The realm of sexual expression has remained one of controversy for many centuries, and undoubtedly will remain so for many more. There is no answer for the individual considering any particular form of sexual outlet, except that he must be true to himself. The mature individual who has achieved this sort of self-honesty and completeness will be little harmed or affected by the illogical or irrational opinions of others.
In this exceptionally well written novel the author has cleverly woven this truth like an unseen thread throughout the entire work. Had the characters faced up to their unusual desires instead of trying to repress them, much of the anguish they suffered would logically have been avoided.
The author does not claim this concept of opinion to be solely his own, nor a revolutionary thought. To the contrary, it has been expressed by the wisest thinkers through the ages. "This above all: to thine own self be true," was Shakespeare's way of saying the same thing; but it comes to us from still an earlier source, and one which not even the most rigid moralist can contest...."Happy is he that condemneth not himself for that which he alloweth himself. But he that doubteth is damned if he eat." Those who deny others sexual pleasures by quoting the Scriptures would be well advised to consider this quote from Romans.
No doubt this era could be called the age of sexual enlightenment. That this ultimately will be for the benefit of all mankind is obvious merely by looking at the past and previous ages of enlightenment. But even a brief glance backwards will also reveal that, in such times, honored traditions and concepts were re-examined, and many times discarded. What was considered fact was found to be fancy. In short, the excuse that "it isn't done" or "it's shameful" will no longer suffice in denying man a specific form of pleasure.
The author has published many volumes of contemporary fiction with us. We offer no further comment, except our extreme pleasure in presenting this timely work. We now suggest that you read it and draw your own conclusions. A work of art, no matter how contemporary, should speak for itself.
-The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Steve Forman's palms were sweating as he slipped a buck to the swarthy bell boy who carried their bags in, pulled the cord on the traverse rod that opened the floor-length draperies, and then pridefully pointed out the bidet in the spotless John.
The brown Hawaiian face beamed in response, exposing teeth that gleamed like an assembly line of white refrigerators. One round, black puppy dog eye winked in approval as Steve closed the bungalow door.
He stood there for a few moments, nervously fingering the loose change in his pocket while he mentally drank in the magnificence of the young woman six yards away from him. He admired the soft, round buttocks beneath her sheer cotton dress. Light from the sun shone through the filmy skirt, exposing two bare, beautiful thighs above the perfectly-shaped calves. A familiar bulge appeared between his legs-a tribute to the lady's allure. Then Steve Forman walked out onto the lanai, where Kacey stood drinking in the magnificence of the palm trees, the blooming hibiscus, the shimmering expanse of sand hemming the sapphire water.
God, what a paradise! And it was all theirs-at least for "6 Days and 7 Nights, Everything Included". Steve hoped the brochure was right, that "everything" also included Kacey. Nobody would ever believe that his bride-to-be was still a virgin! He hadn't even dared tell Stu, his roommate and best buddy. Stu would have laughed him right out of the apartment.
But dammit, it was true. For weeks he'd tried to get into her panties. He'd tried every trick he'd ever used, plus a few he'd picked up recently from the locker room bull sessions at the club house-but no dice. (Steve was an avid golfer, and they'd picked the Kauai Surf Hotel because it was supposed to have a spectacular course. Their bungalow was one of the several Pali Kai units privately nestled amongst the sheltering palms at the edge of the greens. Kacey had liked the idea of a bungalow too-not because of it's proximity to the course, but because she felt uptight about having a room in the main lodge. She was afraid "they" would guess that she and Steve weren't really man and wife.)
No matter what he tried, Kacey would just go so far and no further. He knew instinctively that there was a deep underlying passion in her; she smoldered, like a dormant volcano that would one day suddenly erupt. He wanted to be there when it happened, that was for damn sure! He had prevailed upon her to take a week's vacation together in Hawaii-if that didn't do the trick, nothing would. But he felt certain it must. He'd even arranged to get engaged before they left. That would reassure her that his intentions were "honorable". Yeah, as honorable as any red-blooded male's can be with a beautiful woman!
He remembered that night when they'd walked along the beach at Laguna-full moon shining on the placid ocean; rock music pulsating from a distant stereo; couples coupling on beach mats and bed rolls in coves and crannies. They had stopped somewhere and sat down on the shadowed sand to talk. She had responded warmly to his kisses, letting her mouth open submissively to accept his penetrating tongue. He had felt her bud-like nipples harden beneath her revealing tee shirt as he pressed her to his chest. His hardened cock throbbed with desire as he lathered her mouth with wet kisses and stroked her bare, sensuous arms with his strong hands.
He remembered the way she had moaned a little when his knee gently wedged her legs apart-how her taut little ass had trembled in his grasp! Kacey was a sensuous piece of femininity all right. Beneath that demure facade, under that straight-laced demeanor was a fantastic sex machine. But though he knew she was aroused, he always found that at a certain moment-the
'moment of truth' as it were, a door would clank shut inside her head, and he would be left with searing frustration and a very real ache in his groin. That night on the beach was no different.
When they were walking back to her apartment, along the esplanade, he had suddenly proposed. Yes, almost on impulse, though he had toyed with the idea for a while. But he wasn't sure if he really wanted to make the big plunge into matrimony (though he knew she would never go for a 'living together' arrangement. Not Kacey.) And what the hell, he was really knocked out about her. But from somewhere deep in his consciousness had come the nagging thought that maybe it was a way to get her into bed-the final solution to the virgin problem!
Three weeks and twenty-one aching groins later here they were, at the Kauai Surf, on beautiful Kalapaki Beach in Kauai-the Garden Island. The tropical dream. Lush and alive and in full color. And so was Kacey. God, no wonder he was nervous. You can lead a woman to an enchanted island paradise, but can you make her drink the sweet wine of love ... bed love ... body wine? Can you make her...?
"Isn't this heavenly, darling!" crooned Kacey as they stood on the lanai and looked out over the lavish scenario.
"Fantastic," Steve agreed. "A hundred thousand tourists can't be wrong!"
"All this and free leis, too," she teased.
"How do you spell that, ma'am?" he kidded. But he felt a tiny blister of resentment bubble in his mind. Why did she have to taunt him like that? Or maybe she was throwing out a skimpy hook attached to a cautious line. It's got to be tonight, he thought. Sure, she had insisted on twin beds-these twin beds happened to be queen sized!-had made him promise to respect her wishes. She would really try to let go, she had said, but she wanted a gentleman's agreement that he would not push her further than her mind allowed. He swore on his honor that he would respect her feelings completely but he made a private vow on his manhood that he would turn heaven and hell to get up inside her snug little cunt! As he remembered his vow, desire fanned the ever-burning flame in his loins and he responded with an even firmer bulge in his white Levi's. Unconsciously he moved closer to her, so that he was pressing against the flimsily-covered buttocks. Kacey started a little. He felt her muscles tense against his body. Was it fear, or the rudiments of desire. She gave a nervous little laugh. "Now Steve, don't start that, "she cautioned. "Start what, my love?" he answered innocently. He nuzzled his cheek against her head. God, her hair was fragrant better than the magenta blossoms growing around the lanai-she must have washed it before they left Laguna Beach for the airport. He reeled with the scent of her hair, her perfumed skin, the feel of her lithe body against him. That song from "West Side Story" circled his brain like a 10-second record: "Tonight ... tonight ... won't be just any night ... tonight there will be no morning star...."
* * *
Kacey McQueen was an extraordinarily beautiful girl. Irish as a shamrock, with a figure that would charm the leprechauns out of their lairs-or any healthy male out of his, Kathleen Cecelia (thus K.C.) McQueen was the firstborn of Mary and Patrick (Paddy) McQueen, the elder sister (by two years) of Timothy Andrew, who adored her with a fervor that was incestuous.
Kacey's mother was a Hayes-definitely "lace-curtain" Irish. Mary's father was a Dublin banker and much respected in the community. The family had relatives in Boston, and when Mary's father was killed in a tragic accident (he was struck down by a tinker's wagon when the drunken tinker lost control of the horses on the way home from a pub) Mary's mother took the children to America, to live with her Boston cousins. It was in an Irish settlement there that Mary Hayes grew up and met Patrick McQueen, a "shanty" Irishman her mother didn't approve of. But Paddy had considerable charm and evident powers of persuasion. After meeting secretly several times in the garage where Paddy worked as an apprentice mechanic, Mary found that she was pregnant. Her mother was crushed, but arranged a simple wedding for the two youngsters immediately.
Mary never got over the humiliation that wedding-of-necessity caused her. She became bitter towards her young groom, feeling superior to his humble roots, and retaining childish fantasies of handsome gentry courting her in old world fashion. Herself barely more than a child, she had to become a mother too. And though she dearly loved her beautiful infant daughter, she was burdened by the responsibilities of motherhood. She grew to hate her husband, and gradually projected this loathing onto all men. She vowed her daughter would never suffer the agonies she had endured.
It was under this pall of bitterness and shame that Kacey grew into womanhood. Though her mother rarely spoke of her father in a demeaning way, and never mentioned sex, Kacey somehow developed fears and fantasies of her own about men. She loved her father, but she feared him too, and sometimes reacted contemptuously to his 'shenanigans'. She remembered the times when she was a little girl, when she would be startled awake by her father, bending over her as she slept in her bed, his face close to hers, always a strong smell of liquor on his breath. It wasn't of his drunkenness that she was afraid-her father never beat her (though many times she had heard him strike her mother in the bedroom that was next to hers). No, there was something else, another kind of fear. But she couldn't identify it; couldn't give it a name.
Kacey looked like her father, though. She had the same, magnificent auburn hair, with eyes to match. Long black lashes. High cheekbones and a thinly-bridged nose that turned up just a bit.
Though she was a redhead, Kacey had the kind of skin that could take a tan. A few freckles dotted her face, arms and legs. They only enhanced her appeal. In fact, Kacey looked her best with a tan, and knowing this, she arranged to live near the ocean all of her life.
Oceans mean beaches, and beaches mean bikinis, and all were made to order for Kacey. What a bod! It didn't seem possible that any woman could have such full and thrusting breasts, such artistically curved hips and thighs, such long, perfectly-shaped legs. But Steve had seen her in a bikini walking in the sand at Laguna Beach, with three or four guys panting after her, and he knew that she was perfectly formed in every way. That first day he knew he had to have her, had to enjoy her totally, with every part of his body in union with every part of hers. Little did he dream that this living, breathing 'venus, this super-sensuous sexpot was a touch-me-not, 23 year old virgin with about as many psyche hang-ups as a three-week wash! But this setting, so sensual in itself, this place-a cozy Polynesian bungalow privately nestled in the phallic palm trees and lush tropical foliage ... so far from Laguna Beach, from the hustle and bustle "the States" (he knew intellectually that Hawaii was a state too, but just couldn't accept it emotionally) ... if this didn't crack her defenses, nothing would.
He pressed closer to her. He felt her move backwards imperceptibly, pressing her warm flanks into his pelvis a bit more. He tilted his face forward, resting his chin against her temple. She turned her face upwards. Suddenly they were kissing, mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue-probing, caressing, abandoning their lips and tongues to each other in a kind of oral mating dance. Two slippery snakes sliding in and out of two warm, sensuous caverns. Teasing, tickling, darting, curling. He was fucking her mouth with his tongue, that's what it was. A prelude to the other mating dance ... the one he had to do!
Kacey closed her eyes and let the pressure of his lips propel her into the cradle of his muscular arms. Her mouth was open, not just in surrender, but in eager participation. She felt the delicious, tingling touch of Steve's tongue as it skipped lightly across the sensitive underside of her lips, and then the electric shock of it as it thrust like a prod into the steamy confines of her mouth.
Steve turned Kacey around and pulled her tighter against him. He could feel her response in the soft surrender of her lips, the squirming of her young, lithe body, the turgid nipples attentive beneath the smooth cotton dress. Geezus! It's got to be tonight. It just has to! the thought.
"Kacey, my sweetest," he murmured as he breathed into her shell-like ear.
"Steve, oh Steve," she cooed, pressing her body tightly against his, feeling the tingling sensations of pleasure course warmly through her responsive young body. Her mind was saying, "Stop!" but her body overruled the intellectual command. She swayed, moving her stiffened nipples against his shirt. She was relaxing into the moment, allowing her body to savor the warm, delicious contact, letting his insistent knee spread her heated thighs. The fragrant island air made its way uninhibitedly up her dress and nestled in the shallow valley at the top of her curvaceous thighs. She was aware of a creamy wetness in the sheer panties that embraced her private places. She shuddered involuntarily with shocks of delight as Steve's tongue lapped her sensitive neck.
"Kacey, oh Kacey, I want you so much ... so much!" Steve whispered into her open mouth. "Kacey...."
"Shhhhh ... no words, love. No words. Just kisses, sweet heavenly kisses."
Steve was eager to comply. His agile tongue like a slippery instrument deftly wielded by a master technician, thrust itself hotly deep into the warm and salivating depths of her beautiful mouth, sending sensation after sensation through the inflamed nerve ends of Kacey's body. As she sucked on it, soft murmurs of passion emanated from her kiss-swollen lips. Then, as his hand rose slowly up her ribcage to embrace one of her full breasts in a pleasure-filled caress, she found herself lifting her shoulder to tauten the thrusting flesh heightening the tantalizing sensation of his touch.
She groaned and allowed her thighs to part further. She could feel the trembling in her buttocks as her dress hiked higher up her thighs at the insistence of his knee thrusting deeper between her legs.
The velvet air, the fragrant mokihana berries, the sounds of exotic birds and the azure sea lapping at the shore all conspired against her. She was giddy with passion, more so than she had ever been. She felt herself slipping into a heady twilight zone between reason and desire. The long, trim legs tightened against his muscular thigh. She was aware of the crisply laundered feel of his Levi's against her supple bare flesh. His knee was cradled up against her slowly moistened vagina. She had a brief and random thought: would the pool of wetness collecting in her panties seep through and stain his pants? Would he have to change before they went to dinner? How embarrassing!
No such thoughts diverted Steve. He was single minded, lost in desire-driven by one sole ambition: get the ball in the cup! He was calculating the odds as his fingers massaged the tender nipple of her willing breast. Would it be a nine-iron shot (God forbid!) to get her to the bed, or was he on the putting green now? Gotta watch out for sand traps-he'd thought he'd get a hole-in-one long before this, but every time, he'd bogeyed! Perhaps he'd hit the cup tonight, after so much time on the course with nothing scored, with nothing but an aching club dangling between his legs!
While one hand lavishly caressed the fleshy mound of her breast, he let the other slide down her back to her slender waist, then downwards along the arc of her trim little ass. He paused there, fondling the voluptuous hills and she leaned further into him in delicious approval. She was really letting go tonight, letting go as she had never done before. Was it Hawaii, the magic of this setting, the distance between them and her job with Coldwell Banker in Laguna Beach, his job as junior account executive with BBDO in LA? Was it the privacy-no roommates (his or hers) to pop in on them in an intimate moment? He didn't know, and frankly didn't care. He knew only that he had to get inside before the heat of her passion subsided and things ended up the way they always had before: Kacey suddenly jerking away from him and putting space between them before his throbbing desire allowed his mind to come up with a suitable defense. Usually she would mutter something unintelligible as she bolted out the door or ran off alone down the beach. Sometimes he actually thought she was nuts, that she had a screw loose somewhere though he knew it sure as hell wasn't from any screwing! But who knows?-chicks are weird anyway, even the best of them. Never was a guy who put the pieces of the puzzle known as "The Female Species" together. Not even Byron, Lothario or D. H. Lawrence-though Lawrence had probably come close. Besides, he rationalized, there had to be a moment, had to be that one instant of abandon-Pow! he'd nail her on the spot, he'd get that prize, hit that jackpot, score that hole-in-one on the toughest course he'd ever played ... Kacey McQueen.
That moment had to be tonight, Steve figured. Kacey the luscious, Kacey the delectable, Kacey the 23 year old virgin sexpot was as good as gotten!
He knew that he had to be careful not to rock the boat too hard. He couldn't take a chance on upsetting the delicate balance of her finely-honed emotions. He had waited too long, worked too hard for this coveted trophy to risk its agonizing loss!
What was with Kacey anyway? Before he met her he figured that there were no virgins over twelve! Women had always responded easily to his dark good looks, to his firm muscular body, and he had lost count of the numbers of bed partners he had frolicked with in his 28 years. Kacey McQueen was the one dame, in fact, that he hadn't been able to bang.
There seemed to be something psychologically twisted deep in her mind that prevented her from accepting the final caress that would have opened her sacred vault to him in complete surrender to his manhood. Just at the approach of that final moment something seemed to snap inside her head, and she would go into a kind of fierce animalistic panic, lashing out at him verbally as though he were some degenerate bent on forcible rape. At those times, her fits of anger and outrage made her unrecognizable to him, and he reacted with hurt and bewilderment, like a child beaten for a misdemeanor he did not commit.
Really, it seemed to him as though some evil spirit had taken possession of her and was fiendishly manipulating her-body, mind and soul.
He knew that he was in love with her there was no doubt in his mind about that-but he also knew that he had to somehow overcome this strange psychic barrier that stood between them and ultimate happiness. He wanted her God, how he wanted her! He genuinely felt that he wanted her to be his wife. But how could he take the plunge into marriage until he had taken the plunge into Kacey? He needed reassurance, needed to know that she would indeed behave normally once they were married; that she could willingly accept a normal male-female sexual relationship. But there was always this nagging fear that perhaps even then she'd go off on her weird, mind-blown and mind-blowing trips and he'd be left literally holding the bag. The thought had even crossed his mind fleetingly that maybe she was a latent lesbian, that maybe she secretly dug women, or would like to but her repressed her desires because of guilt and shame and her whole Irish uptight mind-fucking thing. No, that was out of the question. Kacey responded too convincingly to his kisses, to his caresses, to the feel of his body pressed against hers. She just needed time, some powerful persuasion and perhaps, a shrink! Moreover, he reassured himself, if he could break her resistance this once, just once, she'd be free forever of her kinky hang-ups about sex. She had never been this passionate, this abandoned with him before. Yes, he mused with growing confidence, it's going to be tonight!
"Kacey, you're fantastic," he breathed into her ear. "You're the most incredible woman on earth. A goddess. An absolute goddess. And I'm so knocked out about you I can't see straight."
Kacey started to speak, but Steve quickly halted her reply with a fervid kiss that enveloped her whole mouth. Meanwhile he had maneuvered his hand from her softly trembling buttocks down her thigh and up under the raised hem of her skirt. Like a slow-moving serpent, his hand eased upward, one finger at a time, slid along the silken expanse of thigh ... upwards, slowly, skillfully. Goose bumps rose on the dusky flesh of her bare thighs like miniscule moguls on a manicured ski slope. If he could get his hand in the cup then it could only be moments before she would accept his throbbing cock. Oh please, you beautiful kook, please don't thwart me now, he was saying over and over to himself.
A gentle finger touched the edge of Kacey's filmy panties. Steve felt her stiffen slightly, and he drew her desperately closer. The finger snake slithered cautiously through the softly curling forest of pubic hair. Just one thirty-second of a inch more and it would slip into the silky crevice, slide along the thin, moist trench to her tiny mountain of desire. Gently, gently. Easy, fella. Steve compelled all of his forces of restraint. Control now was the acid test to end acid tests. He wanted nothing more than to rip off Kacey's panties, unleash his swollen cock and fuck her on the spot, the way he had seen Brando do it in "Last Tango in Paris".
Kacey gasped and shuddered and then suddenly, inexplicably, pulled back. There was a fierce look in her auburn eyes. Sparks seemed to fly from them like chips of fire from a blacksmith's anvil. Steve clutched her hardened breast tighter with one hand while his other finger grabbed hold of the softly curling pussy hair inside her panties. Hs voice was coarse with passion and emotion as he tremblingly begged, "Kacey, no. Please, Kacey, don't make me stop. Don't hold back this time, honey. Not now. I've never wanted you so much ... I've never wanted anything so much in my life as I want you now. Please honey. Oh please. You want it too, Kace. I know you want it...."
Steve tried to kiss her, but she turned her head away sharply. She clutched at his biceps in a fierce, clawing, clenching way. She was becoming a wildcat. The demon had sprung. The demon had rushed in to seduce her before Steve had been able to.
"Stop it, Steve," she screamed at him. "Stop it! Stop it." Her beautiful face was distorted with emotion. Anger, fear, passion. Steve noticed the cords distended on Kacey's smooth, tawny throat as she fought to get away.
"Steve, you promised. You promised to respect my feelings," Kacey blurted at him. Wetly streaming tears had begun to fill her enormous eyes and cascade down the firm, round cheeks.
Steve relaxed his hold on her, taking his fingers reluctantly away from her smooth breast and from the dank cavern between her legs to envelop her in a restrained embrace. "But Kace, Kacey darling," he managed, "I was respecting your feelings. I was following your feelings, your response, your body language ... everything said 'Don't stop'. It was 'All systems go' ... You know it was."
At this Kacey broke away from him and rushed to the far side of the lanai. Tears of outrage streamed down her beautiful Irish face. Ugly thoughts roared through her head like a rebellious train racing out of control through the night. Oh, why couldn't he let her have her secret little pleasure, take what she could allow herself to give him and be content with that for the moment? Why did he have to assume that her response to his probing hands and fingers was an invitation to go further, to thrust his coarse male hardness up into her tender body?
They were all the same. No man was content to just kiss and cuddle and caress-to hold her intimately, but not too intimately. They couldn't recognize the beauty of delicious restraint. No, they had to get between her legs with their hard, cruel rods of flesh and split her apart before they were satisfied. They were all just like ... just like ... her father! The blinding insight suddenly split her brain like a diamond cutter's chisel. Her father! Yes, that was why she feared him. That was why she secretly loathed him. Those nights when she awakened in the dark night to feel his breath on her face. The sounds that emanated from the adjacent bedroom. Her mother's stifled sobs following the crack of cruel hands buffeting a tender woman's face!
Night after night, she remembered now, she had heard her father's coarse gruntings, heard the squeaking mattress heave rhythmically beneath the pair, hear her mother's pitiful moans and outcries as she submitted to the nightly ritual of horror. Kacey's body shivered involuntarily as again the ghastly sounds throbbed through the ears of her mind the way they had when she had lain in her small bed as a child-helpless to aid her tortured mother. Like an excruciating bolt of lightning, the agonizing realization hit her-her father's lust for her had been the bellows that fanned the flame of his passion-passion he used to violate her gentle mother.
Yes, it was clear now: Kacey's father had always desired his luscious little girl; always wanted to plant his evil penis into the virgin child. She had sensed this repugnant fact in her sub-consciousness long before reason could indicate it to her and to defend herself from that unacceptable reality, had transferred the thought from her consciousness to somewhere deep within the subconscious archives of her mind. Unknowingly, she had vowed to herself then as a tiny girl that she would never allow a man to take her virginity away as long as she lived-never! But as she flowered into womanhood, Kacey found that she was subject to social pressures from her peer group that strongly guided and controlled her actions despite her fear-based convictions. In high school some of the guys she went out with started rumors that she was a "PT"-a prick tease who flirted and led guys on but would never "go all the way". When Kacey learned of the things that were being said about her she was deeply hurt and bewildered, and eventually accepted fewer and fewer dates. Her reluctance to go out only fanned the rumors, and she even found her closest friends looking at her in strange ways. Finally, in a desperate attempt to appear "normal", she began to go out more and even indulged in some heavy petting, which she found she really enjoyed-up to a point. Then a warning bell would clang in her mind and she would feel a wave of coldness flush over her like an icy blast of water from a fire hose. No. She couldn't bear the thought of letting a man probe into the secret cavern of her vagina with his hardened rod of male flesh. She couldn't bear the searing pain she knew she would feel if she gave up her virginity.
"Kacey...." Steve said tentatively. Steve was slipping his arms around her, pulling her gently against his loins. She could feel his hard, distended penis under his Levi's throbbing against her firm-fleshed bottom. Kacey reacted with a jolt as she felt the long, stiff cylinder of flesh pulsate into the crevice of her buttocks.
