's all tuckered out."
Cathy blushed. Randy was tall, much younger than MacAdams. She guessed him to be about thirty or younger. He had a slight Southern accent, Texas, she figured, light brown hair and clear blue eyes. He was wide-shouldered and lean, his eyes twinkling as though full of mischief.
"I-I ... " Cathy started to stammer. Randy put his arm on her shoulder.
"No need to explain. I know Chuck. He's good for about two hops a month with his old lady and anything over that his blood pressure shoots up. I just wanted you to know he's okay. See me when we land, though, will you? After I check out with operations, I want to take you to lunch."
"Me?" Cathy asked.
Randy nodded and turned, heading back into the cockpit. All the way back to her station, Cathy was conscious of the stares of the other stews.
Linda was grinning when Cathy got back to her.
"You," said Linda. "It's all over the plane. It'll be all over the fleet before your next trip."
"What?"
"Your reputation, silly. Every pilot at Inter-coast will want to ball you now. They'll all want to find out what you did to make Chuck MacAdams poop out on your maiden flight. You'll be the talk of the airways, kid!"
Cathy paled, wondering what lay ahead for her.
CHAPTER THREE
Cathy waited for Randy Keller, the co-pilot, her nerves jangling like a sackful of bells. The other stewardesses, except for Linda, had made her feel like some oddity on display when they passed her on the debarking ramp, winking slyly at her, one even pinching her on the buttocks, another leering like some sexed-up Cheshire cat.
She felt humiliated-not for what she had done with the Captain-but because everyone on the plane had seemed to know about it. The other stews did, of course, know that she had been balled by MacAdams. But, they had made her feel as though she had been on closed-circuit television the whole time. And she wouldn't put it past them to have just such a set-up. The passengers though. Had they been just friendly or had they suspected? Did she look like a brand-new stew? Maybe her face and neck had been flushed with the rosy coloring of sexual climax. That could have been. She felt a burning still, under the light makeup. The whole thing was unnerving.
And then Randy asking to see her. What could that mean? She had told Linda about it, but her friend had only laughed and said, "See you later, kid." Was Linda still waiting for her? She felt as though she had been waiting for hours, on display like some mannequin in a department store window. If they could read her thoughts she would be totally exposed, her mind ringing with the words "Hey, look at me, I'm normal and I've just been fucked by the captain of a huge jetliner while you all were reading magazines and looking out the ports!"
She was still trying to sort out her thoughts when Randy strolled up to her and took her by the hand. At least, she thought, he wasn't leering at her. His smile was warm and casual, the kind of friendly smile she remembered her easygoing brother, Bill, always had. Bill-she hadn't thought about him in a long while. He was, well, rather a playboy, only two years older than she, handsome, tall, blond like her, a buyer for a large chain of discount stores. He traveled all over the world buying enormous lots of merchandise at ridiculously low prices.
"Come on," Randy said cheerfully, "let's get out of here and go to St. Pete. You look like a lost soul standing here."
"I-I have to meet Linda," she stammered, this being the only thing she could think of to say. "She and I are supposed to be roommates while we lay over."
Randy laughed and pulled her along with him. He led her to one of the shuttle stations where people waited to leave the terminal for the parking lot. The Tampa facilities looked ultra-modern to her. There was a lot of glass and steel, wide flooring, spacious, well-lit, lofty ceilings. The whole terminal complex seemed so logical and neat. The shuttle cars, moving on rails, looked like miniature monorails, tiny replicas of the BART system in San Francisco and the East Bay.
"Where do you think you and I are going, anyway?" he asked, as the car doors opened silently and they entered the shuttle.
She looked at him, puzzled. "I don't really know. You said you wanted to see me and I told Linda I'd meet her in the lounge."
The car moved away, whispering silently out of its station.
"Linda's long gone, Cathy," he told her. "To St. Pete, too."
"But, I don't understand ... "
"I'll explain it to you in the car," he said, squeezing her hand, which he had held on to even after they had boarded the shuttle.
Cathy's mind flooded with thoughts. She was bewildered. This was all so strange to her. She was 2500 miles from her home and was being whisked away to still another unknown destination. She looked down at her overnight bag. It was the only thing familiar to her.
She soon found herself in a little economy car which Randy drove fast over the causeway to St. Petersburg, whizzing over the waters of Tampa Bay as the sun rose over the flat expanse, shimmering gold and pink on the windless tide rolling in. He told her, quietly, that Linda had gone ahead at his request.
"I wanted to drive you over," he said. "Linda drives like a maniac anyway. You should see her on a motorcycle."
"She rides a motorcycle?" Cathy asked.
"Sure, we all do. It's one of the ways we relax between flights. A bunch of us rent a quadruplex on the beach, year-round. A lot of the stews stay there, some of the pilots; a party pad. We keep bikes there, surfboards, golf clubs, tennis racquets, booze, you name it."
Cathy looked at him. He still wasn't leering.
"It must be pretty nice," she said.
"Yes, it's nice. You'll like it. We have three days this trip. Time for you to get to see some of the beauties of Florida."
"I didn't really expect this much time off on my first trip," she said.
"Just a scheduling fluke. Too many flights out this way. Enjoy it. It'll be a long time before you get it again."
St. Petersburg was a city of contrasts, old and new. Randy wasted no time as he drove for what seemed like hours through streets that were sometimes asphalted, sometimes cobble-stoned, and just when she felt completely lost and as if they weren't ever going to arrive at a destination, she saw the blue waters of the Gulf.
"Almost there," he said. "St. Pete beach coming up."
The quadruplex was right on the beach, isolated, hemmed in by palm trees. As Randy led her past the high board fence she saw that it even had a swimming pool. She wondered why they'd need a pool with all that water out there in the Gulf of Mexico. They went upstairs. Randy took out a key and ushered her into a large living room with a kitchen and dinette leading off of it. "Bedroom's over there," he said, pointing, "bath too. Get freshened up and I'll see you in a little while. Take a shower and a nap if you like."
"Where are you staying?" Cathy asked, ingenuously.
Randy looked at her. He tried not to laugh out loud. When he saw that Cathy was serious, he stifled the urge to tease her.
"Well, if it's all right, I thought I'd stay here. We're a pretty close group. No big secrets. Linda's shacked up next door. You might not feel too comfortable with that situation right away. Linda's a mink. She'll be taking out all her frustrations as soon as she gets her makeup off. At least here there's just the two of us."
Cathy looked at the young pilot. At least, she thought, he was honest.
"Okay," she said.
Randy grinned.
"Get some sleep, Cathy. I'll do some grocery shopping, buy some steaks. I know the fridge is almost empty from my last trip here. I'll fix you a meal tonight that'll make Intercast's cuisine look like a second rate McDonald's."
He tipped his hat to her and left before she could reply. She raised her hand to wave at him, but the door was already closed. She took a hot shower, delighting in the stinging water. She was tired from her first official flight and the bed looked inviting. She slipped into her pale pink pajamas, deciding that they were decidedly too San Franciscan. She must get something lighter for Florida. She crawled between the fresh sheets and was asleep as soon as she had burrowed into the bed. The next to the last thought she had before she fell asleep was that she must ask Linda where to get her hair done. The last thought she had, and it was so fleeting she almost missed it, was that she was no longer a virgin.
When Randy returned with a bag of groceries, Cathy was fast asleep. In her restless tossing, she had shaken loose from the sheets. They lay in a tangle at her bare feet. Randy looked at her body, scarcely concealed in the flannel pajamas, her breasts visible beneath the material, the pants clinging to her crotch, the mound between her legs a prominent invitation. He put the groceries away quietly and began to take off his uniform. He hung it up in the closet next to Cathy's, next to his own civilian clothes and another uniform of his. When he was naked, he went into the bathroom where he took a quick shower. Drying off, he could see the sleeping stewardess in the next room. She had turned again and her mouth was partially open, her face relaxed. She looked much younger than she was. She looked, he thought, like an innocent child.
He slid into the bed beside her. She appeared to be sleeping deeply. She turned over on her back, her mouth closing slightly. He put a hand on her forehead, rubbing it gently. There was something exciting about Cathy lying there asleep in her flannel pajamas. He ran a hand down her leg, feeling the flesh underneath. Propped up on one elbow, he looked down at her as his hand continued to explore the contours of her body.
He felt her breasts, her tummy, his hand slipping, finally, inside the pants of her pajamas. His hand moved over the mound of her sex, to the cleft, cupping the protrusions with tenderness as though measuring the size of her box. He felt like a thief, and the feeling made him excited. His cock began to stiffen, rising like a Nike missile out of some fallow field in Nebraska, warhead loaded, waiting for the right button to be pushed. He pulled her pajama tops up so that he could look at her naked breasts. He carefully slid her pants down to her hips, just below the cunt, midway along the slopes of her buttocks.
When he saw her breasts for the first time and her girlish pussy, proudly jutting up between her legs, the fine hairs golden-tawn, his cock became fully erect, a heat-seeking missile keying in on a target. He contained himself, however, taking pleasure in the fact that the blonde stewardess was asleep and unaware of his presence. He slipped her pajama bottoms completely free of her legs. She didn't stir. His hand fondled her cunt as he gazed at its pristine beauty. He had never seen anything lovelier. He put a finger to the sex-cleft, delicately defining the lips of her pussy, tracing a path up and down the length of the twin banks, sliding into the furrow. The smooth lining was warm to his touch.
The handsome co-pilot moved his finger in and out of the cloven folds of her pussy lips, his cock already seeping preseminal fluid. Still, she didn't stir. He felt the wetness of her cunt seep through to his fingertip. Applying more pressure, he fingered her up and down the cleft, finding the entrance, teasing it, feeling it give like a sucking mouth nibbling on a tidbit. He probed inside then, pushing his finger past the puckered opening of her pussy. Her fluids drenched his finger, and the flesh pulsed as though eagerly awaiting the intrusion of an alien presence.
Randy finger-fucked her, while watching her face. She was relaxed, unaware, like some sleeping princess awaiting her prince. Cathy was asleep, but her body was alive, at least that part of her below the waist. Her pussy moved like an accordion under the deft manipulation of his finger, moving back and forth in folds of steaming pneumatic flesh as he pushed in and out, from side to side, feeling for her clit, for the trigger that would launch his rocket.
Cathy's cunt gushed with wetness, the warm fluids soaking his finger. He felt the flesh inside, soft and yielding, a bubbly mass moving with his touch, retreating before the pressure of his probing. A tiny hardness at one point caused him to concentrate his efforts on that spot. He was certain it was the girl's clitoris. He felt it harden and enlarge, push out of a small fold of flesh. He knew he was right, then. He twanged it with his finger, delighting in the way it snapped back and forth, becoming harder with each nudge, a kernel of pleasure that soon caused Cathy's hips to stir in a rocking motion.
He looked at the young girl's face. Her mouth opened again and a low moan rose from her diaphragm.
"Oh, ohhh, ooohhhhh," she sighed, her eyes still closed.
Randy was silent, his finger flicking against her clit, his hand rocking with her hips as they picked up the rhythm of his motion. He wondered, then, if she was feigning sleep. Looking at her face, in innocent repose, he decided that she really was locked in the arms of Morpheus. He wondered if she would ever wake up.
Still, her body gently rocked as he continued to finger her clitoris. He leaned over, then, and began kissing her breast. His tongue flicked over the nipple. It began to harden almost immediately. He took the brown button into his mouth, sucking on it. Her teat was soft and velvety, firm but yielding. The nipple hardened like a young acorn. He gripped her cunt, digging his finger in deeper as his own excitement continued to mount. His rigid cock was brushing up against her bare thigh leaving moist trails of precoital fluid along her flesh.
Finally, he could stand it no longer. The girl was still sound asleep, although she showed signs of awakening. Her moans were louder and her body convulsed with the tiny spasms of orgasm generated from his finger on her clit. He pulled it out and quickly drew her pajama bottoms past her ankles. He tossed them to the foot of the bed. He climbed over her and spread her legs. Her hungry cunt seemed to thrust up at him, the lips opening like a flower. He pried the flesh of her vaginal lips further apart and peered at the pink lining inside. He could smell the young musk of her rising in the room. She lay still, her legs spread wide apart, her eyes closed.
Moving up on her, he put the head of his cock at the top of her slit. He slid it down into position and felt it contact the small tight entrance. He hunched himself and rubbed the precoital fluid over the mushroomed head of his cock. Moistened, it slid further inside. He pushed gently, feeling the opening expand. The excitement was almost unbearable!
She seemed to suck him inside. The going was smooth as he continued to push until he was buried to the balls. He began to fuck her then, his rod going in and out of her pussy. She was so tight he could feel the pressure on every square inch of his shaft. He leaned over her then, and kissed her open mouth.
Cathy swam upward through layers of sleep, the dream fading swiftly.
She opened her eyes and looked up at Randy above her. She felt his cock thrusting inside. She knew she was naked below the waist. A hot flood seemed to engulf her loins and there was that insistent tingle of electricity inside. Her body shuddered with a sudden spasm and she cried aloud as her body bucked with orgasm.
"Hello there," said Randy.
"Um, hi," she said. "What are you doing?"
For an answer, he shoved hard and her eyes clouded over as the love spasm rippled through her body once again.
So, she thought, she hadn't been dreaming after all!
CHAPTER FOUR
She didn't know how it had happened or why. She didn't care. All that mattered was that Randy was inside her with his cock and was doing things to her. She knew she was a heavy sleeper. She just hadn't realized until now how heavy. He must have enjoyed entering her like that. The dream. She couldn't remember it, but it was pleasant, warm. She had been swimming and a man or some giant sea animal had been in the water with her, rubbing over her body. It didn't matter. That was only one part of the dream. In the last part she had been in a woodland glade. A man had raped her, but gently. She had felt that and lived it vividly. Now that she was awake, she knew that the delicious feelings she had had were real. The orgasms, not jolting ones, but ones that were filled with electricity, had been real too.
As deeply as she had been asleep, so now, in contrast, was she wide awake. All of her senses were alert. She had crossed the borderline between somnolence and wakefulness with a surge and now felt as though she had been given a drug, a shot of adrenalin that poured through every nerve end, every fibre of her flesh, so that she was like a woman high on speed. She ground her cunt around the shaft of Randy's cock, impaling herself on its splendid length with a joy that Randy found incredible. A girl just didn't wake up out of her beauty sleep (which had been, after all, only a short nap) and get amorous in the middle of the day. There were no soft lights, no romantic melodies floating on the air. It was broad daylight! And yet, Cathy was alive, more alive than he was!
She wondered about herself, too. Randy's cock inside her was like a tubular dispenser of amphetamines. She could almost feel the dusty chemicals flowing into her bloodstream, a million minuscule particles of white floury substance that made her senses sing like a thousand violins. Each stroke of his deep-delving cock seemed to hook her more, bring her more fully awake, if that was possible.
The daylight, too, acted on her in a strange way. She was glad for it. She liked looking up at Randy's face as he stroked her. She liked his chest, hairy and bare as a swimmer's, rising up and down over her. There was something magical about him, something intense that she would have missed in darkness. His dark good looks, his muscular body, were something new to her, something she wanted to gulp down like a forbidden potion. She didn't care if he thought she was brazen. This had never happened to her before and she didn't intend being shy about it. Not after Captain MacAdams!
Now, in the light of day, she could find out if last night had been a fluke, a romantic interlude at over 20,000 feet in a pressurized cabin with the captain of a jetliner. Any girl would tumble under those circumstances. Any girl would get excited, if it were the first time, under conditions like those. Would the same girl be as passionate, she wondered, the very next morning with a different man in broad daylight?
For an answer, Cathy thrust her pussy up as Randy's cock came down. She felt a sudden sinking sensation as though she were in a plummeting elevator. The blood seemed to drain from her head, leaving her giddy, while her loins burned with the intensity of a steel furnace. A long sigh escaped her as his cock slid down her sheath and sparked her swollen clit. Her cunt felt as though he had shoved a magnesium flare inside it, the warmth spreading through her body in searing waves.
"Oh, Randy," she breathed, "that was soooo good!"
"Did you come?" he asked, knowing that she had.
"I haven't stopped coming since I woke up."
"You're quite an amazing chick, Cathy."
She reached up and threw her arms around his neck. She drew him down on her, delighting in the tactile contact she had instigated herself. She kissed him full on the lips, pushing, at the same time, with her pussy, so that there was a brazen connection between the double contacts. Randy did not miss the point and returned her kiss eagerly, his tongue prying her lips open, rubbing hers with the tip of his.
His hands gripped her flesh as he bore down on her, pushing into her pussy with renewed vigor. When he had first started exploring the sleeping beauty's naked body he hadn't known, for sure, where it would lead. She could have been angry at him; she could have been "out of the mood." But no, Cathy was more than he had expected. No wonder MacAdams had emerged from the cabin near exhaustion! The captain had tied into some woman! And so, now, had he, himself!
He had to concentrate to keep from blowing his come like a geyser inside the warm cunt of Cathy. She seemed to envelop him in an erotic grip, as though urging him to spew his sperm at the end of each stroke. The way she pushed upward, impaling his entire shaft, now slickened with her juices, made it difficult for him to hold back. Yet he didn't want to uncouple so soon. He didn't want to lose this sexual contact with the young stewardess. She opened and closed her eyes, ran her hands and fingers over his body as though begging him to give her all of himself. He was surprised, in fact, that he was able to use his concentration. His instincts told him to give himself up to her, pound her cunt with all his might and let her have the whole load.
Cathy herself was in an almost mindless state of ecstasy. Her body seemed to be part of his, a strange Siamese connection that brought her pleasure she had never known before. His thick hard cock filled her tight cunt like a ballooning sausage, sending tingles through her flesh in all directions. She pushed upward harder each time he plunged inside, trying to stuff every inch of his rod inside her. She could feel its tip pushing through to the mouth of her womb, rubbing every bubble of flesh on the upstroke as he withdrew. As though afraid he would come uncoupled, she drew his body to hers each time he backed away. Then, when he would plunge in again, her senses gathered in a rush of ecstatic sensations, all colors, wispy with fire, trembling in a kaleidoscope of sensory vibrations.
Randy wondered why a girl like Cathy, so obviously in the throes of pleasure, was so silent about it. She moaned, but she never spoke. That she was turned on was obvious. Her body told him that. Her cunt, a grasping, clutching, sucking anemone, shouted the ecstasy she felt. The shudders, the quick starts when he plunged home, spoke volumes. Her clit was like a tripwire setting off hundreds of explosions, a series of them, crackling through her flesh like tracer bullets. Could she, he wondered, be struck dumb by the very experience of sex? Was she shy, unable to express her baser emotions? Usually, he knew, a girl would say something, especially when she was half out of her mind with the sheer joy of getting fucked like this. Some of them would say anything that popped into their heads. He had heard them cry out "Daddy," "Cunt," "Sonofabitch,"-all manner of expletives.
Cathy hadn't said one word on her own since he'd begun fucking her.
"Do you like this?" he asked, struck with the urge to see if she could communicate through speech. Her body was doing enough, but he wasn't totally satisfied with that.
"Uh huh," she said.
"Don't you ever feel like talking about it?"
Her eyes opened and she looked at him, something inside of her melting.
"I-I've never, never had this before," she said simply.
"What?"
"The captain ... MacAdams ... he was the first."
"Jesus," Randy breathed. "I heard it, but I didn't believe it. I thought Mac was putting me on."
"No," she said, "that was the first time for me."
"Holy Fuck!" Randy exclaimed.
Unconsciously, they had both stopped their rhythmic copulation. Then, slowly, he began to stroke her again, delving inside her sheath to the core of her cunt with a steady, slow travel that brought a glaze to her eyes, a slackness to her mouth. He was still puzzling over his good fortune, for he was certain that's what it was. Cathy was one in a million. No, she was one in ten million! What the hell did he care if she said anything or not? It didn't matter a damned bit, really. And yet, her lack of vocal response told him a great deal about her. She was a virgin, truly a virgin, in more ways than one!
"What do you want me to say?" she asked, breaking into his thoughts.
"Nothing," he said, at first. Then, "Well, anything you feel like. I mean if this turns you on, you don't have to be a mummy, you know."
"It turns me on."
"Don't you know the words?" he asked.
