In the dim light of a small lamp she could see the most distinctive feature of Stanley's bedroom. At the foot of the bed sat a huge, life-sized bronze Buddha.
The way it looked over the bed reminded Annie of her attacker-the one called Rafe-hulking over her on the bed in back of the bus, the male smell of him, the flash of his teeth in the darkness, the harsh feel of his hands, moist with excitement, probing her body.
Annie had always known that she was an instinctive creature, thriving on the physical. But this time her reactions were astonishing. Faced with the most dreadful encounter-group rape-she recognized the futility of resisting. She offered to accommodate them all. At the same time she realized she wanted to, she wanted to feel the closeness of all those men, their taut, sweaty bodies next to hers. As the men formed a circle around her, Annie's body responded speedily. Rafe lowered his trembling body to hers. Annie thrilled at the sight of his excitement, the massiveness of his passion....
CHAPTER ONE
She was disappointed and angry-she drove dangerously. Lips set grimly, green eyes blazing, her hands choking the steering wheel of the van, she sped wildly through the summer night.
That was her way. The way she dealt with herself. Whenever things went wrong, whenever she was frustrated or in despair, she became reckless. Excitement was her most dependable palliative.
By risking, intriguing, challenging, doing the unexpected, she could liberate herself from depression and anxiety. Excitement had priority on her attention. Excitement freed her from unpleasant thoughts and disturbing feelings.
On she rushed, driving madly, the speedometer needle wavering between 80 and 85. She passed a car on a hill. Tires squealing, she two-wheeled through a curve. Then, braking harshly, she screeched into a turnoff and went careening and bouncing down a bumpy dirt roadway. The woods thickened as the road narrowed. The van was brushed by foliage and battered by branches. At the shore of the lake, less than thirty feet from Don's cabin, she came to an abrupt and jerking stop.
She cut the motor and headlights, kicked off her sandals, and slipped out the door to the ground. The grass felt damp and fresh under her bare feet. The sound of crickets filled the warm air. Bright, reflected moonlight rippled over the surface of the water. But there wasn't time to appreciate the wonder and the beauty of the night.
Don couldn't have helped hearing her arrival. She could see him cross the lighted square of the cabin window on his way to the door. Quickly, she pulled her shirt over her head and threw it on the front seat. She stripped off her dungarees and panties at the same time and tossed them after the shirt. She wasn't wearing anything else.
She had the body of a goddess-tall, her long sinuous back and torso arched in a proud posture, big firm breasts, rounder than the moon, a narrow waist, flat belly, flaring hips, a pert, packed ass and lean athletic legs. In the light of the moon, she looked like a statue; except she lacked the lifeless order and stillness of carved stone.
Her uncombed yellow hair cascaded wildly about her face and over her shoulders, swinging with her every movement, gently feathered and blown by the summer breeze. Her breasts jounced and quivered as they rose and fell with her heavy breathing, induced by the reckless driving and the rush to shed her clothes. Despite the pallid light, there was no mistaking flesh for stone. Not this excited flesh, vibrant with expectation, flushed with exhilaration. radiating challenge, kindling promise....
The screen door banged shut with a metallic ringing of springs. Don loomed on the porch, barefoot, wearing only a pair of faded levis. She stepped toward him, permitting herself to smile for the first time since the scene with Claudia in the coffee shop. Damn Claudia. Forget her. Forget that creep. Here's Don. Now. She never ceased to marvel at the size of him. Big. Rangy. Broad chest with wide heavy shoulders and long muscular arms, the arms of a former All State end.
The sight of him and her anticipation quickened her speeding pulse and inspired the first warm droplets of lubrication in the depths of her cunt. She stopped a few feet from the two steps of the porch, not to study his body more, but to allow him to groove on hers. She drew her shoulders back and pulled in her belly. Her big breasts jutted out and up, casting rounded shadows on her lean torso. Glancing down, she saw one red nipple winking reflected light off its taut surface. She breathed deeply.
Don smiled down at her appreciatively. "Annie, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you and Claudia left today."
"Claudia copped out." As soon as she said it, Annie was sorry she did. Don began laughing. Annie's smile vanished. Her bright green eyes blazed with-renewed anger. Anger at Claudia. Anger at Don. Anger at herself.
"Why didn't you go by yourself?" Don asked her, snickering. She had no answer to that. She fumed silently. Her shoulders dropped. The pose of the provocateur was shattered. Don stood above her, his hands on his narrow hips, looking down at her. "So now you want to get laid." He shrugged. "All right. Come on inside."
"Fuck you." Annie spit the words. She turned and started back to her wheels.
She took two steps and heard him, felt him leap off the porch after her. She sprang to one side, just avoiding his grasp, and ran through the moist grass toward the lake. He was after her. The smile reappeared on her face. She plunged into the black water with a great splashing and went into a practiced crawl that carried her rapidly from shore.
She kept going. She didn't hear him calling her. "Come back. Come back you bitch, you crazy bitch.
You want to drown?" He was pulling off his levis and his jockey shorts. Naked and ready to swim after her, he hesitated because there was no sight or sound of her. He peered out over the black water in the chalky light for some sign of her. There was none.
She had switched to a slow, quiet breast stroke. Head above water, she headed to an intersection with the streak of moonlight that sliced the surface of the lake. In that light, she stopped, knowing he would see her there. She treaded water and watched until she saw him splash into the lake and begin swimming toward her.
He was heading straight for her, his powerful body churning up the lake as he came. She waited, breathing easy, getting her wind back. When he was about thirty yards from her, he paused to check direction. She waved a white arm at him and called weakly: "Don ... here ... help." She knew the sound would travel nicely over the water. He heard. He saw. His head went down and his strong arms and legs propelled him toward her.
She giggled, flipped over forward, and dove head first down to the bottom of the lake. She came up slowly, scanning the surface above her, searching for his silhouette against the moon-streaked water. When she spotted him, she aimed her head at the middle of him and stroked and kicked mightily, faster and faster, up and up....
She rammed him in the belly with the top of her head. Too bad. She was hoping for the groin. She surfaced to find him grunting and gasping. She had knocked the wind out of him. She treaded water and took in air. He was floundering. She moved in close to him. "Hold on to me, lover, until you get your breath back."
Gratefully, he draped his big arms over her shoulders and held on while she treaded to keep them both afloat. He tried to say something, but without air it was not possible to verbalize. He could only gasp.
"There, there," Annie purred softly, her hand briefly touching his face. "Just relax, lover. Don't try to talk. You'll probably say the wrong thing anyway." Annie laughed lightly. "You know you have a talent for that."
He could only gasp and hold on to her. Gradually, the gasping changed to panting and the panting to shallow breaths. He was breathing again. He let go his hold on Annie and started treading his own water.
"What an idiotic thing to do," he managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.
"If you're all right now, I'm going to swim in," Annie stated with an air of indifference.
"You'd better get out of here," Don croaked, warningly. "If I get you on shore, I'll turn you over my knee." He went breathless from the effort of so many words and began gasping again.
"Look lover, I'm tired from running away from you and swimming away from you and holding you afloat, so cool it. Just calm down and let me know when you don't need me anymore. I'm not up for treading water all night and listening to you making male ego noises."
He didn't reply. He was concentrating on his breathing. She moved away from him, hearing him respire more and more normally. "You sound all right now," said Annie.
"I'll be O.K.," he agreed.
"I'm heading back, all right?"
"Yes, go ahead. I'm fine."
She swam leisurely to shore. The air was warmer than the water so she felt no need of a towel or clothing. It was pleasant to simply let the warm breeze dry her body. She spotted Don's levis, spread them on the grass, and sat on them. She faced the lake, watching the moon, listening to the crickets, the gurgle of water lapping against the bank, the rustle of foliage in the summer air.
She was waiting for Don. She had no thought of leaving. Not with the prospect of more excitement to come. Would he really try to spank her? He had to catch her first. But she couldn't outrun him indefinitely. She had to consider other strategems. She began to smile as strategy slipped into fantasy.
She lay on her back, her body partly on Don's levis, partly on the dewy grass. She stretched, legs along the ground, toes pointed, spine arched, her arms reaching for the stars. She felt so good, invigorated by the swim, stimulated by the drama. When she heard him swimming slowly shoreward, her breasts began to tingle and her nipples expanded as they filled with, sweet anticipation.
She sat up to see him wading through the last few yards of shallow water, then trudging up on shore. "You still here?" He only glanced at her.
She crouching on one knee, poised for flight. "I wanted to see if you really meant what you said," she challenged him.
He didn't seem to hear her. He was searching for his clothes. He found his jockey shorts and snapped them in the air to shake loose any grass or dirt or insects.
"Damn, I know I left my pants right here. Where the devil are they?" He groped about in the dimness. "Only got the clothes I wore out here today. Rest of them are back in town at the house. Damn, can't ride my bike back to town without pants." He glanced toward the cabin to make sure his Honda was still parked at the side of it. It was. He resumed his search.
"Did you mean what you said?" Annie asked him again.
"What did I say?"
"You said you were going to spank me," she reminded him.
He stopped looking. He stood over Annie, looking down at her. She tensed, ready for flight. "I said that in anger," Don explained quietly. "Now I realized that nothing but idiocy can be expected from a 19-year-old child. And since I want nothing to do with idiotic 19-year-old children, I'm not going to spank you. And I'm not going to fuck you either, Annie," he added. "Now, where the hell are my pants?"
He would have liked to put on his shorts, thus affirming his statement, but he couldn't be sure, despite the shaking, that a spider wasn't clinging to the fabric. The moonlight was fading fast and it was too dark to see any detail.
Still crouching on one knee, Annie reached behind her and grabbed his levis. She carefully began gathering them into a ball. She was smiling, eyes bright with anticipation. Don had neutralized her challenge by issuing one of his own. Annie found it irresistible. Of course, she was confident that she could subvert his stand. Every man wanted to fuck her. Why should Don be any different? Yet there was a small kernel of doubt. And therein lay the spice. She knew Don could be strong. She both admired and resented his quality.
He had also made her delightfully furious by calling her a child. She was literally bursting with a joyous excitation as she considered the tactics she might use. All the while, she had been balling up his levis until she could now grasp them in one hand.
Don was walking about, sliding his feet around in the grass, hoping to make contact with his pants. Annie quietly tossed them further away into the darkness and stood up. There was only starlight now.
She saw him as a vague, whitish shape moving just a few feet to her right. She moved closer to him and began following him as he groped through the grass with his feet.
"I don't blame you for being pissed at me," she told him.
"Where the devil are they? I put them down in the same spot with these shorts."
"I'm really sorry that I hurt you."
He tensed. "I'm not pissed about that. What you did was dumb and dangerous. Calling for help like that. You know the story about the boy who called wolf? And there I was blowing a gut to save you and you go and...."He finished with an incredulous shaking of his head.
"You're right, Don. And I aw sorry."
"Sheer luck both of us aren't on the bottom right now."
It was an ideal moment to break into tears, but Annie discarded this approach as too easy. She would manage it without crying. "You were brave," she said.
"Brave?"
"Yes. Very."
"I was a damn fool. That's what you mean."
"Oh no, I mean. I realize that if I had been in trouble and not pretending, like an idiot, that you would have ... you would have saved me." He paused in his search for his pants and this enabled her to close the gap between them. She laid a hand lightly on his forearm.
He was puzzled. "I don't understand you. You butt me in the belly, knock the wind out of me, make me ridiculous, almost drown me, and now you say I was brave...."
"Oh. I never thought you were ridiculous," Annie protested. Her hand moved lightly over his arm. "I'm the one who's ridiculous. You were right when you wanted to spank me. I deserve to be spanked. I think you should do it. I'll even hold still." She had maneuvered herself from the side of him to the front of him without reliquishing her contact with his arm. Facing him now, her hand continued its lazy caress of his arm. She was standing so close to him that she had to look up at him. "Spank me," she pleaded softly. She inhaled deeply, as if sighing, and caused her right nipple to press against his hard chest.
He glanced down. So did she, and noted his cock, hanging in transition, half-hard, slowly rising. As she exhaled, withdrawing her nipple from his chest, she managed to angle her left leg in such a way that the knob of his steadily expanding cock hit the silken flesh of her inner thigh and went grazing over its surface.
"I don't want to spank you," he said softly, lovingly, a dreaminess in his eyes. Then, remembering: " ... or fuck you." The dreaminess was gone. He glared down at her. She looked up at him, sadly.
"I feel just terrible, Don. I need to ... do something. You will let me ... You will, won't you?" As she spoke, she sank down until her knees were pressing into the dewy grass. Cupping the stem of his prick in the cradle of her half-closed fist, she angled it upward. Her head dipped toward it until the oval formed by her lips slid, like a ring, over the surface of his stiffening cock. She took the whole knob into her mouth, drenched it with saliva and lapped it lightly with the edge of her tongue.
She heard him sigh softly as she worked. In a little while, his hands settled lightly about her head, his fingers moving lightly through her wet hair. Obviously, a gesture of approval. He wouldn't spank her. He wouldn't fuck her. However, he would allow her to suck him off, even if she was an idiot child. How nice of him!
Annie applied herself to her task. For her, the battle was joined. She'd be damned if he was going to cum in her mouth, pat her on the head, and call it a night. Not with her nipples stiff and yearning to be touched. Not with her cunt heating up and seething with honeyed juices. Not with her clitoris swelling steadily with increasing sensitivity.
She wanted his cock not where it was-so satiny and hard in her mouth. She wanted it rammed into the depths of her body, jammed in her hot cunt.
Until he did that to her, she would tease him out of his mind.
His cock was fully hard now, crying out to be stroked and sucked. But Annie tended it with excruciating delicacy. She held the trunk of it in the loose circle of her fist as lightly as possible, holding it just enough to control the angle of its stance.
She played her lips tenderly over the surface of the tip, never enclosing more than the swollen top in the warm, wet cave of her mouth. From time to time, she lifted her mouth and feathered her tongue very lightly over the tip of his cock. Sometimes, she just kissed it lightly, soft childish little pecks, a long series of tiny, teasing touches, designed to take him to the brink, never beyond.
She kept his rosy knob as wet as she could, using her saliva cautiously, spreading it with her tongue and mixing it with the pre-cum oozing out of his slit. This further reduced the friction.
The longer she tormented him, the better she got at it. She could read his state by the tenseness of his fingers in her hair. She could tell where he was by the quality and volume of his moanings and by the pacing of his breath. She learned precisely when to wind him down a bit, when to wind him up again, and just how far to take him.
She also discovered several delightful little vexations. She could make his legs tremble by running her fingernail lightly along his asshole. She could start his belly quivering and then jerking, simply by blowing softly into his pubic hair.
Diligently, she kept him on the edge of orgasm, on the side of madness, until he began to falter. First, he tried to ram his whole cock down her throat. He held her head fast in his two big hands and hammered with his pelvis.
Annie simply closed her mouth and his weapon slid harmlessly over her cheek. Soon after that, he began pleading.
"Annie, please," he whined. "Please. Suck. Squeeze. Can't stand this much more."
His need was not unmatched. By this time, Annie was bursting with want. Her cunt was open and seething with hot juice. Her thighs and her pubic hair were soaked. Her clit throbbed and ached for release. Shivering sensations washed through her belly and her breasts. But she fought them off and went on with her delicate sucking.
Deliverance came with the feel of his hands gripping her armpits, lifting her up. She came to her feet, a grin of triumph on her face. As his mouth covered hers, she snaked her arms about his neck and brought her body flush against his hard frame, slipping his huge, stiff cock into the damp, warm velvet sandwich of her thighs. She whimpered with delight as he rolled her tongue with his and then plunged his, deep and flickering, into her open mouth.
"Yes, oh yes," she breathed, as his mouth moved over her neck, up to her ear and down to her shoulder, blowing, licking and biting. His big hands lightly brushed the length of her back, then stroked and squeezed her firm, round buttocks. A hot burst at the base of her spine sent streams of rippling pleasure flowing through her loins and into her thighs. "Yes, yes, yes...." This was what she had been yearning for-his big hands exploring her body, his hard cock throbbing in the squeeze of her thighs, his lean body pressing against her softness....
She went wild in his arms. Though her feet were still, braced on the wet ground, no other part of her was still. Her arms coiled over-his wide shoulders and around his thick neck, her fingers playing in his hair, stroking his neck, kneading and scratching his sinewy back. Her big breasts rolled and slid against the firm flesh of his chest, their rigid nipples flipping and flopping over the bony ridges of his ribs. She bumped and twisted her cunt into his groin, her soft blonde bush meshing electrically with his darker pubic hair. And all the time, she was rolling his stiff cock between the hot moist flesh of her thighs.
She was without mind, only flesh, young and firm, torrid with desire, twisting and slithering and grinding against him.
She felt him try to pull away, but she held him fast, trapping him with her thighs, her arms, her lips. "Let's go inside," he whispered in her ear, his breath sending more shivers down her already shivering spine, and lighting more fires in her already molten loins. Again he tried to disengage, but she held him and went on with her dance. "Better there ... the bed...."
But she was beyond reason. Beyond making a reply. She had no dialogue with him. The dialogue was between his cock and her cunt. She slipped down into a crouch and took his prick in both her hands. It was soaked with the ooze from her cunt. On its bright red tip, several droplets of his own clear fluid were clinging. Tenderly, she spread his fluid and her juices over the entire surface of his cock. She anointed the very tip of it with her tongue and then she rolled onto her back in the wet grass.
"Fuck me," she told him simply and opened her thighs for him. Above, she saw the star-filled sky. Then he loomed over her, blotting out galaxies. She felt his cock bounce along the inside of her thigh and she raised her ass off the ground, tilting her cunt to welcome him, her toes curling in the dew.
She felt his cock nudging past her oiled and open labia and she gasped. Then his long, thick prick was probing her cunt, in and up, parting the hot, wet walls, going slowly, steadily, deeper and deeper. One last lunge and the tip kissed the trembling membrane that guarded her womb. She cried out with delight. For a long, preparatory moment his rod rested in her cunt; she savoured the feeling of being empty, filled with his power and her own pleasure. Then he began to move, pulling back and plunging in, slowly at First, then gradually increasing the pace, varying the angles of descent, left-right-up-down, his cock finding every fold and cranny, activating each nerve, turning her into pure sensation, making her nothing but shiverings, tremblings, sparkings, the heat and the flood, nothing but feeling.
She bounced her ass up and down off the damp ground, rubbing her clit against the side of his pumping prick. She twisted her cunt around him, making him cry out and speed up. He was reaming her savagely. She felt herself splitting apart before his onslaught, splitting, then fragmenting, melting....
The sensations were everywhere. She didn't know where her cunt was anymore or her tits or her ass or her arms or her legs. She was shooting straight up and out of herself and there were the stars again, only a thousandfold more of them, a thousandfold brighter, exploding with heat so hot it was like ice.
She hung there for an oblivious moment and then dropped back into a body that was jerking in spasms, writhing in wet grass, crying into the summer night. The jerking subsided. She was only quivering and beginning to find her mind again when she heard his deep roar of release and felt his fiery cream spraying into her cunt, such a delicious feeling that she came again.
He collapsed on her, his head Finding the cushion of her breasts. There was only their breathing. She cradled him with limbs and flesh. Calm. She looked up. There were the stars, far away again.
CHAPTER TWO
A starry sky is a source of undiminishing delight, but not when a 190 pound football player is lying on you. So Annie interrupted her euphoric study of the heavens to squirm out from under Don. When she got to her feet, she prodded his prone figure gently with her toe.
"Come on, baby, take a dip with me," she invited.
Don rolled onto his back. "Too tired," he told her. "I got to go to work tomorrow." He sat up with a sigh. "I got just about enough left to get me to bed."
"You can't go to bed with all that dirt and grass all over you," Annie argued.
"Just watch me," Don chuckled, then yawned.
Annie shrugged and turned down toward the water. She waded in up to her thighs before sliding down into the lake and going into a leisurely sidestroke. She swam a wide circle, out, around, and then curving back to shore. Don was gone when she emerged from the water. She found him in the one-room cabin on the bed as he had promised. He was lying flat on his back, legs and arms spread widely, sound asleep and snoring. His body and the bedclothes were spotted with caked mud and drying grass.
Annie considered waking him up, goading him on again, or just annoying him, or both. He might even spank her. If she managed to get him to do that, he would have broken both pledges he had made-a goal not without attraction for her. Or he might end up fucking her again.
She decided that she really didn't want to be spanked or fucked again. Though she was not ready for sleep, her mood had changed. Her mind was returning to the events that had brought her out to Don's cabin in the first place. But now calm, her former fury was replaced by melancholy. She was feeling soft and sad. She might have cuddled up next to Don if it weren't for the mud, the grass, dried sweat and dried cum.
Instead, she found a cigarette, lit it, and went back outside. Sitting on the porch step, she could see the van she had driven out earlier. How hard she and Claudia had worked on it. All summer long. A '66 Chevy van, it no longer bore any resemblance to the dry cleaning delivery truck it had once been. The entire surface of the vehicle had been painstakingly decorated with an astonishing psychedelic mural in the brightest Day-Glo colors-yellows and reds and greens, violet, blue and orange, polka dots and curlicues, stars and comets, fingers pointing to esoteric slogans, signs of the Zodiac, trees made of people and people made of flowers, elms, roses, coconut palms, petunias....
For more than a month now; beginning in July, Annie and Claudia had worked on the bus every single day. Not merely the intricate painting of the body, but the interior of the van as well. A plywood platform had been constructed in the rear. Under it was storage space. On top, it was covered with a foam rubber mattress, cut to size and forming a large bed. The bed was adorned with flowered sheets and a colorful patchwork quilt. A low table had been screwed into the floor at the side of the bed and a reading lamp had been fastened to the wall above the bed.
The floor of the truck was overlaid with a thick, peach-colored carpet. Cushions of various sizes, shapes, and colors were piled on the bed. Posters of rock stars were fixed to the side windows, the walls, and even the ceiling of the van. Janice Joplin seemed to be looking in from outside. The Beatles were climbing the walls. Dylan gazed down serenely from the ceiling. A tape deck had been installed and an extra set of speakers was wired in the back. There was even a small gas heater, supplementing the regular car heater, which could warm the bus when the motor wasn't running.
A lot of work had been done. Much it had been inspired by a comparative amount of dreaming. They had built themselves a home on wheels designed to carry them as far as their imaginations were willing and able to go-to new places, new people, new thoughts, new feelings. All through the weeks of work and preparation, they had spoken to one another wistfully of the time when they would be on the road, totally free, with nothing to answer to but their own whims and fancies.
Departure became more and more imminent. A week ago, Claudia had quit her job, managing Harvey's Book and Record Shop. Just this very morning, both Annie and Claudia had stowed their sleeping bags and suitcases under the bed platform. Their collection of tape decks was placed in the glove compartment. They were ready to go. They planned to take off that afternoon. Yet that afternoon, Claudia copped out.
So instead of being on the road, beginning her adventure, Annie sat sadly on the steps of Don's cabin, the smoke from her cigarette wisping into the warm night, her mind turning back to Berelman's Coffee Shop, with Claudia sitting across from her in the booth; saying that she had decided not to go.
Annie was astonished as well as angry a dual and difficult set of emotions. "I don't believe this," was her first response. "I just don't believe what you're saying, Claudia. If you're putting me on, it's, not funny."
Claudia brushed a lock of dark brown hair from her face. Her large brown eyes were filled with concern for Annie. "I'm sorry Annie, but I'm not putting you on," she said as gently as she could.
Annie's green eyes flashed. "You bitch! I thought we were friends."
Claudia squirmed in her seat with discomfort, but she didn't turn away from Annie's fiery, accusing look. Her dark eyes maintained their concern and their contact with her friend. "I thought we were friends, too, Annie," she replied evenly. "I hoped you would be happy for me."
"Happy for you?" Annie exploded. "My God, Claudia, for months now we've been talking about what crap marriage is, and that we don't want to be owned by a man or anyone, and how lucky we are to be living in a time when a woman can truly be her own person, free to travel and experience, to live her own life and learn to be a full human being, and now Henry, who you told me yourself is a big bore, Henry just snaps his fingers and you throw over the whole trip, all the work on the bus, all the plans, everything; you just throw it over and me right along with it."
Annie lit a cigarette with nervous fingers. Claudia was breathing deeply and biting her lower lip. She looked like she might cry. "He didn't just snap his fingers," she protested. "He asked me to marry him...." Annie snickered and blew smoke. "And I never said he was a bore," Claudia continued. "Sure, we both know he's not exaetly a hipster, but that's because he's worked so hard to...."
"Shit," said Annie, crushing out her cigarette stub in a metal ashtray.
A brief pause. When Annie said nothing more, Claudia went on with her reply. "And I never said those things about being a woman in these times. You're twisting it all around, Annie. I said was it good to be able to be free as long as you couldn't love and be loved, but you know that's always been first for me."
"You don't love him and he doesn't love you." Annie laid it on her hard.
Claudia was thoughtful for a moment. "We can grow into loving one another. We have someplace to start from. You see, he's asked me to marry him because he just ... he can't, well he can't stand to see me go away."
Annie jumped on that. "So all this was nothing more than a game, all the work on the bus, all the talk, the whole thing, just a game to get Henry to propose."
That was too much for Claudia. She began to cry. "Oh Annie," she sobbed," how could you say a thing like that?" Tears glistened in her hurt brown eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
Annie looked at Claudia crying and stood up. "Shit," she said from the side of the booth table. "Shit." She struggled fiercely to extract some coins from the pocket of her tight jeans, then tossed the coins disdainfully on the table to pay for the coke she had barely touched, and stormed out of Berelman's Coffee Shop.
The van was parked in the municipal lot, just around the corner. Annie pounced behind the wheel and roared out of the parking area. She sped straight out Elm Street to the highway, running a stop sign, cutting off a mail truck, and almost hitting a barking terrier as she went. On the highway, she headed north, toward the Ohio River, keeping it at 80. Just before the bridge, she swung off the road and parked in a grove of apple trees.
The river bank lay only fifty yards down a grassy incline. She went about halfway down the slope and just stood there, looking across the wide flow of water to the other side, glancing up at the bridge and the traffic moving over it. She was standing in Kentucky and the far bank was Ohio. She had been there, of course, but that was just about everywhere she had been.
