All legal jurisdictions have their definition of adulthood. Some say the full rights of citizenship cannot be exercised before the age of eighteen, twenty-one, et cetera. In some instances, an "adult community" is open only to those over forty-five. These distinctions, rather than being matters of facts, are pure opinion. For instance, we now "protect" juveniles in court cases, concealing identities, making them wards of special institutions, and so forth. During the feudal era, persons of the same age could have been, and often were, executed or maimed for the same crimes. An eight-year-old was simply a small adult. This is understandable when we realize that a seventeen-year-old mother would most likely be dead by the time her child reached eight. The person would be fending for himself, and with the necessities of adulthood come the responsibilities.
Young people in our society are shielded from these necessities and responsibilities by their parents and the law. The problem with legislating the limits of childhood is in the variation in individual growth rates and circumstances. If all parents were loving and concerned, all children dutiful, and the community ready to provide for orphans or exceptions, the legal limitations would work beautifully. Unfortunately, this is not so.
Heather Layton is an example. The last several years have shown us all that the machinery of our society has a great many chipped gears. Heather is expelled through the grinding of the cogs against a speck of grit, then must try to survive outside the accepted limits. How well or poorly she accomplishes this is for the reader to decide.
-THE PUBLISHER
CHAPTER ONE
Heather Layton was tall and slender and sixteen years old. Her wavy blond hair fell just past her shoulder blades, and her large bright-blue eyes were half closed against the bright sunlight of the June day. She sat with her long, tanned legs crossed Indian-style under her boy friend's head. Heather's high, proud breasts strained her thin bra as she heaved a sigh. She put her pillowy lips to the rim of the beer can and took a little sip. "You shouldn't have stolen this from your dad, Ray," she said. She trailed her fingers along the side of his face.
Ray Martin looked up between the twin tents of her titties. He smiled and pressed the side of his head against the warmth of her pussy, rubbing the cloth of her skirt and panties against the blonde-furred nest he'd touched so often in the last six months. "He won't miss it," Ray said. He slid his chilly fingertips from her knee to mid-thigh, raising goose bumps on Heather's soft skin. "Ditch day beats hell out of going to class." He heaved himself up and kissed her.
The tips of her nipples sprang up, and Heather let herself lean back onto the grass. A hungry, hollow feeling inside her made Heather suck his tongue into her mouth and pull Ray down on top of her. After the strange, surly way Ray had been acting for the last few weeks, feeling his arms around her made Heather want to do anything she could to hold onto the warm, fluttery feeling in her pussy. All the long evenings of touching and hugging and stroking each other before she finally resisted him had linked Heather to Ray like a chain of rubber bands. The other girls at school insisted that she must have been sleeping with him, but Heather ignored them. She'd just smile secretively and think of the warm sweaty feeling of that satiny cock skin and the rigid, unyielding heat of the bar inside. The long, moist touches of his fingers on her love mound didn't have anything to do with Ray taking her out, she knew. They liked each other, and the sexy play was fun. That was all there was to it.
Something was different this morning, though. Maybe it was the warm sunshine that made Heather wish she could lie naked on the grass of the hillside, or the fact that they'd dodged the rest of the senior class. Even before Ray's hand had traced its way up to the thin elastic line at the leg of her panties, her pussy was warm and slippery with heavy, aromatic juice. She felt how the clear stain had spread from the top of her vee to the base of her bottom cheeks when a little gust of breeze chilled her loins. "Ummm, we've got all day," she purred.
Ray nodded. He moved down from her lips to nip gently at the smooth skin of her throat. His hand slid across the bulge of her panties, then slowly under the waistband. "A long, long day, Heather."
Even with the loose, warm feeling that flowed all through her, Heather tensed when his fingers neared her pussy-crease. His chest pressed her nipples back down into the firm swell of her titties, and she felt the unmistakable length of his prick against her right thigh. Heather pulled his shirt tail out and slipped her fingers under the edge of his pants, down to the top of his buttocks. She raised her hips an inch or so, inviting him to slide one finger down the center of her pussy cleft.
Ray pursed his lips, holding his head back. Heather craned her neck up to kiss him, but he stayed half an inch away. The hand in her panties stayed off her labia, too. Ray bent his fingertips just enough to tickle at her pussy-fuzz.
Heather liked sexy games when she played with Ray. She'd tease him by not quite touching his prick, or by letting go when she felt it starting to swell up before he shot. "Come on," she said, "Oh, Ray, please!"
Ray smiled and shook his head. "It's a long, long day," he said. "Nobody expects us until late." He dragged the tip of his middle finger deeper through Heather's juice-wetted pussy-hairs, staying just a fraction away from the edge of her slit. "There's no hurry."
Heather dug her hand further into the back of his jeans. She cupped her hand over one of his buttocks and tried to reach down to his balls. The jeans were too tight, and all she managed was catching her fingers in his crotch. "Oh, be nice, Ray! I never had to ask you before!"
"I always had to ask," Ray said. "Now it's your turn."
"You bastard! All right," Heather laughed.
"Touch my pussy, Ray." She shivered. Coming out into the open with the request made a fresh gush of pussy cream flow out of her vagina. She licked her lips and looked up at him.
"Pardon? I didn't hear you," Ray grinned. He dabbed one fingertip down into the warm hinge of Heather's thigh, skidding the back of his nail along the skin. Heather stiffened, then asked again.
"Put your hand on my pussy, Ray. I like it.. . I want it," she said.
Ray rested his palm just above the hot little fold where her cli tty was starting to stand up. He slid his free hand up from Heather's waist, moving slowly and sensuously under her little blouse to the edge of her bra. He traced the firm contour of the underswell of one breast, then teased up toward the littler marble-hard peak of her nipple. Heather twisted her shoulders from side to side, offering the tips of her lush titties. "Oh, yes, there too," Heather hissed. "Yes, touch my nipples, too, Ray." She raised her pelvis, spreading her knees further. "My pussy needs it," she said. Her face began to get flushed.
"Say it, say exactly what it needs," Ray insisted. He pressed his fingertips against her labia for an instant, then tickled the tops of her thighs.
Heather slid her hand around from his buttock to the side of his hip, then tried to worm around to his cock. "Squeeze it, squeeze me tight, then put your finger into me," she whispered. Heather had never really talked about it before . . . Ray had needed stopping more than pleading.
Heather's voice was getting breathy. She rolled her hips around, pulling her thigh out from under Ray. "Oh, no," she whimpered, feeling the steady, even pressure of his palm leaving the top of her love mound.
"Ohhh, yesss," Ray said, sliding his hand around from the center of her pelvis to the edge of her hip. He rolled back, slipping his hand around the voluptuous curve of Heather's ass-cheek and lifting. She rolled toward him, and they lay on their sides, facing, only an inch or two apart. Ray kneaded the delightful shape of her bottom lasciviously, smiling as the growing excitement showed on Heather's face.
"Oh, please, Ray! Come on, baby," Heather begged. She threw her leg over his thighs. The ends of his fingers slithered under the elastic of her panties. She didn't know whether to roll toward him, offering the moist, simmering heat of her pussy, or push back against the hand that was waking every lusty nerve in her bottom. "What are you doing to me? Please, please put your finger in my pussy, baby!" She pulled her hand out of his jeans and tugged at his belt.
Ray kept kneading that full, strange new sensation into her cheeks as Heather undid the front of his pants. Heather was shaking so badly that she needed both hands to spread his fly. The roving, squeezing, caressing fingers on her bottom made Heather feel like her whole pelvis could respond to his touch, not just the hot, puffy bulge of her labia and the entrance to her hole.
Heather hadn't stared so long and hard at his penis before. This was the first time she'd ever seen it in daylight, the first time they hadn't been hiding in the dark shadows of his car when their hands worked urgently at each other. She even smelled the dusty, oily sweat of his crotch. Heather's nostrils flared and she started to drool. The lovely young girl was so surprised by her instant reaction that she couldn't touch his cock or the hairy sac for a long, heart-throbbing minute.
"Please," Heather whispered again. With that long, strong-looking bar of virile cock standing sideways in front of her, she needed to feel his hands on her pussy. Heather's hands were shaking like leaves when she finally reached for his prick. She thought, Could I.. . kiss it? Is that . . . If I.. . Heather groaned.
The prick in front of her eyes was ail she wanted to look at. The longer she stared, the bigger it got. Slowly, as if her elbows were rusted, she reached and wrapped her fingers around the middle of the shaft. Heather stroked up and down like a creaky automatic machine. She licked her lips again and again, wondering if her boy friend would be disgusted if she took the swollen end of his prick in her mouth. She held the shaft still for a minute and spread the pearly-white cock lube across his glans with one palm.
Ray's cockhead gleamed in the sunlight. Heather's eyes were locked on it. It could have been a hypnotist's bauble, reflecting streaks of light that paralyzed her mind. Neither her hands nor her eyes could move. Each time Heather slipped the looser skin of the shaft up over the broad, blunt head and back down, the knob got larger and darker. Ray's prickhead was almost the color of an eggplant, and the smooth surface got bumpy as it swelled bigger and tauter with blood.
Ray still only toyed with Heather. The curvy blonde's nipples had swollen until they ached. The whole mass of each luscious titty was full and heavy, hurting a little like a stiff muscle. Her panties were soaked with what felt like gallons of pussy-cream. Heather gasped when Ray's hand left her bottom and slithered down her thigh, then back up.
Ray slid her panties up, instead of down. Both leg-bands slipped into the cleft of her buttocks, letting the sunlight blaze off the untanned skin of her ass-cheeks. Her little skirt was up to her waist. Ray ran one hand back and forth from one naked cheek to the other.
Heather stroked faster at his prick. She thought she would curl up and die if he didn't touch her pussy soon. The little triangle of nylon over the bulge of her pussylips was stretched tight as a drumhead. Her cream squeezed out of the filmy cloth, flowing onto the top of her thighs. The elastic of the leg bands dug into the ticklish little groove where her legs met her belly. The tight, cutting feeling ran along both sides of her pussy-hole, up over her rectum, then out in a straight line across the top of her bottom. She heard herself whimpering louder, but Heather didn't care.
The cheeks of her bottom felt hot. Heather thought she would explode if Ray didn't do more than just caress her. The blazing spike of her erect clitty was ready to singe a hole through the thin fabric of the tight-stretched panties that held the heat of her pussy in against her skin. She moved her hips back and forth, wishing she was totally nude in the sunshine. It wasn't because she wanted sun and breeze-Heather wanted Ray's hand in, on, all over and around her pussy.
Heather stroked her hands up and down on Ray's cock like churning butter. She tried to hurry him, needing more, hotter touches.
Ray stalled, obviously enjoying the way Heather was responding faster and more urgently. "I love it," he muttered.
"Oh, goddammit, please," Heather begged. Her voice sounded squeaky, even to her. She was almost whining. "R-ray, I'm going crazy," she said.
"Your ass feels so good," Ray said. "It's like satin, like smooth, sleek satin over warm pudding." Ray pulled her skirt up higher, until only the little tee of the panties protected Heather's skin. Wiggling down until Heather had to let go of his prick, he kneaded both asscheeks in his hands and kissed just above the waist of her panties.
Heather didn't cared care what Ray said. All she wanted was his fingers, his hands, anything playing on and around her cunthole and the pink lightning-rod of her clitty. She briefly thought of her exposed ass, then decided even spectators didn't matter. "Dammit, touch my pussy, baby," she whimpered.
Heather shoved her ass back against his hands, then scooted forward when Ray slid down to nuzzle at the tops of her thighs. She found the blunt end of his nose with the center of her cunt-mound and rubbed up and down on it.
It didn't do as much for her as his hands would have, but it helped dissipate some of the tension gnawing at her belly. Heather moaned and growled, her little blouse soaked with lusty sweat. 'Take me, honey, please! Oh, my god, Ray, take me!"
Ray pulled back. He looked up at her blushing face. He sat up. "You mean it?" Ray started shaking, his hands quivering as much as Heather's had been.
Heather felt a chill of fear, but she knew she did want it. All the thought, the discussions with her girl friends, the warnings of her mother, all of them disappeared. The burning hunger in her pussy needed something, whatever it was. She bit her lip and nodded. Heather rolled onto her back.
Ray looked worried. Here it was, his first chance to actually slide his prick in the hot, soft moistness of Heather's pussy-or any pussy, for that matter. He tried to look determined and self-confident, but his eyes were troubled. He nodded, hobbling around with his pants around his knees. "Okay, Heather."
"Oh, yes, yes, yes," Heather said. She raised her hips off the grass, helping Ray to slide her panties slowly down, then off. The cool air chilling the puffy pink of her pussy made her realize again how incredibly wet the whole area around her cunt was. The dark-blonde hairs that usually would have uncurled when the panties came off were matted down with hot, woman-scented pussy cream.
Ray knelt between Heather's raised knees, then leaned forward. He looked down at her pussy, fully exposed to him for the first time. He steadied his prick with one hand. "Don't worry," he said, as much to himself as to Heather.
The voluptuous blonde girl looked up at him over the hem of her skirt. She saw the end of his cock go out of sight and thought, Why should I worry? As long as I.. . we . . . Oh gawd!
Something hot and wide touched the first folds of her pussy. Heather thought it was wonderful, the best thing she'd ever felt. She inhaled when Ray spread her pussylips with his fingers, then held absolutely still as he pushed forward.
"Ummnnh!" she grunted. The sudden pressure had almost turned her pussylips inside out, forcing them up toward her cuntal channel. "Please," she sighed.
Ray didn't know whether she wanted him to stop or to keep going. The raging cyclone in his balls wouldn't let him stop. The dripping, soft-walled haven of her cunt was only inches away. He waited while Heather forced her knees further apart, then started over, more gradually.
Heather let out the breath she'd been holding. The pressure at the mouth of her vagina increased slowly, much more slowly than the rhythm of her heart. She concentrated on the slow stretching, the steady, even increase in pressure, and the throbbing all through her crotch.
The concentration seemed to work. She was opening a little at a time. The shape she'd touched so often seemed strange as well as familiar. The mouth of her cuntal opening molded to it in a way her fingers never could. She cooed under her breath and began to move her hips in a slow, sensual circle.
OA, that's nice, Heather thought. Ray's cock was moving with her, tracing around with the slow rolling of her hips. She wondered for an instant if the swiveling bent his cock or hurt him. A single look at his face told Heather that Ray was enjoying the motion as much as she was. She circled further, a trifle faster.
The thick, clear cream welling up from her vagina smeared around the head of Ray's cock every time Heather moved. She loved the sensation of her juice wetting both of them. The ridge around the edge of his cockhead was circling deeper, pressing against her inner labia, pressing them from side to side. The horny excitement that had made Heather so desperate faded, and a warm glow spread outward from the contact between his cockhead and the mouth of her pussy.
Ray began to stroke back and forth. He didn't move his prick much, just enough to spread more of the juicy fluids over his knob and ease his entry. Heather kept her motions working with and against him, alert to every change in the feelings in her pussy, and a new feeling surprised her. The in-out, back and forth pressure that pulled at her inner cuntlips began to drag the slippery little petals back and forth on the sides of her clitty.
Heather hadn't expected that. She knew that the little electric-feeling button gave her the sharpest, quickest come, but the novelty of having his prick doing it by remote control on her cunny amazed her. "Oh, yeah, Ray! I'm getting wetter, baby!" Heather said.
"Yes, baby, I know . . . I feel it," Ray said. His voice got louder as he repeated, "Yes, Heather, oh, yesss!"
"Don't stop, oh, don't ever stop," Heather said. "It feels so goddamn good, honey! We should have, we should have . . . OH!"
The head of Ray's prick slipped into Heather's vagina. She felt her pussy mouth stretch until she felt twice her normal size. The rubbery membrane that had stopped his fingers before tore, and Heather thought, I'm not a virgin now . . . Fragments of old wives' tales appeared in her mind, then floated away. The pain was no worse than biting her tongue. The hand-play that she and Ray had worked at so feverishly for so long had stretched her cherry until it was more than ready to give up the ghost. Heather held totally still for an instant when she realized her maidenhood was gone.
"G-g-gawd!" Ray stuttered, pausing in the slow stroking. "Ohh, Heather!"
Heather could only nod. The thick, strong warmth of his cock was only a little past the entrance, but the hollow feeling in her belly told Heather it would go deeper. She felt her whole lower body melt into a soupy pool of warm mud. The walls of her pussy seemed to merge with the head of his cock. Heather could barely tell where her body left off and Ray's began.
She knew soon . . . as soon as they began to move again. Heather put her arms around Ray's back, stroking his shirt, then tugging the cloth out of the way to touch his skin. The thick, virile mass swiveling deeper into her pussy made her whole body come alive. Even the shape and texture of Ray's back, the skin and the muscles were new. She caressed the long cords of flesh as they tightened and relaxed, and the touching made Heather want to engulf his whole body.
Not that she needed to. More and more of Ray's cock was sliding into her. Nerves Heather had never known about caressed the shape of his cockhead and the narrower neck of prick beneath it. She knew there were wiry little hairs at the base of his cock. Heather wondered when she would feel them. It already seemed like miles of prick had slipped into the simmering heat of her cuntal channel.
A feeling like the sensation Heather felt when Ray touched her pussy, or when she fingered herself, began to rise up inside her. She knew what would happen with fingers inside her, but Heather had no way to predict what would happen with that marvelous length of prick stretching her cuntal walls. Would she want more and more, like she always did with handwork, or would the fullness of Ray's cock satisfy her better? Heather thought of the lovely long rippling feelings that passed through her when she peaked. She started moving faster.
After something between a dozen and a million long, slow strokes of Ray's prick in her pussy, Heather felt the hairs at the base of his cock tickle at her cuntlips. She wondered if he could shoot off before all of his cock was inside. Heather didn't want to come until Ray's prick was buried to the hilt, but she wasn't sure about Ray. When his pubic bone finally touched the pad of flesh around her clit-ty, Heather was ready. The icy spark of feeling in her come-trigger was ready to go off. She slid her hands down from his back to his straining, swiveling buttocks and pulled him in.
"Oh, jee-zus!" Ray moaned. Heather threw her pussy up at his descending cock. He stiffened. She dug her nails into his ass. Heather hoped there were nerves inside her cunt to feel the bursts of his come. She worried.. . the vagueness around his cockhead had all but made her cunthole forget the shape of the knob. All she had was fullness and pressure inside, and a wide, blunt thing moving around and around in time to their sweating, panting movements. Heather whipped her loins in a swift, grinding circle, and Ray started to shoot.
"Unnhh!" Heather grunted, feeling the wide knob of his cock thud against her womb. There was something hard inside her, anchored in jello, and Heather knew that had to be it. She ground against him, pushing harder and harder. The feeling of his pubic bone mashing her cuntlips was heaven. The electric arc at the end of her clitty was burning into him, stealing thrills from his body and shooting them into hers. Heather felt tears start from her eyes. She wailed at the sheer beauty of her feelings and her knowledge that he was coming inside her. Her pussy started to contract around his cock.
Ray's fingers had shown her a shadow of the sensations her pussy could have. His cock showed her the real thing. The waves of soupy heat poured out from the center of her cunt. They flashed along her nerves, echoing back from her fingers and toes, even from the root of every hair on her head. Heather gasped for air, and her breath gusted in time to the crashing waves in her cunt.
The chilly flames ran up and down her spine. She stared up at the sky, her eyes wide, but didn't see a thing. The hard, shoving thrusts of Ray's cock increased the bursts of orgasm rushing through her. Heather felt Ray slow down, then stop, but her come went on. It seemed like hours before she could smile into Ray's face through her tears.
Heather felt warm and gooey all over . . . not sweaty, though she was soaked, but comfortable, like lying in front of a cozy fire.
Ray looked worried. Heather tried to ask what was wrong, but obviously, she thought, nothing really could be. She hugged him tight, then let her arms fall. The grass under her felt wonderful. Heather nodded, and Ray let his head ease down onto her breasts.
"All that time," Heather began, stroking the side of Ray's face. "When I think . . . "
Ray nodded. He lifted his head, then stopped. "Uh . . . "
Heather craned around to look. There at the edge of the clearing, not fifty yards away, was a cop, and he was walking toward them.
CHAPTER TWO
Heather felt Ray's weight lift from her chest. A horrible, heartbreaking suction started at the pit of her stomach. The overloaded nerves at the rim of her cunt mouth protested, shooting agonizing chills up her spine. With a pop like a shoe in mud, the head of his cock sloshed out of her vagina. Ray rolled to the side, grabbing her arm. Heather sat up and reached for her panties.
Heather had one foot into the flimsy scrap when Ray jerked her upright. He yanked his jeans up. "No time," he snapped. "Run!" He tugged her wrist until Heather had to let go of her panties. Stumbling behind him, she kicked out of the torn scrap, fighting to keep one foot in front of the other.
"STOP!" the policeman shouted. The sound jolted Heather into action. She charged down the hill without looking back. The grassy slope was steep enough that each bounding step jarred from her heels to her head. It was like flying, half-falling down toward the shrubbery that ringed the lower edge of the clearing. Heather matched Ray's huge, kangaroo-like steps. In another two heartbeats, they were at the edge of the bushes, then crashing through them. The slippery dead leaves kept Heather and Ray from stopping, or even changing direction. Heather was sure she would fall.
Like a window shade jerked up, the trees ended and Heather leapt halfway across a narrow road. The other side was grass again. Her knees still bent from the shock of the jump, Heather cleared the cobblestone gutter and stopped next to Ray in the picnic area.
"What'll we do?" Heather asked. She gasped for air. The sticky warmth of Ray's semen had jounced and spattered clear to her calves as they ran.
"We gotta get outa here," Ray panted. "He'll call for help." Ray dug into his shirt pocket. He came up with a square of cellophane. He ripped it open and tossed two capsules into his mouth.
"What are you doing?" Heather squeaked. "What are those?"
"Reds.. . I didn't think you wanted any," Ray tossed the cellophane away and worked to gulp the pills down.
"Why did you take those? You know I don't like pill heads," Heather protested.
"Hey, shit, honey, I can't get caught with them! There's gonna be cops all over the park in a couple minutes."
"Why didn't you throw them away?" Heather looked back up the hill. She began to feel worried. On top of the cop seeing her making love with Ray, she had to keep an eye on him while he got high.
"I don't wanna waste 'em," Ray said, reaching for her hand. "Come on, Heather. We gotta find someplace to hide."
"I can walk by myself," Heather snapped. She jerked her hand away and glared at him. What if they do catch us? she worried. Mom and Dad would fall apart, really flip. God hums we can't leave the car here.. . how would Ray explain it to his folks?
This is just rotten, Heather decided. I was just starting to feel really nice after that long, lovely come. Now.. .
Well, if we can get out of the park, maybe we can go someplace and be alone until.. . I wouldn't mind some more of that. Her expression softened. She gave Ray a quick little kiss on the mouth.
"That's better," Ray said. He put his arms around her and stole the back of her skirt up past the bottom of her asscheeks.
Heather slapped his hand away. "Stop it! We have to go get your car. He saw us run this way," Heather said.
"Aww, just another little kiss," Ray said, pooching his lips out. "That cop's not gonna chase us . . . not 'til some help comes."
Heather turned her back on him. "No! Get serious, Ray! I'm a juvenile, remember? If he catches us, my folks will find out, and you're old enough to get busted for it." She looked down at the ground when she spoke, realizing how bad it actually could be if her parents found out. They wouldn't ever trust me again. Heather thought, feeling an empty pain in her chest.
