It has long been an established fact in professional psychology circles that many of an individual's basic personality traits are determined during the first five years of his life. Indeed, by the time of adulthood, the personality is more or less fixed; the variation lies in the individual's environment, not his basic nature.
So what happens when a young woman is snatched from her environment and thrown into a new one, her memory of her past life a total blank due to a blow to the head?
An interesting question and one made even more interesting when one considers the type of new environment in which this young woman finds herself. A virtual prisoner in a secluded mountain lodge, the girl's only companions are an unknown doctor whose sexual powers defy belief and an old man with extremely peculiar tastes.
THE NAUGHTY WIFE-a shocking study of the human mind and how outside forces can twist it.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Confusion swirled in the curvaceous black-eyed blonde's tormented brain like a whirlpool, causing her pointed young tits to quake in rhythm to her agitated breathing. Agony masked her beautiful face. She felt lost, isolated and frightened and with good reason. Time for her went back to late this afternoon and no farther. Dead end all the way. Beyond regaining consciousness on a bed at this remote mountain hunting lodge ... she could remember nothing!
Amnesia! The word skittered through her mind like a mouse being pursued by a hungry cat. The word was not unfamiliar to her. Gordon had told her that she was suffering from this malady, using medical terminology she understood without quite knowing how or why she understood and she believed him. But why had she turned into an amnesiac? What in the fucking hell had happened to cause this mental blackness? Terror? A fall? A nervous breakdown? What, damn it, what?
Something stirred in the blonde's mind, causing her large tits to bounce faster, bringing their coral nipples into full arousal from the sudden and almost sexual excitement that embraced her. There was a fragment of something struggling to escape from the dungeon of her subconscious. It was a blurred picture hanging in the gallery of her brain ... a meadow scene or a park ... and a naked girl on a swing. A deep frown lined her brow. She thought the girl on the swing with her big tits and bushy cunt exposed was herself, but she couldn't be sure. A moan seeped past her red lips. If only she could bring that fucking picture into sharper focus.
This naked girl on the swing showing her titties and pussy to the phantoms walking by ... who was she? Where in the hell had she come from? And on top of this she wondered out loud, "Who am I?"
The question went unanswered.
A faint smile of sadness haunted the corners of the girl's sensual red mouth as she studied her curvaceous body in the full-length door mirror of the bathroom. She saw a black-eyed stranger with honey-colored hair framing a heart-shaped face staring back at her. A beautiful stranger attired in a black transparent nightgown whose hemline reached the floor, slippers with five-inch heels, black bikini panites and a matching nylon half-bra that barely covered the blushing pink tips of her full breasts.
"Who the hell are you, big-titted pussycat?" she asked the reflection of herself. "Lady or tramp? Hard or easy to lay? Tell me!"
Her big-breasted mirror twin made no answer.
An expression of smug satisfaction masked her beautiful face as she eyed her lush reflection with critical delight for a few more seconds. Then the smile mushroomed into a nervous laugh as she asked her double in the mirror, "How old are you, pussycat? Gordon insists you're only seventeen. An educated guess? Probably. He could be right, but you look a bit older in the tits. The rest of you is a mere slip of a girl. Honestly, outside of your titties there isn't enough meat on you to bait a mousetrap." She shrugged and made her breasts dance. "Well, judging by the way Gordon gobbled me up with his eyes before he shagged ass for the village, wherever in hell that is, he must like little baby girls with big titties. Cripes, the way his huge cock was fighting to break out of his pants when he walked out of this place, I was afraid he might ask me to soften it for him with my mouth, cunt or asshole."
She stopped talking and frowned again. Now why had she thought of sex in those three ways? Had she indulged in all of them at one time or another? Memory tugged and instinct said yes. This same instinct told her that she was not a virgin, but when had she lost her cherries in those three places ... and to whom? Gordon? Not likely. He didn't seem to belong anywhere in her lost past.
An excited look came into her eyes as she told her mirror twin, "Maybe Gordon doesn't belong in my past, but if that big hard-on I saw poking at his pants is indicative of anything, I have a hunch he's going to become an important part of my future. Damn, I never saw a man get so worked up and so fast!" She paused, then asked herself, "Now how do I know I never saw a man come down with a bad case of the hots so fast?"
A slight purple blemish along the left temple distracted her for a moment. She lifted a hand and touched it gingerly. This was the bump responsible for her amnesia, or so Gordon had diagnosed, but how had she come by the damn thing? That swing she thought she saw herself occupying-had she fallen from it? She wagged her head from side to side and a derisive smirk curved her lips. Now what in hell would a grown girl be doing on a fucking swing?
She stopped thinking about it. She turned away from the mirror and lowered her shapely ass into a plush red leather lounge chair. An expensive alligator skin handbag squatted on the floor beside the chair. Gordon said it belonged to her. She fished a cigarette from the handbag and flamed it to life with a lighter made of gold. Her clothing, two huge suitcases full, this handbag and its contents and the lighter-everything had cost a lot of money, prompting her to conclude that somewhere in the lost past she had lived extremely high off the porker.
Thoughts skittered through her mind in uneasy disorder, all vague. Nothing was real. Only this isolated hunting lodge was real. And Gordon.
Gordon. Her eyes blanked off into space as she sucked on the cigarette, her mind on Gordon Archer. The handsome man who had told her he was a doctor was essentially a ladies' man. A man that other men probably instinctively disliked and distrusted because of his animal magnetism, but admired for other reasons. During these past few hours she had decided he was a kind man, but in the same breath she added the footnote that Gordon Archer was also a horny man.
Horny? She chewed her lower lip for a moment and then a hint of amusement puckered one corner of her mouth. When Gordon returned from his trip to the village he called Wolfsville, would he try to do a sex number on her? And how would she react when he attempted to lower her panties so he could bury his obviously enormous cock in her tight little pussy? The answer was as obvious as the rock-hard erection she had seen pulsating behind his pants before his departure ... she would let him fuck her. Maybe she would even cram his prick in her mouth and suck him off ... or take his big donkey dick up her ass. Nothing about doing any of these acts repulsed her, for once again she had the strangest feeling that she had indulged in all of them before.
"Maybe I was a whore before I blanked out," she murmured to herself, but an inner voice declared otherwise.
Not a whore, the inner voice insisted. A willing wanton, but not a whore.
"Willing or not, pussycat," she laughed as she ditched her cigarette in the commode and left the John, "when Gordon returns from that funky village, me thinks you're going to get a royal fucking from him."
She entered the spacious living room and threw another log on the fire. A bar lined one side of the log wall and she glided over to it to build herself a highball. Then she crossed over to the window that overlooked the unpaved road leading down the side of the mountain and stared off into the darkness. Stars glittered pale and icy in the Pennsylvania sky and a sickle-shaped moon floated above the swaying treetops, but her impression of the night's beauty was vague, for she was suddenly impatient for Gordon Archer to arrive.
Where the hell was Gordon?
He should have been back from Wolfsville by now.
The beautiful blonde frowned worriedly. A few seconds later her tense face relaxed into a bright smile as she saw the headlights of Gordon's Continental suddenly pop into view and glide to a stop in front of the five-room hunting lodge. Somewhere deep within her young loins the heat of passion fluttered as she watched the tall, distinguished-looking man with the tinge of gray along his temples climb out of the car and wave at her. She waved back, then turned away from the window and walked back to the bar to build Gordon a drink, her hips twitching as the fire in her cunt became more acute.
"Animal magnetism is right," she told herself. "I've only known this man for a few hours and already I'm more than eager to have him fill my cunt with his big cock and drown my ovaries in his hot come."
Fucked.
She was anxious to get fucked by Gordon Archer.
And how she was anxious to get fucked!
Gordon charged into the elaborately furnished lodge before she finished mixing his whiskey sour. It didn't occur to her to wonder why she had blended this particular drink for him as she wagged her head at him and said teasingly, "If you're trying to get a heart attack, running up those damn stairs with a sack of groceries under each arm is a good way to score for one."
Gordon's handsome face crumpled in a lewd grin as he lowered the two bulging sacks of goodies to the sofa. "There's no history of heart trouble on either side of my family-only hard trouble."
Hard trouble? Her blood speeded up with excitement. She shook her head, eyes holding teasing laughter. Gordon wasn't wasting any time in trying to get some of her hot little body.
His coarseness should have offended her; it didn't. She laughed, then sobered abruptly as her glance dropped to the crotch of his tight pants. Her dark eyes grew large and a shiver rippled through her vibrant body. Gordon's cock was hard and straining against his deft pant leg, the egg-sized knob of it almost down to his knee. The mental ruler she used to measure his impressive prod wasn't exactly accurate, but combining this with a guess she estimated it to be all of ten inches long ... and fat as a bicycle tire.
"Hard trouble is putting it mildly," she said, matching his bluntness with some of her own as she nudged the whiskey sour into his hand. Her voice licked at him. "Well, down your sauce and then I'll see what I can do to soften your hard problem."
Gordon was horny, not thirsty. He placed his untouched drink on the mantel and trapped her in his arms before he said, "Why wait so long, my little sex bomb? Come here to Daddy."
"I already am," she whispered huskily as she groped blindly to place her drink next to his, then pressed the length of her supple body hard against his and ground her pelvic area over his throbbing cock and within seconds her hot and vibrant body was rocking with passion. "Do your thing, Doctor. Take my temperature with your thermometer of flesh. Sex. Give me sex."
Gordon was eager to comply. His mouth dropped over hers and his long tongue bolted past her teeth to prowl the warm and moist inner recess of her mouth. At the same time his arms dropped and his big hands cupped the dimpled cheeks of her firm ass to strain her closer. She felt an icy shiver of delight shoot through her system as the tip of his tongue tickled her tonsils and a clock tick later she broke free of the French kiss and panted, "Damn you for a sadist, I nearly creamed in my panties when you tried to ram your tongue down my throat." A breathless laugh gurgled out of her as she brought her right arm into motion and flicked a slender red-tipped finger against his still-sheathed cock. "If you want to thrill my tonsils with something, do it with this big rascal."
Gordon cocked his head to one side and studied her intently. "You sound as though you remember having performed fellatio before, April. Do you?"
April. He had given her this name before his departure for the village, adding that this was the month they were presently in and satisfying her with this explanation.
She frowned and smiled at the same time. "I can't remember anything beyond these past few hours, Gordon, but I feel as though I've sucked and fucked with one or more men somewhere along the line. Cocks feel rubbery inside a mouth and come tastes salty-sweet, only how the hell do I know these things?"
Gordon arranged his face solemnly. "Instinct, probably."
A malicious look of pleasure darted across her face. "Darn right. The same instinct that warns me I'm about to get worked over by a professional cocksmith."
An obscene grin split Gordon's face. "You're going to get worked over, that's for damn sure and although your ripe red mouth does present a tempting target, I would much rather start our ball of lust rolling by doing something else ... for openers."
April backed out of his hungry embrace and gave him a penetrating look. "Like what? Fucking my asshole?"
Gordon's mustache twitched as he fought to keep from smiling, shook his head. "Not at the moment, little one. Nor do I want to soak my cock in your sweet little pussy."
April cocked an amused eyebrow at him. "How do you know my cunt is sweet ... and little?"
"I examined it while you were unconscious," Gordon replied. "A good doctor has to be thorough, you know."
April laughed. "Not that thorough. Only my head was bruised, not my pussy." She stopped laughing and watched him closely. Her lips puckered thoughtfully. "Now, about this something else you want to do with me. You don't want to fuck me in the cunt or in the asshole and you don't want me to suck your big cock. So what's left? Armpits?"
Gordon shook his head again. "Damn the armpits, April. I have another target in mind."
April's delicate eyebrows arched quizzically. "Where else can you fuck me, lover?"
Gordon's eyes glowed like a cat's in the reflected overhead light. "Between the tits."
She stared at him. "You're kidding, aren't you?"
Gordon wagged his head. "No. I really would like to work off a load of passion cream between your lovely breasts. I've been wanting to fuck you there ever since the first time I saw them naked. May I?"
A mocking glint came into April's eyes. She laughed throatily. "Why not? Gut instinct tells me I've lost my virginity in other places, so I might as well lose it there, too." She drew back, breathing deeply, breasts rising and falling in rhythm to the mounting excitement that was blazing within her loins like an inferno. "Let me do a fast strip and then we'll go to gamesville."
"Please do."
April shrugged the cobweb-thin nightgown from her smooth shoulders and watched it drop to form into a mound around her ankles, silently wondering why she felt no embarrassment over what was happening ... and going to happen. Cripes, what sort of girl had she been before ...
Gordon cut into her thoughts by saying tightly, "Don't stop now, little April. You're doing fine." He leaned against the fireplace. His eyes feasted; his voice licked at her. "Take off your panties."
There was no hesitation. April hooked her fingers into the waistband of her black bikini panties and rolled them down and over her slender hips. Her bra-covered breasts swung free of her body as she knifed forward to follow the wispy briefs down to where she could step out of them. She straightened slowly, toed the wadded panties aside, then smiled and purred, "All right, Doctor, let's freak out. Tell me what I'm supposed to do."
Gordon stepped toward her, reached out and patted her left breast and said, "Stretch out."
April shivered under his touch. "On the sofa?"
Gordon shook his head. "On the floor. In front of the fireplace."
"Thank God for thick pile throw rugs," April said as she started to sink, then straightened and asked curiously, "What about this bra I'm wearing, lover?"
Gordon's wide shoulders twitched in a shrug. "Leave it on if you so desire."
April smiled wickedly. "It's your game; you tell me how to play it."
"Take it off."
"Help me."
"Turn around."
April obeyed, then shivered again and said, "I'm glad you're still dressed, you oversexed medicine man. Otherwise I'd be worrying that you might change your mind and tuck that big sausage of yours up my back hole before I could pave the way with a mud capsule."
Mud capsules to melt in her ass? Her face clouded for a moment. Was this why she carried them in her purse?
Gordon boomed a laugh and reached between her shoulder blades to unclasp the bra. Then he peeled it away and tumbled her ripe breasts into nakedness. He whirled her around to face him, to watch the air rush against her blushing pink nipples and stiffen them. The miniature spires looked both kissable and suckable, only he wasn't interested in going that route. Not yet.
Nor was April. She melted to the thick throw rug and stretched out on her back. She smiled at Gordon over the peaks of her breasts and purred, "I still think you're going to get the last cherry on my body, dirty old man, but I'm anxious to lose it, so drag out that big rope of yours and come and get it."
"Damn," Gordon hissed as he did a fast strip of his own and straddled her soft, warm stomach, "I hope to hell I don't drop my load before I reach those beautiful boobs of yours."
"You won't drop or waste it," April promised as she took his erection and placed it between her heaving breasts. A moment later she lifted her head and licked the underside of his large knob. "Big as you are, if I keep my mouth open while you screw my titties, I can get a good suck each time you hunch forward. I might even be able to catch and swallow your juices when they start flowing. How about that?"
Gordon grinned. "Yeah, how about that?"
April licked the underside of his cockhead again, then whispered harshly, "Pour it to me, Doctor."
Gordon needed no encouragement. He mashed her hot breasts together and felt them scorch his prick; the heat didn't stop or slow him down. He started rocking back and forth, like a child trying for its kicks on a hobby horse and each time his drooling dong popped into view April trapped the huge knob between her lips and took a hard suck at it, making air whistle from Gordon's lungs each time she did.
"Keep doing those nice things to me with your mouth," Gordon gasped, "and it won't be long before I climax."
"Gush in my mouth, not over my face!" April almost shouted. "Warn me when you're about to cream!"
Gordon pumped his organ between her tits a few more times, then rasped brokenly, "It won't be long now. I'm almost ... there ... take me!"
April lifted his bloated cock from between her breasts and took the huge knob and one or two inches of shaft inside her mouth. Gordon moaned and trembled. Every inch of his body felt aroused, awakened to flaming sensations as her expert lips embraced his prick and gave it a vicious suck. His sphincter quivered, contracted; his groin began to suffer the agonies of a thousand delights.
Sensing that he was hovering on the edge of eruption, April cupped his balls in her right hand, then kneaded them with a determined, caressing movement of her fingers, her mind begging him to drown her tonsils with a big, hot load of come!
Shock thrills of delight continued to charge through Gordon's system like wild bolts of electricity as orgasm threatened. He gritted his teeth and looked down at April's passion-flushed face. Her eyes were closed as her greedy lips pulled and tugged at the cock that filled her mouth. Looking at her, feeling the tension of her milking lips, added to the torment in his soul and brought more heat to the impending climax sloshing inside his loins.
"I can't stand much more of this," Gordon said gratingly. "Suck me, April. Harder. Finish me off and make me come. Now, little one, now!"
April raked his throbbing shaft with her teeth and made him groan again, louder this time. Then the sound belching from his throat dropped to a weak gurgle. She felt his prick twitch inside her mouth and a clock tick later thick streams of jism gushed from the nozzle of his cock and splashed against the back of her throat.
April gagged, then gulped, retched, gulped again. For a moment she thought she was going to be sick. Then the feeling passed and her stomach settled down. She took more of his cock into her mouth and kept swallowing, until he finished ejaculating and then she permitted her lips to loosen, causing his cock to make a soggy popping sound as it jumped out of her mouth.
A look of amusement crossed Gordon's sweat-stained face as he sat back on his heels and said, "For a moment there, I thought I was breaking you in on your first blow job, little one."
April glanced up at him sharply. "Gripes, was it that bad?"
Gordon shook his head slowly. "No, it was strictly top drawer, but you gagged."
April made a face. "That damn knob of yours caused a strange reaction when it made contact with my tonsils; I damn near upchucked."
Gordon gave a low laugh, tossing his head back. "I'm glad you didn't."
April smacked her slightly smudged lips. "So am I, dirty but kindly old doctor. Losing that meal of sperm would have ruined my whole evening, not to mention my professional standing with the Women's Whang Wringing Association of the World."
Gordon chuckled. "You're out to lunch."
April stuck her tongue out at him. "Not any more. I just had lunch." She smacked her lips again. "Sausage and gravy. Mmmmmmmm."
Gordon's cock was hardening again. He lifted it with both hands and extended it toward her mouth. "Would you care for some dessert, little one?"
April rolled her head from side to side on the thick throw rug. "Another time, lover. At the moment I'm more interested in getting a come of my own."
"Do you want me to reciprocate and eat you off?"
"No."
"A fuck?"
"Yes, but not in the fanny." April spread her shapely legs. "Come on, lover. Throw a wild fuck into my burning pussy."
Gordon needed no coaxing. He swung clear of her stomach and crawled between her yawning, legs. April trapped his hard cock in her right hand, tucked the knob between the wet lips of her tormented cunt, then grunted as Gordon rammed his prick home with one savage thrust that knocked the breath out of her.
"If you hunched into me like that to make me cry uncle, you wasted your time!" April screeched as her hips came alive and started grinding away at the phallic muscle that filled her cunt. "I can take it, I can take it!"
"You damn sure can!" Gordon grunted. "But only because you're a lot of woman."
April heard him, but only vaguely, for suddenly her mind began to whirl like a top. Her heart hammered wildly, her eyes closed and behind the eyelids rockets and sparklers exploded against a backdrop of black velvet. She felt herself being sucked into a different type of vortex this time, held fast to the whirlpool's swirling cone by a great force which was draining every ounce of reason out of her.
She moaned and whimpered and writhed and blindly groped for Gordon's mouth with her own. She found it, pried his lips apart and sucked his tongue into her mouth. Her legs coiled around him, her arms tightened around his neck. She sucked on his tongue, dug long fingernails into his back, made him whimper. Their bodies fused; they grunted into each other's mouths. Then, suddenly, the vortex released her. She stopped sucking on his tongue, ripped her mouth away from his and panted, "Harder, fuck me harder, you long-dicked darling!"
Gordon's body pounded against hers. His big hands stroked her hot and heaving breasts, his long fingers found and tweaked her tingling nipples and momentarily she was in a state of complete helplessness. His cock hammered in and out of her pussy. April moaned, clawed and chanted obscenities that would have shocked the average woman right out of her panties.
"Ram that big prod of yours deep in my twinkie, lover!" Her voice lifted suddenly and words poured from her in a wild torrent. "Growl like a goddamn dog and bury your bone deep in my cuntie! Pour it to me, you mule-dicked son of a satyr! Fuck me hard, fuck me silly, fuck me good!"
Gordon looked down at her passion-twisted face and saw her wide-open eyes glaze and then turn completely blank as the volcano erupted in her cunt and turned the moaning girl's world upside down with the sweetness of orgasm.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" April squealed. "Damn, damn, am I ever coming! Ahhhhhhh ... "
April's chant turned into a long-winded sigh as she tightened her legs around Gordon's bouncing haunches and shuddered her way through a delicious climax. The tips of her breasts stabbed at his chest as she strained her pelvic area to his. Gordon's own masculine response was immediate and a heartbeat later he matched her violent eruption with a rewarding one of his own.
Their juices flowed, mingled and a few convulsive eternities later Gordon lay spent on top of April, his sweaty face buried between her equally sweaty breasts, his softening cock still stashed inside her soggy cunt.
"There," April murmured as she felt his semen drain out of her quim and trickle down into the cleft between her dimpled buttocks, "that should hold both of us ... for a while."
