"Secret Climax" has had a very unusual publishing history. Written by an American "Avant Garde" writer after a long residence in Paris, it grew out of his observation of certain different and fascinating aspects of the French underworld. The French Surete promptly seized copies of the book upon its publication, citing the characters, situations and blunt language, especially sexual references as against the "interest of the public morality." However, due to the genuine literary merit of the book and the valid psychosexual observations of the author, copies survived the seizure and made their literary mark.
Some of the frankest scenes of "Secret Climax" are descriptive of sexual and psychological situations merely glossed over in the average novel of this type. Some interesting questions concerning the dynamic impetus of so-called normal sexual love, as opposed to perverted practices are raised in the course of the narrative. The psychological implications of the perverted attachment a gunman may have for his gun and its sexual symbolism are of great interest to those readers interested in probing beneath the surface of this fast-paced narrative.
Strong similarities in style to Marcus Van Heller, but with greater emphasis on the causes of character perversions will be noted in "Secret Climax." It can be read as a fastpaced modern tale of sexual revenge, but upon consideration it will be seen that much of the author's off-beat eroticism has fruitful Freudian overtones for the psychologically oriented reader.
"Secret Climax" is presented in this country for the first time in its complete and unexpurgated entirety. It is suggested for the mature adult reader only.
ALLAN SAUNDERS
New York City, October, 1967
CHAPTER ONE
Raul Le Plaise lay back on the couch in his comfortable cabin atop the rise overlooking the lake. His compact, wiry body, just undex' six feet, seemed relaxed, but his dark, ruggedly good-looking Gallic features were tense as he kept adding to the pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray.
Typically, he had sex on his mind. He was thinking of sex. His loins tingled at the thought of his big, hard cock working away in a hot, slick cunt.
He couldn't help thinking of his old amour, Denise, up here. Five years ago, their yearning bodies had often sought the lonely seclusion of the wooded Lake road. He still remembered the startling whiteness of her lush, curved young, but large titties, the creamy feel of her naked thighs as they embraced in his car.
He stroked her honey-colored hair, kissed her lovely face and cupped her softly yielding breasts. Her deep-pink nipples responded to his caressing fingers, erecting excitedly until he felt their hardness against his palms. Denise sighed delightedly as she felt his lips close over her nipples, jutting lusciousness. As Raul continued to mouth her nipples and teats, the whiteness of her thighs and belly shimmered as they undulated with desire. His lips went to her belly, and she heaved it gently as his tongue darted into the sensitive nook of her navel, then lower, where he mashed his mouth to her cunt, the crinkly hairs of her pussy tickling delightfully.
Denise's hands boldly reached to his loins, unzipped him, and fondled his rousing, lusting prick which throbbed in hot hardness beneath her fingers. She raised her body from the seat for a moment, and as Raul moved away from the wheel she straddled his loins. In a moment, she guided his eager lust to the moist, velvety welcome of her womanhood. He cupped her enticing buttock cheeks as she began a churning, rising, falling grind with her thighs. She whimpered at the thrill of his furiously thrusting cock as she met every passionate lunge of his surging prick.
Her whimpering took on a higher note as her belly and buttocks first, and then her whole body were overwhelmed by erratic spasms, centered around the hot core of his humping penis.
"You've sent me, Larry. Oh, lover, you're wonderful." she screamed in complete soaring abandonment to peak ecstasy.
His loins flung into a final lunge, and every muscle in his torso quivered at the whitehot fountains of joy that surged him aloft to join her bliss.
"I'm your woman," she had whispered in his embrace, as his lava-like sperm burst from his cunt-encased prick to spurt in urgent and intense flood inside her spasming pussy.
A woman.
If he had a woman right now, that would relax him. Avd now that the thought had occurred to him, his need grew like an ache in his gut, a fever in his blood. His balls throbbed dully in need to spill their accumulated love-juices.
It had been...What? Nearly two weeks since he'd so much as felt a woman. And that was a long time on any man's calendar.
And there was Denise, just down in the Village...
He wrenched his thoughts away from Denise and her burning, dark-bushed cunny.
Gaby...That was the piece to think about. It brought a quick grin of pleasure to his face, a good, spreading warmth to his already aroused dong.
After all, she had been the last one he'd been plowing into, belly to belly, prick inside pussy, creaming her vaginal walls with his discharge. Ar:d she was supposed to be in the car he was expecting.
Supposed to be? She had damned well better be in that car.
He grinned again as he thought of Gaby. He took a strong pull of his drink, then leaned back and let his imagination and memory bring her image waltzing across his mind-screen. Actually, little imagination was required. The memory alone was vivid and exciting.
A swinger: a real swinging hot-assed piece. Tall, voluptuous, with long blonde hair. She had been, variously, a Paris dancing girl, a stripper, and when he met her, a topless waitress in one of the bistros.
And did she ever have the tits for it.
Raul had been alone at a small table with his drink. He had grown bored with all those bare bubbies swinging free in the smoke filled air. After all, enough was enough. Now if they were all stretched out flat on their backs and a man could run through them barefoot, that would be something else.
He grinned faintly at the thought of mashing and flattening all those soft knockers, and gazed thoughtfully down into his drink. His mind was again absorbed with the plan he and Roger Lesseps were working on.
And then two globes of tit, huge and white and pink-tipped and luscious, swung back and forth before his face. He glanced up into a pair of sparkling black eyes as Gaby said, "A fresh drink, sir?"
Every time he saw her after that, he felt renewed awe at the size of her magnificent breasts. It seemed impossible that she could carry them around without becoming stoopshouldered. And how did she find sweaters to fit over those huge bouncing bosoms?
The last time -the time Raul was thinking of now -had been in his hotel room in Paris. And she had been mother naked. She hadn't been when she came to the room, of course, but that had been remedied in short order.
Besides, if he intended to pass the time dredging up pleasant memories, why not get right down to the good part? Not that a strip tease -and that was what undressing always amounted to with Gaby if a man was within viewing range -wasn't fine, stimulating and all that, but what came afterward was much, much better...
Raul had lain naked on the hotel bed and watched Gaby approach. Her marvelous teats, her agitated breathing. Her full hips swayed to and fro, and her thighs quivered as though they already cradled him in passion.
Gaby had a habit of dyeing her hair a different color from week to week. That week she was a blonde, and there was no doubt it was her natural state. There was incontrovertible evidence of that, from his tongue on her pussy, framed by her bush.
It was enough to send a prick into eruption just looking at her.
Gaby's talents as a stripper or as a waitress weren't the best, but she had one indisputable talent. She had a talent for fucking.
And she also had an appetite for kissing and lapping the old shaft.
The two weeks he'd known her up to then, had made Raul well acquainted with that appetite. Time and again she would put her lips to his peter and her tongue would ream his dick head, then she would engulf his throbbing tool in her mouth and he would come in it.
She stopped when her knees touched the bed, those delectable boobs rising sheer above him like cherry-topped mountains. She said. "You're leaving soon, Cherie?"
"I'm leaving tonight. After I get a little sleep."
"Then we have a lot of catching up beforehand."
"You're coming up with Roger."
"I know, hon, but that's nearly two whole weeks away. That's a long time for a girl to go without a fuck."
He felt like telling her to find a substitute cock while he was gone, but he didn't. If she wanted to be faithful, why should he discourage her? He doubted that she would be. He was sure she meant it at the moment, but two weeks was a long time for Gaby to control that itch of hers.
"Tired, doll?" she asked throatily.
"A little," he said, and cursed himself for the defensive note in his voice.
"Don't worry, baby. Gaby'll fix everything. That's me: Little Miss Fix-It."
She got onto the bed, on her knees beside him. One breast swung toward his face, and he ducked instinctively. "Watch it, Gaby, those objects are as lethal as cannons."
"Don't worry, monchere, I'm not going to knock you out. Not just yet. Her open mouth descended on his. Her tongue seared his mouth like a lick of flame, and she closed her lips tight around his, creating an effective vacuum, and kissed with a vampire's greed. Meanwhile, her skilled fingers moved on him as light as feathers, stroking, coaxing, teasing.
Just when he felt he was in danger of fainting dead away from lack of air, she took her mouth away and moved down, pausing to kiss at the pulse base of his throat. Then she moved to his nipples, laving them eagerly.
She was good. She was damned good. He had known that, of course, but now she was giving him fresh evidence.
He tensed as he felt something slick and hard at his navel. He raised his head, twisted a little so he could see past hers.
One erect nipple was exploring his navel like a curious finger.
She looked up at him, laughing. "Am I a good worker, cheri?"
"You're good, Gaby."
"And I'm a femme who loves her work."
She moved on, and Raul let his head fall back to the pillow. He savored the sensations her lips and tongue and hands were arousing on his erectile, throbbing peter. He was not nearly so tired as he had been.
He raised his head again and watched her darting and bobbing here and there like a feeding bird. He watched with detached, almost clinical interest as her tongue and lips left a wet trail on the head of the gleaming cock, down the stiff length of his tool to his balls.
Then he gasped aloud as an exquisite thrill took firm hold of him. His interest was no longer clinical. His head slammed back into the pillow, his fingers clawed at the sheet. What she was doing had maximum impact on him.
He groaned aloud. It was all he could do to keep from moving. Then, suddenly, he was moving. He kept pumping his stiff cock in and out of her hot mouth.
Her weight was cushioned on her breasts, which were mashed as flat as possible on his legs. He could feel a taut, throbbing nipple boring into each thigh.
He held on for a moment...another..but it couldn't last. It had to end. And it would, unless...
"All right. Enough, enough."
Her face came back into view, gliding toward his. Her eyes burned with lust, and she was breathing heavily through parted lips.
He reached up to grasp her shoulders, preparatory to flipping her onto her back.
She pushed his hands away. "Didn't I tell you I'd do the work, mon petit? Consider it a going-away present."
Her thighs straddled his, a knee on each side of him. She lowered her opened cunt lips toward his upthrusting root, slowly... slowly...And then not so slowly. Or maybe it was slow. He was beyond being able to judge.
Whatever the tempo, he was abruptly embraced by utter bliss. Then she was falling toward him, and he braced himself for the impact. At the last moment she caught herself, with a palm on each side of his head. Now her own head went far back, the neck tendons standing out, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. On her face was a look of blind ecstasy, as her hot pussy-sheath sank down around his throbbing dong. When her cunt had engulfed his whole prick, the vaginal walls began to grasp and squeeze the rigid dick.
She knew all the moves in the book. She knew some that weren't in the book. She brought muscles into play that Raul hadn't known existed.
All that was required of him was that he lie there and enjoy. And she was something to enjoy. Her breasts swung wildly before his face. Her shoulders jerked, her hips drove at him with a rhythm that grew more frenzied with each surge. Now her hands fastened on his shoulders, her fingers digging in like talons.
Her earlier love play had brought Raul close to the finish a couple of times. Now he felt himself approaching it again.
He reached and filled his hands with the pulsing flesh of her juicy buttocks. He kneaded them. Each time, he brought her crashing against him with still more force. He helped her all he could. Not that she needed help, but he thought he should contribute something.
True, he was, contributing something, he thought, quite a bit of something, but that wasn't what he...
Then all thought ceased for him.
Gaby sensed his prick about to shoot its load and said shrilly, "Not yet, damn you. Not... just...yet." She worked frantically. Then she screamed, "Now...Now."
Larry rose to her, and they crashed. A bomb burst for Gaby, the fragments ripping at his insides. At the same time, Gaby screamed again, and her body convulsed mightily, convulsed again and again in orgasm as his burning come-juices spurted all the way up her pussy. After a time she raised her head and she looked at him, focused on him as though seeing him for the first time in a long while, as the last spurts jetted from his orgasm to add to the flow into and out of her pussy. And that was Gaby.
Raul grunted suddenly, and leaned forward. A dusty sedan was coming up the winding road toward the cabin. It stopped and there were three people in the car.
His mouth curved in a smile of anticipation. It was as he'd expected. Gaby was the first one out, her marvelous titties bouncing freely in the sweater. Raul knew she never wore a brassiere; she told him once that she was proud of nature's gift, so why hide more than the law demanded.
She sprang into his arms, and her lips fastened hungrily on his. His own hunger was strong, but this wasn't the time or the place. He broke the kiss because he felt the stirrings of a hard-on.
She still clung to him. In her hoarse voice she whispered against his ear "Damn. It's been a long two weeks, cheri." He felt the soft pressure of her big teats against his chest.
Gently he moved her aside and advanced toward Roger. The thin, shifty man had entered and taken a position against the wall, his mouse eyes watching. His face elongated and narrow, the pallid skin drawn drumtight over prominent cheekbones.
Roger's small eyes twinkled. "Well, ami, how goes it up here?"
Striving to disguise the genuine affection he had for this man, Raul growled. "You're a half-day late."
Roger gestured grandly. "Sightseeing, son, like a tourist. This is awesome country."
Raul glanced past Roger's shoulder.
"Forgive my bad manners." Roger said, turning. "This is our newest recruit ^ the last member of our little quartet. Paul Lamar. This is Raul LePlaise, Paul, our commander-in-chief."
Lamar took a step forward and held out his hand. "How do, boss man." His voice was flat, colorless.
Raul's nostrils detected the unmistakable odor of marijuana. A weedhead. A shiver of apprehension shook him, and he whirled on Roger. "I want a word with you. Alone."
Roger nodded amiably, speaking with unfailing cheerfulness, "Excuse us, my children."
He followed Raul to the next room, one of the two bedrooms in the cabin. Raul slammed the door behind them, then spun around with a scowl.
"Just where the hell did you dig that goon up?"
"Paul?" Roger's eyebrows and shoulders climbed. "You said to get an experienced heister, a man who could use a gun..."
"But not a weedhead. Roger, you know how important this is to me..." His voice dropped to a whisper. "If this goon fouls it up, I'll hold you personally responsible."
"My body, it's important to me, too. Since when hasn't a split of nearly a million francs been important to me? Trust me, my friend." He made soothing gestures with his plump hands. "Trust me to handle Paul."
"But he's so damned thin, for one thing. He'll be easy to identify."
"Even so." Roger shrugged. "Even so. We stuff him a little, like Santa Claus. It'll be even better that way, don't you see?"
Raul slowly nodded his head in reluctant assent to the older man's reasoning. He generally trusted his older, more experienced judgment but in Lamar's case he felt serious forebodings.
"Okay, Roger, he stays,on your say so. But this job has got to be smooth all the way. You better warn him that at the first sign of rough stuff he's out," he said grimly.
"I'll keep him in hand, Roger replied.
Raul still wasn't happy with Paul's presence, but he was on the premises already. Besides, there were other matters clamoring for his attention. Such as the alluring spectacular appeal of Gaby's big breasts beneath her sweater. Two glowing areas on his chest still were thrilling to the delightful feel of her twin beauties as she had pressed them against him in welcome, to say nothing of that thrilling bush, surrounding a hot, tight cunt between her gorgeous gams. With Gaby's pussy within easy prick reach, he could put up with a hell of a lot of other kinds of fucking around.
CHAPTER TWO
Raul watched with rising excitement, the antics of his delectable mistress. Gaby's lush buttocks were shimmering enticingly and her huge breast mounds jiggling wildly beneath her tight sweater as she swayed to the strains of the fast music she had just switched on.
She turned to Raul, her torso undulating sexily and snapping her fingers said, "C'mon, let me teach you how to swing it. You don't know any of the new dances."
He felt the waves of sheer physical appeal radiating from her well-stacked figure.
While Denise was shorter than Gaby, she was just as fully developed. Her breasts had a saucy up-tilted curve, and he still remembered the cute dimples where the rounds of her buttock cheeks merged into her thighs. She had just as much fuck-eager pass ion, too. Dark,honey-colored hair framed her lovely features. He had believed she was a oneman woman and that he was the man, until she had married someone else.
She was less than 4 kilometres away, in the village. And that, of course, was his ridiculous thought for the day. He hadn't seen her for five years, and their parting had not been friendly. Now she was another man's wife.
Impatiently he shoved Denise out of his mind. Now wasn't the time to brood over lost love. Yet bitterness was a part of his purpose here.
He stood with his back to the cold fireplace, hands clasped behind him. He began, "I know Roger hasn't told you much about the job, Lamar, so now's the time to clue you in on what I have in mind. Today is Wednesday..." And the following Monday was a holiday. Over the holiday weekend, thousands of vacationers would pour into the village, leaving behind them when they departed Monday night, something over three quarters of a million francs, most of which would be deposited in the village bank Tuesday morning. And what Raul had in mind was robbing the bank.
The bank had never been held up. There were only two roads out of the village, and it was at least fifty kilometres before either road branched off, leading down out of the mountains. Both roads could be sealed off in a matter of minutes after an alarm was given. Since escape was impossible, holding up the bank was considered sheer insanity. As a result, the bank had grown careless over the years. It employed only one guard. There was only one law officer in the village, a small town 'flic,' and he employed extra men just to watch over the weekend vacationers. But they were like volunteer firemen, returning to their regular jobs when the weekend was over. All these facts Raul knew and expected to turn to his advantage.
"And that's all I'll go into right now. The details will come later. There are still several days until the actual job. One of us might get arrested for falling over a log, get scared and spill his guts," Paul finished. "I'll add only this right now. Roger chose you, Lamar, for two reasons. You can steal a car, and you can handle a rod. The car, you will be expected to steal. But the gun, you will not use. Repeat, not use. There will be no killing. And Gaby.." Relaxed now, he grinned over at the lush, voluptuous teated-cutie. "She's the driver of the getaway car. She may not look it, but Gaby's an amateur race driver, and a damned good one."
She winked at him. holding up her glass in silent toast, which raised her big tits up under the straining sweater.
