Derek smiled to himself. "Just a little more," he whispered. The girl, whimpering happily, spread her legs in an attempt to better accommodate. With one long, smooth movement, he pulled his rod way out and then wedged it fully in. There he stopped, enjoying the sensation. Slowly he drove the heavy piston back and forth through the tight cylinder of her hot flesh. He could feel the swollen lips stretched tightly around the thick bore of his long shaft.
The snug, slippery tunnel squeezed, gripped, stroked and rubbed the entire length of his slowly moving stick, hotly stimulating each of the million nerve endings and firing his passion to greater heights.
She was good-very good-perhaps the best he'd ever had!
EVERYMAN'S DREAM: PARADISE AND PUSSY
Standing with his feet planted apart, the hot tropical sun sizzling his naked body, Derek Wakefield held his cock and peed into the white coral sand at his feet. Even like this, loose and flaccid, his prick was a fascinating, mysterious and marvelous organ. After years of vigorous experimenting, he still had no glimmering of its secrets. He didn't know how it created that special magic which could set him aflame with delicious anticipation from the mere sight of a pretty girl or how his whole being could be engulfed in the beautiful transcendental experience of an exploding orgasm.
No, he knew next to nothing about these things or any of the others which were supposed to be important in life. He only knew that sexual pleasure was the greatest trip of all, and that his dream of paradise on earth was about to come true. That is, it would come true if they would let him out of quarantine. He had been here for more than twenty-four hours. Told to throw away his clothes and get a tan as quickly as possible, he was instructed to use the beach freely but to stay away from the villa until invited.
Late yesterday, he had seen a beautiful nude romping in the surf. He had jumped the bamboo railing of the porch of his bungalow to jog down the hot sand to speak to her. When she saw him, still at a distance, she had smiled, waved, then dashed up the beach and into the large villa. Exasperated, Derek had stood in the shimmering heat, squinting against the light towards the long, low building.
Shaking his cock firmly to remove the after-drops, Derek glanced up to find a tall, nude girl standing a short distance down the beach watching his every move. She was the same one he had seen yesterday. He smiled nervously, a mixed reaction of surprise and desire. Her glacial white-blonde hair hinted at a Scandinavian heritage. Her fine figure just bordered on being too ripe, too full, yet remained wantonly sexy. She was, Derek decided, a beautiful girl. Only her misty blue eyes belied her delightful appearance. Even when she smiled, her eyes remained sad.
How long had he dreamed of this? A long time. At eleven, while he was just beginning to show the results of the first spurts of sexual growth, a precocious fourteen year old girl had initiated him into the unbelievable world of sex. This is it! he had thought. I'll never be able to get enough. From that day on, he was preoccupied with devising schemes for obtaining willing girls and being able to enjoy them whenever he wanted. It wasn't, however, until he was fifteen and his grandfather, the late Roland D. (Derek) Wakefield, had died that a practical means for realizing his dream became possible.
His grandfather's will set up a trust which he was to inherit at the age of twenty-seven. The stocks and bonds of the trust had grown since Roland's death ten years earlier to more than $550,000 plus one-third interest in Wakefield Industries. That was the key: MONEY. And all he had to do was wait.
Now, he had found a substitute that was shaping up just fine. Derek eyed the girl, who was still standing quietly nearby, her nude body pale and fragile in the strong afternoon light. "Hi," he said.
"Hello, Derek. Welcome to the Islands. My name is Joyce."
"I saw you yesterday, didn't I? Are you going to stay around today?"
"I might, if you can keep me interested."
Derek flashed his tooth-filled grin. "I can try."
"Let's hope you're good." She took his arm. "Come, let's get out of this sun."
They walked down the beach towards the grove of palms. Joyce Engelsen had ventured out on the hot sand, risking the direct rays of the tropical sun, just so she could get a close-up look at the newcomer. So far, she didn't consider the effort wasted. Though not very tall, he had the physique and the face of a Greek god. His lean body with its well defined muscles marked him as an athlete, a weight lifter or maybe a gymnast. Not a weight lifter, she thought, thinking of Shearer's muscle-bound bodyguards. Weight lifters were usually more interested in their own narcissistic selves than anyone else. A gymnast, she prayed, remembering her one and only semester at NYU where she had met Jerry Van Williams, a leading gymnast. He had been so kind and gentle. Even now, four years and several lifetimes later, she could still recall the feel of his handsome, supple body naked against hers. The pain of how that wonderful relationship had been ripped apart by his disapproving parents caused a chill to shake her body. "You all right?" Derek asked.
"Yeah, sure." Joyce selected the curving trunk of a palm to sit next to where she could be in the shade of the slowly swaying fronds. She reached up and pulled Derek down beside her. "You don't mind, do you? I mean not being in the sun. I'm allergic to sunlight, so I can't stay in it too long."
"No, that's all right. I can get the sun anytime." Derek ran his fingertips over the smooth surface of her pale shoulder. "You have beautiful skin. I don't think I've ever seen such lovely white skin."
"Thank you." Her eyes moved over his body. "With your complexion, you'll have a deep tan in no time." Her cool fingers coasted down Derek's ribs and across his thigh.
"Yeah, I like the sun," he replied absently, his eyes lingering on her breasts. Unable to resist, he reached out to cup one of the big breasts. The electrifying sensation of her spongy flesh charged his prick into a stiff erection.
"Oh, how nice. How very nice." Her fingers tried unsuccessfully to encircle the girth of the phallus. "Do you find me attractive?" she asked, not taking her eyes from the erect prick.
With excitement coursing through his body, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, Derek swallowed and whispered, "Oh, yes. You're so lovely."
Joyce smiled and her soft lips met his. They kissed a long time, their lips moving gently against one another. Then he forced his tongue into her mouth. She became very animated, moving her head from side to side, squirming her soft body against his. Derek drew her more tightly to him, his tongue fencing passionately with hers. His hands stroked her smooth back, kneading her soft ass and caressing her pale flank.
He was so excited that he had to pull away to gulp some air.
Her fingers returned to his erect prick which was so charged that it was visibly throbbing. For a moment, she cupped the egg-sized balls which clung tightly to the base of the long shaft. Then her fingers moved up so she could slowly stroke the foreskin up and down the steel-hard column. "Garrett is always bragging about his eight inches, but now he's going to have to be happy as number two." Joyce's voice for the first time sparkled with a hint of real excitement. "Will you fuck me, Derek?"
"Oh, baby," Derek sighed passionately. He pushed her onto her back, his lips seeking hers, his tongue darting into her mouth. Stretched over her body, he jockeyed his hips around until the broad tip of his jutting prick found its target all by itself. The lips of her cunt were swollen and hot to the touch of his sensitive organ. Slowly he rocked his hips forward and his prick began penetrating. Her cunt, hot and moist, was ready for him. A little more pressure and his glans burst in. She gasped, arching her back. He shoved harder, her cunt yielding as his prick plunged deeper. He withdrew an inch, then thrust violently into her. She cried out, her eyes snapping open. Derek smiled and kissed her lips. His prick was only halfway in, but he waited while she relaxed and became used to its size. When she closed her eyes again, with a slight smile curving her lips, he began ramming savagely, wanting, needing his prick buried to the hilt.
"Oh, please stop," she protested. "I can feel your hard cock clear up in my stomach."
"Doesn't it feel good?" he asked, rocking slowly from side to side, causing his phallus to stir deep inside of her.
"Yeah," she murmured, sucking in quick breaths of air. Again Derek waited, moving only minutely, while her cunt expanded and secreted more lubrication. Even so, she screamed when he thrust strongly into her again. Her legs whipped up and gripped his waist tightly, preventing any further movement.
Derek smiled to himself. "Just a little more," he whispered. The girl, whimpering happily, spread her legs in an attempt to better accommodate him. With one long, smooth movement, he pulled part way out and then wedged his giant prick fully in. There he stopped, enjoying the sensation. Buried to the hilt like this, his cock felt even bigger than it was. Slowly he drove the heavy piston of his prick back and forth through the tight cylinder of her hot flesh. He could feel the swollen cunt lips stretched tightly around the thick bore of his long shaft. The snug, slippery, silky tunnel squeezed, gripped, stroked and rubbed the entire length of his slowly moving prick, hotly stimulating each of the million nerve endings, firing his passion to greater heights.
He knew he had a big prick but when he had a soft female totally impaled on his massive spear, when he could feel her tender sheath stretched tautly around the girth and length of his mighty erection, that was when he understood the true power of his sex organs, and was when he enjoyed them best.
Derek moved carefully and slowly for awhile, and then he began to drill into her with unchecked abandon. She was ready and willing, meeting his plunges with upward thrusts of her own. The hot tropical air had them both glistening with sweat. And as they continued to fuck, Derek could feel the sweat running freely off his flexing body. Sand clung to their bodies, but they ignored it.
Joyce's gasps became staccato and Derek stepped up the speed of his thrusting, pushing her to her orgasm. She gave a sobbing gasp and her whole body began to shudder. Derek rapidly pumped his cock in and out of her cunt. Soon her spasms began to subside, but his ecstasy was still building.
Shifting more of his weight onto the spongy balloons of her breasts, he slid his hands down to grip her hips. He held them firmly, grinding violently into her wet cunt. As the pressure built in his loins, his prick engorged to its maximum as it always did the moment before he came and his balls throbbed. He dug his toes deeper into the sand, thrusting, stroking, fucking harder and faster. Suddenly the tingling contractions exploded into a hot gyser of gushing ecstasy, which convulsed his lean body in a half-dozen savage thrusts, squirting his rich cream deep inside the girl. Moaning with the excruciating beauty of the experience, he managed some more thrusts before collapsing.
He lay completely relaxed, silent and unmoving. Joyce's hands caressed his sweaty body. His prick shrank back to its quiescent mass. Joyce's cunt still overflowed with the sheer size of him.
When his breathing and heartbeat quieted, Derek pushed himself up on straight arms and watched as he tugged his glistening cock out of Joyce's sloppy cunt. Her red pubic hair was matted with sweat and come. Squatting back on his heels, he patted her triangle. "You have a sweet little cunt."
"You're a brute," Joyce said.
Taking the statement as a compliment, Derek kissed her on the nose and helped her to her feet. They walked down to the cool Pacific for a brief swim. Derek still didn't know who Mr. James Shearer was or what the real purpose of his island hideaway was, but he wasn't sorry he had come.
Emerging refreshed from the sea, they walked hand in hand up the beach to mount broad, curving steps to the flagged terrace of the long villa which sat on the sloping earth, fifty feet above the quiet Pacific. They seated themselves at one of the three white enameled tables which were shaded by colorful umbrellas. Below them, the half-mile wide cove was protected from the outside world by the continuation of the ancient volcanic caldera on whose floor the isolated estate had been erected. The ceaseless pounding of the Pacific had long ago eroded away one side of the huge cone. The two ends of the remaining portion of the circle cut off each end of the beach, forming tall headlands, which jutted several yards into the green sea, causing it to foam a stark white against the sharp black of the volcanic stone.
Joyce took a machine-made cigarette from the small teakwood humidor which sat on the table and lit it. Inhaling a deep lungful of smoke, she offered it to Derek. He was about to refuse when the scent reached him. The sweet-acrid smell was unmistakable: Pot. He examined the cigarette closely, nodded approvingly and sucked a big toke in. By the time he exhaled, the potent grass was already making him tingle.
He accepted the joint from a crimson-faced Joyce again and inhaled two more lungfuls. As a regular user, he needed very little to get high and this grass must be Acapulco number one gold. It was even better than the high quality stuff Garrett had. The combination of the refreshing exhilaration Of his recent orgasm and the relaxing effects of the pot soothed Derek and made him pleasantly happy. Man, this was the life, no hassle, only peace, nudity and sex.
Seeking the sun, he pushed his chair away from the table, reclined the adjustable back and slumped against it with his eyes closed. The sun bathed him in warmth.
In the shade of the umbrella, Joyce smiled. Derek reminded her of Jerry in so many ways. They both were about the same size and coloring. Jerry had black hair too, only his wasn't naturally curly like Derek's. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, thick sculptured pectorals and large dark nipples. They could all have been Jerry's. The brownish-red nipples were particularly sexy to Joyce. Derek's chest and tapering abdomen were chiseled bronze, free of the slightest hint of hair except for a small mat of thick, kinky pubic hair. Even his muscular legs had only a slight dust-ting of hair. Jerry had more, but not much.
But it was the fascination-repulsion of his sex organs which held her attention. She could easily understand why Milinda had hired him. That bitch would take great pleasure in using him like the stud he was, for her pleasure-not his. Her eyes were again riveted. Even flaccid, the chubby, uncircumcised organ exhibited a lordly presence which must measure close to seven inches. Swollen with hot blood and fully erect? Joyce tried to remember the appearance of his hard flesh before it sounded into the heretofore uncharted depths of her being. Nine inches? Yes, she would bet good money that Derek had close to that size when fully aroused. His cock was a dusky brown, darker than the rest of his body. The corrugated scrotum, with its heavy spheroids, was also more deeply pigmented.
Yes, he would provide an excellent show for Mr. Shearer and was well worth whatever Milinda had offered to pay him. But he wasn't Jerry. Jerry had a normal sized, circumcised penis which he used in such a gentle manner that she never had a sense of being violated like other men gave her. How lovely it had been. With the memory of pleasure came the pain of embarrassment and shame which had resulted from the last time she and Jerry had slept together, the time his mother had walked in on them.
Quickly she started another joint. As she exhaled, she realized that she was soon going to have to return to her room for something stronger. She sighed loudly. She shouldn't condemn all men. She was the one with the depraved sexual needs, isn't that what her mother and Mrs. Van Williams had said? Maybe Derek was actually a nice guy.
"What you do you think of this place?" she asked.
Derek glanced at her through half-opened eyes. He smiled. "I don't know about the setup, but if you're a sample of the people, it must be one of the best in the world."
Joyce tried to make her laughter seem light. "Flattery, now that's something I haven't heard for a long time." She took another drag on the joint. "Tell me about yourself and how you happened to end up here, of all places."
Derek's smile vanished and his features clouded over as he recalled the thunderous rage his father had been in when he had arrived at the Eugene city jail.
A BAD SEED OR BAD SOIL?
Derek was in the gray holding tank with a half-dozen other male students who had been rounded up in a raid at the old Victorian house near the University of Oregon in Eugene. It was two-thirty in the morning when the heavy-set guard lead Mr. Richard D. Wakefield into the Jail section. Derek's father was immaculately dressed in a gray suit with light pin-striping, a sparkling white, stiffly starched shirt and a conservative striped tie. "Yes," Mr. Wakefield said to the guard, "he's the one."
"Hi, Dad," Derek said, surprised at his appearance. The police must have contacted him, but why did he come? "Did you come to get me out?" His father neither looked at him nor answered his question. He simply turned and headed for the steel door.
"I'll bring him, Mr. Wakefield," the guard said as Wakefield walked out of the chamber.
The policeman unlocked the cell door and pulled Derek out, ignoring the threats and enticements of the other students. "What's going on?" Derek asked, still lost in the confusing fog of too much dope. "Are you letting me out? What about my friends?"
The fat policeman grabbed him by the arm and hauled him into the booking area. "You're one lucky punk," the guard said. "If I were you. I'd dummy up. Anything you say is only going to make it tougher on you."
They stopped by the prisoner log. "Now, you stand there and don't move, buster. You're not out of here yet and if you try anything cute, I'll crack your skull." Derek looked at the guard and stood very still. He was still high from all the dope and beer he had consumed and at the moment was feeling very paranoid. Pot sometimes did that to him.
The guard finished his entry in the log book and noticed Derek trembling. He laughed. "You know, on second thought, I don't think you're so lucky after all. I heard what Mr. Wakefield was saying to the desk sergeant. It sounded as if you would be better off staying in here and taking a suspended sentence from the court." The guard laughed again. "I hope he kicks your smart ass up around your shoulders."
Derek started to say something, but didn't because he wanted no trouble. The grim mouthed guard grabbed him again and pulled him into the outer office. His father was standing impatiently by the sergeant's desk. The fat guard shoved Derek in the direction of his father. "He's all yours," the cop said.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Mr. Wakefield said, pivoting for the door. Hesitantly, Derek followed him out to the waiting taxi. Once inside Mr. Wakefield ordered the driver to return to the airport. He said nothing to Derek and Derek was too confused and alarmed to think straight. He kept telling himself that he had nothing to worry about and that his paranoia was due to the pot. If he could only get his head straight, everything would make sense.
A couple times during the drive through the deserted city, Derek glanced sideways and caught his father glaring at him. But he immediately turned his attention back to the passing scene, ignoring Derek.
At the airport, Mr. Wakefield dismissed the taxi driver with a twenty dollar bill. Dave Morris, professional pilot for Wakefield Industries, stood near the yawning hatch of the blue Gate's Lear Jet with its tail inscribed with a gold W. "Are you ready?" Mr. Wakefield asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, let's go. Get in, Derek."
Derek, his confusion lifting some, said, "Don't you think I should stay here? I mean I have a class at eight o'clock in the morning."
His father turned an icy stare on him. "For seven years, you've been wasting my time. I'm tired of it. Get in and buckle up."
They covered the one hundred ten miles in less than twenty minutes, staying low and cruising well below the six hundred miles per hour that the jet plane was capable of.
Just before landing at the Portland International Airport, Derek tried to talk to his father. "I would like to explain."
"It would have to be a damn good story, but I'm not going to carry on a conversation with someone who's hopped up on dope."
"I'm not hopped up on anything."
"Bullshit! Now you sit there and keep quiet, or so help me I'll belt you."
Derek's head was buzzing again and his chest seemed tight, making it difficult to breath. Shit! Why all this hassle? So the old man wasn't happy about the way Derek spent his time or about the inheritance he would be soon getting. So tough. The old bastard should just cool it. Why did he always make such a big scene?
The Lincoln Continental Mark TV was completely silent as it sped along the nearly empty freeway from the airport to their West Hills home. Heavy clouds made the night almost inky.
Derek's mother was up when they entered the house, but his father refused to allow her to speak to him. "I know what I'm doing, Emily," Mr. Wakefield said firmly. Then turning to Derek, he said, "Doctor Rogers is going to give you a thorough examination at 10:30 tomorrow morning."
"But I don't need a physical. There's nothing wrong with me," Derek pleaded.
"Don't argue with me. You will take that exam tomorrow. Now go to bed.
"You making a big thing over nothing."
"Did you hear me? I said get into bed. Now, goddamn it, do as I say."
Derek sighed and went down the hall to his bedroom. Fortunately the dope allowed him to fall asleep almost immediately.
"Derek, Derek, I think you better get up. It's almost nine thirty and you don't want to be late for your medical appointment," his mother said.
Derek opened one eye and looked at her. "I don't need to see any doctor."
"Please, Derek, just do as your father asks. I don't think it's wise to antagonize him farther." She was probably right. "Okay."
"That's a good boy," she said, patting his arm. "I'll fix you something to eat."
Rising, Derek padded into the adjoining bathroom. Standing naked in front of the basin, he looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't see any criminal looking back, only the same quiet eyes he always saw. All he wanted was peace. And piece. So why all the hassle. If people would just leave him alone.
He went back into his bedroom, located his secret stash and returned to the bathroom. He switched on the exhaust fan and closed the door. Once he got the joint going, he ran a hand over his chin and decided to shave, even though there was virtually nothing to shave. After a long, hot shower during which he scrubbed himself from crown to heel, removing the taint of the night before, he turned the temperature selector to cool and forced himself to remain under the icy spray until he was wide-eyed and gasping. The big gold and brown towel left his skin tingling. He combed his hair and dressed in brown flares and an orange shirt.
"Perfect timing," his mother said as he entered the kitchen. "Your eggs are just done."
Derek sat at the breakfast bar and was served the eggs and some toast. "Do you want milk or coffee?"
"Milk, please," Derek answered.
He ate the food quickly while his mother fussed around the kitchen. She was a small woman with greying hair, who was timid to the point of being physically frightened of her husband. In times of stress, she would cluck around like a worried hen, but she seldom understood either Richard or Derek. She did, however, make sure the house was spotless and busied herself with outside interests.
Derek sensed at times that she wanted to offer him some type of help, but of course she never knew just what was called for. And if she did, it seemed un likely that she could openly oppose his father.
"Well," Derek said, standing, "I guess I better go." His mother glanced at the wall clock. "Oh, yes. Take the Audi. It's out in front. The keys are in it." Derek kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for the breakfast."
Doctor Mark Rogers, a highly successful physician specializing in diagnostic and internal medicine, had a series of suites on the eighth floor of the Medical Science Building in downtown Portland. In addition to a receptionist and a bookkeeper, he employed two full-time nurses. Mrs. Lowen, at forty, was one of the most skilled and efficient nurses working for any doctor in the city. Her attitude, however, was somewhat aloof. Twenty-nine year old Susan Westbrook, while not quite as efficient, was very pleasant and much nicer to look at. It was she who picked up Derek's medical file and directed him to examining room C.
"What's the problem this time?" she asked, holding the door open so he could enter.
"No problem."
"Huh?" She glanced at the appointment slip attached to the jacket of the folder. "Oh, I see. Just an examination. Well, why don't you slip out of your clothes and I'll do the preliminaries."
Early last summer when Derek had fallen from his motorcycle and abraded his left thigh and shoulder rather badly, Sue had been the nurse who had cut his torn shirt and jeans off. Her eyes had widened as she uncovered his genitals and she had said, "I hope nothing important was damaged." Derek had grinned.
Quickly he climbed out of his clothes, hanging them on the hangers and hooks next to the door. He ignored the silly white gown hanging there. Sue cleared her throat when he presented himself. "I swear you get healthier each time I see you," she said, glancing up to meet his eyes.
"I wish you'd tell that to my father."
"I don't think he would have the same appreciation for these things as I do." She smiled. "Get up on the scale and we'll start with your weight and height." She placed a thermometer under his tongue.
"Well, at least you haven't grown any taller," she said, recording the various bits of information. "Hop up on the table and I'll take your blood pressure, and then we'll wait for Dr. Rogers."
Sitting on the end of the black leather surgical table with its paper covering, Derek kept his legs apart so as not to crowd his sex organs and to insure Sue of an unobstructed view. As she worked, he watched her face. She was a big brunette as tall as he was, with a broad frame which was a bit too plump. And while she wasn't beautiful, she was sort of pretty. Her hands were warm and soft on his arm.
His prick stirred. He tried to ignore it but when he saw a hint of crimson flushed Sue's cheeks, he knew that she had noticed the swelling, too. That only caused his cock to lengthen into a partially raised erection.
Hurrying, Sue took her readings and pulled the monometer wrap from his arm. She cocked an eyebrow as she consulted his chart. "You know, when you do that you screw up your blood pressure."
Derek laughed. "That's an excellent choice of words."
Blushing, Sue nervously erased the figures she had entered. "I think I'll just copy the readings from your last visit." She put the pencil back into her breast pocket and her stethoscope into her waist pocket. Then standing very straight and with a completely serious face, she said, "If you play your cards right, I might let you do your Indian rope trick for me again sometime."
Derek laughed, his prick having relaxed once again. Just then, Dr. Rogers, a tall, good looking, middle-aged man, walked in. Noting Derek's nudity, he shot a questioning look at Sue. She handed him the chart and left the room.
Dr. Rogers was quick and efficient as he completed the rest of the examination. "Richard called me in the middle of the night, quite upset about your recent activities," he said in his deep professional voice.
"There's no reason for him getting so worked up."
"Breathe in and out through your mouth. He said you were picked up in some drug raid."
"We were having a party and it got a little noisy. I guess one of the neighbors called the cops."
"What kind of drugs were you using? Turn your head so I can examine your ears."
"We were blowing a little grass, that's all."
"Hmm." Rogers probed with strong fingers under Derek's ears and down his throat. "Have you ever used anything else?"
"No, of course not," Derek lied. "I've only tried grass maybe four or five times."
"Scoot up on the table more and lie back please." The doctor's fingers probed their way down Derek's thorax, across his abdomen and to his groin. "Hold your breath and flex all your muscles. Again. Any pains or complaints?"
Derek sat up, feeling slightly bruised and indigent. "No."
Dr. Rogers examined his forearms closely. "What are you shooting?"
"Nothing! For christsakes, what is this?" Derek was angry. Someone was always hassling him. "I told you the truth. I've been smoking a little pot and that's all. My father put you up to this, didn't he?"
Dr. Rogers slumped back against the counter to write on Derek's chart. "Your paranoia is showing, Derek. Relax, I believe you. Richard seemed to think you might be into something you couldn't handle. He's concerned, that's all."
"He has a damn funny way of showing it."
"We're about through here. I'll send Sue back to collect a blood sample and I'd like you to step into the adjoining toilet to leave a urine sample. Okay?"
Derek sighed. "Yeah, okay."
"And try not to be too hard on your father. He's a very busy man, under a lot of pressure."
Derek nodded. He's under a lot of pressure? Derek swore to himself. If his father would just accept the fact that Derek was old enough to do what he wanted and that he was going to inherit one-third of the business whether Richard liked it or not, there would be a lot less hassle for everyone.
When Derek opened the bathroom door after peeing into the bottle, Sue was waiting for him. "That's nice," she said, setting the bottle to one side. "But you could have gotten dressed."
Derek pulled a face. "I haven't had the time. You want to wait while I do?"
"No. Sit up here for a minute, and then you can take your sweet time."
"Ow! That hurts," Derek cried as Sue forced the needle into his vein.
"Sit still." Slowly she filled the big hypodermic. "How much are you taking?"
"Not enough that a big, strong fellow like you is going to miss it. There." She swabbed the puncture with a ball of cotton soaked in alcohol. "Hold this and fold your arm up. Okay, hero, you can get dressed now."
"And how am I supposed to do that when I got both hands tied up trying to stem that gash you drilled into me?"
Sue smiled. "I'd love to stay and play, but it's not allowed on company time. If you want to come around to my place some evening, however, I not only could teach you how to fasten your buttons but I could probably even teach you how to tie your shoes."
"Listen, Miss Angel in White, I have a thing or two I could show you."
"Oh, but I've already seen them," she said, heading for the door.
"Not in action."
"You promise?" She ducked out of the door before Derek could answer.
Smart broad. She looked like she would be a good romp. Maybe he would come home one weekend just to take her on. The idea gave him a moment of pleasure as he pulled on his clothes.
Outside the wind drove the rain hard against his face as Derek ran the three blocks to where he had parked the car. He was shivering and his clothes were soaked by the time he got the car door unlocked and jumped in. Turning up the heat, he headed for home feeling miserable and not knowing what to expect for act two.
The house was empty. He found a note from his mother on the dining room table: "Your father wants to see you in his office at five-thirty. I'm going to be out until about eight, so I have left some money for your lunch and dinner." She had signed it with a small M. Tucked under the blue note paper was a fifty dollar bill. How typical. What she couldn't supply in other forms, she tried to make up with money.
Shivering, Derek headed for his bedroom to pull off his wet clothes and stepped into a hot shower. He let the water play over his body, warming and relaxing it. He tried to push the matter of his father and the whole silly fracas from his thoughts, hoping to concentrate on something more pleasant.
He adjusted the shower head for greater volume at less pressure and redirected the spray onto his genitals. The force of the hot water felt good on his cock. Taking a bar of soap, he worked up a mass of lather around his sex organs. His prick stretched and hardened until it jutted boldly from his sudsy loins. Thinking of Sue and what she had said, he began to pump the foreskin back and forth over the taut plum of his glans. In mid-stroke, he was struck by a sudden inspiration.
He leaped from the shower and ran to the telephone where he looked up Dr. Rogers' number. "Hello. May I speak to Miss Westbrook? Thank you." He waited for a long time, dripping water and suds on the carpet. Slowly, his erection melted.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Sue. What time do you get off for lunch."
"Who is this?"
"You know, the guy with the indian rope trick."
"Derek?"
"Yeah. What time do you take your lunch."
"From one until three, why?"
"Be out in front at one and I'll pick you up. Look for a tan Audi."
"Ah-" she paused. "Okay, at one."
Derek climbed back into the running shower to rinse off. He had thirty minutes to get dressed and drive back downtown.
Sue dashed through the rain to the open car door. "Hi," she said, sliding in. "Nice day, huh."
"Yeah."
"I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"All good girls are rewarded. Where do you live?"
Sue looked at him. "I thought we were going to lunch."
"Did I say anything about food?"
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"Over on Northwest Twenty-third."
"Good, that's closer than my place." The car pulled away from the curb. "Are we going there? To my place, I mean."
"Yeah, unless you have something better in mind."
"Without eating?"
Derek looked her straight in the eyes as he stopped for a signal. "Are you really hungry?"
"Well, it won't hurt if I lose a pound or two. And under the circumstances, I think I can find some way to spend the time."
"You better believe it, baby."
Her tiny apartment was on the top floor of an older brick building. The small living room held only a few pieces of furniture and the walls were decorated with travel and pop posters. Records and books were laying at random all over the chairs, couch and coffee table.
"I bet you wouldn't be opposed to a little pot," Sue said, taking off her coat.
"Do you have some?"
"Surprise, surprise. I'll get it." She returned from the bathroom with the grass and a miniature pipe which she handed to Derek. "You get started and I'll join you in a minute."
Derek filled the pipe, got it burning and sucked a deep toke into his lungs. Sue returned wrapped in an Oriental style robe. Her legs and feet were bare and the fluid movement of her breasts told Derek that she was completely naked under the thin garment. "I like your outfit," he said, handing her the pipe.
Sue sucked in a big hit and held it until her face turned red. "This is good stuff," she said, exhaling. "We're going to be high in no time."
"I'm already high." Derek returned the pipe to her. They smoked in silence until the pipeful was exhausted.
"God, I'm flying," Sue sighed. She got up and pulled Derek along to the tiny bedroom which was just big enough to hold the double bed and a small dresser.
"Man, I dig being stoned," Derek confessed. "Your problems just melt away." The tips of his toes and fingers tingled and he was floating.
They sat on the edge of the bed. Sue rested one of her hands on Derek's thigh. The touch of her hand excited him. He pushed her back and leaning over, kissed her. Her eyes closed and she pulled him closer while he slipped his hand along her body and finally inside the robe to caress her naked thighs. Both of their breaths were coming faster now and they shot their tongues into each other's mouths, darting and sucking.
Her hands went to the swollen crotch of his pants. "Oh, Derek." This time she pushed him on his back and bent to unfasten his belt and unzip his slacks. Her hand reached in, searching. Derek moaned and squirmed around, spreading his legs so she could get into his tight pants. She clutched the thick base of his cock and tugged, trying to pull it out of its cramped quarters. At last, it sprang free, engorged to its fullest.
Her face reflected a mixture of awe and pleasure. "Oh my god, I don't believe it. I mean, I've seen you naked and everything, but I still wouldn't have thought you could get this big. I've never seen anything like it."
Derek with his eyes closed, shivered with pleasure as her fingertips lightly caressed his phallus. "It's so hard," she said, grasping the erect organ more firmly to slide the foreskin up and down. Sighing, Derek rocked his hips in ecstasy as she fondled him.
Her hand stopped at the apex of a stroke and the butterfly softness of her lips nibbled at the tip of his cock. "Oh, baby! Yes, that feels so good," Derek breathed. Her tongue swirled over the sensitive crown. Icy fire lanced along his erection and shot through his body, causing him to shudder with a spasm of pleasure.
"You really like having your cock sucked, don't you?" She asked in response to his trembling. With eyes glazed and blank from the overwhelming sensations, Derek could only pant and nod his head weakly. Sue stroked the foreskin back, exposing the broad purple-tinged head. "There's no way I would pass up a classic cock like this," she stated with happy bluntness. She sucked the dark red plum into the wet, warm cavity of her mouth, stroking it with her tongue and swiveling her head so the soft ring of her lips would stimulate the super-sensitive flaring of the coronal ring.
The hot desire was almost uncontrollable and reflexively Derek began bucking his hips upward, thrusting his hard phallus deeper into Sue's mouth. She grabbed the long cock with both hands to prevent it from choking her, yet she continued to suck and caress. And though her mouth could accommodate only a fraction of his length, her tight, double-handed grip formed a tunnel of sorts which helped to make up the difference. The overall effect was so stimulating that within six quick strokes, his lean body bowed upward and he spasmed three times very rapidly, squirting heavy globs of thick cream down Sue's throat. She swallowed them.
Derek stopped moving, but Sue continued to milk and suck his prick, which was slowly losing some if its hardness and size. Finally she released him and sat up. She sighed happily. "I loved that. To have a big, beautiful cock like yours go off in my mouth is fantastic. I actually had an orgasm, would you believe that?"
"Well, I know I sure as hell had one." Derek stood and stripped. He helped Sue out of her robe and laid her back on the bed. She squirmed coyly in the center of the bed, drawing her knees up and apart. The dark hair of her pussy parted to reveal a pink chasm, deep and glistening. Derek's prick swelled into a vigorous erection again. He crawled over her body and swiveled his hips around so the tip of his hard phallus brushed her cunt lips.
"Come on, Derek, put it in me," Sue ordered, guiding his bold prick into her wet cunt. "Oh! Easy, easy, go slowly," she cautioned. Gently, he sank down on the steel of his cock until it seemed to reach the end of the tunnel, then he pulled part way out and drove his big prick firmly through the hot, incredibly slippery cunt.