A muscle twitched at the corners of Gordon's mouth as he came to a kneeling position between April's legs. His wilting whang made a sucking sound as it slipped out of her dripping cunt. He exhaled loudly and said, "A rest will do us both good ... for a while." He trapped her hands in his and lurched to his feet, bringing her up with him. He started to tease her. Something caught in his throat. He hawked it clear and his laugh was arrogant. "I wouldn't want to wear you out this early in the evening."
April stuck her tongue out at him and motioned him to a seat on the sofa. Gordon turned to obey, his limber cock swinging between his hairy legs like a length of wet rope as he shifted the two bags of groceries to the floor. Comparing his soft cock to a piece of rope brought another frown to April's brow. The swing on which she had envisioned the faceless girl had been constructed of a board seat ... and two lengths of braided rope.
Gordon's voice intruded upon her thoughts. "Stop chasing ghosts, little one. When the time is right, they'll come after you."
April looked at him curiously, feeling a mild resentment over his cutting into her thoughts. Then the mood passed and now a smile angled her mouth upwards as she trotted over to the mantel to retrieve their drinks. She carried them across the room and waited until she was seated next to him on the sofa before she asked, "How did you find me this afternoon, dirty old doctor?"
Gordon picked up his drink and stared into it for a moment. Then he locked glances with her and said patiently, "I've already told you how, little one."
His eyes probed the depths of hers and April suddenly felt like a germ under a microscope. A deep breath rocked her tantalizing breasts. "I know, but tell me again, lover."
Gordon took a taste of his drink, smiled tightly. "There isn't a hell of a lot to tell, really. I found you standing in a dazed condition beside your luggage on the outskirts of Wolfsville." His voice trailed off.
April chewed her lower lip for a moment. "You said I was hitchhiking. Is that right, lover?"
Gordon nodded vigorously. "That is correct, little one. Your thumb was out when I came upon you standing there. I was going to pass you by, but then you crumpled to the side of the highway and took the matter out of my hands. I stopped, discovered you were hurt from a fall or whatever, packed you in my car and brought you here to my Black Moshannon mountain retreat."
She studied him with a frank curiosity. "Why didn't you haul my ass into town, lover?"
Gordon hesitated before speaking. "The idea did occur to me, but then I started wondering why an expensively dressed young kitten with a large sum of money in her purse was doing the thumbing number and so I decided to give you the opportunity to explain. End of story. That's it-there is no more, little one."
April was aware of the rapid rise and fall of her breasts as she asked, "Then you don't know what really happened to me?"
Gordon shook his head. "Nor do I know where you came from, little one. I do know, however, that what you're suffering from at the moment comes under the heading of visual amnesia."
April blinked. "You mean there's more than one type?"
"Certainly."
April's palms dampened and a weakness settled into her knees. "About this funky visual amnesia of mine-how long am I going to be like this?"
Gordon's shoulders twitched in a mild shrug. "That's a difficult question to answer, April. Your present condition could last for hours, a day, a week ... or it could last longer."
A strange sickness crept into her stomach. "How much longer? Like months?"
"Possibly."
The sickness in her stomach retreated and gave way to annoyance. She grimaced. "Cripes, I don't think I can take not knowing who I am that long." She dropped a hand to his thigh and accidentally brushed the tips of her fingers against his slumbering cock. "I've got to find myself ... but how?"
Gordon smiled tolerantly. "Let's wait until morning before we start worrying ourselves, little one. If your malady continues to persist, then I'll drive into Wolfsville and see if I can find the key to unlock your past."
April stared at him, a puzzled expression in her dark eyes. "How?" Her voice crackled with anger. "By going to the police?"
Gordon studied her in a speculative manner for a long moment. "Is that what you want me to do, April? Go to the police and ask them to find out who you are?"
April forced herself to laugh. "No way, dirty old doctor. Somewhere in the haystack of my mind there's a needle and somehow I've got to find the damn thing ... without any help from the fuzz."
"You're afraid of them?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
A warped smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Because I had time to do some thinking while you were in the village."
"Oh?"
Her eyes jumped to his face. "I also had time to take inventory of my personal property. Cripes, talk about getting a jolt when I did that."
Gordon's eyebrows knitted in a frown. "Jolt? I'm afraid I don't understand."
She smiled sourly. "My luggage is expensive. So is my clothing. And there's the matter of having over a thousand dollars cash in my handbag. Now, either I came from a wealthy home, or else I'm a thief and maybe something else. Hell, man, I could be anything, so until I find out for certain who I am and what I am, I'd rather keep distance between myself and the fuzz."
"I understand. Well, you're safe here and I'm still willing to do some discreet checking on your past, but only if you think you can trust me."
"I trust you," April said, shifting suddenly to another mood. Her fingers moved and tightened around his rubbery cock. "Screwy as it may sound, I even think I love you."
Gordon shivered as she proceeded to stroke his whang into firmness. Then he leaned forward to get rid of his glass by placing it on the floor and said, "Save the hand massage for later, little one."
April stopped stroking his cock and stared at him. "You don't want to play?"
"I do, but not with my dick." He slipped from the sofa and dropped to his knees before her. His moustache twitched. "I'm going to cram my tongue inside your love nest and lick the come out of it."
April's legs yawned in invitation and when Gordon scooted between them she pulled his face to her hairy cunt and purred, "Lick away, hungry old doctor."
Gordon made a low growling sound and surrendered to his craving. He clutched April's hips and buried his face deeper in the curly-haired triangle that covered her cunt.
"That's a good start!" April squealed with delight as she gripped the back of Gordon's head and drew his face tight against her burning pussy. "Now stab me with your tongue and make my toenails quiver. Do it, lover, do it!"
Gordon licked his lips. Then he zeroed in for the kill and proceeded to eat April's juicy, young quim.
April whimpered with ecstasy as Gordon's tongue impaled her. His moustache tickled the lips of her pussy and drove her into a frenzy. Her hips jerked; a loud moan belched out of her.
"Sweet mother of all cunt lappers," she shrilled, "this feels so delicious!"
And it did.
The snaking tongue ... squirming inside her quim ... lifting her to new and strange heights of passion ... then bringing her down to earth and pushing her towards the steep cliff of release ... the wet edge of climax ...
"Go, lover, go!" April screeched as spasm after spasm of sheer delight shook her entire body. "Lay it on me! Eat me off, eat me up! Yes, yes, like that!"
Gordon continued to eat her cunt. Lewdly. Loudly. Hungrily. April closed her eyes and trembled violently. Her breasts rocked in rhythm to her harsh and ragged breathing and shock thrills raced up and down her spine. It was passion in high gear. Sweet passion. Blind passion. Fulfilling passion.
The writhing tongue ... curving ... caressing the inner walls of her melting cavern with fierce tenderness ... squirming like an angry snake ... bringing that sudden shove over the edge of climax closer and closer ... licking, twisting, thrusting, probing for the secret button that would bring a torrent of fluid blasting out of her ... making her groan ... and feel on fire ... and groan some more ... jolting her and clawing at her. until ...
A blast of wind broke past the prison of April's compressed lips and her fingers became tangled in Gordon's hair as orgasm threatened. The room turned into a quicksand bed that tried to suck her into sweet oblivion. She struggled against it for the space of a few pulse beats and then she succumbed to the inevitable and climaxed in the hungry doctor's mouth ...
Later, much later, Gordon removed his face from between her thighs and said, "Now I'm the one who needs relief, little one."
April replied shakily, "Call it, lover."
"Ass," Gordon rasped as he drew her down beside him and stretched her out on her back. "I want some of your tight little ass."
She smiled at him over the peaks of her heaving breasts. "Be my guest, lover."
"Spread those lovely legs of yours."
Her legs drifted apart. "Like this?"
"Perfect." Gordon scrambled between her scissored legs. A bead of sweat dropped from his chin and splattered against her right breast. He wiped it away, then smiled down at her and asked, "Are you ready to indulge, little one?"
April swallowed hard. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, lover. Just don't do a pig number on me and shove that big cock of yours up my ass with one lunge, okay?"
Gordon fisted his colossal cock and shook his head. "I won't, April. I'll feed your ass my prick a bit at a time. Trust me."
April exhaled loudly and relaxed. A clock tick later she felt the egg-sized knob of Gordon's magnificent prick split her sphincter. She tensed, yelped and then attempted to wriggle out from under the man whose cock was hurting her asshole.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" April screeched at the top of her lungs as she kept trying to escape his jabbing prick. "Take it out, take it out! Your cock is hurting me! Damn, damn, is your cock ever hurting my poor asshole!"
Gordon didn't withdraw. He draped her slender legs over his shoulders, then gripped her snaking hips. April was still yelping for mercy and attempting to squirm free when he shoved his cock all the way up her asshole with one brutal thrust that knocked the wind out of her.
"Cripes!" April blurted as the entire length of his big cock filled her asshole with the agony of a thousand hot daggers. "You're wiping me out, you're wiping me out!"
Gordon wriggled his sausage inside her back tunnel. Pain hardened April's long pink nipples and now his hungry lips dropped to devour the nearest one. He clamped his mouth over the jutting nipple and proceeded to tug and suck on it while he screwed her ass with his colossal cock.
Agony remained, causing April to hiss, "Goddamn you, dirty old man-take your cock out of my asshole!"
Gordon didn't. He withdrew his erection a few inches, then rammed it all the way into her hole again. April's breath escaped in a raw hiss and a sickening feeling ate at her guts as fresh bolts of misery shot through her system. She gritted her teeth, then suddenly unclenched them as agony turned into instant delight. Surprise masked her face, for now the whang sawing in and out of her anal passage was beginning to bring her passion to a head. She giggled girlishly and her hips began to move in a lazy grind that added to the pleasure she now was receiving from the sweet bone in her butt.
Gordon sensed her change of mood, permitted her nipple to slip out of his mouth, asked, "Still want me to take my meat out of your tight little bun?"
"No way, dirty old man!" April tightened her legs over his shoulders, pulled his face close to hers and panted, "You knew, didn't you? You weren't being sadistic when you rammed your big dink up my ass with one thrust, were you? You knew the agony would fade and then your sausage would feel heavenly inside my asshole."
Gordon continued to saw his whang in and out of her ass. "Heavenly? Is that how my cock feels to you?"
April kept lunging against the dong that filled her ass. "Yes, heavenly! Ah, I didn't think anything so huge could feel so wonderful inside my little asshole! But it does, it does! Pleasure on a stick!"
"That good, eh?"
"Right on, dirty old man, but not good enough." She laughed wildly. "You've got me turned on, now turn me off. Fuck me into a juicy come, lover. Ring my bell. Fuck me, fuck me! Yes, yes, like that! Ream me, ream me! Wheeee!"
Gordon's fingernails bit into April's churning hips as he began to push for his and her release from torment. He was relentless as he poured the prick to her. He bucked in and out of her anal passage with his horn of flesh and with each thrust his face became wetter and wetter, his breathing harsher and harsher.
He was standing on the brink of eruption.
April wasn't.
"My bell," she panted as she raked the heels of her slippers across his back, "ring my bell, lover!"
Gordon tried. He continued to gore her with his cock, his face becoming more and more twisted from the strain of approaching release. April met him with lunge for lunge. Her pussy was melting, her ass sensitive to the dong that filled it and momentarily she was flirting with a climax of her own. It built up slowly within her, like a dying ember being fanned into full flame and with each stab of Gordon's whang the heat became more and more intense ...
"I'm getting there!" April shouted at the top of her lungs as she shifted gears and threw her hips into overdrive. "No, I am there! Hot damn, I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"You aren't by yourself," Gordon rasped as he rammed his big cock deep within her asshole and locked it in place and a whisper later they exploded together ...
"Satisfied?" Gordon asked when he finished popping his nuts.
April sighed dreamily as her legs dropped from his hot shoulders. "More than satisfied, lover. I'm delirious. You just gave me another mind-bending orgasm. Man, did you ever give me a mind-bending orgasm!"
A hint of slyness crept into Gordon's voice. "Better than the one I gave you when I ate your cunt?"
She looked up at him, red lips parted, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Why should I tell you which one I liked best-the ass fucking or the tongue-lashing you gave my cunt? What do you think I am, a fink?"
Gordon chuckled and backed his wilting prick out of her tight asshole. April felt his come ooze out of her like sap from a young maple tree. She squirmed out from under him and sat up. More of his come leaked out of her asshole. She wanted more of his cock. All she could get.
She was insatiable.
She reached out to cup Gordon's balls in the palm of her left hand, his sagging cock in her right hand. She tried to tickle and pump his prick into hardness again, but as far as he was concerned, the game was ended for tonight.
He gently removed his balls and cock from her hands, lurched to his feet with a labored sigh and said, "I've had it for this evening, April. What say we hit the sheets?"
She caught his flaccid cock in her hand and kissed it resoundingly on the knob. Then she released it and winked at Gordon. "Good-night, lover. And sleep tight." She paused for a moment, added, "But try to do it with hands on top of the blankets, eh?"
Gordon walked out of the room, leaving a trail of happy laughter behind him.
CHAPTER TWO
April remained seated on the sofa and watched tongues of flame dance in the fireplace. Peace and quiet and aloneness brought sudden depression and she had the feeling that if she resorted to tears she would cry forever. She stared at the crackling fire and watched the flames suddenly shape themselves into the form of a little girl on a swing. Her eyes grew large and she began to tremble as she leaned forward and whispered to the burning phantom, "Come closer so I can see your face. Oh, please come closer!"
It didn't happen.
Damn!
April's naked breasts trembled as she jumped to her feet and proceeded to pace the floor. This girl on the swing ... who was she? And why was she haunting her? A fuzzy thought crawled into view. An important link to something? Probably. But what? If only she could find some way to melt that split second where yesterday had become frozen!
How?
Her luggage! Perhaps there was something in her luggage that might tell her where her past lay waiting!
She sped into the bedroom and found Gordon Archer dead to the world, snoring his ass off, his lipstick-smeared cock hard and pointed toward the ceiling. She turned away from his erection and attacked the mound of clothing on the other bed. Her expensive dresses, skirts and blouses should have contained labels; they didn't. Once they had and the marks of them still showed, but somewhere along the line they had been torn out. Had she removed these labels herself? If so, why? She shook her head. Christ!
There were no initials on her luggage and no identification inside her handbag. Compact, cigarette lighter; both unmarked. Over a thousand dollars in cash, but no checkbook. The money. How did she come by it? Had she hurt someone to get it? Someone who had a little girl who liked to ride on a swing? Was this how ...
Gordon's voice cut into her thoughts. "Are you all right, little one?" There was a note of deep concern in his sleepy-sounding voice.
April looked at him. He was up on one elbow, the light from the bed lamp playing on his face, the same light throwing the shadow of his stiff cock across the white bedsheet.
She gave him a weary smile. "I'm all right. Go back to sleep."
Gordon fisted his throbbing erection, grimaced. "With this? Be a good girl and soften it for me, will you?"
April drew back for an instant, bristling and during this wild moment she had the strangest premonition that in some way this horny old man was using her. Then the moment passed and she told herself that she was jumping at shadows. How could Gordon possibly use her? Cripes, the only thing he had tried to do during these past few hours they had been together was help her.
She rubbed her eyes, canted her head to one side and a smile softened her lips as she examined his erection from a safe distance and commented wryly, "Soften it with what? A meat mallet?"
"Let's see what happens," Gordon rejoined as he drew her to a sitting position on the edge of the bed and placed her hands on his rock-hard cock. "If you're not up to taking it in one of your holes, you can soften me with a hand job. I'm not fussy."
"Why waste a good load of male milk?" April said as she stroked his prick and felt it pulsate against her tense fingers. "I'd much rather have you squirt it inside my twinkie."
Gordon shuddered, rasped, "Keep playing with me like that and it won't be long before you get your 'druthers, little sex bomb."
April giggled and tightened her fingers around his dripping dong. "I'm with you, Doctor. Start filling my prescription."
Gordon shuddered again. Then he lifted his quaking hands to her breasts and hugged them with his strong fingers. He kneaded them slowly, tenderly and afterwards he tweaked her jutting nipples and sent a hot bolt of electricity shooting between her legs. A tiny gasp caught in April's throat, a flood of passion broke over her. She told him how wonderful it felt to have him toy with her titties, that it made her feel creamy all over and as she talked she continued to stroke his slobbering cock with renewed vigor. A minute or so earlier she hadn't wanted him. Now she did ...
Gordon stopped kneading her tingling breasts and asked, "Are you ready for your meat injection, April?"
She shivered with delight. "What a dumb question! I'm so damned hot if I had a cigarette in my mouth I'd be smoking at both ends."
Gordon laughed and came to his knees on the side of the rumpled bed. April exhaled loudly and sagged down beside him. She stretched out on her back, spread her legs in open invitation. She moaned softly, then murmured, "Do your number, lover. Ram that big fat cock of yours in my cunt and flood it with a nice hot load of come."
Gordon crawled between her yawning legs and admired her cunt for a long moment before he croaked, "One nice hot load of come on its way, baby."
"Pour it to me, lover!"
"I will, baby, I will!"
A dreamy smile haunted the corners of her mouth as she felt Gordon's swollen knob make contact with the damp lips of her starving cunt. She shivered and whispered savagely, "Gore my pussy with this lovely horn of yours, lover. Now-fuck me now!"
Gordon didn't. Not immediately. The tip of his prick moved away from her hungry cunt. April held her breath, waited, her expression puzzled. Moments later she felt his fingers find and part the moist lips of her cavern. He checked her for moisture, withdrew his fingers, replaced them with his cockhead. April experienced a brief twinge of discomfort as his cock entered her cunt. She thought he had rammed his meat all the way to its hilt. He hadn't.
Gordon hunched forward and crammed more of his magnificent muscle into her quim. She grunted, tensed beneath his pressing weight and cautioned, "Easy, lover, easy."
Gordon withdrew a portion of his prod, then cautiously wormed it back into her hole until his scrotum touched her hot, wet flesh. April felt no pain. She felt nothing except the wild wind of passion howling in her loins-the wild wind howling for release through climax.
"I can feel you throbbing inside me," April panted, "but I want to feel you stroking me! Do it, lover. Massage me into a juicy come!"
"I will, little one, only don't force me to work solo. Help me."
April did. The second his cock came alive inside her cunt, her passion swung into high gear. Her hips went berserk and so did the rest of her body. She got with it. She coiled her legs around his buttocks and met him lunge for lunge.
"How's this?" she asked.
"You're ... doing ... fine!"
April wanted to do better than fine. She laced her warm arms around Gordon's sweaty neck and drew his face tightly against her quaking breasts. Fiery currents of pleasure surged through every fiber of her being and a few heartbeats later she was flirting with climax.
Gordon's cock kept hammering into her cunt. April's breasts mashed against his face, then slid down and away as she brought his mouth toward hers for a kiss. Gordon's tongue darted past her teeth and waded through the moistness it found inside her mouth. They kissed while he clutched her flashing buttocks and sawed his cock in and out of her cunt.
"Doctor, Doctor, my temperature is rising!" April screeched as her hips rocked faster. "Do something to bring it down to normal! Fuck me harder, harder! Cool me off, cool me off! That's it! Beautiful! Ah, damn, damn, damn! One more jab and I'm going to blow all over this darling thermometer of yours!"
Gorden went for broke.
His cock continued to snake in and out of her snapping pussy with fierce determination.
In and out, in and out ...
"I'm ready to blow my kitty all over this lovely fuck stick of yours, lover!"
"Blow away, little one," Gordon said brokenly. "You won't be by yourself. I'm damned near ready to get my own cookies off. Let's make it a doubleheader, shall we?"
"Say when!"
"Now!" he barked. "Go, baby, go!"
April went. Her buttocks made dull slap-slap sounds against the mattress as she worked to meet his every thrust and a few pulse beats later their bodies fused as they growled and exploded in a simultaneous release.
"Ah, ah, ah," April sputtered, "that feels so goddamn good!"
And it did.
Gordon's jism scorched the inner walls of April's cunt and drove her up the wall with pleasure. This was it! The mingling of juices, the locking of flesh, the embracing of souls! Her buttocks thumped against the mattress, her eyes became frozen with blankness in their sockets, her thighs twitched and grunt after grunt bounced out of her throat like hurled rocks ...
"Oh, Daddy," she said raggedly.
Some of his sperm oozed out of her cunt and stung the cleft between the dimpled cheeks of her ass. She didn't flinch. She didn't give a hoot in hell about the hot fluid that tormented her quivering asshole. She was oblivious to everything except the delicious sensations shooting through her system and the knowledge that she had been fucked into another mind-shattering orgasm by a truly expert cocksmith.
April finished erupting and relaxed suddenly, then waited for the moon-bathed bedroom to stop spinning like a top.
Gordon finished getting his rocks off and backed his cock out of her cunt. He rocked back on his heels and watched her closely for a long moment before saying quietly, "While you were having your orgasm, you called me 'Daddy,' little one. Can you tell me why? Were you subconsciously remembering something? More important, are you still remembering why you called me that?"
April frowned, then shook her head slowly against the pillow. "If there's an incestuous incident buried in my past, which is what you're hinting at, I sure as hell can't recall it. As for my calling you 'Daddy,' there could be another reason why I did that. I wasn't a virgin when you found me a few hours back and since it's rather obvious that I'm attracted to older men, I might be an orphan tramp with a father fixation."