"Aw, awright," Ray said, a sneer in his voice. He sounded annoyed, trying to cover by being a smart ass. He put his arm across Heather's shoulder. "You got a suggestion, or should we wait here until they take me away?"
Heather looked back again, then started walking toward the edge of the park. "I think we should just stroll around real casual, until we can get to your car from the other side," she said. "If the cop's gone, we can.. . " She looked at Ray with a seductive little smile. "If the cops are still around, we can wait until they leave."
Ray sighed. "Okay." He wasn't impressed, but Heather wanted to do it her way.
Heather ignored his know-it-all tone. After the sex they'd just shared she felt unwound and tolerant. Even the mad downhill race away from the policeman hadn't quite dimmed the glow that still filled her.
The climb up the back side of the hill took the glow away completely. Heather grew more irritated as Ray hung back. Every time she urged him forward, he would either stop or mutter curses under his breath. His eyes were starting to lose focus. She had the feeling that he was hanging back just far enough to look up her skirt. Well, dammit, it's not easy to be modest when you climb a hill, she thought. Besides, the way he's getting, I don't think he'll remember much. "Oww!" she shouted. "What did you do that for?" Heather spun around and put both hands over her ass to protect herself from the dead branch he'd poked her with.
"I don't wanna climb this fuckin' bullshit mountain," Ray said. "Let's rest down at the bottom."
"No, Ray! We can't just sit here all day! We'll get caught for sure," Heather explained. "Come on, baby." She turned around again and hurried out of range of Ray's stick.
She stood behind a screen of leaves and watched two police cars leave the parking lot. She tired to catch her breath from that last spurt, and Ray came up behind her.
"Sheeit, Heather! There ain't no cop there." Ray walked out into the open. "Din't haveta climb that fuckin' hill!" He stumbled down toward the parking lot.
"Ray!" Heather wailed. "They just left!" Ray waved his hand disgustedly without looking back. "There's two of them, Ray.. . they might be coming back!" She wavered for a few seconds, then started after him. Why is he so hostile? Did I make a mistake by . . . by . . . making love with him?
Even though Heather's doubts about Ray were coming to a head since he'd taken the pills, she didn't want him to drive away in his condition. He walked like a loosely-strung puppet, and his head wobbled. She trotted until she caught up to him. "What are you going to do?" Heather asked.
"I wanna get another beer." Ray headed straight for the car, stumbling on the curbing at the edge of the parking lot. "Fuckin' stupid sneakin' aroun'. Jeez, you think I'm some kinda creep? That bullshit's a pain inna ass, Heather." He looked through the car window, then did a double-take. Ray yanked the door open.
"Those rotten fuckers! Mother fuckin' pig assholes! They stole my goddamn beer, Heather! I'm fuckin' thirsty, too!" He turned to scowl at Heather. "Now I gotta buy some more."
"Ray, please-" Heather began.
"Fuck please! Fuck you, too! I shoulda stayed here and guarded it!" Ray jumped into the driver's seat and started the motor. "Well, you comin'? "
Heather hesitated. She didn't want to ride with him, but she didn't want Ray to take off alone, either. "Uhh, I.. . " She stepped up and pushed at his thigh. "I'll drive."
Ray slid over. " 'Kay. There's a store over that way." He pointed vaguely into the distance.
I don't want him to get any higher than he is already, Heather decided. She took the wrong turn on purpose and cruised slowly alongside the golf course. Ray didn't seem to notice.
"Look! Lookit that old fuck," Ray said. He pointed at a golfer addressing his ball. Just as the club head came down, he hit the horn. The old man jerked and the golf ball shot off at right angles to the fairway.
The golfer turned and shook his fist at the car.
"Y'see? Y'see that? I got 'im, I really got his ass," Ray chortled. He straightened halfway from his slouched posture and looked through the wind shield. "Hey, where we goin'? "
Heather didn't answer. "The store's that way.. . back that way," Ray protested. He grabbed the steering wheel.
Heather screamed, "Stop! What are you doing?" The tall blond wrestled with the car and with Ray. She jammed her foot onto the brake. Ray bounced off the dash, still holding the wheel rim. The car went sideways on the gravel of the shoulder, slewed around, and stopped. Heather turned off the key and sat, shaking and pale, for an instant.
"What the hell did you do that for?" she asked quietly. Her full lips were compressed in a tight line. "You could have killed us." She ran her eyes up and down his torso, from his still-open fly to the hand he held against his forehead. "I hate those god damned pills," she said, slowly and distinctly, then, with all the force she could muster, slapped Ray across the face.
He put his other hand to the cheek she'd struck. "You hit me," he said, incredulous. "You fuckin' hit me!" Ray sat for a full three seconds while it soaked in, then he leapt at her, clawing for her face.
Heather screamed. Her elbow hit the door handle and she tumbled out onto the pavement, her skirt flying up past her waist.
Ray wasn't interested in her ass or in the still-wet tangle of her cunt-hair. He scrambled half out of the car as she crabbed backward into the middle of the road. He stopped as she stood up, ready to run. "Fuck you, the," he said. Ray slammed the car door.
Heather stood in middle of the twisty road, shaking. He elbow was scraped, and the gray-brown dust of the road had blotched the back of her blouse. She watched him, ready to run away.
Ray started the motor again. "Drag your ass home any fuckin' way you want, you cunt!" he said, and threw the car into gear. It didn't move.
"Aww, shit! Motherfuckin' cocksuckin' dogshit!" Ray growled.
Heather wanted to giggle, in spite of the pain of her elbow. One of the back wheels was hanging off the road, spinning uselessly over the ditch. She stifled the laugh, thinking, It serves him right if it never runs again! She moved further away as Ray got out.
"That's right, you bitch! You keep your twat away from me," Ray snarled. "This is all your goddamn fault." He looked at the back of the car and spat. He weaved up to the trunk lid and began shoving at the car, trying to push it back onto the road.
Heather saw the police car first. She knew it wasn't the same cop who'd spotted them screwing earlier . . . this one had a newer car. Ray huffed and puffed, his feet skidding on the gravel of the shoulder. The tendons in his neck stood out and his face purpled with the exertion. Red freaks seldom know when to give up.
The officer stopped and Ray looked up. Even from twenty feet away, Heather could see that Ray was madder than ever. The policeman opened the car door and Ray started toward him, moving slow and easy.
"Need a little help?" the cop asked. He wasn't more than twenty-five and seemed friendlier than the average local heat. He smiled as he slid his nightstick into the ring on his belt. The cop moved around the left-front corner of his unit, and Ray jumped at him.
Heather watched, paralyzed. She didn't want to believe it. Ray hit the cop so hard and so fast that the officer was down on the roadway before he could react at all.
"Mother fucker! Where's my goddamn beer?" Ray shouted, bashing at the cop's face with both fists. "Fuckin' pig thief! I'll kill your ass!"
The cop tried to wrestle back on top, but Ray was thrashing like a windmill. Ray was obviously smashed to incoherence, with every other blow of his fists going wild. He beat the push bars on the front of the car, the fender, the pavement, and once in a while, the cop. Ray growled and snarled like a wild beast.
The cop tried to struggle out from under Ray, but the dopy fury of his attacker kept him down. Heather watched, horrified, for what seemed like minutes on end. She wanted to pull Ray off, but the way he was thrashing, she knew she couldn't.
Ray stopped shouting. He grunted, slugging away slower. The cop managed to squirm half-under the car. "Fucker! Come outa there! Come on, pig! PIG!" Ray screamed.
Heather finally broke the spell. She ran to Ray's car and honked the horn. "Help! Please, somebody, HELP!" she shouted.
Heads turned on the golf course. A foursome stopped, then ran to a pass gate. One of them still carried his bag. Even when they arrived, Ray was still grunting, trying to pull the dazed policeman out from under the car. The first golfer tried to pull Ray off the officer, but got backhanded in the belly. The second man leaped onto Ray's back. Ray rolled and bucked, tossing him against the grille. Ray gasped and struggled with the third, kicking and gouging like a tag-team wrestler. He knocked the golfer down, then tried to rip the billy club off the policeman's belt. Heather closed her eyes, not daring to look any more.
The officer kicked at Ray's feet. Ray stood with his back to the car, waving the billy club. "Come on, assholes! I'll kill all you fuckers," he warned. Heather peeked, and saw the men take clubs out of the bag, then circle Ray. She wanted to throw up, torn between fear for Ray and disgust at his stoned-out hostility. That's not even the one, she thought. He didn't do anything to Ray!
Ray roared and charged one of the foursome. In a flurry of golf clubs and ripping sport shirts, a knot of people tangled onto the pavement. Heather passed out.
Tall, pretty, golden-haired Heather thought the topsy-turvy troubles started that day. For a while, she debated with herself . . . was it when she'd started begging for Ray to take her, or was the first cop's appearance what triggered it? If I just hadn't let him take those pills, she chastised.
No, that's really not fair. . . I could have quit going with him when he started acting so. . .cross and distant and . . . and . . . different.
I mean, that was the first time.. . my very first time. Nothing bad happened when I started touching myself. Mom and Dad never gave me any of that stuff the girls at school keep talking about.. . saving myself for marriage, and all that. Of course, I never let them know about those feelings in my pussy. I wonder if they knew? Heather thought back to the day, three years before, when she overheard something between two older students and felt the slippery, warm, oozing sensation between her legs. It was only lunchtime, but she kept wondering about it until she got home from school. Heather wanted to investigate, but some forbidding tickle at the back of her mind told her not to simply strip and start worrying at her body. She decided to take a shower.
At thirteen, Heather's breasts were thirty-five inches, measured across the tips of her pink nipples. She wore a C-cup bra, instead of the D she had when she made love with Ray. Her hips were the same thirty-five inches, but she was only five-seven, instead of her full height of sixty-nine inches. Since she'd been growing up along with her body for thirteen years, she didn't think anything was that unusual or intriguing about it . . . Heather didn't understand why groups of boys would whisper, then fall silent when she came by. She went into the bathroom and tried to see why the boys were so interested in her willowy body. The mirror didn't tell her a lot.. . Heather was still too naive.
Her hands and feet were long and slender, like the rest of her. They seemed quite normal to Heather. It was early in spring, and the last traces of her tan barely showed against the triangular bikini patches on each breast. The pale line of untanned skin below her navel started just two inches above her pussy-hairs, but Heather had to focus to really see it. By the end of summer she could be as dark as a sun-tan billboard, but now her belly and shoulders were just a little darker than her creamy hidden skin.
Heather's pussy-hairs had been growing in and darkening for two years, but the little nest didn't conceal much of her pussy. The outside of her labia showed at the edge of the vertical strip of dark blonde, and the crease between peeked shyly out at the mirror. Heather looked at the taper of her legs, the way her long calves and thighs flowed up to the vase-like curve of her hips, and didn't see anything exceptional.
Her eyes traveled up past her slim waist to her breasts. The pink-tipped swell of her titties didn't hang down even a fraction of an inch. She could see the little reverse-curve at the bottom of each titty and the narrow valley that rose between them. Just at the edge of the tan-line, the mounds formed a soft, curved "W". She started the shower, letting the water warm while she tried to survey her body.
The mirror began to steam up. Heather opened the window. She turned in profile to the mirror, watching her nipples stand up like thick pencil erasers, pink and rubbery. She thought it was just the chilly breeze through the window, the cool air that raised goose bumps on her arms. She touched the end of one nipple with her fingertip, and the paler pink circle around it crinkled up, forcing the tip forward another half-inch. The aureole looked almost like a tiny Aztec calendar, a stone wheel with a chiseled maze of lines around the center. She shivered and jumped into the shower.
Heather closed the frosted-glass door. Through the steam and the wavy door, she could see a rippling shadow of herself moving in the mirror. Her long blonde hair swung back and forth when she tossed her head. She bent over to adjust the temperature. Her breasts hung down in perfect cones. She always tried to keep her hair and face out of the spray, keeping her makeup safe. First hot, then chilly water showered over her titties as she fiddled with the knobs. When the temperature was right, she pulled her hair up with both hands and turned in a slow circle, wetting every inch of her skin. With her elbows as high as the top of her head, the water blasted against her shoulders, her back, and her armpits, leaving shiny droplets everywhere.
When she was thoroughly wet, Heather backed away from the showerhead. Even though Heather had decided to explore her body to find the sources of those odd, tingly feelings, she reached for the soap from habit. She squinted and held the soap in front of her, getting the bar good and slippery. Her elbows were tight against her breasts, pressing the inner curves together into deep cleavage. She twisted her shoulders from side to side. The slithering of her titties felt nice. Heather opened her eyes and watched.
Her nipples were almost touching her forearms. The titty-tips turned deeper pink when she let the shower spray caress them. Heather knew she was warm enough now, naked in the steamy flow of the shower. It wasn't the chill that made the tips stand out. She touched the very end of one with a fingertip.
Heather drew in her breath. The sensation of touching the sensitive, erect marble sent a shiver through her. She circled around the point, slithering her finger along the sides of the spike and the crinkled maze of her aureole. The trembling sensation made her muscles tighten.
Heather liked that. She took the bar of soap and rubbed it over the end of her titty, around and around until little white bubbles of lather filled the creases in the corona.
The sensation wasn't as sharp as touching the point itself, but a strange chill fluttered at the base of her pussy. Heather all but ignored the sensation between her thighs. The strange, sensuous throb starting in her nipple held her attention. She could feel every ridge and swirl in her fingertip when she slithered it around on her soaped nipple. Even the sides of the tip and the aureole were alert to the tiny roughness of her fingertip and the skidding of the soap. She soaped the palm of her hand and covered the whole pink circle of her nipple. Heather dropped the soap.
The sensation in her hand, in her nipple, and the growing heaviness in her titty added up, echoing stronger and stronger off each other. It felt like a knife searching out every alive nerve in her breast. It was so exotically sensuous that it almost hurt, but the near-pain made her want to go on. Heather gave that nipple a brief rest and started on the other.
It reacted the same way, but faster. The free nipple had been shrinking back down, but it sprang to attention when Heather soaped it. She held the soap in both hands, hugging her elbows against her ribs. She shivered with the pounding throbs that made her titties feel so heavy and needful. Each large, firm breast felt dull and full, like they wanted to tell Heather to titillate the tips again. She bit her lips and rinsed her bosom, then re-soaped her hands.
For the first time, Heather noticed the difference between just washing herself and paying attention to every sensation. Before, the luscious blonde had dashed into the shower, soaped, rinsed, and dried off. This time, she handled her titties, caressing all over them with slippery, sweet-scented soap. Even her cleavage and the little double-dipping curves beneath the delectable mounds got lots of luxurious treatment. When Heather had spread the lather over each breast, she kept sliding her hands around and around. When the throb built up to an ache, Heather pushed her titties together tight and rolled her palms on the outer curves. Avoiding the sharp tingling thrill of her nipples for a moment, she spread her fingers wide and let the dark-pink tips jut out between them.
Since her breasts seldom met in the middle, it was an odd feeling for Heather. She pressed on the out-sides, feeling the soft, feminine slipperiness of her cleavage sliding up and down. Her skin was so soft, so sensitive, that Heather began to moan. With the pressure of her fingertips growing on her aureoles, Heather felt every nerve in her bosom clamoring with pleasure. She curled her fingertips in, pressing more sensuous feeling into the ends of her titties, and the nerves stood up and saluted. Her nipples poked an inch past her fingers. Precious tension built up inside the points as the skin stretched. "Oh, my god!" Heather whispered.
Heather was breathing hard when she finally let go of her titties. All the rising heat of the good-good feelings made her feel guilty. Anything this nice must be wrong, she thought. She bent over to pick up the soap again.
The problem with distracting herself with cleanliness was the new alertness of her nerves. Heather had attended to the sensation of slippery hands and the cool smoothness of the soap on her skin, and it was hard to stop. She lathered her arms and wrists, and the throbbing warmth in her titties slowed down. Even her wrists and shoulders felt more alive than they had before she started investigating her body, but it could have been just the slow, careful motions of her hands.
There was still a lot of rich, soapy lather on her bosom, so Heather slid her hands down her ribs and started soaping her belly. The little muscles in her crotch contracted as her hands went lower. The smooth, curvy shape of her belly and the little cup of her navel accepted the soap. The chilly, half-scary feeling started in her crotch again. Heather knew that the mouth of her pussy-hole was tightening up, but the stiff, itchy point of sensation above it worried her. She decided not to lather around her cunny just yet.. . no telling what might happen. Heather didn't want to feel guilty about touching and rubbing herself quite so soon.
Even with the swirling steam that clouded the bathroom, Heather's bottom was getting dry again. She turned her back to the showerhead and soaped the front of each thigh, then bent to wash her feet and calves. The spray between her legs rinsed the soap off almost as soon as she rubbed it on, so Heather didn't linger there long.
With the main blast of the shower aimed right at the rounded cheeks of her ass, she couldn't linger. The splashing warmth heated her skin, making it blush like her breasts had when she slathered soap around on them. It wasn't the rising temperature that made her hold her breath and move her hips in a slow circle, though. The spray of warm water tickling at her rectum and the little pads of labia around her cunt mouth stared another tingle, even stronger than the one from her titties. It was a shivery chill, and Heather had to stand straight again to get away from it.
Heather shook all over. Being so alert to all the reservoirs of sensuality in her body was a little scary for a thirteen-year-old girl. So many things were happening on and under her skin that Heather had trouble sorting them out. Bending over had made her bosom feel heavier and hungrier for more touching. At the same time, the spray spitting along her crack made her pussy vibrate. Even when she turned around to rinse the soap off, Heather felt strange. The shower felt like tiny fingers tapping and caressing all over her skin. Her throat, her nipples, her thighs, and the puffy little strips of her labia all seemed to reach for the warm, wet touch of the water.
Heather had to catch her breath again. She stepped to the back of the tub. The water beat on the porcelain, a little spray overlapping to her feet and ankles. She had the soap in her hand. Heather began to spread a little of the slippery lather over her buttocks. She tried to calm herself and put her thoughts in order. Am I supposed to be thinking and feeling everything that happens to me like this? Isn't there . . . Hasn't somebody told me about it? The half-forgotten prohibition troubled Heather, but she couldn't quite get hold of it. She put the soap back in the dish and turned around to rinse her bottom.
Even with the enticing memory of the spray playing over her crotch, Heather wasn't going to let herself bend over. It just wasn't right.. . whatever the forgotten rule was. She took the soap again. The final lathering couldn't be stalled any longer. If she waited any more, the hot water would all be gone and Heather wouldn't have washed her pussy. She looked up at the ceiling and rubbed the bar of soap across her love mound. The shower spray rinsed it off almost as soon as she smeared it on. Heather moved back.
She rubbed the bar up and down her pussylips. Heather had foaming bubbles caught in her pussy-hairs. She crooked her knees and squatted a little, spreading foam clear to her rectum. She rubbed the area with both hands, then put the soap back in the tray.
She kept looking at the ceiling. Heather didn't dare look at her pussy or even the dark-blonde hair over it. She felt her nipples rising again. Heather refused to look. Even a glance might make her guilty resolve melt away. There was already plenty of conflict whirling around in her head about the pleasure she felt when the slippery soap smeared tingles into her nerves. She thought about moving into the spray again, but her fingers lingered, twining in and out of the soft curls of her cuntal thatch.
Heather closed her eyes, trying to sort out the sensations rippling along her nerves. The central stripe of her pussy-crevice was warm, and it was slipperier than just the soap could have made it. She rubbed two fingers through the tiny grooves at the outside of her labia. The thick warmth didn't melt away in the water, as soap would have. She moved forward until the water beat against her cuntal hair, but the slick fluid stayed there. She cupped the area with her right hand, and the warm, oozy coating spread a little.
Heather began to get trembling. Her knees were turning watery. She took her hands away from her pussy for a minute, framing her dark-blonde pussy hair with her fingers and thumbs. Wondering if this was wrong, Heather rolled her hips forward. Without even thinking, she opened her pussylips.
The slick, slippery little crease between her inner petals vibrated like a little motor. Her jaw dropped open and the sharp pinpricks of water beat more sensuous feeling into her skin. Heather had to sit down.
Heather turned the shower head to the wall. Cooler spray bounded off the title and chilled her skin. Heather didn't care. Her nipples got hard as pebbles under the cooling spray, and every drop made them quiver like a tiny whip-flick. Oh, that feels lovely, Heather thought. I didn't know.. . Oh, my titties!
Oh, MY! My, my pussy! Heather put her fingers next to her cunt mouth again. She was even wetter than before. The oily fluid coated the whole zone, even before she smeared it around the tops of her thighs. Heather spread her knees until they pressed against the sides of the tub.
She was still afraid to look. She rested the back of her head on the edge of the tub. The steam was so thick that she couldn't see where the ceiling was. She pressed her upper arms against the sides of her titties, forcing her cleavage tighter and deeper. The throbbing pressure in her nipples made Heather want to mash her nipples into her tits and roll them around, but her hands were too busy in her pussy.
Heather pressed her fingertips into the little grooves along the edges of her cuntlips. She dug at the taut tendons at the insides of her thighs. Heather moved her fingers back and forth, relishing the soft sliding of her inner pussylips against each other. The cream inside made the little folds feel as soft and delicate as some exotic flower. Heather closed her eyes. She began to moan to herself, "Oh, yes, oh, my god! Yes! Yes!" She pressed her forefingers against the puffy little strips of her inner labia. Even the sensuous little crease between the tiny petals slid back and forth, heating her pussy to a glow. Heather felt every slippery, sliding cell along the center of her pussy soaking up thrills and flashing them along her nerves.
There was another focus of growing feeling just below her thumbs. It became stronger as Heather worked her hands along the base of her cunny. She didn't dare look at the incredible hot-feeling center of her pussy . . . if her cuntlips weren't as deep red as they felt, it would be a heartbreaking disappointment. The little bead of heat at the top of the central crease felt like it was glowing white-hot. If Heather had looked and seen the tip wasn't on fire, she would ache with frustration.
But Heather didn't need to look. She began working her thumbs, sliding them up and down through the nest of hair above the blazing stub. Her pussy-hairs tangled around her thumbs and tugged at the sensitive skin of her labia, but even that made the heat in her loins rise. The whole vee-shaped mound of her cunny was moving under her hands now, squeezing up and down, pouting outward and opening again with the kneading motions of her fingers and thumbs. Heather knew it was the start of something, the key to the hungry throbbing that filled her belly. It was far different that a hunger for food.. . a hollow, thumping need that sucked at her whole body.
Heather twisted around in the bottom of the tub, forgetting about her hair, her makeup, everything but the insistent urge in her pussy. She put the tips of her middle fingers right at the mouth of her cunthole and smeared the oozing juice around. She felt the little slit-like oval of her pussy mouth, ran her fingers up and down it again and again, then stretched it wider. It pulled back at her, then relaxed, opened and relaxed again, in time with the squirming motions of her asscheeks on the floor of the tub. Whispering prayers of hunger, Heather pressed one fingertip into her little slot.
Her pussy kissed at her fingertip. Heather was amazed. The tiny opening moved back and forth, sucking like a toothless mouth. The drooling cunt cream that she'd smeared around her pussy slithered down her finger. She probed deeper, wiggling her fingertip until it was in to the first joint
Now the hollow hunger had something to please it . . . not enough, but something. Heather tried to slip another fingertip in, but the clasping slippery ring of her pussy mouth wouldn't quite let it fit. She mewed as her breath caught. The sound was close to a sob, a sob of desperation.