Sue writhed and groaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure for she was being stretched wider and probed deeper than she ever had been before. Her hands slid up and down Derek's back and across his trim ass, feeling the steel bands of his body flexing and straining to piston his massive cock in and out of her cunt. Just as she was being gripped by the beginnings of one of the most powerful orgasms of her life, Derek exploded, firing a quick volley into her. She was so afraid that his cock would soften and that he would automatically stop that it was a few seconds before she realized that he was still bigger than life and fucking hard.
Her fear burst in a ripping climax which convulsed her from tightening cunt to curling toes. Still Derek's muscular body flexed within her arms and still his enormous prick plowed deep inside of her. Suddenly his smooth movements became a chaotic series of bucks which signaled the third eruption of his hot geyser. His mighty spear of flesh continued to impale her, working now with the speed of a trip-hammer, pumping back and forth with blinding speed, while he squirted again and again until her cunt overflowed with each new thrust. Then he stopped.
Sue strained to tighten the walls of her cunt and Derek's prick quivered a couple of times and then softened. He lay on her, panting, while semen oozed out of her sloppy cunt and trickled down the inside of her thighs.
Derek extracted his cock and rolled over on his back, next to Sue. "You're one fine fucker," he said appreciatively.
"I think I've just had a religious experience." Her voice was tinted with wonder and humor. "I've been deeply moved." Derek grinned and patted her thigh. "Listen, I've got to get cleaned up and head back to the office. Am I going to see you later?"
Derek sat up, drawing his knees to his chin. "I don't know. It depends on what my father has on his mind."
"I'll leave you a key, okay? And, Derek, I really do want to see you again."
He looked up into her anxious face, feeling unwanted pressure being exerted on him. He forced a smile and said, "Yeah, sure."
THE COUNT
A good fuck meant more to Derek than anything else. It could soothe, relax, and at the same time, inspire him to new heights. He would sacrifice anything for the "Perfect Fuck." That was all his coming inheritance meant, a means to that end.
Some girls came close. Sue had been a good lay until she started to hassle him, to sink her claws into his flesh, into his very soul. That always made him uptight.
And now as he sat in the reception room of his father's penthouse suite in his father's modern five story office building, he was growing increasingly tense and anxious. The secretary, after notifying his father of Derek's arrival, took no notice of him. The Selectric typewriter which sat before her clicked softly to her, telling her interesting stories, stories of one man's power: Richard D. Wakefield. And, how in less than twenty-five years he had built a sprawling complex of large timber stands, saw mills, wood laminating plants and one of the Northwest's largest construction companies.
The President of Wakefield Industries was a powerful man, known for his calculating, merciless business acumen. Derek knew that he wasn't happy about the fact that his no good son was soon to inherit one-third of the family owned stock. Maybe his father was afraid that Derek would try to ruin the business. Afraid? His father?
Derek let out a sigh of pent-up tension and fumbled in his shirt pocket for one of the joints he had rolled before leaving Sue's place. The secretary was still busy at her typewriter. He lit the joint and sucked the smoke deep into his lungs. Why didn't he tell the old man to take a flying leap? Because he couldn't take that number. It was easier to stay out of the way and wait.
"Mr. Wakefield will see you now," the secretary said, breaking into his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yeah." Christ, what a scene. He had to have an appointment to see his own father. Carefully he buried the extinguished roach deep in the sand of the ash tray.
Crossing to the large double doors, Derek stopped, wiped his sweaty palms on his pant legs, knocked and entered. His father, who was speaking on the telephone, ignored him. Derek had been in this office only a couple times before, once when the building was just finished, and the last time about a year ago.
Each time, he was impressed. The office was huge with gold carpeting, rosewood paneling; black leather couches and chairs; an oval coffee table of glass and chrome, a large drafting table, and, dominating one half of the room, a monstrous L-shaped desk-his father's desk.
"Sit down, Derek," his father ordered, hanging up the phone. Derek sat in a nearby chair. "Your entire behavior displeases me," Wakefield said, without preamble. "I have spent years building a thriving business just so you could enjoy the creature comforts you've come to expect. And what do you do? Continually muddy the Wakefield name."
Derek sat passive.
"At no little expense, I have had the charge against you recorded as disturbing the peace. One of my attorneys will appear in court for you and pay the small fine that will be issued. But this kind of publicity I will not tolerate. I'm a respected member of this community and of this state. During recent months a number of important citizens have been urging me to run for governor. They look up to me and feel that I can win." He rose from his desk and came towards Derek.
"I haven't made a decision yet. But I can not have and will not have any adverse publicity. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
It's your ego trip, man. "Yes, sir!"
Cold hatred frosted Wakefield's features. "You're nothing but a ass."
"How can your son be a ass?"
Wakefield glared at Derek. "Don't you try to insult your family name anymore than you already have. What have you been doing for the past six years since high school?"
Slouched in the chair, Derek shrugged. "Trying to get it together."
"Together? Waste it, you mean. Spread it around, scatter it. That's all. Look at this last time: You came limping back home from Los Angeles, wasn't it? Filthv. broke and with such a case of VD it took Dr. Rogers three months to cure it."
"Yeah, well, I was careless."
"Carelessness summarizes your entire life. What about Mary Ann whatever-her-name was? Told me you had married the broad. A lie. Some freaked-out weirdo with flowers and incense whom you had knocked up. Jesus, what a mess! Three colleges you have been thrown out of-three. Are you going to add Oregon to the list? And this stupid pot party. What are you going to do next?"
"Same as always, wait."
Without warning his father backhanded him across the mouth. "You stupid ass. I wish to God I could knock some sense into your head."
An icy chill of terror ran along Derek's spine as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He should hit the old bastard back. Christ, he deserved it. But-all he had to do was wait and in a few short months, the whole world could kiss off.
"Why aren't you out working like I was?" his father demanded. "I earned my money."
"Granddad made this business."
Wakefield came within an inch of slugging Derek a second time. "Do you know how many people worked for us when I became general manager? Do you know? Three hundred, that's how many. And now twenty-five years later, I'm president and chairman of the board and five thousand six hundred thirty people work for Wakefield Industries."
Wakefield turned his back in disgust and returned to his desk in an attitude of dismissal. Derek shrugged his shoulders, wiped the trickle of blood from his chin again and started towards the door.
"Just a minute, Derek. From now on, I'm through with you. I'm not giving you an allowance; you're no longer welcome in my home and I want you to return the Mustang. If all you think you have to do is wait, fine. Then you wait. But I'll be damned if you're going to wait at my expense. Now get out of here!"
The phone rang and Wakefield grabbed it. Derek stood, staring at his father for a long minute. But he had been dismissed and as his father was concerned, he no longer existed. Numbly, Derek left the building.
TENDER LOVING CARE
With the fall of darkness, the rain had slackened, but the heavy clouds still dripped. An icy wind cut right through Derek's light clothing. He wandered aimlessly along the wet sidewalks, moving slowly from one lighted street post to another. Most of the rush hour traffic had escaped the main shopping areas; both the walks and the streets were only sparsely traveled. Derek moved through the rain, alone.
A vast feeling of emptiness and hopelessness so filled him that he had no room for any other emotion or thought. He walked on. Rain plastered his hair to his skull, dripped from his eyebrows and nose and trickled down his neck to soak into his shirt.
He found himself, shivering, on the corner of Fourteenth and West Burnside. The Audi was parked back at his father's building but he couldn't bring himself to return for it. Nor could he work up the courage to go home. His mother would make solicitous sounds but would be unable to modify the expulsion. And his father, if he choose to pay any attention to him at all, would only continue his tyranny. It was a scene he wanted no part of. Yet, knowing that it was denied him, he felt lost.
Sticking his cold hands into his pants pockets in the hopes of warming them, he discovered the key to Sue Westbrook's apartment. He had to get out of the rain.
It was about seven-thirty when he reached the apartment and Sue opened the door on his first knock. "Derek! My god, what has happened to you?"
"I've been walking."
"In the rain?" She shook her head. "Come in and get out those clothes. Listen, go into the bathroom so you don't make a mess all over the floor."
Sue switched on the electric wall heater in the bathroom, but Derek's teeth still chattered as he awkwardly peeled the clinging, wet clothes off. "Here, give those to me." Sue wrung the garments out by hand as best she could and then piled them in the wash basin. At last Derek was naked and she handed him a big towel. "Why you're absolutely blue. Look at yourself."
Derek glanced in the mirror. His lips were blue and his body was gooseflesh all over. He still shivered. "You need a hot bath," Sue said, turning on the faucets in the tub. "Get in and I'll make you some tea."
Derek, shaking uncontrollably, slid into the tub as it continued to fill. Even his cock had shriveled to less than its normal flaccid size. The hot water was almost painful on his skin. He let the water run until it was under his chin. Then, laying back, he tried to relax. The shaking had stopped but his hands and feet still felt cold.
Sue returned with a hot cup of tea. "What on earth have you been up to?" she asked, handing him the mug. His distress had been so acute when he had arrived that she was reluctant to ask even now.
"It's my father. He's being impossible and ridiculous. The man must be insane."
Sue looked quizzical but asked no more questions because she could see that Derek was deeply upset. She had added a little sedative to the tea which she hoped would help. "As soon as you get warm, I'll tuck you into bed. You can spend the night with me, okay?"
"Yeah, thanks."
She leaned over the tub and kissed him. "You want anything to eat."
"No, this is fine."
"Let me know when you're ready to get out."
The tea had a funny, sharp edge to it, but its warmth was welcomed, so Derek drank it. He lulled with his head on the rim of the tub until he dropped off to sleep and his face splashed into the water. He woke with a start and decided that it was time to get out.
Sue heard him and came running with another dry towel.
While he warped himself in that, she took a smaller towel and briskly dried his hair. "There, how do you feel now?" she asked, stepping back to inspect him.
Derek yawned. "Better, thanks."
"You look tired. Come on, let's pop into bed."
While Sue slipped out of her clothes, Derek climbed into bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin. Just as Sue crawled in after him, he sneezed. "Oh no, honey. I hope you're not coming down with a cold." She jumped, naked, out of bed and brought him a kleenex, a half-dozen vitamin C tablets and a glass of water. "Take these, maybe they'll help." Derek did and handed the glass back. "You'd best just go to sleep," she said. "Rest is probably the best cure."
"Well, at least come in here so I can feel your body next to mine," Derek said.
"Okay." They snuggled together, laying on their sides. Sue carressed him with her free hand.
Derek kissed her cheek. "You're nice."
Sue patted his genitals. "You're pretty wonderful yourself." In less than five minutes, Derek was snoozing softly.
Once, Derek woke to find that he had the bed to himself and he thought sunlight was trying to work its way around the drawn window curtains.
When Sue, naked and cold, slid into bed, he stirred a second time. He looked at her out of sleepy, half-opened eyes. "Don't touch me for a minute until I warm up," Sue warned, kissing him quickly. "It's still cold out."
"Why did you go out?"
"I had to, to work."
"Work? What time is it?" Derek asked, sitting up.
"One-fifteen, I'm home on my lunch break."
"Hey, wow! I must have been really out of it last night."
Sue smiled. "You looked like a drowned rat. No, more like a lost puppy. How do you feel now? Any signs of a cold?"
Derek stretched. "No, I don't think so. I suppose I ought to get up." He stood up in the middle of the bed.
"Oh no, you don't. You get right back down here." Her hand caught his cock and using it like a stout leash, she pulled him back under the blankets. "I have plans for you."
His prick began lengthening and hardening under the pressure of her small fingers. "Yeah, like what?" he asked innocently.
"Like singing for your supper. Or, in this case, like humping for your bed." Derek laughed and she squeezed his erect phallus. "Jesus, you get so big and hard, I can't believe it." Lifting the blankets, she marveled at his cock. "What a wonderful thing."
She rolled over on her side and raising one leg, pulled his cock closer and guided it to her yawning cunt. The contact of her soft flesh against his hard meat was electrifying. "Oooh," he moaned. Slowly, he nudged the head of his cock between the fleshy folds. She was dry and tight, so he waited, just popping the head of his cock back and forth between the cunt lips until she lubricated up. His mouth went to hers and they frenched.
As her cunt became more slippery, he thrust his prick deeper, moving slowly yet stroking firmly. She spread her legs more and he scooted down, so he would be at a better angle to drill farther up into her. She sighed her pleasure and he fucked faster, his long cock gliding smoothly in and out. "Oh, you fill me so full," Sue cooed.
"Are you kidding? I'm only half in."
"I know but you're so big and your cock feels so good." Taking care to remain coupled, Sue maneuvered Derek onto his back with herself astride him. "Lie still now and let me do this," she said, slowly moving up and down his long erection. Derek spread his legs a bit farther apart and tucking his hands behind his head, closed his eyes. The tight sheath of Sue's cunt continued to slowly swallow and then equally as slowly extrude his member. On each trip, she descended a little farther and the sensitive tip of his prick invaded a little deeper into her hot, silken tunnel.
The more of his phallus that drilled up into her, the more alive it became, and the more sensitive it grew. Finally her plump buttocks settled firmly on his thighs; she was totally impaled, accepting all of him. "Oh my god," she swallowed. "I swear it causes a lump here in my throat."
By flexing his muscles, Derek could cause his prick to expand just a bit more. Each time he did this Sue moaned. He flexed again and held it, enjoying the tight fit which caused his cock to throb. "Oh, no! I think I'm going to come," Sue cried, wide-eyed with pleasure. Sure enough, her whole body shuddered and her cunt quivered and contracted. A low groan of pure animal pleasure escaped her lips for several seconds as her orgasm peaked and ebbed.
Derek hadn't come and his prick still pulsed with the need. Carefully, keeping his phallus as deeply imbedded as he could, he jockeyed Sue around until she was on her back and he was poised between her legs. "Now, baby, I'm going to fuck you," he promised with passion.
Pushing her legs wide apart, he pulled part way out and then fired his cock home again. Immediately he repeated the action, this time, withdrawing until only the tip of his prick remained between her swollen cunt lips. Then he slammed the entire length of his cock into her in one mighty plunge. "Yes, yes, fuck me," Sue coaxed, her body meeting his every stroke with a violent upward swing of her hips. Derek increased the fury of his plunges, fucking faster as their passions began to boil. The bed groaned and protested beneath their violent actions. Straining, Derek was virtually pummeling her, rocketing towards a crescendo when, suddenly, he shot into her. The searing sensations of the powerful eruption made him cry out loud. Sue's whimpering, quivering responses mingled with his own.
Then they were still and quiet, except for their panting.
After a minute, Sue slipped off the bed and padded into the bathroom. Derek laid on his back, enjoying the play of exhilaration through his body. A good fuck was worth so much!
Sue came out of the bathroom, carefully dressed in her uniform, her hair neat and smooth. Leaning over the bed, she kissed Derek. "You'll be here when I get back, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Maybe we can go out to dinner."
"Good, I'll see you then."
As the door closed behind her, Derek stretched, got up and went into the bathroom to pee. Then he turned on the shower and stepped under the warm spray. He shampooed his hair and scrubbed the rest of his body, ending up with his back to the cascading water and his hands playing with his soapy genitals.
He loved the feel of his cock in his hands. It was such a dense, heavy piece of meat, even when relaxed. Its very texture and structure suggested penetrating power and infinite resilience. Turning, he allowed a little of the spray to wash away the suds. He could feel a slow surge of power as his fingers delicately stroked, closed about and squeezed the smooth round head of the one-eyed giant. The thick foreskin slid forward completely covering the crown, then he retracted it fully so the sharp needles of the shower could play on the swollen glans. High voltage sparks shot through his semi-erect prick and deep into his loins. Moving with infinite slowness, he stroked himself until his cock was marble hard and flushed with crimson.
Shutting off the water, he climbed out of the tub to dry. All the time, he eyed the reflection of his lean, muscular body in the steamy mirror. By periodically flexing the inner muscles of his pelvis, he could keep his prick rock hard and could even cause it to wobble woodenly.
He stood before the larger mirror of the dresser and smiled proudly as the cold air of the bedroom cooled him. The youth he saw was neither as tall nor blonde as he should be, as Derek wished he were. But on the whole, not bad and in one regard, his eyes lingered on the now slumbering giant.
For no apparent reason, except maybe the good sex he had enjoyed, Derek felt almost happy as he pulled on his not so fresh clothes and headed downstairs.
A heavy mantle of gray clouds hung menacingly low over the city. But for the moment, the streets and sidewalks were dry and the air seemed fresh and pleasant against his face as Derek wandered towards Burnside.
The northwest section of Portland had once been the home of many elegant families. Some of their stately old mansions still remained. A somewhat garish and carefree infusion of races, incomes and ages over the years had given the area an international flavor and a Bohemian atmosphere. Some fine restaurants were found here, together with head shops, delicatessens, stores, numerous medical clinics, doctor's offices and even a hospital or two.
Three little, old, white-haired ladies tottered by him, painstakingly dressed in heavy rouge and fashions which had been high thirty years ago. A tall, skinny kid, his long greasy hair pulled into a single pony tail, approached. With him was a short, fuzzy-haired girl. Her feet were bare, despite the cool April weather, and her breasts moved freely under the thin tee shirt she wore. Derek smiled and nodded as the couple passed.
He turned west off Twenty-third onto a shabby, little side-street littered with decaying two and three story Victorians. The ground floor, street-side of one of the old houses had been crudely converted into a tiny head shop.
For the hell of it, Derek pushed open the sticking door and walked into the cluttered, dark cave. The smell of burning incense was so heavy, it nearly choked him. Posters, candles, beads, a few leather goods were scattered about, laying on wooden boxes, hiding the bare walls and hanging from the low ceiling.
A bell, attached to the door, had rattled when Derek pushed his way in and now a small, frail wisp of a girl with long black hair streaming around her shoulders and hiding most of her face, came out of the back of the shop. She clutched a dirty house coat to her thin body. Her bare feet were dirty. Turning her large eyes on Derek, she smiled. "Are you finding what you need?"
"Not exactly," Derek mumbled, pawing among the boxes of incense.
"Hey, I know you," the girl said, coming closer. "Yeah, I do. You're Wakefield, Derek Wakefield. I met you about a year ago at Janice Crowell's party, do you remember?"
Derek hesitated, trying to recall the event. The girl tucked her long hair back behind her ears and smiled again. "Does that help?" she asked.
"Yeah." But he still didn't know her.
"You know why I remember you?" Her eyes ran up and down his body. "Not that you're easy to forget, but I was just reading something about your father or something."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah, what are you doing around here? The last I heard you were going to school, again, in Eugene or someplace like that." She padded behind the make-shift counter, tidying things.
"Yeah, I am."
"You are but you just happened to be in the neighborhood, so you dropped in?" Her big, dark eyes looked up at him, filled with mocking amusement.
"Yeah, well-It's kind of a long story."
"That's too bad," she said as if she suddenly understood everything. "I know what you need." She disappeared behind the beaded curtain which separated the tiny shop from the rest of the house.
Shortly, she poked her head out of the curtain and looked around. Then smiling, she paraded into the room, carrying a small rectangular cube in her palm. "How about this?" She handed the miniature block to Derek.
It was a small chunk of some black, semi-hard substance, wrapped in plastic film. Derek nodded his head, not knowing what else to do. "That's absolutely the best Turkish grade. Ordinarily you couldn't get this type of goods east of Chicago." She beamed proudly.
"Oh, hashish."
"You better believe it, brother. The best."
"Well, I don't have much money for that sort of thing. In fact, I don't have any right now."
The girl padded up and took the hash out of Derek's hand. "Things are that tough, huh?" Derek nodded. "Hey, for you, I'm going to do something special. I'm going to give you a little sample. When you try it, you'll like it and you'll be back. Maybe you can pass the word around, too."
"Thanks, but I couldn't let you do that. That stuff is expensive even for dealers and I wouldn't-"
"You wait right here." She ducked through the rattling curtain again and was back in a flash with a chunk smaller than a bouillon cube.
She forced it into his hand. "I know you capitalists, you got to check the quality for the goods, right? Don't forget where you got that," she called as Derek headed for the door.
"No, I won't."
Emerging from the shop, he noticed that the sky had grown quite dark. He looked at his wrist watch and found that it was after five. Sue would be coming home soon and he realized for the first time in almost twenty-four hours that he was hungry.
He reached the apartment just as Sue was unlocking the door. "Hi." She smiled, bending down to scoop up the afternoon Journal. "What have you been up to?"
"I was just out walking." Derek followed her in and closed the door. "I hope you're hungry because I'm starved. Can we go eat right away?"
"Sure. Let me change out of this uniform and then we're off."
She reappeared in less than ten minutes, dressed in a blue pants-suit and with her long hair let down. "You want to drive some place or walk?"
"I thought we might go to the Meat Market. I past it when I was out walking and it's just a short distance from here."
"Sounds fine to me."
The Meat Market was a new restaurant, constructed of native woods both inside and out, and featured a big stone fireplace and delicious charcoal broiled steaks. They relaxed and lingered over the meal.
Walking home, hand in hand, Sue said, "I forgot to tell you the interesting news. A man came around today asking about you."
"Me?"
"Yeah, he said he was a detective hired by your father. It seems you disappeared and they're out looking for you."
Derek stopped to stare at her. "You're kidding?"
"No. This guy really said that. I didn't say anything because he was talking to Dr. Rogers and I just happened to overhear. Didn't you tell your father you weren't going home?"
"No. We had this big fight and I just started walking and ended up at your place."
"Should I have said something to the detective?"
"No! You did right. I don't understand my father. From what he said yesterday, I'd thought he would be happy if I just dropped dead."
"Well, I won't worry about it," Sue soothed.
Derek squeezed her hand and they walked on. A sudden splattering of fat raindrops made them dash the last half-block to the apartment building. Inside, Sue hung up their coats. "I think I'll make some tea."
"Where do you keep your pipe? I'd like to turn on."
"Oh, it's in my douche bag under the bathroom sink."
Derek laughed and went to retrieve the equipment.
By the time Sue carried in the tray with the tea things, Derek was already ripped. As she sat the tray on the small coffee table, he asked if she wanted a hit. "No, not really. I only smoke once in a great while. I use so little grass that I only have to make a buy once or twice a year."
"Really?" Derek was feeling very drowsy but he finished the pipe.
Sue handed him a cup and sat next to him on the couch. "You really like turning on, don't you?" Increasingly, she was annoyed by his need to be high all the time.
"It's okay." Derek giggled and looked at her. "Fucking is the best trip of all. You know, you're a damn good lay."
Sue forced a smile but her eyes remained sad. She patted his thigh. "You're pretty wonderful, yourself." Derek slumped farther down on the couch, and spreading his legs, moved Sue's hand over, placing it on his crotch. "That's where you belong," he said with his eyes closed.
She squeezed him a couple of times and he swoon with the hot sensations which animated his prick. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he mumbled, rocking his hips against her hand. For a time, he was content with the arrangement. Then he started fumbling with his belt and zipper. "I want to feel you," he said thickly. "I want to feel your fingers on my naked cock."
Sue sighed. "Okay." Brushing his clumsy hands away, she finished unzipping the fly and reached in. Since Derek never wore any shorts, it was relatively easy to extract his long, soft snake.
"Oh, good," he whispered. She wrapped both hands around his organ and he held them in place with his own hands. "Yes. Your hands are cool. And hot. Oh, they feel good." Still guiding her hands, he started them moving up and down. The flaccid, dropping prick slowly transformed itself into a long, thick erection.
"Oh, Derek, you're impossible," Sue said, her face becoming more animated, her eyes starting to shine with excitement. Derek's hands fell away and she stroked faster.
"No, I'm not-" He was swallowing and breathing rapidly. "You've handled me before." The long foreskin swallowed up and then spit out the pulsing crimson crown like the repeated blossoming of a big, red tulip. A thick drop of cloudy fluid oozed out of the slit on the top of the glans and was immediately smeared by the sliding foreskin. Now the head glistened like an enormous blood ruby.
No longer thrusting, Derek lay rigid, moaning. His eyes tightly screwed shut. "Get me off, baby. Please!" he begged. Sue's arm was tiring from the strain of masturbating him. Derek's body grew tauter, his pelvis arching upward like an over-drawn bow. Sue cupped one hand to his balls while the other tripped madly up and down the shaft. Suddenly the prick erupted in her hand. Derek cried. The first glob shot high, then splattered back. Others drenched his trousers and shirt front.
He collapsed sideways on the couch, whimpering to himself. Disgusted, Sue left him there. She washed her hands, dumped the half-cup of cold tea down the drain and returned to pour herself a hot one and to settle into one of the chairs with the evening paper. She glanced at Derek, wishing he would tuck himself back into his pants and get cleaned up. Brooding, she tried to convince herself that Derek wasn't falling into any special pattern. Sighing, she turned her attention to the evening paper.
"Derek? Derek."
"Yeah?"
"Listen to this: "The scion of wealthy industrialist, Richard D. Wakefield is currently being sought. Derek's disappearance was discovered this morning when the car which he had been using was found abandoned a short distance from the Wakefield Building in downtown Portland. The twenty-five year old youth, who is described as five foot ten, one hundred fifty pounds, with curly black hair, had just recently been released from the Eugene City jail on a disturbing the peace charge.
" 'Mr. Wakefield wasn't immediately available for comment and the Portland Police say they have no reason to suspect foul play at this time.'"
Derek jumped up. "Let me see that." When he finished reading the front page article, he was trembling. "Jesus, they act like I'm a criminal. First, my old man and now this. Why are they all ganging up on me?"
"Relax, Derek. I don't think you have anything to worry about. It's just some reporter getting a little cheap mileage out of the Wakefield name."
"That's exactly what my father warned me about. He said he'll kill me. I know it, he'll kill me!" Derek's eyes grew wild with panic. "I have to get out of here. I can't let them find me."
"Are you kidding? You can't go out like that. You're half-undressed and your clothes are a mess. Besides, you're just being silly."
"Silly," he screamed. "Do you call murder silly? You don't know my father. He will literally kill me."
"Derek, stop it this instant! It's just the dope. It's making you feel paranoid."
"Get out of my way!" Derek charged into the bathroom and returned moments later, cleaner if wet.
"I have to get to Eugene to pick up my car," he said. "Will you take me?"
"No." Sue's voice was firm. "It's the pot. Sit down and relax for a minute."
Pacing like a trapped animal, Derek chewed on his thumb. "I'll take the bus. I have the money." He grabbed his coat and started for the door. "No. I can't do that. They'll be watching."
"Who will be watching, for christsake?"
"The police, the detective, maybe even my father; I don't know."
"Will you please sit down for a minute," Sue begged. "There's no time, I have to get out of town. I'll have to use your car."
"Derek, stop and think. Where will you go?"
"I don't know. California, Mexico, maybe. No, the border would be too dangerous."
"Derek, sweetheart, no one's after you. Your imagination is overflowing. Call your father, you'll see."
Derek stared at her in horror. "What are you trying to do, turn me in? Do you think there's a reward?"
Trying to keep her voice under control, Sue said, "Derek, sweetheart, you're being silly. You know I would do anything to help you if you were really in trouble-"
Suddenly the strained expression on Derek's face changed and he swayed as if dizzy. Sue grabbed him, afraid he might collapse. "Sit down, you don't look well."
Meekly, Derek allowed himself to be seated on the couch again. "Can I have something to drink?" His red eyes looked at her blankly. Warming his tea, she handed the cup to him.
As he drank, she sat down next to him. He drained the cup, relaxing some. "Do you feel better now?" she asked.
He nodded and then shook his head, negating his former response. "I don't feel so good. I think I'm going to throw up."
"No, you're not. Here, lay down." She helped him to stretch out on the couch. "You had the same thing I did at the restaurant, so I know it isn't food poisoning. What did you have for lunch?"
Derek's face was slick with a cold sweat. His eyes were closed and he was swallowing repeatedly. "You want to go to the bathroom?" Sue asked. He made no response, but after a couple of minutes, his acute discomfort seemed to pass.
Opening his eyes, he said in a weak voice, "I think that hash must have been bad."
"Hash? Where did you get any hash?"
"When I was out. This afternoon."
It was an effort for Sue to control the sudden rush of anger. Reluctantly, she brushed Derek's hair back off his hot, damp forehead. "You fool. Stay away from that crap. Grass won't hurt you but the rest of it, all those other drugs, are strictly dangerous. I know."
Derek nodded weakly. "I have got to get out of here. Please help me."
"But where are you going to go?"
"Eugene, to get some of my things. Then California, maybe." Looking white and drawn, he levered himself up. "Can I use your car?"
"You're in no shape to drive. A cop would stop you in the first block."
Derek pulled on his coat again. "Please, I've got to go." The wall clock said eight forty-five. Sue sighed. "Okay, if it will make you feel any better. But I'll drive you."
DOWN BUT NOT OUT
The heavy gray clouds with their driving rain transformed the Interstate Five freeway into a black tunnel. Straining to see through the smeared windshield, Sue kept her old Volkswagen buzzing along at a steady sixty miles per hour. Derek had virtually passed out when he had reached the car. Now, he lay with his head against the side window, apparently asleep.
At five to eleven, the freeway finally crossed the McKenzie River and Sue found the exit for Eugene City Center-Mall. "Derek?" She shook his shoulder gently. "Derek? We're here. Where do I go now?"
Groggily, he sat up to direct her to his apartment on West Twelfth.
The tiny apartment was a tall, narrow, cinderblock box with a balcony serving as a second room, the bedroom, and bath. Derek was only semi-conscious. Sue easily persuaded him that a little sleep was a good idea. He was virtually helpless and she had a struggle getting him out of his smelly clothes and into the double bed.
Before slipping out of her own clothes, she called Dr. Rogers' answering service in Portland and left word that she wouldn't be in the next day. Derek was snoring when she crawled in the bed.
Awakening, Sue was surprised to find that she had slept until nearly ten. They had failed to draw the curtains over the rear window. Weak, lemony light filtered in. Sue was crammed into one corner of the bed, while Derek sprawled on his back, breathing heavily through his open mouth.
Moving slowly, she worked herself into a more comfortable position, one from which she could watch Derek as he lay sleeping. With his black curls tumbling over his forehead, the sheet drawn up under his chin and with his face all relaxed in sleep, he looked very young, almost like a child tucked in its crib.
Midway down the bed, however, the blankets peaked in a small tent, the results of his morning erection. No, he was no child. At least, not physically. Sighing, Sue laid back. She would stay with him through the weekend, if she could keep him here. After that, she didn't know.
Derek stirred. His hazel eyes opened and focused on her. He smiled and rolled over next to her, his erection getting in the way. "Hi," he mumbled, his voice deep and thick with sleep.
"Morning," she whispered, her hand playing momentarily in his tight curls. For several more minutes, he cuddled close, his eyes shut, his breathing still slow. Whenever she moved, her right breast would brush against the full lips of his relaxed, half-open mouth. Finally his eyes fluttered open again and he caught her nipple between his lips and sucked.
"You're a little big for that sort of thing, aren't you?" Sue teased.
"God, I hope not." Rolling onto his back again, Derek kicked the blankets off so he could stretch. The muscles of his lean body flexed and bulged; his erect prick waved stiffly, a bold banner to his youth and sex.
Coming on to his side once more, he ran a hand along the smooth curves of Sue's nude body. "You know, you're a beautiful thing to wake up to."
Sue smiled. "Are you feeling better this morning?"
"Yeah." He cupped one of her softly sagging tits. "Last night seems kind of mixed up and hazy. I guess I was kind of out of it."
Sue's lips met his; she kissed him gently. When her lips moved away, he followed, pursing his own to catch hers again. Hers separated and his tongue darted into her mouth. Pressing his mouth to hers, his hands slipped over her plump body, caressing it and pulling it closer.
Easing her onto her back, Derek moved on top. With his big cock trapped between their bodies, he continued to french her, rocking his hips so that the base of his thick shaft ground against the swell of her pelvis. Then he slid down between her legs, his tongue and lips leaving a hot, damp trail from her mouth, down her neck and across her chest to each pale pink nipple. He licked and sucked them until they contracted to hard little points.
They were both breathing harder now and when Derek's tongue tickled its way down her stomach to the dense little jungle of dark pubic hair, she groaned. As the tip of his tongue flicked along her slot, she started rocking her hips, thrusting her pelvis upward, forcing his tongue to sink between the swelling folds. The musky odor of her sex was not all together pleasant but Derek continued to tongue her until her cunt was damp and she was writhing excitedly.
Putting her legs over his shoulders, he jockeyed around until the tip of his phallus brushed against her kinky bush. "Now, baby, I'm going to make the sun come up." With a strong thrust, he shoved his hard prick fully up into her.
"Aaahh!" she cried. Her cunt was an easier fit this morning. Perhaps it was still relaxed from the night's sleep. He held his flat pelvis tight against her, enjoying the sensation of warm life around his impaled organ. He could feel the cunt quivering.
Abruptly, he thrust hard, breaking into a fast fuck. The position they were in allowed for complete freedom of movement on his part, so he poured the speed on. His cock pumped through the slipeery cunt. The quivering quickened causing Sue to pant rapidly.
The delicate friction of yielding female flesh ignited wild sensations in his cock, energizing and thrilling him. He gasped, sweated and fucked faster. The flow of hot pleasure rippled through his body and he slowed to savor longer plunges.