"The words?"
"Erotic words. Like fuck, cock, suck, you know."
She bit her lip. He was still stroking her slow, "turning her on." She had heard the words before, of course. She just had never used them herself. They seemed alien to her, part of the world of naughty jokes, giggling girls bragging about their sex knowledge over lunch, crude words that rough men used, words, that degraded women or men, animal sounds that had nothing to do with love and affection. She had been sure such language was, at the least, inappropriate among mature people.
Now, she didn't know. She had grown up so much, learned so much in the past twenty-four hours. And here was Randy asking her to mouth some of those same words that had made her blush with shame and close her ears up in humiliation many times before.
Maybe such words had a purpose after all, an erotic purpose that had escaped her until now.
"Fuck me, Randy," she ventured, her voice trembling. Her voice seemed far away, alien to her.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"Fuck me, fuck me." Louder this time.
"Oh, wow, Cathy," he said. "Right on!"
Emboldened by his praise, she ran the words through her mind, trying to fit them into sentences. There was something very exciting about saying them. A new dimension had been added to the lovemaking already.
"I love to fuck," she said. "I love your cock inside me ... inside my ... my ... "
"Go ahead, say it, Cathy. Get it out. Cunt!"
"I love your cock inside my ... my cunt!"
He held her very tightly as the words of sex poured through him. He continued to encourage her to vocalize as his passions reached new heights of arousal. Every time she spoke the magic four-letter words, it was all he could do to keep from exploding inside her.
Cathy herself found that saying the words heightened her desire. It was as if the uttered syllables were stroking her libido. Each forbidden sound made her bolder, more erotically aroused.
"Fuck me, Randy," she breathed. "Fuck me with all your might!"
Randy looked at her, feeling the sincerity of her words.
He drove into her with renewed excitement, plunging his shaft to the mouth of her womb. He felt her pussy tighten around it and his juices boiled with a gathering force. He hurried, then, knowing he could last no longer. Cathy was too hot. Her words were a flood now, all disconnected, just words, floating to his ears, hot and searing, mindless animal urgings, the pleadings of a creature begging for mercy in the face of a superior being.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she sobbed, finally, her body thrashing in the throes of orgasm. "Oh, Randy, I'm coming so much!"
"God, me too," he shouted, his mind totally blown by this young woman who gave so much of herself.
Their passionate embrace gave way to a lassitude after they both ceased their anticlimactic shudderings. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the apartment, throwing shadows around the room at every opportunity. Cathy let out a long sigh and opened her eyes, finally, to look at Randy. He seemed to be sleeping.
"Are you asleep?" she asked.
His eyes opened.
"No, just resting. Why?"
"I just wanted to thank you."
"Thank me? Hell, Cathy, I should thank you! In fact I will thank you." He leaned over and gave her a big brotherly kiss. "Thank you, lover!"
"Ummm, thanks for that," she sighed.
"Hey, let's not overdo it," he kidded. "And, if you know what's good for you, you'll have a bite to eat with me and then get some rest."
"I don't know if I'm hungry or not, Randy. At least, not for food."
The co-pilot grinned at her.
"Just the same. You'll need your strength for tonight."
She sat up on the bed, her nude body curved like a nymph's, the perspiration gleaming on her skin. The humidity in Florida was high.
"Tonight?" she asked. "What's tonight?"
He reached over and traced a finger over her breast. She winced with pleasure.
"Tonight, Cathy, my love, you're going to get your ground school initiation. It's what we call a 'layover orgy.' Or, some call it the 'layover lay' period.
"I thought making it with the captain on the first flight was the only initiation."
"Traditionally, yes, but we at Intercoast have our own special initiation. But, don't worry about it. We've never lost a new stew yet." Randy laughed and hopped from the bed, seemingly full of energy.
"Are you going to leave?" she asked.
"Nope. Just going to call Linda and then fix something to eat. You, my little lover, can just turn over and get some sleep."
"I-I don't think I'm sleepy," she said truthfully. She felt oddly exhilarated, her body tuned up to a high pitch. Seeing him naked before her gave her loins an erotic twinge. No, she wasn't at all tired, although she knew she should have been.
"Well, neither am I, but I'm going to catch forty winks after lunch."
"Okay," she grinned, "so will I."
Randy gave a mock frown.
"If we try it together, I doubt if either of us will get so much as one wink."
Their laughter filled the room and Cathy felt a sense of belonging for the first time in her life.
Later, when they had dressed, Randy called Linda and talked to her for a long time while Cathy helped with the lunch. When the call was over, he told Cathy what they had talked about.
"It's all set. Linda's waiting for you next door. She's sleepy too and just finished eating lunch. You trot over there, get a nap and I'll stretch out here. We'll have our party later in the evening."
Cathy looked disappointed.
"Hey, Cathy, it's for the best. You won't get any sleep here and besides, Linda has twin beds in her pad. I'll see you tonight." Cathy sighed and accepted Randy's explanation, but she realized, to her shock and amazement, that she was still horny as hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Linda Barlow was a statuesque beauty, five-foot-nine in her stocking feet, and she always wore the sheerest stockings. Her dark hair was almost jet black, her brown eyes big and soulful, expressive of an inner warmth that made her popular among the flight crews at Inter-coast and with traveling businessmen and vacationers as well. She was twenty-five and had been a stewardess for four years, having started at Braniff and then switched to Inter-coast because she fell in love with San Francisco and its cosmopolitan atmosphere.
It was true that her pad in the quadruplex had twin beds, but they were both doubles. They could be pushed together to make one enormous bed, and often were. The parties at Linda's had become legendary, not only at Intercoast but among the other airlines with Florida destinations as well. She was a spontaneous person to whom people naturally gravitated. Even Cathy Merritt had felt the irresistible pull. When she had boarded the flight in San Francisco, Linda had been the only stew who'd really extended a helping hand. The others had been so wrapped up in themselves and in their own chores that they had scarcely paid any attention to her. Linda had been the only one.
Linda was talking on the telephone when Cathy came in with Randy. Randy waved a silent goodbye and left as Linda winked at him. He closed the door, leaving the two girls alone in the apartment. Cathy wore pajamas and a robe.
"Sure, Dale, sure," she was saying. Linda motioned for Cathy to sit down. The older stewardess was wearing a robe that kept coming open. Her legs were crossed, but she kept changing their relative positions so that the robe did little to conceal her nakedness underneath. Cathy sat down and tried not to look at the beautiful girl on the phone. "About nine would be fine. Hey, that rhymes, huh? Okay. Yes, stay the night, dammit. No, don't bring Steve or Patti. Not this time. (Pause) Fresh fox. Right. All evening. Till whenever. Hey, Dale, got to go. See you around nine. Right. Bye-bye."
Linda hung up the phone and looked at Cathy.
"One of the main party guys," she told her. "He wanted to bring a whole slew of people over, but I told him that he'd be enough. We don't want to overdo it your first night in Florida."
"What kind of party are we having?" Cathy asked.
Linda's brown eyes twinkled. "Oh, just a party party. A few drinks, some fun and games, a midnight swim."
"Sounds like fun."
"Oh, it's more than that. Are you tired?"
"Not really. I probably will be by nine o'clock, though."
"Well, let's take a nap, then. I want to fix my hair after I get up. I have an appointment tomorrow at the hairdresser's. Need a pill to get to sleep?"
"No, thanks. I'll try it without."
Linda laughed, opened a plastic cylinder and popped a pill in her mouth. She chased it with a glass of water. She showed Cathy a large bed.
"You can have that one, if you want to sleep alone. Otherwise, we'll both sleep in it and not have to make two beds when we wake up."
"One will be fine," Cathy said. "Why mess up two?"
The girls laughed together. Linda threw off her robe and Cathy saw that she was completely naked. She hesitated, then threw off her own robe. She kept her pajamas on. The two girls climbed into bed.
The girls chatted idly for a few moments; then Linda slipped off to sleep. Cathy joined her a few moments later. The room was so spacious and quiet, the silence lulled her to sleep.
Cathy was the first to awaken. She blinked her eyes uncertainly in the dark room. The sun had fallen low over the horizon, sending its last feeble rays through the blinds that were pulled shut over jalousies. Perspiration had dried on her skin and she thought it must be the coolness that had awakened her. She stretched her body and adjusted her senses to the strange surroundings.
She looked at the girl next to her on the bed. Linda's dark hair was tousled from sleep. Her body stretched languidly on the bed, uncovered. Cathy marveled again at how beautiful Linda was, her body gracefully curved and flawlessly feminine. There was an "innocence" in Linda's appearance that made Cathy look down at her own pajamaed body in wonder. Linda, she knew, had more experience than she had. She had been a stew for a lot longer. Yet her body was as beautiful as a child's, unmarked, graceful, comely. Yet from all the stories she had heard, a girl who used her body promiscuously began to age quickly. Such wanton women were forced to use too much makeup to hide the blemishes of rough handling, the dissipation of late-night parties, the ravages of sexual excesses.
Linda was a party person, but she didn't use a lot of junk makeup. Her skin was flawless, in fact. A dozen cosmetic commercials drifted through Cathy's mind, complexion soaps, baby-soft shampoos and model-tested home facials. She knew that Linda was older than she was, too. How could people say things like that if they weren't really true? All of the stews she knew, in fact, looked like high school girls. Their complexions were all peaches-and-cream, despite the fact that they had to look glamorous and beautiful virtually every day of their lives.
So, what am I asking myself? Cathy wondered. Now that I'm no longer a virgin, does that mean I'm going to end up being an old hag? If I fuck do I carry a mark around with me the rest of my life? Does it show?
Looking again at Linda, she knew she was being silly. Of course it didn't show! Unless, and she almost giggled aloud at the thought, you became pregnant!
Linda stirred then, as though able to hear Cathy's silent laughter.
"Are you staring at me?" Linda asked as she blinked her eyes open to see Cathy next to her.
"Of course. You're very beautiful."
They both laughed.
Linda sat up, not bothering to pull the covers over her nakedness.
"Thanks," she said, fluffing out her hair. Her eyes looked into Cathy's then, and a misty cloud seemed to come into them. She reached out her hand and put it on Cathy's arm. "You're pretty beautiful yourself," she said. "A little bit overdressed though. Do you always I wear pajamas?"
"Why, yes, I guess I do."
"I never do."
"Each to her own taste, I suppose."
"But, Cathy, I don't think you even know your own tastes. Yet. Do you?"
"I-I don't know what you mean."
Linda's hand reached past Cathy's arm and found her breast. She squeezed it. Cathy jumped with the unexpected pressure and pulled away slightly.
"What-what are you doing?"
"Just seeing if you're as much a woman as you appear to be."
"I-I don't understand."
"Take off your pajamas and I'll show you."
"Now? But, why?"
"Oh, come on, Cathy. Be a sport. Here, I'll help you." Linda sprawled over Cathy and began pulling down her pajama bottoms. Cathy struggled and tried to pull them back up. She was shocked by Linda's behavior. Linda, larger and stronger, persisted, however and, with a jerk, pulled the bottoms down, revealing Cathy's thighs, the patch of pubic hair between her legs. Quickly, the dark-haired woman put her head between Cathy's legs and forced them apart. Cathy pushed on Linda's head, trying to force her away, but Linda was strong and would not budge from her position.
"Linda, stop that!" Cathy pleaded. "That's not nice."
Linda paid no attention to Cathy's pleas and continued diving on the muff between the blond girl's legs. Cathy squirmed and struggled, but Linda's persistence was too much for her. Before she knew what was happening, she felt a hot rough probe at the portals to her pussy, worming inside as her legs were forced wider apart.
Linda's tongue slid past Cathy's pubic lips, pushing into the moist hole like a serpent. She worried Cathy's muff as she nuzzled closer to allow her tongue more penetration. Her head was buried between Cathy's legs, anchored there like some clinging sea plant to a rock. The tongue flicked up and down the satiny sex cleft, darted inside, through the tight hole, clearing a path for its seductive lapping as the flesh yielded to its insistent penetration.
Cathy sucked in her breath as the alien tuber slithered deeper inside, a tiny licking creature that filled her hole as it entered, its rough texture inciting her hidden juices to froth forth from the inner recesses of her cunt. She stopped pushing on Linda's head then, allowing her own body to relax even as it began to come alive. A strange feeling came over her, a tingling feeling of wonder, as though something marvelous was about to happen to her.
Linda's tongue went deeper as she forced Cathy's buttocks up off the bed with her hands. She looked like a wood-nymph bent down over a spring to drink, her naked back broad and flat, her head buried in the musky thatch between Cathy's pulsating thighs. She darted her tongue in and out of the blonde's moist pussy like a hummingbird sipping at a honeysuckle blossom, ever deeper, roaming up and down the pneumatic walls of the vagina, seeking out the clitoral bud that lay dormant in its fleshy cocoon.
Cathy could feel Linda's tongue edging ever closer to her hooded clitoris. Her excitement began to flash like lights in her head as her loins steamed with heat. The muscles in her legs quivered as Linda's burrowing tongue flicked against the emerging bud of her clit. When the tongue tip touched the raw peak of the pod, Cathy shuddered. The nerve in the sensitive tip seemed to be connected with every fibre of flesh in her body.
"Oh my!" she moaned. "Oh, for God's sake, Linda!"
Linda knew she had touched the magic button. She could feel Cathy change. The moment her tongue touched the clit, Cathy's body seemed to go liquid and jolting all at once, like a sack of cotton mouths struck by a lightning bolt. Cathy squirmed with pleasure and Linda's tongue lashed furiously at the swelling bud inside the blonde's juicy cunt, poking it and curling over its engorged length, lapping hungrily at its tender shoot, urging it out from its sequestered lair.
Burrowing still deeper, like a badger after prey, Linda was relentless in her lustful attack on the young girl's cunt. She lapped and drank, licking and probing, greedily sucking the swollen bud until it threatened to jerk loose from its mooring. Cathy bucked and thrashed in the awesome clutch of a dozen orgasms all seemingly occurring at once. She cried and clawed at Linda's head, pulling it between her legs, suffocating the older stewardess.
"Oh, Linda, eat my cunt, suck it, suck it!" Cathy screamed. "You're making me come and come. I can't stop it from coming and coming! Your tongue, my God, your tongue is driving me craaaaazy!"
Urged on by Cathy's excited cries, Linda's own cunt flooded with the hot juices of climax. Her mouth continued to work at the younger woman's pussy, her tongue extended so far that the roots ached. But, she could feel the clit between her lips, like a tiny penis, hard and throbbing.
In the twin throes of their orgasms, the girls were mindless to each other. Cathy laid back, her body sucked into pleasure, pulsing with the anguish and joy of climax. Linda, breathless, freed her tongue from the juicy flesh of Cathy's cunt and shuddered, her head still between the younger girl's legs. The musk of Cathy's pussy rose in her nostrils as she gasped for breath. She shook her head and rose, then, from her position, looking at the lovely body of Cathy, who still had her pajama tops on. She crawled up beside her and took the stewardess in her arms. They kissed, quietly at first, then their tongues entangled as they gratefully acknowledged what had happened between them.
"That was wonderful," Linda said, finally, breaking away from Cathy's mouth. "Your pussy was so soft and willing."
"Umm, Linda, I don't know. I just don't know. Nothing like that ever happened to me. It was so strange, so beautiful."
"I know. It should have happened before. But I'm glad I was the first."
"You were and I can't get over it. I can't believe it really happened."
"I felt the same way the first time a girl went down on me. It blew my mind."
"Do you-do you do this often?" Cathy asked.
"No, not often. Not often enough. It isn't every girl's pussy you want to eat. You're such a lovely thing though, I couldn't resist. Besides, I wanted to see if you were as virginal as they said you were."
"They?"
"Well, Mac was on Cloud 9 after he balled you and I heard Randy talking to him about you. Mac said you were a virgin, but the greatest lay he'd ever had."
"The captain said that?"
"He did and then Randy isn't exactly numb, you know. I gathered you and he had a wild morning. I figured you must have something special and you do."
"I do?"
Linda looked at Cathy a long time.
"Yes," she said, "You do. I don't know what it is, but you have it in spades."
Cathy blushed.
"Come on, let's get up. We've got a party tonight. Wait'll you meet Pete. He's got a cock on him as big as a horse and he loves to fuck."
"Oh, I don't think I should," Cathy said. "I feel like that's all I've been doing since I got aboard in San Francisco. I don't want to overdo it."
Linda laughed.
"Honey, you don't have to worry about that. You know the old saying: 'the more you get, the more you want.' Enjoy it. I know that Pete's going to take one look at you and bust his britches."
Cathy got off the bed and scrambled into her pajama bottoms. Her face was still flushed, from the sex and from embarrassment. She wondered what Linda must think of her.
"I-I don't think I'm ready for anyone else. I'm still dazed by Mac, Randy and you. I feel like-well, like a wanton."
"Don't say another word, Cathy. Just doll up and be yourself. If you're not turned on by Pete, forget it. Randy won't say anything and neither will I. But, my guess is you'll be hot to trot."
"Why do you say that, Linda?"
"Because," said the dark-haired stewardess, "I've primed the pump. Now get dressed before I throw you back in bed. My tongue's getting hard just looking at you!"
CHAPTER SIX
It was a warm balmy evening in St. Petersburg. The moonlight shone on the waters of the Gulf, shimmering like silver ribbons on the nearly still waters. Randy had told Cathy how warm the waters were and promised her he would take her swimming the next day so she could see for herself.
"It almost looks nice enough to swim in now," she said.
"We'll use the pool tonight," he said, "after Pete gets here."
"And where is this Pete?" she asked. Linda, Randy and she had been sipping Bloody Maries for what seemed like hours. She was restless and somewhat apprehensive.
"Oh, if you knew Pete you wouldn't worry," said Linda. "He'll be along any minute now."
"The way you both act, he must be somebody really special."
Randy and Linda laughed.
"Oh, he is," said Linda. "Very special."
Cathy's eyebrows rose slightly, but she didn't say anything. Music from the stereo poured softly through the room. The lighting was low keyed and seemed to bring the night itself inside the quadruplex apartment. There were vodka, scotch and bourbon on the kitchen counter, along with soda, 7-up, cola and tomato juice. An ice bucket and glasses stood handily-next to the liquor. Linda had even placed candles here and there throughout the living room. Cathy liked the atmosphere, even though she couldn't help wondering why the party was so small. Linda had told her, though, that for her first night there they didn't want a lot of people. She had begun to feel special herself. Randy was attentive, but not possessive. She was glad of that. She had been slightly worried that he would think she belonged to him just because they had had sex together.
The knock on the door came while she was gazing once more out the window. The Gulf was hypnotic. She couldn't help thinking how cold it would be at the beach in San Francisco. Foggy, too. Here it was clear and serene, like some tropical isle. Below, the pool shone with an eerie green light. It was deserted and the high fence assured the privacy of swimmers. It, too, looked as inviting as the Gulf waters.
"Pete!" Linda exclaimed. "It's about time you showed up!"
Cathy was hardly prepared for the tall handsome man who strode through the doorway, a clinking sack in his arms. Wide-shouldered, dark, he looked, she thought, like a movie star. She hadn't heard anyone mention his last name and for the first time she wondered what it was. In fact, she mused, neither Linda nor Randy had told her what Pete did for a living. She gathered, however, that he wasn't a pilot and that he lived in St. Pete. Where she got that idea she didn't know, but for some reason she believed that he was a local, someone they looked forward to seeing on these flights to Florida.
"Pete, I want you to meet Cathy, one of our newest stews. Cathy, this is Pete, local attorney, raconteur, lover of the flesh, bon vivant and downright cad!"
Cathy stretched out her hand to shake his as he put the sack down on the table by the door, but she was startled when he grabbed it and pulled her to him. He squeezed her in a rough embrace, forcing the breath out of her.
"Glad to meet you, Cath," he said lustily, "welcome to St. Pete."
He released her and his blue eyes appraised her, up and down, liking what they saw. She felt like a doll in a showcase, on display. His easy smile soon put her at ease, but she had to admit that she was overwhelmed by the presence of this tall handsome man. And, she thought, she had been right. He did live here and now she knew what he did for a living-he was a lawyer.