Heather made noises constantly now. She found the most sensitive nerves inside her pussy and cooed. When her fingernail scraped at the tender flesh, she squeaked.
The fingers that wouldn't fit into her cunthole moved away. Heather pushed her finger further, trying to find the center of that pounding pit of emptiness inside her. Her other hand went to her titties automatically.
The pussy cream coating her fingers made her nipples shivery. It was even more sensuous than the soap had been. The thick, slow-spreading fluid coated and warmed her nipples like a magic potion. Heather stretched her long fingers wide and captured the ends of both tits. She kneaded at them.
Her nipples flashed signals to her brain, then heated red-hot nerves that ran straight to her clitty. She pressed the heel of her hand tight against the top of her love mound.
The little button of heat under her palm shot out sparks. The hot jolts of feeling flashed all through her loins. Her cunthole squeezed tighter on her finger. The emptiness inside her belly still howled for more than the fingertip Heather had shoved into her hole, but the sharp heat bursting outward from her clitty made up for it. The charge building up in her clitty would wipe out the hunger when it crested. Heather didn't know how she knew that, but the idea rose in her mind like the heat rose in her body.
Heather's heart pounded. She slid down in the tub until her ass was against her heels. She lay on her back, her whole body writhing in time to the cascading sensations in her cunt. Her fair, naked skin was spattered all over with droplets of water, and lines of soap still trailed from her cunt. Heather was astounded by the sheer power of the feelings building up in her body.. . she'd never felt anything nearly so strong or so heavenly.
There was something starting to happen. The excitement was still building, but changed. Every push against her clitty and every squeezing caress of her nipples brought her closer to whatever that strange, changed feeling was. Her tits didn't ache any more . . . they demanded that Heather twist and mash and knead them until the peak hit.
Heather's eyes had opened. She stared up into the swirls of steam. The gray-white fog reached almost to the edge of the tub. Her mouth was wide open. Heather gasped for air to fuel the reaction in her cunt. She was crying, desperate for the change to come. Every groan and twist and plunge of her fingertip into her hole was a plea to push herself further. With a huge, grinding push of her palm, Heather flattened her cuntlips into a thin pad of heat. A lightning bolt blasted from her clitty to her brain. Every muscle in her body tensed, then slacked. Heather shoved a second finger into her cunthole.
Heather begged with her herself. She worked both fingers back and forth, wrestling them against each other and against the creamy walls of her cunt. Her hand was drowning in juice. The folds of her cuntwalls sucked at her fingers, then moved out of the way as she twisted and squirmed. Heather's cunt wrapped around her fingers like living jelly. Everything except the fiery tips of her nipples was right at the center of her cunt. Heather sucked a huge breath of air and held it.
It hit like an earthquake. Heather's cunt clamped down. She couldn't move her fingers. Her hips bucked up, levering off the bottom of the tub. She ground all the soft heat around her clitty against her pubic bone. Her other hand dug into her tits.
Heather fell back down to the floor of the tub. Air gusted out. All the tension that had been building up in her cunny flew away. The first contraction slacked, letting sheets of frozen flame blaze through all her nerves. Every cell in Heather's body became a pinpoint of star-white light.
The next pulse hit. Heather marveled at the grip of her cunt muscle. The squeeze twisted her fingers. Ripples moved up her cuntwalls, flowing from the mouth to that vague center deep inside. Her hand tightened on her tits again. She lay back, letting the spray bounce over her skin, rising and falling with the repeated peaks of her come. Heather had never had anything so heartbreakingly lovely, so incredibly sensuous, as the long rippling waves of her first orgasm.
Heather laughed between pulses. It was all familiar, as if she'd just forgotten for a minute what would happen. I should have known, she thought. Heather let her hand fall away from her titties. She rolled from side to side with each fresh contraction. The groans and gasps were gone. Her fingers moved automatically as her cunt sucked at them, and Heather lay back to enjoy.
CHAPTER THREE
Heather wasn't thinking much about masturbating when she was at the police station, though. She was worrying about what would happen when her mother and father got there. After going through the examination, she had nothing to do except sit in a chair and wait. Her eyes kept going back to the plastic bag that held her torn panties . . . the evidence bag.
Uniformed and plainclothes cops wandered in and out, talking in low tones. Nobody would tell her where Ray was. Heather thought they were talking about a crime wave when she overheard the whispers. "Rape . . . kidnapping . . . assault . . . " When the cop who'd first seen Ray and Heather together looked over at her, Heather put it all into place. Her stomach sank down to her shoes.
They're talking about Ray! It wasn't rape! Oh, no! What are they going to do to him.. . to ME? She put her head in her hands. Heather felt trapped, and the feeling didn't get better when her parents arrived.
Mrs. Layton gushed over Heather while Mr. Layton confronted the cop. Heather couldn't respond to her mother's concern, not while she overheard her father asking about the evidence. The doctor had found a little bit of torn tissue from her cherry, and everyone was convinced that Ray had raped her, then forced her to go with him when the first policeman showed up.
Mrs. Layton gave up when Heather didn't respond. She asked the officer more questions, the same ones she could have had answers to if she'd listened at first. Heather sat still and worried as they discussed her. The officer made it sound she wasn't even nearby, much less right next to him.
After Mr. and Mrs. Layton had the whole police side of the story, the cop very carefully explained it all to Heather . . . the witness and victim. He brought out a prepared statement of complaint and asked her to sign it.
Heather looked at him, then at her parents. She was scared, at least as scared as she'd been when Ray was fighting with the other cop. "Well?" the policeman asked.
"I-I can't sign that," Heather said. Her eyes stung. What should I do? I can't say Ray raped me . . . it's not true! "Uh . . . I wasn't kidnapped."
"Now, Heather," the policeman said, "you don't have to worry about anything. He's in jail . . . he can't hurt you. Now, please sign the complaint. We saw him drag you away." He pointed at the torn panties lying on the desk. "And the . . . evidence shows . . . "
"No! I can't." Heather looked from her mother to her father to the officer. "I.. . I asked him to . . . make love with me." Heather looked down at her hands. Her knuckles were white.
Heather's father turned pale, then red. He looked away from the cop. "I don't believe you, Heather."
The policeman scooted his chair closer to Heather. "Now, Miss Layton, you don't have to protect him. You probably won't even have to go to his trial . . . we have other charges on him, but to protect yourself and other young ladies, we wish you would think about signing the complaint. It's.. . we a method of making sure he doesn't get off with a light sentence."
Heather's mother started to cry. Mr. Layton put his arm on her shoulder, but she shook it off. Her father said, "Heather, please! You're not disgraced . . . we still love you, no matter what he did to you."
"Daddy, he didn't do anything that I didn't like . . . before the cop came, anyway," Heather tried to explain. "I don't see why I have to lie about it.. . Ray wouldn't ever rape me!"
The officer asked Mr. Layton to come with him. Heather heard fragments of the conversation. She thought, What's wrong with them? How do they expect to get a conviction if they won't listen to their witnesses?
Mrs. Layton was apparently listening, too. She walked to where her husband and the policeman were talking, then came back to Heather. "Honey . . . " she began, very tentative, "I.. . I really think you should do what the officer asks . . . " Mrs. Layton sniffled some more. "Please, Heather, please sign the complaint. I know you've been going steady with Ray, but you have to think about other people, too. What if he gets out and attacks another girl? She . . . Ray might.. . Oh, Heather!" she sobbed.
"Your mother is very concerned," Mr. Layton said. "You should help the police to see that this.. . crime doesn't happen to someone else. There are so many repeaters among rapists . . . "
"I wasn't raped! Dammit, Daddy, are you listening to me? I WASN'T RAPED!" Heather shouted. Every head in the room turned.
Mr. Layton still didn't want to believe his ears. "What?"
Mrs. Layton was convinced Heather was covering up for Ray. "Now, darling, it won't help anyone for you to . . . "
"NO, NO, NO!" Heather screamed. All motion in the room stopped. "I wasn't raped or kidnapped. I wanted to do it. Ray didn't have to rape me. I asked him, Momma . . . I almost had to beg!"
Mr. Layton blustered. "Now, this is impossible. I know my daughter, and she's just trying to protect her boyfriend through some strange notion of loyalty." He turned from the officer to Heather. "Baby, you're making a mistake. You don't owe that boy anything, not anything at all. He committed a horrible crime. If I'd seen him, I'd have killed him! Heather-it's just.. . incredible that you would try to protect him!! "
"I'm not signing that complaint, and that's all there is to it," Heather said. She crossed her arms over her chest and sat immobile, shaking with rage.
Heather was afraid to look at her parents. She stared at the wall and waited until Mr. and Mrs. Layton were ready to go. Heather ignored her mother's attempts to talk to her just as she ignored the three-way conference between her parents and the policeman.
Heather was still protesting when the Laytons' car pulled up in front of the hospital. "The police already checked me. I'm okay," she said.
"Now, dear, it's all right. We just want to make sure," Mrs. Layton said. "It won't take long." She helped Heather out of the car while Mr. Layton jiggled his keys in one hand.
The hospital was just as Heather had expected, at least until the examination was over. She thought she would hop onto the table, let the doctor fool around with her pussy, then wait for a prescription and go home. She was wrong.
Of course, Heather didn't know how wrong she was until she was walking down a long hallway with her mother and father. A young man, inches shorter than Heather, popped out of a doorway. His nametag said he was Dr. Pickett. He offered Heather his hand, and she shook it-with misgivings. "Hello, Heather," he said. "I think you'll like it here." His smile was charming, but Heather panicked.
"What? I'm leaving, aren't I?" She looked at her father.
Mr. Layton stood stony-faced. "We're, ahh, checking you in for observation," he said. "Doctor Pickett will be in charge of your case." He looked away.
"Why don't you wait in my office?" Dr. Pickett said. "I'll take Heather in so she can get acquainted." He offered her his arm.
Heather shook her head, and the doctor shrugged. She followed him to the bend in the corridor, and saw the sign . . . "Mental Health Unit." Heather collapsed inside. She didn't hear anything around her, not even the names of the nurses or the other patients. She waited in a chair in the main room, wondering what had hit her. "But.. . I supposed to go to the prom next week," she said to no one. "I can't stay in here."
But Heather wasn't going.. . her date was in jail. When she realized that, she let herself be led to a room. She sat on the bed without moving until dinner, then sat at the table. Heather was as calm and blank as a clean blackboard externally. Inside, she was like a rabbit who knows the wolf is sniffing nearer, frozen with fear, hoping to melt into the background.
After dinner, when the aides came around with doses of medicine for everyone, Heather pursed her lips tight. It was almost the first motion she'd made since Dr. Pickett had steered her past the ward office. Every other patient got pills or colored liquid to drink. Heather sat, stiff as a board, her lips locked tight, and they passed her by. I won't take their pills . . .I won't she told herself over and over. I don't belong here.
The aides checked names off a list, then helped a few people away from the table. No one mentioned the full plate sitting in front of Heather. She sat while the other patients moved slowly off to play games or read or build birdhouses from popsicle sticks, and no one paid any attention at all.
What's this? Am I invisible? Shouldn't Doctor Pickett or someone talk to me? Heather let her stiff spine ease a fraction. She looked around, peeking from the corners of her eyes. Very casually, as numbly as the other tranquilized zombies, she slid her chair back and walked toward the front desk. Down one peaceful, sea-green hallway, around a carpeted corner, and toward the glass double doors she walked, shuffling her feet quietly. Heather read the reversed gold-leaf letters on the door. There wasn't a single nurse at the desk. She put her hand on the door handle and pushed.
"Hrrummkhh!" an aide coughed. "It's locked."
Heather froze, then turned around slowly. "How do I get out?"
The aide was a brown-haired, nondescript man of about thirty-five. "You'll have to speak with your doctor about that," he said, stepping closer to Heather. "Would you like to go back to the game room?"
Heather decided not to make a fuss. If I act crazy, they'll keep me in here, she thought. Just stay cool and act normal "Where else is there?"
The aide smiled. "No place, really. All the therapy rooms are closed off for the evening. Unless you want to go to bed now, you'll have to sit in the game room."
"Okay," Heather sighed. "How do I get to talk to my doctor? I really don't belong her, you know." She saw the aide's grin widen. Uh-oh. That was a mistake.
"Very few of our patients do," the aide said. "Most of the psychiatrists make rounds during the day, depending on how many patients they have here. You might as well just wait for Doctor Pickett to come around tomorrow."
Heather followed the aide's gesture toward the other patients. "Is he really a doctor? He doesn't look old enough."
"Oh, yes. Pickett's a good man," the aide said. "Your parents must have been quite concerned to go to him." He ushered her into the game room. "Have a pleasant evening, Miss Layton. If you have a hard time sleeping, just speak to me or one of the nurses." He nodded and left, going someplace where he could see without being seen.
Heather thought, Well, I can't get out.. .I might as well try to make the best of it. Maybe I can figure out why all these other loonies are here in the bin with me. She found a chair in the corner and watched.
It was strange . . . strange because not one of the other patients acted strange. Heather watched and listened to subdued conversations, card games, and the muttering of one man watching television. It was like a small-town bus depot with a dozen riders who didn't much care when the bus came, or if it came. A short, middle-aged lady with frizzy red hair dropped out of the card game and moved to speak with a young man. They both left the room.
What the heck is that? Heather wondered. The couple was heading toward the back of the ward. No one paid much attention, least of all the invisible aides. Heather thought about following them, but picked up a magazine instead. In half an hour, the couple came back, holding their arms around each other's waist and smiling. Heather glanced over the top of the magazine. A reminiscent tingle chilled her pussy. They look like they've been making love! she realized.
It was hard to fit together. If they can do it here, right in the middle of the hospital, how come Ray and I can't do it anywhere? Why are there different rules for nut balls than for kids like me? Heather began to get annoyed.
It had taken hours for her to go from shock at her parents' betrayal to showing interest in the other patients. From the time Heather checked in to the ward until she started noticing the other patients, it was a half-day chopped out of her life, a half-day where she barely existed. She looked around the magazine, the cells of her brain starting to work overtime.
The little redhead moved from the first man's chair to another corner of the room. She muttered to someone else, but he shook his head. Heather couldn't hear what either of them said, but her aroused suspicions were exactly right. The redhead went to another man, then another before wandering away from the game room with him.
Heather put down her magazine and followed when they were out of sight. She peeked around a corner in time to see a door sighing shut, then looked over her shoulder. No aides or nurses in sight. Heather tiptoed to the door and looked through the little window. The woman already had her dress off, but the man could see the door if he glanced just a fraction away from her. Heather spotted a side door at the back of the room and she glided down the hall.
The room Heather sneaked into had a lot of vague, shiny equipment in it, and no lights. She took advantage of the narrowing slash of light from the hall and scurried between the gear to the connecting door. Heather stood back just far enough that the light in the occupied room wouldn't show her face at the window, and watched.
The little red-haired woman was well-built, in a chunky, well-padded way. Her breasts weren't as large as Heather's, but they were firm and high-set, with shockingly red nipples. The deep blush of the aureoles covered the whole end of each titty. There was only a tiny crease of sag, not even enough to hold a pencil beneath each breast.
The hair on her pussy was thick and copper-colored, just a shade or two darker than the tight curls on her head. Heather was surprised to see such a thin bush on a woman of thirty-five or forty . . . the curls let the moist-looking little triangle over her clitty show through like a little tongue. It almost looked barbered, with the fluffy cunt-hairs following the curve of her pussylips. Down near the bottom, where the hairs disappeared between the redhead's plump thighs, they were wet, sparkling with little diamonds of juice. Even her large, round buttocks looked firm, packed full with femaleness. The few scattered freckles on her pale skin accented the rich, ripe curve of her hips and the sassy out-swell of her asscheeks. Her waist was smaller when she was naked than when she was dressed . . . the redhead's clothes hid the sharp in-tuck and the relaxed curve of her lower belly.
The man was young, as the first one had been.. . maybe twenty or twenty-two. He was middle-sized, with short blond hair and spectacles. The glasses were the only thing worth noting, at least to Heather . . . until he stripped off his pants.
The blond man had his back turned to the side door. Heather wanted to see around him, past his buttocks. She caught a glimpse of wrinkled flesh between his legs, but that wasn't what interested her. Heather felt the warm creaminess starting to ooze onto her panties as she imagined the up-jutting curve of his prick. She licked her lips and thought, Oh, please, please turn around!
He did, slowly, and Heather's heart was in her mouth. Without thinking, she slipped one hand down to the front of her skirt, pressing the cloth into an indented triangle over her pussy. Heather held the growing warmth in with her fingertips, barely pushing at one side of her cunny, then the other.
The redhead's eyes were focused where Heather's wanted to be, at a point above and in front of his crotch. The crazy lady turned as the young man did, standing in front of him. Her hands never stopped moving up and down her body, caressing all the way from the firm swell of her hips to the sides of her red-nippled tits. She rolled her titties against each other, and Heather felt the same slippery sensuality come into her breasts that she'd felt in her shower, years before.
Finally, the head of the man's cock came into view. Heather moaned low. The wide flare of his cockhead seemed twice as big as Ray's, and it pointed up like a saber. The shaft curved perfectly, to Heather's eyes. She could imagine the slight bow of the shaft sending that big, plum-colored head exploring all through her cunt flesh, swirling new sensations around her womb even as his thick, heavy blond cock bush pressed sheets of cunty heat into her clit. Heather felt her palms sweating, aching to touch that long, strong weapon. She gulped down the saliva that filled her mouth.
The sight made Heather feel more alone. The thick glass window was a barrier. It was like watching the whole scene unfold on television. She moved toward the door, then back again. What would happen if I went in there? she worried. Oh, I want it! I can almost feel it inside me!
Heather unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. The thin elastic of her panties didn't stop her fingers as they dove into the wet curls of her cunt-hair. The crotch of her panties was already moist with the overflow from her vagina when Heather slipped a finger down the center of her crease. She wished she could touch him, feel the thickening, stiffening hardness of his cock as it got ready to spurt, then smear the come over her belly and breasts. Maybe . . . maybe I am going crazy! I want more and I just.. . Ray and I. . . twice in one day? A hollow thumping in her cunt told Heather that she wanted it, even if she had to interrupt them.
The red-haired woman went down to her knees in front of the man, and Heather felt a pang. Why hadn't she sucked Ray when she had the chance? Was this perverted, or another example of different rules for the inmates? The man didn't seem revolted by the woman kneeling so close to his prick. Watching, Heather's mouth fell open. She imagined the warmth of that knob entering her mouth. She automatically shielded her lower teeth with her tongue. She was drooling copiously. Even the flow of pussyjuice that slicked her fingers increased.
Heather slid her hand up under her little blouse, past the strong underhand of her bra, and around the bulge of her breast. The pink nugget of her nipple was straining at the soft, unpadded cup of her bra. Heather groaned low, moving her fingers faster in her cuntal crease.
The red-haired woman held her titties in her hands, raising them, presenting them to the man's prick. Heather couldn't believe it. Her own breasts felt full to bursting, aching with hunger. When the woman hobbled forward and wet the head of his cock with saliva, Heather wanted to die.
The man reached down and guided her head to his cock again. He began to stroke back and forth, resting the tips of his fingers on the back of her head. Heather sucked in and out, wishing she could feel that long, red-topped length of cock coaxing more spit out of her mouth. The redhead pulled back and said something. The man grinned savagely, and Heather wanted to cry. She needed that prick, those feelings, the thick, white stuff she knew would fly out of it. I can't help it, Ray, she thought. I just can't help it!
The redhead stepped away from the jutting mass of male meat and found a chair. She sat, her knees spread wide, and waited for the man to follow. When he leaned over her, his prick was just below the level of her tits. The woman slid down in the chair, and his knee went to her crotch. Heather watched the soft female flesh mold to his leg. Even from the other room, Heather could see how much further the juice had spread on the woman's cunt. The hairs all along the sides of her cuntlips were stuck tight to her skin, showing every soft, squishy movement of the tender flesh. Heather spread her own legs, bending her knees. She remembered the heavy, rollicking feel of Ray's belly against her cunt-mound. The thought of a hard, strong knee grinding against the defenseless strips of her labia inflamed her. Heather knew that just a few touches there would drive her right over the edge of coming.
NO!NO!NO! Heather thought. The redhead cupped a titty in each hand and thrust her chest forward. With a shock that twisted her deep inside, Heather watched the other woman wrap her breasts around the upstanding length of the man's prick. The crimson knob at the tip stuck out, sliding toward the woman's throat and away, toward and away.
Heather made a choked sobbing noise from her voyeur's post. She slipped her hand from her nipple to the valley of her cleavage, imagining the sensation of a cock sliding in her bosom. Heather tried to imitate a prick with her fingers, the way she'd done so many times in her cunt, but it didn't work. She got hotter, her cunt got wetter, and Heather couldn't tear her eyes away from the couple in the other room.
Now the man held the redhead's tits, rolling and mashing them together around his cock. She had her hands stroking up and down on his ass, sensuously gliding at first, then digging in harder and harder. The fatty layer just under his skin dimpled as the woman clawed at his ass. His knee rose, gleaming with shiny cunt juice. He rubbed faster along the wet slash of her pussy.
Heather almost couldn't look. She could hardly stand the worry of wondering when they would come. The chair was tipped back on two legs. Only the ass grip she held kept the redhead from tumbling backwards. The man's knee slid up and down in time to the thrusts of his cock between her tits. The pale skin showing his hands was red, blushing hotter and hotter with every long, titty-fucking slide of his prick.
Heather had two fingers in her cunt now, sliding back and forth. She twisted the digits against each other, loving the sucking feeling of the meaty inner folds of her cunt. A trace of Ray's come helped lubricate the flesh. Heather slipped her other hand out from between her tits to give her cunt all the attention it hungered for.
With both hands working, one rolling her clit around and the other moving further and further into her cunthole, Heather watched the bizarre writhing in the next room. She hoped they would come soon . . . she wanted to see the creamy white come spurt up from his cockhead and watch what happened when the redhead went off. Did every woman react as strongly to an orgasm as Heather did?
Heather fitted another finger into her cunt, but her nails hurt the sensitive tissues. She slid it back out, letting it rest alongside the sopping wetness of her cunthole. She mashed the panic-button stub of her clitty down into the folds of her love mound, feeling the throbs pounding up her spine from her cunt. Heather didn't know if she could watch any more. Her knees were getting weaker and weaker, making her wobble around. It was hard to look through the window. Heather staggered.
In the next room, the man's cockshaft was blazing, irritated bright red whenever it came up from between the soft hillocks of the redhead's titty-cunt. Heather watched the woman try to dribble spit down onto the cockhead. The woman let go of her tit-fucker's ass, sliding her hands up to the small of his back. The man's knee had stopped rising and falling. Now it twisted, grinding against the wet center of her slit. Heather balled one hand into a fist and shoved it against her clit, forcing the little stub back into her flesh. The last little bit of strength Heather had held her upright.
The redhead spat at the man's prick again, loading the whole end with foamy saliva. The shiny rod plunged down again, then up toward her face. She spit again, and the cock spit back. Heather felt her knees giving way. She tried to stop the gyrations of her fist and her fingers, begging with her body to hold off just another second.