"Faster, Derek, faster!" Sue's hands clutched and squeezed his upper arms. Her eyes were closed; her lips parted in a panting smile. Her face was bathed in the growing flush of sexual excitement. It would have been too selfish not to give her what she wanted. So he throw the meat to her, redoubling his efforts until his lean, muscular haunches were slamming back and forth like a jackhammer, his hard cock a welcomed drill.
With a shuddering groan, her dark eyes snapped open, alive with dancing points of fire. Her hands pawed the sheets, seeking a grip. Derek continued to serve her through the throes of her climax. As the tension exploded and then eased out of her body, he slowed until his cock was barely gliding in and out.
She dropped her legs to the bed, smiled and pulled him tightly to her body. They lay very still, locked in a snug mutual embrace. His prick rammed fully inside of her, was still rock hard and throbbing. After a minute, she released him. He did not pull out. "You didn't come?" she asked.
"Not yet. You were too fast."
"Yes." She smiled dreamily. "It happens much easier in the morning. And you seem to be slower."
"I guess I wasn't fully awake." He rocked his hips gently from side to side and then pulled part way out to let his cock slip slowly back in.
"Oh, that's nice. Do you think you can do that. Fuck nice and slow and still come?"
"I don't know. Let's find out." He moved easily, coaxing his long rod out and then, centimeter by centimeter, forcing it back in. It was a strain, moving that slowly. But the super-slippery silk soon had his prick engorged to an explosive size, the pressure flamed in his loins and his nuts began to cramp under the stress.
Just as he was about to throw caution to the winds and really grind into her, Sue complained that his cock was rubbing her raw. "Oh, baby, I have to come," Derek pleaded.
"Okay, but try not to hurt me." She clamped her jaws together and tensed her body. He pulled out until just a little better than the head of his cock remained buried. Then working with short, quick, little strokes, he fired it back and forth between the puffy, red cunt lips. Less than twenty seconds of the rapid-fire motions triggered a powerful shuddering deep in his loins and he began to come. He tried to keep to his mini-fucking, but in his intense excitement, his cock slipped out of the wet, loose cunt.
He arched and Sue grabbed the swollen, purple phallus and jerked him off. He spasmed and squirted. "Oh yes! Come, lover, come!" Sue cried, her hands wild as she masturbated him. Groaning, he squirted again and again. Each time the milky spray splashed on her naked torso, she squealed and stroked him faster. He spasmed twice more, but this time only a small amount of semen oozed forth, so she released him.
"You lay here while I bathe and then while I'm fixing breakfast, you can shower." Derek nodded in agreement as she got up.
He tucked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. His prick, losing its hardness, slumped across his flat abdomen, a cold, sticky, shriveling mass. Derek sighed, realizing that he couldn't remain in his apartment. He would have to get away from any place his father was likely to know about. It would be nice if Sue would come with him. He had five thousand dollars in his checking account which would keep them for a while. He would ask her at breakfast.
"Well?" Derek stared across the breakfast table at Sue. "Do you want to come."
"You know I do."
"But."
"But I can'. "
"Why?"
"Because it won't work out. You're not interested in any long term relationships. You'll tire of me and want someone else. And I have a job that I need. I can't leave it."
"You don't like me, is that it?"
"Now, Derek, don't be crude. That's a cheap tactic. You know I'm very fond of you. Ours just wasn't meant to be a permanent relationship."
"I would like to have you with me. It would make it so much nicer."
Sue, looking matronly, patted his out-stretched hand. "That's it, Derek. That's exactly it. You want me along just for your pleasure. No, don't get angry. I enjoy being with you. I know what you want and it gives us both pleasure. But some other girl would do just as well. A dog will relieve himself by the nearest tree."
"Now, who's being crude?" Derek glared at her hotly.
"I'm sorry. That was crude. I didn't mean it as an insult. I just wanted to illustrate the fact that you're not mature yet. You're just not very knowledgeable in these matters.
"Right now you think you have to flee for your life because of your father. That's just not true. He might be angry, but that's to be expected. Experience, that's what you need."
"I've had plenty of experience."
"I don't mean sexually, Derek. I mean in living. For years, you've been avoiding that, just waiting on the side lines."
Derek sat mutely, staring at the fork he was fidgeting with. Rising, Sue began to clear the table. "That's it?" Derek asked. "That's all you have to say?"
"What more is there to say? You want some advice? Spend some time-I don't mean an hour, I mean a day or two-thinking. Think this matter through thoroughly. Then call your father and discuss it with him. I'm sure you'll find him very reasonable."
Derek said nothing. He went into the living room area, picked up a copy of Playboy and pretended to read it. Sue set about doing the dishes and cleaning the tiny kitchen.
When she had finished, Derek stood up as she came into the room. He kissed her. "I'll tell you what, let's go to the mall and do some shopping. You can buy whatever you need for the trip. I'll pay."
Sue sighed. "Derek, you don't understand. If I could go with you, I'd go. You wouldn't have to give me anything."
Derek chewed on his lower lips for a moment. He had seen his father use this tactic on his mother and use it successfully. Whenever his mother had a complaint, his father let her have her say and then bribed her into following his advice with some extra spending money. "Let's go downtown anyway," he said. "I'd still like to buy you something."
"That's not necessary," Sue said softly.
"I know, but I'd like to just the same."
The city of Eugene had closed off several of its main streets, transforming them into pedestrian malls with the addition of shrubs, young trees, interesting wooden structures and strategically placed cascading fountains. The effect was most pleasant and relaxing, an quiet oasis in the middle of Oregon's second largest city.
The shopping center seemed to be having the desired effect on Sue. She walked peacefully along, hand in hand, with Derek. They stopped in front of a lady's fashion store so she could examine a dress which had caught her attention. The garment was designed along the lines of a peasant's dress with a scooped neck, fitted bodice, elastic mid-section and a full yet short skirt. "Why don't we go in and see if they have your size," Derek suggested.
The clerk immediately pulled out a 16 in white with thin green strips. "Oh, it is nice looking, isn't it?" Sue asked.
Derek nodded. "Very attractive. I'd like to see you in it. Why don't you try it on?"
Somewhat hesitantly she agreed. When she emerged from the dressing booth, she did look very stylish. The dress emphasized her full figure, playing up her big breasts and minimizing her chubby tummy. "Hey, I really like that. Let's take it," Derek said.
Sue pivoted around in front of the mirrors one more time. "Okay, but I'm paying for it."
Derek said nothing, but when it came time for payment, he handed the clerk the cash and Sue didn't object. On the way out, he spotted a macram� belt which matched the green stripping in the new dress. He insisted on buy it.
They wandered along the mall, saying very little until they found a small cafe. During the meal, Sue often fell silent for long periods of time, her eyes growing blank as if she had withdrawn to consider some knotty problem. Derek, pretending he didn't notice, tried to eat his meal normally.
After lunch they stopped in a branch of Derek's bank so he could cash a check for two hundred fifty dollars. "Just in case," he said.
At a shoe store, Derek pointed out a matched set of white sandals and small purse which would be ideal with Sue's new dress. "All right, Derek. But that's it. I won't let you buy me another thing," she protested.
When they left the store, Derek squeezed her hand and lead her back to the parking lot where they had left his yellow Mustang sports roof.
FIRST CLASS, ONE WAY
Once behind the closed door of his apartment, Derek took the packages from Sue's arms and placed them on the couch. Then he wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight while they kissed. His prick stirred immediately, forcing its way down one pants leg. He pressed his crotch against hers.
Sue pushed him away. "Oh, Derek, your tactics aren't fair. But I still haven't changed my mind. You don't really know what you are up to."
"I do too."
"How could you? You haven't spent five consecutive minutes thinking about it."
Derek dropped onto the couch. "Okay, but neither have you. You never even considered my suggestion. You just said right off the top of your head, 'I can't go.' Bang. You didn't even think about it, did you?"
"I didn't have to."
"But I do, is that it? Don't you think to be really fair and honest with yourself you should at least consider my proposal?"
Sue stood mutely in the center of the small room, the weak afternoon sun washing over the lower half of her body.
Derek continued: "Listen, I don't feel safe here. Dad or his men could break in at any moment. But I agree with you, I do need some time to think. Let's drive over to Sun River Lodge for the weekend. If we leave now, we can get there before it's dark. Then well have all day Saturday and most of Sunday just to relax and think."
"That's over by Bend, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's a beautiful resort. Have you ever been there?"
"No, but-" She trailed off. She glared at him hard. "You're a calculating little bastard," she hissed. Waving at the packages, she said, "Don't kid yourself. I know what you're trying to do."
"Come on, what have you got to lose? At least, we'll have the weekend together."
"You're really very unfair," she sighed. "You know that, don't you?"
Derek pulled her down beside him and held her very close.
Before leaving, Derek phoned the lodge to obtain a late arrival for that evening and confirmed reservations for Saturday night. He got some clothes and threw them in a carry-on flight bag.
"You don't have a swimming suit, do you?" he asked. "Not with me."
"Okay, we'll stop at Meier and Franks and you can get whatever you need. You've got to have a swimming suit and makeup, etcetera."
Sue gave a tight smile. "Yeah, I suppose."
Traffic wasn't too heavy despite the near rush hour. They followed Franklin out to the adjoining town of Springfield and then continued east on highway 126. The clouds grew heavier and lower as they climbed towards the Cascade Mountains, yet the rain held off and the road remained dry.
The direct route over the five thousand foot McKenzie Pass of highway 242 was still blockaded by the winter snows, forcing them to stay on highway 126. Derek had expected this, however, and he didn't mind the extra thirty miles. In the mountains now, rain began to fall. With the rain came an early darkness which hid the impressive stands of ponderosa pines and the occasional views of the snow-capped peaks of Jefferson, Washington and the Three Sisters Mountains.
They crossed the lower Santiam Pass and evidence of the change in the climate immediately became noticeable. The rain slacked and the clouds thinned and lifted. For the most part, central Oregon was a vast volcanic plateau with a minimum elevation of 3,500 feet. Despite its height, the area was hot and dry, receiving 320 days of sun annually and less than 12 inches of rain.
Sue, exhausted from the poor rest she had had the previous night and the emotional strain of the situation, dozed. Derek barely slowed for the tiny village of Sisters as he arrowed the powerful Mustang into the clearing night air. His destination, Sunriver, was less than thirty minutes away, some fifteen miles south of the city of Bend, Oregon.
Easing off on the foot throttle, Derek allowed the Mustang to coast, watching the speedometer needle drop from eighty-five to forty. He turned on the right turn signal and braked to make the exit from highway 97. Eight minutes later, his headlights momentarily splashed on Sunriver's star burst insignia with its bilaterally symmetrical SR as he turned into the entrance of the planned community.
A peaceful night had settled and the rain freshened pines were sweetly fragrant as he pulled up in front of the large, magnificent lodge. like the rest of the resort city, the lodge, reflecting a unique combination of Northwest and Oriental design with its soaring roof lines, contemporary blend of rugged natural stone and warm Pacific Northwest woods, added to the natural, quiet beauty of the land. By rigid design all man-made alterations to the area had to harmonize with the environment.
Sue stirred and sat up. "Are we here?"
"Yes. I'm going to register. Do you want something to eat?"
"Hmm."
"Okay, come along. We'll sign in, get something to eat in the coffee shop and then go to our room." Derek yawned involuntarily. "It's not that late, but I'm kind of tired myself."
As they headed up the steps into the lodge, Sue agreed. "Last night wasn't too restful."
"I guess not."
Derek told the clerk, a young, attractive brunette, that he had a reservation with a guaranteed late arrival.
"Oh?" She checked through a small file on the counter. "That was Wakefield?"
"Yes."
"When did you make the reservation?"
"Earlier this afternoon. I called from Eugene."
"Hmmm." She didn't seem to be finding what she was looking for. For a second time, she began sorting the papers which littered the counter top.
"Oh great," she said, sliding a sheet of note paper across the counter for Derek's inspection. "See this? Some one made a note of your call but failed to follow it up."
"Does that mean you don't have a room?" Derek's voice betrayed his growing irritation.
The clerk looked up, her dark eyes darting nervously. "I'm sorry for the mix-up. We are pretty well booked, but I'm sure I can find something."
She went back to her file and then consulted a big slanting board. "Yes, here's one. This party hasn't shown up and it's well pass the six o'clock hold time." The girl glanced at Sue. "And it's one of our units with a king-size bed."
Nodding, Derek filled in the registration form and the clerk handed him the keys to room 127. After carefully tracing the most direct route to their unit on a small map of the 5,500 acre campus, she also handed this to Derek. He thanked her and shepherded a sleepy-eyed Sue up the half-flight of stairs towards the coffee shop.
The guest rooms were actually part of condominiums. They were available as a bedroom unit, such as Derek's, all the way up to a three bedroom, three bath suite with kitchen, living and dining rooms. All bedrooms featured fireplaces, color TV and custom designed furniture. Some, like this one, sported a king-sized bed. Sue sighed deeply at the sight of the bed and immediately curled up on one corner.
"Come on, sweets, take your clothes off and let's get in," suggested Derek. With his help, she barely managed. Her pale, naked body looked small as she crawled into the big bed. Derek pulled the covers over her and stripped off his own clothes.
His prick was already semi-erect as he slid in next to her. Soft snores greeted his tender kisses. She must have fallen asleep the instant her head touched the pillow. Groaning, Derek moved back over to his side of the bed. There, he built a joint and smoked it before switching off the reading lamp which illuminated his half of the bed.
When he stirred, he was aware of a little light leaking in around the heavy drapes which hid the end wall of glass. Yawning and stretching, he glanced at his diver's watch. The hour was approaching nine.
Aroused by his movements, Sue, still more asleep than awake, cuddled closer, fitting the front of her warm body against Derek's back as he laid on his side. "Hi," he said.
"Morning," she mumbled. Looking over his shoulder, Derek found himself staring right into her deep brown eyes. She smiled. He smiled and reached around to pat her flank. As she nibbled at his ear lobe, one hand tickled its way over his ribs to search its way down to his relaxed sex organs. "Hmm, that feels good," she said, cupping his genitals. "I think you must have gotten a double helping." She grasped his soft prick and squeezed it repeatedly. As the cock swelled in her hand, she began to stroke its growing length.
Derek rolled towards her; the big, soft bubbles of her breasts brushed against his skin as he moved to pull her into his arms. Their lips met and their excitement grew. They frenched, their mouths hard against one another and their tongues passionately engaged until they were forced to surface for deep breaths of air.
Throwing the blankets off the huge bed, Sue stretched out, her knees slightly lifted and her legs splayed. The normally thin, pale brown inner lips of her cunt were already swollen and pulsing a dark red. "Oh, Derek, fuck me hard and make me come quickly. Please!"
Smiling, Derek slid between her legs and guided his erection to her opening. Slowly, teasingly, he pushed the tip of it in, centimeter by centimeter, taking his time to enjoy the sight of the splaying penetration. Sue's hands clutched at him, trying to force him to move more quickly. Once he had wedge the broad head of his prick past the inner lips, he quickly pulled it out and then slammed the entire length of his mighty spear inside her.
She squealed, arching her hips up in an attempt to ease the sudden penetration. Then the cock was coming and going; one instant she was hotly stuffed and the next coldly empty. Each time Derek rammed the hard rubber piston in, he made a little grunt. And each time he withdrew to ream her again, she enjoyed the play of muscles along his lean body. The ramrodding prick sparked a surge of sizzling sensations with each dive. "Yeah, yeah," she whispered, swinging her hips up to meet his driving plunges. A tiny ball of hot energy gathered in her loins and expanded with each thrust. It was like a rampaging river battering a dam.
Straining she tried to drain some of the intense pressure away, Nothing else existed. Even with her eyes closed, she could see-feel the beautiful male body, glistening with sweat, moving with an athletic grace between her legs. She could hear his hot breath in her ear; she could feel the bucking of his oiled haunches in her hands, her whole body tingled with the electrifying sensations of his hard prick gliding through her.
Without warning, the dam shattered; she trembled under the powerful torrents which ripped through her helpless body. Wave after shuddering wave burst from her loins. The ecstasy washed out from her exploding loins like the radiating ripples on disturbed water.
The currents slackened, then slowly ebbed and swirled. Only the slow trudge, like the beating of a single big breaker against a rock, remained. Then this repeated invasion stopped, too; Derek had stopped thrusting. Her body cooled, her pulsing passion quieted. Blinking, she opened her eyes. Derek's handsome face hovered above her, looking every bit like a Greek sculpture, right down to the black curls and the full lips. Tiny beads of sweat fringed his upper lip and glossed his smooth forehead. Deep inside her where the fires of lust had cooled to ash, she became aware of his giant prick, still solid and throbbing with each beat of his racing heart.
"Oh, that was nice," she sighed. "Perhaps, a bit too soon for you?"
Derek smiled. "I'm slow in the morning, but later you can make it up to me."
"I will." She kissed his damp cheek. Half-sitting up, she watched as he slowly pulled out. The hard phallus gleamed like wet marble, shiny from her lubrication. The skin on the bulging shaft was taut, ridged with large blue and purple veins. As the last two and one-half inches pulled free of her cunt, the thick, dark flesh of the foreskin crept forward, slowly swallowing the bright plum of his glans. The prepuce was long and eventually came all the way over the head to form a short nozzle, even though the prick was still fully erect.
She grasped the hard cock and squeezed it as it remained just above her body. "It really is a work of art," she said.
Standing beside the bed, Derek asked if she wanted to shower first. The sight of him standing there, naked, with his husky sex organs fully aroused, seemed all wrong. He should be moving, thrusting, fucking, working off his passion. "No," she said, "you go ahead. I want to lie here for awhile and just-well, just relax."
Derek patted her thigh. "Okay."
When he came into the room again, looking scrubbed and healthy, to finish drying himself before the vanity's mirror and basin, she reluctantly got up. The tub was only three-quarter sized, yet she filled it with steaming hot water and eased herself in for a ten minute soak.
Emerging from the bath, she found Derek, his graceful, naked body silhouetted by a flood of bright sunlight, standing before the undraped glass wall. Out across the green meadows, golfers swarmed over the 18 hole course. "Come away from there, Derek. Someone will see you." She tucked the bath towel around herself, fastening it up under one arm.
"So what?" he asked with sincerity.
"Well-it's not polite to make other people jealous. Just think of all those fat, saggy middle-aged men. You'll demoralize them." The moisture from her bath had made her hair unruly, but slowly she was subduing it into a presentable style.
Derek came away from the windows and stood for a moment near the end of the bed, his lips pursued, reflecting. "I think clothes ought to be outlawed in nice weather. Why should I have to cover my body if I don't want to? Can you imagine what a fantastic, fun place this would be if we could run around naked?"
She glanced sideways at him as she put the finishing touches on her hair. His supple body reminded her of that of a healthy young animal. Her own fat body did not please her. She would love to see him gamboling free and naked in this beautiful setting, but not herself. "If everyone was as pretty as you, they'd probably agree with you."
Derek flopped down on the bed, his legs spread and his hands tucked behind his head. Sue sighed as she realized that her present situation was too good to last. Her Cinderella dream would soon be coming to an end. The thought saddened her, yet she accepted it as being inevitable. She would enjoy what she could and try to let it go at that.
"Shall we dress and have breakfast?" she suggested. Derek nodded in agreement.
Bright sunlight made the countryside sparkle. Sue inhaled the fresh air and took Derek's hand as they set off for the main lodge. Scattered among the young ponderosa forest were the numerous guest lodges, condominiums, private residences and a full spectrum of recreational facilities. All the structures blended harmoniously with the peaceful setting.
The wait for a table was less than ten minutes, despite the length of the queue at the entrance to the coffee shop. Ten o'clock was a popular breakfast time for a number of the guests.
Sue was more aware of her surroundings this time, of the warm woods and the unique hanging clay chandelier. The place mat was a map of the community which proclaimed itself the "resort for all seasons." They were sitting next to the windows, looking across the balcony to the golf course, the air field with its lines of private planes and beyond to the stables and marina on the icy Deschutes River and the dark green backdrop of hills and mountains. Above soared the peak of Mt. Bachelor, a popular skiing area, just a few minutes' drive from Sunriver.
Impressed with the richness and beauty, she said, "This is a marvelous spot."
Derek beamed. "I knew you would like it. After we eat, we can rent some bikes and ride around."
"I'd like that."
The serene countryside offered something that Derek had almost forgotten: clean, clear air. Free from the cloaking, choking smog, the sky was a fragile glue. The powerful rays of the bright sun warmed the air. As they rode along the curving, paved bike paths, Derek grew damp with sweat. Not quite noon, the temperature must have been close to 80 already. The sweet, pungent scent of pine and juniper wafted upward with the heat.
Sue rode along with a smile. She pointed out a prairie dog and the ducks near the edge of the marshy lake. Derek was feeling less paranoid, yet a restlessness still stirred in his blood. Sun-river was a beautiful, quiet spot, one which could make a person forget the 'real' world. How easy it would be to simply stay here. By the time he had tired of the hot, dry weather of summer, autumn would cool the desert and soon, the high country would sparkle with the first snowfall. He had often thought about learning to ski. Certainly here, he would have an excellent opportunity. It was a great dream-
"Derek? Derek?"
"Huh?"
"I said, I'm getting hot. Should we go back?"
He looked at her flush, round face and her full figure, thinking of sex. "Yeah, okay."
On the way back, they passed a couple, dressed in whites, carrying their tennis rackets. "Do you play tennis?" Derek asked.
"No."
"We could rent some equipment and I could teach you," he suggested.
She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, but the heat seems to be making me sick. I think I'll have to lie down for awhile."
By the time they reached the room, Sue looked drawn and pale. Dark circles were forming under her eyes and she collapsed across the king-size bed. "Oh, Derek, I'm sorry."
Bending over, he kissed her sweaty brow. "You can't help it." He playfully fondled one of her breasts.
"Carefully," she cried. "Maybe, that's it." She squeezed and massaged her breasts. "They're both tender. I bet I'm starting my period. It always makes me feel crampy. Oh, shit! I don't have any tampons. Is there anyplace where we can buy some?"
"Yeah, there's the store, the country store, they call it. We can get some there."
"Would you mind? I don't think I feel up to going out just now."
Derek sighed deeply. "Okay." She told him the brand and he rode his bike down and back.
He threw the small package on the bed next to the prone girl. She hadn't moved while he had been gone. He started stripping off his sweaty clothes. "Jesus," he said, "it's really hot out there."
"Why don't you take a quick shower and cool off."
Naked, he eyed her and felt his prick uncoiling. "Okay."
She had gotten out of her clothes and slipped under the sheet, having thrown the other blankets to the floor. Dropping the towel, Derek laid on top of the sheet, next to her. "I don't suppose you feel like fucking?" he asked.
"Not right now."
"Yeah, it figures." He rolled off his elbow onto his back, tucking his hands behind his head.
Sue's hand came out from under the sheet and a cool finger began tracing the outline of his pectoral muscles. "You have a beautiful body," she soothed.
Derek said nothing and stared moodily at the ceiling. Her finger tip circled his nipples, causing a little spark of excitement. She ran her fingers lightly down his ribs, tickling him. He flexed involuntarily, his abdomen rippling into a washboard of lean muscle. "Ooo, nice," she said.
"Stop that! I don't like it," ordered Derek.
Leaning over, she tongued a nipple. "You really do remind me of a Greek statute." Using the flat of her hand, she massaged him from nipples, right down the center of his torso to the base of his erecting prick. "Your body is so chiseled and clean-looking, like marble. You know, you hardly have any body hair. Except for a little bit under the arms and this tiny tuft right here." She pulled playfully at the kinky, black pubic hair. "I like that. I hate guys who look like bears."
Derek said nothing, but spread his legs. Her hand crept down to cup his balls. He pulled a pillow down to prop his head up so he could watch. Big and hard, his prick angled stiffly up from his flat belly. When he was thoroughly excited, like this, his cock stood almost vertical when he was on his feet.
Sue climbed out from under the sheet and curled next to his hip, her hands and now her lips lightly touching, gently caressing his phallus. She grasped the base, her hand too small to completely encircle the shaft's full girth. Keeping her tongue broad, flat and wet, she lapped at his cock, starting at the base and licking upward towards the tip. She did this all the way around, the best she could from her present position.
She had her eyes closed, but Derek was totally fascinated. Sex was even better when he could watch, when he could see his hard cock wedging between some girl's fleshy cunt lips or when he could watch some girl suck his glans into her warm, damp mouth as Sue was doing now. He panted through a slack mouth.
For a moment, she sucked on the fleshy nozzle of his foreskin as if it were a drinking straw. Then the hard tip of her tongue forced its way inside to swirl over the top of his sensitive head. Changing her grip on his column, she stroked him a couple of times; then she skinned the foreskin back and held it down, revealing the shiny head of his prick. The sight of it, the purple glans and the husky rod of his tall erection, thrilled him almost as much as the girl's manipulations.
She licked the head, wetting it thoroughly; ran her tongue around the flared edges, caressing the most sensitive zones. Pursing her lips, she sucked the tip into the dark cavity of her mouth.
Derek began to clench the muscles of his buttocks, causing his pelvis to thrust upward slightly. His heart was pounding and the congestion in his loins was beginning to glow with a white-hot urgency. Sue worked faster. She sucked more strongly and her hand at the base of his prick frisked up and down in tiny, little milking motions.
Derek clawed at the sheet, wadding it into his clenched fists. He bucked faster and faster, tensing his body and screwing his eyes shut in an effort to hold off the orgasm for one more deliriously excruciating second. Suddenly he shuddered and shot off.
His hands flew to Sue's head, forcing her to stay, to accept his gushing come. Her face, with its eyes clamped shut, was a grimace but she continued to milk and suck him. Groaning loudly, Derek thrust his prick far down her throat and held it there while he sprayed a final time. She gagged, choked and half-retched, squirming out of his grip.
A moving shadow drew his attention out the window to a tall, blonde man who was stepping back away from the edge of their room's railed porch. Derek wondered how long the man had stood there, watching through the uncurtained windows.
Sue had staggered to her feet and rushed to the sink in the vanity area to spit and rinse her mouth out. When she came back, still clutching the towel to her wet face, she said, "I don't think that last bit was necessary, Derek."
"I'm sorry," he said, trying to sound sincere. "I guess I just got carried away."
She eyed him, looking distraught and sick. Derek got up. "Look, I am sorry. Come on, I'll tuck you in, pull the drapes and let you rest, okay?"
Cooing and clucking, he got her into bed and pulled the curtain, casting the room into a dim light. "I think I'll go over for a swim. Do you mind being left alone?"
"No," she mumbled. "Go ahead." She was already half-asleep.
Derek pulled on his brown leather shorts, a gold tank top and his sandals. Rolling up his swim suit in a towel, he quietly went out the door.
Leaving the bike at the room he walked along the red pumice paths which wounded through the shrubs and ponderosa pines. Despite the heat, there were scores of people out, playing golf, tennis and cycling. Catching a glimpse of the twin pools through the tall enclosing wooden fences, Derek saw the expected crowd, noisy with water fights, dives and splashes.
Derek gave his name and showed his room key to the woman behind the glass fronted office. She motioned him towards the left door marked men.
The dressing room was surprisingly small considering the 1500 guest capacity of the lodges plus a growing number of permanent residents. A half-dozen blue benches and a few lockers were the sole decorations for the changing area. The lavoratories were in a separate little alcove and next to that of the showers. On the walls, signs warned that a cleansing bath was required before entering the pools.
A couple of men were under the showers; an ancient, overweight man was dressing painfully slow and two boys, about ten, whispered together while changing into their swim suits.
Derek selected a locker and stripped off his garments. The two small boys sneaked a glance at him and fell silent as if awestruck. Derek couldn't repress the grin that came to his lips. It wasn't unusual under conditions such as these for strangers to give him a second and sometimes, even a third glance. While he wasn't usually self-conscious about his nudity, sometimes he did get uptight when he saw the disdain that registered, particularly, on the faces of older men. Just jealous, he thought, remembering what Sue had said earlier.
Closing the locker, he noticed a tall blonde man enter the locker room. He was about six foot one, one hundred ninety pounds and had the same long, straight sandy blonde hair and mustache as the man who had been outside his room. The stranger stared fixedly at Derek's nakedness and a slow smile brightened his young yet sullen face as if he, too, was remembering the earlier episode. He started towards Derek as if to speak, but Derek jerked on his Speedo swim suit and ducked into the running showers briefly on his way to the pools.
Garrett Justin ran a hand through his long blonde hair, trying to guess the reasons behind the behavior of his contact. True, the first time he had unknowingly picked the wrong moment to go across the porch to room 127. But how the hell was he to know that the contact had brought a girl? The last man had been a paunchy, middle-aged salesman who was in and out within an hour.
But this new kid, this young stud-Garrett wondered briefly if Mr. Shearer, his employer, would want to add this guy to his stable. He knew Shearer would if he could see him.
As Garrett changed into his swim suit, he considered another reason for his contact's behavior. Perhaps, he was trying to tell Garrett that the Narcs were in the area. Garrett looked at the people in the dressing room. Surely, no one here could be an agent, unless the government was hiring people under ten and over seventy. He shook his head and trudged out to the pool area to see what would happen there.
A fair breeze swooped through the concrete and stone, geometric-shaped concave which cupped the two swimming pools, chilling Derek's wet body. He trotted down to the diving board and jackknifed in. The water was heated, but no as warmly as he had expected. Still, it was pleasant enough with the bright spring sun burning down from overhead. Two or three hundred people filled the area with about a quarter of that number actually in the water. The others lay sunning themselves or playing on the volley ball courts. Even so, his attempts to do a fast lap or two were interrupted by constant roadblocks. So, he lolled on his back and watched the door of the dressing room.
Shortly, the young blonde guy came out and stood for a long time surveying the enclosure. If he saw Derek in the water, he gave no indication. Yet when he walked down to the pool's edge, he ended up very near where Derek stood. Derek couldn't decide whether this guy was following him or not. And if he was, why?
The blonde lounged on one of the slanting concrete slabs which made up the vast concave. His skin was such a deep brown that it seemed to imply the man wasn't a natural blonde. Either that, or he spent most of his time in a tropical climate. Derek was sure he didn't know him and the only other motive he could apply to the stranger's actions didn't exactly please him. It wouldn't be the first time he had been approached by a homosexual, yet the possible confrontation cooled his enthusiasm for the swim. This guy hardly looked gay, but that proved nothing.
Derek worked his way between the pedestal islands and into the larger pool. There he concentrated on swimming for a good twenty minutes. When he finally stopped in the middle of the five foot deep pool for a breather, he was only mildly surprised to see the blonde swimming towards him.
The fellow came to his feet close to Derek, smiled and said, "Hi. Room 127, right? I'm 126."
Derek looked blank.
"That doesn't mean anything to you?" Garrett asked. "Only that you're next door."
"I don't suppose that you're from Portland or that your name is Wildbird."
"Wildbird? Are you kidding?"
The handsome blonde, who looked like a college football player, suddenly laughed. "I bet this whole thing seems pretty silly to you."
"You're damn right," said Derek tightly.
"What you must have thought after my poor timing at your back door and then following you over here." The guy was still greatly amused. He put a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Listen, I'm sorry. I was supposed to meet a man, someone I've never seen before, here. He was to be in room 127 and I was to check into 126. So naturally I just assumed you were he, but you're not, are you?"
"No, I'm not," said Derek, remembering the mix-up in rooms when he had checked in. The clerk had said something about a non-arrival.
"Look, man, it's all been a miserable hassle. I'm sorry for all the cloak and dagger shit. Tell you what, drop by the bar about nine and I'll buy you and the broad a drink. In fact, I'll buy you a couple if you introduce me. She looks like my kind of woman."
A vivid picture of Sue energetically sucking his cock flashed in Derek's mind and he had to admit, it made a pretty outrageous scene. He chuckled.
Garrett was pleased. "I'm glad to see you're a good head. My name is Dan Wilson." He stuck out his hand.
"Hi, Derek Wakefield."
"Be sure to take me up on my offer, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," Derek said.
Garrett swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out.
Even though Dan had laughed the whole thing off as a silly mistake, it didn't add up. Why all the "cloak and dagger shit," as he had called it, in the first place? Why not just a straight forward knock on the front door? Derek stood in the middle of the pool, thinking. Mr. Wilson wasn't all he pretended to be. Or more likely, he was much more. Derek's curiosity had been peaked and he was looking forward to their next meeting later that evening.
Clad only in the brief, tight swim suit which did nothing to hide what it covered, and carrying his clothes, Derek left the pool. Two middle-aged women, chicly dressed in tennis whites, paused in their conversation, their eyes following him as he padded by them and on down the red asphalt pathway. He picked his way carefully for his bare feet were being exposed for the first time that year.
He took the long way back to his room, looping around in front of the great lodge to pause for a few moments while a twin engined Piper took off from the paved runway on the other side of the golf course. Derek had set at the controls of two of the planes that his father's company owned. Each time, he had been thrilled by the complexity and power of the crafts and by the magical sensations of flight. Once his father had even promised to give him flying lessons, but nothing ever came of the empty words.
Still, he thought, maybe when school was finished-suddenly he was struck by tie fact that in his mind, he had already dropped out. He had tried three times. It just wouldn't work. That way of life seemed too regimented and dull. Now, he wanted something exciting, really exciting-like flying.
A full-sized, gray poodle was pulling his female owner down the path towards Derek. As the dog neared, he sniffed and started barking excitedly. While the woman tried to quiet the animal, Derek fled.
