Zelda Grader's hand moved lightly over the hot, dry flesh of the boy's body. He was thin, not quite having reached his full growth. But Zelda didn't care about his physical fitness at that moment. She was interested only in the way his heart seemed to pound in his chest, that tantalizingly beautiful way that young men seemed to anticipate her knowing hand. And she knew that he was hot and dry from the expectancy of her touch. When she suddenly grasped his rigid penis with her cool fingers, she wasn't surprised at the gasp that the boy made, a shudder of delight that shook his body, wracked him from head to foot, and sent shivers of a more mature variety slithering moistly through her own body.
Her dark hair fell over his slight chest and her mouth found the center of one of his boyish nipples. She pressed her wet lips over it, sucking gently until her tongue could sense its growing firmness and only then did she part her lips and rake her teeth over the sensitive nerves. Her arm rested authoritatively over his shoulders, holding him down against the involuntary way he wanted to push her away. Once again she felt herself flooded with the sweet warmth of excitement. She squeezed his cock at its base and moved her head down, her mouth wetly open and eager to take the young plum knob of his cock into hot cavity of her head.
He was as large as any man she had ever sucked, and she was somewhat surprised that for a boy of sixteen who was so slim he was built like a stag. She opened her mouth wider and almost lunged at the pulsing head of his cock, hot and purple with the anticipation of something that he had never felt before. It was large and it filled her mouth thickly. Her lips were stretched until the corners were white, but the jaw-aching thrill of taking the boy's cock into her mouth overrode all sense of discomfort.
Zelda lowered her head, sucking the head of his dick into the wet cavern. Her cheeks collapsed around his screaming pole while her tongue lashed mercilessly over the throbbing head. His body jerked with the wild spasms of pleasure that he had never felt before and with each twitch of his slim body, Zelda felt herself growing more and more aroused, burning between her legs as only her wildest fantasies had given her. She moved her hand from the base of his cock and sunk her head lower, engulfing the young penis down to her tonsils almost. Her hand slid between his legs, cupping his passion-tightened scrotum and the swollen testicles inside. The boy was fairly shivering with the excitement that her mouth was giving him, pleasures that he had never understood could be so wonderful. Without knowing what he was doing, he suddenly began thrusting his hips upward, sinking his cock deeper into the older woman's mouth.
Quickly Zelda rested her other arm over his pubic area, limiting the amount of thrust that he could make and sending still more frantic quivering of passion racing through his body. It was coming soon, she felt, and with that knowledge her mouth went to work more furiously, sucking and licking the shrieking nerves of his cock.
Yet, despite the boys' passion, Zelda felt herself slightly removed from the scene of which she was the main actress. Her mouth salivated around the head of the boy's cock and dripped down through his pubic hair until it curled over her fingers. And she knew that this was the way to make him come, make his boyish semen rush chokingly into the hot recesses of her mouth. She would have cried with the expectancy of it had her mouth been otherwise occupied, but the moisture from it dripping onto his balls and her fingers still sent new shivers of pleasure through her body. She hesitated a moment and then slowly pushed one soaking finger down under his scrotum and into the sensitive ring of his ass. His buttocks tightened and Zelda heard him moan as her finger slid moistly into his rectum and his body jerked uncontrollably.
The hot thick liquid filled her mouth instantly, but Zelda didn't gag or let go of the boy's penis. It was all that she wanted from him and she sucked him until she could feel the muscle of his manhood grow limp. When he had come, she had rammed her finger deep into his rectum, but as he pumped his last drop of come into her mouth she had slipped her finger from his ass and dropped her hand down to her own hot, wet crotch, angrily and hurriedly rubbing her clit until her soft, well-rounded thighs closed around her hand and the boy's cock slid softly from her mouth.
Zelda dropped her head down on the boy's abdomen, her eyes closed and her mouth still swallowing the semen and saliva, but her body was basking in the glow of her self-induced orgasm, her breath coming deeply as she struggled to regain her composure. Oh, damn, she sighed, how wonderful it was to have him come inside her mouth, how very powerful it made her feel that he was, for the moments of his lust at least, so helplessly in her clutches.
A smile crept across her mouth even as she licked the last drops of his come from her lips. A moment more, she thought, and she would put on her shorts and blouse and send him back to his place with the other boys, humbled and frightened, perhaps, at what she had done to him, but hers in the total way that sex can dominate the young. He would be hers from now on and not from him would there be any complaining about when the rescue boat would come. He was trapped in the way that even the strongest of adult males are trapped, in the hot confines of a woman's cunt or her mouth, trapped by the weakness of their flesh.
When Zelda stirred finally, getting up from his bedside, Ronnie still held his eyes tightly closed. His arm covered his forehead as if it could become a barrier between his inner self and the woman who did such things to him, things that he had never dreamed possible, not even in the wildness of his sexual fantasies while he stroked his cock to ejaculation.
He remained quietly on the bed as Zelda moved about the room, dressing and shuffling things. He wanted her to go away, to die, to leave him and the others alone. But he knew that the thing would come back and his cock would become hard again and he knew even as he thought about it that no longer would his hand be enough to bring about the relief that surged at the dam-locks of his groin. Right now he wanted her to die, but tomorrow, he knew, he would want to be right back where he was this evening.
"Get up, Ronnie," Zelda said. Her voice cut through the boy's reverie icily. It was the old Zelda Gruder speaking, commandingly and with the complete assurance that every word she uttered would be obeyed immediately. "Get up, young stud. And I don't want to hear any more nonsense talk about what a terrible condition we're in. We're lucky to be alive, young man."
Ronnie could make out her silhouette against the dim glow of the turned-down lantern. She had her back to him, fixing her brassiere or something, he thought, and then she turned completely away and turned up the lantern, sending its soft yet penetrating illumination all over the small room. The light startled him and he almost jumped from the bed and hurriedly pulled his shorts on.
Miss Grader, as Ronnie called her, gave him an embarrassingly familiar look as she lit a cigarette. He stood on the other side of her bed and tried to look back into her dark, knowing eyes, but she was too strong for him and his gaze dropped immediately down to the floor.
"And I need hardly tell you that you must not say a thing about what happened here tonight, Ronnie," she said, her voice still cool but with an overtone of conspiracy that Ronnie did not fail to catch. "And there will be other times," she added, this time almost coyly and very suggestively. Indeed, she thought, there would be a many more times with this kid. Involuntarily, she pressed her thighs together as she thought of his thick cock crammed into her cunt. "But now you had better get back to your own quarters. Good night."
The boy looked up once at Zelda Grader and mumbled his farewell. His face was still flushed when he finally reached the door of his sleeping quarters. He started to go in, but then turned and ran, barefoot across the sand and down to the beach.
Zelda watched him from the open doorway of her room, watched his hesitancy at his own quarters and smiled to herself when she saw him turn and go to the beach. That he might have been troubled by what she had done to him was just what she had intended to have happen. From experience she knew that he would take his frightened and much thrilled psyche down along the lonely shore and try to figure out what it was that had happened to him, and by the time he would be coming close to some sort of truth fatigue would overtake him and he would head back to sleep and forget and yet still remember all the fleshy delights that she had given him this night.
"You like what you do to small boys?"
The voice startled her for a split second before she regained her composure and turned to the speaker. It was Antonio, of course, the only other adult on the island beside herself. He would not have noticed that he had caught her by surprise. Antonio was much too engrossed in himself and what he could offer a woman of her passionate nature. She knew that because Antonio had told her. Another smile crossed her face and she turned to the darkly handsome face at the window.
"You like watching?"
Antonio laughed, showing his mouthful of white teeth, and walked around the outside of the hut. "May I come in for a treatment, Mees Gruder?" He said it with the same tone of irony that she had given him for his earlier question. He was at the door and close enough to Zelda for her to see his dark eyes, luminous even in the blackness of the tropical night.
She nodded and continued smoking her cigarette as he came in and went directly for the bottle of brandy. He had been there before and he knew the way. Zelda watched his lithe animal-like movement across the room. He oozed around, she thought, like a snake and, like a snake, he held her fascinated. Under the ripple of his dark flesh, she hungered more than once for the feel of his muscles crushing her in wild embrace, and when he had finally put his enormous cock between her legs and fucked her until she wanted to cry she knew that she had been right about him all during the trip. He was all animal and just as stupid, but he served her purposes, in bed and in the fear that he put into the group. He was her strong arm, but she knew that she would always remain the brain and the real power over her charges.
"You make yourself a little hot in the crotch, huh? What you need is a man, me. Get undressed, Mees Gruder," he said, emphasizing the way the kids called her. He was holding the brandy bottle to his lips, sipping indifferently as Zelda walked over to her bed and began undressing. Some of the fiery liquid dribbled from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't bother to lick it away. His eyes burned into Zelda as she shed her blouse and bra and then stepped out of her shorts in a casual manner.
What a strange wonderful piece of ass, Antonio thought as he savored the full development of Zelda's tits and the full swell of her hips and narrow waist. What a woman, and what a weirdo, he added.
There was no pretense on Zelda's part. She stood in the naked light exposing the feminine charms that she knew she was endowed with and endowed with very well. Something inside her made her feel powerful when she looked into Antonio's face as he stared at her bare flesh, and she knew that he was just as helpless as the young boy had been, but her power over Antonio would require more adult treatment for Antonio, despite what she might have thought of him as an adult, was physically a man.
She watched him burn his eyes into her warm flesh, and she felt the growing excitement of what was about to come build in her, a tingling of her skin, first drying and then turning slightly damp with the fever that raced through her body, a mist of perspiration on her forehead that was echoed between her legs.
Antonio put the brandy down and, unfastening the rope belt around his shorts, walked over to the bed. He let the shorts drop and stepped out of them, exposing his rigid cock to Zelda who never failed to become even more excited by the sight of it standing and ready to plumb the depths of her cunt, stretching the vaginal walls until she felt them almost rip apart. Antonio stood for a minute before her, smiling his own perversity as he recognized the hunger in her eyes.
Zelda walked around the bed to Antonio's side, her flesh burning for his touch and almost fearing it, too, for she knew that he would try to hurt her, humiliate her, and she knew that she would take it because she needed him for the time being. She wasn't surprised then when he reached out and cupped her breast in one of his huge hands, crushing the full globe of flesh until she wanted to cry. But she didn't cry and, in fact, felt some deep satisfaction in the slight pain that caused more pleasure than hurt.
"Fuck me, Antonio," she said, softly and pleadingly. "Fuck me."
Antonio pulled her close to his hot, sweaty body, pressing the thick pole of his manhood into the soft muscle of her belly. She came to him willingly and anxiously, grinding her body against his and throwing her arms around his neck. Their mouths met in a kiss that was more battle for supremacy than love, more lust than passion. She opened her mouth and shot her tongue into his, widening her lips until her teeth crushed against his lips and then she bit down until the taste of salty blood rolled back into her throat, sweet and heady. Antonio's hands crushed the soft layer of flesh over her hips, dug into that flesh until Zelda sensed the pain and let go of his lip. In their mutual pain they found something of each other and neither was really aware of when they laid down on the cot, Zelda's legs spread wide, her moist red slit eager for his throbbing hard cock.
Antonio was brutal with her. He pushed her legs back, arching them over his shoulders and rolling forward on top of her until her round haunches were elevated off the bed. He squatted before her, pulling the heavy globes of her ass apart, spreading the lips of her vagina wide with his thumbs and then rammed his prick into her, sinking the stiff rod down, down, down into her cunt until his balls nestled against the hot, damp crack of her ass. Zelda gagged down a scream at the tearing she thought that she would receive in the initial thrust, but then her nerves relaxed and she felt the enormity of Antonio's cock inside her belly, the gasp choked off, she arched her hips and rolled her haunches as much as she could in the position he held her. Now then was there such sweet pain, she thought as her body, without direction from her mind, took over and fell into the rhythm of lovemaking, of fucking, she corrected herself, for there could never be anything else but fucking with Antonio. Love making was for someone else. And she didn't bother answering herself who it might be.
Antonio was a great fucking machine, his powerful young body, muscles rippling and catching highlights with the film of perspiration over the dark flesh, hammered against Zelda, driving deep into her cunt and then withdrawing until just the purple swollen knob of his cock rested at the lips of her cunt. When he withdrew, Zelda felt that the vacuum in her belly and lunged her hips forward, eager to suck up that monster penis into the sheath of her body. Endless moments, she felt, Antonio would hold the throbbing end of his dick at the portal of her love and just as she thought she was about to scream he would ram it up her cunt in an act of brutal passion made even more beautiful for her because of the brutality of it.
They rutted for a long time, but Zelda was beyond all sense of time. She knew that he could make her come at will, and he did make her come with hardly more than a few strokes of his big penis. And then she came again and again until she lost count, until her body was dripping with sweat and the numbness in her upraised legs turned to chills and fears that he would never stop or that he would stop just as she was reaching another crescendo of orgasm. But he never failed to bring her off one last time before his own sperm erupted in her cunt, hot juice swelling her insides and blending with the tart secretions of her own spendings and sweat.
Antonio got up and put on his shorts. "That's a lot damned better than some punk kid, huh, baby?" He laughed and walked over to the brandy and took another deep swallow. "You must be some sort of nut, Mees Gruder, but it don't matter to me. Because you're one helluva fuck, too, and that's what it's all about."
"Don't be vulgar," she said as she reached down and pulled her own shorts on.
"Listen, cunt. I'll be as damned vulgar as I want to be here on this stinking island. Just when in the hell do you think that we'll be rescued? Tomorrow? Next week? Shit! We were blown so far off course that it's gonna take a year for anyone to find us."
Zelda glared at the man, trying to put him down to where he belonged, but then she noticed that he seemed very sober and serious. Was it possible? She didn't like to think that she would have to spend a year on the island no matter how delightful the prospect of getting all those kids into her bed seemed.
"You mean that we're really lost?"
"That's what I mean. Not that I give a damn. Hell, we got plenty of food and there's fresh water and look at the great accommodations the Army left here for us. But I don't think that we'll picked up very soon."
Antonio took another swallow of the brandy and turned to Zelda, a broad grin on his face and evil twinkle in his eye. "And just think of the fun we'll have with the kids, Mees Gruder. You get the boys, and I get the little broads. Not bad, huh?"
Zelda looked at him and tried to force herself to become serious, but it was, after all, just what she had been thinking ever since they landed on the island. Still, she thought, she mustn't let Antonio know that she agreed. It might become too sticky, she thought, more than they both could handle.
She didn't answer him. The idea had been hers all along and she knew that Antonio knew it.
There was no need to make a verbal answer. Zelda picked up a glass from the table and brought it over to him. He poured her a stiff belt of brandy and they toasted silently to the joys they hoped were coming. Then she looked up at Antonio, giving him her most haughty smile.
"And what makes you think that the girls will only be yours?"
Antonio lowered the bottle from his lips and stared down at Zelda, trying to penetrate the dark glare she was giving him. And then he knew that she was not kidding. He laughed. "So much the better, but I didn't know you liked little girls, too."
Zelda shrugged. A thrill was a thrill as far as she was concerned, and from some unknown depths in her make-up she often felt an overwhelming urge to make love to a woman, a very young woman, a girl. Her experiences in an all-girls' boarding school brought her latent tendencies into the open, but that had been some time ago. Still the urges were there and remained with her, hidden for most of her adult life, but never denied and rarely given in to.
"It's late, 'Tonio," she said. "Go to bed and I'll work something out. But you're sure that it'll be long time before someone finds us?"
"A long time, yes, that's a possibility. But you might try to get used to the idea that we may never be found."
Again Zelda looked startled and frightened, but that was the reaction that Antonio wanted to see. He laughed and walked out of the woman's hut. "Think about it, Mees Gruder. Think hard."
Zelda locked her door after Antonio left and then got onto the cot. It was still warm and slightly damp from their bodies, but she was fatigued from the efforts of the evening and closed her eyes.
It had happened so fast that she wasn't yet quite sure what it was. The storm hit their fifty-foot schooner early in the morning, still dark and made darker still by the screaming wind and rain. It was a nightmare of mountainous swells, groaning timbers and that ear-splitting snap as the boat's keel slammed into the reef. The impact threw her from her bunk. Then there was the rubber raft with all the kids clinging to it, and Antonio screaming orders at them and at her and then his powerful arm reaching out and pulling her to the relative safety of pitching raft.
Somehow they all made it to the shore, falling exhaustedly on the higher sand and sleeping away through the howling wind and the pouring rain. When she awoke the next morning, the sun was burning her face and the sea was flat. It looked like a slate of plate glass and then off about five-hundred yards was the mast-less hulk of the schooner.
Antonio was already up and had built a fire. He had gathered all the kids around it, some almost naked, waiting for their shorts and blouses to dry. When she came down to the fire, he told her everything. Lanterns, supplies, and plenty of canned food, he said, pointing to a stack of boxes on the shore. He had gone out just at sun rise and carried it all back. Very dangerous. And no. There was no sign of the captain or the doctor, the other chaperon on the voyage.
That had been a week ago, she thought, her eyes no longer closed as she rested on the hot bed. They had all eaten and then wandered through the tropical palms, found fresh water and then the quonset huts. Antonio guessed that it must have been a military weather station, probably abandoned about a year earlier. But it was a home and shelter and within a couple of days, she and the kids had made the best of it.
Those were the easy days. The kids felt the sense of adventure and the work of restoring the huts to some sort of livable condition kept their minds off the fact of their plight. But the work didn't take enough time. When it was done, they complained and planned and some of them became a little hysterical. But it was nothing that Zelda Gruder could not handle, not until Ronnie began his little campaign of wanting to know what she and Antonio were actually doing about getting them rescued. He seemed like he was going to be trouble and she had merely wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right, but then it got out of hand. She forced the early evening's memory from her mind. But she knew that it was the best way to control the boys, and the girls, too.
Now the worst of their situation seemed to be over, Zelda thought. She got up from the cot and filled her brandy glass again. There wouldn't be too much more of that for a long time, she thought, just a few more months' supply at the rate of a bottle a week.
It was all wrong. She knew it was wrong, but then she also knew that she was getting no younger and if Antonio was right...
Zelda was thirty years old, looking older when she dressed in her severe manner and wore her nurse's cap. Born of wealthy parents who died when she was young, she was raised in one private boarding school after another right through nursing school. It had all been very nice, being around the wealthy, but it was difficult for Zelda, a charity student in the schools simply because her father had once been a renowned surgeon. She was given a first-rate education, but never any of the money that she would have enjoyed had her parents lived; When she graduated, she found that her wealthy connections, hardly friends any more since she was poor, did provide her with numerous private assignments. The last, of course, on the luxury schooner for the dozen kids, rich and spoiled. It was an assignment that she loved. It was her chance to be the authority to the kids who had everything that she should have had and didn't.
Yes, she thought. They may have all the money they will ever need, but I have them now. She sipped the brandy and walked over to the window, looking for something at the black velvet night sky with its glittering blaze of tropical constellations. Her watch had been lost, but she guessed that it was somewhere around two in the morning, lonely time, quiet and dangerous. Did Ronnie return to the big hut? Go back to bed? For an instant she was almost willing to leave her room and check on him, but she shrugged. Where could he go? Another smile crossed her face and she went back to her cot, turning off the lantern on the way and leaving the last few drops of brandy in the glass by the side of the bed.
As she closed her eyes, she could picture her charges one by one, not clearly with all of them, but enough to remember their names. There was Ronnie, sixteen and shy, but he was just the first. She tried to visualize the other boys, pausing in her reverie over Martin, son of a Detroit contractor, seventeen, all-star athlete, natural leader. She made a note to be especially careful with him. He would need special treatment. And the others, again vaguely, she went over their names. Bob, sixteen, bully, son of a banker or something financial and just a little dumb. Phillip, a nothing, perhaps a little faggot? She dismissed him. Then three more, John, Henry, Alex, sixteen or seventeen, she guessed, but again nothing about them that made special consideration necessary.
And the girls? There were only five of them. Yes, that was it. One of the girls to the evenly matched dozen had gotten sick and her brother took her place. John or Henry? She would have to look it up in her medical files which had been saved.
Joan was the oldest. Zelda knew Joan very well. She was a tramp, a flirt, and quite obviously no virgin. Even before the group had gotten out of the last port, Zelda had had trouble with Joan. It wasn't anything very serious, a small matter of a midnight swim in the nude with Martin. And then there was Mary, same age as Joan, but quite the opposite type, virginal, quiet, too inhibited to reveal what Zelda could see, that she was very moony about Martin. She would be a special case, too, a most delightful one, Zelda thought.
There were other girls, too, but Zelda's mind drifted off to sleep without thinking much of them. Tomorrow, she was dreaming.
CHAPTER TWO
Joan Tribble woke before the other girls in the quonset hut. It was her way of being first in almost everything she ever tried. But there wasn't much to do on the island very early in the morning except swim in the warm surf-fringed lagoon. It was a fantastic adventure, all right, being shipwrecked and saved. Too bad, she thought casually, that Miss Gruder hadn't gone down with the ship. Things might have been a bit more interesting if the doctor had survived.
She walked quietly down to the beach, thinking of how the young doctor had almost been close to making a pass at her, a pass that she had set up. But there was Miss Gruder and it all went down the tubes. Joan kicked the white sand and forced the thought of the doctor from her mind. In sight of the water, she broke into a run and dove over the small crest and into the clear blue of the deep water.
Joan was a good swimmer and strong. Her body, cared for and nourished by the best that money could buy, reflected everything desirable, full breasts, narrow waist, long tapering thighs and a hungry passion for getting as much cock as she could. Something that she wasn't getting any of here on the island, but then that was the luck of it all. She wouldn't even have been on the cruise if she had not been caught fucking that super-cock of a bellhop, and it was all so unnecessary, too, she thought. She and the boy had been going at it for the entire day, but he insisted and she was willing, too willing, to have that last merry round on her mother's big bed. Gluttony, Joan told herself, obviously didn't pay off. Mother had caught them, and Joan was signed up for the cruise the next day. The bellhop was probably canned, she thought, unless Mother took a fancy to his big cock. That her mother would do such a thing didn't surprise Joan at all.
She swam out about a hundred yards and turned her face to the sun, closing her eyes as she floated in the warm ocean, but thinking all the time, as she forked her thighs together, how great it had been and how great it would be with a cock rammed up her cunt. As she floated on her back, her hands eased under the thin panties that she wore as a bathing suit. It was all she had left after the wreck, a pair of panties, a bra and shorts and a halter. She scissored her legs wide and slipped her fingers into her sea-wet crotch, eager fingers searching out the little bud of excitement and then drifting easily, Joan fingering herself to a somewhat less than satisfactory orgasm. When at last she had clamped her thighs around her hand and felt the warm glow race through her body, she opened her eyes and quickly dove under the water.
From the shade of a palm tree, Antonio watched with hungry eyes as the lush thing swam out. He smiled to himself because he knew that she would be his very soon. All that young, big breasted girl-woman would taste the massive pole of his cock, and he meant that she would taste it in every opening. He knew that he would crush those big tits in his hands and force that rich little bitch down to her knees and make her suck him until she gagged on his joint. Then he would tear her tight little asshole apart with his maddened stem, plumb her all the way up to her tonsils and when she was thoroughly taken in those ways, he would fuck her mindless, stretch her cunt walls so wide that she would have to walk bowlegged for a week.
Antonio flitted from one provocative fantasy to another, but seemingly always coming back to reaming Joan's high, well-rounded haunches, buggering her until his cock felt like it would split.
As she swam into the surf and stood up, he became aware of the bulge in his shorts, embarrassing then, but not for long. Still he turned away. He didn't want her to know that he had been watching her every move every morning since the wreck. There would be time for Joan, he thought, and went off toward Zelda's hut.
The swim and the handy excitement made Joan exuberant. She came out of the water and picked up her halter and shorts and ran down the soft white sand. There were no towels and she knew that it was only a matter of minutes before the sun and the hot air dried her. Later, after breakfast, she would go down to the fresh water pool and bathe away the salt. When she was dry and slightly winded from her run down the beach, she stopped and put on her shorts and halter, resisting the urge to remove her brassiere first. It would have felt wonderfully free to romp around without it, but then she realized that she was too big for that. Slowly she walked back to the camp and waited in line with the rest of the kids for their breakfast of fresh fish, powdered scrambled eggs, and tea.
Joan nodded to everyone and smiled, but there wasn't anything to say to them. She looked around the group until she spotted her only girl friend on the cruise, Ellen, and went over to the younger girl.
"You ought to come for a swim in the morning," Joan said. "Makes for a real appetite, even for powdered eggs. Get enough sleep?"
Ellen nodded. She was pretty, but she didn't have the flamboyant way that Joan had, and it wasn't because she was just a year younger. She was afraid to do what she wanted to do, and Joan wasn't. That was the only difference. Joan did it and Ellen was afraid to. But the difference made for close friends, close enough, Ellen remembered, to have even mutually masturbated. But that was all. Even there in the breakfast line, Ellen felt a blush run up to her hairline as she recalled that Joan wanted her to go down on her, wanted to lick her crotch. She had refused, but Joan, to Ellen's relief, didn't make much of it except to tell the younger girl what she was missing, how much more pleasant it was with a tongue instead of a finger. Next time, Ellen thought, next time she would go all the way.
There weren't any tables for eating. So each of the kids went off to sit under a tree in twos or threes. Joan and Ellen went off by themselves, plunking down in the sand near the beach.
"I'm starving," Joan said, shoving a mouthful of fried fish into her face. "You really ought to come for a swim in the morning."
"I'd rather sleep."
"Good wet dreams, I hope," Joan said, smiling slyly.