"Well, Pete," said Randy, "the party's complete. I hope you brought a thirst with you."
Pete began reaching into the sack he had brought.
"I not only brought a thirst, I brought some libations to go with it." He pulled out a bottle of B & B, a bottle of Haig & Haig Pinch and two bottles of rare Sherry.
"Pete, you shouldn't have," Linda said, giving him a kiss on the mouth. "But it was very thoughtful. The Sherry will go well with the filets Randy brought over. Are you hungry?"
"I'm hungry, all right," said Pete. "But after seeing Cathy, I'm not sure it's food I want."
"Well, that's why I got filets," said Randy. "They're small and won't take much time to eat, but wrapped in bacon, smothered in mushrooms, they'll be perfect with the Sherry you brought."
"Cathy, freshen your Bloody Mary," said Linda, "while I fix Pete a scotch on the rocks. The Pinch, Pete?"
"Fine," he said. "Now, Cathy, come over here on the couch with me and tell me your life story.
Cathy fixed herself another Bloody Mary, a little stiffer than she meant to, and joined Pete on the couch while Linda set the table for four and Randy put the finishing touches to the steaks. She was in a daze sitting next to the tall man, whose age she figured to be about twenty-nine or thirty. There was something familiar about him but she knew she had never met him before. She would have remembered if she had. She barely knew what to say to him, but found him a charming conversationalist. He told her about his law practice in St. Petersburg and little else. He certainly didn't come on like the stud that Linda had made him out to be. She was charmed and surprised by his easygoing approach, flattered by his attentions to her. She realized that she had told him very little about herself, so absorbed was she by his presence.
"Come on you two," Linda said shortly, "it's time to sit down to the table. Pete, you pour the Sherry."
The foursome ate leisurely, chatting about previous parties, future plans and the contrast between California and Florida. The Sherry had a rich nutty taste that Cathy enjoyed. It went down well with the medium-rare filet mignons. For dessert, Pete poured them all B & Bs, which further relaxed Cathy, made her feel all warm inside. These were good friends, she decided, and she felt privileged to know them.
Second rounds of B & Bs were poured as Linda and Cathy swept up the dishes and put them in the sink for morning. Randy and Pete met the girls in the living room where they handed them the after-dinner drinks.
"How about a toast?" said Pete. "Here's to the four of us on an enchanted evening. Fate brought us together for a special reason."
The four clinked small glasses and smiled.
"Let's make it a memorable evening," said Linda, graceful in a pleated full dress. Pete and Randy were dressed in casual clothes, Cathy wore a miniskirt and boots, a sheer blouse of pastel blue that accented her blond hair.
"For the occasion," said Pete, "I brought along a Turkish bounty, already rolled and ready to go."
He reached into his shirt pocket and drew forth a cigarette case. Opening it, he flourished the case for the other three. Cathy saw some hand-rolled cigarettes. Her eyebrows were raised in puzzlement.
"Ever smoked grass before, Cathy?" Pete asked her.
She shook her head.
"Well, fine. This is an occasion then. This is the finest imported stuff, assertedly from Turkey, my connection assures me. No cheap Kansas or Mexican grass for us. Linda, do you want to light up for us?"
Linda extracted one of the tightly rolled joints from the case and Randy popped a light for her. She got the joint burning and sucked deeply, holding the smoke in her lungs. She passed the joint to Randy, who did the same. Pete took it from him and handed it to Cathy.
"Take a deep puff," he told her, "and hold it in as long as you can. Breathe out very slowly. Let as little smoke out as you can. The more you keep in, the better the hit. It'll probably burn your lungs a bit at first, but you won't even notice it after a few tokes."
Gingerly, Cathy took the joint and tried to emulate Linda and Randy. She choked on the first puff and tears stung her eyes.
"Take a deep breath and hold it," Linda advised.
Cathy did better on the second puff and the other three laughed to see her wide eyes as she held her breath as long as she could.
The joint was passed around until it became the smallest of roaches. Pete lit another and the four of them sat down on the beds, which had been pushed together to form one large one. Cathy felt giddy and disoriented. She giggled and the talk seemed to float around her, snatches of phrases, clusters of words, partial sentences. She lost all sense of time and place. It didn't matter, anyway. The liquor and the hashish had put her in a state of euphoria. She felt very happy. Her friends were beautiful people. The world was lovely. The night was enchanted.
She saw Randy and Pete undressing Linda. They undressed themselves. She sat there, puffing on the joint, watching the scene unfold before her eyes. Everything was in slow motion. Linda's gay laughter seemed to float over to her seconds after her mouth opened. The three naked people looked like a painting in a museum, moving very slowly on the bed, all angles and curves, hands and legs appearing where she least expected them, faces floating like balloons above a mass of wriggling flesh.
The figures separated and Cathy saw Linda sprawl on her back, her legs widespread, the raw red lips of her pussy swelling from the mat of pubic hairs, a wide beckoning gash. The tall lean body of Pete moved over her. To one side, Randy sat in a lotus posture, his hands kneading her firm breasts, bringing the nipples up hard and brown, like acorns.
She watched Pete go down on the rosy cleft, his tongue outstretched. He was as graceful as a fawn, his muscles rippling under his flesh. She could see his long cock dangling down between his legs, partially stiff, exciting in its hugeness. She watched him lick the outer lips of Linda's pussy, his tongue stroking up and down with practiced smoothness. She could almost see Linda's cunt quiver as Pete tongued it teasingly. Randy bent down and began suckling Linda's nipples. Cathy felt her own breasts respond, her own nipples quicken with tiny spasms of pleasure.
"Lick me, Pete, lick me," Linda was saying, her voice far away and muffled.
"Ummmmm, ummmmm," Pete mumbled, his tongue occasionally darting between the lips. Cathy saw the tip disappear in Linda's cunt and felt a twinge at her own organ. She reached down underneath her skirt and felt the dampness. Her panties were soaked and she hadn't even realized how excited she was.
Cathy's senses were assailed by the tableau before her. At times, she would be quite alert and everything became crystal clear. At others, she seemed to be watching a dream enacted for her benefit on a white tablecloth, some kind of ritual supper that had only a symbolic meaning, one that escaped her like objects in a fog with the wind blowing gently through a sea-mist. The more she watched, however, the more her mind cleared, even though she felt distant from the actors in the scene.
Pete was voracious in his licking. Linda was flat on her back, her legs bowed out to their furthermost limits, her cunt upthrust. Pete sank his tongue inside her pussy, deeper each time, until Linda began to moan with pleasure. Cathy could see her body jerk with the spasms of orgasm each time Pete sank his tongue deep. She felt as though the performance was being put on strictly for her own benefit. She could see everything. Pete's cock had turned fully hard, was curved like a piece of dark driftwood, thick and solid, the head of it shining, a thin film of fluid reflecting the low lights in the room.
She moved closer to watch, her hand reaching underneath her skirt once again. She was barely conscious of what she was doing, but the urgency of sex had permeated her body. She was close enough, then, to look down at Linda's flared cleft, see the pink insides every time Pete sank his tongue inside and licked the silken lining of her cunt. She could smell the sweat from the bodies and this, too, excited her.
Her finger pushed aside her damp panties and found her own slit. Almost frantic with desire, she pushed her finger inside, probing for the button she had to reach. Pete's tongue was like a small furless animal delving into Linda's cunt, worrying the meat inside. Linda twitched each time his tongue struck home, triggered her clitoris. Cathy found her own clit and her fingertip moved rapidly over the bud-tip. Her eyes glazed over with a film as the first shudders of orgasm electrified her body.
Cathy lost all control over her finger. It moved fast, thrumming her clit as her loins warmed with heat. Pete had buried his head in between Linda's legs, bobbing it back and forth. She couldn't see what was happening, but she knew where his tongue was. Linda's body demonstrated that, and the afternoon, when Linda had lapped her own cunt, was still a fresh memory in her own mind. Her own excitement was almost unbearable. She was breathing hard, as though identifying with Pete, who hadn't come up for air in what seemed like hours.
Finally, he did disengage his head from between Linda's legs.
"Oh, Pete, my love, you did it, man," Linda gasped. "You licked my cunt so beautifully. Oh, god, Pete, stick that cock of yours in me before I go crazy. Shove that fucking thing in my cunt, man!"
Cathy withdrew her finger from her own pussy. It was wet and reeked of the musk of her sex. She was heady from the excitement, surprised at herself for masturbating in front of everyone. Yet no one had paid her the slightest attention. Randy was still fastened on Linda's breasts, his hands and mouth working them over. Cathy thought he must be very drunk, or else totally hung up on Linda's bust.
Pete climbed over Linda and looked down at her. Their faces were very close as he slid his cock closer to her pussy. Cathy confused them in her mind. For a moment it had looked like Linda was on top, but no, it was Pete. She shook her head to clear it.
Fascinated, her eyes went to Pete's huge cock. It hovered above Linda's pussy for the longest moment, then slowly dipped down, the tip of it hitting the top of the cleft. It slid down the slit to the hole. He pushed and his cock went in, arching into the cunt like a key in a lock. Cathy gasped as her own cunt twitched again.
What an exquisite sight! That cock of Pete's was enormous and magnificent! It knew just where to go. She had never seen anything like it!
Pete stroked in and out and Cathy watched his cock as it emerged and disappeared each time. It gleamed with the juices of their love-making, slick as a polished piece of fine wood, vibrant in its powerful beauty. Linda began to move her hips in rhythm to Pete's fucking, thrusting her cunt upwards on Pete's downstroke. Pete buried his cock deep, and each time he did Cathy felt something go out of her, something come into her.
She was startled out of her raptured gaze by a voice coming unexpectedly from somewhere. It took her a moment to locate it.
"Well, Cathy, don't you think it's about time you joined this party?"
She looked up and saw Randy, his cock edging into Linda's open mouth. He was smiling at her and she blinked to be sure it was his voice she had heard.
"You might as well take your clothes off," Randy said. "I don't think Linda can last all night by herself."
For an answer, Linda's mouth clamped on Randy's cock and she began swallowing it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Numbly, Cathy began taking off her blouse. She was transfixed, her eyes glued on Randy's cock as it slid in and out of Linda's mouth and throat. The sight was so strange, she could scarcely adjust her mind and eyes to it. Linda's eyes were closed and she handled the large organ without any difficulty. Cathy's eyes shifted to the lower half of Linda's body. Pete was rhythmically pumping in and out of her pussy. Belief settled in Cathy's brain as she watched the two men entering Linda's willing flesh, one through the mouth, the other through the vagina. She unhooked her bra and let it fall in her lap. She couldn't take her eyes off of Linda and the two men.
Cathy slid to the edge of the bed and stood up, unzipping her miniskirt. She wriggled free of it and stood, for a moment, in boots and panties. She sat down again, her eyes still fixed on the scene on the bed. She worked her feet free from the boots and pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them and felt free, a part of the group, somehow. Her pussy itched for her finger, but she didn't dare masturbate out in the open. At least, before, her hand had been hidden by her skirt. The three people on the bed all seemed to be the same person. They were all dark-haired and all beautiful to her hash-clouded eyes. Pete and Linda, especially, bore a strong resemblance to one another. They were all connected sexually and gave the illusion that they were a single entity in movement. Certainly they were in absolute harmony. Randy's prick slid in and out of Linda's mouth, slickened by her saliva. At times, Cathy marveled, his cock went deep into her throat. She could almost see it inside, Linda's lips clamping tight on the base of his shaft.
"Come on over and join the party," Randy husked, looking at her through sex-glazed eyes.
"There doesn't seem to be room for me," she stammered.
"Hold on to Pete's cock as it goes in and out. Feel his and then mine," Randy said.
She crawled over the bed, gingerly, her pulse trembling. Pete's organ seemed to grow in size the closer she got. She summoned up a boldness she didn't know she possessed and reached out for his cock. He looked at her for a brief moment as if to encourage her to go ahead. He slowed his rhythm so that she could put her hand around his shaft.
"Go ahead, Cath," Pete said. "Put your fingers around it."
She did what he said, managing to put her thumb and first three fingers around the swollen penis. It slid through her fingers and she felt a thrill. She squeezed it more tightly and delighted at the thickness of it, the wetness. She looked at Linda's pussy and watched the lips spread as the enormous prick slid inside only to reappear again, smooth and gleaming with the oils of sex. She squeezed even tighter and still Pete's cock slid through her fingers. She could almost feel his blood throbbing underneath the skin. She did feel the distended veins that rose above the smoothness of his stalk. She moved closer until her knee was touching Linda's leg.
Linda reached over and began stroking Cathy's inner thigh.
Cathy scooted closer still, her knees both touching Linda's leg. Linda's hand reached higher, between her legs. Cathy spread her knees further apart. Linda's hand found her pussy, rubbed its mat of hair for a moment. More than anything, Cathy now wanted Linda to put her finger inside her pussy. She was so hot holding on to Pete's cock that she desperately wanted something, anything, inside her own cunt.
Cathy didn't have long to wait. Linda's finger pried open the younger stewardess's labia and entered the hot dank cavern of her cunt.
"Oh, Linda," Cathy sighed, "that feels so good. Everything feels so good right now."
Pete stepped up his rhythm and Cathy squeezed his cock tighter. Linda's finger was poking deep inside her cunt. She looked up and saw that Randy had changed position, fucking Linda's face faster and faster. Cathy felt her senses take flight.
The four of them seemed to work in contrasting rhythms, like alternately firing pistons. Cathy literally impaled herself on Linda's finger, her hips moving back and forth to assure clitoral contact. She could feel Pete's cock driving in deep and fast, She had to put her fingers on Linda's pussy and leave them there. Soon, she had to hold on to Pete's shaft with only her thumb and forefinger. Still, the contact was there, and it was more thrilling than anything she had ever experienced. Randy seemed to be close to climax when she looked at him.
She began coming herself, the moans rising from deep inside her.
"Oh, Linda, I'm coming," she blurted out.
"We're all coming," said Pete. "Hang on!"
As Cathy watched, Linda's throat bulged and she choked. Randy shook with orgasmic spasms. She saw his cock being spit out of Linda's mouth and the spray of sperm spurt over Linda's face and eyes, down onto her stretched neck. She pulled her knees together and came herself at the sight of the milky substance cobwebbing Linda's head and neck.
Cathy felt her thumb and forefinger sink into the flesh surrounding Linda's cunt. Pete drove in and held himself tightly inside as his own body began to shake in the grip of his climax. Linda shook all over, as well. Cathy felt as though she were wired up to an electric light socket. They all seemed to be imparting energy to one another. The simultaneous orgasms were awesome in their intensity. She felt herself losing all control.
Before she could sort out her thoughts, the moment was over. Pete was ejected from Linda's still twitching cunt and Randy fell away from the older stewardess's mouth, exhausted. Linda withdrew her finger from Cathy's pussy. Cathy sat back on her ankles. Pete grinned at her.
"Did you get your rocks off?" he asked her.
"If you mean was I excited, yes," Cathy replied. "Who wouldn't be?"
Linda laughed drunkenly. Jism flecked her mouth, her nose, her neck. She reached up and wiped at it. She put some of it in her mouth, tasting it with relish. Randy gave out a hearty laugh of his own.
"I guess we make a pretty good team," he said.
"One for all and all for one," said Pete.
"How about another joint?" asked Linda, rising from the bed. Cathy thought she looked ravishing with her tousled hair and her body gleaming with perspiration. She herself felt oddly exhilarated, as though she had just taken a hot needle shower. It seemed so natural for all of them to be naked as they were. There was not a trace of self-consciousness among them. The thought of smoking another cigarette appealed to her. She liked the feeling of relaxation it gave her.
"No sooner said than done," said Pete, who went to his shirt and took out the cigarette case. He lit a joint, inhaled deeply and passed it to Linda.
"Well, Cathy, how do you like our parties?" asked Randy, giving the joint to her.
"They're different," she said spontaneously, and the four of them laughed uproariously.
"Takes a lot of the old tension away," said Pete. "I look forward to these visits from the flyboys and gals. If Cathy only knew how dull St. Pete really is on the surface. Full of old people and underaged horny chicks."
"Except on the beaches," put in Linda.
"I'll smoke to that," said Pete, taking the joint from Cathy.
When they had finished the last toke, Pete pulled Cathy onto the bed. He took her into his arms and kissed her. She responded with a willingness that surprised her. She felt so secure in his arms. His warm body pressed against hers and she clung to him with an eagerness that soon had her aroused again.
"May I have the honors?" Pete asked her. "You were pretty much of a spectator before. Now, I'd love to dip into that lovely body of yours. I'm sure Linda and Randy can amuse themselves."
"I-I don't know," Cathy said, suddenly unsure of herself. "I-I feel so odd with so many-people here."
"You won't even notice them. I promise."
"I guess I am being silly-after what's already happened," she said.
"Remember what I said about priming the pump this afternoon, Cathy," Linda said. "I'd say you were pretty well primed by now."
Cathy looked at Linda for reassurance. Linda squeezed her hand and nodded her head.
"All right, Pete. I want you. Very much."
"That's a girl," he said, pushing her down on the bed. He began kissing her breasts and fondling her pussy, rubbing the outer lips vigorously. "You'll be ready in no time," he said, his deep voice thrilling her all over again.
Pete didn't go down on Cathy, although she half expected him to do just that. Instead, he finger-fucked her for a few moments until she was fully aroused, kissing her breasts and tonguing the nipples until they stood stiffly upright, sending shoots of delicious pain through her body, tiny flashes of excitement that warmed her loins. She looked down over her belly at Pete's huge cock, wondering if it would hurt when he put it inside her. It was at least twice as large as Randy's, or appeared to be, and much larger than Captain MacAdams'.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cathy was conscious of Linda and Randy getting together. She turned her head to look and saw Linda take Randy's cock into her mouth once again. "He must like to have that done to him," she thought. In fact, she was sure now that all men liked to have their cocks sucked. It was something to keep in mind, like all the rest of what was happening to her. She must learn to do it as well as Linda, for she was obviously very practiced at sucking men's cocks. The way she had swallowed Randy's prick showed that she had done it many times before. It was as if her throat was trained to take the male organ so deep.
Her head jerked back to its former position when she felt Pete's cock slide along the inner flesh of her leg, leaving a hot trail of precoital fluid in its path. The mushroomed head of his prick pushed up against the yielding flesh of her pussy lips. She felt a sudden wave of warmth in her lower body. She spread her legs wider, opening her lips to him. He slid inside after one or two bumps against the opening. She gasped aloud at the feeling his cock gave her as it seemed to fill her up. She almost felt split open as he continued to push deeper inside her!
"Oh, Pete," she said, "that's so damned good!"
"You've got a nice tight little pussy, Cath," he said. "It's real snug in there."
"I-I'm glad you like it."
For an answer, Pete drove his cock all the way to its root, clear to the mouth of her womb. Cathy nearly fainted from the quick and intense pleasure this gave her. Her legs jerked inward, clamping him tightly inside her pussy.
"That's it, Cath. Nice." Pete drove in and out, setting sparks off within her flesh. It seemed to her that he had driven right straight at her clitoris, snapping it almost in two with the force of his plunge. A volcanic orgasm erupted within her on the first stroke.
After that, as Pete kept ramming her, she kept coming until she lost count. She didn't know if she were screaming aloud or if it was only in her head. She just knew that Pete's cock seemed to be everywhere inside her, all at once. She was hardly conscious, after the first few plunges, of whether he was still stroking her or whether the movement were her own. She knew her hips were moving, faster and faster, but she couldn't tell whether she had any active part in their movement. It was as if she was a crystal being shattered into a million pieces by the blows from a hammer. She was on fire and she was cool as ice all at the same time.
Later, she remembered being turned over on her stomach. Then, there was that hot ram again, from the rear, Pete's cock slamming deep inside her, his legs battering her buttocks. She was on her knees, her body on an incline, her butt pitched upwards to receive that maddening beautiful cock of his, going even deeper than before, touching new places, setting off new explosions. She remembered Randy sliding underneath her, offering his wet cock up to her mouth. She put her lips around it and pumped on it, even as Pete was pumping on her rear. It was all so mixed up at times, she couldn't know whether she was dreaming or not. Linda, even, must have been there too, sucking her breasts, fondling them. The three of them were all over her and she wallowed in the glory of it like some animal. Randy's cock just seemed to slide in and out of her mouth, jamming deep into her throat, and she wanted to swallow it. When he spurted his come into her mouth she choked, but she avidly licked the milky substance, wanting it all, wanting proof that she had made him do this, made him spurt his life juices into her mouth, her throat.