Sue was still asleep in the dark cave of their ground floor room, so he tried to move quietly. For a long moment, he stood at the foot of the big bed, gazing at the sleeping girl. He considered waking her so he could fuck her, but dismissed the idea when he remembered the way she had been just before he had left for the pool. Why were women like that, switching from a good lay to an uptight bitch?
God, what a downer, he thought. For some reason the day was taking a sudden nose dive. Maybe, it had been the remembrance of his present situation. He had forgotten-almost. A muscle along his jaw spasmed and Derek realized that he was clenching his teeth.
He sighed and shook his body, trying to loosen the tension. The room was hot and muggy and he was sticky with sweat. He peeled off his swim suit and switched on the fan to the heating system. It would at least move the air around. From his carry-on bag, he brought out his pot and rolled a joint.
After ten minutes, Derek was stretched out on his back on the carpet, floating in a pleasant world of drifting smoke. Part of the time, he stared at the gold spots painted by the reflecting sun on the white ceiling. Other times, he closed his eyes and tunelessly hummed the same snatch of a song over and over. He was vaguely aware of the need for some action, but since no specific goal presented itself, he remained on the floor.
He might have been there for only a few minutes, or it might have been hours when Sue leaned over the edge of the bed to ask what the hell he was doing.
"Doing? Doing? I'm flying, I'm doing my own thing." He giggled.
"And what pray, is your own thing?"
What was that broad rattling on about? Such a weirdo. He wormed closer to the bed, more directly under her down-turned face.
"Eyes," he said with feeling. "Eyes?"
"Yeah, eyes. Warm, soft eyes. That's what you have." Sue looked at him sharply, then sat up. "God, it stinks in here. You've been turning on, haven't you."
"And what if I have."
"Jesus, open a window. It's making me sick."
"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Derek mumbled.
Sue loomed over the edge of the bed again. "What did you say?"
"Bitch, I said bitch." His voice was lethargic.
"Are you calling me a bitch?"
"What happened to your eyes?" Derek was alarmed.
"Nothing!"
"You've done something to your eyes. You've made them go away."
"Stop that!" screamed Sue. "Stop that nonsense and sit up; I'm not going to listen to any crazy talk." She slapped him hard across the mouth.
He was stone-cold sober. An icy chill snaked along his spine as he got to his feet. Sue, sitting bolt upright in the middle of the bed, watched. He forced a smile; pain lanced through his lower lip. He licked it, tasting blood. His hand came away from his chin smeared with red.
By the time he got to the mirror and had turned on the lights over the basin, blood was dripping off his chin and down his bare torso. He splashed double handfuls of cold water on his face. The slap had broken open the cut his father had inflicted a couple of days earlier. He threw a soggy towel on the floor, reaching for another.
Sue stood at the edge of the vanity area, glaring. She had quickly slipped into her new dress. She looked very detached. "I hope you have pulled yourself together."
Derek nodded several times. "I'm very together," he said in a soft voice. "Except for the split in my lip."
"What about this mess?" Sue pointed to the wet floor and the pile of blood stained towels.
"Don't worry, I'm going to clean it up."
"You bet you are. And while you're about it, you better get some fresh towels. And make it snappy, I want to eat."
Derek finished cleaning himself, mopped up the floor with the last of the towels, dressed in brown slacks and a pale yellow shirt. He also called room service to ask for more towels to be delivered. During this time, Sue had perched on the arm of one of the chairs and said nothing.
Now as they left the sixplex and headed down the path towards the main lodge, she took Derek's hand and squeezed it. Derek said nothing and refused to look at her. They walked silently the entire distance to the lodge.
Inside near the entrance to the dining room, Sue pulled him to one side. "Listen, Derek," she said in hushed tones, "I'm sorry." Derek shrugged. "No, let me explain. My father was an alcoholic and he used to get delirious and beat mom and me. When I got older, I found that I could control him by retaliating and by shouting." She sighed deeply. "You were so spaced out back there, it scared me. I just reacted without thinking. Will you please forgive me?"
"It happened and now it's over. Don't think anything more about it." Derek's voice was still tightly controlled and very soft.
They went into the dining room, ordered gin gimlets and steak dinners. When the drinks arrived, the waitress asked that they be paid for separately. Derek reached for his wallet. "Oh, I must have left it in my other clothes when I changed. If you'll give me five minutes, I'll run over to the room and get it."
The waitress smiled. "Certainly, sir."
"I can pay," Sue said, reaching for her purse.
"No, that's all right. I'll have to get the money for dinner anyway."
After ten minutes, Sue was worried. What had happened to Derek? She was just going to look for him when he sauntered in. Ordering herself not to say anything about the delay, she tried to relax. Derek smiled, sat down and they ate their meal with a little forced conversation.
Derek ordered coffee and a piece of apple pie. Sue declined any dessert. Finishing, he asked if she wanted to go to the bar for a drink.
"I'll accompany you, if you want one." She smiled, rather sheepishly. "I'm afraid the meal didn't sit too well with me. I'm a little nauseated."
"Oh. Well, you'll probably want to lie down. Why don't you go ahead to the room?"
A tentative smile flickered on her lips. "Well, maybe I will, if you don't mind?"
"No, go right ahead."
She got up and started off, turned and said, "I'll see you soon."
"Hmmm."
She smiled wanly and left.
Derek blew out a his breath. Not for a long time, baby, not forever, he thought. His bag was waiting for him at the registration counter. The clerk had assured him there was another room available. Miss Westbrook could just kiss off. He needed a slightly crazy broad like he needed a bad case of diarrhea.
It was nine-thirty, he noted, when he found Dan Wilson tucked in a dark corner of the bar. "Sit down, man," Garrett said. "Where's the lollipop kid?"
"She's not coming."
Garrett chuckled. "Is that why she sucks?" Derek ignored the double entendre. "No, we decided on separated rooms and separate lives a bit earlier."
"Oh? Are you married to her."
"No."
Garrett shrugged, smiling. "Then what's the big hassle?"
"There isn't any."
"Right on, man. Right on."
Dan slumped over his chair like a boneless jelly fish, his blue eyes half-closed and sleepy. Apparently he had been drinking quite a lot. Either that, or he was stoned or maybe both. His deep voice and manner were quiet, relaxed and friendly. He seemed to let the hassle of life flow around him without becoming embroiled. That's what Derek wanted to be able to do, remain uninvolved. He hoped that his inheritance would insure his independence.
Dan talked to him as if they were old acquaintances. He ordered another Johnny Walker Black to go with Derek's gin and lit a cigar. With the fresh drink in one hand, he volunteered all kinds of information. He worked for a unique "organization" which had him based for the most part in San Francisco. He had flown himself up on one of the company's planes, a Cessna twin engine 310 to deliver "some goods."
During the brief pause, Derek sipped at his drink, carefully weighing the pieces of information. "You work for the Mafia, don't you?" he asked.
"Shit, no."
"But you are a pusher."
Garrett shook his head again. "Just a part-time delivery boy. Most of the time you might say I screw around." He smiled at some private joke.
Garrett leaned forward, sizing Derek up. "What are you into?" he asked. "Some rich kid running around expensive resorts, getting blow jobs?"
"Not quite." Derek swirled the ice cubes in his brink. To his way of thinking, Dan had been slowly working his way up to something. "As a matter-of-fact, I'm sort of between things. Just kind of looking around for something that feels good."
Garrett laughed. "That's a great way of putting it. 'Something that feels good.' " He leaned forward again. "You know, I might have something you'd like, something that would feel real good. But you'd have to be a special type of person, someone who really knows how to hang loose, you know what I mean?"
Derek didn't but he gave a short nod anyway.
"Are you going to be around here for awhile?"
"I'm spending the night, but I think I'll leave tomorrow," Derek said.
"Right. I'll try to reach my boss and let you know early tomorrow morning."
Derek got to his feet. "Okay."
"No, never mind about the drinks. I said I'd get them."
STRAIGHT TO NOWHERE
The new room Derek was given, located in a different lodge, was furnished with twin beds. Otherwise, the bedroom was identical to the one he had shared with Sue. He had half-expected her to return to the bar to give him hell. Of course, she probably hadn't noticed that his clothing was missing and had gone right to sleep.
Derek stripped off his clothes and climbed into one of the twin beds. His stomach was over-acidic from too much booze and a headache throbbed across his temples. The heavy blanket of a dreamless sleep was a long time in falling.
When he finally opened his eyes again, he realized that it was morning and that the hammering on his door had been going on for some time. "Derek! Derek, open this door!" Sue's voice was angry.
Groggily, he stumbled out of bed and pulled the wooden door open. Flushed with emotion, Sue stormed into the room. Out in the parking lot, an old, white-haired woman stared open mouthed at Derek's naked body. He smiled and slammed the door.
Sue stood stiffly near the fireplace, looking as if she were about to erupt. Derek ignored her and climbed back into bed. He propped the pillow up behind himself so he could watch Sue without straining.
"I'm not going to scream," Sue said, her voice louder than normal. "But I think you owe me an explanation."
"It was time we went our separate ways."
"Because of what happened last night?"
"Because it was time, that's all."
Her hands made helpless little movements as she paced the floor. "Just like that?"
"You said yourself that you knew it wouldn't work out. You were right."
She perched on the edge of the bed to clutch his hand. "Oh, Derek, I'm sorry about last night. I really am. I explained why that happened, but it won't again, not ever."
"I know it won't because I won't be there."
Sue slapped him hard, leaping for the door. "You bastard!"
"Did you find the money I left for your return trip?"
"Yes!" The door slammed behind her.
Derek felt his mouth. Fortunately it was the left hand-side this time and it was still whole. He sighed, relieved that that nasty little scene was over.
When he glanced at his watch and noted what time it was, he was surprised that he hadn't heard from" Wilson yet. As he reached for the bedside phone, someone knocked at his door. "Who is it?" he called, determined not to let Sue back in.
"Dan Wilson."
Rising, Derek padded over to unlock and open the door. Garrett stepped in, carrying a small black case. His watery blue eyes gave Derek an unconcealed appraisal. "You know, I always thought I was well hung, but you're fantastic."
Derek glanced down at his dangling manhood and shrugged.
"Do you like to use it?"
"What?"
"Your cock. Can you dig the orgy scene? Would you mind an audience?"
Derek eyed Dan suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about money, lots of it and girls. Girls so hot that they want to be fucked for hours at a time. And maybe some boys to suck your dick. You said you wanted something that felt good. Well, man, this is it."
Turning, Derek walked over to the bed. He sat cross-legged on top of it. "You want to start at the beginning?"
"Yeah, sure." Garrett slumped into one of the leather and wood chairs. "My employer is a wealthy eccentric. He gets his jollies by watching other people get their rocks off. He's a voyeur. Anyway, he usually employs four or five handsome young people just to run around naked and fuck one another. He watches, of course."
"Sounds kind of weird," said Derek.
"It's not really. You forget about him and just enjoy the sex and sunshine. As I said, you'll get all the action you can handle. And besides room and board, he'll pay you a thousand a month."
Derek sat open-mouthed, trying to imagine the kinky scene. "Are you interested?"
Derek nodded. "But what if I decide after I've been there awhile that I don't dig it?"
"Well, there are some conditions. You have to stay a minimum of three months and there can be no contact with the outside world."
"Oh? What do you mean 'the outside world?' "
"My employer has several villas located in rather secluded spots around the world, so you're pretty well cutoff."
Derek's mind was working fast, trying to digest the facts. "How come he lets you out?"
Cocking an eye brow, Garrett said, "Pretty sharp, aren't you? Well, I have graduated. I still get to fuck the girls when I want to, but I spend a lot of time doing others things now."
"Will I have to do 'other things?' "
"No, he doesn't like to have his playthings messing in his business. You still interested."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Good." Garrett pulled open the curtain, allowing the strong sunlight to flood the room. "I couldn't reach Himself, but my supervisor liked the sound of you and she said to get some good pictures of you and that'll be your application. Come on over here in the sun."
Derek swallowed, rose to walk over and stand in the square of carpet washed by the sun. Taking the Polaroid camera from its case, Garrett composed a couple of shots.
"Now," Garrett said, "I want you to get a hard-on. The boss-likes to see all the merchandise."
"I don't know that I can." Derek had a sudden case of nerves.
"Sure you can. Think about that little honey who was giving you the head job yesterday. Play with yourself, then." Smiling, Garrett advanced. "Here." His hands cupped Derek's flaccid sex organs, bouncing them.
A shiver ran through his body. No male, outside of doctors, had touched his prick since he had been twelve. And while he wasn't opposed to other people doing what they wanted, he wasn't sure he could get turned on this way.
Derek fastened his eyes on the dark rough volcanic stones of the fireplace and tried to blank all thought from his mind. The touch was soft, gently massaging his balls and making short, little stroking motions along the pase of his dangling prick. He focused on the trickle of sensation growing in his loins, forgetting all else.
A sudden shudder passed through his body and his prick raised up into a stiff erection. The hand, still moving slowly, remained close to the base of the organ. The teasing touch fired his imagination and blood. Derek closed his eyes and his panting breath came through a half-open mouth. Trying to encourage the other to stroke the full length of his hard prick, to stimulate the sensitive head, Derek pumped his hips in opposition to the moving hand.
Garrett got the message, his hand now forcing the loose skin back and forth over the swollen glans. Derek sighed with pleasure. He rocked his hips faster.
Suddenly the hand was gone. For a long moment, Derek, his eyes still closed, his pelvis still thrusting, waited for its return. Hearing the click of the shutter, he opened his eyes. The camera hovered close by, focusing on the phallus which jutted from his loins. The excited prick expanded slightly and pulsed a deeper shade with each thump of his tripping heart.
Wilson, on his knees, aimed the camera again and again. Derek noticed the blonde's erection bulging down one leg of his tight pants. Finally, Wilson put down the camera and reached for Derek's prick again.
Derek sighed at the touch. The hands stroked and rubbed the most sensitive parts. Derek started rocking his hips again, working hard for the release he needed. The hands knew what to do. Their lightning strokes, gentle as a feather and as exciting as electricity, danced over his glans, surrounding it in overwhelming pleasure.
Suddenly Derek's teeth gnashed as a spasm gripped his sweaty body and he began to shoot. The hands grabbed him snuggly, fastening around a portion of the long shaft and firmly cupping the engorged balls. Their pleasant, tight pressure remained while he groaned and squirted his liquifying ecstasy onto the carpet and stone hearth.
Moments later, Garrett stood near the door, smiling. "Too bad the Silent One wasn't here. He would've appreciated your performance. Try not to use it all up before I get back to you. Where can I contact you in two or three weeks?"
Derek dropped into one of the leather chairs as if suddenly boneless. "I don't know, I'm going to be moving around."
"Oh." Garrett flipped through the color prints he held in his hands. He glanced up at Derek and then back at the pictures. "Do you want to come with me now? I really shouldn't but if you just dropped out of sight, it might be a good way."
"Yeah?" Derek thought for a moment. He could give the keys to his car to Sue and let her drive it back to Eugene. It would probably be hot anyway. He would tell her that he was taking the bus. "Okay," he said.
"I'll meet you at the blue and white Cessna 310 parked at the north end of the runway in thirty minutes." Garrett left and after five minutes of head-back relaxation, Derek got busy.
Garrett climbed into the left hand seat and Derek followed him up into the plane. "Leave the door open for the time being." Garrett said as he helped Derek with the shoulder harness-seat belt combination. "Have you ever flown in a light plane before?"
"Yeah," Derek said, "several. I really enjoy it. In fact, I've thought about learning to fly."
"Yeah? My employer sprang for mine. I told him that I'd like to be able to fly some of his planes and he said, 'Why not.' Just like that." Garrett started running down the check lists. While they were still outside, he had done a walk-around, pointing out some of the things a good pilot always checked before taking-off.
The plane was sparkling white with sculptured wing-tip tanks and an electric blue line which streaked from the pointed nose, down the fuselage to fan out across the vertical stabilizer. Garrett had explained that the plane was turbo-charged and cost about $150,000. Having finished setting the controls, he opened the plexiglas panel on his left, shouted "Clear!" and hit the starter.
The left engine ground over twice and roared into life, causing the plane to lurch down on its landing gear. Leaning across Derek, he pulled the door to but didn't latch it. Then he fired up the other engine. The plane throbbed with power while Garrett continued to work from his various check lists.
"Okay," he said, "Let's taxi out to the runway." The wind indicator showed the wind from the north so they headed to the south end. Holding short of the runway, Garrett pivoted the plane into the wind for the final run-up. Everything checked so he closed his window and latched the door and guided the plane out onto the paved strip.
The needles on the engine instruments jumped up as he advanced the throttles and the plane gathered speed. Even considering the near 4000 foot elevation and the temperature, the plane leaped off the runway to climb boldly into the sky. Wheels and flaps up, Garrett readjusted the engine settings for a steady climb and radioed the nearest control center.
"We're going to climb up to 18,500 feet and fly directly to Seattle," Garrett explained when he had finished with the radio.
"Seattle? I thought we were going to San Francisco."
"A little unfinished business, then south." He showed Derek how to use the oxygen mask. They quickly reached 18,500 and leveled off. Garrett adjusted some of radio navigation gear and tapped one dial. "DME," he said. "Distance measuring equipment. That's our speed." The gauge read 280 knots.
"You want to fly for awhile?" Garrett's voice was a little garbled by the oxygen mask. Derek nodded eagerly. "Okay, just put your feet on the rudder petals and take the wheel. Good. Watch the horizon, keep the wings level with it and maintain this heading." He tapped the compass.
From his previous flying experience, Derek knew some of the basics. Actually in straight and level flight, the plane could fly itself. Their course was a slight dog-leg towards Portland, then angled north to Seattle. Shortly after crossing the mighty Columbia River, they descended to 12,500 feet.
Just slightly better than an hour after take-off, Garrett requested a straight-in approach to the Boeing Field in south Seattle. They dropped in a long, slow descend. As the plane slowed to 150 knots, Garrett added the first 15 degrees of flaps. The nose wanted to come up, but he quickly readjusted the trim to maintain a steady rate of descent. Landing gear down, fuel pumps on, they sped over the sprawling outskirts of Seattle.
They had long since hung up their oxygen masks. "You can continue to follow along with the controls if you want to," Garrett said. "Just remember not to counter anything I do."
"I know." Tense with excitement, Derek tried to follow everything Garrett was doing. His hands were slippery with sweat on the control wheel as Garrett added the final degrees of flaps and the plane seemed to nose straight down towards the huge runway. The air speed indicator hovered at 95 knots. The concrete raced towards them with the speed of an express train. For one panicked moment, Derek was sure they were going to slam right into the runway.
They didn't. Garrett eased the wheel all the way back; the plane flared gracefully and settled onto the field with scarcely a bump. They used less than a third of the long strip to slow gently to taxiing speed. Turning off, Garrett received permission to proceed to Flite Ways facilities.
There, he spent half an hour making sure the plane received the proper fuel and was parked in a secure manner.
Their cab wound out of the industrial basin surrounding the airport to gain the freeway. His attention not riveted to the serious business of flying, Derek noted the skyline in the cloudy, early afternoon light. It hadn't changed much. The unique spire of the Space Needle, a five hundred plus steel tower crowned with a revolving restaurant and which had been built for the 1962 Seattle World's Fair, was still visible between the tall buildings of downtown. The newly constructed, block-square, fifty story Seattle First National Bank Building, looking ominous with its black exterior, loomed as the tallest structure in the city.
The airport taxi dropped them at the drive-in lobby of the new Washington Plaza Hotel, distinguished by its thirty-five story round tower. After checking in, Garrett asked Derek to take their luggage up to the room as he had to dash away to meet someone. "Do you have any money?" he asked.
"Sure," Derek replied.
"Well, why don't you have lunch and amuse yourself for awhile. I'll be gone for about three hours or so. I'll meet you in the room about six."
Derek shrugged. "Okay."
Derek had been to Seattle several times before and he didn't consider it all that exciting of a city. Wandering along the streets, he glanced at the windows and looked through the big department stores. He had a delicious lunch at a tiny French restaurant just off Seventh Avenue.
By five, he was tired and bored so, he returned to his hotel room. Unzipping his boots, he kicked them off and flopped on one of the two double beds. The curtains along the curved windows were half-closed. That, together with the gathering clouds cast the room into a gray half-light. Derek rolled a joint from the thing he had gotten out of his bag and laid back, smoking.
He wondered briefly what would happen next: Would he be hired to provide entertainment for some wealthy weirdo as Dan seemed to think? And if he was hired would it be like he always dreamed-unlimited pussy? Could his dream possibly come true without the inheritance? Just maybe, just maybe.
He knew that there was some one else in the room even before he realized that he had been asleep. The curtains still stood half-drawn but the sky had darkened and the room was as inky as a tomb. Light spilled into the room from the opening bathroom door. A person stepped out on the fan-shaped wedge of lighted carpet, a black silhouette against the glare.
At first, Derek thought it was Dan. Then the figure turned slightly and the slanting light sculptured the feminine curves of the naked body with highlights. The girl just stood for a moment, aware that Derek had levered himself up on one elbow to watch. Seemingly satisfied with the impression she had made, she switched on the room lights.
The unexpected flood of bright light caused Derek to blink. The impact of the poised young woman was one of total, driving sexuality. Relaxed and confident in her nudity, she exuded a psychic musk, an arrogance mixed with availability. Tall, five foot ten inches, her slim body was vibrant with sexuality without any of the overblown, overripe bulges of some women. In fact, Derek decided, she was almost boyish in build. Her breasts were perfect cones, small yet infinitely proud.
Gracefully, she moved across the room towards him like a sleek jungle cat. The velvety flow of firm muscles under her honey-colored skin attested to her appearance of physical strength. Her coppery-gold hair was about the same length as Dan's, which had caused Derek's initial confusion. Her flickering eyes never left him as she advanced to the end of his bed.
Derek opened his mouth to speak, but she suddenly lept on the bed. Straddling him, one foot on either side of his reclining body, she walked right up the bed until she was directly overhead. She had such a defiant manner and moved with such assurance, Derek was stunned. He lay with his mouth open, his breathing quick and shallow, his eyes following the sculptured lines of the muscles in her calves and thighs up to her pussy. The bright lights of the room played off the thick, tight curls of her golden triangle. The glossy pelt, while not large, was so abundant that there was only a hint of her slot deep in the fur.
Finally, he was able to tear his eyes from the alluring triangle of gold long enough to glance up at her pretty face. Sitting down on top of him, her body pinned his to the bed and her mouth locked over his.
Not a word had been spoken, so strong was the trance she had cast. Derek had no idea who she was or what she wanted. Unless, she had come here expressly to rape him. His normal hot urge was frosted with an icy edge of fear, a feeling which might have been similar to a girl's reaction when she was about to be taken by force. His arms and legs were trapped under her enveloping body. And even if they hadn't been, he wasn't sure he could have resisted her.
Her tongue forced its way into his mouth to do secret things. The warmth of her naked body moved over him. His prick swelled in the tight confines of his pants. While she continued to french him in an aggressively exciting manner, her hands stroked him. He grew so eager to have her, to touch her, that he was trembling.
Suddenly, she lept from the bed. With blinding speed and surprising strength, she literally ripped the clothes from his body and was back on top of him before he had time to react. She thrust her tongue back into his mouth and at the same time, her cunt lips made contact with the tip of his standing erection. They seemed to open and suck the entire length of his throbbing phallus into the lubricated hollowness. The hot, slippery sheath squirmed and squeezed around his prick with powerful vitality.
As her narrow hips began to rock and dance up and down and around his erect prick, he freed his arms to draw her body tight to his. The feel of her sleek, muscular body was surprisingly hard, almost like the body of a male athlete. The silky movements of her body, her skin, her cunt, her hands, her mouth and lips rocketed him to the brink. Sensing this, the smooth speed of her hips tripled. The rapid stroking of the cunt seemed to create a fantastic vacuum, which literally sucked the sperm from his balls. Instead of the usual series of spraying-spasms, his massively swollen genitals trembled and vibrated continuously for ten seconds while his thick seed gushed forth in one painful surge.
Suddenly she was standing beside the bed. His teeth chattered; his body alternately prickled with sweat and tingled with gooseflesh as the sexual excitement continued to wash through his body, slowly exhausting itself. The girl, her eyes an unexpected lime green, leaned down to kiss him quickly. "You're a good fuck, Derek," she whispered. Then she disappeared into the bathroom.
In time, Derek recovered sufficiently to get up. He looked at his naked reflection in the mirror over the dresser with an expression which asked: "What happened?"
Easing the door open, he entered the bathroom. The girl lounged in a tubful of water. Her smile sparkled. Derek waved at her. "Ah, Miss, do you know me?"
"Intimately, but not well."
A frown of puzzlement creased Derek's features, then he nodded. "Oh. I mean beside what just happened in there."
"Was there something I missed?"
Derek opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. After a moment, he said, "You know, you're right. I am a good fuck." The sound of a light laugh followed him out the door.
Garrett was just entering. "Hi, stud," he said, grinning. "I see you're already for some action. You're in luck because I know a girl who will be over later tonight to test your reflexes."
"You mean her?" Derek pushed the bathroom door open.
"Milinda! How the hell did you get here so fast?"
The girl was drying herself. Carrying the towel, she pushed between the two men to sit on the edge of the nearer bed. Her naked body was poised regally. "Were you successful in your delivery?" she asked. Her eyes were as cold as frosted emeralds.
Garrett's smile faded. "Yes. No problems, no lose ends." His quiet, subdued tone was a sharp change from his boisterous greeting.
Milinda, sitting on the towel, motioned towards Derek. "Well, Garrett, your judgment seems to be improving. This one certainly has the looks and even shows some signs of intelligence. Did you tell him that the scene is a real mixed bag and that he will have to be totally uninhibited and very obedient?"
Dan or Garrett or whatever his name was, glanced at Derek before nodding.
"Derek, come here." Milinda's voice which was deep for a girl, carried the weight of her apparent authority over to her command to him. He came forward to stand where she indicated.
Her forefinger, the nail innocent of polish, traced a slow, circuitous route from the copper disc of his right nipple down his trim torso to dawdle in his kinky, black pubic hair. Instead of continuing down the long length of his flaccid prick, she traced around it, her finger moving from pubis to thigh to left leg, to right leg, to thigh and back to pubis again in a slow, tickling, ever-decreasing spiral towards his sex organs.
Her lime-green eyes met and held his. Unexpectedly, without glancing away, she snapped the head of his cock with her fingers, causing Derek to wince. "You're obviously built for sex but do you enjoy it?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure? I knew a guy once whose cock was even larger than yours, if you can believe that. The trouble was, he could only get it up about half the time."
Derek shrugged. "I don't seem to have any problems."
"Does an audience bother you?"
Derek hadn't made too many orgy scenes. All of them, in fact, more the result of accident, rather than design. The two or three times he had an audience occurred at parties where someone stumbled into the bedroom where he was fucking some chick. And of course there was yesterday when Dan had been watching at Sunriver. But he didn't really mind. On the contrary, an audience added a little spice. He said as much.
"I see." Milinda's entrancing eyes continued to probe. "What about boys? Have you ever made it with another male?"
Derek shrugged noncommittally.
"Would you do it regularly if it were part of the job?" she asked.
"Dan never said anything about it being a steady gig, only that there would be a lot of girls."
"His name is Garrett Justin and he doesn't call the shots. For a thousand a month would you occasionally suck a cock?"
Derek chewed his lower lip for a time, his eyes downcast. "I guess," he mumbled.
"What?" demanded Milinda.
"I said yes."
Milinda beckoned Garrett over. "Strip off your clothes." she ordered.
Unhappiness lining his face, Garrett did as he was told. His tall athletic body was a deep, nonstop bronze from hair to heel and his circumcised prick, even relaxed, was an impressive size.
"Suck him off, Derek. Make him come. Don't be bashful, it's not difficult. Since you have a cock of your own, you certainly know what feels good. Boys really do make the best cock suckers." She laughed.
For a long moment, Derek hesitated. Garrett, his breath coming faster than normal, shifted his weight nervously from one foot to another. Derek recalled that at Sunriver after the first contact, he had welcomed the presence of Garrett's hands as they masturbated lum. What the hell? It was just a matter of getting by the moment, of waiting. He had had a lot of practice at waiting. All kinds of waiting.
Sinking to his knees, Derek placed a hand on either of Garrett's hips. The narrow hip bone was sheathed in firm muscles. A fine golden sheen polished Garrett's arms and legs and thickened towards the midline of his lower abdomen. From just below his navel, the hair marched with increasing density and a growing hint of red, down to the amber curls which surrounded the base of his prick and furred his balls.
Derek slid his hands in towards Garrett's cock, causing the organ to respond immediately. The phallus stretched longer, the dark color of the tanned flesh paling as the skin grew taut and shiny with the progressing erection. At the same time, the loose scrotum rippled and contracted, drawing the balls into a tight wad at the base of the gradually elevating prick. Derek clamped his hand around the base of the phallus and squeezed, forcing the cock to bulge to its maximum length.
The shaft seemed unbelievably hard in Derek's hands and the smooth head was a surprisingly large mouthful when he sucked it in, remembering to cover his teeth with his lips. Garrett, panting nosily, grabbed Derek's head when he started to flick his tongue around Garrett's glans. He rammed his hips forward, forcing his cock down Derek's throat. Derek nearly gagged, yet managed to keep sucking. His hand massaged the balls and jerked back and forth over the lower half of Garrett's prick.
Derek worked steadily. Just as his lips and jaws were beginning to ache from being held in the unaccustomed position, Garrett came, shooting a flood of the unique tasting semen down his throat. Derek gulped rapidly; still some sperm leaked around the thrusting cock to drip down his chin. When he drew his mouth away, Garrett's erection was already sagging and shrinking.
"Hurray!" cried Milinda as she disappeared into the bathroom. Seconds later, she reappeared, dressed and departed the room without a comment.
Garrett, reaching down, slipped his hands under Derek's arms and helped him to his feet. Indicating that Derek should sit on the bed, he went to the bathroom to return with a damp face cloth. He cleaned Derek's face as if he were a small boy. "I hope you didn't mind that too much. Milinda just had to prove that she was boss and that you would take orders."
Derek shook his head in a negative manner but said nothing.
Rolling a couple of joints, Garrett handed one to Derek and they smoked in silence.
"Why don't you stretch out?" Garrett suggested as he prepared two more joints. Derek moved up the bed to lie on his back. Handing over the new joint, Garrett laid next to Derek, propped up on his side. Derek was beautiful, Garrett thought, admiring the nude youth. Derek reminded him of his older brother, Robert.
Garrett was the second son of a southern California family. His parents never got on very well, living in a form of armed truce. Since the family lived on border-line poverty, the boys shared the same room, the same bed and even some of the same clothes. Mrs. Justin was a cold woman, who warmed only when Robert was around. She ignored Garrett almost completely. Fortunately, Robert enjoyed looking after his younger brother and Garrett adored him.
As the boys grew older, they remained close. Bob was both friend and counselor to Garrett. And they remained close physically, bathing and sleeping together and sharing the secrets of their blossoming sexuality.
When Bob had been killed in a helicopter crash in Vietnam, Garrett had been totally lost. It was only by chance that Milinda had spotted him one day on the free beach near San Gregorio, just south of San Francisco.
Derek had a superficial resemblance to Bob and seemed like a nice person. Garrett placed a hand on the hairless thigh which was close to his own. He could feel the muscle direct under the skin, no fat. The muscle was relaxed. Through half-closed eyes, Derek glanced up at him.
"Over in Sunriver," Garrett said, "you looked like you really were enjoying that head job you were receiving."
Derek nodded. "Yeah." His voice was thick with pot.
"Better to receive than to give, huh?" Garrett cupped Derek's limp sex organs in his hand. Derek giggled. "Yeah."
"Who would you prefer to suck off, a boy or a girl?"
"Male, female, I don't care as long as they know how."
"Is that so?" Garrett swung around so he could work more directly on Derek's genitals. He massaged the large firm nuts carefully, then stroked the prick. Derek sighed with pleasure and spread his legs more. His eyes were closed and he seemed on the verge of falling asleep. Garrett rolled the dense, spongy column of Derek's soft cock between his hands, enjoying the feeling of vitality as blood coursed into the organ.
Unexpectedly, Derek felt his prick erecting in Garrett's hands. "Hey, man, what are you doing?"
"Turn about is fair play, don't you think?"
Garrett's fingers rubbed back and forth over Derek's naked glans. "Ooo!" A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips. "You don't have to do that," he panted.
"I want to, though," said Garrett.
A warm, wet tongue polished the super-sensitive underside of Derek's glans. His cock expanded and tingled with surging sensations. While one hand gripped his balls, providing an intensification of the feelings, the other hand pumped up and down the shaft. The tongue continued to be kind. He was rapidly brought to the verge of an orgasm. He thrust his hips upward.
The tongue moved away and the stimulating movements of Garrett's hand slowed, just keeping him on the electrifying edge of a full sexual charge. For several moments, the hand just coasted up and down the hard phallus. When Derek started to thrust his hips again, the tongue made contact with the tip of his prick, stroking it, wetting it and then his crown was engulfed. And slowly with thrusting motions, the mouth swallowed up more and more of his long prick. Never did he feel the harsh edge of teeth, only the slick walls of mouth and throat. Then Garrett did what no one else had ever been able to do. Relaxing his throat, he swallowed the whole length of Derek's big prick. Once it was deep inside, the strong throat muscles combined with expert action of the tongue and violent sucking motions to provide the most fantastic sensations Derek had ever experienced. No one could match this sensual trick. When his body, taut with sexual tension, glowed with sweat and he was clutching at Garrett's hair, Garrett released his cock.