"Steve, please, I've had enough!" Kacey spat the words out into the heady air like so many olive pits. She jerked his hands from her waist and pushed past him, striding into the spacious bed-sitting room and grabbed a pack of Salems from her purse on the bed. With trembling hands she lighted a cigarette and started to pace anxiously around the room. Steve stood for a moment more on the deflowered lanai, his face flushed with anger and frustration. Then he walked into the room, the bulge under his fly still highly apparent.
"K-Kacey ... honey ... I don't get it," Steve stammered. "I...." Kacey's voice, usually so soft and appealing, was flinty, clipped as she interrupted, "You don't get it! You mean you haven't gotten it yet!" she snapped. "You're just like the rest of them. You all have just one thing on your minds-'to get it'!"
Steve stared at her in slack-jawed disbelief at her sudden outburst. "No, Kacey. I swear I didn't. It's just that, dammit all, I love you, Kace, and it's only natural to desire the woman you love."
"Yeah, sure it is, Saint Steven," she retorted contemptuously. "You just want to use that horrible thing on me the way you've used it on every other woman who'd let you ... and all in the name of love?"
Her vindictive accusation cut him to the quick, and Steve really blew his cool. "Kacey, for God's sake, what the hell's so wrong about me wanting you? We're supposed to be engaged, aren't we?" he blurted.
"So for a kiss and a promise I'm supposed to strip off my clothes and spread my legs for you like every other girl does!"
"My, aren't we crude tonight, Miss McQueen," Steve chided.
"Well, what do you call that ... that thing you just forced onto me! That's your whole life, isn't it ... finding female sockets you can plug into? Sticking women with that instrument of male vanity and ego. That's the only thing that counts with you, isn't it? I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me ... feel it at your every touch." Kacey was almost screaming at him, and there was a crazed look in her dark eyes. They glowed like hot coals.
"All right, goddamn it. All right!" Steve shouted back. "But I'm not buying your high and mighty bit right now, baby, because you can't tell me you didn't dig what we were doing on the lanai just now. You were hot as a firecracker, baby, and if you're honest with yourself you'll have to admit that it's true!"
"So what if I was?" she hissed. "That doesn't mean that I wanted to subject to the disgusting thing you had in mind!"
"Disgusting?" Steve questioned in disbelief. "Subject yourself? ... Is that the way you really feel about something as normal and natural as making love?"
"Don't try to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. The very thought of callously ramming a vicious organ into a woman's helpless body is repulsive ... and ... yes, disgusting to me!"
"Well, baby, if you really feel that way then you're sicker than I thought," Steve ground out through clenched teeth.
At this Kacey turned on him like a cornered tiger. He had gotten to her, had resurrected a nest of doubts about herself that she kept well-buried from her consciousness. She retaliated defensively in a desperate attempt to protect her ego.
"You call me sick? ... Just because I have pride and sensitivity. Because I value myself as a woman, value my woman's possession. Because I don't feel ready to be hurt and humiliated by your torturing penis ... because I don't want to become a sexual doormat for you the way my mother was for my father? If you really loved me you'd let me face things my way, you'd be patient and understanding with me."
"Christ, Kacey, how could any man be more patient than I've been?" Steve shouted with exasperation. "You're the first woman I've ever had to be 'patient' with in my life ... the first damn woman and probably the only woman I could wait so long for."
"See...." Kacey chided. "You just said it, didn't you? You just admitted in so many words that you were only after my body; that you only wanted another trophy for your collection. What a bastard you are, Steve."
"If being a bastard means that I'm a normal, healthy male with normal, healthy desires, then I accept the title gratefully, dear lady madonna."
"Don't cheapen me, please!" Kacey screamed at him. "And don't try to cheapen the Blessed Virgin either. You're treading on hallowed ground."
"I wouldn't dream of demeaning your religious convictions, miss." Steve answered with mock sincerity. "Matter of fact, the only similarity between you and the other lady in question is that you are a virgin-a 23 year old virgin who'll probably go to her great reward that way, never knowing the joy and fulfillment of a beautiful male-female relationship in bed. Yes, I shall call you The Cursed Virgin, and leave it at that." Steve hastily grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Kacey had to get in a parting shot, another ego wound to pay him back for his stinging putdown.
"Now doncha go 'way mad," she cooed sarcastically. "Did somebody hurtum's somebody's manwy pwide ... or is him just a poor loser?"
Steve turned at the door, his hand clenching the door knob. He gave her a slow, half smile. "It's simpler than that," he said evenly. "I just don't like frigid bitches."
"Thanks ever so," she gasped, a cold chill running down her spine. Could it be . , . ?
"Don't thank me, baby. Go see your friendly neighborhood shrink!"
"Why? So like any other man, he'll tell me to lie back and enjoy it the way you want me to?" She laughed contemptuously, her composure returning somewhat from his cruel diatribes. She was beginning to goad him again. "So I can subject myself to the same kind of disgusting ritual you want to put me through?"
Steve shook his head and laughed sardonically. "No, Kacey, so that you'll learn just how fucked-up you really are ... So that you'll discover that you're probably queer for women ... that what you really want is to find a nice dyke somewhere and make it with her, allowing you to keep that little treasure trove of yours intact while getting some kicks along the way. Well you can keep your goddamned virginity, lady. The prize just ain't worth the pain!"
With that Steve slammed the door behind him and bolted down the path that led from the cottage to the main lodge. Kacey swayed under the impact of Steve's humiliating insults coursed through her brain. Bitter tears ran down her anguished face as she threw herself on the bed in wild surrender to the sobs she had suppressed during their argument. Anger, fear, shame, self-loathing and hate swirled inside her head like dry leaves in an autumn wind.
"Oh dear God," she sobbed into the bedspread, "why does it have to be this way? Why? Why are they all like my father?" She thought back to all the times in the last seven or eight years when guys had tried to get into her panties. She had had some close calls, but had somehow managed to handle situations with wisecracks or putdowns or charm. But she had never gotten this close before to being had, to being an ex-virgin!
Could he be right? she questioned herself.
Am I just a frigid bitch? Or worse, could I be a ... a lesbian? This latter notion was too shameful to bear, and Kacey reacted with more body-wracking sobs. But from somewhere in her consciousness came the disclaimer-No ... no, that can't be so! I've never had the slightest fantasies about women. The very thought of being with a woman ... in that way ... it's too repulsive!
But ... have I ever had any real feeling for men?
The sudden awareness of the warm, wet puddle between her legs answered the question affirmatively. I must like it, she breathed to herself. Yes, I'll have to admit that I loved what was happening. But, ugh! (The thought of a cruel, hard penis being forced deep inside her that, and the thought of its hot, sticky passion fluid gushing out into her helpless belly-sent waves of repulsion rippling through her lissome belly.) No ... no ... dear God, no ... no....
Finally, emotionally exhausted, her body spent with sobbing, Kacey fell asleep.
* * *
CHAPTER TWO
Kacey opened her eyes suddenly, as though a bare, bright light bulb had been turned on in her brain. But the room was dark, except for a soft ribbon of moonlight that stretched from the lanai across the bed to the wall beyond. For an instant she thought she was in her apartment at Laguna Beach. Then reality jarred her into the moment, and she remembered the agonizing scene with Steve, the way he slammed the door with such finality, her tears-everything. What time was it? She raised up on one elbow and looked at her watch. 11:30! It didn't seem possible that she could have slept so long. She put the watch to her ear. It ticked happily. Gnawing pains in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten since they were served "dinner" at 4:00 P.M. on the plane. She had set her watch ahead afterwards, so she was on Hawaii time all right.
Slowly she rose from the bed, noticing the wrinkles in her print dress. There were wrinkles from Steve-from when he had hiked it up while forcing her thighs apart-and wrinkles from sleeping on her stomach. Kacey made a half-hearted attempt to smooth them out, then with an acquiescent shrug, made her way to the tiny kitchenette. Opening the pint-sized refrigerator, she saw that there were two canned Mai Tai cocktails and a discreet folding card beside them-"Aloha from the Management. We hope you enjoy your stay."
Kacey tore the tab off of one of the cans and poured the contents into a nearby glass. Oh well, it's got some fruit juice in it. That's nourishing, she rationalized to herself. She found it good to the taste, cold and very refreshing. She walked to the bathroom, drink in hand, stopping to get a cigarette along the way.
She flipped on the switch. The sudden brightness stung her swollen eyes. Well, she thought, this is quite posh. A look at the bidet reminded her of its function, and she shuddered involuntarily.
Kacey took a couple of long swallows from the Mai Tai, turned on the shower, and stripped the cotton dress and sheer panties from her body. She noticed a slight stain in the center of her underwear. Without looking at her reflection in the mirror, she stepped inside the shower and let the cascading water flow over her supple flesh. She lathered and scrubbed more than once, in an effort to purge her body and her mind from the verbal abuse she had suffered hours before.
It occurred to her suddenly that Steve might come back to the cottage and find her naked there. She imagined that he had gone to the bar and would be dangerously drunk by now. She couldn't face him that way. In fact, she couldn't bear to face him even if he were stone sober. That would be worse! She had to get out of the bungalow, had to go off somewhere where she would be safe from his assaults-both verbal and mental.
Quickly Kacey dried herself, took a fresh dress from the suitcase, and, without bothering to put on any makeup, but lipstick, grabbed her purse and went out the door.
A cantaloupe moon lighted the path along the row of bungalows atop the bluff. Most of them were dark, though occasionally there would be laughter and sounds of clinking glasses from behind closed draperies. Kacey hurried on, hoping not to encounter another guest along the path, praying that she would not see Steve's tall frame approaching her!
She circumvented the big hotel, noticing the gyrating figures of brown Tahitians dancing to incessant drum beats. That must be the Polynesian Revue the brochure promised, she thought to herself. The spacious room was filled with appreciative Americans, all wearing their complimentary leis, and many with wildly printed shirts and muumuus. She wondered if the real Hawaiians hated the sight of insurance salesmen and auto dealers and their overweight spouses trying to "go native". She personally thought that most of these misplaced mainlanders looked ridiculous in Hawaiian garb.
The sand was still warm from the tropical sun. It felt delicious under Kacey's bare feet. For some reason she felt almost happy as she scuffed along the beach, sandals in her hand, The orange moon looked close enough to bite. She was free-at least for the moment-free of the pain, the conflict that had plagued her earlier. She wanted to walk forever on the foot-caressing sand. Kacey forgot to look around. If she had, she would have seen the lights from the hotel grow smaller and smaller, then vanish completely when she followed the beach around some jutting rocks.
She did notice that the moon had gotten smaller. It seemed out of reach now; still bright, but unattainable.
After walking a while more, Kacey began to feel pleasantly fatigued. She sat down on the shimmering sand and gazed up at the sky, trying to pick out the galactic formations and trying to forget the shame that Steve had made her feel. She knew he was wrong. It was her right, her duty to protect her virginity. How could he have been so unfair? A lesbian! She was about as much a lesbian as he was!
Quite unexpectedly she was struck with something she had learned in a grade school science class: The moon appears smaller as it ascends the horizon. This is because the earth is turning on its axis. That's why we have moonrises and moonsets-just the way we have sunrises and sunsets. Kacey looked at her watch. Good God! Almost one o'clock! She suddenly felt a wave of panic as the realization dawned on her-she must have walked a long way from the hotel. She jumped to her feet and began to jog back to the Kauai Surf. The sand had cooled, it seemed. The dense cluster of trees that scalloped the beach at the base of the bluffs seemed ominous, judge mental.
Perhaps, if she hadn't been jogging-or if the surf hadn't come up as it did-Kacey might have realized that someone was following her....
* * *
The slapping sound of her bare feet against the firm sand filled the air around her.
With a little sigh of relief, Kacey saw the pin pricks of light from the hotel come into view. Thank God, she said to herself. The Kauai Surf was still far away, but at least she could see it now. It was a welcome reference point.
Suddenly she felt the sand vibrating differently under her feet. She had been around beaches long enough to know what that meant-there was someone else running on the beach too! ... someone who was keeping pace with her. Fear gripped her like a vice. Her heart throbbed in her throat. Kacey quickened her step. She was tired, really tired now, but she had to keep going. Her adrenalin glands were pumping fuel into her limbs, urging her forward faster and faster. Her throat was parched.
Then, the vibrating sand warned her that the footsteps were coming closer ... and closer. She could hear the staccato breathing of another human being, and that being was pursuing her!
Suddenly she felt a blast of warm air on the back of her legs. Two steely arms closed around her calves in a flying tackle that sent her down on all fours. Kacey screamed into the night and strained to crawl away, but the panting giant tightened his hold, moving his iron arms up her thighs to her pelvis. He pulled her backwards, scooting her struggling body along the sand until he reached the protective shadows of the trees. Kacey squirmed and screamed, attempting to pummel her captor's face and shoulders with her slender fists. But it was of no avail.
A large hand came out of the blackness and planted itself across her mouth. Kacey was paralyzed with fear. Her heart beat so frantically she was afraid it would burst her eardrums.
"You an' me," a husky voice spoke out in a thick, island accent, "we're gonna fuck...."
The voice was cold, emotionless. "I'm gonna let go of your mouth, but one peep outta you and I'll kill you...." he threatened as he threw her roughly to the ground on her back.
It occurred to Kacey, in her fear-frozen state, that no one would hear her anyway, even if she should scream at the top of her lungs. The hotel was still nearly a quarter of a mile away. And there had been no one on the beach ... nothing but a couple of outriggers and some enormous casting nets the islanders used for catching fish. Of course! Why had she been so stupid? If there were nets there must be fishermen nearby. This crude beast ... was he one of them?
Kacey felt the chilling shaft of steel against her throat. A machete! She had seen some young Hawaiians using them to split coconuts for the tourists when she and Steve arrived at the hotel.
Kacey lay back stiffly, frozen to the sand, too petrified to move as the rapist knelt above her. he was hovering like an avenging angel, blotting out the moon with his massive hulk, a menacing silhouette against the sky. Fear knotted her stomach and made her nauseous.
"Now, life that dress up and pull them panties down."
"Oh, God, no! Please don't do it to me!" Kacey whimpered and pleaded like a helpless child. "I ... I've never...."
"Shut you' mouth!"
She sucked in her breath sharply as the nightmarish figure suddenly pressed the smooth, cold blade of the machete harder down against her throat. Through her tortured mind stampeded the fear Oh God, he's going to kill me!
With that her hand dropped in helpless surrender to the hem of her dress, and trembling with abject fear, she began pulling it up slowly over the rounded fullness of her thighs, her body shivering with dread at what she knew would happen to her once she was stripped naked before this lusting animal.
"Hurry up!" he ordered as she reluctantly hooked her thumbs under the thin elastic waistband of her panties. The creature grunted in disapproval at her slowness and, while holding the knife to her throat with one hand, roughly shoved the other under her buttocks and ripped the flimsy panties from around her flesh.
Kacey tried to cover her pubic triangle with her hands. She squeezed her golden thighs together in a useless effort to protect her nakedly exposed vagina from the wanton invader.
"Spread those legs, dammit, and spread 'em wide!" he commanded. And without waiting for her to comply, he flung her hands away from her loins in a sweeping gesture, catching some of her pubic hair in his hand. Kacey gave out a little whimper of pain before the hand returned to force her legs apart as easily as if they were twigs. Mounting excitement was evidenced in his increasingly rapid breathing as he ordered, "Get that dress up higher or I'll rip it off you myself!"
The thought of possibly surviving his attack only to have to face the people at the lodge in the bruised and naked altogether caused Kacey to grab the edge of her dress and pull it up quickly over her quivering hips.
She knew that if he moved forward, or to either side he could see her face illumined by the moonlight. Was it crimson with embarrassment, or blanched with fear. Her face felt feverish, but her body shivered with cold, though the night air was really only tepid.
Suddenly Kacey had a strong desire to see the rapist's face; she wanted to see the brute who was bent on cruelly ripping her virginity from her without the slightest bit of conscience or compassion. What kind of man was he? What kind of man would subject another human being, a defenseless woman, to his fearsome lust ... slinking off into the night, uncaring and unthinking of the devastated body he left lying, used, sperm-filled and possibly pregnant, behind him?
Then, as though he were reading her thoughts, the man suddenly reached down with his rough hands and pulled his already desire-stiffened penis from his pants. Kacey shuddered. It was enormous! He pivoted on one knee and released a fountain of urine on the sand beside them. Kacey was revulsed. But then she thought, at least he didn't do it all over my lap and thighs! Oh God, help me!
When the man turned to urinate, a shaft of moonlight crossed his face and caught a responding gleam of light from one tooth. It was a silver tooth, a front tooth! She stared at him for a long, motionless moment as she lay there, forgetting the machete at her throat and her naked loins trapped between his knees. And in that brief moment she saw all she wanted to see.
Except for the silver tooth, it was just a face-true, a broad, brown, almost black native face, but just a face not unlike a thousand other male faces she had passed on a thousand streets. A slight disappointment registered in her dazed mind without her realization. Perhaps it was because she had always had an image set deep in her mind of how it would be the first time-if there was to be a first time-of how tender it should be. Perhaps it was a lot of things. She didn't know now nor would she ever know. All she knew at this moment was that she was about to lose all the things she had always fought to protect. And as for him, he felt nothing but raw, animal lust for her nakedly presented loins.
She would be just another warm, squirming piece of female flesh writhing beneath him, a human sacrifice to his bestial lust. Her vagina and belly were merely a vessel in which to ladle his burning sperm; thoughtlessly, heartlessly, without the slightest degree of love or care. Oh God ... knowing that this creature could derive as much satisfaction from a whore on the street or from her virginal young body was just too humiliating to bear. The greatest fear in her life had been that she would be used sexually as her mother had been used ... as an object, a nameless female cunt to be fucked and nothing else. Now this fear was to be realized on a Hawaiian beach. An unspeakable crime committed in a paradisical setting. How ironic....
Kacey began to sob softly and was slapped across the face for her tears. Holding the knife to her throat again, her tormentor leaned upon her body and pressed his face next to hers. He whispered coarsely, "I'm gonna fuck you, baby like you never got fucked before. But first, I got a couple other things in mind!"
As he whispered in her ear, Kacey became aware of a strange scent. It was a blend of coconut oil with the faint odor of fish. It wasn't offensive, really. Just distinctive. She had never smelled it on any of the men she had ever known on the mainland. Yes, it was a decidedly exotic scent. Did it come from his slick mat of black hair, or from his bare chest? Or did he have it on his hands? Could he be, in fact, one of the local net fishermen? Or did he work at the hotel? Or neither?
Kacey let out a strangled cry when the man's huge hand delved suddenly between her naked thighs, fingers searching ravenously around the silken reddish little pubic curls that -lined the soft, pink lips of her vagina. She fought frantically to squirm away but stopped as he pressed the knife more forcefully against her throat.
"Oh God ... please ... please ... stop!" she whispered loudly. Then, a broken gasp as a long, middle finger was worming teasingly up into the tightly pursed little mouth of her unstretched cunt.
"Aghhhhh!" Kacey cried in pain and surprise.
The man rose up on his haunches and fumbled with the belt on his trousers. She closed her eyes tightly as she heard him clawing desperately at the confining pants, seesawing them down his hips to the tops of his bended knees. Then he was at her again, impaling her trembling young vagina on his mercilessly teasing fingers. Tears streaked her face as the native inched forward and straddling her body until his knees were on either side of her head. This, though remembering something he had forgotten, he moved back down slightly so that his bare, muscular buttocks were resting against her ribcage. She felt she couldn't breathe. With a free hand he jerked her dress and thin, flimsy brassiere up around her neck so that her bare breasts were open to his gaze. Kacey winced, and she felt a thousand needles on her skin as the cool night air washed across her small, seed-like nipples ... until they budded into hardness-an involuntary hardness that she just could not control.
Then the savage assailant leaned forward and pressed his thickly throbbing cock into the smooth, soft valley of her breasts, causing the trembling white flesh to caress it.
She stared up at him, making the first naked contact with his eyes. She could feel them burning into her own, and she imagined that she could see her own terror-stricken face reflected in the dilated pupils of her captor. His mouth was contorted in a lust-curled grin that came from the depths of depravity ... from the depths of Hell. She could almost see the demons dancing in the darkness of his open mouth!
His voice crooned unintelligible epithets in a language she couldn't recognize. Was this part of the ritual, part of the awful ceremony of rape and ... perhaps death?
He crushed her full, resilient breasts in his hands, splaying them in all directions, kneading them so that they flowed like putty through his fingers, remolding themselves each time into a different form, like elusibe globules of mercury.
Kacey whimpered softly to herself, afraid the slightest protest would stir his anger. She had no recourse but to allow him to push the quivering twin mounds together, forming a smooth tunnel around his stiffened penis. Painfully he squeezed the white, lusciously soft flesh against the sides of his heavily throbbing cock ... and then, with gasps of passion bursting from his salivating mouth, began swaying rhythmically back and forth ... fucking his desire-hardened cock through the warm, soft channel of her nakedly pressed together breasts....
And with every thrust, the swollen, scarlet head of his giant prick appeared at the far end of the tunnel, buffeting against the bottom of her chin like a hungry eel darting from its cavern.
The tortured Kacey twisted her body beneath his massive frame, as he continued to fuck up between her nakedly exposed breasts with his enormously pujsating cock. She could feel the expanded organ throbbing and growing like a thing with a life of its own. It was like a mythical animal that grows from nothing into a pulsating creature of fear. Her breasts began to throb too; her nipples were seared with strange sensations as the rampaging piston plowed relentlessly through her tender cleavage, leaving a wet, slippery trail of his slowly seeping semen.
Suddenly the heavily panting animal released one of her breasts and pressed the finger he had wormed up into her open cunt softly against her lips so she could taste her own vagina. Quickly he withdrew it, sliding it across the slippery surface of her tightly closed mouth. Kacey gasped as she rapidly divined the creature's horrifying intention. Chuckling evilly to himself, the man repeated the obscene gesture, inching his pelvis slowly up towards her face as he thrust his finger into her mouth then, making tiny fucking motions in and out with it. The full impact of his lewd charade hit Kacey with the force of a sledgehammer. Her face contorted with fear, she silently pleaded for mercy that she knew was not to come. For the first time since she had so brutally been silenced before, Kacey spoke.
"Please," she implored, "please don't ... don't make me do that! Kill me if you want to, but don't make me do it!"
He answered her tearful pleas with a surge forward on her chest. His naked ass cheeks pressed heavily against her tiny, upthrust nipples. The rough twill of his trousers bothered her skin; the metal belt buckle grazed the tender flesh of her inner arm, just below the shoulder. The long, rigid penis bobbed menacingly before her eyes, his heavy, sperm-laden balls nuzzling her chin.
Kacey moaned piteously, aware that there was no alternative as she felt the rapist's hands clasp her cheeks, thumbs on either side of her full, quivering lips. Slowly he molded her mouth into a soft, sensuous oval that brought more grunts of desire from his throat. His panting increased as he placed the tip of his throbbing cock down into the small, erotic, lipstick-rimmed circle, feeling the heat of her fearfully panting breath against his crimson cock-head.
"Suck it!" he hissed down at her.
Kacey closed her eyes tightly and tried to turn her head away, but in brutal reprisal he thrust a hand into her coppery hair and pulled it savagely, until she thought her scalp would be torn from her skull. With the other hand he grabbed the machete and brought it quickly to her throat, almost piercing the amber skin with the point of the blade. Kacey cried out in fear and pain: "Aouuuhhh! Aouuuhhh!"
The man took this opportunity to thrust his lust-swollen cock deep into the soft, wet depths of her open .mouth. Kacey almost choked and tried to scream out around the bulging intruder but nothing came out but a low, incoherent gagging sound.
"Now! Suck it, i said! Suck it ... and suck it good!" he ordered, forcing her head up with his fingers clutching her long silken hair at its roots.