Ellen didn't answer. She blushed again and started to pick at the eggs and fish, eating slowly and almost indifferently. "What'll we do today?"
"What is there to do? Let's just wander around the old island. Maybe we'll find a pirate's treasure. Come on! Eat up. I'll meet you down at the pool."
Ellen nodded as Joan got up and ran over to the wash rack. There wasn't much to wash, but she seemed in such a great hurry to do it. Ellen sat under the tree and watched her friend until she was out of sight. In a few minutes, Ellen thought, Joan's body would be naked in the cool water of the fresh pool. Just thinking of it sent a shiver of desire running through her. She wanted to be the water that held Joan's flesh.
Quickly Ellen finished her meal and washed her plate. Today might be different, she was thinking as she walked slowly toward the fresh water pool, but how different she wouldn't let herself imagine.
Joan was shaking herself dry in the sun when Ellen arrived, but she made no move to hide her ample charms, her high-riding breasts with the stiff nipples nor the triangle of black hair between her legs. It was only Ellen, she thought, but if it had been one of the boys she was sure that she wouldn't have run modestly away, either. She was too aroused by her swim and still too unsatisfied.
Ellen watched, slightly embarrassed by Joan's nakedness, as the older girl slowly dressed.
The island wasn't very large and Joan and Ellen had walked around the beach once before. It took them almost the entire day, but it had been worth it, finding a black sand beach on the other side of the island, remains of some long extinct volcano. But they had never gone across the island, through the undergrowth and the high trees. It should be adventure, Joan assured the younger girl, and that was enough.
They had walked for about two hours when Joan finally agreed that it was getting too hot. Too hot to walk and too hot to really continue their cross-country trip. She would have gone on, gone on because she was strong and she wanted to work off the growing sensations in her crotch, wanted to sweat it away, but they had come across another fresh water pool. Fatigue and heat convinced her that they should stop.
"Let's swim," Joan said, not waiting for the younger girl to decide before she was stripping out of her clothing and plunging into the cool water. "Oh! It's cold, but it's great. Hurry, Ellen. Wow!" Ellen, too, had felt the oppressive heat of the midday tropics and the water looked very inviting. She hesitated for a moment and then she, too, was out of her clothing and stepping cautiously into the cold water.
Joan surfaced and called Ellen from the opposite side of the pool. "I found a little cave. Come on." Then she was gone, swimming under the ledge and into the cool interior of the cave behind the falls.
For more than an hour, Ellen and Joan explored the cave behind the falls, admiring the way the light shimmered through the water and diffused itself over the damp moss-covered walls. There was an eerie luminescence to the quiet pool of water inside the cave, almost enough to scare them. But the cave didn't go very far, ending abruptly in the dim light about twenty-five feet from the falls.
They both dove into the water at the same time, swimming under the ledge and up into the hot air outside. It was almost noon, but they didn't care about lunch. The air was too hot and humid for eating and as they both lay down on the grassy bank of the pool they agreed to forego the meal.
The sun had burned down and Joan let herself relax almost to the point of slumbering. Ellen, too, finally relaxed, still afraid of her nudity, but slowly falling under the spell of the warm sunlight.
She was almost dozing when she felt Joan's mouth against her soft tummy, felt the hot wetness of her tongue as it traced crazy patterns across the flesh, dipping lower and lower, settling excitingly into her navel and licking slowly downward.
"Oh, Joan. I'm scared. Please. Please don't," she whispered. But Joan simply looked up at her and smiled knowingly. Joan knew what Ellen knew: that Ellen did not want Joan to stop. This time she would go all the way.
Joan planted another kiss on the girl's soft skin just above the line of her pubic hair. Then with a gentle shove, she moved between Ellen's legs, spreading them wide with her cool, eager fingers. The crotch was damp from the pool, but warming quickly as she slowly lowered her face into the pink folds.
Ellen shuddered at the first touch of Joan's mouth on her clitoris, snapped her legs wider apart and gave a deep-throated moan of desire. It was all that Joan needed for encouragement.
She spread the lips of the younger girl's cunt wide with her lips and tongue, eating down until she had the little nub of passion firmly pressed between her teeth. Her tongue went wild then, lashing it until she could feel Ellen's body quiver and shake and fight to push the sensitive organ closer to the pleasure-giving mouth.
Oh, what a sweet, virginal pussy, Joan thought as her mouth pressed into the humid purse of love. She wanted to make the younger girl come like she had never come before, because she knew that Ellen would eat her next and she wanted to be eaten, to be fucked with the girl's mouth until she cried and pissed and howled like the wind.
Tears ran down Ellen's face, but they were tears of happiness. What she felt would happen was happening and it was far, far more than she ever expected. Her mind became almost blank and her heart raced until she thought that she would faint, but the pleasure in her crotch kept increasing as Joan's tongue probed deep into her cunt, and, yes, then she could say the word for what it was, her cunt, cunt, cunt, happy cunt. The muscles of her ass tightened and her belly heaved forward to crush the tantalizing tongue and lips. She soared on clouds of feathery lightness, screamed up to the peak of her passion and clamped her legs tightly around Joan's head as she came and came again, crying and moaning with the release of all the passion she knew could exist.
Joan rubbed her face over Ellen's belly, climbing higher and higher up the girl's lush body until her mouth was inches from the stiff nipples. She rubbed her face over and around them, finally taking one gently into her mouth and sucking the sweet protuberance even more rigid. Ellen moaned and pushed the older girl's head away and then cradled it in her arms.
"Oh. Oh, Joan. Oh, that was so good."
Joan leaned up and kissed her on the ear and whispered to her, "I know, Ellen. I know. Please do me now. I need you. Please." And all the while she was pushing the young girl's head down.
Ellen hesitated, feeling softly inactive after her orgasm, but she let herself be pushed down to the black patch of hair between Joan's lets. She must do it now, she told herself, do it while the pleasure was still fresh between her legs.
She didn't bother with the soft caresses that Joan had given her, but went directly down between Joan's legs, letting the older girl spread her thighs wide. A moment's pause and then she dropped her mouth over the wet, slimy slit between the soft round thighs. Hesitantly at first, she dipped her tongue into the steamy crack, spreading the soft pubic hair with it and then cautiously tasting the warm fluid of Joan's cunt. There was no shock of revulsion and, quite surprised by that, Ellen plunged her tongue into Joan's slit with greater eagerness. Her hands, almost idle at the start of her lovemaking, suddenly came up and over Joan's thighs, slid gently over the flesh and probed apart the lips of her pussy.
A surge of excitement raced through Ellen's body as she became more engrossed with the heaving torso and heavy breasts of the object of her lovemaking. She felt some strange feeling of power over the older girl as her mouth worked frantically at the girl's cunt, licking the salty liquid into her mouth. Cool hands came behind her neck and guided her face to the little nub. Just as Joan had sucked it into her mouth, Ellen sucked Joan's, grating her tongue over and over the screaming tissue.
Joan felt the new contact and crushed her hips against the hot mouth of her young lover, feeling herself rise rapidly to the edge of an orgasm. She held herself back kept holding back, wanting to feel the mouth at her crack forever, but then she couldn't hold back. Emotion roared through her body and crashed in a dizzying spasm of relief between her legs. She tightened her thighs around Ellen's head, making the young girl halt the maddening movement of her tongue. Joan's ass rolled back and forth, her thighs still holding Ellen's face, until the last shudder of orgasm passed through her body.
Both girls sat up after a few minutes, neither finding any words to talk, both almost wanting to forget that their emotions had run away with them. Ellen felt awkward for a longer time while Joan suddenly laughed and jumped back into the icy pool. She saw the concerned look on her friend's face and made a joke about having had the best meal since she was shipwrecked. Ellen managed an uneasy smile for an answer.
It was nearly supper time when they both returned to the camp. They were only missed slightly at lunch time. It wasn't very unusual for any of the kids not to make the midday meal, one of the things that Zelda did not insist upon as she knew that the heat diminished every appetite, even her own. Still, she always liked to see all of her charges at that time, even if they didn't want to eat.
Zelda watched from the window of the makeshift dispensary as the two girls returned. At first glance, she thought that everything was all right, but then she noticed that Ellen, normally very quiet, seemed considerably more animated than Zelda could remember ever seeing her. She was running and laughing along with Joan, normal for that girl, Zelda thought. Curious behavior, Zelda thought and then turned away, hardly thinking much more about it.
"Pretty pair of twats, huh?"
Zelda turned, startled by the voice. Antonio was standing at the door, his white teeth made brighter still by the dark complexion.
"Remember what we discussed last night? Well, I know something about those two that might surprise you. I took a little walk today and guess what I discovered?"
Zelda recovered her composure. "Don't bore me, 'Tonio. I've got things to do."
"Bullshit, Mees Gruder. There's nothing to do on this stinking island, except fuck away the time. But aren't you a little bit interested in what I saw today?"
"What did you see?" Zelda asked, her voice resigned to listening to him.
"That older girl, Joan, is quite an interesting piece. Seems she likes girls a lot."
"What the hell do you mean?" Zelda snapped.
"I took a little walk after breakfast," he said, stepping into the dispensary. "Very nice way to play if one does not have a man around." Antonio told her of following the girls to their trysting place, relishing each detail of how first Joan had spread the younger girl's legs and then mouthed her cunt until Ellen had her climax.
Zelda listened to Antonio's story, believing it without question. She herself had been to too many girls' schools to have been shocked or concerned. That Joan would attempt something like that didn't surprise her, but Ellen's enthusiastic behavior was something else. She suspected that Antonio was coloring the tale by making the younger girl out as a sophisticate. But that was a minor concern and it did explain in Zelda's mind why the girl was so animated when she had seen them return.
Already plans were forming. She would have Ellen come to her quarters just before the lights out and confirm what Antonia had said. And then.... The thoughts of Ellen's young girl flesh sent a fresh shiver of anticipation running through Zelda's body. It had been a long time since she had explored the soft wonderland of a young female's secret places.
"I theenk you like little girls, too, huh, Mees Gruder?" Antonio leaned against the table and was laughing without sound.
Zelda turned to him with a frosty stare. "But you said it yourself, 'Tonio. What else is there to do?"
"I want to watch," he said.
"Don't be ridiculous," Zelda said. "I'm not about to put on a show for you or anyone else."
He moved over to her so quickly that Zelda hardly saw him. Her arm went painfully up behind her back and the glinting edge of the knife, razor-keen edge against her cheek, came out so quickly that she was too frightened to scream.
"I could simply cut your throat, Mees Gruder, and take the girls myself. After me, they won't need each other. I'm going to watch, aren't I?"
The pain seared up her arm and into her shoulder, but Zelda managed to whisper her assent. This was a new factor that she had not bargained with. Quickly she realized that Antonio must be made to be her accomplice, to be part of the things that she wanted to do, and though she was a trifle disgusted with his suggestion she realized herself that this was yet another way in which to enslave him to her demands. She smiled her sexiest and finally felt the pressure on her arm ease. "Don't be a bigger fool than I think you are, darling. I was just joking. But you have to allow me to watch you while you entertain her. By the time I get through with her you'll appreciate how nicely softened up and ready she'll be for your big cock."
Antonio slipped the knife back into its sheath and let go of the woman's arm. "I'll be watching from the window. So leave the blind up enough. And leave the door unlatched. It should be most interesting getting into that hot-pants little bitch. She has such a lovely movement, that Joan."
Zelda smiled at him. "But Tonio, darling, I meant to take Ellen, the younger girl. She's such a sweet little thing, and I'd swear that she's a virgin, at least a virgin to a man if not to a girl. Joan has been around quite a bit. In fact, fucking was the reason she was forced to come along on the cruise."
Antonio made some protests, cautiously admitting that he had the hots for Joan ever since she came aboard the schooner. But he relented after Zelda promised that they would have Joan the next night.
It was dark outside already, the tropical sunset fiery for a brief time and then blackness. Antonio was suddenly aware of the darkness in the dispensary and the opportunity it offered. He moved to Zelda's side and pressed his frustrated and tormented penis against Zelda. She understood his impassioned mood and slipped down on the cool floor of the dispensary and unhooked his shorts, letting them fall around his ankles. Quickly she lowered her head over his thick cock and took it into her mouth, laving the glans furiously with her tongue and lips. Her hands cradled his testicles, those heavy balls she had come to love as they banged against her ass when he fucked her. She sucked the thick hard-on with her own passion rising, sucked frantically with only the thought of making him come quickly. She was rewarded with his load of hot semen which she swallowed.
Antonio held Zelda's head until he felt his cock relax. He couldn't see her face, but he knew from watching her with Ronnie the previous night that she had enjoyed it almost as much as he did. He let her get to her feet as he pulled his shorts up and belted them.
"I'll be waiting for you after you put the kiddies to bed," he said.
Zelda said that he might as well go have a drink as she would take Ellen for a little walk before bringing her to quarters. "Watch for us. I'll have a lantern."
He understood and left without saying anything. He felt relaxed, almost fatigued by the quick way he had responded to Zelda's mouth. It was over too quickly, he thought, but that was all right, too. He knew that he would be ready in an hour or so, more than ready for the little virgin cunt. He scuffed through the sand to Zelda's, turning on a lantern and drinking from the bottle.
His thoughts ran back over the day's events and he tried to picture the younger girl as he had so well imprinted Joan's lush young body on his brain. Slowly, she came back to him, her legs spread for Joan's mouth, the arching way her not immature hips rose to meet that mouth and very adequate development of the girl's bosom. Yes, he thought, she would be just fine, and a virgin, too, he reminded himself. But then maybe that was why he had been so taken with Joan. She was definitely not a virgin and he laughed quietly as he wondered when she ever was. It was the older girl's experience that intrigued him, her sure way of handling her body and her aggressive way with Ellen. Other than that, he coolly told himself, there was very little physical difference between the two girls. And from tonight, there wouldn't be much that Joan knew that Ellen wouldn't. He laughed again and took another swallow from the brandy bottle.
He laughed again as he thought of how no one back in Matzalan would believe that he had been marooned on a tropical island with five nymphs and a horny older woman. But whether they believed him or not didn't matter, he knew. The boys around the yacht club would keep buying as long as his fantastic story held out, and some of them would believe and would fantasize and relive vicariously this incredible segment of Antonio Cappatto's career.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden freshening of the wind and damp, sweet smell of rain in the cool air. The palms were rustling.
The bright sliver of moon that had just risen suddenly was curtained by the boiling mass of clouds. Antonio felt the physical effects of the falling barometer, a sudden sense of exhilaration, a quickening of pulse, a time for mad things and madder things still. From his twenty-eight years, eighteen or more at sea one way or another, he knew what was coming, and he reveled in it. The storm. From the first hurricane he had ever experienced at the age of five, he loved the wind and the sudden crash of thunder and flash of lightning, the howling wind and then the slashing rain, cool against the tropical heat of the minutes before and so free that his mind wanted to run up the mast and feel the full force of the stinging water, salty and more delicious than anything could ever be.
Quickly he turned the lantern out and picked up the bottle. Zelda and the virgin would be coming. Zelda and the virgin, he mused, making it a sing-song ringing tantalizingly through his brain. He stepped out into the wind, caught a glimpse of the moon once more before it was curtained behind a thunder head, yet only slowly fading behind the blackness, revealing first the turmoil of the storm that was soon to crash down. He laughed and walked around the quonset hut, small shelter there from a makeshift awning that some soldier had put up. It would not be enough to protect from the rain, but he was not one to complain about rain. He took another swig from the bottle of brandy and waited patiently for Zelda and the virgin. They would be coming quickly, he thought, fearing the weather as all women fear the weather.
From one window through the opposite window, he saw the swinging lantern, moving joggedly as the girls ran to the shelter of the hut. Antonio smiled to himself and took still another drink from the bottle. He capped it then, not wanting the surge of excitement from the weather and the thoughts of the virgin's widespread legs to leave him. He nestled the bottle down into the sand, knowing that when he was ready he would take it with him.
Zelda had taken Ellen for a long walk down the beach, speaking softly and understandingly to the young girl. A suggestion here and there, a word of comfort, a word of more understanding about the hot flushes that ran through a girl's body and before long Ellen was telling Zelda all about her shame, her seduction, her participation and her desires. And her fears. She expressed them more than anyone else had done. Ellen said that she knew that she was never going to be rescued, that they were all going to be stranded forever. Zelda reassured her, calmed her and told her to follow.
When the wind came up, she told the girl to hurry and began to trot toward her quarters. Ellen kept up with Zelda, her eyes glued to the wavering flash of the lantern's beam as it joggled over the sand. The going was slow through the deep, soft sand, and when they were a hundred yards from Zelda's quarters, the rain exploded upon them, heavy sheets of rain, drops as big as tea cups and larger. It drenched them with the first onslaught, but Zelda smiled and imperceptibly slowed her pace. She was soaked in a moment, drenched to the skin, and so was Ellen. Perfect, Zelda, thought, and the thought was echoed in Antonio's mind as he watched the woman and the virgin come up to the hut.
Zelda put the lantern on the table and closed the door, careful to leave it unlatched as she knew that Antonio was watching. She felt a strange perversity in knowing that he was watching, and knowing that he was going to watch as she seduced Ellen. But there were first things to perform. She lit the stove. She looked for the brandy and realized that Antonio must have the open bottle with him. It was no matter. She opened another one and left it on the sideboard near the stove. Then she drew some water and told Ellen to get out of her wet clothing while she made some hot tea.
Zelda pointed toward a robe hanging near the cot, and Ellen seemed relieved. Quickly, she stripped out of her clothes and, watching Zelda busy at the stove, she put on the robe. That moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed by Antonio who noticed immediately that the girl's nipples were stiff. Stiff with what? With fear or anticipation? He muffled a laugh and reached down for the bottle.
Ellen watched Zelda make tea preparations. All the things she had told the nurse seemed so distant, and the older woman seemed so understanding that she was beginning to feel comfort- able. The fire was comfortable after the cool rain and it made the hut protective and isolated from the crashing storm that was raging outside.
Zelda laced Ellen's tea heavily with brandy and sugar. She knew that it was not enough to make the girl intoxicated, but it would be enough to make her relax, make her become more drowsy and more susceptible to her advances. Ah sweet brandy, Zelda thought as she brought the cups of steaming tea over to the girl, it will make my task so much easier.
She put the cups of tea and brandy on the table by the bed. As Ellen began to drink hers, Zelda smiled and began to change her own wet clothing. She was careful to let the younger girl see her fully developed body, the firm globes of her breasts and the swell of her hips, her narrow waist and her milk-white skin that contrasted so boldly with the dark triangle between her legs.
At first, Ellen turned away, but as the warm tea and brandy flowed through her body, she slyly turned to watch the older woman, slightly embarrassed, but too curious to turn away even when Zelda smiled at her and continued her slow movements. The older woman had taken a towel and was sensuously rubbing her body down, warming it to a pale pink flush.
"You should let me do this to you, Ellen," she said very softly. "It'll take all the danger of catching a cold away. Come here."
Still fascinated by the beautiful body of the older woman, Ellen got up from the edge of the bed and, putting her cut of tea down, walked over to Zelda. She was blushing at the thought of the nurse touching her, but she wanted to be touched by the gentle hands of the older woman, wanted the feel of those cool, long fingers over her fiery body.
Outside, Antonio watched with increasing passion as the females performed their quiet admiration of each other's body. He grew more frantic as Zelda pushed the girl's thin robe from her shoulders, revealing the fine youthful breasts and smooth fleshed torso. He saw the hungry look in Zelda's eyes as she touched the girl's nipples gently and watched for some reaction from the youngster, but the girl only shut her eyes.
"You have a beautiful body," he heard Zelda whisper. "No wonder Joan was so attracted to you. Ellen, dear, I feel that way, too, the way that Joan must have felt this afternoon. You're really beautiful, my dear."
There were other whispered endearments that Antonio could only guess at. But the magic words of Zelda were taking effect, he saw. The older woman slowly placed her arms around the girl's shoulders and pulled her close to her warm breasts and then, shyly, uncertainly, the girl put her arms around Zelda. A moment of silence and the touch had the desired effect. Gently and seemingly not even moving, Zelda lifted the girl's face and pressed her mouth over the parted lips of the virgin.
Ellen moaned and seemed to melt into Zelda's comforting arms, seeking the warmth there and the protection and the excitement of what she knew was only a fraction of what it could be like with someone like Zelda. For an instant she felt some loathing of herself, but it passed as quickly as the rush of blood roared through her body and her cunt seemed to boil with desire. She responded willingly to the kiss, frightened at first by its intensity and then glad of it, joyously accepting it and returning it to the older woman.
Zelda's hands moved down the girl's back, cupping the well-rounded buttocks and squeezing the firm soft flesh. Her kiss became more insistent, more demanding, and her hands pulled the girl's ass apart, cool knowing fingers slipping into the crack and down until they felt the girlish moisture seeping from the core of heat. Their pelvises ground together, black slash of hair insinuating itself between the softer, younger lighter curls of Ellen's cunt. Slowly and without breaking the kiss, Zelda walked Ellen back to the bed, kissing her feverishly once and then easing her down onto the soft cover. - Ellen held her eyes tightly shut as she felt herself lowered onto her back, felt those cool, knowing fingers spread her thighs, hot pillars of flesh, wide apart and she could feel her heart pounding as she waited for the electrifying shock of Zelda's tongue. The girl clenched her hands into the covers, squeezing the fabric until her knuckles were almost white, waiting, expecting, knowing what was coming, frightened of it, and wanting it so very much at the same time.
Zelda smiled once toward the window, hardly a smile really, more of a sardonic grin, an expression of conquest that seemed to mock the unseen presence of the masculine animal just outside. The light from the lantern made it impossible for Zelda to see outside, but she knew that Antonio was there and she knew that what she going to do would run him up the wall and then.... She knelt at the foot of the bed and told herself that she would worry about that when it happened. The girl, she noticed, was still frightened, eyes closed and fists clenched. Well, Zelda thought, as she lowered her face into the warm flesh of the girl's belly, eyes and fists will be closed in more than fright before the night is over.
The shock of Zelda's face against her abdomen made Ellen open her eyes and look down. Her hands unclenched the fabric and she wanted to push the older woman away but those wild sensations ran through her body one more time and she "could no longer control herself. She rocked her hips forward and undulated as Joan had done earlier in the day. Was it the same day? The shock again of Zelda's mouth closing rapidly down to her most sensitive core made her forget the feelings of the afternoon, if that had really been a part of the day or was it all just a damp dream and happened a million years ago?
Ellen cried out as Zelda's tongue expertly parted the pubic hair and zeroed in on the bud of pleasure. The first stab of hot tongue sent of a jolt of pleasure into her body. She arched her back, trying at once to get away from the flaying tongue and at the same time to get even closer to it. Zelda beat a staccato of excitement into the girl's cunt, laving the clit frantically for a few minutes before lowering the target area to bring into better arousal some of the delicate tissues and nerves of the girl's vaginal walls. She slipped her tongue deep into the pink wet folds of flesh, occasionally mouthing the plumb petals of passion that were the girl's cunt lips. Her thoughts, like Joan's earlier, also reflected upon the tart sweetness of this boiling virgin. She licked the girl's pussy down, down, down, pushing the healthy thighs wide and back until her mouth was comfortably resting right at the core. Then she went down farther, licking moistly around the edges of her asshole and finally, after much tormenting, plunged the hot tip of her tongue into the tight ring of muscle ... just a tip of tongue, but enough to send the girl crying aloud with the intensity of the pleasure, a moan that almost dimmed the roaring storm outside.
Antonio reached down and picked up the bottle of brandy, quickly uncorking it and taking a long pull. But his eyes never left the two on the bed inside the hut. He was aware only of the burning liquid going down his throat and the painful throbbing of his enormous erection. He wanted to drop the bottle, his tightly bulging shorts and race into the hut and slam his meat into the quivering cavern of Ellen's hot cunt. But he held himself in check, sipping more of the brandy and telling himself that he must hold back in order to really enjoy the preparation that Zelda was giving the virgin. The rain splashed from his back, off his head and trickled down into his mouth, but he still felt feverish from watching. Zelda, he thought in a moment of calm, was as enthusiastically eating the girl's box as she had been sucking off the boy. A crazy broad, he told himself, and added that that was just what every shipwrecked sailor should have.
Ellen felt still newer spasms of delight as Zelda's mouth worked its way up from her anus and back into the hot lubricity of her cunt. Oh, yes, she whispered to herself, it was her cunt, her cunt, her throbbingly aching cunt that was giving her so much pleasure. Not even Joan's skillful tongue had done that this afternoon what the older woman was doing then. Ellen felt dizzy with the waves of emotion that rocked through her virginal body as the nurse licked around the core of sensitivity, sometimes even nibbling gently with her teeth on that wild little nub of nerves. Her face grew red and the perspiration rolled between her breasts and down onto the cover of the bed, surrounding Ellen in a damp, earthy-smelling and exciting bath. The moisture didn't cool in the storm-caused breeze that swept through the hut. Her body was too afire to allow for coolness.
Again Zelda's tongue found yet another sensitive area which sent the girl into new paroxysms of pleasure. She heaved her chest up and down, sucking in the life-giving air and flailed the mattress with her clenched fists and then a great shudder passed through her body, some wild new excitement that had never broke out of her soul before. Ellen felt it like a coal between her legs, hot and alive and searing right down to the very core of her being.
Uncontrollably, she reached down and grabbed Zelda's hair, pulling the all too willing nurse's mouth closer to the maelstrom of her burning cunt. She was wracked with the spasms of her orgasms, deep, wet convulsions that ripped her from any semblance of reality and dropped her onto the feathery clouds of such pure satisfaction that she wanted to cry and scream, rant and rip things to pieces. Instead, the wild feeling slowly ebbed until Ellen could only hear the sound of her own heart, loud within her mind and almost as loud as the wind and thunder outside. Her legs stiffened and she arched herself until Zelda's punishing tongue was forced from the elemental core of her desire.