For several moments, Derek lay with his eyes closed, gasping for air. His blue veined phallus, wet from Garrett's warm mouth, cooled in the air. When the sensations ebbed and he had back away from the imminent climax, he opened his eyes. Garrett smiled at him, his hands closing around his balls and the base of his erect prick again. Bending his head down again, Garrett opened his mouth. Derek took double handfuls of blonde hair, pulling it, commanding Garrett to act.
Garrett's red tongue darted out, touching the crown making the phallus bounce with excitement. Then he allowed Derek to thrust the long prick deep into his mouth. Moving his hips, Derek plunged through the warm, humid depths of the slippery mouth and throat. He groaned with the sheer, gratifying bliss of it. Then, overwhelmed, a lightning bolt of white-hot energy zapped through his body. Derek fountained, sprayed and squirted until silent tears rolled from his eyes, the pain-pleasure was so great. Finally he managed a groaning whimper and Garrett released him.
A moment later, Derek gasped, "Jesus!"
"Better than average?" asked Garrett.
"Fantastic. That was even better than last time. How did you learn to do that with your throat?"
A grin of pleasure showed on Garrett's face. "It's a secret a little Japanese girl showed me. She was something else." Standing, Garrett held out a hand to pull Derek to his feet. They went into the bathroom to tumble into the shower together.
After soaping himself up well, Derek handed the bar to Garrett. As the taller guy scrubbed himself, he shouted over the loud hiss of the shower, "I don't suppose I have to tell you that Milinda can be a real bitch when she wants to."
"You mean she's not always like that?"
Garrett grinned. "There have been a few rare moments. Just obey her and you'll not have any trouble."
"Is she really the boss?"
"Second only to Mr. Shearer."
Derek stepped out of the way to allow Garrett a chance at the water while he shampooed his hair.
Garrett stared openly at Derek's dangling cock. "She was right, you know," Garrett said. "About boys. They do make the best cock suckers. I think that my brother had the right idea. He said that as far as he was concerned there were two separate sexes in the world: His and everyone else's."
A BEAUTY AND THE END OF A DREAM
A chattering groan swelled to a thunderous, steady beat and moved overhead. The heavy, turbine-powered white and blue helicopter swept in over the breaking surf, sinking low to settle noisily out of sight in front of the large house.
Joyce's small hand had closed over Derek's tanned arm, which lay on the white enameled table. Seemingly unconscious of her actions, her nails bit into his flesh. The slow swirl of the helicopter's blades and the whining drone of its engine could still be heard. Joyce sat rigidly silent, her eyes fixed on the double, sliding glass doors of the house.
The whine of the turbine pitched higher and the beat of the revolving blades grew deeper. The machine flashed overhead and out along the coastline again. Joyce's white breasts rose and fell in a silent sigh. As her washed-out blue eyes met Derek's, a small blush of color showed briefly on her cheeks.
Aware of the tension in her body, Derek leaned forward to kiss her in an attempt to reassure her that she was safe.
Safe from what?
Her stiff posture melted and she returned the kiss with a passion born, seemingly, of relief.
Mrs. Klinemen, the servant, a dried twig of a creature, slipped quietly out of the glass doors. She approached Joyce to hand her a small folded piece of paper. Joyce glanced at it, looked towards the house and then nodded. The old woman returned to the house.
"We have been requested to retire to our rooms until summoned for dinner about nine tonight," Joyce said, her face giving away no secrets. "I would invite you to spend the time with me, but I'm not feeling too well at the moment."
"Oh? I hope it's nothing serious."
Joyce exposed the inside of her left arm for his inspection. It was pocked with needle scars. "Not really. I'm a diabetic. Perhaps, I've overdone today. A little rest will help."
Derek placed a hand on her arm which felt cold. "Sure. I'll see you at dinner, then."
She nodded. "You better dress. I suppose your formal dinner wear, something appropriate for a guest."
"Okay."
Derek's bungalow was the last one in a series of three which ran from the end of the house through a grove of kaiwe and coco palms to just under the shadow of the tall southern headland. The slow swirl of the gentle surf reached up the coral sand to within fifty yards of his front steps.
The wooden structure, itself, was typical of native Hawaiian's houses, a small one bedroom affair with living room, kitchen and tiny bathroom, all built on short stilts about two feet off the ground. Some attempts had been made to redecorate and modernize the old building. The kitchen had new appliances and the bathroom had been recently replumbed. The rooms were simply furnished with rattan chairs, couches and with sea-grass mats covering the floor. Sand from bare, wet feet shifted down through these mats leaving a clean floor. Occasionally the mats would be removed to sweep the sand out. The entire building, both inside and out, had been painted an off-white not too many seasons ago.
Up behind the partial ring of the old volcano which now cupped this peaceful cove, stretched long acres of a pineapple plantation. Derek guess that many years ago when this cove was the home of the plantation owner, the bungalows had been used by some of the field workers. Now, they were part of the closely guarded estate of the mysterious and as yet unseen Mr. Shearer.
Despite the fact that the Tradewinds were beginning to stir the fronds outside, the air inside the cabin felt close. The late afternoon heat made Derek restless. He padded out the screen door to stand on the small porch for a few minutes. The head-wall of lava stood just a few feet to his left. The stone, relatively smooth in some places, seemed to offer several possible pathways up its face. The view from the top might be interesting.
In ten minutes Derek reached the top of the ridge. Leaning against an outcropping of rock, he let the breezes cool his sweaty body. Successive flows of lava made the immediate area next to the old cone a barren waste. Farther down the water's edge, however, the lava gave way to sand and on higher ground to thin soil where trees and bushes labored for life under the fierce sun. Beyond the tiny inlet, flows of lava again ran to the sea, surrounding the small island of life with dark, dead lava on three sides and blue sea with its fringing white on the fourth.
A movement down among the trees startled Derek. His natural instinct was to crouch. Keeping low to the rocks, he crawled forward to where he could see two men, identically dressed in gray slacks and light colored shirts, emerge from the screening vegetation. Between them struggled a black-haired girl. Her honey colored body, clad only in a brown and white bikini, gave the impression that she was Hawaiian, though at this distance, Derek couldn't be sure.
One man kept his hand clamped across her mouth. The desperation of the girl's struggle shocked Derek into action. But before he could scale more than ten feet down the far side of the steep headland, it was already too late. A few feet in the water, one of the men was now kneeling. Beneath him two slim bare legs kicked feebly. Derek, clinging to the edge of the rough lava, could see no more of the girl, for she was face down and the man knelt on her back, his hands pressing down on her head, ramming her face into the wet sand.
The icy shudder which shook his body nearly caused Derek to loose his precarious grip. He was a helpless witness to cold-blooded murder!
The long slim legs were still. He watched the man rise. The girl did not move. Nor, would she ever move again. Derek barely had time to clamber back on top of the ridge before he retched. The spasms left him weak and shaky.
When he forced himself to look down on the scene of horror again, the men had disappeared. Yet the body of the girl remained visible enough, floating back and forth in the wash of the surf. Apparently her death was supposed to look like an accident.
Derek struggled to his feet, his skin clammy with cold sweat and his mouth vile tasting. Trembling, he was torn between the urge to flee, against the possible return of the murderers and the desire to go to the girl in vague hope that she might still be alive. He searched the cliff again for a better way down, but the rough rock sheered to a near vertical and offered only a fall of two hundred feet.
Finally, he climbed down the lava the way he had come. Jumping the last ten feet, he landed in the sand and made a running dive into the low surf. He circumnavigated the jutting headland with the speed of an Olympic swimmer.
Gasping, he pulled himself from the cool seawater. The sun, dipping low, sent out fiery streams of yellow and orange, bathing the surface of the sea in molten gold. A sea breeze had lifted, chilling his wet, naked body as he jogged along the water's edge searching for the girl. Hidden in the swirling foam, he nearly tripped over the body.
For a long painful moment, he stood looking at the body as it swayed back and forth, face down. How long had it been? Twenty minutes? A half-hour? No one could hold their breath that long.
His body was shaking violently, more from fear of touching a corpse than from the wind or exhaustion. He reached for the outstretched hand. It was cold. Biting his lower lip, he grasped the hand tighter and pulled. He half-expected it to come off; it didn't. Instead the body drew closer to him and he backed towards the shore. When the water grew too shallow to support the body, he bent down and scooped it up in his arms.
The small body was incredibly light as if death had stolen all of its substance. He backed up the beach until he was well into the dry sand, then he sank to his knees and carefully laid the girl down on her back. Her dark, slanting eyes stared wildly at him. For a heart-stopping second, he thought she was still alive. Her face, however, was a rigid death mask of terror. Sandy water trickled from her nostrils and gaping mouth. His shaking hand touched her chest just under the left breast. He could feel her small ribs easily but no heart beat was to be found.
He closed her eyes and sat back, his buttocks resting on his heels. She had been young, probably no more than twenty. Her black hair was matted, tangled and filled with sand. Her brown and white bikini looked brand new. Now she won't need it.
Derek stared unblinkingly at the setting sun as silent tears slid down his cheeks. Only a few bars of angry red remained in the sky. He didn't know what to do. He didn't like the idea of leaving the girl for the insects and fishes too. He should report what he had seen. But how could he? I He didn't know where the town was and he didn't trust Shearer or his group. Maybe she was one of their party and they would report her disappearance. The area seemed so deserted that it was hard to believe she could have come from any other place but Shearer's. What-what if it had been they who had killed her? If they knew that he was a witness, wouldn't they also kill him?
Derek felt faint from the emotional strain of the situation. He could no longer think clearly. God, how he wished he had never climbed that promontory.
Without looking at the body again, he stepped over it and walked into the sea. By the time he reached the beach in front of his bungalow, he was exhausted, totally drained and chilled through. As he climbed up the three wooden steps to the front porch, the door suddenly opened and silhouetted in the light stood Joyce.
She moved back into the living room as he stumbled in. "Where have you been?" she asked with obvious concern. "You're dripping wet and all goosebumpy. Have you been swimming?"
She shook her head. Wearing a cocktail dress which was a soft shade of pearly pink, she looked very chic. "Come on, Mr. Shearer will be wondering what has happened to us if we don't get up there soon."
Derek shook his head weakly. "I can't go."
"What's wrong? You look sick."
"I-Out there-Nothing, I just don't feel like going."
"You have to! I'm not very well liked around here any more and if you don't show up this evening, Mr. Shearer will blame me." She dragged him into the bathroom where she started the shower. "Get in there and clean up. I'll lay your clothes out."
Dazed, Derek washed himself mechanically. The hot water warmed him and brought some sense of life back to his exhausted body.
When he stepped from the shower, Joyce handed him a glass of water and a couple of rounded triangular tablets of an orangish-buff color. "Here, take these. They'll make you feel better."
"I don't want any dope."
"Take them, damn it, or you'll get us in trouble."
''What is it?"
"Just something to keep you awake."
"Is it speed?"
Joyce shook her head. "No, it's just a little Dexedrine. It's like coffee."
Reluctantly Derek swallowed the tablets. Now, hurry," Joyce said, "and get dressed." She had set out the new formal clothes Garrett had purchased for him while they were still in San Francisco.
His mind was dull and empty as he pulled on the black, flared tux slacks. Joyce helped him with the white shirt. Expertly she placed the studs in the midst of the numerous ruffles. She even tied the wide Donald Duck black satin bow tie for him. Black socks and black patent leather pumps completed his outfit.
Joyce fastened some suspenders on the back of his trousers and dropped them over his shoulders. "Here, button these on. You're so slim waisted, you'd probably loose your pants if you don't have suspenders."
By the time he got the white, double breasted Edwardian jacket on and stood in front of the mirror, he was feeling a little light headed but more with it.
Joyce lead him towards the villa. "Now, remember that this is a formal affair. There will be a special guest of honor, a young lady from Asia. You will be introduced to her and are expected to say the right things. Other than that, we, the hired help, look decorative and keep out of the way."
They mounted the broad steps leading up to the flagged terrace. She stopped Derek just outside the door to fuss with his tie. "Remember, Mr. Shearer is an unusual man. Whatever he says or does, just go along with it as if you were quite used to it. Oh, and don't expect him to speak to you. He rarely does."
Derek's head buzzed and he was unable to follow Joyce's comments very well because his thoughts were so disconnected. He shook his head, but it did nothing to clear away the mental fog. His blood felt hot and he had a vague urge to do something, without really knowing what.
Inside everyone else was present. Next to Milinda O'Donnell, who looked tall and sleekly sexy, was a petite beauty, a beguiling Oriental princess. At least, she looked like a princess to Derek. She was a delicacy in bronze, sleepy-eyed and sex-sullen. Despite the pull at his sleeve, Derek headed right for the guest. He had to meet her!
"Ah," Milinda purred as she saw Derek striding up. "Miss
Lai, may I present the newest member of our household, Derek Wakefield.
"Derek, Miss Ku Ti Lai from Benjai, Thailand."
Ku Ti's almond eyes slid over Derek, caressing him from black curls to black shoes. She was a slim, lovely Eurasian, proud and immaculate in a tight cheongsom cut from a silver brocade. The high collar made her face look like the famed Siamese cats of her homeland. The slit dress showed a round, firm thigh as she moved forward to greet Derek. He bowed slightly. Her smile was enigmatic.
Joyce hurried up, was introduced and then pulled Derek away. "I told you to play it cool," she warned. Derek smiled. His blood was racing through his veins now and he was itching for some action. She led him away to the bar where they each accepted a glass of champagne.
In the opposite corner, Garrett, dressed formally in an outfit similar to Derek's, except the jacket was a more conservative cut in burgundy, stood next to a chair in which Toy James sat, elegantly clad in a flowing chiffon affair of pale emerald. Lots of her fashion model body was exposed and her chocolate skin looked good enough to eat. Derek's prick began uncoiling in anticipation.
He jumped as Joyce tapped him on the shoulder. For some reason, he was really hyped up. She pointed to the interior doors which old Klinemen had just opened. A man appeared in the double doorway. Was this Shearer?
The old Oriental gentleman who shuffled through the doors was totally unexpected. No one had said anything to lead Derek to believe Shearer was anything but American. This man seemed small, although the full cut of his garment's was deceptive. The chubby, round, nearly bald head, with its fringe of whispery white hair, was a sallow yellow. The color was unusual, too pale to be Chinese and too yellow to be Western. Dressed in a Nehru jacket of royal purple and baggy black silk trousers, he was elegantly casual. Only his eyes were disquieting, for in their blackness there seemed to be no bottom, indicating a lack of soul, perhaps? They were alive and quick with the cunning of a wild, predatory beast. Derek didn't like him.
Mr. Shearer bowed to the room and moved slowly in to greet Miss Ku and Milinda. Stepping in from the shadows of the other room, followed Shearer's body guards. Derek had been told about the pair, although he had, of course, never seen them.
As the two men moved into the light of the room Derek froze. They were similar in appearance: not tall, perhaps two inches shorter than Shearer; broad and thickly muscled, the men gave the general impression of two rhinoceroses, unpredictably dangerous, with short vicious tempers. When their eyes stopped on him for a moment, Derek nearly panicked. But their surveillance of the room continued and he released his pent-up breath.
He had recognized them, but, of course, they knew nothing of his activities of that afternoon. If they had, their reaction would have been very different, for they were the pair who had murdered the Oriental girl.
His hand was trembling so badly that Derek had to set his drink down before he spilled it. Turning his back to the room, he tried to compose himself. No one knew what he knew and he had no reason to be nervous. The argument sounded good but his body wasn't convinced.
Joyce came over to him and lead him into dinner. Mr. Shearer sat at the head of the table, with Miss Ku on his left and Milinda to his right. Garrett sat next to Ku Ti and Derek sat next to Milinda, with Joyce next to him and opposite Toy. The guards sat opposite each other at the far end of the table. The distance was too short for Derek.
The conversation during the excellent meal was light. For the most part, Mr. Shearer dominated, speaking to Ku Ti in her native tongue. The That language, if that's what it was, seemed natural to him as if it were, indeed, his own native language. Milinda and Garrett seemed at ease and spoke to Ku Ti and Shearer in English as well as between themselves. Toy occasionally joined them but the rest of the table, including Derek, never said more than three words apiece.
The wine had a deceptively mild flavor which hid its potency. His throat dry, Derek drank heavily. The Klinemens kept the level in his glass always within a half-inch of the top.
After the meal, Mr. Shearer requested that Miss Ku Ti and Garrett join him in the study for tea. Derek gathered that the rest of the party was dismissed. Pushing back his chair and standing, he had to grab the table to keep from falling. The whole room tilted and spun in mad circles adding to his dizziness and nausea.
"What's the matter?" Toy asked, coming up to him.
For a long moment, Derek was unable to answer, having to swallow rapidly. "I don't know. I think I'm sick." His voice was weak and shaky.
Toy smiled, her brown eyes laughing. "Too much wine." She slipped a steadying arm around his shoulders and lead him towards the terrace doors. "A little fresh air might help."
The cool sat air did seem to clear his head a bit. Toy helped him to a lounge where he laid. The night was a soothing cobalt blue pricked with sparkling diamonds. Derek closed his eyes and sucked the cool air in through his nose.
Toy perched on the edge of the chaise lounge. "You know what the perfect dessert would be? To strip off our clothes and fuck right here on the terrace."
Derek tried to sit up to remove his jacket but the world spiraled into a sickening dive again. Groaning, he collapsed.
"What?" Toy asked. "You can't be that sick. Your big cock shouldn't ever run dry." She unzipped his trousers and reached inside to pull his flaccid prick out into the cool night air. She fondled it, rolling it from one hand to the other. The male-flesh, even unaroused, was very provocative. Some black boys had big pricks yet she had never seen one to equal this. And it was that beautiful, exciting white.
As she massaged the organ systematically, Derek mumbled something about being sorry, but she paid him no mind. The dumb whitey was blasted out of his mind. She didn't care; she had his beautiful cock. What she really wanted was to see that mighty white spear disappearing between the lips of her chocolate cunt. That would really be beautiful. Tomorrow she would get to him early-"Hey, you dumb cock, you come around and see me tomorrow, you hear?"
The light and the pain in his head woke Derek. After a few moments, the patterns of light and shadow began to take shape. The sunlight even filtered through the palms which surrounded his bungalow was bright, indicating that it was late in the day. Naked, he was in his bed, covered by a single sheet. He had a thundering headache and his stomach riled uneasily. The hot, humid air moved sluggishly through the louvered glass of his bedroom windows and tried to stir the stale heat of the room. He remembered nothing of how he had gotten to his room. '
Slowly, he levered himself up. But it wasn't slowly enough. His stomach rebelled, causing him to make a staggering run for the bathroom to vomit. He retched until his body glistened with cold sweat and his gut ached from the spasms and there was nothing more to come up.
He tried to move to the sink but the effort of standing erect produced swirling dots which blacked out his vision.
The cold wet compress on his face and forehead revived him. He opened his eyes to find Milinda, dressed only in her brown tan and reddish-blonde hair, kneeling over him. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Better-I think."
"What's the matter? Too much wine?"
Derek shook his head ever so slightly. "Joyce gave me some dope last night. I think it must have been bad."
"That damn junkie," hissed Milinda. "There was nothing wrong with the quality of that dope, we handle only the best. It's just too damn potent. Listen, Joyce is fast heading for a bad end and if you're smart, you'll stay away from her and her junk. You get paid to perform, not to be sick."
Derek managed to sit up. "It wasn't my idea." His stomach was feeling better now, but he had a sore spot on the back of his head when he touched it.
"You hit it when you fell," Milinda said.
"Oh" He looked up at her. "How do you know?"
"I saw you fall."
"You were here?"
"No, on the monitors." She nodded towards the spot where the corners of the room and ceiling converged. A small semi-sphere nested in the triangular area. Derek had noticed the smoky-white bubbles scattered around the area but hadn't really thought about them.
"Monitors? You mean television cameras?"
"The same. They're special color television cameras which Shearer is installing in some of his places. He's got them in here and in San Francisco, so he can enjoy his 'pets' better."
Holding on to the lip of the sink, Derek got to his feet. "You mean he watches us all the time?"
"Only when and if he chooses. The system is very elaborate. A computer controls the monitoring. Remember this?" She touched the thick gold band which had replaced his watch on his left wrist. "It's a special solid state, waterproof transceiver which identifies you for the computer. When you're within range of one of the cameras, which is most of the time, your activities are filmed. Video taped, actually. Later the daily reels are flash fed through a machine which stores them on a tiny card about three by five inches. If Mr. Shearer wants to relive some of your recent activities, he need only order the computer to spit up the proper chip. Ingenious, huh?"
"Yeah, very." Derek had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with his sickness. He held up his left wrist. "What's the range on this?"
"They activate the cameras whenever you are within visual range. Listen, are you feeling better? Good, because I've got to run. We will be leaving here later tomorrow or early the next day, so get yourself pulled together."
"With Mr. Shearer?"
"No, he left immediately after dinner last night."
Derek watched the slow, muscular grinding motion of the sculptured haunches as Milinda padded out of the bathroom, through the cabin and down the front steps. He even felt a trickle of excitement oozing through his abused body. The real surprise had been her almost human concern for his welfare.
He looked at the gold bracelet. The band, though flexible, appeared to be a single piece. It circled his wrist snuggly and he knew from past experiments that there was no way of removing it, short of cutting the tightly interconnected links.
The sinking feeling returned. If the computer was able to record his presence on top of the headland and if Shearer or his guards found out about it-
After a long cold shower, Derek took a rolled up grass mat, several joints and trudged over the hot sand to the north headland. There, in the shadow of the lava wall, he stretched out on the mat.
The more he learned of Shearer's fascist organization, the sorrier he was that he had been seduced into believing that this was going to be the early realization of his nearly life-long dream. He swore to himself. He had blown Oregon to get out of the hassle his father was creating. All he wanted was some place peaceful to wait until his twenty-seventh birth date. Then the whole world could take a flying leap. The promise of paradise and pussy had turned into a nightmare of murder and danger. Over the years, his search for a quiet back eddy had mixed him up with some weird people including junkies, pushers, whores and a freaked-out commune in Northern California. But none had been as sinister as Shearer and his crowd.
Man, all he wanted was to be left alone. Rolling onto his stomach, he sat a lighted match to a joint and inhaled deeply. Why couldn't people just leave him alone?
The smoke of the joint was like the strong hands of a masseur, relaxing the tight muscles of his body. After resting his head on his arms for a few minutes, he lit a second joint.
He tried to analyze his situation. His chances of escape were small, even if he weren't wearing the tattle-tale bracelet. He knew that he was some place in the Hawaiian Islands but that was all. He had come over on a commercial jet by himself. They would, however, be leaving in a group. But at the airport, in the confusion of the noise and crowds, he might have a chance of slipping away. He might.
In the meantime, he sucked a last toke from the roach and tossed the butt away, he would do what he did best: Wait. He laid his head on his arms again. Yes, just wait.
A fine spray of sand, kicked up by a sudden puff of wind, fell across his body, awakening him. Slowly he sat up. He hadn't meant to sleep, but he did feel better for the couple of hours rest.
The beach and the terrace were deserted. He shuddered with the realization that just beyond the distance headland lay the soggy corpse of what had once been a beautiful girl. The sight of the dead girl had moved him more than he cared to admit. It was such an ungodly waste.
And the people who were responsible for that horror were the very same ones he worked for and they were right here!
No, his paranoia was running away with him again. Milinda had said that Shearer had left and his guards always traveled with him. If that was so, then he was relatively safe-for the moment.
His stomach had settled. Now, it felt very empty. He would go up to the villa for some food and then if nobody was around, he would sneak back to the other cove. He just couldn't leave that girl floating in the surf. He would dig a grave and mark it so the police would have the evidence if and when he got the chance to tell his story.
When he returned from his lunch at the villa to the coco palm grove which shaded his cabana, Derek found Garrett, Milinda and Ku Ti sitting at the base of one of the trees.
"Hi, Derek," Milinda called. "Come join us."
They, all three, were as naked as he was. Ku Ti shared a grass mat with Milinda. She looked petite and fragile next to the tall, athletic Milinda. Ku Ti glanced at him, her head high with sense of pride and dignity. Her almond eyes flicked over him, pausing for a moment on his genitals, then she turned quickly to watch the surf. She looked something like a fawn investigating an unfamiliar woodland, almost on tiptoe, ready for instant flight.
A slight sea breeze had lifted and swayed the giant fronds of the palms. Ku Ti had a large towel draped around her waist and as Derek approached, she drew her slender, lithe legs under its protective covering. Her golden skin was mottled by the brilliant tropical sunlight which percolated through the overhead canopy of green. Her black hair caught the momentary shafts of sunlight and shone with glossy life. It was cut in a straight line across her forehead making her innocent, young face round. The smooth, clean skinned simplicity of her features made her strikingly beautiful. Her breasts were more fully developed than those of the average Oriental. The quick rise and fall of the round breasts was the only indication that she wasn't as calm and as cool as she pretended.
"You remember Derek Wakefield, don't you, Ku Ti?" Milinda asked as she rose with the grace of a jungle cat, all lean, flowing muscles.
When Ku Ti turned back to acknowledge Derek, her eyes fastened on his. Derek sensed a reluctance on her part to look at his naked body. He wondered why, certainly he wasn't ugly. He had no scars, no deformities. The long heavy snake of his cock brushed against his thighs as he stepped forward. Was she afraid of his prick? While it was of generous stature, it could hardly qualify as a deformity.
Ku Ti nodded slightly. "Yes, certainly," she said. Her voice was young, but carried a certain authority as if she was used to talking down to people or ordering others around. "Hello, Mr. Wakefield."
"Hi."
Milinda extended a hand to Garrett who was sitting cross-legged on a mat of his own. "We're going swimming," she announced. "Do you want to join us, Ku Ti?" Accepting her hand, Garrett rose to his feet, his cock flaccid and loose in the heat, stretching out to nearly its full length. Ku Ti took no pains to avoid the sight of his body or his genitals.
"No?" Milinda said. "Perhaps, Derek will keep you company then and the two of you can get better acquainted." She lead Garrett down the beach towards the surf.
Derek sank onto Garrett's mat, adopting a cross-legged pose and putting his hands in his lap, thus hiding, for the most part, his sex organs.
"Miss O'Donnell, I believe, mentioned that you had just arrived here," Ku Ti said. Her English was colored by the slight lyrical accent which gave the words a sing-song sound.
"Yes, just a couple of days ago."
"Do you like working for Mr. Shearer?" Both the temperature and the humidity stood better than 95. A minute film of perspiration made Ku Ti's golden skin glow.
"Well, I haven't really started yet." Derek couldn't tear his eyes off the small, perfectly shaped bubbles of her breasts, each capped with a large, dark nipple. He loved large, dark nipples. He wished she would remove the towel so he could see her thighs. The allure of her delicate body added heat to his already hot blood. Lengthening and stiffening under his hands, his prick plowed its head across the coarse weave of the grass mat, trying to rise. He spread his fingers in an attempt to keep his erection hidden.
"Oh. I see. Then you don't know Mr. Shearer very well?" A little knot of worry wrinkled Ku Ti's forehead momentarily.
"No, I met him for the first time last night. As a matter-of-fact, I don't really know anyone very well."
"Ah."
They sat in an awkward silence. Ku Ti rarely looked at Derek and when she did, her eyes always sought his. After fleeing contact, she would glance down at the mat in front of her. Derek's vital sexual instincts had his prick fully erect. He wondered if his lust registered in his face as much as at his loins.
He cleared his throat. "I gather that you're a friend of Mr. Shearer's here on vacation."
The bright black eyes met his. "Actually, Mr. Shearer is an acquaintance of my father's. We have accepted Mr. Shearer's invitation for a long weekend. At the last minute, however, some urgent matters of state came up and my father has been delayed. He should be here tomorrow."
"Your father works for the government?"
"Yes. He is what you would call the governor of the small province of Benjai."
"Oh." Though Ku Ti didn't elaborate, it was clear enough to Derek that her father was a man of importance and that her own position in her society must be of no small consequence. No wonder she spoke with authority. She probably had servants waiting on her hand and foot.
He tried to guess why she would be willing to mingle with the hired help, as it were, and why she would appear in public naked. He let his eyes slide over her body again, caressing every visible inch of the smooth skin.
"You are most beautiful," he said without thinking.
She looked up sharply, sudden color highlighting her cheeks.
Derek swallowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect. It-it just slipped out."
The hard points of fire within her eyes softened and a tiny smile curved her inviting lips.
"Really, I'm sorry. Maybe I should be going." Derek started to rise, but his efforts to hide his erect prick kept him seated. "Ahh-" He squirmed around, trying to figure some way to stand without exposing himself. Where he had been damp from the heat before, now sweat poured off him. He could feel it drip from his armpits, trickle down his ribs and chest and run into his groin.
Ku Ti's look became one of amusement and beguilement. "Please, Mr. Wakefield, stay. I am not offended by your comment. We are not quite as open in our society as yours." Her small hand swept towards the ocean where Garrett's and Milinda's naked bodies flashed gold in the white surf. "But, I prefer many of the Westerner's ways and I like your sincerity."
Feeling less flustered, Derek settled himself more securely. "Thank you, Miss-Ah"
"Please call me Ku Ti, Mr. Wakefield."
He smiled. "Only if you call me Derek."
"My pleasure."
"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, but surely many men have told you how lovely you are."
Her smile was a large and genuine pleasure this time. She made no attempt to hide it. "You are most gracious, Derek. In fact, no one has flattered me with so many kind words recently. Thank you."
This time it was Derek's turn to be embarrassed. He mumbled an apology for his Western manners and tried desperately to think of another topic of conversation.
"Would you like to go for a swim now?" he asked.
"It is hot, perhaps we should." She rose gracefully, the large towel draped over one arm in such a fashion that it hid most of her body. Derek jumped up to be polite, only afterwards realizing that his prick was still erect. Pretending as if she hadn't noticed, Ku Ti turned quickly and walked down towards the surf. Derek allowed her a couple of yards lead before following. The strain of the erection was beginning to make his balls ache. He was hopeful that the cool water would relax his cock. At least, it would hide it.
Ku Ti dropped her towel at the water's edge and waded carefully, elegantly into the ocean. Derek chose a spot far enough away so as not to splash the pretty Asian and dove in.
He surfaced after a long underwater swim and doubled back until he was in water about mid-chest deep. Surprisingly, Ku Ti came right over to him. "The water is very nice, like a bath," she said, appearing more relaxed than previously.
"Like a bath," Derek echoed. "Oh yeah, a bath. like a Japanese bath, where men and women bathe together," he said, getting the point. She had been uncomfortable sitting on the beach with a naked man, but in the water the situation was easier to accept.
"Yes," she said with a nod.
Her veneer of sophistication, at least, in sexual matters was tissue thin. This made Derek more comfortable in her presence. She was such an extremely beautiful girl and of foreign parentage and the daughter of an important government official that Derek had felt a bit shy around her. Her quiet, graceful manners made it difficult for him to contain his exuberant lust, made him seem clumsy.
"It is more pleasant, is it not?"
"Yes," Derek agreed. His erection had melted, loosening the tightness in his loins and the cool water had refreshed his sweaty body.
The sea breeze grew stronger as they swam. Garrett and Milinda joined them. A thick layer of clouds, which had hovered over the horizon most of the afternoon, steadily approached the island. After nearly an hour of vigorous exercise, mostly on the part of the two boys, the naked foursome splashed ashore.
"Oh, I am exhausted," sighed Ku Ti. Her black hair, despite her best efforts had become wet and now hung in thick strands.
"Perhaps, you would like to return to your room to rest until dinner?" Milinda asked.
"Yes, I think that would be best." Her slightly slanted eyes shifted from Milinda to Garrett and finally rested on Derek. He stood there, breathing deeply as the result of the last race which he had won. The later afternoon sun reflected in the droplets of salt water which clung to his lean body and sparkled like fiery diamonds on his skin. This time, Ku Ti made no secret of the fact that she was frankly appraising him.
With a slight bow, she thanked them and headed up the sand towards the villa, the big beach towel wrapped around her.
"You want to come to dinner?" Milinda asked Derek.
"I don't know. Do you think I should?"
"She seems to like you and after all your job is to entertain."
Derek grinned a bit sheepishly, but in truth, he was glad for the invitation. It meant more time with Ku Ti and he liked that.
"Let's say eight-thirty and informal dress," Milinda said, dismissing him.
Derek returned to his cabana and waited for an hour, hoping by that time everyone would either be asleep or otherwise engaged. He rose from the bed where he had been resting and opened the door as if going into the short hallway. Instead, working quietly behind the open door which shielded him from the television camera, he unlatched the screen and pushed it open. The window, which was on the opposite side of the house from the villa, faced the southern headland. Hanging onto the window ledge, he lowered himself the six feet to the ground. He crouched among the shrubs, listening. He could hear the surf, the wind in the palms and the drone of an occasional insect, but nothing that sounded as if it were made by a person. The humid air was hot and heavy. Not even the salt-laden breeze offered any coolness.