Kacey felt that her neck would break from the torturing pressure, but she compliantly closed her soft mouth around the heavily throbbing hardness. The pungent male odor of pre-cum wafted into her flaring nostrils, inscribing on her fear-stricken mind the certain end result of the task she must perform. Tears trickled along her temples and her body went limp as the thick penis filled her mouth.
"Suck me! Suck me, you bitch! Lick your tongue around my cock!" he growled down at her face jerking her head up and down as he ground his naked ass cheeks into the heavy pillowy softness of her breasts.
In her dazed shock and terror, Kacey had a realization that pierced her consciousness like an arrow from a marksman's bow: Oh my God! He's going to ... to cum in my mouth and there's no way I can stop him! There's nothing in this world I can do to prevent it! He's going to fuck my mouth like a filthy little whore ... and I have to let him, or else he'll kill me!
Then she knew that she had to live. She wanted her life more than she feared this depraved being astride her. And she knew that the only hope of preserving her life lay in appeasing this wanton stranger, in complying with his every twisted craving until she had sapped him dry and he had no strength or desire left to kill her. There was no other way! She had to please him as he had been pleased before!
For some peculiar reason, this life-assuring resolve comforted Kacey, and she relaxed in full resignation to whatever sexaul abuses might follow. She began to suck the islander's cock experimentally at first, and then with an instinctive expertise that greatly surprised her. Her pearl-like teeth nibbled teasingly at the hotly pulsing flesh making it jerk into greater hardness inside her mouth. Her agile tongue lapped almost eagerly now at the throbbing cock-as though proud of its new found skill ... flicking hotly at the oozing apex, along the lateral ridges of the desire-heated head, and down the sperm-filled tube underneath, to the gently swaying softness of his balls.
His naked loins, quivering with excitement pressed against her face, and his testicles slapped rhythmically down against the point of her chin as he began to fuck his heavily pulsating organ faster and faster in and out of her mouth, he flexed his hips to heighten the pleasure of her lips and teeth against it. Her mouth was a veritable, hungrily working suction pump now, drawing the semen up from his rhythmically jerking balls, up the long shaft of his mouth-fucking hardness until....
"I'm ... gonna ... cum ... I'm gonna cum in ... your ... mouth!"
A blast of hot, acrid semen spurted out from his cum-bloated cock, cascading flood-like from her desperately sucking mouth down into the open gorge in her throat. The man writhed and moaned with loud, guttural noises as wave after wave of electric pleasure shook his heaving body. He held her beautiful, cock-contorted face tightly between his knees for a seeming eternity while his wildly jerking penis pumped out his hotly frothing cum into her mouth and throat.
Kacey sputtered and almost choked as in wild desperation she swallowed gulp after gulp of his creamily gushing semen. A slight glint of pride that she was able to drain him this way filled her eyes as she looked up to meet his penetrating gaze. Cum, mixed with her own saliva, trickled lewdly out from the corners of her widely ovaled mouth down her chin and onto the smooth white skin of her neck.
The man hunched over her for a while longer before he slowly withdrew the softness of his sperm-drained cock from between her slack lips. The motion made a salacious little slurping sound. A few thin, remaining drops of semen seeped from the tip of the brownish organ and splattered wetly down onto her nakedly heaving breasts and stomach as the man dismounted.
Kacey's head lolled listlessly from side to side, barren of thought and feeling. Her tongue licked aimlessly at the edges of her semen-covered lips, and she attempted to life the back of her hand to her mouth to wipe away the last of the slippery liquid his obscenely exploding organ had deposited there, but she had no strength.
Her violent struggles against his depraved attack on her body had completely drained her of her determination, her will to resist, and even the pride she had before in her virginity.
She felt no sense of embarrassment, though she was almost totally nude, dress and ripped brassiere crumpled around her Shoulder blades, knees spread loosely apart. Her one remaining emotion was fear-the terrible fear of the unknown, of what her assailant might still do to her. For all she knew, he might ravage her poor body for hours and then kill her after he had satisfied his sexual lust.
Perhaps he would drag her battered body to a hidden cave. Or shove her remains in an outrigger and throw them to the sharks far out at sea. Or maybe he would just leave her nakedly spread body on the beach for others to discover and explore. Oh dear God, I've got to keep him from doing that! She suddenly remembered her vow to live. Then she turned her head in panic to eye her assaulter above her.
He was standing spread-eagled near her feet. His pants lay in a careless heap on the sand. He was all muscle-a big man, but he definitely was not fat. He reminded Kacey of one of those weight lifters you see photographed in fag magazines, though he wasn't grotesquely overdeveloped the way so many of those men were. But he must have done a lot of physical labor, or spent many hours pursuing muscle-developing sports to get a body like that. (If Kacey had been less haunted by fear and revulsion, she might have conceded that indeed the stranger had an extremely sensuous, appealing form.)
The man was stroking his cock, his eyes riveted to the nakedly vulnerable cunt between her legs. As she saw the limp penis begin to grow hard and smooth in his hand, the relief she felt at freeing her mouth from his tormenting organ, was replaced by a fear more intense than the one she'd felt before.
She had hoped against hope that the horribly perverse thing he had just subjected her to would satisfy him, would drain him of any further desire to violate her helpless body. But hope quickly faded as the man's stroking fingers massaged his monstrous penis to its full, swollen length and breadth again. He dropped heavily to his knees between her shapely legs.
"Now I'm gonna see if that li'l pussy of yours is as good a cock-sucker as your mouth is!" he taunted.
The husky voice was devoid of compassion, and in spite of her lack of strength, Kacey knew that she had to make one more attempt to save her virginity from this heartless madman. If that were possible, she might be able to salvage at least a tiny portion of self-respect from this excruciating nightmare. She raised up feebly on her elbows, her eyes beseeching him for mercy. But with a callous shove, he pushed her down flat on her back again.
"Save it, baby. You ain't got nowhere to go!" At this he grinned coldly as he leaned closer to her.
The word "rape" sent shudders of panic through Kacey's body. "Oh no ... no, please don't do 'it' to me!" she cried pitifully. "I can't take it ... , I....I'm a virgin. I'll take you in my mouth again. I'll give you money. There, take it ... (she nodded towards her purse a few feet away) take everything in my purse. But please don't put 'it' inside me!"
As soon as she said "virgin", Kacey knew it had been a terrible mistake. She had seen his look of momentary disbelief, then watched in growing terror as the brown face became a contorted mask of crazed lust at the realization of the prized catch he had netted. It was more than he could have hoped for-a young, beautiful yet innocent, incredibly desirable woman who was a virgin-that had been beyond his wildest fantasies!
No. There was no hope of being spared this crudest attack on her shame-ridden body. Kacey's desperate effort to preserve her chastity had fanned the native's passion into raging desire, and there was nothing at all she could do but lie submissively beneath his lust-driven body and let him snatch from her her most valued physical possession.
She closed her tear-splotched eyelids to shut out the sight of his broad, dark face leering hungrily at the sacred spoils of her unplundered vagina. An anguished moan escaped from her lips as the two rough hands grasped her behind the knees and pulled the long, graceful legs around his sturdy hips. Kacey's smooth, round buttocks slid along the sand beneath her until her widespread loins were dragged closer and closer to the turgid, pulsating cock. He was forcing her thighs wider and wider apart ... opening her curl-covered cunt for the ultimate sacrifice....
His hands slipped roughly under her helplessly quivering ass cheeks again to lift her up further up towards his lustfully throbbing hardness, spreading her thighs as far apart as they would go, opening her tightly clenched cuntal crevice wide to his eyes. Kacey moaned in abject shame as she suddenly felt the smooth shaft of his penis pulsate against the sensitive inner flesh of one thigh and press lewdly against the thin, vertical mouth of her nakedly spread vagina. She opened her eyes to make a pitiful plea for mercy, but the lascivious gleam in his lusting eyes told her it was futile to plead and protest.
An unhesitant hand lowered the engorged head to the tight, curl-fringed lips of her quivering cunt mouth. For a moment or two, the lasciviously grinning native maneuvered it up and down in the instinctively moistening slit beneath the softly wavering strands of pubic hair. Then he suddenly flicked his hips forward with an animal grunt that spiraled up to his lips from deep within his throat.
Kacey reacted with a stifled cry of shock and pain: "Aaaahhhhhhh!" She tried vainly to close her mind to the perverse sexual ordeal she was being subjected to. She prayed desperately that she might lose consciousness before the ravaging goliath impaled her unwilling and defenseless belly ... before that final, hymen-splitting thrust could leave its stamp of shame forever on her body and her brain. But instead, her mind was becoming more lucid, her senses were sharpened by the feel of the iron-hard cock-head forcing itself mercilessly up between the tender lips of soft, pink vaginal tissue.
"Aaaoowwwwww!" she wailed again as he levered forward more and the pressure against the tightness of her open cunt became almost intolerable. Her head flailed from side to side on the cool sand. Her face was contorted with agony, and she mumbled repeatedly words and bits of phrases that were completely unintelligible. Kacey's almost nakedly stripped body was nearly bent double now, her legs splayed out widely on either side of his hips her back arced toward the ground; her buttocks were wedged up tight against the man's muscularily sloping thighs. She had never felt so helpless, so naked in her life. She cursed Steve-so this is what he wanted to do to her!
Oh God, why didn't he kill her with that machete instead of killing her self-respect and robbing her forever of her chastity? ... why didn't he?
A sudden, searing pain between her legs halted her kaleidoscopic thoughts and she cried out in torment once again. "Aaarrgghhhhh!" came the choked sounds as she felt the fear-tensed muscles at the mouth of her vainly resisting vagina give way under the force of his relentlessly thrusting cock. He flicked his hips forward again and there was an accompanying wet little 'popping sound' as the lust-swollen head burst up through the pressured open mouth of her defenselessly upraised cunt.
"Ooooohhh God, no ... no! Stop, please stop ... you're killing me ... you're splitting me open! Oh God ... Oh God ... please stop ... please stop!"
But the lust-crazed rapist hovering over her was not to be denied. Kacey was given no time to adjust to the new and agonizing pain that seared up between her widespread legs. The native drew back on his haunches his lips drawn back over his teeth, and then thrust forward again ... fucking his passion-swollen rod deeper and deeper up into her reluctantly spreading cunt walls, increasing her agony a thousand-fold with each further fraction it penetrated up toward the center of her belly.
"Tight HI' pussy! Tight HP pussy!" he muttered over and over to himself as the feeling of his cock sunk partially up inside her helpless little cunt and the irrefutable assurance that he had a luscious, unwilling virgin pleading for mercy beneath him ignited every spark of lust-filled desire within him.
Then suddenly, he hit art even tighter, fleshy barrier, the thin, sensuous wall of her hymen. He paused, a wide grin of lustful anticipation spreading over his lips.
"Ohh ... Noo ... not that...." Kacey found the strength to whimper.
But her pathetic pleas fell on deaf ears. With a low, animal grunt his massive hands cupped Kacey's nakedly clenched buttocks and jerked her nakedly spread loins sharply upward as he simultaneously flicked his own pelvis downward, sending his bludgeoning cock, like a battering ram, through the thin, sensuous membrane of her cherished maidenhead and deep on up into her heaving belly.
"Asssssggggghhhh!" A shriek of agony loud enough to be heard in Oahu rocketed from her throat-but only for an instant. A calloused hand was clamped roughly over her mouth and the scream died at birth. Again the taint odor of fish and salt penetrated her nostrils as the hand pressed forcefully against her mouth. Kacey churned her body helplessly ... she was impaled on the giant cock like an insect on a collector's pin. Half-crazed with pain, she swiveled her head from side to side under his oppressive gag. Her lips had been forced back against her teeth, and as she twisted her head back and forth, her teeth cut a furrow in the center of his muscular palm.
For a moment the man desisted. Holding his loins tightly against her, his victoriously conquering cock planted deeply in her wide-split vagina, he halted his grinding thrust until she had quieted to half-consciousness beneath him.
Kacey lay with her head and shoulders on the chilly sand. Her arms were limp at her sides, and her eyes were closed. The hand had been taken from her mouth. Lying there under the moonlight, her face appeared to be deceptively serene, Ravelian. She might have inspired his Pavanne for a Dead Princess. But then, appearances are deceiving. In reality, Kacey was benumbed to the point of stupor by the terrible numbing pain in her belly. It was subsiding but still she was too numb, in fact, to care when the stranger's hands reached for her nakedly upthrust breasts.
There was a different sensation now, this time from her chest, as her nipples were pinched and twisted, tweaked and pulled until she felt them growing shamefully rigid on the peaks of her breasts. And then, the sharp, excruciating pain in her belly returned again overcoming the pleasure in her nipples as the rapist began to undulate his hips slowly around between her wide held thighs, grinding his rigid shaft teasingly in an out of her no longer virginal vagina. She sensed that he was reveling in the hurt and humiliation he was subjecting her to. It felt as though he were penetrating her beyond her womb and all the way up to her breasts. She felt she was being rent asunder. Oddly, her thoughts ran to the books she had read about savage Indians impaling their white female captives on thick pointed staves. In contrast, the Hawaiian people had a reputation for being among the friendliest on earth, though she remembered dimly what someone had told her: that until perhaps fifty or sixty years ago, the Islanders were split into warring tribes that often tortured then murdered captives from other enemy factions....
The man fucked her with contempt-the thing she had feared most. He did it without pity, without tenderness, without regard for her body or her feelings. She was merely a vessel in which to empty his filthy sperm. She was hardly more than a urinal to him-only the fluid deposited in her was not to be urine, but hot, lust-scalding cum!
A small sigh of relief escaped from her lips as his sinewy hands dropped from her breasts to her well-formed thighs. His thumbs dug into her groin, pulling her to his rippling abdomen each time her surged forward into her belly with his massive cock. He seemed insatiable, indefatigable. Onto Kacey's tormented brain skated the thought that maybe she had died and gone to hell without knowing it, and this was to be her punishment: to be fucked through all eternity by an unknown, savage being.
Again and again he drove his granite-like hardness into her soft, curl-fringed cunt, until she groaned steadily from the buffeting of his pelvis. And still he did not weary of fucking her voluptuous young body, nor slacken his speed.
Kacey lapsed into unconsciousness, and when she came to, he was still fucking breathlessly into her, her loins held tightly to his by his heavily cupping hands beneath her naked ass cheeks. Her mind whirled in brightly colored pinwheels, and she felt as though her whole naked body were one enormous cunt encasing a relentlessly pounding colossus giant male cock flesh. But when she had slipped into the nether world of unconsciousness, her body muscles had relaxed their inhibited hold, allowing the instinctively lubricating vaginal fluids to oil and soothe her freshly de-virginated vagina walls. And, as the warm slippery secretions flowed out around the rhythmically insinuating cock, Kacey strangely felt her cunt burst into flower deep inside, awakening all her long-dormant sexual instincts and desires.
Desire and emotion erupted into a mountain of molten lava inside her heaving belly
-her tormented breasts burned now not with the pain of abuse, but with the pain of wildly scorching passion. The nipples pouted stiffly in the bewitching tropical night, asking to be kissed, fondled, bitten, crushed beneath the stranger's hairlessly pressing chest.
Now she welcomed the rigid rod of flesh fucking so deep up into her suddenly wetly sucking pussy. Sensing the sudden and unexpected succumbing of her accommodating cunt, the native skewered further and more furiously up into her unplumbed depths, like a fiery stallion atop a mare in heat.
Without conscious volition, she suddenly was fucking back beneath him like a young, spirited female bitch being mounted for the first time. That's it! That's what I am ... just a bitch being fucked by an animal ... His bitch ... His bitch! The dazzling awareness thundered like the pounding hoofbeats of wild horses across her giddy brain. She was delirious
-with pain, with shame, with passion. Her groans became throaty moans of animalistic desire. Her sensitive clitoris pulsated with the throb of passion and pleasure. She thrust her voluptuously curved hips desperately up against the invader's loins abetting his victorious charge into her cock-conquered cunt. She fucked herself wildly up on his scarlet flagpole of flesh with a newfound strength in an erotic race to sexual fulfillment between man and woman.
Kacey's suddenly sex-starved gyrations brought harsh, appreciative gasps of pleasure from her assailant, and he fucked her with even more sadistic fury. His breath was rasping as he sucked it in on the backstroke and grunted it explosively out on the instroke. Again and again he fucked up into the creamy inner sanctum of her belly, rippling through the hotly & enveloping walls of Kacey's cunt like a giant, engine-driven drill boring relentlessly into the earth.
His fingers dug more possessively and desperately into the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Then he was leaning over her again, her legs locked tightly around his back riding him like a jockey from beneath, his hands clawing up her body to grasp her heaving breasts once more. He was pulling on them like reins.
Kacey sobbed and writhed and fucked her passion-filled cunt hotly up over his pistoning cock beneath his pounding body with a strange mixture of erotic pleasure and masochistic delight that she had never known before. Unwittingly, her own body responses brought a weird sexual pleasure to her, by throbbing her inner vaginal muscles and giving more pleasure to him. She felt the first electric tingle of an orgasm flaming up deep in her womb such as her own finger-fucking fingers had never been able to give her, as the man's rhythmically pummeling hardness ricocheted off the walls of her now greedily devouring cunt with every ass-flattening in-fuck. He was close to shooting out his cum deep up inside her, she knew, and she jerked and twisted her body in desperate abandon as she raised her arms to pull his darkly sweating face down to her own. Her panting mouth was wide open, inviting his tongue to enter. Grunting passionately, she sucked on his broad, slick tongue as though it were his cock up inside her lips again. She sucked it deeply into the moist wet confines of her mouth as his lips locked wetly against her own. She felt the smoothness of his silver tooth ... smelled the coconut oil on his hair....
He moaned like a bull into her mouth, swirling his tongue crazily around in the saliva and still semen-slippery cavern, probing into the depths of her throat as suddenly below, his lust-burgeoning cock exploded like a gushing fire hose up into the velvety hungering depths of her vagina. Kacey groaned like a dying soul as she opened her mouth wider and sucked the slippery tongue more urgently. With her long, slender legs locked tightly around his heavily driving buttocks, she ground her heels like spurs into the hotly quaking ass cheeks and rode his obscenely ballooning cock all the way up to the blistering hilt with the hungrily gnawing lips of her fur-fringed cunt. His huge balls smacked her ass as he groaned ... in a savage outcry, the rapist burst like a broken dam deep up inside Kacey McQueen, flooding the hidden depths of her sweat-stained belly with a cataclysmic deluge of hot, white cum.
Blinding ecstasy coursed through her body, and her back arched convulsively as his ferociously jerking hardness continued to pump the hotly gushing liquid into the cock-clenching cauldron of her vagina. Spasm after spasm suddenly wracked her nakedly writhing loins, and she gripped with her cunt the wildly ejaculating organ of the man fucking into her as thought it were a squirrel with its head caught fast in the knothole of a tree.
The orgasmic earthquake sent tremor after tremor of indescribable pleasure through both of them. Finally, a seeming eternity later, the heavily sweating rapist fucked up into her for the last time with a pile-driving plunge that went all the way to the end of her belly. He held it there, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure as his sperm-drained cock spit out the last remaining drops of hot seminal fluid far, far, up into Kacey's spent and satiated body.
It was as she slipped into the velvet afterglow of orgasm that Kacey felt the rudiments of shame and guilt for the lewd and masochistic ritual she had enthusiastically participated in. She felt shame more at that moment not for what she had done, but for the ecstasy she had experienced. Fear, remorse, humiliation, lust, ecstasy-it was to much to cope with just then, and under the lambent light of the moon which once more silhouetted the panting creature above her, Kacey fainted. She didn't even feel the wet, slack penis slip out of the cum-flooded sheath of her cunt nor hear the sound of trousers being pulled slowly, obscenely up over his strengthless thighs....
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
Kacey McQueen's body twitched involuntarily from time to time. There was movement beneath her closed eyelids and her breathing was marked by a predictable wheeze that arrived punctually with each exhalation. Images and fantasies kaleidoscoped crazily through her head as she lay there comatosely.
She was a little girl sitting at the big lace-covered oak table ... she was biting into a piece of dark bread with some kind of jam on it. Suddenly the bread slipped from her fingers and fell on the freshly laundered tablecloth. The jam made an ugly red blot on the snowy lace. She knew that something terrible would happen, that she would be punished. She felt cold and frightened.
The scene changed to a park. There was a picnic table under the leal y tree. Mother, father, Timmy and Aunt Mabel and Uncle Harry were there too. Her father and Uncle Harry were drinking and telling jokes. Suddenly Daddy began to chase her with a big carving knife he was using to cut some cold ham with. She screamed in panic as her little legs churned over the ground, in and out of the big trees and around the picnic table. Her mother stood there with a look of rigid disapproval.
Then there were other trees; a forest of low-lying ones with jade green leaves. The thick, leafy branches obscured the sun. She was lying under some branches that nearly touched the ground, naked, her legs forming an openly spread vee. Her thighs were trembling, and her hands held open the lips of her throbbing vagina in lewd invitation to the big snake that was slithering towards her....
Again, the dream shifted. She was standing on the lanai with Steve, naked from the waist down. Steve's hand was caressing her between her legs, probing her vagina with his fingers. Her pubic hair was warm and slippery with a strange wetness. It was male cum! He withdrew his fingers and held them up-they were covered with semen! Thin white trickles of it ran down her legs and into her shoes and pooled around her feet. Steve was grinning, holding the whitely glistening hand aloft like a victory pennant. She wanted to run away. She was mortified. But her feet were stuck fast in the congealing puddle....
* * *
Kacey's eyes flew open like window shades on over-tight springs. She blinked a few times before the rest of her sensory awareness caught up. Goose bumps covered her body as she shivered from the terror of the dream.
She looked up, noticing the lacey patterns painted on the canvas of the sky by the dark palm branches near her. The thumbnail moon was white.
She suddenly remembered where she was, and fearfully looked around to see if her assailant might be hovering near. But the man who had attacked her was gone.
Slowly, painfully, she rose to her elbows. Her body was one massive ache from her breasts downward. The air around her was filled with the strange and yet pleasant scent of sweat and expended sex. A small drumming in her vagina recalled once more the encounter with the sex-crazed stranger. And when she raised her leg to lift herself from the ground, the matted curls of hair between her legs signaled a sharp little sting of protest. She reached down with one hand to comfort the assaulted area. The downy hair was parted in cliquish strands. There were droplets of whiteness on the lips of her vagina, while more discharge seeped from inside it and trickled down her inner thighs.
Kacey wrested the crumpled dress and brassiere from her upper chest, pulling it down over her tender breasts, past the waist and pelvis and her sun tanned thighs until the hem grazed the tops of her knees. With both hands she attempted to "iron" it, remembering with slight amusement that the fabric was permanent press-once the wrinkles were pressed in, they would be part of the fabric forever!
She spied her purse a few feet away on the sand and made her way over to it. The trip seemed like a journey around the world! Every part of her ached. She felt sick to her stomach and remembered that she hadn't eaten for several hours. How many hours? What time was it, anyway? She looked at her watch: twenty minutes 'til two. Steve! He'll be back at the cottage!-waiting for her ... waiting to chastise her, to berate her, perhaps to strike her! Perhaps if she hurried ... maybe he was still at the bar, or wherever he was. Maybe he had found a woman ... one of the dancers, a waitress, another guest. No matter. She couldn't stay on the beach, couldn't remain in this God-forsaken spot-at the temple where she had been a sacrifice to the gods of lust and depravity! Besides, the rapist might come back. Perhaps even now he was watching her from the shadows, waiting to pounce upon her defiled body again in a sadistic game of cat and mouse ... She had to get back to the cottage.
Panic gripped her like a vice and propelled her forward out of the shadows and down to the edge of the shore. She ran along the salty strand, splashing briney water onto her legs as her feet invaded the gentle, incoming waves.
Her mind was numb, incapable of logical thought. Basic survival was the order of the day, and she kept going despite the racking body aches that taunted her. Several times she stumbled on hidden shells, but managed to prevent herself from falling until, she suddenly turned her ankle and fell, like darling Clementine, into the foaming brine.