Then she felt Pete clamp on to her, hold her tight as his body shook savagely. The shot spume of his jism boiled deep inside her, splashing against the walls of her womb. And, soon, he had fallen away from her. Linda took her mouth away from her ravaged breasts and Randy rolled off to one side, his cock limp and sticky with come.
Exhausted, she slumped to the bed on her belly. Pete, or someone, rubbed her buttocks affectionately. Yes, she was sure it was Pete. She could not see him, but she could see Linda and Randy, sense their presences nearby. That was nice of Pete, she thought, to rub her that way. It felt good and was calming after the rapture of those moments of unbridled ecstasy.
"Good girl, good girl," Pete said to her, finally. "You're a regular racehorse, Cath. A thoroughbred."
"Magnificent chick," Randy added.
"A doll, an absolute doll," said Linda.
Pete turned Cathy over and looked down into her eyes. He looked to her, at that moment, like a god. She could still feel his cock inside of her, although she knew he had long since spent himself and pulled out.
"Are you ready for a swim?" Pete asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"I don't think I can move," Cathy said.
The other three laughed at this.
"If you lie here you'll just stiffen up," Pete told her.
"I don't care. I don't ever want to move again. Just let me lie here and die happy."
"She needs a pick-up," said Randy, climbing off the bed.
"Yes, I think so," said Linda.
Randy was back in a moment with a glass of water and a pill.
"Here," he said. "Take this dexy. It'll perk you up." Pete helped her to sit up and she swallowed the capsule.
"Make us some Bloody Marys, Linda, will you?" Pete asked. "We'll fix up our little sex-pot here in no time."
Cathy felt more alert by the time the Bloody Marys were ready. She swallowed hers eagerly and felt a tingle in her veins.
"Think you're ready for that swim now?" Pete asked her.
"I'm ready for anything," Cathy said, surprised at her boldness. The dexamil had sparked her senses, jolted her to a feeling of renewed vigor. The idea of the swim in the pool appealed to her.
"Let's go, then," said Pete. "Last one in's a landlubber!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Linda grabbed four towels and the foursome went down the back stairs to the pool. The moon rode high in the night sky. Each of them carried a Bloody Mary to the pool's edge. Pete was the first one in, his muscular body arching off the one meter board and slicing into the water expertly. Cathy was up from the dexy, giddy from the vodka.
"Is it cold?" she asked.
"Warm as toast," Pete said, shaking his head as he pulled himself up onto the decking.
Randy dove in next, not nearly so handsomely as Pete, but athletically enough. Linda spread the towels out and sat in a deck chair to work on her drink. They looked like nymphs, Cathy thought, their naked bodies half shadowed, half reflective of the green waters in the pool.
"It really is warm, Cathy," Randy told her, after he had swum the length of the pool twice. "You ought to come in and see for yourself."
"Let's both go, Cathy," said Linda gaily. "We don't want to be the only party poopers, do we?"
Cathy nodded and moved to the edge of the pool. The two men watched her, Pete standing by the board, Randy holding on to the side ladder. She looked sheepish for a moment, then put a toe in.
"It is warm," she said, delighted.
"Then come on in," said Randy.
"Here I come," she said, diving off the side, hitting the water cleanly. Linda followed her a moment later.
The water was exhilarating, clearing Cathy's head almost instantly. She swam back and forth, exulting in the freedom her naked body gave her in the water. Pete dove off the board and swam alongside her.
"Have you ever done it under water?" he asked her.
"What?" she asked. "Are you kidding? It's impossible!"
Pete grinned. "The hell it is! How do you think whales and porpoises do it? They're mammals, the same as we are."
"I never thought of it, to tell you the truth."
"Well, maybe you ought to try it," Pete said, holding on to the side of the pool where they both had stopped to rest. "It's a whole new trip."
"I'm sure it is," said Cathy, marveling at his casual attitude toward sex. She was still in awe of all the things that had happened to her, sure that she had already achieved the ultimate in sexual satisfaction. Now, here was Pete unveiling still another way to have sex. Was there no end to the variations? She wondered, though, how it would be possible to make love in the water. She didn't see how it was possible. Her mind worked at it, but she could come up with no answer. She decided that she just didn't know that much about human anatomy. Certainly, she didn't know that much about human sexual behavior.
Linda swam up to Cathy a moment later and held on to the side of the pool next to her.
"Are you two planning something?" she asked.
"The same thing you're planning," Pete told her. "I'm trying to extol the virtues of underwater fucking to Cathy. She seems unconvinced."
"Oh, it's nice, I can assure you, Cathy," Linda said. "It's very primitive and exciting."
"I don't see how it's possible. Aren't you taking a chance on drowning?" Cathy asked.
Pete and Linda both laughed at once.
"That's part of what makes it exciting," Pete said. "You have to be pretty athletic."
"Well, I'm afraid I'm not very athletic," Cathy said.
At that moment, Linda reached down between Cathy's legs and began stroking her pussy. Cathy felt her hand, warm and supple, moving over the hairs turned silky by the water. There was an odd sensuality about the touch, an unreal feeling of vague pleasure. But she felt the compulsion to rub up against the other woman's hand, as she had done sometimes, unconsciously, against the edge of a desk or her dresser at home. It felt, she decided, like some times when she had toweled herself off after a shower and rubbed that spot more vigorously than she should have, letting the towel linger between her legs long after the pubic area had been dried.
"Does that feel good, Cathy?" Linda asked, her voice low and husky.
"Yes," said Cathy, "very good." A feeling of lassitude began to creep over her. The warm waters of the pool, the soothing balm of the night, and Linda's hand made her feel as helpless as after a hot bath. The dexy made her insides tingle, but her body felt relaxed, supple and pliant in the water.
Linda's finger poked past Cathy's pussy lips, up inside, making Cathy squirm with pleasure. She moved it around, thrusting it deeper. Cathy began bobbing up and down on it, rhythmically, forcing it in and out. Delighted, Linda brought Cathy close to her and began kissing her on the lips. Their tongues met and Cathy gave herself up to Linda's manual manipulation of her clitoris.
Seeing what was happening, Pete came up behind Cathy and put his arms around in front of her, holding on to her breasts. His genitals rubbed against her buttocks, up and down, a slow sensual motion that was pleasurable to Cathy.
Linda broke her hold on Cathy to allow Pete freer use of Cathy's body. Pete's cock gradually began to harden as he rubbed in between Cathy's wet buttocks. She was beginning to see how sex was possible in the water. She could imagine Pete entering her pussy from that position. The thought was thrilling to her.
"You're very sexy from every side," Pete told her.
"She's all yours, Pete," Linda said, withdrawing her finger from Cathy's fluid-gushing pussy.
Pete put his own finger where Linda's had been and drew Cathy's behind closer to his half-hard prick. He began to work at her cunt, priming it with his finger, tickling her clit so that she began to shake with climactic spasms. She felt his cock getting harder and harder, sliding up and down the crevice formed by the twin globes of her buttocks. Occasionally his organ would slip between her legs, striking the lower part of her vagina.
"Just let yourself float away from the side of the pool," Pete told her. "Let your butt rise in the water."
"Okay, Pete," she said, her breath coming hard as the excitement in her mounted. She was coming then and almost blinded with ecstasy. She wanted that cock of his inside her more than anything. She could almost feel its massive strength entering her. It was so close, so hard.
She let her body float upwards while she held on to the side of the pool. Pete's hands clutched her breasts tightly, sensuously. She jumped slightly when he pulled his finger out of her cunt, the withdrawal occurring right in the middle of an orgasm. His strong hands grasped her legs up close to her cunt, spreading them wide. She felt him glide between her legs, his belly bumping up against her buttocks.
"Grab my cock," he husked, "and put it in."
She took hold of his swollen organ and put the tip of it at the lower part of her slit just below her pussyhole.
"Push," she said.
He pushed and his cock slid home, curving upward through the moist sheath and into the steaming depths of her pussy. She sighed with pleasure as he filled her.
"See?" he said. "Nothing to it."
"It's heavenly, Pete."
He held her legs tightly and shoved his cock in and out of her cunt. The warm pool waters entered her, imparting a delicious thrill to the act. His belly rubbing against her buttocks brought her further pleasure, and his cocktip seemed to strike her clit with every sure stroke. Faster and faster he fucked her, the water around them churned to a white froth from the force of his exertions.
Linda and Randy watched the two, the excitement building between them.
"Well?" Linda asked. "Don't you think we ought to make out ourselves?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Randy grinned, swimming up to Linda. He took her in his arms while she grasped his cock underwater and began kneading it vigorously. They both gulped water before they settled down to a less strenuous pace, swimming to the shallow part of the pool where they could stand up while they happily indulged in sexual foreplay.
Cathy was totally oblivious of Linda and Randy. She was sloshing up and down in the water, swallowing up that enormous cock of Pete's that seemed to drive clear up into her belly, touching every nerve on its way. She literally cascaded with orgasms, her cunt an exploding fountain as he slammed in and out, up and down, with that hammerheaded cudgel of his. The angle was perfect for deep penetration. His grip on her legs assured them of never uncoupling even in their wildest thrashings-and the water was a pure foam at times.
"Oh, Pete, oh Pete, my Pete, you're driving it into me so good, man," Cathy screamed into the night. "I'm coming every second, Pete, and I can feel your cock going way up into me." The words finally blended into one long word that broke all the rules of grammar: "ohfuckPetemy god your cock up my cuntmyfuckingPetedon't-stop you fuckingbeautiful fuckingman oh cock ohcuntsweetPete!" She was hysterical with pleasure, floating there in a frothy sea like some swimming mammal, taking his huge cock from the rear, her buttocks splayed by his pounding belly, her cunt wide and grasping, white hot with the fires of the sexual assault, a million nerve ends screaming with agonized delight.
Pete was relentless, climbing atop her mounded derriere, forcing her down into the water only to have her bob up again as she slipped off, never losing contact with her pussy, never breaking the glorious connection.
Randy had Linda on the steps of the pool, underwater, slamming his cock in and out of her upthrust cunt with rapier-quick jabs. The water lapped at them. Linda was out of the water just above her genital area, leaning back as he swarmed over her.
Pete lasted longer than usual because of the effects of the pool water, but his last moments before climax were powerfully lived as his speed increased until his cock sang in her pussy like the needle in a sewing machine. Cathy's screams turned to moans and her body grew taut like a pulled wire with each smashing climax. They came simultaneously on one of the deep thrusts, Pete losing his sperm in a white cloud, like milk shot out of a cannon. Cathy's cunt twitched, trying to hold to him, but he fell from her, limp and spent, the contact broken, ultimately, by the water, as he released his grip on her legs and her body sank away from him like a stone.
Later, the foursome sat by the pool drinking straight scotches under the stars. Their talk was low and confidential, as though they all shared a common secret. Like conspirators they talked of the balmy breezeless night and watched the flickering light of the pool as though mesmerized. Wrapped in towels, they looked like athletes after a trying, but winning, game. Cathy was euphoric, but silent for the most part, content to watch the green pool waters slosh their strange images, a slowed-down strobe light changing the foams she saw every second. She felt caught in a timeless moment, the talk washing around her like a soothing balm. She was content, and more than a little high. She couldn't call herself drunk. She wasn't that. She was four feet off the ground, floating there as the stars ticked above, their movements not even discernible. Only the pool moved, like a tubful of mint jello, too warm to set up firmly.
"Shall we call it a night?" Randy said, finally. "I'm ready to hit the sack."
"Yeah, me too," Pete said.
"Aren't you going to stay, Pete?" Linda asked, her voice petulant.
"No, Linda. Not tonight. I've got an early golf date in the morning."
"Shit," said Linda, obviously disappointed.
"I'm sorry, hon," he said. "Business. I'll try to get over tomorrow afternoon."
"It won't be the same," said Linda.
He put his hand on hers affectionately.
"I know. I'm sorry."
The three got up and Cathy sat there, unsure of herself.
"Come on, Cath," Pete said. "Beddy-bye time."
"Oh, okay," she said, rising with an effort. She was unsteady on her feet. She had been all right as long as she had lain on the chaise lounge. Now, she felt the effects of the booze and the dexamil wearing off. Linda took her arm. The men walked up the stairs first, Linda leading Cathy gently in a zigzag pattern across the decking.
"Stay with me a few minutes before you go over to Randy's," Linda whispered to her. "I need to talk to someone."
"Sure," said Cathy, her voice slightly slurred.
Pete dressed quickly and kissed Linda and Cathy goodnight. He was gone and Linda told Randy that Cathy would be along shortly.
"We want to talk girl-talk first," she told Randy. He gave her a look, but graciously kissed her.
"See you after a while, Cathy," he said. "I'll have the bed warmed up for you. The door'll be open."
"Okay, Randy," Cathy said.
When he was gone, Linda helped her dress. "In. case someone sees you outside," she told her. "They might get the right idea."
They sat at the table where Linda had poured them both small glasses of B & B.
"What did you want to talk to me about, Linda?"
"Several things, I guess. Cathy, I know this has been a new experience for you. All of it. You were a virgin when you climbed on the plane in San Francisco and now you've compressed a child's growing-up time into a couple of days of sexual enlightenment."
"I guess I have at that," Cathy admitted, wondering what Linda was driving at.
"It probably won't make any sense until you're able to get off to one side and look at things. Right now you're high on good weed, booze and sex. You might have a letdown. If you do, just think of me as your friend."
"I will," Cathy promised.
"But, I guess the main thing I wanted to talk to you about was Pete. He likes you. I can tell."
"I like him too."
"I know you do. I just wanted to-well-I don't really know how to say this. It sounds catty almost any way I put it."
"I understand."
"Do you? Really, Cathy? I don't think so, but I'll try to come out with it, anyway. Pete will hurt you. Be careful. Don't get too wrapped up with him. You'll think he's in the palm of your hand and suddenly he's like smoke-gone! I've seen him break hearts before."
"Sounds like you've got a crush on him yourself, Linda."
Something like pain shaded Linda's eyes at that moment. She looked hard at Cathy, and Cathy winced to see the look on Linda's face.
"No, Cathy, you've got it wrong. I love Pete. He loves me. I'm telling you this for your own good. Be careful. Don't give all of yourself up to him. He'll be fine as long as you're cool. Once he sees you're hung up on him, well, he can't help himself. He's a heartbreaker."
"How do you know so much?" Cathy asked, suspiciously.
Linda looked at her a long moment before answering. The pain was there in her eyes.
"He's my brother," Linda said. "His full name is Peter Chester Barlow."
CHAPTER NINE
Cathy slept until late afternoon the next day. When she awoke, Randy was gone. Sleepily, she managed to stagger into the shower where she came fully awake under a cold needle shower. After she had dressed in sun shorts and a halter she saw the note in the kitchen. It was from Randy and told her that he was on the beach with a cooler full of beer, hard-boiled eggs, sandwiches and potato chips. Cathy looked at her watch and saw that it was after two o'clock. Suddenly, she was famished.
The sun rode high in the sky. The beach was almost deserted back of the quadruplex. Randy waved to her as she strolled through the sand, perspiration from the high humidity already beginning to glisten on her arms and legs. She sat down next to Randy. He handed her a beer which she took eagerly.
"Where's Linda?" Cathy asked.
"Still asleep, I imagine."
"Seen Pete?"
Randy looked at her. "No, I haven't seen him. Did you know that he was Linda's brother?"
"Yes, she told me last night."
"She must like you. They don't give it out to strangers. They grew up together in the South where incest is more common than where you were raised. They're very close."
"I could see that last night," Cathy said drily.
"Does it bother you?"
"I don't know. I have a brother myself, you know. I can't imagine ever doing anything with him. He's older than I am and travels around the world. I hardly ever see him."
"Did you ever think about it? Balling your brother, I mean."
Cathy flushed slightly.
"No, Randy. How can you say a thing like that?"
"Forget it, Cathy. How do you feel?"
"Actually, I feel pretty good. Considering."
"I know what you mean. When I woke up, I realized I had one too many boozes last night. I feel great now, though, after splashing in the Gulf to wipe away the cobwebs."
"The sand is warm," she said.
"You know what they say about Florida, Cathy. If you get sand in your shoes you're hooked."
Cathy looked down at her thongs.
"Well, I guess I'm hooked," she laughed. "It is so nice here. Peaceful and warm. No fog."
"Not like Sutro's, is it?"
"No," she grinned, "it's not like the beach there."
Later, she swam in the shallow waters of the Gulf, floating easily on the salty water. She and Randy played tag for awhile until her appetite brought her back to the wide beach towel and the picnic basket. She ate a boiled egg and a sandwich, then lay back to get a tan. The afternoon dwindled away as Randy fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. She too, finally fell asleep after turning over on her stomach.
Linda woke them up toward dusk.
"Hey, you two," she said. "It's getting dark."
"Oooh, I'm sunburned," Cathy said, feeling her shoulders.
"I'll rub you with some cream," Linda said. "I'm sorry I missed your picnic. I slept so long my eyes got puffy and I spent the last hour trying to make myself presentable for tomorrow's flight back to San Fran."
The three of them walked back up to the apartments where Linda told them she had a dinner date.
"Didn't Pete come over?" Cathy asked.
"No," Linda said, shooting Cathy a searching look, "he called and said he was tied up. I think he's out motorcycling with his buddies, frankly. He said he'd see us the next time we got in."
"Oh," said Cathy, obviously disappointed. She tried to hide her feelings from Linda, however. She felt uncomfortable, knowing that Linda and Pete were brother and sister. She had never run into such a situation before. It was best, she thought, to appear casual about Pete. Perhaps, she reasoned, she shouldn't mention him too much.
"Well, Cathy," said Randy, "let's go have some steak and lobster ourselves. First, though, I'll call Tampa and check tomorrow's weather. We'll see you tomorrow, Linda."
"Right. Have fun, you two."
When they parted, Cathy was suddenly suspicious and jealous. She was sure that Linda was having dinner with Pete. If so, she thought, it was very selfish of her. A minute later she was admonishing herself for being so petty. Accusing Linda of something when she had no proof. Besides, Linda wasn't a liar. Why was she acting this way? Maybe she liked Pete more than she realized. There was something mysterious about him, something intriguing. And it wasn't all sex. The fact that he had been balling his sister added to his mystique, however. She couldn't deny that. But, there was something else about him. She decided not to think about him anymore. She was with Randy and he was man enough for any woman!
The flight back to San Francisco was uneventful. Cathy took some kidding from the other stews, but she realized that she could handle it. After her experiences in Florida, she no longer felt like some kind of sexual freak.
Randy had assured her that most of the single people who flew with the various airlines indulged in similar sexual behavior.
She was paired, on that flight, with Sue Everly, a girl she knew only slightly. She was a redhead, well filled-out, not as tall as Linda or Cathy herself, with a pleasant outgoing personality. Her breasts were large and yet not out of proportion with the rest of her body. She had startling green eyes that blended strikingly with her copper hair. Cathy liked her and was pleased when Sue asked her to be her roommate in San Francisco.
"I live on Oak Street right on the panhandle," Sue told her. "My other roomie got transferred to Chicago so I have this big old flat. Cheap too. I pay only a hundred-twenty-five a month for it. You could pay fifty and we'll share the groceries and utilities."
"Why, thank you, Sue. I'd like that very much. Can I move in right away?"
"Sure can. I'll take you over there after we check out. It's a groovy neighborhood."
"I know. I used to go to the panhandle and read, then walk over to the park, visit the Aquarium and the Museum."
"Great. We'll have a ball!"
Cathy wanted to be on her own and she knew Linda lived with a man in San Francisco. She herself hated to be alone and pitied the girls who stayed at hotels. These were stews who didn't like housework and liked to meet rich men in hopes that they could marry and get out of working altogether. Sue's offer was just what she needed.
Before they landed, she saw Randy briefly. His face was dark and sad.
"What's the matter, Randy?" she had whispered to him when she brought him coffee aft of the flight cabin.