Lamar broke the silence. Without moving a muscle in his face, he managed to convey a sneer of contempt. "And you, Monsieur Le Presidente? I don't hear you in this caper anywhere."
Raul tensed. "I'm not in it. Not in the way you mean. I'm too well-known. I once worked in the bank."
"But the plan is his, Paul" Roger broke in smoothly. "He's the brains. I explained that to you. In any criminal endeavor, the brain is all-important; the planning. I told you that. You've heard there's no such thing as a perfect crime? Well the way the lad here has worked it out, there is. This piece of work will be talked about foryearstocome... if we all do our part."
"And your part, Lamar," Raul said harshly, "means no killing. I know your kind; you're a gun-happy punk. But if there's a killing on this job, I'll ram your gun down your throat. Is that understood?"
Lamar took two stalking steps forward. "Nobody talks to me that way." His voice was cold with menace.
Raul stared back without flinching. Lamar's mouse eyes were a mindless wasteland.
Then Roger moved forward, dropped a hand slightly on Lamar's arm, "Let's not have nasty confrontations this early. Let's take a walk in the great outdoors, mon ami. See what it looks like."
Roger steered the creep outside. At the door the dapper gent glanced back, and one eyelid dropped in a wink.
The door had scarcely closed behind them before Gaby was in Raul's arms. She was an active armful, cooperative and lustful.
Her mouth was warm, her breath smelling faintly of gin. She stirred his loins, but something else stirred in the recesses of his mind -the memory of Denise.
Gaby sensed the change in him. Her head went back, the long hair sweeping her shoulders. "What's wrong, my sweet?"
"Gaby, I'm sorry. I'm all on edge. Tuesday's too damned close. And the other two may come back any minute."
"So what? Let them."
She surged close again, her huge breasts pressing his chest. She blew hot breath into his ear. "Remember the last time, cheri? You were tired then. Now you're on edge. So what's the difference? Gaby will fix."
Without warning she rammed a hand inside his belt. Raul gasped. His response to her touch upon his hanging prick and the cupping of his balls swept all thought of Denise from his mind.
She grinned up at him. "See, mon cheri? See?"
Her fingers tickled the head of his shaft, toying with the little end hole which began to ooze glad-come. He crushed her to him so fiercely that her huge busts spread across her chest. She raised her face, mouth blindly seeking his. His hands cupped her roundly jutting buttocks, forcing her against his penis. Her hips found room to move, tight against him,as she was; to move, to maneuver, to create the right amount of friction of his surging, stiffening rod and her groin area.
Raul's desires vaulted, consuming him like a brush fire. His nerve-ends sparked. His veins throbbed. His cock, naturally large became a giant ramrod straining fiercely to pop through his and her clothing, and ram into her pussy and split it.
Gaby moved again, her hips rolling ever more suggestively.
This brought another gasp from Raul and Gaby pulled her mouth free, laughing. She nipped at his lip. Then she stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear, enumerating the things she intended to do for him. She was graphic in her use of terms.
She finished, "And right here. Now. On the floor, sweet." Her eyes were glazed with lust, and she started to sag toward the floor, tugging him down with her.
Her hand darted to his hard-on again, but he evaded her, then caught both her hands in his and began pulling her toward the bedroom. She went willingly now, laughing at him.
In the bedroom he released her and turned to latch the door. When he turned, the sweater was gone, leaving her naked from the waist up. Under his gaze she threw her shoulders back, took a deep breath, the marvelous dancing teats rising. The nipples were tumescent and throbbing. They seemed to beckon to him.
He obeyed the summons, started toward them.
Two steps away his hands came up of their own volition, fingers curling to the proper shape to cup her breasts. But she evaded his grasp. She indicated the ski pants. "Hadn't I better take these off first?"
She turned away, her hands already busy. Raul sat on the edge of the bed, bent over to remove his shoes. When he glanced up, Gaby still had her back to him. She was having trouble with the ski pants, and she was bent slightly, working at the tight waist band. She wiggled and twisted and turned, her lush buttocks bouncing merrily. As he watched, one pink haunch came into view. Then the other, as bending further she peeled the pants down over full thighs and across her knees. Both cheeks of her ass were bared. He could see the inner skin between the crevice of her bottom. He felt the urge to stick his cock head up her behind -or at least a finger.
The view afforded Raul was inspiring. But not, he thought, in the way an artist is inspired to produce a masterpiece; nothing that he felt in that moment was in any way artistic. But certainly the view was stimulating. He had a strong urge to leap to his feet and charge her, fuck her up the asshole, just as she was, bent far over, her hands almost touching the floor now. He placed his palms flat on the bed to push himself up.
Then she stood and turned, all in one fluid motion. His expression must have given her a hint of his thoughts, for she grinned wickedly and wagged a finger at him. "How naughty. And you said you were all on edge."
"I am," he said. Then he grinned back at her. "But the edge I'm perched on right now is far different from the one I was talking about out there."
"We'll take care of that in short order." She glided forward, shaking her head at him. "You are without a doubt the slowest...It takes you longer to undress than any man I know."
"You don't give a man much time." He stood up, reaching for his belt buckle. She fell to her knees. "Let me, cheri. I'll show you how it should be done."
So while Raul tore at his shirt, buttons popping, Gaby unbelted his trousers and peeled them -shorts going too -down and off. Then she rained quick, teasing kisses on his thighs, legs, knees, the head of his prick, his balls, and the hairy area underneath. She jabbed her tongue up between the warm crack.
Raul stepped out of the puddle of clothes at his feet just in time to catch Gaby as she sprang to her feet and hurled herself against him, her big teats slapping against his hot, hard chest.
They fell across the bed, Gaby squirming, biting, kicking, caressingly a bundle of passion in his arms. She nipped at his ear, darted the tip of her tongue across his lips. As he opened his mouth to seize her tongue, she pulled away with a hoot of laughter. She twisted about just enough, her aim perfect, to pop a taut nipple into his mouth. He worked on that for a few moments, his hands busy elsewhere on her body.
Then she said in a hoarse voice, "Bebe, I'm eager. Let's not lose time. It's been sooooo damned long.."
With a grunt of agreement, he flipped her to her back. She set her legs, knees raised slightly, in the classic fucking position. He moved around, got up on his knees. He paused there just a moment, his gaze raking her lewd nakedness from head to toe. Her hips were already in avid motion as she humped her moist slightly parted pussy lips. He whiffed the exciting odor of her woman secretions.
With a groan she reached up and pulled him to her. Their hips clashed, and he was overwhelmed by the female intensity of her as his huge, straining cock disappeared into her hot, tight quim.
He knew he was going to shoot his wad quick. He wanted it to be quick. He placed a hand on the outside of each breast and pushed them together, burying his face between them. He reveled in the scented femaleness of her flesh.
His orgasm raced toward completion, independent of his will.
Gaby said shrilly, "Love me, cheri. Fuck me completely:"
He grunted, his face still buried between her breasts. He caught a fold of flesh between his teeth and bit down.
Gaby curled her fingers in his hair and pulled his head up, raised her face to meet his. Her mouth was an inferno.
Raul increased the tempo of his humping, his body almost out of control. Once he thought he had lost her, but she groaned and moved frantically until she found him again.
His pleasure was nearing its peak. He feared he would be too quick for her. He should have known better; it never paid to underestimate the passionate Gaby.
Sensing his orgasm approaching, she threw her hot cunt up and down his thrusting organ, again and again, her pussy in a mad frenzy. Her hips jolted at him like a thrashing snake.
Raul groaned, his body stiffening as he was about to ejaculate. He groaned again. Nothing existed for him but the spasms convulsing his body as his hot sperm erupted from the head of his spasming prick to fill her heaving cunt with an immediate load of his 'come'.
At the same time, Gaby screamed. Her torso left the bed in a mighty arch, a bridge of pulsating pussy, still holding his slick organ, lifting him high, her weight resting on her elbows and wide-pi anted feet. She ground against him, screaming again and again, the cries gradually lessening in intensity. Finally she fell back, sprawling limply. He fell with her.
"You're the best," she breathed heavily. "The very best."
He faced her. She had scooted up in bed to get her back against the headboard. He reached over the side of the bed to his shirt, found a cigar in the pocket and lit it.
"A pull, baby?" He extended the cigar to her. She took a strong draw and then let the smoke out without change of expression.
His glance dropped to her breasts. The nipples were still erect, as though nothing had happened. He lowered his hand and rubbed his palm back and forth. Her face went slack, her eyes closing. She groped for his hand and forced it harder against her tit points.
"Don't those...Don't they ever go down?"
She opened her eyes and saw his skeptical grin, "Well, let's just say they feel like they don't."
Still grinning, he took his hand away, drew on the cigar.
"Raul, do you really think we can pull it off?"
"If I didn't think so, I wouldn't be doing it."
"It's going to be a long week," she said sulkily.
"Not so long, baby." He grinned down at her. "Just remember all that money. I already have the tickets, and when the heat's off, we'll take off like birds. We'll have a ball in Brazil with all that cash."
"I don't see why Roger has to go along with us."
He was silent. How could he tell her that the man had come to be like a father to him? Raul's own father had been killed when he was ten years old. And he had been a poor excuse for a father anyway. Raul thought far more of Roger than he ever had of his real father.
Now that Gaby had started his thoughts churning about the robbery, Raul was seized by a restless urge to be up and moving. Roger and Lamar would be back soon. And, as he'd just told Gaby, his very presence here posed a risk he was foolish for taking.
Then Gaby's hand touched the outside of his thigh, crept like a silken-toed spider toward the other thigh. Then she paused, her fingers light as tickling feathers.
He leaned to the nightstand to put out his cigar, then turned to her. She held up open arms and pulled him into her embrace.
His tongue ran out lightly, caressingly over the nipple. Gaby sighed lustily. The oreast, enlarged enormously by being so near his eyes, heaved like a mountain peak convulsed by an earthquake.
He trailed the tip of his tongue down the ski slope between the two teats and onto the mound of her belly. He stopped to explore her belly with his tongue.
She sighed and moaned, pitched and rolled. Raul had to slip one arm under her waist to keep from being pitched off. His other hand brushed lightly across the downsweep of her abdomen, across her agitated thighs, then came to rest on her bush, his finger tips sliding in between the pink-puckering cunny lips.
Her cries grew louder. Her hands clenched in his hair. Her hips rose and fell. Her feet flailed in the air. Her thighs trembled. Her hips now moved from side to side, then began a slow circling that gradually picked up speed as he finger-fucked her slick tunnel.
Then a great shudder racked her, and her hips left the bed in a stiffening arch. And Raul knew it was time.
He moved around, got to his knees. She was heaving, her eyes were clenched shut, her mouth was open, her breath whistling in and out. Without opening her eyes, she reached for him, found his thrusting peter and rammed the end into her hot, wet hole. He indulged her, let her lead him.
At the last moment he thought back to a few minutes ago when he'd watched her bent over, removing the ski pants. That gave him an idea. He pulled his partially immersed dong from her vulva.
She moaned. "No, my dearest, no." Her hands groped blindly for his moist dong, then her eyes flew open. "What are you doing to me? I'm dying."
"Don't worry, baby. As you're always saying, we're going to fix that. Right now."
He seized her, flipped her onto her stomach. Then he placed a hand on each hip and raised her so her big ass-cheeks were positioned near his stiff prong. He pushed his lower body forward so his pulsating shaft entered between her lower rumpcheeks. He waited just a moment, taking a deep breath.
She twisted her head to look back at him, her moist hair tangled about her face. "What are you...?" Then her eyes widened. "Oh, yes. Gaby will like that."
When he slid his big prick into her asshole, it hurt, but she wanted it in there. She moaned and cried out, shuddering violently. Then she went crazy.
She did indeed like that. She liked it very much. And for Raul, it was wild and weirdly wonderful.
Final ecstasy hit him like a blow, and the world around him exploded into fragments as his pulsating prick expanded as it erupted his white spermal release, and she writhed as her impaled ass filled with his hot flow.
When sanity returned he was lying exhausted atop Gaby. Her face was buried in the pillow. Her anal passage still throbbed, jumping now and then like a raw nerve. His feebly ejecting cock was now soft and still up her behind, but due to its slick wetness, was slowly sliding out of her anus.
After a while, Raul got up and sat on the edge of the bed. He felt weak in the knees, yet he felt great, better than he had at any time in the last two weeks.
He rose and began dressing.
"I think I'll take a little nap, my sweet," She said in a voice little louder than a whisper."
"You do that. I have to leave anyway.
"Good-bye, mon cheri. Hurry back."
Roger and Lamar hadn't returned. It was dark as Paul strode down the hill toward the village. The distant stars glittered.
The nearest cabin was several hundred yards away. He had selected this one for that reason. He didn't intend to make more than one more trip up here, but he wanted to come and go unobserved. Roger had rented the cabin by mail, but Raul had found it, and had sent Roger the address of the broker handling the rental.
Raul had a room in the two-story hotel across the street from the bank. He paused a moment to fire a cigar before going in, his gaze on the bank.
Its high false front reminded him of Edouard Le Fevre. Edouard was plump and genial, a perpetual smile pasted on his round face.
He had gained thirty pounds in Raul's five years away, and he had advanced from head cashier to president.
Raul had made an appointment with Edouard on the pretext that he wanted to negotiate a loan for a business he wanted to start in the village. It would give him a good opportunity to case the bank's layout.
Now he sat opposite Edouard's fat, oily face with its wisp of a moustache skirting an uneasy smile. His beady, glittering eyes never met Raul's.
While they spoke Raul kept seeing the lissome, white, honey-tressed loveliness of
Denise at the bedroom beck and call of Edouard. How could she ever let her delicate curves be embraced by the gross, slobbering, button-penised obesity before him? With a paunch like Edouard's, they couldn't even have sex together unless Denise could bring herself to straddle him, or position herself at the edge of the bed so her creamy thighs were around his fat loins and her cunt could make contact with his upwaving, short, knobby cock. She would have to lower her snatch to engulf his dick. Otherwise his ejaculating pricklet would slip out of the hot vulva and shoot all over her tits and belly -which had happened a few times to her disgust.
CHAPTER THREE
After the meeting with Edouard, Raul headed for his hotel room with thoughts of the irony of Edouard fucking the sexy bodied Denise. Seeing Edouard seemed to have made his memories of her more vivid. All those rides on the Lake Road in his old jalopy, her transformation from a reluctant girl who trembled when they petted and worried about Peeping Toms when he tried to put his hand under her panties, came flooding back.
Then something had grown between them, call it love -and she had become unafraid, even bold. She was gaily taking off most of her clothes in the car as time went on, so her titties would be naked for him, or her bra would be unfastened. She would remove her panties and raise her dress so his prick could ram her pussy conveniently.
"Every inch of my body is yours," she would tell him, "and I want you to possess me as a man should with a woman. I want to be screwed by you."
He had since known scores of female bodies, in all stages of undress. But no bed sessions had ever equally what the flaming, vibrant cunt of the delectable Denise had made him feel.
He blinked his eyes as he opened the door of his room. A flesh and blood Denise was before him. Then she spoke. The voice was clear as a silver bell, and as familiar to him as though he'd last heard it only a few minutes ago. "Hello, Raul."
He moved slowly toward her, disoriented, unsure of himself. She got to her feet as he approached. She was compact, with a slender, fully developed figure.
She wore a light gray sweater and a flowing skirt of darker gray. He remembered vividly the figure underneath, the firm tits, the smooth belly with skin white as snow in contrast to her honey-colored hair and the tanned, exciting thighs. Even more vividly could he remember the surprising strength of those thighs wrapped about his naked flanks, the calves pressing down on his humping ass as his prick thrust up her pussy.
Her face was solemn, and her black eyes seemed larger, brighter than he remembered.
Against his will he took her hand, it burrowed into his like a warm live animal seeking shelter. He held it tightly in both of his and waited. His heart began to pound unevenly.
She said softly, "You've been in town two weeks, Raul, and you haven't called me."
He dropped her hand as a surge of anger rose to his throat. "The last time, you told me you never wanted to talk to me again. It seems to me that we said it all then."
"That was five years ago. Many things have changed since then.'
"What things, Denise? Have you changed? You're still Edouard LeFevre's wife, aren't you?"
She turned and with her back to him, she said. "I'm still married to Edouard, yes. What is it they say? In name only?"
Raul felt his heart leap with...What?Hope' How stupid could a man be? What kind of a dope did she think he was?
He snarled, "Just what is that supposed to tell me?"
She whirled around. "It means I'm sorry I married him. It means I regret the years we might have had together. It means I was a fool for not going away with you when you asked me." Her voice had fallen to a painful whisper, and she gnawed at the back of her hand as tears gathered in her eyes.
He wanted desperately to go to her, take her in his arms and kiss away the tears. It took a great effort of will to remain still. He asked harshly, "When did you discover all this?"
She bowed her head, her voice the merest whisper. "Not long after you left."
He clenched his fists and tried to keep the scorn out of his voice. "It couldn't have been very long. I understand you married less than a month after I left."
She raised her head and looked defiantly at him, her eyes now bleak and hard. "I can be stubborn, too, I wanted to prove to myself that I could get along without you."
He glared at her, still straining to stifle his rage. Five years. Five wasted, stupid, aimless years.
"I still don't see what you have to complain about," he said icily. Your husband's now president of the bank.
"When Father died two years ago, naturally all his stock came to me. And naturally, Edouard was the choice of the directors to succeed Father."
Bitterness washed over him in waves. LeFevre now had what could have been Raul's. The bank presidency, old Genet's money, and Denise. He knew now that he woud gladly have forfeited all the rest, if Denise were only his. And it was her he was striking back at. Not the bank, not the village...just Denise.
He said bitingly, "So what's the beef? You've got it all."
"Not all, Raul. Not you," she said simply. "And without you, the rest is nothing."