At first Kacey struggled to get up. But there was something delicious about the sparkling water, and she was struck quite unexpectedly with a lucid thought: Here's my "out"-I'll tell Steve that I had a crazy notion to jump into the water with my clothes on! Yes, the perfect alibi! I won't even have to tell him; he'll see it.
With that Kacey crawled like a crab out into the beckoning sea until she was floating above the sand. Her hair became seaweed. Her limbs were jellyfish. She remembered a line from that old hymn: "I am washed in the blood of the lamb." Only she had been the lamb. She was the sacrificial Iamb whose maidenhead had been slaughtered, and the cleansing, purifying sea was washing away her virginal blood ... washing away the staining fluid of the executioner's axe too. Could it also purify her soul? Could it wash away the ugly stain of guilt and humiliation her deflowering had brought her? No....
She suddenly wanted to be drowned, drowned to death like poor Clementine. But she knew that she was a good swimmer; it would take enormous courage to swim out to sea in the dark of night. What if there were sharks, or some terrible exotic sea creatures that would claim her first? This sobering idea sent another shot of fear through Kacey and she clamored to her feet and waded ashore.
* * *
It was 2:15 when Kacey carefully turned the knob on the darkened cottage door. She entered and paused breathlessly, afraid that Steve would snap on a light and .begin his inquisition. She waited for a moment. Nothing happened. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness. A blade of light speared the room from the crack in the bathroom door. "Steve?" she called tentatively. "Steve, are you there?" The room was silent.
Kacey moved forward cautiously on the thick, shag carpeting. The feel of the pile beneath her bare feet brought the sudden realization that she had left her sandals on the beach-she must have lost them during the struggle with the attacker.
Kacey stood before the bathroom door. She pushed it gently open with the fingertips of one hand. The bath was empty. She walked back into the bedroom. The beds were turned down thoughtfully, but Steve was not in either of them. She walked to the lanai. No one. With a sigh of exhausted relief, Kacey threw her purse on the bed, went to the still unpacked suitcase and found a light robe, then made her way into the bedroom again.
Her dress dripped little raindrops of salt water as she stood fingering the zipper at the back. Removing a soaking garment is tedious at best, but when your body aches from head to foot and you've got a pain in your head not even Exedrin would help, it's murder!
Kacey finally managed to free her body of the clinging sheath and kicked it into the spacious shower. She looked at her reflection in the mirror under the merciless light. God! The reflection showed her her ravished and bruised body. Kacey winced at the sight of her nipples and the long red welt between her breasts made by the friction of the man's penis as he had fucked it back and forth in her cleavage. There were more welts around the tender tops of her thighs, where his fingers had dug so savagely into her flesh.
And her face! It was the face of a strange woman: swollen eyelids lowered over the auburn pupils; the lips were distended and fleshier-no doubt they swelled when she had been forced to perform that unspeakable act on him. She took a step closer to the mirror. Her eyes! The look in them was different than she had ever seen before. There was a glint, a lack of softness, an expression that had never greeted her from a mirror before. The light from the bathroom fixture danced in her pupils as she turned her head from side to side and moved away from, then back to, the mirror.
Kacey stepped away from the mirror once more to review her sex-scarred body. It is a damn good body, she thought to herself. She ran her fingers over her aching breasts. She cupped her hands under the resilient mounds, caressing gently in an effort to soothe the pain. Her breasts responded to the soft stroking, the nipples becoming attentive to her touch. Despite the ache, there was another feeling that was taking precedence in her breasts-pleasure. She continued to fondle the globes of flesh, and as she did, the pleasure sensation spread from her chest to her lower belly. The throbbing in her vagina now included an integument of erotic stimulation, compelling her to drop her fingers to the softly curling strands of her pubic triangle.
She used her fingers to open her thighs, revealing to the mirror the battlefield laid waste by the invading stranger. She covered it with her hands. The soil was warm, the grass was moist beneath her palm ... She slipped a bashful finger down to the vaginal mouth.
Even touching it with the tip of her finger produced painful sensations. But there were other sensations, too ... pleasurable ones. Kacey eased the finger higher. That hurt even more, but some compelling urge forced her to insert the finger as far up inside as it would go. It felt surprisingly good ... thrilling in fact. Her clitoris stiffened with sensual approval. The pleasure now was more important that the pain.
God ... what's happening to me? she l worried. After what I've been through ... the horror of it all ... how can I even bear to touch myself? Is this what happens when a girl loses her precious virginity? Is this the way she wants to feel forever after?....
Thoughts skittered crazily in her brain. She was becoming punch drunk-rationality, like the Sword of Damascus, hung by a slender hair. The sudden thought jolted her that the rapist might have impregnated her during his wanton assault on her virginity. Oh no, I can't let that happen ... I just can't ... Then she had a sudden pang of guilt at the thought of a mother-to-be fondling herself so pleasurably. For shame! Shame on you, Kathleen Cecelia! Naughty girl! Her mother's reproachful words echoed in her mind, and she remembered a time when she was a very little girl. She had just been investigating her body as best she could ... Her mother had suddenly come into her bedroom and found her squatting on her haunches with her dress up and her panties around her ankles ... She remembered now the looks of surprise, embarrassment and anger that had flushed her mother's face, and right then she knew that she had done something terribly wrong, though she didn't understand why.
Nothing made any sense to her now. She was as baffled at that moment as she had been when she was a little girl caught in the innocent act of self-discovery.
All these years she had vowed to remain chaste, untouchable. She had fought to guard her woman's treasure from the many thieves who would have stolen it from her-that was the source of pride, of surety that buoyed her during moments of self-doubt. Now that was gone. Gone forever. Snatched from her cruelly by indifferent hands. The last thread of security had been ripped from her as though it were a worthless bauble. Perhaps it was. Perhaps the puritanical moralists, the merchants of Good and Evil were wrong. Was it a cruel joke that God had played on the female sex to hobble them under the dominion of males? Well, she had been a faithful subject, had lived by that code, had long been the brunt of that joke, and what had it gotten her? A tortured combat on a foreign beach, an aching body, battle scarred and the pride-levelling title of Miss Ex-Virgin of Kalapaki Beach!
Nothing mattered now. Exit the age of innocence for Kacey McQueen. The hell with chastity, virginity, the hell with pride! The rapist who had stolen her most cherished virginity from her in that moment of heartless brutality and lust, he wasn't honoring any moral codes. He wasn't even honoring a civil one! And what had he lost by it? Exactly nothing! He had gained the world. He would have grunted with as much animal satisfaction if she had submitted to him a thousand times before.
His brutal rape had accomplished exactly the same thing, had achieved the same ends as any successful cohabitation would-two bodies twisting and writhing in passionate sexual combat; two people striving to quell the burning fires of sexual desire which nature programmed into the human race to assure its perpetration.
Yes ... the end result would have been the same whether it had been Steve or any other man. Only the preliminaries would have been different.
To hell with the preliminaries!
(The foregoing cinethought transpired in perhaps 30 seconds, during which time Kacey removed her fingers from up between her thighs and let her hands hang limply at her sides. Then obscene images of the rape projected themselves on the screen in her mind. She fought to keep them from her consciousness, but could not summon the will to do so. The images were too titillating. Yes, it excited her to remember his huge penis between her breasts and up inside her heated cunt ... )
Kacey lifted her hands to her down-covered pussy-lips once more. She began to stroke the pubic flesh in earnest, parting the silken hair to allow her fingers to traverse the slippery crevice between the lips. Her middle finger of one hand massaged the erect clitoris-sending pulsating tingles of pleasure through her loins-while the middle finger of the other hand slowly circled the warm aperture of her vagina like an animal circling its prey. There was a kind of wet little squishing sound as the finger slipped moistly up inside. As she stroked the slippery, smooth-walled interior gently in and out, thrills of mounting intensity blossomed up and down her spine. Her body trembled spasmodically and her mouth dropped loosely open.
She watched herself in the mirror as though she were a voyeur. .That's it, she thought to herself, I'm spying on that woman who's fingerfucking her naked cunt!
The notion that she was watching someone else gave more impetus to her heated fingering. She began to accelerate the movements of her fingers. She was mindless of the pain that still resided in her vagina; sensations of pleasure held precedence.
Oh God! I've got to do something or I'll go stark, raving mad!
She sank to her haunches on the bathroom floor and scooted closer to the full length mirror, squatting with her legs spread apart, knees pointing outward from her open thighs. She let out a groan as she rammed three fingers deep into the hungrily absorbing slit of her sex-hungry pussy, trying frantically to satisfy her need with the fingers of both hands. Her full breasts bobbed up and down as the arms became pistons. Sudden tremors rocked her as she experienced a brief, orgasmic spasm.
But it only helped momentarily!
The orgasm failed to put out the fires of passion and sexual craving, and once more she began to rotate her fingers deep up inside her trembling vagina. In and out, up and down, around and around went her wet fingers inside the hotly steaming little hole. The face in the mirror was a mask of frenzied lust that was totally unrecognizable to her. She moaned and whimpered, her hands moving faster and more savagely between her arced thighs as the hunger deep in her belly spiraled upward to new heights of frenzied lust and desire. Tiny tendrils of sensation branched into stalks of burgeoning ecstasy from her womb to her quivering thighs, from her belly to her gyrating breasts. A featherlike fan of indescribable ecstasy fluttered through her passion-tensed body as she panted and groaned from the pulsating orgasmic explosion.
For a moment Kacey tottered on her heels and then fell back weakly on the bathroom rug. She covered her face with her sticky hands and began to sob convulsively, her body a helpless heap on the floor.
Oh God! Oh dear God! she wept into her hands. One time with a man and my body turns on as though I were a nymphomaniac! Who am I anyway? Where am I going?
She was shocked, horrified at what she had just done to herself so soon after the ordeal she had been subjected to with the rapist. She still could not make sense out of anything that had happened or was happening to her.
Why her? Why did she have to be the rapist's victim? It could have happened to a dozen other girls who would have been able to relegate the experience to a back room in their mind. But not Kacey! The rapist had left her with a strange, volcanic desire that would erupt again and again and fill her with molten passion. Even at this moment, while she was still faintly flushed with the lingering afterglow of orgasm, the serpent of desire was stealthily snaking through her loins as though it were in command of her body, as though it were empowered to use her as a captive slave who groveled at each corrupting whim.
And the rapist, the dark, hovering shadow who had kindled, then fanned the flame of sleeping desire within her ... he was now nothing more than an X-ray image that she would never look at again. She knew nothing about him except that he was a muscular, dark-skinned islander with a silver tooth who smelled of coconut oil and salted fish. She wondered if he had been surprised to discover that she was a virgin ... or had it really mattered?
She wondered what he was like with other women. Did he fuck them with the same callous disregard, the same contempt that he had shown her? Maybe other women liked it that way ... maybe they preferred a brute' to a gentle lover. She didn't know ... she had never been fucked by another man.
What is he doing now? Is he resting up so that he can stalk another unsuspecting victim tomorrow? Did he go home to a plump wife ... or a beautiful one? Does he make love to her like a savage, too?
The last thought brought a sudden unexplainable quiver of jealousy to Kacey that both shocked and horrified her. In a desperate attempt to blot it out of her mind, she got quickly to her feet and made her way to the shower. She wanted to wash the salt water from her hair and was half-way into the bedroom to get her shampoo from the suitcase when she suddenly realized that Steve might have come back while she was fingering herself so shamelessly in front of the mirror! A quick look around reassured her that he was nowhere in the room. With a quick sigh of relief she grabbed her cosmetic case and dashed back into the bathroom. This time she thought to lock the door.
The steam from the shower enveloped her like a warm fog. She let the waterfall from the shower head splash the top of her scalp as she lathered and shampooed her auburn mane. She picked up a soft, plastic bath sponge that had been thoughtfully provided by the management and scrubbed her soapy flesh carefully. The soft, bruised thighs, the hurting breasts, the arms and shapely calves, were stroked with gentle pressure from the sponge.
Kacey's body still had the prickly sensation that the rapist had left in her-a simmering, ever-present desire. She recalled reading about the goddess Pele, who, according to legend, makes her home in the pit of a roiling volcano. When she is angry, she retaliates by pouring scalding lava on the people. They call her, The Fire Goddess.
Is that what it is? she asked herself. Is it Madame Pele who taunts me? Was it really she who beckoned me to this enchanted island? Am I under her whimsical spell, a brothel slave in bondage to a fiendish pagan madam?
Kacey's eyes dimmed, and she started to cry again. But in spite of her distressful state of mind, an image of crude penetration as the stranger's hard penis speared her vagina again and again crept into a side door in her mind. She began to tingle again with strange, forbidden excitement.
Oh God ... I'm lost ... I'm lost forever!
Kacey stepped from the shower and dried her body with an enormous bath towel. Even the soft terry cloth abrased her over-sensitive skin. When she pulled the towel between her legs, her thighs clamped tightly around it as though her secret need had issued a sharp command.
She seesawed the towel back and forth between the taut thighs, stirring familiar sensations of pleasure and desire in the quivering lips of her vagina.
"Oh no ... no ... I can't stand it again," she whispered aloud, knowing that if she succumbed to Pele's flirtatious invitation and induced another imperfect orgasm she would only be left with more urgent desire. Reluctantly she removed the towel from between her legs and wrapped it around her dripping head. Putting on the robe, she stumbled to the bed and fell across it, sobbing into the quilted print bedspread bitter tears of anguish and frustration.
I'm going mad! I AM a madwoman! God help me ... oh help me please, dear Lord!
CHAPTER FOUR
The first rays of the papaya-colored sun signaled another golden day for the Garden Island of Kauai. Tropical birds chortled from the sheltering branches of the lush mokihana trees, and the occasional thud of ripe coconuts falling to the ground punctuated the air as Steve Forman silently eased his way into the bungalow. There was a huge, oval liquor stain on the front leg of his white Levi's; his eyes were bloodshot, and he was badly in need of a shave.
He stood surveying the room for several moments before he gently shut the door behind him and tiptoed over to the luggage stand and carefully hoisted the canvas suitcase, then tiptoed again into the bathroom. As he gingerly crept past the queen sized beds, his glance fell on a soundly sleeping Kacey, who was still lying on her stomach above the quilted spread, wearing a nylon robe, an enormous white bath towel encircling her head and partially obscuring her face. He quickly charted the slumbering form, noting appreciatively the 'venus-like mounds sculpted under the smooth fabric, the well shaped thighs, the slender calves and trim ankles. A warm glow fanned his groin under his fly, but he kept on course until he was safely inside the John.
He briefly surveyed the face in the mirror. "Geezus!" he gasped disapprovingly. Sparing himself further self-appraisal, he quickly stripped and climbed into the shower, stepping on Kacey's soggy print dress as he did so. "What the hell does that mean?" he wondered to himself as he kicked the crumpled garment into a corner of the stall.
A fast shower and a quick shave later, Steve was hastily grabbing a fresh sport shirt and a pair of clean khaki pants out of the suitcase. He dressed quickly in the bathroom, then removed the cleated shoes from the luggage, snapping the locks as he closed the lid. Shoes in one hand, suitcase in the other, Steve tiptoed once more past his sleeping fiance, replaced the suitcase on its stand, grabbed his golf bag and went quietly out the door.
* * *
The insistent ringing of the phone jarred Kacey from her heavy, dreamless sleep. Dazedly she lifted her head from under the oppressive weight of the damp towel and blinked unawaredly for a couple of moments. "Brrrhhhrrrinnng. Brrrhhhrrrinnng," clamored the instrument again. With an enormous effort of will, she pushed herself up on one elbow and reached spastically for Mr. Bell's brainchild.
"Hullo...." she answered sleepily.
"It's me, Kacey. Steve. Good morning."
Silence prompted another volley of words from Steve.
"I'm sorry to wake you up, honey. But it's such a beautiful day, and I thought...."
"What time is it?" Kacey cut in absentmindedly.
"Almost ten, sleepyhead. Kacey, please listen to me. Honey, I ... well, I'm just so sorry for that ugly scene last night. God, I just can't tell you how awful I feel about it ... can you believe that?"
Tears started to pool in Kacey's eyes. Her voice was tremulous and barely audible as she fought to keep from breaking down completely over the phone.
"Steve ... p-please ... don't Steve ... I ... I can't take it right now...." she stammered. She fought back the tears as best she could, but they were already streaming down her topaz cheeks. She wanted to tell him what had happened, but there was no way that she could share her awesome burden with the man she had once agreed to marry. That was history now ... gone forever, like her pride, her self-respect and her virginity. She didn't know how she could ever face Steve again. She wanted desperately for him to hang up, putting an end to the internal agony that pervaded her anguished mind.
Steve responded anxiously to the silence that followed her stammering request.
"Kacey ... are you okay?" he asked in a worried tone.
"Oh, sure ... I'm fine ... just fine," she lied. "It's just that...." her voice trailed off listlessly.
"Something's wrong, honey. I know it is. Tell me, darling. Is it because of the argument last night?"
"What? ... Oh no ... no ... I guess I'm still half-asleep...." she lied again. "Where are you?"
"I'm over at the clubhouse. Just had a terrific eighteen holes. Fantastic course!" Steve managed brightly, attempting desperately to turn the tide of their disturbing conversation to a less depressing channel.
"That's nice," she responded dully.
"Honey, listen," Steve continued optimistically, "what would you say to breakfast for two on the lanai?" Without waiting for a reply, he pressed on. "I've managed to work up quite an appetite on the greens, and the view is great from the lanai. We could talk privately, get things sorted out. There's so much I want to say, darling...."
"Well, I...."
Steve's words cut her protest short. "Please, Kacey. I've got to see you. After all, we are on vacation, you know. I can't take it like this...."
Suddenly Kacey felt sorry for her cuckolded suitor. "Well ... okay. But give me half an hour to get myself together, will you?"
"Terrific! I'll stop at the desk and order something super, my love. See you in half an hour, sweets."
Kacey let the receiver fall carelessly onto its cradle and pivoted slowly on the bed. Her thoughts darted in a thousand different directions-a melee of mindless confusion was rioting in her head. An acrid aftertaste clung like wallpaper to the insides of her mouth-a mixture of the pungent semen from the rapist's penis, the malingering Mai Tai, tobacco, and a protesting stomach too long without food. She remembered that she had not brushed her teeth since the morning of the flight. There were growling sounds emanating from her abdomen. Her head suddenly throbbed with pain, and she flung off the leaden towel and scooted to the edge of the bed. She let her legs dangle listlessly to the floor. The nylon robe had parted, exposing the smooth, supple thighs to her gaze. A little wedge of downy pubic hair sprouted between them.
As Kacey surveyed the golden limbs, and the thatch of coppery curling pussy hair between them, she heard the distant call of Pele, goading her to caress the naked loins. The drumbeat of desire played a little tattoo in her rapidly moistening cuntal crevice. She wanted to finger herself, wanted to answer the beckoning tom tom, wanted to quell the spreading fire within her but a judicatory ghost of reason cautioned her to desist.
"Oh no ... I mustn't ... I can't!" she heard herself comply, knowing that if she allowed her middle finger the lewd excursion up into her open cunt as she had the night before, it would only arouse more desperate longings within her! She had to be careful with Steve ... careful not to unleash the smoldering goddess Pele on him. She had to keep her cool in hopes that somehow, some way, she could keep her terrible secret from him ... at least, for now.
* * *
Kacey was just feeling the final blasts of warm air from the portable Ronson hair dryer on her glossy hair when someone knocked on the cottage door. Quickly she flipped off the switch on the dryer, and made her way to the door, her heart beating faster with worried anticipation. She was wearing a striped cotton tee shirt, and a pair of polyester pants that covered her body from the waist to the ankles. But she might have covered herself with every piece of clothing in her suitcase, and she would still be the embodiment of naked desire!
An oriental figure leaned behind an amply-laden serving cart.
"Aloha, miss. You order breakfast?" the face spoke cheerfully. Kacey was disappointed by the row of close-set teeth behind the friendly smile. Not one of them was silver....
"Oh yes ... fine. Right in here, please," she answered.
The slender waiter rolled the cart in, the smile still on his face. Kacey was about to direct him to the lanai, but the youth seemed to know just where to go. Steve had undoubtedly given specific instructions when he ordered.
For an instant Kacey was embarrassed at the notion that the waiter might guess that she and Steve were not honeymooners. But she dismissed the thought. Anyhow, she reassured herself, this surely isn't the first time two single people have vacationed as man and wife. It must happen all the time.
Then, as she watched the waiter deftly remove silver lids from steaming platters and light the alcohol burner under the chafing dish, she began to imagine what kind of cock he had. Was it long and thin, or stubby but broad? Was it as large as the giant one that had impaled her quivering vagina the night before? Her vaginal slit was becoming moist. She started to tingle with lustful desire-Pele's lava was rising in the little volcanic mouth up between her thighs.
She took a couple of steps toward the lanai and the waiter turned to smile at her. He was muttering pleasantries about the weather, or something like that. She didn't even hear him.
Her mind was consumed by lustful thoughts. She wanted to stride boldly up to him, press her panting body against his jacketed chest and grab the thing that dangled between his legs. But she didn't dare! Instead, she remembered that she would have to give him a tip, and turned to get her wallet from her purse.
It was only then that she realized that the rapist might have taken her money too. Why not? He had robbed her of everything she needed to sustain herself as an "upstanding" young woman. But she discovered, to her great relief, that not only her cash, but credit cards and American Express traveler's cheques were there too. Could it be that he had some shred of decency, some germ of consideration for her? Or did he merely forget to rob her of her material possessions as he had robbed her of her priceless physical and emotional ones? Probably the latter. It was a stupid blunder on his part, and he had probably cursed himself for the oversight as he stumbled into his bed wherever that was.
The waiter was still fussing with dishes and silverware as Kacey walked over to him. She allowed one of her jutting breasts to casually graze his arm as she leaned forward to admire the contents in the china bowls. The waiter reacted with nervous embarrassment and instinctively moved a step away.
"That looks absolutely gorgeous!" she enthused. "Succulent is the word, in fact." She carefully stressed the first syllable. As she said it, Kacey turned to look directly into the black, almond eyes. Subtly she let the tip of her tongue lick her pouting upper lip.
The waiter shifted on his feet, his hands crossed in front of him and bobbed his head in nervous acknowledgement.
"Thank you," Kacey purred, holding a dollar bill out to him. .
"Oh, you welcome, miss. Thank you," the waiter acknowledged as she pressed the bill into his outstretched palm. She let her fingers remain there for a split-second longer than decorum dictates, looking into the waiter's eyes, smiling at him appealingly as she did so.
Then Steve entered the room through the open bungalow door.
"Anybody home?" he wisecracked. He had had plenty of time to plan his strategy, to devise a game plan that he thought would cover him no matter how Kacey reacted.
The waiter, grateful for the interruption, bowed slightly to Kacey, hastily acknowledged Steve-who also thanked him--then backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Kacey smiled a deceptively cheerful smile at the attractive man who was standing on the other side of the room. "Hi," she began innocently as the figure came towards her. He seemed a perfect stranger, someone she had never seen before.
Steve gave her a gentle, loving kiss on one of her cheeks, squeezing her shoulders with restrained emotion as he did so. She realized suddenly that she was disappointed by his touch. There was no urgency in it ... no savage need.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, his eyes scanning her thick auburn-red hair, her full and sensuous lips.
"Let's don't talk about last night right now, Steve," she announced impulsively. She was afraid he would ply her with a long and painful apology. "Let's just keep our cool."
Steve grinned. "You're the coolest lady I know, Miss McQueen."
'very cool, she thought secretly, except for the volcano in my ... in my ... cunt! I've said it, she realized. Cunt ... in my cunt!
"Shall we?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the breakfast table.
"Sure."