"It's Mac," he said. "He's dead."
"Captain MacAdams? Dead?"
"Heart attack. It happened back in Tampa. We just got word."
"Why, that's terrible," Cathy said.
"I know. He checked out on his last physical, I thought. It was sudden, I guess."
The word passed around to the other stews before the landing in San Francisco. Cathy was stunned by the news and yet knew it wouldn't do to break up in front of the passengers. She held her emotions in check until after she had checked out with Sue and Linda. The captain of her flight, Jim Paulson, gave her a funny look when they disembarked. Cathy wondered why until Linda told her something that gave her cause for concern.
"Cathy, don't let this get you down," Linda said. "They're saying that Mac screwed himself into a heart attack. With you. It's bullshit, of course. But, you may get feedback on it."
"I know. I just wanted to warn you. Paulson was a good friend of Mac's. He's a bastard and he's the one spreading the word. He knew Mac had performed the 'rites of passage' with you on the flight out."
"I-I just don't know what to say," Cathy said.
"Don't say anything. Just keep your mouth shut. And stay away from Paulson."
"I will. And thanks, Linda."
"Here's my phone number. Call me if you need me. I don't know if we'll be together on the next flight to Tampa or not. Also, I have a message for you."
"For me?"
"From Pete. He says you and he have a date the next time you're out."
Cathy beamed.
"That's wonderful. Thanks, Linda. Some good news with the bad."
"Yes," Linda said wryly. And then she was gone. Sue met her at the taxi stand and they rode into the city, with Sue talking all the time about things far removed from Cathy's own thoughts. She was grateful, however. She didn't want to think about Mac and Sue's chatter didn't allow her to think of Pete and the message he'd left with Linda.
It was fun moving in with Sue. Two taxi rides completed Cathy's task, with Sue helping her. She had her own room and delighted in the spacious flat that overlooked the green sward of the panhandle, that strip of park, tree-dotted, that led to Golden Gate Park. Cathy called Linda and gave her Sue's phone number so that communications could be established. Linda said she was going to the beach the next day and invited Cathy along, but she declined, not wanting to leave her new home so soon. Instead, she told Linda, she and Sue were going to get better acquainted and relax before their next trip.
Two days later, Linda flew to Texas while Cathy and Sue made a San Diego trip that was routine and uneventful. It was a quick round-trip and hardly seemed like work-more like an excursion at which she was the gracious hostess to a lot of preoccupied businessmen and some old ladies going to Sea World.
That night, Randy called her and wondered if she were free. Glad for the diversion, she told him she was.
"How about dinner at my apartment?" he asked. "Italian interest you?"
"Sure," she said. "Give me the address."
"I'll pick you up at seven. How's that?"
"Fine, Randy. I guess we fly to Tampa together tomorrow."
"Right. Paulson's the pilot."
Cathy had a sinking feeling, but she kept it from her voice.
"See you at seven," she said.
"Bring your overnight kit."
Thrilled, she hung up the phone and told Sue the good news.
"That'll work out great," said Sue. "I ran into this stockbroker and gave him my number. He wants to take me out. Maybe I'll lure him into my bed if you're not going to be here. Not that it would make any difference, but he's shy, I think."
"He must be young," said Cathy.
"Young and rich," said Sue. "The way I like 'em."
Cathy looked forward to seeing Randy. Somehow, she thought of him in connection with Pete and she missed Pete. They had never been alone together as she and Randy had been. That made her sad. She loved Pete's body and the powerful way he made love, but she felt disappointed that she had had to share her experiences with him in front of others. She was hoping that when they met again she could be alone with him.
What had happened to her in Florida seemed as much an initiation as what had happened to her on the plane with Captain MacAdams. And, she couldn't help thinking of that middle-aged man as she had known him for that brief fragile time. She was sorry he was gone. He had given her so much and she had probably contributed to his death. She felt guilty about it, at times, although she knew in her heart that she wasn't to blame. She couldn't forget that MacAdams had been the first, however, and that it was he who had opened up a whole new world to her. Now, she wondered just where her new knowledge about herself and others would lead her. In some ways, the uncertain future was frightening. There was still so much she didn't know. Everything had happened so fast and she felt as though she were on an island, by herself, with a sea of doubts foaming around her.
She was waiting for Randy to pick her up when Sue called her to the phone.
"For me? Who is it?"
"It sounded like Linda," said Sue. "An inebriated Linda."
Cathy picked up the telephone.
"Linda?"
"Right on, Cathy. You busy?"
"Yes. Randy's picking me up. I'm having dinner with him."
"Oh, too bad, doll. You'll never guess who I ran into on my last trip. A really swinging dude. He boarded in Houston and is here with me in San Francisco."
Linda's words were slurred and Cathy knew she was stoned on something.
"Who is it?"
"You'll never guess."
"Well, why don't you tell me, Linda."
"Here, I'll let you talk to him yourself. Talk about coincidences. We got to talking and I enticed him up to my apartment. Shame on you for not telling me!"
"Telling you what? Linda, don't keep me in suspense. Who's there with you?"
"Here, let him tell you, doll," Linda said.
A moment later, Cathy heard a familiar voice over the phone. A chill ran up her spine as she realized who it was.
"Hi, Cath. I ran into a friend of yours down Houston way. A very charming young lady."
"Bill!" Cathy exclaimed. "I had no idea! I thought you were in New York." It was her brother.
"I was. Then I had to close a deal in Houston and I have about a week's work here in 'Frisco. How're you?"
"Why, just fine. I'm leaving for Tampa tomorrow, though."
"Hey, too bad, Cath. Was hoping I could see you. Got plans tonight though. With little Linda here. She's some chick."
"Bill?"
"Yes, Cathy?"
"Oh, nothing. When will I see you, then?"
"We'll run into each other. You know me. Airplanes are my second home."
Cathy heard the doorbell ring and knew it was Randy. She wanted to talk to her brother some more, but she didn't want to hold up Randy.
"I-I've got to go, Billy. You have a good time. Hope to see you soon."
"Oh, I'll have a good time, all right. Linda's assured me of that. You take care."
She said goodbye and hung up the phone. Sue had let Randy in. She grabbed her coat and purse, while Randy took her overnight case. They left before she had time to collect her thoughts.
CHAPTER TEN
Randy's apartment was in Daly City, just off the Bayshore Freeway. He told Cathy that it was easier for him to get to the airport from there. He had previously lived on Russian Hill, however. His apartment was simple and masculine and she gathered that he didn't invite many people to it. It wasn't a party pad like the quad apartment in St. Petersburg. There were a lot of models of airplanes, including the L-1011 and the 747. There were also fighter planes on stands, a library of aviation books and many of the classics in philosophy from Plato to Buckminster Fuller. There were books by Ernest K. Gann and Richard Bach, and a book by St. Exupery called Night Flight. On the coffee table were copies of Playboy and Penthouse. Cathy noticed that he also appeared to read Time and Newsweek. She wondered when he had time to read. Pilots always seemed to be flying, either in their own private planes or in the company's.
"What do I smell?" she asked.
"Your supper, my sweet," Randy said with mock gallantry, affecting an accent. "Cooking is one of my hobbies."
"Smells delicious. What is it?"
"Begging your pardon, mademoiselle, but it's a surprise. First we ply you with drink while bragging about our bachelor's pad and our sexual prowess. Then we sit down to the table and I explain the gourmet's secret."
Cathy laughed.
"Actually," Randy said, returning to his normal voice, "it is a simple meal cooked these many hours in a crock pot."
"A crock pot?"
"A crock pot," he said, taking off her coat and hanging it on a rack behind his small wet bar. "That allows me to run my errands and pick up lovely young stewardesses during the day and mix them cocktails. I put the meal inside in the morning and it cooks slow all day at a cost of about three pennies."
"Marvelous!" Cathy said, catching his mood. "You are a fascinating pilot, m'sieu."
"Ah, you speak French."
"Un peu," she said.
"Well, I don't," he laughed. "Name your poison."
"I'll have whatever you're having, Randy."
"Very dry vodka martinis, then. With a Spanish olive and a slice of cucumber."
"Cucumber?"
"Which gives it a fresh frosty taste. Oh, you'll enjoy it, I assure you."
She watched him pour the vodka into a shaker, splash in a few drops of dry Vermouth. He sliced the cucumber and plopped olives speared on tiny plastic swords into the empty glasses. He shook the shaker and poured the martinis.
"Here's to you," he said, handing her a glass and admiring her beauty. Cathy was dressed in a short pleated skirt, knee-length patent leather boots and turtleneck sweater. She wore earrings but no other jewelry. Her soft leather coat had hidden her charms but they were in full evidence now that he had hung it up behind the bar.
She tasted the martini. It was cool and delicious.
"Ummm, nice," she said.
He showed her around the apartment and she commented on his tastes. The furniture was modern for the most part, with a masculine simplicity. His bed was king-sized, the bedroom decorated with paintings of birds in flight, original oils, he told her, collected on his travels across the United States.
They had another martini each before he sat her at the Danish Modern dining table. She begged to help, but he wouldn't hear of. it. "You're my guest and you'll be treated like a queen," he said.
He did show her the crock pot, a three-and-a half quart variety, on the counter in his small but neat kitchen.
The food was delicious: chicken breasts wrapped in bacon, simmered over dried beef and drenched in cream of mushroom and sour cream sauce. The salad was tossed with thick, home-made blue cheese dressing. Broccoli in cheese sauce was the vegetable. Cathy complimented him on his cookery and surprised him by eating two breasts.
"I can't stand girls who eat like birds," he told her. "There's more if you want it."
"No thanks. This is very rich and I'm stuffed."
He put soft music on the stereo and they sat on the couch, afterwards, sipping Schnapps. Cathy felt a glow from the food and the Schnapps. When Randy put a hand on one of her breasts, she turned to him eagerly. He kissed her, then reached for one of her hands. He put it on his lap.
She could feel the lump in his trousers.
"Rub me," he whispered.
She began to move her hand over the hard ball of his genitals, feeling the mass stiffen and straighten out. He reached his hand up underneath her sweater and began to knead one of her breasts. She was glad she had decided to go braless. There was no awkward fumbling and his hand felt good wandering back and forth between her two breasts. Her little nubs of nipples began to harden.
"Take my cock out," he told her.
She unzipped his trousers as he slid down a little to make it easier for her. She reached inside and drew out the hardening muscle. It popped to attention before her eyes as she brought it out of its hiding place. Grasping his cock firmly in her hand she watched it surge to life, climbing out of its coil like some angry cobra. Stiffening and thickening magically.
Randy was removing her skirt, but she hardly paid attention to that. She didn't want to miss a thing regarding the miraculous metamorphosis of his prick. She was sober, though in a mellow enough state, and she wanted to take, advantage of her sobriety to observe, to feel. She didn't want to miss one nuance of this particular sexual encounter.
Her skirt and panties lay on the floor, and Randy's hand began to work on her turtleneck. She raised her arms, allowing him to slip the sweater over her head. His cock hadn't changed in size. When she touched it again, grasping it gently in one hand, the precoital seepings began, leaking out of its mouth like saliva. She dabbled her index finger in the juice and smeared it over the mushroomed head of his cock. She delighted in the sheer bulk of his organ. She squeezed it and rubbed it up and down, feeling it pulse like a heart in her hand.
Randy admired the strawberry crowns of her breasts. "I hope you're going to lick my prick," he said, just before flicking a tongue over the nipple of one of her breasts.
"Oh, yes, I'm going to do that and more," she said.
"You sound very experienced tonight."
"I'm getting that way."
"Oh?"
"With you," she said, knowing what he meant. "There's been no one out here, Randy."
"I'm surprised."
"Why? Do you think I'm promiscuous?"
He looked at her tenderly.
"No, I just think you're eager to learn now that certain barriers have been lowered. I think you're perfect."
"Thanks, Randy," she said, lowering her head gracefully to plant a kiss on the tip of his meat.
Randy sucked in his breath as her mouth made contact with his cock's head. He watched her, fascinated, as she twirled her tongue around the crown, shivered as it went down the length of his organ, then licked back up, slow as a cat's tongue rubbing over fur. She looked so young, so fresh and innocent. There was something about a young girl going down on your joint, he thought, that made them all look like virginal serving-girls, love-slaves to a depraved Roman. What was the legend above the Forum? S.P.Q.R. Senatus Populusque Romanum, meaning: the Senate and Roman People. The Italians had another translation, however. It had probably been the same in Ceasar's day: Sono porci questi Romani, "these Romans are pigs." That's what he felt like every time a girl sucked him off. He liked it, but he couldn't help feeling that he was somehow being a male chauvinist pig. In Cathy's case, he felt doubly guilty, because she couldn't have done this more than two or three times in her life. Well, he would see to it that she was well rewarded for her role in this evening's sexual merriment. As she licked him, he thought that she would someday be a superior fellatrice. She obviously was enjoying herself, even though she couldn't be enjoying it as much as if she were being tongued in her pussy at the same time.
He liked the idea of being fully dressed while she was naked. This added to his enjoyment of the act of fellatio. Her back was so smooth and graceful, the backbone sticking out just so, back flaring at her hips, her buttocks as inviting as Callipygia's must have been in ancient times. He could no longer kiss her perky breasts, but he could fondle them, tease their nipples with his hands. And he did that. He didn't want this to be all one-sided.
Cathy was enjoying herself. Randy's cock was a living being to her, a small eyeless creature that she possessed all to herself. She held it fondly in her hands as a priest would hold a chalice. Her lips closed around its tubular mass with loving care. His prick was a magic flute to play upon, the music soundless, felt more than heard, pouring through her throat as she slid it in and out of her suckling mouth. She drooled over his cock, soaking it with her saliva until it gleamed in the light like a mystic scepter studded with millions of tiny diamonds. The more she sucked, the more exciting it became. There was something exquisitely sensual about sliding that swollen organ down her throat, teasing it, shaping it like one would an ice cream cone. Contrary to Randy's belief, Cathy was enjoying herself-immensely. In her loins, the heat simmered, the juices flowed inside her pulsating pussy, the nipples on her breasts strained with desire and the pounding of blood brought to the surface by the pilot's tweaking fingers made her weak with ecstasy.
Cathy stopped her slurping for a moment as an idea popped into her head. She wanted Randy to be pleased with her performance. She was deriving so much pleasure from sucking him it almost seemed sinful. Pulling so hard on his prick that her cheeks sank, she loosed her mouth's hold on it and quickly filled it with Schnapps. Before Randy realized what was happening, she had immersed his cock in the bowl of her mouth. She wallowed the organ's head around in the minty juices, let it run in rivulets down his shaft.
Randy very nearly shot his wad right then. The soothing Schnapps quickly turned to warmth, with Cathy's tongue whipping the sensitive nerve ends of his joint, rimming the flared edge of the cap until his balls reached the boiling point. He grabbed her head then, and jammed down hard, losing all thought of her. He rammed his cock down her throat until it touched her tonsils, and Cathy choked with the suddenness of the massive organ shutting off her air. Realizing what he had done, he released her. She spewed him out, tears welling up in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Cathy. That felt so goddamned good! Christ, you know how to give a man a blowjob!"
"Is that what it's called?"
"Call it what you like, when you dabbed my cock in Schnapps, I almost flipped my cookies. Maybe we'd better just fuck. I'll get out of these clothes."
"No, Randy," she pleaded. "I want to make you come this way. I want to see it. I want to taste it."
"Then let me eat you, too. Would you like that?"
"I'd love it," she said, her blue eyes going cloudy.
Quickly, he took his clothes off. They both lay on the floor, on the thick pile rug.
He rose over her face, his cock still semihard, his face above the fallow V of her cunt. She spread her legs wide and drew his cock closer to her mouth with her fingers. She took the plumlike head of it, purple from the rush and ebb of blood, and sucked it while stroking the length to bring the organ back up to its former strength and size. She almost bit into it when she felt Randy's tongue delve between the lips of her pussy. It felt like some strange worm wriggling into her cunt.
"You'll have me coming in no time," he told her between slurps of her pussy. "Just keep swallowing my prick like that. I'll tell you when so you can get ready."
"Ummm arrrgh," Cathy managed, not willing to turn loose his rod in order to answer him coherently.
They needed no further words.
Randy buried his nose in Cathy's muff, his tongue deftly spearing into her "little man in the boat," teasing forth the slender tuber that was like a trigger to Cathy's lust. He tickled and twanged the little tingle toy until her cavern flooded with fluids. It stiffened to a needle as his tongue ravaged it mercilessly. She spread her legs wide, allowing him deeper penetration. He took the tip of her clit in between his lips and sucked on it as if it were a lollipop.
Cathy knew she could make Randy come. Her own orgasms were skyrocketing her to heights of ecstasy. Her body began to buck with the force of her climaxes. She pulled on Randy's cock with her mouth, drawing it deep into her steaming throat, her mouth tight around it. He was fucking her face with a fury, the seeds boiling in his ball bag. Cathy wanted to see him spurt. When she felt he was close, she pushed him back up, so that only the tip of his cock remained in her mouth. There, she drew on it as one would a cigar, her tongue flicking frantically all the while. She felt his body grow taut and knew he was going to fountain.
She pushed him out of her, quickly, and was rewarded with a foaming splashing spectacle of sperm shooting out of the slit in his cock. It flashed all over her face in warm gouts. Quickly, she pulled him back down and lapped at the spurting come, gobbling it down as fast as it came. She felt the warm sperm flow down the walls of her throat. "This," she thought, "is life itself, the secret of the universe, the mystery of sex and human propagation." She was glad she had sucked Randy off, seen the jets of jism so close and swallowed his life force. She felt whole and completed.
Randy took his head from her muff and looked at her.
"You were wonderful," he said. "You did it like only a real woman can."
"It was very exciting, Randy," she replied. "You're quite a man."
He took her into the bedroom after that. They lay in each other's arms for a long time, locked in the wonder of each other.
Cathy's thoughts roamed over the tiny universe of sex that she had come to know. She thought, too, of her brother Bill probably balling Linda at that very moment. She had never thought of him in a sexual sense, but now she did. She knew Linda's capabilities and she knew Bill would be satisfied. As for his prowess, she knew nothing. She wondered if Linda would tell her. Somehow, the thought was wickedly delicious.
She felt sure of herself. She knew at that moment that she was a woman. And being a woman, she knew she possessed a power that was awesome. She had made her man come with just her mouth and throat. This was the third or fourth time and she knew it had been no fluke before. She exulted in being a woman. She wanted Randy to fuck her all night long.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cathy crumpled the note up in her hand and threw it in the disposal shaft near the drinking spigot. She grabbed up the microphone from its rest and switched on the public address system in the L-1011. Mechanically, she began to explain to the passengers how the pressurized compartment worked, Linda, alongside, holding up the oxygen mask, demonstrating Cathy's words about how it dropped down into the passengers' laps when the pressure changed.
"Welcome aboard flight 239," she had said before beginning her talk and, now, confused, she was saying it again. Linda shot her a look. "We'll be landing in Tampa at nine p.m. Florida time. That's three hours ahead of California time. Enjoy your flight."
"What's the matter, Cathy?" Linda asked her. "Your mind is somewhere else."
The two were walking back to the rear, smiling at the passengers on either side of them.
"Captain Paulson sent a note up to me. He wants to talk to me after we get the drinks out to the passengers."
"Hey, take it easy, kid. Don't let him get you ruffled. He's looking for an excuse to fire you."
"I know. That's what makes me so mad, Linda. It's just not fair!"
"The main thing is to keep your cool. If he sees you shook up, he'll write up a report on you. You almost blew it back there."
"I know. Do you think he was listening in?"
"Probably not. He'd be busy talking to the tower. He's a professional. Good luck when you see him. Just be polite and sweet. Flash him that dazzling smile of yours. What kind of perfume do you have on?"
"Chanel #5. What else?"
"Good. He fancies himself a ladies' man. Just be yourself. Give in to him if he chews you out. It's not worth losing your job over to prove you're right."
"Thanks, Linda. I'll remember that."