The man started to come. Thick strings of semen shot at the redhead's gasping mouth. Heather wanted to cry when she saw the come spatter against the woman's face. It was such a waste . . . Heather wanted to taste it. All the times she'd jacked Ray off, s he'd never had a single drop of come in her mouth.
But the man was shooting more than single drops . . . again and again, in fast, furious jets, the bursts of semen sprayed. The redhead was trying to catch it in her mouth. A long rope of come trailed off her hair, and a collar of come dribbled around her throat. She grabbed at his ass again, pulling him forward. A full jet of seed splashed into her mouth. She swallowed. Heather saw the little lump of her Adam' apple move down, then up again, and the young blonde surrendered to her own come.
CHAPTER FOUR
By the time Dr. Pickett showed up the next morning, Heather had read all the magazines in the day room. Another patient told her the jigsaw puzzles all had pieces missing, so Heather didn't bother. She sat in a back corner of the day room, watching the bored, dreamlike movements of the other inmates and wishing she were out.
The time crawled. Heather could have sworn she'd spent a year sitting around the psychiatric ward in just the one morning. From her chair, Heather could just see Dr. Pickett appear. She perked up, but he waved and disappeared down the hall. How the hell can I get out of here?
Heather paced back and forth. She looked out the window. Third floor. Great. How about a rope made out of torn sheets?
No, first I have to get the window open, and they all look sealed. Damn this mess! What happened?
It was those reds.. . those reds and that goddamn Ray. I never heard of anybody else being punished for making love.. . at least, not so hard and so fast. Now I think I know what bored to death really means.
Where is that quack headshrinker, anyway? I thought he was coming to talk with me. I wonder how much it costs Mom and Dad for him to took through the door and warn? Too much, I'm sure.
Maybe that's why the red-haired lady was going around to all the guys last night. . . she's bored too. I can dig it. I almost wish I had that kind of nerve. Mmmmmmh . . . that blonde dude was put together pretty well
Come on, Heather, don't jive yourself. He had a nice big dick, that's all
Well, so what? If that's the only interesting part about him, why shouldn't I think about it? God knows there's nothing else to think about here, except when Vm getting out. I don't have any way to know about that, but I do know that guy was pretty big.
"Rats!" Heather muttered. She looked around. There was one aide in sight, but he was kibitzing a card game. Casually, as if she were just continuing her pacing, Heather headed back toward the rear of the ward. She walked down the corridors and began peeking through the windows set high in the doors.
There were a half-dozen disused rooms, set up for groups, art, and other things that Heather couldn't identify. There were four people in one room throwing beanbags back and forth, their expressions blank. They missed a throw or a catch about half the time.
One room looked empty. Still thinking about the blond man's cock, Heather checked over her shoulder and slipped into the room. Heather looked around, then thought, To hell with them. I don't care! She skinned out of her skirt and blouse, then slowly unhooked the back of her bra. She held the image of the blond man's cock in her mind's eye. The long, red-raw look of the shaft as he rammed it back and forth between the redhead's tits and the thick spurts of come stayed in her vision like a slow-motion film. Heather slipped her panties down and fluffed up her pussy-hairs. She trailed one fingertip down from her belly to the upper fringe of her pubes.
Damn!It's not working. Heather thought. It's all in my head.. . my pussy doesn't feel it! She slid her hand back up from the fluffy dry curls of her cunt-hair to the base of her titties. She looked down at the pink-tipped mounds and watched the slow, firm molding when she squeezed. With just a little lift and slow, sensuous kneading, her titties went from broad-based cones to long cylinders. The tips tingled, beginning to stand up.
Heather liked watching her body respond, but this wasn't quite right. In the hospital, all by herself, she felt more alone than she ever had. The room was strange and wide-open, not like her shower or her bedroom or even the sweat-sticky seats of Ray's old car. The naughty tingle of being caught had excited her more in the park with Ray, but here it only made her more nervously reluctant to turn on.
Heather stalked naked through the room, trying tricks she'd learned in her bedroom at home. Even feeling the stretch and compression of every muscle or the easy, fluid bounce of her titties didn't seem to start the syrupy flow of juice in her pussy. By the time she'd prowled, slinky as a tigress, twice around the room, Heather had decided to stop worrying about masturbating. She glanced toward the door. Maybe I'll just stand here bare and feel the air on my skin. It would be nice if I were outdoors.
She stretched, raising her arms high over head. The lush mounds of her titties flattened slightly, poking her nipples higher from the rounded surface. Heather did a back-twisting exercise, putting a hand on her hip and levering around to the left, then to her right. It felt much better than it had in gym class. At school she was always confined in her uniform, complete with heavy bra and tight shorts. Here, the natural naked resilience of her skin worked beautifully.
Yeah, don't prisoners of war try to keep exercising all the time to keep from losing their minds? Heather giggled. What a place to go crazy. . . right inside the nuthouse! She spread her feet and crisscrossed, swinging her torso to touch her toes with her outstretched fingertips. Her buttocks flexed enchantingly with every half-turn, and her breasts swayed like pendulums full of luscious femininity. "One.. two.. . One.. . two . . . " Heather breathed, then speeded up. "One-two . . . one-two . . . one-two!"
She didn't hear the door open behind her. A short, slim, dark-haired girl watched, her eyes are big as a frightened doe's. Katy, the dark-haired girl, had sneaked away from the corner where she usually sat watching. Now she hid from the eyes that always sought her out. She watched Heather's calisthenics.
Katy was nineteen, and scared of almost everything. Even though she was the prettiest girl ever born into either side of her family for generations, the jealous bickering from her brothers and sisters had convinced her that she was ugly and useless. She'd been in the hospital for six months, and no one had ever managed to get a word out of her. Katy could stand anywhere for hours, brushing her long brown hair and never acknowledging anyone's presence. Her parents hadn't picked on her like the rest of the family did.. . after all, Katy did all the chores she was asked to, and more besides. She never talked back or did anything exceptional until the day she began smashing mirrors. The nurses at the hospital were careful to keep her away from shiny surfaces now.. . Katy refused to get into the ambulance until the driver covered the mirrors with bandages.
Katy stood watching behind Heather, seeing the bob-and-stop of a nipple at the side of a thigh on every count, admiring the flexion of the long, shapely muscles along Heather's legs and the easy toss of
Heather's tong blonde hair. Katy wanted to be like Heather . . . tall, blonde, and industrious. Katy knew anyone so pretty would work so hard at exercises with no one else around had to be someone she could talk to. Maybe the tall blonde even could teach Katy how to be pretty and happy and unmedicated, too.
Katy wanted to join Heather's calisthenics. With her blunt fingers trembling, Katy undid her buttons and shrugged out of her blouse. Then the bra went, exposing round, pillowy-looking titties with pink-brown nipples. The aureoles were exceptionally wide, but the little buttons of the tips were only a little bigger than the tip of her little fingers. Katy shed her skirt, then paused. Maybe the tall, pretty person working so industriously alone wouldn't want her there. Does anybody want an ugly person around?
Katy gnawed at her lower lips. She bent down to gather her clothes and disappeared. The steady huffing along with the exercise count stopped. Katy froze, looking up past her eyebrows. No, Heather wasn't looking at her. The blonde changed exercises, jumping up to clap her hands over her head and coming down with her legs spread two feet apart. Another count, and Heather slapped her hands down to her sides and popped her feet together again. "One-two, one-two," Katy heard.
Afraid that she would lose her nerve, Katy stripped her panties off. The curve of her slim buttocks was just wide enough to strain the elastic of the skimpy bikini as she pulled it down. She tossed her panties onto the floor and moved to a place four feet behind Heather. Katy bobbed on her toes, catching the rhythm of the blonde girl's jumps, then began matching her jump for jump.
Heather didn't notice anything at first. Her eyes were closed as she concentrated on tiring her body. Heather felt the air parting for the sweep of her arms, caressing her skin and drying the thin film of sweat almost as soon as it appeared. After the initial raw-throated rasp of her breath, the beat of her body and her lungs meshed. She jumped and slapped mindlessly. Heather concentrated completely on the feel of the wooden floor under her feet and the springiness in her legs.
The thump of her feet got louder, then Heather opened her eyes. What is that? She stopped on a one-count. Slap-thump!
Heather didn't know whether to turn around or scream and run. She let her hands down. Goosebumps covered her back, all the way from the erected little hairs at her nape to the swell of her ass.
"I'm sorry," Katy said. "I-I'll go away."
Heather turned around slowly. Katy stood there, looking as if she expected Heather to hit her. The dark-haired girl's voice was soft and throaty. Heather remembered seeing her at dinner, nibbling at tiny bites of food whenever she was sure no one else was watching. Before going into her snit of frustrated boredom that morning, Heather had felt sorry for the girl. She always looked as if she wanted to be invisible, and she almost succeeded. When Heather looked at her that morning, it was like seeing a slightly less blank spot on the wall.
"Katy?" Heather asked. Her voice came out in a squeak. Heather tried to cover herself, but knew it was ridiculous after the first quick flurry of her limbs. She flapped her wrists. "Uh, wh-what are you doing here?"
Katy's eyes stayed on Heather's face, searching for some clue about what the blonde girl might do to her. "I was watching you exercise," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced down, releasing Heather's eyes from the magnetic lock of her stare. Heather looked quickly at Katy's body, then looked again.
Her pussy's naked! She shaved her pussy! Heather thought. Why? Why in the world would she do that? Heather tried to keep her eyes away from the plump little triangle of naked flesh, but her glance kept sneaking back to it. The central edges of the little crease were pinkish, turning darker as Katy blushed with embarrassment.
"You're very pretty, Heather," Katy said softly.
"Umm, thank you, Katy. You're very pretty, too." Heather's eyes kept flicking back to the center of the strangely naked patch of pussy flesh. I can see her getting wetter! Heather watched a tiny, moist triangle of skin push forward when Katy shifted from one foot to the other. Her clitty's standing up! Heather swallowed. The warmth in her own pussy began to rise. It's happening to me, too! What's going on? What should I do?
"Heather's a pretty name. It fits you very well," Katy said. Her wide brown eyes were pleading. "I wish I had a pretty name.. . I'd feel so much nicer."
"Katy's a nice name," Heather said quickly. She saw Katy's eyes narrow as she winced. "But not as pretty as you," Heather added. Heather shifted her feet. The girls were less than two feet apart now, and Heather began to notice how pretty Katy really was. Her eyes went to Katy's mouth, lingering on her pillowy, glossy-looking lips. Heather felt the soft, melting sensation in her pussy increase, as if the whole lower portion of her belly was getting soupy. Her nipples stood up, the deep-pink rims crinkling.
"No, Katy's not pretty. It's a name for a fat, ugly little girl who never grows up," Katy said. Her jaw muscles tightened, as if she expected Heather to agree . . . or disagree.
Heather felt feverish. She felt as if the heat inside her skin was radiating out and echoing back from Katy's curvy little body. Heather felt wound open inside her chest when she saw the fearful look in Katy's eyes. Holding her mind blank, shutting out any thoughts that might stop her, Heather leaned forward and kissed Katy.
Heather found Katy's mouth as soft and wet and deliciously warm as it looked. Still blocking out all thoughts, Heather let her tongue flow against Katy's. Warm, gluey-soft lips enfolded Heather's mouth. Shyness and something else, something hidden very, very deep inside Katy, reached up to the sliding, molding, warm surface of their mouths.
Heather put her arms around Katy. The two girls each took a half-step, pressing the whole lengths of their bodies together. Heather's hands moved easily across the parchment-smooth textures of Katy's flesh, relishing the warmth. It was nothing like the fever spinning inside Heather, it was the comforting warmth of another person who needed to be held.
Heather felt the impressions of Katy's body touch and glide across her skin like velvet. The firm, round tops and the little buttons of Katy's titties pressed against the rich softness of Heather's bosom. Heather melted.
Katy was nearly six inches shorter than Heather. The lovely blonde had to bend down to hold her mouth against the soft-kissing moistness of Katy's. The domelike curve of Katy's belly just touched the fluffy blonde curls of Heather's pussy-hairs. Heather shifted her feet.
The soft, slightly moist bulge of Katy's shaved pussy touched Heather's thigh. Heather pressed her own loins forward and felt a spark jump from Katy's hipbone to the center of her own pussy, arcing across the lush dampness of Heather's pussy-hairs.
Heather had been there in the hospital, alone and abandoned, for less than a day. Katy had been there for six long months. Heather sucked in the need from Katy's mouth along with the other girl's saliva. Heather's thoughts and feelings hazed over, then focused like a cloud in front of her face. Even with only their mouths touching, Heather could feel all the contours of Katy's pretty face with her mind. She felt the girl's need and hunger, too, right outside her skin. The two girls overflowed into each other, merging into the clouds of sensation between them. Heather's body began to react, following the example of her mind.
The eerie warmth between them bypassed the usual routes of skin-nerves and fingerings. It worked like some strange remote control, operating directly on the lewd centers of erotic feeling in her brain. Heather realized what was happening when the spontaneous warmth in her pussy had turned soupy enough to melt down her thigh in a trickle of rich juice.
Heather and Katy tasted each other's mouths for long minutes, hardly movingat all. Heather's hands slid gently over Katy's back, and Kathy's hands touched Heather's skin, but it wasn't as strong or as comforting as the ongoing welcome their mouths gave each other.
Heather delighted in the soft femaleness of Katy's skin. She'd never touched another girl that way before, but Heather loved it. It was absolute perfection, with the unmistakable softness and fluidity of her feminine caresses. The inviting, enfolding pressure of their lips together was like nothing Heather had ever felt with a man.
They didn't need words. The coaxing, the pleading and arguing Heather had had with male dates before was superfluous. Her lips and tongue and free-flowing saliva told Katy that everything was fine, that Katy was a pretty name, that a shy, needful woman like her could trust Heather.. . the long, flowing kisses told Katy everything Heather felt.
And Katy's body returned the pleasure and the meshing warmth. Her skin, her hands, the scent of her long dark hair, all combined to tell Heather how much Katy wanted and needed someone to be truly close with her. Heather couldn't tell, after the first long, sensuous slithering of the kiss, which of them hummed with pleasure. Their mouths slowly, erotically, untangled.
Heather looked into Katy's eyes. The shy glow was becoming more confident. Every time Heather tried to think to herself how fresh Katy tasted, or remember the texture of each little taste bud, Katy seemed to read her mind. The little brunette smiled, just a little at first, but it grew to a wide, pleasurable grin. Katy glanced down between them.
Heather smiled, too, and stepped back just a fraction. She looked at the incredible pale round size of Katy's aureoles and the tops of her titties. Heather nodded, knowing what would come next.
Katy touched the underside of Heather's breast, lifting it slightly. Heather had never felt anything like those soft, firm, womanly fingers. They didn't hurry or prod at her bosom. Katy knew by touching what Heather wanted. She touched the rim of Heather's nipple.
Heather's pussy mouth filled with a fresh flow of cream. She slid her hand from the back of Katy's waist to the voluptuous swell of her slender hip. From waist to thigh, Heather loved the luscious taper of Katy's body.
Heather felt odd touching the other girl. Her fingers seemed too long and too close to her feelings. She loved the feeling of Katy's skin, whether she stroked or let her fingertips rest in one place. Heather wanted to close her-eyes when she saw the feminine softness of Katy's hip dimple under the light touch of fingertips.
Something like the creamy feeling in her pussy filled the whole room. Heather felt as if the room was full of a clear, weightless fluid that slowed time down to a lingering crawl. Heather brought her right shoulder forward, and Katy's pillowy lips touched her breast.
It wasn't a direct dive for the nipple. Katy teased around the pink spire. Even though it was hard as a marble and Heather expected Katy's lips to lock onto the tip immediately, Katy refused to suck and gnaw at it. Katy took full advantage of her soft, warm lips and her slow-slithering tongue.
Katy covered every inch of Heather's right breast with tiny kisses, her mouth closed. After the whole round mass of Heather's breast was covered with the after-tingle of the pursed lip-prints, Katy did the same for the left titty. There was no boyish hurry, no virile chin-stubble to distract.. . not that Heather minded that with Ray. It was the texture, as much as the slow lascivious motions of Katy's lips, that made the titty-kisses so seductive.
Heather's hand moved slowly up and down, caressing Katy from the nipped-in line of her waist to the soft, voluptuous curve of her hip. Heather moaned, her nerves overloaded with sensations, and Katy peeked up at her.
The brunette's eyes were really alive now. She had a knowing twinkle in her glance. She rolled her hips like a belly dancer and took Heather's nipple into her mouth.
Heather's grip on Katy's bottom tightened automatically, and she pulled the smaller girl's pussy against her thigh. The hot, wet pads of her pussylips were baby-smooth on Heather's skin. Heather couldn't resist sliding her hands around to Katy's buttocks and rollicking in the female wonder of the flesh.
Katy's bottom felt as lush and juicy as a ripe peach. Heather's fine fingertips spanned the whole width of each vibrant globe. Even the slight crease beneath, where the slim pillars of her thighs met her ass, was a perfect joy to touch. Heather's fingertips fitted into the line beautifully, just the way her forefingers and thumbs slipped into the vertical crease of her bottom-cleavage.
Even while Heather's hands frolicked on Katy's bottom, Katy's tongue bathed Heather's pink nipple. The muscular little organ swirled around, washing the sides of the crinkled rim, then lashing threads of spittle and sensuality across the tip. Katy lavished incredible amounts of saliva and lewd motion on Heather's titty. Her lips milked at the whole tip, bringing the point of Heather's nipple in and out before she even touched the squared-off end of the button. Katy never sucked at it.. . she squeezed and released, squeezed and released until Heather groaned.
Katy hummed with proud pleasure. She ground the soft, slippery, shaved mound of her cunny against Heather's thigh. Heather's leg felt like ice under a blowtorch, getting thinner and weaker and puddling away faster by the second. With a whimper, Heather gave in. She pulled Katy closer and both girls sat on the floor.
They had to step back from each other to find the room to sit. The soggy swamp in Heather's pussy squished loud enough for her to hear when she moved. The girls' hands stayed in contact, Heather's on Katy's hips and Katy's on Heather's high, proud bosom. They arranged themselves on the floor as quickly as they could. A flow of high-energy lust was circling between them, and neither of them wanted it to dissipate.
Heather and Katy leaned on one hand each, half-reclining. They faced each other, Katy's fingers trailing down from Heather's breast to her waist while Heather stroked the lascivious curve of Katy's hip. Now that neither girl was afraid to stare at the other, they devoured each other with their eyes.
Heather thought Katy's compact, curvy body was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. Katy looked as firm as and sweet and juicy all over as she felt to Heather's fingers.
The little inside strips of Katy's pussy were pushing out past the guarding swell of her outer labia. The inner flesh had turned deep red, with a meaty-looking triangle of moistness just where Heather knew the clitty was lurking, waiting for a touch. Heather's own clit was standing rigid, feeling at least half a foot long and hungry for contact.
Heather started to reach for the inviting warmth of Katy's pussy, but she decided to ask before touching that private little zone. Heather took her eyes away from the lewd puffiness of the cuntal triangle just long enough to look at Katy's face. Katy nodded before Heather could speak.
Heather caught her breath. She still hardly dared to move her hand closer. She raised her knee so Katy could touch her if she wanted, when she wanted. The continuing gushes of cream from Heather's pussy spread to the tops of her thighs, making the tender skin gleam like an oily slick on a rain puddle. A little breath of air chilled the fluid, and Heather realized how incredibly far her cunt-juice had spread.
The sterile air of the hospital was filling with the scent of the two girls' pussies. Heather smelled the familiar aroma of her own pussy and the slightly muskier scent that was Katy's cream. The mingling odors excited both girls. Heather felt dizzy. She moved her fingers toward Katy's pussy an inch at a time.
Heather loved the different textures of Katy's skin. She traced her way toward the center of her pussy. The full, rich curve of Katy's slender bottom had stretched her skin tight as they sat down, making the smoothness taut, but still delectable. At the line where her belly and her thigh met, the skidding of Heather's fingertips made the delicate skin shudder slightly, bouncing and clinging to Heather's hand. Heather's palm flattened toward the hairless triangle of Katy's pussylips. She felt the heat radiating like the warmth rising from a light bulb.
The puffy pads of Katy's pussylips were sheer heaven to touch. They were resilient and incredibly sensuous, like Heather's own pussy, but the magic of the feeling grew every time Heather realized it was another person's body she touched, not her own. All the lonely selfishness of touching her own pussy disappeared as Heather cupped the whole delicious mound of cunt flesh in her palm.
Heather squeezed lightly, rolling the plump, squishy lips from side to side. It was the lewdest, most delightful sensation Heather had ever felt. She could see the way the motion carried to the base of Katy's belly and the front of her thighs and feel the gushy, dribbling flow of her pussyjuice.
The slippery fluid was like nectar. Heather imagined drowning in it, the way she'd tried to drown her fingers in her own pussy. Heather's heart pounded like a huge drum, insisting that she needed more and more of Katy's creamy flow.
Katy watched Heather's face, then watched the hand moving so erotically in her pussy. Every time her eyes moved away, they stayed only an instant before returning to Heather's face. Each slow, gentle motion of Heather's hand changed Katy's expression from pride in her body to lewd anticipation or shocked lust. Her hips began to move with the slow, insistent squeezes.
Heather watched the flow of expressions on Katy's face. A shared sense of pride in both their bodies rose up in her. It filled Heather halfway with happy giving, but left room for the hungry throbbing at the center of her pussy. Heather looked into Katy's face and moved her lips slightly. Katy smiled.
Katy slid her hand toward Heather's pussy. Heather nodded, hoping that Katy would hurry, but the sexy little brunette took plenty of time. Heather kept working her fingers, trying to speed Katy by rushing her cunt faster, but it didn't work.
Heather didn't understand. She'd always been able to hurry boys . . . or almost always. Perhaps it was the lascivious mood that filled them both, or maybe the strange, lewd meshing of their minds. Heather kneaded at Katy's shaved cunt like she was pulling taffy. She closed her eyes and lay on her side on the floor.
The side of Heather's titty touched the cool, dusty floor. Katy scooted closer, lying down just in front of Heather. Each girl had one knee in the air, offering her pussy openly for the other to handle and discover. Heather moved her pelvis in a needful little squirm and whimpered.
Katy silenced Heather with another kiss on the mouth. Her fingertips brushed through Heather's pussy-hairs. Heather sucked gratefully at Katy's tongue. Heather was so alert, so alive to the erogenous sensations that she could hear the difference when Katy's fingers moved from the dry, crinkling top fuzz of her pussy to the cream-soaked base of the triangle. Heather moaned in wet, slobbering kiss, pleading with Katy to touch the soft skin of her cuntlips or the stiff need of her clitty. When that didn't work fast enough, Heather slipped her arm under Katy's neck and tugged Katy's body against her own.
Both pairs of titties mashed together. Without either girl realizing it, the prolonged love play had covered both of them with sweat. Their titties slid and slithered like extensions of the wet heat of their cunts. Nipples touched nipples and pressed lines and circles in the firm, bouncy flesh of their tits. With a writhing twist, one of Katy's breasts slipped into the sweat-soaked cleavage of Heather's bosom.
Heather almost started to come without even a fingertip on her pussy. The sensation of having Katy's breast between Heather's was even more sensuous than Heather had imagined a cock would be. It was as hotly gratifying as feeling a cock slide, stiff and strong, into her pussy. Heather felt the other breast rolling on top like a nuzzling head. She hugged Katy as tight as she could and the smaller girl began to moan into Heather's mouth.