Kentucky. Ohio. She was nineteen years old and that was all she knew. Beyond the river and beyond Ohio lay other beckoning lands. For Annie, beyond Ohio was a concept, not a direction. All places lay beyond Ohio. It meant New York and San Francisco. It meant Canada and Mexico. The Atlantic and the Pacific. Paris and Peking. Canberra and The Congo. Xanadu and the Land of Oz. They were all beyond Ohio.
Suddenly, she screamed out at the top of her lungs. "Damn you, Claudia. Damn your soul, you chicken-hearted bitch." The sound dissipated in the wide expanse of the summer twilight. But the effort left her breathless. She inhaled deeply to replenish her air and her unencumbered breasts moved against the fabric of her tee shirt. The friction inspired a stiffening of her nipples, followed by a warm interior flush. Beyond Ohio meant sex, too. Beyond Ohio was peopled (or manned) by an infinite host of objects for her lust.
Henry. The thought of him made her head nod softly, a gesture of incredulity. Henry was a creep. All dentists are creeps. He'd be a creep even if he weren't a dentist. This made him a real creep. Claudia would stay home, make babies, do laundry, cook dinner and grow old. Henry would cop feels off his girl patients while drilling their cavities and blowing bad breath in their faces.
"Claudia, why?" Annie asked the darkening, unresponsive day. But she knew the answer. Claudia was twenty-six and still living with her parents. She was lonely and desperate for a chance to have a man, children, love. The sparsity of possibilities in a declining rural area had magnified her problem. She'd lost all sense of her worth as a woman and, for the past few years, had been involved with men who were less than herself.
Claudia have never told any of this to Annie. Annie wasn't sure how much of it was known by Claudia herself. But Annie had read it in little awkward pauses between words, revealing the embarrassment of spinsterhood, and in fleeting facial grimaces, disclosing the tensions between Claudia and her parents, and in the caution with which she approached men concealing from them her intelligence and even her goodness, for fear of frightening them off.
Claudia, you stupid bitch, don't you know that you're young and beautiful and bright and out there lies a whole world full of studs just itching to get their hands on you. Beyond Ohio.
Annie turned around and looked back at the parked bus. I ought to go alone, she thought. It wasn't the first time since Claudia's copout that this had occurred to her. I ought to do that. I should. I must. But she knew she couldn't. Claudia is scared because she's twenty-six. And I'm scared because I'm nineteen. The insight and the admission of her own fear turned her anger against herself. She tensed with this new fury and went quickly back to the bus.
It was almost dark now. She headed back to town, driving even more recklessly than before. As she went, she berated herself. Queen Annie. She knew that was the name the town used for her, behind her back, of course. Mechanics called her that and bank tellers, cooks and clerks and cops and schoolboys. Queen Annie. And everyone of them had wet dreams about her. Some of them drooled at the sight of her. Most of them were afraid to come on to her. Big. Blonde. Wild. She intimidated them.
Big deal. Queen Annie. Afraid to take the trip by herself. Just another bullshit bitch. Probably end up marrying a dentist. She was merciless with herself. And this made her more and more angry.
Now in the town, she drove past Macker and Son, the local optometrists. The son was Don Macker who played football up at State until he graduated five years ago. Annie wanted him now, needed him, but the store was closed. All the stores were closed. She hadn't realized how much time she had spent out at the river. She turned a corner and the clock in the barber shop told her it was nearly nine.
She figured Don was out at Big Pond. He had a cabin there. Although he lived with his family in town, he spent most nights at the cabin during the mild months. And seldom by himself, Annie estimated. He was probably screwing some girl out there right now, Annie conjectured. So she couldn't go there. For her, it was usually there or Claudia's. But Claudia was with Henry the Creep, for sure. Making wedding plans. There was no place to go except home.
When she arrived, she cut the headlights, but not the motor. She pulled up across the street from her parents' house. Over the idling sound of the motor, she could hear their voices, lofting out the open kitchen window into the quiet night.
"I don't want no more of your lip, hear?" Annie heard her father tell her mother, so every neighbor on the street could hear.
"I won't have you saying things like that to me," Annie's mother's shrillness made her father sound melodic. "Shut your goddamn mouth."
"Bully. Stay away from me."
"Fat-assed bitch, I'll...." A thud. Perhaps a chair overturned. A crash. No doubt, a dish in smithereens.
"Annie's coming home any minute, so just you keep your distance or else...."
"That whore. Fat-assed bitch and dirty little whore, that's who I live with, that's who, damn you...."
A scurrying noise as they dashed about the house.
"Ugh," her father bumped into something. Her mother whinnied appreciatively. Annie didn't stick around for the rest of it.
She slid the bus into gear and tore back out to the highway, turning south this time, tearing up the road toward Big Pond. If Don had another chick at the cabin, tough shit! Annie didn't care anymore. She was bursting with an incredible assortment of painful thoughts and feelings. Claudia. The cancelled trip. Her parents. Herself. This town. Despair and anger. Disappointment ... anxiety....
It was all gone now, gone with the day and the night that was to be the beginning of her great adventure. Gone. She sat on the steps of the cabin watching the first soft light appear in the night sky. She pictured herself getting in the bus and just driving it into the lake. Splash. Bubble. Gurgle. Done. Headline: BLONDE DROWNS IN PSYCHEDELIC BUS.
She wasn't serious. Very sad she was, but she was nineteen, a new day would soon be dawning, and....
Was that a light coming down the road? It looked like a bicycle....
CHAPTER THREE
Claudia's hair was a wonder. She wore it braided in two thick walnut ropes. The rest of the time, she tied it up or pinned it up in one way or another. Such was its incredible length and richness that to wear it loose in public caused a great deal of undesirable attention: the snide observations made by the sort of young men who hung out at the poolroom, or those insensitive comments yelled by passing motorists (usually truckers) for all in earshot to hear, or those long, low whistles on the street, sick whistles she called them, because though admiring in tone, they were without any warmth and reduced her to something, only sexual, not human.
But now she wore it unbraided, untied, unpinned, unencumbered in any way, falling in its full, brown glory down the entire length of her back, the ends curving to follow the swell of her naked rump. It glimmered softly in the shaded glow of the single lighted lamp in Henry's bedroom.
She could see him through a half-opened door, in the bathroom, the sound of running water. He was brushing his teeth vigorously. Like a dentist should, she thought, smiling, moving over the carpeted floor on bare feet toward the wall mirror above his dresser. It was hung high and and angled out from the top so, looking up at it, she was met with a full-length image of her naked body.
She wished, as she often did, that she had more flesh on her frame. But if a witch were to offer her a more voluptuous body in exchange for her hair, she would refuse the trade. She knew she was delicate and not thin, and though she seemed small because of the daintiness of her structure, she was actually above average height, standing just under five-six.
Claudia-a fragile collection of subtle curves and slender lines molded to a small-boned frame, free of any surplus flesh that might conceal her intricate composition, the sculptured connection of bone and sinew, a symphony of light and dark, the gleamings and the shadowings changing with her every motion. Despite the leanness of her body, there was nothing hard about it. Her flesh was slight, but rounded, her skin, satiny to the sight and silken to the touch.
In the mirror, she noted that some strands of hair had fallen forward over her shoulders and threaded downward, following the swell of her breasts. Tits, formed high and firm, and tipped by surprisingly large pinkish nipples. She gathered the strands of hair with her fingers and threw them back over her shoulders to fall with the main cascade down her back.
Briefly she traced her fingers around the huge circles of her nipples, then lowered her hands to the sweet, slight rise of her belly. Inside was a warm, happy glow, an inner light of love. To be loved, to be loving, this was Claudia's ideal. Henry was still brushing his teeth.
She dropped her hands from her belly, letting them slide slowly down past the pert flare of her hips and over the surface other tubular thighs, framing for a moment, the dark full forest of hair between them, and finally falling free and hanging at her sides. She was musing about the girlishness of her legs, the legs of an early adolescent, nicely shaped and long, but not the least bit womanly. Funny legs for a bride. Yes, she was thinking of herself as a bride.
True, she and Henry weren't married yet. Nor was this the first time they were sleeping together. But tonight she was a bride. He loved her and she loved him and that, for Claudia, was the essence of bridehood. Never mind the paperwork. She loved the brown, doe eyes, damp with ardor, the wet lips parted in anticipation, and the delightfully swollen nipples expanding with expectation.
He had given her, that very afternoon, all she had ever wanted. A chance to love. What simple words he had used! How boyishly direct he had been!
"I want us to be engaged." That's what he'd said. Her heart fluttered every time she recalled that simple statement. For her, it was epigrammatic. She imagined it engraved on parchment in gothic lettering, sealed in a vacuum case, under glass.
He'd left the bathroom now. White silk pajamas. She followed him in the mirror as he came up behind her. smelling of soap and toothpaste. She watched his hands floating on either side of her, drifting toward her tits, then covering them with cupped palms. As he began a gentle kneading of her breasts, Claudia closed her eyes and leaned back luxuriously against his silk covered body. "I love your hands," she whispered.
"Gentlest hands in town," said Henry, unable to resist a professional allusion. Or was it a joke? Claudia found it difficult, very often, to determine whether or not he was kidding. He was so seldom not serious that any appearance of humor in his normally drab style seemed to be a mistake.
She stopped wondering about it, realizing that there would be time enough to figure him out. Other matters demanded her attention. His fingers were worrying her nipples and the love glow in her belly was being washed by a hot wave of passion. His lips were planting light kisses on the nape of her neck, making her shiver deliciously.
When he began licking her ears with his tongue, she felt her cunt begin to sweat and open. Now his fingers were twisting and rolling her stiffened nipples, provoking a hot tingling flush that spread like fire through her loins and down her legs. For a moment, she thought her knees would give way under her.
She leaned back against him more heavily and felt his silk shrouded cock prodding her rump. She wiggled her ass, making his rod bob and bounce and be rubbed by her rounded flesh. He murmured softly, a low soft sound of pleasure. "Claudia," he moaned her name and when he did, she pirouetted in the circle of his arms and, facing him, pressed into him. His hands, robbed of her tits, dropped to cup the satiny, rounded fruits of her ass.
He pulled her to him and rolled his pelvis against hers. Claudia circled her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers, flicking his tongue with her own, and then using it to tickle his ears and his neck. She could feel his cock caught in the middle of their pelvic grinding and trapped in the wrinkled silk of his pajama pants.
"Oh please, Henry, take off your pajamas, please." One last lingering, tonguing kiss and Henry stepped back to unbutton his top. Claudia went to the bed and lay down on her back, arranging her hair so that it (lowed out to the sides and upward, to prevent it being pulled and tangled in the action to come. This created a flowing aura of glistening walnut about her face. Surrounded by it, she lay quietly, awaiting her lover.
Unlike Annie, Claudia was without lust. Annie sought her own gratification while resenting the man who could give it to her. Claudia needed to be taken, but only in order to give; her gratification was dependent on the pleasure of her partner.
So Claudia lay quietly, awaiting the initiative of her lover, watching him doff his pajamas.
Henry had a strange physical distortion. No matter how often she saw it, Claudia never ceased to be amused by it, an amusement that she kept to herself, of course. It was his arms.
In general, Henry was not muscular. He wasn't flabby. He had good body tone, befitting a man of only thirty years. But he did not have an athletic build. Except for his forearms. From elbow to wrist, they were thick and sinewy with strength, a development that had resulted from constantly having to pull people's teeth. And since his upper arms were rather slim and lacking any bulge of bicep, they were, in shape, reminiscent of Popeye. Only once, having drunk some wine, did Claudia ever tell him he had Popeye arms.
"Very funny," he had replied in a flat, menacing drawl and thereupon said not one more word to her the entire evening.
He was naked now, joining her on the bed, his knees urging her thighs apart. She would have liked more fore-play but it was not her style to interfere. He was in charge. She didn't act; she reacted. His long, thin cock slipped easily into her. She hadn't realized how open and sopping she was. His entrance was so smooth that it caught her unaware. His cock slipped, unresisted, right down to the bottom of the well. The suddenness seized her with an inner lurching, so powerful, so soaked with heavy sensation, that she rocketed right up to the very brink of orgasm.
She hovered there, his prick thick and motionless inside of her, while every tendon in her body tensed and every nerve began to quiver. She couldn't believe what was happening. Orgasm, for Claudia, was a delight only seldom experienced, occurring usually when love or hope of it was present, and even then it required effort and patience.
Yet now, after some minimal foreplay and a single penetration, she was right there, teetering on the edge. "Oh God," she cried out, driving her pelvis demandingly up against his, tossing her head from side to side on the pillow. Another inner lurch and she went flying out and over, falling free, thrown about in space by a series of wracking convulsions, her whole body shuddering savagely from toe to fingertip.
In the ensuing calm, she sighed and smiled euphorically. She opened her eyes to Henry who was grinning down at her with the leer of the conquerer. She felt him sliding his cock slowly up and down her cunt. "So strong," she told him, softly, smiling, inspiring him to pick up the pace.
Her arms curled over his shoulders and the inner flesh of her thighs rubbed his flanks as her legs went winding about his back. His head dipped into range of her mouth and she kissed and licked his eyes, his lips, his ears. She needed his release now to complete her own and she goaded him on toward it, rolling her little ass on the bed, under him.
Henry's face was tight now. Sweat poured off his brow and dripped down over her face, her neck, her tits. Their bodies squirmed against one another, the friction oiled by their perspiration. It made her feel like he was all cock and she was all cunt, her cunt, wrapped wet and hot around his cock.
"Oh now, now," Henry groaned loudly. "Now!" She felt him jerking and spurting inside her. It was too much for her. the heat and the damp, the melting and shivering sensations. She went over with him, spilling and spasming, overwhelmed with astonishment as well as pleasure. She came a second time.
"Never," she told him, "never before." She ran her fingers through his moist hair. "That's never happened to me before ... twice. And the way it happened the first time ... Ohh, Henry...." She lifted her head from the pillow and bent to kiss him on the top of his head.
With her head back on the pillow, she went on feathering his hair with her fingers and sighing deeply. "Oh, it's going to be so nice. Being married. Loved and loving. Together and trusting." Claudia understood that Henry's proposal had been the prime factor behind the lushness of her sexual experience. It had freed her from all those imprisoning feelings of being used, allowing her to open herself completely.
"Oh I can't wait until we're truly living together." She squeezed his leg between her thighs and squealed softly like a child getting a candy bar. "Henry, let's not have a wedding and all that. Let's just go get married. We could even do it today. I've got to get away from that house. My parents are driving me crazy."
"You know that's not possible," said Henry, moving lazily against her body.
"Of course, you have to work today." Claudia smiled and ran her fingers over his shoulders. "And it will take a few days to get the license and all that...."
"Claudia." Henry leaned up on his elbow and looked down at her. "You're not ready to get married today, and you won't be in a few days."
"Why did you ask me then?" Her face was puzzled.
"I asked you to be engaged to me," Henry explained. "So we can have time to work it out."
Claudia felt her hitherto relaxed body going tense again. "Work what out?" she asked.
"Your...." Henry paused while his eyes changed to emphasize the difficulty and importance of what he was about to say. "Your immaturity." he told her with an air of finality.
Claudia went up on her elbow now to face him. "Henry, I'm twenty-six years old."
He dismissed this evidence with a brief shrug. "Your age means nothing," he told her, introducing her to his personal style of mathematics. "You're still a child."
"And just how long do you figure it's going to take for me to grow up?" Claudia wanted to know.
"I thought perhaps ... well, let's give it six months or so and then...." He shrugged.
Claudia sat up abruptly. Their bodies weren't touching anymore. Every connection was broken. "Henry, listen to me. I'm a woman. A woman. Think about that. I don't want to get up now and go home so I can wake up in my own bed for the sake of appearances. I want to sleep here with you and wake up with you. I want to make a home for you. I want to have your children. I'm ready for all of that and I have been for some time. I want to start now, Henry. If you're not ready, then don't blame me by telling me I'm a child because I'm not. I'm a woman."
He shook his head. "Of course, you can't see...."
"See what?"
"Take this whole matter of the trip, for example," Henry told her. "Going off in a painted bus with a foolish little teenager like Annie. Not even knowing where you're going. Just going. Quitting your job the way you did ... By the way, I spoke to Harvey and he said you can have your job back. He hasn't found anyone...."
"Henry, nothing's changed, has it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Our engagement. It doesn't change a thing. I'm still going to be living at home with my parents. I'm still going to manage Harvey's shop. And I'm still going home to sleep after we make love. So nothing's changed, has it?"
"Well, now we have an understanding...."
"Maybe I do. But you don't," said Claudia and she slid off the bed and started putting on her clothes.
Henry laid down. "You'll see it more my way in the morning," he predicted.
"Ummph," she said angrily, pulling her panties up her thighs and settling them around her dry, cool loins. She draped a skirt over the panties and buckled a wide belt around the waist.
"Wait a minute and I'll take you home," Henry offered..
"Don't bother." She was buttoning a sleeveless blouse.
"No bother," Henry assured her. "I want to go alone," she told him. "It's late," he cautioned.
"It's only three blocks." She slung a tote bag over her slim shoulder and went to the bedroom door. She hadn't tucked her blouse into the waist of her skirt and her hair was twisted and snagged in disorder, falling in front and in back and even off the rounded edges of her shoulders.
"See you tomorrow," Henry called.
She didn't answer. She went out the bedroom, through a living room, down a flight of stairs, past his office. She caught a glimpse of the dentist's chair and the drill, the magazines on the waiting room table, and then she was out in the street, walking briskly through the quiet night, her clogs clicking noisily on the pavement.
She didn't go into her parents' house. She went into the garage instead. Her bicycle was parked in there. She dropped her tote bag and her clogs into the handlebar basket, rolled it out to the driveway and pedaled off with her bare feet.
She crossed town without seeing a soul on the street. At Annie's house, she dismounted, leaned the bike against a lamp post, and padded quietly over the lawn to the window of Annie's bedroom.
The window was open. Claudia peered inside. No sign of Annie. The bed was made. She went back to her bike, got on it, and began pedaling out toward the highway. If Annie wasn't home at this hour, Claudia was almost certain she'd find her at Don's cabin.
She gave no thought to the six miles she would have to cover to get there. She just pedaled.
CHAPTER FOUR
Annie was standing at the side of the bus when Claudia's bike came bumping out of the woods and into the clearing by the shore. Seeing Annie, Claudia stood down and leaned the bike against a tree. She took a few tentative steps through the dewy grass toward Annie and then stopped. There were perhaps ten feet between them.
"I hope you're glad to see me," said Claudia, softly, hopefully.
Annie sighed deeply. "Oh yes, yes I am," she replied. "Claudia, I ... I'm so down, just so down...."
"Oh Annie, I'm so sorry I...." She dove across the distance that parted them, threw her arms around Annie's lush body, and hiding her head against Annie's shoulder, broke into tears.
"You were right, so right," Claudia sobbed. Annie's arms were folded around her. "I'm not a good friend. I am a copout and a bitch. A stupid bitch." Annie hugged Claudia to her and stroked her back and her hair. She was beginning to cry, too. Tears rolled out of her green eyes and down her soft cheeks.
"I was feeling so miserable," Annie whined. "Just sitting on the steps feeling miserable."
Claudia's outburst of emotion was subsiding and she became aware of Annie's nakedness. God, how big Annie's tits are, she was thinking. And how good the feel of them against her, their warmth and their softness. She had an impulse to stroke them, to kiss them. The nipples . ... She caught herself and the thought shocked her. She pulled back, dropping her arms. Annie let go of her.
Quickly, to cover her embarrassment, Claudia adopted a hard tone. "Annie, I want to go through with our plans," she announced.
Annie's face brightened. Her smile shone through her tears. "What about Henry?" she asked.
"Well, there's no reason not to. All our stuff is in the bus. I guess we ought to sleep a little before...."
"Hell no," Annie interrupted. "I don't need any sleep. Let's go."
"Where are your clothes?"
"In the van." Annie opened the door and got into her clothes almost as quickly as she had gotten out of them a few hours earlier. Then she was behind the wheel. "Come on, get in," she called to Claudia.
"But my bike...."
"You don't need your bike."
Claudia laughed. She ran to the bicycle, gathered her clogs and tote bag in her arms and ran back to the bus. Annie started the motor. Claudia was on the seat beside her.
"Oh, one thing before we split," said Annie, letting the motor idle. She slipped out of the bus. The sun was just about to explode over the horizon. It was easy to find Don's trousers and undershorts. Annie picked them up and carried them back to the bus. She shoved it into gear and rolled into the woods toward the highway.
On the way, she told Claudia of this vision she had of Don riding his motorcycle back to town without pants.
"With his thing hanging out," was the way she expressed it, making them both explode with laughter. Once they were on the highway, Annie grabbed the pants and tossed them out her window. Claudia threw the shorts out her window.
"Wow, what a sight to see," said Annie. "Big Don Macker on his motorbike...."
"With his thing hanging out," Claudia finished and they both giggled wildly.
"Almost worth hanging around to see it," said Annie.
"Nothing's worth hanging around this place," Claudia told her.
"Oh you're right, you're so right."
They were driving north. On their right, the sun was just bursting over the horizon. They passed the turnoff that led to town and went on to the bridge and over it into Ohio. The sun was fully into the sky when they reached a junction. Annie slowed to a stop.
"Which way?" she asked.
"I think East is best," Claudia answered. "It's still summer and it's warm in New York. We can dig it there until the weather gets cold and then we can split west for San Francisco. What do you think?"
"I think that's pretty good thinking," Annie responded happily. She put the bus in gear and turned right. As they gathered speed, she yelled out: "Big Apple, here we come!" Claudia laughed. So did Annie.
They drove, laughing, into the sunrise.
CHAPTER FIVE
The van was parked on Second Avenue near Saint Mark's Place, in the heart of the East Village. It had been parked where it was since the completion of their journey that morning. It had taken them twenty-six hours. Except for a four hour sleep-stop on a Pennsylvania roadside, they had driven straight through. Some of the time, one of them napped in the back while the other stayed at the wheel.
Though they were both still extremely tired, it was impossible for them to sleep. There was just too much happening on the street. The sights, the sounds, the smells. A hot, late August sun was baking the garbage on the street, its odor mingling with gas fumes from the heavy traffic. Motors and horns and pneumatic drills joined in cacophonic discord. In the midst of all this air and noise pollution, the new people, the freaks, paraded in their garish beauty.
Men with waist-length hair wearing purple pants. Girls in granny dresses, their bells ringing as they walked. Girls in summer minis so short that they barely covered their nubile, young asses. Hippies and Yippies. Peaceniks and Panthers. Mods and mystics.
The van with its psychedelic paint job drew attention from the passing parade. Annie and Claudia had already entertained several visitors since their arrival. The first, an astrologer named Saturna with long, flowing black hair and strange, grey eyes who was wearing a tattered, white, lace gown, told Annie that her sign was Aries.
The meaning of this, Saturna explained, was that Annie had unlimited energy, enjoyed physical effort such as sport, was very impulsive, dug danger, and liked having things her own way. Turning to Claudia, Saturna figured her to be a Pisces which she defined as a gullible person who was extremely emotional and eager to make sacrifices in the service of an ideal such as love.
Having thus amazed them with her accuracy, Saturna found it an easy matter to collect a fee of five dollars each. Once she had this money in hand, she promised them that a full horoscope would yield even more insight and detail and, in addition, a prediction of the future. All for only twenty-five dollars. She left a business card.
Saturna was followed by two speed freaks who babbled incessantly, sometimes coherently, both chain smoking and grinding their teeth. They stayed for more than an hour and tried to talk the girls into giving them some money so they could score what they described as "dynamite grass." Claudia was all for giving them the money, but Annie was smart enough to realize that they would never come back and she held firm.
A couple with a pregnant poodle wanted to sell them one of the puppies. A guy with his head shaved, wearing a yellow toga, taught them a Hindu chant and begged a dollar for Krishna. He got it. Then came Stanley Spinner, They were resting in the back of the bus when he knocked at the door. Annie opened it. She saw a short, thin, smiling, young man with a round, freckled face, homely but somehow pleasant. He was wearing old-fashioned wire spectacles and, although he was clean shaven, his lank sandy hair was long, falling in uneven strands about his skinny neck and around a set of large ears that stuck out from his head like directional signals.
His loose shirt with long, flowing sleeves was tie-dyed purple and red. He wore white trousers, sandals, and on his head sat a colored skullcap with sequins and beads woven into the fabric. In his hand was a card which he was offering to Annie. He had a huge mouth and it was grinning widely, exposing big teeth.
Annie took the card and read it. On it was his name: Stanley Spinner. Under it was written: Film Maker. In a corner was an address and a telephone number. Claudia had come to the door and was reading the card over Annie's shoulder.
"What sort of films do you make?" Claudia asked.
"Documentaries," Spinner answered.
Annie was eyeing him suspiciously. Visitors had already cost them eleven dollars this morning. Spinner noticed the way Annie was blocking the doorway.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, making a shy gesture with his head. "I saw your bus, the painting on it, the license plates, and, well, I just couldn't resist." He flashed a toothy grin. "I had to meet the people inside. Are you really from Kentucky?"
"Yes," Claudia told him. Annie was about to say something about the long drive and how tired they were, but Spinner was too fast for her.
"Ahh, adventurers from a fabled land," he poeticized grandly. "Blue grass and mint juleps. White haired colonels," he rhapsodized. "You can see why I just couldn't pass by without meeting you."
Claudia was smiling back at him. "Want to come in?" she invited over Annie's shoulder. Annie was still blocking the door.
"Of course," Spinner answered. "If I'm not imposing...." He turned his grin on Annie and she stood aside, grudgingly, allowing him to enter the van. "Ahh, delightful," said Stanley, now inside and looking around.
"A veritable home on wheels." He sat on the edge of the bed. "But surely you're not sleeping here while you're in New York?" he asked them.
"Where else?" Annie responded.
"Parked on the street?" Spinner asked in disbelief.
"Sure," Annie replied.
"You've been doing that?" he queried.
"Well, not yet," said Annie.
"We just arrived this morning," Claudia explained.
"Ahh, then you haven't actually done it. You must be careful, you know," Spinner warned them. "The streets aren't safe."
"We'll manage," Annie snickered.
"You're very brave," Spinner flattered her. "But let me suggest that you park further east tonight. Near Tompkins Square Park. It's only a few blocks from here and it might be safer. No guarantees, of course, but since you are going to park and sleep in the bus, well, I feel it's my duty to suggest the park. I believe you'll have less chance of being molested there."
"We can take care of ourselves," Annie informed him, haughtily.