The statement was both a plea and a confession, and it was all he needed. All the rage drained out of him, the bitterness swept from his mind. He reached for her, and she came eagerly to his arms, her warm body melting into his.
"Oh, darling. It seems I've waited forever for this moment."
Her lips parted in invitation and he crushed his mouth to hers, probing deep with his tongue. She responded fully to him, reaching, seeking, demanding. He explored with his tongue, savoring the hot sweetness of hers.
His hands moved over her body, seeking a once-familiar touchbud of her tits, her sweet belly, her rounded behind, her loins, and finding them as easily as a blind man reads Braille.
But her clothes inhibited him. He put one hand up under the front of her sweater and slid his fingers over her slip. The feel of the material, heated by her flesh sent a shiver over him. He moved his hand around to fumble for the snap of her bra. The slip was still in his way. He tugged impatiently, and a strap broke.
Denise pulled her mouth free and strained back in his arms. "Darling...wait."
He loosened his embrace, and she stepped back. As she did, the back of her hand brushed across his fly area. She shuddered visibly. Her eyes closed, her head going back.
"Oh, Raul dearest. Hadn't you better lock the door?"
When he turned back from the door she had pulled the sweater over her head. Her hair was tumbled attractively about her face.
She gestured. "The light...?"
"No." he said forcefully. "I want to see your body. It's been a long time."
Her eyes glittered. "I know. And I want you to."
He started toward her. "No. Stay there, darling, and watch."
Shy as a bride, Denise removed her garments one by one and stacked them neatly on a chair. When she was naked, she straightened and posed proudly, her big knockers danced, the large nipples proud.
"For five years I've dreamed of offering myself to you like this. I want you to see that I haven't changed, that I've kept myself like this for you. I want you to see that five years of marriage to that...pig..." She spat the word like an obscenity. "Those five years haven't changed me -outwardly, at least."
He wondered what had changed LeFevre from a marriageable male to a pig. But he sensed that this wasn't the time or place for the question.
She hadn't changed physically. Her pert teats rose proudly. Her body flowed in smooth lines from the sloping shoulders to the long, tapering thighs, with her golden cunt bush at the apex between her legs framing that sweet, pink set of cunny lips which were still amazingly girl-like and closely pressed together. Her skin there was dark, with the faintest flush of rose.
His gaze fastened on her exciting pussy, and although she stood perfectly still, there seemed to be a slight, suggestive roll to it, as if winding up for the thrust of his cock.
His prick erected and pushed against the front of his pants. He ripped and tore at his clothes, and by the time he reached her he was down to trousers and shorts. And when at last he stood with his big dong jutting, fully revealed to her, a low moan escaped her and she swayed toward him. He caught her. Savagely he crushed her lissome body against him, plowing his cock, shaft and all into her cunt passage with the accumulated hunger of five years. The points where her hot snatch burned about his plunging prick seared him like licking flames.
"Oh, Raul. Darling, darling."
He dug his fingers into her yielding buttock meat, bending her far back so he could find one of the tumescent nipples. The scent of her filled his nostrils as he lifted her, molding the soft flesh to his muscular leanness.
All the women he had known, all the female bodies he had fucked in the past five years faded from memory as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He placed her gently oe the bed and gazed down at her. Her heavylidded eyes spoke an urgent invitation, as did her upthrust breasts and moist slightly opened snatch.
"Raul, darling, it's been so long, so terribly long..." She raised her arms to him, her lips parted, her pussy humping up at him, already working in the motion of erotic anticipation of his prick burning inside it. "I never thought I'd know real love again."
Love flooded Raul's heart as he knelt beside the bed and reached hungrily for her delectable body. He could feel the urgent heat of her belly as he placed his cheek on the smoothness of it and circled his tongue in her navel, as his fingers twirled and tugged at her bush, opening her cunny lips.
"Oh, darling." She buried her fingers in his hair, pressed his face firmly to her quivering flesh. "Kiss my body."
Tenderly, reverently, he trailed kisses from her navel to her left breast. There he mouthed the turgid nipple, worried it with lips, teeth and tongue. As he went back and forth from one breast to the other, his desire spiraled higher. He longed to slip his rod into her vagina, then and there, drive himself to her again and again until he was utterly depleted, his spermal juice seeping from her cunt; as with any other woman he would have. But his lust was tempered by love. This woman wasn't a tramp, a bar pickup, such as he'd been used to for five years. This wasn't even a Gaby.
With a groan he gathered Denise up with his hands spread under her buttocks, raising her to his stiff torrid prick.
"Oh. Mon Dieu, Raul, cheri."
She strained against his surging cock, her hands clawing at his head to press his seeking mouth ever closer to her palpitating cunt hole. Her hips thrashed mightily in his hands and it was all he could do to hold her. He kept on, kept on until she began to moan weakly, her fingers tugging ceaselessly at his hair.
"Raul, if you don't stop, I'll..."
His lips pursed to her pussy and began to suck upon the tasty lips of her snatch. His tongue licked at her rock-hard clitoris.
Then it was time to put his penis where his mouth was. He rose, moved around on his knees before her.
She reached out, found his shaft and guided his peter into her vagina.
He plunged, and she welcomed him, velvet thighs instantly clamping his hips, and his probing prick encased in the warm folds of her cunt. "Oh, my darling."
Denise clung to him with every muscle at her command as his prick thrust deep into her. Wildly she thrashed beneath him, lifting him clear off the bed repeatedly, meeting I his cock surging onslaught with vigor to match his own. He worked his hands under her, sinking his fingers deep in her pulsing ass, and held her against him as his passion blazed.
It grew wilder and wilder, but ever more wonderful as the microseconds surged by. He had forgotten how marvelous it could be to fuck the sweet hole of a woman you loved.
With Gaby it was pure and simple, a frantic coupling of male organ into woman's cunt. Or it was a wanton romp in the hay, a giddy riot of sensation. But with Denise.....
His huge, pulsating prick surged and pumped deep -far up her box, to the uterus.
And the sensation was there too, gathering in him now, a whirling vortex of sensation about to suck him down and down and down...
Denise screamed, "Now, my darling. Now. I'm there. I'm...there. Don't wait. I'm coming. Shoot your load into my cunt with mine."
And he did. He let his wad go. The vortex pulled him down, spun him to mindlessness, then flung him high in a starburst of searing ecstasy. A symphony of the planets roared in his ears as he clung desperately to her writhing body, his hot milky juices gushing into her cunt in a never-ending flood. The overflow seeped out of her saturated cunt and down between them. The starchy odor was strong as the flow, leaving a glistening stream of their comes down her ass hole and onto the bed.
"Oh." Her head twisted on the pillow as she arched against him and a convulsive spasm ripped through her. Her nails raked the straining muscles of his back. "Oh. Ah. Darling," as her cunt filled and overflowed with his sperm.
He held her fiercely as the final spasms convulsed them both. Then his breath exploded in violent gasps and he fell exhausted onto her spent body. He dropped his face to her breasts, gulping for air.
"My dearest darling." She let her legs loosen, finally releasing him. She ran gentle fingers into his hair and pulled his face up to hers. "I love you, Raul."
He gazed deep into her tranquil face. There was no guile in her eyes. He had possessed her as he had never fucked the vagina of any other woman. She was his completely, and he knew it.
He should have been happy. He had been until the ecstasy broke, bringing the world crashing in on him again. His making love to Denise, as wonderful as it had been, had changed nothing. She was still another man's wife. Nothing had really changed. Gaby and Roger were out there waiting, depending on him,,,and the robbery...
She pulled his face down and kissed him tenderly. "Darling, how could we have wasted all these years?" Her eyes were clouded with tears.
He rolled away from her, and his slippery prick left a spot of seminal fluid on her belly and bush. "We? What's with the we?" he snarled. "You seem to forget: I begged you to come away with me."
She tried to pull him back. "I couldn't, darling, You know I couldn't."
He lit a cigarette for each of them. He gave Denise hers, saying, "Couldn't?" He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, the anguish of all the years, the hate he had for the village welling up inside of him. Without looking at her he drew on the cigarette and let smoke dribble out with his words. "Wouldn't, you mean."
"Raul, I love you. I've always loved you..."
"But you married Edouard."
"I never loved him, Raul. I married him from pure spite, I suppose. To get back at you. You must remember, I'm my father's daughter. I'm not a piece of baggage you check and come back to pick up again whenever you please."
He remembered her earlier remark. "What's this about Edouard being a pig?"
Her face contorted. "He is a pig. He lives like one, eats like one, even makes love like one. On our wedding night he rooted and snorted like a hog in a trough, as he stuck his grubby, prick into my cunt, and he came in moments. As soon as he shot his sperm, he pulled his slippery cock from me. I was in agony." She shuddered, hugging herself. "I can't even stand to have him put his penis in me any more."
In a surge of compassion, he folded her into his arms. Before long she slid down until her cheek rested on his thigh. Then she put her mouth to his well oiled prick head.
He stiffened. "No. Don't do that."
"Don't you dare tell me what I can or cannot do." she blazed up at him. She braced up, put her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back onto the bed. "You're going to know me, Raul LePlaise. You're going to know me in every way it's possible for a man to know a woman."
With a sigh and a shrug, Raul lay back and let her have her way. Like sparks of electricity, jolts of fresh sensation shook him as she lavished her exotic love play on his body. He had been sure there was no response left in him. But he was wrong.
Her lips were warm and wet on his cock, her tongue tip pushed into his pee-hole as deep as she could. Her fingers splayed the head wider to allow her tongue to enter the dick-he ad ever deeper.
It took Denise only a few short minutes to prove to him just how wrong he was. Then a passion storm of pain-pleasure tore at him, and his torso left the bed in a straining arch. It was too much. It was too damned much.
But he had neither the will nor the strength to stop her. He shuddered and came. The sperm sprayed from his cock-head and shot into her mouth in spasm after spasm. It inundated her throat with his semen.
When that was over, he was left as weak as an hour-old kitten. For a moment he thought he had died. Yet that couldn't be, for he was in Heaven.
Finally he stirred, and said weakly, "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"
Beside him, Denise caressed his chest and belly with teasing fingertips, kissing the hard planes of muscle. She smiled sleepily. "There is another way. As soon as you rest a minute..."
"Oh, no." he gasped. "No more. I'm all fucked out."
She laughed softly. Then her head came to rest at his shoulder. "All right, mon cher, there'll be other times for other ways."
They rested for a while, warm and close and deeply content. Then Denise said. "I must go now, sweet. We have to be careful. Whatever's in store for us in the future, we can't have spoiled by Edouard finding us like this."
Raul nodded agreement.
She got off the bed and began to dress. "Darling, I'm having a birthday party tomorrow night. I want you to be there."
"Oh, no. I'm not interested in socializing with your husband and his friends."
"It will be mostly my friends. I want to see you there." Her face was set in determination, her dark eyes flashing. He wondered why she wanted him so badly at her party. Was it to flaunt him in the face of her husband? Or did she really want him there just because it was her birthday?
Suddenly the reasons didn't matter. He wanted to see her at every opportunity and how better could he put to rest any suspicion about his purpose in the village than by renewing old acquaintances and making new?
"If you want me to, I'll come. But I doubt very much if Edouard will appreciate my being there."
"Don't worry about Edouard. He'd never in a thousand years believe another man would actually be fucking his wife."
He watched her finish dressing, experiencing a flicker of fresh desire when she bent slightly to cup her ample teats into the bra and snap it behind her.
He slipped off the bed and went to her. Holding hands like children, they moved to the door.
"Until tomorrow, my love," she whispered, leaning back to kiss him. Denise slid back within the protection of the door and leaned back against it, pressing it shut again. Then, embracing him she gingerly kissed his lips, and nestled her head against his chest. Before he could stop her, she slid to her knees before him, her arms entwined around his loins, and she put her mouth to the head of his prick again.
Her honey hair rubbed against him as Raul felt the silky warmth of her yearning mouth sucking on the head of his cock. Her sensuous lips and hot, agile tongue suddenly aroused his lust again to an unbelievable extent. His sucked prick grew hard and as she sucked on the shaft, her hand cupped and toyed with his balls.
Denise's head worked hungrily, speeding glorious sensations to the base of his spine. Then he suddenly grasped her head as his loins worked spasmodically in the grip of keen pleasure surges that roared through his overwhelmed body. She felt his prick pulsate as he was once again about to ejaculate. She removed her lips from his organ and grabbed it with her one hand, as her other one held his nuts in a hot grip.
Just then, his peak arrived, and white spurts burst from the head of his gleaming purple shaft. She held it in her hand and watched as large white drops arched from his prick and the sperm spurts shot out many feet, as she watched the milky jets spatter the floor.
When his prick stopped shooting, she kissed the limp tip, then she kissed his lips and left.
CHAPTER FOUR
Denise was gone, but Raul still had the taste of her kiss upon his lips -her lips and the musky, starchy odor of his own pleasure release which she had accepted so eagerly in her mouth. His body was in the grip of a languorous weakness. Maybe, he suddenly had too much of something hot, but it wasn't a bath, he mused as a smile creased his rugged features.
When he was dressed, he walked to a little bistro three blocks from his hotel. He felt ravenously hungry as he smelled food and ordered a well-done steak. A meal like that should certainly start recharging his batteries for further action on the stud front.
To take his mind off Denise, he watched the slender waitress flitting about. She was a redhead with a pert laughing face, fine teats and shapely legs. Her figure filled the dress more than adequately, and she gave a flip of her ample hips and ampler behind now and then as she flitted about that was really something to watch.
There had seemed to be something vaguely familiar about her when she'd served him, but he'd been too hungry to ponder it. Now it came to him. Yvette Moreau. He remembered her as a scrawny, skinny-legged kid four or five years behind him in years. He took a closer look as she came toward his booth. She was certainly no longer a scrawny kid. She had filled out -and very satisfactorily -in all parts.
She stopped at his table, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. She held a pot of coffee in the other hand.
"More coffee, sir?"
"I believe I will, Yvette."
Her face lit up. "Then you do remember me."
"I do now. I was too hungry to take a good look when I came in. My apologies, Yvette. I didn't mean to snub you."
"Oh, I knew you right off. I live in the hotel where you're staying -just down the hall three doors -and I've seen you coming and going."
"That's good to know, your staying there. I'll remember that."
"Can I depend on it?" Her smile deepened, and she leaned in, one hand on the table near his. She took a deep breath, and one tit almost hit him in the face. He resisted the impulse to snap at it. "Did you really come back to start some kind of business, Raul?"
"Could be," he smiled. "I'll tell you one thing, for sure: if it's some kind of restaurant I'd be happy to have you work for me. You're a darn good waitress."
"I think I'd like to work under you, Raul." To make sure he caught her full meaning, she covered his hand with hers.
Raul didn't move his hand. "Maybe I'll give you that chance, Yvette."
Reluctantly she drew her hand away, poured his coffee and left. This time she gave an extra switch of her plump, sexy bottom, and he was positive she was fully aware of it.
Except for Lefevre and Denise, Yvette was the first person in the village who had recognized him. Raul had seen a few familiar faces on the streets but not one had shown him any signs of recognition.
It gave him a warm glow, being recognized... a feeling he was sure would not last.
He gazed down into the steaming cup, his thoughts as black as the coffee as the past crept back to him. With a sigh, he let his thoughts spiral back...
It seemed such a long time ago, so long ago that it could easily have happened to someone else. He'd never really known a home life. All he could remember was the stench of cheap cognac and the constant drunken bickering of his parents. When they were killed in the accident, all he had felt was relief. They'd gotten especially drunk and gone for a wild ride around the lake, and their car went over a high bluff and into the water. If the accident hadn't been observed, it might have been weeks, even months before the bodies and the car were discovered.
Raul was an only child, and there were no known relatives. Even at the age of ten, he seriously thought of leaving the village. His parents had been village pariahs, and he had already felt the scorn in the eyes of the other inhabitants.
He probably would have left, if Denise's father, Georges Genet, hadn't taken him in and cared for him. And when Raul finished school, Genet gave him a job in the bank. Raul didn't think it too great a favor, considering the work he'd done to earn his keep at the Genet home. He'd paid his way by gardening, doing repair work around the house, growing and learning at the same time.
He'd come to think that nothing Genet did for him was any great favor, for it had soon dawned on him that he was little more than a houseboy, or a yardboy, since the big house was full of servants to perform the indoor chores.
Raul never did figure out why Genet gave him the job behind a teller's window. The only reason he could advance was Genet's conscience. He had gotten eight years of hard labor out of the boy at the cost of a room over the stable, board, clothes, and a few Francs spending money.
Not that Raul wasn't glad to get the job. It beat hell out of painting gutters and repairing plumbing and so on. Not only was he happy to be working in the bank, but he found that he had a flair for figures and an abiding respect for money, even other people's.
For the son of the town drunks, Raul thought he was doing quite well. He knew most of the year-round residents of the village, got to know their problems and their reliability or lack of it. He had an acute sense of economics and, for his youth, a profound insight into character. Even the old man listened, in time, to his opinions about loans to the small businessmen of the village.
Then one June Denise came home from school for her summer vacation, and she was no longer the awkward brat who had tagged at his heels while he worked around the Genet estate. Overnight, it seemed to Raul that she had blossomed to womanhood, and she was quite a flower with her slim, shapely body, the big jutting titties and the well rounded ass.
Raul was still living in the small apartment over the stable and performing weekend chores in lieu of rent. He was making good money now, and had long ago lost his virginity. Sensitive about his background, acutely aware that the villagers were watching him closely to see if he would follow in his parents' reeling footsteps, he was very careful in the village, never even risking a beer in the local bistro. And certainly he'd never made a pass at a village girl. For booze and his sex, he took a bus to the city and prowled Paris for his cunt.