Derek could do nothing about the tattle-tale bracelet. As far as he knew, the last outside monitoring camera was high up a palm tree on the other side of his cabin. If the electronic watchdog could trace his movements to the far side of the headland, he was as good as dead. A second trip wouldn't matter.
But if it could, why wasn't he dead now?
Keeping low, he scruttered across a ten foot wide patch of bare sand and sunlight to the dark shadows at the base of the lava cliffs. Half-expecting a challenge, he waited.
Nothing happened.
From his new position, he could see a wide sweep of the empty beach. The lowering sun glowed behind the thin gauze of clouds, which obscured all but a tiny patch of blue sky directly overhead.
Snaking through the shadows, Derek crawled along the cliff and slipped into the white foam of the quiet surf. He kept his head low in the water and breast stroked until he had rounded the tip of the jutting headland, then with a powerful overhand crawl, he quickly traversed the short distance to the mouth of the cove.
As he swam carefully to the water's edge, his stomach knotted with tension. The cove was only about two blocks long. Wading, he covered the distance quickly and found no body. The sun coppered the thin, low clouds and the whole world turned gold. He walked up onto the dry sand, his nude, wet body chilled by the strong wind. Fat raindrops started to fall from the clouds, feeling warmer than the air.
His thorough search of the crescent beach required nearly twenty minutes and revealed nothing. The body wasn't lodged under any of the bushes or wrapped around any of the bases of the palms. Nor, was there any sign of a grave. He stood with the surf swirling around his calves, shielding his eyes from the now heavy rain to scan the waters immediately offshore for the body.
In a way, he felt cheated. With the automatic equipment recording his movements, he had surmised that his first visit to the cove had gone unnoticed simply because no one had reviewed the tapes. Now, he had risked a second trip, but for nothing. He dove into the ocean and headed back to his cabin.
Still, he had a chance. If Shearer remained ignorant of his first trip, he could hardly object to his visit to an empty cove.
As Derek climbed the steps to the porch of his cabana, Garrett Justin materialized out of one of the dark shadows. Wearing only a pair of tight fitting white ducks, which made his tanned body a striking bronze by comparison, he looked very handsome and muscular. His eyes were a smoldering gray and his mouth was grimly set. "Where have you been, lover-boy?" His voice carried the sharp edge of anger.
"Ah, swimming."
"In this weather?"
"What does the rain matter? AH water is wet." Derek pushed past the tall figure and headed for the bathroom.
Garrett followed and watched while Derek adjusted the shower temperature and stepped into the tub. When he started to pull the plastic shower curtain closed, Garrett's strong hand caught his wrist. "Leave it." Derek released the curtain. Quickly, he scrubbed the salt from his body.
Stepping from the tub, Derek grabbed a towel. "Was there something you wanted?" The intense stare was making him nervous.
"In a way." Garrett pulled the towel from Derek's hands and started drying him. Derek didn't appreciate the attention he was receiving, but he didn't want to anger Garrett farther.
Garrett's hands were strong and rough as he ran the towel over Derek's body, slowly sinking to his knees as he worked his way down the lean torso. He was no less gentle as he stripped the foreskin back and toweled Derek's naked glans, then massaged his balls. Quickly he wiped off the young man's legs and then dropped the towel.
Before Derek could move away, Garrett grabbed his genitals, one hand wrapped around the base of Derek's prick and the other tight about the youth's balls. He began to squeeze and felt Derek stiffen under the growing pain. "Where did you go?" he demanded.
"Jesus! What are you doing" Derek grabbed Garrett's wrists, but he couldn't break the hold without castrating himself. "Where did you go."
"I told you. Swimming."
"Where?" demanded Garrett.
Derek cried out in sharp agony. "The cove south of the headland."
"Why?"
"Please, you're hurting me!"
"Answer my question!"
"No reason, just some place to swim to."
"You sure you weren't trying to escape?"
Derek cried out again. His nuts felt as if they were being crushed. "Yes, yes! Please, you're hurting." His body was taut with pain and glistened with cold sweat.
The tight fist relaxed, but only slightly. "Did you find anything of interest? No? Sorry you made the trip."
"Yes," gasped Derek.
The pressure lessened again. "When you didn't show up on the monitors, Milinda sent me over to remind you that your contract requires you to follow orders. From now on, don't leave the areas covered by the monitors without permission. And I assure you that any attempts to leave before your contract date is up will be dealt with harshly.
"Our guest, Ku Ti, seems to like you. You are to do everything to encourage her, to make her fall in love with you. Do I make myself clear"
Wincing under another onslaught of pain, Derek cried, "Jesus, yes!"
"That was supposed to be my job, you little bastard. So you better make damn sure you succeed or you'll be minus your nuts, understand?"
"Yes."
The vise-like grip loosened. Derek sucked in a deep breath. Still on his knees, Garrett's hands remained on Derek's genitals. "Why did you do that?" Derek asked. "Why did you hurt me?"
"To make sure you understood the importance of what I said. Mr. Shearer doesn't tolerate failure." Garrett's smile was one of genuine pleasure.
"I thought we were friends?"
"We are." Garrett's touch was now feather-light as he began massaging Derek's balls and stroking his prick. Derek quickly pulled away, glaring. Garrett smiled. "Okay, lover, but I'm a much nicer friend than I am an enemy." He reached for the door. "Don't be late for dinner."
Alone, Derek let out a long sigh. He took another shower, allowing the warm water to play softly on his tender sex organs. Once dried, he sat naked and cross-legged in the middle of his double bed, rolled and smoked two fat joints.
When he tried to dress, he was so spaced out that he could barely coordinate his efforts to pull on a pair of light-weight gray slacks and a pale blue shirt, open at the collar.
The rain had stopped and the sand was mostly dry as he shuffled along under the clearing sky. Smiling, he sauntered up to the villa and into the sitting room. Ku Ti, Milinda and Garrett were seated on the long, low white leather couch, sipping elaborate tropical fruit cocktails.
"Glad you could make it," Milinda said, her tone caustic. Derek, still grinning, executed a deep bow. "My pleasure, madam."
Klineman slipped quietly into the room. "A drink, sir?"
"Sure," Derek said. "Some of whatever they're having."
Klineman had the drink in his hand in record time. He tasted it and found it good. He approached Ku Ti, who was wearing an embroidered, white silk mini-cheongsam, slit high up on the thigh. He admired her trim legs with pure animal pleasure. Their golden color was due not to exposure to the sun, but to the fortunate blending of racial strains, which combined the finest features of East and West.
"You're looking beautiful as usual, Princess," Derek said, squeezing down between Milinda and the object of his attention. Ku Ti smiled but said nothing.
"I see you had a little trouble dressing yourself," Milinda said, pointing to his bare, sandy feet.
Derek giggled. "No, not really. You did say it was informal."
"Well, at least you were able to find your pants." Milinda stood "Klineman!" she yelled. "We're eating."
Derek sat opposite the quiet, beguiling face of Ku Ti, adding little to the sparse conversation. He ate lightly but drank heavily. Every time Ku Ti would look at him, he would smile and wink. He was so high on pot, alcohol and lust, that he had little desire to do anything but lay the alluring, petite Eurasian. His toes ventured across the carpet to caress her bare legs. The first time, she quickly pulled them back out of his reach. By the end of the meal, however, her legs remained where he could run his toes along the soft curves of her calves.
From Ku Ti's brief, succinct replies to Milinda's rather personal questions, Derek learned that the story she had told him earlier wasn't quite true. Her father was obviously a high government official, at least in his own province, but her visit to Shearer's pleasure dome did not have his sanction. In fact, he had opposed it strongly, refusing to allow his only daughter to visit a man, whom he hardly knew and didn't trust. After a quiet yet vigorous discussion, Ku Ti had bowed and left the room. Naturally, her father believed her to have capitulated. Instead, she ordered her hand maiden to pack a small suitcase and the two girls sped to the airport before Governor Lia learned what they were up to.
"I do not know," Ku Ti said, her voice soft, but her stare at Milinda intense, "why Su Linh left without speaking to me."
Milinda shrugged. "She must have had a good reason. Maybe she was afraid of what your father would do to her."
"Perhaps." Ku Ti sounded unconvinced.
They adjourned to the sitting room for some iced tea. Derek handed a tall glass to Ku Ti and sat next to her on the small love seat. When their drinks were half-gone and the conversation seemed to have dried up, he asked her if she would like to go for a walk in the moonlight. To his surprise and delight, she accepted. He lead her through the sliding glass doors. At the edge of the terrace, she abandoned her sandals to go barefooted like Derek.
He took her small fragile hand again and they waded through the cool sand towards the surf. The strong wind of late afternoon had blown the clouds to tatters, leaving a mostly clear sky. Against this indigo-blue, the stars burned brightly. The moon, only a thin slice of its last quarter, still drifted low on the horizon.
"Thank you for coming with me," Derek said. "It is I who must thank you. I needed-needed some fresh air."
Derek smiled. The cold surf washed over their feet. Turning south, they headed down towards Derek's cabin. "Do you like these people?" Ku Ti asked.
Derek looked at her, trying to guess the reason for her inquiry. Considering the tactics that both Milinda and Garrett seemed fond of using, he was determined to say nothing against them. They might well be in range of a monitor. "I've only been here a few days and hardly know anyone."
Ku Ti considered his evasive answer for a few seconds. "Perhaps, that was an inappropriate question."
"Perhaps."
They were half-way between the villa and Derek's cabin. While each cabana contained monitors and some were attached to palms scattered about the estate, this point on the beach was about as far away from them as he could get.
He stopped Ku Ti and for a long moment looked into her dark eyes. She seemed to know what his next move was going to be and her eyes closed. Holding her carefully as if she were a china doll, he kissed her. The passionate contact of her lips galvanized him, "I've been longing to do that since the first time I saw you," he said.
"Do you find me so attractive?"
"Yes, you're very lovely."
"But I'm not at all like the Western girls."
"You have a special beauty all your own." He raised one of her small hands to his lips. "The West has a lot it can learn from the East."
"You are very kind."
"No, just truthful."
This time she kissed him and it carried with it all the passion of a mature woman. He wrapped her in his arms and held her close for a long time. When they separated this time, she had lost the icy edge of her serene dignity. "You are a most unusual young man," she said.
"No, you are the unusual one. Your cool beauty really turns me on."
"Are you Americans always so frank?"
Derek bit his lower lip. "I sometimes speak before I think, but don't you think honesty is best?"
Ku Ti took his hand and lead him down the beach for several steps before turning to face him again. "Yes, I do. I would like to have some one to speak openly to. May I do that with you? May I consider you my friend?"
Derek nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
"I don't trust Miss O'Donnell or Mr. Justin. Does that shock you?"
Glancing around, Derek was reasonably sure they were still out of range of the cameras. "No, but why do you say that?"
"Your comment just a moment ago made it clear to me. I feel that they aren't being honest with me. Sometimes, I can sense these things."
Ku Ti stared at her feet and turned partially away from Derek. "I have a confession," she said in a very small voice. "What I told you earlier today about my father coming here isn't exactly true."
"So I gathered from the dinner conversation."
"Aren't you surprised?"
"I haven't really thought about it."
Ku Ti bowed her head again. "For someone of my age to question her father or to disobey him is virtually unheard of in my country. I know now that I made a foolish decision, but I felt that I just couldn't pass up this oppostunity to sample the Western World. I have never been out of my homeland before."
Thinking of the trouble that his own father had caused him, Derek nodded. "There comes a time when you have to break free. You have to be your own person."
"You sound as if you speak from personal experience."
"I do."
Ku Ti glanced back at the villa. "Can we go somewhere to talk? Isn't your cabin close?"
"Yes, but we can't go there. All of the buildings are equipped with television cameras and microphones. You see this bracelet?"
"Yes, I've noticed that both Miss O'Donnell and Mr. Justin wear them also."
"We all do. It's a device for keeping track of us. When I'm close to a monitoring camera, this thing activates it."
"Can't you turn it off or remove it?"
Derek tugged at the thick gold band which resembled an overgrown name bracelet. "I tried to break the links here on the back once, but only bruised my arm."
"Maybe you could destroy its ability to function."
"Maybe." Derek had an idea. "Come on, let's go to the cabin. When we get inside don't mention the bracelet and I'll see what I can do."
As they entered the bedroom, Derek flicked his eyes toward the small sphere in the corner without turning his head in that direction. Ku Ti followed his glance. "Oh yes, I see what you mean. Ah, it is a nice bed," she ad-libbed to cover her acknowledgement.
"Why don't you just relax for a moment while I pop into the bathroom. I won't be a minute."
She nodded and sat on the corner of the double bed. In the bathroom, Derek left the door standing wide because it blocked the view of the camera.
The links which held the thick bracelet to his arm were the interwoven type which exposed none of the fastening pins which he might have tried to cut. The play wasn't sufficient to flip the band inside out to reveal the bottom plate. He could, however, pry the curved piece of seemingly solid metal up for a quick peek at its underside. A nearly invisible seam at the bottom edge was just detectable.
He found a nail file, but its tip was too blunt. Remembering a tiny pen knife tucked in his shaving kit, he tried that. The small blade could be forced into the seam. He had to be quite careful because his hands were sweaty and if the knife slipped he would cut himself. He forced the steel as far into the seam as he could and then slowly twisted the blade. The knife, of course, forced its way back out of the groove, but the crack had grown minutely wider. Moving the blade just a hair to the right, he tried again.
He worked as fast as his nervous fingers would allow, for he was sure the cameras were running. He nicked himself several times. Finally after ten minutes, his hands were shaking badly and the knife slipped altogether drawing a bloody line across the pale skin of his wrist which had been hidden from the sun under the bracelet. He swore.
The seam was wider now but he was too nervous to risk any more time. Quickly, he stripped off his clothes, flushed the toilet, just for effect, and washed the blood off his arm. Stepping from behind the open door, he reached for a towel. The rack was directly below the bubble. He could hear the soft hum of electronic equipment. His wide-eyed reflection with its fear-shriveled prick surprised him when he caught glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. He tried to force a look of relaxation.
Ku Ti was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed when he stepped from the bathroom. "Come join me," she said.
Derek forced a smile. "Just let me get the lights." About four feet farther down the wall from the light switch, he noticed the gray panel door of the fuse box. He was struck with a new plan. Glancing from the panel back to Ku Ti, he tried to communicate his idea. She seemed to sense that he wanted her to do something to distract the camera. She started undoing her dress.
Derek eased open the panel and found a row of circuit breakers. Using the edge of his hand to cover all of them, he snapped them off. The sudden darkness seemed inky. Pressed flat against the wall, he slipped along it until he was under the monitor bubble again. He listened intently for several long seconds. It did not hum. The machine was powerless.
His pent-up breath escaped with an audible hiss as he began to relax. "It's okay now. they're off."
The unshuttered windows allowed a surprising amount of light to filter into the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he groped his way to the bed. There he found that Ku Ti had removed her dress and was huddled naked in the middle of the bed.
"Derek, I do not like this place. Something about it seems very sinister."
Derek felt the same way, but slipping onto the bed, he tried to comfort her. "Don't worry, you're safe here with me."
She was trembling and warm tears splashed on his bare shoulder. "I'm so sorry I came," she said.
"I'm not," Derek said. "I'd hate to have missed the opportunity of meeting you. Besides, we'll be leaving here tomorrow or the next day and you can go quietly home."
"You will?"
"Yes, now just relax." He held her head gently between his hands and kissed the damp tears from her cheeks. His lips slid down to her tender mouth and she responded warmly. A sudden rush of sensations coursed down his torso converging in his loins, flooding his prick with vigorous growth and firing it with an urgent need for immediate tactile stimulation. The roaring currents of desire swirled and surged throughout his body. He was more excited than he had ever been, yet, at the same time, he felt strangely shy, embarrassed by his almost uncontrollable passion for this girl.
As they continued to kiss, he stroked her soft, trembling body. Slowly as she relaxed under his caresses, they stretched out on the bed, their naked bodies pressed firmly together.
Her hands, no longer clinging around his neck, began sliding over his body, exciting him farther. She worked one hand along his side and then down to knead his buttocks. Then she forced her hand between their bodies where she fondled his aroused prick. "Will you make love to me, Derek?"
Breathing heavily, Derek looked into her dark eyes, the pale moonlight causing tiny sparks to dance in their depths. Her timid, fragile body had stirred a deep passion in him. At this moment, he desired her more than life itself. Yet, he would do nothing to hurt her. If she didn't want him sexually, somehow, he would find the strength to obey her wish. "If you would like me to, yes."
"Don't you want me?"
"More than anything in the world."
"Then I want it too. But, please be careful." She patted his genitals. "You are very virile and you might hurt me."
"No, my love. I'll never do anything to harm you."
Her small, lithe body was warm and soft against his skin. While his tongue probed and fenced with hers, his hands caressed every inch of her supple body, arousing her until she was panting as heavily as he was. Then his lips slid down her graceful neck and over the delicate mounts of her small breasts. He tongued the thin skin of the nipples until each grew taut and erect. Her waist was so tiny that he was sure he could encircle it with his hands. Instead, he lavished her navel with kisses, then slipped down between her legs.
She opened her thighs to him and he slid his mouth over the small swell of her pussy. She had only a slight sprinkling of short, curly pubic hair. He kissed the lips of her cunt, then slowly licked the slot. Ku Ti whimpered softly, her fingers twined in his black curls. Thrusting the tip of his tongue deep between the cunt lips, he found the swelling node of her clitoris. As the feather caresses of his tongue concentrated on this sensitive spot, she began muttering in her native language and her whole body began to tremble.
Her pleasure and excitement was his. The magical energies of sex had cast its most potent spell. Even though his body burned with an intense need for a gushing climax, his main concern was in giving pleasure to this girl. He wanted to fuck her more than any girl he had ever met, but not in the quick, almost brutal manner he usually took females, but in a slow loving way that would last forever.
His prick, erect seemingly to the point of bursting, was trapped between his body and the bed. As he tongued, kissed and sucked Ku Ti towards an orgasm, he began to rock his own hips, almost reflectively; the rough friction of the blanket igniting flashes of pure pleasure along his phallus.
Ku Ti pulled at his hair sharply and cried out as if in pain. But it wasn't pain she was experiencing, it was the white-hot flush of an orgasm. Derek grinned out of pride and happiness for having created this intense moment of pleasure for her. He had never felt this way before, receiving more pleasure from the girl's obvious enjoyment than from his own body.
He moved up alongside of her again as she lay catching her breath. "Derek, what have you done to me? Never have I felt anything like that."
"Then it was long overdue." He leaned across to kiss her tenderly. She encouraged him to slide over on top of her body. Any fear she might have had about making love with him was now gone. Spreading her legs wide, she reached down to guide his phallus between the damp lips of her cunt. Slowly with tiny back and forth movements, the depth of which increased only slightly with each new thrust, he pushed his prick into the slippery warmth of her snug little cunt.
When he had penetrated her fully, they lay very still. Ku Ti sighed with pleasure and he could feel her experimentally flexing the muscular walls of her cunt. After a time, he made minute thrusts, barely moving an inch in either direction. She liked this and started gently to thrust her pelvis upward to meet his. For long minutes, he kept to this pace, then ever so slowly, not wanting to rush, he began to increase the tempo of his thrusts.
Ku Ti stopped moving and her body grew taut with her efforts to hold off her approaching climax. Immediately Derek stopped, too. It was much too soon. He wasn't ready to abandon the delicious gliding sensation with which her lovely cunt engulfed his prick, his being. He needed more, much more. In fact, it seemed un likely that he could ever get enough in a single lifetime.
Taking great care, Derek rolled on to his back pulling Ku Ti with him. They remained deeply locked together. She could breathe easier without his weight pressing down on her. Her tiny body squirmed around with delight on his chest, pivoting around the hard rod of his erection. Ku Ti stretched up and planted a kiss on his lips. "I can not describe how I feel," she said. "Aside from the overwhelming sensation of you deep inside me, I also feel very warm and happy."
Derek squeezed her tightly. "So do I." They laid in one another's embrace for several pleasant minutes, then Derek gripped her by the hips and began small thrusts in and out of her cunt. She responded by pumping her pelvis energetically in opposition to his movements. They continued to work as their passions escalated. Pausing for one brief moment, they again reversed positions so Ku Ti was once again on the bottom and Derek was in the place of action, between her thighs.
Carefully, he held himself to a slow pace and moderate penetration. Ku Ti, moving with the universal rhythm of love, answered each of his loving entrees. His body hummed with wild emotion and boiled with passion. At first, she had been nearly as nervous as excited, now her nervousness evaporated, exposing a hot core of animal passion. Derek, his whole being invested in his plunging flesh, glided faster. His mouth hung open; his breath came in short, quick gasps. Ku Ti's clutched at his buttocks, drawing him closer, forcing him deeper with each new thrust.
As the sensations swelled and mushroomed, he was overwhelmed and drowned in the pure pleasure of Ku Ti's body. His passions burst forth, totally unleashed, forcing him into a series of steady full thrusts. He ejaculated with an explosive grunt. He had a moment of panic, fearing that he, in his intense excitement, had shot off too soon, stranding Ku Ti short of her fulfillment. She still thrust her hips upward with a furious intent. Then with a sharp cry, she sank her teeth into the muscles at the base of his neck and bucked upward in a final, violent effort before she came. The sheath surrounding Derek's plunging prick liquefied, quivered and rippled in ecstasy. Oblivious to everything except the urgent demands of his own glands. Derek drove his cock as deeply as he could for the final spraying thrusts.
Afterwards, they lay wrapped together in a total collapse, waiting for the shattered fragments of the real world to pull themselves back into some type of order. Derek's soft prick was still engulfed in the pleasurable constriction of her wonderful cunt. To ease the burden of his weight, he made to roll off her. But she turned with him so they ended up face to face on their sides, their sex organs still partially enmeshed.
"Ku Ti, I don't know what to say. That was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me."
She smiled, tiny tears of joy glistening across her face. "For me too. I felt very near the gods."
They clung together for several precious moments. Slowly the warm fog of ecstasy evaporated. Ku Ti, at last, sat up. "It is very late, I must return to my room."
Derek walked Ku Ti back to the villa. At the edge of the terrace, she picked up her sandals. "When Su Linh left, I felt very much alone. But after the special magic of this evening, I don't feel that way any longer. I know that I can count on you," Ku Ti said.
"Always."
They kissed and Ku Ti slipped into the dark villa.
Laying in a bed that now seemed strangely cold and empty, Derek waited for sleep. The euphoria of the night's lovemaking melted away, leaving a bone-deep fatigue which drugged him. Yet, some small point of discomfort nagged at him, trying to keep him awake long enough to acknowledge its existence.
Derek awoke from a nightmare in which a shadowy predatory creature relentlessly pursued him, seemingly with the intent of stealing his sex organs. With his eyes open now, he found himself bathed in a cold sweat. The morning light and heat which leaked around the shutters was still insubstantial, indicating that it was just shortly after dawn. He sat up, knowing what had been nagging him last night.
Ku Ti had been traveling with her servant, Su Linh. Shortly after the pair had arrived here, Su Linh disappeared. About the same time, Derek had seen a young Oriental girl murdered. He had witnessed Su Linh's murder! Whatever Shearer's purpose was in inviting Ku Ti into his private world, it wasn't in the girl's best interest.
Derek could no longer avoid the fact that his liaises-faire attitude towards life was now threatening both the lives of Ku Ti and himself. The trouble was, however, that he didn't really know what to do. His sole tactic for survival for so many years had simply been one of wait and see or, at best, running from any entanglements that he wasn't sure he could take any positive action against.
Yet, something had to be done.
THE GAMBLE
For the moment there seemed to be no direct threat to Ku Ti. Shearer's group was apparently content to have her in their claws. The most immediate danger lay in the possible video tape record of his witnessing the murder. If he could get to the control room and destroy the record chip which incriminated him, he might be able to buy a little time. It wasn't much of a plan, just a variation on his usual waiting game, but that was all he could think of.
In fact, it was virtually no plan at all, for he didn't even know where the control room was located. In the villa, naturally. But where?
Getting out of bed, he opened the shutters. Light flooded the room. If he went to the villa right now, before anyone was up he might be able to get in and out undetected. Standing nude in the airy sunlight which streamed through the open window, he felt extremely vulnerable and weaponless.
Nudity was, however, the uniform of the day, everyday. What little comfort and infinitesimal protection he could obtain from dressing would be more than off-set by the suspicion the clothes would arouse.
Besides, if he was caught prowling the hallways naked, he could always say he was trying to find one of the girl's rooms. The other night, Toy had been pestering him. He could use that as an excuse.
He was half-way across the sand to the villa, when he realized that the tattle-tale bracelet he was wearing would be making a perfect record of his assault on the control room. He ran back to the cabin and hiding behind the open bathroom door, attacked the seam again with the pen knife.
Half an hour and several scratches later, he finally managed to pry the back off. The insides were a maze of miniaturized solid state circuitry, which meant nothing to him. He did recognize the tiny silver disc of the power cell. He removed this, flushing it down the toilet. Then, for good measure, he filled the sink with water and submerged the bracelet. A strong jolt of stored energy from the capacitors nearly knocked him on his ass. Now, he was sure that he had ruined the gadget, but just to take no chances, he probed it with the pen knife, breaking off as many pieces as he could.
Satisfied at last he snapped the back into place again. The clock on the table next to the bed read just five-fifteen. He still might have a good chance carrying out his plan. Nobody seemed to stir much before noon.
Since the girl's rooms lay in the left wing, Derek chose the right side of the big house as being the most likely spot for the computer. Doors and short hallways lead off in several directions. His stomach was cramped into knots and his palms were slick with cold sweat as he quietly, carefully, pushed open the first door.
Behind the door lay the kitchen. He also found the library; a billiard room; a storage room; two bathrooms and a bedroom in which the Klinemans lay sleeping, both snoring heavily. The last two doors both opened into unused bedrooms. One was small with twin beds, probably for the guards. The other was a large suite with a big canopied bed and an ornate bathroom. This, he figured, was Shearer's. But nothing indicated a doorway to the control room.
The left wing was the smaller of the two and he quickly checked behind those doors he wasn't sure of. They were all innocent.
He was perplexed. Either Milinda was kidding him, which didn't seem likely, or the control room was well hidden.
He returned to Shearer's room. It seemed to be the most likely spot. He investigated a large walk-in coat closet next to the entrance to the suite. A single raincoat hung on the long rack. A strange garment for a tropical island, he thought. The back of the big closet was lost in gloom. He spotted a light switch on the inside wall next to the door and threw it on. Silently, the floor dropped away. Derek fell flat, fearing a trap.
Actually, the closet was a slow, evenly descending elevator and only its unexpectedness had unnerved him.
The elevator stopped at the end of a well lighted corridor. He crept forward on silent, bare feet. Some of the doors which lined the long hallway were unlocked. They revealed a weapon storage room, a standby generator and a room which looked unpleasantly like a modern torture chamber.
As he approached the end of the corridor, a panel slid away. The gush of air which hit him was several degrees cooler than that of the general house. Inside stood the gleaming metal and plastic units of the computer. The massive equipment hummed quietly to itself and occasionally a light winked on, changed color or flickered off.
A sloping-topped desk was obviously the console. Littered with numerous switches, lights and what resembled a typewriter keyboard, it looked hopelessly complex. Derek bit his lower lip in agony.
In an attempt to quiet his shaking body, he took ten deep breaths and then began a systematic appraisal of the controls. A row of half-dozen eight inch television screens across the top of the panel was for monitoring the cameras or watching playbacks of the videotapes. On one side of the typewriter and printout station was a section labeled programs. He knew that he didn't want to fool with that.
His father's company owned a computer and he had visited the basement complex on a couple of occasions to observe the machine in operation. As far as operating the equipment, no great skill was involved. It was the programming which required extensive knowledge, according to Bill Thompson. Thompson was the chief programmer for Wakefield Industries. He had shown Derek how to ask the computer questions and the rapid fire response which could be expected.
The right section of the console proved to be the videotape unit. A row of self-lighting push buttons were labeled with the names of all the staff who wore the gold bracelets. Derek found his own name easily. Above this were two other switches, one labeled live and the other marked storage. Next to the storage switches was a series of calibrated dials labeled year, month, day and time. Below the dials were a little chute ending in a tiny basket, a slot marked player input and one marked storage.
Derek stepped back and took a deep breath. It all seemed fairly easy. He went over the controls again, reviewing the sequence in which he would have to operate them.
As an initial exercise, he pushed his name button and the live switch. Nothing happened. Then he noticed an off/on power switch at the bottom of the panel. He turned this on. The buttons lit and the center monitoring screen glowed but produced no picture, only oscillating lines. Derek allowed himself a small smile, realizing that he had been successful in disarming his tattle-tale bracelet.
He dialed the appropriate day and time and switched to storage. The machine hummed, made mechanical sounds and spit a small rectangular wafer out the little chute. The wafer looked as if it might have been made of ceramic. Derek shrugged and shoved it into the 'input' slot. A second miniature screen fluttered into focus and he saw himself in living color and with sound. His nude image surprised him for it looked much more solid and muscular than he thought of himself. The scenes switched smoothly from camera to camera as he walked through the cabana and out on the beach. The last camera was equipped with a zoom lens which managed to follow him as he scaled up the lava cliff. The scene blanked for a moment then showed him coming down. It followed him to the surf and on out on to the sea until just before he rounded the end of the land.
While not revealing anything to the casual observer, anyone who knew the time of the murder would surely guess the reason behind Derek's actions. The chip couldn't stay. He pushed the stop button and the retrieve switch. The chip reappeared in the tiny hopper.
But what to do with it? He couldn't carry it out into the villa because he didn't have any place to hide it. For the moment, he sat it on the desk.
Out of curiosity, he dialed last night and switched back to storage. A new chip appeared and he fed this into the playback unit. The inane conversation of the evening before and his uncoordinated behavior embarrassed him. He advanced the time controls. The cameras followed he and Ku Ti out on the beach with a sensitivity which proved they were designed for low light level operation. He and Ku Ti were lost from view, however, before either of them said anything damning. The most provocative scene on the remainder of the chip was Ku Ti starting to undress just before he had cut the power. The rest of the chip was blank.
Wondering if there were any records of his twenty-four hours in San Francisco, he rejected the chip in the player, returned it to storage and selected the new date. To his surprise, a chip appeared.
Equally surprising, the tape started with his arrival at the Bay Tower penthouse to which Milinda and Garrett had rushed him immediately after landing at the San Francisco International Airport in the Cessna 310.
The private elevator sighed open directly in the foyer of the penthouse. Down three wide, shallow steps was an enormous living room with floor to ceiling windows and sliding glass doors at one end. The room wasn't cluttered, but the furnishings were obviously expensive if not custom-made. Oil paintings and charcoal drawings, most likely originals, hung on three of the walls.
"Very impressive," Derek said.
"It's some place to change clothes when we're in San Francisco," Milinda said with a shrug.
A phone buzzed and Milinda lifted the ivory instrument from the dark wood end table. "Yes? Right, doctor, I'll call it up."
Replacing the phone, she went to the elevator and pushed the call button. "Nobody can get up here unless they have a key, like the one we used, or unless we signal the elevator from this end.
"It's the doctor for your examination, come with me." She led Derek down a short hallway and into a sterile white room completely equipped as a medical examining room.
"I just had a physical, not a week ago. My health is fine," Derek said.
"That's what they all say. You'd be surprised how many have VD or a drug habit." Milinda smiled without warmth. "Standard procedure. All employees must have a complete examination. You don't have anything to hide, do you?"
"No, of course not."
"Then strip down," she ordered. "Ah, doctor, Derek is just getting ready. Okay, I'll leave you two at it then."
The white-haired doctor, who looked about seventy, was deeply tanned from a lifetime in the California sun. His thoroughly professional approach needed few words and he spoke those grudgingly.
"AH right, young man, if you will just sit here for a moment." Derek climbed back on the end of the examining table and watched the man repack his instruments and store the samples he had taken. "It will only be a moment," he said, carrying his kit out the door.
A minute? Derek asked himself. The doctor seemed to be finished and to have just left him sitting around naked.
The door opened again and Milinda entered, shedding her shiny yellow blouse and brown miniskirt as she approached. "What is this?" he asked.
"A reward for being such a good little boy."
Derek's eyes dwelt on the firm lines of her splendid brown body, remembering the session in Seattle. His prick was already arching up in anticipation of her touch.
"You really do have a marvelous hunk of meat here," she said.
"I know," he said and shivered with the pleasure as her fingertips caressed his phallus. Derek sat on the edge of the table, clenching and relaxing the large muscles of his buttocks, causing his erect prick to thrust slightly upward as Milinda fondled his prick and balls. Running her hands down his long shaft, one after the other, she stretched all of the loose skin taut, revealing the broad, purple crown of his cock. Then ever so slowly, she moistened her lips with the tip of her pink tongue and bent forward.
One hand cupped his balls and the other kept the prepuce skinned back. Her touch was exciting. Glancing down, he saw a small drop of milky fluid ooze from the tip of his prick. Milinda's pink tongue darted out, licking the glans. Then the soft, snug ring of her moist lips forced their way over the plum-taut glans as she sucked the end of his prick into the warm, wet confines of her mouth. Her tongue lavished the super-sensitive underside, causing waves of body-trembling pleasure.