Claudia frowned at her. "Thanks for your advice, Mr. Spinner," she said. "It's kind of you to be concerned."
"My pleasure, but please call me Stanley," said Stanley, resuming his toothy grin. He got up from the bed. "If you have any trouble or if you need anything, you must call me. Night or day. It doesn't matter. I sleep very little anyway. And don't wait for trouble to call. I'd be pleased to have you visit me and perhaps I can show you a bit of the city." He chuckled, making his way to the door. "A little hospitality, Northern style," he gruined at them.
"You're very kind," Claudia smiled. Annie was quiet, surprised that he was leaving without trying to sell them something.
"You have my card." Stanley was poised at the door. "But I don't know your names."
"I'm Claudia and this is Annie."
Stanley repeated their names, looking from one to the other. "Delighted," he told them both. And then he was gone.
Claudia closed the door. "He's nice."
"Funny looking," said Annie.
"Is that why you were rude to him?" Claudia demanded.
"I just didn't trust him. I still don't."
Claudia shrugged. She settled behind the steering wheel. "Well, I'm going to take his advice. We need some sleep and I'm going to drive over to that park." She was checking a street map. Annie saw no reason to protest. One parking place was as good as another. So not much later, Claudia parked the van on East Tenth Street, adjacent to Tompkins Square Park. Before they got to sleep, they had another visitor.
They were drawing the curtains when a girl knocked at the door. She couldn't have been older than seventeen and probably younger. She was dressed in tattered clothing and was carrying a baby swaddled in rags. She told an incredible tale of woe involving addiction and eviction, accident and disease, mugging, rape and betrayal. Claudia gave her five dollars.
"That's a total of sixteen dollars this morning," Annie calculated. "And we haven't even gotten out of the bus yet."
"You know you couldn't have sent that girl away without giving her something," said Claudia.
"I would have liked to try," Annie replied, but she was smiling. They finished drawing the curtains, locked the van from the inside, and slept, undisturbed through the remainder of the day.
At twilight, they were awakened by the sound of electric music. Out the window, they could see a crowd gathered in the park for a rock concert. They left the van and mingled with the audience. Pot was being passed around and they smoked. They talked to some people, fended off a rap from two guys whom they considered too conceited, listened to some music and ended up resting on a park bench, just beyond the area of main activity.
Behind the bench was a grassy area and they overheard a conversation between two girls who were sitting on the lawn, their backs to the bench.
"...it's really a groovy gig. I pick up the baby at nine in the morning and take care of her until six when her mother gets back from work."
"What's so groovy about that? That's eight hours and you said you only get ten dollars."
"And lunch. But dig, I'd do it for nothing. You see, as soon as Mommy is off to work, I put the baby in rags and myself too and I walk around with her, telling all kinds of horror stories and looking just awful. I panhandled fifty-two bucks today. I did eighty last Tuesday. I always make at least forty. By myself, I'd be lucky to grub twenty. But with the baby...."
"I'm hip. That's great. Gotta find me a baby-sitting job."
Claudia and Annie left the bench in silence. They didn't bother to even look at the girl, to make sure she was the same one. It was obvious. They walked slowly back to the van. It was dark now. The concert had come to an end. In the bus, Annie stripped to her panties and stretched out on the bed. Claudia puttered about, putting things in place.
"That nap we had was just a taste," Annie yawned. "After that drive, I feel I could sleep for a week." Claudia went on puttering around. "Aren't you going to sleep?" Annie asked.
"I gave that girl five dollars," said Claudia and Annie saw that there were tears in her eyes.
"Forget it," said Annie, lightly.
"I feel so foolish," Claudia whined, tears in her eyes.
"You acted in a good way," Annie told her. "If that girl is a phony, that doesn't make you any less good and certainly not foolish."
Claudia sighed and sat on the bed. "If you get too mistrustful, then you close up and you miss a lot of nice things, don't you think?" she asked Annie.
"You have to take the bad with the good," Annie phiosophized. She closed her eyes. Claudia looked around. The curtains were drawn. The doors were locked. She flicked off the light above the bed. Darkness. She lay down next to Annie. For a while they lay listening to the night noises, traffic, voices, footsteps passing on the pavement. They drifted into sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Neither one of them heard the coat hanger being slipped through the side vent on the driver's side. Claudia woke to the click of the inside door handle being pulled back by the wire.
"Oh my God," she gasped as the door swung open. A dark figure lunged across the front seat to open the other door. Suddenly there were two, no three, maybe four dark figures looming inside the bus. Claudia screamed. Annie sat up abruptly. Claudia was still screaming. She was being dragged off the bed.
Voices. Something was said in Spanish. "Shut her up." Claudia was gone. Two figures were scuffling at the side of the bed. "Get off. La rubia es mio." A hard body joined Annie on the bed, big hands grabbing at her, gruffly, one of them twisting her arm, the other tearing at her panties. She fought the impulse to resist.
"Cool it," she said to her assailant, managing to force her free hand to his face where it moved lightly, a touch aimed to calm, a gesture of surrender. "You don't have to hurt me," she told him. He relaxed his pressure on her arm and, instead of trying to rip off her pants, began working them off her hips. Annie raised her ass off the bed to help him. "Listen," she told him quickly, "tell your friends to leave the other girl alone. Tell them I'll take them all on."
He started to laugh. She saw his teeth flash in the darkness. "Hey," he called out to his friends. "This one wants to take us all on. She doesn't want her girlfriend to have any fun at all." He shook with laughter.
"She'll have fun. I'll see she does." The one who answered had dragged Claudia off the bed and muffled her screaming by jamming his forearm against her mouth. He had both of her wrists locked in the grip of his other hand and was holding them behind her back. The third one now snapped open an evil-looking knife and held it close to Claudia's terrified eyes.
"You scream again and I'll slice you, understand?"
Claudia couldn't nod, but her eyes told him that she understood. He gestured with the knife to his cohort and he relaxed his grip, letting his forearm drop to Claudia's bosom. His hand cupped her breast and squeezed painfully. "Take off her panties," he said to the one with the knife. Claudia was wearing pajamas. She felt them being torn from her by a knife and hand. She was trembling wildly.
In the distance, there was the sound of a siren. "Pigs," said the one with the knife, pausing from his work. "Nah, they're nowhere near," said the other who was kneading Claudia's naked tits. "Dig the size of these nipples," he chuckled. The siren was coming closer.
"Hey Raf," the one with the knife called to the big one on the bed with Annie. "Hear that?" It was getting even closer.
Raf had shoved his pants down to his knees and was crouched between Annie's open thighs, getting set to fill her exposed cunt with the stiffened cock he held in his hand. "It's nothing," he muttered, but he paused to listen. The sound was coming closer.
"We told them to check us from time to time," Annie lied. "They must have seen the open doors."
"Mierda," Raf tensed at her words. "Idiotas!" he yelled over his shoulder. "You left the doors open." The siren was coming even closer. He pulled his pants into place and leaped off the bed. "You left the fucking doors open, you creeps. Come on, let's split." The siren couldn't have been more than a block away now. All three of them rushed out the open doors of the van.
When Claudia was released, she fell to the floor and lay there shivering with fear. Annie sprang off the bed, jumped over Claudia and into the front seat. She pulled both doors shut, slid behind the wheel, started the motor, and shot out of the parking place with a squeal of rubber and raced down the night street. The police car went by on a cross street somewhere behind her, the siren fading into the night. It never turned down Tenth Street.
It didn't matter. They had escaped. She had driven all the way west to Fifth Avenue, passing several red lights, before she slowed down and looked back to see how Claudia was doing. She was still on the floor, but she had risen to her knees. She crouched there, half-naked, the remnants of her ripped and cut pajamas hanging about her body in strips.
"Are you all right?" Annie asked.
"I think so."
"Do you think you can get me my jeans and a blouse?" Annie asked. "In a minute."
Annie drove around. Claudia was still shaking when she climbed into the front seat, bearing Annie's clothes. "Where are we going?" Claudia asked.
"Somewhere where there are lights and people and a telephone," Annie replied. "We're going to call Stanley Spinner."
"I thought you didn't trust him," said Claudia. Her lips were trembling and her voice quavered. "We have to trust someone," Annie answered.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stanley came through like a white knight. On the phone, he directed Annie to his apartment house in the West Village. He met them on the street in front of the-building and had the doorman escort them up to his pad while he parked the bus in an underground garage.
His apartment consisted of a large living room with an alcove containing a kitchenette, and a smaller bedroom with a bath opening off of it. A large section of the living room floor was covered with thick foam rubber matting covered with fabric and piled with dozens of cushions of all sizes and shapes. Stanley called this area "the playpen." The rest of the room was conventionally furnished with a settee, some chairs, a table.
When Stanley arrived, he found them both resting on cushions in the playpen. Claudia looked wan and haggard and tremored from time to time. Annie told him that they would both just fall out where they were, but Stanley insisted they take the bedroom. He ushered them into it, bid them sweet dreams and left, discreetly closing the door behind him.
In the living room, his face, serious until now, broke into his toothy grin. He opened a closet door. On the wall, were a number of switches. He flicked a couple of them. Still grinning, he put some music on the record player and turned the volume down low. Then he settled into the playpen, propping some cushions against the wall, he rested against them and opened a book he was reading.
Claudia fell asleep almost as soon as she got into Stanley's large bed. But Annie lay beside her fully awake. Unlike Claudia, who had been drained by the horror of their experience, Annie had been refreshed and stimulated by it.
In the dim light of a small lamp they had left burning, she could see the most distinctive feature of Stanley's bedroom. At the foot of the bed sat a huge, more than life-sized, bronze Buddha. The statue was set facing the bed. Stanley had briefly explained that this positioning made him feel secure, for it enabled the god to keep watch over him while he slept.
The way it loomed up over the bed reminded Annie of her attacker-the one called Raf-hulking over her on the bed in back of the bus, the male smell of him, the Hash of his teeth in the darkness, the harsh feel of his hands, moist with excitement, probing her body.
How clear and perfect her reactions had been in that most chaotic moment! Annie had always known that she was primarily an instinctive creature, thriving on the physical, responsive to crisis. But this time, her reactions had astonished even herself. Faced with the most dreaded reality a female can encounter-group rape-she had instantly recognized the futility of resistance. At the same time, she had realized that Cl-audia would panic and, because of it, might be hurt or even killed.
So she offered to accommodate them all as a means of getting some control over the situation. The suddenness with which she hit on this invitation surprised herself. But what was even more amazing was that it wasn't just her mind that was clear and quick, her body, too, functioned speedily and automatically.
If the siren hadn't sounded, Raf would have driven his ready cock into her cunt,-fully lubricated, a welcoming pussy. And Annie was certain that she had not been very excited. Her cunt had simply responded, in harmony with her head, to the danger.
No, she had not been aroused during the incident, but now, the memory of it was getting her hot. In the dimness, the big Buddha statue hovered over her and became Raf. She imagined him raping her, forcibly fucking her with a giant, hard cock, reaming her hard, making her melt and spasm. This image was supplemented by another Annie making their getaway, naked at the wheel, and then another image Claudia on the floor of the bus, her pajamas in shreds, trembling with fear.
The images continued, overlapping like a triple exposure on film, the rape, the getaway, Claudia. Annie's hands moved over her naked breasts, her palms rubbing her rigid nipples back and forth. She began a gentle rolling of her thighs, pressing them together around the heat and the damp forming between them. Her clitoris was stiffening and throbbing, aching to be touched and her hands moved down her torso slowly, over her belly until her fingers slithered into the edge of her pubic bush. And still the images. The rape. The getaway. Claudia.
Claudia. She stirred in her sleep. Annie tensed. She realized she had been rocking the bed. She lay still until she was sure Claudia wouldn't awake. Then she slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. It was mirrored on three walls and carpeted. Very lush. Annie had no way of knowing that when she flicked on the light switch, she also set in motion two concealed movie cameras, cleverly arranged in concert with the mirrored walls so that every part of the room was in range of one lens or the other.
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, studying several reflections of her nakedness. She feathered her fingers over her breasts, tweaking and kneading, while she rolled her hips, squeezing her thighs around her hot, creaming cunt. Her hands slipped down to the tops of her thighs. She watched the images of several Annies as her fingers probed into her cunt hair and her thighs parted.
Slowly, she sank to the soft carpeted floor. She fell gently on her back, her legs parting and bending, placing her knees high and wide, her fingers moving through the torrid, sopping complex of her genitals, stroking her labia, tweaking her clit, rummaging the interior of her cunt, churning up the hot cream.
Her big breasts heaved and quivered; her belly began to tremble; she jerked her hips, lifting her ass off the floor. She was panting quickly and making little whimpering sounds as her nerves and sinews tensed more and more, as the total stimulation mounted higher and higher.
Only two images alternated in her mind now. She had lost interest in the rape fantasy. She was titillated by the excitement of driving naked to make their escape. But for the most part, she was concentrating on the memory of Claudia, naked except for those tattered shreds, trembling on the floor of the van. Finally, there was only Claudia. Claudia abused. Claudia frightened. Claudia's pajamas ripped into rags that couldn't hide her vulnerable nakedness. On the floor. On her knees. Claudia. Naked. Her long hair. Her lean body.
With three fingers wildly probing her cunt and two fingers of her other hand working and worrying her clitoris, with the image of Claudia inspiring her, Annie played herself over the edge. Her legs were shaking, her head tossed to and fro throwing her blonde hair over her face, her whole body was wracked convulsively. For a long moment, she was nothing but a seething mass of fleshy pleasure. She called Claudia's name softly.
Then her body melted into the carpeting. Her drenched hands fell to her sides. Her knees went down and her legs lay spread on the floor. She was still except for her heavy breathing and the rise and fall of her lush, spherical tits. Her eyes were closed.
When she opened them, there was an expression of puzzlement in them. Did she want to make it with Claudia? The question was too heavy to even consider. She shoved it out of her mind. When she left the bathroom, she flicked off the light, unaware that this also stopped Spinner's cameras. She went back to the bed and slept as far as she could to one side.
CHAPTER EIGHT
At Stanley's insistence, Annie and Claudia went on staying in his apartment. He made it extremely difficult to leave. Every day he took them somewhere-to museums, to the zoo, the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, everywhere from Fifth Avenue to Coney Island. And each night he squired them to dinner, to movies, to plays, to night clubs, discotheques and coffee houses. He gave up his bedroom completely to them and opened up a stash of prime Mexican pot for their unlimited use. The girls were either too occupied or too stoned to even think about moving out.
Claudia was delighted and excited by everything, including Stanley. She found him a fascinating source of knowledge. Through music and paintings and books, he opened up to her a new and formerly unimagined world. She was especially drawn to his interest in Oriental writings which went so deeply into her favorite subject: love. Claudia began to understand her desires and her womanhood in a whole new light.
Only about a week before, love had meant marriage with Henry, getting out of her parents' house, getting a house of her own and children. But that all now seemed a thousand years past. Now she had discovered a new kind of love defined by idealism, sacrifice and acceptance, a love that sought spiritual communion. Such ideas were easy for her to digest since they confirmed the undefined feelings she had always possessed.
For Annie, their new situation was hardly as captivating as it was for Claudia. Of course, Annie was pleased to be toured about the city, fed interesting food, and entertained in so many different ways. But to her, Stanley was ugly and boring. She also resented him for monopolizing Claudia's attention. Although the three of them were together all the time, Annie felt alone a lot, cut off as she was from much of the conversation that absorbed Claudia and Stanley.
Besides being bored and resentful, Annie was also frustrated. In her movements about the city, she was constantly seeing beautiful and interesting men. In theatre lobbies and restaurants, in buses and on the streets, she was forever spotting them. The city seemed to be filled with arresting males of all sizes and shapes and types. But they were always going somewhere or coming from somewhere on their way to somewhere else. There was simply no chance of meeting any of them.
She came close one night. They had gone to an East Village coffee house where a guitarist and folk singer named Jed Raymond was performing. He really turned Annie on, with his soft, twangy, Western voice, his long, lanky frame and a weathered face framed by long, blond hair. And he was quite aware of her. His eyes kept twinkling at her while he sang and played.
Then when he finished, he got up and started over to their table, smiling at Annie. But he only took three steps when he was suddenly surrounded by admirers, lots of girls and several distinguished men who bore him off in another direction. He looked back at Annie over his shoulder as he went, smiled and shrugged.
She could have waited around, but Annie wasn't the waiting type and besides Stanley was taking them to a midnight concert. A flamenco guitarist direct from Spain. So they left.
After a week of this, Annie was ready to split and she told Claudia.
"Is it because you don't like Stanley?" Claudia wanted to know.
"I just want to go. I mean, we were taking this trip together and now...." She didn't finish.
"But we're on the trip," Claudia countered. "It's New York. The Big Apple. And we certainly are getting to see it all because of Stanley."
"We're seeing his New York. I want to see my New York."
Claudia sighed. "You see, it is Stanley. You just don't like him. We both feel it from you."
"All right. I think he's a creep."
"That's not fair," said Claudia. "You forget how nice he's been to us. Taking us into his home after that terrible night. Giving up his bedroom to us. Never making a pass at either one of us. Wining and dining us...."
"He looks like Alfred Newman," Annie giggled.
Claudia was forced to smile. "Maybe he's not pretty, but he's a good person and he knows a lot. You can learn a lot from Stanley."
"Claudia, I want to go. I want us to be together and on our own again."
Claudia was first thoughtful and then smiling. "Look, tomorrow he's taking us out to his beach house for a couple days. That'll be fun. Sun and sand. Neither one of us has seen the ocean before. Right? And then when we come back...."
"We leave then?" Annie asked.
"Yes, er, probably ... We'll see about it when we get back. Is that all right?"
"All right," Annie nodded a reluctant agreement.
They set out for the beach house early the next day. Like many New Yorkers, Stanley didn't own a car, so they went in the bus. It was the first time it had left its garage since Stanley parked it there the night of the attempted rape. Annie felt like driving it, so Claudia got in back and Stanley sat beside Annie to direct her.
"We have to pick up someone before we leave the city," Stanley told Annie. Then he gave her directions. Annie weaved the bus through the heavy traffic.
"Who else is coming?" Claudia asked Stanley.
"Oh, just a friend of mine. He wants to get some sun and fresh air. His name is Peter."
Peter was waiting for them on the front steps of a brownstone on a quiet Chelsea sidestreet. As soon as Annie saw him, she was sorry she was driving. She would have liked to get in back with him and rip the clothes off him right then and there. He was the most sexual chunk of male she had ever seen.
He had the face of a poet-bearded, and topped with a wealth of black hair, a long, sensitive nose, full, red lips, demanding gray eyes under dark, heavy, brooding eyebrows. His body was that of an acrobat-thick, brown arms with bulging biceps, exposed by the blue and white shirt he wore, wide shoulders, a broad, hard chest, an incredibly narrow waist and long muscular legs outlined by tight summer jeans so well molded to his body that his unaroused cock protruded conspicuously, stretching the blue fabric at the juncture of his thighs.
Annie was thinking about trading places with Claudia, but Stanley was busily directing her to drive the bus. There was no chance to make the change, not a chance to stop in the heavy traffic, not a chance to stop in the tunnel to Long Island, and not a chance to stop on the parkway filled with traffic rushing at high speed.
With the van going sixty, the rush of wind and the steady hum of the motor made it impossible to trade talk between the front of the bus and the rear. They were split into two couples. Annie was doomed to take the two hour ride with Stanley while Claudia was grooving with Peter in the back. At one point, hearing them laughing together, it became too much for Annie. She told Stanley she was thinking of pulling off the expressway so Claudia could take over the wheel.
"I wouldn't mind driving," Stanley grinned. "Go on and pull off."
"Oh never mind, it doesn't matter," Annie decided with futility. "We'll be there soon, won't we?"
"Not too long now," said Stanley, lighting up a joint which was then passed around. The pot was a comfort for Annie. In a breezier state of mind, she concluded that she would, inevitably, end up with Peter. Claudia and he simply did not fit together whereas it was certain that she and Peter would gravitate together, both of them sharing their excessive sexuality.
She thought ahead to the beach. She would really turn him on when they got to the beach. She had this orange bikini, one of those rare hand-me-downs (from a cousin) that just happened to really do things for her. It didn't fit right. The pants were too large, loose at the hips so they were constantly slipping and gaping, providing glimpses of the crack of her ass. And the halter was slightly too small, crushing her big tits together and forcing them to billow upward and outward, more exposed than concealed. When she put that on, Annie was sure Peter would not be able to resist getting it off her. She drove the rest of the way, relaxed.
Stanley's house was a simple summer clapboard cottage. One of the two downstairs rooms served as living room and kitchen while the other was a bedroom. A stairway led to the bath and another small bedroom in the attic. Annie and Claudia went upstairs to change while Peter and Stanley used the bedroom on the ground floor. Since the house was only a few blocks from the beach, they walked.
It was a perfect day, warm as August, yet the September beach was uncrowded. Annie doffed the loose shift she was wearing and checked Peter for a reaction to her orange bikini or rather to the body it negligently concealed. But he didn't see her. He and Claudia were busily talking, sitting on a blanket that Stanley had spread on the sand.
"The sun feels so good," said Annie, taking a deep breath and stretching her arms and her body toward the bright, blue sky. Only Stanley acknowledged her gesture with his toothy grin and a brief nod of his head. Peter was still talking a mile a minute with Claudia.
Annie slithered down on the blanket right next to him, stretching her body in a prone position this time, with soft sighs of pleasure. "It's so hot. It feels so good." But Peter didn't even glance at her.
So she sat up, pulled a plastic bottle of sun tan lotion from her beach bag, and made a great show of applying the cream to her body, using her hands to call attention to every detail of her body, sliding them along the long line of her legs, letting them linger lightly on the insides of her thighs, spiraling them sexily over her belly, spreading the lotion coyly over the rounded surfaces of her tits. But only Stanley was watching and she held his interest only part of the time.
Finally she tapped Peter on the shoulder and asked him if he would oil her back. "It's the only place I can't reach myself," she explained.
"Sure," said Peter with an accommodating smile. He took the bottle, shifted around, quickly spread the oil on her back, and gave her back the bottle.
"Thanks a lot," said Annie.
"Don't mention it," Peter assured her and turned back to Claudia, showing no sign of anything toward Annie except impersonal politeness. Annie was fuming. Was Stanley grinning at her or just grinning like he usually did? Was he mocking her or was that her paranoia? She couldn't be sure.
"I'm going in," Stanley announced and he was off down the beach toward the wide sea.
"Would you like me to put some of this on your back?" Annie asked Peter, trying still another time.
He smiled at her graciously. "No need," he explained. "I'm so dark I never burn."
"It says on the bottle that it helps tan quicker and more evenly," Annie told him, sounding like a commercial.
"No thanks," he smiled at her warmly and then bent and whispered something in Claudia's ear. Claudia smiled and nodded and got to her feet. So did he.
"We're going for a walk," Claudia told Annie. "We'll be back soon.
Annie watched in frustration as they walked off down the beach. They went about thirty yards and then Peter took Claudia's hand in his. Annie lay back abruptly and closed her eyes. A few minutes later, she opened them to the sound of someone. It was Stanley, dripping wet.
"Boy, the water's cold," he reported, rubbing his skinny body dry with a towel. "Where'd they go?"
"For a walk. They'll be back soon."
But they didn't come back at all. Annie was left with Stanley for the afternoon, skinny Stanley, wearing a nose guard and totally absorbed in a book he was reading. He didn't say a word to her. Once she asked him a question just to break the silence.
"What are you reading?"
"The Kama Sutra."
"What's that?"
"It's the Hindu book of love. It tells all the different ways there are of making love," Stanley explained.
"Mmmph," Annie replied and settled for silence.
When the sun was low in the sky, Stanley started gathering their things together. "We'd better get back. I want to get the charcoal going. We're going to cook some steaks."
"What about them?" Annie asked.
"Oh, Peter knows the way back to the house. He's been here before. They might even be back there now."
Stanley was right. They were back at the house.
CHAPTER NINE
There was only one small window in the room. Light filtered through it and across the wide bed. Claudia's nakedness was streaked by afternoon shadow, afternoon sun. Above her, the white wood paneled attic ceiling. In the distance, the sound of the sea.
Peter's cock churned in the hot, sticky depths of her cunt. Claudia's head was whipping back and forth in a paroxysm of lust. Peter had been fucking her for an hour. First she had blown him. They'd walked to Stanley's house, hand in hand, both conscious of what was to come. Silently, they had ascended the stairs and entered the bedroom. They'd stopped by the bed, hands on each other's hips, no words necessary. Claudia's mind was awash with conflicting thoughts. She didn't love this man, not yet anyway, but she was going to make love with him and pursue her ineffable goal. For the first time in her life, she forgot about love and concentrated on sex, hot and simple.
He'd unfastened her bikini top and her soft breasts, dotted with sand, sprung forth. Gently he squeezed them and she sat on the bed in front of him, her mouth at the level of his cock. As he kneaded, she pulled his tight trunks down his lean thighs and his erect cock bobbed and pulsed in front of her face. Claudia was breathing heavily. She couldn't believe that she was about to do this, blow a stranger. She grasped the shaft in her small hand and pulled him to her mouth. Peter groaned as her tongue touched the tip of his cock and commenced swirling, licking the swollen head. He tried to insert himself in her mouth, but Claudia kept him away by pushing at the shaft of his penis. Then, slowly, agonizingly, she lowered her mouth to the hot cock and allowed the head to enter her. She let it lay there, letting her saliva wet it and mix with the pre-cum, drooling out of the hole in the head.
"Ohhhhh, suck me, Claudia," Peter whispered. She nodded her head, cock in mouth and started a slow, sliding movement, swallowing half the stiff shaft and gently releasing it until only the head was within her warm lips. Claudia gloried in the feeling; she felt delightfully humiliated. A man was standing in front of her, his thick cock in her hot mouth. He was fucking her mouth and she was sucking, urging him to shoot his creamy cum down her slick throat. Her hands were on his ass now, pulling him into her. As Peter's movements quickened, Claudia felt powerless to stop him. She was controlled and controlling. All she had to do was take her mouth off his cock and the movement would stop, but she couldn't. She wanted that hot cum in her mouth, the salty jism on her tongue, the cock spurting while she swallowed.
And then Peter shuddered and Claudia tensed. He was about to shoot off. She gasped as the first thick drop splattered at the back of her throat. She didn't have time to savour it, like it or dislike it, because it was followed by more spasmodic spurts. Peter was groaning and tensing as his cum shot down her throat. His hands were hard on her head, pulling her to his belly, tightening the connection between his cock and her suckling mouth.