Kacey was ravenous, and she tore into the delicious tropical fruits, the scrumptious eggs Benedict, the crisp sausage and the fragrant, steamy sweet rolls with the same savage abandon she had displayed when the rapist ignited the dormant volcanic fires within her. Steve watched with amazement as she devoured heaps of everything that was before her. Usually he had seen Kacey eat half of what was on her plate and then light up a cigarette. No doubt that's why she had no trouble staying trim.
"Gee, honey, I've never seen you so enthusiastic about food before," he remarked.
"Didn't you have anything to eat last night?"
Kacey laughed cryptically to herself. Oh baby, if you only knew what my warm little tummy had to eat last night! she was thinking spitefully.
"I thought we weren't going to talk about last night," she reminded. She forcefully laid the white linen napkin beside her plate and went over to get a cigarette out of her purse. Steve knew his remark had made her edgy. He walked over to her and put his arms gently around her waist from behind.
"Is it hopeless?" he inquired softly.
She answered his question with a question: "Is what hopeless?"
"You and me. Sometimes I feel that I will always have to worship you from afar ... as though you were a remote goddess."
"Perhaps I am," she teased, unable to hold back the remark. "Have you ever heard of the goddess Pele?"
Steve smiled slowly. "I guess so," he answered quietly. He sensed a strange desperation behind her humor that made him ill at ease.
"Pele, the Goddess of fire. She lives on the big island of Hawaii ... in the volcanoes ... spewing her fire on anyone who's near. She is molten fire ... and the fire is always there inside ... molten lava...."
Her voice droned on, her eyes glowing like amber coals, her voice becoming desperate, more fatalistically desperate with each word.
"Kacey, darling! What is it!" Steve shook her gently by both shoulders, his voice expressing alarm at her sudden change of personality. "You sound strange. What's happened to you, Kacey?"
She shook her head slowly from side to side. "It's nothing ... really." Then suddenly she quietly asked him, "Have you ever seen a man with a silver tooth?"
"What? What are you talking about?" Steve's expression was anxious. She wasn't making any sense.
"Kacey, darling! Tell me what's wrong," Steve entreated, hugging her back to him.
"Nothing is wrong. I just didn't sleep well ... I ... I'm a little fuzzy-headed I guess from the lack of sleep and the time change and, well, last night...."
Steve slid his hand across the front of her waist and moved it down to rest lightly on her hip. She wanted to force his hand down between her thighs.
"Oh no ... God, don't let me show him what I've become ... Keep the volcano from erupting, Madam Pele ... please!"
"Do you think I'm a manic depressive, Steve?" she asked in a strangely husky voice.
Steve was really concerned now. Other than her sexual hang-ups, Kacey had always seemed one of the most well-adjusted broads he had ever dated.
"What I said last night really hurt, didn't it, Kacey? It was really stupid of me to lose my head that way. I'd give anything if I could put the words back into my mouth without having ever spoken them."
"What you said last night ... the accusations ... about me being a frigid bitch ... those things were true yesterday, Steve. But they aren't true today...." .
Steve was baffled. "Kacey, darling, there is something wrong," he said with growing distress. He could barely believe his ears. "Now what do you mean by a ridiculous statement like that?"
"I just mean that last night I was unfair to you ... I've been unfair to you for a long time. Now I want to make it up to you...." Her slender hand tightened around his as it rested on her hip.
This sudden about-face on Kacey's part blew all his carefully laid-out strategy, blasted his face-saving alibis. He was prepared to face her anger, her rejection, her put-downs, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected her to invite him to seduce her!
He was beginning to feel guilty as hell for his retaliatory escapades the night before, when, bummed out and wearing a wounded ego on his shoulder, he had gone to Lihue, gotten blind drunk and wound up with his cock in the mouth of a half-Chinese chick named Iris Wong. He had wanted to punish Kacey for her rejection of him; punish her for the months of maddening frustration she had caused him. He had to feel, for the sake of his pride and ego, that there was something wrong with her. And now the memory of his shack-up with that local piece of ass was disgustingly painful. He'd probably wind up getting some kind of inter-island clap to boot!
Kacey squeezed his hand into her hip more urgently as he still held her back to him. She began to grind her soft sensuous buttocks back against his loins. She took his other hand and cupped it over her breast.
Steve responded with stunned fascination. He had never seen Kacey in this state before. Yes, he had felt her passion aroused on many occasions when they had kissed and petted, but never like this. She always seemed to be able to turn it on or off at will, holding back with a sure reserve of self-control. But this ... this was not the same Kacey who had stopped his advances so many times before. That Kacey had let him kiss and caress her passionately; this one was aggressively compelling him to!
"Darling ... I ... I think you'd better lie down and rest for a while," he said, frightened at the sudden split in her personality. "I'll go for a swim and come back to check on you in a couple of hours."
"Don't leave, Steve. Please don't leave me ... like this," she begged. She ground her ass back into his pelvis with even greater desperation. "I want you, darling. I want you now!"
"Kacey. you don't know what you're saying! What's wrong?"
"Oh, Steve, don't ask! Please don't ask," she moaned, both her hands tugging at his hand in front of her and attempting to pull it between her thighs. "Just make love to me, Steve. Do it to me now!"
"Baby," he pleaded, still not believing the horrifying change that had come over her, "I ... I didn't mean what I said to you yesterday. I want you more than anything in the world ... but for the right reasons-not because you're reacting to what I said...."
Kacey swiveled around to face him with a deep sigh of impatience rolling from her heaving chest. She blinked at him, her eyes glowing like pools of molten lava.
"It is for the right reason, you idiot! Can't you see that? Can't you tell that I'm ready? Do you want me to beg you to fuck me!" Her face was contorted with anguished longing and desperation.
There was a shocked silence. Steve was thoroughly taken aback. He was used to ceremony ... the eager fumbling of hands and the eventual grudging and helpless capitulation in the face of overpowering desire. He wasn't prepared for the desperate act of aggression on the woman's side, particularly from Kacey! Making love was a game with very specific rules his rules. He wanted it that way.
"Have a nap, first, darling," he urged, trying to maintain his composure. "You need the rest."
"Goddamnit!" she railed. Pele was stoking the fires up between her thighs now, and the hot, licking flames consumed her entirely, enveloping the whole of her tortured and trembling body until nothing else existed but the need to quell the raging torment within her.
"I need your cock! That's what I need! Fuck me, Steve ... Fuck me now! I need it! I need it!"
With that she fell back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. Steve's face burned hotly with confusion, embarrassment and the flush of erotic stimulation. Kacey was clawing at the hardening bulge under the tight-fitting khaki trousers, fumbling desperately with his belt and the zipper on his fly.
He panted as her groping fingers came into warm naked contact with the flesh of his pulsating penis. There was no turning back now. In spite of his secret revulsion at Kacey's sudden lewd and incomprehensible behavior, he felt his own pent-up longing for her surface in his quivering loins.
Kacey pushed him away and raised up on her elbows. Mewls of unrestrained passion rolled from her throat as she worked feverishly to unsheath his perceptibly expanding organ from the confining trousers. Suddenly the monster escaped from between the open fly and bobbed staunchly before her sex-starved eyes. She caressed it feverishly, stroking the soft casing of sensitive skin up and down the engorged pole. Her eyes were glassily fixed on the swollen muscle as she twisted crazily around on the bed and leaned her head towards the glistening tip. With a deep, soulful gasp that echoed from her desire-wracked body, she hungrily drew the desire-hardened length ef flesh into the heated cavern of her mouth. Steve's penis jerked spasmodically against her tongue, and moments later his hands were pulling her desperately back by the hair.
"No ... no, Kacey. You don't want to do that!"
"Then fuck me, Steve! Please fuck me now!" she implored as the throbbing cock was pulled from her lusting mouth. Her eyes searched his face with a look that combined pathetic supplication with animalistic desire.
Steve's emotions churned chaotically in his head. God! What had happened to her? Begging him to fuck her! She was behaving like a common alley whore ... behaving as though she were possessed! It couldn't be Kacey. But the devilish thought crossed his mind that maybe she would never be like this again, that maybe she would 'come to her senses' and feel so remorseful that she would never want to see him again. He couldn't take that risk! He had to fuck her!
"Take off your clothes," he commanded, summoning his last ounce of domination.
"No ... there's no time!" she wailed. "Just shove it into me!" She was feverishly unzipping her slacks on the bed and wriggling them down around her hips. "Help me ... help me get these things off!"
Steve used his big, hairy hand to yank the pants down until she was able to kick them off one ankle. He raised up her tee shirt, allowing the ripe melons of flesh to tumble into view. His lips lapped hungrily at the tiny, throbbing nipples, his swirling tongue igniting little bonfires of desire and delight in the voluptuously curved mounds. A shiver of hot, unrestrained lust convulsed her body as his tongue lapped the sensitized tit-flesh. She squirmed and panted beneath him as though she had gone insane. She was insane ... desire had made her a madwoman with no shred of reason or control to temper the lust within.
Then she could stand it no longer. She wrenched his head away from her breasts and the suction created when his lips were pulled back from a nursing mound fanned her yawning desire like a giant bellows.
"Oh God, get between my legs and fuck me, Steve! Fuck me with your cock!"
Her eyes stared up into his familiar face. The contact brought him humanly into focus, and she suddenly felt her body begin to chill at the thought of her wanton aggression towards him ... to this man whom she had so long denied. Now she was lying beneath this thwarted lover with her legs apart, begging him with all her soul to take her....
"Close your eyes, Steve. Please ... don't look at me ... just fuck me...."
She wanted to sustain the rampaging desire that had raced through her moments earlier. She fumbled for his penis, and grasped the heavy throbbing hardness between her fingers. But it was not the thick, cruel organ of last night's lover. She let out a small, exasperated groan and let her fingers slip from around the eager organ.
But Steve's passion controlled him now, bypassing the feeling of revulsion and disbelief that permeated his mind. With a trembling hand, he guided his long, throbbing cock between her thighs, spreading the pink, slippery lips of her vaginal cleft apart until the tip of his heavily stiffened cockhead penetrated the moist confines of her cunt.
It slipped gently inside.
Slipped. That was the trouble, her mind screamed. It slipped! It should have burst into her ... torn its way up into her body! It should have hurt her until she screamed for mercy!
It was too late ... too late, and too gentle!
But Steve's rhythmical probing in and out of her vagina suddenly became a throbbing tango of passion that was filling her with fire in spite of her initial disappointment.
Maybe ... Maybe it will be the same....
Yesssssss! Maybe!
She was dizzy with the intensity of her desire.
"Harder, darling, harder! Give me your cock! Shove it into me harder ... hurt me! Ohhhhhhhh...."
He began to fuck up into her voraciously devouring cunt like a jackhammer, venting all his frustration, his anger at her many rejections and now, at her domineering aggression. Yes, he wanted to hurt her-to give the bitch what she wants! But a tiny tap on the shoulder of his mind reminded him that he was, after all, in love with this wacky, chameleon-like creature!
Kacey was crooning beneath him like a cat in heat. Strange, obscene words and sounds kept rolling animalistically from between her tightly clenched teeth.
And then, it happened. Steve felt his balls grow tense and his cock grow more rigid, heralding the thundering orgasm that was on its way. A fountain of hot, creamy sperm-liquid shot out from his suddenly heavily jerking prick deep up into Kacey's frustrated belly.
Frustrated rage was evident in Kacey's voice as she screamed out to him, "Not yet, not yet!" She clutched at the emptying hose with the inner muscles of her still insanely hungering vagina, hoping to prolong his fulfillment until she could burst out into orgasm.
But the battle was lost. His semen-depleted hardness began to shrink inside her and finally she wriggled out from under him. As she did so, some of his newly deposited passion liquid spilled out from the open lips of her vagina and pooled wetly between her nakedly trembling buttocks.
She looked at the slippery, shrinking worm hanging limply between his legs. Her eyes burned with contempt.
'.'How could you?" she moaned reproachfully. She burst into tears and banged her head from side to side on the bed ... sending her hands down into the valley of her thighs. The fingers probed and pinched desperately at the throbbing bud of her clitoris as she drew her knees back up to her breasts.
Guilt, rage and disbelief filled his eyes as he opened them to look at his masturbating fiancee. She was totally oblivious to him as she tried frantically to relieve the fires that licked relentlessly at her hungering cunt.
If Kacey had only told Steve what had happened to her, if she could have made him aware that she was devil-driven, no longer able to differentiate between love and pure lust, then he might have been more empathetic to her behavior. He might even have been able to help her. But he knew nothing of her torment, nothing of the degrading nightmare she had been subjected to while he was boozing it up and bedding it with some cocktail waitress in Lihue.
"You're crazy!" he hissed as he grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her roughly to the edge of the bed. Why had she done this to him? he raged inwardly. He knew of this ... he'd read of it ... Goddamnit!....
"Let me do that...." he managed to say with forced gentleness. He spread her legs wide apart, then flung her hands away from her lust-heated cunt. Bringing his face up to the hair-fringed crevice, he parted the slippery cunt lips and probed the pulsating pussy flesh with his tongue. He lapped straight up the full length of her hotly quivering pussy, sending fantastic shocks of delight through her trembling body. He poked it, like a finger, into the cum-filled orifice, and was surprised at the taste of his own cum mixed with the sweet, warmly gushing pussy juice. He'd never tongue-fucked a woman after he had cum in her cunt, only before, and he felt some reluctance and embarrassment ... it seemed faintly homosexual.
Oh God, she whimpered, Oh God ... please don't take your tongue away ... yes, that's it! Oh lick me ... it's so wonderful. It's burning me and it's so wonderful!
Kacey's sighs filled the sun-drenched bedroom as Steve's tongue licked and swirled further and further up into her widely dilated vaginal tunnel.
"OHHHhhhhh ... yes ... yes .. , it's so hot ... so hot ... fill me with it!"
The obliging tongue continued its darting attack on her cunt, massaging the clitoris, lapping hotly at her slipperily grinding cunt lips until her body tensed, her hands gripped his bobbing head tighter and the first tingle of an orgasm grew to a tremor of wildly pulsating pleasure in her body.
"Oooooo ... AHHHhhh...." she gasped aloud. "Thank you, darling ... thank you...." Her whisper was barely audible.
But, even then, as she sobbed out her thanks, she knew that the attentions of his lips and tongue as they labored slavishly between the hungry, open lips of her cunt had only calmed her insatiable need for a brief moment. They could never bring the explosive, erotic release she had known such an eternity ago in the demonic blackness of the beach....
It took an act of contempt to do that ... contempt from a, man who consumed and possessed her whole being ... a man who made her his slave. Now she felt as though she were the master, and Steve was a slave at her feet, comforting her needs, bowing to her every command.
She needed a master-one who would be able to loosen the bonds of her tormented desire and release her from the terrible pervasive lust that obscenely consumed her.
In desperation she arched her loins sensuously up against his face and rotated her pelvis provocatively around under his tongue. Soon she was feeling the sure spasm of another body-thrilling orgasm.
Then all too soon it was finished. Almost as though it had never begun. Relaxed, yet cheated; fulfilled, yet hungry, she collapsed with a single, repressed sob into the softness of the bedspread, small tears of frustration and confusion trickling wetly down her cheeks.
Steve lay down next to her on the bed. His face reflected a conglomerate of emotions as he studied her. He didn't understand anything for sure-Kacey in particular. After all these months of cultivation, after all his carefully planned strategy....
Had she always possessed this abandoned sexuality, carefully repressing it with him, trying to come as a lily-white pillar of chastity ... all the while smoldering with ravenous carnal desire? Had she been secretly laughing up her sleeve at his considerate attempts to seduce her? Or had his hurtful accusations driven her to this state of frenzied passion?
Perhaps there was another man! Maybe he had been the brunt of the crudest con job in history!
Steve felt a sharp stab of jealousy in his chest ... What the hell happened to her after he slammed the door last night?
"Kacey ... Kacey, honey," he called to her softly, "what's wrong? What's wrong with you?" He leaned over and touched her shoulder. At his touch she shuddered visibly, as though awakened from a deep and solicitous sleep.
"What's wrong with me?" she mocked.
Her eyes were heavy lidded. The beautiful Irish face had become a plastic mask, lifeless and two-dimensional. Her voice was devoid of expression.
"I don't want to make love again like we just did," Steve blurted. The words were out before he could check himself.
No reaction.
"I'm a little old-fashioned, I guess. I like to lead the woman...." He didn't know what to say, but he had to say something! "I guess it's just that I don't like to feel that I'm ... that I'm being used...."
"Of course not," she responded curtly. "It's all right for a man to use a woman's body any way he pleases, but it must never, never be the other way around!"
"Goddamnit, Kacey," he retorted defensively, "I don't think I'm any different from any other man in that way."
"Then maybe I'll try your suggestion: find a woman! Maybe a woman will be able to show me more than how have...." Her voice trailed off emotionlessly.
That got him below the belt. It wasn't just the sting of her emasculating reference to his manhood, it was the total detachment with which she said it.
"You don't want love!" he shouted, "Or the tenderness that goes with it. What you want is some kind of animal, some kind of fucking animal on top of you!" He regretted the outburst immediately.
There was a hard edge to her voice as she slowly said, "I want a man who knows how to treat a woman. I want a real man."
She was really goading him now, hoping to goad him into the sadistic reprisal that would pacify Madam Pele and free her from the raging torment of passion fed guilt that rained hellish fire and brimstone in her body.
"Well, if you don't think I'm man enough for you, then maybe you'd better look for one! Better yet, maybe you should see an analyst!"
"Great! Do you know one who's a real man? I need one to fuck me back to sanity!"
Steve leaned over her suddenly and tried to penetrate the barrier of her lips with his tongue. He had to silence her somehow. He had heard enough of he obscene and stabbing words that had come from her sensuous mouth. He had to make her retract the emasculating insults. There was only one way.
Rising desire and expectation tenderized her resolve to hurt him. There was only the goddess Pele stoking the volcanic fires in her belly.
"Be a man for me Steve...." she entreated, hoping that he would take her the way she wanted to be taken.
He yanked the tee shirt over her head and arms, leaving her completely naked except for the crumpled slacks that still encircled one ankle. Forcefully he planted his lips over her mouth in a bruising kiss while he grabbed both her breasts in his hands and pinched the hardening nipples cruelly between his thumbs and fingers. She cried out in pain.
Steve's lips went to join his hands. He began to suck the nipples deep between the gently nipping teeth. As he did he noticed for the first time the red welt in her cleavage. He wondered if that happened when they were making love a few minutes before.
"Hard! Harder!" she commanded. "Bite me hard!" Her head flailed from side to side as his teeth nipped deeper into the pneumatic flesh. The warm, salty taste of blood touched his tongue as his teeth broke the skin. Though he knew she would have liked him to continue this strange and sadistic gnawing, he simply could not. His teeth loosed their grip on the warm, resilient flesh.
"Harder, darling! Bite me again. Hurt me. I need it! I need it!" she wailed as she writhed in torment beneath him.
She needed it! She needed the pain to blot out the guilt that seared her conscience! She'd liked it last night! She'd reveled in it when the stranger had ripped her virginity from her! She had to pay for liking it. There had to be pain!
But Steve wouldn't hurt her enough. There was a surfeit of tenderness even in his bites that she didn't deserve.
Ignoring her pleas, Steve climbed up onto her torso, straddling her chest. Eagerly he pressed his penis into the valley of her breasts, crushing the jellylike mounds around his rigid shaft with the palms of his hands. He could feel his penis grow larger in the smooth, pliant furrow. He thrust forward, gently rocking back and forth in the accommodating channel of her breasts. Then he scooted backwards down her belly, leaving a telltale ribbon of lubricating ooze in the wake of his flagellating penis.
He knelt momentarily above her thighs, stroking the rounded branches with the tips of his fingers, feeling her golden flesh prickle under his touch. Deftly his fingers skated up and down the length of her graceful limbs, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. But she was only passively accepting his caresses. She was giving nothing of herself.
His fingers foraged through the coppery curling pubic hair until they touched the hot and sensitive skin that molded the lips of her heated vagina. A sudden shiver of anticipated desire mobilized her into a small slight jerk as his fingers spread her there and exposed the tiny, throbbing clitoris to the air.
Then his hands were no longer adequate. Lowering his head to her under belly, he let his tongue inscribe her flesh in descending circles until it snaked through the silken underbrush and caressed the pouting lips of her waiting cunt. He liked the taste of her fragrantly pungent pussy. He knew she welcomed his tongue....
Kacey began to moan with pleasure, grinding her buttocks up and down on the mattress. He massaged his swollen cock against her warm, soft foot, feeling her body rise and fall more rapidly with each flick of his tongue up into her open cunt.
He smiled inwardly. He had her now. He was certain that he had her now. Everything was going to be all right.
Without giving her a chance to cum from his tongue-fucking, Steve abruptly withdrew his head from between Kacey's thighs and crawled up on his knees until he was lying between her legs. Impatiently he rammed his rigid cock into the warm, furry tunnel of her sensitive pink cuntal flesh. She was tight and not expecting his unceremonious entry, and, while it felt thrilling to fuck her like a whore, it angered him that she was so devoid of any emotion except the desire to have him satisfy her. It made him feel as though he had failed her ... and he couldn't take that.
He fucked into her cunt without mercy ... forgetting the personality of the woman, or thing, beneath him. Whatever she had become, whatever thing it was that possessed her now, he had to destroy it. It was dehumanizing both of them.
He ground up and down on her; in and out, revolving his raging penis in the hot, elastic channel up between her nakedly spread thighs.
He clutched her shoulders, whispering obscenities and words of love that merged together as he fucked her as hard as he could. He scoured the tender flesh of her breasts with his chest hair. He panted into her parted mouth, "I love you ... love me, honey ... hold me ... please put your arms around me...."
But Kacey's arms hung limply at her sides, and her eyes were shut tight against his penetrating gaze.
Unable to hold back any longer, Steve fused his husky murmurs of love and passion into one loud, sustained gasp of ecstasy as he felt a raging river of sperm burst its dam and rush like a wildly flooding torrent up into the fertile valley of Kacey's cunt hole. On and on the deluge came, until the rapidly shrinking penis floated limply in the viscously flooded channel within her.
It was some moments before he rolled off Kacey's body and propped himself up on one elbow beside her, searching her face intently for a clue, for some answers that would cue him on his next lines. But Kacey's eyes were fixed, expressionless, as she stared at the ceiling.
He reached for her hand and squeezed in gently in a gesture of tenderness and apology. The fingers were lifeless, frigid to his touch.
A hollow voice rose spectre-like from the tomb of her throat. "Leave me now," it echoed.
"What? Kacey, please...."
She turned to look squarely at him. Her eyes were posters with his picture on them they said "Wanted for Murder."
"Leave now," she repeated levelly. "I don't ever want to see you again. Ever."
There was an awesome finality in her words. He knew she meant it. Hurt and humiliation stoked the furnace of suppressed rage within him, and he bolted up from the bed, stumbled into his trousers and headed for the door.
"You're sick, baby. Sick, sick, sick! You're about the sickest goddamned broad I've ever met. You don't need a man-you need a frigging bull elephant who'll split you apart then trample you to death!" And with that, Steve jerked the suitcase off the luggage stand, hoisted the golf bag onto his shoulder and stamped out the door.
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now making our approach into San Francisco International Airport. Please make sure that your seatbelts are securely fastened, and that you observe the No Smoking sign until you are well inside the airport terminal. On behalf of your captain, the other hostesses and I want to wish you a very pleasant stay in San Francisco, and remember to please fly the friendly skies of United on your next journey...."
Blah, blah, blah. The syrupy voice droned on and on mechanically. Kacey watched the blurred runway rise rapidly until there was a thud of balloon tires spanking the asphalt ground. Her outward composure belied the tense anticipation within. She so wanted things to be made right! She yearned to be free of the agonizing memories that beset her. In desperation she had placed a long distance call to her brother, Timmy, and Laura, his pregnant bride. That's it-run to the bosom of her family, which meant Timmy now. That was the only security she had.