But now, literally under his nose, was a piece he couldn't ignore. He tried, but his nights were tormented with erotic dreams of Denise writhing in passion in his arms, her snatch eager for his touch.
He would awake sweat-soaked and throbbing. And although she had never been in side the apartment, he could have sworn he smelled her subtle perfume. Night after night he rolled on the bed in an agony of desire, and now and then he would have to jerk himself off to go to sleep. He would have to grab his pulsating peter and work it off, ejaculating to ease his desires.
The second week Denise was home, her father left on a two-week business trip. And the first Sunday he was gone, Denise invited Raul on a picnic.
She packed a basket lunch and they went in her car to a small mountain lake. The lake was on private property, and they had it all to themselves. It was a warm day, and the water looked inviting.
Denise spread a checkered tablecloth on the grassy bank and started to set out sandwiches, deviled eggs and stuffed celery sticks. She wore a wide skirt and a peasant blouse with a low, scalloped neckline which showed off the upper swells of her full, creamy breasts. As she set the lunch, Raul could see deep into the shadowy vale between her tits. And when she turned, still bent over the skirt drew taut across her trim buttocks and he could see the lines of her panties. He lay down on his back behind her, and as she bent farther he caught a glimpse of the delightful thighs, far up.
He felt a powerful surge, an urgent throbbing. His prick swelled into rigidity inside his pants.
He jumped to his feet. "Let's take a swim before we eat, Denise. That lake looks good to me."
"But I didn't bring a suit."
"Neither did I, but who cares? You said this was private property. Who's to see but us? " He grinned. "I'm going in anyway." He began to remove his shirt.
She looked at him wide-eyed. "Raul. We can't go swimming in the nude?
"Can't we? I can." His tone made it a dare.
Without waiting for an answer or looking at her again, he stepped out of his trousers. In his shorts, he raced to the lake and cut the water in a shallow dive. He swam out a few yards before he turned back, treading water. She was standing at the water's edge, staring out at him.
He called out, "Come on in, the water's fine."
The lake was about a hundred yards wide. He swam halfway before he paused to look back again. In that time she had stripped to panties and bra, and her hands were behind her back at the bra catch. She looked out at him. Now she had her fingers hooked in the elastic of the pink panties. He held his breath. Would she or wouldn't she?
Then she flung back her head. The sound of her laughter reached him across the water. Still in the panties, she ran into the water, her big bare tits jiggling up and down wildly, and with long, smooth strokes she swam toward him.
He knew that the panties, thoroughly soaked, would hide her cunt no more than a wisp of cobweb. For that matter, his cock and balls would be quite visible through his soaked shorts. He began to look forward to the time when they would leave the water.
She swam to within a few yards of him, then raised her head to say, "This is marvelous."
She was an excellent swimmer, and he found it hard to keep up with her. As her lithe body flashed through the water, he caught rhythmic glimpses of her gleaming breasts right, then left, then right again, her strokes an erotic ballet. Finally he got close enough to see that her big nipples were swollen and taut.
Then she turned and struck out in a straight line for the shore. He swam after her, and began to gain on her. Later he realized she had swum slower so he could overtake her.
When he was close enough to touch her, he took a deep breath and went under, propelling himself forward with a mighty kick. He rolled onto his back and looked up. She had slowed to a float. She was fanning her legs wide now, her thighs lazily closing, opening, closing, her golden cunt hairs very obvious through the sodden panties.
The panties concealed nothing. He rose toward her, one hand reaching to cup her crotch, feeling the crinkly bush and the pussy lips part.
Denise convulsed, thrashing the water wildly, as he grasped her twat.
Dropping a leg, he could feel the ground under his feet. He planted himself firmly and reared up, catching her around the waist, hefting and bringing her against him. When they broke water, it came midway on his chest, and her bare breasts were level with his face.
Denise's arms went around his neck. "Oh, Raul." He nuzzled first one, then the other gleaming, hard-nippled teat. The nipples were smooth, water-slick. They excited him tremendously.
A sigh came from Denise, and her legs scissored his waist. She rubbed her cunt again his swollen cock, pushing the front of his soaked shorts. Her mouth was open, her head back, and now a constant moaning came from her. When he let her slip slowly down in his arms, she found his mouth and they sank below the surface, mouths glued together. The kiss went on and on, until Raul feared his lungs would burst for lack of air.
Finally they broke the surface again, both laughing and gasping. She came back into his arms eagerly, and he crushed his mouth on hers, probing the sweet cave with his tongue as her vulva burned against his scorching prick.
For a while they cavorted in the water, playful as seals, splashing, ducking and tickling one another. Then it turned serious. It had been serious for Raul ever since he had seen her nearly naked on the lake'sedge, but she had seemed in a playful mood and he had gone along. But now she grew heavylidded, and her breathing was loud, labored in passion.
A moment before, unseen by Denise, Raul had slipped out of his shorts and let them float away. Her eyes widened and she gasped at the view of his huge, scarlet cock curving outward and upward from his bush. She tried to jerk away, but he had a firm grip on her.
"Raul, I don't think...I didn't intend for this to happen."
He felt like asking what she had expected, but instead he pulled her more firmly to his naked cock and balls and ground his mouth on hers. She struggled for a moment, but then the fight went out of her and she sagged weakly against him.
Without breaking the kiss, he reached between them and hooked his fingers in her panties. They tore like wet paper, and she made only a token protest. Her belly flesh was slippery to his touch. He felt her shiver as he caressed her bared pussy lips.
"Are you cold?"
She pressed her thighs together, but as he persisted gently, she relaxed and opened her thighs so his fingers could penetrate her vagina. "Kiss me, darling. Kiss me."
Their love play had brought Raul dangerously far; he knew he couldn't wait much longer before he would shoot his wad and cream all over her bare belly. Without taking his mouth from hers, he reached behind her, grasped her ass-cheeks and lifted her, moving her down, down...Then he leaned back ever so little and drove his hips forward, and his jutting prick plowed into her hot, velvety cunt.
"No, Raul. Not like this. You don't understand. I'm..."
She tried to fling herself away, but she was too late. He had his cock half way inside her.
She whimpered pitifully in his ear with each jolt, but Raul was past the point of caring, his only interest was to bury his throbbing prick all the way up her twat.
It was weird. It was fantastic. The water tugged at them, and their wet bodies slipped and slid like eels, as his huge organ worked furiously inside of her. As his ecstasy began, it was as if a volcanic tidal wave carried him high and brought him crashing down, again and again. He groaned aloud. He surged, pulling her, violent against him and shuddering wildly, as his pulsating prick ejected his sperm, flooding her hot, tight cunt.
At last the strength went out of his legs and he sank slowly beneath the water. He floated near the bottom until he finally found strength enough to surface.
Denise was splashing toward shore. He stumbled after her, caught her arm and helped her. They reached the grassy bank and fell together, side by side fighting for breath.
Finally Denise stirred. "That was the first time I'd ever fucked with a boy...ever."
"What." He reared up to stare at her. It was hard to believe, but, as he looked at her he knew it was true. He felt a flush of shame. It shouldn't have happened to her like this. Not the first time.
Then male pride surged through him. For she was, without a doubt, his very first virgin.
Denise said shyly. "I'm glad it was you, Raul."
"You know something? So am I." He laughed suddenly, joyously, and sat up. "You know something else. I'm starving."
Naked and unbothered by it, they ate every morsel Denise had brought in the basket. Then they shook the crumbs out of the tablecloth and spread it over them to prevent sunburn. She slept, her hot, soft titties and belly curled tight against him, her breath warm and sweet on his cheek.
Some time later, Raul was awakened by gently urging hands upon his half-erect cock. At first he thought he was back in the apartment dreaming of Denise again. Then he heard her giggle, and saw her sparkling eyes. It was a simple matter to roll over without disturbing the tablecloth. She didn't let go of him until the last possible second.
This time it was much better, though he wouldn't have thought it possible. Her re sponse was immediate. Her legs opened wide for him, and his prick thrust into her wet, warm cunt quite easily -to the hilt. His balls bumped against the hairs of her completely filled pussy lips, and she went utterly wild long before he reached his peak.
After that, Raul no longer had to dream of Denise being in his room. She was there at every opportunity, and the small room was filled always with the rich, female scent of her. Or, they would go for night rides in his old car and fuck in the bushes.
One thing troubled him. He had worked at the bank for three years. He felt he was settled in. He loved Denise and she loved him. He wanted to go to her father and tell him he loved his daughter. He wanted to get married. But Denise put him off. She loved him and she wanted to marry him, but not just yet. Her father wanted her to finish her schooling before she thought of marriage, and she had two years to go.
Raul suspected the truth, that Genet didn't want his daughter marrying the son of the village drunks. He suspected, but he didn't want to face up to it. And Denise swore on her heart and soul that she didn't care one sou who his parents were, and he believed her.
Then the thing happened that tore it wide open.
Edouard Lefevre had come to work at the bank eighteen months after Raul. Now there came an opening right below the position of head teller, who was himself due to retire soon. Raul had every right and reason to expect the job, but Genet promoted Edouard over Raul's head. This made it clear that Lefevre, not Raul would be in the position for the head teller's job when it opened.
It was too much.
Raul stormed into Genet's office demanding to know why he had been bypassed. Genet told him, coldly and unemotionally. He knew Denise had been seeing Raul, and it was his hope that she would soon lose interest. In the event she didn't it would be up to Raul to see that she did. Or soon he wouldn't have a job to worry about, much less a promotion.
Brashly, Raul defied him. He told Genet he loved Denise and intended to marry her. It was then that Genet stood, his thin face cold with contempt, and confirmed Raul's darkest suspicions.
"I will never see my daughter married to you. Your parents were trash. I felt sorry for you, and I thought -as young as you were -that a good home would straighten you out. That's why I gave you a job in my bank, too, and I was pleased that you did well. But like father, like son. Blood will always tell. You're trash too, chasing after my daughter behind my back."
Genet was at least forty years older than Raul, which saved him from a beating. But Raul did tell him what he thought of him.
Five minutes later he left the office and the bank. He no longer had a job.
He went in search of Denise, found her sunning herself on the boat dock below the house. In a skimpy bikini, she was as lovely as ever -so lovely his throat ached at the intimate parts of her he knew so well, and it was almost impossible for him to say what he had to tell her.
When he'd blurted out the essentials: "You told Papa." A look of dismay swept her face.
"He knows all about us. Your being seduced by the son of the village drunks didn't seem to bother him too much..." He let the bitterness show in his voice, "...but when I told him we intended to marry, he really flipped."
"You didn't tell him that." Her hand went to her mouth.
"Why not? You said you wanted to marry me."
"But not now, Raul. You should have waited." He reached for her hand. "Denise, I've made up my mind. I'm leaving this place, and I want you to go with me."
"I can't." She tore her hand away. "I can't just walk away and leave Papa and everything. Not just like that. Don't you see?"
"No. I don't see. I love you, and I want you with me."
Her gaze fell away. There was something here he didn't understand.
"Denise.pleasetell me what's troubling you."
"Edouard asked me to marry him yesterday." She didn't look at him. "He talked to Papa first, and he thought it was a fine idea. He thinks an awful lot of Edouard."
"Edouard? Lefevre?" He started to laugh, then choked it off. His voice was cold with fury when he went on. "And you, Denise? Do you think a lot of Edouard?"
Her eyes were tortured, uncertain. "Ididn't say I'd marry him. I didn't even say I would consider it. But I can't just run off with you, Raul. Where on earth would we go? What would we do?"
"We'll manage. The important thing is that we'll be together."
"That's romantic nonsense, Raul. It's like something out of a cinema. The world doesn't work that way."
He stared at her. He knew it was now or never. He had to reach a decision. He said, "For the last time, Denise...I'm leaving. Are you going with me or not?"
Her head went back. Her features assumed the look of defiance he'd seen but once or twice before. "No, Raul, I'm not. If you leave here now, you leave alone."
He had turned on his heel and strode away without another wcrd.
He'd caught the next train out of town.
For five years he had drifted. He learned bartending. A good bartender can get a job anywhere. Now and then he had word from the village. He learned that Lefevre married Denise and he learned of Genet's heart attack and shortly after of his death.
Right or wrong, Raul blamed the village for being unlucky in love and for not having become someone with real status in life. At the very least, the village, as represented by Genet, should have sent a boy with his brains to college instead of turning him into a flunky for his room and board. His resentment made him dream of revenging himself on the whole damn village for his lost love and his lost future.
And the net result was the planned robbery of the bank. He would despoil it of its money, just as he had despoiled Denise of her maidenhead -and her virtue.
He would fuck the village, as it had shafted him -and as he had screwed the only attractive -and unattainable cunt in it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Raul decided to accept Denise's invitation to the party. He was curious to see the sumptuous place that should have been his if Denise were his wife. It would be a particularly sweet morsel of satisfaction to hump a more than willing Denise right under Lefevre's nose.
As he approached the former estate, nothing seemed to have changed much. Off to the right was the garage with the small apartment over it. There was no light in the apartment. Raul wondered if anybody lived there now.
He paused on the outside and looked through the window into the brilliantly lighted living room. He recognized a few of the people there, and wondered how his presence would strike them.
He was sure that most of them shared the late Genet's opinion: Blood will always tell. Like father, like son. It was too bad they would never know that Raul was, in Roger's words, the 'brains' of the impending bank robbery. That would really confirm their opinion of him.
The room's center had been cleared and the rug rolled back to permit dancing. Raul saw Mareaux, the village mayor, and his plump wife out on the floor. They resembled two fat sausages being jerked like puppets on strings. Peronel, the village chief of police was dancing with a middle-aged woman Raul vaguely remembered.
Raul entered the room quietly and took up a position near the door, his back to the wall. Like the old American western gunfighters, he thought sardonically; never turn your back on a roomful of people.
He felt, rather than saw someone move up beside him. A voice said, "Well, Raul, I hardly expected to see you here."
He looked around into the cool blue eyes of Alain Despres, editor of the village newspaper. Despres was in his late fifties and was an outsider. He'd worked for a number of big-city papers before he had saved enough money to purchase the village paper some years ago. He was one of the few people in the village Raul had liked and respected.
"Hello, Alain." Raul took the hand Despres extended. "I couldn't very well turn down the only invitation I'd received from my old friends."
Alain laughed. "You did better than I to get an invitation. I just crashed, in hopes of picking up a few items for the paper.
"Such as what?"
"Oh -who gets loaded; who vomits on whom, whose wife it is that gets laid, and by whose husband."
"They haven't changed very much then, have they?"
"Not so you'd notice," Alain said drily.
"You'd really print all that?"
"Mon Dieu, no. I quote: 'A fine time was had by all at Denise Lefevre's party.' "
Raul turned slightly and let his glance roam the room. Against a far wall a small bar had been set up. Most of the people were collected around it, and among them he saw Denise and Edouard, whose face was flushed. Apparently he was well on his way to getting smashed. He wore an expensive dark Italian silk suit. Denise was in a white cocktail dress that billowed and swirled about her fine thighs as she moved.
"Edouard looks as though he's been living pretty high on the hog these days."
"From what I hear, the hog's damn near eaten up." Alain said with a sly laugh. "At least as fair as Denise is concerned. But you wouldn't know, about that, I suppose?"
Before he could answer, Raul received a whack on the back that sent him reeling into Despres, and a big voice boomed, "Raul, you old fish."
Raul straightened up to find Charles Peronel ready to give him another smack.
"Charles." He wrung the police officer's hand.
They had gone through school together, and if Raul had any close friend in the village, it had been Peronel. He was a big man, well over six feet, with a cheerful, horsey countenance. The years had fattened him, but he looked more slow-moving and amiable than ever.
"Why haven't you been in to see me?" He demanded. "You've been back in town for a week or more."
Raul finally pulled his hand free from the iron grip. "I've been meaning to, Charles." He threw a playful punch at the man's big belly. "I see that gut of yours hasn't shrunk any too much."
Charles chuckled. "You know me and the bottle. I've even got an icebox in the office these days. Drop around and we'll uncap a few."
All at once Raul knew that he would take up the offer. The last piece of his plan fell into place. Tuesday morning, while Roger and Lamar were busy at the bank, he would be in Peronel's office drinking wine. He would be there when the police chief got the word. What better alibi could a man ask for.
Suddenly, close to his ear: "Raul, I didn't think you were ever coming."
He looked around at Denise. Dimly he heard Charles say, "I'll see you then, Raul," and he sensed the men moving away, leaving him alone with Denise. A room packed with people, yet they were alone, strangely alone.
The music from the stereo had a wild cadence, almost an erotic beat. The couples on the floor were waving and pressing, breasts and loins pressing closely together. As Denise led him to the floor, she kicked away her shoes.
"This one is only for you, darling," she said softly.
She snapped her fingers and picked up the beat of the music. She raised her arms high, the position lifting her marvelous titties until Raul feared they would pop out of the lowcut dress. Then she began.
With lips parted, the pink tip of her tongue darted in and out. She brought her hands all the way down her sides, then moving them, fingers spread over her pelvis, she performed a lascivious bump. Her gaze never left him. She followed the bump with a rolling grind, making her almost exposed breasts dance on their own. She ran her fingers to her hair, lifting it above her head, then gathered it into a knot on top. She executed several expert bumps and grinds, her titties heaving one way, her full rounded behind, another. All the time she looked hypnotically into his eyes.
He wondered where she had learned to dance like this. The demure Denise he had known wouldn't have known how -or if she had she wouldn't have had the boldness to dance this way in public. But five years is a long time, and Raul knew that even he had changed.
Suddenly he was aware of a slow withdrawal around them. The couples were pulling back to watch. There were low appreciative calls from the men and whispered comments from the women. Raul stepped close to Denise and caught her hand.
"Slow it down, baby," he whispered as he drew her off to one side.