When he'd finished, she'd smiled and pulled her bikini bottom over her firm ass. She stroked him to stiffness again and then her mind wandered as he probed the entrance of her cunt, wet with desire and juice. At the insertion, she cried out-he was so much bigger than Henry who seemed a million miles away. But she'd adjusted to his rhythmic thrusts.
"Oh my God, Oh Peter ... oh, oh, oh," Claudia cried as the first wave of her orgasm enveloped her hot body and lifted her off the bed. As the feeling peaked, Peter shot his cum into her orgasming cunt, his strong arms clutching her fragile body to him, squeezing the breath out of her. Then they lay silent and time seemed to stop as the sun streamed through the window on their sweaty bodies.
"They're back from the beach," said Peter, his head on her breast.
"I hear them."
"Want to go downstairs?"
"You go ahead. I'll come down in a little while."
"I can wait until...."
"No, please, I'd like to lie here by myself for just a moment. Then I'll come down."
"Whatever you say."
She watched him dress, studying his muscular male grace. His looks were incredibly pleasing, his body was rugged yet flexible, his face so animal in its sensuality yet sensitive at the same time.
Ajinie hated Claudia. She hated that soft, liquid look about her when she came down the stairs and joined them on the patio for dinner. All through dinner and afterwards when they smoked and talked, she hated Claudia's calm, a quietness that implied the very gratification that Annie desired.
Peter. And when Claudia went back up to the attic with him, Annie was fuming, tensed with envy and anger. Her brows were knit. Her mouth was tight.
"You know it's always like that with Peter," Stanley said to her, fully aware that she was interested in anything concerning Peter.
"What's always like what with Peter?" she asked.
"He always wants the girl that I want and he always gets her," Stanley explained.
"You don't have to explain why," Annie countered, sarcastically.
"You don't understand," Stanley continued. "It's a compulsion with him. By any normal standard, you're far more desirable than Claudia. You're younger and prettier. I tell you, if I weren't hung on Claudia, he wouldn't have looked at her twice. It's a psychological thing. He's got to do me in or else he just doesn't trust his own taste. It's probably a combination of the two."
He saw that he had Annie's attention fully now. "How did he know you dug Claudia?" Annie asked.
"It's obvious, isn't it," Stanley replied. "You know how well we've been hitting it off since you both came to stay with me. Besides, when I spoke to Peter about coming to the beach, all I could talk about was Claudia and how groovy I thought she was."
"That was pretty dumb," Annie told him.
He smiled sadly with his round freckled face. "You're so right."
"Listen...." Annie began and then stopped.
"Yes?"
"Oh nothing," said Annie.
Stanley waited. "I know what you're thinking," he challenged her. "What?"
"Well, you were thinking that if he thought I dug you, well, then both your problem and mine would be solved. Right?"
"Something like that," Annie admitted grudgingly. "Well?"
Annie was thoughtful. "I don't know if I could pretend there was something between us."
"Pretending won't work. Peter isn't stupid. He'll pick up the vibes and those have to be real."
"I don't want to make it with you," said Annie, sternly.
"Listen, I know I'm not the most physically appealing male...."
"You can say that again," Annie chuckled.
Stanley ignored her and went on. "But a guy like me who has any brains, well, he learns to compensate. I know a few things, a few ways ... You might not find it hard to take at all." i He stopped. Annie was looking away from him. "Did you hear what I said?" Stanley asked her.
"I'm listening," Annie turned back to him.
"Why not try then? It's too early to go to sleep and there's nothing else to do. If you don't dig it, then we'll just stop, whenever you want to stop."
"Stop what?" Annie wanted more details.
Stanley lit a joint. He puffed on it and then passed it to Annie. "Well, to begin with, think of me as your slave. I'm the slave. You're the queen. Got it?" She gave him back the burning joint. He smoked it and passed it to her again. "You see, I'm this special kind of slave," he went on. "I'm a sexual expert. I do all kinds of things that excite and gratify a woman. In fact, that's why you bought me. I even have special equipment...."
"You do?" Annie's eyes widened.
Stanley had to suppress a grin. "Let's try it, then you'll see," he said, seriously.
"I don't know," Annie was hesitant. She was holding the joint and not smoking it.
"Smoke it or pass it," said Stanley. She did both. Then she giggled softly. Stanley knew then that he had her. Of course he had her. He was promising her Peter
... and more. He smoked. "Want to try?" he asked.
Annie shrugged and giggled again. "You're crazy."
"Sure," Stanley was putting out the cigarette. She watched him extinguish the butt in an ashtray. "What do you say?" he asked again.
"Maybe if we were to smoke another joint, well, then maybe...."
Stanley rolled another joint. When they finished it, they went into the downstairs bedroom.
CHAPTER TEN
Stanley began by massaging her lightly-what the Franch call effulage. Annie lay prone on the bed, naked in candlelight, the long, curving surfaces of her body glowing softly. He feathered his fingers over the flesh of her arms and neck and shoulders, and down the elongated sinuous line of her back, following the rise of the firm, twin spheres of her ass, her thighs, her calves, and up again. Stanley went on, with inexhaustible patience, feeling her reluctance wane as she relaxed more and more under his gentle, pleasant ministrations.
After a while, Annie sighed and stretched her body. "Mmm," she hummed softly. "You do what you're doing real nicely, Stanley, I must say."
"Call me slave, remember?"
Annie giggled. "That's right. Don't stop, slave."
"I am at your command but...."He paused.
"But what?"
"I beg your majesty for a moment's respite only to get my equipment."
"Sure. I thought you were kidding about that."
"I wouldn't kid your majesty," said Stanley, grinning in the candlelit darkness. He left the bed and took a box out of a drawer which he sat on the bedside table. Opening it, he extracted a bottle and resumed his place, kneeling at the side of Annie's naked body.
"What's in the bottle, slave?"
"Scented oil, your majesty," Stanley explained. He dabbed some of it on her back and began to spread it and work it into her skin. "Oh, that feels good."
He spread still more oil on her and worked it into her flesh. His fingers and hands kneaded and squeezed their way over her body, muscle by muscle, nerve by nerve; all tension evaporated at his touch.
"I'm going to fall asleep," Annie mumbled into the pillow.
"Not a chance," Stanley was grinning. On he went, working her loose from her shoulders to the small of her back. She snuggled and wormed her way deeper into the bed. Stanley switched from the muscle massage to effluage again, this time confining his lightly moving fingertips to her ass and her inner thighs, running them gently over the rounded, fleshy globes and through the crack between them, tenderly tickling the warm, silky skin that -rimmed her cunt, stroking her pubic hair until Annie began to tense again, shifting on the bed and opening her thighs a little further to afford him easier and greater access.
When she did that, Stanley asked her to turn over. When she was on her back, he ran one finger softly along her labia and felt them damp and opening. "Are you still falling asleep, your majesty?" he asked, grinning.
Annie kept her eyes closed. "Continue, slave."
Stanley chuckled and poured some of the perfumed oil on her belly. Using both of his palms, he spread the oil gently over her torso from her cunt to the base of her big breasts. Then he poured more on his hands and started rubbing it lightly over the curving, satin surfaces of her tits. He put more on and rubbed it in more vigorously, kneading the soft warm flesh and rolling the nipples with his palms until they stood stiff and gleaming with the oil in the low, flickering candlelight.
Annie's breathing had noticeably increased. It quickened even more as Stanley's fingers danced over her belly again and down to her bush, weaving an oily path between her parted cunt lips. The sweet oil blending with her natural juices moistened her already damp cunt even more. She responded with increased secretions and the smell of her musk mingled with the smell of the oil. Annie sighed and breathed deeper and faster, her huge tits heaving up and down with her intake and outflow.
At this moment, Stanley inserted a testing finger into her pussy, Annie raised her ass off the bed and rolled her hips around it, as Stanley probed the hot, wet center of her cunt.
"Am I hurting you, your majesty?" Stanley asked. "No. Oh, no."
"Shall I go on?"
"Yes, slave."
Stanley popped his finger out and Annie fell back on the bed. He reached for the box on the bedside table and took from it a vibrator which he plugged into a wall socket. Carefully, he inserted about half of its seven inch length into Annie's now open and throbbing pussy. He flicked it on to low speed.
"Mmm," Annie murmured-softly and her thighs parted, quivering. Leaving the vibrator humming away, Stanley went back to the box and this time extracted a smaller and thinner vibrator which he plugged it and left on the bed in easy reach.
He turned the other one up to medium speed and shoved it in all the way. Annie gasped and twisted on the bed. Straddling her, a knee on either side of her twisting torso, Stanley poured more jasmine oil on her tits and then began to knead them strongly, squeezing them and pulling them, twisting and turning her rigid nipples in the hard vise of his thumbs and forefingers.
Annie wasn't breathing anymore, she was panting. Her hair was plastered over her face with the dampness of her sweat. The tendons of her neck stood out in tension and her whole body was hot and trembling.
Stanley slipped down between her legs and unscrewed the cap from a tube of cocoa butter. He bent and creamed the rim of her asshole with the butter and then, cautiously, worked some of it inside and up the passage, gently widening the way with his buttered finger. All the time he was doing this, the vibrator went on quivering at medium speed and Annie grew hotter and tense with expectation.
Finally, he drew out his finger, reached for the small vibrator and carefully worked it part way up her asshole. When he flicked the small vibrator on to low speed, he moved the larger one to high speed. Annie's hands were in her hair. She was sobbing and whimpering. Stanley held both vibrators in place while Annie involuntarily twitched and jerked and writhed on the bed beneath him. She was crying out now.
"Oh God, my God, oh, ahh, ehh, ah, God, oh...."
Stanley worked the rear vibrator in further. It was almost all the way in now. He turned it to medium speed. Annie screamed.
"Louder, your majesty," Stanley grinned. "We want them to hear you up in the attic, don't we?"
She screamed louder. Stanley had both vibrators quivering at high speed now. And both of them were all the way in her. Front and rear. Annie was out of it now. "I'm cuming," she cried out. "I'm cuming. Oh God ... Too much ... I can't ... Ohh ... Please Stanley...."
He was moving the vibrators around and in and out of her. It wasn't easy to keep them both in and both moving for Annie was bouncing and jerking all over the bed. Finally she gave out one long scream that died to a whimper and a soft cry. Her body fell back on the bed and she lay there breathing deeply, pulsing wildly, her flesh wet, warm and satisfied.
Stanley switched off the machines and replaced them, along with the oil and the butter, in the bedside box. Having put away his professional equipment, Stanley now turned to his personal gear. At the crux of his skinny thighs, an astonishingly large cock protruded, arching up and away from his body and bending from the burden of its own weight at the tip. Though in fact, it was huge, it appeared even larger in contrast with the slightness of the frame to which it was attached.
Standing at the side of the bed, Stanley began stroking his outsized member with a hand still moist and warm with cocoa butter and oil. He looked down at her, still lying quietly on the bed, while he slowly pistoned his sticky palm up and down the considerable length of his pulsing prick. He studied Annie's naked, luscious body, the long, lithe lines of her legs and her torso, the sweet voluptuous curvings of her hips and her breasts, her blond bush and hair, falling in a sensual weaving and webbing about her face.
"Is your majesty ready to go on?" Stanley asked, quietly.
There was one part of Annie's body that Stanley had hitherto scrupulously avoided. In his lovemaking, he had tended every curve, every surface, every wrinkle, cranny of Annie, with a single exception. Her clitoris. Now he zeroed in on it, kneeling on the bed between her open thighs, his big prick grazing the sheets, he dipped his head into the apex and, with the tip of his tongue, located her clit.
The exotic scents of jasmine and cocoa mingled with the bittersweet, sappy flavor of Annie's cunt. He was buried in musk and silky hair with the hot satin touch of thighs on his ears. Stanley was dizzy. It took every ounce of his will to maintain his incredible restraint just a bit longer, long enough to tongue her clit into a swollen, stiff, throbbing nub of sensation, from which hot impulses swirled and spiraled out through her entire body, renewing and intensifying her passion until she was once more straining for release. Her hot flesh began writhing on the bed. She cried out with desire.
Only then did Stanley allow his fantastic control to give way. Finally, after all the intrigue, all the mind games, all the physical and mental manipulation, Stanley had his prize, this blonde beauty from the plains. He reared up on his knees and loomed over her. She was looking up at him, her eyes widening at the contrast between his skinny body and his huge and ready cock.
His cock answered the question. He drove it into her drenched cunt, making her cry out with pleasure. He lunged widly in and out of her, filling her and reaming her.
He felt her folding her thighs and her arms around his humping body. He felt her hips, rolling and straining to meet and welcome his assault. He tasted the salt of her sweat and the sweetness of her lips and tongue. He heard her whimper, sob and scream, and go gasping and crying, into a convulsive orgasm.
As she came, her cunt spasmed around his pulsating, driving cock, squeezing it and sucking it. With a searing, burst of pleasure so intense it was almost pain, he shot and spurted his steaming cum into the seething depths of her cunt. His whole body was bathed by a tingling cascade of sensation. He twitched and jerked, wracked by convulsions, and then fell, moaning and panting, into the warm soft bed of her blond body.
He lay in her arms, quiet and content, thinking over the intricate lengths he had taken in order to be where he was. His head rested on her breasts. He kissed her nipples and nuzzled his nose into her warm flesh.
But Annie sighed and pushed him away. She made a clear distinction between what she considered lust and what she considered romance. Her mind had turned back to Peter. She turned her back to Stanley. They slept on opposite sides of the bed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
They went back to the city the following evening. The day was spent on the beach, but this time Peter didn't go off alone with Claudia. He had lost all interest in her. True to Stanley's prophecy, Peter's attention followed that of his friend. He had eyes only for Annie.
This was apparent at breakfast when Peter only half-listened to what Claudia was saying and kept stealing glances at Annie, especially whenever she was near Stanley or talking with him. On the beach it was the same. When Claudia went for a swim, no one accompanied her. When Annie went for a swim, both Peter and Stanley came along.
Later, Annie volunteered to fetch hot dogs and soda for everyone from a stand located down the beach. Peter was eager to help her. All the way there and back, he babbled continuously, trying to engage her in conversation. But Annie was letting him sweat. She hardly said a word to him.
When they got back, she allowed him to rub her back with sun lotion. He took a great deal of time to do this and while doing it, he whispered in her ear that he thought she had beautiful skin. Annie made no response. On the way back to the house, with Stanley and Claudia walking ahead, Peter tried to hold her hand. She pulled it away from him sharply.
"Don't grab me," she cautioned him. What fun she was having. Being a bitch was a jolly diversion. Now that he wanted her, she was paying him back for not wanting her a day earlier.
Feeling very much in control now, Annie arranged for Stanley to drive the bus back to the city and she sat up front with him. From there, she could safely flirt with Peter in full view of Claudia. She wanted both of them to suffer. More retribution for the day before.
If Annie had thought about it, she wouldn't have been sure if she wanted to fuck Peter more than she wanted Claudia to squirm. But she didn't think about it. She spent the trip talking and laughing with Peter over the barrier of the front seat. Claudia seemed unperturbed. She simply curled up on the bed and read a book. Annie couldn't tell if Claudia was faking or not and it bothered her.
When they got back to Stanley's apartment, Annie was planning to make it with Peter immediately. She had waited long enough.
But Annie was doomed to diasppointment. When Stanley pulled the bus to a stop in front of his apartment house, Peter got out, but only to get back in, taking Annie's seat. Annie and Claudia were left on the sidewalk in front of the building.
"Aren't you coming up?" Annie asked Peter.
"He has to catch a train," Stanley told her and started the motor.
"Where are you going?" Annie asked Peter.
"Pittsburgh. It's business. I'll be back in a couple of days," Peter replied.
"I can't wait," Annie spit sarcastically and went into the building with Claudia.
"Did you know Peter was going away for a few days?" she asked Claudia in the elevator.
"Yes, why?"
"Nothing."
In the apartment, Claudia started to move some of her things out of the bedroom.
"What are you doing?" Annie wanted to know.
"I'm going to sleep out here so you and Stanley can have the bedroom."
"Don't bother. The arrangements we had before we went to the beach will do fine," said Annie.
Claudia looked puzzled. "But...."
"But what?"
"Well, last night, we couldn't help hearing you," Claudia smiled. "I was so happy you and Stanley had finally hit it off."
"I'll bet you were."
Claudia opened her hands, a gesture of disbelief. "You sure you don't want me out of the bedroom?" Claudia asked.
"I'm sure."
Claudia shrugged and put the things she had moved back into place.
Stanley drove Peter back to his Chelsea apartment-not to Penn Station. He parked on the side street in front of Peter's brownstone.
"Maybe you'll run out to the beach tomorrow and empty the cameras," said Stanley.
"Sure," Peter replied. "I'll do that."
"Should be some good footage out there," Stanley grinned.
Peter sighed. "I don't know why you go to all the trouble you do. Why don't you just hire the chicks like you hire me. I know a couple of nice kids who would...."
"Forget it," Stanley stopped him. "That's the sure way to end up with old hat, hackneyed movies, the kind every other porno film maker can do. Listen, Spinner footage is something special. I get paid twice the going rate and even more sometimes. And it's because my stuff is real. That's the key to it."
"Sometimes, it's too real." Peter admitted. "Even embarrassing it's so real."
Stanley grinned. "That girl, Claudia, she get to you?" he asked.
"She's nice. She's so ... so full of love."
"Those are the best kind," Stanley chuckled and patted Peter on the shoulder. "Now the other one...."
"The blond? She's a bitch."
Stanley laughed. "Yes, she's a bitch, but you can't wait to get your hands on her anyway."
Peter smiled softly. "You're too much, Stanley." He opened the door of the bus and started to get out.
"Stay away tomorrow night," Stanley told him. "Come the next day."
"O. K." Peter agreed from the sidewalk. He closed the door of the bus. Stanley put it into gear.
"Pete, one important thing about Annie. She's never been ass fucked. I stretched her back there a bit with the vibrator, but I was too big to try to get in there. Eventually, I want to get a sequence with both of us doing her, front and rear, so whatever you can do to open her up back there...."
"I'll take care of it," said Peter, professionally.
"Good," Stanley grinned. "See you soon." He drove off.
The next day Stanley resumed showing the girls around the city. They ate brunch at a sidewalk cafe near Sheridan Square and then went uptown to a special showing at the Museum of Modern Art. After eating in a Pakistani restaurant at dinnertime, Stanley suggested a movie, but Claudia was tired and preferred to go back to the pad. Annie simply didn't care what they did. It all bored her.
At home, Claudia and Stanley got into a lengthy discussion on the Hindu view of love and sex. Annie grew more bored and became more and more restless. She smoked a joint and tried listening to music. Shesmoked another joint and tried to read. She smoked another joint and went into the bedroom to watch television.
She hated the thing that Claudia had with Stanley. She hated the thing that Claudia had with Peter. She hated the fact that Peter wasn't there. She hated Peter. She hated Claudia. She hated Stanley. She was about to burst with resentment, frustration and anger.
"I'm going out for a walk," she told them as she passed through the living room, on her way out. They barely acknowledged her. She took the elevator down, not to the street floor, but below it, to the basement where the underground garage was located. The bus, she knew, was parked there.
The keys were in it. She drove it out into the street and headed east. She had only a vague idea of where that coffee house was situated. Somewhere in the East Village. She couldn't even remember the name of that folk singer. His first name was Jed. That was all she knew. Jed, the folk singer. A coffee house somewhere in the East Village.
She cruised the streets slowly, trying to spot the place. It didn't take her long to find it. The East Village is not that big. There it was and outside of it was a large poster with his photograph on it. Jed Raymond. That was his name. She ducked into a parking place just around the corner from the coffee house. She locked the bus and walked back to the place.
He was playing and singing when she arrived. She moved through the tables up toward the stage and stood in a spot where he had to see her. It was difficult not to see her anyway, a tall, young blonde with a wicked body, dressed in the briefest of mini skirts, wearing a top made of light fabric that clung faithfully to her bobbing, unencumbered tits.
He was smiling at her. She smiled back. So far, so good, she thought and waited until he finished the song he was doing. Before he started the next one, Annie went back toward the exit to borrow a paper and pencil from the cashier. She wrote a note:
I am waiting for you in a Chevy van with a psychedelic paint job. It's parked just around the corner. Come. I have something to give you.
A nnie.
She weaved her way back through the tables and went right up to the stage where he was still playing and singing. She stuck the note in his shirt pocket, traded another set of smiles with him and then walked back. She stopped to thank the cashier for the pencil and paper and also to ask when Jed would take his next break. She was told that it would be within ten minutes.
Then she left the coffeehouse and went back to the bus. She pulled the curtains and lit a candle. She left the rear door on the curbside unlocked. Then she stripped off her clothes and sat in the center of the bed. Gently, she began to caress herself, running her fingers through her blonde pubic bush and along the insides of her upper thighs. Tenderly, she stroked her labia and tweaked her clit and felt it harden. She had forgotten all about Claudia, Stanley and Peter. She was happily caught up in the anticipation of Jed's arrival. It made her chuckle softly to think about it.
She was sitting there, naked, in the center of the bed, with the soft light of a single candle on her, when she heard him at the front door. She called out the open, but curtained window, and asked him to try the, rear door. He opened it and peered inside. Annie stretched her arms languidly above her head, pulling her tits up and out, nipples pink and gleaming in the gentle, flickering light.
"Come in and lock the door," she said softly.
Jed did what he was told.
"Now come and sit here with me."
He did what he was told again-.
"Sit closer, yes, that's good, there," Annie giggled softly. "You're so shy. I didn't think performers could be so shy."
"Look, maybe we could meet later," Jed suggested. "You see, I only have a half-hour break. Probably only twenty minutes left."
Annie ran her fingers through his long hair. "That's time enough," she cooed in her ear, one large naked breast pressed against his square shoulder.
"I wouldn't want to ruin it by rushing it, you understand," said Jed.
"Your hair is almost as long as mine," Annie laughed lightly. "And don't worry about rushing it. I'm all ready. See!" She grabbed his hand and shoved it down between her legs and into the hot dampness her fingers had already inspired. "You are, too," she surmised, laying her other hand on his lap and pressing lightly on the cock under the cotton of his pants.
He was kissing her. She opened her mouth to his probing tongue and touched it with her own. His hands were moving over her tits, stroking and kneading, his fingers pulling at her rigid nipples. She blew in his ears and pulled his shirt free from the waist of his pants. Then she broke contact. "Take off your clothes," she commanded as she lay back on the bed, spreading her thighs to welcome him.
She watched him doff his clothes, and smiled approval at his long, lanky frame, the wide shoulders and the narrow waist. He kneeled, now naked, between her legs and began massaging her breasts with his large hands.
"Come on," Annie bounced her ass off the bed, tapping his cock with her pelvis. "Come on." With her hips high and her thighs wide, she presented a certain target. She felt his prick slide through her labia and into her wet and open cunt.
She wrapped her thighs around his flanks and her arms about his neck and held on. She had done everything up to now. Now it was his turn. She became a passive envelope of warm flesh around him, quiet, receiving, while he lunged in and out of her, deep and strong, his pace steadily increasing. His hands cupped the cheeks of her ass and lifted her off the bed. She held on tighter with her legs and arms.
She came once before he hit his stride. It was a soft, spasming kind of orgasm. She heard him sigh appreciatively as he felt the warmth and the wetness, the flow of her sweet secretions. He was sweating and driving hard now, his cock reaming out her cunt.
She tightened her hot, fleshy hold on him. Her whole body was tensing. Oh, the feel of his hands cupping and squeezing her ass. Her loins, her belly, her breasts were all flooded by waves of tingling. He, too, was like a steel spring in the socket of her thighs. He strained and drove. She tensed and shuddered. In and out. His cock was relentless. She trembled into hot butter and quaked into a body wracking, jerking, flooding release.
She cried out. He roared and she felt his prick bumping and twitching insider her cunt and was hit by another series of spasms. Then she was quiet while he spurted and finally dribbled his seed into her.
She loosened her grip on him and lay outstretched under his hard, long body, breathing heavily. His head found the cushion of her breasts. She stroked his hair. "You're good," she told him softly.
"You're beautiful," he murmured into her warm flesh.
A few minutes-later, he was pulling his clothes on again. She sat naked on the bed watching him. When he was ready to go back to the coffee house, he asked her to come with him. Annie smiled and shook her head.
"Then meet later. It's about midnight now. I'll be free at two," said Jed.
"Nope," Annie giggled. She loved to be a mystery woman.
"Look, I must see you again," he took her hand. "You will. I'll come by."
"I'm only going to be here two more nights. The gig is over then. I'll be splitting town."
"Where are you going?" Annie asked.
"West Coast. With my buddy, Sam." Jed explained.
"Oh, are you driving?"
Jed laughed. He held up his thumb in a hitchhiking gesture. "Will you come by tomorrow night?" Annie said she would. "Promise?"
"I promise." They kissed. He was gone. Annie got into her clothes and drove back to the apartment. She parked the car in the underground garage and went up in the elevator. The front door was unlocked. She went inside. The living room was empty. She could hear Claudia and Stanley thrashing about in the bed in the other room. She shrugged and curled up in the playpen for the night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Claudia and Stanley were going uptown to a gallery to see some Tibetan mandalas. Whatever they were-Annie wasn't interested in them. According to Stanley, Peter was due back and might turn up during the day. She was more interested in that. She stayed behind in the apartment.
All morning long, Annie toyed with the idea of teasing Peter and not giving him any. But in the afternoon, when the doorbell rang, and she was confronted by his dark, brooding sexuality, she didn't even remember that she had considered not making it with him. Not ten minutes after his arrival, they were in bed together, under the watchful eye of the Buddha.
Peter had to flick the camera switches in the living room closet. He finally managed to do this when Annie went to the bathroom. With the cameras rolling, Peter became a skillful professional, teasing Annie's voluptuous blonde body with his knowing hands. Sometimes rough, sometimes tender, always imaginative, he touched her in all ways and all places, working her like clay into a fever of delight, making her twist and writhe and cry out with want of him.
She snaked her thighs around him, trying to capture his cock, but he wouldn't give it to her. Not yet. She squirmed to her knees and attempted to mouth his prick, seeking the initiative. But Peter simply threw her on her back, angled her properly for the camera, and slipped his head between her shivering, hot thighs. Annie shuddered as his tongue flicked her clitoris. She squirmed, sobbed and gasped and finally exploded, convulsing savagely and then melting tensionless into the bed.