Steve was out of her life forever; she was relieved about that. He had apparently checked out that very morning, the morning after the night before ... She hadn't known if he had gone back to Laguna Beach, or if he was still at large in the islands, waiting out the rest of the week until it was time to go home. She couldn't stay at the hotel, nor could she take the chance of going back to her apartment. He might ... he just might phone her there. She would be safe with Timmy and Laura-at least for a while, at least from Steve-but would she ever be safe from Madam Pele, who, even now, taunted her loins and beckoned her back to that beach on Kauai....
Kacey gratefully pinpointed the two bright, responsive faces in the sea of indifferent ones. Timmy and Laura greeted her with hugs and a gushing barrage of inquiring chitchat. How was Hawaii? She had a beautiful tan. Did she go surfing? (She hadn't told them that she had had an agonizing thirty-six hour vacation! It would have encouraged too much solicitous concern. They naturally assumed that she had decided to stop in San Francisco on her way home.)
The smell of frying bacon wafted into her nostrils from the adjacent room. Her nose twitched and she turned toward the wall. She didn't want to wake up; being awake meant being aware-aware of the guilt, aware of the pain ... aware of the ever-present need ... the volcano that threatened to erupt at any moment....
The crisp percale sheets rubbed across her thighs as she restlessly moved her legs like scissors against the mattress. Bubbles rose in her loins.
No ... no ... her mind cried silently. Please, not again! I can't stand it!
Everything that touched her-her clothes, the affectionate squeeze of Timmy's hand anything seemed to awaken the sensual longings in her body like a clanging alarm clock.
Now, as the sheet brushed her thighs and fell from the sensitive nipples, ,her body was subject to torture again. She felt her breath rising until there was a humming wheeze in her throat as the tiny tongues of fire licked at the empty eagerness below.
She felt the heat and the growing dampness between her thighs; her legs trembled as she spread them.
I can't ... I mustn't! She admonished herself as she clutched the hem of the sheet with tightly clenched fingers. The flames were licking at her mind, urging her to touch herself in the hotly throbbing nest up between her tighs, urging her to caress herself into another desperate attempt at sexual fulfillment. But she knew that she could fingerfuck herself until the moon turned green, and it would always leave her with more longing.
Shakily she rose to her feet, slipped on her robe, and opened the bedroom door.
"Good morning, sunshine!" came the voice from the handsome young man in the hallway. "Howja sleep?" He came towards her and gave her an affectionate hug. Kacey shuddered involuntarily, hoping the young man would not notice.
"It was delicious," she managed.
Timothy Andrew McQueen had the same mop of thick, auburn hair as his sister. But his eyes were pure Hayes-brilliant aquamarine, like his mother's. He had his mother's fair skin, too. It was a sensitive face, the face of a poet. Timmy's poetry was music. He sang his tender compositions as he accompanied himself on a guitar. His voice was pure, gregorian. A clear tenor. When he sang, it was as though a crystal goblet were being tapped.
There was a deep familial love between Tim and Kacey. Secretly, he felt he probably loved her more than his wife of one year. But a sister was forbidden, incestuous fruit. Oh, sure, they had had their share of childish experimentation, but that was a long time ago, and there came a time when he could not risk embracing her too lingeringly, because of an embarrassing knot that surfaced in his loins.
Once he had put his eye to the keyhole of the bathroom door while she was in the tub. He had watched while she leisurely slid the soapy cloth over her naked arms and her satiny shoulders, then dreamily over the distended nipples of her nubile breasts.
Afterwards he had gone into his room and lain on his bed, desire flushing his body like a scarlet fever....
He couldn't help himself ... he felt ashamed afterwards, when his youthful penis had relaxed again. But he couldn't bear to include it in his confession the following week. A telling silence answered the question, "Have you abused yourself, my son?"
Nine years later, there he was confronting his luscious sister again on her way into the bath. But he was a man now. He had to put away childish things!
"Is the john free?" Kacey asked.
"All yours, ma'am." Timmy smiled, bowing to her with a hand extended toward the next door down the hall. "The pink towel and wash cloth are yours. I know it's your favorite color," he added.
"You always were a crowd pleaser," she teased.
"We try. We try," came the fast reply. "I'll give you exactly five minutes. After that, it's burned bacon and rubbery eggs."
"You're on!"
Kacey closed the bathroom door behind her and slipped off her robe. She was still smiling from the breezy encounter with her kid brother. They always got along so well. There was an easy camaraderie between them that she never had had with any of the guys she dated.
Probably because she not only loved her younger brother deeply, but because he was the one male she had never had to fight off. In fact, she had often secretly wished that she could marry him-he would be so understanding, would treat her with such gentle regard. But each time the incestuous thought popped into her head, she had quickly excommunicated it from consciousness. Incest was unthinkable at best, and probably a mortal sin!
"Hey in there!" Timmy's voice shouted through the bathroom door. "Are you trying to make my wife look like a lousy cook? Get a move on. Red!"
Kacey quickly pulled her hand from her excited cunt and turned off the shower. She had been trying hopelessly to quell the raging desire in her groin. She was ashamed of herself to be caught like that in desperate self-manipulation, even though no one had actually seen her ... still, there she was in the home of decent people!
Kacey barely dried herself, threw on her robe and made her way into the kitchen.
"Just in time," chirped Laura as she sat a dish of creamy eggs and crisp bacon before her. Laura's tone seemed to imply that it was heedless of her to keep them waiting. Kacey had sensed from the first that Laura was a possessive little thing who was, under her over-solicitous facade, more than a little jealous of her sister-in-law. But pregnancy had mellowed her a bit. She was lost in the dreamy anticipation of motherhood, and fluttered about like a wren feathering her nest. In fact, Laura had let the forthcoming arrival take precedence over her husband's sexual needs-that had been apparent from the thinly veiled jibes and innuendoes that had passed between the two of them the night before.
"How's our little mother this morning?" Kacey asked her sister-in-law.
"Baby's fine," she said, patting the tumescent bulge of her abdomen, "but poor mother has to visit the doctor."
"Imagine," Timmy addressed his sister, "that guy gets into her pants more than I do!"
"Timmy! That's crude!" Laura slammed the frying pan down on the stove and ran out of the room in tears.
Kacey and her brother sat in silence for a few seconds, not daring to look at each other. But then their eyes met, and the corners of their mouths began to twitch as Kacey teasingly reproached him.
"That was very naughty of you, Timothy Andrew."
"Yeah, well, I suppose it was, but she'll get over it. She cries at the drop of a hat, you know. Hormones and all that. I'll be damned glad when this baby gets here!"
She envied Laura then ... envied the unborn child that was growing in the young woman's womb, envied her evident absence of the need to make love. If only she could trade places with her now, become a placid cow instead of the ... the nymphomaniac she had become!
She had to talk to someone! Maybe Laura's doctor ... those OB's knew a lot about women. But then she'd have to tell Laura why she needed a doctor's care!-she would never tell her jealous sister-in-law!
How could she tell Timmy ... that would shatter him.
She watched Timmy butter the toast. His slender muscles rippled as he stroked the bread back and forth with the knife. She stared at his lips, the thinly bridged nose, his sensitive forehead. Poor baby, she was thinking tenderly, you're suffering too....
"Help him, Kacey." a voice was saying inside her.
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
How it happened, she couldn't remember.
They had been sitting at the kitchen table, having an after-breakfast cigarette over coffee. (Laura had waddled off to the doctor's with barely a goodbye.)
They were laughing hysterically at the countless pranks they had conspired to as children. It was all so wholesome, so natural. No games, no pretense. Kacey felt relaxed for the first time since her horrible battle with Steve shortly after they checked into the bungalow at the Kauai Surf Hotel in Hawaii.
Then she got up to clear the dishes. She was putting them in the sink when she felt the stinging flick of a snapped dish towel on her thinly covered bottom.
"Owwwwwww! I'll get you for that, Tim McQueen!" He was up to his old tricks. The gauntlet was flung, and she picked it up.
Kacey turned on her heel and pursued her younger brother around the table. They danced and bobbed like boxers, snarling at each other in mock anger over the laminated plain between them. Sudenly Tim's hand gave her a playful but infuriating swat on the other cheek of her buttocks. He was a kid again.
"Oh! You ... you brat!" she screamed, her auburn eyes blazing with temper.
"Now don't get your Irish up, Red!" he teased. Tim was the one person in the world who could call her "Red" without making her fighting mad. But this time she responded by flailing her arms out at him in a frustrated effort to return the mischievous slap. Her breasts were jostling under the smooth robe, which was beginning to part slightly from under the hastily looped belt. Kacey's kid brother was suddenly aware of the smoothly curved tit flesh that had become visible in the widening decolletage. Embarrassment flushed his face. The only way to avoid the hypnotic spheres of flesh was to quickly turn on his heel and dart down the hall.
"Ho ho ho. I'm the Gingerbread Man. Catch me if you can!" he dared her.
Kacey pursued him at full speed, clutching at the robe as she chased him down the hall. She was a gleeful child again, oblivious to the thing that had caused him to turn and run.
There was more bobbing and weaving, around armchairs, over end tables until suddenly, they stumbled in a rivalrous scuffle that sent them both down on the soft sofa.
Out of breath, they panted and laughed like two excited children, until....
From somewhere deep in Kacey's mind came a faint but familiar call ... the voice grew louder ... and louder ... Madam Pele! Oh no! No ... It can't happen with Tim ... not with my own brother!
Kacey burst into tears of fearful torment, shame and frustration. Tim was lying half across her body. His hands had pinned her arms beside her head. At the first onset of tears, he had instantly loosed his grip and enveloped her in a loving and sympathetic embrace.
"What is it, Red?" he softly asked her. "Tell Big Tim, hmm?"
She wanted to tell him ... God knows she wanted to confess the whole unspeakable nightmare to her brother, whom she had always loved more than anyone in the world. But she lay there sobbing against his chest instead.
"Just hold me, Timmy. Please ... hold me."
Tim clutched her tightly in his arms. He was filled with love for his beautiful sister brotherly love, fatherly love, spiritual love and ... carnal love-but the latter, he forced himself to suppress. She was his child, his sister ... his surrogate wife? No ... dammit ... no!
His touch was tender as he stroked her hair and ever so gently wiped the tears from her apple cheeks. He thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful. He nuzzled his head against her neck as her sobbing subsided into a deep and troubled breathing, punctuated by occasional involuntary sighs.
"There, there, my love," he comforted her, and as he did so, the grinning goddess that lurked in her silent loins sent a current of molten lava through her sob-wracked frame. She had only wanted her brother's comfort; had only wanted to feel his reassuring touch against her face. But now Madam Pele controlled her. Now she desperately wanted his body too!
Now she could feel the heat of his slender, well-formed body. They were breathing in rhythm together; his heartbeat matched her own.
Again she fought Madam Pele. She clasped her arms around her beloved brother and wished fervently that they were man and wife. She wanted to help him; she wanted so badly to give him the fulfillment that he obviously was not getting from his pregnant wife. She didn't want anyone or anything to hurt him the way she had been hurt. That's all she wanted ... But Madam Pele is a ruthless mistress. Madam Pele wanted more ... much more.
The two of them were breathing harder now, their passion fanned by the emotional bond between them, as well as the intrigue of incest. Forbidden fruit hangs tantalizingly from the vine ... just ask Eve.
Suddenly Tim raised his head to look into his sister's face. Their eyes locked, and in one instant they conveyed to each other all that they felt: the years of repressed desire Tim felt for his sister, the love, fear, guilt, anguish and frustration that plagued both of them, for very different reasons. And overlying everything, an enormous tenderness and mutual respect that cemented them together as no mere contract of marriage ever could.
"Timmy ... Timmy, darling...." She wanted to reassure him, to console him in every way. Help him, Kacey, came the voice again. Help him. She was aware of the throbbing heat of his body as it quivered against hers. She was aware of the hard knot of male cock flesh that pressed against her pubic bone. She noticed his sensitive mouth parted slightly as though he wanted to speak to her. But the words did not come. Instead....
Their lips met in a passion-flooded embrace that could have been the first kiss for either of them. Their tongues swirled around each other's mouths as they bathed each other in sweet wetness. They ground against each other's bodies as though they were possessed-and indeed, they were. Kacey was possessed by the goddess Pele within her, crying out to her, scorching her loins with the molten fire of lust. Timmy was possessed by his long-forbidden desire for his beautiful sister and the frustration his pregnant wife had caused him by her long-standing indifference to his physical needs. Timmy had never known that such blinding ecstasy could exist.
His eyelids and lips trembled from the touch of her tonguing kisses and his flesh quivered as her fingernails traced their way across his skin, Tim's hands found their way to her heated loins, where the robe had spread apart beneath his writhing body. He stroked her flesh up and down the smooth columns, around the firm belly and up to the taut breasts, sending tingles of heated pleasure through her quivering body. His mouth clapped tenderly but hungrily over the turgid nipples as he sucked each breast in turn. She didn't need the pain now. She was on the edge of anticipated fulfillment in a way that did not require the punishment she needed from other men.
This time, she thought, will be different. This time I'll be free! Free! Free!
Gone was the realization now that he was her own brother. She knew nothing now except the desire for this man who lay atop her; desire that rose in her body like an oncoming tidal wave. She knew that it would soon crash on the beaches of her soul and finally free her from the torture that her body had suffered for so many eons since that night on the beach at Kauai.
Gently she motioned Tim away and raised up on her elbows as she eased him back against the wall of the sofa. Her hands worked feverishly with his fly. Finally the stubborn zipper yielded, allowing her eager hand to pursue his loins in search of his sexual ransom. He gasped when she clasped warm fingers around the pulsating penis.
Lightly ... ever so lightly ... she ran her nails up and down against the tight, trembling underside of his cock-sending blinding shivers through him. She was stroking the taut skin, across the pulsing veins and up to the rigid crown at the head of his hardened rod of flesh. Then her hands moved down again until they caressed the fullness of his balls and tickled the curling strands of pubic hair.
Tim lay beside her moaning softly, unable to do anything but allow his cock to submit and blossom under the heat of his sister's caresses.
Her hands moved then away from him as she slithered down on the sofa until her face was close to his fly. He raised his arm, as though to protest, but the protest was feeble and short-lived. Tim's hips arched convulsively at the sudden burning touch of her lips on his cock head. Its throbbing fullness seemed to keep expanding with the flicking of her tongue....
It had to be wrong, his mind cried out to him, it had to be wrong! But, as her mouth closed warmly around him, taking his throbbing fullness into its hot, velvet depths completely, until he felt her teeth and the back of her throat, his mind stopped arguing with his desire, and his hips rose again and again unconsciously to fuck his heavily pulsating hardness rhythmically up into the scalding wetness of her hungry mouth.
Suddenly Tim felt the familiar sensations building up in his balls and he knew that he was about to cum. He wanted to be fucking deep up inside her cunt when it spurted forth, to be united with his beautiful, beloved sister in the most exquisite ceremony of his life.
But Kacey sensed that he was ready to cum in her mouth, too, and she abruptly pulled away from him, her lips making a soft, wet, sucking sound and glistening from her saliva and his pre-cum that had seeped prematurely out.
Wordlessly she pressed him flat against the sofa cushions and worked to get his trousers down around his lower legs. She slipped her arms out of the robe and let it fall behind her as she placed a rounded knee on either side of his white-fleshed hips. She lifted the lower edge of his tee shirt, following with her tongue as she raised it up under his arm pits and then over his head.
Then there were more impassioned kisses for his eyes, his cheeks, his open, panting mouth as she retraced the path of her lips and tongue down his face, along the sensitive skin of his neck and across the smooth skin of his chest. For what seemed like several minutes, she moved her lips and the tip of her wetted tongue in figure eights over the brown little tips of his nipples, leaving them hard as pencil erasers under the touch of her wet, pointed tongue.
She matched up his stiff little nipples with her own as she lowered the thrusting pinnacles of her satiny breasts onto his bare chest. She massaged them into his heaving, sweating torso as she forced her mouth against his once more for a long, wet soul-kiss. Tim thought he would choke from the emotions that welled in his throat. They were floating now above the earth, other-worldly, lost in the impassioned desire and deep sibling love that had become consuming carnal love-making. He fought to restrain the dam in his lust-hardened balls from bursting, but he knew he would contain it until it was fucking safely up inside her velvet, forbidden depths. He had to-the risk was too precious to risk losing.
Finally Kacey positioned her naked cunt above his genitals, lowering her hips until the edge of his prick brushed against the throbbing hair-lined lips of her vagina. She waited a second, poised as a trapeze artist awaiting the returning bar, knowing that there would be one moment, the right moment in which to leap out into space....
That moment would be the time ... it would be her time. The moment came....
Abruptly, fiercely, Kacey grunted heavily and dropped her hips onto her prostrate brother. His dust-stiffened penis ground up into her cuntal tightness like a battering ram, eased only by the oily secretions from deep inside the walls of her hungering body. It slammed up into her until she thought she would faint from the sudden, welcome pain. It burst up through the soft, fleshy walls of her vagina until she thought she would scream out in ecstatic agony, feeling it throb up into the center of her soul with all the fire and wrath of a cauterizing bolt of lightning....
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" she cried out, and her body shook from the trembling spasms of pleasure that spread through her like rolling waves of molten lava....
Yes ... this time! ... her mind screamed ... This time it will happen!!-so soon ... so sooooonnnn!
And then she felt Tim's body begin to jerk convulsively beneath her, and she knew that she was to be cheated once again by the goddess of fire that lived in her lusting loins....
Over and over her brother spurted his jets of creamy, boiling sperm into her hotly grinding body ... his hips arching upward and reaching out to her, his prick thrusting and thrusting until the last dregs of desire had been emptied from his testicles, and the swelling hardness of his prick began to slowly deflate up inside her.
He was weeping tears of joy and guilt and fulfillment. She was weeping tears of love and guilt and frustration. Neither one of them had heard the key turn in the lock, or the heavy, labored footsteps. They heard nothing until the scream, "Oh my God, no!"
* * *
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Empress Hotel is a raunchy flea bag that squats above a noisy bar on Columbus Avenue near the Broadway strip-that part of San Francisco's famous "North Beach" area that poets like Ginsburg, Kerouac and Ferlinghetti romanticised in the '50's and '60's with their Beat ballads of love, rebellion and outrage. On occasion, you still see one of them or their lesser-known disciples thumbing through paperbacks at City Lights Bookstore, or rapping over a cappucino at Enrico's.
But the poets now are mostly street musicians, who hawk their ballads to the passing parade for whatever a song will fetch. They are almost uniformly bad, singing off-key and unintelligibly through their noses in pathetic imitations of Bob Dylan. Yet they are free to peddle their tunes, as the mongers of sexploitation along the Broadway strip are free to peddle flesh to the hordes of wide-eyed conventioneers who come to the area in search of thrills they can't get in Omaha and Steubenville.
Yes-poets, peddlars, pimps, pushers, prostitutes, perverts and parasites of every kith and kin find refuge in this glittering ghetto of sin, sex and seaminess. No questions asked.
Ghosts of the glamorous whores who sang and danced in the Victorian saloons of the old International Settlement still haunt the now seedy interiors of badly-remodeled, post-earthquake buildings. Except for a few establishments of taste, the whole area is like a polyglot whore, grown old and ugly beneath the suffocating layers of powder and paint; a whore grown shabby beneath the dusty feathers and tarnished sequins. She'll take on anybody, that whore ... and so will the Empress Hotel. In fact, the Empress Hotel quite regularly provides rooms for whores, and sometimes, whores for rooms ... perhaps the fat, Chinese woman at the desk was thinking of the latter possibility when she handed the key to Room 4 to the dazed young woman who smelled strongly of liquor when she checked in a few days earlier....
* * *
There was a dank, almost overpowering odor of stale whiskey and filth in the small, dark room. Even the sunlight seemed pale and gray beneath the tattered window shade. Several cockroach pedestrians ambled rather than skittered across the dusty pine floor. Paint and wallpaper peeled from the woodwork and walls, exposing the spider-webbed line of cracking plaster beneath. The faded print rug curled defiantly at the thin edges.
A heavy silence pervaded the air; it seemed that the room was empty. But suddenly from the sagging bed with the painted, oriental headboard came a husky, wheezing noise. The sound did not disturb the indifferent cockroaches. There had been many similar sounds throughout the years. Wheezes, sighs, coughs, panting, grunts, retching, the scuffing of feet across the floor-the roaches had heard them all. The only sounds that startled the lazy insects were those of a sweeping broom or a whirring vacuum cleaner. Those sounds they were not accustomed to.
The sound came again, as Kacey McQueen struggled into semi-consciousness. She lay on the bed, half-dressed and uncovered. (The covers had fallen to the floor two days earlier and had remained there in a crumpled heap.) The stale smell of smoke and cigarettes that she had thrown in a brownish swill of old whiskey and melted ice burnt her nostrils, as did the hazy, memories of the night before; not that it had been different from several others that preceded it.
Just another night in the Empress-she laughed to herself at the misnomer-because her anonymity would be assured ( we all look alike to them) and because it was a fitting punishment for a person like herself-a "cheap slut" ... a "depraved animal" ... a "filthy pervert" ... weren't those the words Laura had used as she pointed the accusing finger at her from the doorway of her living room when she had caught her nakedly entwined with her own brother?
Oh God! Why? ... Why? It hadn't been Kacey ... it was Pele, Pele the Fire Goddess ... someone had to believe her ... Pele did it ... Madam Pele was the murderess ... Kacey was her helpless bond slave, that's all....
She reached for the bedside lamp, thinking the lamp, rather than the sun, was blinding her. She groped with her eyes shut, knocking over the whiskey bottle and the glass beside it. The fumes that rose from the floor as the liquid splashed against it made her gag, and she tumbled from the bed and made her way to the small sink in the corner of the room. She splashed cold water on her face to awaken her, brushed her teeth and with a wash cloth washed her body clean. Then she stumbled weakly back into bed.
It had been this way for the past four days because of the booze and the near-total lack of food: she'd be violently ill in the morning and then, when the shakes had passed, she'd call down for another bottle. Thank God, unlike the other dregs of the earth that resided here, she could afford it! No questions asked-they could barely speak English anyway! But neither did anybody ask questions when a customer was cut up in a bar brawl downstairs or a drunk got rolled outside by one of the white, black, or Chinese gangs that roamed the streets.
Oh God! Why? her mind cried out as she lay with her head buried in the pillow. The torment and shame that ate at her body in constant castigation was worse than the sickness from the liquor. It never stopped. There was no release in sleep, no day or night; only the accusing voices in her brain ... probing, rasping voices that droned in her consciousness like a broken record ... over and over and over. The scream ... the "Oh My God, No!" ... She remembered Tim's surprised "Huh?" and then his sobbing "No, no, no ... oh no, no, no!" as he became fully cognizant of the horrifying reality of Laura's discovery ... how she had grabbed for her robe to cover herself-they were like Adam and Eve after eating the Forbidden Apple ... and the way he shouted "For God's sakes, get off me, Kacey!" as he struggled to get out from under her ... she remembered the mortifying sounds made as their bodies disengaged. Another time, those sounds would have been appealing, exciting even ... but in that context, at that moment, they were further cause for humiliation. Everything blurred then ... he pulled on his pants and ran to Laura while she stood there, dazed in the doorway....
She reached for the phone, holding it for a moment until her hands stopped trembling, then she lifted the receiver....
"He-o" came the flat voice at the other end.
"This is Miss...."
"Yah, I know."
"Could you please send up another bottle of...."
"Whah you wan-same whiskey? Or don' mattah?"
"Anything will be fine. Just send someone up quickly, please."
"O.K. I see." Clunk. There was a dull ringing in her ear signifying that the Chinese woman had hung up. That click ended her contact with the outside world for another agonizing several minutes. To Kacey, it might have been hours.
The fat woman called down through the open stairwell to the bartender. She was shouting in Chinese. He shouted back ... he couldn't hear her very well. It was mid-afternoon, and there were several customers. Finally, she labored grudgingly down the linoleum-covered stairs to the bar, shouting at him angrily as she descended the short flight of stairs. Several of the Chinese customers understood the dialogue and began to laugh. The bartender was laughing a bit too, or rather, smirking.