Gordon laughed and crawled out from between her legs before he said, "Well, whatever ran through your mind when you called me that, I'm glad it did, little one." He stretched out beside her and laced his hands behind his head. His voice sounded tired as he said, "You can call me Daddy any time."
"Thank you, Daddy," April said with a lightness she wasn't feeling, but Gordon Archer didn't hear her, for his labored breathing told her that he was fast asleep ... again.
April sat up in bed and swung her legs to the floor. She walked over to the window, breasts bouncing. Beyond the pane she could hear the wind moving through the nearby trees. Moments later, her mind conjured up the picture of the faceless girl on the swing.
Who are you? April's mind asked the faceless girl on the swing. Who are you?
The girl on the swing went away without answering.
April sobbed loudly.
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, as April was cooking ham and eggs for their breakfast, they heard a vehicle rattle to a stop outside. She glanced at Gordon sharply. "I wonder who that is?"
"The handyman I mentioned," Gordon replied as he speared some ham and eggs onto his plate. "There are only two old pickups in Wolfsville that sound as though they're falling apart and one of them is laid up for repairs at the local car hospital."
Knuckles tapped against the kitchen door and April called, "Come in!"
The man who entered was tall, thin, shaggy-haired and at least twenty years older than Gordon, who appeared to be somewhere in his early forties. Pop Westrum had the hungriest pair of eyes this side of Voyeur City. The way they devoured her breasts, April could only conclude that Pop Westrum wasn't scoring too regularly with the ladies in his neighborhood.
Pop Westrum stopped staring at April's exciting breasts and glanced at Gordon. "Where do you want me to start, Doc?"
"Try that stand of hickory behind the out building. I noticed three or four dead ones when I was here last summer."
Pop Westrum nodded, took another look at April's breasts and walked out of the house.
"Gripes," April said when the door closed behind Pop, "did you see the way that old lecher ate me up with his eyes?"
Gordon pushed his plate aside and stood up. "Pop knows table stuff when he sees it. So do I." He licked his lips. "Are you up to indulging me in a bit of dessert before I leave for town?"
April saw his erection straining against his pants and smirked. "I thought the way to your heart was through my stomach, dirty old man. Don't you want to fuck me?"
Gordon shook his head. "Not this morning. I'd rather eat you while you eat me."
"Sixty-nine?" She frowned. "Now how did I know that?" She looked at him gravely. "Cripes, maybe I really was a play for pay girl before you met me yesterday, Gordon."
He regarded her evenly. "Does it bother you, little one?"
"Having maybe been a slut?" She gave a low laugh, tossing her head back. "No way! Only going without sex seems to bother me. You bother me, too. So does that big cock of yours." Her tongue raced around her lips in an obscene manner. "Let's go into the bedroom where I can get at that proud rascal ... and take some of the starch out of it."
Gordon's eyes glittered with amusement. "Sounds as though you're ready for action, little one."
April laughed and sped toward the bedroom, with Gordon panting after her. She couldn't get there fast enough. She was ready. More than ready. And absolutely willing to eat his cock while he did the same to her pussy.
Once the bedroom door closed behind them, April wasted no time in getting the show on the road. She lowered her ass to the edge of the rumpled bed and pulled Gordon to a sitting position beside her. He wasted no time, either. He slipped his left arm around her shoulders, then lifted his right hand to touch her breasts.
April quivered with excitement and her breathing turned ragged as his long fingers tweaked and teased her nipples into stiffness through the material that covered them.
"Ummmmm," she purred, "your fingers feel nice on my titties."
Gordon chuckled and kept kneading her breasts. A heartbeat later he leaned over and nipped her on the side of her neck.
His teeth brought a reaction. Icicles of pleasure raced through April's body and drove her wild. Reflexively, she gripped his thigh to steady herself against the jolting sensations that were shocking her from head to toes. She stopped shivering suddenly, flopped back on the bed and panted, "Get with it, dirty old doctor. Take off my pants and do your thing."
Gordon stood up. Then he bent over and fumbled for the zipper on her pants. He loosened it with slightly trembling fingers and April felt cool air rush against her warm flesh as he tugged them down and all the way free. Her heart pounded like an angry hammer as he drew her to a sitting position and proceeded to unbutton her blouse. His fingers squirmed over the buttons and momentarily the material gaped to reveal her crowded half-bra. A slide, a push, a tug and now she was down to her bra and bikini panties ... and on her back again.
Gordon's hands kept moving. They found the warm flesh of her inner thighs, crept upward to the damp webbing of her panties. A whimper of delight escaped her slightly parted lips as the tips of his fingers brushed against the crotch of her panties, creating a disturbance within her young loins like an active volcano on the verge of eruption. Her nerve tips turned raw with heat and her dampening cunt began to tingle with need. Each time Gordon's fingertips caressed the cloth-covered area at the junction of her thighs, the muscles in her cunt would contract and send spasms tearing through her being, rocking her very soul until she felt like screaming for mercy ... but she didn't.
Gordon seemed to sense the heat that gripped her, for at that moment when April opened her mouth to ask for his tongue, he drew aside the wet webbing of her panties to expose the entire area of her cunt to his digital attack.
His fingers scorched as they touched the wet little aperture at the base of her pubic jungle and proceeded to manipulate her cuntlips working his tips around the clit until her hips went berserk.
"No more torture," April hissed. "Take me!"
"I will, little one," Gordon rasped as he shifted position once more and dropped his mouth towards hers for a kiss. "I will."
Their mouths collided. April's lips parted and Gordon's tongue darted inside her mouth, its tip grazing the roof of her mouth like a jolt from a live electric wire. She belched air into his mouth, then gasped again as his hands left her vagina to grip her writhing buttocks and knead them fiercely while he French-kissed her into a complete state of helplessness. Then, suddenly, mouth, tongue and hands withdrew and by the time her eyes stopped floating in her sockets, Gordon was out of bed and in the act of undressing.
April watched him skin out of his shirt. Then she sat up and swung her legs to the floor. She stared at the bulge in his crotch for a long moment and now a lazy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she reached out to touch his rigid cock, still concealed in his pants. Her fingers tensed, touched, stroked. They fumbled for his zipper, found it. The zipper hummed as she ran it down. Then she reached inside his pants and hauled his cock into view. She laughed, yanked and brought him back into bed with her, then murmured harshly, "Chow time, dirty old doctor."
Gordon jerked his cock out of her grip and squirmed to the edge of the bed to remove his pants. Then he finished undressing her. The panties went first, her bra next and now they were both naked. Gordon swapped ends so that he was straddling April, mouth hovering over her hairy twat, his cock dangling near her parted lips.
"Go, little one," Gordon croaked. "Now!"
April trapped his dangling cock in both hands and sucked the tip of it into her mouth. She started devouring, using her lips, tongue and teeth to bring the cream ripping out of his pulsating prick.
Sounds filled the room. Hungry sounds. Becoming louder as Gordon came alive and added to them.
His breath was hot against her belly as he dug his fingers into her smooth thighs and pried her legs apart, then dropped his face to the junction and attacked her drooling twinkie with his mouth.
April moaned around the dick that crowded her mouth, then sucked it all the way down into her throat, completely oblivious to the feat she had just accomplished as she coiled her legs around Gordon's neck and thrust her cunt hard against his hot and sweaty face.
Eat me, her brain shrilled. Eat me up, eat me off! Make me come a gallon in your mouth!
Gordon responded to her silent plea. His tongue came alive and he went to work on her cunt. He buried his tongue deep in her hole and sucked at the fluid that oozed out of it. He licked, sucked, slurped, withdrew ... gnawed on her jutting pink clit and chewed at the moisture in her pubic forest.
At the other end, April tugged and sucked on the cock that filled her mouth, feeling excitement ripple through Gordon's body. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Gordon stiffened his knees and jerked his prick out of her mouth, uncoiled her legs from around his neck, removed his sweat-drenched face from her cunt and turned himself around on the bed.
April's eyes grew large as she watched him fist his bloated cock, then scamper between her legs to take her in a normal way and bring her to climax. He rocked back on his heels for a moment. Then he placed the knob of his cock against the soggy opening of her pussy and hunched into it.
Breath jumped out of April's throat as the entire length of his cock gored her quim. Her breasts heaved, her thigh muscles contracted and then she turned limp with a suddenness that almost startled Gordon's cock out of her hole.
He looked down into her passion-glazed eyes and said, "What-?"
The rest of his words died deep in his throat as April came alive with motion. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks, shifted her hips into high gear and shrilled, "Don't just kneel there, lover! Ram it to me! Fuck me, fuck me!"
Gordon responded. He gripped her churning hips and went to work on her tight little pussy. His cock turned into a battering ram of flesh. Pounding. Withdrawing. Slamming in again and again, until, finally, he was ready to flush her inner cunt with his sperm.
"Bingo!" April screeched as she tightened her legs around his ass and pulled the entire length of his cock into her cunt. "I'm creaming, I'm creaming!"
So was Gordon.
They climaxed together.
He kept coming, coming, coming ... holding his whang tight and deep within her cavern ... shivering and groaning as the hot liquid tore out of his cock in angry spurts ... finally stopping ... draining and causing him to collapse in a weary heap on top of her.
"Cripes," April said breathlessly as his cock slipped out of her hole, "you really popped that time, dirty old doctor! I was beginning to think you'd never stop coming!"
Gordon laughed. Then he sobered abruptly and climbed out of bed. April lay on her side and watched him pick up his pants and step into them. A frown wrinkled her brow. Gordon had drowned himself in her flesh and now he seemed impatient to be gone. She watched him closely and once again she had the nagging feeling that in some way and not in a sexual sense, this man was using her.
She shrugged suspicion from her mind, smiled at him and asked, "Will you be gone long, lover?"
Gordon crammed his withered whang inside his pants and zipped up before he answered. "I might not get back until dark, little one." His face remained without expression. "Don't become impatient if I'm a bit late ... and don't risk embarrassment by becoming friendly, or engaging in conversation with Pop Westrum."
April's eyes pierced him; her voice turned sharp. "Are you asking me to stay away from the woodchopper, or are you ordering me?"
Gordon stared at her with frosty disapproval for a moment, then brought a grin to his lips. "I fail to understand why you're suddenly upset with me, little one, but rest assured that I'm not ordering you to do anything. My mention of avoiding Pop Westrum was merely a suggestion, one that you needn't follow. By all means, do as you wish while I'm in the village." His eyes caressed her. "As long as you don't surrender your beautiful self to that obviously hungry old lecher."
April's annoyance dissolved. She stuck her pink tongue out at him and said, "The one thing I don't need is a sex session with that old reprobate." She slipped out of the rumpled bed, grimaced. "But I do need a bath; I'm starting to smell like a wet dog."
Gordon gave her a playful slap on the rump. "The only thing you reek of is the aftermath of lust, April. Sweat and semen." He pecked her on the cheek and pinched her on the ass. "I'll see you tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy your bath."
He left.
April stood beside the bed until she heard Gordon drive off towards the village. The roar of the car's powerful engine faded and then she heard the ringing of an axe against wood, coming from somewhere close to the lodge.
"Keep chopping, old thing," she muttered on the heel of a soft laugh. "Keep chopping until you sweat every drop of lust you felt toward me out of your system."
April trotted into the bathroom and started running water into the bathtub. After she had bathed and dressed, she returned to the living room and made herself a screwdriver.
A wave of self-pity washed over her and she was still bathing in it when she heard the kitchen door open, then slam shut and a few seconds later she turned away from the window and found herself face-to-face with Pop Westrum.
A look of surprise crossed April's face; her heart began to hammer. A moment later she became slightly miffed, pointed dramatically toward the door at the old man's back and hissed, "Out, you lecherous son of a bitch!"
He didn't move.
April kept pointing and now her voice was charged with an electric savagery that made the old man cringe as she shrilled, "Move it, prick, move it!"
Pop Westrum didn't budge. He shook his head vigorously as he said, "Reckon I can't leave you without punishing your pretty ass for what you did with Doc, naughty little girl."
April stared at him. "Punish?"
Pop's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Yeah. With my hands. Over your sweet little rump."
April blinked. "Spank?"
Pop nodded. "That's it. I've got a calling ... had it for a long time ... and this calling tells me I gotta dust the hell out of your panties for this sinful act you performed with Doc."
April made a derisive sound. "You're off your stick, silly old man. The only thing you're going to dust around here is the furniture, but I don't think I'll even let you do that."
"You can't stop me. The matter's out of your hands."
"Like hell it is!"
"Like hell it isn't!" Pop Westrum stepped toward her menacingly, teeth bared in a wolfish smile. "It's my calling. I gotta dust your sinful ass."
"Stay away from me, you dilapidated dingbat. Touch me in any way and I'll get some of your dirty ass by telling Gordon on you when he gets back from the village. I mean it, you old reprobate, I'll tell him if you so much as lay a finger on me."
Pop Westrum smiled mirthlessly, shook his grizzled head. "If you tell Doc anything, it won't be here."
April's face remained without expression. "What do you mean?"
Pop Westrum's eyes met and bored into hers. "Doc isn't coming back, naughty little girl. My friend got what he wanted from you and now he's cut out." Pop brayed a laugh. "Your own daddy fucked you and then shagged ass! Isn't that a kick in the head?"
April's eyes turned stony. "You've got static in the attic, old man. In the first place, I'm not Gordon Archer's brat and in the second place, he'll never leave me ... so get your scrawny ass out of here before I do something we'll both regret ... like thumping your melon with a full bottle of expensive booze."
Pop treated her to a shit-eating grin, shook his head again. "That will never happen, my warm-pussied little girl. But I'll tell you what will." His jaw set squarely. "You'll end up across my knees and you'll yell bloody murder at the top of your voice while I spank the shit out of that pretty ass of yours."
April gave him a scathing look. "You aren't man enough to warm my bottom, you ancient creep!" Her smile became sardonic. "You aren't man enough to do anything to me."
The crappy grin dropped from Pop's lips. He cocked a shaggy eyebrow at April. Anger came slowly, but it came. He advanced toward her and growled, "No? Well, we'll see about that, you passionate little pussycat."
April held her ground, eyes static with fury, claws bared for battle. One step took her to the bar. She fisted a bottle of vodka by its neck and said threateningly, "Keep your funky distance, old fart."
Pop Westrum didn't. He closed the narrow gap between them, took the bottle from her hand, placed it on the bar and then said mockingly, "I knew you wouldn't do me any harm, naughty little girl. Wanna know why? The idea of getting your fanny dusted appeals to you, doesn't it?" He snorted. "You don't hafta answer. I can see it in those black eyes of yours. You wanna feel my hand on the cheeks of that pretty ass of yours."
April swallowed hard. "I ... "
Pop nodded vigorously. "Yeah, you wanta be punished, you naughty little girl."
"You're off your fucking wire," April hissed as she dug the heels of her hands into his chest and attempted to shove him off balance. "Get out!"
Pop caught her by the wrists and whirled her around, her ass toward him. He forced her against the bar and kept her pinned there. Before April could twist free to do battle, his bony hand cracked across her tight little asscheeks and made her howl in pain.
"Damn you for a sadist," April screeched, "that hurts!"
"It's supposed to," Pop rasped as he whacked her across the ass again. "A spanking is no good unless the one getting spanked remembers it."
April whimpered as his hand stung her ass flesh, then gritted her teeth. Anger mingled with the agony that scorched her brain. She wasn't about to stand like a tame pussy and let this cruel old fart brand her bottom With finger marks. No way!
She reached back and groped for his crotch. Her fingers grazed his erection and she wondered fleetingly when he had managed to expose himself as she gripped his little prick and gave it a violent twist that brought a loud grunt ripping out of the oldster.
April's breasts crashed against Pop's heaving chest as she turned, then shoved and backed away from him. Pop stopped grimacing, grinned as his tiny erection held and advanced towards her with a mask of determination on his time-wrinkled face that was almost frightening.
"Naughty little girl," he said vehemently, "I'm going to beat the skin off your ass for what you just tried to do to my cock."
April kept back pedaling, eyes wide and alert, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to her rapid breathing. A moment later she tripped on the throw rug, stumbled, fell to the floor, face up. She rolled over on her belly to scramble erect, but before she could do so Pop dropped down behind her and hissed, "Gotcha!" His left arm snaked around her waist and a clock tick later his right hand exploded against her taut ass like a bomb.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" April shrilled.
Pop Westrum's bony hand smacked across her ass again.
Words piled up in April's throat and then she hurled them at him like rocks. "Bastard! Filthy degenerate! Spank freak! Prick with ears! Lousy walking abortion! Your father would have been better off if he would have jerked off in your mother's face and raised a pig instead of you! Sorry, rotten ... " The rest of her words were bitten off as Pop's hand burned her ass and now she changed her tune and chanted, "No more, old man, no more! Oh, please, please don't spank me anymore! Fuck me, make me eat you off, but don't spank me anymore!"
Pop kept striking.
Whack!
April's voice lifted higher with every whack he gave her across the ass. She begged him to stop. Then, suddenly, she stopped begging, for unexpectedly the pain turned into pleasure ... and filled her cunt with the wild heat of desire to receive more punishment from his hurting hand!
Her hips jerked and she cried, "Harder! Spank me harder! Blister my fanny and make my pussy cry! Beat me, Daddy, beat me! Do it, damn you, do it!"
Pop responded vigorously.
Smack!
"Oooh, you're making me feel creamy all over!"
Smack!
"Wheeee ... !"
Smack!
April's hips shifted into gear as Pop continued to spank her bottom. Needles of delight stitched thrill after thrill into every blushing inch of her body, driving her berserk with joy, causing her to pant, "Your hand won't do it. I need something else to finish me. I need your tiny cock inside of me! Do it, old man-fuck me!"
Pop stopped spanking and croaked, "One ream job coming up, naughty little girl!"
April tensed as the pointed tip of his tiny cock gouged her pouting anal circle; then she hissed, "Not in the ass, old man. Stick your cock in my cuntie!"
"Not a chance!" Pop growled as he gripped her writhing hips and shoved his little cock between her asscheeks. "When I want a piece of ass, I want the real thing!"
April grunted at the moment of impalement and then whimpered like a frightened puppy as Pop hunched forward and filled her ass with his throbbing cock.
"Oooh," April squealed, "that smarts!"
Pop withdrew a little.
"No," April panted, "don't take it out, old man. I'm all right. No more pain. Go ahead. Fuck my ass. Fuck it, fuck it!"
"Like this?" Pop asked as he buried the bone deep and brought his hot balls to a rest against the equally hot cheeks of her ass. "Like this?"
"Yes, yes," April replied, her voice dripping with passion. "Oooh, that feels so freaky!"
Pop laughed, froze.
"Don't stop," April begged. "Don't keep your sweet sausage idle in my back hole. Wriggle it like a worm. That's it. Make me bomb. Pour that little hot dog of yours to my asshole and give me a come! Bore me, old man, bore me!"
Pop released his grip on her churning hips and palmed her bra-covered breasts. He kneaded them while he battered her anal tunnel with his cock. He fucked her furiously. In and out. Huffing and puffing. Pumping his prick with piston-like precision. He didn't miss a stroke. His knees ached and sweat masked his passion-twisted face, but his whang kept snaking in and out of April's butt and momentarily the threat of climax made him oblivious to everything except his own appeasement.
April shivered and flirted with an eruption of her own. Her hips jerked, then went berserk. Her voice lifted and she chanted, "Make me come, make me come, make me come ... !"
Pop's bony hands kneaded her breasts and his strong fingers found and trapped her tumid nipples. He wished he could take her stabbing nipples in his mouth and suck on them, but in order to do this those big dairies of hers would have to suddenly appear on her back and so he remained content to fondle them and add to her frenzy while doing so ...
"I'm almost ready to drop my load," April shrilled as her hips increased their speed and lifted him to new and greater heights of pleasure. "Slap it to me! Faster! Fuck me faster!"
"How's this?"
"Faster!"
Pop tightened his grip on her breasts and gored her back hole with his horn of flesh. Three strokes later he buried it deep in her bowels and rasped, "I'm coming ... !"
"So am I, so am I!"
They exploded together ...
Pop jerked his prod out of her back passage and sat on his heels to watch her. A grin split his wrinkled face as he saw his semen run from her hole and splatter against the floor like tears from a one-eyed whore trying to explain a slow night to an angry pimp.
More fluid ran out of her ass as April shifted position to face Pop. Passion cooled; her voice cooled with it. She licked her lips and said woodenly, "I think you'd better go, old man."
"Yeah." He stood up, grinned. "But I won't go far. Just out to the wood pile. And if Doc doesn't come back, it's going to be you and me ... all night long."
April lowered her eyes as the color came up in her cheeks. She was blushing like a virgin on the verge of losing her cherry, but not from embarrassment. Her mood was acid ... and terrifying ... for suddenly she was hating this old man standing before her ... enough to want him dead!
Pop Westrum's raspy voice pierced her whirling thoughts. "Yes, naughty little girl, if Doc doesn't come back, you and I are going to fuck and suck each other blind."