Zelda knew what had happened. She rolled back onto her haunches and let Ellen's legs fall limply together. The girl's eyes were tightly closed again, but this time it was not in that fearful anticipation of what she was going to get, but closed they were, tightly closed in remorse perhaps but more than likely in the deep throes of total completion. Zelda lay down beside the girl and softly kissed her eyelids, her hands, her neck, her shoulders. There must be a moment of quiet, Zelda said to herself, a moment like this before it all turns very different.
She was burning herself, but she held herself back, knowing that Antonio was about to come in. He must be very excited, she thought. Her hand betrayed her own excitement, creeping down between her damp thighs and finding some small solace in the touch of her clit. A quick look at the window and she knew that Antonio would read her signal. She waited, once more leaning over Ellen's body and kissing the eyelids. Soon, pretty one, I'll let him have you.
"Very nice, Mees Gruder."
She knew that he was there, but she was still surprised when she saw him standing at the doorway. She had not heard him enter, but then the wind and the rain were making enough noise for anyone to have come in without her knowing it. But she was expecting him and still she was surprised, surprised especially at his voice.
Ellen cried out as soon as she heard his voice and made an attempt to run from the bed, but Zelda held her close and whispered into her ear. Fear not, quiet, and other little words that seemed all right for the moment but there was the burly first mate, standing there and looking at the two of them, looking especially at her, at Ellen. She cried again and turned her face into Zelda's bosom, seeking consolation. "Touching."
"Be gentle with her, Tonio," Zelda said. She put her hand under the girl's chin. "Ellen, dear, listen to me. You like what happened to you just now, didn't you? Well, there is something just as wonderful that 'Tonio will do. It's something so different that you'll wonder whether you will ever want what I have done, but you'll see, soon enough, that both are very good. Now, relax, Ellen, and enjoy."
She held the girl by the shoulders, her powerful arms easily controlling the frightened teenager as Antonio moved stealthily across the room. Ellen looked up again and saw him closer. Then, with a super effort, she broke from Zelda's grasp and ran for the door, but Antonio tripped her and sent her sprawling. He was in no mood for gentleness, and somewhere in Zelda's mind she didn't really want to object to what was about to take place.
Antonio's hand flashed down and wrapped into Ellen's hair. He pulled her to her feet, his dark eyes flashing the hungry need in his loins. "Listen, little cunt, and listen well. I'm going to fuck you. There's no doubt that you're going to get fucked. But there are two ways you can do it, willingly or otherwise. We'll both enjoy it if you cooperate. If you don't, I'll still enjoy it. Is that clear?"
The pain seared through her scalp as the man held her nearly off her feet by the hair. She was more frightened than she had ever been in her life. And she was still weak from Zelda's mouth, but something inside her kept telling her that Antonio was bad and that he was going to hurt her, no matter what she did. But his eyes, she thought. He wants me and he'll kill me. It was just a momentary flash across her intelligence, but it was enough to make her realize that she was totally helpless. Zelda, she noticed, was simply standing by the bed and almost seemed anxious to see her raped.
Antonio's knife flashed under her chin. Ellen saw it and let the tears flow, causing wavery patterns of the two adults in the room. Then she relaxed. Antonio pushed her over to the bed where she dropped down, feeling without hope and without friends. Let him do his damnedest, she thought, and put her face in her hands.
What a strange sense of excitement, Zelda thought, and watched as Antonio stripped his shorts off and stood before the teenager with his throbbing erection. There was a perverse sense of exhilaration that shot through her entire being as she watched him pull the girl's hair again and steer his enormous cock toward her tear-stained face. She could feel the searing heat of her own passion from her toes to her head as the girl sat passively in front of that marvelous cock, fearing and fascinated by its immensity, its heat, its promise of such power.
Ellen's hands dropped from her face when Antonio had grabbed her hair, but she could feel no urge to resistance when he shoved his hard penis so close to her. Her mouth was closed, but she didn't know that was where he wanted to put his meat. She felt suspended for a long time until suddenly Antonio's other hand reached down and squeezed open her jaws. Her lips parted wetly, tear-soaked and limp, and then his cock was inside her mouth, thick and almost gagging and pleasing and frightening. His powerful fingers still held her jaws open, but she made no effort to close them around the fleshy pole. She was too surprised by his oral attack to know what was happening and then it was too late. The cock was in her mouth and when she finally tried to pull away, his other hand, fingers entwined in her hair, yanked her head forward until the thick member was jammed into her mouth almost down to her tonsils. She coughed, gagged, and fought to pull away, but he held her fast, squeezing her jaws until they ached, until she calmed enough to hear his voice, low and threatening. "Use your tongue, you little slut, use your tongue or I'll rip your head off your neck. Lick the end of that cock. Lick it good."
Tentatively, she let her until then frozen tongue lash out against the hot knob of his penis. Her saliva formed and mixed with the salty taste of his flesh. She swallowed and found a strange sensation running through her body. She licked the head of his cock again and the same shudder of fear or pleasure struck her again. Again her tongue flicked over the swollen glans and then again and again until she shuddered. Cautiously, her hand stole up Antonio's leg and found the heavy sack of his testicles. Curious was all that Ellen could think, but he shoved his dick farther into her throat and made her wince, but it was not unpleasant and she licked his penis more rapidly.
"That's more like it," he said softly, easing his cock in and out of her mouth. "A few more lessons and I think you'll become a great cock-sucker." He moaned and then pulled himself from the warmth of her head.
"But that's enough for now. Just lay back on the bed, baby. It's time you got something where it really belongs."
Ellen felt herself pushed back onto the cover of the bed, but she seemed hardly aware of what was happening to her. It was all so dreamlike, she thought, a nightmare, and yet such a pleasant one. The cock in her mouth had excited her and in the moment before Antonio spread her legs wide and shoved that same cock deep into her cunt, she felt a wave of revulsion. It passed as quickly as the thick stem of his manhood, brutally and quickly, rammed itself between her widespread thighs, sinking deep into the inner heat of her vagina, stretching wide the walls and sending a searing pain through her abdomen. But the pain passed as the Zelda-prepared moisture of Ellen's cunt eagerly accepted the massive member. Then pain again as Antonio withdrew and plunged back into her, sinking ever deeper into her body.
She felt ripped at first, but then it began to subside, that swollen pressure that almost made her nauseated, and it was slowly being replaced by sensations that she had only faintly experienced with her fingers and the tongues of Zelda and Joan. This was real. It all came shattering down to her that she was finally being fucked, fucked, fucked by a man, and she gloried in it, wrapping her plump thighs tightly around Antonio's waist and moaning her pleasure sounds into the flesh of his shoulder. Then it was over and just as though they had called up a cue to the sky, the storm let up, the wind howled down to a mere breeze and the moon broke through the dark clouds.
Antonio sat naked in the chair by the table, drinking right from the bottle of brandy. He watched Zelda clean up the girl, show her how to take care of herself, whispering woman things. It had been good, he thought, tight and sweet and surprising that the girl had taken to cock so readily. She sucked out of fear, but she joined the fucking out of pleasure. He could wait patiently for Zelda to finish with the girl. He was tired, but he knew that the woman was probably as horny as hell and he also knew that he would be able to take care of her rampant desires after the girl had gone to her own quarters.
Zelda made some more tea and brandy for Ellen and then walked her back to her room. The girl was embarrassed and hardly said a word, but Zelda knew that that would pass and that she would be ready for another night before too long. When the nurse returned to her own room, she glanced quickly at Antonio, saw his thick cock swollen with need and turned out the lantern. He didn't disappoint her that night.
CHAPTER THREE
"I heard some funny rumors around this place, Tony." The first mate stopped hauling in the rubber raft and looked at his young companion. Martin Kelly was a good-looking kid, seventeen or so and built like an athlete.
"Such as, my friend?"
"Such as you and Miss Gruder making out in the sack," Martin said.
Antonio pulled at the rope and helped drag the raft full of fish over the surf and onto the beach before answering. "So what? She's a very nice lady, huh, kid? You like that stuff?"
Martin blushed to the roots of his blond hair and gave a strangled laugh and a shrug of his shoulder. But he knew that what Antonio had said was pretty close to being right. He had seen old Gruder walking around in her shorts and brief halter and he found himself thinking of her totally naked and with him. It had been a long time since he had been with a girl.
"Well, you better watch out or she'll get you," Antonio said, laughing loud, much to Martin's embarrassment.
The boy said nothing but threw himself into the daily task of getting the first catch of the day cleaned and salted down as Antonio directed, making vulgar comments about Martin and Zelda. The boy ignored them and continued to clean fish.
The had caught enough fish and clams for the next three meals in about two hours and later had them dressed for cooking or storing. Antonio left Martin then and went off to attend to something else. He didn't tell Martin what it was.
After the work was done, the boy went back to the surf, diving expertly over the crest of the first wave and swimming effortlessly out into the blue calm water of the lagoon. He swam around for half hour and would have continued but the noise on the beach attracted his attention. He saw Joan and Ellen, Ronnie and Mary Pendergast running up and down the surf. From the distance he watched Joan's big boobs rolling under the skimpy top and thought that she was without a bra, hell, knew she was without a bra. And he knew, too that she was pretty much on the make for him, and, though he felt a stirring in his loins for the nubile teenager, he knew that she didn't really turn him on all that much. There was something too forward about her. that made him feel less a man than he was. But he thought about it, knowing that it was flattering to be liked in the way a man likes to be liked. It was a very physical thought he had then about Joan and with the quickening of his pulse he dove under the surface and swam underwater for a minute, breaking to the surface again with a splash and a gasp for air.
He listened to the kids squealing and yelling in the water for a minute and then made his way to the beach, dropping down on the hot sand and breathing deeply. Martin watched the group for a while and then turned his attention to the surf, relaxing to its sound and the heat of the sun on his belly. For being shipwrecked, he mused, this wasn't too bad.
The sound of the surf and the other kids changed suddenly and Martin turned his head. Bob Haas, the big kid son of some banker, obnoxious, but tough-looking, had arrived and was wrestling with Mary. Martin looked on without saying anything while the other kids continued to run up and down the edges of the surf, playing some sort of ball-tag with a clod of dried seaweed. He was about to go back to his reverie on the surf and the sun when he heard the girl suddenly scream.
"Don't. Please, Bob, you're hurting me," Mary was saying. Still Martin didn't move, but he continued to watch, the peace of the morning broken for the moment. "Let go."
He couldn't hear what Bob was saying, but he saw that the party was getting rough. Bob had his hand under Mary's shorts and his mouth trying to catch hers for a kiss, but the girl kept twisting her head away.
Mary, he knew, was just not the type to take that kind of bold assault, but Bob was a lot bigger and stupid, perhaps, in not recognizing that the girl didn't want anything to do with him. Martin finally got up, dusted the sand from his damp behind and walked over to the struggling pair.
"Let her alone, Bob," he said quietly.
The muscular bully looked up and withdrew his hand from under Mary's shorts. He glared at Martin and then stood up. "You gonna make me?"
"She's not interested," Martin said, watching Mary as she got up, straightened her shorts and walked off from the two of them and rejoined the others. "So leave her alone."
"Kiss my ass," Bob said. "You find your own cunt and let me alone. I'm gonna make that broad."
"You're stupid. We're not going to be here forever, and if you force yourself on her, she'll holler bloody murder. Besides, I can't really blame her for not being interested in you."
"A wise ass," Bob said, stepping closer to Martin and shoving him on the shoulder. It was an open-palm punch, like a stiff-arm in football. Martin recoiled and then shoved Bob. But the other kid had been waiting and slammed his fist into Martin's side. It threw him off balance, off just enough for Bob to throw another punch and roll Martin down to the sand. They tumbled over in the hot sand, trading punches and curses. Then Martin flipped Bob clear and stood up. The other boy didn't get up right away and it seemed like the fight was over. They didn't say anything to each other; their eyes said all there was to say. Martin looked down and then turned away.
"Fuck you," Bob cried out from the sand and hurled the stick of driftwood at Martin, catching the blond boy in the back of the head, turning the golden hair suddenly red with blood as the stick did its damage. Martin turned to come back, but the blow had made him dizzy. He staggered then fell. Bob ran to him, apologizing and then ran away.
Zelda heard about the incident from the others who had helped Martin to the infirmary. She cleaned and dressed the wound, actually just a minor cut with no sign of any concussion. Still she couldn't be entirely sure, so she had the boy rest in her room, the coolest one at the camp for a couple of hours. He protested that he was all right, but she was very persuasive.
An hour after he had been lying down, Zelda came in and began talking to him, even fixed some tea. "I hope that this will be the only fight that we have while we're stranded here," she said, serving the tea to Martin who had sat up on the edge of the bed. "As long as we're on this island, we'll have to work doubly hard to get along well with each other. I should think that you would know that, Martin. You're a natural leader, and I've been proud of the way you've helped with the fishing and making our lives comfortable."
Martin sipped the hot tea, strange brew he thought for a hot tropical afternoon, but it felt warm and sweet going down. There wasn't much he could reply to Zelda's sermonizing. Of course, he knew that everyone should get along together. But he looked up at her and nodded his agreement, and his thoughts went back to his earlier conversation with Antonio. He wondered if the first mate was really making out with her. Slowly his gaze fell from her eyes down her deep cleavage and then to the full ripeness of her thighs tightly encased in the shorts. Her legs were slightly apart and Martin could see the fabric molded against the crotch, perfectly outlining the crease of her cunt and the soft swell of her pubes.
He felt a flush of embarrassment when she spoke. "Is something the matter, Martin?" She said it softly, knowing all too well what was on the boy's mind. She had not been blind to the way his gaze dropped down and examined her body. She was tempted for an instant to open her legs ever wider, but thought better of it. Let him feel a little flushed, she thought.
"I think that you had better rest a bit longer. A blow on the head doesn't show too many symptoms until a few hours later. Just lie down, Martin. I'll be right here." She reached over and took the cup from him, urging him back onto the cot with her cool hand against the boy's warm flesh. There was nothing wrong with him, she felt certain, but she liked to see his strong young body stretched out on her bed. She knew what she was going to do, but that would have to wait until later in the evening. She let him rest, placing a damp cloth over his forehead.
Zelda felt nervous when she touched the boy's body, a shiver of anticipation running through her. He was quite different from Ronnie, she thought, and he would take some very special attention, but she knew that she had to have his muscular body wrapped between her thighs, knew that she wanted to feel his cock deep in her belly and in her mouth. She was almost tempted to make the first overture toward him, but the sun was still high in the tropic sky and there would be too much talk if she stayed in her quarters with him very long. Almost all of her charges had heard about the fight and Martin's injury, and she knew that they would be waiting down at the beach for her assurances. Martin had closed his eyes, she noticed, and she left him in the cool of her room to report to the other kids.
They listened to her, intently at first, as she gave the medical condition of Martin, and then with less interest as she repeated her sermon about working and getting along together. She dismissed them and watched halfheartedly as they scattered back to the camp or down the beach, very far away from her, she noticed, and Ronnie and Ellen farther still.
Zelda walked slowly along the beach in the opposite direction from the rest of the kids, knowing that she would undoubtedly run into Bob Haas somewhere. He must have been frightened, but Martin did say that he first made some apology. That was in his favor, but then he was frightened and that was what made him apologize, she thought. No matter. She'd have to talk to him, give him the rah-rah speech she had given the others and try to elicit a promise from him to be a little more cooperative. He was not too bright, she thought, and as she kicked at the sand she realized that he might be useful to her, useful just because he was a bully type.
Knowing what had started the fight, Zelda knew that she had a way to make Bob Haas one of her more useful pupils. She was surprised, of course, that he had made a pass at the virginal Mary. She would have suspected that Joan would have been the target of his advances, but then, on second thought, she realized that Joan was too much a woman for Bob, too confident, too experienced for him. Zelda laughed and walked on, edging close to the surf as she became aware of the heat of the sand.
She didn't find Haas on her walk that afternoon, but the day seemed so perfect that she continued walking down the beach, kicking sand and old memories. Surely, she thought, they would be found one day soon. It didn't seem possible to her that the wealthy parents of a dozen children would not raise heaven and hell to find them when the schooner failed to radio a position report or failed to reach its next destination. But in the meantime, she reminded herself, she was going to make the most of it, of the kids, taking her pleasures where she found them and savoring each one to the fullest degree.
When she returned to the camp area, everyone was eating dinner. She greeted them and helped herself to the baked fish and clams. Delicious, she thought, but, oh, for a bucket of melted butter! Antonio had offered her some hot coconut oil once before, but it was too heavy.
Since nothing had really happened for the two weeks that they were shipwrecked, the big news was Martin's run-in with Bob. Zelda caught the whisperings around the camp fire and saw that both Bob and Martin were eating, at opposite side of the area. There was no one around either of them. She weighed taking both of them in hand and making them become friends in front of the gathering, but dropped the idea when she saw Bob leave for his room. She would talk to him later. In the meantime, her thoughts were skittering around the erotic possibilities of Martin and over the butter-less clams.
Some of the younger people came over to her and asked the perennial question of when she thought they would be rescued and she gave them her constant reply that she had no. idea and they were all to make the most of it and keep up their spirits, for rescued they would be. It was almost a nighttime ritual with one or more of them. At times, she felt like screaming at them but she held herself in check, knowing that she was the leader, the strong force in their suddenly directionless lives.
Martin finished eating and started for the beach when he was called back by Zelda. The others had vanished to their rooms, fatigued from the length of their day and resigned to the light-less nights which offered no way of reading in bed. Zelda was thankful for the full days of freedom and the exertions of the beach. There had never been any sleeping problems.
"I want to take another look at your head," Zelda said when the blond boy came over to her. "Come over to my room before you turn in."
Martin looked at her closely, trying to fathom the deep blackness of her eyes and trying, too, to keep his eyes from wandering down to her cleavage. He nodded and walked away toward the beach. Zelda knew that he wanted to swim, something that she wished he wouldn't do, but she felt that he had sense enough to keep his bandaged head out of the water. Let him swim a little, she mused. Some fatigue and he'll be ready to feel some excitement.
"He likes you, Mees Gruder," Antonio said, startling her as always by the way he suddenly appeared behind her or someplace when she didn't expect him. "He told me this morning while we were fishing."
" 'Tonio, I wish you'd drop that damned "Mees" shit. Everyone here knows that's phony."
"Just a little fun, Zelda, my darling cunt," he said. "By the way, while you're fucking up to that kid, I'll be having a little fun with someone else."
"Didn't you get enough of that last night?"
"Why, Zelda darling, I think you're jealous. But no, one has hardly broken in the girl yet."
Zelda looked him in the eye. "Suppose the little girl doesn't want to go with you?"
Antonio laughed quietly, his white teeth glistening in the light of the dying fire. "But the conchita and I have already made our arrangements, Zelda darling. It was she who asked me. See you later and have fun." He disappeared into the shadows, his laugh trailing after.
Zelda shrugged and went to her room. The Kelly kid would be coming back from the beach soon and she wanted to make everything something special. She took down a couple of water tumblers and placed them on the table next to her medical bag. The glasses like the table and the quonset huts had been gifts of the previous military establishment tenants. She poured herself a stiff drink and sat down, sipping it slowly as she waited for Martin to come to her.
I'm going to fuck myself silly before we're rescued, she thought. She sipped her drink and let her hand drop between her legs. She realized then that she was hot and sticky from the day's activities and suddenly rose from the chair and stripped out of her clothes, slipping into the robe that had been among some of the items washed ashore after the wreck. She would bathe for Martin and, taking the lantern, left the room and walked down to the fresh-water pool.
She propped the lantern against a rock, dropped her robe, and stepped into the small beam of light that shone on the water. It was cool and refreshing, despite the lack of soap, but she felt cleaner. She swam a little way out into the water, rolling onto her back to see the brilliant stars overhead and the feeble light of the lantern on the shore. Actually, she hadn't swum very far but the effect was like being miles from the little lantern. She dove under and opened her eyes, catching the glow of the lamp even through the water, flickering wildly from the wave movements of her dive. She swam underwater toward it, feeling her hair stream out behind her and liking the sensuous feeling.
Zelda had never been much for swimming alone or in the dark, but this night she felt entranced with the sensation and idly wondered why she had not done it more often during the last two weeks. When her head broke the surface, very near the shore and the lantern, she heard giggling. It was just an instant but she heard it and knew that one or more kids were at the pool. She almost wanted to stay in the water and wait until they left, but that would have been foolish. She rose and acted as if she had not heard the voices and sat down on the cool mossy rock next to the lantern. Let 'em see me, she thought. They'll all be seeing me one way or another. She listened as the warm air dried her flesh and tried to hear something in the brush, but the giggling had gone away and after a few minutes she felt that she was all alone again. Slowly she got up and put on her robe, then, picking up the lantern, she returned to her room. The water had refreshed her and she felt more than ready for Martin. She waited.
He knocked at her door just as she was pouring another drink for herself. "Come in." They exchanged some pleasantries, but Zelda could see that he was a little ill at ease looking at her in her robe. "Would you like a little brandy? It might be good for you. Come on," she added smiling, "I know you've had a few drinks before, a young man like you."
He nodded and accepted the tumbler that Zelda pushed toward him. "My head feels fine," he said, wincing at the first sip of the brandy.
She felt that there was something else that he wanted to say, but she knew that it would have to be her move to make him come to her. She let her robe slip just a bit to reveal a few more inches of smooth-fleshed thigh. Her eyes never left his face and his sudden reaction to the sight of her bare flesh made his eyes flicker downward and then up quickly, only to pause at the opening at her bosom. Still Zelda felt that she only had to wait a few more minutes. Let the brandy do some of the work, she thought.
Martin gulped the remainder of his drink and looked around the room, his eyes pausing longingly at the slightly unmade bed at the other side of the room. He wanted to say something to this woman, something that would make her accept him as more of a man than his years indicated, but there was nothing that came to his tongue.
"I think I got the bandage wet," he finally blurted out. "That's what made me come out of the water. I guess there are probably sharks around here."
An opening, Zelda thought. Nervous. He wants what I show him. A moment of tease longer. Hurry.
"I'll look at it," she said and rose, carrying the lantern with her. What an unnecessary gesture, she realized. He could have turned around on the chair. Forget it. She put the lantern down beside him and very professionally examined the wet bandage, lifting it off to see that the wound was clean. Deftly, she fixed another plaster and covered the cut in his head, but her fingers lingered over the bandage and she leaned forward, swaying her big boobs out to brush against his bare shoulders.
Suddenly he turned to her and his face came hot and eager against her breast. Now, she thought, and pulled his head close to her throbbing body, letting him feel and smell her body's musky woman odor. She sighed as his fingers tentatively reached for the edges of the robe and eased one side apart; slowly, slidingly, maddeningly, he scraped the thin fabric back to expose one heavy and perfectly formed breast. Zelda sighed again and pushed herself against his burning face.
"Quick. Get out of those wet shorts, Martin," she said huskily and then stepped back from the boy on the chair and dropped her robe. "Is this what you want? I want you to have me, Martin. Now turn off the lantern and come with me."
He almost knocked the light over turning it out, and, as Zelda settled herself down on the bed, she could hear him rustling out of his shorts and stumbling across the bare floor. A fraction of time was all it took, but it seemed suspended as Zelda waited for him and suddenly he was there, his hot body, tightly muscled and damp with the nervous sweat of anticipation, was pressing up against hers. His mouth found her mouth and she eagerly opened her lips to accept his kiss. A gentle brush of mouths and then her arm snaked behind his head and pulled him down closer to her, jaws parting and tongues quickly entwining in wet searing contact.
Zelda's hand slid down his back, over his rock-hard buttocks, then slipped between their straining bodies and fastened on his rigid cock. She squeezed the swollen penis and began stroking it, slowly and tantalizingly until she could hear him groan with the pleasure. He pulled away from her mouth and ran his face down to her bosom, sucking first one nipple into the heat of his mouth until it was stiff with desire and the other. She, too, moaned her pleasure in what he was doing and stroked his cock faster.
"Go down on me, Martin," she whispered. "That's what a man does, Martin. Lick my pussy." Another moan of desire escaped her lips and she began to pump his cock as fast as she could until she felt his athletic body slide down her damp flesh, leaving a new trail of moisture and heat. She let go of his cock finally and spread her legs wide, bringing her feet up in the air and rolling her round hips up to meet the boy's mouth.
Martin had never done anything like this before, but he had heard about it and the fever that raced through his body then made him forget all that he had ever been taught about things like this being bad. He felt her warm damp thighs slowly close around his neck, then rest gently on his shoulders and the excitement drove him mad with desire. He lowered his face to the humid pouch of the woman's box and stuck his tongue into the damp folds of her pussy, tasting the tartness of her juices and finding it to his liking. Later he would deny that aspect of what he was doing, but in the heat of his own lust her cunt was the greatest delicacy he had ever tasted.
Zelda's hands went behind his head and steered his tongue and mouth to the pulsating nub of pleasure between her legs. She enclosed his head in the cushion of her soft thighs and slowly rotated her hips, grinding the hole of pleasure closer to his young mouth. She rose quickly up the standard scale of pleasure, moaning and breathing heavily as she sought for the bursting release of the orgasm that was just on the edge of her flight.
Her blood boiled and her emotions crested, and then she was descending down the elevator shaft, sucking in her breath and humping her ass up and down on the covers of the bed, slamming her pussy against Martin's mouth and tongue until she felt the final spasm that tightened her stomach muscles and made her legs stiffen out on either side of the boy.