Peter began again, with his hands and his lips and his tongue, squeezing and kissing and licking her to the edge of ecstasy. This time, when her cries and her writhings indicated her renewed readiness, Peter flipped her over, positioned her rump, and with his fingers stroking her clit from behind, he pushed his cock gently, but firmly, past the pinkish hole that guarded her ass.
Annie, caught in a whirlpool of pleasure mixed with pain, screamed. She tried to pull away, but Peter held her fast around the waist. She didn't try too hard-to pull away from his cock also meant breaking contact with his fingers which were still diddling her clit deliciously.
Carefully, gradually, he slipped his cock into her until it was totally swallowed, until she was completely filled. Then, reaching from behind with both hands, he grabbed her tits and kneaded them strongly while he moved his cock up and down her tight asshole.
Annie screamed. "You're hurting me." But Peter paid her no heed. He went on lunging and squeezing. "Oh God, it hurts," she sobbed, but her tone belied the pleasure that mingled with the pain. She cried out one last time and then shuddered and quaked as he drove her over the brink, through a trembling release.
She fell whimpering softly to the bed as Peter pulled out of her. He turned her over. She moved docilely under the direction of his hands. Her mouth was slack and there were tears on her cheeks. He spread her thighs and rammed his cock into her open, sodden cunt. She moaned softly as he took his pleasure.
When he came, shooting his hot cum into her, she embraced him with her thighs and managed to match his savage explosion with a meek, hot, but delicious cum of her own. He left her exhausted. Her ass was sore. There was a little blood on the sheet. She couldn't move. She fell into a light sleep.
When she awoke, the shower was running in the bathroom. She saw Claudia's clothes, the ones she had worn that morning, draped over a chair and she heard the voices of Peter and Stanley talking in the living room. She got off the bed and walked to the bedroom door. From there, she could hear every word they were saying.
"Fine, fine," Stanley was speaking. "I can hardly wait to see the footage."
"You'd better do something about that camera inside the Buddha." It was Peter talking now. "It needs oiling or something. I could hear it whirring and if I could hear it, then...."
"I'll take care of it," Stanley said. "What I want to talk about is what we do next. You know, I want to do a scene with both of us making it with Annie at the same time." He stopped. "Did you...."
"Yes."
"How did that go?" asked Stanley.
"It was a bit rough," Peter reported. "But next time it'll be a lot easier. I think she's stretched now."
"Good. That will make a fine scene. And then, I'd like to get another scene with just the two of them making it with one another. That's going to be difficult to arrange, but I think it's possible. I was talking around the idea with Claudia this morning. Nothing specific, you understand, but just how she feels in general about lesbianism and I got the distinct impression that...."
Annie turned away from the door. Claudia had come out of the bathroom. She picked up a brush and began running it through her long, dark hair. Annie stood, watching her, wanting to speak to her, but unable to. She was literally paralyzed with disbelief.
The conversation she had just heard could not be denied. Even if it could be, there was no chance to dispute the soreness of her ass. For a long moment, she stood there, still by her astonishment. Then she stepped over to Claudia and began to babble, rapidly and incoherently, about cameras and lesbanianism and buggery.
Claudia stopped brushing her hair and looked at her as if she was crazy. So Annie went to the Buddha statue and started feeling around it and, sure enough, the top of the head screwed off. She twisted it loose and pulled it free. There, inside the hollow head, was the camera, its lens peering through the god's left eye.
Claudia and Annie were waiting in the bus. It was parked just down the street from the coffee house. Sam, Jed Raymond's buddy, had already stowed his gear in the back of the van. He had gone with Jed to get his guitar and his clothes. As soon as they got back, all four of them would be taking off for California.
"I don't understand you," Annie said to Claudia.
"What do you mean?"
"Going back there this morning to say good-bye to Stanley," Annie explained. "I can't understand that after what he did...." Annie shook her head. "I just can't understand you."
Claudia smiled gently, but her face was serious. "No one is perfect, Annie. The bad is mixed with the good. I learned a lot of good things from Stanley."
"Aren't you angry about the way he used us?" Annie demanded.
"Sure, but...."
"No. I don't think you are. My God, Claudia, he planned to get us into making it together. Doesn't that just blow your mind?"
Claudia was thoughtful. "It's interesting," she spoke slowly, "that you picked out that particular thing and not the buggery, or the plan they had for both of them to make it with you, or any of the films they actually shot, and all the manipulation...."
"Claudia, I don't know what you're thinking, but I think that all this has been a bit much for you and...." Annie stopped.
"Well?"
"I think your head isn't quite together. The way you've been acting. I'm worried about you."
"What exactly worried you?" Claudia asked.
"Well, for example, the way you made it with Stanley, right after what went down between you and Peter. I don't understand that. It's not like you."
Claudia smiled again. "I don't understand you, either," she said to Annie.
"What do you mean by that?" Annie wanted to know.
"Oh, the way you made it with Peter, right after making it with Stanley." Claudia started laughing.
Annie frowned at first, but then she began laughing along with her. "You left out Jed. That was in between Stanley and Peter." For the moment, their differences were submerged in mirth. When it subsided, Claudia made a suggestion.
"It might be a good idea if each one of us picked one of these guys for the trip and stayed with him. That would certainly keep things simple."
Annie smiled. "You want to divide them up before we start."
"You choose whichever one you want," Claudia offered.
"Well, I've already been with Jed, but...."
"But what?"
"It doesn't seem right. Sam and you."
"Why not?"
"He's younger than me, Claudia."
"I thought he was nineteen."
"Yeah, but he's a Gemini. I'm a couple months older. Jed's twenty-eight...."
"Pick the one you want," Claudia insisted.
"I know it's not right, you and Sam, but...."
"If you want Jed, then he's yours," Claudia smiled.
"It's not just the age. Sam just doesn't turn me on. He's too skinny, I guess, or something. Do you mind, Claudia?"
"Not a bit," Claudia assured her. There was no way she could explain it to Annie, or to anyone. This new feeling she had. Love. Big love. Nor could she tell her friend how it had been dormant until Stanley, with his books, his art and his music, had turned her on to it, liberated it from some mysterious corner of her self. Nor could she explain that it no longer mattered whether it was Jed or Sam, or Peter or Stanley. This love in her made no distinctions, not age, not beauty, not brains, not talent, not goodness, not even evil.
Not even sex.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
West. West through the Holland Tunnel and across the hideous Jersey flatlands, through its intolerable chemical stench. And West. Over the Pulaski Skyway, across New Jersey and into the rolling, soft hills of Eastern Pennsylvania. The land was dressed up in autumn reds and golds to receive them. The air was clear and crisp and mild. West.
Claudia was driving. The other three were in back. Jed was playing and singing. Sam wailed on his harmonica. His true instrument was the piano, but there was no way he could carry that along. Annie was rolling joints. West.
Sam drove. Claudia sat next to him. Annie and Jed were in back, their naked bodies together on the bed. Soft sounds. Flesh and flesh. The creak of the plywood bed platform under their shifting weight. The slide of mattress on wood. The sigh, the gasp, the murmur and the moan.
Claudia felt their heat. She could smell the pungency of sweat and the sweet muskiness of secretions. She sat with her back to the door, her arm resting along the top of the seat. In the dim interior light of the speeding van, she studied them. The motion of their undulating forms, the twining of limbs, the molding of curve to curve, line to line, one into one.
"Does it excite you to watch them?" Sam asked. Claudia smiled. "In a way, yes. But not in the way you think."
"How then?"
"Well, I guess the best way I can say it, is that I feel awed. Watching them takes my breath away. There's something divine about lovers. In love, whether physical or any other kind, humans become angels. It's so beautiful. They're so beautiful." '
"Annie sure is beautiful," Sam agreed with part of what she'd said. There was sadness in his statement.
"So is Jed. So are you," Claudia told him.
"And you, too," Sam added.
"But not as beautiful as Annie," Claudia chuckled softly.
"I didn't mean that. I didn't even say...."
Claudia stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I understand," she assured him, moving her hand now through his long, black hair to caress the back of his neck. He murmured appreciatively, but the sound was lost as Annie reached a shuddering peak and cried out, her cry mingling with Jed's roar of release.
"It wouldn't matter anyway," said Sam, his face forlorn, a flat tone of defeat in his voice.
"What wouldn't matter?" asked Claudia, still tenderly rubbing his neck as he drove.
"Even if, by some miracle, she chose me instead of Jed, I wouldn't know what to do about it," Sam explained. "I couldn't make her cry out like she just did," he admitted.
"You're nineteen, aren't you?" asked Claudia. He nodded that he was. "Are you a virgin?" she asked.
"No, but I might as well be. I've never really had ... an old lady. I've made it here and there with the kind of chicks who don't really see the guy, but only see that he's a musician and that turns them on, I guess. And then, it's only been once or twice with each one of them. I guess I'm not enough of-a lover to keep .them coming back."
Claudia's heart went out to him. She felt his wish to be with Annie. She suffered his pangs of jealousy and frustration. The pain of his self-deprecation. She continued to rub his neck and put her other hand on his upper arm. "You're probably a far better lover than you think you are," she said to him.
"Oh, I don't blame her for picking Jed. I mean, he's everything I'm not. He's older and experienced while I'm younger than she is and know a lot less. He's big and handsome, and I'm small and, well, ordinary."
"Good things come in small packages," Annie smiled. "And I don't think Jed is any better looking than you are."
"You're nice," Sam smiled and, for a moment, took one hand away from the wheel to squeeze Claudia's hand, still resting against his arm.
"I didn't say that to be nice. I really meant it," Claudia tried again to assure him. But she had little effect for, at that moment, Annie and Jed started giggling, and Sam winced at the sound. Claudia felt him go tense. She slid as close to him as she could and warmed him with the promise of her body.
The morning star twinkled. The road twisted through mountains, gray Appalachian peaks rising against the dawn sky. Muddy coffee at a diner in a dingy coal mine town. Then West. West over the border and into Ohio. Jed was driving. Annie was next to him. Sam and Claudia were in back, sleeping in one another's arms, but with their clothes on. Autumn woods and sluggish streams. Meadows and farm houses. Cows and barns. And busy towns, too. Bridges and factories. Esso and Dairy Queen. Then fields again and the sun, high in the sky.
They stopped to roast hot dogs, in a meadow near a stream. Jed did the cooking. Claudia and Sam went wading in the stream. Annie sat on a rock near Jed's fire and watched them frolicking in the water and on the bank, both of them dark, slender and agile silhouettes against the glittering surface of the water. She felt left out.
A warm hand moved on her bare leg just above the knee. She turned to Jed who was close and smiling at her. His hand roamed over the flesh of her thigh up to the hem of her short skirt. She stopped it there, closing her own hand around his.
"You're so beautiful it's impossible," he grinned and moved his mouth towards hers. She gave him a light peck, her lips on his, and then turned away from him. Holding his hand still on her leg, she looked down toward the stream again and saw the two slender silhouettes come together, enveloping one another with their arms, heads blending as they kissed.
Suddenly, she realized that Jed seemed gross, awkward and unattractive to her. He was always lurking around her, behind her, or at her side, or coming on in front, always coming on. When he wasn't coming on, then he was singing and playing. She was bored with that, too. She was bored with him.
With him, she didn't feel like a slender silhouette against a glittering stream in an afternoon sun. In the coffee house, she had seen him as desirable. But now, he had lost the aura of the unattainable. Now he was always there, forever trying to touch her, kiss her, fuck her. He was nothing to win anymore. He offered no excitement.
She stood up, sliding his hand off her thigh. "Think I'll go for a walk," she said. He grabbed her wrist with his hand.
"I'll go with you."
"Silly, you have to watch the hot dogs." Gently, she disengaged herself from his grasp. And went walking out into the meadow, away from the stream.
"A kiss before you go," Jed pleaded.
She blew it to him over her shoulder as she went. She wandered through the meadow and didn't return until the hot dogs were ready and Claudia and Sam were back from the stream. During lunch, she contrived to sit between Sam and Claudia, cutting them off from one another and herself from Jed. And when they finished eating, she took the wheel and asked Claudia to sit in front with her, so Jed and Sam could play for them in back. She didn't want him playing with her leg while she was driving. In fact, she didn't want him playing with her leg at all.
West again. Through Ohio. And once more, beyond Ohio. Indiana. Twilight into darkness. A stop for gas and sandwiches and on into the night. West. Jed was driving. Annie next to him. In back, Claudia and Sam on the bed, but this time not sleeping, this time without clothes.
And this time, in the dim interior light of the speeding van, it was Annie who watched the writhing blend of flesh. They were both so lean, their delicate limbs dancing around one another, winding, enveloping, stroking. Claudia, on her back, spreading her tender thighs, pinioned as Sam drove into her, his compact, boyish ass pounding up and down.
Annie's breathing was fast and the air was trapped high in her chest, just below her collar bone. Her tits grew warm and prickly; her nipples went rigid and pressed against the light wool of her sweater. She pressed the soft flesh of her inner thighs together and felt them dampen as droplets of cunt juice trickled past the open petals of her labia.
She heard the sounds of Claudia and Sam, whimpers, words and little cries of pleasure. Her clit felt hard as stone, expanded to the point of bursting, throbbing strongly, demanding ... She squirmed on the seat.
Jed chuckled and adjusted the rear view mirror to improve his view. "Sure gets you hot," he laughed lightly. He dropped a hand from the steering wheel and reached for Annie's leg. But she parried him off and slid to the far side of the seat. "Both hands on the wheel," she told him. "And keep your eyes on the road!" She turned away from him and stared out the side window into the passing night.
"We could stop," Jed suggested. Annie didn't answer him. "Annie, let's talk. What's happening? Do I have leprosy or what?"
"I don't want to talk about it," she told him and kept her eyes riveted to the window.
"I love you," said Jed.
"Oh, shut up." She could still hear Claudia and Sam in the back of the bus, soft sighs and low, rippling laughter. Her mind held an image of them fucking, their bodies squirming sweetly in the darkness. She pressed her thighs together and tried to imagine Sam, slim and young, his ass bobbing up and down, but the image of Sam kept turning into Claudia.
After Sam and Claudia fell asleep, Annie dozed off, curled up on the front seat. Jed drove on through the night. West. Into Illinois. West.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Shortly after dawn, they reached the Mississippi. Jed woke them all up. It was drizzling. They peered through windows at the wide, flowing river in the gray morning light. Old Man River.
They stopped for breakfast on the other side, in Missouri. Jed was talking about a college town, two hundred miles to the West, right on their way.
"...Columbia, Missouri. The State University is there and several other schools. There's a place called The Show Me Cafe and it's always good for a gig. I've played there every time I crossed the country. Good bread. They let you pass the hat and pay you a little as well. It'd be a good place to stop and take a break."
There was no disagreement. When they finished eating, Jed got in back of the bus to sleep. Sam took the wheel. Annie slid in beside him and took the center of the front seat with Claudia at her side.
"Don't you want to sleep, Annie?" Jed asked.
"I'm not tired." She turned to Claudia. "You don't mind if I sit up here with you, do you?"
Claudia smiled softly. "Sit wherever you like."
Sam slid the van into gear and they were on the road again. They drove out of the drizzle, but the grayness persisted until about noon. Then the sun broke through. The rolling farmland through which they were passing took on more color as the light changed. They were only a few miles from Columbia so they called Jed awake to direct them.
The Show Me Cafe was right on the edge of the main campus of the State University. The girls and Sam waited in the bus while Jed went in to speak to the owner. He came out some time later and told them that the owner remembered him and he had a gig that night. The owner wanted to hear Sam play piano and, if he liked it, then Sam would have a gig, too. Sam went into the cafe with Jed.
Perhaps twenty minutes later, they both emerged grinning. They had a double gig. Fifteen bucks for Jed and ten for Sam, plus whatever they could garner from passing the hat. Sam suggested that they split whatever came into the hat in the same proportion they were being paid, that is, sixty for Jed, forty for Sam.
But Jed was magnanimous. "As far as I'm concerned, it's all our bread, not mine or yours. We're getting twenty-five for pay, not fifteen and ten. Whatever the hat brings in we put to the twenty-five and it's all ours. If you want to split it, then we split it fifty-fifty. That's the only way."
Sam was beaming. "Fine with me, Jed."
"Now let's get this bus under a tree somewhere away from all this traffic so we can smoke a joint in peace." Annie was behind the wheel. Sam had gotten in the back with Jed. She swung the bus out the busy campus area and, following Jed's directions, drove north where a large wooded preserve was maintained by the University for recreation.
It was a lovely place. Parked under a huge old oak, looking out over a large clear pond, they passed around a couple of joints. Jed stretched out on the bed. "I need to get more sleep before tonight," he yawned pleasantly. "Sam, if you and Claudia want to wander about, you can pick up a path on the other side of the pond that will take you to a beautiful waterfall."
Sam looked at Claudia and she nodded and smiled. "Great," said Sam.
"You'd better get some sleep, too," Jed said to Annie, and he moved to one side of the bed in a gesture of invitation. Sam and Claudia were already out of the bus. Annie opened the driver's door and slid out. "I'm not the least bit tired," she told Jed whose face belied his disappointment. "And I want to see the waterfall, too." She slammed the door shut. "Sweet dreams," she called to Jed, a giggle in her voice as she strode off, hurrying to catch up with the others.
They followed the curving shore of the pond and, on the far side, they found the path. It trailed through a dense forest that blotted out most of the afternoon sunlight. They walked over crackling, dry leaves. Moss and mushrooms were everywhere. Birds twittered in the tree-tops and some of them went winging and swooping through the trees, seemingly in greeting, or at least, to get a closer look at them. An owl was hooting, perhaps confused about the time of day.
They followed the trail for a few minutes before the forest opened. In the clearing was a stream.
Water, they found the waterfall. It wasn't Niagara, but it was just fine. It dropped twenty feet into an oval pool, shallow and frothing with freshness. The cascade was rather light. The pressure wasn't much greater than a bathroom shower. Annie wanted to get under it.
"Too cold," Claudia shivered at the idea and wrapped her arms around herself.
"Chicken," Annie laughed and unzipped the boots she was wearing. "How about you, Sam?"
He smiled and shrugged. "I wouldn't mind going under it, but we don't have a towel. We'll be wet and cold when we come out and we won't be able to put our clothes on until we dry."
"You're just a sissy," Annie laughed and pulled off her boots. Her feet were bare. Her hands went to her hips and she took hold of her sweater, ready to pull it over her head. She paused and looked at Sam; on her face was a smirk, a challenge.
"I'm not a sissy," Sam protested. "I'm just thinking ahead."
"That's just a copout," Annie responded. "You cross bridges when you come to them. If you keep thinking ahead, you never do anything." She pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it on the ground next to her boots. Her big, firm breasts sprang tauntingly into view. Sam's jaw dropped. He turned to Claudia who was calmly sitting on a rock, chewing on a piece of grass.
"You don't mind if Sam and I do the waterfall, do you?" Annie asked Claudia. Claudia smiled and nodded her head from side to side. "Whatever you both want to do is fine with me," she told them. Annie unbuckled a thick leather belt she was wearing around the waist of her mini skirt. She tossed that on the growing pile of clothing.
"Are you coming or not?" She challenged Sam again with her half-naked body.
Sam looked once more at Claudia and then smiled. "I'm coming," he said to Annie.
"Then don't be a slowpoke," Annie commanded, sliding her skirt and underpants down her long legs at the same time.
She went wading in the sunlight, across the shallow pool, toward the waterfall. Sam stripped off his leather jacket, but was still fumbling with shirt buttons when Annie was already under the silvery water, dancing and squealing with cold and joy.
Sam got his clothes off and went running and splashing through the pool to join her. Claudia watched him go, his boyish body leaping gracefully through the water and into the cascade where Annie awaited him. Claudia could see that after only a few minutes under the icy water, Sam wanted out. But Annie cajoled him into staying there, holding his arm with both of her hands when he started to escape, and then wrapping both her arms around his waist, pressing her body against him, her tits to his chest, her belly to his belly, her pelvis to his groin, subjecting young Sam to pleasure in the midst of the freezing discomfort of the waterfall.
Claudia was not upset. She had a pretty fair idea of what was happening, knowing Annie as she did. She was, in fact, happy for Sam. She was somewhat perturbed because Annie was not keeping the deal they had made when each selected one of the men back in New York. What was bothering Claudia most was Jed. He was so obviously crazy about Annie. Claudia was certain that he would be badly hurt. She wondered how he would take it. What it would mean to his friendship with Sam?
They were coming back now, their wet bodies gleaming in sunlight. On closer view, their flesh was covered with chilly bumps. Both of them were shivering and their teeth were chattering. But Sam was in worse shape than Annie. His lips were blue. Hers were as rosy as her nipples. When they reached shore, Sam was quivering so violently that it seemed he might go into shock.
Annie seized his shirt and began drying him off with it. Claudia was wearing a blouse under her sweater, so she pulled off the sweater and gave it to Sam. Both she and Annie helped him into it. He managed to get into the rest of his clothes by himself. Dressed, he was still trembling.
Annie, meanwhile, dried herself as best she could with Sam's damp shirt, supplemented by her panties. She was still somewhat damp when she got into her clothes, but she knew enough to keep moving and it was clear that she would survive beautifully. She stuck her wet panties into her boot top and then went over to Sam and engaged the top button of his leather jacket, drawing the collar tight about his neck.
She looked at him, all wrapped up and still shivering, and she shook her head. "I don't know why you turn me on," she said to him.
"I-I-I t-t-turn y-y-you o-o-on?"
Annie laughed and kissed him quickly, but firmly on the lips, raising his body temperature at least one degree. They went back through the woods to the bus. Sometime before they got there, Annie quietly told Claudia that she was sorry she was breaking the deal.
"Women have the right to change their minds. Isn't that what they say?" Claudia responded warmly.
"Jed will be better for you," Annie predicted. "Sam is just too young for you."
"We'll see," said Claudia, hoping it would be that easy, but not at all convinced that it would be.
By the time they arrived back at the bus, Sam was feeling himself again. Since twilight was coming on fast, and they had to eat dinner and be at the cafe by seven o'clock, they woke Jed. Sam and Annie gave him an account of their adventure. As Jed listened to them, his face took on a puzzled cast. He looked at Claudia.
"You didn't go with them under the waterfall?" he asked her.
"No, I was too chicken," Claudia laughed lightly. It was forced.
"Just them," said Jed, quietly.
No one answered. It was an awkward moment. He looked from one of them to another. His face showed he was trying to deal with his suspicion that Annie was into something with Sam. Then his face changed. He seemed to have dropped that idea as absurd. He broke into a smile. "I'm as hungry as a horse and I know where we can eat cheap and good." The tension broke.
But at dinner, which they ate in a University cafeteria, it became increasingly apparent that the suspicion he had dismissed as ridiculous, was real. Annie contrived to sit next to Sam in a booth for four. Several times, while they were eating, Annie interrupted conversation that had nothing to do with the waterfall incident, to remark on Sam's bravery.
"For me, it wasn't anything special because I'm warm-blooded and a country girl," Annie explained. "But Sam is a city boy and he's not used to things like that. It took a lot of guts for him to get under that water. Why, he was so cold, you wouldn't believe it." She said this last bit directly to Jed, then she turned to Sam and began Fingering his lips lightly.
"Poor baby, your lips were blue, but really blue, and you were just trembling all over." Her hand moved from his mouth to his neck and then into his hair. "I thought you might die," Annie sighed, mussing Sam's hair tenderly.
Jed was silently fuming and Sam, like everyone else at the table, couldn't help picking up on Jed's vibrations. He moved away from Annie, sliding further into the booth until he was against the wall. But Annie just followed him along the plastic leather seat, and crowded him into the corner. She kept him there all through desert and coffee, sitting so close to him that eighty per cent of the seat was empty. Jed and Claudia sat well apart on their side of the booth-he looked morose, and she, worried.
Everyone, except Annie, was relieved when the time came to head for the cafe. Annie wasn't relieved because she had never been uptight. She had been smiling and digging the whole scene from start to finish.
Jed had arranged to play three sets, thirty to forty minutes each, starting at seven-thirty, nine-thirty, and eleven-thirty. It was just after seven when they arrived and the girls took a front table while Jed and Sam arranged the stage. Sam wanted the piano angled so he could see Jed better and Jed wanted the chair he was using placed so close to the front of the platform as possible.
After the furniture moving, Jed tuned his guitar to harmony with the piano. This done, they sat down with the girls, smoked a cigarette, and soon it was time to perform. They had a good crowd, considering it was the early show on a Thursday evening. In a college town, information disseminates rapidly through word-of-mouth, especially when the date concerns live entertainment by an itinerant folk singer.
Jed was way off right from the start. Nervous and uptight over Annie, angry at Sam, his playing and singing were well below his usual standard. His fingers slipped on the strings. He struck unintentional dischords. He forgot lyrics. His voice went flat a few times. On one song, he got completely mixed up on the sequence of a chord progression. Sam tried to smooth the situation by playing an outrageously powerful piano and managed, by doing so, to mask most of Jed's goofs. But Jed was anything but grateful.
They got through the set and were sitting with the girls again. "What the hell you trying to do?" Jed demanded of Sam. Sam could only shrug. He couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't upset Jed even more. But the shrug infuriated Jed anyway. He leaned across the table, putting his face within spitting range of Sam. The tendons of his neck stood out shaiply and his face was flushed red with emotion.
"You were banging on that piano like it was a bass drum," Jed accused. "And all those runs and riffs you were into ... You're not doing a solo, you know. You're backing me. You're the accompaniment. Don't forget it."
"I was only trying to help," Sam said, weakly. "I saw you were having trouble and I...."
"Listen kid, I was performing before you could tie your shoelaces, and I know when someone is trying to grab a piece that doesn't belong to him. So just cool it. This is my gig and I'm taking you along. I can leave you behind just as easy. Remember that."
"Jed, please, everyone is off now and then. You needed some cover so I just...."
Jed grew redder. "Baby, you want to solo, then take the next set by yourself, and I'll take the last." This idea seemed to take an edge off his tension. He sat back in his chair and grinned tightly. "Yeah, let's see how you can handle an audience up there by yourself. It'd be a good lesson for you."
"That's silly, Jed," Sam countered. "The people want to hear you sing."
"They'll hear me do the last set. They can't hear me over that brass band piano of yours anyway."