April made no answer. She couldn't speak. Her tongue refused to work; her face turned blank. The urge to kill was becoming stronger. She shook her head. She didn't want to hurt Pop Westrum. But if the old fart persisted in staying ...
"Please leave before I do something we'll both regret, old man."
He looked at her narrowly for a second and then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked out into the morning sunlight and a minute or so later April heard his pickup rattle off in the direction of the village.
April's strange mood vanished. Now she could think again, move again. Anger left. Terror returned. A rumble in the hills pulled her attention toward the window. Rain clouds were gathering; a lightning storm was coming. Worry crawled across her face. She wished Gordon would come before the storm.
Nerves remained jangled. A drink. She needed a drink. She poured herself a generous slug of bourbon. It didn't help. Her brain continued to riot. She couldn't stop thinking about the way she had wanted to kill Pop Westrum.
April shivered convulsively. Something was wrong with her. Radically wrong. She wanted to know what that something was. But where in hell could she start hunting for the answers that were driving her up the wall? She frowned slightly. Wolfsville, perhaps. She nodded thoughtfully. Why not? Gordon had mentioned finding her on the outskirts of that village. Maybe someone there would recognize her. For better or for worse, she had to know.
April would ask Gordon to drive her into the village ... tonight. Another rumble of thunder, this one closer, caused her to take a deep breath and add the mental footnote: Maybe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lightning snaked across the black sky and thunder crashed and echoed through the surrounding hills, instilling within April the feeling that she was witnessing the end of the world. The rain fell in liquid sheets, covering the window panes so that the frightened blonde could see nothing.
April struggled to keep a firm grip on her sanity, but it wasn't easy. The rain, the lightning and the thunder-the whole world around her was suddenly turning into a chamber of horrors.
Breasts bouncing wildly, she sped from the den into the living room to get herself a drink.
Terror ran with her. She felt like screaming. She didn't ...
She found Gordon standing inside the open doorway, dripping like the trees outside the windows, looking worried as he stared at her bleached face. April slid to a stop near the sofa and glared back at him. There was a terrible silence for a few seconds. Then, slowly, panic drained out of her system as though an invisible hand had pulled the cork on her bottled emotions and momentarily she made a whimpering sound and ran into the shelter of his outstretched arms. She pressed her face against his chest, feeling the wetness, smelling the material of his coat and then she began to cry softly.
"Easy, little one," Gordon said gently. "You can stop worrying. There's nothing to worry about. You're safe. I'm home."
April sniffed and lifted her head from his chest. She treated him to a wobbly smile and said shakily, "I'm all right now, d-dirty old man. It's j-just that I c-chickened out when n-night came, along with this d-damn storm. Especially after Pop Westrum told me you w-weren't coming b-back."
Gordon bridled instantly. "That stupid bastard-I should have had better sense than to bring him here."
"It's all right," April said, stepping back to look at him. "As long as you're home again." Her voice turned brisk. "You must be starved. Can I fix you something to eat?"
Gordon struggled out of his soggy coat. "I ate in town, but I could use a stiff drink."
April built a pair of whiskey sours and joined him on the sofa. She clinked her glass against his and said, "Bottoms up, dirty old man. Not yours-mine."
"My, my," Gordon clucked as he pushed the hem of her robe away from her pale thighs and flicked a long finger against the snug webbing of her panties, "we are ready, aren't we?"
"Blame it on the rain," April said without thinking. "Water always makes me feel freaky." She stopped talking suddenly, frowned. "Now how in the hell do I know that?"
Gordon paused with the glass near his lips and stared at her over the rim of it. "You don't remember?"
April smiled bitterly, shook her head.
"Well, don't let it throw you, little one. Bits and pieces will continue to crawl out of your subconscious and in time you'll recall everything."
"I hope so."
"I know so."
"I'll take your word for it, dirty old doctor." She laughed. "Your word isn't the only thing I'm going to take. Finish your damn drink so I can seduce you." April stood up and slipped out of her robe, anxious to become involved with him so that she could forget about the lightning and the loud thunder that was beginning to unnerve her again. "Up and at 'em, lover."
Gordon lurched to his feet with a loud sigh. April glanced down at his crotch and felt her blood speed up. A slow smile crawled across her face. It didn't take much to get this man interested in playing games with her; his cock was already stiff and ready for action.
"All right, little wanton," Gordon rasped as he downed his drink and nodded toward the scatter rug they had used as a mattress for last night's orgy, "let's get with it."
April dropped to the rug and stretched out on her back, breasts trembling. "Any time, G. A."
Gordon Archer laughed harshly and said, "You sound like a secretary getting ready to sex it up with her boss with that G. A. routine." He laughed again. "Well, keep talking until I get around to silencing you with this hard cock of mine." His gentle eyes caressed her. "Maybe I'll start by letting you chomp on it a bit. On the other hand, I might decide to shove it up your pretty ass, or between the lips of your juicy cunt. One way or another, you're going to get this big bone of mine ... and the marrow."
The sound of Gordon's voice spewing obscenities, combined with the knowledge of what was about to unfold, brought hot flashes of excitement charging into April's body. Teeth bared in a lewd smile, breasts rocking wildly, she stretched her arms up and out in invitation and purred, "Come and get me, dirty old man."
Gordon dropped to his knees between her yawning legs and pressed his body on top of hers. His still sheathed cock pulsated against her right thigh as he looked down into her passion-glazed eyes and croaked, "Now what, little one?"
"Don't ask me," April teased. "You're the doctor."
Gordon chuckled and moved his right hand to the junction of her thighs. He pulled the webbing of her panties to one side and proceeded to manipulate her clitoral spire with his fingers. April gasped, writhed, then gasped again as his fingers moved away from her clit and two of them darted between the moistening lips of her pussy.
She jerked her cunt away from his eager fingers and panted, "No, lover, not like that. Kiss me, hold me, feel me ... and then fuck me."
"Anything you say, little one," Gordon said as his mouth lowered to meet hers. "One kiss for my fair maiden coming at you."
Their mouths collided hungrily. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, shivered, loving the taste of it, the feel of it, along with the pressure of his cock that throbbed against her thigh. The lightning, rain and thunder faded into oblivion as passion gripped and now the whole world around her was suddenly dry, calm ... and beautiful.
Gordon's hands slid around her slightly moving hips and found the cheeks of her ass. He kneaded the twin loaves of flesh through the white nylon panties that covered them for a full minute. Then his fingers squirmed behind the material and momentarily his middle finger found and gouged her puckered asshole.
April moaned into his mouth as his finger passed beyond her anal circle and began to probe deep. She shuddered. Then she laced her arms around him and proceeded to mash and rub her bra-covered breasts against his chest ... wanting him to know that she was enjoying this closeness as much as he was. Her legs came alive and tightened around him, drawing his pelvic area to hers, wanting to feel his cock. She could feel the energy in his cock as he tensed and shoved against her pussy and now she wanted to feel the power charging into her.
She released his tongue from the prison of her mouth and purred, "No more teasing, lover. I can't stand any more teasing. I want you, I need you. Strip me ... and then fuck me, fuck me! Now, lover, now!"
Gordon slid back on his knees and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her white bikini panties. Nylon whispered against flesh as he tugged them down over her hips, her thighs and all the way off. He admired her cunt for a moment, smacked his lips, then growled, "Now for the rest of it."
Gordon didn't bother to unclasp her bra. He simply hooked his fingers into the material between the cups and gave it a violent jerk; snaps gave, straps broke and a clock tick later April's large breasts quivered into nakedness, their blushing pink tips pointing upwards.
April sat up and reached for him. "Now it's my turn to undress you, lover."
Gordon heaved to his feet, bringing April up with him. She attacked his clothing with frenzied fingers. Then she stretched out on her back again and murmured passionately, "Bring that big bone down here to where I can get at it, lover,"
Gordon knelt between her legs again. April reached out and gripped his turgid cock with both hands. She tugged, stroked and made him grimace.
"Easy does it, little wanton," Gordon cautioned. "Keep flogging me like that and I'm liable to come all over your fingers."
April giggled. "I'd rather have you cream inside my pussy."
Gordon shook his head. "Not with this load."
April pouted prettily. "Oh?"
"A suck job," Gordon rasped. "I want you to start me off with a suck job."
April released her grip on his cock. "Whatever turns you on, my mule-dicked darling."
Gordon stretched out beside her and laced his hands behind his skull. April sat up and stared. His love muscle jutted ceiling ward for a few seconds, then lost its balance and tilted a little toward his stomach to betray the large bag at the base of it that contained his enormous testicles.
Gordon broke into her thoughts. "Are you going to sit there and look me off, little one?"
April answered him with motion. She scooted between his legs, facing him. Then she gripped his erection with both hands and tucked the knob inside her mouth. The immediate taste of his seminal fluid drove her wild with delight. Suddenly she wanted more of his throbbing cock inside her mouth ... all of it. She went for broke and succeeded.
"Damn!" Gordon said with awe as he felt his shaft slide down into her throat. "You'd make an excellent sword swallower! Go, little one! Eat me!"
April went. Her head bobbed, her lips worked, her tongue licked. Nobody could have prevented her from finishing him. Nobody tried.
"Go, little one, go!"
April did.
"My balls," Gordon said harshly as he tangled his fingers in April's hair. "Play with my balls while you suck on my cock. It will make me come much faster. Do it, little one, do it!"
April obeyed. Her right hand cupped his perspiration-drenched scrotum. She tickled his eggs and then she rolled them back and forth between her fingers like a pair of marbles. Gordon grunted. Sweet agony filled his loins. His lips worked but no sound came past them. A moment later it didn't matter one damned bit, for suddenly April gave his pain-filled cock a violent suck and on the heel of this he felt his balls explode with orgasm. Spasms ripped through his body, ecstasy singed the tips of his nerves and words bounced out of his parched throat, one at a time: "Swallow ... my ... sperm ... all ... of ... it!"
April swallowed.
"Ah," Gordon groaned.
April kept Gordon's pulsating cock trapped inside her mouth, long after he stopped coming. She sucked and gnawed him into a second erection. Then she took it out of her mouth and purred, "Now me, you virile bastard. Bury your big bone in my hole and give me a juicy come!"
"I'm going to give you more than one," Gordon threatened as he mounted April and slipped his slobbering sword of flesh into her dewy scabbard. "I'm going to fuck you until it stops raining."
April laughed wildly and made her breasts quiver. "You might end up with a raw cock before that happens, dirty old doctor."
Gordon Archer almost did just that.
It rained all night.
CHAPTER FIVE
Morning found April seated at the kitchen table reading a note left by Gordon. The eventually deciphered scrawl informed her that Gordon had gone to Tyrone, a town on the other side of the Seven Sisters hills, to ask someone a few questions about something.
To ask someone a few questions about something? Beyond the Seven Sisters hills? In Tyrone? April tucked the tip of her tongue in the pocket of her left cheek. Why in hell hadn't Gordon mentioned this intended trip to Tyrone last night? Tyrone. She shook her head. The name didn't ring a bell. Nor did the Seven Sisters hills. Nothing did. Amnesia continued to grip her mind. Shit.
April went to the bedroom and struggled into a pair of faded jeans, blouse and sandals, then slipped out into the new day.
She walked slowly down the narrow ribbon of dirt road, across the hooded plank bridge and moved across the wet meadow. She plucked a juicy red apple from a crooked tree and munched on it as she moved aimlessly through the lush orchard. Her eyes roamed around, then lifted toward the heavens. Overhead the sky was beautiful. Fluffy white pillows of clouds drifted lazily and the orange blob of sun warmed. Birds sang and somewhere in the forest she heard a dog yapping in pursuit of something.
April smiled.
And kept walking, looking, listening, smelling. And thinking.
A horn honked, cutting into her thoughts, bringing back the dark shadows to her brain. She whirled toward the dirt road that slashed the heart of the meadow and saw Pop Westrum waving at her from his battered pickup. Breasts rocked behind the boyish white blouse that covered them; her heart hammered with excitement. Pop. If she treated him right, maybe he would slip up and tell her something about Dr. Gordon Archer ... and maybe about herself. It was worth a try ...
"Which way were you heading when I drove up?" Pop asked as she climbed into the ancient pickup. "Toward the village?"
April shook her head. "I got hungry for some fresh air and took a walk. I was about to return to the lodge when you arrived. Mind driving me there?"
"My pleasure." Pop set the truck in motion with a grind of gears that made April wince before he added, "Doing anything for or with you is always a pleasure."
Always? She couldn't recall meeting this old pervert before yesterday ...
Pop slid the pickup to a stop in front of the lodge. April went up the short flight of stairs ahead of him, feeling his hot eyes burning into her jean-covered ass. She smiled coldly and thought, I might have to get my panties dusted again, but before he leaves here, I'm going to get some answers out of him.
Pop Westrum wasn't interested in spanking April this morning. The moment they walked into the living room and before she could even offer him a drink, he trapped her in his arms and kissed her. His mouth was hard and demanding and the feel of his lips was enough to send shivers of repulsion icing up and down her spine. She started to tear her mouth away from his, caught herself as she remembered that he was somehow entangled with her past and with this in mind she parted her lips to receive his tongue.
Pop's arms tightened around her body as he bolted his tongue past her teeth and he strained his groin against her pelvic area. Through the snug material of her jeans, April could feel the hardness of his ridiculously small cock punching against her cunt. She almost laughed as he made a growling sound deep in his throat and started to grind his immature sausage into her. Cripes, letting him stab her pussy with that little thing would be akin to sitting on a child's finger, but let him she would. She had something he wanted and he had something she wanted; she was willing to trade.
Nausea threatened and for a moment she experienced a twinge of fear, but the moment passed.
Without warning, Pop started to throw her emotions out of control by running his bony hands up and down her hips, kneading them with his fingers, making her ache and tingle all over with feelings she didn't want to experience, but couldn't avoid.
This old bastard was turning her on!
April's arms lifted and coiled around his hot neck as though they had a will of their own. Without awareness, she sucked his tongue down into her throat, simultaneously grinding and mashing her cunt over his small but firm erection. Trying to make him as hot as herself, succeeding.
Pop Westrum was lost now, trapped in a web of mounting excitement that blinded him to everything except the tempest of lust raging in his loins. His head twisted, his tongue jerked free of April's moist mouth. He licked her cheeks, her throat, her hair, all the while panting ... and poking at her covered cunt with his throbbing cock.
Suddenly, his bony hands left her slowly moving hips and darted between their bodies to find and cup her blouse-and-bra-covered breasts. Ache became a pleasure and April felt her nipples blossoming under the tweaking Pop was giving them with his eager fingers. There was a moan that began deep within her throat and momentarily jumped out of her mouth in the form of a bizarre, shrill shriek before it turned into a parade of words that begged Pop to, "Fuck me, old man, fuck me!"
Pop rasped, "I can't do it while you've got your clothes on."
"Then strip me, strip me!"
Pop barked a mean laugh and went to work on the buttons of her blouse. He was impatient, clumsy and it seemed as though it took forever before he managed to partly open her blouse, enough to reveal the upper hemispheres of her tits and the tantalizing cleft between them. He blinked, smacked his pink lips and then he moved his mouth down to the slender column of her neck and into the shadowy valley between her tumultuous tits.
April shuddered and whimpered with delight as each hungry swipe of Pop Westrum's long tongue drove her farther and farther up the invisible wall of passion. "Fuck me, old man! Throw me down on the floor and feed some cream to my hungry kitty!"
Pop smirked but made no answer. His hands came into motion again. He ran his bony fingers up along the ridge of her spine and fumbled for the clasps of her half-bra. He fumbled, found, loosened and a moment later April's glance dropped to watch her milk-white breasts dance into nakedness. She saw them, but only briefly, for the instant they were bared Pop dipped his head and trapped her jutting left nipple between his greedy lips. He started sucking and gnawing.
She whimpered, delirious with the pleasure she was feeling from this new, erotic contact. The pressure of this oldster's tense lips, his teeth, his tongue rimming the pink tip of her breast was driving her out of her wig. She froze, thawed, then screamed with delight and in a primitive burst of blind enthusiasm she locked both arms around the back of his skull to pull his face closer, silently wishing she could cram the entire breast he was feeding on inside his working mouth.
Unexpectedly, Pop Westrum stopped gnawing and sucking on her left nipple and permitted it to slip from between his expert lips. Without a word being spoken, they melted toward the floor in unison. The wood was damp and cold and hard, but April couldn't have cared less; she would have slept on a bed of nails in order to get the love cream from Pop's cock that would soothe and cool the heat now raging like a forest fire out of control within her tormented quim.
"My jeans," April panted. "Remove my jeans and panties, you dirty old man!"
Pop responded with clumsy eagerness. A zipper whispered in the silence, jeans loosened at the hip and April came up on her elbows to watch the ancient pussy hound tug them down to her trim ankles ... and all the way free of her body.
Pop tossed the jeans aside, but made no immediate move to remove her white bikini panties. The urge to caress her bubbled within him and he succumbed to it. His long fingers crawled over her breasts, down to her rounded stomach, over her slightly twitching hips and onto her gleaming thighs, moving like worms in a hurry. He tickled, teased and then his hands moved to the inner part of her thighs and slowly moved back and forth until April thought she would faint from the electrical bolts of pleasure that racked her body.
She tried to speak, a frustrated sputtering. "Now!" she managed finally. "Fuck me now, old man! Don't tease me anymore! Fuck me, damn you, fuck me!"
Pop said nothing and did nothing to appease her. A slightly cruel look glinted in his eyes as he zeroed in on her breasts again ... trapping a nipple ... sucking and gnawing on it with gusto while his bony fingers wriggled up and down the flesh of her inner thighs.
April's loins rioted; her hips jerked and she felt a growing wetness between her legs. A few heartbeats later her panties were soggy at the crotch from the cream that oozed from her crying cunt. The odor of her fluid mingled with her perfume and the sweat smell of Pop's body, filling the room with the muskiness of lust usually associated with an elaborate whorehouse. The smell excited and now her ass began to make slap-slap sounds against the hardwood floor as she tried desperately to gain relief from the burning agony that was blazing within her cunt-burning and begging for attention from the old man's cock.
Pop Westrum continued to ignore the frustration that embraced her. A warped smile played at the corners of his mouth as he wriggled his bony fingers upwards with maddening slowness and once again proceeded to tease the hot flesh of her quivering thighs.
"Are you ready?" he asked inanely, then laughed because he already knew the answer.
April seethed with desire. "Take me," she panted. "Take me, fuck me. Please, please, please fuck me!"
She took his hand impulsively and placed it on her crotch ... shivering as his palm collided with her still-covered quim ... and curbing the impulse to scream with pleasure as she felt a knuckle bump into her jutting clitoral spire. God, that tiny collision felt so wonderful!
"I want you!" she shrieked. "Take me, you old bastard, fuck me!"
Pop Westrum didn't. Not immediately.
Impatience mounted. April lifted her buttocks and rammed her pussy against the curved palm of his hand, using this way to tell him how desperately her cunt desired to be gored, massaged and released from bondage so that she could return to the world of sanity again.
Pop Westrum got the message and replied in his own perverse way. His fingers came alive, tickling the wet lips of her twinkie through the equally soggy material that covered them. Tickling. Gouging. Hurting. Withdrawing. Moving to where she could feel the pressure of his digit on her jutting pink clit. Stirring her. Making her moan and flinch as though she were being flogged with a cat o' nine tails, causing her to spew obscenities she would never have said under normal conditions.
"Spank me, fuck me, ream me, eat me, make me eat you, but do something! Sex, goddamn you for a stinking degenerate, give me your stiff prick! Do you hear me, you rotten son of a bitch? Fuck me, eat me, hurt me ... but do it now!"
Pop Westrum didn't seem to hear her for a moment and then he did. Ignoring the rivulets of sweat that coursed down his cheeks in a slow crawl, he crooked and hooked his long fingers into the waistband of April's panties and lifted the elastic away from her trembling belly. Then he slid the briefs downward and removed them. He tossed the wadded panties aside, moved between her gaping legs and then his fingers proceeded to prowl through the damp area of her pubic forest in search of her clitoris.
"Damn you," April hissed, "if you want me to come all over your stinking finger, that's a good way for it to happen!"
Pop barked a laugh and backed his hand away from her clit. Quickly, viciously, he shoved his middle finger between the drooling lips of her quim and started to masturbate her.
The shock of his finger penetrating, then working back and forth, made April's twinkie drip like a leaky faucet. Orgasm threatened. She fought it. She didn't want it. Not without a tongue or a cock inside of her seeping slit.
Pop's finger kept moving for a few more seconds, then stopped and withdrew from between the lips of her pussy and on the heel of this he rasped, "Now we're going to get down to brass tacks, naughty little girl. Spread your legs ... and get ready to grind those hips of yours while I make you cream. Yawn 'em, girl, yawn 'em!"
April scissored her shapely legs as wide as she possibly could to give his miniature penis full access to her slippery slit. Pop zeroed in for the kill and rammed his tiny tool into her hot pussy. He wasn't huge but April felt him and it made her remember something she had forgotten, that it wasn't how much you had but how well you used it that made the difference. And Pop Westrum knew how to use his cock. Man, did he ever know how to use it!