She cried over and over again of how wonderfully he had eaten her cunt and felt a liar at the same time for her mind was thrilling more to the idea of making the clean-cut, ail-American boy eat her and eat her and like it. She gloried in the power she knew she held over him and when he pulled himself up over her body, she gladly spread her legs wide again and accepted his over-stimulated cock into the eager wet lips of her cunt. She would give him a ride. Oh! yes such a ride!
Her hands slipped down and guided his cock true to the target and while his face pressed down on her breast she wrapped her legs around his narrow waist, her hips high off the bed and rolling madly to the tune of his boyish thrusts. The song of lust was sweet but much too short. Zelda had forgotten how over-stimulated the lad had become and when he shot his load of hot sperm into her seething cavity and collapsed in exhaustion over her body, she continued to hold him in the vise of her sweaty thighs, milking his cock with her abdominal twitching until she felt his worm of love slip out of the unsatisfied box. Yet, this too, was a mastery of him, and she knew that it would not take long for the boy-man to come back hard and strong and tear once more into her velvet purse.
Zelda let his cock fall limply away from her and relaxed her legs to allow him to roll off her body. It was a tender moment for him, he all quiet and appreciative and thankful for the gift of her body that she had given him while she was smiling, gloating to herself, and waiting to let him restore his vigor.
"Oh that was good, so good," she whispered to him as he pressed his face into the nape of her neck. "But let me up. I'll get us some brandy, dear."
Zelda took a long swallow of the brandy and then placed the glass on the floor at the foot of the bed. A shaft of moonlight broke through the window, illuminating the room dimly but enough for her to see that Martin was nearly asleep, eyes closed and breath regular. Not for long, she thought, and bent over his body, taking the limp, sticky cock between her fingers and rolling back the foreskin. She manipulated it for a moment and then lowered her head, opening her mouth slightly, lips still moist with brandy. Her tongue licked out and coiled over the sleeping penis. He hardly stirred. Zelda moved an inch lower, pressing her lips over the head, closing them tightly around the limp flesh to form a hot ring and then sucked the meat inside, letting the glans grate across her teeth.
Martin twitched, made a soft moan and woke from the light sleep. "Oh. Oh." He felt his cock buried in the warmth of her face, but for a few seconds he didn't realize what the terribly beautiful sensations were and then he saw her head at his crotch.
His cock was not hard, but Zelda felt the swelling as she worked her tongue and teeth over the sensitive nerves, teasing, sucking, licking, trying to swallow his stick of flesh. She dropped her head over the still limp cock until its entire flaccid length was coiled inside her head and her lips and nose were pressed against the wiry brush of his pubic hair. But that was only for an instant that she had her mouth full of him. Martin's young, thick cock then began to swell rapidly, stiffening out and lengthening until Zelda's mouth was forced to make room for it by raising up. It was hard and just right for her, but she continued to suck and bob her head up and down over the swollen member, tasting his salty flesh mixed with the dried-juice smell of her own cunt.
Martin's breath gasped painfully, pleasurably as Zelda's mouth worked his cock into a new frenzy. He heaved his hips upward to meet her mouth, tried to ram his cock deep into her mouth, but she was wise and held him back, held him from an orgasm that his mind knew was about to explode through him. Then she changed her position. Her mouth was down at his scrotum, wet-lipped mouth sucking in his testicles, sending him into new spasms of frenzy.
Just as he thought that he could stand it no longer, she stopped and crawled up over his hot, damp body, and rolling her firm round buttocks tauntingly, lowered her love-lubricated orifice over his pounding cock. She sank down, crushing his thighs with the firm flesh of her own and then began a quick rolling of her hips. There was no perceptible movement from the outside, but her insides squeezed his cock, milked it.
He needed no encouragement to put his hands over her large inviting breasts nor to crush them in his hands, pinching the nipples more erect than they had been when he sucked them. She moaned with the new pleasure, so unexpected and unprompted, but so desired. She arched her body forward, swinging her breasts down toward his mouth and he knew what to do with the fiery globes of flesh. He mouthed each for a moment, hardly giving one enough before he moved to the other.
Zelda loved the dominant position, and it was not only the psychological mastery that it gave her, but the pure animal pleasure of being able to control the contact of his cock in and around her cunt, the ability to steer it with her body until it reached all the secret places of her sensitive core and make them throb with expectant release. She would roll her hips and crush down on him and then raise her body until just the thrusting head of his cock was nudging at the door of her cunt and then she would plunge down on his manly piston-rod until it felt as though it would stab through her mouth.
It was with a supreme thought of control that she reached her peak and pumped herself down rapidly over his penis, ramming herself down on it, until she felt her will and her body tense and then grow limp with passion-filled fatigue.
Martin's own passion rose quickly with her hurried movements and he, too, reached his peak and shot himself into her, holding his hard-on as long as he could before resting in deep gasps for air. Zelda's weight pressed down on him, but he didn't care. His fatigue was too great to care and he was glad that he was strong enough to hold her, to let her rest out her final spasms of lust on top of his body, and he never once felt that he was trapped beneath the weight of her passionate flesh. It was something that would come later.
Zelda had no idea of what time it was when Martin finally left her and returned to his own room. She didn't care and she wasn't tired. After he had gone, she lit the lantern again and poured another drink, sipped it thoughtfully, and wondered idly where her next keen sense of fulfillment would come from. Martin had been very good, but in the stillness of the tropic night, the real warmth of the air getting to her, she felt a desire for the soft flesh of a young girl. An idle thought. She laughed and told herself that it was a real thought and she would have it reality before long.
CHAPTER FOUR
Zelda woke with a furry taste in her mouth. She knew it was the brandy, but there was the fatigue of the boy's body, too. She felt lousy and she knew it was from what she had done, what she had been doing. Yet, what else was there? She tried to justify her actions with her charges, but on a purely intellectual basis there was simply none. In the diffused glow of the bright sunlight streaming through her windows, she looked at her body. It wasn't jaded or turned like the portrait of Dorian Gray, but she felt some of the wickedness come through her conscience, a hangover, both boozy and from puritanical upbringing, she thought.
The passionate nature of the night was shunted aside as she thought of how she must be able to keep control of the dozen kids. And then she thought of Bob Haas. She had let him go the night before, concerned more for her own sexual satisfaction than she was in exercising her authority.
But the daylight reminded her of her duties, and she knew that she would have to have a talk with Bob Haas before the end of the day. As she dressed, she resolved herself to the uncomfortable task. In the last analysis, she didn't really like the boy at all. Again she was hit with more self-chastisement. Supervisors should not have those kinds of thoughts, she reminded herself.
Hours around the camp, she thought, had become much too lax. Breakfast had already been prepared and served for all the kids and she had missed it. Yet no one had bothered to come to her quarters and remind her of the time. Were they not caring about her anymore? She let the thought fall away from her like the sand under her feet as she walked toward the cooking area. Only Antonio was waiting.
"Some fruit, Zelda?"
She nodded and accepted the wild melon slice, cool and wet, despite the heat of the day. Ellen, she noticed, was sitting under a tree not far from the cooking area, but far enough away so that Antonio's voice would not be heard. Zelda quickly surmised what the relationship was, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. What could she say? It was she who had really seduced the girl and turned her over to Antonio. Now it was the girl's turn to make decisions. If she liked it.... To hell with it, Zelda thought and started to turn away from her dark-eyed lover.
"Don't be jealous," he said softly. "After all, you had the ail-American boy last night. So what's the difference? I thought we had an agreement. But in case you've forgotten, remember this. I'm the only one around with a weapon, and I'm the only one who knows how to use it. Those kids might rebel one of these days and just might slit your throat, Mees Gruder."
She walked away from him, but she walked in the opposite direction of Ellen. What he had said might be true, but she was still in control. But she didn't want to argue about it then. Her head hurt and she was shaking just a little bit. She knew she needed rest.
"Hey, Zelda," he said even more softly. "We're on the same side. And just in case you're interested, you're much better in the sack than the kid over there."
Zelda managed a smile as she turned to him. "In that case, don't rub my nose in it, darling." She paused for a moment, wanting to slam some other insult into him, but she remembered her unfinished business. "By the way, partner, would you get Bob Haas to come to my quarters? I have to give him a little hell for the fight yesterday."
"If that's hell, Zelda, then what can heaven be like?"
She ignored the remark and glared at him. He smiled and nodded, affirming that he would get the boy for her and make him go to her room.
Her confidence renewed that Antonio was still frightened of her in some way, Zelda changed directions and walked over to Ellen.
The girl smiled up, a smile of intrigue and knowledge. Miss Gruder no longer scared her or represented the authority as far as she was concerned. Zelda returned the smile.
"It was a great evening," she said, still looking right into Zelda's face. "I managed to bring Antonio off about three times with my mouth. Do you enjoy sucking cock, too, Miss Gruder? I just love it."
"I'd rather not discuss it," Zelda said.
"It's better than eating cunt," the girl said. "A lot better, especially when Antonio licks mine at the same time. Groovy. Ever had it that way?"
Zelda resisted the impulse to slap the girl's face. "We'll talk about it sometime. I was just wondering if you had seen Bob around this morning. If you do, have him come to my quarters. I want to talk to him."
She turned away from the girl, not wanting to hear any more of the girl's foul tongue. For an instant, Zelda felt that twinge of conscience again, feeling that she had generated a monster in Ellen, but it passed quickly and she walked away from the smiling Antonio and the smug-faced teenager.
Zelda walked down to the beach and sat in the sand, running the soft white granules through her toes and gazing indifferently out onto the blue water. Her eye caught the splash in the distance and she realized that it was Martin, swimming alone again and much too far out. She wanted to cry out to him, but she caught herself, realizing that he looked so perfect there in the lonely water. She laid down on the sand instead, letting the hot sun bake the guilty thoughts and the hangover out of her system. He would be all right, she thought.
The salt water stung Martin's eyes, blurring the shore. He saw someone come down there and sit, but he didn't think about who it might be and he didn't care. The water was his cleansing medium. It would take away the filth of the night before and, even as he thought about it, he wanted to plunge to the bottom of the clear lagoon and stay there placidly among the thousands of colorful fish and the inviting beckoning of the dark growth there.
It seemed in the brilliance of the day to all have been a dream. He wanted to say to himself that he had not put his mouth against Grader's cunt, not licked the tart-smelling crotch, not been a cunt-lapper, derisive butt of so many jokes. But he had. And he opened his mouth for a penitential swallow of salt water, spitting it high over his head as if to clear himself in that way. He began to wonder then about the story that the kid Ronnie had told after he was called to Grader's quarters. Did she suck him off? The kid said she did. To hell with it, Martin thought, and dove under the blue water again. He felt that he had done something that was against his code, but she had done it to him. She was really the bad one, he thought, surfacing at last and taking great gulps of air. She was the bad one. And he would remain pure.
The sun became too warm for her and Zelda got up from the sand, brushing the stuff from her body. She looked again out onto the lagoon and saw Martin. He was still swimming strong. There was no need to worry about him, she thought, and then she turned and walked back to her room. It was only slightly cooler there, but there was the brandy, and she felt that she needed the drink then, a kind of a hair-of-the-dog cure, most effective she had been told by drinkers of long standing.
Ellen and Antonio were gone from the cooking area when she passed by, but she didn't give them much more thought. They would be experiencing everything, even in the heat of the day.
She had just settled down to a drink when one of the younger girls came in with a cut foot. Her name was Ann Zimmer, age fifteen and some months. Precocious and very well developed for her age. Zelda bandaged the cut and felt the stirrings of the previous night after Martin had left her. The girl seemed to be willing for anything, Zelda thought, but then, she added, all the damned kids of this group seemed willing for just about anything.
Zelda smiled her most professional smile, a condescending smile that she had always twitted in private and yet knew was effective. She could see in the girl's face that the girl wanted just a little more than a bandage, but did she want that much? Zelda fought with herself in the instant that it took to think about it. And she gave in.
Ann Zimmer was one of the early developers, both physically and emotionally. Zelda thought that she might not be a virgin, but she wasn't sure. The girl had almost the same cockiness, if that was the right word for a girl, that Joan had, a kind of worldliness beyond her years. It was not entirely unbecoming, Zelda thought, but there was something very irritating about the girl's attitude, too, something that made Zelda want to hurt, subjugate.
"That should do it," Zelda said, sitting back on her chair after bandaging the foot. Yet the girl didn't make any move to get away, not even when Zelda picked up her glass of brandy and sipped it slowly. The nurse tried to avoid the girl's eyes, thinking that indifference would be the best bait to get the girl's young body next to her own.
Zelda became conscious of the stillness of the hot afternoon, a quiet that made the birds silent as if any effort would only increase their discomfort. The other kids had gone somewhere else, down to the beach, Zelda surmised, or off into the jungle. Was there something about her that the girl guessed? Had Ellen told? Zelda sipped her brandy and turned finally to the girl, not caring one way or another whether the girl knew about her.
"Is there something else, Ann?"
The girl shook her head, but she still didn't get up to leave. "It's very hot, isn't it, Miss Gruder?" There was a long pause as Zelda nodded her head, choosing to remain silent also. "Miss Gruder," the girl said again, "will we be rescued pretty soon?"
There was the question again, over and over. Zelda wanted to scream that she didn't know and didn't really give a damn, but she smiled at the youngster. "That's very hard to say, Ann. We must simply make the most of what we have until help arrives.
Zelda thought for a moment that the girl was about to cry, but then she realized that the girl was just making idle conversation. She was stalling. She was waiting for something. Perhaps Ellen had told.
Without saying anything, Zelda poured herself another drink. She had turned from the girl, but she was conscious of her presence, aware of the girl's nubile young body and only too aware of how much she herself wanted to fondle that body, crush the sweet lips of her juvenile pubes to her mouth, lick deep into the virginal hole and bring out the wildest emotions that the girl had ever dreamed of. But there was that irritating quality about Ann that kept Zelda standing off, kept her from doing what she knew she wanted to do and what she felt certain the girl wanted her to do. Zelda gritted her teeth and then took another sip of brandy.
"I think that you had better run along and find the others, Ann. Perhaps you can come back this evening and we'll have more time to talk. I'm sorry, dear, but I feel the heat right now, and I think that I'll take a nap. You understand?"
Zelda turned and looked closely at the girl again. She nodded her head and her eyes swept over the soft contours of the youthful body, still girlish and yet almost fully blossomed into womanhood. Oh, yes, Zelda thought, you most certainly can come back. She was about to tell Ann that there was no need for her to go when there was a knock at the door.
Bob Haas was standing sheepishly outside the screen, big physique outlined in the glare of the mid-day sun.
"You wanted to see me, Miss Gruder?"
Zelda told Ann to run along and told Bob to come in. The two passed each other at the entry without saying a word. Ann had given the boy a slight smile, but he didn't acknowledge it.
"Sit down, Bob," Zelda said, pointing to the chair that Ann had vacated. "You know, of course, why I called you here. I won't go into the fight you had yesterday. Let's just forget that incident. Fortunately there was no serious damage done."
"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just threw it. I didn't know that it would hurt him. I didn't think that I would hit him, even."
Zelda shrugged. "It doesn't matter right now, but you must understand that we're here and we must all cooperate. We can't afford to have fights. We have to work together. We're here for survival and we're lucky to be alive. And I think that you know that."
He hung his head and nodded agreement. "But there's something that I want to tell you," he blurted out and the words said were regretted instantly.
Zelda looked at him closely. He was big for his age, spoiled, used to having his own way in everything, she thought. What does he want to tell? She almost laughed when she thought of how she guessed that he would be a good ally, an ear to the children's camp, and how she was going to make him that way. Now? "Well, Bob?"
"I didn't mean anything," he said.
"Of course, Bob. But I think that there's something bothering you. Wouldn't you like to tell me?"
He started to get up, but Zelda stepped in front of him, her blouse open more than usual to let in whatever breath of air she could find. He knew it was for the heat, yet he felt intimidated by it, too, and to look up at Zelda rather than stare at the firm, globes of her breasts. He met her eyes and then turned away. "It's Ronnie," he said softly. "Ronnie says you did something to him."
"What did Ronnie say?"
Bob stammered and the blood rushed to his face. "He said that you did something to him with your mouth."
Zelda smiled at the boy's embarrassment, tempted at first to say the words for him, but then enjoying his discomfort more and more. She urged him. "My mouth?"
Bob's face was now beet red and he tried to look away from the woman who stood before him. His eyes fell and came to rest on the bare flesh of her bosom where her blouse was open. "He said you sucked him."
"Sucked him? But what do you mean. Bob?" She was beginning to enjoy it more and more.
"He said that you sucked his, his . . . you know. He said that you sucked his prick." It came out quickly and Bob jumped to his feet and made for the door, but Zelda held him back. He tried to break loose, but she put herself between him and the door.
"Did you believe him?"
Bob turned away from her and nodded his head. Zelda wanted to laugh at him.
"Well," she said at last, "I did blow him. He was so nervous that I thought that he might hurt himself in despair. Do you understand that?"
Bob shook his head.
"It doesn't matter, but I hope that you'll put a stop to his talking about it." She knew what was burning in the boy's mind and she waited, savoring his chagrin and his tied tongue. "I wouldn't want everyone to know our little secret, Bob. And I can be very nice to those who help me out, if you know what I mean."
Zelda closed the door, making the stillness of the hot afternoon even more oppressive, but suddenly the heat didn't bother her much. She wanted to take the boy's cock, big cock, she guessed, into her mouth and suck him until he cried with delight. But she was going to do more.
Bob turned to her when he heard the door close and looked at her face. Zelda was smiling and slowly unbuttoning the rest of her blouse. "Would you? I mean do it to me, too?" Zelda dropped her blouse on the floor, exposing her full breasts, the nipples already stiff with anticipated desire.
"Take your shorts off, Bob," she said coolly. "I want to examine you closely."
He dropped his shorts and stood in front of her completely naked. His cock stuck out like a flagpole, hard and even bigger than she had imagined. She felt a quiver of desire between her legs, but she didn't show it and tried to force it away. Slowly she walked over to her chair and sat down, picking up her drink and sipping at it. "Come here, Bob," she said sharply, surprising the boy who obeyed immediately.
When he was right in front of her, she reached over and cupped his scrotum, weighing the passion-filled bag and silently approving. "Spread your legs," she said again with the sharp note of command and he spread his legs. "Wider." When he obeyed, she ran her hand under him and eased a finger into the outer ring of his ass.
"Tell me, Bob. Have you ever had a blowjob before?" He shook his head, "But you do fuck girls, don't you?"
"A couple," he said hoarsely, feeling suddenly very foolish standing in front of the semi-naked grown woman with his hard-on almost in her face. He wanted to move his cock right into her mouth, but he felt that she was the one to make the first move. So he stood there and replied uneasily to her questioning.
"Didn't the girls ever suck you off?" Again he just shook his head, his voice caught in his throat as her finger began a slow in and out pulsing at his anus. "But did you ask them to?" Again just a shake of his head. "I bet you really wanted some of them to suck your prick, though, didn't you?" Bob nodded.
"Did you ever eat a girl's cunt?"
"No," he cried out and pushed his cock toward Zelda's mouth. She stopped him by grabbing the throbbing member with her other hand, squeezing the shaft of flesh tightly in her grip.
"You've been missing half the fun of fucking, Bob," she said, smiling up at his discomforted expression. "I think that you should eat cunt before you get a blowjob, don't you?"
"I ... I . .. don't know. I've never done anything like that," he said.
"We'll change all that, won't we? If I suck your cock, will you eat my cunt?"
The blood was roaring to head. He felt dizzy and more excited than he could ever remember. "Yes, yes," he finally blurted. "I'll do anything, Miss Gruder. But please do something."
"How many times a day do you masturbate?" Zelda asked it matter-of-factly and began to stroke his cock slowly. "Once? Twice? Tell me, Bob. I have to know how passionate you are." Inside her head she was gloating as his face turned even more purple.
"Once. Sometimes not at all."
"Show me, Bob. I want to see you jack off," she whispered, releasing her hold of his cock and then guiding one of his hands down to it. "Just give me a few movements, Bob. Then I'll blow you, but jack it first."
She could see that he was reluctant, but he dared not refuse. Slowly, he worked his hand around his cock and began to rub it up and down, gradually increasing the speed as the desire for release overcame his embarrassment of Zelda's presence. He closed his eyes and beat his cock faster and faster until Zelda stopped him suddenly and pulled him close to her face.
His thick red knob glided over her lips and her tongue whipped out to cushion the glans from her teeth. She swallowed hard and began licking the sensitive underside of his penis until she heard him moaning with pleasure, felt the tightening of his buttocks around her still probing finger. Bob rolled his hips forward, sinking his cock deeper into her mouth, but she had wrapped her free hand around the base of it by then and limited his entry to the hot wet hole of her head. Then it was her turn to become the aroused one and she sucked and salivated over his prick with frenzy. Suddenly he began to shake all over and, knowing that he was about to come, Zelda rammed her finger as hard as she could up his ass just as he unloaded his thick spurt of semen into the back of her throat. Zelda sighed and swallowed it with pleasure, sucking until he was beginning to grow limp.
She washed down his love juice with a short jolt of brandy. He was still standing in front of her when she looked up at him. "Was that good?"
"Oh, yes. That's the greatest." But now the passion was ebbing and he felt like running as far from the woman as he could.
"You can get dressed, Bob, and if you want any more of the same treatment, you'll have to keep it very secret. And you can do something else, too, Bob."
"Sure. Anything at all. Just name it."
"I want you to keep me informed about everything that goes on. You know, be my secret ears when the kids are talking. If you do that for me, I'll be happy to show some other things, too. Wouldn't you like to fuck me, Bob? Stick that cock of yours into my cunt?"
He nodded, suddenly embarrassed by her words. Quickly he pulled his shorts up and walked to the door. Zelda waved good-bye, confident that he would be back with everything that she ever wanted to know about what went on behind her back.
After he had gone, Zelda stripped out of her shorts and put on her robe. The heat in the hut remained as oppressive as it had been all day, but she felt cooler in the robe, enough cooler to try to take the promised nap. Sexual excitement and a little brandy, she thought, made one helluva fine sleeping potion.
By staying very still, Zelda found that the heat did not bother her so much. She stretched out on the bed, relaxed, and felt the first soothing edges of rest come to her along with thoughts of little Ann Zimmer. She wondered momentarily whether the precocious girl would return after dark. Certainly Ann wanted something more than talk, something that Zelda would have given her had Bob not arrived on the scene. But the boy had arrived and she felt that his needs were more important.
Zelda closed her eyes and put herself to sleep, thinking of how she would make Ann, make Ann the aggressor and really humble her for the behavior Zelda disliked. The girl had been too suggestive, almost open in wanting Zelda to make a pass at her. It was the obviousness of her actions that irritated Zelda, and she would pay for them, Ann would pay for them, that is.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ann Zimmer waited until everything was quiet in the area before she ventured out and moved softly through the sand to Zelda's quarters. The moon was very bright and it reminded Ann of the times that she had sneaked down to her former nurse's house in past summers, knowing that the woman was waiting for her, waiting to give her the kind of thrills that even in the lonely fear of the damned, island Ann remembered. It seemed such a long time ago, the previous summer, but the thrills remained in her mind and she could already feel herself getting excited by the thought that Miss Gruder was the same way, a lesbian who liked to lick a young cunt, hopefully her cunt, she thought as she walked more quickly toward the nurse's hut.
The lantern in Zelda's hut was lit, and Ann could see the woman's silhouette against the blinds, a huge shadow of her head as she sat at the table. Ann hurried and then slowed and finally stopped, a moment of panic and reluctance. It crossed her mind that perhaps Miss Gruder was not like her old nurse. What then? She was almost ready to return and forget the whole thing, but there was that old burning between her legs, that expectant feeling of gratification that she had known so often before and would have continued to know if they had not been caught going at it with each other. Ann felt a flush of shame as she remembered her father walking in that night as she and the nurse were tangled up in each other's cunts, doing sixty-nine, an expression that Ann loved even though they had only done it twice before. Again she felt a moment of chagrin, but the desire was too powerful. She had to find out about Miss Gruder.
Ann knocked softly at the screen door, opening it when she heard Zelda tell her to come in. The lantern seemed much dimmer than it had from the outside, and Miss Gruder seemed more relaxed, sitting at the table drinking a cup of tea.
Zelda offered the girl tea and poured. "Now then, Ann, what can I do for you?M For a moment, Ann wanted to laugh and tell the woman that she wanted to be eaten, but she saw that Zelda was quietly serious and knew that she had to take another way to approach her.
"I don't know, Miss Gruder," she said softly, letting the tears form in her eyes. "This island. I don't know," she said, finally genuinely feeling the real panic that her passion only covered superficially. She let the tears roll down her cheeks. "I'm scared we won't ever be going home again." More tears.
To herself Zelda was smiling, reading the girl's tearful ploy with cool indifference. Under other circumstances, Zelda would have taken the girl to her bosom, comforted her with reassuring words. She would have done that that afternoon, had the girl not been so obvious about it. Still the girl did seem scared and perhaps it was real, after all. But Zelda waited for the real tears to follow and then she would make her move. She sipped her tea and waited for Ann to turn it on full force.
Ann slopped tea onto the table and she blubbered more about being afraid that they would never be going home, but Zelda gave her the quiet words that she had been repeating for the past couple of weeks, that everything was going to be all right as long as everyone kept his head and simply enjoyed themselves. But Zelda did not make a move to physically hold the girl. She knew that would come later, quite a bit later, Zelda thought as she realized how transparently the girl was trying to lure her into a relationship. Again Zelda felt that irritation of the afternoon creep into her mind. Well, she thought, Miss Zimmer would have to really put out if she wants to get that kind of loving.