Heather squirmed, rolling her hips forward. Katy's hand clamped over the whole sopping mound of Heather's pussy. Heather felt huge floods of cream flowing, melting Katy's hand into a soft, pliable mass that merged with her cunt.
Heather kneaded Katy's pussy into a delicious, putty-like mass. She slipped her fingers into the central slit and slithered them joyously around in the gooey warmth of Katy's juices. Without trying, Heather found her fingers slipping into Katy's vagina.
The two girls churned against each other like oil-bathed machine parts, rolling and swiveling. With their breasts caressing each other and their hands in their pussies, they struggled faster and faster. Both feminine tongues writhed, sometimes in Katy's mouth, sometimes in Heather's. They kissed as if they were fencing, but the battle wasn't for conquest. Both desperately hungry girls struggled to join each other in a violent burst of orgasm.
And Heather and Katy approached it faster with every second. The slow, unhurried sensuality of their movements quickened.. . still without hurrying. Heather recognized the closeness of the come in Katy's body as well as her own.
Katy pressed her hand harder and harder against Heather's cunt. Heather slid one finger, then another into the brunette's pussy mouth. Heather wiggled her fingers back and forth, spreading the digits in a vee to open Katy wider, to fill her more completely. Heather ground the heel of her hand down until she felt the sensuous pads of flesh that shielded Katy's clitty mash down and expose the hot little trigger.
The spike under her palm drove Heather higher. It felt like a little rod of glowing pearl. It swiveled lewdly with every shift of Heather's hand. Katy sucked harder at Heather's tongue, pleading for more pressure. Heather shoved a third finger into Katy's cunt and tried to clench her fist.
The heat in Heather's cunt was like a blast furnace. White-hot sparks shattered outward from her clit every time Katy ground her hand against it. Heather's clit was a vibrating pellet of heat, and the hammering pressure of Katy's hand smashed the intense chills all along Heather's nerves. Katy rolled Heather's clit and the soft flesh around it into a bullet that would explode any second. Heather's cunthole spasmed tight around Katy's fingertips. She shoved her hips down and forward, telling Katy how she wanted more and more slithering fingers inside her cunt.
Katy understood. Another finger, then a fourth slid greasily into Heather's cunt. Both pussies were squishing even louder than the ragged gusts of their breath. The girls had to pull their mouths apart. Heather looked into Katy's face. Both of them nodded.
Heather worked her hand against the rubbery grip of Katy's cunt, forcing big squirts of pussy lube from her hole. Heather's hand was wet to the wrist, and drops of cunt-juice splattered clear to her knees.
Heather thought the hand in her crotch was the whole world. Heather twisted, afraid of what would happen when the come finally burst over them. Katy's tits slid over and between Heather's like separate living things trying to accelerate the rush of lust until both girls fell apart.
The writhing girls stared at each other. Their mouths and eyes were open wide. They strained for air. Heather knew it was only a heartbeat away. Katy's face showed how close she was to the edge. There was terror mingled with the slack-lipped look of cunty heat on both faces. Heather tried to pull Katy closer, wanting to comfort her and feel her body pressed against their bodies pressed together from head to foot. It started.
Heather had never felt such a tremendous shock. Her cunt clamped down on the four fingers in her hole like a rubber glove. She felt every knuckle and pad of Katy's fingers. Heather molded around the girl's fist, pulling Katy's hand deeper. Her own hand was sucked into Katy's cunt.
Waves of tension and release ran through them both, running from head to toe. Heather's comforting tug at Katy turned into an iron grip. Both girls were drowning in the sheer depth of their shared come. Heather went off again and again, feeling the waves in Katy's cunt as strongly as if they were her own. It was like they were both one single mass of simmering flesh that had suddenly flashed to boiling. They expanded and contracted, glued together from their knees to their mouths. Heather wondered if the come would ever end.
Each involuntary rocking slide of her pelvis moved that slippery hand up and down in her cunt and tugged the petals of her cuntlips across the sides of her clit. The whole room was dark around them. Heather didn't even know if it was Katy's hand in her twat or her own. Slowly, much more slowly than it had built up, the peak faded away. Heather found the energy to smile. Katy nodded happily and closed her eyes.
"Acch-emm!" They froze.
"If you ladies are quite through with the therapy room?" the voice said.
Heather lay like a stone statue, her hand still imbedded in the taut grip of Katy's cunt. She turned her head and saw the ward nurse. Heather slowly got to her feet, wincing from the sucking plop of Katy's hand leaving her vagina. NOW I'm in trouble. Heather thought.
CHAPTER FIVE
That sonofabitch! That rotten sonofabitch, Heather thought. First Daddy throws me in the nuthouse, then he throws me out because I act as crazy as he said I was in the firs t place! I hate him, HATE him!!
And Mom's no better.. .she goes along with anything he says. Why does she let him do that? I'm not a tramp, a . . . a sex fiend! I've heard them in the middle of the night.. . .
Yeah, Dammit. I've never made as much noise as
Mom does. Gawd, the first time I heard them, I thought he was killing her!
And then she has the nerve to give me twenty dollars to "tide me over!" Jesus! If she cared, if my own mother even gave a damn about me, she. . . she.. . well, she wouldn't let Daddy throw me out of the house! What am I going to do?
Heather swung her overnight case as she stomped down the street. She didn't know where she was going or what she would do. A part of her mind said she should break down and cry, but the rest of her was too mad. Heather didn't have the time to cry, anyway. She knew that being homeless and alone would hit her soon enough, and Heather hoped to have done something about it before the time came to break down and wail.
It's not fair! It's just not fair, Heather told herself. Why should I be all on my own now? There's three more days of school before I graduate. I might never get out of high school now!
A horn honked and Heather ignored it. It honked again, twice. She looked up. No! Ray's in jail, she thought, then recognized the driver. It was a friend of Ray's she'd met once or twice.
"Hey, where you goin', Heather?" he shouted. "You need a ride?"
Heather hesitated. She didn't know how far she could trust Tommy. He'd always seemed shifty. Even when she was with Ray, Tommy talked at angles to anything she understood. All of the words -made sense, but not the way he used them. He and Ray seemed to have a code that shut her out. "I don't know, Tommy," she said. "My.. . my parents threw me out." Even after she said it, Heather wondered if she shouldn't run from Tommy. Though he was shorter than she was, his wild-eyed appearance always made her a little uncomfortable, even before he opened his mouth. Heather swung her suitcase to and fro and looked into the shadow of the car.
"No shit?" Tommy turned the car around and pulled up next to Heather. "Get in. You can stay with me and my partners for a couple days. We got an extra room."
Heather dithered a moment longer. Well, at least I know somebody who'll take me in. She pulled the door open and tossed her case into the back seat. "Thanks, Tommy. It's . . . You're a lifesaver."
Two miles through the middle of town and three miles past, and all the while Heather sat silently. Tommy didn't say much to her, though she could tell that he was about to burst with questions. Heather leaned her head back on the seat and wondered what Tommy's other friends were like. Tommy was generally scruffy, with untrimmed hair just past the tops of his ears and a few straggly whiskers that he apparently shaved off about once a week. Ray had told her more than she wanted to hear about Tommy and Rick and Teddy and their strange exploits, but Tommy was the only one Heather had ever met. She knew that they lived on the edge of the ghetto and worked strange jobs at stranger hours when they worked at all. So much for sixteen sheltered years, she told herself.
When the car started to rock on a dirt road, Heather looked up.
The house itself didn't look scary or disreputable from the outside. There was an ancient camping trailer parked at one side of the garage, and various junks of motorcycle lying in the driveway, but the big shade tree in front and the distance to the houses on each side made the place look comfortable and secluded. There was an even bigger tree in back, with some sort of tent-like arrangement up in the branches. Heather liked the air of privacy and respectability that the house exuded. Until she got inside. The living room wasn't bare.. . it was furnished with empty beer cans and overflowing ashtrays. A gun rack, as empty as the cans, hung on one wall. There were cushions scattered in the corners. An Irish Setter had taken over most of the pillows. He looked up and wagged his tail when Tommy and Heather walked through the wide-open front door.
"Hi, Sparky," Tommy said to the dog. The setter put his head down again. "Hey, Teddy! Rick! Come on and meet our new roommate!"
"Uh, Tommy, I probably won't be staying that long," Heather said. "When I get a job and . . . " she trailed off. Tommy took the suitcase out of her hand.
"This room here is vacant. Ray was gonna move in when school was over, but you might as well take it," Tommy said, opening one of three doors off the hallway. The walls of the hall were smudged with finger marks, as if whoever traveled it had difficulty standing straight all the time.
A tall, dark-haired man with a bushy black mustache appeared, a beer in one hand and a tape measure in the other. "Who's the fox?"
"This is Ray's lady, Heather," Tommy said. "That's Teddy. Don't worry about him . . . he ain't half as smart as he looks." Tommy held his hand out and took the beer can from Teddy. "Thanks."
"Oh, yeah? Tommy and Ray kept sayin' how out-tasite you were. They're right," Teddy said, taking the beer can back. He waved the tape measure. "If you, ahh, feel the urge for some open-air action, I'm expandin' the treehouse." He owl-eyed in Heather's direction and grinned.
Heather edged closer to Tommy. "N-no thanks," she quavered. "Not right now."
"Kick back, Teddy. Just drink your brew and work on your own arrangements. This is Ray's chick, remember?" Tommy said. "Her folks kicked her out. She doesn't need any ass-bandit hustle."
Heather looked through the door. "Could I . . . could I put my suitcase away?" She edged toward the little bedroom.
"Yeah, sure," Teddy said. "Get out of the lady's way," he told Tommy. "We can, ahhh, interact later."
Tommy shrugged through the doorway, and Heather followed. There was a scarred dresser in one corner and a narrow mattress on the floor. Otherwise, the room was empty. Heather took the suitcase and slung it up onto the dresser.
"I'll talk to you later," Tommy said, then he turned to Teddy. He left the room, saying, "Where's Rick?" Heather listened to Teddy say something about birds and dinner. She sat on the mattress and looked at the dusty floor.
So this is how I s tart out on my own. Me and three weird guys and one old red dog. Beautiful
Heather knew it was pretty late. The summer sun was about ready to set when she smelled food. Tommy tapped on the door. "Want some dinner?" He had a plate in his hand.
How will I be able to pay them for food? I don't know when III have any more money.
"Come on. Rick got some extra, so we cooked it for you. 'S good," Tommy said, gnawing on a drumstick.
"I am kind of hungry. I didn't eat much breakfast," Heather confessed. She got up off the floor and let Tommy lead the way to the kitchen.
At first, Heather felt awkward, but Rick and Teddy put her at ease. "Just spit out the birdshot," Rick advised. "Don't bite down too hard." Heather took the offered plate and a can of beer and stood in the kitchen answering questions about the battle between Ray and the policeman. As she ate and drank and listened to the thigh-slapping laughter of the three young men, she even began to embellish the story. Before dinner was done, Heather had made the cop three inches taller and the golfers twenty years younger. Teddy stacked the plates in the sink and the four of them went into the living room. The gun rack now held a single shotgun, and the front door was closed.
Heather found herself laughing at the stories the three told on each other and on Ray. It seemed that Ray was always waiting in the car to iron out problems during the Great Power Mower Ripoff or the Twenty-Two-Tire Theft. Heather felt giddy. She finally realized it was time to say goodnight when Tommy showed her the grotesquely twisted pinkie he'd caught in a transom while burgling tools from a service station. She laughed until she fell off her cushion.
"Oh, oh, my god! I better go to bed," she said breathlessly. "You people are crazy!"
"Hey, shit, Heather," Rick said, "we ain't even told you about the night Tommy tried to rip off the county hospital when we took him to emergency room! The cops couldn't believe it was happening!"
Heather stood up unsteadily. "Oh, you better tell me tomorrow. I gotta sleep. I'm drunk!" she said.
Tommy lifted another beer can in salute. "If either of these two clowns bother you, just holler. There'll be somebody around."
"Thanks," Heather said. "Oh, god! I.. . I'm just wiped out!" She staggered off to bed and lay down before her skirt and blouse had hit the floor.
Heather knew she was dreaming. She'd had those sexy dreams before, usually after a long, hot session with Ray. She was dreaming about Katy, thinking about holding the frightened girl close and cuddling her soft nakedness until they were both safe from everything. Heather's pussy felt warm, as if she were wearing very tight pantyhose under slacks. She raised her hips to let Katy tug them down and the heat slacked off for a moment.
What was that strange, wet warmth around her pussy? It moved around, sometimes covering all of her love mound, sometimes warming a particular zone between her pussylips. It was too concentrated to be clothing or water or even a hand. It wasn't really part of the dream she'd been having, but dreams change so strangely.. . .
There was someone in the room with her, Heather realized. He's kissing my pussy! She woke up with a shock. There was a dull yellow light in the room, and a shadow over her. Heather was frightened for an instant, but the tongue traveling up and down in her cuntal creases felt awfully nice. The warm, slippery moisture traveled up and down so slowly and sensuously that she didn't want to resist.
Heather's clitty was standing up, beginning to glow with that tingly electric feeling she got when the little come-trigger was being teased. Pussyjuice and saliva drooled down her rectum. Every two or three seconds something warm and wet touched her puckered rosebud. Heather looked straight up over her head and saw two hairy thighs and a swaying lump the size of her fists dangling between them. She strained her eyes to find the long, thick spar of the cock.
Heather didn't know who it was, but her hips were beginning to roll in time to the long, slithering licks at her pussy. Up one side of her inner cunt petals, then down the other the tongue slid. The swirling felt luxuriously erotic. Heather drew her knees up, offering the little mouth of her pussy to the tongue.
"Ummmm-hmmmm," the man said, low and soft. The noise buzzed her pussylips lasciviously, sending little vibrations from her vagina to the erected button of her clitoris. Hands went under her thighs, and the fingertips spread Heather's pussy wider.
Heather wanted to feel that swirling tongue touch either of her hot spots, but it kept whirling past her clitty and the mouth of her cunthole. She whimpered a little, low in her throat. How long has he been kissing my pussy? Heather wondered. She reached up and touched the wrinkled sac above her head.
The room was warm, even six inches off the floor. Heather's hands were clammy, but the greasy slickness of his ball-sweat was wetter yet. Heather slid one hand around the middle of his cock. It was sweaty, too, but thick and hot and strong. Heather noticed the odor of his crotch. It was similar to the dusty, sharp scent of Ray's loins, but with different undertones. She wondered, Do all men's balls smell different?
The tongue in her pussy was approaching closer and closer to her clitty. Heather pulled the loose skin of the shaft back and forth, and the man settled down toward her face. Heather thought, Should I? He seems to expect it. She wished she could see better. She stuck her tongue out and licked at the center of the shaft.
The tongue in her crotch dove into her vagina. The sudden shock of the slippery organ entering her cunt made Heather's pussy mouth spasm shut. The hot little bead of her clitty throbbed when she constricted. The tongue slid out almost before Heather started moving her hips again. She squeezed the cockshaft in her fist.
That teasing tongue headed for her clitty, but as it had before, it slipped around the button. Heather winced when it slipped out of the groove. She was ready for it, all set to bear down and keep the contact going.
Heather pulled the head of the cock down toward her chin and bent her neck. She licked across the velvety surface of the knob. It worked-at least, it worked a little.
Every time Heather touched her tongue to the tip of his prick, whoever was eating her pussy sliced his tongue into her vagina. The wiggle he gave around the little muscle at the mouth of Heather's pussy tube made her gasp and pull her head back. As soon as she left his prick, his tongue would slither out of her hole and tease around her clitty again.
Heather hummed a little under her breath, a quiet little note like the buzz of high-tension lines. The pussyjuice and spittle had crept down and outward to smear her ass cleft. Heather bounced her bottom up and down. She wanted to feel that nice, slippery tongue flash across the tip of her clitty. The sensitive nerves between her pussylips had already told her how nice all those tiny, rough taste buds felt. Every single one of them left a sparkling little trail along her crevice. Whenever he licked with the flat of his tongue, then slithered around her vagina, he would return with the marvelous little organ pushed into a point that could come eerily close to her clitty without touching. He made only the barest contact with the pink hood of flesh over the button. Heather would have screamed for more, but she didn't want to break the breathy silence of the house.
Heather tongued his cockhead again. She decided she liked the taste. It was salty and warm, and the head itself seemed to soak up as much saliva as she could lift onto it with her tongue. It didn't stay completely dry . . . she hadn't been able to make it drip the way her cunny was dripping. She squirmed down until the balls hung over her forehead, with the wiry hairs just brushing her face. Heather lifted her chin and steered the prickhead to her lips.
The tongue touched her clitty. It was just a quick dab. She twitched. Heather sucked the cockhead in like a big piece of candy. The knob slipped into her mouth. She closed her lips around the narrower part just under the head.
The knob filled her mouth with meaty taste and the slight bitterness of the cock lube. Heather knew it was the same stuff she'd spread with her hand when she jacked Ray off. It was sticky and oily and it smeared around in her mouth and clung like it had to her fingers. Heather wrestled the end of her tongue around the knob. The thick, virile flavor of the droplet coated the inside of her mouth.
The man eating her cunny obviously like that. The hands under her thighs tightened and his face burrowed down between her legs. Heather felt his breath on the juice-slicked curves of her asscheeks. The chill made her ass and her pussy tighten up and tingle.
The man's mouth was wide open. His lips covered Heather's pussy from the mouth of her vagina to the pad over her pubic bone. That marvelous tongue slithered around, spreading cunt-juice and saliva all over the captured area. Heather felt him beginning to suck.
It was the most incredible sensation she'd felt yet. The whole top of her love mound tugged at the smooth skin of Heather's belly. She thought he would inhale all of her pussy. Even the rim of her vagina slipped past his upper lip and he growled.
The low-toned buzzing in her cunt drove Heather crazy. She sucked at his cock like a berserk vacuum cleaner. The knob went to the back of her mouth, swelling up bigger with every pulse of blood. She bobbed her head up and down, swirling her tongue in lusty circles on the in-stroke and sucking harder on the out-stroke. When Heather had seen Ray's cock swell up in her hands it had made her hotter, but feeling it happen in her mouth list a blowtorch in her cunt. She whimpered.
The sensuous combination made Heather raise her ass off the mattress. She pushed her pussy at him and ground her hips around in a circle. The whole squishy mass of her cuntlips was soft and pliable, molding to his mouth willingly. When the man rubbed his nose against the cream-slicked ring of her ass hole, Heather squealed.
Heather had had her own fingers and Ray's and even Katy's working at her pussy. Once, she'd even felt a cock sliding into the private little channel, but the soft, insistent thrusts of this tongue were more intense than either hands or pricks. The boneless organ flicked and writhed, seeking out every sensuous nerve in her loins. Heather's clitty was right in the middle of a sucked-up wad of cunt flesh, and the tongue speared again and again. Every flickering stab at her come-button made Heather arch her back and suck harder at his cock. It was heaven.
The feeling in her pussy was so intense that Heather had to let his prick slide out of her mouth. She liked sucking it and running her tongue around the flare of the cockhead, but the distraction in her cunt wouldn't let her do it justice. Her mouth was getting unreliable. The jolts of his nose against her ass hole and the big blasts of icy heat his tongue lashed into her clitty made her afraid she would clamp down with ecstasy and bite him.
Heather's cunt was pouring like the Amazon in flood. Her juice came in buckets, or felt like it did. The thinner, frothier bubbles of his spit coasted on top of her pussy cream. When he worked his fingers on her thighs, Heather felt them slipping and skidding on the copious smears of cunt-juice.
The man shifted his weight. Heather didn't know exactly what to do, but she helped when he lifted one of her thighs. She rolled with him. Both of them lay on their sides. Her hands were useless except to hold onto his legs. There was no point in trying to find his cock again. He slid one hand under Heather's ass and rolled further.
Heather wavered, but she sat up. She planted one heel on each side of his head and wobbled from side to side. She squatted down and took all the control the new position gave her.
Those incessant tongue-motions around her clitty and the way his lips worked all around her cunt flesh made Heather wonder if she could stand it. She had a quick image of falling off his face if the licking and sucking got too intense. Any minute, she thought.
The man pushed up on her ass with both hands. Heather wanted to cry when she felt his tongue desert her clitty. She settle back down.
"Ohhhh," she moaned. "Ohh, yesss!" His tongue slid full length into her cunt. It writhed like a magical snake, bending and circling, finding every nerve. Heather all but forgot about the silky thrills his tongue had slathered all over her clit.
His head seemed ready to slide right into her cunt. Heather welcomed it. If he his tongue does that much, what would his whole face do?
His chin ground back and forth on her clitty. Heather sat straight up, arching her back. Her tits jutted forward, gleaming in the candlelight. She saw the huge shadow her breasts cast on the wall. Heather bounced, and the fist-sized shadows of her nipples moved in ovals. She moved her ass in a lusty circle, and his nose pressed against her ass hole again.
Heather didn't understand how the man could breathe. She thought, I must be smothering him! He thrust his face harder against her ass and her cunt, and a gust of warm air heated the whole slippery zone.
Heather raised her hands to her tits. The same lewd feelings she'd felt when Ray fondled her ass joined with the other rising sensations when the man started kneading her asscheeks. Heather didn't know how long she could keep riding his face.
Her tits ached. Heather mashed them against her ribs, letting them spread and flatten until her cleavage was an inch-deep slit in the middle of her chest. She rolled them around. The constantly changing force of his chin against her clitty was only an instant away from making her go wild. Heather wanted to let the come flow, but the irregular stabs of his tongue into her cunt didn't give her a chance. Each second that he mixed up the strokes built her tension higher. Heather didn't know when to squeeze down or open up. All the maddening motions were too fast and too thrilling to give her cunt a clear signal to go off. Heather wanted his cock in her mouth again, jammed so deep she couldn't possibly bite it.
"Oh, God! Oh, my God," Heather said, trying to keep quiet. It was the strangest and hottest way she'd ever waked up. She shivered. Any second that tongue would stab into her cunt just as she was set, and she would go out of control around it. Heather bore down, trying to keep her cunt open as long as she could.
Her ass hole opened further. Heather felt the tip of his nose reaming in. The rubbery sides of her rectum gave way to it, then closed again when he pulled back for air.
Heather squealed. She wanted all her holes wide open. Every opening and every hard hot spot in her body wanted something, anything, as long as it was all at once. Heather was greasy all over with sweat and spit and frothing cunt-juice. Even her tits were sliding under her hands. She bounced, tapping her clit against his chin, forcing her cunt on and off of his tongue. A huge whirling ball of fireworks centered inside Heather's belly, just out of reach of his tongue. The hands roaming over her ass wound it up further. Her ears buzzed. A finger slipped into her cunt, next to his tongue. The finger and the tongue worked against each other, sliding back and forth faster, then faster again.
Another finger went into her ass, and Heather sucked for air. It moved in deeper, then slipped almost all the way out. Heather's whole body exploded. A million volts of electricity flashed through her. There was a lightning rod in her ass, soaking up the shock from her cunt and jolting it all through her body. The man tried to move his fingers, but Heather's holes were clamped around them like vises. The shuddering tightness in her cunt forced his tongue out.