Then she stood back, eyeing him. His prick was a swollen, angry red shaft, topped by a pulsing purple head, only partially covered by the foreskin. His scrotum was contracted so tightly that his balls were twin eggs glued to the thick base of his phallus. A feeling of power filled her, having the ability to cause this reaction in almost any male.
"Scoot up to the middle of the table, Tarzan," she said. As Derek did as he was told, she lept upon the table, straddling him like a giant. She obviously had a real thing about being on top. Derek didn't care. He could get off just as well that way as any other. She smiled mirthlessly down at him and came to her knees, one on either side of his head. "Kiss my cunt, boy!" she ordered.
Grabbing her thighs, Derek rammed his hardened tongue between her cunt lips. She smelt of sweat and female musk and tasted of salty sex. He licked rapidly, finding her clitoris and concentrating on it.
She slid down his body, grabbing his erect prick and guiding it up into her hot, wet cunt. Derek sighed with deep pleasure. Smoothly her hips pumped up and down, his cock penetrating deeply into the slippery tunnel with each stroke.
She stopped on an upstroke with just the tip of his prick buried in her cunt. Then, slowly, she straightened up, sitting back on his thighs, forcing the big prick, painfully constricted, fully inside her. "Now," she said, "I have a present for you. Garrett!"
Garrett entered the room, carrying a gold bracelet and what looked like an oversized pair of pliers. Derek craned his neck around to see what was going on.
"Since you're one of the family now, you get to wear one of the identification bracelets," Milinda said, stroking his chest.
"I don't think I need it right now."
"Why not?"
"I'm in the middle of something else," Derek said with a grin.
"Yes, but it doesn't involve your left wrist."
Garrett removed his wrist watch and strapped the inch wide band in its place. Then he attached the plier-shaped closing machine. It growled for a moment then clicked off. "How does that feel?" he asked.
"Great and the bracelet is okay, too."
"Right." Garrett made a thumb up sign and left.
Immediately Milinda was doing a rapid dance of love. Derek glanced at the bracelet and decided that Milinda had conned him into accepting the silly looking thing. Mentally, he started to do the multiplication tables, hoping to drain away the hot urgency which inflamed his loins. He also stopped the upward thrusts of his hips. Let the bitch work, he thought.
She humped away steadily until a sheen of sweat made her tanned skin glow. Suddenly she stopped. "All right, smart ass, if you don't want me to get off right now, you better start cooperating." Derek grinned and savagely bucked upward, ramming his big hard cock in as far as he could. Aside from a slight widening of her eyes, Milinda didn't let her expression change. For the next five minutes, they sweated and panted, each straining hard to force the other into a climax first.
When Derek felt the beginnings of a spasm deep inside Milinda's cunt, his tightly pressed lips widened into a grin. But his relaxation was his own undoing. Immediately he started to come. Milinda's sweaty face was intent with determination and before he could shoot off a second time, she jumped to the floor. His swollen, flame-red prick slapped his stomach with a wet smack and the pinnacle of his orgasm sprayed several big globs of milky semen over his bare chest.
"I won," Milinda said with satisfaction.
"Bullshit, it was a tie."
"Tell that to your cock." She sauntered haughtily out of the room.
When Derek entered the hallway, carrying his clothes, Garrett showed him the bedroom he was to use and where a bathroom was.
"That Milinda is a very funny broad," Derek said bitterly.
Garrett shrugged. "She-likes to put men down." They were standing in the bathroom and Derek was trying to remove the bracelet so he could shower. "No, it doesn't come off," Garrett said.
"What? You mean I'm stuck with this dumb looking thing?"
"Shearer doesn't want you to lose it. They're very expensive. The water won't hurt it, so go ahead and take your bath." he left.
Later, Garrett drove Derek downtown to a couple of men's clothing stores where they purchased or ordered a dozen different outfits, ranging from formal dinner wear to sandals and jeans.
"I thought you told me that we were going to be nude," Derek inquired as they drove back to the penthouse.
"That's true. There are, however, occasions when we have to get dressed to travel or to please some whim of Mr. S."
Derek didn't really object since he didn't have to pay for any of the clothes.
They had just finished dinner and had gone out onto the large terrace which opened off the sliding glass doors of the living room to relax in the lawn furniture in the cool shade of the potted palms. The sun was still two hours from setting, casting a yellow light across the tops of the hills and shadowing the dips of the city. Far to the north, Derek could see a small slice of the bay, its blue waters dotted with a half-dozen sailboats.
The phone rang and Milinda answered an extension resting on the low round table to her right. "Yes? Yes." She listened for a long time, occasionally nodding her head and scribbling on a small note pad. "But we have the new boy, Wakefield, with us. Do you think that's wise? No, of course not, I'm sorry. Yes, sir, immediately."
Hanging up, she glanced at Garrett. "We have to pick up the Key to the Golden Triangle." Her tone capitalized the words of the final phrase.
Garrett's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? So soon?"
"Yes, you fool," she snapped. Consulting her watch, she said, "The Jetstar will be at the SF International in less than two hours. We better leave right away, the traffic might be bad." It was Friday night and the spring-like weather seemed to be encouraging a lot of people to venture away from the city.
"What about pretty boy?" Garrett asked.
"It's all arranged, hell catch the eight o'clock flight tomorrow morning for the Islands. Toy will meet him."
"Do you have any money, Derek?" Milinda asked.
"Some."
"Give him enough to cover expenses and tell him what to do." She handed a sheet from the note pad to Garrett. He relayed it to Derek.
"Your ticket will be waiting for you at will-call. A limousine will pick you up here at six-thirty tomorrow morning. Toy James will meet you at the other end. Have fun." Garrett rose to follow Milinda into the apartment.
Glancing at the paper which listed the airline, flight number, etc., Derek asked. "Hey, where am I going?"
"To Hawaii, man, paradise of the mid-Pacific."
In less than ten minutes, Milinda and Garrett had left, carrying only one small suitcase. Derek felt a bit odd about being left alone fa the unfamiliar apartment. After awhile, he wandered around, investigating. It contained the usual things, including four bedrooms, servant quarters and a couple of locked doors.
When he returned to the bedroom he was to use, he found a small plastic sack of pot and a hastily written note in Garrett's oversized penmanship: "A little something to help get you off. See you in the Islands in a couple of days. Aloha, G."
Derek found some paper in with the grass. He rolled three fat joints. Why, he wasn't sure because as a regular user, he required only two or three good hits to get high. He sat a match to the first joint and inhaled deeply. The hot smoke cut down into his lungs. He held it there until he exploded in a spasm of coughing.
Very righteous dope. Smiling to himself, Derek kicked off his shoes and laid back on the bed. For some reason, he got very grooved in on just sucking away on the old roach. He was down to the butt of the second joint before he became panicky about getting too high. He remembered what the hash had done to him back at Sue's and he wasn't anxious to repeat that experience.
After extinguishing the roach, he lay very still, checking the feeling in his arms and legs. His body was relaxed to the point of total inertia. If he didn't get himself some project, something to do, he would lie in this stupor the entire night.
Maybe some coffee or a cold shower. Yeah, that would be a good idea.
He swung his feet off the bed and stood up. Slowly the room spun and the floor dropped away in slow motion. "Oh, shit!" Derek hissed. He was ripped out of his mind. He would have to be very careful and concentrate intently on everything he did.
Ah, he was about to--? What the hell was it? Why had he gotten up? The longer he stood, the less he could remember. When he started to lie down again, however, he remembered: Shower and coffee.
"Shower and coffee," he chanted over and over as-he picked his way to the kitchen. Even so, when he got there, he had to grasp hold of the counter top and ask himself why he had come.
"Coffee-shower," he said. "Yes, christ, that was it. Coffee-shower." He found a large mug, some instant coffee and a spoon. Instead of boiling water, he just let the tap run until the hot water was steaming. He dumped two heaping teaspoons of coffee into the cup and added the water.
The black mud was hot and tasted like burnt gunnysacks but he drank it anyway. Derek rarely drank coffee and the effects of caffeine on his system was very potent. It was almost like taking speed, which he hadn't tried either but he had seen its effects. The caffeine charged him, forcing him to be active. That was what he needed, something to cut the heavy dope haze which surrounded him.
After some time, how long he wasn't sure, Derek realized that he was still standing at the sink, watching the water drop away from the faucet. His head was beginning to clear and he was feeling more normal.
A shower was the next order of business. He took himself into one in the bathroom, this one done in sunshine yellow tile with matching fixtures, stripped off his clothes and climbed under the sharp needles of the cold shower.
He turned around and around, gasping. The water was beautiful, it made his whole body tingle and feel very much alive. He stood so that the main blast of the spray fell on his sex organs. The cool temperature and the needle-like pressure, caused his prick to stir. Slowly the fleshy rod enlarged and grew stiff. Derek rocked his hips from side to side so the water would play over his prick more sensually.
He adjusted the shower head so instead of sharp neeldes, he received a cascading flood which tumbled against his erect prick. That felt very good. He thrust his hips back and forth so the water would sweep from tip to root and back again. "Oh, yeah," he mumbled. "Yeah, yeah-" He skinned the prepuce back so his glans was naked to the friction of the moving water. He groaned. The dope had heightened his senses. He longed desperately for some girl to slip his big, hard cock into. Some young tender, sweet thing with a slippery-velvety soft cunt.
He tightened his grip on his phallus, but only got a couple of strokes in before he shot off. The spasm caused a pain in the base of his cock which arched down into his balls. Certainly, this wasn't the pleasurable release he had wanted.
After a time, Derek climbed out to search for a towel. Carrying the towel, he headed towards his bedroom. The sun had finally set and the interior of the apartment was dark. He stumbled into the bedroom with the idea of getting dressed and going out for a little action. San Francisco was usually good for some kind of reasonable action.
His stomach growled and he realized that he was hungry. As he traversed the length of the apartment again, passing the private elevator on his way to the kitchen, he was struck by the fact that he didn't have a house key. Without a key, he could leave only once for there was no way of keeping the elevator unlocked.
Swearing under his breath, he decided that he was too tired to go out anyway. He'd just wait 'til morning. No sweat. In the kitchen, he made a ham sandwich, found some pretzels and a six pack of beer. He carried all of this out on the terrace. Blowing out a long sigh, Derek reclined on a lounge and opened a can of beer. Some of the heat of the day still radiated from the concrete of the building. High overhead, a few bright pinpricks of starlight penetrated the smoggy glare of the city lights. The night air smelled slightly of the bay and carried a hint of extra moisture with it. Derek rested his head on the back of the lounge.
Milinda and Garrett had been very cute, pretending that they trusted him by going off and leaving him. Well-
A dull red glow on the other side of his closed eyelids attracted his attention. He opened his eyes. Sharp rays of bright light stabbed deep into his brain, sending it reeling under the painful impact. He struggled to sit upright, found that his head thundered with pain and his body was stiff and aching in all the joints.
Gasping the chilly dawn air into his lungs, Derek shook his head in an effort to clear it. Instantly he regretted his action. Holding his head carefully, he waited, hoping for the sickening sway and swirl of the world to stop.
He looked at his wrist watch and found in its stead the gaudy gold bracelet. He viewed it with disgust. It looked like something a queer would wear.
Stumbling into the bedroom where his clothes lay crumpled, he found his discarded watch. It was five-fifteen. In forty-five minutes, the limousine would be here.
Twenty minutes in a cold shower and Derek was feeling more human. He was even getting excited about the coming flight. His stomach felt empty and slightly crampy but the thought of eating made him recoil-instant nausea. Maybe he was using too much pot. Increasingly, it seemed to be having an adverse effect on him.
Because he thought of the flight to Hawaii as something special, a new start, he dressed in gray slacks, a white, light weight turtle-neck shirt and a navy blue double breasted blazer.
He had the rest of his newly acquired clothes packed and was down in the lobby of the tall apartment building when the limousine arrived.
The Boeing 320B was less than half-full and even though Derek was traveling coach, he had an entire tier of three seats to himself. Five hours is a long time to spend inside a plane. The jet's near six hundred miles per hour speed wasn't apparent and Derek grew bored and stiff. The airline served both a full course meal and a little snack to help relieve the monotony. Of the three stewardesses who were working the coach section, only the short-haired blonde was genuinely friendly. She stopped and chatted briefly with Derek on a couple of occasions. The two brunettes, despite his attempts to engage them in conversation, flashed a mechanical smile and ignored him.
When he finally spotted the green and brown turtles of the Islands in the sparkling blue sea, he felt a knot of anxiety grow in the pit of his stomach. When he had mentioned that he would be staying in the Islands for an indefinite length of time, the blonde stewardess congratulated him on his good fortune. Now, as the landing gear whined and bumped down into locked position, he wasn't so sure. He was breathing fast and shallow and his palms were damp with a cold sweat.
As he stepped through the open portal of the plane and started down the ramp to the tarmac surface, the hot, humid air washed over him like a huge wave. With it came the sweet scent of the colorful blossoms of the tropics. Near the airport buildings, tall palms swayed gently in the Trades. Derek stopped midway down the ramp, blocking the other passengers, to inhale a big, deep breath. With such a warm embrace, how could he not like Hawaii?
The other passengers lead him into the terminal buildings and out the other side under the roofed, open air, auto-loading and baggage-claim area.
"Arriving passenger, Mr. Derek Wakefield, will you please answer the nearest white courtesy phone." As the tiny loudspeakers repeated the message, Derek decided they meant him and picked up a nearby phone.
"My name is Derek Wakefield, were you paging me?"
"Yes, one moment." After a short pause, the girl said, "Ask one of the porters to guide you to the helicopter landing area. A Miss Toy James will meet you there."
"Thank you."
Standing next to a large white turbine-powered Bell helicopter with the same blue markings as the Cessna 310 had had, was a tall, statuesque girl. The bright sun made her rich coffee skin glow and accented her high, prominent cheekbones. Her mouth was painted a sensuous coral and the lids over her large liquid brown eyes shined with a metallic silver. Dressed in a short, sleeveless, low-cut tangerine dress which showed off her voluptuous beauty to full advantage, she looked cool and relaxed. Splashes of silver flashed from around her long, graceful neck, dangled from her waist and wrists and jeweled her fingers. The sun partially back-lit her wild Afro hairdo, creating a halo.
"Hi, Derek, baby." Her voice was low and melodious.
"Hi. Are you Toy?"
"In name only, innocent one." A stairway extended from the helicopter. She started mounting the steps. "Come along."
Derek tipped the porter and hurried up the steps with his bag. The plush interior of the helicopter was designed to carry eight in luxury. "Sit down and relax," Toy advised as she eased into one of the deep cushioned chairs.
As Derek fastened his seat belt, the sound of the turbine spiraled up to the whining pitch of a hurricane and the ship left the ground.
"You ever been to the Islands before?" Toy asked as they swept out over the ocean.
"Once, a long time ago. I was only five and don't really remember it."
"Well, the place we're going to isn't on any tourist's maps, but if it were, we'd have more business than we could ever hope to take care of."
"Just where are we going?"
"Why, to Mr. Shearer's private villa, naturally."
"Oh, naturally." Derek tried to sound as flippant as the girl.
Toy gave out a hearty laugh, her mouth wide, showing large glistening white teeth. "You're just about the cutest boy-child I've ever seen."
"Boy-child? What the hell are you talking about? I'll bet I'm older than you are."
"Are you even over twenty-one?"
"It so happens that I am," Derek said aggressively.
"Yeah? By how much?"
"Five years!"
Toy laughed again. "Come now, be an honest lad and tell mama the truth." Derek sighed. "I did."
Toy's big smile showed miles of pearly teeth. "Frankly, whitey, I find that hard to believe."
"Frankly, I don't give a damn."
The lights went out in Toy's eyes and her smooth features were disfigured by a look of total repulsion. She sighed. "I'm glad. That means you're not one of the joy boys."
"The what?"
"Nothing, lamb, forget it." She began to sparkle again. She got up from her seat, where she hadn't bothered to fasten her seat belt and came across the isle to sit next to Derek.
"You are a pretty one," she said, resting a hand on Derek's thigh.
What a hot blooded bitch, thought Derek. Aggressive women turned him off because they were never what they pretended to be, using an offense as a good defense. On an impulse, he slipped his hand in back of her head and forced her mouth to his.
Instead of fighting him as he had expected, her tongue shot into his mouth and while she vigorously frenched him, her hands were busy, feeling him up through the crotch of his slacks. Suddenly she broke off and concentrated on unbuckling the seat belt and opening his trousers.
Her hand reached inside, searching. Derek squirmed around, spreading his legs as her fingers clutched the base of his bulging prick. She had a struggle, but at last, the organ sprang free, engorged with blood. "Sweet mother of christ," she whispered. "What a colossal cock!" Her long, elegant fingers caressed his erection. "Where did a little skinny honky like you get a cock like this?"
Derek sighed with pleasure and pride as she slipped off the chair next to him to sit on the floor in front of him. "Now, just where do you think? Out of a box of Cracker-jacks," he said.
Her hand frisked around and up and down his phallus in a quick series of masturbatory jerks. Suddenly she stopped. "Do you know how to use this?"
Slumping down in his chair more, Derek thrust his hips forward, shoving his prick towards her face. "You better believe it."
"Okay, prove it." She laid back on the carpeted floor of the whining helicopter and pulled the short skirt of her dress up to reveal the fact that she was naked under the thin garment.
With her hands overhead, she spread her long cinnamon legs. The mound of her cunt was a darker brown than the rest of her body. Tight, kinky black hair speckled it. Opening her legs wider, she separated the coffee stained cunt lips to flash the bright pink of her interior at Derek. His already massively swollen prick strained larger.
"Well," she said haughtily. "If you're such a goddamn great stud, get down here and fuck me."
As Derek bridged over her, she grabbed his hard cock and stuffed it into her juicy cunt. The shearing tightness of her tunnel almost made him come immediately. Slowing the penetration, he continued to drill into her until his prick was buried to the hilt. Toy had one of those snug yet infinitely stretchable cunts, which could accommodate a young boy's small cock on his first fuck or the massive phallus which Derek had just shoved into her, with equal pleasure and ease.
Derek had never fucked a black girl before and he hadn't done any screwing with his clothes on since he was fifteen. The combination of the two made for an unusual experience. He pulled back and thrust forward, jamming his prick deep. Working smoothly, he pumped his husky phallus in and out of her dark tunnel of love. He stole a glance down between their bodies whenever he could because the sight of his big, white prick, glistening with love juices, pistoning its way between the tightly stretched black cunt lips was incredibly exciting.
Derek's feet found a brace against the support for the chairs and he doubled the speed of his plunges, fucking as fast as he could. Just as the expanding bubble of hot sexual energy deep in his loins was about to burst, Toy threw her arms around him and drew him down on top of her as the shudders of her orgasm shook her body.
At the same moment, Derek's swollen cock erupted with a massive gushing discharge of hot cream. Again and again, his long, hard prick slammed down the slippery cunt, spraying more blood-thick fluid deep inside the moaning girl.
When he stopped moving, Toy pushed him off and sat up. Derek rose unsteadily to his feet. His phallus, having softened, hung like a section of wet hose. He forced the sticky prick back inside his trousers, wincing as sperm soiled the fly of his slacks.
Toy sat primly in the chair opposite him again. "I think you've just been officially welcomed to the Islands."
Derek laughed. "It sure as hell beats the traditional floral lai."
"It's the spirit of the lay that counts," Toy said with a grin.
Derek stumbled into a nearby seat as the helicopter banked rather steeply to sweep in over the white breakers just offshore of a large island. He had no idea of which one it was. He was pretty sure that it wasn't Oahu. The ship crossed over the shaggy green corner of a large field of sugar cane, dipped down over the spiny ridge of a broken volcanic cone, which formed a three sided fortress around a lush estate, and bumped softly to a landing on a large section of green grass on the landside of the large villa.
The pilot stayed in his sealed compartment and as soon as Toy and Derek were clear of the rotor, the big ship lifted off. "Come on," Toy shouted over the noise. "I'll give you a quick tour and show you to your bungalow."
Twenty minutes later, Derek was alone, having received instructions to strip off his clothes and get a tan as fast as he could. Toy said that he should stay away from the villa until invited up, but that he may use the beach freely. His meals would be sent down. In a day or so, after he was rested up, the others would be arriving and he would be introduced to them.
The video chip didn't cover all of the events which flashed so vividly through Derek's thoughts. He returned the record wafer to storage, shut down the equipment and carrying the incriminating chip, carefully retraced his steps back to Shearer's bedroom suite. There, he smashed the chip and flushed the fragments down the ornate toilet.
As Derek eased into the dim hall, the house was still quiet. The beat of his excited heart seemed thunderously loud in the early morning stillness. He was sweating from the strain of the past several minutes' activities.
Just as he was tiptoeing past one of the bedroom doors, it opened. He froze. Only half-awake, one hand trying to cover an enormous yawn and the other rasping over the hairy mound of her cunt, Toy blundered out into the hall. "Well, lover boy, you're up early. What are you doing?"
"Ah-I was just looking around to see if you were up."
The soft mask of sleep faded from the girl's face and a sudden spark of fire flamed in her dark eyes. "Oh, yeah? I guess it has been a day or two, hasn't it?"
Derek nodded, his nerves taut.
"A little licorice flavored sex before breakfast, huh?"
Again, Derek nodded.
"Well, follow your cock and come with me." She led him by his limp prick into one of the large bathrooms. She seemed unaware of the image they presented as they stood before the giant mirror which covered one entire wall. Opening the medicine cabinet, she took out a bottle of pills. "An ounce of prevention, as they say." She swallowed the birth control tablet dry.
Yawning again, she stretched her arms far up over her head, arching her back. The dark nipples of her breasts jutted at Derek. He was somewhat relieved to feel his prick beginning to uncoil. "Let's take a shower," Toy suggested. "I've got to wake up."
As Derek joined her under the warm spray of the shower, she had her back to him, her head under the showerhead. He was feeling a little less apprehensive now. If he could just concentrate on the sex, he might carry off this masquerade. Picking up a bar of soap, he began to wash her back. Slowly he worked his soapy hands around in front to lather the full balloons of her breasts. They had a wonderful spongy feel to them. She twisted about within his arms. Her nipples had contracted, darkening in color, and now stood erect.
Derek forced a grin. He half-expected someone to call his bluff at any moment. Toy handed him a plastic bottle of shampoo. "Prove how useful you can be," she said. Pouring a small amount into his hand, he massaged the shampoo into her hair. Toy took up the bar of soap, worked up some suds and began to do a thorough job of lathering his genitals. They came alive in her hands, his prick swelling into an erection. He slid one hand down her smooth side to cup it against the mound of her cunt for a moment. Then he ran a finger along the slot and finally stuck it deep into the velvety interior. Toy cooed with pleasure. Her hand slid back and forth on his cock, pulling the bronzed skin along the thick shaft.
Derek concentrated on rubbing her clitoris as a trickle of sexual desire stirred in his loins. Toy was breathing excitedly and he tried to match her rhythm.
"Stick it up inside me!" she cried, maneuvering him around so they would have more room. Bracing herself in a wide legged stance, she thrust her pubis forward while her hands stretched the cunt lips open. Squatting so he could come up at the proper angle, Derek drove his prick inside her.
The limited space and uncertain footing of the shower didn't allow for much movement. Yet the angle of penetration was obviously very stimulating to Toy, judging from her moans and groans, and Derek's interest in their activities was growing, too. Steadily, he pumped through her slippery depths.
Toy grabbed him about the waist, forcing him to fuck faster as she gasped with the sudden flashes of her orgasmic release.
Satisfied, she forced Derek away. Even though he hadn't come, he didn't really mind. As they stepped out of the shower and reached for towels, his only concern was to be away from the villa.
Derek had no more than walked through the front door of his bungalow when the phone rang. Actually, it wasn't a real phone, but was just part of an extensive intercom system.
"Yes?"
"We're leaving promptly at one o'clock this afternoon," Milinda informed him curtly. "Be packed and ready to go. Wear something comfortable for a long flight. Oh, and lunch will be served at 11:30 on the terrace."
"Where are we going?"
"For a plane ride." Abruptly the line went dead.
Derek's hand was sweaty as he replaced the phone and his breakfast lay like a lump of concrete. Tension had become a nearly constant companion since that fatal evening on top of the headland. He wasn't sure how much more he could stand.
Finding his pot, he rolled a joint. With the first deep inhalation, he laid back on the bed.
Earlier, he had toyed with the idea of walking away from the group when they arrived at the Honolulu International Airport to catch their flight. The longer he stayed, the less likely he would ever leave-alive.
By carefully gathering the tiny bits and pieces of information dropped by Milinda and Garrett and by reading between the lines, Derek knew that Ku Ti had been tricked into coming here and he also knew that Shearer's "business" involved drugs. From the amount of money he splashed around on villas, planes and the like, business must be damn good. All of which meant that there was a hell of a lot riding on their operation: a hell of a lot of money, a lot of people and a lot of trouble for anyone trying to interfere.
Christ! What a hassle. When he accepted Garrett's invitation, he thought he had found the perfect place to wait for his inheritance. Instead, he found himself in a mess far worse than the one he had tried to escape.
Screw the whole thing! Just thinking about it made him tired. He stubbed out the roach and closed his eyes to float. He knew that he shouldn't be just laying here, but the pot had dulled all sense of urgency.
At eleven-thirty, he joined the others on the terrace for a pick-up lunch of fruit and cold fish. Ku Ti apparently wasn't eating. He hadn't seen her all morning and wondered where she was. Maybe she had already left for Bangkok. He hadn't, however, heard the helicopter. A vague feeling of uneasiness about her well-being was growing inside him. He tried to dismiss it. It seemed un likely that Shearer would harm the daughter of a foreign government leader. And besides, he had consumed so much pot that an entire regiment of Marines could have stormed ashore and he wouldn't have heard it.
Back at his bungalow, he laid out the clothes he was going to wear for the flight, finished packing and took a cold shower. Another joint seemed appropriate. He knew that he was smoking too much, yet he laid in the shaded coolness of the bedroom, getting stoned and waiting for the time to dress.
A sudden clatter of steps charged up the wooden stairs of the front porch, banged through the screen door and then Ku Ti, her black hair awry, her face wet with sweat and stained with tears, burst into his room.
"Derek! Derek, help me!" She flung herself into his arms. Her small body trembled as she gasped.
"What is it? Ku Ti, what happened?"
"They won't let me leave," she panted. "They're forcing me to come with you on this flight. I'm frightened. Please help me."
"Here, sit down and try to take it easy." Derek fetched a wet face cloth from the bathroom and began mopping her hot face. "Now, tell me exactly what happened."
Ku Ti took a deep breath. "Miss O'Donnell came into my room this morning and said that the party was moving to another of Mr. Shearer's private estates and that she would like me to join them. I thanked her very graciously, but explained that I must return to my father before he sent the military police after me. I didn't want to cause any embarrassment to Mr. Shearer for my childish behavior."
Derek had lit a joint and offered it to Ku Ti.
"What is it?"
"Just a little pot, marijuana. It will calm you down."
She shook her head. "No, I don't want any. She tried to trick me. She asked if she had done something to displease me. 'Oh no,' I protested. 'You have all been most kind. It's just that my father will be worried.'
" 'But if you're enjoying yourself, why hurry off?' she asked. She went on to say, 'I thought you and Derek were getting on quite nicely.'" Ku Ti looked up into Derek's face. "I'm sorry if my behavior has embarrassed you."
Derek shook his head. "You haven't embarrassed me."
Ku Ti's small hand grasped his bare forearm. "You are a kind person."
She suddenly bit her lower lip, her eyes downcast. "When I insisted that I must leave, she laughed. She said that wasn't possible and if I tried to escape, I would only bring harm to myself. Oh, Derek, what should I do? Can you help me? I don't want to stay here any longer." Tears brimmed from her big, unhappy eyes.
Derek pulled her face to his chest. "Don't cry, sweetheart. I think I have a plan." He told her what he had planned for himself without telling her why. "Just go along with them and when we get to the airport, stay close to me."
"Do you think we'll be able to do this?"
A picture of the drowned girl floating face-down in the surf made Derek shudder. "We have to."
Derek held her and comforted her until she had relaxed some. Not wanting to draw too much attention to their relationship or hint at any possible conspiracy on their part, Derek lead her back to the villa by way of the seldom used front door. When he had her safely tucked back into her room, he told her not to worry, kissed her again and left.
Why was Shearer holding the girl? Did he kidnap those he wanted who did not join his sex games willing?
Just as Derek left the villa, someone with a vise-like grip grabbed his arm and spun him around. "What did she tell you?" Garrett demanded, his voice angry and his blue eyes dark with hatred.
Derek pried the tight fingers off his arm. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about that slant-eyed slut." Derek tried to hit him, but Garrett blocked the blow and slammed his fist into Derek's middle, doubling him with a painful grunt. Grabbing a handful of hair, Garrett jerked Derek's head up and repeated the question. "What did she tell you?"
"Nothing." The backhand caught him in the mouth and sent him sprawling.
Garrett was immediately on top of him, wrenching one of Derek's arms high up his back. Derek writhed under the pain and finally gasped out the fact that Ku Ti had revealed that she was being held prisoner.
Garrett released his hold. "Now, why didn't you tell me that in the first place?"
"Because I didn't know whether it was true or not."
"And now?"
"You haven't shown me any reason to doubt her word."
Garrett lifted Derek to his feet by a handful of hair. "You can believe it. Her father is the provincial governor of a part of the area known as the 'Golden Triangle.' That is the main source of opium, now that the U.S. is trying to dry up Turkey. The governor has been harassing Shearer's plantations and Ku Ti is some insurance against further such incidents. If you're smart, pretty boy, you'll stay a long ways away from that Oriental slut."
"Fuck you!"
The knee caught Derek right in the balls and left him whimpering with pain. "I still say that if you know what's good for you, you'll do as you're told." Garrett laughed and returned to the villa.
It was several agonizing minutes before Derek could stagger to his feet and limp back to his bungalow. He filled the bath tub with cool water and slowly lowered himself into it.
At least, thought Derek, the battle lines had been drawn. He had obviously been a naive ass, but now no question remained. Shearer and his whole gang was rotten to the core. He was getting out and Ku Ti was coming with him.
If he only had some type of weapon. He grimaced as he carefully examined his scrotum. The damage had only been momentary. But if he had a gun, there would be one less blonde gorilla in this world.
The big helicopter arrived with a whining clatter and Derek joined the others as they climbed on board. Toy smiled at him as he helped her onto the ramp. Joyce Engelsen was so spaced out that Milinda literally had to drag her up into the helicopter. Derek followed Ku Ti in. He noticed that under the beige, tropical-weight sports coat Garrett was wearing, lurked a bulge. Since the coat wasn't buttoned, he watched carefully until he saw the gray metal of a gun butt. Milinda carried no visible weapons but then her whole supertrained body was one big weapon. Derek suspected from the way she could produce fear even in Garrett that she must be an expert in the martial arts.
Derek's plan for escape looked less and less likely to succeed. Yet, he was unwilling to give up hope. He wouldn't be fighting them, just running from them. It seemed un likely that either Garrett or Milinda would want to risk a scene at the busy airport.
The helicopter tilted forward, lifted off and swung up over the remnants of the volcanic cone and then out over the sparkling blue water of the Pacific Ocean. Derek tried to orient himself, so later, he could identify the island. It seemed hopeless, however, without a map to go by.
All the passengers, buckled in their seats, maintained a stiff silence throughout the forty-five minute flight. Ahead, Derek could see the vast bulk of a brown and green island rising out of the shoaling waters of the blue ocean. They remained at a high altitude, perhaps as much as five thousand feet. This island seemed much more mountainous than he remembered Oahu, but then, he had been distracted.
When they crossed the foothills of a massive volcano, he was sure they hadn't returned to Oahu and the Honolulu Airport. Ten minutes later when the helicopter dropped down on a remote corner of an airfield, his heart sank to rock bottom. In the distance, he read the letters atop the small terminal building: Kona.
Garrett let down the stairway and climbed down first. Ku Ti, her dark eyes as big as saucers, glanced at Derek. He swallowed and rubbed his wet palms against his slacks.
"Come on, you two," Milinda ordered. "You're holding us up."
Derek lead Ku Ti down the steps, followed closely by Milinda. Garrett stood poised, as if ready for anything, at the foot of the ramp. The terminal building was a good quarter mile away. They could never make it.
Garrett herded them after the girls who were mounting the nearby stairs of a sleek four engine, Lockheed Jet Star, painted with the same design as the rest of Shearer's planes. As they neared the private jet, Ku Ti again looked deploringly at Derek. He shook his head slightly. Her face was immediately downcast and he could see silent tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
She pulled her hand free from his and mounted the steps. The interior of the plane had been designed to offer the maximum of comfort to its passengers. Ku Ti selected a seat towards the rear and she looked reproachfully at Derek when he sat down beside her. He patted her hand but she pulled it away and refused to look at him again.
The engines roared into life and shortly they were speeding towards some unknown shore.
The flight deck was completely sealed off from the passenger area where the seats were arranged two abreast on each side of the central aisle. Just forward of the lavatory in the tail of the plane was a miniature food station and opposite that was a lounging area with a table. Milinda, Joyce, Toy and Garrett all sat in the front of the plane. With shaky fingers, Derek lit a joint and sucked in a big lungful of smoke. He offered it to Ku Ti but she refused. He inhaled again and laid back against the headrest. He was back to his waiting game.