Cathy calmed down after serving the passengers their complimentary champagne. She took orders for drinks, passed them out and then went forward to face the captain. Already he had assumed the proportions of an ogre in her mind. She barely knew the man, but he had a reputation for being a hard-nosed Prussian. She was sorry Randy wasn't along on this flight. At the last minute, he had been pulled off to make a trip to Seattle. The co-pilot was Ben Omar, a man in his fifties who was cut from the same mold as Paulson.
Trembling slightly, Cathy entered the cockpit.
"You wanted to see me, Captain Paulson?" she asked.
The captain turned around and shot her a look. They were leveled off, she knew.
"Take over, Ben," said Paulson, unstrapping his belt and rising from his seat.
He pushed Cathy ahead of him to the sleeping compartment. He was rough with her and she felt genuine fear as he locked the door.
"Wha-what'd you want to see me about?" Cathy asked him, her voice quavering.
"Don't you know? Really? The word's out that you're some kind of super fox. The other stews say you'll fuck at the drop of a pair of skivvies."
James R. Paulson was a big blond brute of a man, a former Navy pilot who had distinguished himself as a combat ace when he still had peach fuzz on his face. He was of Swedish extraction, but his blond hair had long since turned gray. His face was ruddy from sailing. He kept a thirty-foot sloop moored at Sausalito and when he wasn't in the air he was sailing on the bay or the open sea. He was tough and looked it. There wasn't an ounce of unnecessary fat on his hard body. To Cathy, he presented a fearsome spectacle in the cabin. He stood between her and the locked door, his heavy brows knit thick and menacing over his piercing blue eyes. His ham like fists were on his hips. His legs were wide spread. She felt trapped and helpless before his ominous figure.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Captain," she said. "That's not very nice to say."
"Don't give me your bullshit, you sassy little bitch. You fucked poor old Mac into his grave. He was just trying to be polite and extend the tradition of the airlines to you. But no, you had to give him a ride to hell, you little cock-sucker !"
"Stop it!" Cathy said, putting her hands up to her ears. "Don't say things like that!"
Angered, he stepped forward, flaying out with both arms. He slapped her hands away from her ears. She winced in pain.
"Listen to me you little fuckhappy cunt," he snarled. "I want to see how you're put together. You're about six inches away from getting canned. Get out of that uniform and spread your legs. We'll see just how goddamned good you are in the sack."
"No," Cathy said, an edge to her voice. She could see that Paulson was out of control. "I wouldn't have anything to do with you the way you are."
"What do you mean the way I am? You little bitch! I'm the captain of this ship! You put out for everyone else, you'll put out for me."
Cathy drew herself up proudly.
"I don't 'put out,' as you say, for everyone else. I don't know what's on your mind, but I want to go back to my passengers."
Paulson advanced menacingly toward her once more.
"Don't you back talk me, you little slut," he barked. "I'm telling you. Get out of that uniform or I'll beat the living crap out of you."
"I don't have to do what you say, Captain Paulson. Please let me go back to my work. Please!"
Cathy was defiant, but she was frightened, too. Paulson showed no sighs of giving in to her pleas. She felt confident, however, that he would realize that she wasn't going to be intimidated by him, if she could help it. She had, however, misjudged the angry pilot.
"Okay, you little bitch," he said quietly, which frightened Cathy more than when he had yelled at her, "you asked for it. I wish Mac were here now to see this. I'd like him to know just what kind of a pig he tied in with!"
Cathy edged away from Paulson, trying to circle around him and somehow escape. He cut her off however, with a savage blow to her head. She staggered backward, too stunned to cry out. The pilot followed up his advantage, bullying her to the bunk, his weight and strength too much for the frightened stewardess.
His bulk was overpowering. Panic lit Cathy's eyes as he fell upon her, his hand reaching underneath her skirt. She couldn't move her legs to kick him. She could feel her pantyhose being pulled down from her waist. His breath was hot on her face. She tried to roll to one side, but he stopped this maneuver. She felt her pantyhose go down past her knees, baring her genitals. With one arm across her neck, he held her there while with one hand he unbuckled his trousers. He removed her pantyhose and shoes, his arm sliding down past her breasts. Braless, she felt the roughness of his sleeve rubbing over her contracted nipples.
"Don't, please don't," she begged.
"Shut your mouth, Merritt," he husked. "If you know what's good for you, you'll cooperate."
"I won't, I won't, damn you!"
Slipping out of his trousers, he slid between her legs. She felt his hard cock sliding up her bare leg. The precoital fluid left hot snail tracks on her inner thigh. She knew it was no use to struggle further. The sheer bulk of the big man made it impossible to escape. Nothing in her life had prepared her for rape. Horror scenes flashed in her mind. She tried to wiggle so that he couldn't enter her, but he put his hands on her legs and spread them wider.
"If you struggle anymore," he rasped, "I'll break your legs. You'll go out of this aircraft on a stretcher."
She knew he meant - what he said. She stopped struggling, giving up to the inevitable. Filled with a loathing that overwhelmed her, she felt his hard cock prying at the portals to her cunt. Her jacket and blouse were roughly jammed up around her throat so that her breasts were bared. He began to slobber over them with his mouth, saliva coating the brown aureoles, his hot breath burning her flesh. She felt the head of his cock shove past her labia. With a grunt he buried his prick to the limit, his balls shoving up against her asshole.
She couldn't relax. The force of his entrance had activated the chemistry of her cunt so that, despite herself, tingles of excitement flowed like electric current through her ravaged pussy. Paulson's thrust was deep and savage, filling her every crevice. His upthrust prick caught the tip of her clit with the heat of a curling iron and she jerked with the sudden orgasm it caused. Drenching showers of moisture turned her cunt into a steamy cave as he pounded her with the inexorable force of his lust.
The young stewardess felt herself responding to his brutal fucking. Her cunt contracted and expanded like a jellyfish, tormented by the rammings of his cock. Her lower body seemed to have a mind of its own as it picked up his rhythm, sucking him even deeper. Her nipples hardened to nubs of painful pleasure as he sucked first one, then the other. She found herself thrusting her breasts upward so more of his mouth could engulf them. His tongue turned into a flicking serpent, teasing, lapping hard against the little brown kernels.
"Oh, you bastard," she whispered, "fuck me, fuck me harder."
"That's better, you little slut," he breathed. "You like this so much, don't you?"
"Oh yes, give it to me. Give me that hard cock of yours, Captain."
She wanted to cry, she was so angry with herself. She was helpless, however. Her cunt was like a dormant volcano suddenly activated. It boiled and erupted with blazing lava, sucking at his pipe, enclosing the massive length of it like some gobbling creature, an octopus changing shape, devouring its prey in a slimy orgy of gluttony. His meat seemed to be everywhere at once, ripping, gouging, ramming, burning through her pussy clear up to the open mouth of her womb.
"Oh, fuck fuck fuck," she moaned. "Fuck forever! Fuck deep, man, fuck me to death!"
The captain took her words to heart, stepping up the pace of his rapacious assault on her young body. She seemed about to break in two as her back arched, the cloven peach of her pussy jutting upwards to bury him all the deeper within the raging oven of her sex. Her breasts were so swollen she thought that surely the skin must burst asunder, the nipples straining to break loose from their roots.
She wallowed and bucked, sighed and screamed deep in her throat. Paulson seemed to be all cock inside her. She felt as though a huge log, afire, had been stuffed up her cunt. He pounded against her belly and thighs until she was sure she would be black and blue from the impact. She was hardly aware of the pain. The glorious ecstasy he stirred within her overrode the hurt.
Cathy's orgasms erupted with blinding speed. Her groans were those of a woman swept up mercilessly onto the peaks of pleasure.
"Uh, oh, god, oh man, oh Captain, my sweet fucking Captain," she moaned.
Paulson knew what was happening. He exulted in the response he had elicited with his cock. The stewardess beneath him was a woman gone wild, out of control. Her body, speared on the shaft of his prick, squirmed and thrashed. Her mouth was slack, her eyes glazed with a thin film of moisture. He pounded her faster and harder, his own excitement now a fiercer thing. He reached underneath her and grasped the twin hemispheres of her buttocks, pulling her cunt up to his spear. He no longer bothered with slurping her teats, but watched her lithe young body spasm in orgasm like a galvanized creature hooked up to 20,000 volts of raw electricity.
"I'm going to shoot it all, babe," he gruffed. "I'm going to dump the whole load in that hot cunt of yours."
"Oh, Captain, give it all to me, you filthy man."
Her cunt squeezed his cock as the muscles in her legs grew taut. She moved her loins in double time, outstripping his own speed. She wanted him to come. She wanted to feel his hot juices explode inside her. She wanted to feel his sperm splash all throughout her seared cunt, soothe the raging fires within the red hot kiln of her quim.
"Now!" he yelled, his body flapping like a rag doll in the jaws of a grizzly bear.
The sperm in his sac attained critical mass. He shot his milk into her with a rush. She reached out her arms and pulled him to her, her mouth straining to find his lips in the awesome moment when her own climax matched his. Their mouths locked together and he kept coming with a seemingly endless stream of jism. Her legs went up around his waist, locking him in. She didn't want him to go soft, didn't want his cock to lose its delicious hardness.
Finally, though, he had spent his last drop inside her. She held on as long as she could, but the delirious moments were over. He softened and she relaxed her legs' hold on him. He spilled from her as their bodies went limp.
"Oh my god, Captain. You must think I'm really low, a slut like you said. I couldn't help myself. Honestly, I couldn't."
He rose from her and looked down at her white flesh, the rumpled skirt around her waist, the blouse entangling her neck. He pulled on his trousers without a word. Cathy struggled up from the bunk, her loins still afire, the dampness inside her cooling slowly. Sticky sperm clung to her pubic hairs, drying fast. She begged for him to say something to her. She felt so defeated, so rotten inside for giving in to his lust. Yet, how could she have helped herself? There had been no way. Her body had betrayed her. Maybe she was all the things he said she was. Maybe she was a bitch and a tramp, a crazy wanton a dollar away from being an outright whore. She wanted to cry just then. But, she wasn't about to humiliate herself any more. He had done this to her. He had raped her with no thought of the terrible consequences. She wanted to leap out of the airplane and throw herself into the sky, fall through the icy stratosphere to her death far below.
She straightened herself out, putting her pantyhose and shoes back on. All the while, Paulson just stared at her, his face noncommittal. Only his eyes burned into her and she felt very small and inconsequential. Was that all she was, an object for beasts like Paulson to despoil and ravage? Was she, after all, a cheap slut with a cunt for a brain?
No, she didn't think so.
"Are you satisfied, Captain?" she asked boldly. "You've raped me and proven your point. Is that all you want?"
"Cathy," he said. "I deserve your hatred. I guess I hated losing my friend, Mac, and blamed you for it. I feel ashamed."
"You do? I'm surprised at you, Captain Paulson. You seemed so damned sure of yourself when you plundered my body. I can't help the way I felt. I'm a woman."
"Did you ... did you act like that with Mac?" he ventured. "I'm sorry. I have to ask."
"Mac? He brought me in here. I can't help what happened to him afterwards. He wanted me. He took me. He was not brutal. He was kind and he enjoyed it. So did I. What was the harm in that?"
"But you," he said. "You do this all the time. You've had many men. Mac couldn't take it. He was used to quiet sex."
"That's what he got from me, Captain. And you're wrong about the other. About the other men, I mean."
"I am?"
"Yes," she said, the tears coming suddenly. "Mac was the first."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Linda was worried about Cathy.
She had barely spoken a word the whole flight and, after they had checked out at Tampa, she had followed dumbly as Linda led her to the car. Now, driving over the causeway to St. Petersburg, she still hadn't come out of her shell. It was as though a barrier had sprung up between them. Linda had fallen into silence herself after her few attempts at conversation had met with failure. It was dark and the lights of St. Petersburg flickered in the distance. The only sound was the hum of the tires on the concrete. The bay was calm, streaming with moonlight-silver highways that seemed to lead nowhere.
"Did Paulson chew you out that bad?" Linda finally said.
Cathy looked at her then, seeming to come out of her reverie. Well, that was a good sign, Linda thought.
"He raped me," Cathy said.
"What?"
"He raped me, Linda, and I responded to him. I feel dirty all over."
"I can't believe it. Oh, I'm not disbelieving you. It just seems too bizarre. Did he hurt you?"
"Not physically, maybe, but mentally. Oh, Linda, what's the matter with me? He called me all sorts of names at first. Later, he tried to apologize, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it."
"Is he going to get you fired?"
"No, I don't think so. Not now. I think he understands that-well, I don't know what he understands. I think my job is safe. It's myself I'm worried about."
Linda reached over across the seat and patted Cathy on the arm.
"There now," she said. "You can't feel that way. What happened, happened. I can't imagine Paulson losing his cool like that. It must have had to do with Mac, right?"
"Right, but that doesn't help me any. Oh, I suppose I'm just feeling sorry for myself. I lost control once he was in me. I acted like the tramp he thought I was."
It was Linda's turn to be withdrawn. She didn't speak for several moments. The air in the car seemed to be filled with meaning, with several meanings, none of them comprehensible.
"Well, you can tell me all about it when you feel like it, Cathy. Now's the time to perk up and get that experience out of your mind. I don't know what happened up there, but it can't be as bad as you make it out. Trust me. We've got two days off and let's make the most of them. Okay?"
"Okay, Linda," Cathy grinned, a sense of relief coming over her. It was good to have a friend like Linda. She could sort out her thoughts later and discuss them with more equanimity. She smiled at Linda as if to tell her that everything was going to be all right.
"Talk to Pete about all of this, Cathy," Linda said, after a while. "He'll know the right thing to say."
Cathy looked at Linda in amazement. It was as though the older woman could read her mind. She had been thinking about Pete. She needed to see him, to make love to him in order to regain her sanity. She needed him to reassure her that she was a woman-a normal woman.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when Cathy and Linda drove up to the quadruplex, lugging a bucket of fried chicken and their travel bags. Cathy went with Linda to the latter's apartment. The other three apartments were dark. Cathy felt good coming back to a familiar place after the nightmare aboard flight 239. She hung up her clothes next to Linda's.
"Should I call Pete now?" she asked.
"I'll give him a ring. I half expected him to be here, though. Let me put this chicken in the oven to keep it warm."
Cathy was more excited than hungry and she nodded, barely able to wait to hear Pete's low masculine voice over the phone.
"Damn," Linda said a few moments later. "His answering service says he's out."
There was a crunch of tires on gravel outside. Linda went to the window and looked out. A Porsche pulled to a stop and the lights went out. A car door slammed.
"Here he is now," she said.
Cathy broke into a relieved smile. She began fluffing her hair. She wished she had taken time to change out of her stewardess garb.
Pete strode through the door a few seconds later, bags in his arms. He was dressed in a casual western outfit, light tan. He wore a big grin and, to Cathy, he seemed ten feet tall. He took both girls in his arms after setting the bags down on the dining table. He kissed them both on their cheeks.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I had hoped to be waiting for you when you came in. I see you both just got here."
"I just called you," said Linda. "Don't you ever tell your answering service where you are?"
"Never," he said. "And I don't check with them when I've got a date with two beautiful women."
"Even if one of them is your sister?" from Linda.
"Especially if one is my sister. Now, come on girls. Get out of those silly outfits. You look like a couple of policewomen. I bring love and cheer and grass grown within view of Acapulco. 'Tis nigh to the witching hour and I feel like having a couple of sweet witches for my supper."
"Oh, you Pete!" Linda exclaimed. "You and Cathy talk while I take a quick shower and change. Cathy, I'll leave you some hot water."
Pete fished out his cigarette case and lit a joint. He passed it to Cathy who took it eagerly. She was shaking, whether from Pete's presence or from the memory of what had happened to her with Paulson, she wasn't sure. She dragged deeply on it and held the smoke in her lungs. She didn't choke this time. Immediately, she began to calm down.
Sensing that she was troubled, Pete mixed three drinks, rum and colas with lime juice-Cuba Libres. He handed one to Cathy and kept one for himself. He held the joint in his lips as he led Cathy to the divan.
"Now," he said. "Tell me what's troubling you, Cath. You seem preoccupied to say the least."
Sipping her drink first, Cathy began to tell him what had happened on the plane. Pete listened attentively, deep in reflection. They both puffed on the joint, drinking their Cuba Libres. When it was over, Cathy breathed a deep sigh of relief. It had felt good to unburden herself to this man, who seemed so sympathetic.
"Well," he said. "That's quite a story. We could nail him, of course, except that it would be ugly for you. You'd have to go to the police right away, suffer the humiliation of their nasty questions and even nastier insinuations. They'd have to take a vaginal smear. Rape, I'm afraid, is the least prosecutable of crimes. The female is usually made to appear like the worst kind of whore in court. I could write Paulson a letter, threatening to sue for damages, which could get him out of your hair. Or, he could react by bringing suit against you for criminal libel."
"I wouldn't want any of that, Pete. I just wanted you to know what happened and why it happened."
"I'm glad you told me, Cath. I'm sorry you had to be subjected to such an outrageous act. Now, you've heard my professional opinion. As for my personal opinion, my advice is to forget the incident, if you can. Stay out of Paulson's way. I suspect that he's not about to do this again, but you never know. How do you feel about him right now?"
"I guess the predominant feeling I have about him is pity," she said.
"Good. That shows you have compassion and are already getting over the sordid part of your experience. A man like Paulson's not worth ruining your life over. He could make it difficult for you to keep your job at Intercoast. The grapevine would probably assure you of never finding any other airline employment as well. You're new and he's an old hand, a trusted pilot. It's like the captain and the crew. The captain's word is law. He's God and you're just one of the galley slaves. Tough, but true."
"Thanks, Pete. I can get over it."
"Good girl." He took her in his arms, then, and kissed her. She felt as though she had just been washed clean. A few moments later, after Linda joined them in baby doll pajamas that were as sheer as a window pane, Cathy left to shower and douche herself. She was glad that she had bought new pajamas for herself in San Francisco. They too were sheer baby dolls, and she felt gift-wrapped wearing them.
"Tomorrow," Pete said when she rejoined him and Linda, "you and I are going motorcycling out in the boonies, Cathy. Linda's got some shopping to do. Ever ride a bike?"
"No, I never have," she said.
"Nothing like it, except flying."
"It sounds scary."
"Let me worry about that. All you do is hold on to me. You'll get a bang out of it."
"He's right about that," said Linda, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
The three of them finished another Cuba Libre apiece, then devoured the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn and biscuits. Pete undressed and hung up his clothes while the girls prepared the bed. Cathy still didn't know what the sleeping arrangements would be, but she trusted her friends to let her know.
She didn't have long to wait.
Linda left a single bedside lamp on, turning out all of the others. Pete took Cathy's pajamas off, as Linda slipped out of hers. The three of them slipped into bed together, on top of the folded-down covers.
Pete was in the middle.
"Cathy, you do whatever you feel like," Linda said. "Pete's going to have us both and both of us are going to have him. Can you dig that?"
"I can," said Cathy, not sure what was expected of her.
"Hey, I don't like to be discussed in the third person when I'm present," said the handsome lawyer. "And you girls sound like a couple of vampires discussing fresh meat. 'Shall we eat him here or take him out?' "
Both girls laughed at Pete's humor. Then, each girl felt a hand on her crotch. Pete reached out with both hands and latched onto the cunts of his bed companions.
"Ooooh, ooooh," Linda squealed. "Pete's got his hand on my pussy. He's going to finger-fuck me."
"Mine too," said Cathy, a ripple of eager delight in her voice.
"Maybe he's going to fuck us," said Linda in a cutesy voice. "Are you going to fuck us, mean man?"
"I am," said Pete in a booming voice.
"Both at once?" Linda said. "You must have two cocks."
It was Pete's turn to roar with laughter.
"If you'll stop being silly, dear sister, I'll try to satisfy both you wenches. With but a single cock! Faster than a speeding bullet, mightier than a locomotive, and able to leap over tall buildings with a single bound."
Cathy succumbed to his fevered finger that was inching into her vagina. The laughter inside her died away as Pete's warm hand blanketed her cunt, his middle finger plumbing for the bud of her clitoris. She spread her legs, one of them resting against Pete's, allowing him freer access to the tunnel of her desire. A heightened feeling of anticipation built up inside her. She wondered how Pete was going to manage to satisfy them both. Strangely enough, she wasn't jealous. How could she be? Pete was so natural and casual in his approach to sex that he was like a child, totally innocent, eager to please. Besides, Linda was his sister. And Linda was her friend too. The three of them were joined by an invisible bond. Cathy's veins tingled as she looked forward to the three of them becoming one.