"But what about the owner?" Sam asked.
Jed didn't answer him. He stood up. "I'm going out to do a joint. Anybody coming with me?" He was looking at Annie. She smiled at him.
"Not me. I'm already turned on, thank you." She touched Sam's arm with her hand to make her meaning clear. Since Annie declined the invitation, and Sam was clearly not wanted, Claudia felt that it was up to her.
"I wouldn't mind going," she said, softly. But Jed didn't even hear her. After Annie's refusal, he'd turned away from the table and walked out the front door. A few students tried to talk to him as he went, but he sloughed them off and went out alone.
It was eight-thirty when Jed left. At nine-twenty-five, he wasn't back.
"Do you think he'll come?" Sam wondered.
"No," Annie smiled. She was digging the conflict, the tension, the black energy of contending emotions, and her pivotal role in the drama. "He's teaching you a lesson," she told Sam.
"What should I do?" he asked.
"Only one thing you can do," Annie replied.
He looked at Claudia. She nodded. There was only one thing he could do. So at nine-thirty, with Jed still absent, he went onstage and sat down at the piano. Before he left the table, Annie told him to play for her and forget all the rest.
Although it was quite true that Jed had been performing before Sam was able to tie his own shoelaces, Sam had been into music as long, if not longer than Jed. He came from a musical family. He was not a performer; he was a highly skilled musician with the talent and knowledge to improvise. Improvization was something he was already doing. It was his strength and he wisely chose to use it.
There was a lot of chattering and a general noisy hum throughout the cafe when he started to play. For a while it continued as he started a theme from a Mozart Quartet. He did it very simply, without any elaboration or extra decoration. Very clean. Then he switched, without jarring, into a country and western riff.
The chattering and the general noise began to subside as the attention of the audience was drawn to the stage. He switched from the country riff to a blues progression, playing it with a funky feeling. Then, incredibly, he began to weave the country theme into the blues. It worked and Sam had his audience by the balls.
Bt this time, the chattering had stopped completely. All eyes and ears focused on the stage. Now that the country and blues themes were perfectly integrated, Sam picked up his original statement, the Mozart melody. With great care and studied intricacy, he gradually and beautifully inserted the Mozart theme into the blend of country and blues until he was weaving all three together in a complex web of sound.
Sam went flying. He felt the rapt attention the audience was giving him. From them, he took the confidence and the inspiration that was lacking when he first began. He played the three themes joyously; he played them with excitement. He played them sadly and he played them well. He slipped into whimsy and then out into seriousness. He played sexually; he played religious-
When he finished, the applause was deafening. The hat, which had made the rounds after the first set, collecting seven dollars and twenty cents, went around this time to the tune of twenty-eight dollars and forty cents.
But Sam wasn't there to count it. He was outside in the chill fall air with Annie who had literally dragged him out of the place. As they went out the door, both of them spotted Jed, leaning against a back wall. It was obvious that he had caught at least the last part of Sam's solo performance.
Once outside the cafe, Sam asked Annie where she was going.
"To the bus," she replied.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sam felt Annie cum and heard her wanton cries. He winced as she bit his neck, but he went right on thrusting into her, discovering a new flow of fresh hot juice in her seething, quaking cunt. A moment later, the knob of his prick caught in the squeeze of her womb, he exploded with a thundering convulsion that wracked his whole body while his cock spurted a searing fountain of hot cum into her dark, sweet cunt.
In a matter of minutes, his cock was fully rigid again. He drove on, a perpetual piston, her voluptuous body writhing around his every thrust. She spasmed, screaming. A multiple series of orgasms turned her into a sopping fire of fltsh into which Sam's jerking cock spurted a second shower of hot sperm.
They lay still. He was still inside of her, limp now, but well inside and with no intention of leaving. In a little while, his respiration resumed a normal rhythm, his blood surged, and his young cock hardened yet another time.
When Annie felt his lengthening and thickening prick pressuring the walls of her cunt again, she twisted herself out from under him, sliding her cunt free of him. "Sorry Sam," she told him. "I just can't take you in there anymore. It's raw and it hurts. But maybe you'd like to try me another way." Crouching on her knees and elbows, she spread her thighs and thrust her pretty ass up high in a jaunty, inviting position.
Sam spread her firm cheeks with his hands and angled his cock up to the opening of her asshole. There was no need for lubrication. A blend of his cum, her juices and their sweat had already flooded the entire area between her thighs, drenched the entire shaft of his cock, as well as his balls. He pushed in, gingerly, pausing when she winced and whimpered, pressing on when she stopped. In no time, his hard, throbbing penis was encased in her tight asshole. He began stroking. Leaning over her long, sinuous back, he grabbed two handfuls of tit and squeezed in rhythm with his lunges.
Annie made a long, low sound of pleasure and began a circular movement of her ass around his driving cock. She came quickly, a long, delicious, spilling orgasm with mild, but delightful, spasms.
It was the first time Annie realized how well she liked being fucked this way. And it was the first time since she'd left New York that she thought of Stanley and Peter with kindness.
The owner of the cafe counted out the night's take for the musicians. Including the twenty-five salary, it came to sixty dollars and change.
"You'll do better tomorrow night," the owner predicted. "It's Friday. You might even pull in a hundred a night between the two of you."
"We won't be here tomorrow," said Jed. The place was empty now. It was almost one o'clock. Only Jed, the owner, and Claudia sat at a front table near the stage. The owner looked surprised. So did Claudia.
"I figured you'd be staying at least for the weekend," said the owner. He was clearly disappointed.
"No. We have to push on," Jed told him. He shifted in his chair to pocket the money.
"I didn't know we were in a hurry," said Claudia.
"We weren't. But that's changed now," Jed told her. After they left the cafe, and were walking back to the bus, across the deserted campus, Jed explained in more detail why he had turned down the job and a possible three hundred dollars.
"I don't dig the way I'm feeling," he said to Claudia. "I look at Annie and sometimes I want to just grovel at her feet and beg like a dog, while other times, I look at her and I want to smash my fist into her pretty face. I want to kill Sam. I'm all torn up inside. I have to split this scene. I just couldn't make it another three days, with the two of then? together, living in the same bus.
"I figure the best way to do that is to drive right through to Denver tonight. I have friends there and I can work there."
"It's a shame," said Claudia.
They walked away in silence. "Oh damn it," Jed suddenly exploded, "I know the whole thing is an ego trip. I could have gone home with any number of chicks in that place tonight and there were one or two just as beautiful as Annie. It's just what she did to me-I can't take that."
"You're a poor loser," said Claudia.
"I have to win. It tears me up not to win. And to lose her to Sam. He's just a kid. He follows me around. He used to, anyway."
They were at the bus. Jed asked Claudia to see if they were in there and still awake. "I couldn't make it if they were fucking back there," he explained. Claudia opened the front door and peered inside. Then she reported that they were sound asleep. Jed got in behind the wheel and they took off. He didn't stop driving until they had passed through Kansas City and crossed the Missouri River into Kansas. Annie and Sam slept on. On the other side of the river, with dawn breaking, Jed pulled the van into a truck stop and went into the diner for coffee.
Claudia went to the ladies' room. It was a tiny room and when she opened the door, it bumped against another girl who was washing her hands at the sink.
"Oh, sorry," said Claudia and started to close the door. But the other girl pulled it open.
"I'm just about done. Come on in," she invited. Claudia went inside and the other girl closed the door. She was very tall and she smiled down at Claudia. "My name is Jennifer Brite. What's your name, sister?"
Claudia told her and Jennifer shook her hand with gusto. There was something compelling and intimidating about Jennifer. It wasn't just her height. Her face was nothing less than beautiful, helmeted by short black hair and dominated by huge gray eyes. Although it was clearly feminine, there was something hard in the line of her jaw-defiance burned in her eyes.
She was dressed in faded dungarees that were tucked in to the tops of her boots. Over a shirt, she wore a short denim jacket and around her neck was a red bandana.
"I'm finished now. It's all yours," she said to Claudia, settling a Stetson hat on her head and picking up a knapsack that was leaning against a wall. She opened the door, but only part way. Then she hesitated.
"Sister, you're not heading west by chance, are you?"
"We are," Claudia told her.
"Do you think you could find room for me? I'm heading for Colorado."
"I thfnk so," Claudia said. "If you'll wait a minute, I'll walk out with you."
"I'd be much obliged for a ride, sister," said Jennifer.
Claudia smiled. "I'm pretty sure we can give you one, sister," said she. So Jennifer joined Claudia and Jed for breakfast.
When they finished eating, Claudia placed an order for Sam and Annie which they took back to the bus. Jennifer threw her knapsack in back and sat up front with Jed and Claudia. Claudia drove. West again. Across the straight, flat plains of Kansas, through wide fields shorn of their golden cover of wheat.
The big trouble took place in a small town in Western Kansas, near the Colorado border. All five of the travelers had gone into a coffee shop, leaving the van parked in a huge lot, part of a shopping complex. When they came back, the door of the bus was open and a motorcycle cop was leaning against the side of the vehicle. Two other cops were waiting by a squad car that was sitting to the rear of the bus and blocking it into its parking space.
The motorcycle cop was decked out in full regalia, shiny black boots, tight trousers, striped down the sides, a white helmet and an American Flag patch sewn on his sleeve. He stepped toward the group as they approached the bus.
"This your bus?" he asked anyone of them.
"It's ours-hers and mine," Annie answered him, indicating Claudia with a gesture and moving, smiling, as close as she could to the cop, without defying decorum. The cop couldn't help but look her over, but he got back to business soon enough.
"I'd like to see the registration, please." The other two cops, who wore gray Stetsons, ambled into the scene.
"It's in the glove compartment," said Claudia. "I'll get it."
"It's not necessary," said Sam who was standing by the open door to the bus. "All that stuff is mine. I was hitching and they gave me a lift. They don't know anything about it."
The stuff Sam referred to was a plastic bag of marijuana which lay on the bed along with two pipes and a package of cigarette papers. Claudia started to object, but Jed stepped up behind her and squeezed her arm to stop her.
"Is that true, Miss?" the cop asked Claudia.
"It's true," Annie confirmed.
"I asked this young lady," the cop pressed Claudia.
She looked at Sam. He was smiling. "It's true," Claudia told the cop.
The deputies, at a nod from the other cop, moved in on Sam, standing him against the bus, frisking him down, then handcuffing him and taking him into their squad car, along with the evidence. They sped off, siren screaming.
The motorcycle cop saddled up and started his motor with a sputter and a roar. Claudia stepped over to him. "We want to help him," she said to the cop. He gave her directions to the County Courthouse, explaining that the County Jail was lodged in the same building. Then he roared off down the highway.
At the courthouse, after much waiting, they were told that bail had been set at one thousand dollars. They went across the street for coffee. Claudia and Annie had seven hundred between them which they immediately committed to the bail. Jed said he had two twenty and, of course, he was ready to put it all up.
"We're eighty short," said Claudia.
Jennifer was digging into her knapsack. She pulled out a wallet and counted out the eighty on the table.
"It isn't fair," said Claudia. "You just got a ride with us and...."
"Hey," Jennifer stopped her. "Remember me, I was smoking that stuff right along with the rest of you ever since Kansas City." She patted the money with her palm. "Let's get him out."
Jed threw his money on the table and Claudia added hers and Annie's from a communal purse they kept it in. Jed gathered it all together and made a neat wad of it. "I'll go over and post it," he said.
"I'll wait here if no one minds," said Claudia. "I don't want to go into that place again."
"I'll stay, too," said Annie.
Jed looked at Jennifer. She shrugged. "I'd just as soon have another cup of coffee unless you need company."
"I can manage," said Jed and he left.
The three girls ordered more coffee. They waited. And they waited. And they waited....
After an hour, they were in a highly nervous state. After an hour and a half, they were almost frantic. They paid the bill and walked over to the courthouse. No Jed. It was becoming increasingly obvious that he had just gone in one way and out another. He was an hour and a half on his way to wherever he was going with a thousand bucks in his pocket.
Annie discovered that his guitar and his clothes were missing from the bus. There was no longer any doubt.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
"What will you do now?" Jennifer asked Claudia.
"Not very much at the moment," Claudia replied. "We can't do a lot with only four dollars and thirty-seven cents." She had counted out the money, their total cash resources, on the table in the rear of the van. Jennifer watched her from the front seat.
Annie was not with them. Sam had been permitted one visitor and had asked for her.
"I still have about twenty dollars," Jennifer offered.
Claudia sighed and looked at her. "I think you've done quite enough. You're hitching to save money. You probably could have gone by plane cheaper."
Jennifer chuckled. "First class, too."
"If I were you, I'd forget this ride and get back out on the highway," Claudia suggested.
"But what are you going to do?" Jennifer asked again.
"Well, we're not destitute. I still have a few hundred dollars in the bank back home. I'll have it sent here and then ... well, we'll see then. We have to think about Sam."
"Annie's coming back," said Jennifer. From where they were parked, they could see Annie coming out of the courthouse. When she reached the bus, she climbed in back with Claudia and sat on the bed. She looked at the money on the table.
"Is that it?" she asked Claudia. "Unless you have more."
"I'll have to check my pockets for change," said Annie. "I can probably come up with another buck or two."
"How's Sam?" Jennifer asked from the front of the bus.
"Not too bad," said Annie. "I had to tell him about Jed and the money and that destroyed him, I mean, after him volunteering to take the rap and all. And he really looked up to Jed, too. Anyway, we don't have to worry about him. He called his parents collect in Connecticut and his father is flying out tomorrow to bail him out and get a lawyer and all that." She turned to Claudia. "I'c like to get out of here. There's nothing we can do anymore, so we might as well split."
"I have to call the bank and have them send some money first," Claudia explained.
"That will take time," said Jennifer.
"A day or two, I suppose," said Claudia. "We can sleep in the bus and eat peanut butter sandwiches," she smiled at Annie.
"Look, I have a better idea," Jennifer told them. "Let me lend you twenty dollars. That way I get to keep my ride. We're only about three hundred miles from where I'm going. You can have the money sent there. And you can stay there until it comes."
Claudia looked at Annie. "What do you think?" She asked.
"Fine with me. I told you I wanted to get out of here."
Claudia turned to Jennifer. "Let me call the bank and see what they say before we decide."
"I'll go with you," said Jennifer. "You'll need the address if you decide to send the money ahead."
The bank needed something in writing before they could send the money. An airmail letter would take two to three days and then another day or so was needed to effect the transfer. Claudia decided to take Jennifer's offer. She posted a letter and, with Jennifer's twenty dollar loan, they were on the road again. They left a note for Sam at the courthouse before they left.
Some time later, Claudia driving, they had crossed the border and were in Colorado. Annie was up front next to her. She was frowning.
"You haven't said a word to me since we left that town," she said to Claudia. It was an accusation.
Claudia looked surprised. "I just haven't felt like saying anything," she explained to Annie.
"Bullshit," said Annie.
"I don't understand," said Claudia.
"I know that you're thinking that it was my fault."
"What was your fault?" Claudia wanted to know.
"What Jed did, damn it. If I had kept the deal we made in New York, if I hadn't played games with him and Sam, well, then he wouldn't have done what he did."
"Oh, I see," Claudia replied. "And I'm glad you know you were playing games, but you can't be blamed for what Jed did. Besides, I agreed to change the deal. If you're at fault, then so am I."
"You didn't have any choice in the matter," Annie countered. "They were both after my ass and I could do anything I wanted and I did."
"Even if that's true, it's pretty conceited," Claudia told her.
"You're always the good one. Always so good," Annie lashed out, sarcastically. "I took Peter away from you and you didn't make a peep. And then Sam, and not even a word. You didn't say a word. You're always just as nice as pie no matter what I do to you. Why can't you be human once?"
"I didn't know being nice was inhuman," Claudia answered.
"Oh shit," Annie turned and stared out the side window. Claudia kept her eyes on the road. There was a sadness in them. Jennifer, who had witnessed the entire exchange from where she sat on the bed, turned toward the rear window to conceal the smile on her face.
Not much later, it turned dark. They were all hungry and tired. Claudia pulled off the road at a roadside diner and they went in to eat. The tension between Annie and Claudia persisted and the meal was taken, in a booth, with some small talk, but mostly in an awkward silence. Jennifer finished eating first. She lit a cigarette to smoke with her coffee.
"You know," she said slowly, "I couldn't help hearing what went down between you two back there. That business about Jed."
"Yes?" Claudia looked up, responding eagerly. She had been feeling terrible about the riff between her and Annie. She yearned to bridge the gap between them, but she hadn't been able to think of a way. Here, in Jennifer, was the possibility of help. She knew she needed it.
"Men are like that," Jennifer went on. "They're children, or savages, as you prefer. Women don't understand that. They've been brainwashed into thinking men are superior beings, simply because they happen to be physically stronger. Women are forever being disappointed by men because they attribute to men the qualities that women have, not realizing that men just don't have them."
"What qualities do you mean?" asked Claudia.
"Oh, call it maturity, call it a moral sense, call it common sense or intuition. Call it what you want," said Jennifer. "We have it. They don't. So, Jed ran off with the money. None of us would have done that. So we think he's the same as we are. But he isn't. Men are different than women. They're more animal than we are."
"But how does that apply to Sam?" Claudia asked. "He sacrificed himself for the rest of us. Is that animal?"
"Frankly," Jennifer replied, "I think Sam was stupid. There were five of us. The cops had to pin possession on someone in order to make a case out of it. He jumped into the soup before it was hot. It was a wild, emotional gesture, motivated by a hero complex. And only because he had the girl in contention. If Jed was still in the running for Annie, he wouldn't have run off. It was all competition and ego. That's what motivates them all. That and vengeance.
"That's men. Look at the world. It's a mess. They run it. If it weren't for the little influence women have, the world probably would have been destroyed a long time ago. And we all know, it's touch and go at the moment."
Claudia was thoughtful. Annie was following closely. "Even if everything you said were true," Claudia spoke, "aren't women guilty of the same sort of behavior?"
"Yes. They copy the men. The strongest among women get into the competition and ego thing, too. They use their sex to control men and to defeat their sisters. It's a perversion brought about by the example set by men. Since they are dominant, some of us try to copy them. It's a foolish thing to do, but we do it. I've done it."
Jennifer saw that what she had just said was of great interest to Annie. Her face was attentive. She even nodded slightly, in agreement. Jennifer began speaking directly to the younger girl.
"Annie, when I was your age, maybe ten-years ago, I was very beautiful and lots of men were running after me, too. Do you believe that?"
Annie nodded. "You still are beautiful."
"I was a photographer's model. In New York. I was earning sixty, eighty, even a hundred dollars an hour.
Men were falling on their faces for me. Big men. Important ones. Lawyers and executives. Athletes and musicians. Doctors and politicians. And I played a big ego game with them. I selected and I discarded. I used them. I gave and I took away, indulging my whims and my fancies until...." She paused. Annie's face was rapt with interest.
"Until what?" she asked Jennifer.
"Until I realized that I was only an object for them. None of them saw me as a human being. The only one who did was a woman, an older woman. She's quite famous. You would know her if I told you her name. But I won't. It's not important. What's important is that with her, for the first time, I found love and understanding."
"And you don't think that's possible with a man?" Claudia asked.
"I don't want to get into a discussion about that," said Jennifer. "You see, I've told you all this as a way of preparing you."
"For what?" asked Annie.
"You're coming home with me and you're going to stay a few days. Perhaps longer. We'll see. My home is not an ordinary place. It requires, well, some explanation."
She looked at Claudia and then at Annie. She lit a cigarette. "I belong to a group which is known as The Sisterhood. We have this place. It's a farm. There are about a hundred woman living there. The number varies since people leave and return and there are always new ones. But it's usually about a hundred of us, at any given time."
"All girls?" asked Annie.
"All women," Jennifer replied.
"Sounds like a nunnery," Annie giggled.
Jennifer smiled. "If it is like a nunnery, I don't think you'd consider it typical."
"You said that you were preparing us with all that talk about men and women and their differences," Claudia reminded her.
"Yes. It would be helpful if you both had some understanding of the basic idea that inspires The Sisterhood." Jennifer paused and sipped her coffee. "But before I state that idea, I want to ask you to try and be open to it. Please don't dismiss it simply because it sounds incredible or because you're shocked by it. Give it a chance. Agreed?"
Both Annie and Claudia nodded assent.
"All right. Here goes. The Sisterhood believes that the survival of the human race depends on the total elimination of the male sex."
They arrived in the early morning hours after a tiring drive over winding mountain roads. The last few miles were driven over an unpaved road, so rutted and rocky that they couldn't go more than twenty miles per hour. Nobody was awake when they got there, but Jennifer, after directing them to park beside a building she called The Main House, showed them to an upstairs room which was completely prepared.
The room was small, simple, but functional. There were two cots on either side of a single window. Both beds were made with fresh sheets and blankets. There were two dressers, a closet, and a writing table with a straight chair. That was it. It was more than they needed. Both Annie and Claudia were exhausted and went to sleep immediately.
Jennifer awakened them the next morning. "I didn't know whether to let you sleep or not. You see, if you want breakfast, you have to get up now. They stop serving in fifteen minutes. Of course, if you like, you can miss it, but I thought I'd let you know." Claudia yawned. "What time is it?"
"Nine," Jennifer replied.
Claudia stretched and yawned again. "I'll get up. I'd like to see the place."
"What about you, Annie?" Jennifer asked.
Annie was not curious. "I'll get up for lunch," she mumbled sleepily, half into her pillow, and turned over.
The bathroom was just across the hall outside the room. Claudia washed and dressed and went downstairs. Jennifer was waiting there for her and led her out into the cold, gray morning air. The dining room was located in a separate building, actually a geodesic dome placed about thirty yards from the main house.
The brief walk gave Claudia a glimpse of what was a surprising complex of buildings. There were, Jennifer explained, six separate structures on the farm. In addition to the main house and the dome that held the dining hall and kitchen, there was a big barn, an even larger work shed, a small A-frame that housed a laboratory, and a small dome which was called the nest. Claudia just listened to Jennifer without comment or question. It was clear that more details would be forthcoming since Jennifer promised a tour of the whole place after they ate.
The dining room was bright and inviting. Much of the dome had been covered with clear plastic, blended with styrofoam-light streamed in from all parts of the 180 degree semi-sphere. The food was excellent. Oatmeal, eggs, apple juice, toast, jam, and coffee. According to Jennifer, only the coffee and sugar had been purchased. Everything else they were eating had been produced on the farm.
"We're actually quite self-sufficient," Jennifer told Claudia with obvious pride.
Everywhere were women. All ages and sizes and shapes. Here and there skirts were worn, especially in the kitchen, but most of them dressed in dungarees, work shirts and a variety of outer coats and jackets. The appellation "Sister" was in general use. Claudia was introduced to Sister Susan and Sister Emily, Sister Judy and Sister Pam.
On their way to the barn, Claudia asked about the age range and Jennifer told her that the current youngest was sixteen and the current oldest was forty-eight, but more than three-quarters of the Sisters fell into the twenty-five to thirty-five age bracket.
"We come from everywhere," Jennifer went on. "Right now there are seven Ph.D.'s here and twenty-four with Masters degrees. We have three scientists, a doctor, four lawyers, a poetess and several writers, an actress, quite a few musicians, both amateur and professional, and I could go on...."
"I've got the picture," Claudia smiled. At the barn and in the barn, Claudia was shown chickens and dairy cows and pigs. In back of the barn was a pond where a tribe of ducks were living. Leaving the barn, they circled widely through a huge vegetable patch where everything from beets to lettuce had been planted. Most of it was already harvested.
The workshed was, by far, the largest and most complex unit of all. It contained a metal shop, a wood shop, and a completely equipped garage. Women were welding, doing carpentry, repairing a tractor, doing every sort of job usually reserved for men.
"Our self-sufficiency extends beyond just our food supply," Jennifer commented. Then she led Claudia back toward the main house.
"What about the laboratory and the small dome, the one you call the nest?" Claudia asked.
"You'll see them later, this afternoon, when Annie is with us," Jennifer told her. "I'd like to show you our library and music room. They're in the main house."
When they went to lunch, Annie was with them. During the meal, a pregnant woman entered the domed dining hall. Annie spotted her first and, giggling, poked Claudia with her elbow.
"They must be hiding at least one man around here somewhere," Annie laughed.
Jennifer was smiling. "There are currently three pregnant women in The Sisterhood," she explained. "It's part of an experiment which has been put into operation only recently. Seven months ago, to be exact. But I assure you no man or men were involved in these pregnancies. You'll understand when we visit the lab after lunch."
The laboratory, a maze of glass tubings, chrome machines, and wall sized cabinets stocked with a myriad of bottles and vials, was staffed by women in white smocks and presided over by Sister Betty, a plump, cheerful, fortyish woman with Ph.D. in biochemistry. Sister Betty explained that the three pregnancies mentioned by Jennifer were all induced by artificial insemination. Proudly, she showed them a refrigerated closet lined with. hundreds of file containers. This was the sperm bank.
In it was stored an incredibly diverse sampling of male genetic fluids. Enough, according to Sister Betty, to keep the reproductive cycle going tor a few thousand years. Experiments were in progress to alter the spermatic fluids that were stored, that is, change the genetic codes. The variety of possibilities, which was already tremendous, would then become almost infinite. And they were also working on creating artificial sperm.
When the tour of the lab ended, they went for a walk. After the gray morning, the day had turned quite pleasant. The clouds had parted and the sun was shining through. The air was fresh and crisp. Jennifer took them through a wooded area and then along the bank of a lovely mountain brook
"What happens if one of those pregnancies turns out to be a boy?" Claudia wanted to know.
"They'll all be girls," Jennifer assured her. "We don't have control over many genetic factors yet, but we can determine the sex of the child with absolute certainty."
Annie was shaking her head in puzzlement. "All right, so you've got it all set up here to live without men. But this is just a small place, just a few people. What about the rest of the world?"
"We believe that humankind is on the brink of destroying itself," Jennifer explained. "Man has lost all sense of love and is therefore doomed. This is a cell from which a new humanity will grow."
"You talk about love," said Claudia. "But where is the love here. All I see is efficient, but not warm, not loving."
"You haven't seen everything," Jennifer reminded her. "Specifically, you haven't seen the nest."
"The small dome?" Annie asked.
"Yes," said Jennifer. "It's called the nest. I'll take you there later. After dinner."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A round room, dimly lighted, a reddish soft glow. Foam rubber floor covered by a velvety felt fabric. Draperies, purple and red. Very low sofas. Several water beds of different sizes. One of them nine feet wide. All of them sheeted with silken coverlets.