After they had been airborne for about an hour, things were fairly quiet. Garrett had his chair reclined and was stretched out, apparently asleep. Milinda had a small attache' case and was reading some papers. Lost in a world of her own, Joyce stared blankly out of the window. With a cigarette in her long elegant fingers, Toy paged through a magazine.
Derek turned his attention to Ku Ti. He took her small hand in his and squeezed it. "Don't give up hope," he whispered.
Ku Ti looked at him with big sad eyes. "Why did we not do as we had planned back at the airport?"
"It was an impossible situation, surely you saw that."
"I only saw that you made no attempt. It seems to me that you are working with them."
"What?" Derek glanced up front to see if anyone's attention had been attracted by his surprise. Speaking softly again, he said, "You don't honestly believe that, do you?"
Ku Ti looked down at her hands. "I don't know what to believe. All I know is I was tricked into coming to Shearer's in the first place and now there seems to be a conspiracy to keep me here."
"True, but I have nothing to do with it." He took her hand again. "They purposely had this plane parked away over in the comer of the Kona airport, you saw that. The terminal building was a good quarter mile away. There was no way we could have gotten there if they didn't want us to. Garrett is even carrying a gun." Derek sighed. "I know it looks bad. But we'll try again and keep trying until we get away. The only advantage we have, and it's not much of one, is the element of surprise. I don't think anyone really expects us to try anything. There will be another chance and we'll make it."
Silent tears were again making glistening tracks across Ku Ti's smooth cheeks. For a moment, she held Derek's hand to her face. "Please excuse me for doubting you. I'm so frightened that I can not think clearly."
"I know, baby, I know. Try to relax and get some rest. When we land, we'll have to be ready to run." Ku Ti tried to settle back. "You sure you don't want a joint?" Derek asked. She shook her head.
The minutes and hours seemed to creep by. The rest of the group drank heavily and smoked a lot of grass. Derek had a second joint but Ku Ti refused all offers of either the pot or alcohol. About three hours out, Milinda ordered Toy and Joyce to break out the food. Toy sauntered off to the food station with Joyce, looking otherworldly, quietly following. The food consisted of several types of sandwiches, cold meat and fish and a nice selection of fresh fruits.
Both Derek and Ku Ti ate with surprising appetites. After the meal, Ku Ti finally drifted off to sleep. Derek scanned the horizon for signs of land. They were moving steadily away from the sun, accelerating its setting. Ahead, the sky lost the bright hotness of midday and cooled towards a soft twilight.
About four and one-half hours after take-off, Derek noticed that the plane was definitely descending. At first, the pitch was so slight that he hadn't been sure. But when the descent grew more obvious, he realized that they had been dropping for some time. He saw the indefinite blaze of a large city's lights ahead in the purple dusk. They were approaching the west coast of the continental United States, of that he was sure. But just where, it was impossible to guess.
As the plane continued to lose altitude and banked around for an approach, Derek quickly reviewed all the West Coast international airports: Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego. He had been to all of them. He figured they would land at a big field, one he knew. Several other fields were probably long enough to handle the jet and if Shearer's plans called for such a landing, Derek would be hopelessly lost.
The city they were approaching started right at the ocean and sprawled landward. That eliminated Washington and Oregon, whose major airports were in land. It could be San Francisco or Southern California. No distinctive bay. Southern California, then.
Lights of the metropolitan octopus stretched beyond the horizon both north and south. The plane dropped below five thousand feet and Derek tried desperately to distinguish some landmark he might know. Ku Ti was awake now and she grew excited when Derek told her they were about to land in mainland America.
"Surely, we can escape here," she said. "Let's hope so."
The bump and whine of hydraulics told of the lowering of the landing gear. This was shortly followed by the rush of air noise as the flaps were put into operation.
Suddenly they were over the field and tires screeched as they settled to the runway. With the length of the flight and the time change, local time was around nine P.M. The May night was a thick gloom along the runway. Derek kept scanning the out buildings, looking for anything which would identify their location.
The plane veered off the runway onto the blue light-lined taxi-ways and headed for some small hangars. He couldn't see any large terminal buildings, which meant that they had either landed at a small field or that the terminal was on the other side of the runway.
The plane slowed to a crawl and pivoted around to line up at a parking spot. As the pilots followed the orange cones of the field man, Derek caught a quick glimpse of the main terminal in the distance: San Diego!
This was even better than the Islands. A big city, lots of quick transportation around in the morning, easy access to his money via one of the local banks. "Okay," he whispered in Ku Ti's ear. "Stay close to me and when we get outside, we'll make a break for it."
The lights blinked as the plane was switched from internal power to the outside generator. The final turbine lost its throaty hiss as it wound down to a stop. Garrett stuck his head into the flight deck for a moment's conversation. He said something to Milinda then and walked back along the aisle. Derek had been watching two tankers, one on either side of the plane, as they pulled up for the refueling.
"Derek, come on back and give me a hand," Garrett said as he went by. Derek shrugged at Ku Ti's silent question and followed Garrett back.
Garrett was putting all the plates, silver, glasses and empty bottles back into the scuffed aluminum containers. Derek started to follow suit. "Right," Garrett said, "Get all that stuff. You can put it in any of the boxes."
Just as they were finishing the last container, the special hatch built into the outside wall of the tiny food station sighed, sank inward and then swung out. The cool night air, with the tainted scents of a big city, flooded the plane. A middle-aged man in a white uniform, which said Air Chefs on the left breast, stood on an elevated platform with two stacks of aluminum containers. "Are you Shearer International?" he asked.
"Yeah," Garrett said. "I hope you have a lot of food for us because I'm starved."
"An excellent four course dinner for ten, plus champagne, snacks and other goodies. If you'll hand out your containers first, we'll get this stuff stored."
Assuming there were two pilots on the flight deck, there were only a total of eight people onboard. More than enough food, thought Derek as he relayed the containers. Then the implication of the food sank in: They weren't stopping here. They weren't even getting off the plane!
"That's the lot," said the Air Chef employee. "If I can get one of you to sign this." Garrett took the invoice and scribbled his name on it.
"Have a nice trip," the man said, pushing the air lock home.
Yeah, sure, thought Derek gloomily. We'll have a hell of a trip.
A FLIGHT INTO MADNESS
"Have you got those plugged in?" Milinda's cool voice startled Derek because he hadn't heard her approach.
Garrett looked up. "I think so. You want to check them?"
"What's wrong with you?" Milinda asked Derek as she inspected the stay-warm units.
"Ah-nothing." Derek turned to Garrett. "Do you need me any more?"
"No, thanks."
As Derek dropped into his seat, Ku Ti looked up, her big, black eyes still melancholic. Derek took her hand and squeezed it, but couldn't really meet her quizzical stare. "We're not getting out here," he said softly.
"What?" Her question was drowned by the accelerating turbines as the jet began to move. She leaned closer. "Where are we going then?"
"I don't know."
Milinda and Garrett returned to their seats as the seatbelt light flashed on and the plane taxied away from the ramp and San Diego. For one panicky moment, Derek wanted to jump out of his seat, race to the door, throw it open and run. He didn't. It was hopeless.
As the plane left the pattern, Derek made every effort to keep oriented. It proved to be no problem. Reaching altitude, the plane headed due west, directly towards the fading pink tints of the sunset on the far horizon.
As soon as the plane leveled off, Milinda roused Toy and Joyce and they went aft to the kitchen to serve dinner. The food was surprisingly tasty but Derek ate mechanically. Ku Ti was lost in her own unhappy thoughts and said nothing. Aside from the taped music which played in the background, there was only the sounds of eating and rushing air. Milinda had never been a chatterbox and while Garrett seemed to enjoy Derek's company, at least some of the time, he remained in the front row with Milinda. Toy maintained her icy elegance by isolating herself on the opposite side of the plane from Ku Ti and Derek and by making a great pantomime out of eating and ignoring the others. Shortly after the take-off from San Diego, Joyce had locked herself in the head for nearly ten minutes. When she finally emerged, the drawn lines of her face had smoothed out. Obviously high again, she had joined in the serving of dinner with a false cheerfulness.
Suddenly the plane dropped, nosing over into a high speed descent. "Christ!" cried Milinda. "They could at least warn us." As if the pilots heard her, the seatbelt sign blinked on. "Now they tell us," she said.
"What is it?" cried Joyce. "What's wrong? Are we crashing?"
"No!" yelled Milinda. "Sit down and relax, you stupid hophead." She stood up and looked back at her uncertain companions. "Just a little change in altitude to avoid the coastal radar nets. Relax and enjoy the meal. Well be at the hacienda in about ninety minutes." She returned to her meal.
"What did she mean by hacienda?" Ku Ti asked Derek.
"I'm not sure. Hacienda is a Spanish word for house or estate. It could mean that we're going to Mexico, apparently without troubling the custom officials."
As they finished their meals, Derek kept his sense tuned up. Shortly, he was rewarded by noting the gradual left turn. The star pattern shifted around a full one hundred eighty degrees. "I was right," he whispered to Ku Ti. "We are heading back towards the continent."
About an hour later, Derek could just make out the inky bulk of mountainous land off to the left. The plane had dropped to less than two thousand feet for its return trip. The bump and grind of the lowering wheels signaled a new descent. Ahead, Derek could see no signs of civilization, no buildings, no lights, only the black of the land and the gray of the ocean.
During the final moments before touchdown, the plane skimmed over several small islands. The white lights of a runway flared ahead and the tires screeched on tarmac as the jet touched down. Derek was surprised because he had expected the plane to land, if not on the beach, on nothing more than a dirt strip.
"Okay, gang," Milinda called. "This is the end of the line. Welcome to Mexico."
Having left the plane before it was towed away, the six people huddled on the far side of the flight apron, waiting. The night was moonless and the wind from the Pacific, cold. Ku Ti pressed her small body closer to Derek. She was trembling. He wondered if it was due entirely to the cold temperature.
The general silence of the area sign-posted its obvious isolation. Yet, the improvements which Shearer had made gave the desert landscape an almost science-fiction atmosphere. The ground crew of two Mexican men had stood carefully apart while Derek and the others had deplaned. When Milinda had lead the group well away from the plane, the Mexicans towed the jet into a large geodesic dome, which with its camouflaging of dark colored sand and rocks, must look like a small hill from the sky. The dim lights of the interior revealed a fully equipped hangar. Once the ship was in the hangar, the two pilots left, carrying small bags. They walked into the night, crossing over to a smaller geodesic dome, similarly camouflaged. The runway under Derek's feet had been made of crushed pumice so it, too, would be nearly invisible from a distance. Shearer never failed to surprise Derek. His resources and imagination seemed inexhaustible.
Finally a white Buick Station wagon, bearing the logo of the "Hacienda del Sol," wheeled onto the apron. "It's about time," snapped Milinda as the dark native driver got out of the car.
"Very much sorry, Senorita." Quickly the young man secured the luggage to the rack on top of the car and then silently drove them up a paved, winding road towards the summit of a small mountain.
The big hacienda, what little of it could be seen in the pale starlight and the sweep of the car's lights, combined the Spanish and Moorish styles into a sprawling two storied, tan stucco building with a tile roof.
The huge wooden door studded with metal was opened by a small, dark maid wearing a white apron. Milinda fired a couple of questions at the girl in Spanish and received a soft voiced reply.
"Toy, you and Joyce, follow the girl. She'll show you to your rooms. Your usual room is waiting, Garrett. And you two," Milinda turned to smile at Ku Ti and Derek, "follow me."
She lead them down a short hallway with white walls and up a broad staircase to the open galleries of the portales or arcades. The big house formed three sides of a large square. The open side butted up against, what appeared in the dim light to be a small canyon. Down below in the huge patio, Derek could hear the soft splash of water and could detect the leafy growth of numerous plants.
"The honeymooner's suite," Milinda said, not without a trace of irony, as she opened the twin wooden doors. "Sleep well." The door latched behind her.
"This is Mexico," Derek said without much enthusiasm. Ku Ti nodded mutely. Her eyes were bloodshot with fatigue from nearly ten hours of cramped traveling and taut nerves. Derek felt as bad as she looked.
"What are we going to do now?" the girl asked.
"Well," Derek said, surveying the huge dark wood framed bed which dominated the room. "I think the best thing is to get some rest."
All the furniture was oversized: Chairs heavily carved and wide at the base, the leather-backed sofas and a ponderous side table and wardrobe. The tile floor was covered by a splendid Indian rug in shades of tan and burnt umber. Long lace curtains hung at the windows. All of the furniture looked as stiff as Derek was feeling and it all glowed black from much polishing.
Since landing, Derek had seen none of the monitoring bubbles. The room lacked any. He pointed this out to Ku Ti. "That is one good thing, yes?" she said.
"Yes."
A partially opened door lead Derek into a large bathroom, which, while done in the same style as the rest of the house with tile and iron work towel racks, featured completely modern fixtures. The sunken, six foot square tile bath was too much to pass up.
"Ku Ti, come here. Look at this." He started the water and then helped the girl shed her wrinkled clothes. As her slender honey-colored body was revealed, Derek felt a growing response from his loins. Unable to resist, he cupped one of her small conical breasts in his hand and bent to kiss the delicate-skinned nipple. New life sparkled in the depths of Ku Ti's eyes as she warmed to his caresses.
Stepping back, Derek quickly stripped. Ku Ti smiled at his jutting erection. "You seem to have unlimited strength," she said, her hands sliding over his prick and rubbing his balls as she leaned forward to accept his penetrating kisses.
When the bathing pool was filled, they slid into the warm waters, rinsing and then lulling in each other's arms. The silky smooth skin of Ku Ti's curves against his naked body aroused Derek with a burning lust. His hand slipped over her body and wormed its way between her legs. She separated them and the tiny pelt with its magical orifice was his. He traced the fleshy opening and then pushed his finger inside. Nothing had the same sensual, velvety feel as the smooth walls of a cunt. Derek wished he could get the whole of himself in there.
Ku Ti sighed with pleasure, her hand, caressing his phallus. "Oh, Derek, you are most pleasurable." Derek smiled and kissed her.
Her tongue forced its way into his mouth. The bouyance of nearly eighteen inches of water made Ku Ti's body light in Derek's hands. He lifted her up on top of his stretched-out body. Though the clear water distorted the image, he could see his erect prick as he maneuvered her so her pussy was properly aligned. While he held the cheeks of her trim, little ass, she guided his cock into her cunt. He pressed down on her buttocks, forcing her to impale herself on his spear.
Her cunt was tight tonight and he had to lift her body up and down, forcing his prick into her by small degrees. The combination of water and her own lubrication juices finally greased the slow penetration to completion. For a long moment, Derek held her pelvis tight against his, enjoying the sensations resulting from his hard cock stretching her snug cunt. Each beat of his pumping heart caused his prick to pulse inside the tight sheath. She wiggled her hips, creating the beautiful, liquid sensations that only fucking can produce.
Derek provided the power, lifting her hips up and then pulling them back down to him; coming out of her and then gliding far up inside again. She rocked her hips from side to side increasing their mutual pleasure. Excitement coursed through his body, flooding towards his swollen genitals in a gathering turbulence of dammed pleasure. He leaned his head back against the edge of the pool, his eyes closed tightly against the rising tide which threatened to overwhelm him momentarily.
Ku Ti, her lips close to his ear, whispered in an encouraging manner, even though he couldn't understand her native tongue. Her desire was abundant and he moved faster, thrusting his prick up into the girl; fucking energetically. The water jostled and splashed, causing wavelets to lap over the rim of the pool. Their fucking was a blood-hot frenzy now, the maelstrom of the bath reflecting their intense passion.
The breath hissed from between Derek's clenched teeth with each rapid upstroke, his hard flesh lancing into her soft interior. The swirling, pent-up sexual forces in his loins suddenly broke the dam. He geysered! The strong surge of his orgasm forced Ku Ti into a shuddering climax. Several, quick convulsive waves contracted her cunt tightly around his plunging prick. Then she collapsed in a boneless ecstasy which allowed Derek to ram his prick full in with each new squirting thrust.
Momentarily drained yet still erect, Derek gradually slowed his fucking until he stopped with his cock deeply buried. "Jesus!" he breathed. "You're a fantastic fuck."
"Fuck?" Ku Ti asked with a sleepy voice.
"Yeah, fuck. Making love is called fucking in America."
"Ah, it means I am a good lover, yes?"
"Yes!" Derek kissed her.
He lifted her from the bath, toweled her gently and carried her to the big bed where he tucked her under the blankets. Reaching up, she pulled his face down again to kiss him. "I love you, Derek."
"And I love you."
Quickly he returned to the bathroom to dry himself. Switching off the lights, he slipped into bed. Ku Ti was already asleep, breathing slowly and heavily. Derek closed his mind to all thought, snuggled closer to his Eurasian beauty and went to sleep.
Something, some sound awakened Derek. The strong rays of the early morning sun slanted through the shutters, casting long, thin gold bars across the floor and the rug. He rolled onto his back and listened. A flat-sounding whack like a board hitting water cracked the morning stillness. A person cried out in agony.
Ku Ti, buried deeply in the soft mattress, pillows and abundant blankets, slept soundly. Derek climbed out of bed and padded to the door. The sound and the cry came again. Trying the door, he found it unlocked. Slowly, he inched it open. The sun, already high, washed the cobbled patio in bright light and glinted on the flat green fronds of the lush banana and rubber plants. As he had thought, the house formed an enclosure to the end of a narrow, steep-sided canyon, which cut its way back up into the mountain. The canyon was choked with a profuse jungle of tropical plants, hiding the floor. And the splashing of water which he had thought to be the typical courtyard fountain was, instead, a small stream spilling over a ten foot high lip of the canyon to a lily lined pool set in the far side of the patio.
But what riveted his attention was a large wooden arch built of small logs. Hanging, stretched tautly in the center of this by tight ropes on his hands and feet, was Garrett. His naked body glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed into sharp relief with each cutting blow of the whip that one of Shearer's guards was wielding. The guard looked oddly out of place, dressed in a neat tan business suit. The other guard wasn't in sight. At a small wrought-iron and glass table sat a distinguished looking man with silvery-gray hair and mustache. He was eating his breakfast with a relaxed air about him, seemingly only mildly interested in the whipping.
Garrett's back was already marked with oozing red lines and a new cut appeared with each whack of the whip. Yet the most curious phenomenon was Garrett's obvious sexual arousal. His prick was swollen and rigid and seemed to quiver with each lash of the whip. "Nine!" called the guard as he threw his powerful torso into the blow.
Garrett's cry of pain was immediately followed by a groan of intense relief as he orgasmed. As his sweaty body shuddered, his phallus shot great, arching streams of white come into the bright morning air.
The man eating breakfast said something unintelligible to Derek, his rich voice making a smooth rumbling. The guard, coiling his whip, walked off the patio into the house. The man finished his coffee and the last bit of toast, ignoring Garrett, who now hung limply, his eyes closed, his chin resting against his chest. Finally the man got up and sauntered over to Garrett. "It's disappointing," he said, "trying to discipline you for your wagging tongue, Garrett. You enjoy it too much."
Derek shivered as if someone had run an ice cube down his spine. He was totally repulsed by the scene in the patio. Just then footsteps sounded on the stairs and he ducked back into the bedroom.
When he emerged from the bathroom, showered and shaved, Ku Ti was awake. "Good morning," Derek said.
The night's rest had helped to ease the lines of tension in her face. She slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. "What happens today?" she asked.
"I'm not sure. We'll have to see what our 'host' has in mind. The first thing I have to do is figure out exactly where we are."
Derek started pulling on his leather shorts; "Listen, while you are getting dressed, I'm going to see if I can do a little exploring. Wait here until I get back. I won't be gone long."
"Derek."
"Yes?"
"Be careful."
Derek made a thumb-up sign and quietly went out of the door.
The house seemed deserted. Even the air with its growing heat was still. Down in the courtyard, Garrett and the whipping frame were gone. The holes in the patio which had held the uprights of the arch, now held pots of pink and red geraniums.
Instead of taking the nearby stairs, Derek, dressed only in his leather shorts, padded along the U-shaped galleries towards the distant stairway. His barefooted thread along the tile boor was almost silent. A sound behind a partially opened door in the last gallery caught Derek's attention. Looking around to make sure that no one else was about, he crept closer.
Two nude boys, perhaps fourteen years old, laid curled together on top of a welter of bedclothes on a big bed. They appeared to be identical twins with roundish faces and wide mouths, dusty-brown skins and thick black hair as springy as heather. They were in the first surges of puberty. The pigment of their sex organs had already darkened and a small growth of kinky black hair covered the lower end of their flat abdomens. The growing balls, however, were still sheened with a mere down. Their pricks, the glans bulging under taut foreskins, had been sculptured into long thin shafts by the first spurts of sexual growth. The boys' lithe bodies were graceful and cat-like as they intertwined in a drowsy, possibly drugged, state. They seemed oblivious to the world and only slightly aware of one another. Could this be the joy-boys Toy had mentioned when he first arrived in Hawaii?
Derek shrugged and moved down the stairs to the ground floor. The lack of people was beginning to get on his nerves even if it did make his explorations easier. He moved fast, peeking into rooms, noting things that might be useful, like the study with its glass enclosed gun cases and the stairs leading down to the basement where the sound of an engine labored. Derek guessed that it was the power plant.
With his nerves taut, he finally decided that he had risked enough time and quietly trotted back up the bedroom and Ku Ti.
She looked relieved when he came into the room. "I was worried that something had happened to you," she said. Derek shook his head. "Hasn't anyone been around."
"No."
"That seems odd. Nobody is in the house. I wonder where they are and what they're up to. Well," Derek shrugged, "Let's go down and see if we can find something to eat."
The big house was still quiet and they saw no one as they descended the stairs. The lush greenery of the canyon, the soothing presence of running water and the shade created by the house, itself, produced a false sense of security and peace. They eventually found the (lining room with its massive table of dark wood. The earthenware serve for two at one end of the long table looked ridiculously tiny for such a large table. "The kitchen can't be far off," Derek said.
As he was heading for a door opposite the one they had arrived by, it opened and a Mexican girl, who was hardly more than a child, appeared. She was the same one who had answered the door the previous night. Making a small curtsy, she asked if they wished to eat now.
"By all means," Derek said.
"We have a nice Americano breakfast of bacon and eggs for you."
"Great."
The girl returned almost immediately with a silver pot of steaming coffee and an earthenware bowl of fruit which included fat red Dominic bananas. "Just a little minute," she said in her small voice and disappeared into the kitchen again.
As she was serving the food, Derek asked her where the others were. "I do not know, Senor."
"Have they already eaten."
"Si."
"Have they left the house?"
A look of worry wrinkled the small girl's face momentarily. She shrugged. "I do not know, but I think this is true."
"Where would they go? Did they leave by car or take the plane?" Derek pressed.
"Senor, these things are none of my concern." The girl started for the kitchen door but Derek grabbed her by the arm.
"What harm can come from answering my questions?"
Worry knotted the girl's forehead again, then she shrugged. "The noise of the jet is very loud, Senor. Did you hear it? Nor did I. The car, too, makes much noise but I didn't hear it either."
Derek nodded. "Where else are they likely to go?" The girl's dark eyes involuntarily glanced out the windows towards the patio and the mouth of the tiny canyon. "Into the canyon?" Derek asked.
"They have done so before."
"What's out there?"
"It is a garden, I believe, Senor."
Derek looked puzzled. "You believe? You mean you have never been in there."
"Oh no! Senor Shearer has forbidden it."
"Is Shearer here?"
"Si, Senor." She pried Derek's fingers off her arm. "Please I must go."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks. Just a minute. Is Shearer a tall gray-haired man?"
The girl nodded and dashed from the room. Derek guessed that she had probably told him more than she should have. Even so, it didn't give him much to go on. He said as much to Ku Ti.
"This is true," Ku Ti said. "But Mr. Shearer's friends have many strange customs." Considering the altered appearance of Shearer, the murder and the scene in the patio earlier this morning, Derek agreed. He hurried his meal. "Listen, while they're gone, I think we should get outside of this fort and have a look around."
"Is this wise?"
"If we want to get out of here, it's necessary."
INTO THE FIRE
Dressed in slacks and Derek's windbreaker, Ku Ti sat on the edge of the bed, waiting while Derek finished changing into long pants and a heavy shirt. "Please, Derek, I don't think we should do this. If they find us, they might harm us."
Derek stopped to consider for a moment. "We'll just say we're out sightseeing. Well, it might work."
"We've got to do this." He pulled her up into his arms. "I didn't want to tell you this for fear of upsetting you farther. But these are very dangerous people. You know your maid, what's her name? Su Linh? I saw Shearer's bodyguards drown her."
Ku Ti shrank away in horror, the color draining from her cheeks.
Derek went on: "I figure it's just a matter of time before they come after me. I know too much. Garrett told me about the opium fields and the drug smuggling and your kidnapping and now Shearer knows. He had Garrett whipped this morning for telling me. So you see, I have nothing to lose. And God knows, what they have in mind for you. Right now, you are their lever, but who knows how long that will last?"
Quiet tears coursed down Ku Ti's cheeks and her proud little body trembled. Derek held her close and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't give up hope, baby. Well get away. We're in Mexico and I'm pretty sure that we must be on the west coast of Baja California. I've been to La Paz before and know this part of Baja fairly well. I saw several tiny islands as we were landing and I think we must be up around
Bahia Magdalena. It's an isolated area north of La Paz on the Pacific coast. There's not many people around, but inland a few miles are some small towns. We can go there."
Ku Ti looked doubtful. "How far is it?"
"Well, it depends on exactly where we are."
"What's your best guess, then?"
"Maybe thirty miles."
"In this heat? Maybe you can get away. You can travel much faster than I. And bring some help back for me?"
Derek shook his head. "When we go, we have to go together. If they find one of us missing, they'll either kill the other or take off in that jet for God knows where. Try not to worry. If it looks easy when we get outside, we'll go right now. If the distance seems too great, we'll wait until late tonight. If anything, it will probably be too cold."
"I will try."
"Good girl."
The sudden knock at the door caused Derek to spin around as if he were expecting the charge of a wild beast. "Who is it?"
"Derek, it's me, Toy James."
Derek moved to the door but he didn't unlatch the lock. "Are you alone."
"Yes, please let me in!"
Toy, her cool elegancy gone, squeezed in as soon as Derek had the door open an inch. "Close it and lock it." The black girl was wide-eyed with fear.
Derek locked the door. "What's wrong?"
With her lower lip trembling, Toy looked on the verge of tears. "We have to get away from here. I think Shearer has gone insane."
"What are you talking about?"
"I overheard him issuing some orders to Milinda. They're going to hold some type of ceremony and they're going to sacrifice Joyce and a couple of little Mexican boys."
Ku Ti nearly swooned and Derek was stunned.
"Christ!" cried Toy. "Don't stand there, we've got to get out of here."
"Okay, you're right. That's just what Ku Ti and I were about to do. Do you know where we are? Have you ever been here before?"
Toy shook her head. "No."
Pacing, Derek tried to organize a plan. "What about the servants? Are they in on this-this ceremony."
"No, I don't think so."
"Where's this thing going to be held?"
"In that canyon. They're up there now. That's why we've to move."
"Okay, come with me."
With the girls trailing him, Derek burst into the room with the gun cases. He smashed the glass with a chair and quickly armed himself and Toy with .45 Colt revolvers and a handful of cartridges each. Ku Ti refused a weapon.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, he pivoted, his loaded gun aimed at the open door. The small maid and a big Mexican woman, similarly dressed, drew back from the doorway in horror. Derek grabbed them and pulled them inside. Pushing the door to within an inch of closing, he divided his attention between the servants and the hallway. "Who else is on the staff?" he asked.
The wide-eyed Mexican woman remained silent. Waving the gun, he repeated his question. "Who else?"
The small girl stepped forward. "My whole family. My mother and I cook and tend house while father and my two brothers look after the plane, boat and machinery."
Quickly, Derek explained why their lives were in danger and that they must flee. "I knew he was evil," the senora said.
"Where are your men?" Derek asked.
"They are at the airfield."
"Okay, you've got to join them. Is there a telephone in the house?" The child shook her head. "How long will it take you to drive to the nearest village?"
"This is not possible, Senor."
Derek stared at the girl. "What? Why not?"
"We are on an island."
"Oh, shit!" Derek was at a lost for a moment. "The boat! You said there was a boat."
"A big cabin cruiser, si."
"Does the boat have a radio? Okay, take Ku Ti and Toy and get on that boat and head for the nearest village. Radio the police as soon as you can."
Derek checked the hallway. The house was still quiet. "Okay, get going!"
"What about you?" Ku Ti asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"You go ahead. I have to see about Joyce and the twins." He took off on a dead run. "Derek! Derek! You can't, you'll be killed!"
Next to the waterfall, he found steps cut into the face of stone and climbed them quickly. Once upon the floor of the canyon, he stopped. The tumbling water masked any sounds and the thick green foliage cut off any possible view up the tiny canyon. A small beaten trail wound alongside the swift moving stream. Derek, his heart pounding and his palms slippery with sweat, cautiously inched his way up this. The steep canyon walls and tall trees cut out most of the light and heat. And though the temperature was several degrees cooler, Derek still sweated. Insects droned in the humid valley and attacked him savagely.
At each bend in the trail, Derek dropped to all four to peek around the dense jungle plants to see what lay ahead: always more curving trail. All sight of the hacienda was lost now. He prayed that the women were safely on their way. Cautiously, he continued to walk up the ascending canyon floor.
He became aware of the increasing noise and vibration of tumbling water as he continued up the trail. He inched around yet another curve. Before him lay a large clearing at the back of which white spray and spume rose in a rainbow of color above the stream which cascaded over a twenty foot drop to the pool at the back of the clearing. But it was the activity in the center of the clearing which first riveted his attention and then caused him to duck back into the shadows of the jungle.
The setting and the costumed people were obviously supposed to resemble the ancient Aztecs. Large, roughly hewn stones had been brought in to form a miniature step pyramid, surmounted by an alter. The bodyguards, Milinda, Garrett and Shearer, with a tall white plumed headdress, were all arrayed in colorful Indian costumes of feather and cloth. The two bodyguards held the limp, pale nude body of Joyce Engelsen. Caught between the grips of Milind and Garret was one of the twin Mexican boys which Derek had seen earlier. The youth's naked, lithe body flexed and twisted in a desperate attempt to escape.
Strapped spread-eagle to the alter stone was the other twin and standing over him was Shearer. Suddenly metal glinted in Shearer's upraised hand and then the dagger ripped through the boy's naked breast and Shearer tore the living heart out. Blood streamed down his uplifted arm and Derek could clearly see that the heart was still beating.
Aiming as best he could, Derek managed to empty the Colt in the general direction of Shearer before he gagged and was violently ill.
Several gunshots cracked the air from close by and he could hear people crashing through the jungle on either side of him. Struggling to his feet, Derek wiped his mouth on his sleeve and scooped up the gun to reload it as he pushed through the plants and vines.
His efforts were unnecessary, however, because when he stumbled into the clearing, Shearer, clutching a wounded shoulder, and all of his gang stood huddled together. Three Mexican men and Toy James held guns on them.
THE BEST IS YET TO COME
Derek slumped back into the comfort of the first class seat on the Pan American Flight from Mexico City to Los Angeles. Ku Ti Lai relayed a glass of champagne from the stewardess to him. "It's nice to be on our way home, isn't it?" she said.
"Yes." Derek sipped the icy champagne. The investigation of the brutal murder of the Mexican boy had soon exploded into an international three ring circus as the true identity of Shearer and his business was uncovered. Policemen, secret service agents and diplomats of Thailand, the United States and Mexico, plus representatives from the United Nations and Interpol converged on La Paz and for ten grueling days all the principles of the case were intensively questioned. Finally the Mexican authorities bowed to the pressure of the various embassies and the innocent parties were released, subject to giving testimony, if needed, at the trials.
Joyce Engelsen was transferred to a detoxification center in Texas for treatment of her heroin habit. Toy James, who turned out to be a native of Jamaica, elected to return to her island home. The servants, the Diaz Family, credited with a brave rescue, were forced into the bright spotlight of the Mexican press. As soon as they could, they melted back into the quiet countryside from which they had come. Once the military attache of Thailand arrived, Ku Ti rapidly regained her regal composure, despite the horrifying ordeal. And the American Embassy exclaimed Derek a hero. Derek smiled to himself, sipping more champagne. It was a role he didn't feel he had earned. But it had impressed his father enough for him to fly down with a special representative of the State Department. It was largely the results of the efforts of his father and the State Department man which had produced everyone's early release.
"You know," Derek said, turning to Ku Ti, "there's still one thing I don't understand. How did the Diaz men get to the canyon so fast?"
"Toy spotted the intercom which linked the house with the airfield and she had senora Diaz call them. They must have set a world's record for that old pickup of theirs."
"I see. Despite what the State Department says, they were the real heroes, you know."
Shaking her head, Ku Ti said, "This is not so. If you hadn't fired those shots wounding Shearer, he would have killed Joyce and the other boy before Diaz and his sons could have stopped him."
Derek drained his glass. "Well, I'm glad it's over."
"So am I and I'm looking forward to getting home and seeing my father. I know he will like you. He was disappointed when I didn't turn out to be the son he wanted. But I think he will settle for a son-in-law."
Derek smiled and kissed Ku Ti on the cheek. After learning that waiting wasn't the path to paradise, he was even more surprised to find that paradise didn't look anything like what he had imagined.