He gored, backed off and gored again and his movements brought April to life. She ground her hips and pumped her buttocks up and down with piston-like precision, meeting the old man thrust for thrust, moaning and sobbing as passion grew stronger and stronger by the moment and threatened to devour her.
And then it happened ... suddenly and without warning. She grunted ... and bombed in orgasm.
It was an explosion that shredded her bowels and sent flak ripping through every part of her body, wounding her soul, her breasts, her cunt ... and even her ass. And April wished it would never end.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" she screamed and now her hips went berserk. "Oh, god, I'm coming so much ... !"
"Come away," Pop Westrum croaked. "You won't be by yourself. Feel me squirting into your cunt? Do you feel me popping my wad into your naughty little pussy?"
"Yes, oh, yes!" April shouted ... and she did feel his hot juices mingling with hers ...
Pop kept ejaculating ... and fucking like a lust-crazed rabbit. He rammed, backed up, then rammed into April's cunt again ... gushing and gushing until the last droplet of passion fluid drained out of his whang ... making her spasm and spasm over and over with him.
April's was the wildest of releases. The room tilted, upended, slid over the edge of blackness and vanished. She moved into a cottony vacuum where nothing breathed, nothing moved and the only tangible thing that could be called reality was the already softening cock slithering in and out of her cunt. She was completely out of it ... lost in ecstasy ... engulfed in the roaring vortex of a post-orgasmic daze.
So engulfed, in fact, that by permitting the whirlpool of post-orgasm to suck her under, she didn't hear the front door of the lodge open until it was too late ... for anything.
The door opened, the door slammed shut and then a loud, angry voice boomed, "You sorry son of a bitch, Pop, I told you to watch April, not fuck her!"
Pop Westrum stiffened as though someone had shoved a broom handle up his ass. His wilting whang jumped out of April's dripping quim and a pulse beat later the startled and obviously terrified oldster threw his body to one side and rolled clear of her.
"Sorry son of a bitch!" the angry voice echoed. "Filthy, revolting son of a bitch!"
April came to a sitting position on the floor, breath dead for a few seconds, eyes large in their sockets. Then her lungs started to function properly again. Her breasts trembled, but she couldn't speak, or move. Standing before her like an apparition from the darkest depths of hell, his body silhouetted against the noon sunlight that crowded the doorway, was the man who had turned back and fucked-up the calendar in her mind ... Dr. Gordon Archer!
And he had caught her getting the meat slapped to her pussy by old Pop Westrum!
CHAPTER SIX
For the space of a few more pulsating seconds time stood frozen. Then reason returned. Slowly. Now April could think again, move again. Her eyes focused and she saw Gordon Archer charging across the room like a bull in heat, arms cocked, fists clenched, his face masked with rage. April's mind turned to ice. Her eyes were bright. Feverish. Excitement clawed at her like an angry alley cat and she managed to say breathlessly, "No, Gordon, no! Don't hurt him!"
Gordon didn't seem to hear her, or maybe he didn't want to hear her. Lips bared in a cruel smile, her eyes hard as steel balls, he jerked Pop Westrum erect and shoved the old man toward the open door, then snarled, "Get the fuck out of my sight before I kick your ass up between your skinny shoulders, you son of a bitch!"
"Doc-"
"Now, damn you!"
Pop Westrum didn't argue. He got out. Quickly.
April remained seated on the floor for a few more seconds, breasts heaving wildly, their nipples jutting. A sickening spasm passed through her stomach, a shiver scurried across her flesh and then sudden anger embraced. She scrambled to her feet and faced Gordon defiantly, claws bared for battle. Her smile was wicked and menace edged her voice as she hissed, "Stay away from me, you lying prick with ears! I mean it! Come one step closer and I'll do my damnedest to castrate you with my fingernails!"
Gordon drew back, breathing deeply. His eyes smoldered for a few seconds, then died and became lusterless. Arms dropped to his sides, fists unclenched and then he forced a calmness he did not feel into his voice before he said, "I never intended to hurt you, little one. I still don't."
Anger remained. Gordon's face became a blur in the red mist that swirled before her eyes. The urge to kill-the same primitive impulse she had experienced with Pop Westrum after he had used her body, was back again. Her heart hammered, her voice lifted and became a screech. "Liar! Rotten goddamn liar! You've been hurting me right along! You've been using me!"
Gordon gave her a quick look of incredulity, shook his head. He watched the frozen anger on her face and tried to melt it with a bright smile, then said, "Calm down and we'll discuss it, little one."
Colors exploded behind her eyes and formed into a psychedelic rainbow of fury. Gordon's asking her to calm down wasn't a request, really. It was an order.
April didn't calm down.
"Prick," she shrilled, "you used me!"
A smile quivered on Gordon's lips. He shook his head again, keeping his voice gentle. "You may have been used, little one, but not by me. I only meant to help ... "
"Liar! Goddamn stinking liar!"
Gordon lapsed into silence. His pulse quickened. His skin crawled. A shudder convulsed him. He kept watching April. Closely. Anxiously. Waiting for her to explode into a bomb of flesh ...
The urge to destroy this man grew stronger within April's seething brain and she succumbed to it. Her eyes danced in search of a weapon. She wheeled towards the bar. There was a nearly full bottle of liquor within easy reach. She snatched it up, broke it against the-edge of the bar top, then pointed the jagged neck at Gordon and rasped, "I'm going to kill your lying ass!"
Gordon paled and stepped toward her. "No, baby, no." His voice remained calm. "The bottle. Give me the bottle."
April's eyes were hard black balls of hatred. Gordon reached out toward the weapon in her hand. Warding him off, she slashed wildly.
Gordon stepped back, then forward again. April recoiled. Too late. His fingers found and trapped her wrists. He applied pressure, forcing her to drop the weapon. It clinked to the floor and he kicked it away. Then he released his grip on her wrists and pulled her into the circle of his arms, to hold her tightly.
She felt a stab of pain as her breasts turned pneumatic against his chest and she squealed, "Turn me loose, you prick!"
Gordon didn't.
April cursed, struggled to break free. A waste of energy. His arms were like steel bands. She couldn't escape. But she kept trying. She lifted a knee and attempted to bury it in his groin. Gordon took it on his thigh, grunted. Then, seemingly without anger, he pushed her away from himself and slapped her across the face. Hard.
April gasped and turned into a statue of flesh as surprise and pain jumped into her face. She blinked and now her eyes were the color of black velvet, darkly inscrutable, for the slap had pulled the cork and now the liquid impulse to turn Gordon into tombstone bait drained out of her. A shiver passed over her and it was as though someone had just walked over her grave. She felt lost. Isolated. And terrified as she remembered what she had nearly done to this man standing before her.
Her lips worked soundlessly for a few seconds and then the words bounced out of her, "My god, I tried to kill you!"
Gordon's voice turned gruff. "Forget it, little one. All things considered, yours was a normal reaction. You've been under a great strain these past few days. Something had to give."
April's breasts trembled. So did her voice. "This isn't the first time it's happened. I was tempted to do the same thing to Pop Westrum after he ... "
"It's over," Gordon cut in, his voice suddenly rising. "Let it ride."
A blurred memory crawled into view. "Pop isn't the first one I've wanted to do in," she said hollowly. "Somewhere in the past and don't ask me how I know, I have the kinkiest feeling that I murdered someone."
"Nonsense!"
April went on as though Gordon hadn't spoken. "Who? That little girl on a swing I keep seeing in my mind?" Her brow wrinkled in a frown. "Why would I want to kill her?"
Gordon exhaled loudly. "Wait for your memory to return naturally. It will. Give it time."
April felt a passing irritation. She locked glances with Gordon and received a pleasant jolt. Gordon's eyes, she discovered, were gray. Like wood smoke. Sad eyes. Compassionate eyes. Love-filled eyes that were begging her to let time and nature cope with the darkness that enshrouded her mind.
She smiled wistfully and said in a little girl's voice, "Why do you love me so much, dirty old doctor? You don't even know me." She cocked a questioning eyebrow at him. "Or do you?"
Gordon's eyes sparkled with amusement. "All I know about you is that you're a girl with a problem."
Gordon was being evasive and April sensed as much, but suddenly she found herself not giving a damn. The past, the present, the future ... life, death, lust ... everything seemed warped ... and maybe, for her, it would always be this way ... so why fight it? Yeah, why?
April smirked at Gordon. "So I'm a girl with a problem, eh? What sort of problem? A mental one?"
Gordon sensed her change of mood and wagged his head from side to side. "Not mental. Physical."
He was attempting to distract her with sex ... again. April pouted prettily. "Oh? Is the patient incurable?"
"At the risk of making a premature prognosis, I'm willing to insure complete recovery if said patient submits to cock therapy."
"Immediately?"
Gordon grinned. "No. Not until after the doctor does an exploratory with his tongue."
April shivered with delight as a strange yet familiar warmth proceeded to flood her loins. She was becoming aroused.
April's voice sounded tight as she asked, "Do you want to take your meal on the floor, lover?"
Gordon grinned. "No. Nor do I want to eat while you're standing up." He smacked his lips. "Stretch out on the sofa so I can go the gourmet route in style."
April laughed musically and stretched out on the sofa, breasts aimed toward the high ceiling. She spread her legs, then dropped one over the edge of the sofa to the floor. She watched Gordon as he undressed in silence and once again her mind went off on a humorous medical kick, recalling an expression she had either heard or uttered that went, "No, dear, a basilyst tractor is not something farmers ride on."
April's brows knitted as she watched Gordon shrug out of his shirt and unzip his pants. Why was she so friendly with medical jargon and why did she mix it with the language of a hipster? She was not old enough to work in a hospital, not unless she had been a candy striper, but even this would not explain the knowledge she had. Cripes, how many other seventeen-year-old girls were there who knew that a vasovesiculectomy involved the excision of the vas deferens and seminal vesicles? Or that metrophlebitis was an inflammation of the uterine veins? Or that ...
"Stop trying to slip away from me, little one," Gordon groused as he kicked free of his pants and drew her attention to his massive cock. "Concentrate on the massage I'm going to give your juicy pussy with my tongue and forget everything else."
"Forget?" April made a sour face. "That's my problem, you horny old aspirin pusher-forgetting."
Gordon chuckled and dropped to his knees beside her. He didn't want her to get wound up again and he shot his best lick to keep her from getting that way. He wasted no time. He buried his right hand in her pubic jungle and moved his glistening face toward hers for a kiss. His lips mashed against hers and his tongue plunged deep into her mouth, its tip curving upward to tickle her uvula. Simultaneously, his right hand left her hairy cunt to join the other one in the gripping of her dimpled buttocks. He kneaded her flesh for a few seconds. Then he slipped a long finger beyond April's snapping sphincter, causing her to move her mouth away from his and whisper huskily, "I thought you wanted to eat me, not goose me."
Gordon laughed and rammed his finger all the way inside her asshole.
April gasped.
Gordon laughed again. Then he withdrew his digit from her ass and proceeded to build a fire under her. He was expert at creating burning flesh. He worked slowly. Maddeningly. Deliberately.
"Come on, dirty but kindly old physician," April panted, "do your thing with that delicious tongue of yours and make my hormones jump."
Gordon dropped his sweat-drenched face between her breasts for a moment. Then he moved his head and trapped one of her blushing pink nipples with his eager lips. April recoiled. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, as if Gordon had taken the air out of her lungs with one delicious suck.
April gasped. He sucked harder. April shuddered. He bit down gently on her nipple and made her sphincter contract. April whimpered with pleasure. He gnawed on the nipple for a full minute, then shifted over to the other one and did the same thing to it.
April rocked and shook as her emotions fell apart and now loud moans seeped out of her. Breasts tingled with every suck and nip his lips and teeth gave them and now the lava of lust bubbled in the volcano of her cunt and threatened to erupt.
"No more breast playing," April said harshly. "Drop your face between my legs and give me a ride on your tongue! Eat me, lover, eat me!"
Gordon stopped sucking on her tingling nipples. He gripped her writhing hips and dragged his tongue downward over her hot skin. His mouth found the gentle curve of her belly and his tongue licked at her pouting navel, then stiffened and stabbed into it, making her stomach muscles quiver.
"Damn you!" April hissed as she pushed his digging tongue away from her belly. "I nearly crapped when you did that!"
Gordon moved his perspiring face down to the pale triangle at the junction of her thighs and sniffed her cunt. April's hips jerked faster. Gordon kept moving. He stopped inhaling the fragrance of her melting quim and tongued her thighs, her calves, the tips of her toes, the soles of her small feet. Then he began the return trip to her juicy pussy, turning April into a writhing column of burning flesh whose flames nearly threatened her with oblivion.
"Your tongue," she croaked. "Bury your tongue inside my slit and lick me into a come, lover! Devour me, devour me! I need your tongue! Now, lover, now!"
Not yet, Gordon thought as he pressed his wet face into her pubis once more to prowl in search of her tumid clitoris.
April whimpered again as Gordon found and sucked her clitoris into his mouth. Electrical shock thrills of delight charged through her body as his teeth grazed her boy-in-the-boat. She grunted, clutched his ears, attempted to ram her clitoral spire down his throat and shrieked, "You're doing it, you're doing it! You're going to make me cream without getting that long tongue of yours inside my twinkie! Damn, damn, damn, are you ever going to make me come!"
Gordon continued to massage her clit with his strong lips. He sucked, he shocked it with his molars and then he stopped suddenly and spat it out of his mouth.
"Don't stop now!" April hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't leave me dangling! Lap me, lap me!"
Gordon needed no encouragement. His open mouth dropped to press against the dewy lips of her cavern. He hesitated for the space of a heartbeat and then his tongue darted past his gaping lips to impale her.
April sucked at the air.
Gordon proceeded to suck her pussy.
April's senses reeled and her thigh muscles twitched as Gordon's squirming tongue shocked the inner walls of her cunt, lifting her, dropping her, then lifting her again into the boundless realms of ecstasy. Over and over he stabbed her with his long tongue ... slurping up the love cream that catered to his tastebuds. He licked, he slurped, he battered the walls of her cavern with his tongue and just as April started reaching for a star ... he dug his middle finger into her anal passage and made her bomb with climax.
April erupted. And kept erupting ...
Gordon licked her into dryness. Then he removed his tired tongue from between the rubbery lips of her cunt and said affectionately, "You are the juiciest little rascal I've ever known, baby."
April swung her left leg over his head and sat up, eyes dancing with amusement. "Sort of like being the quim of the crop, eh?"
Gordon's mouth twisted in a grimace. "You could have gone the rest of the day without saying that, little wanton."
"So sue me."
"I'd rather screw you."
April pulled him to a sitting position beside her and shook her head. "Not yet. You enjoy diving in the bush and I enjoy swinging on a limb, which is a polite way of saying that I'm going to suck this big dong of yours before I let you stick me with it. Dig?" Before Gordon could reply, she slipped to a kneeling position on the floor, spread his legs and scampered between them. Then she caught his shaft in both hands and planted a butterfly kiss on the swollen tip of it. A moment later she smiled up at him and asked, "You like?"
Gordon was shivering. "I like everything we do together, little minx." He reached out to caress her cheek, smiled. "I guess that's because I love you."
April's voice turned teasing. "What you're really saying is that you love what I'm about to do with my mouth to your big cock."
"Yes, that, too." He removed his hand from her warm cheek. "No more talking, little wanton. Relieve the pressure in my groin with one of those beautiful blow jobs of yours. Now."
April lifted his heavy cock and sucked the huge knob into her mouth. She winced inwardly as a sickening spasm passed through her stomach. His cock tasted funny. Salty. And dirty. As though he had used it on another woman's pussy before his return from the village ... or from Tyrone.
For a moment she was tempted to take his prick out of her mouth and question him about the "other woman", but the moment passed as her stomach settled down and her tastebuds ignored everything except the sour-sweet fluid oozing from the tiny aperture on the end of the knob her lips held captive.
She pulled more of his cock into her mouth and made a small gagging sound as the tip of it hit the back of her throat, but she didn't slow down. Her right hand left his shaft and cupped his nuggets and momentarily she began to blow him ... thrilling to the taste of his juices ... the sponginess of his flesh ... the feel of his throbbing veins as she ran her tongue up and down the length of his bloated cock.
"Jesus," Gordon croaked, "the way you suck a cock is out of this world! Go, little one, go!"
April went.
Gordon started to go ape as he felt her tongue roaming over the knob of his cock, her fingers toying with his balls. Sweat popped out on his brow and trickled down the planes of his face. A gasp belched out of him as April nipped him with her teeth. He glanced down and saw that over half of his prod was inside her mouth. A clock tick later she took the rest of it inside her mouth and made him gasp again. His nuggets rested against her chin for a moment and then she started bobbing her. head over his shaft. Up. Down. Up. Down. Milking. Sucking. Teething. Turning him on. Making his asshole pucker as though someone had rubbed it with alum.
April kept sucking and it felt as though she were trying to draw his toenails into her mouth via his whang. There was nothing amateurish about the way she blew him. April really knew how to suck a man off. She pulled and nipped until he thought he would die from sheer pleasure. He gripped her ears and threw his pelvic area forward, but the length of his cock didn't seem to bother April. Not one damned bit.
She gulped as his cock slid down into her throat ... but she didn't stop sucking on it.
"Go to it, little wanton," Gordon encouraged. "Suck every drop of jism out of my cock! That's it, that's it! Ahhh ... ! I'm coming, little one!" Gordon thundered. "I'm coming!"
And he did.
Later, much later, April removed his softening cock from her mouth, looked up at him and asked, "Enough?"
Gordon wiped sweat from his face, nodded. "For a while."
April kissed the tip of his sagging cock and scrambled to her feet. She smacked her lips. "Know something? Semen always makes me thirsty. I could use something cold. How about you? Would you like a drink?"
"Please."
"How about something different?"
"Like what?"
A memory, long forgotten, came into mind and April was surprised to find herself suggesting, "How about a Wallbanger?" She frowned, shook her head. "On second thought, we'd better have something else; we don't have any Galliano. As a matter of fact, we're getting low on everything, including fire logs."
Gordon sighed wearily. "I'll drive into town before dark and replenish our supply, little minx."
"Replenish our supply of what-logs?"
Gordon grinned. "Booze. The way we generate heat when we get with it, who needs a fire?"
"True."
Gordon chuckled. "Now, about that drink. Make mine a Scotch and soda, will you?"
They drank.
April waited until Gordon finished his drink before she rubbed her tits against his arm and asked, "All right if I ride into the village with you, Daddy?"
Gordon thought it over quickly. Then he shook his head and said, "I'd rather you wouldn't, baby."
A puzzled expression crawled across her face and some of the same emotion found its way into her voice. "What's with the put-off, my long-cocked lover? You offered to take me there yesterday."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
Gordon looked at her with one of those pitying smiles men always gave women whenever they asked stupid questions. "Before I discovered there was someone in Wolfsville ... looking for you."
"Looking for me?"
"That is correct."
April felt her blood speed up. "That's good! Now maybe I'll be able to find out who I am."
Gordon filled his lungs with air and said quietly, "You won't find out, little one. Not from him."
April's eyes narrowed. "Him?"
Gordon nodded.
April looked and sounded confused. "Who the hell is him?"
Gordon's expressive lips stretched in a thin line of anger. "A pimp named Peter Gibson."
"Pimp?" April gave a short bitter laugh. "Why would a pimp be looking for me, lover? Who am I?"
"April."
April was silent for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was thick with sarcasm. "April, like from the month of?"
Gordon smiled sheepishly. "You don't believe that any more?"
April made a sour face. "No. I know my apples. I also know that you've been holding out on me." She paused to wet her lips. "You say you love and want to help me, so let's start proving both by throwing your cards on the table, okay?"
Gordon arranged his face solemnly. "All right, little wanton. Ask away."
"It's about time. First question. Who am I?"
"April."
She scowled darkly. "April what?"
Gordon exhaled loudly. "April with a question mark at the other end of it. I don't know your last name."
April's eyes bored into his; her voice lashed at him like a whip. "But you do know where I'm from, don't you?"
Gordon squirmed with sudden discomfort. His face reddened; his glance slid away from hers. "Yes."
April hurled her next question at him like a rock. "Where?"
Gordon's eyes returned to meet and lock with hers. He sounded embarrassed. "April ... "
April jumped up from the sofa and whirled to face him, a small-sized bundle of fury. She stood before him, feet apart, hands on hips and hissed angrily, "Damn you, where am I from?"
Gordon cringed under her vocal attack for the space of a few pulse beats and then relaxed, his breath escaping in a raw hiss as he said, "Willsburg."
April remained angry. "What the hell is a Willsburg?"
Gordon leaned back against the sofa cushions. "It's a small town not far from here. My practice is there. That's where I really found you."
Willsburg? The name of the town didn't ring a bell, but April kept pressing, now without anger. "How did you find me? Walking the streets with amnesia?"
Gordon shook his head. "You were working for a woman named Lena Black when I found you."
Willsburg. Lena Black. The name of the town, the name of the woman; neither were familiar to April.
"Working as what?" April asked.
"As a joy girl."
"Come again?"
Gordon laughed, a bit uneasily. "All right, you were toiling as a whore for Lena Black."