"Why did you stop me? I was just getting warmed up."
"Every penis at the party is getting warmed up, too." He glanced past her and saw Edouard approaching. "All but your husband. I'd say he's warmed up but not quite the same way."
"That was a cheap and vulgar exhibition, Denise."
Calmly, without change of expression, she stuck out her tongue at him. Edouard reddened furiously. Without thinking, Raul began to laugh.
Edouard whirled on him, his eyes narrowing until they nearly disappeared in folds of fat. "How much longer are you going to be around, LePlaise?"
Raul quelled an urge to slam his fist into the fat face. Instead he said bluntly, "I certainly appreciate your concern, Edouard, and I know that if I do decide to stay, I can count on you for any help I need."
Edouard's plump cheeks quivered with outrage. He said, "After what you did to my wife, I don't see how you had the nerve to come back. I should think you'd be ashamed-"
"What I did to her." Raul felt his temper boil. Denise's hand descended gently on his arm and he subsided. She said, "Come along, Raul. Let him stew in his own bitterness."
He went with her. Looking back, his anger lessened as he saw how apt her description had been. Lefevre in his rage did indeed look like a stewpot about to boil. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet as he glared after them in frustration.
The small bar was, for the moment, deserted. Denise went behind it and Raul leaned on the end, watching her mix drinks.
He said, "Why does he put up with that kind of treatment from you? Why doesn't he...?"
She looked up with a wry smile. "Whack me around? He wouldn't dare. Besides, he's deathly afraid I'll get angry enough to leave and get an annulment. He cannot have children. Oh, he'd like to catch me screwing another man, so he'd have a hold over me, but if it ever comes to a separation, he'll have to give an accounting of the estate."
"Well, that shouldn't present any problem for him." Larry took the drink she held out.
"Other people's money, yes. But when it comes to his own, he's a dimwit. He's gone through most of what Papa left me. I don't want to talk about him. Not now." She glanced around the room, then took his hand from the bar and drew it down, pressing it against her snatch. He could feel the curly crisp ness of the pussy hairs as she rubbed it against his hand. "Since last night I've thought of nothing but you, Raul," she continued in a throbbing whisper. "Let's go where you can put your darling shaft into my cunt and where I can feel your hot sperm in my body."
Raul pulled his hand away reluctantly. "I'm for that, baby, but I fail to see how we can manage it right now."
"Darling, remember the boathouse? We can go there."
Raul looked around the room again. Edouard was talking with two men. From the way it looked, he would be occupied for some time. Then he saw Peronel approaching the bar.
"We can't get away now," he said.
"I'll go out the back way," Denise murmured quickly. "I'll wait for you in the boathouse. Get away when you can. But please hurry."
She was gone so quickly that Raul doubted that Peronel had noticed her. "Well, Raul, drinking alone?" he said in his low bellow. "Pour us both a good drink.?
Raul poured him a generous drink. Then he pulled out a cigar, unwrapped it and lit it. Under cover of activity, he raked the room with his eyes. Denise had indeed disappeared.
Edouard was still talking.
"Excuse me a second, Charles. I see someone I want a word with."
He clapped the big man on the shoulder and made his way slowly through the dancers until he was sure Peronel could no longer see him. Then he dodged mt the door, hurrying along the veranda and started for the boathouse.
He went along the lake's edge. He tossed his cigar into the water, watching until the spinning red coal was dovsed, then went into a room at the rear of the boathouse proper, a small area used for storage.
"Denise?"
"Over here, darling. And close the door; you're making a draft."
The room was pitch black. He moved toward her voice, the scent of her perfume. He stumbled over things, cursed aloud. The low sound of her laughter guided him. Then his hand encountered the webbing of a deck chair, and his fingers brushed bare skin, moved down and found more bare skin, plus some curly, silky hair which could be only an eager cunt yearning for his prick.
"Ooooh. Your hands feel like ice." she cried. "Here darling, give them to me and I'll warm them." She took his hands and pressed them between her breasts, crossed her arms and squeezed. Her flesh was soft and warm and resilient. "Ah, that's better. They're warming right up."
She groped for and found his mouth in the dark. Hers was hot and sweet, flavored with liquor. She darted her tongue in and out of his month.
Then he felt her hands fumbling about at his belt. "Wait, now. I can do that."
"But darling. I've got a head start on you," she said thickly.
For the first time, he realized she was a little drunk. That could explain her earlier behavior. He pulled away, "I could do with some light."
"Whatever you want, you're going to have to find in the dark." She caught his hands again, rubbing them between her legs and high up along her cunny lips which parted moistly. "Please, darling, I want everything just like it was the other time."
Women and their romantic notions, he thought with mild irritation always wanting to relive the good moments of the past.
He began removing his clothes. Completely naked now, he started for the chair again, bumping his shin sharply. He swore aloud.
He felt young as springtime as his hands brushed her big breasts, moving across the velvet plain of her stomach and to her thighs then down between them to 'the moist opening of her honey snatch. She was astraddle the chair, one leg on each side. He slid his hands together and grasped her heaving cunt-lips.
She cried out sharply as though in actual pain. Her legs came up, thighs closing like a vise upon his pussy-titillating fingers. At the same time her arms looped around his neck.
"Mon Dieu, Raul, you can't know how I've missed you...how I've missed this. You think Edouard could make love to me like this. If you can call his little half-limp prick shooting three or four weak drops of semen in my cunt making love. If you only knew how many times I've lain awake and cursed myself for not going away with you. Forgive me, darling. And don't ever leave me again."
He grunted. "The way I am now, I'm not in much a position to go anywhere."
She tightened her arms around his neck. Already overbalanced, he tumbled on to her soft nakedness, and for a moment they were a tangle of thrashing limbs. Then somehow -he was never sure just how she managed it -he was sitting in the chair and Denise was straddling him, her hot palpitating cunt sliding down his outthrusting organ in silken tightness.
There was one thing he knew for sure: She was just as agile, if not more so, as she had been five years ago.
"She said gleefully. "Now I've got you." She slid her hot slick pussy up and down along his burning prong.
Even as she spoke, she raised herself just far enough, then shimmied down, down... In a burning grasp, her vaginal muscles contracted hard around his inserted shaft.
Slowly, Denise began to grind her thighs and buttocks, resting her hands around his shoulders and bracing her body with each lifting writhe of her hot snatch. As Raul felt the passionate warmth of her womanly heat, the upward thrust of his peter made Denise gasp with pleasure. She massaged his chest with her breasts. Her belly and buttocks churned furiously, her thighs riding his piercing lunges as if his lust were a bucking bronco she had to saddle-break.
He groaned, "This is better than ever, darling."
He convulsed into one final lunge, clutching her buttock cheeks to bring her vagina fully on his spurting cock as completely as pos sible. Denise screamed happily as she felt his volcanic surging into cresting joy. Her hips and buttocks shook with wild spasms as her body thrilled into joining Raul's fiery-peak.
When she stopped biting his shoulder, she panted into his ear, "We were made to love each other -don't ever leave me again, Raul darling."
CHAPTER SIX
It had been quite a fuck -a hard, hot, thrilling, throbbing ride with the finish a flood of lava-like spurts of semen which bathed her cunt from lips to uterus, the overflow running down and out of her happily pierced pussy, down on his balls and even reaching his anus. When his sated prick shrunk and slipped out of her cunny, Raul wondered that the chair hadn't shattered into bits.
Denise slid off his lap and rummaging in his trousers, pulled out his cigarettes and lit up for both of them. Then she sat down on his lap again as they relaxed and watched the glowing tips of their butts, as her own ass pressed, hot and soft on his thigh flesh.
The overhead light suddenly went on, freezing them as they were. Then, as they saw the yelling, outraged Edouard coming toward them, Raul sprang out of the chair. The naked and trembling Denise quickly ducked behind him for protection.
Raul would have sworn the little guy wouldn't have the guts to attack. So it was unexpected and he was caught completely off guard.
He took the full force of Edouard's headlong plunge in his midsection, and it knocked the breath from him. He was sent flying backward into Denise, taking her along, and the three of them landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs. Raul fought his way to his feet first.
Edouard looked up dazedly, shaking his head. Then he saw Raul standing over him. With a roar, he pushed Denise off, and scrambled clumsily to his feet.
Prepared this time, Raul laughed and stepped nimbly aside. When Edouard went hurtling past, bent far over, Raul turned just enough to plant a solid kick on the man's backside. The force of the kick sent Edouard slamming headlong into the wall. He grunted, bounced off and crumpled to a heap on the floor.
Edouard didn't move. He was out cold.
Raul turned to Denise, who was scrambling into her clothes. "Come on, Denise, let's get the hell out of here and out of this town. You can get a divorce in Paris."
He was astonished to hear the words spilling from his mouth. To his further amazement, he knew he meant every word. He was willing to drop everything, forget about the holdup and go away with her immediately.
Half dressed, she paused to stare at him. "I can't get a divorce, Raul. Not now. Not just yet."
"You must do something." He glared at her in disbelief. He had the eerie feeling he was reliving the past. "Denise, I'm asking you to go away with me. Right now."
" I can't leave without settling things first, Raul. Can't you see that?" she wailed. Besides, there's no reason for us to leave, and I have so many things-"
Not again. He'd heard these very words from her before.
"It's just like it was before, isn'titDenise?" he spat bitterly.
"No, it isn't. It's not the same at all."
"It is to me. I asked you to go with me then. You wouldn't. I'm asking you again. You refuse again."
He turned away abruptly and started out.
She called after him. "Raul, don't go like this. You don't understand."
He didn't wait. He strode out. Outside, he lit a cigar as he walked along the lake toward the village. In his rage, he almost was running.
Halfway to the village, he changed his mind and struck off in the direction of the cabin. There was a full moon, and its light drifted down through the trees to illuminate his path. He had no real excuse for going to the cabin, unless it was merely to sit and listen to Roger yarn about the old days and his career as a con man. Yet somehow Raul felt he owed the man an apology for even momentarily considering betraying him. And for what? For the hot-pussied broad who had made a fool out of him again.
Raul had met him in a small bistro in Marseilles. Roger Lesseps had exuded prosperity. He was in his early sixties, faultlessly groomed, each iron-gray lock in place, barbered to perfection, his linen spotless. He was short and stocky, with strong evidence of high living on his smooth features.
He had ordered the most expensive cognac in the bar, and when Raul served him, he said, "Have one yourself, lad."
Raul rarely drank with the patrons, but there was something about this one -a subtle charm, and an expensive amiability that intrigued him.
After that drink, Raul got to know a lot about the man. Roger was a man of varied talents. Early in life, he had discovered a flair for fleecing women of their money as a gigolo and a stud who was virile in his servicing of the fat cunts of big titted lovestarved matrons. And although he no longer confined his talents exclusively to that field, he did well enough at it to live high.
At the time, Raul had wondered why the con man revealed so much about himself on such short acquaintance. Later he realized there had been an instant rapport between them. And it was probably that Roger had sensed that Raul himself was ripe for a criminal caper.
Later that evening in Raul's hotel room over a bottle, Raul had learned Roger's real problem. His last three attempts at fleecing women had fallen flat. He could no longer get it up, and without a hard, potent prick, he could no longer satisfy the middleaged pussies of the women. Since he couldn't get his shaft stiff enough to enter the snatches all he could do was to substitute by sticking his tongue up the ample cuts, but even this could not go on forever.
Although never honest with a mark, Roger was always honest with himself. He told
Raul what he had diagnosed as his trouble. He was impotent. Screwing wasn't considered an important asset for a confidence man, but Roger thought differently. To him, sexual prowess was like a perfume. A woman could literally sniff it out. And any odor of potency Roger had once possessed was now gone.
As sometimes happens with men, an instant affection sprang up between them. Before the night was over -or the day, since they talked far into the next morning -Raul told Roger of his scheme to rob the village bank.
And Roger had seized on the plan eagerly. He saw it as a last big score, a final grandiloquent coup. Roger had never committed a crime of overt force, but he knew most of the pitfalls through talking with heist artists over the years. And Raul's plan had many things going for it. In the first place, Raul had a mind for organization, almost military in its precision and scope. With his years of employment in the bank, he was the next best thing to an inside man.
The pair spent months going over and over the plan. During that time Raul quit his job and the two moved to Paris, where Raul had met Gaby. There they polished the plan until it glittered in their minds like a fine diamond.
by the time Raul left, a strong bond of affection had developed between them, something in the nature of a father-son relationship. Roger had never sired a child, and Raul had certainly felt little affection for his true father. In fact, it had been Roger's suggestion that they leave the country together afterward. It was his intention to retire from crime; there would be enough money to last him the rest of his life. Raul had purchased three plane tickets, and as soon as it was safe to leave the village, the three of them would fly to South America.
The sharp crack of a gun jarred Raul from his reverie. He was a few yards from the cabin. He paused and listened. Another shot was fired, the-sound coming from the direction of the cabin. If it was that creep, Lamar...
He moved cautiously to the edge of the clearing before the cabin. There, in a bright pool of moonlight, Roger sat on the cabin's steps. In his hand he held a gun.
At the sound of his footsteps, Roger looked up. "Raul, mon ami, I'm glad to see you."
Raul sat down on the steps "What were those shots?"
Roger hefted the revolver. "I bought this. Just for show, of course. In my entire criminal career, I've never used a gun. I'd never even held one in my hand before. Now I'm fascinated. Perhaps I've had an undeveloped talent all these years and didn't know it. With a gun in my hand, I'm a different person, ten feet tall and virile a cock as Don Juan. What do you make of it?"
"I don't know, Roger. Just be damn careful with that gun. That's all we need, for you to be picked up for carrying a gun without a permit."
"Paul, is teaching me to use it," said Roger, continuing as though he hadn't heard. "Ittook me a while, and a lot of wasted ammunition, but I'm finally getting the hang. I killed three squirrels today."
Raul stiffened. "You what? That's against the law. Don't you know you're putting our whole plan in jeopardy with this damn fool kid stuff?"
Raul knew he couldn't take the gun away without risking a quarrel and a rift between them at this late stage was the last thing he wanted. He placed a hand on Roger's shoulder. "Just be careful, Roger," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm going back to town."
"Aren't you going in to see Gaby? She'll be disappointed-"
"Just don't mention my being here." Raul gazed down into the face and said firmly, "And keep that pop gun out of sight." "All right, lad." Roger also stood up, shoving the gun into his trouser pocket. "See you, Roger." Raul started back down the slope, to his hotel.
He was crossing the lobby, head down, deep in thought, when he bumped into somebody. Yvette Moreau. "Yvette. I'm sorry. I didn't see you."
She pouted under his gaze and cupped her right breast in both hands, projecting it toward him in erotic offering. Then she rubbed the palm of one hand gently over it in a circular motion. "You bumped me pretty good." She had her back to the desk, and except for the clerk there, they were alone in the lobby, so her gesture had not needed to be subtle.
"I'm sorry. Just getting off work?"
She nodded.
He remembered the boathouse and Denise, and her rejection of his plea to leave with him. And here was Yvette with her big, soft tits, the lush rounded ample belly and hips, the voluptuous behind. Yvette, with a snatch obviously eager to captivate his long cock. A real gift...
It would serve Denise right.
He said, "I have a bottle in my room. A couple of belts should ease the pain." He reached out and placed his forefinger on the large soft teat she said he had bumped. He felt the nipple stir under his finger.
Her eyes brightened, and she caught his hand, pressing it full against the heaving hot tit. "That's the best offer I've had all night.
She linked arms with him, and they went up the stairs. At nearly every step her breast brushed his arm. He led her down the hall to his room and flung the door wide. "Welcome to the LePlaise flop, doll, such as it is."
She strolled to the center of the room while he flipped on the lights. He went into the bathroom for the glasses and then took a bottle from the dresser drawer, and poured two generous drinks.
"Would you like some water?"
"That will be fine, Raul. And here, let me do it." She took the glasses and went into the bathroom. On the way back she kicked off the shoes she was wearing. "If you don't mind..."
"Make yourself comfortable." She handed him a glass and dropped onto the edge of the bed. When she crossed her slender legs, the nylon dress rode well above the knees. She didn't even make a token effort to pull it down.
She eyed him thoughtfully over the rim of the glass. "I never thought you'd take a second look at me, Raul. From what I hear, you've got a thing going with Denise Lefevre -or did once."
"Once is the word. Once but no more." He took a pull of his drink, set the glass down and took her by the shoulders, hauling her to her feet. She was small; the top of her head came just to his chin. Small and neat, a well-put-together piece of ass.
He lowered his mouth. A tasty hump.
She pulled away to set her glass beside his. Then she turned and seemed to leap into his arms. She lifted her piquant face and opened her lips, revealing small, even, white teeth.
Raul pulled her against him and brought his mouth down on hers again. She accepted the probing of his tongue. Her mouth was steamy. Her hands crawled up to the back of his head and she pressed his mouth down hard, until their teeth ground together.
He backed her up until the backs of her knees met the bed. He started to push her down.
"Wait. Wait a minute. I'll muss my uniform."
She slipped out of his arms and stood to one side while she worked on the line of buttons running the length of the uniform. She let the dress slide off her creamy shoulders, folded it neatly across a nearby chair. A half slip followed, leaving her in a half-cup bra, garter belt and hose. The bra held her full breasts like a pair of hands.
When he started for her again, she danced away to the other side of the bed, laughing.
"What 's the hurry, lover?"
He stopped short, a growl coming from his throat. "What are you, a damned cockteaser?"
Her eyes widened and she laughed again. Then she became serious. "No, I may be many things, but that I'm not. You'll learn that before the night's over. But..." She wrinkled her nose... "I'm all sweaty and smelly from hustling trays for eight hours. I need a shower." She smiled, head tilted to one side. "Don't you want me clean and smelling sweet all over ?"