All Heather could feel was the clit-shock and the marvelous, obscene feeling of fullness in her ass. She quit squealing. Heather needed all her breath to keep riding his face. The come went on and on, even without his fingers moving Heather felt her cunt and ass take over her whole body. She was nothing but flashing nerves wrapped around his fingers, clenching and expanding again and again. She fell onto her side, and the sudden emptiness in her crotch made the come peak higher. Heather passed out.
CHAPTER SIX
When Heather opened her eyes again, Rick was leaning over her. The candle flame fluttered. "I.. . I . . . Whew!" Heather said. She looked down at his prick. It was stiff as a poker.
Rick grinned. He said, "Hey, tiger, how you doin'? " He ran his hand gently over Heather's breast. "I never felt anybody come like that in my life!"
"Ohhh, that tongue . . . " Heather said. "Where did you learn how to do that? I.. . Jesus!" Her voice was quivery. She thought, How long was lout? Her whole body felt like jelly.
"You're a hell of a woman. I never tasted a pussy that nice," Rick said. He lay down beside her. "It was telling me exactly what to do." He ran his hand from Heather's waist to her thighs.
Heather shivered. Even the lightest touch threatened to bring back that huge come again. "Please.. . I can't stand it," Heather said. She tried to steer his hand away, but he caught her fingers and steered them to h s prick. She touched the head, then let her fingers curl around the shaft. "D-did you . . . ? "
Rick shook his head. "I will, though, as soon as you feel ready again." He grinned wide, then leaned closer to kiss her.
Heather smelled and tasted her own heavy juices on his lips. It made her heart thump faster. His tongue flicked into her mouth, and she sucked the oily-tasting pussyjuice off. It coated the roof of her mouth, complementing the last tingle of his cock lube.
A little flutter of guilt went through Heather's mind, but she dismissed it. Why shouldn't it turn me on? It turned Rick on to taste it right from the source, she thought.
Heather let her fingers play up and down the shaft of Rick's cock. It was long and strong and hot. She remembered how Ray's prick had always melted, even when he didn't go off. If it was hard for just so long, no matter what, Ray's cock would wilt like the last rose of summer. The way Rick's stayed stiff made it that much more interesting to Heather. She smiled at him. The loose, relaxed warmth in her loins started hinting at a return of arousal.
Rick nodded. The new beginning of Heather's sexy urges showed in her sleepy smile. He touched her titties, skimming his fingers across the blunt ends of her nipples. The pink points pulsed harder and Heather's cunt-juice started to flow again. Moving as slow as a lazy cat after dinner, Heather curled down toward his prick, wondering if Rick would let her suck him again.
He did, and now that Heather knew what it was like, she enjoyed it even more. Always try everything twice, Heather reminded herself. If you don't like it the first time, you may develop a taste for it.
This time, Heather wasn't hurried or worried. She didn't have to split her attention between his cockhead and her pussy. Rick caressed her ass lightly and Heather slithered around to offer her bottom.
It was better for her this time. Rick's cock hadn't shrunk at all since Heather had first tongued the tip. The knob was dark in the candlelight, as hard as a half-ripe plum. The collar around the edge of his glans stood out far enough for Heather to slip the whole tip of her tongue into the groove. She purred when he trembled at the sensuous licks she lavished on the knob.
Heather liked sucking Rick's cock. It didn't heat her instantly, but then, she hadn't found anything yet that did. It was a lovely, luxurious way to start.
Heather enjoyed the way the head compressed when she slipped her lips onto it and squeezed. She flicked her tongue into the slit at the end when it opened for her. Rick stiffened all over, and Heather thought of her own reaction when his tongue touched the tip of her clitty.
She decided that Rick deserved the best come she could give him. After the way he'd made her pussy go off, she wanted to make him shoot as long and strong as he possibly could. Heather concentrated on the head, kissing with a series of little pecks around the rim. After that, she slipped her tongue out to wet her lips thoroughly with saliva and slid them over the whole purple crown. Heather sucked in a little bit, and rolled her tongue around the velvety surface.
Heather felt it working. His glans swelled up and his fingers stopped their slow stroking on her ass. She worked up as much saliva as she could. Heather flooded the knob and drew her lips back and forth on the end-slope of his cockhead. Some saliva dribbled out of her mouth, but Heather worked it into the skin of his shaft with her fingers and thumb.
Rick started to whisper. She couldn't hear what he was saying, partly because he was speaking so close to her ass that his breath warmed her pussy, but mostly becauses all Heather's senses were focused on his prick. Heather found that Rick's discovery worked both ways . . . if she truly paid attention to his cock, it would tell her how to suck and lick it best. Heather realized that she wasn't just moving her lips and tongue up and down and around on his cock . . . she was loving at it. The warm, meaty bar of male meat was the most important thing in the world to Heather, and she was certain she could have kept sucking it until dawn.
The size and the tension of the hard column inside told her that Rick wanted her to take it deeper. Heather slid her mouth down until the tip of the knob pushed at the top of her throat. She made a swallowing motion with her tongue, and Rick moaned.
The low, deep sound of his voice excited Heather.
The inner folds of her pussy heated more under her breath. The sensuous nerves there came back to life after the furious tongue-lashing. Heather felt the inner lips beginning to puff up, and the cheeks of her ass grew more sensitive. Heather thought Rick could have moved his fingers an inch away from her ass and she still would have felt the motions he made.
Heather backed off from the base of his cock, leaving just the head in her lips. She rolled her tongue back and forth, letting spittle ooze from the comers of her mouth. Rick started moving his hips.
Heather hummed. The motion of Rick's cock turned the noise to a gargle, but he understood that she liked it. Heather moved her head opposite to his thrusts. She made the most convincing fuck-motions she could with her head.
Rick pulled away. Heather whined, "Ohhh? Why?"
Rick answered quickly, without a word. Heather reached for his cock again and he put one hand under her waist. In a single movement, Heather was up on her knees. She looked back at him, ready to plead for his cock.
Rick was kneeling behind her before she had time to say anything. Heather couldn't see much, with the flickering shadow from the candle hiding his prick from her, but she wanted to suck his cock more. She took a breath and he shoved his hips toward her ass.
Heather's jaw dropped. Her cunt was still wet from being eaten so long and so well, but her pussy muscle was tight from her come. No sooner did Heather fell Rick's hands on her hips than the blunt end of his prick moved against her cunt-mouth.
Heather groaned and bore down. Her head went down between her arms. The head popped past the tight ring at the mouth of her cunt and slid up the well-lubed sleeve of her cunt. Heather turned to soup all over. She nearly fell on her face. One second she was ready to beg for more cock to suck and the next, the cock was sliding ball-deep in her cunt.
Heather was soaked with drying pussyjuice, and the swift, deep entry made more gush out and renew the slipperiness. She felt the head of his cock go halfway to her throat. Heather felt pressure all through her belly. Even the tight ring of her ass hole rebounded out of the way of the swift slide.
"Ohhh, yeahhh," Rick said in a husky whisper. Heather knew that her cunt was wrapped around him like a glove full of warm butter. Rick rested inside her for a moment, soaking his prick in the lush juices of her cunt. Heather began to move under him.
Heather arched her back, and Rick's cock went deeper. She felt the scratchiness of his cock bush against her ass. Her cheeks slid up his belly. The head of his cock went even deeper. Heather felt the warmth of it glowing far inside her. With nothing stimulating her clit, Heather could concentrate on the fullness in her vagina. Rick held still behind her and she began to work her cunt around his prick.
She arched back, then pulled her hips down and forward. Heather closed her eyes, reveling in the way she could do it all herself. Rick didn't have to move a muscle. Heather knew she could bring both of them off just by rolling her ass back and forth. She wondered how it would be if she were on top. Thinking about that made her move her ass in a sensuous oval.
The feeling of his cockhead stirring around inside her belly almost took her breath away. Heather had to lock her elbows to keep from collapsing. She tried to keep the motions of her ass smooth and easy, but in no time at all she was flexing her asscheeks alternately against Rick's belly. His cock moved from side to side within her cunt, and Heather started to wind up.
Heather marveled at the way the muscular ring at the mouth of her cunt held the base of his shaft still. Every move of her hips centered on her cunt-ring, leaving the hot little band in one spot, as Rick's cock levered back and forth and up and down until she could barely stand it. Heather worried that she would start coming too soon and not be able to work his cock right. Heather wanted to feel a shower of semen washing into her, a shower that she pulled out of his balls by the lusty workings of her cunt.
Heather was slick with sweat again. Try as she did to excite Rick to coming, Heather was getting herself as hot as she wanted him to be. Rivers of sweat ran from her armpits, slicking her tits and making the whole top half of her body slippery as grease. The whole room smelled of the two writhing bodies. The odor of fucking was thick and heavy, but even that made Heather hotter.
Heather tried to hold off. She knew her orgasm wouldn't be anything like the gut-shaking come Rick's tongue had whipped into her, but she needed to stay in control. Heather had to stop for a moment to let the chilly waves slow down in her pussy.
Rick waited a second or two after Heather stopped moving, then bent over her back and cupped her luscious tits in his hands. He started moving his cock around in Heather's cunt, swirling even wider, more sensuous circles then she'd made.
Heather loved it. It was even more exciting than the feeling of doing his prick by herself. She felt the flare of his cockhead move down the length of her cunt sleeve, right to the rim of her hole. The emptiness inside her and the knowledge that Rick would fill it again excited Heather further.
With a slow, even glide, Rick slipped his prick back into the deepest part of her pussy tube. Heather shivered. The elastic ring of muscle at the mouth of her cunt memorized the shape of every fraction of his prick. Heather would have liked to hold still, but she had to move back against him.
The slow in-out motion started Heather's clitty going again. The lips of her cunt slithered along the sides of her come-trigger like wet satin. The tingly feeling accented the fullness in her belly. Heather wanted to cry from the sheer lewd beauty of it. She wished she didn't have to come and stop the lovely feelings.
But Heather did have to, especially when Rick handled her body so well. He moved, and with the in-stroke, his hands tightened on her tits. He pressed the warm mounds against her ribs. With the sweat and warmth of Heather's skin and his palms added to the expert way he rolled her nipples around, Heather's titties felt nearly as good as when she soaped them in the shower.
Heather twisted her shoulders when he pulled back, encouraging his hands. Heather loved the rubbing and pressing all over her titties and the sharper flashes when Rick squeezed her nipples. The hard pink buttons sent icicles of feeling down to her clitty. Heather felt the flow of her cunt-juice increase.
But her titties and the joy of his hands on them weren't all of it. Heather loved the long strokes of his cock in her pussy. The easy, swirling rotations of his cock were delighting her more with each second. The wiry little hairs around his prick made little circles and arcs across her asscheeks. Heather was in heaven when his soaring, dipping prick stretched the sides of her cunt ring this way and that. She ground her ass back against him, marveling in the flow of lewd sensations. They were close and wet and sweaty, and Heather felt Rick's cock merging with the walls of her cunt.
Heather hung her head down. She watched the way his hands kneaded at her tits. Rick's fingers were strong and careful. He mashed all of each titty into a flat, round mass of compressed feeling. Her nipples throbbed and poked out between his fingers. They looked dark as chocolate in the candlelight, but Heather felt them glowing like little stars. Rick flicked the tip of one finger across a nipple, and Heather squealed.
She couldn't help herself. There was no sound but their breathing and the squishing wetness of their joined flesh when she stifled her squeal.
Rick slowed down, pulled back more carefully. Heather's pussy didn't allow it. Heather waited until he started forward again, and she threw her ass back against his belly.
Rick gasped. He tried to slow down again. Heather felt how his prick had grown thicker and harder. She knew he wanted to slow down and make it last longer, but she pushed forward anyway. His cockhead popped halfway out of her cunt. Heather felt the narrowing at the very end. Her cunt was almost empty. Rick tried to ease back in, and Heather rammed back against him.
She was doing it with savage glee, forcing him closer to coming. Heather felt hot, lusty happiness build up inside her, even above the points his cockhead reached. Her chest was full of pride in the way she worked her pussy around his prick. Heather moved forward fast, then sucked his prick deep again.
Rick's hands clenched on her tits and stayed clenched. Heather grunted, loving the evidence of her power. She swiveled her ass as she moved forward and back. Rick started ramming his cock into her.
Heather wanted to scream with joy. She had his cock going the way he'd had her cunt going, wound up like a watch spring. Heather panted, little sobbing gasps shaking her throat. She bent her elbows.
Now Rick couldn't lean on her back any more. Heather pressed the side of her face into the mattress. She hunched back at him. Rick rammed his prick deeper than it had ever been. Heather felt the thumping mass of his cockhead bludgeon past her womb. She bit her fist, afraid to scream.
The hungry pride in her cunt wound higher. Heather was certain now. She was past caring if Rick wanted to come. She felt him go rigid all over, as stiff as a block of granite. She struggled for air. They both moved too fast and too violently to breathe regularly. Heather rammed her ass back against his belly twice for every thudding heartbeat in her chest.
Rick stopped moving completely. Heather thought her belly would split open. She kept the rhythm, throwing her cunt back at his cock. Rick shuddered, and the knob of his cock hit her womb harder.
Rick's fingers dug into her tits like iron claws. Heather begged with him, whimpering prayers over and over. Her teeth were clenched. One more shove against his prick, one more drag of cuntlips on her clit would send Heather off.
Heather rocked forward. The thrill of slippery cunt flesh on her clit shook her like an earthquake. Heather held herself forward, right at the end of his cock. The knob shivered. The first ripple of her come started in her cunt. Heather flew back, straightening her arms to add force to the stroke.
A jolt traveled up Rick's cock. Heather felt the wad rising in his come tube. The mass of seed bulged the center of the shaft outward, denting the tight grip of her cunt ring. Heather lost the sensation inside, then knew it had come when Rick's weight drove her onto the mattress. Heather let loose completely.
Rick rode her to the ground. His weight drove his prick like a spike into a rail. Heather's cunt clamped down like an iron band. Sheets of color flooded her vision. Her cunthole collapsed around his prick, then expanded with the driving force of his come. Heather melted into a mass of cunt flesh around him.
Her ass pushed back against his belly. Heather writhed under the hammering strokes of his cock. Rick grabbed her shoulders. They rolled over until Heather faced the ceiling, still impaled on Rick's cock. Heather's wrist knocked over the candle and the room went dark.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Heather didn't really want to go visit Ray in jail the next morning, but Tommy insisted. The visit turned out as badly as she expected.
Heather felt guilty at the thought of seeing Ray so soon after screwing his friend half the night. She hung back when the guard brought Ray out to the little glass-fronted booth. "No, you talk to him first," she told Tommy. Heather stayed off to one side, peeking at Ray. He didn't act the same as he had on dates . . . he swaggered, even sitting down.
She wondered why she hadn't broken up with him when he first started acting like a smart ass.
Tommy waved her over and Heather looked through the thick window. Even Ray's voice didn't seem the same. It wasn't the tinyness of the handset they had to talk through . . . it was his super cool attitude that changed his inflections. When she told him that she'd been thrown out of her parents' house, Ray said, "Well, things are rough all over, babe."
"It's your own damn fault you're in there," Heather snapped. "If I hadn't tried to save your stupid butt at the police station, I wouldn't be wondering where my next meal's coming from!"
"Hey, Heather, take it easy, please. I have a little something to help tide you over. Tommy's pickin' up a note for my mom and dad. They're holding a present I been workin' on for you. I was gonna see if Tommy could get me out with it, but.. . . Well, shit, babe, you need it more'n I do."
Heather looked down at the grubby little shelf that held the phones. "Humm. What is it?" Heather asked. "Some more tools? Rick and Teddy told me where you've been after you take me home at night." Don't, Heather! You shouldn't rub it in, she thought, but it was too late.
Ray's expression hardened. He stared at her for a long, cold while. "Okay," he said flatly. "You do whatever you want. I fucked up and got caught. If you don't want my present, then give it to Tommy, but check it out first. You can shit can the whole fuckin' thing if you want, but it's yours." He hung up the handset and stood up. The guard took him away without a backward look.
Heather felt bad. Why did I say that? Most of the time I don't get a chance to make a decision, but when I do, I screw it up. I could have at least made him feel better. I could have. . . . She stood to leave the visiting room. Tommy was waiting in the corridor, a slip of paper and a key ring in his hand.
Heather brushed past him. Tommy followed her to the car. "You wanna go to Ray's place?" he asked.
"What for? I'm sure I'm the last person they want to see."
"Well, I could take you back to the house, but that would be a lot of runnin' around. I got a note Ray wants me to deliver." Tommy stared at her.
Heather sighed. "Okay. I'll go with you." I shouldn't. I should leave whatever it is right there. She got into the car and sat like a lump of cement all the way to the Martin house.
Mr. Martin led the way to the basement. He flicked on a light and Heather gasped. "Oh, it's beautiful," she said. "Where did he get it?"
Mr. Martin said, "He wouldn't say. He's been refinishing it for the last three months. He just put the hasp on last week." He ran a hand over the brass-bound corner of the cedar chest. "It's pretty heavy. I better help you kids with it."
Tommy and Mr. Martin huffed and puffed up the stairs. Heather wondered what was in the pretty red-and-white box. She knew that cedar wasn't as heavy by itself as they indicated. How the hell is that going to help Ray get out of jail?
The chest nearly filled the trunk of the car. Heather ran her fingers over the glossy varnish. "He must have worked on it a long time," she said.
Mr. Martin nodded. "Yep. He shoulda kept on. I offered to buy him some furniture to refinish . . . give him a trade." He glared at Tommy. "Some people never will listen."
"We gotta be gettin' back," Tommy said. "Thanks for the help, Mr. Martin." He took Heather's elbow and steered her toward the front seat. Ray's father snorted and walked heavily back toward the house.
"Why don't we open it up?" Heather asked.
"Not here. I don't think Ray's pop would approve." Ray walked around the back, slamming the trunk lid. He started the car and took them back to the house.
It was very heavy. Heather tried to help Tommy carry it, but it was all she could do to lift one end out of the car. Rick helped them lug it into her room. Both the young men hung around, waiting for her to unlock the brass hasp. Heather took the key from Tommy and looked at them pointedly. If this is for me, I want to find out about it alone, she thought.
"Uh, I'm gonna go huntin', " Rick said. He looked at Heather to see if any holdover from the juicy warmth of their fucking was left in her eyes. She stared impassively at him and he left.
Tommy closed the door. "Did anybody hassle you last night?"
Heather glared at him. "Why?"
Tommy looked uncomfortable. "Oh, just.. . uh . . . Ray asked me to look out for you."
"Oh, I see," Heather said sarcastically. "Ray elected you president of my life. Do I get a vote?" She paused and narrowed her blue eyes. "I was kicked out on my ass yesterday, remember? My parents think I'm old enough to take care of myself . . . or would you like to play Daddy?"
"Take it easy, Heather," Tommy protested. "I'm not hasslin' you. Ray really does dig on you . . . that's why he gave you that." He waved his hand toward the chest.
"He wasn't too goddamn careful of my safety when he got redded out the other day! He nearly killed both of us! How long has he been taking that shit, anyway, Daddy Tommy?" She paused. "Come on, you walking chastity belt, tell me! I think he gave the goddamn thing to me because he won't be loose until it rotted to sawdust! They can give him thirty years, Tommy, and he didn't even think about it when he attacked that cop! He gave it to me because he owes it to me! Don't try to hand me a line of shit about how much Ray loves me. I know better!"
Tommy sighed and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "Okay, Heather. Y'see, I know he'd like your help, but he doesn't expect it. I been talkin' with him every day. I told him about you bein' locked up in the hospital. You don't have to do anything for him if you don't want. He's sorry, he really is."
"He should be! God, Tommy, if he hadn't taken those pills, I could probably even get a good night's sleep without some.. . . " Heather stopped. "I mean.. . . "
"Who was it?" Tommy asked. He stared at
Heather, then shrugged. "Well, I did tell you to holler if you wanted help." He turned and left the room.
"Don't worry!" Heather called after him. "I'll holler.. . but it won't be for help!" She slammed the door, then spun around to open the chest.
It looked full of towels, and not very good ones at that. They were cheap, threadbare white linen, folded into neat little rectangles.
Heather looked at them uncomprehendingly. What do I want with a bunch of cheap towels? I'm sure not going to lug them around with me!
She pulled a stack out, wondering if she'd find sheets or stolen napkins underneath. The cedar scent of the chest was nice.. .it almost drowned out the leftover tang of ball-sweat and cunt-juice that still hung in the air. Heather found a small steel box, like a fishing-tackle container, and a bunch of paper-wrapped parcels. She pulled the box out by the little loop handle. It was much heavier than the paper parcel she lifted out next. The heavy paper on the outside of the blocky package was sticky. Tiny crystals of grit rubbed off on her fingers.
Heather set the paper parcel on the dresser. She shook the little red tackle-box. Nothing rattled, though something heavy did move inside. She placed it on the corner of the dresser and opened the latch.
The wad of newspaper on top certainly wasn't what made the box so heavy. Heather pulled the newspaper away. She did a double-take. What? Why did Ray have a gun? Where did he get it?
Heather picked it out of the box gingerly. It was a blued automatic, large and heavy. She turned it over in her hands. The slightly oily surface was perfectly clean, except for the little whorls of her fingerprints. Heather set it down on the dresser.
Is it loaded? How do I find out? I'm not going to pull the trigger! Heather stared at it for a long while. She unwillingly memorized the shape. There was an oval of silver showing through a little window in the side of the slide, and the dark-wood grips were crisscrossed with little diamond-shaped points. She took one of the towels and wiped the pistol carefully, holding the loud end away from her all the while. Heather set it back in its little newspaper nest and closed the box. She was shaking.
Heather wiped the box off. She was about to put the gun back in the chest, but something stopped her. She decided to find out what else was in the cedar trunk.
There were nine of the paper parcels in all. Heather barely bothered to count them. How long has Ray had all this stuff? Down at the bottom of the chest she found two boxes marked, "9mm Luger, 50 ct." Shaken by the discovery of the pistol, Heather opened them. At least they were what they said . . . gold-tipped bullets, squat and ugly in neat little rows. The brown leather holster beside the bullets was empty, but obviously the right size for the pistol. Heather looked at the cleaning kit, then put the pistol back in the chest.
What if Ray had that the other day? Gawd, he could have killed that cop.. .or me, for that matter! What the hell makes him think Yd want a gun?
Heather closed the top of the chest after covering the tackle box with towels. "Uh, Tommy?" she called. "Could you come in here, please?" Maybe hell know what to do with that ugly thing.
"What is it, Heather?" Tommy asked, closing the bedroom door behind himself. He went straight to the paper packages and tore one open. "Fuck me! This is outtasite!" Dark green clumps fell on the floor. He counted quickly, hefting the torn parcel in his hand. "Nine fuckin' kilos! Nine kilos, Heather!" He reached into his shirt pocket and came out with a packet of cigarette papers.
"Wh-what am I supposed to do with this?" Heather quavered. "It's . . . Oh, shit!"
She was exactly right. It was shit, weed, grass.. . marijuana. Heather started hearing a TV newsman telling about her arrest, broadcasting from between her ears. Police today confiscated thousands of dollars worth of marijuana and weapons in the local area.. . . Heather wanted to walk to the police station and give herself up.
Heather watched Rick and Teddy and Tommy pass the joint around. The smell of the smoke had brought the other two into her room like homing pigeons. What the hell can I do with this? I have to get rid of it.