Zelda poured more tea and waited, talking softly to the girl all the time and idly wondering where Antonio was. This was the type of little snit that Zelda would have enjoyed Antonio raping, would have loved to watch as the burly first mate's thick cock stretched Ann's vaginal walls until they would seem like they were splitting. The thought carried itself down to Zelda's loins, a searing suggestion that she had been left quite unsatisfied that afternoon; despite the thrill of sucking off Bob or any cock she still felt a need for herself, more so as she thought about it.
Ann had stopped crying for a few minutes and Zelda felt that perhaps her indifference had gone too far. It was a panic thought, for she knew that she wanted to have the young girl's body close to hers, taste the virginal lips, caress the big tits and make the girl so excited that her own pussy would be satisfied before Ann's. Quietly she put down her tea cup and stood up, her robe sliding suggestively open at the top as she leaned over the girl and patted her on the head.
Ann needed no further encouragement. She wrapped her arms around the soft contours of Zelda's hips, squeezing her hands into the woman's firm, well-rounded buttocks. She pressed her face against Zelda's abdomen and let the tears flow, her shoulders shaking with the sobs that suddenly became more real than she had intended.
Zelda held the girl close, soothing her with quiet words and running her hands down the girl's shoulders to test and tease the youthful flesh. She wanted to plunge her hand down the girl's blouse, seek out the firm globes of her young breasts and squeeze them into soft mounds of quivering desire. But she withheld her hand and let the girl make the first tentative moves, let the girl's fingers squeeze the flesh of her ass and waited as Ann grew bolder.
The girl's sobbing stopped except for a few intermittent shakes, but Zelda could feel the hot breath of the youngster against her flesh through the thin robe. Ann was, becoming warmer and warmer to her touch and the closeness of Zelda's cunt must have given the girl new encouragement. Suddenly Ann moved her hand down Zelda's thigh, sliding it slowly down the thin fabric until it reached the hem and then her hand shot up and rested on Zelda's pubic mound.
"Oh, Miss Gruder," she cried softly. "Please let me love you. Let me lick you. I want to lick you." The words came from a strained throat, a desperate croak that Zelda almost didn't understand and probably would not have understood had the girl's hand not been where it was. The time was ripe and Zelda used it. Her hand moved around from the girl's shoulder and slid down between the fabric of the girl's blouse and cupped the unbrassiered breast, felt the full maturity of its size and felt the passion-erect nipple burn into the palm.
Zelda felt herself go liquidy as the probing young fingers curled through her pubic hair and spread the lips of her cunt and softly, teasingly entered the hot core. She held the girl's head close to her body and massaged her breast for a few minutes before moving away.
"Slip out of your clothing, Ann," Zelda said quietly. "We'll have more room on the bed. Quickly." The girl got up from the chair and Zelda reached over and turned off the lantern, leaving the room pitch black for a moment before their eyes became used to the dark and they could see from the light of the moon outside.
Zelda had wished that she could have seen the girl undress, but it was still too dark. She saw the dim figure however and admired the warm shadow as it stripped out of shorts and blouse, hips flaring suggestively and breasts full and high riding to the points of the erect nipples. The girl moved toward her and Zelda dropped her robe around her feet and then stretched out on the bed.
Ann, Zelda could tell, was no stranger to loving another female. The girl's hands were suddenly all over the older woman's body, kneading the full breasts and then suddenly spreading down the smooth flesh of her torso and resting between her legs. Zelda opened her thighs and the girl helped, lowering her hands until they were underneath Zelda's buttocks. Young fingers pried apart the moist lips of her cunt. Zelda held her breath and then sighed with passion as she felt the warm mouth close over the pink inner labia and then the hot stab of the young, but experienced, tongue as it whipped frantically against her clitoris. Zelda spread her legs wide and brought them back to her bosom, held them in that position until Ann's mouth was firmly attached to her cunt and then closed her thighs softly around the eager girl's head.
All the pent-up frustrations of the day seethed between her legs as Zelda felt the insistent tongue and lips of the fifteen-year-old working her cunt to peak upon peak. She clutched the cover of the bed, tried to hold her breath but the moans of delight and fulfillment escaped into the dark empty silence of the tropical night. Zelda squeezed her thighs around the girl's head, opened them and squeezed again as each new spasm of pleasure ripped through her body. Her hips strained forward, buttocks tightening and relaxing with each lash of the girl's tongue. She was coming and coming with more wild pleasure than she had felt in a long time. Not Antonio. Not Ronnie. Not Martin. Not Ellen had given her this much sheer joy in her cunt and when the final surge of emotion burst through her ravished nerves she almost cried with the ecstatic relief it gave her. Her legs dropped to either side of the girl, but the girl's mouth continued sucking at the screaming nerves of her crotch, licking the raw, pleasure-filled clit until Zelda's hands had to push the hungry face away from her cunt.
She wanted to lie there and bathe in the afterglow of the excitement, but she forced herself instead to pull the girl up next to her and scoot down to the foot of the bed. Ann must have had some slight orgasm herself, Zelda thought, as she spread the youthful pubes and buried her face into the wet crotch. The girl leaped her hips in the air as Zelda's mouth closed over the clit, her tongue whipping the young cunt unmercifully, her hands holding the cunt lips wide. Zelda buried her tongue into the girl's tight little hole, sucked out the hot juice and plunged the tongue back and forth, in and out of the seething core.
Zelda lost her head then, wanting to make the girl come and come, to make her scream with the agony of the lashing tongue. She probed deeper into the youthful vagina, licked her tongue up and around the sides of the girl's inner lips and then plunged her hot, wet tongue into the small ring of her anus.
Ann cried out with the new assault, frightened and filled with more pleasure than she had ever experienced. She rolled her hips, trying to remove her ass from the wet probe that so intimately teased her, but Zelda held her in position, sucking and probing the tight ring until the girl's hands flew down and grasped her by the hair, pulling her away from the strangely sensitive hole. Zelda eased back slightly and then pushed her mouth back into Ann's cunt, licking the slippery folds of the girl's pleasure center until she could feel the warm thighs close about her ears, shutting off the stillness of the warm night.
Zelda unwrapped herself from Ann's thighs and slid up the girl's sweaty body, feeling triumphant at the way Ann was breathing so heavily, so deeply with the exhaustion of a tongue lashing. When her head was beside the girl's, Zelda pulled the youthful mouth to her own and deep kissed it, sinking her tongue into the sweet warm of that adolescent hollow as deeply as she sunk her tongue into the girl's cunt. It was a very satisfying kiss.
She closed her eyes and let herself go with the kiss, crushing her knee into the damp crotch of Ann's legs. It was a moment of bliss as she worked her mouth over the young girl's, sometimes plunging her tongue in and sometimes sucking out the girl's tongue to hold passionately between her teeth. She wanted to remain like that for the rest of the night, but she suddenly heard a noise. Her eyes opened in time to see the glow of the lantern at the door and she wasn't able to react quickly enough to prevent the door from opening and the light spilling into the room.
Antonio grinned at both of them, his teeth shining devilishly in the reflected glow of the lantern. He stood looking at them for a minute and then turned to the table, picking up the brandy bottle and sipping its contents.
Zelda and Ann froze on the bed, the obviousness of their condition spilling over into small spasms of shame. Ann hid her face behind Zelda's back while the older woman reached for her robe, feeling not the least bit disappointed that the man had arrived when he had. He could have come sooner, Zelda thought, but he didn't. She felt that Ellen must have given him a good time, otherwise he would have been there earlier.
She knew what he was after as soon as he had surprised them. He had come for her, but finding Ann there must be a new thrill, and it might prove to be a thrill for her, too, she added.
"You're supposed to knock," she said, slipping into the robe and still shielding Ann behind her back. "It's the accepted thing."
Antonio laughed and walked over to the bed. He had nothing to say, but his hand was busy with his belt. As Zelda protested, he let his shorts drop to the floor.
"We have another one, huh? Very nice of you, Mees Gruder," he said, smiling at the women and still holding the bottle of brandy. "Don't be frightened, little one. I'm just going to make everything between your legs feel very, very good."
"Miss Gruder," Ann cried, "don't let him do anything to me. Please."
Zelda protested mildly, getting up and leaving Ann exposed and helplessly curled up at the head of the bed. "There's nothing I can do," she said quietly. "Just take it easy with her, 'Tonio," she said turning to the first mate.
"Of course, Zelda darling," he said, putting the bottle down and stepping closer to Ann. "Now, little one, I want you to roll over onto your stomach and tuck your knees up under your chest."
Ann cringed in the corner of the bed, pulling the cover up to hide her heavy breasts and part of the triangle between her legs. "No. Go away. Leave me alone. I've never been with a man. I can't. I can't." She started to cry then.
"Roll over, bitch," Antonio said as he grabbed her by the hair. "Roll over and shut up or I'll slit your throat." He pulled her hair tighter into his fist and began pushing the young girl over onto her belly when she suddenly whipped out a hand and scratched him across the chest. It caught him by surprise, but when she made another swipe at him, he backhanded across the face and shoved her over onto her stomach. "Don't ever do that again, little bitch. Now get your goddamn legs up under you and stick your ass high in the air."
Antonio's voice scared her so much that she blindly obeyed, looking once at Zelda and crying more as she realized that the nurse was not going to help her. He still held her by the hair and when she was slow in pulling her legs up, he yanked painfully at it.
She renewed her sobbing into the pillow as she felt the man's weight climb onto the bed behind her. Antonio's big hands were then over the ripe contours of her haunches, pulling them higher and then spreading her thighs. His fingers went between her legs, sought the hot, wet core of her pussy and pried the lips apart. Ann cried out another plea, but it was weakened by her knowledge of its futility and by the sudden growing excitement as she realized that she was about to be raped. She felt a strange blend of fear and thrill roll through her body and she would have peed there had her muscles not been so taut with panic. Antonio's fingers probed into her cunt expertly and then it came.
Ann yelled loud as Antonio's huge cock rammed through the wet folds of her labia and plunged into her cunt with a single, painful shove. She had long ago lost her hymen in some sporting event, but the pain was as genuine as if he had burst through it. The thickness of his cock, hard and fiery, stretched her vaginal walls until Ann thought she was going to faint. Still in the agony of the first thrust, she felt his scratchy pubic hair against her soft, round ass. Then he withdrew and rammed himself in again. There was no stopping him then. He had opened up her pleasure hole and held the soft, plump flesh of her hips tightly in his hands, molding her haunches back to meet his pounding cock.
Her cries changed slowly from the tearful pleas to deep grunts of pain and changed again as the initial agony of penetration passed and the thick cock began to give her excitements that she had never felt before. He was brutal after only the first thrusts and then he, too, felt that she was beginning to enjoy what he was doing to her. He slowed his movements to savor the ecstatic glow in his loins. Ann responded gradually, rolling her hips around to suck into her belly more and more of the massive staff of meat.
The pain thoughts disappeared as the sensitive nerves between her legs began to hum with the pleasure his cock was thrusting in and out of her. She moaned again but with appreciation and then louder as she felt herself rising to the threshold of orgasm. Her eyes blurred in frenzy as she shuddered through her first orgasm, but Antonio continued his steady fucking, shoving his lengthy cock up and into her burning core, impaling her with more delightful sensations than she thought possible. She tried to break from his grip when she had come, but he held her like a fly on a pin and when her emotions rose again, much more quickly this time, she was glad to be held like a prisoner.
Across the room, Zelda's eyes blazed with increasing desire as she watched the girl getting it from behind, followed Antonio's violence at first and then his more deliberate thrusts as he brought the girl to one orgasm after another. And she thought, too, that her body responded most deliciously when he had been brutal with the girl. When he had first penetrated her virginal hole, Zelda wanted to applaud. It was a reflection of some sadistic streak in her that overrode sexual pleasure, but when the girl had ceased crying and was obviously enjoying the screwing she was getting, Zelda, too, felt her passion grow, sear at her insides, then burst with a small crush of pleasure between her busy fingers.
She watched as Antonio once more picked up the tempo, watched hungrily as she realized that he was reaching his own climax. He drew back and almost out of the girl's wet orifice and then lunged heavily against her plump bottom, crushing his weight down on her and grabbing her tits and kneading them as the spasm slowly ebbed. Zelda felt almost as much release as he seemed to.
Ann milked the thick cock until it grew limp and fell out of the slippery wet hole. She felt a cool rush of air when it did and felt, too, that she had been stretched so wide that she would never be the same again. Antonio seemed to rest his weight on her for a long time, but she didn't care. The weight felt so good. Everything felt good and she was at the height of all the good feeling, still soaring at the end of Antonio's cock.
"Hey, you liked that, didn't you, little one?" Antonio whispered to Ann. "You really like my cock buried in your cunt, huh? Well, you're going to get more."
"Yes, yes," Ann whispered, not caring that Zelda was just across the room. "I want more. Please. Fuck me again, Antonio, please."
He rolled off her and stood up, his cock hanging limply between her hairy legs. "A little later," he said, smacking her ass with his big hand. She moaned and then got up, too.
"Poor Miss Gruder," Ann said, walking over to the woman. "I bet you need some of that, don't you?" Then she sank to her knees and opened Zelda's robe, spreading the woman's thighs and burying her face in her cunt.
CHAPTER SIX
Bob Haas was waiting for her when she returned from her late breakfast. To Zelda he looked like the cat who just swallowed the canary. She was irritated at once when she entered her hut and saw him sitting there, waiting and eager to tell her something.
She had hardly gotten through the door when the boy began explaining that he had something to say. Gossip, very personal gossip it turned out.
It seems that he had gone out late last night to take a dip because he couldn't sleep and when he arrived at the beach he saw Phillip Tyson and Alex Pierce on the grass nearby. Bob said that he was about to hail them when he noticed in the bright moon that Alex was grunting. Curious, Bob said, he went in and around the boys and discovered Phillip sucking Alex and then heard them argue. Alex refused to suck Phillip, Bob said and when he had finished he said, "Damn faggot. But I knew you'd want to know about it, Miss Gruder. I haven't forgotten yesterday."
"Nor have I," Zelda said coolly. "But I appreciate your telling me. Don't worry," she said when she noticed that he seemed ready for another treatment, "I'll take care of you later. Run along now."
The news was not exactly a big surprise to Zelda. She had observed the Tyson boy on several occasions and surmised that he was just a bit underdeveloped for his age, very quiet and slightly effeminate. Despite her own sexual predilections, she was still a little shocked by the news. Somehow her own sexual ventures with girls didn't seem as repulsive as it did when men did the same things. She could understand it to a degree, but while she smiled about it she also remembered that she had a duty to perform. She could not allow homosexuality to take her own place. Funny, she thought, I didn't mean to say take my place, but that's the way it came out.
There was a way to cure it while he was still impressionable, she thought. She would take him through the wonderland of heterosexuality and show him, teach him how much more wonderful it was than the other way. She would be gentle and understanding, ease through the preliminaries and show the boy how to take the aggressive actions a woman desired.
As she worked around the hut, picking up clothing and cups, she became more intrigued with the idea of making the youngster really informed about sex. She would be his teacher, his first woman, his motherly, passionate guide out of the limbo of homos. By the time she had finished working, she was singing in expectation of the evening. It would become one of her more satisfying triumphs, she thought.
The afternoon seemed to drag and while she didn't object too much, busying herself with a long stroll down the beach and a swim in the fresh-water pool, she was impatient for the night, impatient to get her hands on the boy with queer tendencies. Several times that day she ran into Bob, each time looking more and more like he wanted to rape her on the spot. She spoke to him and explained that he would have to wait until tomorrow, and each time she told him she felt a superior thrill in being able to put him off. But the day dragged.
Zelda was careful not tire herself and when she had finished supper she felt active for the first time in many days. Not even the warmth of the evening calmed her down very much.
She found Phillip off by himself, finishing his dinner. He looked just the way she had always pictured him, a kind of aesthetic boy, but not really as effeminate as she thought earlier. He seemed surprised when she came up to him and told him to meet her in her hut after he had finished eating. For a flashing moment, Zelda saw a look of panic cross his face, but he smiled up at her and nodded his head.
"So that's why you can't see me," Bob said quietly to her as she neared her hut. She hadn't heard him and she almost jumped in fright. "You're going to fuck that little faggot, aren't, you? Why? Why? You know I was waiting for you all day. You know how much I need it."
Recovering her composure, Zelda turned her icy look at the big, blond boy. "Don't come up behind people like that. You scared me half to death." Then she turned and walked into her room. Bob followed.
"But how could you, knowing what he is?"
"That's my business," she said. "Now just run along like a good boy or you won't be getting anything ever."
"No. Dammit no," he shouted. "I won't go unless I get something and right now."
Zelda looked at him as he leaned against the door, the desperation written all over his face, but she only found contempt for him. "Get out, Bob. Get out now or I'll see to it that Antonio beats the hell out of you."
He moved toward her and tried to grab her arms, but she stepped back and slammed her fist into his unsuspecting belly. He doubled over in pain, the shock of the blow taking all his passion for the moment.
"You'll live, Bob, but get out now. I mean what I say. If you ever want sex from me, you'll get out now and make damned sure you don't return until I ask you to."
Bob groaned and stood upright again, turning away from Zelda and leaving her alone in the hut. But he was seething inside, from the blow in the gut and from the blow to his ego, thinking that she was going to fuck that little queer. Well, he smiled once more as the thought worked its way into his mind, I'll fix that son of a bitch good.
Zelda watched him walk off into the jungle and thought that she probably had made an enemy of him, but only a temporary one, she added. There were ways, all sexual ones, of getting him back. She sat down at the table and filled a glass with brandy and waited for Phil-lip.
The boy was not long in coming. He knocked timidly at her door and came in quietly when she told him and sat down. She offered him a drink, but he refused. Then Zelda came right out with a talk about the difficulties of having grown up in an all-boys' school, about the troubling sexual problems that might lead a boy to think of sex in different ways and about the dangers of homosexuality in later life.
"I've heard about you and Alex," she said, watching as the boy turned scarlet with shame. He started to get up, but Zelda put her hand over his and held him. "Don't let it bother you, Phillip. I know you know that what you did was wrong, but there was a reason for your actions. But it can all be changed, Phillip. I can help you if you'll let me."
Her words offered little assurance to the boy. He remained scarlet with the shame of knowing that she knew what he had done to Alex and all he wanted to do was run from her, run so fast that he would die and the terrible desires would never haunt him again. Dead, he dreamed, he would no longer be the pariah to his father. He would do it swimming and in his fantasy he imagined that he would die in the water in the attempt at saving someone else, a heroic gesture that would, for the first time, make his father proud of him, proud of his memory.
The blood boiled through his head and he was hardly aware of what Miss Gruder was saying. She was offering to help. Ridiculous. What could she do? She was a woman and just like his mother, weak and simpering and she was even drinking. What could she do? His head buzzed and he tried to look at the woman; his mother? He got up from the chair, but her hand was heavy on his and he wanted to run, but his hand anchored beneath hers, held fast to something that he couldn't understand.
"I'll help you," Zelda said.
Phillip's expression turned to panic, but he couldn't move himself from her. He didn't want to. And through the pounding of his heart and the lightness of his head, he felt the surge of hope that perhaps this woman could lift him from the desires he had. He relaxed for an instant and sat down, finally taking the small glass of brandy that Zelda offered.
Something in her heart went out to the boy, a feeling of wanting to protect him from the realities and yet she still wanted to make him a man, make him a man in her own image. She tried to smile at his helplessness, knowing that he was too weak even to pursue his own homosexuality. But the feelings of contempt that she would have ordinarily held for his kind didn't come then.
It was crazy, she thought, and turned her attention to the fading sunset and rapidly encroaching darkness of the tropical evening. A sudden cool breeze blew through her hut, prelude to a storm.
Phillip's eyes were on his glass. The brandy burned its way down his throat, but he still couldn't feel the burst of life that it was supposed to give him. He had hardly ever touched strong stuff before and had never been able to hold it down long enough to get the giddy sensation of drunkenness that some of his friends had gotten before they became amiable enough to let him blow them. But this time, he vowed to himself, he would become drunk and when he had finished the brandy and shoved it across the table toward Miss Gruder she refilled it. He drank it quickly, gagging a few times and glad that the woman made no comment about it.
Zelda filled his glass two more times before she had felt the time was right for her to make her move. And then it was very easy. The brandy had done its necessary work, making Phillip numb and dizzy enough not to resist as she helped him over to the bed, stripped his shorts from him and slowly undressed herself in the fading light of the evening.
The wind picked up, shaking the blinds until Zelda moved from the side, of the bed and closed the windows and the door. This was a night that she didn't want to be disturbed, but she felt confident that Antonio would be busy with Ann or Ellen or perhaps both of them. He was that type and they were susceptible enough to go along with whatever he wanted to do with them. But then, she thought, the boys will go along with me.
It became very still in the room when she had closed the windows, even though they could still hear the wind howling higher and higher outside. Zelda slipped down beside Phillip and took his face in her hands, holding his head gently and firmly and then kissed him full on the mouth, softly and motherly at first and as her body warmed next to his, more passionately. Her tongue forced his lips apart and probed into the warmth behind. He seemed to stiffen at her touch, but the brandy haze clouded whatever resistance he would have made sober. He felt the stirrings of an erection as her hand glided down his body and cradled, his genitals warmly. The touch was different, but not so much different than a certain boy he had known in school. Only Miss Gruder's hands seemed more knowledgeable, softer. Or was it the boy? He closed his eyes and opened his mouth wider to accept the tongue and let his gonads run wild with the touch.
Zelda felt his stirring manhood and quickly began to stroke it. His eyes were closed and he might have been thinking of other things, but she knew that she would make him a man. He had a fair-sized cock and when it reached the peak of hardness it had proven enough to make Zelda feel the moisture form between her legs. She wanted to move from his mouth then and take his hard cock between her lips, but she realized that she had to continue to kiss him and keep him hard until she could roll over on top of him and give him the woman-fuck that he had never had.
Slowly she moved her thigh over his legs, inching herself closer and closer to his crotch. All the time, she kept her hand busy massaging his penis, squeezing it first firmly and then loosely, titillating it enough to keep it hard and anxious. Her mouth crushed down harder on his as she wondered what he expected, but then she didn't want to think about it. She wanted to crawl up on top of the boy and impale herself on his rigid boy-man cock, faggot penis that she would change.
Phillip had no hair on his youthful chest and when Zelda finally broke away from his mouth, leaving him panting and moaning with the pleasure of her stroking hand, she felt like she was kissing the warm flesh of a very young girl. It was not an unsatisfactory sensation as she tongued the little nipples on his chest. His cries of sexual delight filled her ears over the moaning of the wind as the storm outside began to keep the pace with the storm on the bed. The time was there and she rolled her hips over his and settled down over his cock, grinding her pillowy rump over his crotch until she was certain that the full length of the boy's cock was buried in her wet love purse.
The shock of her hot cleft seared through Phillip's body. He thrust his hips upward to meet her rolling ass and while he held his eyes closed he imagined the times that he had sucked that cock into the tight, hot hole of his boy- -friend's ass. But this was different. So different, and so much alive that he felt the surge of his orgasm rise from his groin and rip through his body and then spurt lovingly and dizzyingly into the hot crevice of Miss Gruder's cunt.
Zelda felt his stream of love slam into her and crushed herself down on him. Her lips covered his moaning mouth and while she didn't feel much of an orgasm herself, she was triumphant at having given the boy one, given him his first woman-fuck orgasm. She pressed her sensuous body down on his, holding him and holding his cock between her legs. She felt his body tense and respond with the final spasms of his orgasm, but she continued to tense her vaginal muscles, milking the last drop from the boy's cock, making him feel the potency of her love-making.
Despite her efforts and regardless of the sexual tactics that she employed on him, Phillip gradually resisted her, found that the brandy haze worn thin soon and the chilling reality of what he was doing was upon him. Zelda was a woman, his mother-figure, lover, disgusting drunk and whore. As he struggled beneath her sensuous weight, he could hear his father shout at the object of some early affection, the stabbing screams of bitterness and hate and they were all directed at that woman, all women, even at Miss Gruder who had tried so hard. But the shouts wouldn't stop in his mind, even when he told himself as calmly as he knew how that this was a different woman another time and place, but his nerves ripped his soul and told him his thoughts were false, his mother was there on top of him, her juicy cunt splayed for the disgusting hard thing between his legs and all the while his father shouted and laughed over the both of them.
It had never really happened to Phillip, but, at that moment in time, he relived a fantasy and when he could find the strength, he shoved Zelda from his body and ran, grabbing his shorts on the way out.
He ran naked to the beach, falling facedown in the soft and still warm sand near the lapping surf. Strange, he thought, how calm the surf was when the wind and the rain were making such fuss. And how warm, too, despite the cool drops that splashed over his fevered body. He knew that he could never go back. He could never face her again, and he could never look at anyone ever. But the rain drops were cooler than the sand or the lapping surf and he felt reawakened, reborn because he knew that this was the last night he would live. Death seemed to be reaching out for him and as he accepted the idea he knew that he would meet that specter with dignity. He put on his wet shorts, ignoring the grating effect of the sand against his smooth-fleshed body.
Phillip turned his face directly into the lashing rain and wind, no longer caring that he was being hurt or that there was danger that he would catch a chill. Those were things that no longer mattered. He walked with a new resolution through the storm and back into the jungle for no other reason than to taste the pregnant smell of its overripe living. He filled his lungs with the damp earthy odors and nearly felt faint from the ecstasy of it, the living and dying of it.