He held up a bottle of Beefeater. "Another one?" he asked in mock surprise. More arguing in Chinese, then the fat woman whispered something in her ear. He grinned evilly.
"Looks like you got a live one up there, George." came a voice from the bar stool.
"You tellin' me?" the bartender responded, making the shape of a woman's body with his hands. "Four day' like this (pointing to the bottle) and she sti-o goiin' stron' ... Whew!"
"Man, you let'er keep goin' that way and you'll wind up with a stiff on your hands!" the voice warned.
"Naw, naw. Don' worry, Charley ... we ain' gonna let her go too fa' under. She too goot lookin' for tha'!" He paused and grinned knowingly at the customer: "Even wi' all tha' booze, she still to pretty for that!" He replaced the Beefeater bottle with a Jack Daniels bottle from under the counter. Carefully he broke the seal and loosened the cap a turn. He grinned broadly to the man on the barstool and held the bottle aloft for him to see. It drew an appreciative nod. "This be her las' one, so I give her the bes' ... complimen' of the management!"
The fat woman railed at him some more as he bounded up the stairs two at a time, on his way to Room 4. He was thinking about the woman inside. He was tending bar that morning when she came in, looking wild-eyed and confused. She was already on the sauce then, though she sure didn't look like an alky. She was well-dressed too; probably had some bread, maybe a husband and kids somewhere, though she sure as hell didn't look like she'd ever had a kid inside her. Christ, what a body! She had about as much business bein' at the Empress Hotel as he had working in a Jewish delicatessen-she must be on the skids, but it won't last ... the chick has too much class for that ... he had to move fast if he was gonna fuck her before she came to her senses and split. Charley was right-he sure as hell didn't want the dame to freak out completely and wind up in the psycho ward at San Francisco General! He already had the fuzz breathing down his neck it was costing him plenty to stay in business! He had to be sure this wasn't some fancy police broad out to trap him good. But, naw ... a police broad would never hole up there for four days-no way.
George was panting when he got to the third floor. Breathlessly he knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked louder. Still no sound of response. He got worried then. He quietly opened the door with his passkey and peeked inside.
Kacey was lying on the bed. She had passed out again. She was wearing a loose silk blouse that was held together by one button at the waist. Her skirt was gathered about her hips. Her pantyhose were coiled at the foot of the bed, next to her shoes. One arm lay across her face, as though to shut out the slender bar of light that crept in from under the drawn window shade. Her thighs were spread apart so that the coppery curls of pussy hair and the inviting pink cunt lips were fully exposed to his gaze.
George's palms started to sweat. He reached for the bulge in his pants and caressed the hardening shaft under the bartender's apron ... Christ! What a body! He wanted to climb right onto her and screw the hell out of her right then. Man, she was so out of it, she probably wouldn't have noticed! But he had to get back downstairs ... had to get back to the bar. He had to tell Charley! And maybe a few others ... Or should he save her just for himself? One thing was certain-he'd be back at 2:00 A.M. when the bar closed!
He quietly backed out of the room, locked the door again, and placed the bottle of jack Daniels beside it. Then he raced downstairs to the bar, stopping at the desk to say something in Chinese to the fat woman. He heard her pick up the phone and plug in the switchboard jack as he reached the last step.
* * *
CHAPTER EIGHT
The jangling phone brought Kacey back to consciousness. For a moment she was afraid to answer. Why would someone be calling her now? Had one of Tim's friends spotted her and tipped him off? Had he given her description to the police? She shuddered at the thought that she might be apprehended as a common criminal and be taken off in a paddy wagon to the city jail. She would have to face Tim again, not knowing how he felt. He might hate her now, and she couldn't face that ... that was the one thing left that she couldn't face. That's why she had gotten her things together and left their apartment while he was still in their room with Laura. She hadn't even left a note. What could she say now?
"Ye-yes," she answered haltingly.
"You look outsi' door. You' wiskey. No charge. Comprimen' of house." Again there was a click on the other end of the line.
Kacey staggered to the door, turned the lock and opened it cautiously. There was a bottle of Jack Daniels-her favorite! She bent down and grabbed it and quickly shut the door. She was suddenly quite dizzy from the rapid exertion. She had to crawl back to the bed on her hands and knees, clutching the bottle like a toddler. She was wondering at the unexplainable gift of prime sour mash whiskey, wondering if the "house" meant that dreadful fat woman, or the smirking bartender she encountered the day she checked in. Even though he was pleasant to her, there was something about the way he smirked, something about the way he looked her over as he moved catlike back and forth in his narrow cage behind the bar that made a shiver of revulsion run down her spine. It was difficult to say who she disliked more-the leering bartender, or the rude fat woman at the desk who scuffed indolently along the dirty hallway in her worn black slippers.
It seemed so unlikely that either of them would give her anything but her anonymity. But really, it didn't matter. They've always been inscrutible, haven't they? She chuckled to herself, as she poured the amber liquid in the cloudy glass and hurriedly delivered it to her lips.
Her body shook convulsively, expressing its rejection of the liquor before it slowly submitted to the stupefying calm that followed. Soon her heavy swallows produced the desired effect and the pounding headache, the nausea, the dizziness began to subside. The burn of the alcohol turned into a warm glow that spread throughout her body. She felt pacified, almost alive again. That was the trouble-she began to feel too alive ... she began to feel the same burning need that had tortured her so relentlessly for the past week and a half....
The demonic goddess inside was resurrected from the ashes of memory. Pele was rising like an indomitable phoenix, prodding at her with fiery tridents of uncontrollable desire and lust ... pricking her loins with tormenting forks of fire ... teasing and taunting her until all she could hope for was to drink enough to bring on the welcomed release of unconsciousness.
But though she swallowed as much as she could, gagging as she did so, it was of no use. Pele was calling the tune, and she was made to dance. And dance she did, in the darkening room, as she lay on her bed. Again and again her body arched in rhythmic ecstasy as her fingers sought to quell the fires in her vagina. Again and again she came on the dingy bedsheet, but she never felt fulfilled, never felt totally satisfied.
It was only after the Daniels bottle was three fingers from being empty that she lapsed into the peace of unconsciousness, never knowing that someone had been watching from the other room.
* * *
Charley Rose had been standing on a chair, looking through the two-way glass in the transom for over an hour and a half. It had cost him twenty bucks, but it would have been worth a couple of bills-a week's pay-to see the gorgeous auburn-haired girl in Room 4. Ole George, he's an all right chink, giving him the passkey and letting him spy on her from the transom mirror like that. God, if he only knew!
Small beads of perspiration had broken out on the stocky man's forehead when the girl had unbuttoned the last button on her blouse and tossed it on the floor; when she had kicked the wrinkled skirt off to join the blouse, so that she was totally naked. He could see the smooth, flat plane of her belly and the dark, soft-shadowed curls that covered the junction of her slightly parted legs. The thin, red-lined opening had been temptingly visible, and his prick had risen in burning hunger and lustful anticipation. His large, heavy-lidded eyes bulged as they followed the contours of her beautifully sculpted hips up over the rising and falling ribcage to the large, rounded spheres of her breasts. They seemed to be beckoning of him; he could see their turgid nipples rising to tantalizing tumescence with blossoming passion. His mouth watered. He could hardly wait to get his hands on those ... to put his turtlish mouth on them ... to twist and turn them into mounds of rock-hard passion.
His eyes really popped and he nearly fell off the chair when he saw her begin to caress herself with her fingers; when he saw her fingers disappear into her velvet cunt again and again. Goddamn! he thought. She has to be the wildest thing I've ever seen ... goddamn ... ohhhh ... goddamn ... look at her fingering her hot little pussy!
For what seemed like an eternity, Charley "The Turtle" Rose watched the frustrated creature in Room 4 from his perch at the transom. He wanted to break in on her then, to yank her fingers out of her soft hairy wetness and bury his own swollen cock in their place. But he forced himself to wait until he saw her eyes close and her body sag with unconsciousness. Then he got down quietly from the chair in Room 5 and used the passkey George had "rented" him to let himself into Room 4.
It was nearly dark. He squinted his large, turtle eyes to help him find a better focus on the bed. He quickly walked over to the window and eased the shade up a bit. The street lights had just gone on, and the garish neon sign from the hotel winced systematically outside the window, giving a flickering strobe effect to the room.
He moved closer to the bed. The girl's eyes were tightly shut, but her body twitched and convulsed from time to time as though she were being pricked with needles.
The stoop-shouldered figure moved stealthily to the foot of the bed, never lifting his eyes from the reclining figure that was so sensuously sprawled across the sheet.
She had drawn one knee up and tucked the leg half under her, so that the golden flesh of her inner thigh caught the light from the flickering neon. The soft, reddish hairs covering the tightly closed lips of her cunt were plainly visible now to his immense turtle eyes.
Charley Rose involuntarily drew in his breath at the unbelievable sight before him. He had seen a lot of naked women in his life some pretty hot tomatoes too, but never had he seen anyone as magnificent as this! Even the clarity of the transom mirror had given him no real clue that the broad that lay before him would be as stunning as this....
His pants dropped heavily to the floor as his trembling hands finally undid the zipper. Next he slid down the baggy, striped shorts and his stubby prick bobbed in the air. He ripped off the sweatshirt, after removing the brown felt hat he habitually wore. His hands were still dirty from the last plumbing repair job he had done early in the afternoon. He had stopped in at the Empress to have a few beers before heading home. He stopped there almost every day around three to rap with ole George and watch the hookers go in and out with their Johns. He'd never touch a professional piece of ass, though. He had a horror of VD.
Charley stood for a moment longer over her motionless body, stroking himself to a tantalizing rigidity. For a moment he considered beating off. It would be a beautiful sight to see his hard penis throbbing out its load into the helpless girl's beautiful, aristocratic face and down over her naked tits. He pictured the thin white liquid dribbling lewdly down her chin to the hollow of her throat, then pooling between the warm cushions of her breasts. But, oy vey, Charley, the plumber, thought to himself, such a waste!
There was one thing he had to do, though, before he shoved his hot pipe into her gasket ... it was taking a risk, for sure-he just might come. But he had to see those full, luscious lips clamped around his putz for just a moment. He'd been thinkin' about it all the time as he watched her tongue flick across those lips while she was playing with herself.
He knelt down on the edge of the bed by her head and with one hand, turned it gently until her mouth was only inches away from his breathlessly throbbing cock. Then he pushed his hips slowly forward toward her upturned face, laying the wet, sticky underside of the throbbing head between the small valley of her slack lips. Gently, fearful that he would wake her, he placed his hands on either side of her jaw and with his thumbs, he slowly spread the sensual lips until the head of his cock was resting against her white teeth in the furrow of her half-open mouth. He could feel the warm air from her nostrils wafting hotly against his glistening prick as she breathed restlessly.
A dewlap of lubricating semen clung to the tip of his probing shaft, while tiny rivulets of instinctively forming saliva had begun to trickle down the sides of her chin. God, he would like to shoot a hot stream of cum down that soft throat and hear her groan as she sucked it into her. Maybe later ... afterwards....
Charley paused to scan the naked body once again. Geezus, it was fantastic. Though it had excited the hell out of him to see her through the transom mirror, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now, with her helpless and spread-eagled before him.
With the thumb and forefinger of his right hand he pushed against her teeth, forcing them open a little wider to admit his thickly aching cock head as he continued to fuck it gently back and forth in her slackly open mouth. His left hand now moved to her magnificent breasts and carefully pinched the nipples until he could feel them hardening beneath his obscene fingering.
The girl shifted slightly beneath him and moaned softly, as though she had some awakening awareness of his presence. Charley froze and quickly withdrew his deflating penis from her lips, leaving a warm, wet trail of white semen as he did.
"Oh yes, yes, my love," she mumbled thickly through the fog of liquor. "I've been waiting for you ... waiting so long...."
Through some strange perceptive faculty, Kacey had become aware of movement in the room. She somehow knew that a man had come to her. It was the one she had been waiting for! she thought. A great weight was being lifted from her, and now things would be all right again ... Pele would never plague her any more ... the man had come back. He would be gentle with her now, now that he owned her. He would take her as she had wanted him to.
She could feel her blood begin to stir deep within her body. He would possess that body in a moment. This time she would once again know that blinding ecstasy ... this time she would be freed!
Charley shook his turtle-shaped head in disbelief.
I don't know who this beautiful fruitcake is dreaming of, he was thinking, but I'm sure as hell not going to wake her up!
He stroked his broad, stubby penis once again in the hollow tube of his curled hand. With the other hand he mapped the wakening mounds of her breasts, her firm, gently rounded belly and the soft, fleshy folds of her cunt.
"Ohhhhh ... yes ... yessss! I've looked for you, looked for you everywhere...." the girl droned. "It wasn't your fault ... I know that now. Fuck me gentle this time ... fuck me gentle...."
Kacey dreamed on, her body becoming alert now to the caresses of magic hands that were stroking her naked flesh into a prickled field of desire. Tiny goose bumps budded everywhere on the silky, golden skin.
God, how she wanted him! Her body ached to be touched and held! She wanted him to crawl up inside her, to possess her totally; she wanted him to quiet the thunder that was building deep, deep inside as his maddening touch inflamed her naked and defenseless body.
Maybe he would understand ... maybe he would stay with her now, would realize how much she had suffered and how much she needed him to quench the flames that licked at her mind. Now he was with her, and she could make him understand that she forgave him for the rape ... forgave him because it hadn't been his fault-they had just been searching throughout eternity for each other....
Her tongue ran slowly around her moist lips, savoring the taste of the strange, but definitely masculine fluid that lay on them. The scent of it wafted into her nostrils and she breathed it sensuously into her lungs. It was a soothing, pungent balm. The scent of it, the taste o fit, lighted tiny candles in her nipples, her belly and her groin. The mouth of her cunt pursed spasmodically and the dewy moisture became a weeping as the wetness increased.
"Oh darling ... yes, darling ... fuck me now! Touch me! Hold me! Give me all of you now!"
The turtle bared his teeth in a lascivious grin. His bulging eyes feasted lewdly on the unconscious girl who was writhing on the mattress. Then he moved along the edge of the bed, crouching on all fours, until he was able to push the unresisting limbs of her legs further apart. He got up on the bed and crawled between them, his knees pressing between her ankles ... his face only inches away from the silken vee at the base of her golden belly. His thin-lipped mouth watered as he watched the girl's moistly pulsating cunt mouth rotate sensuously, expectantly, just below his lips. Saliva ran through the stubble of his unshaven chin and onto the soft reddish fur that bordered the pouting, pink lips. It trickled down into the wetly glistening split and pooled, with her own cunt juices, under the cream-white mounds of her buttocks. Charley loved to eat pussy!
Through half-open eyelids, Kacey could see the shadowy form of the man who crouched between her legs. She could feel the palms of his sweating hands pushing against the softness of her inner thighs, forcing them apart and up, exposing her secret vaginal treasure to him-to do with as he pleased. Only this time she knew it would be wonderful. Her head raised by the pillow, she watched between her raised thighs his head lower slowly ... slowly ... then!
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" she jerked, as his lips closed over the soft mound at the base of her belly. His face disappeared from her hazy view into the soft coppery fleece as he planted wet, tickling kisses on the still closed aperture of her vagina ... Her own hands moved sensuously down over her slowly awakening breasts, down over the smooth flat stomach, finally halting at the wetly shimmering mound below. Slowly then her fingers spread the curl-rimmed lips to allow his devouring mouth full access to the slippery, thin vertical opening between her legs.
Her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs and her head lolled uncontrollably from side to side as the hot sticky tongue flicked against the erect clitoris. His lips and tongue sucked at the sensuously quivering slit, drawing the tender fleshy folds deep into the hot cavern of his mouth. Hungrily he continued the licking and sucking against the hotly pulsating nest of her sex. She groaned huskily from deep in her throat as the hot, probing tantalizer worked its way up and down the full length of the finger-spread slit, over the softly contracting mouth of her vaginal cave and further, to the crevice of her slowly writhing buttocks, where it paused at the tiny puckered circle of her anus.
Her hips began to grind down uncontrollably into the squeaking bed now, while low mewling animal sounds escaped from her widely parted lips.
The turtle lapped hungrily at her open cunt, feeling the soft, wet pubic hair brush tantalizingly against his cheeks. A feeling of power surged over him. He had never known anything like this before! Never in his wildest fantasies had he ever imagined he'd have such an incredibly beautiful bitch squirming under his tongue and loving it! He'd never had much luck with broads, and because of his reluctance to hire a piece of ass, he found pussy hard to get. But this one!
Her groans drove his tongue faster and faster up and down the hot slippery cleft. He knew she was too far gone to fight him, and his mind began to form weird, erotic pictures positions he could get her into; things he could do to her, and things he could make her do to him! What the hell did he care if she thought he was someone else-she wanted Charley Rose!
He chuckled obscenely as he felt her hands desperately clawing at his hair, guiding his face to the palpitating mouth of her cunt. He teased her with his tongue, flicking it into the soft-rimmed flesh, then quickly withdrawing it again.
Kacey kept crying out to him-he was the one! ... he was the one. Why didn't he put his cock inside her and fuck her with it the way she wanted him to do it!
"Now! ... Now!" she pleaded. "Now!" And her inner thighs began to grip the side of his head tighter than a vise as she writhed and bucked beneath his hotly flailing tongue on the bed below.
Suddenly Charley got scared. He was hotter than a steam boiler himself. He knew he'd shoot off right in the mattress without ever getting to fuck her if she kept going that way. He'd lost control of her, and now she'd begun to pull the strings. He wanted to shout-No! Stop! I can't hold back if you do that! Stop! But he couldn't stop her. He wrenched his head loose from her tightly constraining thighs and tried to scramble up her body. He was straddling hef clumsily, frantically aiming his flailing cock at her, trying to get inside her in time ... but her erotic cries, and the sensuous grinding of her hips, and the juicy peach of her pussy he'd been sucking in his mouth all conspired against him. He couldn't hold back any more ... he wanted to desperately, but he couldn't....
"No! ... No! ... Noooooo!" she screamed as she felt the hot liquid squirt onto her belly and run down into the burning valley between her legs. Not yet! she wanted to scream, not yet!
Her eyes flew open in anger and raging disappointment. It couldn't be the same man! It couldn't be her stallion!
Suddenly the man who was crawling away from her came into sharp focus under the blinking glare of the neon light.
"Oh my God! No! No!" she screamed over and over again. Get away from me! Get away! Help! Help me someone!"
Through her hysterics she heard the sound of a fist pounding against wood. "Charley? Charley! Open the goddamn door!"
Charley hopped awkwardly across the room clutching at his trousers. He looked like a contestant in a sack race. He managed to get his pants up around his waist as she shouted back to the voice on the other side, "Aw right, awready. Take it easy, pal!" Then he opened the door.
The Chinese bartender tried to push past him, but Charley held him off. "Wha' the fuck the thin' you doin', man!"
"Listen, will you just listen for a minute, George?" the turtle was entreating. "That fuckin'!" Kacey heard him say. "It wasn't my fault! It was hers! She's a fuckin' bitch, I tell ya. Listen to me ... she...."
The bartender pushed past him at that point and strode heavily over to the bed, where Kacey still screamed and sobbed hysterically. She was groping wildly for the sheet that lay on the threadbare rug. A sudden, stunning blow across her face sent her back against the painted headboard. "Shu' up, you drunke' slu'!" accompanied the back of a powerful hand. "You no make trouble here, you go' that? You no make trouble my place. We take care of drunken bitches tha' make trouble ... you go'that? Huh?" And the Chinaman held her by her shoulders and shook her like a rag doll to punctuate his threat. Then he flung her backwards against the headboard again, grabbed the filthy sheet and threw it in her face and strode heavily back to the open door. "You go tomorrow morni' ... You stay here tonigh', but tomorrow morni' you go!" The door slammed forcefully, sending little avalanches of plaster down the walls.
Kacey was still stunned from the force of the powerful hand across her face. She was shaking violently, her teeth were chattering in her head. Fear gripped her convulsing body and she lay heavily back on the bed, closing her eyes as tight as she could....
* * *
CHAPTER NINE
The first thing Kacey was aware of was the penetrating odor of hot chicken soup. A rough hand was shaking her violently into consciousness. Voices rattled around her head in incomprehensible monotones. It was all grey--grey voices, grey smells, grey fog in the room.
"Hey! Hey you-get up! Wake up!" one of the voices commanded her. The commands were accompanied by brisk little slaps across the face.
Kacey moaned in her half-conscious stupor and sought to cover her face with her arm. The body attached to the slapping instrument leaned forward and raised her up by the shoulders.
"Time to ge' up now! Ope' you' eyes!"
The subject responded to the hypnotist's forceful suggestion. Kacey blinked her eyes a few times until the lids remained open. The grey light pierced her pupils, but she was under command to see, and so she let the stinging continue until the lens adjusted and most of the stinging went away.
The bartender was hovering over her anxiously. Near him was the insouciant fat woman, her face an expressionless mask. She was holding a small, round bowl in her hands, the way Kacey had seen Chinese coolies do in so many 'B' movies. There were chopsticks in the bowl to boot!
"You awrigh'? Huh?" the bartender was asking.
An orphan bit of humor skipped across her brain. You've got to be kidding! she answered inwardly. It hadn't yet occurred to her that the two of them might be nourishing her up so that they could submit her to more senseless abuse and sexual violation.
"I ... I...." She didn't know how she was or what she was anymore. She couldn't find words in her own language.
"Here, you ea' this...." the voice commanded again. Wordlessly the fat woman proffered the bowl to her as though it were a sacred potion. Kacey reached feebly for it, but her arms were leaden and dropped heavily to her sides before she could grasp the bowl. The bartender growled and took the steaming vessel from the fat woman. He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to feed the enfeebled young creature propped against the oriental headboard. She opened her mouth obediently, like a nestling accepting a worm, as the chopsticks came towards her. The slick little pillow between them slipped down her throat. It was good! A twin followed. Then another, and another. She was relishing the little won tons now-they were delicious. She remembered how long it had been since she had had any real food.
When the little pillows stopped coming, the bowl was held to her mouth while she drank the savory liquid. She could have consumed a gallon of it.
"You ge' up now," the yellow face was saying. "You ge' dress' and the' you go ou' of here. OK?"
"But...."
"Don' worry, I no' cawr the cops. Ev'rything coo' ... But you have to go now...." He got up from the bed and walked to the door. "My mom, she herp you ge' ready. I con back in te' minutes." The door closed quietly behind him.
Kacey hesitated a moment. Where would she go? What time was it? Her watch had stopped three days ago ... The fat woman was gesticulating to her now. The fat that hung from her upper arms jostled beneath the short sleeves of the dark green mandarin blouse she was wearing. The woman took a step forward, as though to pull the sheet away-it was enough to energize the benumbed girl. The thought of the fat woman touching her with those lizard claws of hers was more repulsive than the remembrance of any manhandling she had endured the night before.
"No, please...." Kacey begged, drawing away from her. "I'll get up by myself." She thought the woman would have the decency to turn her head away, but instead, she just stood there sullenly, her narrow eyes two slates on which nothing was written.
Kacey made her way to the toilet down the hall, the sheet still wrapped around her. She had to lean against the walls as she walked, but she managed to get back to her room, where the stone-faced woman was still standing in the same spot, statue like, her arms folded across her chest.
Kacey got some clean clothes out of the suitcase, dressed and put on the shoes she had kicked off on the bed. She went to the wash basin and looked at herself in the mirror. My God! She was horrified at what she saw. Four days of drinking and crying, not to mention the ordeal of several hours ago, had taken a heavy toll. Quickly she scrubbed her face with the furrowed white sliver of soap, in an effort of wash away the stains on her conscience as well as those on her face. She grimaced as she dried with the skimpy rag of a hand towel the hotel provided. It was dirtier than the sheets!
There was an impatient rap on the door. She opened it for the bartender.
"You aw set?" he questioned anxiously.
"Yes ... I'll get my suitcase."