A sculpture of two Diana-like creatures, their superb bodies entwined gracefully in a passionate embrace. Another sculpture, a single Venus-like figure, glorifying womanliness, her breasts comfortable as well as beautiful, her hips widely functional as well as sexually inviting, and her legs shapely and sturdy, aesthetic, yet capable.
The curving walls of the demisphere were spotted with paintings and drawings. The mediums were diverse-oils, pastels, pen and ink, watercolor. And so were the styles-French Impressiontic, Italian Rennaissance, Persian prints, Japanese drawings, images from ancient India and others from modern New York.
The same subject matter ran through all this variety of art. Love ... sex. Specifically, female, homosexual love. No hard masculine line intruded in any of the pictures. They were all curves, the soft, swaying, flowing forms of female bodies mingled in bath, in bed, on the beach and in the forest, dancing, running, playing, embracing, in attitudes of affection and in postures of passion.
The scene in the room was an incarnation of the artwork. Form into flesh. What was static on the walls was in motion on the floor. That which was flat and purely visual took on depth and became alive.
There was music coming from stereo speakers and blending with low talk and light laughter. The air was heavy with the mingled scents of perfume and pot, incense and the sweet musk of sexual arousal.
The sisters sat, stood and moved about with an easy grace. They were naked, half-naked and dressed. They were there for play and for talk as well as for sex. And the play and the talk and the sex were equally public. They flowed with one another, relaxed and informal. There was nothing clinical about this scene. Nor could it be viewed as efficient. In the nest, there was the love that Jennifer had promised. In the warm, soft sensual atmosphere of the room, it was difficult to even remember the austere order that existed outside of it.
To one side, against the curving wall, was a fitted table. Annie stepped over to it and began perusing its contents. It contained all sorts of fucking equipment, body oils, lubricating creams, vibrators, perfumes, feather ticklers, dildos....
She picked up a dildo and examined it, exclaiming, "Claudia, look at this thing." Claudia complied. The artificial cock was attached to a base that was shaped to fit between the legs of the agressor. The underside of this base was covered, like a brush, with soft but firm fibres, designed to titillate the genitals of the user. Straps were attached to the contrivance. Annie unraveled them. "How do you get into this thing?" she asked.
"Watch," said Jennifer quietly, and gestured with a toss of her head toward two naked women, embracing on a settee, not far from where they stood. At the foot of the settee was an apparatus similar to the one Annie held in her hand. Heeding Jennifer, both Annie and Claudia watched the couple.
One was a pale, slender girl with short blonde hair worn in bangs. The other was a big breasted, darkish woman with a sturdy body set on a pair of muscular legs. At first, the two were locked and writhing in an embrace of arms and legs, lying side by side. But gradually the dark woman took more and more of the initiative until the nymph lay passively on her back while her lover was caressing and kissing, fondling and licking the surfaces, the contours and the crannies of her tensing and anticipating body.
They watched as the woman directed her exquisite attentions completely to the nymph's cunt, sandwiching her head between the soft flesh of the girl's long thighs, making her twist and shudder with pleasure. At last, the woman reluctantly pulled back and slid off the couch. She stood looking down at the prone form of her partner while she strapped the dildo into place. One strap followed the cleft of her ass and up her spine to her waist. Another strap led from her cunt to her navel. Both of these straps joined a waistband that, when adjusted and buckled, held the whole thing steady and in place.
They watched as the woman mounted the nymph who opened her hot thighs to welcome the protruding cock.
"This is sick," said Annie. She squeezed Claudia's arm. "Let's get out of here."
"Don't be silly," Claudia replied.
"I'm going," Annie stated angrily.
Claudia shrugged. Annie split.
The love scene didn't stop despite Annie's abrupt exit. Once penetrated, the nymph folded her longish legs about the flanks of her lover and held on while the dark woman, expertly and powerfully, lunged and humped her into a quaking, convulsive release. They went on from there, but without an audience. Jennifer turned up a joint and she shared it with Claudia on a small sofa on the far side of the room.
"Your friend was shocked," said Jennifer.
"I'm not sure why she reacted that way," Claudia admitted.
"It's not unusual," said Jennifer. "Many women are shocked at first. But not you."
Claudia smiled. "No, I'm not shocked. I'm just amazed as I seem to be continually these days. I find myself being constantly surprised and astonished by the variety of forms love comes in."
Jennifer laughed lightly. She rested a tender hand on Claudia's shoulder. "You know I want you to stay here."
"Yes, I feel that," Claudia told her. "But I can't understand why. I'm not a scientist or a carpenter or anything like that. I can't do the things you need to be done here."
"You'll learn that. What's important is that you know something about love," said Jennifer. "Do I?"
"Yes. It moves in you. In every gesture you make. In every word you say." As she spoke, Jennifer moved her head closer and closer to Claudia's. She was breathing her last words into Claudia's ear and along her cheek. Claudia felt Jennifer's hand move along her shoulder to the back of her neck. She turned her head and parted her lips to accept and return Jennifer's long, sweet, lingering kiss.
Annie slept fitfully, a sleep made restless by undesired dreams, dreams of dildos and velvet beds, dark women with big swinging tits, and Claudia, girls prancing on slender legs, and Claudia, statues and pictures and tubes of lubricating cream, Jennifer, cocoa butter, and Claudia.
She chose not to remember the sequence or the sense of her dreams, not the drama, certainly not who did what to whom. But her thighs were hot when she awoke and the lips of her cunt were moist and parted. It was early. She knew by the dullness of the gray light in the single window of the room. Claudia was not there. Her bed had not been used.
Annie tried to go back to sleep, but it wasn't possible. Instead, she got up and took a long, hot shower that calmed her and left her relaxed enough to feel hungry. So she went to the big dome for breakfast. Which is when and where she met Polly.
A small girl, just over five feet tall, her long auburn hair parted in the center, wearing grandma eyeglasses, Polly sat down next to Annie and put her cup of coffee on the table.
"Hi. I"m Polly," she said, brightly.
"Annie," Annie mumbled her name in an unfriendly manner without looking at the girl.
"Yes, I know. And your friend's name is Claudia. And you're driving west in your bus. And I'm hoping you'll give me a ride when you leave."
Annie looked at her now. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"San Francisco," Polly replied. "Actually a place right near there. Marin County. That's where Gus is."
"Oh," said Annie.
"Gus is my old man," Polly explained. "I'm going back to him."
Annie smiled at her for the first time. "Had enough of this place?" she asked.
Polly shrugged. "Yeah. I guess so. It's not really my bag."
"How long have you been here?" Annie wanted to know.
"Three months more or less."
"How did you get here?" Annie asked. Polly giggled. "Wow! I feel like I'm being interrogated by a cop or something."
"Sorry."
"Oh, that's all right. I'm not into secrets," Polly assured her that she didn't feel Annie was prying. "I heard about the place through some friends in Women's Lib and I thought I'd see what it was about."
"You're in Women's Lib?" Annie asked.
"Well no, not exactly. I've just always been a very political person," Polly explained. "I was in SDS for a while and then I was in Weatherman. If you get into one radical group then you get to know people in other groups. They overlap a lot. People are into two or three things at the same time. So I have friends in Women's Lib."
"Are you...." Annie hesitated. "You said you had an old man."
"Gus."
"Yes. Do you live with him?"
"Off and on," Polly answered.
"Then you're not a lesbian," said Annie.
Polly laughed. "Baby, I don't believe in categories. You know that button they sell in head shops. It says: 'If it feels good do it.' That's where I'm at."
"But you like men?"
"Some of them," Polly replied.
"You're not in favor of eliminating them?" Annie wanted to know.
Polly chuckled. "Oh that! That's a lot of shit."
Annie giggled. "I'm not into this thing here at all," she admitted.
"Some of it is groovy," Polly countered. "I've learned a lot about carpentry here. I really dig doing it. Would you like to come over to the shop and see what I'm making?"
"Yes," said Annie. "Then finish your coffee."
Annie spent much of the next two days in the wood shop, helping Polly, and learning. It was fun. Polly was so turned on by the plane and the saw that her enthusiasm was contagious. Besides working together, they ate together and goofed off together as well. Polly was into smoking grass and digging music and that was fine with Annie. She didn't see a lot of Claudia and when she did, Claudia was almost always with Jennifer. Annie had the room to herself. Claudia was sleeping elsewhere.
At lunch, on the fourth day of their stay, Claudia told Annie that the money had arrived and she had to drive into town to pick it up. She wanted to know if Annie would like to go with her. Annie said she would like to very much. So they drove in together.
"Now that the bread is here we can leave, right?" Annie asked as they bumped over the unpaved road. Claudia was behind the wheel.
"That's right," Claudia agreed.
"Right away?" Annie asked, not believing it would be.
"I thought we'd get an early start tomorrow morning," said Claudia. "It's too late to start out today, don't you think?"
"Tomorrow is fine with me," said Annie. Her face showed her surprise. "But I thought you would want to stay a little longer."
"Why did you think that?" asked Claudia.
"Well, you seemed to be grooving on the whole thing and...."
"Not the whole thing," Claudia corrected her. "I've made a good friend in Jennifer. I love her. But there's a lot about The Sisterhood that turns me off."
Annie's face brightened. "Tell me more."
"Well, you don't going about saving the human race by being in favor of eliminating half of it," said Claudia.
Annie yelped with pleasure. "Hooray! Wow! I thought you were going to join."
"That was silly of you," said Claudia. "It comes from not talking with one another."
"Yes. We haven't talked much at all ever since...."
"Since that whole business with Jed and Sam," Claudia finished it for her. "But we're talking now and that's all that matters."
"Yes, yes," Annie was giggling with happiness. She took out a joint and lit it.
"Where did you get that?" asked Claudia.
"From Polly." Annie passed it to Claudia.
"Is she going with us tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Good. She seems very nice," said Claudia, returning the joint. "She is," Annie agreed.
On the way back to the farm, Claudia pulled out a joint and lit it.
"Where did you get that?" Annie asked.
"From Jennifer." Claudia passed it.
"She's nice, too, like Polly," said Annie. , '
"Yes she is nice," Claudia agreed.
"A little crazy, but nice," Annie giggled. This struck Claudia as very funny and she went into uncontrolled laughter. It was catching and soon Annie was shaking with mirth, too.
"Hey! You're not allowed to laugh. You're driving," said Claudia. This made them laugh even more. "Boy, am I smashed," said Claudia.
"Me, too," Annie added.
"It's so good to be laughing together again," said Claudia.
"It sure is," Annie agreed with gusto. When they got back, Annie went over to the shop to tell Polly they were leaving early the next morning. Then she went back to the room. She had some things to wash before she could pack. Claudia was there, getting her stuff together. She was wearing only a pair of panties. In the narrow passage between the two cots, they kept brushing bodies.
Annie became nervous. Her body was heating up and she felt her nipples go rigid and tingle. She couldn't help stealing looks at Claudia's nakedness and the sight of her neat, lean body, the big nippies on her high, firm breasts, turned Annie on even more.
"Your face is all flushed," said Claudia.
"Is it?"
"Is anything wrong?" asked Claudia.
"N-n-no, n-n-nothing," Annie stammered.
Claudia looked at her for a long moment, studying her. "Annie, I think I know."
"Know what?" Annie was visibly afraid.
"Annie please! Let go of it. Tell me. There's nothing you can't tell me. I love you. And you love me. Don't you?"
For a moment, Annie was frozen. "Yes, oh yes, yes, Claudia, I love you, love you...." She dropped to her knees at Claudia's feet and wrapped her arms about Claudia's naked thighs. She was sobbing. Claudia slid down to her knees and faced her. Annie's head was down and Claudia lifted it with a gentle finger under her chin. Great teardrops glistened on Annie's cheeks. Claudia looked into her eyes.
"Tell me," said Claudia. Annie was silent. Claudia kissed her on the lips, and not lightly. "Tell me."
"I ... want...." The words were catching in Annie's throat. But then, at last, she blurted it out. "I want to do that to you, what that woman did the other night, with that thing."
"The dildo?" asked Claudia.
"Yes, but you don't have to...."
Claudia stood up. She was smiling. "I'll get dressed," said she.
"Not over there. Not in that place," said Annie. "Too many people."
"Don't be silly. There's no one there this time of day," said Claudia, stepping into her dungarees. "Come on."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The nest. The same dim light by day as by night. They lay together on a silk covered water bed, Annie and Claudia, naked, their thighs scissored, their cunts pressing against each other. Side by side, hands stroking backs, lips kissing lips, necks and ears, tongues at play.
Claudia felt the tension in Annie's body, the wrong kind of tension, not the kind that builds and leads to ecstatic release, but the kind that knots up the body and holds back feeling and sensation.
"You're still nervous, Annie."
"I am uptight a bit, I guess."
"What is it?" Claudia asked.
Annie rolled back out of Claudia's arms and on to her back. Their entwined legs were disengaged by the shift of position. "Maybe this just isn't a good idea, Claudia," said Annie. "I feel that you're only doing it because I want to and that makes me not want to ... I just don't know."
Claudia sat up and smiled down at Annie. She placed her hands on Annie's big tits and began stroking them tenderly. "Annie," she cooed softly, "do you remember the night we left Kentucky, when I found you out at the lake by Don's cabin? Do you remember?"
Annie nodded gently. Her eyes were closed and her parted lips expressed the pleasure she was receiving from Claudia's light massage of her breasts.
"You were naked when I rode up on my bicycle, do you remember that?" Claudia asked softly.
Annie nodded that she did.
"Oh, how I wanted to touch you then, these marvelous tits I'm touching now. I ached to touch them that night. I love them. So big. So warm and silky to feel."
Annie opened her eyes. Claudia went on rubbing her gently. "It's true what you just said, isn't it?" asked Annie. Claudia smiled and moved her head up and down. Under her kneading palms, she felt Annie's nipples spring into rigidity. She took the expanded tips between her fingers and twisted and pulled them. Annie gasped and shivered and then rose up and pressed Claudia down on her back.
The tension was gone. Annie assaulted Claudia's body with uninhibited greed, kissing and nibbling with her lips, stroking and squeezing with her hands. Up and down, across and around, tonguing Claudia's ears, licking her neck and shoulders, fondling her breasts, flicking her stiffened nipples, feathering her fingers over Claudia's belly and through her pubic hair to tickle and toy with her opening and dampening labia.
"Oh God," Claudia cried out as Annie's head dipped into the hot vise of her thighs, and her tongue, lapping through the wet spreading lips, flicked and licked Claudia's throbbing little clit. Her loins became lava. "Oh please now, do it now, I'm ready now, now, now,-Annie, please now...."
The dildo was at the side of the bed. Annie stood up and strapped it into place. Claudia watched her and when she sank to her knees on the undulating surface of the water bed. Claudia opened her thighs as wide as she could and closed her eyes. She felt Annie pressing the cock slowly and carefully through the drenched opening of her cunt. Then it slid, still slowly and with care, up and in and deep, stretching her and filling her.
"Oh yes," Claudia breathed. "Yes...."
"Yes, yes," Annie echoed the call and began bumping her pelvis, plunging the cock in and out of Claudia's hot, drenched hole, more and more rapidly, ramming her ass back and forth, as if it were the hammer that was driving in the spike.
Claudia felt reamed and split, helpless at Annie's onslaught. Annie was getting even wilder now, grinding and humping, banging her pelvis harshly against Claudia's. As she pumped and lunged relentlessly, Annie was squeezing Claudia's tits without care. She was out of control. Merciless. Claudia cried out to no avail.
She yelped with the pain, whimpered with the pleasure, and torn by the two, she rocketed into a bruising but delicious orgasm, through a series of convulsions that left her tingling with delight, but sore and aching as well.
When Claudia regained herself, she found Annie lying beside her, on her back, her marvelous breasts heaving with her heavy breathing, the spurious prick sticking up like a pole. She raised herself to her knees and, crouching over Annie's blonde body, unbuckled the waistband and slipped off the dildo. She tossed it to one side. Then she picked up a bottle of scented oil which she had earlier placed by the bed and poured some of it on Annie's belly.
With both hands, she spread the perfumed fluid over the lush, rounded contours of Annie's warm body. The oil mingled with sweat. The perfume blended with the bittersweet odor of cunt juice. Annie's body was gleaming in the soft light. Her protruding nipples shimmered.
Claudia put the oil bottle aside and then, straddling Annie with a knee on either side of her waist, she began to caress her, lightly but knowingly. While Annie had been learning carpentry from Polly, Claudia had been taking another kind of instruction from Jennifer. Thus, she ministered to Annie with a superlative blend of skill and love.
Slow, slow, light and easy, with excruciating patience and gentleness, Claudia coaxed and cajoled, activating little rivulets of delight, merging them into wider and deeper flowings, and bit by bit, nerve by nerve, sensation by sensation, she drew the flowings into a flood of foaming pleasure, making Annie cry out loudly and moan softly, making her squirm and quiver with want.
Only then did Claudia quit her patient fondling of Annie's lovely oiled body. Only then did Claudia focus her attention on the hitherto neglected center of Annie's sexuality.
With Annie's hot thighs against her ears, Claudia dipped into her cunt and began a slow, tormenting licking and lapping of Annie's open lips and pulsing clitoris. She kept this up until Annie was literally screaming with delight and desire for more.
Annie's scream was the final cue. Claudia pinched her clit in her lips so she could flip the end of it with her tongue, just inside her mouth. At the same time, Claudia worked two fingers of one hand into Annie's cunt. One finger of her other hand slipped into Annie's puckered asshole.
With her clit being flicked, with her cunt being reamed, with her asshole being stroked, Annie rocketed quickly into a shattering release. She came with rapid and powerful convulsions. She came trembling and shuddering. She came with a loud whine that devolved into a soft, incoherent whimpering.
Her body melted, her mind misplaced, Annie floated into sleep. Claudia watched over her, sitting with her legs folded, beside her beautiful friend. And Claudia thought about love. How it was to be found everywhere, but always as part of an alloy, never pure, forever in combination with and contaminated by lesser motives and motivations.
There was love in Henry the dentist back in Kentucky. But it was contaminated with caution. And there was love in Stanley Spinner. Sadly, it was corrupted by the need to manipulate and control. And Peter, poor Peter, he had love, too, but his vanity and conceit corroded it.
Jed's love was plated by vengeance. Sam's love was mixed up with the foolishness of unnecessary matyrdom. Jennifer had a lot of love, but it was distorted by fanaticism. And Annie's love was all confused with anger and resentment. Claudia's sore cunt and bruised breasts testified to that.
Was there no pure love? Could it exist unsullied? Only without fear. Claudia knew that was the key preventative factor. Fear. It lay behind Henry's caution, Stanley's need to control, Peter's dependence on his good looks, Jed's ego, Sam's heroism, Jennifer's hatred, Annie's games.
Fear was the termite eating away the tree of love. Claudia had come a long way from Kentucky. At least, now she knew what she was looking for. Annie stirred in her sleep. Claudia smiled down at her. Then bent and kissed her lightly on her rosy lips.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Shortly after they crossed the border into California, the bus broke down. First, the red generator warning light began to flash. Annie was driving. She kept on going, planning to stop at the next gas station to see what was wrong. But the temperature warning light began to flash too. The engine was throwing off steam. Huge clouds of vapor billowed out from under the hood. Annie pulled off the road and stopped the bus on the shoulder.
It was late afternoon. They were in a wooded, unpopulated area. The traffic on the road had been sparse for the last hour or so. Now there were no cars passing at all.
"We'll have to go for help," said Claudia.
"The last gas station we passed was maybe five miles back," said Polly. "If we're going to walk, we ought to go forward."
"It could be ten miles to the next one," Annie conjectured.
"I hear a car," said Claudia, her hand on the door handle. She slipped out of the bus with Annie and Polly following. A big Buick was coming down the road. All three of them started waving at the car. It didn't even slow down, but roared past them. They caught a glimpse of a prosperous, bald man at the wheel and a dressy gray-haired lady beside him.
"Fuck you, too," Annie shouted in the wake of the passing car.
"Pigs!" yelled Polly.
Claudia bit her lip. "Everyone is so afraid," she said softly.
"What now?" asked Polly. "There will be more cars," Claudia predicted. "Yeah, but it's going to get dark soon," Polly countered.
"I'm going to hitch up ahead," said Annie. "I'll put on a skirt, a short one, and I'll get a ride." She started back into the bus, but just then they heard the sound of another vehicle approaching. The road curved behind them and around the curve came a truck. It slowed down and came to a stop behind the parked bus.
"What's the trouble?" asked the driver who was alone. He looked Mexican, but he spoke with no accent. His black hair was not long, not short. He had a moustache and was wearing sun glasses.
Claudia went to the window of the truck and told him briefly about the steam and the warning lights. He got out of the truck and walked over to the bus. He wore jeans, a blue work shirt and his leather jacket was unbuttoned and flapped in the breeze. It was getting chilly.
He opened the hood and looked inside while the three girls stood around him, hopefully. He fiddled around a bit and pulled out the fan belt. "It's not broken," he said, examining it and showing it to them. Then he looked back inside for a minute.
"Look here," he pointed and stood to one side. Both Claudia and Annie stepped over to see what he was pointing at. "See that broken bracket," he explained. "It holds the generator in place which, in turn, keeps the fan belt tight. You need a new bracket."
"Where's the nearest place we could get one?" Claudia asked.
"In town. About four miles ahead. There's a Chevy dealer there. He would probably have one."
"Can we drive it that far?" asked Claudia.
He shook his head quickly. "I wouldn't drive it at all. Your water isn't circulating and your battery isn't charging. You're liable to burn out the engine and the battery."
"Are you going that way?" Annie asked.
"I wasn't," he shrugged. "I live about a mile up the road. But I'll take you." He smiled brightly, his teeth very white in contrast to the black moustache'and his rich, brown complexion.
Since it was getting dark and turning colder, no one wanted to stay behind on the road alone or even with another. So they locked the bus and all three of them piled into the truck. Claudia got up front with the driver while Polly and Annie rode in the bed of the truck.
"My name is Claudia."
"Carlos." He slipped the truck into high gear.
"It's very kind of you to take us into town," Claudia thanked him.
"It's nothing," he smiled.
"Es nada," Claudia chuckled. "I studied Spanish in school."
"You have a good accent," Carlos complimented her. She laughed softly. "Not if I have to say more than two words."
"That's all right," he assured her. "The really important things can usually be said with one or two words."
"Is that true?" Claudia asked.
"Sure. Like 'get out' or 'come on' or 'shut up.' And then there's 'yes' and there's .'no.' And there's Tet's eat' and there's 'let's go.' " He was grinning as he drove.
"What about 'I love you'?" Claudia asked, laughing.
"In Spanish that's only two words," Carlos reminded her, still grinning.
"Te quiero," Claudia said the words. "You're right."
"Actually, that's better said without words." Claudia giggled. Carlos glanced over at her. She smiled at him. He smiled at her. "You're pretty," he told her. Then he added: "See, only two words."
"You, too," Claudia replied and they both laughed.
When the laughter subsided to smiles, Carlos pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Want one?" he asked, continuing the game.
"No thanks," Claudia played along.
He fumbled with a pack of matches.
"Let me," said Claudia, taking the pack and the matches from him and handing him back a lighted cigarette.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
They rode in a smiling silence. Then Claudia asked him if he was a farmer.
"What makes you think that?" asked Carlos.
"Oh the truck and you said you lived a mile from where we broke down. It looks like farm country."
"Actually, I'm a teacher but ... It's hard to explain what I'm doing now."
"Please try. I'm interested," Claudia told him.
"Well, I'm from Los Angeles, born and brought up in the Chicano district. Somehow I got through college anyway. I thought I could help things by teaching in ghetto schools. But that doesn't work. So I quit."
"And now?" Claudia asked.
"We have a farm here, my sister, her husband and me," he explained. "And we have a lot of kids living there with us."
"Kids from the ghetto?"
"That's right. Some orphans. Those are the small ones mainly. And some who just had to get out of the city. They're usually older."
"How many are there?" Claudia asked.
"It varies. Right now, we have eleven. The oldest is fifteen. The youngest is three."
"And what do you do with them?"
"We give them as much as we can," Carlos replied. "It's not always easy, but we try." He wasn't smiling anymore. He puffed on his cigarette. They were coming into town.
The Chevy dealer didn't have the bracket in stock and it was too late to send to Sacramento for it. They would have to wait until the next morning. Carlos offered to put them all up for the night.
"I'm not sure we can arrange beds for all of you, but there's a sofa in the living room and a thick rug on the floor."
The girls discussed alternatives. Sleeping in the bus at the side of the road didn't appeal to any of them. Polly's suggestion that they tow the bus to the farm was rejected as too much trouble. Night had fallen. After they decided to accept Carlos' invitation, Claudia wanted to arrange for a mechanic to come out with the part the next day. But Carlos assured her that it was unnecessary as well as expensive.
"We'll drive in for the part in the morning and I'll install it for you," he promised. "It's just a matter of a few screws to put it in place." Then he drove them back to the bus to pick up their sleeping bags and some personal overnight things. They arrived at the farm in time for dinner.
Carlos' sister, Marisa, was a few years older than him, maybe thirty-five, a plump, brown, pretty woman with a well of the tremendous energy required to mother such a large brood. She was forever in motion seeing to it that noses were blown, faces washed, shoelaces tied, cuts bandaged, hurts soothed, questions answered, and so on. Ray was her second husband. She had two children by her first, but when the kids were killed while playing in a condemned building, her husband flipped, split, and was never heard from again.
Ray was in his forties, a tall, thin, gangling, descendent of Okies who had migrated to California in the Thirties after losing their lands to the bank. He spoke with a slow twang and behaved in an easy, gentle manner.
The children were, as Carlos had described them, of all ages and thus all sizes. They seemed to be quite normal-playful, energetic, curious. One way or another, according to their individual styles, they approached the guests with interest. All except one skinny little girl of ten with an extremely pretty face, marred by the haunted look in her huge, brown eyes. Claudia noticed that she sat through dinner in silence, ate very little, and made no attempt to communicate with anyone, including the other children.
After dinner, when the other kids were romping about the rambling old farmhouse, vying for the attention of the adults, especially the three strangers, this little girl retired to a corner of the living room and occupied herself with a colorbook. Seeing her alone, Claudia disengaged herself from two little boys who were both trying to climb into her lap at the same time, and went over to the girl.-
"Crayons are fun. I used to love them when I was a little girl," Claudia told her. There was no response. She didn't even look up from the book.