He was still huddled under a tree after the storm had passed. Antonio and Bob found him. But then they had been looking for him. Antonio had been told the story of Phillip's blowjob on Alex and about Zelda. Bob told it all to the burly sailor. He told more, too, told the first mate that when they were rescued, he, Bob, would be able to make the sailor a captain. Bob knew his father and he knew his own control over the old man. It was an easy thing to promise. Money, of course, had considerably more appeal to Antonio than anything else, even the soft young cunts of virgins.
Antonio had listened to Bob for a long time, at first putting the kid down, then laughing about the way Zelda had put him off, but eventually growing more interested as Bob Haas explained how he wanted to get even with the little faggot. And the money. Antonio could not quite get the idea of the money out of his mind. And when it came to doing some pleasurable harm to Phillip, Antonio knew just how to do it.
They had watched the hut for a long time, but when the lantern had come on some hours after the storm had arrived, they realized that Phillip had left.
Phillip looked up, startled but not frightened, when the two arrived. He was about to say something when Bob shushed him and then told him to come along. Antonio stood aside and nodded to the young boy. Phillip got up and followed the two through the jungle to Antonio's hut. No one said anything as they came close to it, but Phillip felt a sudden stab of fear.
"Where are you taking me?" But he was shoved into the hut by Bob after the first mate had opened the door.
Antonio had lit the lantern and when Bob closed the door and locked it, Phillip ran back and tried to leave. He was shoved toward the bed with a rough laugh by both the big boy and the first mate. Phillip turned from one to the other, saw that they had both been drinking and became genuinely frightened.
"We're just going to have ourselves a little fun," Antonio said, opening the bottle and drinking directly. He passed it over to Bob and then said, "Get your shorts off, kid. We're going to have some queer fun."
"No," Phillip cried out, but Bob was suddenly next to him, his fist jabbing painfully into Phillip's belly.
"Oh, yes, you little faggot. Now get out of those shorts or I'll tear you out of them." Antonio and Bob watched with sadistic pleasure as the kid slowly unhitched his shorts and let them fall. The first mate laughed and made a raunchy comment about the size of Phillip's cock. Then he dropped his own shorts and walked over to the boy. Sitting on the edge of the bed, his lap seemed to Phillip to be filled with enormous cock and balls. The boy was almost hypnotized by the sight when Antonio's arm shot out and pulled him close. "Now get down, you cocksucking little bastard. And you better make it good."
Phillip turned pale and began to shake. He was too scared to cry out again, but he resisted going down on the first mate as long as he could. But Antonio's grip tightened on his arm and he felt powerless as he was pulled down, down to the lap full of genitals. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but they were ignored by the big man who put his other hand on the boy's head and pulled him closer to the long, thick cock, swollen with need. "Suck it, goddamn you, or I'll make you wish you had."
It was so big Phillip thought that he would never be able to take it in his mouth, but he obediently opened his jaws and let his mouth be pushed down by the first mate until the thick head of the cock passed his lips and pressed against his tongue. He fought then, but the man was too strong. A sudden sharp pain in his neck made him realize that he was helpless. He rolled his tongue over the thick knob of Antonio's cock, sucked hard at the hot bulge in his mouth and began to bob his head up and down. The pressure on his neck was relaxed and Phillip fell into the steady rhythm, no longer caring that what he was doing was something that he had tried to fight away. This was rape, he thought, and there was a panicky thrill that shot through his loins as he found that he enjoyed the idea of being forced to do what he had done so often voluntarily. He sucked the big penis faster, suddenly finding space for the enlarged organ farther and farther down his throat. He forced his head downward until the great knob of Antonio's hard-on banged against his tonsils and still Phillip thought with wonderment that he had not even taken half of the cock. He felt himself caught up in the dizzying excitement of blowing the big man, his head rang with the blood racing through his body, and he felt his own cock painfully hard.
Without thinking, he reached down and started to play with himself, but Antonio's hand swept the boy's arm away. Over the hammering in his head, he heard the big man say that he couldn't do that. It was painful and he wanted to beat his meat so badly that he almost cried, but then he felt still more excitement by being forced from even the small pleasure of masturbation. He renewed with greater frenzy his blowing task. His tongue lashed around the head of Antonio's cock and his lips slurped over it on the upstroke. Phillip wanted to go down more, take the fat bag of balls into his mouth, but he didn't dare remove the throbbing penis.
His tongue turned became a trip hammer as it lashed rapidly over Antonio's glans, and the quick erotic treatment brought the first mate up to his peak and then brought out a thick stream of come that shot into the back of the boy's throat. Antonio was very pleased, but he held the boy's head until the last drop of semen had been sucked from his cock.
All the time Bob had been watching with fascination as the boy sucked off Antonio. He remembered the delicious thrill of Zelda's mouth and wondered whether Phillip was as good as she. He waited impatiently for Antonio to come and when the first mate finally stood up and walked back to the table, Bob was out of his shorts and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Phillip was fatigued but he didn't resist when he found himself faced with Bob's cock. It, too, was very large, not as big as Antonio's, but big enough. He took the hard shaft into his mouth and worked it quickly, his head and tongue and lips moving slickly over the hot cock, up and down, up and down until Phillip thought that his neck would break.
Antonio felt some surprise that he would become aroused so quickly after having a blowjob, but as he watched the boy suck Bob he felt a new stirring in his loins. He took another swallow of brandy, got up from the table and went to the cupboard where he took down a container of coconut oil. It would do very nicely, he thought.
The pain in Phillip's neck shot down through his shoulder muscles, but he kept sucking Bob's cock, enjoying the pain as much as he had enjoyed the thought of being forced into what he was doing. But he was relieved when Bob came at last and he fell across the bed, still kneeling but not uncomfortable. The muscles relaxed and the pain began to subside.
"He sucked like a woman," Antonio said laughingly. "Now let's see if he can fuck like a woman."
Phillip turned and looked at the first mate with new pain in his eyes. He knew what the man was saying and when the first mate came over to him with the container of oil, he turned away and started pleading. "I can't do that, Antonio. I'm too small. Please, for God's sake don't. I couldn't take you. You're too big," He fell over to the man's legs, his hand grabbing the thick stem of manhood. He opened his mouth and took the familiar fat penis in, warmed it, sucked it, but Antonio pushed him away.
"Get on the bed and spread your cheeks, little one. I'll know you're going to enjoy this."
"Please. Please don't." But even as he was crying and begging, Antonio was forcing his legs onto the bed, pressing down on the boy's neck and forcing his ass high in the air. Phillip cried out again, but a sudden pressure on his neck made him gag off the sound in the fabric of the bedclothes. Antonio stood aside for a moment and then dipped his hand into the oil. Phillip felt only the light touch of the first mate's fingers as they smoothed the oil over his anus and then the added weight as the man climbed onto the bed behind him. Antonio's finger probed lightly into the boy's rectum and Phillip almost felt a sensation of pleasure. But it was quickly replaced by the massive knob of Antonio's cock, hard and hot at the small sphincter and then the sudden shock of pain as Antonio's cock, well lubricated by the oil, slid inside.
Phillip felt totally debased, but he couldn't move. Antonio's hand was again pressing down on the back of his neck. But his ass felt like it was on fire, stretched to the rending point and only the thick knob of Antonio's cock had entered. The rest of Antonio's cock sent a new, screaming spasm of pain through his rectum as the first mate gave a heavy lunge and sunk himself right up to the hilt in the boy's ass. Phillip cried out in pain and screamed aloud only to be forced face down onto the cover of the bed.
The big cock slipped back and lunged forward. The second time the cock buried itself up his ass, Phillip felt little pain, only the growing awareness of the thickness where no thickness ought to be. Gradually, he began to feel some pleasure as the heavy cock rammed back and forth into his body and this time there was no denying the painful erection. Phillip's hand slipped down between his legs, grabbed his small cock and beat it in tune with the first mate's strokes. Phillip's orgasm was more powerful than he had ever experienced, coming just as Antonio's cock ground mercilessly against the boy's prostate gland. A few minutes later and Antonio shot his load hotly into the boy's rectum and pulled himself out with a satisfying pop.
Bob had become re-aroused by the sight of Antonio buggering Phillip and when the first mate rose from the bed, Bob went over and forced his cock into the boy's mouth another time. And then it was Antonio's turn to get hard again. He found the second entry into Phillip's ass much easier than the first.
Phillip's mind went blank that night. He vaguely remembered being used over and over again. His ass felt like there was a gaping hole in it. His mouth was dry, sour tasting, sour from Bob and Antonio and sour from the way he had finally thrown up after the two had tossed him out. He had fallen several times in the sand on his way down to the beach. He tried to run, but his legs only mushed through the soft sand and there was considerable pain in his ass when he tried too hard.
The surf was light at that hour of the morning, not yet daylight, but Phillip could see the coming brightness on the horizon. He stepped into the water, walked a few steps then swam as the water was suddenly over his head. He swam straight out, swimming slowly and taking each stroke as though he had been practicing from a text. The fluid over his body eased some of the pain and gradually his mind became clear. The water, he thought. The water was so protective, so loving. He found that he was falling in love with the water as it soothed him.
It was so different from the harsh reality of Bob and Antonio, so comforting after the shame of his rape and the deeper shame he felt for having enjoyed what he had been forced to do. Yes, he told himself, even enjoying Antonio's huge cock imbedded up his ass. He wanted to return and have them start all over, but he knew he couldn't face them, knew that he would never get from them the tenderness of the warm tropical lagoon.
Phillip swam straight in the warm dark water until his arms were numb with fatigue and his legs felt like lead. Then he stopped swimming and let himself be taken by the water, down, down and he never made a struggle.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was more than a week after they had buried Phillip that Zelda began to feel halfway normal. After the discovery of his body in the surf the following morning, she felt that she had been the blame for his suicide, for it must have been suicide. There could be no other explanation for his drowning. For the first several days she cursed herself for having come on so strong with the boy, for having literally forced him into becoming involved with her. She said that it was rape, but she said it only to herself.
All the others thought that it was an accident and while they moped around for a couple of days, the reality of death in their midst faded like the pictures drawn in the sand, swept away in the wind and surf, half remembered and almost happily forgotten. Phillip had never been one of the more memorable members at best and the group grew closer together after his burial. But Zelda brooded on her part in his death for a few more days than that, and somehow she felt that she would never be able to forget the events of the night before, those events of which she had been part of. Forget she must, she told herself, and by the end of a week she had put the kid's death into more proper perspective, an accident, deliberate on his part and only a partial blame for herself. That was where it should stay, but the memory of the boy came back to haunt her at night, in nightmares of what she knew she was becoming.
She found some solace in keeping to herself during the day, playing the role of severe mother-image and taking Ann or Ellen or Ronnie to bed with her at night. It was different suddenly with all of them. She no longer played the role of seducer but made demands on them, not the least subtly hidden by threats. When she had tired of one of the kids, she had Antonio who satisfied her as a woman, dominated her, could have controlled her had she allowed it, but she refused that pleasure to herself.
There was a tension around the island that she could not put her finger on. It started when she noticed that Martin Kelly avoided her deliberately. She wasn't sure at first, but when she tried to walk directly toward him he always seemed to not hear her call and was suddenly running toward the surf or off into the jungle. Bob, too, she noticed, avoided her, but not quite so intentionally. The big, dumb blond boy just seemed to want to stay away from her and, when she came upon him on the beach or in the meal line, he hardly said more than a few words to her. There was no more mention of his wanting to come to her hut and do the thing they had done once.
Zelda began to feel that she was losing control over the whole camp. The feeling didn't come to her all at once, but crept up and wound itself into her being. She hardly noticed it during the time she was mourning the death of Phillip, but she became aware of it as she came out of the lassitude that followed the tragedy. She simply awoke one morning and realized that life was going on around her and it was doing very well without her.
On the several occasions that she had tried to talk to Martin and failed, she had shrugged her shoulders and felt that further effort was not worth the trouble, but when she finally realized that she might be losing control, she told herself that she would force the boy into communication with her.
Steeling herself against a possible rebuff, Zelda collared Martin after lunch. He had been late and when he walked over to sit beneath a tree to eat she had followed him and sat beside him. He nodded a greeting, but he said nothing to really acknowledge that she was there. His behavior made Zelda want to laugh, but she treated it as a serious thing. She knew that she needed him.
There was hardly any conversation and when the boy was pressed for details about his avoidance of her, she was told that he felt that what he had done with her was wrong and he didn't want to continue. But Zelda insisted and when he had finished his meal, she exacted a promise that he would come to her hut.
Even as she walked back to her place, Zelda felt that the boy was reluctant to come, but she suddenly felt strong enough and reassured herself that he would come. And when he did come, she would make his visit most memorable.
It was true that he didn't want to go to Miss Gruder. He had heard Bob talk about how she had sucked him off and about how she had been with Phillip the night before he drowned. There might not have been any connection, he felt, but he couldn't deny that the kid was kind of queer and it was possible that Zelda had pushed him too far. Still, he felt that he had to go. In some strange way Zelda Gruder represented all that was authority and stability on the island, the only real hope that they had for being rescued and staying alive before they were rescued.
Martin knew that she wanted to fuck him even before he went into her hut. He knew it even as she had been talking to him at lunch. He knew that her serious-severe words were just covers for her real meaning. It was not that he didn't want to fuck her. His blood pounded as virilely as anyone else's, but he knew that when he had been with Miss Gruder before there was something evil about doing it with her. Still he went to her hut and he went with a sense of anticipation of what she was going to do. He had no doubt that she was going to seduce him.
Zelda had slipped into her thin robe as soon as she had returned to her hut. It wouldn't be a long wait, she told herself. The boy was curious and probably just a bit horny, too. She knew that he was afraid of her in some strange way, afraid because he knew what she was doing to him and to the rest. But she knew that she had the power of sex over him and with that control she could control him and the others.
She felt a smugness when she heard his knock, felt the reassurance of her power at the willfulness of her actions. Without pretense or shame. That was the way it would be. Quickly she went to the bed and sat on the edge before telling the caller to enter.
"Close the door, Martin," she said. "You know why I wanted you to come. I'm glad you came. Come here and sit beside me."
It seemed to be happening in a dream for Martin. He wanted to run away from her, but his eyes sent the message of her lush body down to his genitals and the arousal that he didn't want to happen happened. He was the sleepwalker closing the door and the dreamer as he walked over to the bed and sat beside her. His arms seemed to belong to someone else as they encircled her and his lips were other lips as they touched lightly against hers and then fiercely as the well of his passion erupted. He slipped down to his knees and opened her robe, spread her legs wide and then buried his face in the tart sweet purse of her cunt.
Zelda smiled and raised her feet up to the edge of the bed, exposing her cunt wide and open and making it the delicious target of the boy's tongue and lips. It was an awkward position, but it was more than repaid as his mouth discovered all the secret points of pleasure, as he licked the hot juice from her passion-swollen pubes and fastened his mouth over her clitoris, sucking the nipple of fire into his feverish orifice. Somehow, she managed to drop the sleeves of her robe and let her bare body, lush breasts upraised in delirious thrill, catch the almost imperceptible movements of the tropical air. She spread her legs wide with her feet on the bed, but Martin's hands opened her wider yet to allow himself to feast at her furnace of love.
When she could stand the punishing tongue no longer, she clamped her thighs about the boy's head, held him for the eternity of her orgasm and then helped him swing his body over hers and onto the bed. He still had his shorts on, but Zelda quickly slipped them down his hard-muscled torso and legs. She wanted to sink her face down to his swollen cock, take it sweetly and lovingly into her mouth and suck him dry, but she still felt the need for that stem of flesh to be buried in her cunt. She rolled over onto her back and opened her pillars wide. He needed no further encouragement, but he hesitated for a moment, feeling just the slightest sense of remorse over what he was doing. But he moved between her legs, spread them wider than she had, and plunged his hot cock into the wet folds of her body, her temple of love and the sheath of comfort for his sword of passion.
Zelda was not content to be merely fucked by the boy. She arched her hips up and wrapped her legs over the boy's shoulders and ground her pelvis against him. Her hands clasped his buttocks, fingers working nervously toward his anus and then opening the tight ring. She inserted a finger in his ass up to the first joint and all the while the other fingers played a tune around the sensitive rim.
Gradually, he worked her legs downward so that her plump warm thighs held his waist and the calves of her legs beat a tattoo against his ass. His mouth covered hers for a long time and then sucked up the dew of perspiration at her neck and traced a path of fire down her chest. He sucked a firm nipple of her big tits into his mouth, teeth grazing across it sharply.
She slammed her body against his, felt her passion soar up to the heights and come screaming down in liquidy howls as the orgasm throbbed through her vibrating cunt. She sunk her teeth into his shoulder and tossed her ass madly up and down, crushing him, squeezing him, holding his cock deep in the inferno of her greasy lower lips. Just as she thought that she could take no more, Martin gave a violent thrust and collapsed on top of her, spurting his hot juice into the palpitating rose of her body.
They lay side by side for a long time, listening to the silence of the hot afternoon and not caring that the sun blazed fiercely outside. The hut was hot. Their bodies were soaked with love's effort, but Zelda didn't care. While the warm air shifted gently about the room, she knew that they would cool off for a bit and she knew that he would be ready soon. She would see to that.
Her hand stole down between his legs and cradled the limp tool of his boy-manhood, large even in its flaccid condition. She ran her finger under his scrotum, scratching the skin with her nail and trying to induce some further passion into his cock. He moaned and tried half-heartedly to push her hand away, but she only moved it a few inches, back up to the base of his stem, other fingers circling the bag of balls. It remained limp, worthless to her, and her manipulations didn't seem to be getting the reaction that she desired.
She scooted down the length of his body, laying a trail of dampness over his already damp flesh with her mouth. She scraped her teeth over his nipples and licked the salty pool of wetness from his navel. She moved farther down the bed and took his limp cock into her mouth, swallowing hard at first and then closing her lips around the soft flesh. Her tongue danced over the head of his penis and she tasted her own juices on his cock and loved the flavor sensation and felt the warm desire flow back between her legs. The taste was depraved and she loved it and loved herself for doing it. And all the while her mouth whistled his skin flute, her tongue tripping wantonly over the screaming nerve endings in his glans until the limp noodle was flushed with new tides of heat and the swelling member filled her mouth. She sucked it furiously, her face collapsing with the suction.
Martin groaned his pleasure at her work, found some flashes of regret over what he was doing, but sent them hurriedly away as her mouth fucked him. He was hard and there was such a sweet painful bliss in his crotch as she sucked him that he thought that he was going to come at any moment, but the orgasm eluded him, kept off like a shadow of some strange dream. But his cock remained hard and burning with the desire. It burned white hot and then whiter hot as her teeth slashed over the purple knob of pleasure, softer white hot when her head rose all the way up and just her lips sucked the tiny slit at its top.
Zelda wanted to finish him in her mouth, but there was the fire in her crotch and she knew that she had to fuck him again. His body glistened with sweat as she slid her big tits over and up his body, spreading her plump thighs wide to capture his throbbing cock in her wet love trap. She impaled herself on him, slowly grinding herself down until there was no more of him left to take, but it was enough to bring her off several times before the boy unloaded his sperm deep into her cunt.
When it was through, and Zelda knew that it was all over because she didn't feel like it anymore, she told him to leave. He was surprised by her tone of voice, from the passionate woman that had fucked and sucked him back to the stern Miss Gruder. It seemed incongruous to him as she spoke coolly while laying on her back naked, her legs love wet and spread wide. But he was tired, too, and wanted to swim or loaf in the cooler environment of the water. He closed the door behind him and never bothered to say good-bye to Miss Gruder. He very much preferred Zelda to Miss Gruder.
Zelda would lay there on the bed for a long time after supper while Martin went swimming and she would never know that she had won a friend. Martin's attitude changed subtly after he had his session with the woman, but the fears that he had experienced before were still there. It was simply that he wondered whether what Zelda had done was really so bad. Thinking of her passion he was unable to condemn her for he would have had to condemn himself for he had been just as much a party to the affair as she had been instigator. Yet hadn't he always harbored the idea of fucking her? He couldn't deny it.
Martin justified himself for fucking Zelda. She was old enough to know better and he was old enough to want to have a woman. Their bodies made argument pointless. It had been done. It had been done twice. He was still a bit confused about his role, feeling some guilt and knowing his own participation at the same time.
Martin swam out from the surf only a few yards before rolling over onto his back and floating. The water refreshed him, but he was still too fatigued to really make his promised effort to swim all the way to the reef. There was no doubt that he could make it. He had gone farther than that many times, but there was no need to prove anything then.
He had rolled over and dove under the water before coming out of the lagoon. His eyes were still salt-misty and burned pleasantly as he blinked himself back into focus. He was already up onto the sand when he first noticed that Mary was standing close. Martin plopped down on the sand and looked up at her. She smiled and came to him.
"Hi. What's happening?" It was inane and Martin knew it as soon as he had said it, but she was kind and didn't give him a smart-aleck remark. She sat down on the hot sand next to him.
"Hi."
"What's the matter? See a ghost?"
"No." She sat with her knees tucked up almost to her chin. Her face was turned toward the water, a profile for Martin to admire and he admired it. She had a firm jaw line, nice forehead and below her neck he was very pleased to see the full rise of her breasts as they stood out, straining almost, against the thin fabric of her blouse. She was a woman, too, he told himself, just younger, but the same as Zelda. But she was still a kid, just as he was still a kid. He wanted to touch her, but he knew that he shouldn't or couldn't. Was there some stigma on him after coming from Zelda?
"I don't think we're ever going to be rescued," she said finally, sifting the sand between her fingers. "I really don't think we will be. Do you?"
"Sure. I know that my old man'll be raising heaven and hell to find out where we are. There's probably a search party out right now, covering all the routes we were supposed to take. They'll find us. It's just a matter of time. Don't worry about it." He said the words, but he wasn't too certain himself whether he meant it, but the sound of his own voice telling it was all right seemed to make him believe it, too.
Mary looked down at him, her hair haloed brightly against the sun. "I don't think we will be rescued, but I don't really worry about that so much as I worry about what's happening to us. I mean Phillip's death. Did he kill himself? I keep wondering about it because when we used to talk together he often mentioned that he would like to die. He was like that, you know. I don't think it was an accident. Something drove him to it."
Martin looked up at her, shielded his eyes from the glare and shrugged. "It was an accident. Hell, everyone was warned about swimming alone. We don't know what kind of current this lagoon has. It was an accident."
"You don't believe that," Mary said. "I can tell that you don't believe it."
Martin turned away from her. He thought about what she had said and he knew that he had been kidding himself. The kid had killed himself. He wondered then if Mary knew about Phillip, knew that he was queer, that he had actually been caught at it. But it didn't matter. The kid was dead and there was nothing or anyone to blame. It was just done, ended. He was almost ready to get angry with her but he knew that would be pointless. If she knew then she knew he had killed himself and if she didn't know all about him then he was not going to tell her.
He didn't want to think about it and he didn't want her thinking about it. Slowly Martin rolled over onto his belly and without looking up tried to explain that he didn't care anymore. He told her that there was only one obligation on everyone's part and that was to keep alive. And to have fun if they could.
Later on they went to the dinner meal together and Martin found that it was easy to talk to Mary. She listened and that was something that he found very much in her favor. Being shy, he had always forced himself to speak in front of others, but he never liked it, until now. He suddenly found himself talking more than he had ever done before and talking on and on while the girl listened.
When they had finished eating, he was still talking, telling her all the funny things that had happened to him in school, while playing football, swimming or running on the track team. It was self-depreciating conversation, but he knew that she knew he was gently putting himself down to show himself at best advantage.
They went swimming together and stayed on the beach until the sun went down and suddenly they knew that they were the only ones on the island. No one else was around them and for the remaining hours they felt themselves the only survivors of the shipwreck.
Mary listened well to the boy, feeling for him as she had once felt for a swim coach a year ago, the first man who ever got into her panties. Mary knew that she was different from some of the other girls. She knew that they thought of her as the virgin, but she knew differently and she wouldn't have told any of them if her life had depended upon it. There are no seventeen-year-old virgins, the coach had told her and he proved it to Mary. She had been fucked the day before her seventeenth birthday. It had been the first and only time and she had enjoyed it but she never missed it when she knew that she would not get it from the coach again. But there on the beach in the stillness of the tropical night, she knew that this was a boy who would do it to her and she wanted him to do it to her. So she listened to his stories, laughed and smiled and oohed and ahhed at the right places and made him feel more manly than she knew he was.
It was only natural to lay closer to him on the sand and watch the brilliance of the constellations overhead and listen to the soft, hypnotizing music of the surf. It was just as natural to turn to him as he turned to her and natural, too, for their lips to meet in a gently discreet kiss that quickly turned to burning passion.
It wasn't the fear of his kiss that made her get up suddenly and run into the water. She was ready for Martin's body to join hers, but she didn't want to do it on the sand. She wondered if it was possible to do it in the water and knew that she was ready. Her feet were just able to touch to the bottom of the lagoon when Martin dove into the water beside her, churning up a big splash as he knifed several yards beyond her. She moved closer to the shore and when he turned she went back up on the beach and ran for the jungle, for the soft grass that edged the beach and that's where she stopped and pulled her wet blouse and shorts off. She wanted to be naked for him.
Mary remained very still, hidden in the shadow of the moon as she watched Martin climb onto the beach and come running for her. She stood quietly and waited until he was upon her and saw her nakedness. There was no need for words, only the need for each other. He shed his shorts and stood before her as naked as she and with his boy-manhood rising in front of him. Mary resisted the temptation to touch it, but felt it stab into her belly when he closed his arms around her.