"You're getting me hot, Pete," Linda said. "I hope you don't think that puny finger of yours is going to satisfy me. I think it's about time you got off your ass and gave both of us some of that sausage you've been hoarding between your legs."
"How about you, Cath?" Pete asked. "Are you hot, too?"
"Oh yes, Pete," she answered. "I am. You're touching my button right now."
"Then it's time to throw caution to the winds and get down to some serious sexual activity," Pete said. "Get set, girls, for some divine ravishment by Peter Barlow, otherwise known as the human prick."
With that, Pete removed his fingers from both girls' cunts and got up on his knees between them. He slid Cathy closer to Linda so that the two women were touching legs. He looked at them with a mock evil grin, rubbing his hands together like a merchant viewing rich merchandise.
"Now," he said, in imitation of Shylock, "I am about to extract my pound of flesh. Make that two pounds."
Cathy giggled. Linda laughed hoarsely. They both were obviously enjoying the game.
Pete's cock was hard and jutted out from the thick mat of his pubic hair like a blinded cobra about to strike. Lemony-clear fluid oozed from the tiny mouth and dribbled over the formidable head. The veins stood out on it, so that Cathy could almost see it throb with power. She wanted it badly. It swung slowly back and forth, as though trying to make up its mind where to strike first.
"Open up, girls," Pete said. "I'll prime you both and then it's improvisation time. Cathy, how about you first?"
"Oh, Pete, don't tease me," she replied.
He mounted her then, his thick root dipping toward the hair of her twat. Her pussy-lips were swollen with blood, sensitive to the touch. The cock's head slid down the slit and lodged itself on the entrance to her smoldering kiln. He poked and the organ slid in her hole, its mushroomed head pushing the lips apart to reveal the pink lining. He flowed into her easily after that, spreading her cunt wider, disappearing in the mass of sucking flesh. Cathy gushed with orgasm as he slowly sank to his balls, sliding over her waiting clit like a rasp over a nail.
"Oh, god, that's good," she moaned.
Linda got up from her position and began massaging Pete's balls, tweaking them gently as she hunched over. She then bent under him and began licking his nuts with her tongue, stroking the hairs into a gobby dampness as he pounded Cathy's cunt faster and faster. Cathy watched and wished she could lick his balls herself, a physical impossibility at that moment. Pete's hand roamed over her breasts, as though shaping them to his own design, teasing the nipples to separate erections.
"There's enough of him to go around," Linda slurped, her tongue moving from his balls to the base of his prick. His organ was slick with Cathy's juices and Linda lapped them up eagerly. Her tongue slipped a time or two inside the pursed mouth of Cathy's cunt, sliding in with Pete's cock. Cathy rippled with orgasm every time Linda did this.
"You two are driving me crazy," Cathy said. "I can feel your tongue go in me, Linda."
Linda mumbled something unintelligible. Pete placed one of his hands on Linda's twat, rubbing it vigorously. It was soaked and seeping, the juices straggling through the hairs that bristled at the mouth of her vagina.
He took Cathy on a wild trip to the stratosphere, with Linda's help. Cathy flew upward with abandon, her climaxes concatenated into a series of explosions that merged, finally, into a single flood of pleasure.
Linda slipped her hand underneath Cathy's buttocks. Her finger toyed with the younger stewardess's asshole before venturing inside the puckered hole. She finger-fucked Cathy's bung until Cathy was bucking like a mare with a burr under the saddle blanket. Her cries of pleasure filled the room.
It seemed to Cathy as if both Pete and Linda were working on her as one lover, with only her own pleasure in mind. She throbbed with gratitude as she kept coming, her two holes filled with a part of each of them.
She didn't want it ever to end.
"Oh, Linda, Pete, I love you both," she cried. "Fuck me, my sweet loves, fuck me!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ecstasy was a scented fog permeating Cathy's mind and body. The musk of sex drenched her, filling her nostrils, bathing her body in a benign cloud. Her asshole twitched with rubbery eagerness as Linda's finger slid in and out, matching the rhythm of Pete's cock inside her. She settled into a euphoric stage, the orgasms no longer out of control, but slow quaking spasms that made her tingle all over, little candles of pleasure lit one by one with twin matches.
Pete withdrew before he himself achieved a climax. He then mounted Linda, who was panting like a vixen in heat. This gave Cathy a chance to explore Pete's body on her own. She fondled his balls and rubbed his buttocks and legs, squeezed his cock at the base and felt it slide in Linda's juice-drenched cunt. She bent down and licked his scrotum as Linda had done, delighting in twirling his scraggly hairs with her tongue. She too licked the thick base of his prick, all around, catching tastes of Linda's pussy like a gourmet anteater.
After balling Linda so that his sister climaxed several dozen times, the powerfully willed Pete withdrew again before climaxing himself. He was like a man of iron, but he had a purpose in mind.
"Now," he told the girls, "we're going to try something I just learned myself. It's a kind of Russian roulette with a different caliber of pistol. Cathy, you lie on top of Linda, on your back. Linda, you lie on your back. Pussies close together. There, that's right. It shouldn't be too uncomfortable once you adjust. Linda's fairly pneumatic so she can take your weight. Now, I'm going to poke both of you and see which one catches the jism. Dig the idea?"
"Wild," said Linda. "Where did you learn that?"
"I'll never tell," he grinned.
Pete crawled between the four legs of the girls, his cock fairly dripping with cunt juices. He had a clear shot at both cunts and he began poking Linda first. Then he withdrew and banged Cathy. It was very exciting for all three of them. He teased them with his blunt cudgel, delving deep in each pussy, pulling out in time to save himself from ejaculation. The girls squirmed with delight as he fucked first one, then the other, barely missing a stroke as their cunts flowered open to receive him. Faster and faster he drove into them, and each girl wondered which one would be lucky enough to each the load when he finally shot off.
Pete kept the game up for as long as he could. His efforts were dynamic. He seemed to pour liquid fire into each girl's swollen and throbbing pussy. The cunts were so close together and his aim so true that he began stitching them both like some surrealistic sewing machine constructed of flesh. Bang, bang, poke, poke, stroke, change stroke, stroke, bang, bang, poke, poke, he went, driving both women half-mad with his jerky rhythm. Linda's hands were grasping Cathy's tits, squeezing them hard as her orgasmic throes increased. Cathy's cunt nestled close to Linda's, and she could feel the hairs scrubbing into her asshole.
"Oh, Pete, this is fantastic!" Linda exclaimed.
"I'm coming so fast I can hardly breathe," gasped Cathy.
"It won't be long now," he told them. "Any minute now I'm going to bust my nuts. It's a tossup which one of you gets it."
Cathy struggled to hold him inside of her. Linda did the same. Each girl wanted to be the one to catch the milky bullets. Each one wanted to physically entice Pete to stay beyond the point of no return, to hold him inside the cauldron of their cunts until he could no longer escape. It became a match of wits and wiles, with each girl trying harder to make her nest the place where Pete would lay his eggs.
Even Pete, with his almost superhuman powers, could not have survived long with two such delectable cunts stacked virtually labia to labia. He wasn't tiring of the sport, he was just churning like an atomic reactor that had achieved critical mass. His efforts to hold back the flume of jism just couldn't materialize under the circumstances. His cock was a raging rocket plummeting down through both pussies until it threatened to fairly scream from agony if some release were not forthcoming.
He plumbed Linda for several quick shallow pokes, then slithered up to Cathy's cunt, where he buried his cock. Suddenly, he couldn't get loose. Cathy's leg muscles or those in her pussy seemed to bear down on him like a vise. He shuddered and let himself go. The hot sperm flew through his prick with the force of an oil gusher. Then Cathy, surprisingly, released him. Quickly, while he was still hard, he disengaged, plunging what was left of his tool into Linda. Both girls got splashed with his seed juices as a result. He tumbled, finally, free of Linda's pussy, totally sated, his sausage limp as a pounded length of sugar cane.
"Oh, Pete, you outdid yourself," Linda sighed.
"I'm still coming," Cathy breathed.
Pete crawled away from the stacked cunts and then Cathy rolled from atop Linda. The three of them lay there on their backs staring up at the ceiling for a long while. Presently, Pete reached for his cigarette case and secured a rolled joint. He lit it and passed it around. The trio smoked it until it was an eighth-of-an-inch roach. The pungent smell of the marijuana hovered over them with the smoke.
Later, Linda fell asleep. Cathy, too excited to give in to her fatigue, lay in Pete's arms, contented as a kitten. Pete, in between both women, seemed like a giant, full of magic and mystery, resting as solid as a mountain. When he took Cathy, sometime later, he fucked her slow until her senses keened like a banshee's. She felt, finally, like someone special. It was the closest she had ever been to being alone with the handsome attorney. She fell asleep, grateful, letting the night wash over her as Pete turned out the light and joined her in the arms of Morpheus.
Linda was still asleep when Cathy and Pete left the following morning. He drove his Porsche through the sun-splashed streets of St. Petersburg to his house on First Avenue North. Cathy, at his suggestion, was wearing shorts and a halter and deck shoes. At his home, he gave her a light windbreaker and a crash helmet. In his garage were two motorcycles, one a Honda 750 with a windshield that he told her was for touring, the other, a Yamaha 250 scrambler which he said they would take. He changed into jeans and t-shirt, rough-out boots and a yellow windbreaker that matched Cathy's. Both jackets had YAMAHA on the back and front with the corporate logo underneath each legend.
They ate at a quiet cafeteria where Pete told her how much he had enjoyed the evening with her. She was pleased and no longer afraid of the motorcycle. The ride there had been smooth, with her seated behind him, her arms around his waist, her hands on his diaphragm, just above his genitals. Her breasts had punched into his back from holding on so tightly and she had liked that. Too, there was the vibration of the seat that massaged her pussy as they rode along.
Pete rode south with Cathy in back of him, the sun warm on their faces.
"Where are we going?" Cathy asked.
"To the boondocks. Way out. No people there."
His words blew back to her as he picked up speed, twisting the throttle and clutching it into fourth gear. She liked the feeling of freedom on the bike. They moved through traffic like a knife. Soon, Pete turned off the main thoroughfare and she noticed the absence of houses. There was a lot of sand, and there were palmetto trees, and flora she didn't know the names of. He left the pavement after that and she was transported into a world of white sand and thick brush. A narrow path led them into what appeared to be sand pits. When they stopped, finally, she looked around.
"You were right," she said. "It's the boondocks. It's so quiet here."
"Not a soul around for miles," he said.
He took the sack they had carried and put it under a tree. There was a six-pack of beer inside, and two ham and cheese sandwiches on dill bread. He had bought them at the liquor-and-deli next to the cafeteria, carrying the bag between his legs on the ride out.
"This used to be a sand and gravel operation," he told Cathy. "All these trails you see were made by me and my buddies. We used to clown around out here, race and take chances on our bikes. Good way to get rid of a lot of tension."
"It's a peaceful spot. Where are we, anyway?"
"I don't think this place even has a name. We've never seen anyone else here."
"I can believe that," she said.
"Come on, I'll ride you over the trails we made. When you see me stand up on the pegs, you do the same. We'll be hitting a few bumps. There are some water hazards too."
She hopped up on the seat behind him and they took off. Pete rode very fast and they made several small jumps. Standing on the pegs, though, she didn't feel any shock. She was getting half horny from the seat rubbing on her, though. Pressed close to Pete's body as she was, she couldn't help but feel his strength and sureness, the muscular masculinity of him. He seemed part of the machine. Her breasts nestled into his back, the nipples hardening from the abrasive action caused by the rough ride.
They made a complete circle and wound up back at the tree where the beer and sandwiches were stashed. Pete shut down the bike and took her in his arms. He kissed her, laughed when the helmets got in the way.
"Let's take these off," he said, "and try again."
This time there was no obstacle in the way as he kissed her warm and lovingly. He held her so close she could feel the steel bulge at his crotch. It seemed to be into her pubic triangle, hot and meaningful. She wondered if he was going to take her out here on the sand. She wanted him to and if he didn't ask her, she was going to suggest it herself.
"There's something I've been wanting to try for a long time," he said. "I don't know if it's possible. And, I've never met a girl that I wanted to try it with before."
"You sound very mysterious," she said. "What do you have in mind, Pete?"
"Take off your shorts," he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt.
"Just my shorts?"
"And your panties, too. Keep on your tennies and middy for now."
He slipped off his jeans and she stared at his nakedness. His cock was half-hard and she wanted to reach out and grab it, bring it to its full sensual size. He gave her a grin to show her he understood her desire.
"You'll get your chance at that," he said. "He wants you, anyway."
"I want Mm," she said.
"First, though, do you want to try something new? It may not work. We'd have to be careful. I don't want to get ruptured."
"I'll try anything with you, Pete. But, why is it that you're always trying new things? Like last night? Did you really learn that from someone?"
"No, I didn't," he admitted. "It was a fantasy of mine. I have them all the time. Most people do, but most people don't act out their fantasies. They just daydream and let it go at that. I think they miss out on a lot of life that way."
"So do I."
"I've always liked to try new things, new ways of doing things. There's something exciting about the unconventional."
"Variety's the spice of life?"
"Exactly."
"So, what is this new thing we're going to do half-naked?"
"Cath, you remind me of a pixie. Your sense of humor is something sparkling, too. I'll bet you keep that part of you submerged a lot of the time."
"I think you're right," she said. She wanted to tell him that he probably brought out the best in her. She had never met a more fascinating person. She didn't want to reveal too much, however. Pete had to be the aggressor until she knew him better. She didn't want to scare him off. He meant too much to her.
"Well, I hope it lasts through this experiment. Now, are you ready for the briefing?"
"I'm ready, Pete."
"Good. You're going to ride in front of me. I'll work the controls. The most important thing is to use the pegs. Your feet will be on the front pegs, mine'll be on the rear. We're going to fuck while we ride over these bumpy trails."
"How?"
"Good question. I'll enter you from the rear. You'll sit on my prick, be able to slide up and down on it. If we hit a bump and you don't stand on the pegs, though, you'll break my balls, squash them like a couple of eggs."
"Oh, wow. It sounds impossible, but interesting."
"I think it'll be an absolute gas. I don't know if anyone's ever fucked on a motorcycle before, but I'll bet it's got to be fantastic!"
"I'm ready to try."
"Good, let's get it on, then."
He kicked the motorcycle to life. Cathy climbed on in front of him, her bare ass settling onto the seat, the cheeks slightly spread. Pete got on behind her, his cock soft for the moment. His arms went around her, underneath her own arms. He cranked the throttle, revving the engine.
"You can reach behind and guide my cock up into you when it's ready," he told her. "You'll have to lift slightly up and guide yourself onto it. I'll keep you from falling with my arms."
"Okay," she said.
Pete slipped the bike into first gear, held the clutch in.
"Here we go," he said, letting the clutch out slowly. Cathy found she had to hold on to the handlebar with one hand. With the other, she reached back and found his mass of soft flesh between his legs. She began to knead the limp cock between her hands. They took off, down the trail, his organ gradually hardening in her hand.
Cathy found herself getting hot. The excitement began to build as his prick stiffened. She could feel it prying at the cheeks of her ass, the seminal fluid seeping through the slit onto her hand. Pete rode it slow, pushing gently against the crack of her buttocks. She knew, then, that what he had proposed was possible-and thrilling to contemplate!
"Now," he said, "lift up on the pegs a little bit. I'm hard enough."
"I'll say you are." She felt his cock slide down her crack. She lifted up slightly and leaned forward. His organ stiffened even more as it slid toward the lips of her pussy. She lifted herself still higher and felt the head of his prick slide to the opening. His arms tightened on the sides of her chest as he came up on his own pegs.
He slid into her and she let herself down, burying his cock to the base. A sudden thrill shot through her as he sheathed his organ completely. He cranked on the throttle and the bike spun ahead with a leap. Bouncing along, she found herself being fucked in this new way. Her own juices began to flow like wine from a barrel. Her clit responded with an engorgement of blood as the first shattering sparks of orgasm rippled through her cunt. His cock went in and out with every bounce. She held on with both hands, letting her body bounce up and down on the impalement of his prick.
It was a wild ride and the two of them began to anticipate the bounces. She rode the pegs like a pro, never coming down hard on him. They looked like two people on a single horse jumping hedges, their bodies in perfect attunement with their mount. The penetration seemed deeper to her. She was almost mindless with the ecstasy of orgasms that tremored through her cunt. She was flowing inside like a tapped spring, her juices running down over Pete's cock and onto both their legs.
They raced through puddles of water, oblivious to the splashing, left the ground in airborne leaps over half-buried logs, zigged through scratching underbrush and zagged up small hills only to zip down the other side, coupled, still, and laughing with the sheer joy of the sexy ride.
"Oh, Pete," she yelled back at him, "this is pure madness. But I love it."
"You're perfect," he said. "I think we make a great team. We should be entered in the motocross!"
She came so many times she lost count. She was just one big gusher, responding to his ramming tool. When, finally, they pulled to a stop, he came himself in that instant, blasting her cunt full of smoky jism, his fluids mingling with hers in a gob of pleasurable residue. Breathless, they tumbled off the machine and onto the sand. They stared at each other as they both floated back to earth. The Yamaha ticked like a watch as it cooled.
"Someday," Pete said, "we'll have to try it skydiving."
"You're joking!" Cathy exclaimed. "I hope!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
There was a note on the table when Cathy arrived back at the quadruplex. It was from Linda.
I won't be home tonight, Cathy, so don't wait up for me. Pick you up tomorrow for the flight back to San Francisco. Enjoy yourself with Pete. I'll be in Miami. Love, Linda.
Cathy wanted to cry. Pete wouldn't be with her. He had checked with his answering service at his home and he had an appointment with an important client-a politician, she gathered, and he didn't expect to be free. She was all alone and didn't know a soul in St. Petersburg. Well, she thought wryly, there's plenty of booze, and Pete had left two joints for her to smoke.
Mingled with the disappointment was a great feeling of elation. She and Pete had made love after eating their lunch and drinking beer under the palmetto tree. It had been very satisfying. While he hadn't committed himself to anything permanent, she gathered that he considered her his steady date anytime she was in St. Petersburg. It was something, at least. Something to look forward to. And, there was Randy back in San Francisco. Or here, if Pete wasn't available.
She accepted the fact that she needed both men. One on each coast. Sex was something that had intruded into her life. Now, she needed it. It was like a drug to her. She was hooked on it. Even Linda had contributed to her addiction. Well, was that so bad? Lovemaking wasn't meant to be limited to those of opposite gender. She was sure of that, now. It was too big, too complex to be meant to be shared in only one way. Linda wasn't a lesbian. Neither was she. Linda, if anything, was pan-sexual. She enjoyed it, no matter what form it took. Cathy was sure she was the same way. Knowing Linda helped to ease her mind concerning her own sexuality.
Sex wasn't everything, Cathy reasoned. But, it was an important part of life. She knew that now. Pete and Randy and Linda had shown her that. Mac and Paulson had presented other facets of her own sexuality to her. Mac had brought her to life and Paulson had put the stamp of his own sexuality on her. Both were important, somehow, though she couldn't quite grasp the total significance. Maybe they were important because they represented extremes. Mac had been quiet and withdrawn, in his own way. Paulson was a brute, savage, a dark side of sex that usually only manifested itself in fantasy, in dreams.
And Pete? Pete was the innovator, the joyous personification of no-holds-barred sex. Linda and Randy probably fell somewhere in between-joyous, too, in their own ways, but followers, not leaders. She would do anything with Pete. Indeed, there seemed to be no end to him. Would someone like that ever be able to settle down with one woman? She doubted it. Pete was too wild, too full of freedom ever to work well in harness. Yet, he did have a soft conventional side to him too. He had proved that last night after Linda had fallen asleep, and that afternoon under the palmetto tree. There was a core to him that she couldn't fathom. That was what made him so interesting. Interesting and provocative. Pete was a diamond that dazzled and taunted, flashing his lights so fast every time he turned around that you could never discern the middle, the heart.