There was a brief interlude of silence, glassy in quality and then April broke and shattered it into a thousand pieces by saying, "I'm not surprised. Considering the games I've been playing so expertly with you and Pop Westrum, I knew I had to have learned them somewhere." She smiled sourly. "I must have been a good whore." She paused, chewed her lower lip for a moment, then asked, "How long was I there?"
"In Willsburg?"
"In this whorehouse."
Gordon's naked shoulders twitched in a shrug. "If you can believe Lena Black, no more than a week."
"And before that?"
Gordon shook his head in annoyance. "I don't know, little one. I asked around today, but nobody could say. Not for certain."
April pounced. "Asked around where? In Tyrone?"
Gordon smiled sheepishly. "I lied to you about that, April. I didn't go to Tyrone. I went to Willsburg, to see if I could learn something that might help you to find yourself. A wasted trip. Beyond last week, nobody knows you. Not even the other girls at Lena Black's."
April frowned thoughtfully. "What about this Gibson character? He must know me."
Gordon nodded. "I'm sure of it. According to the girls at Lena's, he's the one who brought you to the house, but God only knows from where."
"Couldn't we ask him?"
Gordon sighed wearily. "It wouldn't do any good, little wanton. Not after what you did to the left side of his handsome face with the same type of weapon you attempted to use on me earlier." His eyes probed the depths of hers. "Do you remember anything of that particular incident?"
April looked away, shook her head. "No. I can't seem to recall a damn thing beyond waking up in this passion pad of yours. Which brings up an interesting question. You say you found and brought me here. Where did you find me?"
"At Lena Black's. On the floor."
"Keep talking."
Gordon licked his lips. "Peter Gibson cold-cocked you after you slashed his cheek. When I arrived on the scene, you were unconscious. There was a table near where you were crumpled. The bruise on your temple suggests that you struck your head on the edge of it when you fell, which probably resulted in your amnesia." He stopped talking.
April digested this bit of information, then asked, "How did I get away from that cathouse?"
"I helped you."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't think you belonged there. And before you think I did something heroic, like breaking up the furniture so I could carry your sweet pussy off into the sunset, let me assure you I did nothing of the sort." He smiled wryly. "When it comes to courage, I'm a real Colonel Sanders' special. I simply told Lena Black that you had to be taken to the hospital and she reluctantly permitted me to take you. Ten minutes later I phoned and informed her that you'd escaped en route." He snorted disgustedly. "Until I discovered that Peter Gibson was in Wolfsville, I thought Lena and he had bought the story I paid a friend of mine in Willsburg to tell them-that he'd seen you board a bus for Cleveland." He watched her closely. "Now do you understand why I'd rather you wouldn't ride into the village with me?"
April nodded and sat down beside him on the sofa. A smile curved her lips. "The message is loud and clear, darling. You're protecting me from a pimp with a mad-on, for which I'm grateful as hell, but how long can you do it?"
Gordon's voice turned gruff. "Let me worry about that, little minx."
"All right, but suppose he finds his way out to this place?"
"He won't. Outside of Pop Westrum, nobody in the village knows we're here and Pop won't talk. Trust me, April."
April dropped a hand to Gordon's warm thigh and gave it a quick hug with her fingers. "I trust you, lover. I have to keep the faith. You're the only game in town where I'm concerned. And speaking of town, how long will you be there this time before you decide to come back?"
"Long enough to hit the liquor store and get Pop to keep an eye on Peter Gibson, until the bastard decides to go back to Willsburg."
April frowned. This peculiar bond between Gordon and Pop Westrum was starting to bug her again. One minute the two men were at each other's throats and the next minute Gordon was acting as if nothing had happened between them.
As though reading her mind, Gordon said quietly, "Don't let it throw you, April. My friendship with Pop goes back farther than I care to remember. So do the scraps. But he is a friend."
"If you say so." She stopped frowning and glanced toward the window. It was past noon. The sun was beginning to dip downward. "I think you'd better get dressed and hit the road, lover. I'd like to have you come back before dark." She shivered. "The mere thought of greeting the night by myself makes me feel creepy all over."
"It's still early," Gordon said slyly. "There's time."
She sensed his sudden change of mood, but pretended she hadn't. "Time for what?"
He took her hand from his thigh and placed it on his hardening cock. "Time for you to let me massage you with this cock of mine."
"All right, lover, start massaging."
Gordon shook his head. "Not here. Let's hit the deck."
They sank to the floor as one. Gordon wasted no time. Neither did April. Her legs drifted apart and he knelt between them. She came alive with passion the instant his cockhead made contact with her pussy fur and then sunk into her cunt.
"More," she said, "give me more."
Gordon gripped her hips and rammed his prick into her pussy, all the way, until she felt his balls bang against her.
"How's this?" Gordon asked.
April made no answer. She couldn't. Agony and flames scorched her soul, tongues of red fire licked her into burning rapture, crawled inside her skull, while Gordon's colossal cock sawed in and out of her cunt ... driving her farther and farther into the raging inferno ... tearing great sighs out of her ... triggering shudders as she raced towards the soothing darkness of orgasm.
"Go, lover!" she shrilled. "Make like a cowboy! Ride me, fuck me, make me come! Faster, faster! Wheee ... !"
Gordon's fingernails chewed into April's grinding hips as he worked to get a climax of his own. His throbbing erection turned into a battering ram. He snaked it in and out of her moistening muff and with each savage inward thrust his face became wetter and more twisted with passion.
April worked with him. She panted with delight and now her hips went berserk. She pushed her breasts against his chest and wrapped her legs around him. She knew how to fuck. She wriggled her ass and met him thrust for thrust, taking the length of his shaft into her cunt with all the fury of a suction pump, milking it with the lips of her cunt with all the expertness of a hundred-dollar prostitute ... making Gordon's stomach muscles quiver and breath jump out of his throat as she bucked and fucked him ... until the agony in his groin turned into a spurting release that jolted her into an orgasm of her own ...
Afterwards they lay silent in each other's arms, cooling and heating each other at the same time. The room was heavy with silence, cigarette smoke, perfume ... and the musk from their sweaty bodies.
Gordon was the first to break away. He flipped his cigarette toward the fireplace and sat up beside April. He smiled a twisted smile and said quietly, "You certainly know how to wear a man out, little minx. Right now I feel about as useless as a bartender with weak kidneys." He stood up, sighed loudly. "I wish I could grab an hour's sleep."
"Go ahead."
Gordon retrieved his pants, removed a handkerchief from a back pocket and proceeded to wipe his cock before he said, "I'll rest when I get back from the village. But while I'm gone, why don't you favor yourself with a nap? I'll try to make it there and back in two hours."
April handed him his shirt, grimaced. "Cripes, how damn far is Wolfsville from here?"
"Roughly twelve miles ... each way." He slipped into his shirt, buttoned it, grinned at her. "I'll be back before you realize it."
April felt the chill of depression returning and attempted to conceal it from Gordon by saying lightly, "Have fun, but try to keep your fly zipped and your cock out of that other woman's pussy until you do get back, eh?"'
Gordon blinked. "What other woman?"
"The one I tasted on your dick when I sucked you off a while ago. Who was she, lover?"
Gordon frowned. "I wouldn't know. I haven't been near another woman since you came along, little one."
Instinct told April that Gordon was lying. This same instinct warned her to not press the subject and she didn't. She made her bare breasts bounce with a shrug and said, "The tastebuds of my imagination must be screwed up, too. Sorry."
Gordon's brow smoothed out. "That's my little wanton." He gave her a playful but stinging slap on the hip. "Do us both a favor and try to relax until I get back, eh?"
April manufactured a weary smile. "I'll try." She pushed him gently toward the front door and hissed, "Hit the road, funky physician. Now."
Gordon treated her to an obscene wink and sailed out the door.
April crossed over to the dust-filmed window and watched him drive off in his Lincoln. Then she stretched out on the sofa and drifted off to sleep.
April moaned in her sleep as the door behind which her past was hiding opened a little. Through the crack, April saw the girl on the swing ... staring in wide-eyed horror, her mouth stretched in a cruel O as though she were screaming. For a moment there was no sound and then there was. It broke clear of the girl's throat and threatened to perforate April's eardrums. April shivered. The scream dissolved into a quiet sobbing and now a beam of pale light touched and brought the girl's horror-twisted face into full view for the first time. Another shudder convulsed April ... for the girl on the swing was ... herself!
April screamed.
She sat up on the sofa as though jerked into this position by an invisible string, her naked breasts drenched with sweat, their pink nipples turgid. She knew instinctively that her own voice had awakened her and as she glanced toward the window to discover that it was still daylight, she exhaled loudly and said aloud, "A little girl on a swing who looks like me ... I must be going insane."
A voice spoke up behind her. "The only place you're going is across my knees, naughty little girl."
April jumped to her feet and found Pop Westrum grinning at her. Relief flooded through her. The way her emotions were walking the wire, she would have welcomed the devil himself. She smiled at the man and said, "I thought you cut out for Wolfsville?"
Pop made a derisive sound. "Nobody's going to chase this man very far away from that pretty little tail of yours, sweetie. I waited in the orchard until I saw Doc shag ass ... and here I am."
April glanced at the battery-powered wall clock, then back to Pop again. She frowned at him, asked, "What took you so long to get here, Mr. De Sade? Gordon left for the village over an hour ago."
Pop grinned sheepishly. "That last session I had with you sort of tuckered me out, so I decided to take a snooze before I came back to finish doing my thing."
"What thing?"
"You know."
"Tell me."
Pop wiped sweaty palms on his pant legs. "All right. I came back to spank your cute little ass."
April feigned shock. Then she snapped her fingers. "Just like that, eh?" A laugh cleared her throat; her voice turned mocking. "No way, old prick."
Pop flushed and started to lose his temper, which was precisely what April wanted the old coot to do. She wasn't afraid of the spanking he would eventually give her. Actually, she was looking forward to it. But she didn't want him to whack her backside without anger. Why was this? She didn't know. Or care. Perhaps it was the nightmare and her dread of being left alone to welcome another night again, but something was begging her to roll out the welcome mat for this old man.
Something? April winced inwardly. No, not something. One thing. The emotion called passion.
She lowered her head to conceal the glitter in her eyes, because she felt desire becoming a steady blaze within her seemingly insatiable loins, the same heat scorching and causing her breasts to quake and harden at their rose-colored tips. She knew what was happening. Pop Westrum was turning her on ... again. Cripes, was he ever turning her on!
Pop broke into her thoughts by asking, "You want me to leave?"
"If I answered yes, would you?"
He made no answer.
April said, "Stay, Pop."
"Thanks."
April kept him at arm's length by asking, "Can I fix you something to drink?"
Pop shook his head vigorously. "Later. After I burn your pretty asscheeks with my hand."
April's voice turned teasing. "Think you're man enough to do the job?"
His lips tightened at their corners. "Damn right!" He paused, squinted at her, added slyly, "Providing you don't go off your rocker and try to kill me again ... the way you tried after I worked your tail over the last time." He shivered. "I sure as hell wouldn't want to go through that routine again."
April trilled a laugh. "You're safe. I'm not going to get violent, but I am going to make you hustle like a hound in heat for a crack at my fanny."
"I'm willing," Pop rasped as he stepped toward her to start grabbing. "Just don't make me work too hard. I tire easily."
Pop tried to fondle her naked breasts, but she pushed his reaching hands aside and backed away from him until her shoulder blades made contact with the log wall. A heartbeat later Pop trapped her in his arms. April attempted to pull away; his arms tightened around her. Without awareness, she lifted a knee and tried to bury it in his balls. Pop took the knee on his thigh, stepped back and growled, "Thought you weren't going to go berserk on me, you naughty little slut."
April smiled wickedly and tried for his groin again, this time with her foot. Pop took another step to the rear, then lurched forward. His hands chopped down and caught her across the breasts. April grunted in agony and reeled away, holding herself.
Pop caught her in his arms once more. April struggled, feeling the pain in her heaving breasts, simultaneously enjoying this strange game as she became conscious of more heat creeping into her loins, all the while screeching at the top of her voice, "Turn me loose, you prehistoric son of a sadist!"
"No."
"Turn me loose!"
"Fuck you."
"Bastard, I'll scratch your eyes out!"
Pop laughed harshly and shoved her towards the sofa. April landed in a sitting position. She started to scramble erect but before she could, Pop dropped down beside her and trapped her in his arms again.
Defiance drained out of April with startling abruptness and a clock tick later she sat trembling like a leaf. The hot and ardent hands of the old man seemed to be everywhere on her naked body. Hips, buttocks, thighs, pussy, throat and face-all parts of her body recoiled with delight under the onslaught of his fingers. His hands crawled. Now he was cupping her left breast, hammocking it like a bra of flesh, lifting the globe so that he could dip his head and devour its swollen and tingling nipple.
April gritted her teeth as another shock wave of pain ripped through her system the instant Pop found and bit down on her jutting nipple, then opened her mouth and shrieked, "Turn me loose, you Neanderthal!" She jerked her breast clear of his hurting teeth. "Turn me loose!"
Pop didn't. He shifted on the sofa and draped April across his thighs. Her body began to twitch. She was like a tormented snake writhing and twisting to escape and then yelping like a raped bitch puppy as Pop whacked her resoundingly across the ass. Once, twice, three times.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!" April screeched. "That smarts! My tail feels as though it's on fire! No more, no more!"
Pop laughed without humor and smacked her across the asscheeks again, again and yet again, trying to draw her into the circle of pleasure, succeeding.
April came alive with passion and panted, "It's happening! Your hand is turning me on, you pervert!" She felt his hand pause for a rest upon her stinging flesh, shivered. "Don't stop now, you cruel creep! Oh, please don't stop! Turn me on some more! Harder, you sadistic son of a bitch, slap me harder!"
Smack!
"Like this?"
"Harder!"
Whack!
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
Crack!
"Oooh, that hurts so good! So damn, damn good! It's making me want to cream! It's going to make me cream! Spank me! Spank me into a juicy come! Go, brute, go!"
Pleasure was a sickness that racked April's tormented body as Pop Westrum's hand drove her at breakneck speed toward the high, wet and slippery edge of orgasm ...
"I'm almost ready to come, you goddamn spank freak!" April shouted at the top of her lust-edged voice. "Hit me again! Again! Harder! I'm nearly home! My chime is about to ring! One more time should do the trick! Ah, spank me again! Make it a good one! Clobber my ass real good! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Ahhhhhh ... !"
April exploded with climax.
Pop waited until April stopped shuddering. Then he forced her to a kneeling position between his gaping legs and rasped, "You got your jollies and now I want mine, naughty little slut." He unzipped his fly and hauled out his miniature but firm cock. "Start sucking me off. Now, bitch, now!"
April responded mechanically. She sucked his drooling dong into her mouth and proceeded to blow him.
"Ah," Pop sighed as his leg muscles began to twitch, "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
And he did.
April devoured his jism with loud gulps. Then his ejaculation ceased and his cock began to soften rapidly. She spat it from her mouth, looked up at him, smacked her lips and said, "You haven't got much of a bone, but it's certainly loaded with marrow."
"Did you enjoy blowing me?"
"Mmmmmmm."
Pop chuckled. "And did you also enjoy the ass walloping I gave you before that?"
"Very much so."
Pop eyed her speculatively for a long moment before he asked, "Would you like another dusting?"
April shook her head. "I'd rather do something else."
"Like what?"
April scrambled out from between his legs and joined him on the sofa before she said, "I'd like to get to know you and Gordon a little better. Let's drink, talk and later we can lust it up some more. How does that grab you?"
Pop shook his head. "Not so good, kid." He jerked a thumb towards the window. "It's going to turn dark in another hour and I've got to reach Wolfsville before it does."
"Why?"
"My truck hasn't got any headlights."
"You're putting me on."
Pop made no answer.
April didn't want the old man to leave, but she couldn't talk him into staying until Gordon Archer's return and so said pleadingly, "Then take me into the village with you."
"That won't be necessary," Pop said in a relieved manner as he jumped to his feet and hastily crammed his tiny tally-whacker back inside his pants. "Doc's car just appeared on the road, at the other end of the meadow. He'll be with you in about three minutes. See him?"
April bounced erect and scooted over to the dusty window. Her spirits soared on wings of happiness. Now she could stop dreading the coming of darkness.
Gordon was back!
CHAPTER SEVEN
Pop Westrum avoided another confrontation with Gordon Archer by slipping out via the kitchen door, while April scurried into the bathroom to take a sixty-second shower and a finger douche that made her feel hot and eager all over. She emerged wrapped in a rainbow-colored beach towel to find Gordon stacking the back bar with bottles of liquor he was removing from a huge cardboard box that had once contained cartons of a popular brand of sanitary napkins.
"Ah, there you are, little minx," Gordon said, his expression softening at the sight of her. He caressed her with his eyes for a few seconds, smacked his lips. "You look both ravishing and refreshing. Did you nap?"
"I just woke up a few minutes before you arrived," April lied. She stifled a yawn, then asked, "Is everything all right in town?"
"It is."
"Peter Gibson?"
"Gone."
April watched him closely. "Then it will be all right for me to visit Wolfsville, won't it?"
"Certainly."
"When will you take me there?"
Gordon chewed his lower lip for a moment. "Tomorrow soon enough to suit you?"
"Beautiful!"
Gordon's hot eyes caressed her. "So are you, baby."
April saw the animal hunger in Gordon's smoke-gray eyes and swallowed hard. The medicine man was getting horny again. She winced inwardly. Cripes, didn't that overactive libido of his ever take a coffee break?
April wished to hell it would take one now. She didn't feel like playing sexual footsies at the moment. Sucking, getting sucked, fucking like a mink had turned into a constant thing since her awakening at this remote lodge. If it wasn't Pop Westrum, it was Gordon. She was becoming saturated with their fluids. What she needed was some food and rest. She got neither.
Gordon cut into her thoughts by saying, "Why don't you slip out of that sarong and make yourself comfortable, little pigeon?"
April stuck her tongue out at him. "No way, hymen plucker. I haven't eaten anything all day, except your cock and dieting doesn't seem to be my bag. Are you hungry?"
Gordon stepped out from behind the bar to show her his erection; it was straining to break free of his pants.
"I'm famished," he said on the heel of a harsh laugh, "but I'll have to risk starvation until I soften this big muscle of mine. A matter of etiquette, April. It isn't considered proper to sit at the table with a hardon."
April stared at the prominent bulge in his crotch and weariness faded. Heat proceeded to creep into her loins. The heat of desire ...
Gordon seemed to sense her abrupt change of mood, from disinterest to interest and now his voice turned coaxing as he said, "The towel, little wanton. Remove that obscene beach towel and show me your lovely body."
April obeyed without hesitation. The rainbow-colored beach towel dropped to the floor and she stood naked before him, breasts dancing with excitement as she waited for his next command.
Gordon did a fast strip of his own, then said, "Sit down on the sofa, April."
She blinked. "Sit?"
Gordon nodded.
April shrugged and lowered her shapely ass to the sofa.
Gordon said, "Spread your legs and show me your juicy cunt."
April did.
The sight of her hairy pussy fascinated Gordon. He smacked his lips and said, "I'm going to eat you up, little minx, but not just yet. First things first." He finished undressing and walked up to her, his cockhead nodding as though in complete agreement as he stopped in front of April and croaked, "I think I would like to have you blow me."
April stared at his quivering erection and frowned. Earlier today she had accused Gordon of using his cock on another woman and he had flatly denied it. Tasting another woman's fluid on a man's shaft and then chalking it up to confused tastebuds was one thing, but seeing the evidence of another woman with her eyes was something else. Denial this time would be impossible. She was looking at the proof; a shade of lipstick different from hers, almost purplish in color, faintly smeared over the swollen knob of his cock.
She started to question him about this other woman he was seeing, changed her mind. She told herself that what Gordon did away from her was his business, but in the same breath of thought she couldn't help feeling a bit jealous ...
Gordon broke into her reverie. "Staring at it won't make me come, April. Do me."
April laughed softly. Then she caught Gordon's pulsating prick with both hands, crammed the tip of it into her mouth and began to suck. She paused several times to catch her breath and now she was only holding his slippery shaft with one hand.
"Play with me," Gordon rasped as he gripped the back of her skull and forced more of his meat into her mouth. "Tickle my balls while you blow me ... " His voice trailed off for a moment and then came back strong. "Ah, yes, like that. Your fingers feel wonderful. Scratch me a little. Excellent, excellent! Tickling and scratching always makes me come quickly. Go, April, go!"
April wanted and tried for a release of her own. While her left hand massaged and clawed at his scrotum, she put her right hand to work on herself. She touched her pussy fur, then slid the tips of her fingers down to her itching cleft. Vaguely, she remembered that somewhere in the past she had occasionally applied friction to her clitoral spire for relief, but this time she went directly to the source of her sexual torment. She buried a finger between the wet lips of her pussy and proceeded to masturbate herself while she sucked greedily on the big cock that filled her mouth.
"You're doing fine," Gordon encouraged as he gripped her delicate ears and sawed his cock in and out of her mouth. "Lick me with your tongue, rake me with your teeth ... beautiful ... It won't be long now, little April ... a few more sucks and I'm going to come in your pretty mouth."
It would be less than a few sucks, April decided as she removed her finger from her cunt and concentrated on making him bomb. Gordon was standing on the brink of eruption. She could feel him stiffening, his balls jerking as he thrust the entire length of his cock into her mouth.