They sank down onto the soft grass together and joined themselves. There seemed no need to hurry and Martin let his cock simply enter, hardly moving himself but simply allowing Mary's fevered body to come to him, to impale herself on his penis. Only when she had taken all of his cock in the tight young sheath of her cunt did Martin roll her onto her back and help spread her legs wide. Then he carefully moved his hips back and forth his cock sinking deep and withdrawing slowly as Mary took his rhythm for her own and wrapped her legs around him.
As Martin sunk his cock into Mary, he thought briefly of his afternoon with Zelda and the comparison was bad for Zelda. This beautiful young girl beneath his humping torso was everything that the older woman was not, all pure of thought and wondrously innocent and passionate at the same time while Zelda, to Martin's mind, represented some of the older people, degenerate, sick, evil. But as his body soared up on the wings of passion, he gave the older woman a passing tribute. He knew in a flash of remembrance that he would not have been able to do this as gently as he was if it had not been for her ministrations earlier in the day. But then she was forgotten as he lunged into the slick, tight love hole of the girl he had always thought to be a virgin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Zelda woke early the next morning, finding herself comfortably with a new feeling of confidence. Her second conquest of Martin had much to do with it. While he had been reluctant to come to her, he had come nevertheless and by doing so Zelda knew that she had him back in control. The rest would be easy.
Relaxed after a leisurely swim in the freshwater pool, she strolled around the camp and the beach, talking to all the kids, in groups or individually, reassuring them that everything would be all right. She was her old strict self, assured, authoritarian but just. Her tour around the camp served two purposes. The kids needed her image of stability and maturity and Zelda wanted to talk to Bob, knowing that he had to be next for a special treatment.
She didn't find him with the others, but during her period of indifference following the tragedy she had not been unaware of the boy's closeness to Antonio. On a couple of occasions she began to suspect that there was something queer going on, but she dismissed it.
As she thought, Bob was with Antonio, just coming out of the first mate's hut in fact as she walked up. He looked at her and seemed about ready to take off in another direction, but Zelda hailed him and he couldn't run. He waited for her to approach, digging his bare foot in the soft sand and looking at the patterns it made.
"I want to see you in my quarters, Bob," she said quietly. Her voice, however, had the edge of sharpness to it that intimidated the boy. Without looking up at her he nodded.
"When?"
"Come along now, if you like," she said and turned away from him. She felt a new sensation of power as she walked to her hut, hearing softly his footfalls behind her. If she had turned around, she knew that she would see him walking a few yards behind her, his head, no doubt, hanging and his hands stuffed in his pockets. But she didn't turn around. It didn't seem necessary.
Zelda felt that there was much that Bob could tell her about Phillip's suicide, but she didn't press him for details when she noticed his panicky look at the mention of the dead boy's name. Instead, she switched to other topics, loosening her blouse carelessly and seemingly unconsciously. It was a very deliberate gesture, however, and Zelda had planned it while she was walking up to the hut. Bob, she felt, would be much easier to win over than Martin had been, and Martin had been far easier than she had imagined him to be. She still had the power.
Bob responded eagerly when Zelda turned to him and asked him how everything was going. He fixed his eyes hungrily on the deep cleavage of her breasts and answered her questions without thinking. Yes, he told her, he knew that Ellen and Joan were playing with each other. And Ellen and the kid named John were actually fucking when Bob had discovered them.
Zelda was impressed only with the new name. She knew him, of course, but he had always seemed to be one of the background people, never very vocal and never in any kind of trouble. She dismissed him.
Zelda unbuttoned her blouse another button and felt a surge of pleasure as Bob's eyes almost seemed to bug out of his head. The perspiration on the boy's forehead was not all caused by the heat of the day. She wondered then if was worthwhile teasing him further. He had been very cooperative in answering her questions save her mention of Phillip.
"Would you like to fuck me, Bob?"
The boy was startled by the bluntness of her question and blushed furiously, nodding his head.
"Then get undressed," she said, slipping out of her blouse and shorts as she watched him get up slowly from the chair.
Zelda walked behind him and locked the door. She didn't want to be disturbed for a while. When she returned to the side of the bed where she had been standing Bob had already dropped his shorts. His cock stood proudly erect and waiting for her. She knew what he wanted, but there was something that he would have to do first.
Sitting on the edge of the bed as she had done the previous afternoon with Martin, she called Bob to her and told him that he would have to make love like a man, make her want him, she had said. She held his cock in one hand without moving and cradled his testicles with her other hand, weighing the heaviness and letting herself get more than a little aroused.
"Kneel down, Bob, and eat my cunt," she whispered, pulling the boy closer and downward.
He was disappointed at first that Zelda had not tried to give him a blowjob as she had done before, but his cock ached with the idea of ramming it into her pussy. The thought of going down on a woman repelled him, but the heat of his emotions made him put the idea away. He sank to his knees and let his head be guided between the warm plump thighs of the woman and as his nostrils filled with the musky heat of her pussy, he no longer cared about what he was going to do.
Zelda smiled to herself as Bob's face inched closer and closer to her cunt. She pulled his head into the steamy crotch and sighed as his tongue flicked out cautiously teasing the wet folds of her vagina. Zelda helped his mouth by spreading her pubes with her hands for him, opening herself wide to his inexperienced tongue. She shifted her body around to allow his warm probe to center on her clit, and when he heard her moan with more excitement he knew that he was licking at the right spot.
"Oh. Right there, Bob. Right there. Lick that little knob. Oh. that feels so good. Oh, Bob." Her voice crooned her appreciation of his efforts and he warmed to his task, licking her little nub with abandon, sucking it into his mouth, holding it between his teeth as his tongue danced over and around it.
Bob felt the pressure of her hands behind his head, forcing his mouth deeper into the greasy lips of Zelda's cunt, and he loved it. His cock was painfully hard and he enjoyed that, too, feeling that when she had come he would be rewarded and feeling, too, that there was some strange exciting satisfaction in bringing her off with his mouth. No wonder, he thought, that some of his older friends had told him that he would never be a man until he had eaten a sopping wet pussy and enjoyed it. The turmoil of his brain boiled with the juices of his cock and made him force his tongue to dance faster and faster over the little nub of her clitoris. He found an added thrill in hearing her pleasure moans and knew that he was doing the right thing. He wondered, too, where he had ever gotten the idea that eating cunt was repulsive. It was almost as satisfying as fucking.
Zelda leaned back across the bed, resting on her elbows and crooned softly as the boy's tongue dug into her slimy cleft, sending thrill upon thrill racing through her body. She reached one orgasm and clamped her thighs over the boy's ears and then relaxed, testing him to see if he knew what she had achieved. And he hadn't. With painful delight, she let him continue licking her snatch until she could hardly take another stroke of his tongue, but she forced herself and reached another throbbing finality of thrill before pushing his head away from her cunt.
There was a fatigue, an ennui, that seeped through her being, but she managed to spread her legs wide, placing her feet on the edge of the bed. "Fuck me, Bob. Put your cock in my cunt, Bob. Hurry."
He was still dizzy from the pressure of her thighs and the excitement that roared through his body, but he stood up and leaned over her widespread legs. Her hands were on him immediately, guiding his throbbing member into the hot cleft of her body. He shoved himself forward with all his effort and heard Zelda's satisfied cry as his testicles banged against her plump behind. She closed her legs around his waist and hunched herself upward to meet his impatient thrusts. Her heels slammed against his muscular buttocks as the boy fell forward, burying his mouth over her left breast. She let him suck it into rigidity as she felt his cock vomit his sperm deep into her yearning body.
Opening and closing her thighs, she squeezed his final drops out.
Zelda poured two glasses of brandy and brought one to Bob. He was resting on his elbows, stretched out on the bed, but Zelda didn't mind. He had given her a very good, if brief, stimulation with his cock. She looked down at him as she gave him the drink and thought that she much preferred his mouth. He was built well enough, bigger than Martin if not bigger than Antonio, but there was something about him that didn't hit her in the same way that Martin did or the way that Antonio did. She watched him as he took the drink and evaded her eyes. It wasn't the same kind of way that Martin had avoided her. He looked like he was skulking away like a thief.
She sat on the edge of the bed, letting the almost nonexistent breeze cool her naked body, and drank her brandy. It was searingly hot going down her throat, but she had come to enjoy it more and more and there was only a whisper of an idea of what she would have to do when the case of brandy was finished.
Bob didn't look at her except from under the partial secrecy of his arm across his forehead. There was so much to know about women and she was so expert as a woman that he felt awed by her presence. He wished that she would get dressed and as he thought about it, he swallowed his drink in a single gulp and reached for his shorts.
"I think that I better be going," he said quietly as he rose from the bed.
"Isn't there anything else that you want to tell me?" Zelda said, looking up at him and smiling her most comforting smile. "Something that I should know."
Bob shook his head and then he remembered last night as he walked along the beach in one of his usual nocturnal jaunts. Mary and Martin. He had already been fucked by Ann earlier and he wasn't too curious, but he suddenly realized that Zelda didn't know about them.
He told her.
Zelda stared at him like a madwoman when he spelled out the details of the tryst he had witnessed. But she was too clever to keep up the exposure of herself. She suddenly smiled and told Bob that it didn't matter, but that she really appreciated being informed about it. She would have taken him back to bed again, but she knew that he was anxious to leave, sated for the moment, she thought, and she was just as glad for that. She rose from the edge of the bed and closed her arms around him, rubbing her firm breasts against his bare chest and whispering her enjoyment of his lovemaking in his ear. He kissed her warmly on the mouth and left the hut, glad enough to be gone from the woman who held such power over him. He ran down to the beach and plunged into the lagoon, letting the salt water cleanse him of the love-induced perspiration.
After she had watched him run down to the water, Zelda poured herself another drink, swallowing that one as quickly as she had the first, burning out the sting of Martin's betrayal. She felt that it was that. Her hopes and confidence of the morning were shattered when Bob had told her what had happened. She was hurt. She felt that Martin had been hers, but then, she rationalized, she hadn't counted on the young cunt coming into the picture. That complicated the power she knew she still held over the boy.
Quickly she dressed and left the hot confines of her hut and walked over to Antonio's quarters. She wasn't sure that he would be in, but she went directly and opened his door. As she hurried through the door, the idea of revenge on the little slut crossed her mind and she realized that was why she had come to Antonio. He was even more predictable than the kids. He would do what she had in mind and he would add a few variations of his own in making her revenge very sweet. Mary, she thought, looked so much the virgin. Zelda smiled as she stepped into the warm darkness of Antonio's hut.
Her eyes weren't accustomed to the darkness after coming in from the brilliant sunlight, but she heard the rustle of the bed and guessed what was going on.
"Zelda, darling. What a pleasant surprise!" She heard his voice from the direction of the bed and looked that way. "But you could have knocked."
She laughed at the gibe, remembering that she had told him the same thing and when her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she saw why he wasn't anxious to be disturbed. Ann was sitting at his feet, her hands holding his rigid cock. It was all too apparent that she had been sucking off the first mate and she was just as obviously irritated at being interrupted.
"Go on, Ann. I know you can suck cock very well. Antonio likes that. Go ahead, dear. I want to watch you."
Antonio's laugh filled the hot silence. "Go on, little one. What's the difference? It's nothing that our own Miss Gruder hasn't done herself many times. Right, Mees Gruder?"
Zelda walked over to the table which was close to the bed and sat down. She took the bottle of brandy and sipped from it as she watched Ann's pretty face turn red and then bow over, taking Antonio's cock into her mouth. It was Zelda's turn to smile and feel the glow of desire throb through her body. Looking directly at Antonio, she blew him a silent kiss and passed the bottle over to him. All the while, Ann's head was bobbing up and down over the massive erection that Antonio presented to the juvenile's feverishly hard-working mouth.
Antonio took a few sips from the bottle and handed it back to Zelda. "The kid's quite a good cocksucker, huh? I think that she comes by it naturally."
"I want to talk to you," Zelda said, ignoring the girl. "There's a little something that I'd like you to join me in tonight. Do you understand?"
His eyes veiled with passion, Antonio glanced from the bobbing head of the teenager to the face of the woman. "Anything you say, Zelda, darling."
"I'll see you in my place when you've finished with her," she said, getting up and walking out.
Antonio nodded as Zelda left, but he was in no great hurry to finish with Ann. As the girl worked his cock with her eager mouth, he idly wondered what Zelda wanted, but there were more important things to think about then. He let the girl have her wish and filled her mouth with his hot sperm, holding his breath as she sucked on until the staff of flesh grew limp and his nerves couldn't take it any longer. When she had finally had done with him, he rolled her over onto her back and spread her legs wide. He pried open her pubes with his thumbs and buried his face in her crotch, letting her baby-fat plump thighs close gloriously around his ears. Within five minutes, he had tongue lashed the sensitive nub of her cunt into three howling orgasms for her, and the auditory stimulus brought his own passion up. Sinking his cock into her slippery envelope of love, he eased his weight down on the girl and let her do the hip-twitching work.
It was a most satisfactory afternoon for Antonio, and by the time he had finished with Ann, the hour was late. Yet he felt no regret that he had missed dinner and was not bothered at all that he had kept Zelda waiting for him. She would wait, he knew, and when he came she would be almost happy to see him even if she would attempt to browbeat him for his tardiness.
His lateness, however, seemed to have worked in Zelda's favor. She had gone through the kids once more and it took her quite a while after dinner before she was able to make contact with Mary Pendergast. And when she found the girl, it was obvious that what Bob had told her was true. She was with Martin on the beach. They were not really intimately close and Zelda would not have thought that of them if she had not had the prior knowledge, but having had it, their closeness made her more angry. The snip, she thought, would not be able to replace me yet.
Zelda wasn't strong with Mary, but she used her calm, authoritative manner with the girl, telling, rather than asking, her to come to her quarters. The girl nodded her agreement and while Martin was swimming, Zelda returned, waiting for both Mary and Antonio.
She didn't have any particular plan in mind, but she knew that she wanted to hurt the young girl, make her pay for the audacity of infringing on the adult rights that Zelda held. And she would make the girl pay, Zelda vowed.
Mary came to her quarters before Antonio, and when Zelda offered her a cup of tea, carefully laced with a healthy shot of brandy, the girl was taken by surprise. All the time she had thought that Zelda had gotten wind of the fact that she had been laid by Martin, but the older woman made no mention of it. They talked about girlish things, about the boys and, of course, about the possibilities of getting rescued. Once more Zelda played the reassuring adult and made Mary feel that rescue was just a day or two away.
Another cup of brandy and tea and the girl was beginning to feel the giddy effects of the drink. She used her secret personality and revealed herself to the nurse, told her how she didn't really care whether they were rescued or not, that she had found a wonderful boy and if they had to spend the rest of their lives on the island then she wanted to spend them with Martin. Zelda accepted the girl's conversation quietly.
By the time Antonio arrived, late but in this case very gratefully so for Zelda, Mary was feeling the brandy. She hardly noticed when the first mate walked in the door and locked it behind him. She was still engrossed in her conversation with Zelda. Over her head, the older persons exchanged glances and the man smiled with delight.
"Are you going to offer me a drink?" He already had his hand on the bottle when he said it, but he waited for Zelda to nod her head. She did and gave him a knowing smile. He tipped the bottle to his lips and drank greedily and then leaned over and poured a big dollop into Mary's teacup. "Very good for you, dear," he said softly.
Antonio was drunker than usual, weaving somewhat even when he had come in the door. It had been the combination of too much brandy, sun and Ann during the day, but he felt strong enough to handle anything that Zelda had to offer, and he had thought what she was offering was herself. The sight of Mary, slightly tipsy, in Zelda's chair, however, made the first mate know differently. The girl was not as strikingly good-looking as the much desired Joan or even as teasingly provocative as little Ann, but there was her young quim ready to be plucked, and he knew that was what Zelda had wanted him for.
Zelda moved over to Mary, helped the girl to her feet and let her sway against her bosom. She was already drunker than Zelda had wanted her to be, but it made it easier to remove the girl's clothes, despite the groggy protests.
Supporting the naked girl, Zelda led her over to the bed and stretched her out. Mary looked dizzily around the room, finally focusing her eyes on Antonio. The first mate was moving across the room towards the bed, and he was naked, his enormous cock standing stiffly in front of him, a lance that Mary slowly realized was going to be used on her. She cried out and started to get up from the bed, but Zelda held her down as Antonio grabbed her ankles and spread her legs wide.
"Fuck the little bitch good, 'Tonio," Zelda whispered hoarsely. She twisted the girl's arms back and over her head as Antonio eased himself between the soft young thighs.
Mary's crotch was suddenly fear dry as the massive knob of Antonio's cock bumped thickly against her pubes. He released her ankles then and used his fingers to pry her cunt lips apart, his thumbs forcefully irritating her clitoris. She kicked at him, but there was no power in her efforts, dulled from the booze and slow. Antonio just pushed her knees back and continued his devilish work on her clit, massaging desire into her cunt where she did not want to have desire, not this way. She cried out again, but Zelda's free hand came down over her mouth.
"Just shut up and enjoy it, dear," she said. "Or you'll be a lot sorrier. I know about you and Martin, all about it. Now, you're going to get all the sex you ever dreamed about and some you might not have dreamed."
Antonio laughed as the girl squirmed her hips in a futile attempt to get away from his taunting fingers. She tried to clamp her legs around his hands, but the pressure on her clit became more agonizing and she had to relax. Despite her efforts, she felt herself grow more and more flustered as her involuntary glands formed the necessary lubricant. Antonio felt the warm wetness between her legs and spread the love juice down and into her hole with the head of his penis. Then he slowly eased himself into her twisting body, his thick-knobbed cock stretching cruelly her tight youthful vagina. Mary cried out softly, still muffled by Zelda's hand. The pain was excruciating and she cried again, this time biting the woman's hand.
Zelda pulled her hand back and swung it down viciously, cracking the girl on one side of the face and then the other. "Bite me, you little bitch? Take that and that," she said, her eyes blazing with a fury that Mary could not imagine to be sane. "Ram it to her, 'Tonio. I want her fucked until she can't walk."
Antonio crushed his weight down on the girl, holding her arms when Zelda had released them. His cock drove into her tight pocket with renewed fury. It was as though he, too, was caught up in the madness that Zelda expressed in her angry face. The girl fought him as best she could, her legs kicking madly at his back. But nothing she did seemed to make the awful pain between her legs go away and still the first mate jammed, rammed and shoved her cunt until she thought that he was going to split her half. She tried to relax, wanted to relax for she knew that would make the pain less intense, but her panic wouldn't allow her to relax. She fought the big man and tried vainly to squirm out from under his weight, to get away from the awful punishing pole of flesh that was ripping her apart.
Tears streamed down her face as she finally realized that fighting the big man was useless, but her body would not allow her to relax, but it was a different tension that began to build in her muscles. The pain seemed suddenly to have diminished and in its place came the fearful and pleasant sensations of sexual passion. It was all wrong, so terribly wrong, she kept saying, but her body denied her, betrayed her and even over the cruel laughter of Zelda and Antonio, she felt her legs wrap around the first mate, felt herself rise quickly to an orgasmic peak and plunge deliciously over the threshold. Again and again the long hot rod of Antonio's cock eased in and out of her cunt sending new thrills of desire shooting through her body. Now her tears were passion-induced, her eyes dimmed with the rush of blood and the pounding excitement of the huge penis-piston working her crotch madly and wonderfully. Mary ceased her crying. Her breath came in short gasps, keeping pace with Antonio's driving cock. Her head was swimming and the laughing face of Zelda seemed far away, a dim face at the end of a long tunnel and the voices, too, only echoed around in her head but made no sense to her.
"Turn her over, 'Tonio. See how she likes it up her ass," Zelda said, smiling down at the girl and feeling the crazy excitement of the rape pound furiously through her body. She had stripped out of her own clothes when she noticed that Mary was reaching ah orgasm. There was no need to hold the girl. The girl was being held more securely by her own fiery passions.
Laughing wildly, Antonio pulled his cock dripping from Mary's cunt and quickly flipped the girl over onto her belly. He forced her legs up underneath her and patted the round firm flesh of her haunches admiringly.
Mary made no protest of the new position, grateful for the moment of being able to feel the warm air, cool to her, brush soothingly over her fevered cunt. She relaxed and felt almost comfortable with her ass high in the air. She felt herself grow soft and mushy, a piece of marshmallow. Her muscles refused to contract. She had no fight left in her. She was only dimly aware of the painful pleasure of the man's hands above her hips. It tickled her, but she had no strength even to giggle. She felt the goosing touch of his cock at the rim of her anus, twitched her muscles slightly and then felt the jabbing, searing pain as the knob pushed through the ring. Her body tried to squirt forward, but his hands held her tightly while his massive organ slid inexorably deeper and deeper up her rectum.
The initial entry was painful, but still dizzy from her multiple orgasms, she suddenly found that the thick pole in her ass had some pleasantness. She felt filled up, almost gaggingly so, but there was the sweet feeling of it, too, and as the cock pulled out and sunk in again she felt herself respond to this novel method. Her hips rolled back to meet Antonio's penis, feeling the painful sweetness of his enormity slide deep into her rectum.
Zelda watched as the girl's expression had changed from pain to pleasure and she felt more angry than ever. Without a moment's hesitation, she eased herself onto the bed, spreading her legs around the girl's head. Mary hardly noticed her until she felt a hand take a lock of hair and felt her face being guided to the yawning wet split between Zelda's thighs.
Mary attempted to shake her head, to move away from what the woman wanted, but her rectum was being assaulted most delightfully and with the dizziness of the brandy and her own passion she couldn't fight. She let her mouth be pulled down to the dark thatch of hair and knew what had to be done. She simply stuck out her tongue and drove it into the wet folds of Zelda's cunt, licking up and down the puffy pubes of the older woman, lighting finally on the rigid nub of her clitoris. Zelda moaned her approval, but she held the girl's hair, feeling the sensation of control that gave her more keenly than the girl's hot tongue in her cunt.
His senses brandy dulled and his face sweating from the exertions, Antonio shoved into the girl's ass with all his might, ramming his burning cock deeper and unloading his long delayed orgasm hotly in her bowels. At the same moment, Zelda clamped her sweaty thighs around the girl's head and experienced a throbbing orgasm that made her grip the sides of the bed tightly.
When she and Antonio finally got up from the bed, Mary stayed, half sleeping, half crying and laughing, but too weak to move. Zelda laughed and turned to Antonio.
"I hope you've saved enough of that cock for me, 'Tonio. Come here and let me wash you off a little," she said, smiling at the swaying first mate. He laughed and stepped over to the wash basin with the woman and felt a new surge of pleasure through his limp cock as she rinsed it and his balls gently and tantalizingly.
Satisfied that was almost ready, Zelda dropped to her knees and took his thick-knobbed penis between her lips, nursing the soft head with little puckering movements of her mouth until she could feel the flesh grow harder and begin to stand erect. Holding his cock in her hand she led him over to the table, pushed back the bottle and the lantern and spread herself over it. "Fuck me, Tonio," she said, edging her ass over the rim of the table and guiding his stiff cock between the warm slippery thighs and into the gaping hole of her cunt. Before he could reach an orgasm, Mary woke up and started to leave, but they stopped her. Zelda then forced the girl down to her knees and guided Antonio's cock into the girl's mouth. Zelda stood back and watched as the first mate held the back of Mary's head and forced his cock in and out of her tear-stained face, her dribbling wet mouth until she saw him tighten his buttocks as he released his sperm down the girl's throat. They let her go after she had put her clothes on.
CHAPTER NINE
"I'll kill him," Martin said. "I'll kill both of them. God, they have to be stopped, Mary."
Martin had waited for her under the palm tree for hours, but when she didn't show up he had wandered down the beach, trying to forget her and not realizing that she had been with Zelda. He should have known and even while he comforted the hysterical girl, he cursed his stupidity.
Slowly and painfully, Mary had sobbed out the whole story of her rape, stopping every few minutes for a new burst of tears. She had wanted to kill herself when Zelda and Antonio finally let her go, kill herself more for failing herself and allowing herself to enjoy what they had done to her than over the shame of it having happened at all.
It was almost daylight when Martin found her. She had tripped through the soft sand and down to the beach, hoping that she would find Martin there. She wanted to go to bed, but she knew she couldn't sleep. When the cool water of the lagoon woke her, however, she knew she couldn't kill herself and all the while that was what she was thinking, wanting, and then he was there beside her, holding out his hand and helping her back onto the beach, and then gently taking her wet clothing off so that she could dry in the warm air.
He held her naked body close to himself, shielding her from the panic-induced shivers that wracked her body. It was a tender moment and while he looked at her curves in the dim light of the moon he felt no desire for her then, only the desire to protect her, comfort her.
"We'll have to get the others and work out a plan to get away from them." he said when Mary had finally relaxed. He held her still, but her breathing had slowed to normal and she was no longer chilled. "You'll have to help, Mary. Can you do it?"
She nodded. She couldn't do much else, she thought, and words only seemed to make her want to cry, but she agreed with Martin. They would have to run away and hide in the jungle until the rescue came and it would surely come. It would come, she kept telling herself, and the nightmare of Zelda and Antonio would be over.
"You'll have to get the girls," he said. "I'll get the boys together. But you'll have to convince them that we're in danger, all of us."
Martin didn't wait for Mary to reply. He was trying to think of what they could do. He knew that the first mate had a knife, and the unpleasant realization that Antonio would not hesitate to use it made Martin shiver. Quickly he ran through the boys' names, trying to find one or two big enough- to help him take Antonio if it had to come to a fight. Bob Haas was the only boy big as himself, but Martin knew that there was no love lost between them and Haas was pretty thick with Antonio. He decided to count Bob as an enemy, and then realized that there was no one else who could help him.