"I'll ta' it dow'." He hoisted the bag off the floor and made a quick visual check around the room. "Wha' abou' those?" he asked, pointing with his head to the skirt and blouse still crumpled on the rug beside the bed. "Burn them," Kacey said flatly.
* * *
CHAPTER TEN
The pea green taxi was waiting at the curb. The bartender leaned his head inside the front window and said something in Chinese to the driver, who gave a quick look over his shoulder at Kacey. More guttural dialogue in Chinese, then the driver pulled quickly away from the curb.
"Airport?" he asked the rear view mirror.
"Yes." the image answered. That was the extent of conversation for the next twenty-five minutes. When Kacey reached in her wallet to pay the $11.00 fare, she saw that it contained only two five's and four one's-they had taken the two fifty dollar bills and a crisp twenty! Thank God the traveler's cheques, credit cards and her checkbook were all there! 'Compliments of the house?' she mused bitterly. But of course!
The smugly efficient ticketing agent looked up from his paper work at the counter. The big wall clock above him said 6:30. "May I help you?" he asked curtly.
"When is the next flight to Hawaii?" asked the unsteady young woman before him.
"In about two hours, miss. Flight 409 departs at 8:20 A.M."
"Fine. Would you reserve a seat for me, please ... and I'd like space on a connecting flight to Kauai if you have it...."
* * *
She'd told the smiling, familiar face at the Kauai Surf Hotel that she had toured the other islands but really preferred Kauai to all of them and had decided to spend the rest of her vacation there. He heartily endorsed her decision. She didn't mention that she felt compelled to return ... that she had realized somewhere in the subconscious vaults of her being that she must find the exorcist that would free her from the inhuman demoness that possessed her ... that the Goddess Pele had called her, too. She had no other choice, really.
Now, after two days of lazy basking on the sun-drenched beach, ' after deep, dreamless sleeps, after purifying baths in the holy waters of the Azure Sea, after several sumptuous repasts at which she consumed delicious and body-nourishing foods, she was once again sun-bronzed and the beautiful picture of health. The glow had returned to her apple cheeks, the sparkle was back in her auburn eyes, her hair glistened in the sunlight. She had even managed to take in the Polynesian Revue with all the other flower-decked guests. It was really quite good-but the drum beats, and the frenetic gyrations of the dancers had made her feel uneasy-it sharply paralleled the frantic drumming within her body that was so familiar to her ... the dancing flames of fire that teased her mercilessly.
Now she was rested, tan and fit. Now she was ready to look for him again (though she had never stopped looking for him, really. She searched for him in every Hawaiian face; checked every Hawaiian smile for the silver tooth ... ) She would stay there forever, if she had to, but she would find him ... she had to find him-only he could free her from Pele's chains of molten lava.
The staff made a big fuss over her. There weren't many women who checked in alone at the Kauai Surf. The guests were almost exclusively married couples-or those who pretended to be. In particular, there weren't any women as gorgeous, as perfectly shaped as Kacey McQueen. She could hardly escape the appreciative notice of any of the males who worked at the hotel. But it was the brown-skinned youth in charge of the beach umbrellas who asked her to go out with him. He wanted to show her Lumahai Beach near Hanalei, the most photographed beach in Kauai ... did she know that it was chosen as the nurses' beach in the movie "South Pacific"? ... she really had to see it ... less than an hour and a half away ... some friends of his had a car....
Kacey hesitantly accepted. She wasn't sure if she should go off with one of the island boys or not. But he did work for the hotel. Everyone she met was so nice to her, so friendly. Besides, she hadn't seen anything except the resort and the airport at Lihue. This would be a good chance to take in some of the island without going on one of those awful guided tours. Tomorrow was his day off. He would have his mother pack a picnic lunch for them. He would pick her up at ten....
* * *
Tai was a perfect host. It had been a marvelous day. The '67 Chevy sputtered in protest past the Temple of Refuge, and the spectacular Opaekaa Falls, rested stoically while Tai showed her the Kilauea Lighthouse ("the largest one of its kind in the world!") and coughed reverently when he pointed out the window to the Waioli Mission (built in 1834 by the first missionaries) then grinded to a halt when they reached Lumahai Beach. It was dramatically beautiful, she agreed.
Somewhere along the road a car passed them and honked in recognition. Shouts and waves passed between the occupants of the two cars. "Those are some crazy friends of mine." Tai told her. The car had turned around and followed them the rest of the way, sometimes trailing far behind, then speeding up until it was bumper to bumper with them, then pulling out quickly and passing, leaving a trail of dust that engulfed them in its wake. They were having fun getting their kicks from the simple cat and mouse game; they were showing off for her benefit. Tai took it all good naturedly, showing only slight exasperation. He was proud of his cargo. It was obvious that having her in the seat beside him made him feel important.
They swam, they walked along the broad beach foraging for sea shells, they had a picnic lunch with some kind of local drink that intoxicating under the tropical sun. But Kacey felt good. She felt secure.
Night comes suddenly to the islands. One moment they were watching the mauve and crimson sunset, the next, they were plunged in near darkness, as though someone had hurriedly pulled down a shade. They started to look for palm leaves and whatever else would serve as firewood when they saw Tai's three friends approaching. They must have been nearby all along ... or perhaps they left and came back. At any rate, they were fairly drunk now. Two of them waved bottles in their hands. They wanted to party! Tai walked towards them, speaking in pidgin English-Kacey couldn't understand a word of what he said. It was a local dialect, no doubt. They were arguing, giving Tai a hard time. One of the youths grabbed him savagely by the arm and barked something at him in a menacing tone. Tai capitulated to the threat and walked back to where Kacey was standing. He was rattled, she could see. But he tried to act cool. "Do you mind if my friends joins us?" he asked politely, knowing that she really had no choice.
"I think we'd better go." she said urgently.
"We'll go pretty soon. But let's make a fire and have something to drink with them first. They'll go when the booze runs out. Don't worry-they're good boys. They've just had a little too much firewater!"
Firewater ... the goddess smirked inside.
The flickering flames made weird shadows on the brown faces around the little bonfire. They were sitting Indian fashion, drinking from the bottles of strong, pungent liquid. All except one of them-the one with the broad chest and powerful arms, who hung back in the shadows, quietly drinking from his own bottle. He was sullen, taciturn. Whenever one of them spoke to him he barely grunted in acknowledgement.
"You like parties?" one of them asked Kacey. He was sloppy fat, with a shock of patent leather hair hanging over his eyes. He kept jerking his head to one side, in a lazy and futile gesture to flick the ebony curtain away, but it hung there heavily over his brow.
"Yes, I like parties." Kacey answered.
"What kind of parties do you like?"
"Oh ... all kinds, I guess." She was beginning to feel a tension in the back of her neck.
"All kinds, huh?" He began to laugh, and the ripples spread around the circle. Tai shifted nervously. "What about balling parties? You like those, huh?" He was banging the sand with the butt of the empty bottle. Kacey flashed on film clips of Japanese wrestlers who pound their hands for hours against a smooth stone or a block of wood to forge them into nerveless weapons. A shudder went through her. "You like to fuck?" he said suddenly.
The unexpected four-letter word shocked Kacey. She got up and started to run back to the car. She might as well have been an amputee she was quickly pounced on by the agile kid who sat next to the fat inquisitor. She screamed and kicked and clawed at the youth's face sending a trickle of blood down the brown cheek. "I'll get you for that!" he spat at her. He was very lean, but his little body was hard as nails. "Come'ere, you guys. Somebody help me with this wild bitch!" Kacey flailed her arms and legs and beat her fists against his narrow back.
"Shit, man! You mean you ain't man enough to handle that little broad?" the fat boy goaded. With that the slender youth became a sleek brown panther. He pinioned her arms above her head and spread her legs with his bare feet. He forced his mouth onto hers, kissing her brutally, sinking his teeth into the soft full lower lip. Kacey cried out in pain as the warm taste of his saliva trickled onto her tongue. The fat kid chuckled snidely.
Next he gripped both her wrists in one hand while he tore the straps of her bathing suit with the other. He yanked the bikini top down, releasing the pneumatic breasts which popped up like rubber balls surfacing suddenly from a sack. "Man, look at those tits!" the boy panted. His hard, slender penis was grinding into her pelvis like mad. He rubbed his flat palm across them and kneaded the plump mounds as though they were loaves of unbaked bread. He pinched the sensitive nipples. He poked and prodded and squeezed them the way a toddler would fondle two warm puppies. Then he sucked each one into his mouth with the uninhibited eagerness of an infant nursing.
"Don't make a meal of it, man!" the fat youth admonished. "Save some for the rest of us." He snickered and his beefy lips showed an even rows of ivory teeth that looked like keys on a piano.
Serve some for the rest of us! Kacey repeated inwardly. A gang-bang, Hawaiian style! Oh God, why did she ever leave the resort!
Lying on the sand, feeling more helpless and vulnerable than she ever had before, Kacey didn't even try to stop the tears that rolled down her face. She felt trapped and helpless, like a small bird caught in the clutched of a voracious cat, and all she could do was lie there defenselessly while the hungering animal devoured her.
The boy was tearing at the buttons of her bikini now, pulling it roughly down around her thighs, past the rust-colored delta of her female genitals, over the firmly curved mounds of her buttocks, along the marble-smooth thighs and the pretty knees, down the shapely calves and ankles until nothing was hidden but a narrow band of flesh below her breasts, where the bikini top still encircled her body.
The boy raised himself to his knees and released her arms while he fumbled with the zipper on his chino pants. Kacey saw an opportunity to get away, and she rolled over and started to scramble along the sand on her hands and knees. "Stick that sow from behind, man! Stick her doggy fashion!" came the insulting suggestion from the fat boy. There was more muttering among them in dialect.
The kid grabbed the cheeks of her buttocks and pulled her backwards, scooting toward he on the sand as he did so. She fell down on her elbows, leaving her whitely shimmering ass cheeks jutting in the air. Suddenly she was speared up in her wide-split cunt from behind by a stiff little rod of hotly throbbing cock flesh as he leaned hard down over her back. She cried out in momentary pain. His two brown hands grabbed the sensuously swaying breasts beneath her chest and clutched them fiercely. Kacey's body was trembling, and her breasts and loins were flushed with a strange blending of emotions. She involuntarily jerked as she felt the first tiny prodding from the lurking goddess within her and the licking tongues of fire once again began to dance in her body. The boy's heart pounded against her back like a jackhammer, the head of his cock implanted deep up inside her open cunt.
He was fucking her like crazy, wheezing and groaning and kneading her now erotically throbbing breasts for all he was worth. He seemed like a brown rabbit. Then suddenly, he gasped and shuddered against her as his hot little cock delivered its hotly scalding payload deep up into the furnace of her cunt. It was all over so quickly, she hardly could get accustomed to the turgid muscle inside her before it began to relax in the bath water of the boy's creamily spewing sperm. It was quick, but it was enough to stir the fires of lust within her.
Her face was buried in her arms on the warm sand, her naked ass cheeks waving high in the air behind her. She felt the boy's belt buckle scrape harshly against the satin flesh of her buttocks as he tumbled sideways to the ground. One hand clung tenaciously to her breast, milking it like a cow's udder as the boy fell. "Move over, Speedy Gonzalez!" the fat boy ordered. He had kicked him aside with a massive foot. Smack! The broad, fleshy hand delivered a stinging whack to the upturned cheek of her buttocks. "Owwwwwww!" was her pained response.
"Giddyup, horsie," as he spanked her flesh again. "Giddyup, I said." And he smacked her buttocks again. Kacey started to crawl on her hands and knees, complying to the cruel game. The others were laughing self-consciously at the charade, not entirely approving the jest.
The fat boy followed her, spanking her harder and harder, stinging her painfully but not injuriously.
"Please ... please don't!", came the impassioned plea through her cries of pain.
"Hey, Fats," she heard Tai call, "Take it easy, will you?"
"I ain't gonna hurt your girlfriend, Chicken Shit! I'm just gettin' her warmed up for you, that's all ... just havin' a little fun. Ain't tht right, baby? We're just having fun, ain't we?" he jested humorlessly. Kacey's choked sobs answered for her.
"Roll over, now. Roll over, Lassie!" Fats commanded. Kacey obediently rolled over on her back. "Now open your legs, Lassie." was the next command. "I wanna see that hot little pussy I'm gettin' into."
She lay there rigid, afraid to move and afraid not to obey the command of the fat boy who hulked over her. A hard pinch on the tender flesh of her pubic mound evoked a strangled "Aaaaagh!" from her, and she drew her knees up towards her chest in pain.
"That's the idea, sweetheart. Wider!" Fats commanded again, and impatiently he grabbed her ankles and pushed them wide apart, exposing the pink, moist flesh between the soft, hair-lined lips of her cunt. Kacey shut her eyes tightly. She could hear the sound of a zipper, then the soft shuffling noises of pants being dropped.
"Open your eyes, bitch." Fats chuckled. "I got something for you to see."
Kacey forced herself to look, then she gasped and held her breath. The youth's penis jutted out from his body like the swinging boom of a yawl.
"No!" she screamed, "I can't! I can't take that-it'll kill me!" She suddenly flashed on Steve's angry parting diatribe: 'You don't need a man-you need a frigging bull elephant, who'll split you apart then trample you to death!" Maybe he had been right; maybe that's what she needed. Certainly here was the living embodiment of that accusation. There was something masochistically tantalizing about the lurid visions of her torn and broken body lying in the wake of his maurauding elephant's path. Fit punishment for her depraved cocndu conduct. In some ways, even death would be preferable to the ceaseless torture her nymphomaniacal cravings had brought her. But suppose she were to find him-the one man who could free her from her helpless sexual enslavement ... then she could begin again; then she could relish life as a normal, productive member of society again. She would be free to fall in love, get married, have children ... all the things that she held in esteem. Yes, then it would have been worth it ... then all the pain, the anguish, the guilt-ridden episodes of horror and depravity, those would be exorcised forever, relegated to a dim, dusty corner of her sub-conscious mind.
In spite of her fear and revulsion, Kacey found that the lava of Pele began to fill her veins. That enormous cock! This time ... this time it had to work!
A strange, wicked little smile flickered across her beautiful face. The fellows around the bonfire looked at each other in amazement. A sudden and unfathomable transformation had come over the girl who was lying prostrate on the sand. The fright, the pained expression on her face had become one of unexpected lust.
Fats was lying down next to her now. "Get up on top of me and straddle my cock," he told her. Quickly she raised herself up and climbed up the mountain of his flesh, like a climber ascending Mt. Everest. The brown folds of his stomach were clammy and hot. "Sit up and lean back on your hands." he ordered tersely. She was grateful that she wouldn't have to look at his ugly face, that she wouldn't have to kiss the beefy, liver-colored lips and she did as she was told bracing her leaning back body with her hands behind her on his knees.
One huge hand spread the blushing lips of her cunt apart until she thought they would split; the other was stroking the writhing python between his legs, guiding it towards the hungering slit. There was an anxious silence around the campfire as the giant snakehead touched the visibly pulsating nest of her cunt. For a moment it bobbed against the moist edges of tender flesh. Then, with a sudden upward thrust of his hips, Fats forced the blood-filled head into the mouth of her cunt, stretching the thin, rubbery flesh almost to the bursting point.
Kacey threw her head wildly to the side and screamed. "Aaaaggghhhhhhh!"
"Shut up." Fats warned her. "Hey, Tai, come over here and put something in your girlfriend's mouth to shut her up, will you?" he called. "Naw, Fats, I...." Tai declined.
"You're crazy, man ... what are you, some kinda fairy, chicken shit asshole? Get your ass over here!"
Kacey watched as Tai took off his swim trunks. He had a well-formed body. He was a clean-cut, good looking kid with a beautiful, long thin young cock. Kacey was excited at the prospect of having its warm, heated smoothness in her mouth. She was salivating with anticipation....
Tai stood, feet apart on the ground, straddling Kacey's face and the whale she lay atop of. He looked at her apologetically, but she smiled reassuringly, showing the archipelago of beautiful white teeth. She ran her wet tongue enticingly over her sensuous lips, and his cock jerked responsively. "Open your mouth wide, baby," the voice beneath her boomed, "Tai's got a lollipop for you." The fat boy chuckled. Tai's handsome cock was only inches from her mouth. A clear drop of muceous-like liquid glistened from it's tip. She reached out, like a lizard striking out at an insect, and flicked it off. Tai gasped with excitement. "Oh suck me ... ; suck me." he whispered hoarsely, and he shoved his hot organ into her mouth until the tip of it touched the back of her throat and she momentarily gagged.
At that point, Fats raised his hips again, impaling her throbbing cunt an inch on his menacing pole. The pain was unbearable. She would never be able to swallow it all the way up into the mouth of her tiny pussy.
"Uuuuggghhhh!" came the muffled sound past the slippery prick that filled her mouth.
Another inch.
"Aaaaggg!" she cried against the piston. Her cries were rewarded by a sudden flesh-tearing thrust from the bloated cocksman beneath her, as he plowed upward into her tightly clasping pussy, pushing the delicate folds of soft, moist vaginal flesh in wetly rolling waves ahead of his whale-sized pole.
Over and over he fucked into her, driving every inch of his massive cock up into the tightly constricting confines of her cunt. She was trying desperately to suck on the cock that was hydraulically pumping in and out of her mouth, but the excruciating pressure against her wide-split cunt-walls distracted her.
Suddenly, Fats stopped.
The huge, pulsating cock lay imbedded to the hilt inside Kacey's cunt like an ancient impaling sword. She could feel it throb rhythmically within her, the huge, lust-swollen head feeling as though it were throbbing out right next to her heart.
There was a deathly silence at the fireside, as the other friends of Tai's watched in alert anticipation.
Then slowly, very slowly, Fats began to move his hips up and down again, panting under the smoothly grinding curves of her ass. His movements were more gentle now.
The pain began to ease, allowing weird sensations of pleasure to supplant the discomfort. The outrageous debasement brought her strange, masochistic pleasure. Unthinkingly, her hips began to gyrate more intensely now in syncopation with the massive cock that impaled her from below. And as they did so, her mouth drew Tai's cock deeper back against her tonsils with a determined little suction motion.
"Oh yessshh ... yessshhJ Fuckh me Ihike thagh! Fhuckh me Ihike thagh!" emanated the stiffled cries from around the swollen prick in her mouth. She was sucking it for all she was worth now, licking, lapping, chewing eagerly on the rapidly expanding rod. Tai panted and groaned with pleasure. The cheeks of his ass were tightly flexed under her pinching fingers as his sperm-filled young balls swayed heavily back and forth against her nakedly dancing breasts.
Her cried and the responsive movements of her buttocks against the jelly-like flesh of his pelvis drove Fats wild. He fucked faster and faster up into her now squishily engulfing cunt hole.
"Oh God! Don't stop ... don't stop!" she was pleading inwardly. Soon ... soon ... it will happen ... soon!
Then she felt the shaft of flesh inside her cunt expanding ... felt the motion become eratic....
No! No, wait! Not yet! she cried silently, desperately. But it was too late. The fat boy let out a loud groan as his huge balls began pumping squirt after squirt of hotly spewing cum deep up into her belly. She halted her frenetic grinding for a moment and clasped salaciously at his heavily exploding prick with the inner muscles of her pussy-but it only encouraged him to empty his heavily jerking testicles of their last shots of warm sticky sperm. Then he sighed heavily beneath her.
Fats' orgasm excited Tai to the point of climax, and seconds later he was filling her mouth with the same kind of acrid white liquid that Fats had released into her cunt. She sucked and licked and swallowed gulp after gulp of the warm, whitely flowing semen, choking it down with desperate excitement and frustration.
There's the other one, she was thinking wildly. That quiet one ... she prayed that he would be the one to do what none of the others had done....
She turned her head to the side, in the direction of the fire, sending Tai's shriveling cock bouncing against her cum-smeared chin.
"Please ... you ... please you fuck me now ... please!" she pleaded to the dim figure sitting in the shadows. She saw him get up and begin to undress quickly. Her body quivered impatiently with unfulfilled longing and expectation. Tai got up then, and she, rolled off the mountain and squirmed clear of his limp, whale-like hulk, lying on her back and letting her upraised knees fall outward.
She saw the man crawling towards her, felt him crawling between her legs ... felt his urgent hands part the throbbing lips of her quivering vagina. Then suddenly, there was the sharp sting of a fiery knife of lust-hardened cock flesh burrowing up between her thighs.
Her whole body twitched and writhed uncontrollably as she groaned in abandoned welcome to the deliciously punishing instrument that fucked deep with one long, cunt-flattening lunge, up into her eagerly devouring pussy. Her face was contorted with passion; cries of ecstasy escaped her tightly clenched teeth.
"Oh ... Oh God!" she gasped as the man's hands slipped under the rounded moons of her buttocks, cupping and raising them while he thrust his cock into her with all the strength of his hips and thighs. She was moaning incoherently as she wound her smooth, hotly sweating legs tightly around his hips. The succulent folds of her vagina held him, squeezing his rigid column tightly to it until she could feel every tiny ridge of his throbbing, coursing cock. This ... this was the madness she had known only once before ... a total surrender. Why was he different? He wasn't as huge as the elephant cock before him. What was there about him that made the fires in her body begin to burn with lava-like intensity? ... what was there that made her vagina ache to swallow him forever up inside her?
She screwed her buttocks up tight against his pelvis until she could feel the swelling of his balls pressed hard into the wet, wide-stretched crevice below her cunt. The soft, hairy skin danced teasingly against the sensitive outer rings of her tiny, naked anus, sending shivers of lewd delight surging through her fluttering nerve ends.
There was nothing else in the world; no tomorrow, no yesterday, no other man ... only the deep, dark hole of lust ... only a world of sweet, blind, fucking into oblivion....
"Oh yes ... yes ... fuck me hard ... give it to me!" she begged him. She was approaching orgasm and her body had become something animal as she twisted and contorted it recklessly, spreading her legs wide apart and then pulling them up to her shoulders ... bending her knees, spurring him to fuck her harder and faster with her heels as though he were a wild stallion.
The voices in her mind still prodded her. Why was this man different? What was he doing that made her body feel so special? A whiff of coconut oil grazed her nostrils, but she didn't make the connection. Her flesh had become whitehot with passion and that took precedence. Her head flailed wildly from side to side. She forgot about the others who were watching. It didn't matter. Everything was forgotten as she swung her thighs up and clasped the man's hips with the backs of her calves, winding her tapered legs around his body. Her ankles were locked tightly together high on his back, spiraling her ravenous vagina up the full length of his slippery, rock-hard cock.
The man was saying something to her in a strangely familiar voice, but Kacey fucked on unheedingly. She was ready to cum and she couldn't think about anything else now. The lava was flowing in her belly ... Pele was stirring the searing volcanic brew. Sweat poured from her body as she flailed in wild abandon and panted faster and faster. The climax was only an infinitesimal eternity away.
Oh God! Would she be cheated again?
And then it began to happen!
Kacey felt the head of the deeply imbedded cock swell perceptibly inside her. A split second later, it began to erupt like one of Pele's volcanoes, raining hot, molten jism into the welcoming valley of her hotly flaring cunt.
For one blinding second, Kacey thought that she had been cheated again. Then her body exploded in fiery ecstasy ... again and again the rockets of exquisite pleasure burst inside her body, sending streamers of fiery delight bursting out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
"Ohhhhhh! Ohhh Godddd!" she cried aloud. "Oh God, I'm free! ... I'm Free!" She felt purged, sanctified, exorcised. Pele shrank within her like The Wicked Witch of The West in "The Wizard of Oz".
Once again the scent of coconut oil wafted into her nostrils. She felt a hot, wet mouth embrace her yielding lips in a meaningful, tender kiss. She had to see that face! She lifted the head from her face and looked into the soft, dark eyes. A glint of recognition met her searching gaze. Suddenly, the face smiled, showing a perfect set of evenly matched white teeth except for the one in the middle-the one that was made of smoothly shining silver....