"Tighten your lips, April," Gordon panted. "I'm ready to pop and I don't want you to lose a single drop of my semen."
April's lips tensed around his cock. She gave his prick a vicious suck and waited for Gordon to break his string. He did.
Gordon gripped the back of April's head with both hands and rasped, "Here it comes ... love milk ... just for you!"
April swallowed and kept swallowing, until his juices stopped flowing. Then she removed his cock from her mouth and rested her head against his hairy thigh. Gordon's softening cock swayed before her eyes and as she watched it a stray droplet dropped from the knob and splashed against the slope of her left breast.
She giggled and said, "Your faucet is still leaking, dirty old doctor."
Gordon lifted her head away from his thigh and grinned at her. "I imagine you're doing some leaking of your own, little doll."
"A smidgin."
"Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we? Sit up. I'm going to stop the flow with my tongue."
April straightened, spread her legs to show Gordon the wet, pink lips of her pussy framed in a halo of blonde curls. She laughed and said, "Do your thing, lover. Lap me."
Gordon dropped to his knees, draped one of April's legs over each shoulder, then quickly pasted his mouth to the moist, sweet lips of her cunt. He sucked at her pussylips for the space of a few heartbeats and then he stiffened his tongue and bolted it deep into her cavern of delight.
April grunted, shuddered, shrilled, "Here I come! And I do mean come!"
Gordon attacked her pussy with all the gusto of a hungry cannibal diving into a bowl of missionary soup. His tongue bored, crooked, licked, writhed and slammed against the walls of April's cavern. Simultaneously, his fingers found and trapped her jutting clitoris, sending icy shivers of delight up and down her spine, shrinking the world around her into insignificance so that nothing mattered except the glorious tongue that filled her.
Hips churned, legs tightened around Gordon's neck and her voice lifted to chant, "Lick me, slurp me, devour and destroy me with that long tongue of yours!"
Gordon tried.
"Eureka!" April exclaimed as she coiled her legs tightly around Gordon's neck and locked his long tongue deep within her melting cunt. "Here I come, here I come!"
And a whisper later her fountain began to flow ...
Gordon finished licking her split, wiped his mouth on her pubic napkin and stood up ... with another erection.
"One more time," Gordon said. "I want you to soften me one more time."
April's pink tongue raced around her sensuous lips in a moistening gesture. "With my mouth?"
Gordon's head wobbled from side to side. "With your pussy."
April was all for it. She slid from the sofa and stretched out on the floor, eyes on his cock. It was stiff as a chair leg and as hard as one. A smile curved her lips as she watched Gordon skin himself back to expose his cockhead and once again she marveled at his fantastic virility. Fantastic? She grimaced. To take her so often bordered on the abnormal. Satyriasis? A mental nod. It had to be ...
"Ready?" Gordon asked.
April smiled impudently. "Ready and willing."
"Then open your lovely legs wider," Gordon instructed as he dropped to his knees between them, holding his cock with both hands as he guided it toward the pink lips of her pussy. "The syringe is ready for injection."
April spread her legs wider, laughed. "It will probably be a one-way injection, lover. Honestly, I don't think I have enough fluid left in me to come again."
"You'll come," Gordon promised. "I'll make you come. I know how. I'll fuck you and hold back my own ejaculation until you get ready to climax with me."
"This I gotta see."
"You will."
"Ha!"
Smiling malevolently, Gordon nuzzled his cockhead against the wet lips of her quim for a moment, then gripped her unmoving hips and with a single thrust that could only be termed as brutal, rammed his meat into her.
April grunted at the moment of impalement, then stiffened beneath Gordon and hissed, "Damn you, sadistic sawbones, that hurts!"
"Sorry."
"You certainly are!"
Gordon chuckled. Then he gripped her buttocks with both hands and started pouring the prod to her. He pumped away with piston-like precision, slowly at first and then his movements became more frenzied as the climax he wanted to prolong started to spin out of control.
A curse of disgust ripped past his twisted lips.
April sensed the inner struggle Gordon was having with himself. She didn't want him to struggle. She wanted to get this session over with ... so she could rest ... and get some food into her churning stomach.
Act like a whore to get his rocks off, she told herself. Fake it, fake it!
And she did. For the first time since her involvement with Gordon Archer, she simulated passion to get him off and away from her.
"Don't fight it," April panted, her hips churning to bring his climax to a head. "Stop holding back your load. I want your come. Give it to me!"
Gordon kept pumping, straining, holding, denying ...
"Damn you, damn you, give me your come!"
"Here," Gordon rasped as his sex gun went off with a spastic bang, "take it!"
April moaned and bucked like a wild mare as Gordon's semen gushed into her cunt ...
Gordon stopped squirting, finally. Exhaustion mirrored his sweaty face. He sagged on top of April, limp as a rag doll after a bath. His tongue licked half-heartedly at her perspiration-soaked breasts for a few seconds. Then he lifted his head and rolled clear of her. He sat up beside April with a weary sigh, grinned loosely and said. "Now I'm ready to eat."
April rolled over on her left hip, came up on one elbow, smiled at him and asked teasingly, "Eat what? Pussy?"
Gordon shook his head. "Food."
April bounced to her feet and grimaced as she felt his semen ooze out of her hole. Then she stopped grimacing and said, "It's about time you decided to eat something other than me!" She smiled again to take the sting out of her words. "Give me a few minutes to scrounge something from the frig."
Gordon rose. "That won't be necessary, April honey. I brought a box lunch from, the village. Chicken paprika, Hungarian style. I hope you'll like it."
April cocked an amused eyebrow at him. "Like it? Lover, I'm hungry enough to eat a horse and chase its jockey." She glanced around the room and smacked her slightly smudged lips. "Where the hell is this box of Hungarian goodies?"
"In the car. I'll get it."
"Save your breath for screwing and diving in my bush," April said as she bolted out into the early night, leaving a trail of happy laughter in her wake.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The fan on the dresser oscillated without making a sound. Neither did Gordon Archer. His breathing was shallow, inaudible and he slept without movement, like a damn log. April envied him and wished she could join him in slumber. It didn't happen. Sleep refused to come.
April sighed wearily and silently prayed for the dawn to arrive, to scrub away the black and crouching shadows with sunshine. A wasted prayer. The luminous hands on the travel clock at her bedside told her that the long night was only beginning.
Shit.
She lay next to her sleeping and fucked-out lover and wallowed in her own misery. Around them now everything was silent in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. Not only in the bedroom. Outside there was no sound, no moon and no trees whispering as they swayed gently under the light of a thousand stars. The muteness was eerie and made April shiver, her nipples stiffen, her blood chill. It was as though she and Gordon Archer were all alone in the world.
Alone.
One fucked-out man and one fucked-up girl.
Damn, damn, damn!
April couldn't sleep. The fear of nightmares kept her awake and tense. Nothing soothed. Not even the cool fingers of breeze coming from the fan on the dresser. The air fingers teased her naked flesh, her breasts, disturbed the silken hairs of her cunt, tickled her jutting clitoris, but they didn't soothe.
She couldn't stand it anymore. Moving quietly so she wouldn't awaken Gordon, she slipped out of bed and started prowling through the silent lodge. She moved down the narrow hallway and saw a thin sliver of light showing under the door of the den. She remembered leaving it on since ... yesterday?
April shrugged and entered the den. She started to turn off the lights, paused with her hand on the toggle switch to stare at the medical books. She stood like a statue of flesh, eyes large in their sockets, heart pounding against her rib cage like an angry fist. Her emotions ran amok. She stared at the books and journals, feeling repulsion and attraction, horror and enchantment and then feeling nothing. A moment later surprise masked her face. It was incredible and yet it was true ... her fear of the printed voices was gone!
She had to make sure the fear wouldn't return. Breasts heaving in rhythm to her ragged breathing, she crossed over to the library and removed a book from the nearest shelf. She held her breath, waited.
Suddenly afraid again, April tossed the book to the floor and ran into the living room ... to find Gordon mixing himself a drink. Sight of him had an immediate calming effect, but her voice still contained the trace of a tremor as she said, "Brew up another glass of nerve tonic, Dr. Jekyl. Make mine a strong one."
Gordon bobbed his head. "One spook chaser coming right up." He filled a steamboat glass with ice and poured straight whiskey over it, all the way to the brim. He nudged it into her waiting hand and said, "Try this on for size."
April drank. The liquor soothed. Calmness became complete. She exhaled loudly and said, "This medicine for melancholy is a real wonder drug. The goblins and ghosties and things that go bump in the night are gone."
"That's good." Gordon smiled tightly. "I'm glad they didn't make you run away from me. When I woke up and found you gone from the bed, I became worried. Where were you?"
"In the den. I couldn't sleep."
"Well, perhaps I can do something about your insomnia." He dropped into a crouch and vanished behind the bar for a few seconds. When he reappeared he was holding a red capsule April recognized as Seconal. He leaned across the bar, dropped it in her palm and said, "Wash this down with your liquor and in a few minutes you'll be ready to hit the feathers."
April hesitated.
"Take it, April honey."
April swallowed the capsule, chased it down with whiskey, then said, "Two of them would be better, lover."
Gordon shook his head. "One will have to suffice. I couldn't find any more in the medicine cabinet." He watched closely. "I don't have my black bag with me, remember?"
April smiled. "I remember. You left it at your office in Willsburg."
"I didn't leave it behind on purpose, April honey. I forgot the damned thing."
"Why don't we drive over there tomorrow and pick it up? I'd like to see your office."
"All right, I'll take you there tomorrow, but tonight I'm going to take you elsewhere."
"To bed?"
"Yes, but not to sleep. Not immediately." He stepped out from behind the bar. "I want some relief for myself before that damn pill catches up with you."
April stared at him without surprise. Gordon, constantly in heat, was burning for action again. His cock was hard and jutting and he was starting to pant like a fat dog on a hot day. Cripes, she thought, talk about an overactive libido!
And aloud she said, "Ready whenever you are, G. A., but can't we do our number without climbing into that creepy bed?"
"I'm open to suggestion."
April stopped staring at his massive erection. "Why don't we toss our last log on the fire and sex it up on the floor?" She paused, then added, "Please?"
Gordon nodded and crossed over to the fireplace. He gave April an over-the-shoulder smile and said, "Fix another pair of drinks while I get this damn fire started, will you?"
"Right on!"
The fire was built, the last log crackled like static in a cheap transistor radio. Drinks were mixed, passed, quaffed as they sat Indian fashion on the throw rug and silently watched pale-orange tongues of flame lick at the sooty walls inside the fireplace. A feeling of drowsiness crept over April. She stifled a yawn and said sleepily, "I think you'd better give me that massage while I can still enjoy it, old cunt-hound."
"There's a way to keep you awake until I blow my nuts," Gordon said as he stretched out on his back. "All I have to do is make you do the work. Go ahead, little one."
April misunderstood. She grasped his cock, dipped her head and started to take it in her mouth.
Gordon pushed her mouth away from his whang and said, "Not like that, April honey. Straddle me and sit down on my prick."
April stifled another yawn and mounted him. She sat on his thighs for a few seconds. Then she assumed a crouching position, like a girl about to urinate behind a clump of bushes, clutched his cock and tucked the knob of it between the moistening lips of her pussy.
"Now," Gordon rasped, "sit down on it."
April took a deep breath, held it, then sank down upon the pulsating cock. Sudden and strange electrical impulses coursed through every fiber of April's being, bringing her from mild lethargy into full wakefulness. She released her breath and sank all the way down on Gordon's cock, then panted, "I can't remember ever playing this game before, but I like it, I like it!"
Gordon spoke through clenched teeth. "Make me like it, too. Start bouncing up and down like a yo-yo, little minx. Move it! Bounce and grind! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!"
April needed no encouragement. The wet lips of her pussy tightened around the throbbing masculine muscle that filled her cavern and the wet lips milked as she proceeded to bob up and down over it. Making Gordon grunt like a pig. Hurting him each time she sat down on his swollen scrotum. Not giving a damn. Caring for nothing except her own release from torment via orgasm.
"Fuck, April, fuck!"
April fucked.
"That's the ticket," Gordon croaked as the agony in his groin turned into shock thrills of insane delight, "that's the ticket, little nymph! Keep going! Faster! Pound my prick into a bloody pulp! Wipe me out! Bounce, baby, bounce!"
April bounced. Up. Then down again. Hard. Cuntlips tight. Holding. Pulling. Releasing. Gripping again. Lifting Gordon. Lifting herself. Soaring toward the pinnacle of climax. Almost making it to the peak. Almost ... but not quite.
"I'm damn near there, little wanton!" Gordon groaned, his entire body now shaking with mounting passion. "Close. So goddamn close! Do your stuff. Bring me all the way! Work me, work me! Grind, bounce, crush, hurt! Make me come! Goddamn you, make me blow my nuts!"
April heard his obscene litany from a seemingly great distance and obeyed. She came up on her dimpled knees, hesitated, poised like a rattler about to strike and then she sat down on his cock with a thud. Gordon grunted, cursed, shuddered and a clock tick later she felt his hot sperm shooting upward like a geyser to meet and mingle with the juices of her own sweet release ...
"Jesus," Gordon said irreverently as April permitted his wilting worm to slip from her drooling hole and stretched out beside him, "a few times there I thought for sure you'd end up giving me a double hernia!"
April sat up beside him and laughed shakily. "Don't blame me. You're the one who kept yelling for pain to soothe your masochistic beast."
Gordon grimaced. "Quite so. The mistake was mine." He gargled a laugh. "Sore nuts or no sore nuts, I thoroughly enjoyed the wild fuck you just gave me."
"So did I."
"We'll have to do it in that position again."
April stifled a yawn and nodded sleepily. "I'm with you, lover, but not tonight."
"Why not?"
April stretched out on her back and smiled at him over the peaks of her breasts. "Because, Daddy, I think that little redbird I took a while ago is beginning to sneak up on me."
"That being the case, I think I'd better march your pretty ass off to bed."
April said dreamily, "If it's all right with you, I'd rather sleep right here on the floor. May I?"
"Certainly." He placed his big hands on her breasts and gently kneaded them. "I'll keep you company until you doze off."
April yawned. "I'd like that."
Gordon's hands continued to massage her breasts. He said slyly, "I know something else you might like, baby."
"What, Daddy?"
"My tongue in your pussy."
"Mmmmmmmm."
Gordon's voice reached her from a seemingly great distance. "Would you like me to put the tongue to your cunt until you drift off to sleep, little wanton?"
April closed her eyes and made no answer. She felt Gordon's hungry mouth on her breasts, sucking on her rose-colored nipples and then moving downward to her cunt. His tongue darted between the sensitive lips of her pussy and started prowling for a spark it could lick into a bright flame of passion.
April didn't respond. She was drained. Bushed. And becoming drowsier by the second.
Gordon was still lapping and sucking her sated cunt when April lost interest in what he was doing and drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
April awakened from a peaceful sleep to find sunlight crowding the room ... and silence. She lay motionless on the throw rug for a full minute, her naked breasts pointed toward the high and sooty ceiling, their coral nipples hard from the chill that filled the room. She listened to the silence without apprehension. Her mind was still sluggish from the liquor and the Seconal Gordon had given her last night and for the time being her mood was euphoric.
She lost momentary interest in the thick silence that crawled through the lodge and a dreamy smile curved her sensual red lips as she remembered the act of cunnilingus Gordon had performed upon her shortly before and probably long after she had drifted off to sleep. On the heel of this she recalled something else that puzzled her and caused the smile to fade from her mouth.
A deep frown wrinkled her brow as she watched her gently moving breasts and wondered if she had been hallucinating again. Lips tightened at their corners as she rolled her head from side to side on the rug. No way in hell. Not this time. She had seen what she had seen and nobody would ever be able to convince her otherwise.
Not even Gordon Archer.
Especially Gordon Archer.
A dream?
Imagination?
Like fuck!
April shattered the silence with a loud giggle as the scene unfolded in her mind ...
Sometime during the early and still dark hours of the morning she had awakened. Still in a semi-stupor from the booze and the Seconal, she had opened her eyes to find Gordon on the sofa ... huffing and puffing ... completely oblivious to her presence and everything else as he clutched his colossal cock with both hands and masturbated.
Now, thinking of what she had seen and knowing damn well she hadn't been dreaming, April was puzzled as to why Gordon had been playing with his prick. Why hadn't he awakened and softened his erection in her cunt, ass or mouth? This working himself off by hand-it didn't make sense. It wasn't normal.
Normal? April grimaced. Look who was talking about normal. She had taken cocks from Gordon and Pop Westrum in her pussy, asshole, mouth, between the breasts; she had even had her ass spanked.
She stopped thinking about it. Then she became aware of the silence once more. Was Gordon still asleep? It was time to find out and shake him out of the sheets. She preened herself like a cat. Then she sat up, looked toward the bedroom and called, "Is there an oversexed doctor in the house?"
No answer.
April scrambled to her feet and shivered as she stepped off the throw rug; the floor was colder than a bill collector's smile beneath her bare feet. Her frown returned as she retrieved the rainbow-colored beach towel from the arm of the sofa and wrapped it around her chilled body, then called again, "Gordon!"
Silence.
An alarm bell began to clang in her brain. She scooted into the bedroom ... and found it empty. She ran back into the living room and looked out the window. Eyes widened, skin crawled, guts knotted, her mind turned to ice. The Lincoln was among the missing.
April seethed inwardly. Her breasts bucked behind the beach towel that covered them, her nostrils flared. She felt cheated, betrayed. Gordon had promised her a trip to the village, a look at his office in Willsburg and then he had taken off without her.
He had lied to her again.
Why?
She found the answer to her question in the kitchen, tucked between the salt and pepper shakers on the cluttered table. Another hastily scrawled note from Gordon, informing her of his departure and promising a speedy return ... as soon as he satisfied himself that Peter Gibson had not doubled back to the village in search of her.
Cautious.
Gordon was being cautious.
His message ended with these barely legible words: "P.S. Keep your juicy cunt cool and your pretty legs crossed until I get back, little nymph."
The note was signed "Daddy".
Gordon's note acted as a tranquilizer. The heat of anger faded from April's blood. She became happy and suddenly ravenous, but not for leftover chicken paprika. Toast, scrambled eggs and coffee would hit the spot, April thought as she proceeded to clean the cluttered table. She packed chicken bones, soggy paper napkins and two empty booze bottles into a brown paper shopping bag, then carried it out to the garbage can. She was getting ready to step back into the kitchen when a glint of light attracted her attention. It came from the far end of the orchard, barely inside the timber. A reflection of sunlight against metal or glass, or both. April's eyes narrowed, her pulse quickened. Maybe Gordon was coming back!
April kept squinting. Nothing else showed for a few seconds and then she saw the reflection again. It was still barely inside the timber, moving to the left of the orchard road and then disappearing.
"Not Gordon," April muttered as she returned to the kitchen. "But definitely a vehicle ... going where? And why through the forest? Why not across the meadow? Cripes, someone is acting awful sneaky."
Sneaky? April laughed. Ten to one what she had just seen was Pop Westrum, looking for a place to stash his pickup so Gordon wouldn't spot the damn thing if he happened to come back before he finished doing whatever he was coming here to do with her.
Another fanny dusting? A fuck? April laughed again. Knowing that raunchy old fart the way she did, he would probably give her a taste of both.
The mere thought of what Pop Westrum would do to her made April quiver with delight. A moment later her nose wrinkled. She couldn't really do anything with the antiquated ass spanker. Not in her present unsanitary condition. Cripes, her quim probably smelled like an open tin of sardines from all of the semen Gordon had hosed into it. A quick rinse was in order before Pop arrived. Definitely.
She forgot about breakfast and sped into the bathroom. There was no hot water. The best she could get was lukewarm. Well, hell, lukewarm was better than cold. She peeled the beach towel from her body, stepped under the shower. The spray hit her breasts and caused her nipples to harden. She glanced down at her "dairies and said aloud, "Hot damn, here I go again!"
April lathered her ass, then her cunt, thighs and breasts. She kept waiting for Pop Westrum to stick his head inside the shower stall and yell, "Surprise!" but it didn't happen.
April's brow knitted in a frown. Where the hell was the old fart? He should have been here by this time.
She rinsed off by doing a slow pirouette under the lukewarm water, keeping her head clear to avoid getting her hair wet and momentarily she was standing in front of the door mirror, dripping all over the floor. She reached for the same beach towel she had been wearing, off and on, since yesterday and started to dry herself. A few seconds later she heard a familiar voice call, "April!"
Gordon's voice!
April wrapped the beach towel around herself and ran into the living room. One look at Gordon brought her to a sudden stop. He was standing in front of the bar, his face a mask of worry, the lines around his expressive mouth tight and drawn. April couldn't believe what she was seeing. Gordon Archer was running scared.
"My problem is the inability to remember," April said lightly as she moved behind the bar to mix a pair of drinks. "What's yours?"
"Nothing."
"Don't give me that crap. Something is spooking your ass. What?"
Gordon smiled sourly. "I think my conscience is beginning to catch up with me."
"That isn't likely."
"Why isn't it?"
"You don't have a conscience."
Gordon threw back his head and laughed.