She wheeled toward the bathroom without waiting for his reply. At the door she faced around, whipping off the bra. The coral nipples seemed to Raul like beckoning fingers.
Grinning, Raul crossed to the bed and picked up his drink, drained it, then poured another.
His glance shuttled to the bed, where only last night he had so ardently fucked the deliciously bodied Denise. And here he was, about to stick his hot cock in the even hotter snatch of another piece on that very same bed.
All at once he knew he couldn't do it.
Despite his anger at Denise, despite what he considered her betrayal, he still cared for her. He always had during the years away, and although he knew now that nothing could ever come of it, he would always love her.
So where did that leave him, with Yvette anticipating the thought that he was going to fuck her?
And idea struck him as he heard the roar of the shower. He downed the second drink and quickly removed all of his clothes. Then he strode to the bathroom door.
The bathroom was tiny, and already fogged with steam. There was a bathtub with a shower. Raul stepped to the tub and raised the curtain enough to peak in.
Yvette stood under the hot needle-spray with her feet planted wide apart, head back to keep her uncovered hair clear of the water, her eyes tightly shut. She had one arm crossed over her big breasts. In the other hand was a soapy washcloth she was moving over her flat belly in widening circles going lower with each sweep. There was a dreamy expression on her face as she began to lave her soaked cunt. She parted the lips and the washcloth slid up her box.
In one smooth motion, Raul glided in and pulled the curtain closed. At the same time he caught her hand and took the cloth from her.
Her eyes flew open and she cowered against the wall. "Raul. What are you...?"
"I was thinking," he said with a grin, "that there's no use one of us being sweet and clean if the other isn't."
He made a small circle with the washcloth, Her face went soft, her eyes going out of focus as she sagged against him.
He dropped the washcloth, putting a hand on each quivering haunch and backed her against the wall. Then he lifted her just far enough, surging his huge, steaming, water-dripping prick into her excited cunt with urgent force.
"Oooh. Ahhh." She writhed at the feel of his huge organ plunging into her wet passage.
She stiffened , then came alive. She laced her legs around his, locking her arms about his dripping neck and buried her face there, a fold of skin caught between her teeth. Her hips began to move with his, to work his surging, hard burning shaft in deeper, all the way into her vaginal tunnel. The hot spray pelted down on them. The stall became steamy as a tropical rainforest as they worked frantically toward culmination.
Release struck them at the same time. Raul groaned aloud and pinned Yvette to the wall almost brutally with his pusalting spear as he came. The head of his cock spurted. Her cunny couldn't hold all the load he was spewing in her passage, and the overflow ran out of the bottom of her cunt.
When Yvette had caught her breath, she looked up at him roguishly and said, "I didn't get to finish my shower somehow do you mind if I take a bath? I don't dare turn on the shower again with you around."
"Yeah, brings out the beast in me," he said sarcastically.
YVette slid her lithe young fuck-sated body into the bathtub as it filled with warm water. As she lathered her neck and shoulders, the bubbly whiteness of the soap and her abundant breasts floating delectably in the water was too exciting for him.
He stepped into the tub and sat himself down facing her. She grinned and began to soap his chest and shoulders. Looking down at his cock, she noticed a renewed pulsing lust. Raul heard her gleeful laugh and then he realized that her lips and mouth were a lot warmer than the bath water. He leaned back helplessly in the grip of her redheaded rhythm.
Then he suddenly contorted, and floundering with a great splashing like a beached whale, groaned happily as her mouth moistly sucked upon his huge, up-arching prick head bringing his hot sperm jetting down her throat.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Raul awoke, he stretched his naked body. He noticed he still had a hard-on and his big cock swayed above his naked belly. He suddenly wanted to shove it into Yvette's burning cunt or in her ass. He felt beside him for her, but she had already left. Probably wanted to be on time for her job, he thought.
Yvette's agile body had proven to be exceptionally well-developed in the places that appealed to Raul: her breasts were huge, yet not sloppily soft, with well-defined nipples and her buttocks were full, low slung and sexy. What he liked best of all was that she turned out to be a real, undyedredhead, down to her very bush.
Outside it was a fine day, just warm enough to be comfortable. He began to feel relaxed as he walked to the eatery where Yvette worked. He was hardly seated when she hurried up. She looked fresh as a spring flower and equally as good to look at.
"Raul, you're wanted on the phone." She slammed a menu down in front of him.
"It's Denise Lefevre."
He was startled."Denise? How in the world did she know I'd be here?"
Yvette smiled for the first time. "This is the village, Raul. There aren't many places you could be."
He sighed and got to his feet. "Yvette, get me an order of breakfast while I find out what's up."
"If you'd stayed in your room, you wouldn't have to worry about what's up, once she got to work on you," Yvette said tartly. "That's where she's calling from...your hotel."
Raul strode to the cashier's desk. He picked up the phone. "Yes." "Raul?" Denise's voice was low, tense. "What is it, Denise?"
"I want to talk to you, darling. Could we have breakfast together?"
Darling, was it? He laughed shortly. "I can afford the breakfast. The thing is, can you afford to risk your reputation?"
"Oh, darling, don't--" She broke off, then said evenly, "I'll be there in five minutes, Raul."
He returned to the booth, and Yvette came over promptly. "Do you want breakfast now, or would your rather wait for your guest to arrive?"
Raul was too bemused to pay much attention to her sarcastic tone. "Hold my breakfast, Yvette. Just bring me some coffee for now."
"Over, you said. Why's she coming here then, I'd like to know." She flounced off, angrily.
Raul lit a cigar and smoked reflectively while waiting for Yvette to bring his coffee. He was utterly mystified as to why Denise wanted to see him. After the way she'd rebuffed him last night, nothing she could say could possibly interest him.
Raul had finished the coffee and smoked the cigar down to a glowing stub before she came in. She wore dark glasses, and her somber dress, though chic and fashionable, indicated a bleak mood. She walked directly to Raul's booth and slipped in across from him.
Yvette came up. "Did you wish to order, Mrs. Lefevre?"
Denise kept her head down. "Just bring me whatever Mr. LePlaise is having."
Yvette went back to the kitchen, her plump, sexy rump swaying.
"Raul, I can't stand Edouard any longer." She raised her face and swept off the dark glasses.
"Mon Dieu, Denise." Impulsively Raul reached across the table. Her left eye was swollen and discolored, and there was a livid bruise high on her cheek. He touched the bruise with the tip of one finger. "Did that louse do that to you?"
She nodded. "There are other places, too. I left the boathouse before he came to, looking for you. After the party, he broke down my bedroom door and beat me. He was raging, almost out of his head."
"The swine. I'll cut his balls off." He made a fist and ground it on the table.
Denise reached across to catch his hand. She said softly, "Thank you for that, darling, but it doesn't matter that much."
"It does to me."
"No," she said quickly. "I hate him, Raul. I always have. But last night finished it. I can't stay with him any longer."
"Why couldn't you see it last night? It would have saved you the beating."
"Oh darling, I love you. I've always loved you. " She took his hand in both of hers.
"Does this mean you're going to leave him?"
"Yes. I'm going to leave him. But I'm not going to see him profit from it. That's what he wants, but I'm going to insist on an accounting of the estate. I don't intend to let my hate blind me to-"
"You talk of love and hate almost in the same breath," Raul said with a laugh.
He remembered the plane tickets back in the hotel room. Substitute Denise for Gaby... Again he was sorely tempted to tell her the real reason he had returned. The way Denise felt about her husband, she just might...
But no, she would never go along with his robbing the bank. She would be shocked, and would turn away from him in disgust.
Yvette came with their order. "Will there be anything else, Raul?" She managed to make both her voice and posture provocative.
"That will be all, Yvette," he said curtly.
Denise's glance followed Yvette until the redhead was out of sight, then she looked back at Raul, her eyes again hidden behind the dark glasses. "You seem to have renewed old acquaintances."
"Don't tell me you're jealous."
"Yes, I'm jealous. Why shouldn't I be?" she retorted. Then, "I'm sorry. I guess I really don't have the right, after last night..." She removed the glasses again and looked at him intently. "Remember the lake up the mountain? Our picnic? I want to go there again."
He said gently, "Of course I remember, Denise. But you can't go back. We've both changed. Women always want to go back." He held up a hand at a look of hurt. "All right. I'll go on your picnic, and I'll screw you. Gladly. But don't think it's going to be the same."
"It will be better, darling, much better. You'll see." She picked up her fork and began to eat heartily.
Raul toyed with the food. His appetite was gone; there was too much on his mind. When Denise finally finished, it was near noon and the restaurant was filling up.
"I think we had better leave. The way this town is, your husband probably has a blowby-blow report by now."
"Does that frighten you, darling?"
Raul snapped. "I don't scare that easily. But we are being foolish. We don't have to flaunt our fucking before the whole town."
She reached along the table to lay her hand on his. "I don't care who knows I love you."
He believed her. There was no doubt of her sincerity at that moment.
But what did that solve? It only added one more problem to those he already had.
He sighed and said, "Denise, there are many things you don't know about me. I didn't come back here to take you away from your husband; I came back to get even, to make this town pay for all the things it did to me, the things it took away from me." As he spoke Denise paled, her eyes widening.
"Raul, you scare me when you talk like that. You're not weak and shallow like Edouard. You don't make idle boasts."
He said grimly, "It's no idle boast, Denise."
She let her breath go with a sigh. Her color returned. "But that doesn't make sense, Raul. Besides, what can you do about a village? Burn it down?"
Again he knew the urge to tell her of his plan. A successful bank robbery could be as mortal a blow to the village as a raging fire. Had he been alone in the operation, he would have told her, and damn the consequences. But he had Roger and Gaby to consider. He'd brought them into it.
"We'd better knock this off," he said abruptly.
"Perhaps you're right, darling. We'll go up to our lake Monday early, and spend the whole day there. It's going to be along weekend not seeing you again until then, but we're having weekend guests, so I won't be able to get away. Monday, we'll make our plans." She slid out of the booth, then leaning, touched her fingers to his cheek. "I love you."
He simply nodded, and watched her walk away from him. Her marvelous ass wiggled so enticingly that he knew if they were alone he would pull his cock out of his pants, lift her skirt, yank her panties down and thrust his bared cock up the ass-hole of her delectable behind. He would shove his long dong between her ass-cheeks right up her anus. Once his shaft was completely surrounded by her hot ass-hole, he would let his love-juices spurt.
"Well, your high-bosomed friend seemed as anxious to leave as she was to get here."
He hadn't heard Yvette come up. He turned
Suddenly serious Yvette said, "She's a real fine person, Raul, but I think she's pretty confused right now. She's trapped in a lousy marriage, a marriage that was probably more her father's doing than hers. I think..."
Raul put a bill on the tray with his check.
" "What do you think, Yvette?"
"I think she needs a man. A real man. And I know one, if he's available." She let her gaze move slowly over his crotch and the big dick she knew was ready in there. She had experienced his virile peter and found it wonderful. She sighed, and said as though to herself, "And he's available. That sticks out like that long dick of his."
She was a most tempting dish, but time was getting short, far too short to get involved with her. "I'm sorry, Yvette. I've got things to do. But I'll be around. Maybe we can get together after the holiday."
Her smile was wry. "Sure, lover, sure. I'll be around too. That's me, always around.
Already the toursit flood was starting, and the village cash registers were humming a gay tune. By six o'clock, the end of the day and of the banking week, the bank would be feeling the extra inflow of cash. And for the first few hours Tuesday morning, the money the merchants had taken in over the long weekend would pour into the bank, all there for Roger and Lamar's dramatic appearance shortly after noon.
Raul couldn't suppress a shiver of guilt as halfway back to his hotel he saw Paronel, the police chief approaching. He forced him self to relax. "Hello, Charles. Looks like the village's filling up. You'll have a busy weekend."
Paronel removed his hat and mopped his brow. He grunted. "Hell, they need a nursemaid more than a cop. I and my men will spend all weekend rounding up drunks, stopping brawls and hauling drunken fishermen out of the lake. And that puts the lid on the wine and conversation I offered you until Tuesday." He brightened, "but things will be back to normal then, and I can relax."
"Tuesday it is, then. I'll be over before lunch. You got a good supply of wine in that cubbyhole you call an office?"
Paronel grinned broadly. "You just come, there will be all you can drink."
Even with the influx of weekenders, the village was still quiet and peaceful. The shops were busy, but there was no rowdiness yet. Raul paused in front of the hotel and looked along the street. It wasn't a bad little place: at peace, prosperous, even friendly in a way. He snorted at himself. Now what had brought that on? Less than an hour ago he had been expounding to Denise how much he hated the village.
He glanced over at the bank. Then he leaned back against the building. As it had for weeks now, his mind went over the plan again, searching for flaws and finding none. Through the bank's front window he could see the stooped figure of Trudeau, the ancient guard. Trudeau had been with the bank since long before Raul's time. Raul had never known him to fire the gun he wore strapped on his hip. It was entirely possible the thing wouldn't even work.
On a sudden impulse Raul started walking. He walked out of the village and along the old highway that ran near the lake, following its twists and turns closely. A new highway had been built before Raul had left the village, and this one, though it intersected the new one a few miles down the mountain, was seldom used now. Apparently no effort was made to keep it up, but it was still usable.
After leaving the outskirts of the village, Rault only saw two Renaults before he reached his destination, some two miles away. Tuesday, after the weekenders had departed, there should be no cars at all. Certainly the villagers never used the old road.
And this was all to the good.
From the point which was his goal, there was no cabins in sight.
And that too was all to the good -and part of the plan.
After the holdup, Gaby would drive the stolen car down this old road. Roger and Paul would change as she drove, from jump suits and face masks into old fishing clothes. The money from the bank would be stowed in a tackle box.
Then, at this point on the road, Gaby would send the car off a high cliff. In the car would be the clothes used in the holdup, Paul's gun, and anything else that might serve to identify the trio.
Now Raul stood exactly at the spot where the car would be driven over. The old road made a gooseneck curve, following closely the shore at a crooked inlet on the lake. On three sides of the inlet, the cliffs rose sheer for close to two hundred feet, and there was no beach at the bottom, only water -very deep water.
A car driven off here, unless seen, would never be found. And the odds against it being seen were very high. The inlet, due to its corkscrew shape, could not be seen from the body of the lake, in the event anyone was fishing nearby. And the inlet itself was rarely fished.
Raul knew this spot very well. He had often walked out here in the old days, for it was the place where his drunken parents had gone to their deaths. The road was in use then, and a passing motorist had seen their car go over. Otherwise their bones might still be down there, skeletons eternally trapped in the car.
He shivered. The place always gave him an eerie feeling.
And it reminded him that he hadn't visited their graves since coming back. It was possible that he couldn't even find them. At the time there had been no money for gravestones, and he had never gotten around to it when he had the money.
He wrenched his mind away from such thoughts and lit a cigar. He went over the other details of the plan.
After the car went over, Roger and Paul would separate from Gaby. Raul turned and looked up the mountain. That way was the cabin, something over a mile away. Gaby was to return there. If there were questions later, she had been out for a hike.
On the shore a short distance away, a row-boat was hidden. Roger and Paul, carrying the tackle box with the money, would hustle down to it and spend two or three hours fishing before returning on foot to the cabin, hiding the tackle box in the woods near it.
Raul had little doubt that they could get this far, if all went smoothly at the bank. Charles Peronel would be the only officer on duty in the village, and he would be lethargic after the hectic weekend, and as full of wine as Raul could possibly manage to get into him.
When Peronel heard of the holdup, he would immediately notify authorities down the road each way, the roadblocks would be set up long before a car could get that far.
When the roadblocks failed to net the robbers, disbelief would spread. Planes would fly over as much of the territory as possible, and men on foot would comb the mountainsides on the theory that the robbers had abandoned their car and taken off on foot.
When that failed, the third step would follow naturally. Everyone in the area would be questioned. But there would still be hundreds of vacationers in scattered cabins on the mountain. Roger, Gaby and Lamar would be but three out of those hundreds; there would be little reason to suspect them over any of the others, no reason for more than a cursory search of the cabin and grounds, if that.
All they had to do was wait for a few days. Soon it would be the consensus of opinion that somehow, impossible as it would seem, the robbers had slipped away. Then the trio could leave without being searched. Raul would already have gone, and would be waiting for them in the Paris hideout.
It would work. There was no reason in the world why it shouldn't. It was, as Roger had said, the perfect crime, and one that would be talked about for years to come.
Why, then, had he suddenly lost his taste for it?
He felt a sudden urge to see Gaby and Roger just once more before they pulled the job. Actually, it was probably a desire to fuck Gaby, to be naked with her, his long, throbbing cock buried to his balls inside her boiling cunt, her big titties flattened beneath his chest as his creamy come spurted up her wanting hole.
The wild stud habits of the last five years still prodded his vigorous shaft and balls. Sometimes it seemed the more women he had, the more cunt he craved. And Gaby was always sensational in bed...
However, it would be foolish to risk it now. It was too close to D-day for their takeover of the bank. Besides, he knew he had his choice for desirable broads for the long weekend. There was Denise if he got desperate, and Yvette, he knew, would be delighted to take a soapy bath with him, if he would soap up her cunny with a lather of hot semen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
When Raul opened the door to his hotel room he wasn't too surprised to find Yvette calmly sitting stark naked, except for his bathrobe loosely open, in the one easy chair in the room. Her big tits spilled out of the robe and her red haired snatch winked at him from between her out-spread legs.
"I just had to see you again, Raul. Last night was really so wonderful for me. A girl like me doesn't really get too much of a chance to know the real good cock of a wonderful guy -mostly creepy tourists or fat salesmen with half-dead peters who grunt and fart as they fuck...Well, I just need an encore before you leave town for another five years."