I'll be damned if I'm going to keep it around until I get arrested.
Maybe I could sell it to somebody.
But who? I know there are lots of kids at school who smoke, but none of them ever have any money. Besides, I'm more likely to get busted selling it than just sitting on it.
Maybe I'll burn it. Get rid of all of it. No, I don't think Tommy would let me do that.
"That's pretty good shit," Teddy said. His eyelids were puffy, and his eyes could pass for road maps. " 'S a good little lift for my tree house." He slowly rose from the floor, then stood vacantly for a moment. "Uh, thanks. Heather." He went outside again.
Rick looked at Heather. She could feel his glassy eyes roaming over her body. She crossed her legs and pulled her skirt down. "Yeah. I better go down to Willy's house. He says he wants to go to the beach." Rick floated through the door. Sparky followed him out of the house.
Heather sat on the edge of the cedar chest, looking at Tommy. She waited a minute or two, trying to settle an argument with herself. Tommy smiled up, his expression as blank and friendly as a calf s.
Heather took a deep breath. She stood up and opened the window, letting the remaining smoke out. "I want to sell it.. . all the grass, I mean."
"Sure." Tommy scraped some of the spilled weed into a little pile. "Another one?" he asked hopefully.
"I'll give you half the money if you know somebody that will buy it," Heather said. "I don't know how much it's worth, but we'll both have more than we have now."
"Okay." Tommy ruffled crumbs through his fingers and rolled a second joint.
"Can you sell some today? Can we start soon?" Heather asked. Is he going to get too high to do anything?
"Maybe. I have to talk to some people," Tommy said, blowing a needle-thin stream of smoke toward the open window. "I know some guys that keep askin' me."
How many of these friends does Tommy have? Heather wondered. If they 're like Teddy and Rick, they won't have a dollar between 'em.
"Yeah, if I take a little pinch out and go see 'em, they'll be beatin' on the door. This is righteous shit, Heather."
Wonderful! A whole bunch of dopers streaming in here. I have to find a place of my own. Heather decided. They'd make this house stick out like a sore thumb, if it doesn't already. She walked back and forth in front of Tommy. Heather looked at the key in her hand and worried.
If he knows where to sell the dope, maybe he knows somebody who wants a gun. Heather unlocked the cedar chest and dragged the automatic out.
"What's in the box?" Tommy asked. Heather didn't want to touch the weapon again. She opened the lid and showed it to him.
Tommy reached in with his right hand, the smoldering joint still pinched between his fingers. He took a drag and left the joint hanging from his lips. "Motherfucker!" he squeaked, holding the smoke in his lungs. He shifted the gun from hand to hand. "This is a nice piece, Heather! I didn' think Ray would ever give this sucker up!" He pushed a little button at the side and a long rectangle of blue-black slid out. One bullet showed at the top of the clip. He snapped the slide back and forth, then pointed the pistol at the wall. "Awright! You can be fuckin' Annie Oakley!"
Heather didn't want to be Annie Oakley. "You knew Ray had a gun?"
Tommy nodded. He pulled the hammer back and pointed it out the window. "Pow!"
Heather winced. "How much do you think it's worth?"
"Oh, no, Heather! You can't sell this! It's a beautiful gun, man!" He snapped his wrist up and down. "Pow! Pow!"
Heather was extremely nervous. She held out her hand and took the gun away from Tommy. He picked the clip of bullets out of his lap and handed it to her. "I don't want to keep it. I don't like guns." Heather held the pistol in her right hand and the clip in her left. The automatic was heavy even without the bullets, but unbalanced. The nose-heavy feeling of the lump of metal made Heather even more nervous. She put the clip back in and put the pistol away.
"Well, I could prob'ly get three or four kilos of weed for it in Mexico," Tommy said hopefully. "I might even get a couple grams of coke."
"Oh, Jesus," Heather muttered. She locked the gun into the chest again, this time making sure all the bricks of marijuana were wedged back in on top of the weapon. "Tommy, I don't want to be a dope dealer. I just need enough money to make it for a while. If you like the pistol that much, I'll sell it to you.. . . " But for how much? What is it worth? "How much did Ray pay for it?"
Tommy tried to conceal the look of sly cunning on his face. "It was just a company asset," he said. "Rick and he did a number on some dudes that wanted motorcycle parts and grass. They didn't have enough cash, so Ray took the gun." He nodded. "It might even be hot."
"Then what can I do with it? I don't want to shoot anybody," Heather said. Her voice was cracking.
"I thought you wanted to sell the weed. It's always a good idea to have somebody back you up with a gun. Besides, I can't sell anything if you keep it locked up all the time."
Heather felt everything piling up on her again. For just a minute or two, she thought she had a way out of her bind, but even that seemed to make more, deeper trouble. "I don't know what I'm going to do with it all," she snapped. "Jesus Christ! I might as well just throw it all out the window!" Heather flung herself down on the mattress, ignoring the way her skirt flipped up over her buttocks. She buried her face in her hands, worried and angry at the same time. Why do these clowns make themselves incompetent with their dope? I have a hard enough time when Vm straight!
She felt Tommy move closer to her. Heather tried to hate him for not taking her troubles seriously, but she remembered how she'd insisted she was a big girl, old enough to look out for herself. She almost wished she hadn't said any of that in her tantrum. She felt totally alone, ready to let loose with the tears of rage and fear she'd bottled up when she left her parents.
Tommy touched her shoulder. "Don't worry, Heather. I'll help you . . . I can fix it all up."
Bullshit! He's too goddamn high to think straight, Heather thought. She almost spoke. No, I'd better keep my mouth shut.
"I know I can sell the weed for you. I might even know a dude that needs a gun," Tommy said. He stroked her back. "You can rent a place with the money . . . I might even know some chicks you can move in with."
Heather let her tense muscles relax a fraction. The petting motions on her back were nice. Tommy crawled onto the mattress behind her.
"Really, Heather, I can fix it all up. I'll start on it today."
Heather didn't want to believe him, but her muscles loosened more. She let Tommy slide his hand down over her pantied bottom, then back up to her waist. No matter how bitter and angry she was, it felt nice to have Tommy touching her and speaking so soothingly.
"There, see, it's gonna be cool," Tommy said. He slid his hand off her bottom and squeezed the smooth pillar of her thigh.
Heather rolled onto her side, facing him. She slid her skirt down. Tommy smiled and moved to kiss her. She didn't resist.
Heather let it all go. Tommy's tongue was wet and slick. She sucked at it, sloshing her own tongue around it. He tasted like the acrid smoke she still smelled in the room. Heather let her body mold against him. She was glad to have someone holding her as if he cared. She wasn't thinking sexy thoughts at all.
But Tommy felt it as sexy. He rolled half on top of her, sliding his thigh between hers.
The pressure against her pussylips made the grateful warmth flare up in Heather's pussy immediately. Heather wondered if the smoke that had floated around in the room had made her high, too. One second she was hugging and kissing him, almost like a sister, and then she was rubbing against his leg. His hands went into the elastic of her panties, and she felt them expertly stripped away.
Heather melted inside. She worked her hands at the top of his pants, and the jeans seemed to disappear. They were down around his ankles with no time lost. Heather still wore her skirt and her thin blouse, the one that let her nipples jut through like twin marbles, but the center of her body was naked against the long, up-spearing length of his cock. Heather put her leg over his hip and reached down to guide his cockhead toward the ready, receptive slit of her cunny.
She wasn't very wet yet, but the magic sliding of his hands and cock against her skin made Heather feel her pussy mouth go loose, opening slackly in preparation for his cock. The head of his prick slipped against her vagina, and with just a tiny mutual wiggle, it was inside her.
Heather gasped when she felt the easy instant entrance. She pulled her face back from his shoulder and looked at him. Tommy smiled and nodded, closing his eyes.
"I love the way you did that," Heather said. "We really fit nice." She let her hand rove over his ass, barely suggesting that he should slide more of his prick into her cunny.
Tommy pulled at her bottom and leaned his shoulders away from her. With a simple rolling motion, Heather was sitting on top of him, with half his cock still gently imbedded in her cunt. Tommy pushed up as she settled, and the warm glide of his prick into her pussy-channel melted her belly into one warm mass of love.
Heather decided immediately that she liked being on top. Tommy's hips were wide enough to fill the whole gap between her thighs. They supported her beautifully. His prick wasn't the longest Heather knew of, but when Heather pressed her pussy clear down against his pelvis, it filled her fine. She moved forward and back a tiny bit, bearing down inside, and his pubic bone touched against the tip of her clitty. Heather moaned and flexed her legs.
The motion of her legs moved Heather's cunny from side to side, tipping her pelvis like a boat riding at anchor. Her cunt sleeve molded to Tommy's cock, fitting it like paint clinging to the Tower of Pisa. She loved the way it wobbled around inside her. Heather held onto his shoulders and moved further.
The slow, sensuous swaying of her body made Heather's tits slide against the thin fabric of her blouse. She looked down toward their linked loins, but all she could see was her skirt covering the junction.
Tommy lay on his back with a saintly smile on his face. His eyes were closed. Heather thought he looked like he was sleeping, except for the smile and the tiny jiggling motions of his prick. Each little bounce of his body under hers made Heather's clitty flash. She closed her eyes and bumped up and down with him.
Heather had to concentrate totally on his cock, but it was worth it. She moved his hips with a tipping shake, like a flour sifter. With every second bounce of Tommy's prick, another little jet of fluid wet her snatch. The combined motions of their bodies were small enough to be mistaken for teasing, but Heather's pulse rate increased. Even the sensuous secondary jiggles of her tits added to the sensations.
Heather wondered if she could touch more of Tommy's body, but she kept both hands clenched on his shoulders. She couldn't even raise her hands to her own nipples, but Tommy could.
Heather felt ghostly little touches on her waist. The tingles went to her ribs, then to the sides of her breasts. Tommy fondled her titties gently, sleeking his hands back and forth. His touch went under and above each mound, slower and more sensually than their welded hips moved. Heather bit her lip, trying to contain the rising warmth inside her body. It was almost too nice for her to go on with, jiggling up and down like a tiny motor while Tommy's hands searched around her nipples and caressed her breasts. Heather wished she were naked, but she couldn't begin to unbutton her blouse. She didn't even know how long she could keep moving up and down and circling around on his prick.
Tommy's hands left her titties. Heather let a little sigh escape. She didn't want Teddy to hear her in his tree house. Heather tried to keep quiet. It was a squeak of disappointment at feeling his hands leave her titties.
The disappointment didn't last long. Tommy worried at the buttons of her blouse. Heather wanted to help, but she was hanging on tight, afraid to lose her grip on him. Even her cunny tube was starting to cling to him, molding tighter around his prick as the rod started to swell up.
The hard arch of bone under her clitty was sending Heather higher. The blunt thuds of the bone against her come-trigger sent strange, chilly tongues of flame licking along her spine, almost as if her whole body was about to freeze to him. Heather was coagulating around his cock like jello setting. The shimmering little shots of electric sensation in her nerves reminded her of the dancing light in a plate of cherry-red wigglies.
Heather's skin chilled when Tommy opened her blouse. She'd started to sweat under her clothes. Heather didn't mind the added wetness around her pussy . . . that made her thighs and buttocks feel like sensuous extensions of her cunt. Around her armpits and breasts it was like a coating of thin oil, and Heather didn't need that much warmth so close under Tommy's hands. She was glad to feel his breath raise goose pimples when he blew at her nipples. The rims crinkled up instantly. He touched each nipple and squeezed.
Heather bounced higher and faster on his cock. Her thighs made slapping sounds against his legs, and the cheeks of her ass jiggled. The lush mounds of her bottom rippled as Heather swiveled as she ground and bounced on him. Heather knew she only needed to lean forward a bit further to increase the shocking heat on her clitty, or bend back to concentrate on her cunthole.
She leaned back a little. Heather had to let go of Tommy's shoulders, but the dangerous balancing made her feel lewder. Heather twisted her shoulders back and forth, and Tommy kneaded her breasts.
"Oh, it's so good! Tommy, it's so goddamn good,"
Heather hissed. "I feel like we could go on all day!" The round feeling of fullness in her cunt and the lovely, slippery pressures on her tits made Heather ready to ride his cock until it wilted dead away. She pushed her bottom forward and revealed in the sliding of her ass on his hairy thighs. Tommy let go of her left titty and put his hand on her pussy.
The top of her labia was already puffed out, wet and red. Heather couldn't see it past her skirt, but she knew by the feeling that the whole zone was as eager and juicy as the pit of her cunt. It had to be red . . . Heather was smoldering wetly, like a green branch on charcoal. Heather held her breath, waiting for the magic touch.
Tommy's fingertip found her clitty. Heather accelerated like a rocket. Her excitement increased dozens of times. Tommy's middle fingers went on each side of her clit. He pushed her cuntlips back and forth. The whole steaming area around her cunt gushed juice, and Heather started to come.
All it took at the end was those two fingers on her clit. Heather felt the first pulse race up her spine. Her nipples throbbed. She clamped down on his prick. Her pussy tube sucked at him like a milking machine.
The rapid rise in the tension of Heather's cunt-ring made his cock feel twice as thick. When she leaned from side to side, her cunt mouth locked his prick erect, making it stand still while her innards moved around it.
Heather circled around and around, out of control. She looked down between her tits, and she could see the lump his cockhead made at the front of her belly. It was too much for her to take. Heather had to bend forward again.
The leaning pushed both her tits into his hand again. Her clitty bored between his fingers and pressed against his pubic bone. Tommy's cock was stretching her whole cunt out of shape when she leaned over. Heather couldn't bear the thought of stopping. How could she keep going?
Tommy showed her. He began moving in long, strong strokes that lifted his ass a foot off the bed. Heather squealed when she teetered. He fell back down. Her cunt clung tight to his prick, and his cockhead jolted clear to her heart when she slammed down on top of him again.
Tommy grunted, throwing his cock up into her cunt. Heather was coming like a madwoman, going higher and higher with every stroke. The timing was perfect, in when she clenched tight, lifting her high, then down when the grip of her cunt slacked. Every impact against the mattress shoved Heather's cunt further down on his prick. She thought she'd absorb his whole body.
Heather went forward again. She had to clutch at his shoulders. Tommy's thrusts were like huge pistons ramming into her cunt, then jerking her back down until she. rebounded off his belly. Her clitty was about to burst from the crazy internal pressure. Those swift drops and impacts and the motion of his cock in her cunt forced Heather's breath away. She couldn't tell if Tommy would ever come. She was totally involved in the incredible ramming and pounding and beating of the come that racked her body.
Heather begged. She couldn't form a whole word, but she whimpered and wailed. She couldn't even catch her breath. Her muscles were tightening and loosening in time to her orgasm. She was past even the ability to pull her cunt off of his cock and stop him from driving her insane. Even after Tommy's hand had left her cunt, Heather kept on.
Tommy grunted with effort. Heather listened to his panting. It was like a beached seal's great, pained breaths. Heather wanted to help him, but she couldn't. She swayed back and forth, about to fall off his prick. Tommy let go of her tits and grabbed her hips.
Tommy's cock lifted Heather and his hands held her high. He pulled back until only the head of his cock rested inside her cunt. Heather felt the inner suction tearing her inside-out.
Wham! Tommy threw his prick upward and jerked Heather's hips down. Her cunt crashed against the base of his cock with a meaty slap. She screamed.
Wham! Another long, fast out-stroke sucked at her guts. Tommy's hand dug into the cheeks of her ass. The whole sopping lining of her cunt vibrated when his cock skidded outward, then exploded when he shoved back in.
Wham! Wham! WHAM! Tommy fucked at Heather's cunt like a jackhammer. Her body spasmed. The blasts of cunty release chased through her like waves in a pond. Tommy's prick flogged flashes of orgasm into her. Heather couldn't unwind from one before his cock dragged another from the pit of her cunt, then he immediately rammed her full of cock again. Heather screamed, "Noooooo-oooo!" She knew she would die. She had to.
Wham! then a pause. Wham! then a longer pause. Wham!
Tommy was slowing down. He couldn't drive Heather as high off the bed. Heather felt him shaking under her. His whole body was rigid, but he still tried to fuck furiously into her. Wham! Wham! twice quickly. Heather felt him start to pull back. With his prick still half-depth in her cunt, he pulled her back down. Heather collapsed onto his chest as the first burst of come ripped up into her cunt.
Heather didn't know how he did it. Her cunt was so tight that she was sure she'd strangled his prick. She let the mystery go, and let Tommy come.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Heather argued with Tommy Monday morning. "No, dammit, Tommy, I won't have you carrying the grass in the car when you take me to school. I didn't ask to have that stuff unloaded on me, and I'm not going to risk getting busted. My folks would leave me in jail to rot."
"Jesus, Heather, if we don't get to the dude before Ragsdale does, he'll spend all his money on speed. I could only barely get Susie to persuade him to buy any weed at all. It's gonna be close enough without runnin' all the way back across town."
"Well, if he can't wait, just find another customer. It's not worth getting busted for. I only have to wait three days to get my diploma. I'm not going to throw that out the window so you can sell the grass faster," Heather said. "Now, if you have to meet him, stall him. I won't unlock the chest if you can't do it."
"Ahh, shit! All right. We might never get another chance to get six bricks off at once," Tommy warned. "It might take a month to sell all of it."
"I've got the time, Tommy. With no money, I'm sure not going anywhere." And that includes college. Heather thought bitterly. Everything I ever wanted is shot to hell
Monday afternoon, Heather felt better. She still hadn't changed her mind about getting into a car with bricks of weed in it, but the counselor had called her into the office right after her homeroom. She could hardly wait to tell Tommy and Teddy and Rick the good news.
The expressions on Tommy and Rick's faces stopped her cold. She spotted the car and ran toward it, but she slowed to a walk when she saw the glares the pair wore. "What happened?" she asked.
"Shit! That mother-fucker! Goddamn Susie set the dude up!" Rick snapped.
"What? Were the cops there?" Heather asked. A lump of ice appeared in her stomach.
"Naw," Tommy said. "It's too much of a piss off to even talk about." He dug into his shirt pocket and dragged out a fat wad of bills. "Here's the money. You can count it and do the split.. . it's all there."
Heather got in, sliding to the center of the front seat. "The money's here, and there weren't any cops . . . what happened?"
Tommy started driving toward the house. "Aw, we just missed the biggest fuckin' burn I ever saw. Susie, this junkie broad Teddy used to go with, turned me on to a guy that wanted to buy a whole shit load of speed."
"Yeah, I know that much," Heather said. "That was the guy you went to meet."
"Yeah, and that was why we had to meet him early," Rick said. "Susie told us that he wanted speed because it's easier to stash, but he might take some weed at a good price."
Heather counted the money while she litstened. Wow! This is enough to live on for a month, even after I split it with Tommy! Uh-huh."
"So I hauled ass back across town and got the shit after I dropped you off," Tommy said, biting off the words. "I picked up Susie and went to meet the dude. Rick came along to kind of back me up.
"I brought the shotgun, just in case, you know? I kept it out of the way, so the dude wouldn't get spooked. I wish I'd had the fucker right out in the open," Rick said.
Tommy went on. "We see the cat, and Susie takes him a pinch to check out. Susie just walks back across the park with the money, and we hand her the weed. Then, just when I'm getting ready to take off, she says, 'Go around the corner and keep an eye on this cat. He's weird.' "
"So we do it. I couldn't understand what she was about, since the guy couldn't have been more'n twenty feet away when she told us to stick around. There was only two parking spaces between us, you know?"
Heather handed half of the money to Tommy. He crammed it into his shirt pocket without counting. "Thanks. So we run around the block to his car and this yellow VW pulls up. Rick figured it was gonna be a switch, but I know it's this junkie from out at the beach, Ronnie Ragsdale."
"So? Why wouldn't he be in it with Susie's friend?" Heather asked. "I don't understand."
Rick broke in. "Ronnie doesn't need to deal. He's richer'n shit. He writes checks for his junk, you know? I mean, he is really, really loaded."
"So I figured Ragsdale was gonna sell the cat some speed. We keep watching, and Susie gets a wad of money this fuckin big-" Tommy held up a loosely-clenched fist "-and hands it to Susie. She goes over to the junkie and he pulls a gun, a big fucker, and points it at her. The cat that we sold the weed to panics, and he hauls ass, and Susie takes off with the junkie! Wouldn't that gripe your ass, Heather?"
"Why should it?" Heather asked. "Really, guys, nobody got hurt, and nobody got busted. So what if the guy lost money on the speed deal? That stuffs bad for you, anyway."
"Listen to her . . . the high-school tycoon," Rick said. "The thing is, Heather, we could have had that money. We should have had it. Susie could have told us the junkie was going to rip him off. I had the shotgun right there.. . she didn't know it, but it was ready."
"What? Are you guys crazy? You want to have a gunfight in the park to get a couple hundred dollars more?" Heather asked. She was shocked. "Look, Tommy, I just gave you over seven hundred. Why get killed for a little bit more?"
"We need that money, Heather. I talked to a lawyer about Ray today," Tommy said. "It's gonna cost two grand to get him off with even a light felony. He's our partner!"
Heather shook her head. "You are crazy. There's a lot more important things than risking your life to get anybody out of jail.. .especially if it's just to get a lawyer. Let's go back to the house and have a beer and figure this out."
"I got it figured out," Rick said darkly. "I figure I'm gonna kick Susie's ass for not tellin' us she had a fish on the line."
"Please, guys, calm down," Heather said. She put a hand on each man's thigh. "We can figure out something. Even just selling the rest of the grass will make a good down payment." She slithered her hand up to Rick's crotch and felt the stirrings of his cock. "When I get a job, I'll even give you the rest of the money to get him out."
Tommy was still tense, but he put his right hand on her thigh, sneaking up under her skirt. "Maybe. That might be a long time, though." He tickled his fingertips under the elastic of Heather's panties. Tommy cleared his throat. "We've been thinking about the rip off too long today anyway. What say we get a couple of beers and stop in the park?"
Heather unzipped Tommy's fly and touched the lengthening warmth of his prick. "If you think we need the beer."
Rick said, "I can do without it." His hand sneaked under Heather's thigh, cuddling the broad, silky curve of her ass-cheek.
The place Tommy found was on the far side of the park from where Heather and Ray had been surprised by the policeman. The three of them were already giggling and flushed as they piled out of the car and headed down a tree-filled canyon. Heather's pussy was thoroughly wet. She wondered, briefly how she could handle them both. Anything's better than having them both ready to play gunfighter.
The little clearing they stopped at was near the top of a hill. The grass in the center was brown from lack of water, and well trampled down. Heather looked from Tommy to Rick and back again, her eyes big. "I . . . don't know how this is going to work," Heather said. "I guess I could maybe . . . " She started unbuttoning her blouse at the bottom, looking at the ground.
"Don't worry," Tommy said. "We'll find something to do between turns." His voice was high-pitched. He sounded nervous. Tommy took his shirt off hurriedly and spread it on the ground.
Rick stepped up and helped Heather with her buttons. She stood between the two men, smiling bravely. The nervousness quivering in her belly added to the tingle in her loins. Her nipples were already at full attention when Rick opened the blouse. She let Tommy take it from her shoulders.
Tommy had already skinned his pants down. He took Heather's skirt off and slid her panties down while Rick undressed. As soon as Heather was naked, blushing in the little clearing, Tommy put his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth.