"What's your name?" Claudia asked her. She didn't answer. "My name is Claudia," she tried again and again, but failed to get a reply. She persisted. "Do you like to be left alone?" Nothing. "Would you like me to go away?" Nothing. "I'll go away then unless you tell me not to." And nothing.
Claudia found Carlos in the kitchen, drying dishes, and asked him about the girl. He told her that her name was Juanita and that her parents both died, overdosing on heroin when she was six. She had come to the farm only three weeks ago after four years in orphanages and foster homes. No one, not Carlos, his sister, or Ray had been able to make contact with her.
"She's so scared," said Claudia.
"She has nightmares," Carlos told her. "She wakes up screaming."
Claudia went back to Juanita. This time she said nothing to her. She just sat next to her quietly for more than an hour. When Marisa told the little girl it was time for bed, she put her crayons into their box with care, closed the coloring book and got up to go. Claudia remained silent. Just before she went upstairs, Juanita looked at Claudia with a puzzled expression on her face. It was such a small thing, and so brief, that it could hardly be called a reaction. But it was something and Claudia responded to it with a smile.
"Good night, Juanita," she said softly. "I asked Carlos your name. I hope you don't mind." Juanita shrugged as if to say nothing mattered. She closed off again and went up to bed.
Not much later, the adults went to bed, too. With eleven kids in the house, the day started early. The guests were given the living room. They flipped coins for the sofa and Claudia won. Polly and Annie curled up in their sleeping bags on the rug. Claudia didn't bother to get into her bag. She just used it as a cover and settled into the soft sofa cushions.
In the middle of the night, Carlos woke her up, shaking her lightly on the shoulder. "Please Claudia, come quickly, she's asking for you." Claudia sat up. "It's Juanita," Carlos explained. "She had a bad dream. She's asking for you." Claudia was sleeping in panties and a tee shirt. She slipped off the couch and into her jeans, and then followed Carlos up the stairs. "We put her in her own room," he explained as they went. "It was disturbing the other kids. She's down the end of the hall. This way."
Juanita was sitting in bed, crying loudly, her little body shaking with fear. "She won't let me touch her," said Carlos. "But she said your name." He stood by the door. Claudia went into the room. She sat down on the edge of the bed. She said nothing. She made no move to touch the girl. She just sat there.
By the clock, it didn't take very long. Maybe five minutes. But it was an eternity of waiting. At last, the little girl moved toward Claudia who gathered her into her arms and held her against her bosom. She snuggled there, sobbing and shaking, and Claudia held her close and warm.
"I'll be in the kitchen," said Carlos and he closed the door.
He was smoking and drinking coffee when Claudia came into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table and lit a cigarette while he fetched her a cup. He set it in front of her and sat down again.
"She's asleep," Claudia told him, quietly.
He nodded. "Thanks. Sorry I woke you up. But thanks."
Claudia said nothing. They sat in silence, drinking their coffee, smoking their cigarettes. "Must you leave tomorrow?" Carlos asked. Claudia shrugged.
"It would be good if you could stay a few days for Juanita's sake...." His voice trailed off into silence.
Suddenly, Claudia faced him with an abrupt movement of her head. "Why don't you have a woman?" she demanded.
He considered the question. "They all want to have children," he replied. "And there are enough children."
Claudia shook her head in disbelief and started laughing.
"What's funny?" Carlos wanted to know.
"God, Carlos, you're afraid to have children and, at the same time, you're surrounded by them," Claudia shook her head again.
"I'm not afraid...." he began, but she interrupted him.
"Sure you are. You're even afraid to say you want me to stay so you use Juanita for an excuse." Claudia was smiling. Carlos was scowling.
"Be careful what you say," he warned her. "I don't like women talking to me like that, telling me I'm afraid, telling me that...."
"Macho," Claudia leaned over the table and threw the word at him like a challenge. "Isn't that the word? How would you translate it? Manliness? Guts?" She was still smiling. "How about balls?" she asked and started laughing again. His face was livid. "If you were really macho, you wouldn't pussyfoot around about me staying a few days for Juanita's sake. You'd take me somewhere and knock me up and then I'd have to stay." She stood up. "I'm going back to sleep." She started out of the kitchen.
"You're crazy," Carlos called after her.
She turned at the door. "You're yellow."
His chair scraped the floor violently as he jumped up. In one bound he reached her. It looked like he was going to hit her, she made no effort to escape. He stopped and stood there fuming.
"Well, are you going to hit me or kiss me?" Claudia asked him.
His room. His bed. His body on hers, in hers. So brown, so hard. His cock felt like fire churning through her hot cunt. He rammed into her, so deep, so strong, driving his rod up into her belly, ripping her apart with pleasure.
Her thighs quivered uncontrollably against his hard flanks. Her lips sucked greedily on his tongue. She tore at his sinewy back with her fingernails. His squeezing hands cupped her ass and lifted it off the bed. She squirmed her boiling cunt around his thrusting cock and up against his pounding pelvis.
Every muscle in her loins went slack. There was no tension left to slow the flood of sensation. The ache of longing, the tingle and twitch of torment, the shiver and the shudder, all of it flowed together into a torrid raging whirlpool of sheer sensation.
She came, spilling and spasming. He went right on reaming her through her orgasm and was still reaming her when she came out the other side.
"Macho, macho," she giggled and tongued his ear. She twisted her hips to slide her hot, creamy cunt around his still plunging prick. "Macho, macho," she murmured and stroked his back with her hands. She was so open, so wanting, so yearning to receive. She was Earth. He was Seed. It was Spring.
She felt him lurch and then shudder in the vise of her thighs and arms. She hugged his body tightly with all four of her limbs. She squeezed his jerking, spurting cock with the inner muscles of her cunt, milking him of every drop of sperm and sucking it up into the fertile, undefended valley of her womb.
"Te quiero," he whispered, his head resting on the softness of her breasts.
Claudia smiled. Her hands ruffled through his hair. Through the window, she could see the first meager light of a new day.
Annie wanted to say something to Claudia in private. So they walked away from the bus, and down the drive that led to Claudia's new home. Polly was already in the van, sitting up front, ready to go. Carlos had fixed it that morning and it was running fine again. Claudia had moved her things out of it and into the house. There was nothing left to do but leave.
They were invited to stay on longer, of course, but they both wanted to move on. Polly was anxious to rejoin Gus, her old man. And Annie was eager to find out what fate held in store for her.
She and Claudia walked about fifty feet down the drive and then Annie stopped. She looked back at the bus, parked by the house, and saw Polly inside it and Carlos, Marisa and some of the kids gathered around it.
"What is it, Annie?" asked Claudia.
"I want to say something to you."
"You already told me that. What is it?"
"It's about that time, in the nest, when we made love together," Annie spoke slowly. She was having a hard time getting it out. "You made love to me so beautifully, Claudia." Claudia saw Annie's eyes begin to glisten with tears. "But I was terrible to you. I hurt you."
Claudia smiled. "But that's you, Annie."
"Yes, I know that now. That's me. You're right. And you made such loving love to me even though you knew I wasn't so pretty inside. Everyone fucks me because I'm pretty, but you loved me because I'm me."
"And because I love you," Claudia added.
"You're the only one who ever loved me," Annie said.
"Others will love you," Claudia told her.
"Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you do and I want you to know that I know you do. Dig it?" Annie asked.
"I dig it," Claudia smiled.
"Good," Annie smiled back at her. "Let's go back.
I'd like to split. I'm not much on farewell scenes."
They went back to the bus. They kissed and hugged each other lightly and then Annie got in behind the wheel.
"Come and visit," Carlos called to her over the roar of the starting motor.
"I might," Annie smiled.
"Stay out of trouble," Claudia told her.
"But that's not me," Annie laughed and put the bus in gear. Claudia watched them vanish. She walked back to the house with Carlos. Juanita was sitting on .the front steps with her coloring book.
"Want to use my crayons, Claudia?" she asked.
"Let's use them together," said Claudia and she sat down beside her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Polly took over the driving when they fieared San Francisco. It was easier since she knew the way. She skirted the center of the city and cut north into Marin County. Gus was staying in a house which was headquarters for a group of activists. Polly had explained to Annie that this particular group was not part of the underground. Their activities were legal and public. They put out a news sheet; they ran a food cooperative; they were organizing welfare mothers and high school students; they were trying to arouse the general public to ecological issues, and more.
Annie, who was now a confirmed revolutionary, was eager to meet her fellow rebels. As they drew closer and closer to their destination, her excitement mounted.
"Does Gus' group have contact with the underground at all?" she asked Polly.
"If they do, I don't know about it and I don't want to know about it. You should have the same attitude," she cautioned Annie. Anftie nodded her understanding and agreement. The last thing she wanted to be was uncool.
At last, they arrived. Polly pulled the bus into a wide driveway where several cars and motorcycles were already parked. There were also some bicycles scattered around the side door to the house. They went inside, into a large room with several desks and tables. A typewriter was clicking away. A phone was ringing. People bustled about, all of them young, all of them freaks. A large poster of Che Guevara dominated one wall. Other posters were tacked up all around the room. Allen Ginsberg in an Uncle Sam hat, Mama Cass in the nude, Nixon sitting on a toilet bowl....
"Hey Polly! When did you get back?" asked the girl behind the typewriter.
"Just this minute, Pat. Where's Gus?"
"In the little office in back, I think."
"Thanks. Come on Annie." Polly led her out of the big room and down a hall to a closed door. She knocked and then opened it. Gus was in there alone, sitting on the edge of a desk, talking on the phone. He was a heavy fellow, short, wearing steel-rimmed spectacles. When he saw Polly, his eyes went wide and his face broke into a big, toothy grin. He waved her into the room and Annie followed.
"Yeah, yeah," he said into the phone. "Listen, I have to get off the phone now. I understand it all and I'll do my best for you. O.K.?" Pause. "Good. So long."
He hung up the phone and scooped Polly up into his arms. They hugged and then they kissed. "Boy! Am I glad to see you," Gus told her as they relaxed their hold on one another. Then his eyes went to Annie. Polly introduced them and explained that she had met Annie at The Sisterhood.
"God! I hope you're not all dyke," Gus said to Annie, his eyes frankly admiring her beauty. "That would be a real shame."
"Chauvinist!" Polly accused him. She was smiling, but she meant what she said.
"That's the last thing you said when you left," Gus reminded her, with a scowl. For a moment, it looked like they were getting right back into their differences, but Gus sighed and sat down. "Shit. I'm tired," he said softly.
Polly stood by him and stroked his hair. "What's been happening?"
"Oh, the usual. Hectic and harried." He looked up at Annie and his face suddenly brightened as he was seized with an idea. "Hey! How did you two get here? You don't have a car by chance?"
"Annie does," said Polly.
Annie smiled. "It's a bus and I'm not a dyke."
Gus got up and paced about nervously for a moment. "Is it all right to talk?" he asked Polly. Polly looked at Annie and then nodded to Gus. "Annie's cool," she told him.
"You know Berko and Duffy have gone underground?"
"I heard they did," Polly replied.
"Well, they're holed up in this pad in Oakland and they have a deserter with them, a kid, he's got to get across the border. If he can get to Seattle, then it's easy. But the kid is too hot to use public transportation and we don't have a safe car. The pigs know all our cars. Every motorcycle cop has a list of them. We get stopped all the time."
"I'll take him to Seattle," said Annie.
Gus nodded at her with approval. "He will also need a girl to accompany him across the border. If you don't want to do that, we can get someone else to...."
"No. I'll do whatever needs to be done. That's what I'm here for," Annie explained.
"All right. Sit down and I'll run it all down for you."
Just before dawn. Annie drove the bus slowly through the streets of Oakland, following a memorized map in her mind. At a stop sign, she glanced at the wristwatch Gus had given her. Right on time. She turned right and went slowly down the street. There he was. She saw him move out of the shadows and into a splash of light under a lamp post up ahead.
She drew up to him and stopped. The window on her right was rolled down less than half way and the door was locked. "Who are you?" she asked.
"Ken."
"Who am I?"
"Annie."
She leaned over and unlocked the door. He threw a khaki tote bag on the seat and then followed it into the bus. He slammed the door and Annie drove on. By the time dawn broke, they were rolling north on the highway.
Ken was a tall, skinny youth, about twenty-two. His face had that open, small-town America look. He looked straighter than anyone Annie had seen since Kentucky. At the moment, he was a nervous wreck. He was smoking one cigarette after another, stopping in between only to chew on his fingernails. His blue eyes were bright with fear. He was so scared that he hadn't reacted, not one little bit, to Annie's sexuality.
Several times, she tried to talk to him, but he wasn't talking, not about the weather, the dawn, the price of apples. He didn't even want to stop for breakfast. Just for gas and cigarettes. That was too much for Annie to take. She stopped at a roadside diner and told him she was going to eat. He could wait in the bus if he liked. He followed her inside meekly, but he didn't eat anything. Just drank coffee and smoked an endless procession of cigarettes.
He was the same when they started out again, fidgeting, biting his nails, and forever puffing away, one smoke after another. Annie played tapes. He didn't even respond to the music. She wished she had a joint to smoke, but on a trip like this, one doesn't carry. She drove on.
About noon, Annie realized that his nervousness was contagious. She found herself smoking almost as much as he was and she caught herself drumming her fingers along the edge of the steering wheel purposelessly. So she pulled off the road and stopped the bus.
"Why are we stopping?" Ken was quivering like a spring.
"Look, you're making me nervous. You sit there. You don't say a word. You're fidgeting like a sparrow...."
"I can't help it. Man, I'm escaping. People are after me. I'm not used to this kind of thing. Maybe you do this sort of stuff every day, but I don't."
"See the bed back there," Annie cooed softly. "You're tired. Why don't you go back there and try to sleep?"
"I don't think I could."
"Try."
"I haven't had much sleep the last week or so," he admitted. Then he shrugged. "All right. I'll try." He got out one door and went in another. He laid down on the bed. Annie shoved the van into gear and rolled back on to the highway. Ten miles later, she glanced in the rear view mirror and saw that he was sound asleep. Relaxed, Annie drove on steadily.
At sunset, she was on a coastal road not too lar from Seattle. It was clear that the sunset was going to be a beauty. She needed a break. So when she spied a deserted parking area overlooking the ocean, she turned into it and brought the bus to a stop. She sat for a moment looking out over the glorious ocean, watching the scarlet sun sinking in the sky. Then she went into the back of the bus.
She sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and looked at him. In sleep, his face had relaxed. He looked so young and vulnerable. Like a little boy. Gently, she touched him on the leg. He shot up into a sitting position like a jack-in-the-box. "What's happening?" His eyes were full of fear again.
"Nothing, nothing," Annie soothed him. "I stopped to watch the sun go down. Look out there, isn't it lovely?"
"Yeah, I guess so," he allowed, briefly glancing out the window.
Annie shook her head slowly back and forth. "Hey man, why don't you dig it?"
"I do. It's a nice sunset."
"Not just the sunset, dopy. The whole thing. Man, it's an adventure. And this is a scene. Here you are. On the run. Making it to the border with a far out chick. And you stop on the road. It's beautiful. The sun, the sky, the trees. Nobody around. Even a bed. Man, dig it all, the whole thing. It's exciting."
She pressed her hand gently against his chest, making him lay down again. Then she crouched on her knees on the bed and bent her head down to his, her long blonde hair cascading around his face. "Don't you want to fuck me?" she asked him, smiling, her lips inches from his. She stayed that way for a long moment, locking his eyes with her own. Then she dropped her mouth over his and opened his lips with her tongue.
He tried. He really did try. He kissed her lips and licked her ears. He pulled off her sweater and worked her tits and her nipples with his fingers and his mouth, making her run with hot jdly. He humped and ground his groin against her pelvis with clothes on and then with clothes off. He twisted his naked body against hers, over her and under her. He made her hot and sodden and desiring. But his cock stayed soft. It got a little hard, then soft again, then a little hard, and so on. But it just would not stiffen enough to be effective.
At last, he fell on his back and groaned. "It's no use."
Annie's heart went out to him. Poor, scared little boy, on the run. Despite the intensity of her own need, she felt it was more important to give to him. She slid down the bed and scissored her warm thighs around one of his legs. Her breasts rested softly on his loins, her belly along his thigh. She picked up his slack prick between her fingers and began a slow, warm, wet sucking with her lips and her tongue.
When it was half-hard, she placed it between the warm satiny cushions of her breasts. In that fleshy enclosure, nourished by softness and heat, it stiffened a little more. Annie went on licking and sucking at the knob. She worked hard and long. The sun went down. The sky darkened. It was night before she felt his cock surge and throb, filling her mouth as the blood rushed into it.
From then on, it was easy. Ken had a good cock. She could rub it between her tits. Tickle and tease it with her tongue. Feather it with her fingers. Nibble it with her lips. Suck it with her mouth.
She made him squirm. She made him moan. She was artful. She was patient. She gave him every delightful caress she could think of. And she concluded, by holding his knob in the gentle clamp of her lips while his cock spasmed and his seed spurted, hot and salty, into her warm submitting, receiving mouth. He fell asleep immediately.
She dressed and got back behind the wheel. How good she felt. She had experienced no physical gratification, yet she felt really fine. It was something new for her. The joy of giving. The wetness in her cunt didn't even bother her. She loved herself so much for loving him so well.
Ken was awake and sitting up front with Annie when they reached Seattle. He had resumed his fidgeting and his chain smoking. He didn't say a word to her. But she was too busy to be annoyed or angry. Again, she was following a memorized map which led them into the quiet night streets of a suburb.
She stopped in front of the white clapboard ranch house. The light over the front door was burning. They both went up the walkway and Annie pressed the bell button. A thin girl about twenty-five with long, brown hair who was wearing a patchwork skirt opened the door.
"Yes?"
"I'm Annie and this is Ken."
"Who am I?" the girl asked.
"You're Margaret and your husband is Dan," Annie answered.
"And who are our friends?" asked Margaret. "Berko and Duffy."
"Come in. please."
Dan was in the living room, playing with a little boy about three years old who was dressed for bed in blue pajama. Dan was tall, thin, about the same age as his wife, scholarly in appearance, his hair was not excessively long and he wore black glasses.
Margaret offered them food and drink. Ken wanted only coffee, but Annie accepted a ham sandwich and a glass of milk. While she ate, she talked about nothing with the couple. The little boy wanted a sip of her milk and ended up sharing the glass with her. Ken sat silent, smoking.
After Margaret put the little boy to bed, Dan got down to business. "You'll leave your car here. We have a car for you with Canadian plates. You'll leave all your ID here. We have Canadian licenses for you, as well as car registration papers." He opened a drawer and put the papers on the table. "You're Mr. and Mrs. Williamson. You're Sara," he said to Annie. "And you're Robert," he told Ken. "The licenses, you can see, are fitted to your descriptions, age, weight, eye color, the whole thing. The car is a brand new Buick. Very plush. There are reasons for all this. With Canadian ID, you're less likely to be stopped on the American side. The car implies money. Border guards are bureaucrats and nothing impresses them more than wealth. Poverty makes them suspicious immediately. So you have to dress the role. Do you have clothes?" he asked Annie.
"Yes. In the bus."
"Good. And you. Ken?"
"Just what I'm wearing."
"All right. You're about my size. I'll fix you up with something. Now, you should leave here early in the morning. You want to time it so you cross between nine and ten o'clock. That's the busiest time so they're more distracted then. Any distraction is helpful.
"When you get to the other side, you go to Vancouver to this address." He handed a paper to Ken. "Please commit it to memory. Don't take the paper with you. Any questions?" He looked from one of them to the other.
"After I take him to Vancouver, do I just come back here?" Annie asked.
"That's right." He waited a moment. "It's all clear then?" Both Annie and Ken nodded that it was. Dan and Margaret went to bed. Annie fell asleep on the couch. Ken paced about and smoked. When Margaret woke up Annie, it was still dark. Dan had pulled her bus into the garage. A big, blue Buick was parked in its place. Annie went into the bus for clothes. She showered and dressed. She wore an extremely brief mini skirt, boots, and a jersey that clung to the curve of her tits and outlined the protruding tips of her nipples.
Dan said, smiling: "That's quite an outfit."
Annie smiled back. "You said any distraction is helpful." They both laughed. So did Margaret. Ken was silent. He was dressed in a rich, suede jacket and expensive worsted slacks. His own boots had been polished to a gleam. A silk ascot was tied around his neck and tucked into the collar of a red sports shirt. They were ready to go.
Dan walked them out to the car. Annie hesitated at the curb. "Who's driving?"
"You drive," said Ken. "I'm too nervous."
"It would look more conventional if the man was driving," said Dan.
"I'm just too nervous," Ken repeated.
"All right," Dan shrugged. Annie got in behind the wheel and Ken sat next to her. "Good luck," said Dan. And they were off.
The closer they got to the border, the more nervous Ken became. He fidgeted. He squirmed. He bit skin off his fingers now that the fingernails were all gone. And, of course, he smoked. "I wonder if I'm doing the right thing," he murmured. "Do you think it's right what I'm doing?"
"I wouldn't be helping you if I didn't think so," Annie replied.
"I hope we don't get caught. God! We're almost there." Signs announced the border check up ahead. It was morning. Chill. Gray. On the verge of drizzling. The traffic was heavy, moving slowly through customs. Annie felt unreasonably calm and elated. It was like being in a movie, she thought. And not a Stanley Spinner production either. This idea made her smile. Her smile made Ken more uptight. He was on the edge of trembling.
They reached the American booth. The guard glanced into the car. Then he took a longer look. But it wasn't contraband or fugitives that he was interested in. It was Annie's tits and Annie's thighs. Finally, he smiled and wished them a good trip. The Canadian side took a little longer. They asked to see the car registration. But it was no problem. They drove on. They were in Canada. Ken heaved a giant sigh and all the tension spilled out of him. "We made it. We made it." He yelled at the top of his lungs. He broke into laughter, not mirth or joy, but hysterical release.
"Let's stop. I need a drink," he said.
Annie was obliging. She parked in front of a bar on the main street of the border town. Ken reached over and turned off the ignition. He took the keys and dropped them in the pocket of Dan's jacket. "I'll take these," he grinned. "I feel like driving now." Annie didn't like the way he did that.
They went into the bar. There were booths and a jukebox. He ushered Annie into a booth. "What'll you have?"
"Nothing really."
"Oh come on now, we have to celebrate," said Ken.
Annie looked up at him. It was incredible. The change. Jekyl and Hyde. Her scared little boy had turned into a loud, aggressive boor. "All right. I'll have a glass of wine."
He went to the bar to order. Before he picked up the drinks, he dropped two quarters in the jukebox and pressed six selections. He came back with Annie's wine and a double whiskey and soda for himself. He sat down next to her and finished his whole drink before Annie took a second sip of hers. He fetched himself another, drank half of that and then started playing around with Annie's thighs.
"You must be pretty horny after what happened yesterday," he said, his lips close to her ear. "But don't worry, baby, I'll make it up to you today. Here, feel that." He grabbed her hand and forced it between his legs, touching it to his erection that strained against the fabric of his trousers. "How's that?" he asked her.
"Want some of that?" He laughed.
Annie forced herself to smile. "Ken, baby," she cooed in his ear. "Please let me out."
"What for?"
"Gotta go, baby," she kissed him on the lips. He smiled and got up so she could slide out of the booth. When she was standing, she feigned a shiver and rubbed her arms with her hands. "It's cold in here. Let me wear your jacket." He took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, copping a feel of her tits as he did it. "Mmm," said Annie and backed her ass against his groin. "Be right back."
She went into the ladies' room, checked the pockets of the jacket to make sure the keys and the car papers were there. They were. She crawled out the window of the bathroom and went down an alley that led to the main street. She got into the car, threw Ken's tote bag out the window to the sidewalk in front of the bar, and drove back to Seattle.
"You're back early," said Dan, when Annie arrived. "I didn't take him all the way to Vancouver."
"How come?"
"He felt like walking."
"Oh." said Dan and dropped the matter. There were more important affairs to discuss. He told her that he had optional instructions for her. What that meant, Dan explained, was that he had a job for her but she could choose to do it or not.
"What is it?" Annie wanted to know.
"Deliver two cases of dynamite," Dan told her.
"Oh. Where to?"
"To Berko and Duffy. Near Monterey. I'll tell you exactly where if you decide to do it."
"Sure I'll do it."
Annie sits behind the wheel of a station wagon. The motor idles quietly. The street is dark and deserted except for the lone figure of a man at the corner. Berko. Annie watches him intently for the signal. Suddenly, he is flashing a pocket light. She rams the car into gear and hurries it down the street toward him.
Just as she reaches him, another figure dashes out of the darkness. Duffy. She comes to a stop at the curb and Berko jumps in beside her while Duffy clambers into the back seat.
"Drive your ass off," Duffy tells her. She does, racing down the wide street, veering around a corner. Behind the speeding car, the night explodes with light. A deafening roar. Walls crumble and the streets tremble.
Annie speeds into the night.
Berko is big and bearded. His huge, hairy body is stretched on the bed,-his thick, purple cock rises like a column straight into the air.
Annie is delightfully impaled on it. Her thighs bridge his loins. She slides her dripping cunt up and down the length of his rod, squeezing it with her labia on the upstroke, enveloping it on her downstroke.
As she rides Berko, he gently twiddles her clitoris with an extended index finger.
Duffy is not as big as Berko, but he is lithe and strong, with red hair and a red beard. His long, thin pliable cock moves with sweet power in and out of Annie's slick and receptive asshole. His arms are wrapped around her hot, young flesh. His hands squeeze her tits and his fingers are twisting her nipples.
The radio is on. They are fucking to the news.
"...huge explosion shattering the Army warehouse. destroying tons of equipment destined for shipment to forces in Laos. The early morning streets were filled with the rubble of debris. Fire trucks fought a dozen blazes set off by the explosion. Ambulances were on the scene, but as yet no casualties have been reported. Police say that there was probably no one in the building at the time of the explosion. They suspect that dynamite was used and they report that radical underground activists were...."
Berko bucks his ass off the bed, driving his cock up into Annie's cunt. Duffy batters her from behind. She screams with delight. They roar with pleasure. They rocket out and over the brink into a convulsing, shuddering, triple orgasm.
Their timing is perfect. The results are explosive. They are experts in such matters.