"That's better," April said as she pushed a drink into his hand. "I don't enjoy seeing you with a long face; it reminds me too much of Pop Westrum."
Gordon's face clouded again. "Speaking of that old reprobate, have you seen him today?"
April thought about the vehicle she had seen sneaking along the edge of the forest, kept it to herself. "No. Didn't you bump into him in town?"
Gordon shook his head.
Her eyes glittered, mocking him. "Maybe he's ducking you on purpose, passionate physician."
Gordon's brow wrinkled in a puzzled frown. "Why would he do something like that?"
"Injured feelings, perhaps. You called him a revolting son of a bitch yesterday, remember?"
Gordon grinned. "I've called him that before, so if he's avoiding me deliberately, it's for another reason. Ah, well, to hell with Pop. Let us drink and enjoy this day."
"I have a better idea," April said. "Why don't we stay sober and take a ride to the village?"
Gordon shook his head again. "Just to be on the safe side, I think we should postpone that trip until tomorrow."
April gave him a twisted smile. "Know something? Sometimes, like now, I get the kinkiest feeling that you have no intention of ever taking me to Wolfsville."
Gordon took a long, shallow breath. "All I'm trying to do is protect you, little wanton."
"From this Gibson jerk?"
"Exactly."
April reached across the bar and patted Gordon on the cheek. "All right, lover, protect away."
Gordon's voice changed, softening. "I'm not about to protect you from myself. I'd much rather attack."
"Attack and I'll scream."
"For help?"
"For joy."
Gordon placed his half-finished drink on the bar and proceeded to unbutton his shirt. "One screaming session coming up."
April laughed and watched Gordon remove his shirt, toss it aside, then drop his pants. He knifed forward, stepping out of his slacks, then straightened and faced her. April's glance dropped to his colossal cock, searching for lipstick traces. She found none. Gordon's sausage was clean ... for a change.
"Now you," Gordon said as he fisted his erection with both hands and shook it at her. "Drop that sarong you're wearing and let me see that exquisite body of yours."
April moistened her lips. "Let's finish our drinks first."
Gordon smiled as though an invisible vise gripped his scrotum, shook his head. "The drinks can wait-I can't."
April decided to stop teasing him. She stepped out from behind the bar and purred, "All right, horny hemorrhoid remover, let's start calming you down. How do you want me this time?"
A small hiss of air blew between Gordon's teeth. "To begin with, naked."
April was beginning to get in the mood for lust. Heat was creeping into her loins; her breasts were starting to tingle at their awakening tips. She shivered and lifted both hands to where she had tucked the towel to hold it in place and then went into her teasing routine. She loosened the towel, held it in place over her dancing breasts, enjoying the sight of Gordon's flushed face as he waited for her to drop the material and reveal her womanly charms.
Seconds passed.
Gordon became impatient.
"Damn you for a teasing tart," he growled, "show me that hot little body of yours!"
April didn't. Not immediately. Still holding the beach towel in position, she shook her breasts at him and pumped her hips lewdly, thighs spread slightly to treat him to a tiny glimpse of her now moistening pussy.
"Ready for the unveiling?" she asked torridly.
"Ready. Do it."
April took a deep breath and released her grip. The rainbow-colored beach towel dropped to the floor and now she stood deliciously naked before Gordon.
Gordon's passion was clawing at his balls. Agony masked his face. He couldn't wait. He didn't want to wait. He walked up to her, still fisting his cock in both hands and said harshly, "Kneel, little minx."
April licked her lips and made like a meek pussycat. She sank to her knees before him, waited.
Gordon stopped holding himself and said, "I like your hands better. Grab my cock."
April hesitated.
"Grab my cock," Gordon repeated with mock anger. "Go, little nymph. Don't be afraid of my prick. It's not a snake. It won't bite you."
"If it does, I'll bite it back."
Gordon barked a laugh. "I don't give a shit what you do, but for chrissakes, do something!"
April hooked a slender finger around the base of his petrified prod and bent it toward her lips. Her mouth opened and she crammed the velvety knob of Gordon's cock into it. A second later strange things began to happen. The feel of his cockhead inside her mouth caused her senses to spin out of control. Now she wanted more of his pulsating instrument of pleasure. She had to have more. All of it. As much as she could get.
"Beautiful!" Gordon groaned as she took the entire length of his whang down her throat and compressed her lips to hold his nuggets against her chin for a second. "Simply beautiful!"
Gordon's passion-drenched voice came at April from a seemingly great distance. He was pleased. So was she. Taking his hard and juicy cock in her mouth was something she always enjoyed doing. His semen was out of sight. The more she sucked out of him, the more she wanted. His love cream was nectar. Pure nectar. Mmmmmmm.
"That's my good girl!" Gordon rasped as he took April by the ears and proceeded to saw his cock in and out of her mouth. "You're doing fine, angel lips. Lick, slurp, growl over this bone I'm feeding you. Blow, little minx, blow!"
April responded to his urging. Her lips tightened. Then milked. Her teeth nipped at his throbbing cock.
Gordon shuddered.
"Jesus," he said, awed, "I never thought I'd ever see the day when any lady would take this cock of mine down into her throat the way you do!" He released his grip on her ears and patted the back of her skull. "Special, you're really something special."
"Mmmmmm," April mumbled around the colossal cock that drooled in her mouth. "Mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm!"
"Keep sucking," Gordon panted. "It won't be long now before I give you my come. I'm on the verge of getting my jollies. A few more licks and sucks should do the trick. Keep working, little one. Swing on my limb." He gasped as April nipped him with her teeth, then said, "Swing, honey, swing!"
April swung. She loved the taste of his cock, the way it throbbed inside her mouth and she was even enjoying the touch of his hair each time his scrotum made contact with the point of her chin.
She wasn't alone in this orbit of ecstasy. Gordon was rocketing with her. He tightened his grip on the back of her skull and started to pump his hips. He crammed his whang down her throat, then jerked it back. He bucked, he tugged on her head and then he barked, "My balls! Put your hand on my balls and play with them so I can really get my jollies!"
April groped, found and scooped his nuggets into her left hand. She hugged, tickled, toyed, rolled them back and forth like marbles between her fingers.
"That did it!" Gordon shrieked as he brought her moving head to a standstill. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"
And he did.
Shock tremors of delight jarred April's cunt as his sperm hit the back of her mouth and for the next few wild moments she had to swallow hard and fast to keep ahead of the honey gushing from his cock.
"Devour me, little one. Eat every drop of my jism!"
April swallowed and kept swallowing, until there was no more ...
"Ummm," she purred as she permitted his softening sausage to slither out of her mouth. "Your love cream is delicious."
Gordon smiled loosely. "You didn't get it all."
"Oh?"
"You missed a drop."
"Where?"
"On my balls."
April giggled. "I think you're lying, perverted physician. I think you just want me to lick your nuts."
"I do. Mind?"
"No."
"Then start licking."
April's lips and tongue massaged Gordon's scrotum for a couple of minutes. By the time she finished, his cock was hard and ready for action once more.
"Now what?" she asked. "Another suck job?"
Gordon shook his head. "Ass. I want to fuck that tight little ass of yours."
"Whatever turns you on," April squealed as she stretched out on the floor and spread her legs. "Just so it does the same to me."
"It will," Gordon promised as he dropped to his knees between her thighs and draped a leg over each shoulder. "It will."
"Show me."
Gordon did. He clutched April's slightly moving hips and filled her asshole with his rigid cock.
April grunted. There was a brief stab of pain and then all she felt was pleasure. She removed her legs from his shoulders and coiled her arms around his neck. She mashed her mouth against his and pushed her tongue between his parted lips. She flicked the tip of her tongue against his uvula and then withdrew to tear her mouth away from his and shrill, "I'm starting to feel you, lecherous leech! Cripes, am I ever starting to feel you!" Her hips began to churn with frenzy over the monstrous male muscle that was ripping her emotions apart at the seams and her voice lifted another octave as she chanted, "Ream me, ream me, ream me!"
April's buttocks made slap-slap sounds as they bounced against the hardwood floor, her hips writhed and her midnight-black eyes brightened, then dimmed like a pair of headlights going on low beam as orgasm came nearer and nearer.
She was ready to pop. But not by herself.
Panting sounds filled the room as Gordon shifted his slippery shaft into high gear, for at this point he was flirting with a release of his own. He ignored the sweat that stung his eyes and kept hammering at April with his cock. Semen bubbled in his balls as he climbed out on the limb of lust. He wasn't out on the limb of lust by himself. April was out there with him, her flashing hips grinding faster and faster as she desperately tried to saw the limb out from under both of them ...
"Lover, lover," April panted, "I'm almost ready to come all over your cock!"
Gordon grunted. "Same ... here! Keep fucking!"
"Like this?"
"Faster. Wiggle that sweet ass of yours faster!"
"Like this?"
"Yes ... like ... that!"
They fucked and bucked with increased frenzy, to no avail.
"Don't come before I do!" April panted. "Oh, please don't blow your nuts before I do!"
"I won't, little minx, I won't," Gordon vowed as he continued to saw his cock in and out of her tight asshole. "I'll wait for you."
April's hot lips glided over his wet cheek again. Groping blindly for his mouth. Seeking. Finding. Bolting her pink tongue between his teeth. Jolting his tonsils and then the roof of his mouth with a wicked kiss that brought a desired reaction from Gordon.
Gordon went berserk with passion as the tip of April's tongue hit the roof of his mouth. Muscles tightened; perspiration leaked from his open pores like blood. His cock gored more savagely, his big hands left her twisting hips to grab and manipulate her jutting pink nipples with sadistic ferocity as he struggled to hold back the ejection of jism until April could climax with him.
April's quim was oozing, her body flaming. Eyes glazed. Blood bubbled in her veins. Nerves jumped. And breath bounced out of her in ragged blasts as she thrilled to the savage thrusts Gordon's cock was inflicting upon her anal passage.
"Fuck, April, fuck!"
April fucked.
Orgasm threatened and then made good its threat. April's dark eyes rolled back in their sockets until only the whites showed as she coiled her glistening legs around Gordon's flashing buttocks and screeched at the top of her lungs, "I'm going to cream my cunt, lover! No, not going to-I am creaming my cunt! Damn, damn, damn, it feels as if my soul is being ripped loose from its moorings!"
"Don't hold back, let it rip!"
"It has, it has!"
April detonated.
So did Gordon.
They climaxed simultaneously. Their juices flowed, mingled ...
What seemed like an eternity later April's black eyes stopped swimming in their sockets as reason returned, slowly. Breath hissed out of her as she focused in on Gordon and whispered torridly, "You've massaged my asshole a few times since we've been together, Daddy, but this ass fucking you just finished giving me was the best ever. Damn, when you punched the panic button and tripped my trigger, I damn near went all the way out of my bird!"
Gordon removed his softening prick from her asshole and grinned at her. "For me too, little minx."
April felt Gordon's jism trickling out of her asshole and shivered, then said, "I can see your big cock drooping, so if you're finished with your Greek attack on my ass, how about letting baby up so she can go to the John, Daddy?"
Gordon crawled out from between her legs with the speed of a crippled turtle. A grin twisted his lips as he locked glances with her and asked teasingly, "Bad kidneys?"
April sat up, naked breasts heaving and stuck her pink tongue out at him. "Kiss my ass, lover."
"Kiss your ass? I'd rather fuck it."
"You just did."
"Did what?"
"Fucked my ass." She made a face. "Man, the way you shoved your big fat cock to my asshole really ripped me up at the beginning. I'll probably have to wipe it with a powder puff for a week, at least."
Gordon cocked an amused eyebrow at her. "I thought you enjoyed the ass fucking I just gave you, baby?"
"I did."
Gordon smiled wickedly. "Then let me rest up for a minute or so and I'll fuck your pretty ass again."
"Like hell you will," April laughed as she bounced to her feet, gave him a stiff finger and scampered toward the bathroom. "My ass has had it for today."
The bathroom door was open. April ran inside, stepped into the puddle of water she had left behind from her last shower, lost her balance and struck her head against the edge of the sink as she fell to the floor in an unconscious heap ...
CHAPTER TEN
Pain gnawed at the edges of April's brain and for a while nothing made sense. A voice buzzed in her ears like a hive of mad hornets and rough hands felt her here and there, poking and probing until she wondered if the Inquisition had been reactivated for the sole purpose of making her die a slow and terrible death. Madness surrounded her, while the hot daggers of agony continued to stab and slice at her tormented flesh.
Her mind screamed, Stop hurting me, you sadistic son of a bitch! And the scream was heard.
Rough hands turned gentle and someone with a strangely familiar fuzzy voice asked, "Are you all right, baby?"
April heard but made no answer. She couldn't. Not yet. She lay there on the bathroom floor, drugged with confusion. A tug of war was going on inside her brain and both sides seemed to be winning. She made no effort to stop the senseless game.
Fuck it.
She relaxed.
Floated.
And kept floating.
But not for long.
The strangely familiar but still fuzzy voice asked again, "Are you all right, baby?"
April stopped floating through limbo and opened her eyes to find a worried face she recognized immediately, hovering over hers. Gordon Archer's face. Her breasts heaved as she blinked, gasped, blinked again and fought to control the uncertainty in her voice as she asked, "Where the hell am I?"
"On the bathroom floor."
"That isn't what I meant. I'm talking about this whole damned place. Where are we?"
Gordon Archer spoke with that tense control of someone desperate to avoid a hairy scene. "You still don't remember, baby?"
April opened her mouth and started to say, "Remember what, you oversexed son of a bitch?" A heartbeat later she checked her words and now her dark eyes resembled two windows in hell. And then there was a reaction to the fall she had taken. Skeletons started rattling their dry bones in the closet of her mind. Suddenly, deep within her brain, the memory key turned, unlocked and the closet door opened to release the rattling skeletons. Yesterday collided with today and for a wild moment she thought she would be sick, but then her stomach settled down and so did her voice as she locked glances with Gordon Archer and said, "I remember being bugged by your not carrying the black leather bag doctors usually carry all over hell with them, but I'm not bugged anymore."
His eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"
A faint chill darkened her eyes. "Psychiatrists don't need to carry the damned things."
Gordon's shoulders sagged a little. Breath hissed out of him like air from a slow-leaking tire in a quiet garage and then he asked quietly, "What else do you remember, little one?"
April's breasts trembled violently as she exhaled loudly, then said, "Almost everything."
A puzzled look crawled over his face. "Almost?"
Her eyes showed slanted lights. "There's a slight time gap I can't seem to account for, Dr. Archer." She frowned thoughtfully. "The last thing I recall before waking up here naked as the day I was born was tripping over something in your office ... after you tried to prove that determinism was something more than a theory that all human action is the result of innate urges although they may not be conscious ones ... by trying to put your cock to me."
Gordon said, "Hmmmmm."
April sat up suddenly, red lips parted, eyes glittering, her naked breasts tossing tumultuously as she hissed, "You finally made it, didn't you, Dr. Archer?"
He locked glances with her. "Made what?"
"Me, you cloven-hoofed bastard!"
A slow smile spread across his ruggedly handsome face. "That I did, sweet April."
"In what way?"
"In every way."
"You mean I sucked your cock?"
"You did."
"And took it in my cunt?"
"You did."
"Is my asshole hurting for the reason I think it's hurting?"
"It is."
"I'll be damned!"
He grinned. "Well, at least I didn't rape you, April. It wasn't necessary. A touch of visual amnesia brought your secret self bubbling to the surface."
April looked as confused as she sounded. "Secret self? What the hell are you talking about?"
Gordon treated her to a lopsided smile and said quietly, "The girl on the swing ... remember?"
April shook her head. Then she closed her eyes and momentarily she envisioned the girl, her tiny hands clutching ropes of smoke as she swung through the fairyland sky on the swing of indecision. Confusion dissolved. Truth hit her like a knee in the cunt. The girl on the swing was a symbol. The pendulum of her own emotions, moving from hot to cold, from dispassionate to passionate.
From queasy to bed to easy to bed.
Swinging.
Back and forth, back and forth.
And then, suddenly, freezing.
April opened her eyes and said quietly, "The damned pendulum just stopped swinging, Dr. Archer."
There was a genuine note of deep concern in Gordon's voice as he asked, "For better or for worse?"
April shrugged and made her breasts tremble. "My husband will have to be the final judge of that." She paused, frowned, then said, "Which reminds me ... why did you lie to me about Peter being a pimp?"
Embarrassment crawled across Gordon Archer's face. "You had this feeling of having killed someone, April."
"So?"
He sighed loudly. "So purely for selfish reasons I turned your husband into a pimp on the hunt because you scarred his face with a broken bottle."
April shook her head. "But I didn't do any such thing to Peter ... or to anyone else."
Gordon nodded wearily. "I know, little one. I lied to confuse you and then added to your bewilderment by assigning the role of whorehouse madam to your mother, Lena Black."
April's voice frosted. "God, I never thought you would turn out to be such a sorry prick with one of your patients."
"Nor did I, little April." A sad smile twisted his lips. "I'm sorry."
April grimaced. "You certainly are."
Gordon continued as though she hadn't spoken. "But about this strange feeling you had of having killed someone ... "
April broke in. "Never mind, Doctor. I've read enough books on psychology to recognize a guilt symbol when I see one. The only thing I was killing was my marriage to Peter Gibson. That's why I came to see you in the first place. I was hoping you would be able to help me with my problem."
"What problem?" Pop Westrum growled as he popped out of nowhere and joined them in the bathroom.
"Ah," April hissed, "here's the other liar."
Pop Westrum tried to look as innocent as a child playing in mud. "What's the kid talking about, Doc?"
Gordon Archer smiled sheepishly and grumbled, "You can stop pretending, you senile old son of a bitch. The game is over. Mrs. Gibson's memory has returned."
Pop remained unruffled. He glared at Gordon and said a bit irritably, "Told you it wouldn't last, Doc. Nothing does when you take charge. Telling this smart pussycat she was seventeen and then clobbering her with names of real people and places was a damn fool thing to do." He made a derisive sound. "Proves what I always said about you is the naked truth ... that you're a lousy shrink."
"Feeding this young lady straight lines had nothing to do with it, you son of a bitch," Gordon said without anger. "April slipped in some water and struck her head on the edge of the sink and that's what brought her memory back."
Pop Westrum frowned at the puddle of water on the floor and swore softly. "I take back the insult I just tossed your way, Doc. You didn't fuck up, for a change. April's memory coming back is my fault. As caretaker of this here dump I should have replaced that damned mat when I chucked the old one out."
April was unable to contain herself any longer. She laughed at the disgust that mirrored Pop Westrum's face, then said, "Replace it tomorrow, you old goat."
Pop stopped frowning and blinked at her in surprise. "Tomorrow? You mean I ain't fired as caretaker of this dump you and your husband use during the deer hunting season?"
"No," April said as she stood up, then reached inside the shower stall to turn on the faucets, "but if you aren't naked and ready to spank the daylights out of this twenty-one-year-old ass of mine by the time I finish taking a shower and a douche ... you will be."
Pop chuckled and started undressing.
"As for you," April told Gordon Archer as she reached out and treated his hardening prick to a quick hug with her slender fingers, "keep this big thermometer of yours handy-I do believe my temperature is starting to rise again."
Gordon bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. "Want me to take it out now, little minx?"
April released her grip on his now petrified cock, shook her head. "Not until I make myself clean for you and Pop." She backed toward the shower stall, breasts dancing. "Be right back."
Gordon winked and shook his prick at her.
April laughed and stepped under the shower. This time the lukewarm water didn't bother her. She soaped her pubic beard, then stopped to listen as she heard Pop Westrum drawl, "I know you ain't a blabbermouth where your couch customers are concerned, but would you mind breaking a confidence between doctor and patient just this once, long enough to tell me something?"
Gordon Archer made a sour face. "I think I can anticipate your question, but ask away, Pop."
Pop stared at Gordon, a puzzled expression on his time-wrinkled face as he asked, "What in the fucking hell were you treating April for anyhow?"
Gordon drew back for an instant, bristling. "None of your goddamned business, you nosy prick."
"Aw, come on, Doc."
"Kiss my ass."
"Don't be like that, Doc. You know you can trust me to keep my yap shut." His voice turned wheedling. "Come on, fill me in before I bust a gut wonderin' about it."
"Get fucked."
"Doc."
"Go to hell."
April fought like mad to keep a straight face as she popped her head out of the shower and said, "Go ahead, lover. Tell the old reprobate what he wants to know."
"Yeah, Doc," Pop said, "lay it on me. What the hell were you treatin' our girl for anyhow?"
"An ailment normally associated with whores, old maids, sexual cowards and intellectual medical secretaries like April," Gordon said solemnly. "An inhibited libido."
Pop Westrum grimaced as though he had just received a vicious kick in the balls from an invisible foot, then growled, "Goddamn your educated hide, Doc, talk English!"
April giggled. "Tell him, lover."
"Yeah, Doc," Pop said in a whining voice that brought another giggle from April, "tell me."
"Frigidity," April said as she stepped out of the shower stall with bouncing tits and led both men into the bedroom by their rock-hard cocks. "Gordon was treating me for frigidity."
Pop Westrum blinked at the honey-haired girl who was holding a stiff cock in each dainty hand. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