It was a novel sensation for Heather. She hardly ever kissed anyone shorter than she was, and she had to bend down to meet Tommy's lips. She remembered that she'd never kissed Tommy standing up before.
The head of his cock grazed the very top of her pussy-slit. Heather felt her cream start oozing. She spread her feet a little further, which lowered her pussy enough to avoid the touch of his glans. Almost before she knew it, Heather felt Rick's body pressed full-length behind her.
"Umm, guys," she started. Tommy put a hand on each side of her face and pulled her mouth against his again. Rick's hands stole around to her tits. With a sudden shock of horny helplessness, Heather realized she was getting lewder every instant.
Two men . . . two cocks for me at once, she thought. The hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end.
Heather sighed when Tommy let go of her face. The center of her cunt was sopping wet. She bent her knees out to the side, moving her hips in a sensuous, wave-like rippling. The long, hot length of Rick's cock was sliding up and down in her ass cleft, and Tommy's prick alternately covered and uncovered her clit. Heather reached around to Tommy's ass and pulled him close against her. Tommy grunted, bending the head of his prick down. With a gasp, Heather felt it skid past the mouth of her cunt.
Rick tightened his grip on her tits. She was sandwiched tight between them. With a sudden squirting motion, Tommy pulled his cock back just as Rick lifted her. Heather felt the head of Tommy's cock wedge against the middle of her cunthole. "Ohh, fuck!" she whispered. "Yes, Tommy, yes!"
Rick's hands held her upright. Heather's feet left the ground. She raised her legs and wrapped them around Tommy's ass. With a sideways wiggle, she helped his cock to slide in, then felt it reach up past her womb in one swift, hot motion.
Heather was well and truly impaled on Tommy's cock. She felt Rick still pressing his prick up and down in the valley between her asscheeks. Heather wished she could take him in, too. Something inside icy her knew that she could communicate the delicious feeling of the open-air fucking to Rick if she could only wrap herself around his cock.
It didn't work that way, though. Heather felt Rick's hand leave her tits. He slid them down to her hips, and suddenly Heather's whole weight rested on Tommy's cock. She gasped, amazed at the strength of his organ. The little bar against her clit and the hot meat inside her cunt were all that held her off the ground. She let her head loll back and gripped his shoulders for all she was worth.
Heather almost forgot about Rick, what with the incredible eroticism of swiveling suspended on Tommy's cock. She vaguely felt the hot length of prick disappear from her ass cleft. The thick, strong presence in her cunt was more than enough to make up for the loss.
But it was only temporary. Heather leaned back further, knowing that Rick would catch her if she started to fall. Her fingers were laced behind Tommy's neck, and Tommy's hands stroked and squeezed her tits as if each luscious breast could come alive and kiss his hands. The tender tips of her nipples were pushed out over an inch, pointing at Tommy like fingertips.
Suddenly, warm wetness joined the kneading hands on her asscheeks. Rick had gone to his knees behind her. Heather's cunt tightened instantly when his lips and tongue began bathing her ass-cheeks. The tall blonde pulled herself upright again, offering the long, narrow valley between her ass-cheeks to Rick's mouth. The spit-wet slitherings of his tongue woke her whole ass up. Heather wished there were some way for the marvelous tonguing to center on her clitty while a cock dipped in and out of her cunthole.
Rick loved at her ass. He kissed and licked and caressed it until Heather felt the whole broad curvature of her cheeks soaked with saliva, then he started on the gray-pink rim of her ass hole.
The shocking vulgarity of his tongue plunging in and out of her ass made heat rise up in Heather's throat. If she thought about it, the idea sickened her, but experiencing the warm, slippery licking excited her incredibly, with an obscene, shivery tingle that raised goose bumps all over her skin.
Heather had to work to hang on now, so her clit didn't get as much hot rubbing from Tommy's belly. The pressure in her cunt made up for the loss of the clit-rubbing, and the slippery tonguing around her ass was an ecstatic bonus.
The whole front of Tommy's body was soaked with Heather's cunt juice. Heather moved up and down, gauging how far Rick's head could follow.
The whole length of her pussy channel throbbed like a second heart. All three of them could hear the squishing sound of Heather's juices running out around Tommy's prick. Even Rick's face was shiny with the rivers of cream squirting out of Heather's pussy.
Heather's ass was sopping with the triple combination of saliva and sweat and cunt juice. She pulled herself tighter against Tommy when she felt Rick's mouth leave her ass. The plunging of the tongue in her rectum had turned all of her muscles to mud. Heather thought she would fall when Rick moved out from under her.
Heather let herself relax, leaning back again when Rick's arms went around her. She wondered what he would do. Her cunt was so dreadfully full with Tommy's pistoning prick that she could hardly stand the thought of Rick missing out. Each time Tommy's cock thrust up into her cunt, both of her holes relaxed to let him go as deep as he possibly could. His hands on her tits reinforced it, spreading the sensation all over her body. Heather threw herself into it, rocking the top of her cunt-mound against Tommy's belly, then shoving her ass back at Rick.
The prick behind her went high along her ass cleft, then skidded low. Rick moved down as Heather went up, then up as she rolled down. Both cocks were moving against, around, inside her in the same rhythm. The excitement in Heather's crotch more than doubled with the doubled feeling of two cocks pressing against her, inside and out. Heather moaned loud, then louder. She lost track of what she was saying.. . it was a sobbing prayer for both men to feel as hot as she herself did. Rick moved his prick higher than he had before, then lower than before, then up again. Heather thought her ass would split open!
Rick's cockhead wedged into the center of her asshole. It felt hundreds of times bigger than Tommy's prick. Heather was sure she would split, tearing at the top and bottom of her asscrack, but the broad, blunt end of his cock wouldn't pull out. Heather yelled, begging Rick and Tommy to stop.
They didn't. Tommy slowed down, holding Heather's asscheeks open for Rick. Both men handled her, Rick with his fingers prying between her tits and Tommy's chest, and Tommy with his fingers spreading her ass for Rick. Rick swiveled around, corkscrewing more of his prick into Heather's ass with every squirm. Heather didn't know if the tears on her cheeks were from pain or the overload of pleasure in her crotch. Tommy shifted his fingers closer to her rectum and pried.
Rick's cockhead slipped in.
Heather's ass rebounded, tightening around the neck of Rick's cock. She put her head on Tommy's shoulder, glad for the easing of the pleasure and pain in her asshole. The relief felt so wonderful that Heather kissed all over Tommy's face and neck.
The fuck-motions stopped completely when Rick got his cockhead into Heather's ass, but it didn't last. Tommy began moving slow and easy again, keeping his cock buried deep inside her cunt. Heather tried to tuck her clitty up against his belly, hoping to get her splitting ass away from Rick's cock. It didn't work.
Both men moved in tiny fractions of strokes. Rick worked more of his prick into Heather's ass, then more again. Heather thought it felt like a yard of cock, but she could feel how little was actually in her. The ridge around Rick's cockhead had gone less than halfway up the shaft of Tommy's cock. Heather measured the penetration by the way the pressures changed on either side of the thin membrane separating her ass hole from her cunt. Rick rested while Tommy kept bobbing his cock up and down. Heather's pain faded.
Her ass still hurt, but the nice feelings in her pussy slowly rose up again and canceled the pain out. Rick fingered her nipples, letting Heather feel the sensuous connection between both holes and the pink buttons at the tips of her tits. With Tommy's hands caressing her cheeks, Heather let herself relax enough to enjoy the lovely fullness in her pussy.
Heather began to climb back up the exciting slope of her orgasmic buildup again, but it was different. Rick was still working his cock deeper, sliding back a fraction now and again, and Heather felt the lusty agreement between her ass and her pussy. She tried to keep her clit against Tommy's belly, but the rising fullness in her ass was becoming too nice to ignore. Heather moved back toward Rick, then forward at Tommy. Over half of Rick's cock was in her ass hole now, and Heather decided that she liked it. The strange lewdness of being buggered appealed to her more and more. Heather knew she wouldn't care for a continuous affair of nothing but ass-fucking, but it did have its points. She experimented with shifting from side to side, and it was wild. Both cocks were touching opposite sides of the same thin membrane inside her.
Heather gulped. It was almost scary when she felt how each prick made her hotter in different ways. Rick and Tommy moved further and further, stroking back and forth in her ass and her cunt. Heather rocked forward and back, loving the fullness in her cunt when she moved toward Tommy and relishing the pressure in her ass when she moved toward Rick.
It worked both ways. Heather thought Rick's cock was reaching halfway to her throat. She knew the head wasn't sunk as deep as in her ass as Tommy's prick was in her cunt, but the back channel was smaller and tighter. When Rick pulled back, the sudden emptiness up inside her ass made Heather quiver all over. The little ridges inside the shaft of his prick made her rectum thrill. It was like a little motor shaking the sides of her asshole. The shivery, simmering feeling went wiggling up to her brain, and Heather began moving faster. The novelty of being so full of cocks made her react more strongly with every second.
Heather moved up and down, trying hard to keep a steady cuntal beat around Tommy's cock and an even milking pressure around Rick's. It was impossible. Tommy and Rick were fucking her at the same speed, but the overloaded nerves in her crotch wouldn't straighten out the flashes of heat fast enough to tell Heather which way to go. All she could do was hang on with her arms and legs and cunt and ass hole while a spinning ball of heat swelled larger and larger in her belly.
Both men were grunting as loud as Heather now.
Tommy's legs wavered under the strain of holding her off the ground, but Heather knew the two of them couldn't drop her. Heather sucked at Tommy's mouth like a berserk milking machine. She couldn't tell if her ass would explode with the splitting, shitting feelings or her cunt would collapse around Tommy's prick. Both cocks pumped up and down like oil rigs, drilling into Heather and sucking her guts down and outward. Every plunging stroke of the cocks drove the whirling knot of come-tension closer to her brain. The knowledge filled her torso like the two pricks filled her ass and cunt Heather couldn't even kiss Tommy any more. The three of them were rigid and sweating, slippery as the walls of Heather's cunt and hot as the fiery rim of her ass hole. They were a huge, slippery sandwich, grunting and thrusting in the clearing.
Rick's hands crushed her tits. His chest was glued to Heather's back. Tommy's hands clawed into her asscheeks. Her clit and cuntlips ground against his pubes. Every stroke of Rick's cock in her ass drove Tommy's prick against her womb. The dull thudding at her cervix amplified the rubbery heat at her ass hole and the brilliant flashes from her clit. Heather couldn't breathe. Her heart filled her whole chest, thumping desperately. Both her holes clamped down like red-hot bands, and she started to come.
Heather felt the first burst of Tommy's come blast high into her cuntsleeve. The powerful, jerky strokes of Rick's cock stopped for an instant, then gobs of semen started filling Heather's ass hole. Both men threw their cocks savagely into her crotch, filling her with gallons of come. Heather felt it spattering against her womb and swelling her ass tube.
Heather's arms and legs locked. Rick's belly slapped against her ass for hours on end. Her heart thumped like it wanted to tear its way out of her chest. Her cunt sucked at Tommy's cock until every drop of come drained out. Heather's mind disappeared. She was all cunt and all ass and totally full of cock. She turned from soft and wet and open to hard and full and tight hundreds of times before the suction started in her ass and pussy. Heather passed out before the men pulled out and laid her on the dead brown grass of the clearing.
CHAPTER NINE
This is too much to pay for rent. Heather told herself as she hobbled into the house. She wanted to wash herself and inspect the raw, torn-feeling rim of her rectum. It's not that I don't like it, but.. .
Both Rick and Tommy looked ashamed of themselves. They'd lain exhausted next to Heather for ten minutes before they realized she was still unconscious. Rick had put her skirt and panties back on, and Tommy was buttoning the sleeves of her blouse when Heather slowly woke up. They avoided each other's gaze.
"I'm glad to hear about that scholarship you got, Heather," Tommy called as she walked into the house. "You're just about set now, aren't you?"
Heather stopped. "Yeah, if I can make it through the summer. I figured out I'll need a job by the end of July if I can't find something to supplement the weed money." She looked at Rick and Tommy where they stood in the yard. "Excuse me, guys. I have to wash up. We can talk a little later." Her wavy hair had leaves in it, and she seemed to have trouble focusing her eyes. She waved and stumbled into the house.
Rick and Tommy went into conference. "Look, man, we can't just keep screwin' her silly," Rick began. "I think we should . . . "
The car looked out of place. The part of the beach where Ronnie Ragsdale lived was so exclusive that there wasn't enough sand for tourists to lie on, just cliffs and lifeguards. Tommy said, "We shoulda brought a lawn mower so we could pass for gardeners."
Heather was nervous. The ends of her hair were still a little damp from her shower, and she had the pistol in her purse, Rick sat in the back seat, fidgeting. Tommy parked the car and ran his fingers through his untrimmed hair.
"Well, here goes," he said. The three of them got out of the car and walked up to Ronnie Ragsdale's door. Heather looked at the wide green lawn and the sprawling front of the brick house and decided she would live in a house like this one someday. She double-checked the safety, putting almost no faith in Tommy's five-minute course in how to handle a pistol. She remembered how noisy it was when she'd shot it. Heather hoped all fourteen bullets would stay in the clip where they belonged. She was positive that the heavy lump of metal in her purse was as blatant as a neon sigh shouting "CROOK!" Heather stood behind Rick and Tommy at the door.
The junkie's mother's hair was either an extremely expensive dye job or a fantastically good wig. Mrs. Ragsdale looked fifty or more, but her hair was curled in little overlapping swirls of glossy auburn. She smiled wide when Tommy said, "Mrs. Ragsdale? Is Ronnie in?"
Mrs. Ragsdale said, "Oh, yes, Ronnie's in his room right now. Would you like to come in? I can get him for you."
Rick said, "Oh, please don't bother, Ma'am. We'll speak to him in there." The three banditos moved in a tight clump behind the middle-aged woman, across the tiled entryway and through a huge living room.
From the look of the furnishings, Ronnie could have supported his habit for years by selling a stick or two of furniture every month. After that, if times got hard, he could start on the paintings and rugs.
Mrs. Ragsdale chattered all the way down the hall. "It's nice of you to come by. So few of Ronnie's friends stop in lately. It's not good for a boy to be shut off by himself so much of the time, don't you think? It's been years since he did anything with his hobbies."
"He may be going through a phase," Tommy said. Heather would have smiled if the gun hadn't been bumping against her thighs, reminding her of its heavy presence.
"Oh, I certainly hope he's going to get over this. You know, a mother on her own . . . any single parent I suppose . . . has so many worries. I try not to blame myself or Ronnie's father, but . . . " she muttered. She interrupted the monologue to tap genteelly on a carved wooden door. "Ronnie? You have some friends here."
"Nuhh? Who?" Ronnie slurred. He sounded disinterested and weary. He opened the door and Rick stuck his foot in it.
"Hi, Ron, how's it going?" Tommy said brightly, then turned to the mother. "Thanks so much, Mrs. Ragsdale." He pushed past Ronnie and Rick followed.
Heather felt herself sticking out like a sore thumb, with the gun dangling in her purse. Mrs. Ragsdale smiled at Heather, and the blonde girl thought the pistol must be glowing red-hot. "Th-thanks, Mrs. Ragsdale," Heather stammered.
"Would any of you like some cookies?" Mrs. Ragsdale asked.
Heather said, "Oh, thank you, but no. We can't stay long." She ducked through the door.
"All right. Be good now, Ronnie," the junkie's mother said. She swirled away and Heather closed the door in relief.
Ronnie looked bewildered. Tommy took one of the two chairs. Rick and Heather sat on the bed. Ronnie sat in the remaining chair, and all four were in a cozy conversational square. "Who are you? Do I know you?" Ronnie asked.
"We're friends of Susie's," Tommy said. "We thought we'd come visit. She says you're nice to her."
"Uhh, I don't keep anything here," the junkie said. "The maid does my room.. . I can't hold in the house."
Rick said, "Don't worry about that. We brought you a little something for being so nice to Sally. Heather, would you show him?"
Heather reached into her purse. He sure moves slow. I wonder if he's high. She spread her legs slowly, giving him a glimpse of her unpantied pussy, hoping to distract him. He looked the other way.
Heather was surprised, then angry. She didn't think it was shyness or embarrassment . . . the junkie was just too confused to look at her pretty little pussy. She pulled the pistol out, but he was looking the other way.
Ronnie asked Tommy, "What is it? What do you guys want?"
Heather raised the pistol to eye level. "We want the money you burned Susie's friend for."
Ronnie looked at Heather again. His eyes went wide. "I don't have any money!" he said. "I didn't rip anybody off!" He looked uncomfortable, but he put up a good show of innocence. Heather clicked the safety off and worked the slide.
Tommy said, "We saw you rip it, Ronnie. Where's the money?"
The junkie started to come alive. His head swiveled from Tommy to the big hole at the end of the pistol. "It's not here! I.. . I stashed it.. . I already spent most of it."
Somebody knocked on the door. Heather's head snapped around. She clicked the safety on again and stuffed the gun under a pillow, behind her. She scooted back against the wall. Mrs. Ragsdale opened the door and leaned in. "Would your friends like some lemonade, Ronnie?"
Tommy and Heather and Rick chorused, "No, thank you, Ma'am."
Ronnie said, "No! I don't want anything, Ma. Just leave us alone."
"Just say the word if you want anything," Mrs. Ragsdale said. Her simper at Heather didn't seem real, but the glare she shot at her son did.
Heather waited for her footsteps to fade off into the plush carpeting. Ronnie didn't. He jumped off his chair and reached under the pillow beside Rick. Heather yanked her pistol out quickly and waved it around.
Rick wrestled with him. Heather couldn't tell what they struggled over at first, but Rick came up with a pistol identical to Heather's. Tommy dragged the junkie back to the chair.
"Listen, fuck head, we want that money. We know you have it here." Tommy stood back so Heather could point the gun at Ronnie.
Rick snapped the slide of the junkie's gun back and forth. "This sucker's empty!" he said. He stuffed it into Heather's purse.
Beautiful! Now I'll have two hand-cannons crushing my purse out of shape, Heather thought. She waited for Tommy to sit again and aimed at Ronnie's chest. She thought of all the gangster dialogue she'd ever heard and said, "Ronnie, this gun is loaded. It makes very big holes in things and a hell of a lot of noise. Now, if you don't want a loud noise to startle your mother, you will tell us where the money is. I will make lots of very big holes in you if you don't tell us." She worked hard to keep her voice from breaking. Heather wished she could go to the bathroom.
Ronnie stood up. "Uhh, I have some money in my dresser. If I give it to you, will you leave?" He moved slowly to the dresser and opened the top drawer. His hand went in, then snaked back out with a little silvery automatic about a quarter the size of Heather's.
None of them knew what to do. Heather pointed her pistol at Ronnie and Ronnie pointed his pistol at Heather. Rick and Tommy were frozen, half-reaching toward the junkie. "This one's loaded," he said, and his voice went up half an octave. "This one's loaded!" He waved it in his open palm, holding it by the trigger.
Heather didn't just want to go to the bathroom now, she wanted to throw up. When Ronnie pointed the little pistol at her, she didn't care if it was loaded or not. All four of them were immobile for thirty long seconds, the nervous waving of Ronnie's pistol the only motion in the room.
"Here's your lemonade and cookies," Mrs. Ragsdale called. She nudged the door open. The guns disappeared, one into the dresser, the other behind Heather's back.
"Thank you, Mrs. Ragsdale," Tommy said, taking the tray. "These cookies look delicious." Tommy set the tray on the dresser and turned toward Ronnie, brushing the junkie back toward the chair. Rick immediately went to the tray.
"Oh, my, they are lovely," Rick said, taking one. "I'm sure we'll enjoy them."
"I hope you do like them . . . they're just box cookies. It's so hard to find time to bake anymore." The junkie's mother smiled brightly. She didn't seem ready to leave the room.
"I know what you mean, Mrs. Ragsdale," Heather said. She had to let go of the automatic when Rick handed her a glass of lemonade. She edged sideways, covering the handgrip with her thigh. Little beads of sweat showed on her forehead.
"Oh, I should let you people get back to visiting. Enjoy!" Mrs. Ragsdale said. Heather nodded over the rim of the tumbler and the junkie's mother left again.
Heather set the glass down very carefully before she reached for her pistol again, but her slowness didn't matter. Rick had already taken the little gun out of the dresser and covered Ronnie. "Now tell us where you put the goddamn money! I'll break your fuckin' ass if we don't have the bread in thirty seconds!" Rick snarled. "We got the guns now, smack-head."
"I told you, man, I don't have it," Ronnie whimpered. "I wasn't gonna shoot you."
Rick rummaged through the dresser. He grabbed a cookie, spilling crumbs in the drawers. "The ants are going to eat your underwear if you don't tell us," he said conversationally.
Heather shifted the automatic to her left hand and sipped at her lemonade. Tommy walked between her and the junkie and opened the desk against the far wall. "Aha!" He tossed a small plastic package of brownish-white powder to Heather. She almost dropped her lemonade.
"Mmph! Stop!" Heather gasped. Ronnie halted in the middle of the floor.
"That's my stash, man! I need that," he pleaded. "Come on, please!"
Rick took the bag of heroin and tossed it up and down in his hand. Ronnie's eyes stayed glued to it.
"We might. Make us an offer, then we'll advertise for sealed bids and get back to you in a week or two."
"God damn it, gimme my stuff! I need that shit," Ronnie said. He looked ready to cry. "The money's in the closet . . . in a shoebox. Please, man, look in the closet." He held out his hand like a starving beggar. Heather waved him back with the pistol.
Tommy ducked to search the shoeboxes. "Awright!" He held a roll of bills twice the size of the one he'd said Ronnie had stolen. He tossed it to Heather and said, "Thank you, Mr. Ragsdale!"
Two hours after her commencement ceremony, Heather Layton sat in the overstuffed chair in the front room of her apartment. She heard the sounds of the beauty parlor below filtering up through the heating system. She looked at her high-school diploma, sitting where she'd tossed it, on top of the cedar chest.
The chest was empty, except for a carefully-hidden pistol. Heather never wanted to see the gun again. She looked at the letter guaranteeing her scholarship, then let it drop to the floor. The hardest part of moving in was done. Her clothes were all hung in her closets. Her brand-new pots and pans filled the cupboards, and the living room was immaculate. She thought, I'm completely ready fin-life on my own. Everything in here fits, except me. She dragged her tired feet up onto the cushion.
I guess I'm lucky to be here. If Ray hadn't.. . .
No, I did go along with him, just like I went along with everything else.
Heather let her gown fall up into her lap, baring her thighs. She slowly slid her fingers down toward the warmth of her pussy. She hadn't bothered to wear anything under the graduation robe. Now the dark-blonde curls of her pussy fluffed out, un-crushed by panties. She wrapped them around her fingertip.
I guess I got what I wanted.. . along with all that stuff I didn't. Heather wasn't feeling lewd, but it was comforting to touch her pussy.
If I see Tommy or Rick again, I won't go to bed with them. If they'd wanted anything besides the dope and the money, they wouldn't have swapped me around.
Yeah, and my parents. What did they want from me? It's too late to ask them now.
Heather, this is morbid, she told herself. You've got everything you need.. . food, shelter.. . plenty of money to last until your scholarship starts.. . .
Then what is it I want so badly? Heather sniffed.
Her nose was threatening to run. She slid her fingers up and down the moist warmth of her pussy and let the tears flow.