The robe had fallen from Yvette's milkywhite nakedness, dotted with jutting crimson nipples and framed with those long red tresses.
"It's all right by me, Yvette," Raul said. "But this time the bed -I haven't got my skin-diving suit tonight."
He awoke slightly before noon and went down for breakfast. He left Yvette sleeping as she was working a later shift and the lack of her face among the many strange ones made him feel at a loss.
Finally -of all things -he went fishing. He had never cared much for fishing, but it was something to do. He put on old clothes, rented the equipment and a small boat with an outboard and spent the rest of the afternoon on the lake.
To his surprise, he caught some fish. He tossed them all back. What the hell could he do with fish? At dusk he returned to his room and cleaned up, then he went to dinner. Yvette was on duty, but the place was so crowded that there was no opportunity to talk.
Raul returned to his room feeling depressed. He poured a drink he didn't want, and crossed to the winow to look down on the busy street. He stood there a long time.
The whole caper seemed sour.
If he could only be sure of DENISE. If she would shack up with him, he'd dump the whole deal and run with her to the ends of the earth, scratching out a living for them however he could.
A new thought struck him forcibly, bringing a flicker of a grin to his face. It wouldn't be necessary for him to run, or worry about a living. If she could annul the marriage due to Edouard's impotency, Denise would have considerable money left, enough to set him up in a business. And with her as his wife, he would finally be accepted by the villagers as one of their own.
It was what he wanted, wasn't it?
Wasn't it?
With an angry gesture, he tossed off the drink. He had to talk to Roger. But it was too early. He could not risk a trip to the cabin.
He prowled the small room restlessly, smoking all the cigarettes and cigars he had. The liquor only made him more depressed. He decided to go to the store.
Raul put on a pair of jeans, a leather jacket and field boots. He left the hotel and walked along the quiet streets. He soon found himself angling away from town and up the slope toward the cabin.
There was a cool freshness in the night air as he paused on the edge of the clearing. In the shadows of the last trees, Roger sat on a stump a few yards from the cabin. There was only one light inside -in Gaby's bedroom.
Raul caught the glint of steel in the moonlight as he approached the man on the stump. Roger had the gun in his lap. He was gazing down at it, turning it over and over in his hands.
Raul moved silently up behind him. "Hello Roger."
The stocky man jumped up and whirled around. "Sacre, you sacred the hell out of me." He motioned as if to conceal the gun then gave it up with a sheepish grin.
Raul made no comment about it. Instead he said, ."If you're going to be the great outdoorsman, Roger, you're going to have to learn a few things. All the birds took flight when I came through the woods."
Raul sat down beside his friend. Roger peered at him closely, a look of concern on his face.
"What is, Raul? Anything gone wrong?"
"No. no. Everything's smooth as silk. I set up the last pieces of action just today." He told Roger about Charles, and his plan to be drinking with the policeman during the holdup.
Roger was jubilant. "Fine, fine. That just about ties it up in a neat package. Or does it? Something is wrong. Out with it, Raul."
Stumblingly, Raul told him of Denise, of their love, and how her husband Lefevre stood in their way.
"This Lefevre...He's president of the bank?"
Raul nodded.
Roger seemed deep in thought. He said slowly, "I'm sorry about your trouble, son. I'm a romantic, I guess, and I like to see the course of true love run smooth." His voice sharpened. "This Denise...Does she know about the caper?"
"Oh, no. Of course not."
"Then your problem's personal, nothing to do with the job?"
Raul nodded. "Yes, except that the kick's gone out of it for me, Roger."
"I can see how that would be, but you'll feel much better once the money's in your hand."
Roger leaned, elbows on his knees, and in a dreamy voice he began to talk of the life he'd lead in Brazil with his cut of the money. Raul had heard it all before, but listening again now, he knew he had to go through with the holdup. It was the last chance for this man he was so fond of. If it fell through, Roger's heart would break.
Roger broke from his daydreaming to look around. "Denise...Is she going with you., with us?"
"I don't know."
"I like Gaby, of course. You know that. But this Denise strikes me as a woman I'd like too." His voice dropped. "Of course, you may want to be alone, without an old man tagging along. I understand."
At the mention of Gaby, Raul glanced toward the cabin. He got to his feet. "I guess I'll go in and say hello to Gaby. She's probably thinking I've-"
Roger stood up quickly. "Lad, why don't we talk for a while more first?" He put a hand on Raul's arm.
Raul shook the hand off, anger spurting through him. "What the hell are you trying to shield me from?"
"They're both drunk. Take my advice. Don't go busting in there."
"I think I will. I think I'll do just that."
Raul strode toward the door, opening it quietly and entered the darkened room. A rancid odor of stale liquor and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air. The door to Gaby's bedroom stood open, a dim light spilling out. Raul picked his way toward it.
As he reached the doorway, Gaby groaned twice in fuck ecstasy.
"Suck me good. Shove your tongue up my twat."
Stark naked, Gaby lay slant-wise across the tumbled bed, her feet planted solidly and well apart on the floor. Her eyes were clenched shut and the big teats throbbed like a giant heartbeat, rising to a rigid arch, then collapsing, to rise again. Her arms were flung wide, each hand clutching at the bed.
Paul Lamar, also naked, was kneeling between her widely spread knees at the corner of the bed, his mouth glued to and partly inside Gaby's parted cunt. The moist juices of her pussy drenched Paul's cheeks as he was busy lapping her. His skinny body, fishbelly-white, was ludicrous in its total lack of hair. He resembled a skinned alley cat, narrow back arched, face out of sight, his naked ass-hole gleaming, a large, hairy set of balls hung down below with a long prick swaying like a pump handle.
In one bound Raul was at the bed. He got his fingers in Paul's stringy hair and yanked. He slammed his fist in the the lust-slackened face, sending the man reeling backward toward the door.
Raul turned to look down at Gaby, and she returned his gaze defiantly.
"Well, what did you expect? I haven't seen you for days." Then she turned away, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
Paul was just getting to his feet, his back to the wall, his hands working crabwise up it. Raul stepped in close and drove a fist into his midsection, and when Lamar doubled over, Raul straightened him up with a left to the face. Paul staggered to one side and stumbled through the bedroom door.
Raul stalked him, giving him no chance to recover. Driving his victim before him with short, stiff-arm blows to the head, he sent him reeling out the dront door.
Roger ran up. "Raul, you'll kill him." He tried to get between them, but Raul, blind with rage brushed him aside and drove the naked, helpless Paul ahead of him and then pummelled the reeling form to the ground.
"That's enough." Roger caught Raul by the shoulders and pulled him back. "We need him."
Raul allowed himself to be held back. He stood panting, staring down at Paul, who had curled into a tight ball. Dressed, with a gun hidden on him somewhere, Lamar was a menacing figure. But now he looked utterly pathetic.
Raul let Roger lead him to the cabin steps. He muttered, "I should kill him."
"No. He's not worth it." Roger sat down beside him. "Once the job is over, you'll never see him again."
"For two centimes I'd call the caper off right now," Raul said. "We can't trust that weedhead."
Roger put an arm across his shoulders. "Don't worry, son. Things are going to work out better than you think. I'll take care of Paul. I'll keep him in line, I promise."
He went into the cabin. In a few minutes he came back with Lamar's clothes and tossed them to the still-cowering thug.
Without a word, Paul began to scramble into his clothes, his cock now limp and shrunken.
Roger turned to Raul. He said gently. "You go on back to Gaby. Don't blame her too much; you know how she is. I'll take Paul for a walk."
Raul thought. Maybe I shouldn't blame her too much. He had neglected her. And he had been shoving his own busy prick into more than one cunt.
He got up and re-entered the cabin. There was a bottle of cognac on the table before the cold fireplace. He picked it up and took two long swallows.
She still lay on the big bed, curled up with her back to him. She rolled onto her back at the sound of his footsteps. Her tears had dried, and there was now no sign of remorse on her face.
"See what happens, mon cheri, when you leave me too long."
Raul stepped close to the bed.
Gaby rolled onto her belly and lay with her face turned toward him. She followed his undressing with avid eyes, and when he stepped out of his shorts, she sighed gustily at the sight of his lust-swollen prick jutting hugely from his bush.
"Oh. You're really ready, aren't you?" Raul said, staring down at her.
So Gaby wanted to play games, did she? Well, he could give her all the fun she wanted.
Raul got on the bed on his knees, his rigid prick aimed straight at her ass-hole. Gaby drew her plump rump up slightly so that her weight rested on her knees and elbows. Her breasts swung free, the nipples like arrowheads aimed at the bed.
She was panting as though she had been running, her buttocks opening and closing in avid anticipation. He put a hand on each cheek and they felt feverish. She tensed, waiting.
He moved his burning pole toward her, waited just a moment, then thrust the hard cock right up her ass-hole with a lunge.
She clamped her ass-hole against his surging cock to capture it.
Her breasts were swinging wildly. He reached around and caught one in each hand. He trapped each nipple between two fingers and worked on them, the fingers like dull scissors sawing away at tough fiber. He watched the spasmodic motion of her supple back as they bucked and ground together.
Gradually Gaby grew wilder and wilder, until it was all he could do to hold her to him. She took all the cock Raul could give her and begged for more.
And still more.
It was something like clinging to a carnival ride that seemed to go in several directions at once, up -down -sideways and in spine-cracking circles.
Then his eyes closed, as his pleasure intensified, the first warning ripple of ecstasy coursing through his about-to-come cock.
"Not yet, damn you." Gaby cried in a muffled voice. "Wait one..more..second."
He slowed his rhythm and let her work frantically. Then she dived on to her face, and her hands reached back to clutch at his back and pull him harder against her.
Then Gaby screamed, "Now, damn you. Now."
She went rigid. Now she spasmed again and again, sinking lower each time until she was but an elongated mound of quivering flesh, so soft and limp as to seem almost shapeless.
Raul rolled away and sprawled on his back. His chest heaved as he fought for breath. Vaguely he wanted a cigar, but it didn't seem worth the effort required to find and light one.
"Oh, that was good, cheri." Gaby crooned in his ear.
A grunt was his only comment. He was tired and growing drowsy.
"I'm sorry about Paul, but you know how it is with me. He means nothing to me; he was just here. We got a little drunk, and he was a man and willing to do what I wanted. He was here and you weren't. You know?"
"Ummm-hmmm," he muttered and drifted into sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
Raul had to flee to his hotel room for his own protection. He had never experienced such a fantastic fuck-session in his life as with Gaby at the cabin. He was young and virile with a much better than average capacity, but this was one time he felt that he had had it. Truly exhausted, he fell into a deep, dong-drained sleep.
When he awakened it was late Sunday evening. His energies somewhat restored he dressed and went to the local movie after he had his dinner. The picture was a musical in technicolor and when the show was over, he strolled back to the hotel and went to bed early to be in shape for the day ahead.
The next morning he showered, shaved and got into the clothes he laid out for the picnic. Then he walked out into the warm day.
All the shops were open and the sidewalks were thick with people. Like all resort towns, the village kept most places open on holidays. The only exceptions were the bank, the post office and a few professional offices.
Tomorrow would be just the opposite. The bank would be open for business, the majority of the shops closed for a day's rest with most of the shopkeepers coming in just long enough to cart their surplus cash to the bank.
Which was all to the good and according to plan.
In the restaurant, Raul took a booth and ordered breakfast. Yvette wasn't there; still on the late shift. He was taking his first sip of the steaming coffee when someone slid into the booth.
He glanced up to see Charles, the policeman. He looked harried and worn. Raul doubted that he had much sleep the past few days, and he still had a day and night to go. He even looked as though he'd shed a couple of pounds.
"Mind if I join you ," he said spiritlessly.
"But of course," Raul said warmly. "I'll even stand the tab. Sure you won't have something else?"
"No thanks. Weekends like this one foul up my appetite."
Charles leaned forward. "I tell you what, my friend. Why don't you knock around with me today? I need someone I can beef to. And maybe we'll find time to have some wine."
With a caretully straight face he said, "No thanks, Charles. I'm going on a picnic."
The waitress came with Raul's breaktast and coffee for the policeman."
Charles waited until she was out of hearing before saying, "You can't put the blocks to the wife of the village rich man, Raul, without everyone in town knowing about it."
First Yvette, now this one. The way people were looking out for his welfare, someone who didn't know better would think Raul
LePlaise was the town's favorite son.
He began to eat. After a moment he said evenly, "Why don't we just let it lie right there? Okay?"
"As you wish." Charles finished his coffee and stood up. He said hesitantly, "You still dropping in tomorrow?"
"Sure, Charles. I promised you I would."
The policeman nodded heavily and moved away. Raul watched him go, then resumed eating.
He was waiting in the hotel entrance when Denise pulled up in a red Citroen. She didn't see him immediately and she started to get out.
She wore a full skirt -which slid back to show a lot of levely leg -and a deeply scalloped peasant blouse. Larry didn't have a good memory for women's clothes, but he could have sworn they were the very clothes she haa worn that other time.
He started toward the car.
She took in his slacks and open-throated shirt. "You're losing that city look, darling. Now you look more like the boy I first went on a picnic with."
He got in beside her and they drove off.
She flicked a glance at him, then reached over to touch his knee with the tips of her fingers. "I wish I was still a virgin, darling. Just for you."
"A man can't have everything."
"A woman either, my dearest."
They fell silent as she drove on, and he studied her covertly. She seemed strangly calm today, as though she had reached some decision. She wasn't wearing the dark glasses and had made no attempt whatsoever to disguise the black eye Edouard had given her. She seemed almost proud of it.
There were two minor changes at the remote lake. The narrow strip of beach had widened, and now it sloped smoothly enough that she could drive the car right to the water's edge. And in the center of the lake was a small float for diving.
Denise stopped the car and bounded out. "Bring the basket, darling. I brought along a bottle of champagne."
Raul carried the basket to her. She had walked up from the beach a short distance to a spot under a large tree. The ground was spongy with pine needles. While Denise spread out the big checkered tablecloth, Raul opened the wine and poured two glasses.
Somehow she did manage to capture some of the quality of that first time.
She kicked off her shoes and her delicate feet made attractive dimples on the tablecloth. She drank the champagne with a toss of her head.
Then, before his startled eyes, she began | to take off her clothes.
Raul watched her in wonder. He had never seen her quite like this. She was bold, wanton; she had shed her inhibitions like a whore on the make. Then he could only gape in awe, as her nude body emerged in all its feminine beauty. For beneath the blouse and skirt, she wore absolutely nothing.
She raised her hands to her hair, and her pear-shaped breasts rose, their big tips coral and erect. She arched her back, striking a wanton pose.
"I want to be anything and everything to you, Raul. Do you want me to be a harlot, a tramp, that you hired for the day? Or should I be your disdainful mistress, demanding, chic and fashionable. Or would you rather I be a petulant, reluctant lover?"
With each new description she struck a pose delineating the character, or what she thought that character should be.
Larry gazed on her glorious nudity. Her honey hair fell to her shoulders. Her pert breasts beckoned to him, the nipples like jewels. The lewd, wanton cunt was an exotic summons to erotic delight. He felt his ramrod stiffen lustfully.
"Just tell me, darling. I'll do my best to satisfy." She slid slowly to the tablecloth, her arms upraised.
He dropped to his knees before her and said huskily, "You're all those things, but I want only you, the real you."
Denise got up on her knees and pressed her soft belly to his groin. In his arms her flesh was smooth and hot and silken. Her mouth was a honeyed cave. Her breasts crushed against his chest as they swayed together, mouth to mouth, belly on belly.
Then her fingers began to pull at the buttons of his shirt. She worked her small hands inside.
He pulled his mouth from hers. "Give me a minute and I'll take off..." "No. I want to."
She took her time with his clothes. As each garment was removed, she covered the bared area with quick, pecking kisses. It seemed to take forever, but Raul was enjoying it.
She continued undressing and kissing him.
And then his shorts were gone.
And then...
Before Raul had rocked along with the normal amount of passion, relishing the slow arousal. Now his passion flared high, flames licking at him, causing his body to twist and turn in delicious agony.
Soon it was more than he could endure. With a groan, he pulled Denise up and stretched her out beside him. They embraced. Their mouths met. She moved her shoulders, drawing away slightly so that her swollen nipples traced patterns of fire on his chest.
He broke the embrace and moved his face down to kiss a nipple. He worried it gently between his teeth, one hand meanwhile moving to between her thighs.
As his hand moved, stroking, she tensed with a groan, then relaxed, going all soft and welcoming him. He fondled her pussy and Denise sighed and her breathing became deeper, more uneven.
She brought her lips to his ear. "Please, oh, mon Dieu, please. I can't stand it."
He, too, was impatient.
He got to his knees and Denise fell back, her trembling thighs parting. Her arms reached out to him, fingers curling. He moved gently toward her and she took his shaft and guided him. And very shortly it was no longer necessary. She lid the head in between her cunny lips and he thrust his dick into her vagina up to his very balls.
Her body shuddered all over, then she lifted her torso off the ground in a mighty surge.
Their bush hairs met and rubbed together, and their rhythm began.
As Denise's joy increased, little sighs rose from her lips like bubbles in the neglected bottle of champagne. Her dark eyes glowed with rapture. She locked both hands behind Raul's neck and pulled his face down, as he humped her cunt.
"I love, you mon cher," she whispered. "Oh, how I love you."
He wanted to answer, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He wanted in the worst way to tell her he loved her too.
Then her mouth fastened on his and she drove her tongue deep, effectively stopping anything he might have wanted to say.
As their tempo increased, doubling and redoubling, Denise slid her fingers in his hair as faster and faster her heels drummed on the backs of his thighs, his buttocks and even higher, driving him harder and harder against her soft body.
He responded with bull-like vigor -a vigor Denise met and matched.
Suddenly she wrenched her mouth away with a gasp. "Oh, darling. I'm...Oh. Oh..Ah."