It was no good feeling sorry for herself and Cathy made up her mind not to allow herself to descend into the depths of despair. After all, she had everything she needed there, and she was tired after a strenuous night and an exhilarating day. She checked the icebox and saw that it was well stocked with food and snacks. She made herself a Bloody Mary and found a sack of potato chips in the cupboard. She went to the living room and turned on the television. There was a vintage movie on the tube and she curled up in a chair, still in her shorts and halter, to watch. Maybe Pete would get through early, after all, and call her or come over. That was something she might look forward to. It was better than brooding. She envied Linda being in Miami. She herself had never been there. She knew it was an exciting city. She had seen little of St. Petersburg. It seemed, however, to be a quiet town, leisurely in its pace, populated mostly by elderly retired people. If it got too boring, she could always go for a swim, either in the Gulf or in the pool.
Cathy found herself nodding to the movie. She had seen it before, but in a way it was comforting to be watching something familiar. It made her less homesick for San Francisco. She mixed herself another Bloody Mary and put a tv dinner in the oven. She wasn't going to smoke the joint. It wouldn't be the same without Pete and Linda there. A couple of drinks, the dinner, and early to bed. That way she wouldn't miss her friends so much. And she was tired, getting more tired by the minute.
Cathy wore her baby dolls to bed after she had eaten and turned off the television. The big apartment seemed to be full of whispers, empty as it was. It was after nine when she finally put out the bedside lamp and stretched out on top of the bedding, her head on the pillow. She had mixed herself three Bloody Marys instead of two and was woozy from them. After dinner she had sampled some Schnapps but it reminded her of Randy and she didn't finish the small glass she had poured. She fell asleep sometime before ten o'clock, the moonlight pouring through the window and streaming between the shadows in the silent apartment.
The dreams were crazy, mixed-up, elusive. She kept trying to ride a horse that had wheels for hooves, but it kept getting bogged down in mud, silver, slippery mud. She was dressed in several heavy dresses that she kept shedding the more the horse kept sinking into the mire. A dark man, naked, came strolling up with a rope. He threw it out like a lariat and it caught the horse's neck. The lariat came out of the man's penis and there was no end to it. He pulled and the horse struggled free. She kept trying to get out of the heavy dresses. The more she tossed them away, the more dresses she wore. They, too, seemed endless to her. The horse got out of the quagmire, but she fell off. The dark man disappeared. A lady came up in his place as Cathy slipped on the silvery mud and began sinking. The lady pulled on her feet. The dresses came off in a bunch. The water, from a spring near the mud hole, lapped at her vagina. She felt very warm in her loins and happy that she was naked. The lady danced away like a butterfly. Several more men came up and pointed to her crotch. Their fingers were long and kept growing longer. They touched her flesh, prying open her legs and vagina. Their fingers kept going in until she was filled up with water and fingers.
Sometime during her dream, the front door opened. A man crossed the room and stood at the foot of the bed. He was in shadow. He disrobed, carefully folding his clothes and hanging them on a chair. When he was totally naked, he slid onto the bed, his breathing shallow. He looked at the sleeping woman and drew a deep sigh. Cathy's pert breasts rose and fell with her breathing, jauntily upthrust, the aureoles dark and bumpy, the nipples dormant. Gently, he eased next to her, his cock rising from its jungle of pubic hair like a stalking serpent.
He ran a hand up her legs, to her slightly mounded tummy, on up to her breasts. He teased the nubs of her nipples for a few moments, then retraced his finger's path back down to her legs. He ran a finger through the thick hairs of her pussy, barely grazing the lips. They were soft and pliant to his touch. The sleeping woman didn't stir, lost deep in her dream. Emboldened by his small successes, he parted the lips of her cunt, touching the slippery inner lining with his fingertip. He moved her legs wider apart and drew his face closer, so he could smell the musk released when he opened her up.
She smelled as he had imagined she would, young and exciting, as heady as a field full of heather like some he had strolled through in Scotland. He fingered her deeper, probing for the love-button inside. He found it easily and under his deft manipulation her juices began to flow, the wine of her youth seeping over his finger. He strummed the nubbin until it hardened. He moved closer to her, sidling crablike until he was between her legs, his face inches from her smoldering cunt. He buried his face between her legs and sniffed deeply. It was like burying his face in a bowl of dried flowers, the countryside flowers that grew in England, whose fragrances lasted for months after they were picked and closed away in a box.
"Oh, Cathy," he whispered, "you smell so good, so fresh and sweet."
He knew she couldn't hear him and he was glad. He wanted these few moments to drink in her beauty. He wanted to admire her body as it was now, magnificent in repose, the secrets within waiting for his key to unlock them, to set the very oils of them in motion.
"Sleep, my sweet," he murmured, his only answer the susurration of her breathing, the pale light of the moon streaming through the window.
He could see her perfectly. He attuned himself to her breathing as though he were a mystic coming to a shrine after a long journey. He felt that way, lying there on his stomach, his cock burrowing a depression in the bed, its slit seeping precoital fluids in preparation for his carnal entrance into her body. Not yet, he told himself, not yet. There was more to her than that. There were the oils of her that he must drink, the long thirst that he must slake at her precious well.
His tongue slid past his teeth and into the crevice of her cunt. He pulled the skin at the sides of her pussy apart, exposing the pink innards of this most lovely of objects. His heart beat fast in his chest as his tongue ventured beyond the outer lips and into the muggy depths of her cavern. The clit was still hard, still upright from its pod, waiting for this further intrigue, this gentle assault on its diminutive dwelling place. He tongued it lovingly, stroking its point with care, swabbing it with saliva as though it were some blinded creature come to him for succor. The musk of her sweet dank pussy filled his eager nostrils. He became drunk on her scent, a diver too long in the depths, his blood overloaded with nitrogen, his brain muffled with an enveloping narcosis,
"Sweet, sweet Cathy," he murmured as he came out of her sweaty nest for air. "If you only knew how sweet you really are."
Like some sleeping succubus, Cathy dreamed on, unaware of the reality of the man in shadows who was lapping at her honeyed spring. She slept on as if she were awaiting the dark prince who would awaken her to life, when she could summon the magic only she could invoke for this strange meeting.
The man moved up between her legs then, his cock fully hard, the head of it slick with the unguents of love. She was still open where he had tongued her, the flesh curled back where he had pulled it, as though it were gifted with memory.
"Now, my darling," he breathed. "It is time."
He eased his cock inside her pussy, holding himself above her with straight arms at her sides. The crown of it lingered a moment between her lips as they closed upon it. The sliding in was easy and smooth, the sheathing something exquisite like a clasping of lover's hands under a table, like the pulling on of a new glove.
He almost succumbed to the allure of her pussy then. His juices flared and threatened to burst loose from their vesicles. He stilled the almost overwhelming desire to ejaculate by quickly withdrawing. That would never do. Steeling himself, he entered her again, more slowly this time. He found the will power that he needed and flowed through the warm folds of flesh until he had fully ensheathed his penis within the clutching depths of her.
"Flesh of my flesh, spirit of my spirit," he said softly, his tone sacerdotal.
He left himself down on her loins, deepening his penetration. He stroked in and out of her soaked sheath, his member tight inside her. Her flesh was pliant, giving, her cunt like some sea creature that feeds by absorption. He moved slowly, enjoying every stroke inside the sleeping woman.
In the dream, Cathy was swimming. Her lungs fought for air. She was deep under a sea, climbing toward light. The sea water was thick, like oil. Fishes brushed against her bare flesh. Objects loomed close, then fell away as she struggled higher and higher toward the distant surface. An eel slithered close, entering her body through the vagina. It began to swell and its tiny teeth to nibble on a mushroom growing inside her vagina. The eel began flashing on and off like a neon sign. The surface came closer. The light from the eel merged with the light she swam toward. One big strobe light clicked on and off, its rhythm getting faster and faster, its white light so blinding she had to blink her eyes several times when she broke the water high above the depths where she had been swimming ...
He had increased his rhythm the last few seconds because Cathy was stirring in her sleep. Her hips had begun to move, her legs to twitch, as her climactic spasms increased. He moved with her, slipping in and out with rapidity, plummeting deep and fast into the innermost regions of her pussy. He watched her face become animate. The eyes stirred without opening. A pulse appeared in her neck muscle. Her breath became deeper, more labored. He let himself down, then, so that his torso covered hers. He began to nibble on her breasts, laving the dark aureoles with his tongue, enticing the nipples to rise with his tongue tip. And, still, he pounded Cathy's cunt with increasing force as though this was the injection that would bring her to life.
It took Cathy several seconds to separate herself from the dream. She felt as though she had been dreaming. There was a great weight on her body. Her breasts were slightly sore, the nipples hard and straining at their roots. Her cunt was filled out, swollen from inside. She opened her eyes and saw the top of a man's head, felt his tongue wetly swabbing her breasts. She touched a leg with her hand, cried out when she realized that his cock was inside her, submerging deep.
"Oh, Pete, Pete," she said. "You did come back. You angel! Oh, thank you, darling. What a thrill to wake up fucking like this. Ummm, I'm so happy."
She threw her arms around the man and squeezed him. She began moving her hips in counter rhythm to his, taking his cock deeper inside her, her pussy meeting his organ on the downstroke with its upstroke. She began coming with every third plunge as the man slowed his rhythm once again.
There was only one thing wrong, Cathy realized.
The man fucking her wasn't Pete!
For one thing, he had blond hair. For another, he felt different. He wasn't as big as Pete, and he had a different way of stroking. Oh, there was nothing wrong with it. His cock was deeply satisfying. Her cunt clasped it desperately, squeezing its thick bulk like a tube of toothpaste. There was nothing wrong with the way she was being fucked. Except that it wasn't Pete. And if it wasn't Pete, who was it?
"Who-who are you?" she stammered.
The man raised his head and looked at her.
Cathy gasped.
"Cathy, darling," he said, "you're everything I dreamed you would be. Are you upset?"
"I-I don't know." She had stopped moving. So had he. They lay there, coupled, the engines idling. "It's such a shock. You! Of all people! How did you get in here?"
"Linda gave me a key. In San Francisco. I really thought this was her apartment."
"It is. We share it. She's in Miami."
"I don't care. Cathy, tell me you don't mind. Tell me you're not angry with me."
She looked at him for a long time. Thoughts scrambled for attention in her brain. She had to have a quick answer for a situation like this. What could she do? He was inside her. His cock was throbbing there, a sleeping giant. Her breasts were afire from his tongue. Her loins burned from the heat of him, yearned for further excitation. What could she do? Order him out of the apartment? Make him take his cock out while she whimpered for sexual relief? Curse him for doing what he had done? Condemn him? Punish him?
No! No! No! She couldn't do any of this! This was her own flesh and blood, this unexpected and unannounced lover!
"Bill," she said, "oh, Bill, my god, how did this happen?"
"Maybe it was destined to happen," he said.
"Oh, I don't know. My own brother! It's all so fantastic."
"So, now what, Cathy? Do I slip away in the night and pretend this never happened? Do we deny ourselves each other for the rest of our lives?"
She squeezed him tightly in her arms.
Slowly, her hips began to move. She kissed him, her tongue flicking over his lips. Her hand glided over one of his buttocks.
"Don't leave, Bill," she whispered, a moment later. "Fuck me. Fuck me all you want. Just keep fucking me like this."
"Oh, Cathy," he said. "I've wanted you for so long. I think that's why I really left home. I wanted you so badly, I was afraid."
"Fuck me, Bill. Don't be afraid anymore."
Maybe, she thought, she had wanted him too. She sighed as his cock slid across her clit and she climaxed-with her eyes wide open.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Paulson's been in there a long time."
"Tammi must have really turned him on."
"Or vice versa."
"She's no cherry."
"She could be!"
"Cathy, do you know what the odds are?"
"You forget, Linda. A year ago, I was Tammi Brooks. You and the other stews were probably talking the same way about me."
Linda laughed.
"You're right, Cath. We sure were. You and Mac. God, it seems like only yesterday."
"I know. Well, looks like we have some new meat for the pad."
"Tammi already said she'd adore rooming with us. Isn't she cute? Fresh as a daisy."
"Does it seem possible we were that way once, Linda? Really?"
"No, Cathy, it doesn't."
Tammi Brooks was no virgin. Not with that burnished copper hair and those slender legs, jutting buttocks, sparkling blue-green eyes! At twenty-one, she had formed attachments with men her own age, none of them lasting. Mutual masturbation, a couple of back-seat affairs and one fraternity fuck. That was about it.
Captain James Paulson was a different matter. He was a real man. A stud. He fucked her in the cabin with a zestful lust that surprised and excited her. His searing cock was a horn that impaled her cunt like no college fumbler had ever done. Tammi was aching for experience and this wild fuck at 23,000 feet was more than she had hoped for! She threw her legs up in the air so that he could bury that massive bone in her purse.
Paulson fucked her in missionary fashion, face to face, rammed her from the rear, and shifted to sixty-nine and back to conventional before he let himself go, creaming her cunt with his jism in a wild climax to thirty minutes of sexual abandon. Tammi sobbed with gratitude.
"I'm sorry I scratched your back, Captain Paulson," she said as they were dressing.
"Call me Jim," he said. "No sweat."
When he went back to the cockpit, he vowed that she would be on as many of his flights as possible. Ms. Brooks was a racing machine. He could fly her anywhere.
Cathy joined in with the other stews as they ribbed Tammi good-naturedly for the rest of the trip-out of earshot of the passengers, of course. She thought of her own first flight and knew that Tammi would be all right. She took the kidding with grace and a sense of humor. She had apparently been turned on by Paulson and in turn had satisfied the captain. They had been together for almost forty-five minutes. And now Tammi was one of the bunch, or about to be, as soon as they checked out at Tampa and headed for St. Pete. She could almost see Randy up there with Paulson, trying not to grin. Paulson may have performed the "rites of passage," but Randy Keller would be driving Tammi out to the quadruplex. She would ride with Linda. Pete and Bill should already be there, waiting for them, ready for the party.
She and Pete had grown close during the past year. He was not ready to settle down yet, but Cathy realized that she wasn't either. Life was too full, too good. They hadn't yet made love while skydiving, but they had tried it many other ways. Once, even, he had drunk wine from her cunt. She had smeared his cock with honey once, and lapped it off until he creamed like a squeezed bottle of hand lotion. It had been an exciting year, not only with Pete, but with Randy and her brother, Bill.
She had always thought of Bill as being a total square, a proper sort of man who put business before pleasure. She had found out that she had been mistaken. Bill had only been that way around her, because of the taboo of incest. Now that the barriers had been torn down, she really liked him. So did Linda. They were almost inseparable. Bill still flew around the world, but he was in San Francisco and St. Petersburg a lot, too. Linda would never have to worry if she married him. Bill was wealthy. He had made some solid investments. Pete listened to him, even, and Pete was doing all right in the market, too.
She and Linda waved goodbye to Randy and Tammi in the terminal. They wanted to be at the pads before them, so the two women dashed to the parking lot and were off before Randy and Tammi even got on the shuttle.
"What do you think about the new stew?" Linda asked Cathy on the causeway.
"She got her wings, evidently. I like her. I think she'll be a barrel of fun."
"Me, too. Randy looks just like his name implies."
"What do you mean?"
"Randy. He looks randy as a bull around that redhead."
Cathy laughed.
"Good. I just hope Pete doesn't get carried away."
"You don't have to worry about Pete. He's a party stud, but you and he have something special between you. He's changed, Cath. Don't get jealous tonight. Just keep on rockin'. You'll see what I mean."
"Thanks, Linda. For the advice. I can remember how Pete and I got started. I shouldn't be catty about Tammi. After all, we both agreed that if she wanted it, she'd be a good stew to carry one of our keys."
"Right. And, tonight, I have a surprise for all of you that makes Tammi's membership in our little club all the more important."
"Surprise? Tell me now."
"Oh, no, Cathy. That would spoil it. Now just don't ask me any more questions. Because I'm not going to give you even a hint."
And, she didn't. The rest of the drive was uneventful, the silences comfortable but long in duration. Cathy wondered what the surprise was. She had a feeling she already knew, but didn't want to spoil it for Linda.
Pete opened the door and took Cathy into his arms. Linda shot by them both and raced to Bill who was waiting for her, arms outstretched. After some brief chatter, Linda and Cathy went off by themselves to change into casual clothes. Pete mixed drinks for all of them.
"Randy's on his way, driving slow with a new stew-a redhead that'll knock your eyes out," Linda said when she had sipped the top off her Cuba Libre. It was a balmy evening, just right for rum drinks.
"Maybe he'll stop off at a motel before he gets here," said Bill Merritt.
"No chance," said Linda. "He knows the rules. This initiation's just as important as the one Paulson conducted on Flight 563."
"Paulson was the flight captain?" asked Pete.
"He was with Tammi a long time, too," said Cathy. "Both of them tried their best to look casual, but it was obvious he went beyond the call of duty with her."
"Sounds like Tammi's some kind of a lion tamer," said Pete.
"She may be," offered Linda.
"Well, let's hope she's not a party pooper," said Bill.
The talk drifted on to other subjects, easygoing and natural. They all stopped talking, however, when the sound of tires on the gravel out front arrested their attention.
"Just in time," said Pete. "I was just going to mix another batch of Cubas."
"Better make six," said Linda.
"Six it is," he replied.
Tammi was greeted by the foursome as Randy escorted her through the door. Pete gave a long wolf whistle. Bill just stared, wide-eyed, at the stunning redhead. Linda took her by the hand and introduced her.
"Now, you can change while I calm these sex fiends down," she said, leading the bewildered girl away from the others. "See if you boys can keep your eyes in your head and your pricks in your trousers while we're gone."
Everyone laughed.
When Tammi came back she was dressed in capris and blouse. She looked, Cathy thought, like a model or a movie star. It was going to be interesting this evening. Even she was curious about the new stewardess. She remembered how Linda had treated her, how easy it had been to assimilate into the small group.
"Everyone have a drink?" Pete asked.
"Yes!" They all answered.
"Then I propose a toast. Here's to Tammi. She may have gotten her wings on board an L-1011, but tonight she's coming to a soft landing. Here's to you, Tammi!"
They all drank to the new girl and she graciously kissed each one on the cheek afterwards.
"Hey, she's all right," said Pete.
"I'll drink to that," said Randy.
"Hey, hey," from Bill.
"And now," put in Linda, "I'd like to make an announcement and a toast of my own."
"Sure, kid," said Pete. "Go ahead. What's the big news?"
"Bill wanted me to tell you," said Linda, "so here goes. Tammi, I hope you like us. This was my pad, originally, and now it's yours and Cathy's. Bill and I are getting married."
"What?" Cathy said.
"You're all invited to the wedding. Tomorrow !"
A chorus of congratulations greeted this announcement with Cathy's louder than the rest. She was genuinely pleased. She had hoped this would happen. She couldn't think of a nicer sister-in-law. She gave Linda a big hug, tears welling up in her eyes.
"And the toast," said Linda, "is to all of you-the nicest people in the air or on the ground!"
"But for tonight," said Bill, "all systems are go. We don't want any special treatment."
Cathy gave him a hug, too. Soon, everyone was kissing everyone else. Pete brought out champagne and lit up two joints that were quickly passed around. Tammi seemed to fit right into the impromptu celebration.
"Who's Bill?" Tammi asked Cathy some time later.
"He's my brother. Pete is Linda's brother. We're all brothers and sisters."
"I'll say you are," said the redhead. "I've never seen a group like this. When do we split up and go our separate ways for the evening?"
Cathy looked at Tammi and laughed.
"Split up? Why we don't, honey. It's all for one and one for all at this party!"
"You've got to be kidding!"
"Am I?" she said. "Just wait and see."
Cathy arose from the couch, holding her glass aloft.
"Boys and girls," she said in a loud voice. "Tammi has just informed me that she is ready for the ball to begin. Shall we?"
For an answer, Pete, Bill, Linda, Cathy and Randy all began taking off their clothes. Tammi looked at them all with wide incredulous eyes. Then, a smile breaking on her face, she too began stripping.
"Well, come on gang," she shouted. "What the hell are we waiting for?"