They were in no immediate danger, however, Martin thought, and they wouldn't be until there was some sign that there would be a rescue. But he remembered what Antonio had told him, that within a month a serious search would be made, since they would have missed their arrival time by more than a couple of days. But how far had they been blown off course? Martin had no way of knowing. He wasn't even very sure just exactly how long they had been on the island. A month? Six weeks? Time seemed to elude him. It didn't matter, he told himself. The important thing to remember was that they would be rescued.
He brooded for a long time and then became warmly conscious of Mary's nude body pressed against him. For an instant he was tempted to make love to her, but immediately felt ashamed of himself. She had been through enough, and he knew that he needed her, needed her to protect his own sanity.
She was almost asleep, but he had to disturb her to go and wake the others, tell them what he knew and make them promise to meet after breakfast somewhere away from the camp, away from Zelda and Antonio.
He went through the old barrack quonset hut, woke each boy in turn and explained what he had in mind. It wasn't easy, for he wasn't sure just what he did have in mind, but he was reassured when he spoke to Ronnie. The boy broke down and told Martin what had happened to him almost the first week they had landed. Martin told his own story and the boy, in turn, became reassured. The thought of adventure against the adults, perhaps, making him an enthusiastic follower. Bob wasn't in his bed.
Mary went to the girls' rooms and told them what had happened. She was surprised, but she couldn't make any judgment about the implications of it, when she found Joan and Ellen sleeping together. The older girl, Joan, seemed shocked and readily agreed that they should get away, but Ellen seemed indifferent. What could they do, she asked. She received the same kind of question from Ann, while the youngest girl, Norma, only started to cry. In the end, however, Mary had convinced the other four girls that they would have to let Martin explain.
Back on the beach just as the sun was coming up, Martin and Mary met. Though neither had slept, they felt more wide awake than ever. "It's all set," Martin said. "We'll meet after break- fast down around the other side of the point. How did the girls take it?"
Mary explained the different reactions of the girls, but assured Martin that they would be at the meeting, all of them. "Are you all right?" Martin asked. His hand moving slowly over to Mary's waist and bringing her close to him. "You're not scared now, are you?"
She shook her head and then lifted her face to his, kissing him warmly on the lips before breaking away. "I'll be fine. But I don't want to see them again. I'm going down to the meeting place. Explain for me."
Martin held her close, feeling very protective and grown up, and then he released her, watching her as she ran across the sand and finally out of sight.
He had impressed on all the boys that they were to say nothing, to try to act normal when Antonio or Zelda came around and to try to leave the camp area individually. Despite his warnings, however, he could feel the tension when he came back and stood in the breakfast line. The boy and girl appointed for the cooking chore were nervous and nearly spilled his powdered eggs. He whispered some assurance to them and then walked off to sit under a tree as Zelda came down the path from her hut. He looked past her and tried to determine if Antonio was far behind, but the first mate didn't appear. He tried to look away, but not before he-saw Zelda smiling at him, nodding a greeting that he almost felt like not returning. He waved at her, however, and returned to his eggs, eating quickly so that he would be finished before she could come over and sit beside him.
Zelda took only hot tea for her breakfast and, seeing Martin hurrying through his breakfast, she wanted to talk to him. She carried her cup over and sat down on the grassy patch of ground next to him.
"Good morning, Martin," she said. "I hope you had a pleasant sleep last night."
"While you were raping Mary," he answered between his tightened jaws. "You rotten bitch. How could you do such a thing?" He turned and was ready to hit her when Antonio came down the path.
Zelda stood up, dumping her tea on the ground and running toward the first mate. Martin watched her go, and throwing his plate down ran off through the jungle.
There was something in his voice that frightened Zelda, shook her from her cool composure. She knew that he was going to strike her and she had run, letting her power over the boy crumble. Antonio hadn't heard what was said, but he took Zelda in his arms and listened as she explained that the girl had told Martin and that there was bound to be trouble. He laughed at her and patted the shiny knife at his side. "Not much trouble, Mees Gruder. Not with this around. There's nothing to worry about. A fucking kid, that's all. I'll fix him."
It had happened so fast that Zelda hadn't realized that the other children were watching, waiting for something and then suddenly they, too, ran away. She realized then that Martin and Mary must have told them everything. Her body shook as she felt her control whisked away. She turned to Antonio. "Look at them. Where are they going? What the hell is happening?"
"Let 'em go. What can they do? And stop that fucking blubbering. I want something to eat." He walked away from her and picked up the ladle in the pan of scrambled powdered eggs where the kid had been dishing them out. He heaped the food on his plate and ate hungrily. But he was thinking of what might happen should the rescue come very soon. He knew that there were laws about rape, and he knew that the girl wouldn't dare tell on him if she hadn't had the boy to back her up. It didn't take long for him to decide what he had to do. The kid must go. An accident. Tut, tut, and all that, he laughed to himself. He knew how to handle it. Quickly, he finished his meal and went off into the jungle to find the kids, especially to find Martin. Antonio knew he had to kill Martin.
Antonio spent the better part of an hour searching the immediate area of the camp. The kids were nowhere around and he was about to give up and return to Zelda when he ran into Bob. Quickly he explained what had happened and got the big blond boy to join him. Together they went farther into the jungle, spread out and eventually met back at the camp. Neither of them had had any luck.
"They can't be hidden forever," Antonio said. "Let's find Zelda and start a real search plan."
They ran over to Zelda's hut and burst through the door and found the solution to their problem had been solved already by the nurse. Strapped to a chair with a gag in her mouth was Joan Tribble.
Antonio looked over at Zelda and made a little bow. "You surprise me, Mees Gruder. How did you manage to capture such a pretty prize?"
Zelda explained how she saw Joan return to the camp after the others had gone. "She's not as strong as she looks," Zelda said. "It was easy. And now, little miss, where are the others?"
The girl shook her head. Zelda reached over and hit her on each side of the face. "I think that you'll tell us sooner or later. Won't she, 'Tonio?"
The first mate laughed and stepped closer to Joan, lifted her face, now stained with tears and red from the slaps. "Sure she will, huh, conchita? I'm going to take your gag off, but you mustn't make a fuss." He slipped the rag from her mouth, held it threateningly in front of her until he was convinced that she wasn't going to scream. "Now tell us where the others are. It's so much easier that way."
"I won't," Joan said. "You're bad, all three of you. The kids have decided to stay hidden until the rescue boat comes."
Zelda looked up at Antonio. "Not very cooperative, is she? Perhaps she'd like a little treatment."
Antonio needed no further encouragement. He reached down and ripped the girl's blouse open, exposing her full firm breasts. Smiling still, he spread the blouse wide to let his hands have better access to the pert globes of flesh. He ran his fingers over them, pinching the nipples softly until they sprang involuntarily erect. Joan gave a cry and tried to twist away, but her movements were limited by the straps holding her to the chair.
"Don't. Please don't," Joan cried. "Please. You're hurting me." She cried out louder when he pinched her nipple viciously.
"Tell us where the others are."
"No. I can't."
Antonio smiled down at the girl and then untied her from the chair, helping her to her feet. Her hands were still clamped together behind her back and her ankles tied together. Carefully he lifted her and carried her to the bed, laying her face down over the cover. With expert fingers, he unfastened her shorts and pulled them down below her knees, leaving her round firm ass bare and helplessly upended. Her legs were on the floor, her face almost buried in the bed. She was sobbing hysterically, knowing immediately what was going to happen to her. In some ways, the rape by the big man was what she had been secretly desiring for a long time. But it was different now. She knew she was going to be hurt.
Rough fingers began to pry apart her buttocks and, with a surge of strength, Joan twisted over and fell on the floor. Antonio only laughed at her, lifting her easily back onto the bed, this time stretched full length on it, her arms painfully pinned beneath her own weight. He had a demented look in his eye as he leaned over her and put his hand on her dark triangle, massaging her mound intimately. Fear kept Joan from feeling more than his hand. There was no erotic tingle to this touch now as it might have been some other time. At least there was immediate sensation of pleasure, but even as she stared through her tears at the big first mate she wondered how long she would be able to take the warm pressure of his hand. And while she thought of it and the tears started anew, she felt his finger slip down and glide between her pubes. She clamped her legs tightly together, but his thick finger found her clit and began to stroke her screaming nerves with methodical certainty, devastatingly sensitive touches that made her twist her hips and attempt to roll away from him, but he was too strong. The finger worried her cunt until she was nearly blind with fear and passion.
Antonio called Bob over and had him hold her legs while he unfastened her ankles and pulled her shorts completely off. "I think she'll talk a bit better after she's been fucked a few times, don't you, Bob?"
Joan attempted to kick the boy, but he was almost as strong as Antonio. He held her legs down on the bed, pressing his hands cruelly into the soft flesh above her knees. Then she watched in horror and fascination as the first mate stripped out of his shorts, his massive cock leaping upward, a staff of punishment and delight, and Joan knew that it would be punishment for her. She cried again and started to scream, but suddenly Zelda's hand was over her mouth, closing off the cry.
"Shove the rag back in her mouth," Antonio said and waited while Zelda squeezed the girl's jaws open and jammed in a knotted cloth, carefully tying it around the girl's head.
Zelda then took one of the girl's legs, lifted it and spread her open. She indicated to Bob to do the same thing and with mounting delight in the proceedings, he spread Joan's other leg until the girl was almost suspended from the bed, cunt gaping wide for the throbbing cock of Antonio.
The first mate clambered onto the bed, kneeling for an instant between the girl's widespread legs before lowering his body downward, carefully aiming his heavy lance at her love pocket. She was dry with fear and crying through the gag as his thick cock head pressed against her cunt. Movement was futile though she tried. She felt his fingers prying open her pubes and then felt the full stab of his cock as it ripped through the dry tissue. Her scream of pain was muffled, but her legs contracted so violently that Bob and Zelda almost lost their hold on them. Antonio's hard shaft pulled back out of her cunt and then rammed in again, and then repeated until Joan's natural juices made the passage in and out less painful if no less humiliating.
When Antonio had spewed his come deep into her body, he pulled himself out quickly, grabbed the leg that Bob was holding and let the boy have his way with the girl. Bob was just as vicious as the first mate, but her cunt had been well lubed by Antonio and Bob's cock slid into her with ease. But he jammed himself into her like a madman, slamming his pelvic bone against hers until she had to cry out through the gag.
By the time he had finished, Antonio was ready again, but this time there was no need for Joan's legs to be held wide apart. She felt her crotch burn and suddenly no longer cared what they were doing to her. Despite herself, she was beginning to react pleasurably to the assaults, and, though her legs were dangling helplessly around the first mate's body, her hips began to roll with each thrust of his huge cock, rising to meet the thick pole of flesh as it buried itself in her cunt.
"Want the gag out?" Antonio asked. He was resting on his elbows over the girl's body, his face close to her ear. He recognized the reaction he was getting from Joan, the familiar responsive rolling of the girl's hips, her upward thrusts to meet his cock. He knew she was coming with almost every other stroke. Her eyes were wide but glazed over in the fever of her passion.
Joan nodded her head and quickly Antonio removed the muffling rag from her mouth. She gasped and swallowed several times, but while she was trying to get her mouth returned to normal, she never missed a stroke with her hot tossing body. "Thank you," she finally managed to whisper.
Zelda came over to the bed again and put her face close to the girl's. "Want to tell us where the others are, Joan?" She, too, had recognized the girl's uncontrollable passion as Antonio and Bob had fucked her. She was getting more than she had ever had at one time, and Zelda realized that in her present state she wouldn't be too difficult.
Her breath short and the sweet pain between her legs almost unbearable, Joan only half listened to Zelda, but she understood and spoke like a drunk, her words slurred in the heat of her passion, but clear enough for Zelda. In the cave under the waterfall.
Antonio laughed and lunged his cock deep into the girl and shot his load. "I know where that is," he said. "It's where Ellen and Joan used to scarf each other."
The girl looked at the grinning face just above hers and stared with wide eyes and then turned her face away. He had seen. They all knew. She whimpered even as she felt another orgasm rip through her body and blushed furiously. She wanted to die.
"Get up, Tony," Bob said. "I want to have some more fun, too."
Antonio rolled over and rose from the bed.
"You like the sloppy seconds?"
Bob glared at him while Zelda stood off and smiled. Flustered, he looked at Zelda and then back at Antonio. "No." he said, smiling evilly, "I've got a better idea. 'I'm going to take her like we took Phillip."
He suddenly realized what he had said and before he could roll Joan over onto her stomach, Zelda was upon him. "What the hell did you mean by that?" She didn't wait for the boy to answer before she cracked him across one side of the face and then the other. "What did you do to that kid? Tell me, you little son of a bitch, or I'll tear your testicles off."
Frightened, Bob stood back and blubbered put the story of his and Antonio's rape of Phillip. Zelda looked away and said nothing. Suddenly she ran from the door and with her laughter ringing in their ears she was gone.
Antonio glanced over at Bob. "Well, go ahead, kid. You might as well enjoy it. But what in the hell made you say something like that to her? Shit." He turned from Bob and reached for his shorts, pulling them on even as he moved out of the door and went after Zelda.
"Bob," Joan said quietly, "what were you talking about? Don't hurt me, Bob. Please don't hurt me."
The big blond boy looked down at the girl, helplessly spread-eagled on the bed, her arms still tied behind her back, her legs too tired to close in modesty. Why didn't she scream? If she had hollered or made a fuss it would have been so easy. But she was just quietly pleading with him, begging him, but no longer begging out of fear, just begging out of fatigue.
Shaking his head, he turned from her and went over and put on his shorts. Suddenly he knew that what he was doing was very wrong and stepping back to the bed, he rolled Joan over and untied her wrists. He didn't wait for her to get up. He ran out to look for Antonio.
Joan lay on the bed for a few minutes, letting the blood re-circulate through her hands and arms and feeling so tired that she wanted to sleep. But she knew that she had to warn Martin and the others about the meeting place, the one they had decided upon after the first meeting at the point. It had even been her suggestion. She had felt that it was the safest place on the island, but then she remembered that she and Ellen had been seen there. There were no secrets, and Joan wondered then if the other kids knew. Slowly she got up and dressed herself, tying the torn blouse as best she could to hold her sore breasts in tightly. She felt dirty, used and wanted to plunge into the fresh-water pool as she ran past it, but she had to warn the others.
CHAPTER TEN
It had been Martin's suggestion that they all return to the camp, the boys going carefully ahead and each armed with a heavy stick. Martin knew that the weapons were pretty useless, but he thought that a show of force might prove effective.
Earlier in the day they had listened to Joan's calm recital of her rape at the hands of Antonio, Bob and Zelda. And then they heard what had happened to Phillip. It was Martin who had to spell out for the girls what had been meant when Bob wanted to turn Joan over. But if there was shock all around the group, it didn't show. For herself, Joan thought it was terrible, but Mary remembered her own reactions to being buggered. Even as she thought of the night before she blushed and held onto Martin's hand tighter.
They were almost back to the camp when one of the boys in front shouted for everyone to be quiet. "It's a plane," he cried. They listened and then they all heard the steady drone of a small plane.
Forgotten was the trio at the camp as they ran out of the jungle and onto the beach. The girls all took off their blouses and were waving them frantically overhead when the sound gradually died away. Now the keen sense of disappointment ran through the group, but Martin rallied them. Wait, he told them. It has to come back. It must, he prayed to himself, squeezing Mary's hand even tighter than she had squeezed his.
And it came back, swinging low over the edge of the jungle. Some of the kids ran out into the surf and waved hysterically, and they were seen. The pilot swooped low and banked sharply and made another pass over the group. Pulling up, the plane seemed to hover and then Martin noticed that the pilot was wagging the wings. They had been seen.
The plane made another pass over them and then took out over the water. Martin sat down on the sand and wanted to laugh out loud. It was all right, he kept shouting to the others, reassuring them that they had all been seen and the pilot was probably already radioing for help. It was the end of it all, he cried, and he really cried, tears running down his cheeks as Mary pressed him to her bosom.
"How soon before they send help?"
He told the group that gathered around him that they would probably be on a homeward bound boat tomorrow. It was the greatest news they could have heard.
The droning engine did not go unnoticed by Zelda and Antonio, either. Both of them watched the circling plane and when Antonio pointed out how it had wagged its wings he said, "It's all over, Mees Gruder. They were spotted by the plane all right. So now what?"
Zelda looked up at him and shook her head. "I don't really know, 'Tonio. It could mean a helluva jail sentence for us. Statutory rape and all that."
"Maybe not," Antonio said, slipping his knife from his belt "Maybe not I sort of think that the kids will be too glad to be able to go home. They're all not exactly innocent themselves, you know. They might be just as worried about the truth as you are."
Zelda looked at him, recognizing for the first time that the man was not just the burly stud that she had always taken him for. But she told herself that he was all wrong. After what they had done to Mary and Joan and after what they had done to Phillip? She shook her head. It was an impossible idea. Somewhere something had happened. Martin and Mary had found some sort of puppy love, but it was worse than a more mature kind. The boy would be out for vengeance and he wouldn't care if he had to drag his girl friend's name through the dirt.
She looked up at Antonio suddenly. "You know, you might be right. But only if we can keep Martin from blowing the whole thing. He's the one I worry about." She looked down at the knife that Antonio had pulled from his belt. It gave her an idea. "An accident?"
Antonio flicked his thumb over the edge of the blade. He nodded and laughed. "An accident. It's so understandable on an island."
After Bob had run out from the hut and left Joan behind, he realized that he didn't want to be with Zelda or Antonio. For the first time in his life, he felt the sharp pain of remorse over what he was about to do to Joan and it made him sick. He turned from the beach and ran toward the waterfall area. He ran for a long time, but he never found the waterfall, only more and more jungle and bugs and heat. Wandering for a couple of hours, he realized that he was running nowhere.
He sat down at last, exhausted, his flesh bruised badly from the leaves he had run through. He knew that he would never find the other kids and as he sat alone in the heat of the afternoon and heard the plane overhead, he realized that they might not want him back even if he did find them. Rested, he got up and started walking back toward the camp. What he had done was done, he told himself. There would be a rescue and when he was back home his father would take care of everything. He hadn't really killed Phillip, he told himself. The stupid faggot killed himself. It was simple and the more he thought about it the quicker his pace through the jungle became. But it was slow going through the underbrush.
Antonio smiled at Zelda and walked away into the jungle. He knew the way to the waterfall, but since Joan had escaped he felt certain the kids would not be there. He considered the possibility that with the prospect of an imminent rescue that they might try to return to the camp and the more he thought of it the more convinced he became. Would they sneak up? Of course. It seemed so obviously the thing to do. There were, after all, ten of them against the two. He hefted the knife and moved through the underbrush slowly, his ears straining to hear the slightest strange sound.
So like a dumb kid, Antonio thought when he heard something. He froze behind a tree and listened more intently to the footfalls. A dumb kid, he thought, coming through like the cavalry, not caring that he was making any noise or that someone might be there to squelch his invasion.
Antonio waited until the leaves near the path swung outward and then he whirled around the tree, his knife belly level and driving hard. He felt the resistance of first impact and then the sickening slip of the blade as it cut through. There was a gasp, hardly louder than a cough and then silence. Antonio had struck the boy even before he could see the face and when he did he dropped his grip on the handle and left the knife buried to the hilt in Bob Haas' belly.
After the plane had left, Martin called everyone around him and told them that the best thing to do was to stick together on the beach. They would not be going back to the camp until the next morning.
"It's almost sunset now," he said. "The best thing to do is to find someplace around here that's comfortable and wait until dawn. We'd only get lost in the dark."
They knew that they wouldn't be eating anything that night, but the glorious thoughts of rescue the next day made the pangs of hunger faint. They could wait.
Martin and Mary sat on the sand for a long time after the others had found places to lay down. There had been enough excitement to make most of them sleepy early, but the two oldest, Martin and Mary, were still talking quietly on the beach after the stars had come out. Yet they seemed to have very little to say, a rehash of what had happened in the last twenty-four hours and then the silent conversation of their bodies so close together. There was no further need to comfort Mary, and both of them became aware of the fact that rescue would mean the end of their relationship. Without a word, Martin helped Mary to her feet and led her across the cool sand and into the shelter of the jungle's edge. He made her lay down and told her to try to get some sleep.
"Stay with me," she said.
"I can't. I'm going back to the camp and see what has happened. They heard the plane, too, you know. Don't worry. I'll be all right. Wait for me."
Mary had not had much sleep in the last day and while she protested Martin's leaving, she was suddenly very tired and the cool grass felt too inviting to resist. She waved farewell to him and turned over. It was something that boys had to do, she thought, a shiny armor kind of thing, and it made her feel better thinking of that.
Martin kept close to the edge of the jungle until he was about two hundred yards from the camp. Then he moved deep into the underbrush and crept softly toward the camp.
The moon was up by then and made its eerie light bright on the dark green foliage. He pushed through it slowly and froze as the moon exposed the corpse of Bob Haas. Martin wanted to be sick, but he stood and looked down at the dead boy, the knife, Antonio's knife, still buried in his belly.
Martin turned and moved back to where the others were sleeping on the beach as quickly as he could. Suddenly he realized that they were all in danger. When he reached the beach, however, he knew he couldn't make it to the others. Antonio stood about twenty yards from him. For a second neither moved and then the first mate charged in a low crouch, his powerful arms tensed and low for a brutal tackle. Martin gauged his run and sidestepped the big man and ran for the water. He wasn't sure that Antonio was a good swimmer, but he knew that he was and knew that he would have to swim for his life. But at the last second, Martin changed his mind and dashed through the surf instead of plunging into the water. Antonio raced behind and he was gaining on the boy. As the fear of what the boy knew hammered in his head, the first mate found new strength, his breath coming in great gulps, but he knew he was going to catch Martin.
The boy felt like plunging into the water, but he knew his wind was going fast. Antonio was rapidly closing the distance and seemed to be getting stronger. As he neared the point, he remembered the coral, just slightly submerged. If he could.... He stopped and swallowed deeply, breathing faster to hyper-aspirate himself. Then as Antonio's big hands were almost upon him, Martin hurled himself into the water, arching his body to hit the surface flat and, hopefully, shallow enough to avoid the jagged coral just beneath the surface. Antonio cursed as the boy's body seemed to melt away from his grasp and into the water. The boy was swimming quickly away as Antonio made up his mind. Without looking, he plunged into the water, diving nicely, but unaware of the sharp edges of the coral inches under the surface.
From twenty yards out, Martin heard the scream as Antonio's torso was ripped open on the razor-edged coral. Then there was silence. Martin swam out another ten yards before slowly paddling his way back to the beach some distance from where he had dove in. In the light of the moon he could see the first mate's body floating face down on the calm water. The dark area around the body would be blood, he thought as he turned and walked slowly up the beach. This time he would find Zelda alone. There was no one else to confront her and what she had done to the group of kids in her charge.
It was nearly dawn when Martin stretched out beside Mary. The girl's warm body responded immediately even though she was not yet fully awake. He had come back, and she knew what she had to do. Her lips found his and her arms went around his shoulders, pulled him closer. She shot her tongue into his mouth and let her hand roam down to the bulge in his shorts. Ooh, she sighed to herself, that's what I want.
They stripped themselves in silence and let their bodies join. Her crotch was ready, moist with the thinking of Martin's cock in there and when he penetrated her tight hole of love she wrapped her legs around him, held him tightly and squeezed from herself all the thoughts of what had happened to her with Antonio and Zelda.
Fatigue and the excitement of the events made Martin quick with his pent-up release. He shot his semen into her and felt that he had not yet satisfied her, but her body throbbed against his as if to say that everything was all right. And it was.
Later on he explained to Mary that he had not been able to find Zelda. He told her about Bob and Antonio and then told the rest of the group.
"The boat's on the way," he said as they all stood on the beach and watched the whaler being rowed slowly towards them. "But a lot has happened here to all of us. Miss Gruder is gone. She's somewhere on the island, I guess, but maybe she just took a swim. At any rate, it doesn't seem to be much purpose in telling what went on here these weeks. My guess is that the first mate went mad and killed Bob. Phillip had an accident. Miss Gruder is missing. Let them look for her."
They all looked at each other and silently agreed that what Martin Kelly said made sense. Joan was happy to forget it. Ellen would have denied it. And Ann and Ronnie and Alex. Norma wasn't sure what had happened, but she agreed to say nothing.
The boat pulled up on the beach and one by one they got into it, hardly saying more than yes or no to the questions of the reporters who were there. When they were all aboard the ship that stood outside the lagoon, Martin and Mary leaned over the rail and watched as the small boat returned with the body of Bob Haas. They had not been able to find Antonio's body.
"Is it over for us?" Mary asked.
"I don't know," he said. "I don't think we'll ever be able to forget it." Mary nodded in agreement.
Zelda Gruder stood behind a tree and watched the rescue take place. It seemed fitting that she would not be among those rescued. What was the difference, she asked herself. This island as a prison or some other prison? It all seemed the same to her. There was the escape of the sea. Phillip had taken that way. But Zelda knew that she would not be able to kill herself.
She remained standing on the beach as the ship pulled farther and farther over the horizon and wondered if any of the kids would remember her, remember what she had done to them and for them. She told herself that she had done something for some of them. Martin would be a good man. Someday. And Mary? A strong girl. She would survive. Ann? What had happened to her only happened sooner than it would have. Joan, too. And Ronnie. He would grow out of it. The others didn't seem to matter anymore, and, as the last wisp of smoke curled into the bright blue sky, she laughed. And she kept on laughing right on into the night and the next day.