She screamed, then bit down on the flesh of his shoulder. For a moment she seemed to go mad. A great spasm took her and she rose writhing against him for the last time. Then she began to sink back slowly as her orgasm died.
At that instant, Raul's own culmination struck him, beginning in his toes and traveling in shock waves up his trembling thighs, along his rigid spine, to explode in his prick with a fire storm of white light. It was like all the flashbulbs in the world going off at the same time.
The light changed from white to rainbow colors, pinwheeling behind his eyes as he spurted burning semen into her cunt.
Her body cushioned his fall, but he scarcely noticed, so busy was he attempting to isolate and savor each separate sensation of the ecstasy. But that was impossible. Each time he thought he had found the most delightful spot of pleasure, he shivered and shook and trembled again, and the ecstasy sped to every crook of his throbbing form.
Finally he lay still. When he started to roll away, he dimly heard her pleading voice: "Don't move, darling. Please stay."
He remained where he was until finally she released him. Then he rolled onto his back, panting for breath.
After a moment she faced him, and her fingers brushed across his chest in a light caress as she whispered into his ear, "That was the greatest, darling."
He was inclined to agree. In long-legged strides, she started to the lake. She slogged out until the water reached her waist, then dived under.
Wearily, Raul got to his feet and followed her. She came up halfway to the floating raft, her arms flashing in the sunlight.
He was several strokes behind her when she turn, threw him one kiss and swam toward shore.
He changed his mind about going out to the float and turned and swam back. Denise had taken two huge towels from the car and was drying her vigorously. She tossed him one, tied hers around, sarong-style, and went over to the picnic basket and began getting out their food.
Raul dried himself and tied the towel around his waist, covering his drained balls.
They ate ravenously, and afterward they lay side by side on the warm grass, Raul smoking a cigar, Denise a cigarette.
He raised up to llok at her. "Denise, tell me something. Would you have left your husband if I hadn't come back?"
Her gaze was level. "I'll be honest with you, Raul. I'm not sure. Edouard -and Papa's estate -have supported me very well. You know the kind of life I'm used to. And there was nobody I loved...I don't know..." Her voice broke off. "The point is, you did come back, and I love you, and I can't live with Edouard any longer."
"Will you go away with me -Now, tomorrow, whenever I say -without question?" He held his breath for the answer.
And she answered, "Yes, darling. Whatever you say. Anything you want is what
I want."
He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her down onto the grass. He said tenderly, "All right. We'll work something out. And I do love you."
"Oh, Raul." She buried her face in his neck and he felt the hot gush of her tears.
Holding her, he knew what he must do. He couldn't leave with her now, fleeing like a coward in the night. Neither could he go through with the holdup.
It was ironic in a way. For days he had been wanting her to run away with him and now that she had agreed, he couldn't do it. Not without seeing Roger and the others first. He would see them tonight and call the robbery off.
Roger? Well, maybe he could talk the old man into staying in the village. They could work something out. As for Gaby, she didn't love him. Oh, she might hurt for a while, but she would soon get over it with another man.
Feeling more at ease with himself than he had for a long while, Raul went to sleep Denise in his arms.
CHAPTER TEN
The marvelous day had to end -and so it did. The sun was sinking as they left their wonderful love spot. To Raul, the day had passed so quickly in joyous fucking and intimate closeness with Denise, that it seemed as if five years hadn't passed.
Now he knew that Denise was his -truly his, and that he loved and was loved.
Everything that had happened during the day between Denise and himself now impelled him to one of the toughest decisions in his life.
There was no other way. He had to torpedo the whole operation. He searched himself for regrets and could find none. Roger was the only one he really cared about, the only one who would really be hurt. Roger's final caper, was going down the drain.
Long before he reached the clearing, he saw the lights of the cabin through the trees. They must be going over the plan together, making sure each knew his part. Roger wasn't in the clearing as usual. Raul steppd onto the porch with cat feet. The door was ajar, and a wedge of light spilled out. He paused to listen.
"...fifteen minutes at the most." It was Lamar's harsh voice. "You have the car waiting to take, off, bebe, and we got no problem."
"Don't worry about me, Paul," Gaby said scornfully, "I can handle my end."
Larry pushed the door open and went in. All three of them were on the couch before the fireplace. At the door's creak, like a lean and hungry cat, Paul came up and around, sliding into a crouch, his gun appearing his hand as if by magic.
Fear squeezed Raul's loins as he looked into the weasel eyes of the gunman. Paul would be happy to use that gun, if only to prove how tough he was.
Gaby came to her feet and started toward him.
Raul motioned her back. "Relax, Gaby."
Roger was frowning slightly. "You said you wouldn't be coming back. Is something wrong?"
Lamar put the gun back into his waist band. "Yeah, boss man. You changing the plan?"
Raul looked longingly at the bottle on the table; he needed another drink. But he had to keep a clear head until he'd said what he was here to say. He took a stance before the fireplace, keeping a wary eye on Paul. If trouble came, it would be from him. For the first time, Raul wished he had a gun.
"Roger said worriedly, "It's a little late for changes, lad."
Raul took a deep breath and said flatly, "One change, Roger. The caper's off."
Lamar's laugh was a scornful bark. "You're calling it off?"
Roger was caught with a drink halfway to his mouth. "You can't, son. Not now."
Raul glanced at each of them in turn. They were all alike. Each in his own way a greedy vulture, hovering, waiting to gorge on the flesh of his town.
Startled by his own thoughts, he looked deep within himself. And it was true. It was his village. And he'd recruited these scavengers to feed on it.
"It figures. You got the guts when you catch a man with his pants down, but now..."
Roger leaned forward. "It isn't that. No. It's the girl, isn't it?" He gazed at Raul. "She won't think any better of you just for backing off now."
Gaby charged to her feet, her face livid. "She?" Her big breasts bounced indignantly. "You've got yourself a new twat to screw, damn you."
"Not a new one, Gaby. And old one," Roger said. His hands were out of sight below the table. "You can't do this to me, son. Not at this late date."
"You mean he's been two-timing me ever since we've been up here?" Without warning Gable snatched the bottle from the table. "YOU RAT." She swung at Raul's head.
He ducked, the bottle whistling harmlessly past his head.
"It's off," Raul repeated grimly. "I came up here prepared to say I'm sorry, but not now. I see that it was all a mistake, all wrong from the very beginning." All the while he kept his eyes locked on the gun happy creep. And that was his mistake.
"You're the one that's wrong, lad," Roger said almost gently.
Raul gazed around. Roger's hand steadied on the table, aiming the gun at Raul's heart.
"You're not going to cheap me out of this caper for some girl." The old man's face was set. "I mean it, Raul. This is the end of the line, you know. I make it now, or.."
And Gaby was back. 'In a voice close to tears, she said, "Raul, I don't understand. You promised. You said we'd go away together. You said you loved me."
Without looking at her, Raul said, "You'll find someone else, Gaby. You'll always make out."
He stepped forward against the table. "It's no damned good, Roger. The caper has gone sour."
Roger shook his head mournfully. "No. You're the one gone sour." The gun never wavered.
Larry realized it was now or never. He jammed a knee against the table tipping it upward toward Roger. At the same time he stooped and swept the glasses from its top with a swipe of his arm.
Lamar, caught by surprise was hit in the face with a barrage of flying glass. He howled, throwing himself sideways off the couch. Roger was struggling to heave the table off his lap.
Raul aimed at the table, this time turning it over on top of the man. Roger's gun flew from his hand and thudded to the floor a few feet away. Raul whirled to meet the expected attack from Lamar, but the gunman was pawing wildly at his face, out of action.
Raul started for Roger's gun, bending to scoop it up.
He had forgotten Gaby. She brought the bottle down on his head.
He saw it coming, out of he corner of his eye, and threw himself to one side, so it was only a glancing blow, but it was enough to stun him.
He plunged forward, his cheek burning as it scraped along the rough flooring.
Their voices reached him dimly.
"The two-timing louse. That'll teach him."
"Let me finish the..."
"No. Paul. As of this moment, I'm in comman."
Raul tried to get to his feet.
"Get some rope, Gaby," Roger said. "We will leave him here until the job is done. Then we can decide what to do with him."
Raul fought off black waves of unconsciousness. One thought filled his mind. He had failed. He had misjudged Roger's determination. The robbery would come off as planned. With or without him.
He felt hands fumbling with him, and soon his wrists were tied and his ankles bound securely.
Lamar caught Raul under the arms and began to tug him across the floor. The pain exploded in his head. He must have passed out briefly, for the next thing he knew he was being hauled onto a bed on his back.
"We better gag him," Paul was saying.
"Time for that in the morning," Roger said. "He'll be all right like this for tonight."
Even in his dazed condition, Raul sensed a subtle change in the man. Now that he was in command, he stood taller. Raul looked away. Rage and frustration pulsed behind his eyes. He rolled his head back and forth.
Roger had ushered the two out of the room and closed the door behind them. He came to the bed and looked down at Raul thoughtfully. "I'm sorry about the rough treatment, lad, but I'm afraid you brought it on yourself."
"You'll never pull it off, Roger."
"Why not. The plan is as good as it was before. You've done your part. The rst is up to us anyway."
Raul knew it was true; the holdup could be carried off as well with him tied up here as it could with him drinking beer with Charles.
"There's nothing I can do or say that would make you change your mind?"
"No." Raul muttered.
Roger sighed. "The female of the species. Tell me something. What is that this Denise has that makes her so different from Gaby?"
Raul fought against the bounds, "I'll see you never get away with it, Roger. The first chance I get, I'll blow the whistle."
Now anger struck Roger. His smooth face contorted in an ugly grimace. It was some moments before he regained enough control to say evently, "You know how fond of you I am, Raul. But if I don't have your promise to keep quiet, I will leave you in Lamar's hand. I'll have no choice."
Without another word he left the room.
Already Raul's fingers were plucking at the knots. But Lamar had done an expert job. Raul kept at it doggedly, and the ropes cut into his flesh.
He kept on. He had to escape.
There was only one thing left to do; he had to get to the village and warn Charles.
In desperation, he rolled from side to side, straining at the ropes. He rolled too far, over the edge of the bed; he hit the floor squarely with a loud thump.
He heard the pound of footsteps immediately. The door flew open and the three burst in, Paul in the lead. Cursing, Lamar rushed over and kicked Raul in the side. Raul doubled up, and Paul kicked him again.
"That's enough," Roger said. "Paul, perhaps you better gag him."
They picked Raul up, and within a short time he was completely helpless. He was spread-eagled the length of the bed, his mouth effectively gagged.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When daylight filtered through the window, he heard the rattle of dishes in the kitchen.
In a little while Roger stuck his head in the door. "Breakfast, lad? I guess we can untie you enough so you can eat."
The odor of food coming through the door reminded Raul that he had missed dinner last night. But he shook his head.
Roger shrugged and went away.
The next time he came back, he was in a brown jump suit, as was Paul, who came in with him. And true to his word, Roger had stuffed Paul like a Santa Claus. Even his skinny legs had been fattened. In any other circumstances, it would have been funny.
For a moment Raul thought they had come to kill him. Lamar stood in the open door with the gun menacing. It was another humilitating experience, another score to settle, if he ever got the chance.
But that chance seemed more and more remote with every passing minute.
In a short while he heard the car start and drive away.
Now the passage of time was pure torture. It wasn't only because of his uncomfortable position; he could follow each step of the holdup in his head.
Would they follow the original plan all the way? Would Roger let Gaby come back to the cabin alone? Or would he send Lamar along, to eliminate Raul once and for all?
He couldn't see his watch, so he could only guess at the time. He estimated it as a little over an hour before he heard Gaby's footsteps on the porch. He knew even before she burst into the room that something had gone wrong.
She was pale, disheveled, out of breath. She was crying, great gulping sobs. She threw herself across him and began tearing at the ropes.
Through her tears she mumbled, "Didn't figure on any killing. We've got to getaway."
Wrists freed, Raul pushed her aside. He sat up, tearing away furiously at the gag, and freeing his ankles, "Now what the hell are you talking about?" He said, trying to restore the circulation to his numb hands. "Did it go off as planned?"
Gaby swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Yes, everything went off at the bank just as you planned it, but they had to kill someone."
"I knew it. That damned Lamar." He pounded his fist on the bed. Then he took Gaby by the shoulders and shook her. "Who? Who did they kill?"
"I don't know" Her head moved jerkily on her shoulders as he shook her. "I never thought there'd be any killing." She started to sob.
Raul let her go. He got up and began to pace.
"Tell me just what happened, from the beginning."
She took a deep breath and began. "Well, everything went smooth as silk at the bank. I didn't even hear any shots. They came piling out with the money, and I drove to the spot on the lake where the car was to go over. We weren't followed; at least I don't think we were..."
"Get to the damned point." he snarled.
"Lamar said something about shooting the man in the bank, but Roger shut him right up. I didn't hear who it was or why. They didn't talk about it again. After we ran the car over, Roger and Lamar went down to the boat. The last I saw of them they were rowing out onto the lake." She looked up at him. "I ran back here as fast as I could so we can get away."
He spoke absently. "We're not getting away, Gaby. At least I'm not, but maybe you'd better. There's time before they get back. I don't think anyone will be looking for a lone woman."
He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. She seized it and pulled it to her lips.
There would be plenty of time. He knew now that Roger would follow the plan to the letter. But the killing? That hadn't been according to plan. Now they all faced a murder charge.
And Raul would be equally guilty, in the eyes of the law, although he hadn't actually participated in the robbery.
Gaby was speaking, "...mean by not leaving. Raul? You can't stay here and face a murder rap."
As he gazed down into her upturned face, he felt the first pull of affection in a long while. She was one of the lost souls of the world, much like himself, with no ties, no family, no real home. He put his lips to her face. She'd soon find another guy. "I'm not leaving, Gaby. Don't ask me to explain; it would take too long. But I want you out of here. Aside from wanting you to get away, there'll be a hassle when they get back and I don't want you to get caught in the middle."
She looked up at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm not going, cheri."
"What the hell do you think you'll gain by staying?" He stared at her. "If you stay, there's every chance you'll go to jail for a long time."
She paled, swallowed visiblely, but then shook her head in determination. "I've got more to gain by staying, Raul."
She got up. "Oh I knew from the start I could never hold you. I guess this Denise is the right girl. I know she's behind what you're doing. But think about this, if I'm not here and you're all arrested, do you think they'll tell the truth? But I can tell the police that you didn't want to rob the bank and that ^_you didn't want anyone killed, and that you did your best to stop us."
"Raul stared at her. "You'd do that for me? Why?"
"Because I love you," she said simply.
Raul felt humble and grateful at the same time.
He said, "I can't let you do it."
"You can't stop me." There was a strange new dignity about her. "I only hope that when it's all over you and your Denise can find a future together."
He said glumly, "It looks like a hell of a future from where I sit right this minute."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Raul was posted at the front window, where he could look down the hill toward the lake. He didn't have to wait long. He saw them coming through the trees. They were in old clothes, and Roger was carrying the tackle box.
He called to Gaby. "Now look, no matter what happens, you stay put in here until after I leave with them."
She smiled palely. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and went back to the door and waited for it to pen.
At the sight of Raul, Roger broke into a smile. "We pulled it off, lad." His smile faded to a frown. "What are you...?"
Raul hardly heard him. He dove at Lamar as he came in. Raul hit him across the mouth and Lamar reeled against the wall. He came off the wall snarling, arms flying, there was something almost womanish in his fury.
Raul knocked his hands aside and landed a solid blow high on the cheek.
Lamar staggered back. Raul, thinking he was trying to escape, stalked him.
Then Lamar faced around, his hand coming from under his jacket. Raul stopped short. There was a gun in the hand. Raul cursed himself for not providing for some kind of weapon. Instinctively he threw himself forward and down, his hands groping blindly.
The roar of the gun was loud in the room. Raul felt the bullet whistle past his face. Then he had Lamar's wrist in both hands. They fell together, rolling over and over. Finally they came to a stop with Raul on top, still clinging to the hand with the gun. Desperately he beat Lamar's arm against the floor, trying to dislodge the gun.
Paul held onto it. And, with a grunting effort, he tore his wrist free of Raul's grip. Like a striking snake, the gun swung up to bear on Raul. He lashed out. His fingers caught hold and clung.
This time the explosion was muffled between their bodies. Heat seared Raul's fingers as Paul grunted hoarsely, his body arching high off the floor, then going limp.
Slowly Raul got to his knees. Paul lay motionless, a ragged hole in his shirt.
Wearily, Raul got up and faced Roger. The man was holding the gun, pointed directly at him.
"You might as well know, lad. Paul didn't do the shooting; I did." "Why, Roger. Why?"
"The man stood between you and the girl. I did it for you, lad. I thought that with him dead, you'd change your mind and go along with the caper, just as we planned."
"Sacre. I didn't want him killed."
Roger wasn't listening. His eyes had a feverish glitter. "You know, lad. I was the one everybody was frightened of. Not poor Lamar. Me, with my disguised voice..."
Listening to Roger -this man he had once held in such affection -Raul felt empty.
"Roger, give me the gun," he said softly.
Gently, Raul took the gun from the man's limp fingers. Roger slumped against the wall, his head in his hands. Dry sobs shook his plump form as Raul bound his hands and feet to a heavy kitchen chair.
Raul turned away, toward the bedroom. Gaby was following instructions. She hadn't shown herself.
"Well, what do we do, Gaby?"
She looked at him tenderly. "Better take Roger down the hill and turn in that money fast. At most, I figure you'll only get a couple of years -and Denise will wait for you. With me, you'll be running the rest of your life.."
She winked like a good sport and gave him a farewell bump and grind with her fabulous ass and twat as she passed out of his life.
